A/N: And I'm back with another chapter! Okay, I hate to break it to you but I've got yet another depressing chapter for you. But what do you expect out of a double death? James has been dealing with a lot of unfortunate occurrences and it's going to take more than just one chapter to make him feel better about it all. I promise you that things will get better! We all know that J/L end up together - but it's going to be a journey to get there. A war is going on and they're both smack dab in the middle of it.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter. I am not J.K. Rowling. Therefore I did not write Harry Potter. Which means that most of this story doe not belong to me.

Goodbyes on the Balcony

By ByeByeBirdie

Chapter 18: Of Tristan, Lattes, & Loneliness

++JAMES++

I've been to so many funerals that this one shouldn't have been any different. Except it was. Because I was mourning the loss of two people I hadn't been close to for years. Two people who had had the audacity to walk out on their family. I shouldn't have been heartbroken over losing them when I had already lost them so many years prior. And yet I was heartbroken. Because they had still been my family. A family that was crumbling in front of my very eyes.

I only remembered one thing about the double funeral and that was the tears running down my mother's face. She didn't speak the entire time. She didn't even look at anyone. She looked straight ahead at the front of the church, her eyes on the floral arrangements behind the caskets. She didn't sob or bawl or snuffle. She merely sat there stoically. And it killed me watching her.

It hurt that I had to tell her Wyatt sought out Dad before he sought out her. I saw the pain in her eyes when I told her that. And then I had to tell her he was dead. Oh, yeah, and so was the man that she was married to for thirty years.

Her life was falling apart more than mine and I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was all my fault.

As I sat off in the corner at the reception, I was very much aware of how impossible it was to bear. It was an exact replica of Brite's reception and JT's reception. The same people showed up, give or a take a few, and everyone spouted the same lame apologies and sympathy. I had no desire to be there. But somehow I was rooted to a particular spot in the corner of the room. Maybe because I was trying to show how strong I could be. Or maybe it was because I just felt numb all over that the prospect of moving was merely a fantasy.

"Hey."

My thoughts were interrupted by Lily brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"How are you doing?" she whispered, kissing the top of my head.

She had been by my side the entire day. A part of me, the weaker part of me, was so grateful that she was there to hold my hand throughout the day. But the fearful side of me wanted to keep her far away from me because everyone that was apparently in my presence wasn't going to be around for very long. It was absolutely impossible not thinking about the implications of Wyatt and my father's death on the future. Specifically, on the future of my loved ones' lives. Which included Lily. I loved her too much to ever see her fall on the list of people I had to mourn at a funeral. That might literally kill me.

"I can't hear the word 'I'm sorry' one more time," I said back, my teeth clenched tightly.

"I know," she said, choosing to sit down beside me. "I can't imagine what you're going through."

"Not sure how you can't imagine it considering this is apparently a common occurrence for me."

She frowned at my bluntness. "Don't get all cynical on me now," she pleaded. "You're stronger than that."

"Am I?" I murmured. "Sometimes I wonder."

She reached for my hand but I instinctively jerked it away before she could reach me. She looked up at me, confused. "Are you alright, James?"

I couldn't help but shoot her a look. "I'm at a funeral. What do you think?"

"I know that," she said softly, clearly hurt by my harsh words. "But you're not acting like yourself right now. I just want to make sure you're going to be okay."

No, Lily. I'm not going to be okay. I'm not going to be okay until Voldemort is destroyed and all is right in the world again. "Yeah," I lied. "I'll be fine."

Worry spread in her eyes. "You don't really believe that, do you," she whispered knowingly.

Merlin, I just wanted to grab her and never let go as if that would stop the world from crashing down around me. Instead I said, "I just want this all to be over."

"Hey," she said softly, reaching for my hand yet again. I didn't stop it this time as she squeezed it. "Whatever happens, I'll be here."

I know. That's part of the problem.

"James," a familiar deep voice spoke from behind me to break me from my depressing thoughts.

I stiffened and turned around to face Dumbledore.

"Albus," I spoke coolly. I could feel Lily's curious eyes staring at me. It wasn't like me to use Dumbledore's first name and it certainly wasn't like me to use his name so callously.

Surprise flickered in his eyes. "I know how much you're hurting and-"

"Do you?" I retaliated, trying hard to bite my tongue. "Because I'm pretty sure you don't know a damned thing about what I'm feeling. Or maybe you do and you just don't care. I'm not sure which is worse."

I stormed off, leaving him behind with Lily, and headed straight through the kitchen outdoors. I needed fresh air now more than ever, needing to find some sort of escape from my own morbid thoughts. If that was even possible. I ignored the slight bit of drizzle falling from the sky as I traipsed through my back door and fell into an Adirondack chair on the lawn, trying hard to catch my breath.

I knew I wasn't really that mad at Dumbledore. I could never be mad at him. He was the most selfless person I knew. If he really thought he was helping Wyatt and my family, then he probably was. Didn't make it any easier knowing he had a hand in Wyatt's disappearance and never told me. Never told anyone. So I wasn't mad. But I was hurt.

He had kept so many secrets from me. About my family. About Moody. About Sydny. And about myself. A pang erupted in my heart as I thought back to the words Dumbledore spoke in the hospital the day he told me Voldemort was after me. He was going after everyone in my life. Even if they didn't mean that much to me.

So what did that mean for Lily?

I knew that I hadn't imagined that Rodolphus and Bellatrix went after Lily that day in the training facilities. They had pushed me aside and had said that it wasn't me they were going after. If I recall (and I did have a huge bump on the back of my head so the details could be fuzzy), Bellatrix had said that it was time to go for the one that Voldemort wanted most. And it was obvious that that person was Lily. And that scared the hell out of me. I couldn't live my life without her. With all of the tragedies and heartbreak I've had to endure over the years, she was my constant. She was my stability (if stability was something I could even really strive for). Whenever I would start to feel overwhelmed by depression, I would look into her eyes and suddenly, my fears and anxieties would disappear. I didn't just love her. I needed her. But more than that, I needed her alive. My entire world, life, existence would be over if I ever heard the words that she was dead.

I rubbed my temples. Unfortunately, it seemed that it was inevitable if Voldemort had his way. And when was the last time Voldemort didn't get his way?

"Hey."

I was really beginning to hate that word.

"I'd ask how you're doing, but we both know that's a stupid question," Keegan said.

I simply shrugged.

"And I'd say I'm sorry, but I have a feeling you'd hex me if you had to hear those two words one more time."

I finally looked up. "How are things going with the exposé?"

She offered me a smile. A lopsided, sympathetic smile. A smile I was really beginning to hate. "I met your brother."

"Grant?" Turns out, he had been back in London for a few weeks after staying in China for a while. Word was he was planning on heading back to Asia right after this reception.

She nodded.

"Did he give you anything?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "He was surprisingly forthcoming. Turns out, as much as he didn't appreciate his family, he'd like to know what the hell is going on as well."

"Can't remember the last time we shared something in common," I commented with a curt shrug. Can't even remember the last time we talked. Even with everything that's occurred to the rest of our family, he and I haven't exactly buried the hatchet. He had been in Asia for a few months and even before then, we barely spoke. We had gotten together with the family occasionally on holidays, but we weren't ever going to be best friends. Too much history.

"James?"

"Hm?"

"I am sorry," she said softly, her eyes piercing through mine. "It's not fair that this keeps happening to you and your family. I know how much it hurts and I know how much it's killing you to watch so many close to you die."

I swallowed hard, returning my gaze to the landscape displayed in front of us. "Whatever," I eventually said. "It doesn't matter."

