Author's Note

Please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

This is turning into more of a fluffy, wish-fulfillment piece than it is into a legitimate story. Though maybe I'm being too critical of myself. Hopefully, you'll read it anyways and decide for yourself.

PS I'm not JK Rowling, so I don't own anything :(

Ch 3: Meeting

Lily laid down and pretended to be asleep for the rest of the evening, too scared to even try to interact with her family and pretend everything was normal. What was she supposed to say to them? How would they even talk without damaging the timeline? What an impossible situation!

And on top of everything, now she had to sneak out later that night.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd snuck out. But usually she ended up at one of her cousin's places or her godmother, Luna's. Somehow it felt more deceitful doing it now. What with everyone freaking out over her sudden appearance and all.

She'd just rolled over to face away from the door when it opened.

"I told you it would work," Hermione said smugly even as the door clicked shut. Lily could tell the words had been threatening to burst from her aunt's lips all afternoon, since the second Lily arrived, and she'd pounced the very instant she was free to.

"Yes, Hermione, you always know best," Ginny said dryly. Then, much quieter, added, "Now shush, she's asleep, and I don't want you waking her."

How many times had she heard her mum say that to one of the boys? A pang radiated through her chest. A deep longing to be home and have her mum run her fingers through her hair the way she used to when Lily was younger and wishing she was at Hogwarts with her brothers.

"I thought you'd be more excited about this. You still have feelings for him, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Ginny said in a rush, and from the sound of things, flopped down on her bed. "I never really stopped… But I don't want to throw Dean over and go running to Harry just because he finally noticed me. Dean hasn't done anything wrong for me to hurt him like that, and…"

"You're worried Harry will change his mind if you make it too easy," Hermione guessed.

"Am I being ridiculous?"

"No," she said slowly, then sighed loudly. "Well, yes, but I understand."

"I know Harry isn't like that," Ginny said hastily, and even without seeing her, Lily could sense there was a but coming.

"The proof is lying right there," Hermione said pointedly.

"She's beautiful, isn't she," Ginny said almost dreamily.

"She's going to be just fine, Gin. None of us will let anyone hurt her," Hermione promised. Lily only wished she could be certain of her aunt's ability to keep that promise.

"What if we can't protect her? We're at war. There are no guarantees." The fear in her mother's voice was unmistakable, and Lily felt enormous guilt for being the source of it.

She'd always been closer to her parents than her brothers were. Less likely to act up or get into trouble. Probably a result of being the only one at home for two years while Jamie and Al were away at school.

"What did he say outside?"

"About what you'd expect. He likes me, has for a little while now, but there's a war on and a target on his back. Anything could happen, and he's worried about putting me at risk," Ginny said, as though reciting a familiar tale by rote.

"You're a Weasley and a known friend of Harry's. You were at the Ministry a few months ago. There are targets aimed at all of us," Hermione said breezily, waving Harry's concerns away like a pesky fly buzzing about her head.

"I tried to tell him that," Ginny spouted, then, much more grumpily, gripped, "but you know how he is. Always a bloody martyr."

"I think he's scared about letting himself care for someone else - after Sirius," Hermione said cautiously. Sirius. Lily hadn't made the connection before, but his death must have occurred very recently.

"Anyone of us could die tomorrow. Is that any reason not to make the most of today?"

"None of that now," Hermione chided. "Harry's going to live, and one day you're going to be a mum."

"I always wanted a little girl," Ginny said wistfully. Lily smiled despite herself, and was grateful the two couldn't see her face, or they'd immediately realize she was only feigning sleep.

Ginny told her once how grateful she'd been that Lily was a girl and that she hadn't had to try six times beforehand the way her own mum had. Harry had been in the room at the time, and had joked that he wouldn't have minded a few more. Ginny had fired back that he was welcome to carry them if he wanted more. That'd been the end of that conversation, but the memory made Lily smile fondly now.

"Get some sleep. We'll come up with a better plan in the morning," Hermione promised, quietly opening the door.

"Night, Hermione," Gin said softly, extinguishing the candle Lily had left burning for Ginny to see when she arrived.

