A/N:Thank you for the reviews! And I'm sorry for the long wait on this chapter - kept blocking me with some kind of error. ANNOYED. Fixed now though. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

Over the next fortnight, James reminded Helena of all the reasons she was his friend. She'd always known he had the potential to be a genuinely nice guy, but now he was showing it. She wasn't sure whether wounded pride might have stopped him from accepting all the advice she'd given him, but he'd done the opposite, and was embracing it whole-heartedly.

It was a shame Lily was responding anything but positively.

"It's not right, I'm telling you," Lily said abruptly in the middle of dinner one evening.

"What isn't?"

"This new thing Potter think's he's doing! I want to know what's going on."

Helena followed her gaze to the Marauders, where Sirius was trying and failing to get James to join him in a food fight. She shrugged. "I'm sure he's just maturing."

Lily's expression made it clear what she thought of that. "No. Whatever this new attitude is, it stinks."

"Oh? Why?"

"Because he can't be an arse for seven years and then do a complete u-turn on his whole personality! There's something fishy about it."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I know who he is and this is not it."

"Really?" Helena asked, sweeping a piece of bread around her plate of stew, "I thought you'd spent as much time as possible avoiding getting to know him."

Lily looked at her for a moment, then her hair began to seriously clash with the shade of red creeping up her neck. "Well of course I have! I'm just saying from a distance, as an impartial observer-"

"-an impartial observer who loathes the ground he walks on-"

"-there's something off about it, Helena."

"Why are you so sure it's not just natural personality evolution? It had to happen at some point—he wasn't going to be an arse for the rest of his life was he? I know you think he takes nothing seriously but he wants to be an auror for bloody good reasons, Lily. And the Death Eaters aren't exactly going to be a good crowd for comedy, are they?"

"I suppose not," her friend acknowledged, "but he hasn't asked me out once in about three weeks, Helena! That is out of character, you have to admit, even if she is maturing."

"Okay, so his tastes are maturing too. You were a teenage crush, now he's looking for something different. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Lily blinked in a startled way. "Of course it is."

"Well then what's the problem?"

"There isn't one I guess."

Helena smiled, though she could see how confused Lily was, by her own reaction more than anything. She'd known she didn't hate James, but if she'd been honest, her realistic goal had been them as friends. Now it looked as though she didn't know Lily's heart as well as she'd thought.

No matter what Helena said, Lily was still suspicious. People did not change overnight the way James Potter had. She'd seen him helping younger students for God's sake! He was doing it again right now, sitting in the common room with a second year and going through the best method for swelling solutions with him, soothing the boy's fears with assurances that he was going to be fine.

"In potions maybe, but I'm definitely going to fail in everything else," the kid said miserably, "I may as well quit now. No way I'm going to pass Trasnfiguration. I can't face McGonagall at the best of times."

"She's not that scary providing you work hard," James smiled. Had he always had such a nice smile, Lily thought idly? "Even if you're failing, as long as you're giving it your all, she'll help. She's not a gorgon, you know, even if she seems that way. And that if worst came to worst, you could even go and talk to Dumbledore."

The boy's jaw dropped. "Dum-Dumbledore? I'm not important enough to go and talk to Dumbledore!"

"All students are important to Dumbledore, second or seventh years."

"Really?"

"Really."

The second year smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem. Are you going to be okay from here? I have to go and patrol the corridors, make sure no one's breaking curfew."

Lily blinked, looking at her watch in surprise. They did have to go and patrol the corridors, as part of their duties as Head Girl and Head Boy, but she couldn't remember the last time James had voluntarily fulfilled any part of his duty. Another suspicious thing she had to chalk up. She hastily put her books away and followed him out of the portrait hole. He didn't start flirting immediately, which set Lily on edge immediately. They'd walked around about half of the castle by the time he spoke.

"So… How did you do on the Herbology essay?"

"Okay. Professor Sprout said I needed to work on my diagrams more. My Eurdorean Briar Rose wasn't precise enough."