I felt her gaze on me, never swaying. She didn't speak and I was thankful that she didn't. I just wanted this hell to be over. Which 'hell' I was referring to, I couldn't be sure. The hell of this reception? The hell of all these tragedies? The hell that had become my life?

"Does it help, James?" she asked hesitantly.

I gazed at her in confusion. "Does what help?"

My eyes locked with hers and there was a moment of intense compassion between the two of us. A compassion I have never once seen from Keegan Rouge. She offered me a curt shrug. "To pretend it doesn't matter when it actually hurts more than anyone could ever possibly know."

I blinked, a look of shattered awe spreading across my face. She refused to look away and somehow my eyes were drawn to hers. Neither of us could turn away. It wasn't just compassion I sensed in her. It was understanding. I finally pulled my eyes away from hers. "No," I responded. "It doesn't help."

She sighed. "Yeah," she whispered. "I know. And I'm really sorry that it doesn't."

"How do you know so much?" I murmured hesitantly.

Silence again. I turned to her, sensing an uneasy tension brooding in the air. Instead of that compassion and understanding, there was pain in her eyes. Unbelievable pain. And I had a feeling I already knew what she was about to say. "I've been there," she said softly, using the cocktail straw in her drink to stir the ice around hesitantly. "To this day, I pretend that…that it doesn't matter."

I quirked a curious eyebrow.

She sighed and I knew she knew what it felt like. To feel like sympathy wasn't enough. That it was empathy that ever mattered. The words "I'm sorry" start to sound hollow coming from people who don't really understand the pain that death inflicts upon you. But looking at her I knew she knew exactly what that was like. I just wasn't sure how.

She swallowed hard and said, "I know what it's like to…to lose someone you love," she said softly.

I glanced at her. "Yeah?"

She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath in, before opening her eyes and staring me straight in the face. "My fiancé died four years ago. Voldemort's doing."

I froze in shock. First Lily's family, then mine, next was Sydny's, now Keegan lost someone. Why was it that everyone in my life had to deal with such horrible pain and suffering that came with the tragedy of death? No one deserved such devastating heartbreak. No one deserved to feel such emptiness and defeat. No one deserved such abandonment. No one.

"Keegan, I-I don't know what to say."

She merely shrugged. "No one ever does."

Ain't that the truth.

I turned my gaze on her again and saw her strong attempt to not let the strong, confident expression on her face waver. The death of her fiancé explained a lot about Keegan. She tried to be so strong and independent and yet it was overwhelming guardedness that permeated her life. She had put herself in the ultimate vulnerable position by falling in love and he died. He was taken away from her in a cruel and unfair way. And selfishly, I started to turn my thoughts away from Keegan and back on Lily.

I couldn't imagine dealing with something as horrible as the death of the girl I'm in love with. Maybe I was too close to her if that was even possible. Just like Keegan, I was in a horribly vulnerable position by being so madly in love with Lily Evans. And all I wanted to do was protect myself and ultimately protect her from the dangers and the risks that I solely presented to her. But how the hell was I supposed to do any more than what I've been trying to do? Fighting for my life and her life and the lives of everyone I cared about by trying to be the best Auror and the best Order member I could possibly be was supposed to be enough. But apparently it wasn't.

As I glanced back over at Keegan I was more scared than ever. If Keegan could lose the love of her life, so too could all of us. And I wasn't sure I ever wanted to end up looking and acting like Keegan. She tried to pretend as if she was fine but she wasn't. We all knew it even when she tried hiding it. Her heart was still trying to mend itself from the overwhelming agony it had to endure and while we never were able to pinpoint it, it was more obvious now than ever before. I wanted better for myself and I wanted better for Lily. I wanted us to always be there for each other. I just really wish there was an easy fix to make sure that could happen.

Damnit, I was determined to find that fix.

"Tell me about him," I found myself saying pleadingly.

She blinked, clearly trying to avoid eye contact with me as she stared straight ahead. "There's not much to say," she said hollowly, shrugging. "He was…he was my fiancé. And the he wasn't."

"I don't know how you do it," I blurted out.

She frowned. "Do what?"

"How you continue on with your life without the person that makes it worth living," I whispered, my eyes never faltering from her.

Her bottom lip trembled as she finally turned to look at me. "I'm not sure how I do it either," she admitted in a soft whisper.

Somehow that just made me feel worse.

"Tristan was my world," she continued. "My everything. So I know a little bit about having your world fall apart at the drop of a hat so unexpectedly. Or in your case in the drop of a few hats. It's awful," she emphasized. "There's…there's no other way to sum it up. It's the worst kind of pain anyone could ever deal with. Losing someone unexpectedly, especially those who you love, is unbearable. We're…we're too young to be dealing with this."

I could only nod, the lump in my throat growing increasingly by the second.

"So I might be one of the few people who actually means it when I say I'm so terribly sorry, James," she said softly, surreptitiously trying to wipe away a tear. "Because even though I know how much easier it is to pretend it doesn't affect you, I know that deep down inside your heart is shattered into a million pieces. And all you want is for those pieces to be repaired. Problem is, they never will."

Depression welled up inside of me and I had to bite my bottom lip to stop any semblance of tears. "No," I whispered, swallowing the lump. "They won't."

She then did something that surprised me. She reached out, grabbed my hand, squeezed it tightly, and didn't let go. And I never appreciated Keegan Rouge more.

++LILY++

I watched my boyfriend and my ex-roommate from the kitchen, sensing that if I walked out there I would be intruding on what could only be described as some sort of tender, bonding moment between the two. I guess if James didn't want me to comfort him, at least he had someone. But surprise and confusion rushed over me when I saw Keegan reach over to squeeze his hand. Keegan and James have always gotten along with each other, but not to the point of any intimate gestures such as holding hands.

I sighed. It was crazy that I was apparently jealous of her. But clearly he was listening and talking to her while all he had done with me for the past few days was shut me out. I knew he was aware of it even if he tried to ignore it. I just wish I knew why he was so keen on pushing me away now more than ever. But I guess if I couldn't be there for James, at least someone could. It was hard watching him fall apart. The way he was acting with Wyatt and his father's deaths reminded me of the way he had acted when he had found out about Brite. He was becoming withdrawn and distancing himself away from me, heart and mind combined. I thought we had gotten over that. When Jaron was kidnapped and killed, James came to me immediately for comfort. When an Auror was killed in action, James wanted me by his side when he had to attend the funeral. After the distance he put between us when Brite died nearly tore us up, he had never even tried to be that guy again. He needed me and he showed that. Except now. It was hard to recognize the man that was now in front of me.

"He will be okay, Lily," a deep voice spoke from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at Dumbledore. "He's strong."

"I know he's strong," I murmured. "But how long is that going to last? He can only stay so strong when his family is falling apart."

He rested his hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad he has such a support system in his life like you, Miss Evans," he said softly. Too softly. I glanced up at him, sensing worry deriving from his words. Worry that seemed very unlike Albus Dumbledore. "He needs it."

I turned away from him to gaze at the back of my boyfriend's head. All I wanted was to hug him and never let go. I wanted to stop time so that no more bad could happen to him. I wanted to protect him from all the deaths and disasters he's had to endure. I just wanted him to be happy.

Tears welled up in my eyes when I realized that that was merely a fantasy. With everything that's happened to him, I was skeptical that James Potter would ever really be happy again.

"Has he talked to you at all, Lily?" Dumbledore asked quietly, interrupting my thoughts. "About what's been going on?"

I glanced up at him, confused. "About what exactly? He's not one to discuss his feelings much, Albus," I reminded him.

He nodded. "I know. I just don't want him to bottle everything up inside."