"Night, Gin," Hermione replied, closing the door behind her with a tiny click.

Ginny's breathing had been slow and steady for close to two hours before Lily risked crawling out of bed. And she only did then because she was out of time to continue procrastinating. Any longer and she'd be late to meet Draco.

Quickly, she grabbed the cloak she'd been covered with earlier and slipped it on, tugging the hood up. Shielding her face wasn't necessary yet, but the act made her feel stealthier. You were what you believed, and all that.

Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears the entire way down the staircase of her grandparents' home. Nerves rattled her so much that she nearly forgot not to step on the third step from the bottom. It creaked loud enough that it could be here up in the attic, and the sound of it usually inspired the ghoul to bang against the wall just to not be outdone in terms of startling everyone.

Lily was in the family room with a handful of shimmering Floo powder before she knew it, but even as she tossed it into the dying embers and called out Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, she expected to be stopped. But she wasn't.

Quickly, she glanced at the clock before stepping into the green flames. 11:54. She had six minutes. That was barely enough time. Possibly she'd be late.

Fear of what Draco would do if she didn't show propelled her forward.

Luck was even on her side when she arrived in the flat above their store because her uncles were both asleep as well. Not wasting another second, Lily slipped out and down through the shop, leaving the door unlocked so she could sneak back in afterwards. Plus there was the fact she didn't have her key and couldn't use her wand. Being underaged was truly frustrating at times.

Ollivander's quickly came into sight, and she ducked into the small alley behind the shop as soon as she reached it, not wanting to risk being seen through any of the windows overlooking the street. Her uncles weren't the only ones to live above their shop in Diagon Alley.

Glancing around, Lily saw no evidence of Draco. Had she beaten him there? He didn't strike her as the type to be late. Whenever he'd come to dinner at her house in the past, he'd either been early or precisely on time. Punctuality seemed ingrained in his very character.

Confusion gave fear a stronger foothold on her. A million doubts suddenly swamped her, threatening to drown her. What if this was a trap? What if Draco had already told the Death Eaters about her? What if something happened to her before she could return to the Burrow?

It was slowly dawning on her that this was not the Diagon Alley of her time where she'd be safe venturing out at night. It had been incredibly reckless coming here without at least telling someone what she was doing. Everything in this time was unfamiliar to her. Anything -

"Aww!" she cried as hands clasped her shoulders from behind, startling her.

The hold was loose, and immediately she jerked free, spinning to face the person the hands had belonged to. The hooded figure was shrouded in shadows, and terror had her fumbling to pull her wand free from the pocket beneath her cloak.

A snort sounded when the tip got caught on the edge of the fabric, the wood slipping from her slick palm to clatter to the ground.

Flustered, Lily scrambled to retrieve it, feeling around on the dark concrete to locate the sleek wood. She felt ridiculous, particularly considering she was actually the best duelist in her year at Hogwarts. Another way she'd tried to live up to her family name, though in this case she actually enjoyed it.

"I wasn't sure you'd be brave enough to show up," the voice drawled from above her just as her fingers closed around her wand. He sounded very unimpressed by her clumsy attempt at self-defense, and she couldn't honestly blame him for it. "Right now it's a bit difficult to believe you're related to Potter."

"I am," Lily said angrily, standing to face him while silently berating herself. He'd lowered his hood, and the moonlight reflected off his pale hair like a beacon. His fair skin shone in the night, clearly lighting his features. The frown he wore belied his mocking, overconfident words.

"Actually, I take it back. You must be his daughter. Only a Potter would be this foolish."

"Foolish?" she repeated, uncomprehending. Had her internal monologue spilled out without her realizing it?

"I could have had a trap waiting for you. There still might be one," he explained, impatience filling his voice.

He seemed to expect her to be cowering. But she really didn't see any reason to. He'd obviously come alone. She'd already inadvertently disarmed herself. If there was a trap in place, that would have been the perfect moment to ambush her, but nothing had happened. And Lily doubted she needed to fear him.

"You wouldn't do that," she stated, willing her voice not to tremble and was gratified when it didn't. Her chin tipped up a notch as she stared defiantly up at him.

