September 2nd, 1995
The Leaky Cauldron

"After what happened with the Tournament last year, I just don't feel like he's safe there."

Delia eyed Lily for a moment, lightly sipping her wine in thought. After what felt to be forever, she forced herself to speak:

"Albus has his faults, but he's no fool," Delia said tiredly. "I have my quarrels with him, as does Cornelius, but, at the end of the day, Albus is probably the only thing standing between You Know Who and the absolute collapse of the British wizarding world. I wouldn't say I'm comfortable with it, but I have faith in…Albus' abilities."

Lily rested her palm against her head, closing her eyes for a few seconds.

"Perhaps I am simply ruminating," She muttered. "Harry and El have survived quite a lot since that night, and…"

"Well, between the violence your family has endured, and the media obsession, I can't say that I blame you for being worn out," Delia sent the small group of people that had begun to crowd around them a threatening look, pursing her lips and reaching for her wand. Almost immediately everyone scuttled away. "Case in point," She lowered her voice. "I can't say I envy you."

Lily rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't be able to survive being Lily Potter," She told her. "The only thing we had in common when we met was that both of us grew up with parents and siblings with no magic."

Delia smirked. "I'll give you that. Though," She hesitated, lowering her voice, all amusement leaving it. "You never have told me what happened that night."

Lily flinched. "You've been pressing me for years," She glanced around. "I…"

A small grey car had pulled up on the sidewalk in front of the house. The driver's side door had been just about ripped open, and the young woman who had been driving suddenly ran towards the house. It was damaged – had there been a fire? Her hands had begun shaking. It had been dark, barely past three in the morning. People had already been there, most of whom she recognised. The others had been aurors, she was sure. They had recognised her. They had tried to stop her, but she had been quicker. She had ran through the open door, barely able to breathe until she reached her son's room. He had been crying, and she had lifted him out of the crib, holding him close. It had been then she noticed they were not alone. She had shakily sat down, her barely year old son tugging at her when she had set him down too. She had reached over, unaware of all of the people who had followed her in. She had leaned over, trying to find a pulse on her husband. She had quickly found none. She had screamed, a terrible, piercing, agonising scream that she had pulled her husband towards her. She had heard her son start crying again, and she had fallen over onto her husband's body. Her son had crawled over to them, and had started crying on her. She had barely felt it when she had been forcibly pulled off her husband's body. She had barely felt it when she and her son had been brought to hospital. And she had not known what to say to her sister in the days after, despite having been to visit her sister's family and her that night, October the 31st, 1981, and that had been why she had lived and…

"I'll tell you later," Lily whispered. "I wish you hadn't brought it up, though. So, I have something to ask you, too: what caused you to end up here?"

Delia stared at her in surprise, setting down her wine with shaky hands.

"What does it matter?" She finally said. "At the end of the day, I was put on probation and had no choice but to come here. I only had two friends, two defenders, and as you know we're still close today."

"I know," Lily managed to smile a little. "Victor Picquery and Allison Kowalski, right?"

Delia nodded. "They were the only people Neil and I had at our wedding. His brother's wife refused to let him go when she found out we weren't letting Alyssa come after how awful she had been to me since the day she had met me."

"I'll never understand why your mother in law is so awful to you," Lily had shaken her head. "You did mellow out a lot after you had kids, but you were never too terrible."

Delia scowled. "Never too terrible?"

"Well," Lily said, sparking up a cigarette. "I will say that it's a good thing James and I met you the way we did, or I probably wouldn't have taken it well when the Ministry appointed you as our escort in the very beginning of 1980."

Delia grimaced. "Again, I was on probation in the States. I had no choice. Believe me when I say the only good things that came from that arrangement were meeting my husband, and becoming friends with you, the latter of which was towards the end of my…punishment."

Lily shrugged. "You were at least to the point and didn't make things seem so relaxed and reassuring. Almost everyone else around us took the approach of 'don't overly frighten the young couple, especially because she is pregnant.' So much as you struck me as…cold, at first, at least you were honest."

"My youngest child had just been born a few weeks before I was given that assignment in early January of 1980," Delia had paused to have a little more wine. "What did you expect when you found out that the woman six years your senior had three young children and a stressful job?"