A lump formed in my throat as my gaze once again fell upon James. "I think it's a little too late for that."

Dumbledore didn't respond. He didn't need to. I knew he agreed with me.

It came as no surprise to any of us that we all ended up in the library later that night. It's where we always went to avoid the looks of pity and the words of fake sympathy. It was almost comforting to at least have each other during these tragic times. James sat stiffly on the couch, my head resting in his lap as he stroked my hair. Dezzy and Drew cuddled in the loveseat, a blanket strewn over their bodies. Sirius sat on the other end of the couch, occasionally tickling my feet as he knew how much that annoyed me. Remus and Peter were leaning up against one of the bookcases while Keegan sat on the piano bench, intermittently tinkering away on the piano keys when it got even slightly quiet. Lance was lying on his stomach on the floor, resting his arms underneath his chin on a pillow with Kay's head leaning on the curve of Lance's back. Lance's brothers had strolled into the library at different times throughout the evening, spending an hour or two with the group before disappearing back into the crowd. Frank and Alice stopped in for a while and Fabian, too, although it was clear Fabian wasn't sure how to act around Keegan and ended up leaving quickly after. I was shocked when Grant dropped in, nodding his acknowledgement and relaying his sympathies before whisking himself away to find Maya. It was even more unexpected when Sydny walked into the library to express her condolences. She didn't stay long and there was some sort of awkward tension between her and James that I wasn't sure what to think about. I could tell she wanted to be anywhere but in that library but probably felt obligated to be there for at least a brief period of time.

I thought back to the night we spent in the library of Brite's reception. We had somehow hoarded about eight bottles of wine. This time, we had only two bottles and they both remained untouched. I think we were all too exhausted and drained to even attempt to pour a glass of wine for ourselves. It was obvious that none of us wanted to be there. Not because we didn't want to honor Wyatt and Mr. Potter's memory, but because we were all getting quite frustrated with the repetition of the library get-togethers at funeral receptions.

As the time ticked by and everyone recapped their favorite memories they had shared with Wyatt and Mr. Potter, one by one, people started slowly departing. Eventually, it was just me, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter left in the library. We were always the last five standing. I couldn't help but smile sullenly at that thought. The camaraderie among the four Marauders (maybe even the five of us) was the only thing in my life I would never take for granted. The four of them unconditionally shared a bond that most people would kill for. It made my heart warm every time I saw them together. It made me feel slightly comforted. But only slightly.

"What are the chances the ballroom has emptied out by now?" James whined, stifling a yawn.

Remus glanced at the clock on the wall. "Slim to none. Those Italian Aurors like to drink. They'll use any excuse to do so."

"Even a funeral," James muttered.

Four pairs of eyes rested on him, including mine filled with worry.

"Stop," he said firmly, shaking his head.

"What?" Peter asked innocently.

"Stop giving me those looks. I get those looks enough from people who showed up today and barely know me. I don't need them from you four."

I turned away, knowing he was right. It was hard not sympathizing, even empathizing coming from someone who lost her entire family, but I know how much I hated those looks of pity. It made you feel like a leper, like you're nothing, like you should feel ashamed. It made you realize that those looking at you are thinking how grateful they are that it didn't happen to them. It made you wonder what was going to happen next, what the future held for you. If there was even a future for you anymore. If you wanted a future. A single look from someone made you question everything you used to be, everything you are, and everything you could or will be.

I thought it was wise to change the subject. "What was going on between you and Dumbledore?"

He frowned. "It's nothing."

Liar. "What about you and Sydny?"

He snorted. "The girl's a bitch. What more do you need to know?"

Lying again. "And what were you and Keegan talking about in the backyard?"

He hesitated, meeting my gaze. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes and wondered briefly if I even wanted to know. "Well, I found out why the girl always seems so guarded."

I noticed Sirius to my left perk up, his eyes fixated keenly on James. "You did?" he asked hoarsely.

James nodded.

"Well?" I urged.

He pursed out his lips, taking his stare off of me and sighing. "Her fiancé died four years ago."

Gasps escaped Remus, Peter, and my mouths. Interestingly enough, not Sirius'. "What?" I finally whispered.

"She was engaged?" Peter mused.

He nodded solemnly. "Guess so."

"What happened to him?" Remus asked.

He shrugged curtly. "What do you think? Voldemort happened."

Aw, jeez. No wonder her relationships always ended in tense failure. No wonder she found a way to run off whenever it got too much to handle. No wonder she was so afraid of any sort of long-standing commitment. Why did everyone in my life have to deal with untimely deaths?

"Did she happen to mention to you who her fiancé was?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

James shrugged. "Some bloke named Tristan. Does it matter? It's still heartbreaking."

Sirius clenched his teeth, choosing not to respond.

James narrowed his eyes curiously at him. I did, too. Sirius knew something he wasn't telling us. "Why, what do you know?"

Sirius shook his head slowly. "Nothing good," he murmured.

Oh, great. What now?

James sighed, rubbing his temples. "Sirius, just tell us."

Silence followed. Sirius licked his lips like he so often did when trying to stall and find the right words. He moved to chewing on the inside of his lip and that's when I started to get slightly worried. My heartbeat started to race as I attempted to think of the million possibilities of sentences that could tumble out of Sirius' mouth. I came up blank.

"Does Tristan Moreau ring a bell?"

I felt James stiffen beneath my touch and when I sat up to look at him, I noticed his face was slowly turning white. I tried to place that name and even though it sounded vaguely familiar, I was unable to do so.

"Oh, shit," James whispered.

He was beginning to scare me.

Sirius met James' gaze and nodded. "'Oh shit' is right."

I could feel James' heart beating a mile a minute beneath me. "Tristan Moreau was her fiancé?" he choked out.

Sirius hesitated, nodding.

James scrambled up from the couch, heading towards the door. "I have to go find her."

"Aw, Prongs, hold up," Sirius pleaded. "Don't go chasing after her. You can't fix any of this."

He shook his head. "I know that," he muttered, swallowing hard. "But I can at least give her a bit of closure. Do you know how many times I've wondered why it had to be Brite who died? Or JT? Now Wyatt and my father? Why they were chosen? Why? Well,I can answer that question for Keegan. Or at least try." He shrugged and rushed out the door.

"James, c'mon!" Sirius cried out again, but James was gone. Sirius slumped down on to the couch with a sigh.

"Who's Tristan Moreau and why does that name ring a bell?" Remus asked.

Sirius turned his gaze on Remus with a frown. "He was the son of the former French Minister of Magic. The whole family was killed by Death Eaters."

Chills ran up my spine. Now I knew why that name sounded so familiar. "Oh, no."

"Yes," Sirius repeated.

"What?" Peter asked, still clearly confused.

It was as if time just stopped. All I saw was the horrified look on Sirius' face when our eyes met and I was transported back in time four years earlier. To the day of the Moreaus' funerals. While hundreds and thousands of wizards and witches throughout the world mourned the loss of a great man and his family, somewhere deep in a forest in Thailand, Voldemort was hunting Aurors.

"The Moreaus' deaths were merely a diversion from Voldemort's real plans," Sirius explained, barely above a whisper. "The real plan was to attack an Auror training mission going on in Southeast Asia."

"Oh, shit," Peter said.

Sirius nodded. "The same Auror training mission that killed Brite Potter and Darien Prewett."

I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.

++KEEGAN++

I was oddly thankful for James giving me what I needed: a reason to stay in Godric's Hollow. That exposé was something I was more than thrilled to write. It was the kind of research and fact-finding I had always been interested in and it was really going to shed a lot of light on the Potter family. I was grateful that James was able to give me a reason to stay when Sirius clearly could have but didn't.