He watched her, seeming to search for a trick. Lily watched as his uncertainty melted away, replaced with an angry bitterness that roughly twisted face, screwing it up.

"Because I'm such a decent person?" he spat, parroting her earlier pronouncement mockingly.

"Yes," she confirmed, standing by what she'd said.

"You don't know me," he denied, shaking his head, and retreating a step.

"Yes, I do," she insisted.

"You expect me to believe Potter and I are friends in the future?" he sneered disbelievingly. "Try again."

"I can't say anything," Lily groaned, realizing what a predicament she was in.

The events of that afternoon were still fresh in her mind, a lingering pain in her temples adding weight to the reality of her situation and the potential dangers she faced should she make a mistake.

Or was that fresh pain? It seemed almost as if just being here renewed it, offering a fresh source to feed it. New blades punctured her temples, piercing deeply.

"I should take you to the Dark Lord. Maybe then… "

"Please, Draco!" Lily begged, grabbing his arms in a desperate attempt to hold him there. He made no move to leave, but still she gripped the sleeves of his robes, horrified by the possibility that he might carry out the threat.

Lily may not remember precisely what happened during the second war, but she knew her father was at the center of it, and her knowledge of the first war was still very much intact. Voldemort's cruelty was well established, and she had no wish to face him.

"Then tell me something. Anything," Draco commanded, the sharp instruction tempered with a hint of a plea. "Make me believe you are who you claim to be."

"You and my dad work together," she said, deliberately vague, though even that made the pain worse.

Lily tried focusing on the memories she had of Draco. She'd seen him a half dozen times a year growing up, and he always gave her and her brothers the best Christmas presents. Elaborate, expensive gifts that were always what she, Jamie, Al, and Teddy wanted the most. As if he could read their minds when selecting them. Ginny complained that he spoiled them, but Harry usually just shook his head while wearing an assumed smile.

He never really paid her any notice. Usually, he avoided even looking at her. It had always seemed so strange to her.

"That's the best you've got?" he said, thoroughly unimpressed.

"I can't," Lily tried again.

"I'm sure the Dark Lord will have no problem cracking your head open to see what secrets you've got hiding in there," Draco threatened, but it was weaker than it'd been earlier. Now it merely served as motivation for her to confess more.

Lily's eyes closed of their own accord, and she focused on the last time she'd seen him. It'd been the day before. Had it really only been a day? It seemed so much longer since she'd last been at home.

"Mum, can I spend tomorrow at Roxy's?" Lily asked, using her best innocent expression. Roxy had owled her earlier in the day inviting her, promising that she had something awesome to show Lily.

Ginny hesitated, so Lily looked to Harry for permission. It was then that she realized Draco was staring at her.

Ordinarily, he avoided looking at her, so the change was enough to have her demanding, "Why don't you ever talk to me?"

"It's a rather long and complicated story," he said, distinctly uncomfortable. Lily watched as his eyes shifted first to Harry then to Ginny. She got the distinct impression he was silently begging to be spared from answering.

Well that wasn't going to happen. There was no bloody way she was letting this go at that. Not after he'd been so cagey!

"I'm sure I can keep up," she challenged.

"This is all you," Harry said in reply to Draco's silent request, grinning as he sat back to watch. Jamie, having come by for dinner with the family - likely because he was out of food at his flat, and Al looked just as interested.

"How about this… Next time I see you, I'll explain everything," Draco offered.

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?" Lily asked dryly, not believing he'd honor that promise for a second.

"You play Quidditch, correct?" he asked, causing Jamie to snort.

In his mind, it didn't count unless you were at least as good as him. Cocky prat. It really was too bad she loved him so much. Uncle Fred had some great pranks she'd use on him if she didn't.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lily asked, wanting him to just get on with his explanation already. If she had to guess, she'd bet he was stalling in the hopes she'd lose interest or forget what she initially asked.

"My mum taught me. Most people think it was my father or that he perhaps hired a private instructor -" Draco cut himself off to shoot daggers at her dad.

"Don't look at me! No private instructor would teach you the wrong grip to hold a broom," Harry denied, boldly calling him out.