"I suppose that's fair," Lily said, taking a long draw on her cig. "Weren't you sent here when you were twenty two?"

"Yes," Delia could barely mask the annoyance in her voice. "And, come to think of it, I still haven't forgiven former Director Thicke for those ten years. I wasn't even granted my full auror licence back until 1986 because I had been forced here in mid January 1976. What a dick. I suppose it's some comfort I ended up replacing him in 89' but my point still stands."

"You always have been arrogant," Lily laughed. "How did you manage to replace him?"

"Let's just say that I have always wanted to be in the room where it happens," Delia said, adjusting her glasses. "In all seriousness, it was a mix of both the work I had done as an auror up until You Know Who disappeared, and because I had saved a group of young, aurors in training from being killed by a cult in 87' when I had been assigned to lead them through a six week…handling of things in the Midwest."

Lily blinked at her, surprised. "Handling…what?"

"Most of it was tedious obliviating no majs and arresting people, almost all of them violent and torturing no majs," Delia narrowed her eyes in thought. "But some of the aurors in training were caught up in a fight with someone far too powerful for them to handle, and I had to stop them from getting hurt. One of them was almost killed. I suppose they assumed that, since I had managed to get one of the worst people out there arrested and none of the aurors in training died, I was capable. Some days, I still can't believe it."

"You more than earned it," Lily shook her head, taking another draw on her cig. "You've always written, always worked as though you're running out of time, never mind that you have three kids. You have a close and loving relationship with your husband, and are a good mother, but you've never stood still. I assume it was always your goal to get where you are today?"

Delia hesitated. "Yes," She said, looking around so quickly she nearly fell over. "I –"

"Ah, tomorrow's cover is just here, right before me! How exquisite!"

Lily nearly dropped her cigarette on herself, and Delia, still on edge, turned around, shielding her face with her arms as more camera flashes went off.

"Miss Skeeter!" One of the aides with a camera turned to his boss with wide eyes. "Is there –"

"Put that away," Delia stood up, covering the lens of two of the cameras with her hands. "As for you, Rita –"

"Delia," Rita stepped towards her and cupped her face in her hands, much to Delia's disdain. "You are the Minister's wife, and you are frequently with Lily Potter or your other…important friends from your own country."

"So?" Delia kept her hands over the camera lenses. "Scram, Rita. Go find someone more interesting to bother."

September 5th, 1995
Hogwarts

"Mister Malfoy, if you don't put that away this instant, I will ensure you will never see it again."

The entire class froze the second the doors slammed shut behind their new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor. Her hair as wild as her eyes, Nymphadora Tonks strutted into the room, swept up the small bag of powder Draco had been showing his friends, and dropped it into her pocket without so much as looking at them as she passed. She then all but attacked the chalkboard with her wand, and it began to spell out the curricula. She hopped up onto the desk and kicked off her shoes. She drew up her legs to be cross legged, and appraise them all. She caught the disdainful eye of Draco and several other Slytherin students. Perhaps to mock them, she intentionally transformed her feet to talons. Pansy Parkinson let out a shriek of disgust. Across from her, Shyanne Fudge leaned over, oddly leaning backwards so they were upside down, to flip her off with both hands, their wand in their hair. Harry and Ron started laughing, ignoring the disapproving look from Hermione.

"Alright!" A sharp snap rang out throughout the room. It silenced everyone in an instant. "That's enough fun. You all are…fifth years, correct?"

Everyone nodded, including Shyanne, though in the process they nearly flipped forward onto the floor.

"Mx. Fudge, if I were you, I would learn to sit in a chair like a normal human being," Tonks sent them a pointed look. "Although, having met your mother, I can see why that may very well be a challenge."

"Says the woman with talons for feet," Shyanne muttered, scowling as they shoved their glasses back into place.

The class started to snicker, falling silent when their professor set off another small explosion.

"Tell me," She began, curiously looking over all of them again. "How many of you want to be aurors?"

Some murmuring sprung up, but over half of their hands, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione's slowly raised. Tonks clicked her tongue with a frown.

"Maybe a third of you, by the time you get through your NEWTs, will even be considered as applicants," She coldly informed them. "And, maybe, half of those selected will make it through the three year training process. Some of you might want to reconsider."