I was sifting through some of the notes on the Potter family I took at the reception when there was a knock on my door. Glancing at the clock, I was shocked to see it was after midnight. My mind had been so wrapped up in looking over my interview with Dezzy that time had passed by faster than I expected.

Another knock came. I hesitated, wondering who the hell would be at my door after midnight. I was quite confused to see that it was James.

"James?" I murmured. "What are you doing here?"

He looked shaken. "Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly.

I nodded slowly, gesturing him in. "Are you alright?" I asked, realizing his face was ashen and his bottom lip was trembling.

He took a deep breath in and let out a long, drawn-out sigh, never letting his gaze waver from mine. He took a seat on the couch, swallowing hard. "Not really," he finally said, shaking his head cautiously.

I still couldn't figure out why he was there. After the day he had, he should have been with Lily. Or Dezzy or his mother. Maybe even Sirius and Remus and Peter. Not me. Unless… "Are you here about the exposé?" I asked curiously. It was the only logical explanation.

He shook his head. "No," he was quick to argue.

There goes that theory.

He paused. "Well, not intentionally."

That caught my attention. "Not intentionally?" I repeated, confused.

"I'm here about Tristan."

The worlds tumbled out of his mouth and I froze at the very sound of my ex-fiancé's name. I couldn't even build up the strength to ask what he meant by that. I know I had spoken of Tristan briefly earlier, but I thought that would be it. Mention him for a few seconds to help a friend going through a rough time and then go back to pretending as if it never happened. And now James was sitting in front of me, determined to talk about it. "Forget it, James. He's a part of my past," I eventually muttered.

"I know," he said softly. "He's a part of my past, too."

I stared at him, uncertain how to take that. "What are you talking about?"

James fell silent, biting down on the inside of his lip like he so often did when he was feeling vulnerable. He was clearly trying to find a way to tell me something. Something I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear. The look on James' face told me enough. "Did you ever figure out why Voldemort targeted him?" he asked.

No. But I've certainly wondered every day since Tristan died. "Does Voldemort need a rhyme and reason to kill innocent people?" I spat, swallowing hard.

"Not always," spoke James, his voice barely above a whisper.

I gazed at him. "Is this the part where you suddenly tell me you know why Voldemort killed Tristan?"

"And his family," James blurted out.

I froze. I never told him about Tristan's family, which meant that James did indeed more than I thought he did. "How do you know that?" I whispered.

Silence once again. His bottom lip trembled again and I saw guilt flicker in his eyes. A strong look of guilt. A look that made me nervous. Scared, even. I didn't want to hear what he had to say.

I sighed. Except if it was about Tristan and his death, maybe I did.

"James," I said, placing my hand on his arm. "Just talk to me."

He swallowed hard. "You might not want to hear this."

I nodded. "I know."

I couldn't figure out what it is that James could have possibly known about Tristan's death, but I was willing to listen.

"Do you remember anything that happened the day of Tristan's funeral?" he asked.

"You mean besides the funeral?" I snorted, wincing when I realized that sounded harsh.

He gazed at me, his focus filled with heartbreak. "Yeah, besides the funeral," he murmured. "I mean anything that happened in the real world. Anything with Voldemort."

I racked my brain but that day was an entire black cloud in my mind. I can barely remember what I did that day much less what a bastard like Voldemort was doing that day. "James, I was more worrying about putting the guy I was madly in love with into the ground. That was my real world," I said bluntly, shaking my head. "Whatever the hell Voldemort was doing elsewhere wasn't on my mind."

"Oh, Keegan, I'm so sorry," he blurted out, shaking his head incredulously.

I shrugged, turning away from his sad puppy-dog face. "It's not your fault," I muttered.

He stiffened beside me, retracting his arm from underneath my hand. "What if it is?"

Okay, now he was slowly starting to frighten me. "What?"

Silence again. He was brooding, thinking to himself. And I wanted to chuck a pillow at him to stop his quiet fretting and just spill whatever the hell he knew. But I didn't. I remained silent, letting him collect his thoughts. Letting myself collect my own thoughts.

"There was a British Auror training mission in Southeast Asia at the time of the Moreaus' deaths," he started hastily and yet cautiously. "Voldemort's plan all along had been to covertly attack those Aurors. Catch them off-guard and unexpectedly. Kill them all. But…but…"

"But?" I urged, my heart beating a mile a minute.

James swallowed hard. "He and some of his Death Eaters were spotted in Thailand before that plan could be executed."

He hesitated like that should mean something to me. It didn't. "So?"

James met my gaze. There was remorse and shame muffled in his hazel eyes. "So Voldemort needed a diversion," he said softly.

My heart skipped a beat. "So he went after the Moreaus?" I suggested.

James offered me a single curt nod.

This sounded vaguely familiar. But only vaguely. I shut my eyes, letting my mind wander back to one of the worst days I've ever had to encounter. I thought about all the people who relayed their deepest sympathies to me. I thought about those same people who were secretly glad it hadn't been their fiancées who were killed. But I couldn't remember much past those insincere apologies.

James sighed. "He had some Death Eaters laying low in the French country so…so he called upon them to attack the biggest names in France at the time," he muttered.

So they didn't even die for some political regime. They died because Voldemort panicked. Their death wasn't even noble or honorable. They merely died a horrible and painful death. And for what? So others could die the next day?

He continued. "And while the entire country of France mourned the loss of their Minister and his family, while people attended the funeral and while others listened to the ceremony over the WWN, Voldemort had his own plans."

I didn't want to hear anymore. "Stop," I murmured, shaking my head. "I get it. I get that Voldemort's plans were spiteful and vengeful. That Tristan's death meant nothing to him. Meant nothing to anyone except maybe me. That Voldemort didn't care what he was doing as long as he got what he wanted. I get it. You don't have to go on."

"But I do," James pleaded.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and I blinked them away furiously. It had been a long time since I cried over Tristan's death. I wasn't about to start now. "No you don't," I begged feebly.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, not letting go until I looked at him. "There were fifteen Aurors on that training mission in Thailand," he continued softly. "Five of them died."

I shut my eyes, wanting him to stop talking. While death was inevitable for everyone, I was seriously done discussing it with James at that moment. I didn't want to continue reliving the worst day of my life.

"My brother was one of those that died."

Oh, shit. I froze, my mouth dropping open in sympathy. "Brite?" I whispered.

He nodded, his bottom lip trembling.

I've briefly heard Brite's name mentioned over the past few months. Maybe a handful of times. I knew he had been an Auror and he died in battle. But that was pretty much the extent of my knowledge on the subject. I had never even known when he had died. Never knew the date or even the year. So it's stupid of me to think that I should have been able to correlate his death with Tristan's. But I couldn't help but think I was foolish for not seeing it before. It's what we all do in a similar coincidental situation. We second-guess ourselves.

My gaze fell on James who looked heartbroken. Guilty even. His eyes were averted towards the wooden floors, his thoughts clearly on his brother. My eyebrows narrowed when I realized why he looked so guilty. "You don't blame yourself for any of these deaths, do you?"

No response. Guess that answered my question. "Oh, come off it, James," I argued, shaking my head. "You said it yourself. Voldemort's plan was to go after the Aurors. Voldemort needed a diversion. Voldemort sent his men he was hiding in France to kill the Moreaus. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort. Never once were you a part of his thinking process. Never once were you a part of the plan. So don't you dare start thinking so."

There was a flicker of shame in his eyes, quickly replaced with uncertainty. "You said before that Tristan's death probably didn't mean anything to a lot of people." I met his gaze and he slowly shook his head. "You're wrong," he said softly. "It means something to me."

