James couldn't tell his friends anything of his first day. Or his second day. Or any moment in his first week. Every memory of his training had been erased as soon as each day was done. James made no secret of his frustration. But what he didn't share with his friends is that his memory gaps scared him.

James was relieved that Remus came round for breakfast before work, so that he had someone else to fret with other than Lily. For the past week, Lily had listened to the same sentence over and over again. With a smile. A smile that let James know he was irritating her. He couldn't help it.

"What if they brainwash me again?" asked James. Again.

"They probably will," replied Remus calmly. "The last thing they want in an Auror is someone who can think and act with clarity."

"What if they erase the wrong memory? I might finish up for the day and then not remember where I live."

"James, that won't happen," said Lily firmly as she joined them at the table with a bowl of porridge. "They know what they're doing, they've probably been doing it for centuries!"

"Yeah..." mumbled James, slumping forward on the table. Then he sat up again. "But why did they do it before?"

Remus rolled his eyes and shared an unamused glance with Lily. "Security, probably. Impostors can still get in to the recruitment programme."

James swallowed. "Not very safe, is it.."

"They'll sniff them out eventually," Lily assured him.

Remus stood up. "Can we just get going? You'll have no memories of Auror training at all if they kick you off the programme for being late."

"I haven't finished my coffee yet."

Remus slumped back in his seat again.

As James sipped his coffee, he noticed Lily watching him in disgust. He slowly put down his mug. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"I don't understand how you can drink that crap."

James' eyes narrowed. "What, coffee?"

Lily nodded, then grimaced. "It's foul."

"...Coffee, Lils? You like coffee. You fucking love it. You got me hooked on it, and we've spent the past however many years together getting rat-arsed on the stuff every morning. Coffee is your thing."

"Not anymore, it's the worst thing in the world."

Remus watched as James' expression changed into something truly pathetic, as though Lily had told him she was leaving him.

"You don't like coffee anymore?"

Lily shook her head. "No... eurgh."

"I've lost my coffee buddy?"

Lily swallowed hard, still staring in disgust at his mug of coffee. "Yep."

James had never looked more depressed.

"Ah well..." said Remus. "Off to work! Prongs, let's get going."

James rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I won't enjoy it."

"Doesn't matter. You won't even remember it."

James groaned. "I'll be back whenever, Lily. Dunno when it finishes. They won't let us remember."

"You finish at 5, mate," he said aloud to James. He then leaned towards Lily and murmured, "They didn't erase that, he just forgot."

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Going to the market with Harry was a nightmare. She had to take Tuppy, their chronically traumatised cat, in her basket to prevent him from being eaten by Cadwal, whose interest in the cat had peaked since he'd seemingly devoured all the mice in Devon. But Tuppy was scared of the basket. And the wind. And other people. He trembled so violently in the basket that the muggles were staring at Lily as though she were carrying a bomb. This was exacerbated by Harry frequently pointing at the basket and going "Baby?"

Harry. There was something fascinating in the way that as soon as he was able to walk, all he wanted to do was run away. It was the ultimate flaw in toddler-logic. Clingy to Mummy when Mummy needs rest, miles away when Mummy is nervous. And in his puffy winter coat and red knitted hat and scarf and wellington boots, he looked like every other toddler in the market. Before she'd even reached the village green, where the market took place, she'd twice grabbed the wrong toddler's arm before being shoved back by protective parents. Perhaps the violently-shaking basket made her look unstable.

By the time she eventually found Harry, she was sweating in her coat. Stress in public was a disgusting thing. And because Harry still had zero interest in staying close to her, Lily picked him up and balanced him on her hip: a difficult task with a shaky cat in the other hand and a slight baby bump inches from the toddler's restless foot.

On top of it all was Lily's fear. She'd adopted the habit of casting a spell on her hair whenever she left the house to turn it dark brown. She was, at least, difficult to recognise. Even though she was in a muggle market, she wouldn't take the risk of leaving it ginger. It was clear now, in the press, that Bellatrix was killing everyone she saw. Since Regulus' murder, the bodies had piled up. As quickly as it had vanished, fear had settled back into the wizarding world like a thick fog, and only the brave or the senseless ventured out into it. Lily was relieved that James now spent his days in the most secure place in Britain. Lily had to make do with disguises and a wand in her back pocket. She thought that busy public spaces were safer. Bellatrix's killings seemed to take place on nature walks, or in quiet villages in the middle of the night. Then again, she had murdered someone in the middle of Whitehall...