Jamie looked ready to pounce on the statement, but Draco continued before he could, explaining, "That was because my mum had not been allowed to play, so there was no one to correct her. It was considered beneath her as a pureblood lady already promised to my father by the time she began attending Hogwarts."

"Oi, still waiting here," Lily said impatiently, reminding him that she wasn't dropping the subject.

"My apologies, Miss Potter," Draco said, inclining his head contritely, though it did little to mask his obvious amusement. "I momentarily digressed. How about this? If I forget to share next time, just remind me that my mother lived through the war."

"You are so strange," she muttered, giving up because he clearly wasn't going to tell her.

"Lily!" Ginny scolded.

"What? You know what I mean," she said defensively.

"Harry, why don't you see Draco out, then we can spend the rest of the evening with Lil since she'll be gone tomorrow," Ginny suggested.

The rest of the evening had been spent with the entire family testing out the twins' new, much more elaborate version of Exploding Snap that they were developing for the store. It'd been a really great evening, exemplifying precisely why she loved her family as much as she did.

"Wait! Wait, please - your mum survives the war," she gasped, trying to clear her head. The memory clung to her, reluctant to fade, though the throbbing in her temples had lessened significantly.

"Don't you dare mention her! Was that a threat? Do you know what he's tasked me to do?" Draco shouted, sounding almost paranoid, or perhaps terrified. It was hard to tell which as he jerked away, retreating hastily from her.

"What? No! No, I swear I -"

"You don't know the first thing about my mum!"

"I know she taught you to play Quidditch. And that she taught you to hold a broom all wrong," Lily tried, tossing out bits from the dinner conversation, grateful now that he had rambled so much, giving her fuel for this conversation.

"How did you know that?" he demanded, truly shaken by her revelations.

"You told me," she said, willing him to believe her.

"You're really from the future. You're really Potter's kid," he stated, mouth falling open in shock.

"Yes."

"And you're sure she's fine?" he asked, seeking that reassurance. Lily didn't know Mrs. Malfoy personally, but Draco had told her to say that she was fine, so she assumed she was.

Lily nodded, afraid to say more.

Neither spoke for a long time. Draco seemed to need a few moments to process that she was, in fact, who she claimed to be. The silence seemed less oppressive, less threatening than it had when she'd first made her way to their meeting.

"What else do you know?" Draco asked quietly. There was fear in the question, but undeniable interest as well.

"I can't say anything else. Not without the risk of changing it - possibly making it worse," she admitted.

"Meaning she might… And since you obviously know me, I might… "

Lily nodded again.

"Don't say anything else then," he replied immediately.

"You won't tell him about me?"

"No," he said firmly. The clipped word possessed such fierceness that she didn't doubt him for a moment.

It was in that moment that Lily realized Draco was currently aligned with Voldemort. She didn't know why it hadn't dawned on her earlier, but it hadn't. Maybe it was that she'd known him growing up, and seen how friendly he and her dad were. The two ideas clashed. Too different to even consider side-by-side. Yet here they were.

His response told her something else too. Draco wanted Harry to win. Even now. To protect his mother. There was no way Lily could ever consider someone that so obviously loved his mother, and would attempt to protect her, as a threat.

Lily watched Draco, seeing him almost for the first time. There was a struggle within him, only barely concealed. A loneliness too. She could tell. What was he going through? Did he have anyone watching his back the way Ron and Hermione watched Harry's?

Earlier, Draco mentioned a task. "What has he asked you to do?" she asked quietly, emphasizing the he so he would not mistake her meaning.

"You don't know?"

"I can't remember. Since I've been here, my memory has been," Lily paused, searching for the right word to explain her predicament before settling on saying, "unreliable, and a little absent."

She waited for him to confide in her, to share what he'd been tasked with. Fear and distrust waged a war in him. Neither seemed to be gaining on the other.

"I won't tell anyone," she promised, offering incentive.

"Why should I trust you?" Draco asked, slumping wearily against the nearest brick wall.

"I'm trusting you," Lily countered.

"The Dark Lord has demanded that I murder Albus Dumbledore," he said, shocking her.