I tried desperately to blink back the tears that were pooling in my eyelids. The tears I had forced myself not to cry since I left France behind.

He turned his head, swallowing hard. "I think about the Moreaus all the time. When we all talk about innocent people who died by the hands of Voldemort, the Moreaus are on the top of that list. They meant nothing to Voldemort. He probably didn't even know their names. There was no plan, no real reason they were chosen. If he had Death Eaters stationed in Italy, it would have been the Italian Minister's family. If they were in Australia, it would have been the Australian Minister's family. It makes me sick and it pains me to know that a happy, healthy family who didn't pose a danger or a threat was so expendable to Voldemort," he whispered, his voice hoarse and filled with agony.

He slowly lifted his gaze to look at me. I felt his eyes burning a hole through the side of my skull but I didn't look up. I couldn't look up. Tears were slowly slipping down my cheeks and if I looked James in the eye, there was a good chance those few tears would turn into sobs. And the last time I cried over Tristan, I couldn't stop.

"Look, I know you want to talk about anything else right now," James murmured, "But I just wanted to say how incredibly sorry I am. I know you probably think of Tristan Moreau every day and I just wanted to let you know that I do, too. Maybe not in the same way you do, but I will never forget him. And what he died for."

"He didn't die for anything," I spat out in a hurt whisper.

"Yes, he did," James pleaded, shaking his head. "His death may not be honorable to you, but-"

"He shouldn't have died at all!" My voice cracked.

"I know," James retaliated immediately, his voice cracking. "You don't think I realize that? You don't think I wonder every day why it had to be them? Why they had to die so that my own bloody brother could die just a few damned days later!? Why anyone had to die at all!? I know that they shouldn't have died! But they did. And we can't change that! But four years later, while everyone else in this goddamned wizarding world has already forgotten the unfortunate deaths that the Moreaus endured, I haven't forgotten. And I never will."

"James-"

"They died because of me," he croaked, biting down hard on the inside of his lip. "Because of my family. My brother. I'll never forgive myself for that. So I certainly don't expect you to."

He swiftly got off the couch and headed towards the door.

"Stop, James!" I cried out after him, pulling my wand and locking the front door. "Dammit, James, I don't blame you so you shouldn't either!"

His hand froze on the doorknob and he slowly turned around. I was shocked and amazed to see tears in his eyes. "You should," he whispered. "Blame me, I mean."

"What?"

He shook his head, wiping his eyes. "Nothing," he whispered. "It's just…"

"Just what?"

He shrugged curtly. "It's just not fair, that's all," he finished.

I met his eyes, shaking my head slowly. "Nothing ever is."

He swallowed hard. "You can say that again," he eventually spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

When I glanced up at him, I could tell he was hiding something. That much was obvious. He was always hiding something. I picked up my wand again and unlocked the door.

He glanced down at the door hesitantly. Before he could leave, I blurted out, "When do I get to interview you, James?"

He slowly lifted his gaze to meet my curious stare. He narrowed his eyes cautiously. "What do you want to know?"

Goosebumps ran up and down my arms at the way he was looking at me. So vulnerable, so scared, so defeated. But most of all, he was feeling a lot of pain. I shrugged. "Everything."

He smirked. "That might take a while," he announced.

I glanced at the clock. It was 12:45 PM. "I have all night."

Once again, his eyes grazed the doorknob. After a slight hesitation, he pulled his hand off the door and headed back towards me, slowly falling on to the couch. "I guess so do I."

++LILY++

It was impossible trying to fall asleep that night with James' side of the bed vacant. He had run off from the library earlier and I hadn't heard from him since. It shouldn't have some as a surprise seeing as the moment he found out about his brother and father, he was avoiding all of us. But I had still hoped something would change within him. That he would stop bottling it all inside and admit that he needed me. Needed all of us. He couldn't go through any of this alone and none of us expected him to. But no matter how much I told him I was always going to be there for him, he was starting not to care about that. He was becoming a robot, a mere shell of hopelessness and I just prayed he would come back. He was allowed to be distant for a short while as long as he found his way back.

I jumped as I heard the door creak open. I glanced up to see James trying to tiptoe into the bedroom. "Hey."

He froze in the doorway. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I was already awake," I said, sitting up in bed. "Where have you been?"

"Keegan's."

I blinked, glancing over at the clock in the corner. "For four hours?"

He frowned. "Has it been that long?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

That's all he had to say? "Did you tell her about…" I trailed off.

He nodded, slipping into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. "Brite? Yeah," he murmured.

"How'd she take it?"

He threw off his dark robes, tossing them on to the chair in the corner. "She doesn't blame me."

"Why would she?" I asked, confused. "You didn't do anything. Brite didn't even do anything. This was all Voldemort's doing. You have to recognize that, James. We are doing all that we can to try and stop him. And with the Order and your duties as an Auror, we're going to make it happen."

"How can you be so sure, Lils?" he blurted out. "We've been doing this for four years and what have we really accomplished?"

My heart ached at the clear defeat in his words. I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay but unfortunately I could never be sure of that. "Please don't lose hope," I whispered.

He frowned, turning around to face me. I could see the anxiety in the creases of his forehead as he leaned up against the dresser with a sigh. "What does hoping do, Lils? It just leaves us with empty dreams that will most likely never get fulfilled. Maybe it's time we just accept the unfortunate reality of our lives and stop living in a dream world."

"Stop," I pleaded through gritted teeth. "This isn't you, James. This is your grief talking. Please don't give up. Not yet. You still have so much. And I know that it doesn't feel like you do right now. I know that. But you have to know that you so many people on your side. People rooting for you. People rooting against Voldemort and his followers. And we're not going anywhere. We are always going to be here for you. Always. And that's how you're going be able to get through all of this. Because we're not going to let you not get through it."

He blinked, a curious look flickering in his eyes as he gazed down at me. "I know that you're always going to be there, Lily," he said softly. "Even if I don't always deserve it."

"You deserve it," I responded immediately, slowly climbing out of bed and taking the steps over to him. I placed my arms around his shoulders and he hesitantly placed his hand on my hips, daring to look me in the eye. "Don't think that just because all this bullshit that you don't deserve keeps happening to you that means you don't deserve the good in your life."

He merely nodded, brushing my hair from my forehead. "You know I love you, right?"

It wasn't the reaction I was expecting, the words sounding so robotically rehearsed as I could tell it was his way of shutting the conversation up, but I could only nod. "I know that," I whispered, drawing my arms down to wrap around his waist as I leaned my head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and I was very aware of how safe I always felt there. The world could be crashing down around me but as long as I could be in the safety of my boyfriend's arms, I probably wouldn't notice let alone care. "I love you, too, James."

But as we crawled into bed together that night, I couldn't help but wonder why it felt like we were a million miles apart even while lying in each other's arms.

++SYDNY++

I had started at the British Auror offices a month ago and I was always the first one in the office. Well, besides Moody occasionally. But imagine my shock when I walked into the office that Monday morning and saw James sitting at his desk. "Hey," I said slowly.

"I hate that word," he grumbled.

"Sorry," I murmured, sitting down at my desk. I noticed a cup of coffee sitting there.

"Chai tea latte," said James from behind me.

I stared at him. "Why are you being nice?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm always nice."

I snorted.

He cracked a smile. "I didn't think you'd buy that."

I chuckled, picking up the latte and sniffing it.

"It's not filled with poison, Lafevre," he laughed. "It's just a latte."

"I've learned over the years that it's never just a latte," I argued, giving him a look. "So what do you want?"