Her gaze fell on Neville, one of the only Gryffindors who seemed less than enthralled by the thought of becoming an auror.

"Seems to me that some of you have ideas of…alternate career paths," She jumped down, her natural feet returning. She walked over to Neville, stopping in front of him and offering him a kind smile. "Have you any ideas, Mister Longbottom?"

Neville looked up, startled. "Yes," He admitted. "I…I've considered healing."

She raised an eyebrow. "You have the aura for that," She finally said. "Pale green. That is the aura of a natural Healer."

Neville fidgeted uncomfortably, staring down at his hands. "T-thank you?"

She patted his shoulder, and then started back towards the front of the room.

"You would be horrified to know just how many dead bodies I've seen on the job. I went into a home, once, with a team of fellow aurors, on a routine job," Tonks lectured. "I went into one of the rooms, and opened a closet, only to find a dead woman hanging up there by her feet, blood oozing from her neck."

Half the class gagged at the thought. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked between each other in abject horror.

"The Ministry has one thought of what is important to learn during your OWL years, but I have never concurred with it," Tonks continued, crossing her arms. "I have some leeway I wouldn't otherwise because of the…situation. But I will be teaching otherwise…untaught, old curses, and hexes, as well as their counters. I don't care if I'm legally covered for that or not," She sent a pointed look towards Shyanne. "I am not taking any of this lightly. As well –"

"Because we should be taking advice from a blood traitor like you," Draco remarked under his breath, swearing loudly when Shyanne all but stabbed him in the back of the leg with the heels of their stilettos. "Your mother is a mudblood, Shyanne, don't you –"

"That's more than enough," Tonks snapped, giving Draco a dark look. "If you use that word again," She said coldly. "I will not hesitate to give you three weeks detention, which would include mandatory, extracurricular work into muggle studies."

Draco stiffened. "You wouldn't dare."

She narrowed her eyes, coming over to him, her face only a few inches from his. "Believe me," She hissed. "I will not tolerate people like you destroying what it means to be a Slytherin. You are not loyal, nor are you fraternal. You…you are a fool."

"This is going to be a good year," Ron whispered to Harry.

"I sure hope so," He replied. "It'd be nice, for a change."

"That goes for all of you. I'm not going to tolerate that kind of language. But that isn't today's lesson," Tonks said, beginning to pace up and down the classroom. "People underestimate how difficult it is to be competent as an auror. It seems that is especially true for all of you. I know a lot of you have lofty dreams, and I certainly did at your age too. But the question is: at what point does dreaming become detrimental and unrealistic?"

"When it destroys rational decision making," Hermione said almost instinctively. "You need to be able to make rational decisions to analyse if something is safe, or not, if you're at your own limits, or not."

"It's a great deal more than that, but, yes," Tonks agreed. "What is so detrimental and unrealistic about making decisions based on such aspirations is that it disregards the true nature of what you are considering taking up. None of you can fathom –" She paused, glancing at Harry. "Very few of you," She amended. "Can fathom seeing death, let alone staring it in the face."

"Is that necessary?" Seamus eyed her strangely. "Most of it is stopping dangerous people before they do any damage!"

"You're simplifying," Tonks shook her head. "Unless you can recognise that, every time you encounter someone even half that dangerous, you could die or see someone else die, you're underestimating. I would go so far as to say you're severely underestimating."

September 7th, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place

"I have to say, I'm worried about you, Sirius," Remus sat down across the table from his husband, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's bothering you?"

Sirius hesitated, absentmindedly stirring his butterbeer with his finger.

"It's Harry," He finally said. "Well, Eleanor, too, but to a lesser extent. She's…always taken after Lily."

"I wouldn't say that," Remus said. "She always feels she has something to prove, always is clawing for her own spot in the light, especially if we're talking about attention from her mother."

"I guess," Sirius paused. "But, by and large, I've never seen El be anything less than calm. But Harry…he's seemed upset these last few months, and I just can't seem to figure out why."

"His encounter with Voldemort, likely, is still bothering him," Remus calmly said, reaching over the table to rest his hands over Sirius.' "One of his classmates was murdered in front of him, he was forced to confront the man who killed his father and meant to kill him and his mother. I can't even begin to imagine how that must have felt. Surely it wouldn't be unusual if that were still on his mind, would it?"