He nodded. "Mine wasn't brilliant either. Got a decent mark for it though."

Another thing that didn't feel right—he was doing well in schoolwork now because he was trying rather than because he was blagging his way through. "I have a feeling she'd marked mine right after Helena's, though, and you know what an artist she is when she has a mind to be."

He nodded, and they lapsed into silence again. Lily waited for it. And waited. And waited. But still nothing. By the time they'd rounded up a couple of Slytherins, three Hufflepuffs and escorted about half a dozen Gryffindors back to the tower, her patience had run out. "Alright, what's going on?" she demanded, coming to a halt outside the Fat Lady.

"What do you mean?"

"With you. What are you trying? Because I can tell you know, if this is some elaborate plan to get me to go out with you, it's not going to work."

He frowned. "Evans, what are you talking about?"

"You might have Helena convinced into thinking you're maturing, but I know better. You're not fooling me one bit, Potter."

His expression closed. "Whatever, Evans."

Lily blinked at the sudden chill in his tone, but when she opened her mouth to say something, words wouldn't come. James didn't wait for words, and moved into the common room without another word. When she followed, he was nowhere to be seen.

The next day, a very depressed-looking James sat down next to Helena at breakfast, helping himself to fried eggs and then poked at them with a fork. "What's up with you?"

He sighed, breaking the yolk of one of the eggs and watching the yellow bleed out over his plate. "It's not working." At her questioning look, he elaborated. "With Lily, it's not working. She thinks I'm being conniving and that it's just a trick. She seemed really pissed off."

"So what's the problem?" she asked. "It seems to be working perfectly to me."

He squinted. "How'd you work that out?"

"She cares. If she was completely apathetic about it, then you'd have a problem. But the fact that you've unsettled her so much means we're getting somewhere. Either that, or she genuinely hates your guts. Which she doesn't," she added hurriedly at the forlorn look which must have crossed his face.

"You really think so?" he asked, unable to help the hopeful note in his voice.

Helena squeezed his shoulder. "I do. Don't lose hope—keep playing it cool, and you're going to get her attention in all the best ways."

James still wasn't convinced, but Helena seemed so sure it was going to work. And he'd trust a girl to know what was going on inside a girl's head better than anyone. But the truth was he needed this to work. Asking Lily out all the time when she was in the same castle was one thing; once they graduated from Hogwarts he couldn't follow her around and do the same thing. That would be stalking, and he wasn't going to do that. If Lily didn't want him by the end of summer term, then he'd just have to accept that heartbreak was going to be it for him for a very long time.

Apart from the occasional encouraging smile or remark, he didn't get much more from Helena. The only times he saw her were classes, meal times, and her back as it was disappearing up the staircase, her hand in Sirius'. That, and she giggled now. Equally disturbing was the suspicion which had been growing in his mind—that Padfoot was actually falling for her. How you could know a girl from childhood, be one of her best friends for years, and only then fall for her, he wasn't sure. With Lily, he'd liked her from the first moment he'd seen her. Her hair was just… And then her eyes, they just… Her mouth was… When she smiled, she lit up the room…

Sighing, James shook his head. Who was he kidding? Until the day the train dropped them off at King's Cross for the final time, he was never going to give up on Lily. She was worth trying. She was worth anything. And since every other plan had failed, Helena's was certainly worth following through. So he'd spent weeks going against every impulse which crept up on him. No cursing the Slytherins unless under duress, no boasting about Quidditch—even though he'd made some spectacular catches recently—and getting all his homework in on time. Lily's open hostility to the idea hadn't lasted more than a couple of weeks, thankfully, and after a few more days of watching him carefully she'd dropped the guard. Not enough to actually give him any indication of whether she liked him back (that would have been too easy), but enough to tell him that she didn't despise him, either. By the time they got to the Christmas holidays, he still hadn't lost all hope…but it was getting harder not to.