"Nothing," he argued. He almost sounded sincere. "I was just here early and I was down in the coffee shop and I thought you might want a Chai tea latte."

"Yeah, it's that first part that worries me."

"Which part?"

"The 'you were early' part."

He rolled his eyes, turning around to face his own desk. "Why does that worry you?"

I shrugged, not responding immediately, using that time to really scrutinize him. I waited until he glanced up at me to say, "You can't hide from your problems, Potter."

He scoffed. "I'm not trying to hide. Just because Wyatt and my father died doesn't mean everything's changed," he murmured, shaking his head. "I'm just…I missed work on Friday. So I've got a lot to catch up on."

"James-"

"Don't say anything," he pleaded. "Please, just…just let me do my work."

I sighed, gazing at him sympathetically. "Okay."

James might have thought that nothing had changed, but in all honesty, everything did. Over the next month, it was rare that I was the first in the office. And that alone spoke volumes.

++LANCE++

Corner Joe's that following Sunday was…well, it was awkward. Most of us had shown up to support James so imagine our surprise when he never showed. Our table was at full capacity. I was there, my hand gripping tightly to Kay's as if I ever let go, she'd be the one to die next. Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat at one end of the table, the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet left unopened in front of them. Frank and Alice had showed up and considering I can't remember the last Sunday morning get-together they had attended, I knew they were there solely for James. Keegan was there, her right leg twitching frenetically as if she would rather be anywhere else but there. And Lily was sitting off to the side all by herself, going through the motions of drinking her latte but her eyes showed an overwhelming lack of emotion.

"Where's James?" I eventually asked Lily.

She stiffened and chucked a piece of muffin in her mouth. "Your guess is as good as mine."

I shared a look with Kay, who looked worried. But the way her eyes kept migrating towards Lily, I had a feeling it wasn't James she was worried about.

"How's he doing?" Remus dared to ask.

Lily met his gaze. "Your guess is as good as mine," she repeated monotonously. She pushed back from the table and stood up. "I need another latte. Anyone want anything?"

We all shook our heads in unison and watched her walk away.

"She's not doing so well," Kay sighed, watching her best friend head up to the counter. I had a feeling Lily didn't get up because she wanted a latte but because she needed to get away from the questions and scrutiny.

"He is working himself into a frenzy. He's the first one in the office every morning, the last one to leave. He's skipping lunch, he's jumping at the chance to do any field work with Moody, he's in the training facilities during any of his free time," Frank said with a sigh.

"This shouldn't come as a surprise," Remus pointed out. "He's always been good at pushing the people he loves away from him during tragedy."

"Not this way," Sirius was quick to argue, shaking his head slowly. He looked frazzled, fatigued even. He had bags under his eyes and his clothes were sloppy. And anytime Sirius' clothes are sloppy, you know something is wrong. He always said he had to make sure he looks good when he leaves the house in case he runs into a cute girl. "Yeah, he shuts down a bit and becomes distant. But he doesn't avoid our get-togethers to go work out. He doesn't skip Friday night dinner to finish paperwork. He doesn't let a week go by without at least talking to one of us. He doesn't send daggers at Dumbledore! He's…he's…"

"Scared?" Keegan suggested.

All of our eyes turned to face her. "What?" Remus asked.

She shrugged casually. "His whole world is falling apart around him. And all he wants is a bit of control. So he's putting his whole life into his work because that's something he knows he can do. Dealing with the real world? Not so much."

Silence fell around the table. "Sounds like you know a thing or two about dealing with the real world," I eventually spoke curiously.

She rolled her eyes. "I just know how to read people."

She was lying, but no one commented, busying ourselves with the coffee and scones in our hands. I couldn't talk on behalf of everyone else, but the only thing on my mind was James. I glanced over at the counter and saw Lily lingering, her latte now in her hand but it was obvious she didn't want to head back to the Inquisition.

I found myself excusing myself from the table and headed over to where she was awkwardly hovering. She glanced up at me as I made my way over to her. "Avoiding us?" I said with a strained smile.

She frowned, glancing towards the door. "I was trying to plan my escape," she admitted with a quirked shrug.

"Why'd you show up today?" I asked hesitantly. It wasn't meant to be a harsh question. Just a curious one.

She didn't reply, taking a sip of her latte to stall. She met my gaze and I suddenly saw a mass of anguish flitting about in her eyes. "I don't know," she admitted. "I wasn't planning on coming but when I woke up this morning, everything inside of me was screaming to get over here. Maybe…" she stopped short, pursing her lips.

"Maybe what?"

She shrugged. "Maybe I was just tired of being alone in a dark and empty mansion. Maybe I thought that if I hung out with all of you, I would stop feeling so damned lonely," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Turns out, it's just making me feel lonelier." Her eyes grazed the table where our friends were sitting. I had a pretty good feeling it wasn't the six of us she was focusing on but the large gaping hole that the empty seat usually occupied by James provided. "But if this is what he wants, then what can a girl do?"

Ah, defensive Lily back in action. I hated that she felt so lost and lonely. When Caleb had died, it was hard showing my vulnerability around Kay, but I couldn't have gotten through it without her. "I know it's tough. He does such a great job avoiding everything and everyone. But even when he doesn't show it, he needs you. Please don't go running from him now. He-"

"I'm not the one running."

I hesitated, nodding slowly. "I know," I iterated, nodding desolately.

I could feel the eyes from our friends staring at us, wondering what it was the two of us could possibly have to talk about. I've always really liked Lily. It was hard not to like her. But I wouldn't by any means call her my best friend. The only times we've really ever hung out were either in groups or on a double date. I've never spent much time with her one-on-one nor did I particularly find that strange. Just because she was Kay's best friend didn't necessarily make her mine. But I did grow up with James. So I knew a thing or two about the way he reacted to tough situations. And I just didn't want Lily to be some kind of collateral damage from any sort of blow-up that may erupt out of James one of these days.

I could tell she was hurting. But I could also tell she was afraid to hurt. And therefore, she put up this tough exterior. She forced smiles on her face, showed up at these group get-togethers because it's expected, inserted laughs when she deemed it necessary, made a joke here and there so she didn't seem too depressed. But it was the flicker of frustration in her eyes, she way she always glanced towards the door, the extra glass of wine at dinner, the way she would get up from the table numerous times throughout the evenings, the whininess in her laugh that told me it was fake, the unnatural jokes that told me it was all a ruse. A way of making herself feel better when inside, she was desperate for James to be the one to make her feel better. Because he was the one who made that frustration disappear. He made her keep her focus on him and her friends. She didn't feel the need to drink her problems away. Her laugh felt genuine, her jokes felt real. She had always been a someone. And now, it was clear she felt like a nobody.

Eventually, Lily spoke. "Just once, it would be nice to walk in the door at night and have him greet me. Just once. Instead, I go home to a dark and empty mansion. Every night it's the same eerie silence. I've stopped wondering when he would get home and started expecting him not to show up by the time I slid into bed. It's depressing."

I wasn't sure what to tell her. Relationships were give and take and it seemed to me that Lily was doing all the giving and none of the taking. "Lily, just remember that he loves you."

She frowned. "I know he loves me," she spoke slowly. "But it'd be nice to know he needs me, too."

He needed her. I knew that. Lily knew that. We all knew that. Except for James. It was like he was in denial of needing anyone in his life except for himself. Then again, could you blame him? So many people in his life that ever meant anything to him were dead. "He does need you," I said hollowly.

She sighed. "Maybe he used to."

"He still does even if he's trying hard to ace like he doesn't," I retaliated immediately.