Sirius sighed. "Maybe I am reading too much into things," He said quietly. "But I don't know. Even Lily is more concerned than I have ever known her to be. It can't be just that."

"She is his mother," Remus reminded him. "After losing James, of course she's going to be constantly worried about her children, and certainly now that all of them are in particular danger again. And, after everything Harry's been through…"

"I know," Sirius said shortly. "I just can't help but wonder if there's more to it."

"That thought has crossed my mind more than once, too," Remus admitted, squeezing his hand. "Albeit not only about Harry and Eleanor. Voldemort –"

"Voldemort could be anywhere," Sirius bitterly replied. "At least Nymphadora is teaching those kids how to fight. Of all of my relatives, apart from her mother, of course, she is the only one who came out normal not by coincidence. I swear, she, her mother, and I are the only sane members of our family. I suppose that isn't much of a shock, though, considering that Andromeda was the only one of my cousins I ever liked. Narcissa…well, I suppose the best thing I can say about her is that she's not Bellatrix. Not that it's a particularly high bar to clear."

Remus hesitated. "I'm sorry, love."

"I have no need of them," Sirius gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hands back. "I replaced my family just fine."

Remus smiled. "I'm glad I've been that much of a help to you. With my…condition, I often worry I'm an undue burden on you."

Sirius shook his head. "You never have been," He quietly replied. "I promise."

Remus let go of his hands and came around to embrace him, nuzzling his neck.

"We're going to get through this," He whispered. "Voldemort has been defeated before by the Order, and he can be defeated by us again. We just need more time."

"I know," Sirius tightly held him, closing his eyes as he leaned into his embrace. "I just worry we won't get that. Time is fickle enough…and we all are well aware that He is on the move."

"That's –"

A door slammed shut towards the front of the house. Sirius and Remus both suddenly leapt up, only to feel rather embarrassed (and a little annoyed) when they realised it was only Lily. For her part, she took off her shoes before walking into the room, which mitigated any noise her heels would make. Sirius found himself rather irritated with himself the second he recognised that only a few people could get into the house due to the protective enchantments. He only grew more annoyed with himself when it occurred to him there was only one person they knew who ever smelt of expensive rose perfume and a hint of cigarette smoke. Remus merely sat back down the second Lily stepped into the room, as though nothing had happened. Sirius, however, stared between him and her for a moment, only sitting down again with his husband when Lily all but forced him to before joining them herself. For a time, they were all silent, as if unsure of what to say to each other. Sirius tried not to think about the hours he had spent trying to piece together some semblance of understanding for everything that had happened in the past year. It had all been a sign, from the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup to the Tournament, and, somehow, they had all -

"How was work?" Remus cut into the silence. "You don't usually get off before 21:00."

"Well," Lily said irritably. "It certainly helps that Amelia thinks I'm getting too zealous about things and told me I need to 'relax' as if anyone can do that right now."

Sirius grimaced. "What prompted her to say that?"

"I attempted to gain access to some otherwise forbidden information," Lily sighed. "It was a long shot. But, years ago, Albus had said the prophecy that set Voldemort on me, on James, on my family was not lost. I wanted to have a free reign to go through the Department Of Mysteries. But Amelia said no one would ever allow that. Not even the Minister can access that kind of information, something she was all too happy to remind me of. Just about no one can access any of that information."

"At least you tried," Sirius frowned. "Though the only things I know about the Department Of Mysteries is that it's –"

"It's akin to the muggle programmes MI5 and MI6," Lily said, briefly scowling at the thought. "It's probably nothing. She's probably right that it would be a shot in the dark. But I refuse to believe it's not worth it to try."

"Maybe that's what people are worried about," Remus calmly put in. "Not what you're intending, not what you're looking for, but that you're taking things too far and would be willing to try anything, no matter how detrimental to you it possibly could be."

Lily shook a little. "I nearly lost everything," She whispered. "Is it so wrong for me to be willing to do just about anything?"

"No," Remus said, sending Sirius a pointed look. "But getting yourself hurt, overworking yourself, putting yourself in danger won't help. People need you Lily, and I'm not going to act as though you don't know that. I just want you to know that no one wants to see you hurt because of how much everything weighs on you."