It did no good to dwell on all the fear. Instead, Lily focused on pretending to be normal. She was at the market with her son. She'd come prepared to spend big money on good food. Despite her limited cooking skills, Lily wanted to cook something special for James tonight. Whether he remembered his training or not, he'd come back frustrated and exhausted, as he'd done all week. She wanted to cook something hearty for him. Filling. Steak, perhaps, or a chicken pie. One of his favourites. Plus, the market was an opportunity to wear Harry out. In between mounting paranoia and keeping Harry out of harm's way, Lily had no energy these days. Harry was easily bored inside the house, but there were very few days in which Lily felt brave enough to venture outside with him. It frustrated them both.

Lily bought a bunch of carrots and potatoes from the root vegetable stall and went red-faced as she had to hold her basket out to the grocer to put the vegetables in, as she couldn't put Harry down. Even more embarrassing was the little squeak she made when the grocer dumped the vegetables into the basket, not knowing that a fragile cat was sitting in there. Lily scurried away quickly to check on Tuppy, who looked downright appalled by the intrusion of carrots in his space.

The shopping trip was becoming a farce. Lily moved quickly on to the butchers' stall, only to find herself assaulted with the sight of the red fleshy glow of fresh beef cuts. Lily swayed on the spot and swallowed hard.

"Excuse me!" called a woman's voice beside Lily.

The butcher, an enormous red-faced man with a blonde curled moustache, waddled over to her. "Yes, love?"

"Could I get- George, stop that- could I get thirty sausages please?"

"Thirty?"

"Yes, thirty. Thank you."

Lily glanced at the woman, whose young red-haired son was pulling on her coat. The woman, too, was ginger.

Lily was astonished that she recognised her. "Mrs Weasley?"

"Yes, dear?" Mrs Weasley looked at her blankly, then politely smiled. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

As if to remind her, the breeze picked up and blew a strand of Lily's dark brown hair across her face. She brushed it away as Mrs Weasley paid for her thirty sausages from the butcher.

"Yes! Mrs Weasley, it's me, it's..." Lily was hesitant to say her name out loud, neither was she particularly willing to mention Voldemort's funeral. "Um, we had Christmas dinner at yours. Me and... Harry, here, and my husband..."

"OH! Goodness me, Lily Potter!"

Lily internally squeaked at the exclamation of her name in public.

"Oh my dear, how wonderful to see you! Oh, I would give you a squeeze but my arms are a bit full. How are you dear? How's that delicious husband of yours? Oh my goodness, Andromeda told me about your little surprise! Congratulations, my darling!"

Lily was too distracted to answer Mrs Weasley's questions. She was staring at everything she had in her arms. In one hand, she held two baskets crammed full of vegetables and sausages. In the crook of her arm was an entire leg of lamb wrapped in newspaper. In her other hand she was somehow carrying a huge milk-churn while simultaneously holding on to her son's hand. Under that arm, she carried several books. Swaddled in a white rag across her chest was a baby. When Mrs Weasley turned to the side to tell her son to stop fidgeting, Lily saw another baby, Ron, strapped to her back.

"How are you doing that?"

"How am I doing what, dear?"

"That. Holding everything. Is there a spell?"

"Yes, dear, it's called having seven children."

"...right."

"Do you want me to carry something? Pregnancy can be ever-so tiring, I can take that basket off you-"

"Oh, no, it's alright, you've already got enough-"

"Darling, look, that basket is so heavy, your arms are shaking!"

"Oh, that's not me, it's the...cat."

Mrs Weasley stared at her.

Beside her, George gasped. "I want to see the cat! I want to see the cat!"

Mrs Weasley looked around at the market. "They sell pets out here now, do they?"

"No... I just... brought the cat along... in case the owl ate it."