She didn't respond, clearly not convinced.

"Lily, I've known the guy for almost twenty-two years," I continued when she said nothing. "And it scares me sometimes when I look at the person he's deteriorated into. He doesn't know how to live his own life anymore much less a life that includes the girl he's madly in love with. He's just trying to figure things out."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," she muttered almost immediately.

I cocked an eyebrow. "What exactly are you afraid of?"

She frowned, swallowing the lump in her throat cautiously. She didn't respond, sipping her latte before saying softly, "That the moment he finally does figure everything out is the moment he figures out he doesn't want to be with me anymore."

"Never," I said almost immediately, shaking my head. "Lily, that guy has been in love with you since you were eleven-years-old. Since before he even knew what the hell love was. He's not going to give you up. Not now, not ever. So don't let him."

She didn't reply, but there was such a sadness about her I knew she wasn't so sure she believed me. "We should get back to the table," she said, her voice steady and yet hollow.

"Lily," I said, stopping her. "I know that you probably think of me more as your friend's fiancé, but I do know a little thing or two about James considering I grew up with him. So if you ever want to talk, I hope you know I'm here."

She glanced up at me, surprise in her eyes. It wasn't exactly like me to extend such an intimate courtesy to her. "Kay is really lucky to have you, Lance," she said with a sad smile.

I followed her back to the table, all eyes now on me, especially Kay's, but I could care less what they all were thinking. I was more worried about what was happening with Lily. She was slowly starting to come apart at the seams and I knew exactly who to blame. The problem was, James Potter was going through his own turmoil that it was hard for him to even realize how much he was hurting his girlfriend. But if he didn't start realizing that he wasn't the only one in his relationship, he wasn't just going to lost himself, he was going to lose her. And considering I had to hear hours and hours worth of James ranting about Lily Evans during his earlier years at Hogwarts, I knew that he would most definitely look back and regret the way he acted. But it was easy living in the past. It wasn't so easy living in the present. And right now, James was so far out of his element it was certainly not the present he was focused on. It was the future. The unpredictable, scary, confusing future.

Taking one peek towards Lily, I just hoped that that his unpredictable, scary, confusing future still included her in it. Not just for her sake but for his, too. I didn't even want to think what would happen to James Potter if Lily Evans wasn't in his life.

++SIRIUS++

Needless to say, that morning at Corner Joe's was awkward. Very awkward. No one knew what to say or do. We've been here before. The Sunday after Jaron had died, we all met up at Corner Joe's. Except that time, James showed up. Back then, he still needed us. Now, I wasn't so sure.

While my mind was primarily on James, I think that day at Corner Joe's might have been a little more awkward for me because of Keegan. We hadn't exactly left things on good terms the last time we talked. Which was probably my fault for encouraging her to tell me what had happened to her in the past. I, more than anyone, should know never to prod anyone to discuss any turmoil that had been caused in the past. I've been down that road and Merlin knows, I'd rather bury it and move past it. Except it's never that easy. And it had been clear to me that it wasn't easy for Keegan either. So I thought that perhaps I could help her get through it. Apparently, I was wrong.

"Rouge!" I cried out after her as we all dispersed from the coffee shop.

I could tell she froze but reluctantly turned around. "We don't have to do this, Black," she muttered.

"Do what?"

She scoffed. "You know what. The whole I-was-wrong, you-were-right, I'm-sorry, please-forgive-me act. It's already forgotten in my mind."

I frowned. "Liar."

She quirked a defensive eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It's not forgotten. We both know that."

"Yeah, well whose fault is that?"

I sighed. "I should have kept my mouth shut, Rouge. It wasn't my place to intrude. It was quite far from my place to intrude. Just because you had suggested we might have gone down a similar path of…of heartbreak didn't mean it was my turn to get to the bottom of yours."

"You bet your ass it wasn't," she snapped.

This girl was making it quite impossible to apologize. "I was wrong, you were right. I'm sorry. Please forgive me?" There was a hint of a grin on my face.

I could tell she was fighting a smile. "Fine. You're forgiven. We done here?" She turned her back on me, but I cried after her.

"To be fair, Rouge," I spoke. "You were the one who came intruding on my past first."

She halted, whirling around slowly. "Why must you always push my buttons, Black?"

I cringed. "I don't mean to."

"You're right, I did come to you first," she muttered, the tip of her ears turning pink. "And to this day I can't figure out what the hell was running through my mind. I blame my hazy mind on my recent break-up. But that moment has passed. We can go back to being our usual bickering selves."

I frowned. "I'm not sure that's possible."

Her jaw stiffened. "And why not?"

I shrugged, meeting her curious gaze. I chose to tell her the honest truth. "We know too much about each other."

"So what? I would hate to think you're going to start being nice to me because you pity me," she sneered.

This conversation wasn't going where I expected it to. "I'm not going to start being nice to you," I retaliated.

She rolled her eyes. "You're not making any sense, Black."

I sighed. She was right. "I know," I muttered, shaking my head. "Can we just…"

"Forget that the past few days happened?" she interrupted pleadingly.

I locked eyes with her, sensing desperation seeping from them. I knew I wouldn't be able to forget what had happened but I could tell she wanted to go on pretending as if she never told me about Tristan. And after the week we had, maybe it was about time I just gave her what she wanted. "Okay," I finally said with a curt shrug. "If that's what you want. But I've got to say, I'm pretty sure that James and Fabian aren't going to forget."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "James and I already talked. And…and I'm not trying to make Fabian forget about the break-up," she said slowly.

"I'm not talking about the break-up," I murmured. "I'm talking about Tristan."

She winced and I made a mental note to never mention that name again to her. "Fabian doesn't know a thing about Tristan and I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet."

I froze, realizing pretty quickly that I never did get the chance to tell Fabian about Tristan Moreau. And I never told Rouge about the unfortunate tie that Fabian Prewett and Tristan Moreau shared. Damn, I really wished that James had informed her about Fabian's older brother. "You said you spoke to James, right?" I said softly.

She was looking at me like I was crazy. Which I probably was. "About…" she hesitated. "About his brother, yeah."

I swallowed hard. "James wasn't the only one who lost a brother on that Auror training mission."

She froze.

"Does Darien Prewett ring a bell?"

Based on the alarming terror in her eyes, I had a feeling that it did.

++FABIAN++

I had briefly considered showing up to Corner Joe's but chickened out at the last minute, knowing that Keegan would probably be there. I knew I was being a bit of a coward, avoiding her. But I was so afraid that the moment I saw her, I'd forget all the reasons I broke up with her. And while my thought process may have seemed slightly skewed, I knew it had been the right thing to do. Keegan had a lot to figure out. With herself, with her life, with her relationships. And being with me wasn't helping any.

I was flipping through an archived crime article about Mr. Potter for my own curiosity when there was a knock on my door. I glanced up, confused. I made my way over to the door and glanced through the peephole. I froze when I saw that it was Keegan.

She knocked again and my first thought was to ignore her. But what kind of guy did that really make me? I attempted to compose myself before answering the door. We stared at each other for a few seconds before I finally found my voice. "Hi," I spoke softly. Wow, what a lame greeting.

"Hey," she whispered. She looked like a mess. Not to say she looked bad. She always looked great. But she looked quite frazzled and disheveled which was very unlike her. "Can I come in?"

Without speaking, I opened the door to let her in wondering what it was she could possibly want to talk to me about. Her gaze went directly to the mantel of the fireplace. I knew why. There used to be a photo the two of us there. Now, there was merely a gaping hole.

"You cleaned."

Yeah, because it kept my mind off of you. "I doubt you came here to talk about my maid skills, Keegan," I said, probably a little too coldly.