"But you're not going to do it," she said immediately. He wouldn't be forced to try. Dumbledore was already dying.

"I haven't got a choice," Draco moaned, revealing, "he's threatened to kill my mother if I don't."

"Go to Dumbledore - he'll protect you both," Lily suggested, approaching him. She reached to take his hand but he turned away, giving her his back.

"That's so easy for you to say," he muttered bitterly, shoulders rounding. He looked so defeated already.

It was too big an ask for one so young. To kill at all. But more importantly, to kill the greatest, most powerful wizard alive. The one person Voldemort himself feared, and repeatedly fled from. The only reason it would make sense for Voldemort to demand this of Draco, was if he was setting him up to fail. But why?

And why did it sound like Draco was planning to try, despite the deck being stacked against him?

"You don't have to be this person," Lily insisted.

"Isn't it about time you ran back to your little Weasley hovel?"

"Draco," Lily tried, more determined than ever to reach him.

She knew, knew, that Dumbledore didn't die at Draco's hand. But she couldn't tell him as much. Not without potentially changing everything.

"Go. I'll keep your secret. You don't have to pretend to care anymore," Draco said dismissively. When he turned to face her, a brow raised in expectation, Lily saw his shuttered expression, making it clear he wasn't willing to discuss the matter further.

"I wasn't pretending. You don't have to go through this alone," Lily said, trying again to reach him. He only stared at her impassively, waiting for her to leave. "Right. I'm sure you'll owl if you decide you want to talk."

Still nothing. Silence. Giving up, Lily pulled her hood up and began retracing the path to her uncle's shop. Lily didn't look back, but she knew Draco followed her, watching her until she was back inside.

The lights came on, blazing bright as the sun the instant she stepped into the flat. Lily froze, eyes squinting against the brightness. But even in the harsh glare, she could make out two bright red smudges. Red the same color as her mum's hair.

Great. Her uncles were awake and waiting for her.

"Where were you?" George demanded, crossing his arms as he glared at her.

"Just out. I needed a bit of fresh air after everything this afternoon," Lily replied immediately. "You have to admit, it's a lot for anyone to take in."

As far as lies went, she had to admit it was a pretty believable one. Too bad neither twin seemed to be buying it. Probably would have gone over better if she'd been caught at the Burrow coming in from the orchard, but she was working with what she had.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking, Lily?" Fred yelled, raking his hand through his hair. Of the two, he was the one she'd have expected to be more understanding.

"Don't act like you've never snuck out," she countered, trying to turn the tables on him.

"Not lately!"

"Not since things got as bad as they are," George clarified, trying to impress upon her how serious this was.

She swallowed, regretting causing them any worry. She'd started to realize the same earlier just before Draco arrived, but hearing them say it made it seem even more obvious now.

"Don't you know how dangerous this was?" Fred asked, lips thinning into a hard line.

"I'm fine," Lily promised, trying to reassure them that no lasting damage had been done.

"This time you are. But what about next time?" George acknowledged.

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit? No one knows me," Lily said weakly, hoping to defuse the situation a little. Except her words only seemed to rile them up even more.

"Overreacting? Today you told me I died during the war, then a second later that I'd be fine. All of our lives are in your hands. If You-Know-Who got his hands on you, we'd probably all die - including you," Fred ranted, pacing as he spoke.

Hearing him lay things out so plainly was a slap in the face.

Tonight had been reckless. Irresponsible and a mistake she could never make again. Her only excuse was that she'd not been thinking clearly. Fear, confusion, uncertainty… an unconscious desire to see Draco again… they all played a part in her ending up where she was.

"You're our niece. We don't want anything to happen to you, and because of who your father is, if something did, it'd be really bad, Lily," George added, apparently wanting to make amply sure she understood.

"I'm sorry. I swear I'll never do it again," she promised.

"You best be getting back," George said, nodding in acceptance of her apology.

"You're not going to tell Gran, are you?"

"Not this time. But we are telling Harry in the morning," Fred informed her unrepentantly. She swallowed, reaching into the Floo pot he held out to her.

"And if it happens again, yeah, we're telling Mum."