One advantage to working hard, however, was that he knew his mocks had gone well. They couldn't not have gone well. Defence Against the Dark Arts particularly well. Those results, when they were ready, would be sent to the Auror Office at the Ministry, and hopefully he'd be offered a probationary place as an auror, as would Sirius. He couldn't help noticing how flawlessly Lily had done as well. Especially in Charms—she'd cast a disillusionment charm so well on herself that it had actually been impossible to spot her when she stood against the castle wall. It was depressing to realise that he probably would never see her again if this didn't work.

However, all that changed on the platform at Hogwarts station when they broke up for four weeks. Pushing his trunk on the train after the rest of the Marauders, he was just about to climb aboard when a voice called his name.

"Potter! Potter!"

He didn't take any notice until a hand fell on his arm. "James, wait, please."

A little stunned and not able to believe his luck, James found himself looking into Lily's anxious face. He let go of the train. "What's wrong, are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, but…I came to apologise."

"Apologise?"

"Yeah. I've been horrible to you recently. If you really are growing up then I can't criticise you for it. I'm sorry I was so suspicious of your motives. You're obviously relieved you've done well in your mocks, so…I'm sorry."

"Um- No problem."

"I mean I wouldn't blame you if you hate me. I was kind of a bitch."

He smiled. "You're not a bitch, Lily. And it's not like I haven't given you reason to think I'm an idiot."

"True," she smiled nervously. "So we're okay? What I mean is…can we be friends?"

He grinned. "Of course. It'll be weird, but I think we'll be good."

"Cool. Have a good Christmas."

"You too. I'll see you after New Years."

They parted with more smiles, and James didn't so much step up onto the train as he did float onto it. It was more progress than he'd made in seven years. He needed to find Helena and thank her right now.

When he found Helena's compartment though, something told him he shouldn't just open the door. It could have been the fact that the window had been made opaque, or the sounds of an argument coming through the door, or it could have been the red bra hanging from the doorhandle. James caught the end of a sentence.

"…had it last!"

"I think you'll find you had it last."

"You were the one ripping it off! I swear, if it's decorating the Scottish countryside somewhere, Sirius, I am going to kill you."

"What does it matter anyway? It's not like they sag, Hellfire."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of compliment?"

"Depends. If I say yes are you going to hit me?"

There was a muffled slap, followed by an "Ow!"

Holding it gingerly between finger and thumb, James picked up the bra and slid the door open a few inches, not looking inside. "Looking for this?"

It was snatched from his hand with a sigh of relief. A moment later, Helena opened the door—fully dressed, thankfully—looking annoyed. "Thanks, Prongs."

"Any time. Well, actually not any time. I'd prefer not to do it again, if I'm honest."

"Well, as long as someone looks where he's throwing it next time, we won't have this problem."

"How is it my fault? All I wanted was a goodbye shag-"

"Still in the room, guys!"

They fell silent at that, Helena colouring. She cleared her throat. "Right, well I think I'll go and find Lily." She kissed his cheek. "Have a good holiday, James. I'll see you when we get back." She nodded at Padfoot. "Sirius."

When she'd gone, Sirius made the glass in the compartment door go transparent again, and sat down staring mutteringly out of the window. "Anyone told you that whole thing is weird?" James asked conversationally.

"No. Don't."

"You can admit you're going to miss her, you know. Four weeks is a long time."

Sirius made a dismissive noise. "There are other girls."

"Uh huh."

Sirius looked over at him, frowning. "What's your point, Prongs?"

"No point."

Helena was disturbed from her sleep by a soft knock on her bedroom door. Groaning, she rolled over to look at the time; half past ten in the morning. The knock sounded again. She sat up in her huge four poster, stretching her arms.

"Come in."

The door opened, and in came Dobby bearing a tray of her breakfast. He bowed. "Dobby is wishing you happy birthday, miss. Here is your breakfast and post, miss."

Helena smiled and took the tray from him. "Thank you, Dobby. Am I still expected at dinner tonight?"

"Yes, miss. And Mistress says you is to be ready and dressed in an hour. She is taking you to Diagon Alley to buy you a new set of dress robes, she says."