She sighed, whirling around to face me with a determined glint in her eyes. "Does the name Moreau mean anything to you?"

For the million things I thought she could have said, that certainly wasn't one of them. "What?"

"The Moreau family. Does it ring a bell?"

I stared at her, bewildered and shocked. I hadn't heard that surname in almost four years. But I certainly knew who they were. They were the poor family who innocently died so that my brother could die. But I wasn't about to rehash the horrible story of the Moreaus to Keegan. I'm not even sure why she was asking me about them. But whatever story she was writing for the Daily Prophet, I wasn't going to be a part of it. "Why are you here, Keegan?" I croaked out, my voice hoarse and weary.

She swallowed hard, slowly and carefully sitting down on the couch in the middle of the room. "The Moreaus had a son named Tristan," she said softly. "He-"

"I know," I interrupted hastily, shaking my head. "And I don't know what article the Daily Prophet is making you write and how you found out that…that I certainly do recognize the surname Moreau, but you can count me out. You can go back to Malone and tell him no comment."

I whirled around and stormed into the kitchen, hoping she would take a hint and leave. I don't know why I was so angry. Okay, that was a lie. I did know. Because there was a large part of me that was hoping Keegan showed up tonight to shed some light on exactly what went wrong with us. Instead, she was here to interview me. I paced my kitchen floor, counting to ten to attempt to calm down with very little luck. My fists clenched when I heard footsteps behind me but I didn't bother turning around. It would just make me angrier. "Didn't realize you couldn't take a hint, Keegan," I snapped. "But here let me help you. That was me ending the conversation. And me hoping you would leave."

"Fabian."

I froze. That one word was filled with so much desperation and guilt, her voice so soft and pleading. A light sob concluded the one word and I turned around slowly, my eyes meeting the tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I'm not here for the Daily Prophet," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. "This might come as a shock to you, but I'm here for you."

She looked so scared, so heartbroken. She didn't bother to wipe the tears from her eyes and instinctively, I closed the gap between us and pulled her into my arms. "Keegan, what's wrong?"

She held on to me tightly, taking a few minutes to even her breathing. Eventually, she stepped out of my arms and glanced up at me. "You were right about everything," she said softly, shaking her head. "I keep myself at a distance from every guy I'm with because I don't know how not to. I do have a past that I'd rather keep hidden because that's easier than admitting some of the things I've had to deal with. I am very guarded and so afraid of getting close to anyone. And every time I do get even remotely close to a guy, it comes to an end. Because it has to. There's no other option for me. Because I…" she trailed off, the words catching in her throat.

"Because you what?" I dared to ask.

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with regret and fear. "Because I was once engaged. And it ended in the worst way possible. So bad that I still haven't been able to get over it."

Well, that was news to me. "You were engaged?"

She couldn't even nod she was so clearly distraught but I saw the answer in her eyes. I wondered why she never told me.

"Do I even want to know how it ended?" I asked cautiously, afraid to hear the answer. I wondered what 'the worst way possible' could be. Cheating? Left at the altar? Left for another woman?

She shook her head but spoke anyway. "He died."

I froze. Well, that was definitely the worst way possible to end an engagement. "Oh, Keegan," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her fragile face. I've never seen her this tenuous before. She looked so ready to break, to fall apart. She was always so put together, so strong and confident. This girl standing in front of me wasn't the Keegan Rouge I was used to. And it hit me that this had been what I had wanted when I saw Keegan standing on my doorstep. This tiny bit of closure. This insight into why Keegan had turned into the rigid person she had become. And I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to go back to not knowing. Because I absolutely hated the idea that Keegan had been engaged at one point and lost the love of her life due to a tragedy such as death. No one should have to deal with death at such a young age; but to have to deal with the death of your fiancé, a guy you thought you were going to spend your entire life with? That must have been unbearable for her.

She took a step back, jerking away from my light touch. "Fabian, his name was Tristan Moreau."

I don't know how long I stood there in shock for. My heart beat faster and I blinked a few times, but my head was empty of all thoughts, my face void of any feeling. Keegan stood in front of me, but it was as if I was staring right through her.

When I finally grasped what she had just said, I breezed past her quickly without so much as another word and found my way to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I leaned up against that door, trying desperately to catch my breath and sort my thoughts. I wasn't the type to be caught so off-guard. Being an Auror, you learned to always expect the unexpected. I just never thought anything so unbelievably unexpected could pop out of Keegan's mouth. How is it that the wizarding world could be so vast and yet so small? The fact that Keegan's fiancé died just so that my brother could be one of the real victims a few days later? How was that fair? To me, to her, to anyone?

There was a slight knock on my door a few minutes later. "Fabian, talk to me," she pleaded.

I shut my eyes tightly, letting myself take a few deep breaths in and exhaling evenly before turning around and opening the door again, hoping I looked at least semi-composed. "Sorry, I just…" I trailed off.

"I know," she whispered, her eyes filled with remorse.

I let out a haggard sigh. "So I'm assuming you're telling me this because you know about my brother."

She nodded hesitantly.

"Why do you look so guilty?" I dared to ask. "It was…" the words caught in my throat. I had to wait a few seconds before continuing, "It was your fiancé who died at the expense of my brother. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be me."

She shook her head. "No," she was quick to argue. "You and James need to stop blaming yourself. It had nothing to do with you."

Ah, James. Well, that explained how she found out about any of this. "It's hard not blaming ourselves when an entire family of good people died just so a few Aurors could be the real target."

She shook her head again, reaching for my hand. It felt like such a natural custom and yet, I was suddenly very aware that she and I were no longer together. "I feel guilty, Fabian, because of what you said the other day."

That didn't really narrow it down. "Er…I said a lot of things."

She hung her head shamefully. "You said you were falling for me knowing that I would never fall for you back," she said hastily. "And you…you were right. But as it turns out, the one thing that has been keeping me from getting close to anyone might have been the one thing that could actually have drawn me and you closer. Because you might be one of the few people in this world who could have understood."

On impulse, I reached out and brushed my hand lightly over her warm cheek. "I do," I said softly. "Understand I mean."

She met my gaze and offered me a single nod. "I know."

I wanted so badly to kiss her in that moment. And I could see the lust sparkling in her eyes as well. It took everything within me to restrain myself. Because even though I finally did understand Keegan, it didn't change much. She still had a lot she needed to figure out. Just because she finally talked about what has kept her so guarded didn't mean she was ready to change it. She had already admitted that she hadn't fully gotten over the heartbreak she had had to endure when she lost her fiancé. So I turned my head away, choosing to fix my stare on the lamp in the living room behind her.

She took a step back, letting out a sad sigh. "Fabian, I'm really sorry about your brother."

I gazed down at her, breathing a sigh of relief when I realized that the moment had passed. "I'm really sorry about Tristan."

It was clear she was trying to blink back tears. "I'm really sorry about us," she whispered, barely audible.

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes locked. I didn't respond, uncertain what to say. I could have loved Keegan Rouge. A part of me probably already did. But I knew she wasn't the girl for me. It's like she said; all of her relationships had to inevitably end. She was already engaged once and look how well that turned out for her. Relationships weren't easy for her but break-ups probably were. And that wasn't going to change no matter how much I wish it could. "Yeah," I eventually said. "So am I."

A/N: Well we finally learn the mystery behind Tristan. Read chapter 32 of Kisses on the Balcony for a refresher if need be. And once again we deal with more broody James. Poor James. I just want to knock some sense into him. Clearly so does Lily.

Up next: Dumbledore, singed eyebrows, and more on the expose!