Helena sighed. It sounded good, a shopping trip with her mother, but all Veronique Malfoy would be interested in doing would be to criticise everything her daughter picked out and push clothes that Helena hated on her. She doubted they'd leave London with anything she would ever wear outside of the manor. Tonight would be even worse. Her birthday was the solstice, about the only day that was actually celebrated under the Malfoy roof. Christmas itself was an entirely-too-muggle holiday, but the solstice? That had been there in the time of Morgana and Merlin. They would be celebrating that tonight, up all night to see the sunrise tomorrow morning, which meant any marking of Helena's birthday would be confined to a formal dinner tonight, with her future sister-in-law if she was lucky. Joy of joys.

"There are also your presents, miss," Dobby squeaked. "Delivered this morning by owl."

"I'll have to open them later," she sighed, getting up and opening her wardrobe. "I don't have time now."

"Very well, miss. Can I do anything else for you, miss?"

"No."

He bowed again, and backed out of the room. Helena picked out the most muggle of her clothes, knowing it would irritate her mother more than anything else. About twenty minutes later she was dressed in a mini dress and go-go boots, with a flowered ribbon as a headband. She used a hair potion to get her hair into the perfect waves before starting on her breakfast. As always, it was delicious. Dobby was always good with his food, but on her birthday for as long as she could remember he'd made eggs benedict, with crispy bacon and buttered toast on the side. And a pot of fresh Arabian coffee too.

Sequestered in her room, Helena took the tray to the window seat and looked out over the grounds as she ate. The lawn was still emerald green, kept that way by magic even in midwinter. The white peacocks were still strutting their stuff around the fountains and rose bushes. It was a beautiful view, and she would miss it. Probably one of the only things she would miss. In summer, when it was warm enough, she spent hours outside. Free of the oppressiveness of the house and her family, at least for a time. But from this summer, she was getting real, true freedom. Out of this house forever.

When she finally emerged from her bedroom, her mother was not pleased she had been kept waiting. Nor was she pleased that Helena was carrying the tray down. "Are you a common servant?" she snapped.

"No. I'm just not lazy."

"Hurry then."

She did so, and then joined her mother in the huge fireplace in the entrance hall, grabbing a pinch of floopowder as she did so. "Diagon Alley."

It was busy when they arrived, chock-full of wizards doing last minute Christmas shopping. Her mother wore a faint expression of distaste about the whole thing. "No doubt Madam Malkin's will be swarming."

"I don't see why we have to be here at all," Helena said. "It isn't as if I have a shortage of robes, Mother."

"You have a shortage of ones which suit your colouring and figure," Veronique contradicted her. "In any case, if you must be seen out in those ridiculous clothes then obviously you do not have enough robes."

"I like these clothes."

"Well, it was never said that good breeding made good taste."

They spent two agonising hours in the robe shop, with everything Helena picked out being instantly dismissed by her mother, and vice versa. Eventually they settled on a compromise—a set of dark green dress robes, made of the finest hand-spun silk and lace, naturally. Veronique surveyed her daughter appraisingly. "Such a shame. You almost look as though you belong in those colours."

"Well there's the same set in scarlet over there," Helena quipped.

At least she liked the fit. It had a slit up the skirt to the thigh, showing off her legs, which were her favourite part of her body. The neckline was high, but wide, showing her collarbones and the tops of her shoulder.

"Let's just buy it."

It had put her mother in a fine temper for the rest of the day; as soon as the robes were wrapped and in Helena's hand, Veronique led her all around Diagon Alley getting a succession of things Helena knew she didn't really need. The trip culminated in a trip down Knockturn Alley, of all places. She hated it at the best of times, but in these times… In these times she felt uncomfortably conspicuous being a Gryffindor down there. Veronique ducked into a shop selling rare (read: illegal) potion ingredients, directing her daughter to Borgin and Burkes with a purse of galleons.

"Your father requires a Jakari death mask. Ensure Burke does not try and pawn off a Manuri one for the same price; they are very similar-looking."

Scowling, Helena took the money thrust at her and left the potions shop, moving down the alley to 13B. The bell above the door of Borgin and Burkes tinkled pleasantly in a way that belied the nature of the goods on sale. It was dark and musty inside, full of things which seemed to be moving in the corner of her eye, but not when she looked directly at them. After a moment or two in which Helena stood in the middle of the room and far away from anything, the curtain behind the counter flicked to one side.

Burke smiled greasily and bowed. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I wish to purchase a Jakari death mask, or order one if you can't provide me with one today."

"I see. A potent item for potent magic."

"Yes. For my father's use."

"Ah, I see, I-" He cut off, peering more closely at her, eyes fixed on hers in a way not as leering as they had been before. Suddenly he took a step back, seeming afraid. "For- Forgive me, miss, have we met before?"

"No." If they had, she certainly would have refused to come in here again…

"And your family name…?"

"Malfoy."

He blinked again, fear apparently replaced by puzzlement. "Malfoy, really? I beg your pardon, Miss Malfoy—you bear little resemblance to your parents."

Helena stared in increasing concern, with no idea what in the hell he was talking about. She cleared her throat. "My item?"

He'd still yet to take his eyes from her face, but nodded. "Yes, we do have one in stock at the moment. Would you like it boxed?"

"Yes. Immediately."

He nodded slowly, but still didn't move. Helena was very, very glad when the door opened again and admitted her mother. Burke launched into action, disappearing out the back again. Helena, released from the beam of his gaze, swallowed hard and wondered why she felt so vulnerable.

"Well, do they have it?" Veronique asked.

"Yes, he's just getting it. I- I'll meet you back in Diagon Alley, Mother. Excuse me."

She almost ran out of the shop and back up into the sunlight of the main shopping arcade, breathing hard. She still couldn't think of any reason why she should be so afraid. But she was. Her heart was pounding, her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry. She still hadn't calmed down when her mother arrived. She frowned when she saw Helena. "You look quite flushed. I do hope you've not been running, Helena. It's not seemly for a lady to run in public."

All in all, she was incredibly relieved to be going home again. It wasn't until she had been given a cup of tea that she really felt calm again. And slightly embarrassed over the way she'd panicked for no reason whatsoever. Sipping at her earl grey, she let out a deep sigh. Dobby paused in his polishing of the silverware.

"Is you alright, miss?"

"Fine. Fetch my birthday presents, would you?"

He bowed. "Of course, miss."

A few seconds later, he reappeared with a small bundle of parcels for her. "Here you are, miss. Anything else Dobby can do for you?"

"No, thank you, Dobby, you may get on."

The first package was from Lily, and unsurprisingly was a book, large and heavy. It was a fully illustrated biography of St Mungo and the building of the hospital. Flicking idly through it, Helena had ideas of drawing another map, one detailing all the hidden passageways of the hospital. There had be some—granted, St Mugo's wasn't as old as Hogwarts, but it was still a building with centuries' worth of magic impregnated in the walls. Helena smiled as she closed the book for now. Certainly, Lily would not have had that in mind when she sent it. James had sent her what he always had: a huge package of sweets, with all the old favourites and a few new ones. Some of which Helena didn't necessarily like the look of, but she'd give them a go anyway. Probably once they were back at Hogwarts, and probably once they'd all consumed copious amounts of mead. Peter had done what he normally did, and copied James. Remus had been his usual kind, thoughtful self. In their letters she'd explained how much trouble she was having sleeping through the net—another thing she could not explain—so Remus had sent her a recipe for a dreamless sleep potion. She already had access to one in her potions books, but he'd included annotations in this one, like: I know how hopeless you are with potions.

"Cheeky sod," she muttered cheerfully.

There was a card from Sirius, Happy Birthday in an untidy scrawl, but no present. There was a post script though. Still looking. I'll give it to you when I find it!

A/N: Please review. It was my birthday yesterday :D