Mrs Weasley did not look bewildered by Lily. Instead, she looked sympathetic. She sighed. "Come on, dear. Let's get the rest of your things and then we'll pop back home for some tea. You need it."

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

James was stood with the people he remembered. He and the other applicants stood in a line opposite the recruitment team. Rufus Scrimgeour, Alastor Moody, and the woman. James knew her face. She'd been in the Grettadam Chamber on his first day and scared the living daylight out of them with talks of memory-wiping bugs. She'd been present every day of his training so far, but could not remember ever speaking to her. She was scary-looking. Beautiful, with small sharp features, shiny black hair, blood red lips and icy blue eyes. She was painfully thin, and balanced on pin-thin towering heels. It unnerved him to think that she remembered every conversation he'd had with her, yet he did not. What did she know about him already?

"Welcome back to the Grettadam Chamber. My name is Etta Gamble."

She sounded bored of saying it.

"If you're here today, you managed to pass your first round of tests. Congratulations."

Nobody spoke.

James had made it. He had actually completed the first stage. Why was it, that even though he could not remember a single minute of training, it felt like he'd been waiting years for this news?

"From now on, memory bugs will play no part in your training. Your assessment is over. Your learning begins today."

Somehow, the news of a clear mind did not soothe James as he'd once expected. Instead, he felt heavy with fear.

He was not the only one. Around him, his fellow trainees were wide-eyed and solemn. He studied their faces, their bodies. A woman with a shaven head and combat boots. A tall, pale, chunky ginger man. An Arabian-looking boy scarcely older than James. A dark-skinned boy in a vibrant yellow shirt was the only one who-looked remotely excited. He grinned round at his fellow trainees in glee.

Had he fought any of them? Was he the worst one of the group? Who were his friends?

As James looked at his new comrades, failing to recognise anyone familiar, there was something off about the group. Something was new and raw, like a fresh wound. The bald woman was looking puzzlingly at the group, too. It then occurred to James that during the mysterious first round, their group must have diminished.

"There will be no larking about, no daydreaming, no breaks, no mercy..." Etta Gamble had a walk that reminded James of long, swaying grass. The sort that children played in. The sort that hid lovers and dead bodies.

"... what you learn here, you'll remember for the rest of your life," Etta smiled. "That's the plan, anyway."

A voice like a cello. Melodic. Unnervingly warm and deep.

"While you train, I'll be watching closely for the skills and talent I'll want on my new team in three years time. I only take the best."

Etta Gamble came to a standstill. She searched the faces and postures of the group without shame, as though they were butchered cattle up for sale. She smirked, once again, in a strange way, as though hiding a loud thought. James wasn't sure, because she didn't look the type, but he could almost see her excitement.

From behind her back, she revealed a small, round, gold object.

James' heart leapt.

The golden snitch's wings flicked out from its sides and fluttered in the new air.

"Right then, children..." Etta teased. She threw the snitch over her shoulder and it all but disappeared into the chamber. "...fetch."

Her wand flew out into her hand from up her sleeve. As the auror trainees burst into life and sprinted for the snitch, Etta flicked her wand at the ceiling. The chamber descended into darkness.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Lily's kitchen was full of amazing smells. She stood at the stove, slowly stirring flour into the vegetable mixture as Molly had instructed, while Molly herself sprinkled flour on the counter top for the pastry.

"You can never go wrong with a hearty pie," sighed Molly contently. "If my mother taught me anything, it was that you can make any hovel seem homely when a pie is baking."

Lily looked around at her kitchen.

"Oh, goodness me!" exclaimed Molly then. "I didn't mean- I mean, this house is lovely, dear! No, I just meant-"

"Oh, no, I know, it's fine," Lily smiled. "Don't worry about it."

"Goodness, that was awfully rude of me..."

"Really, I'm not offended..."

"...always talking before I'm thinking, oh, Arthur would laugh..."

"More tea, Mrs Weasley?"

"Molly, dear. And no thank you."

Molly's daughter was asleep in on the kitchen table in Harry's Moses basket. Harry and Molly's baby son were in the living room, babbling to one another, penned in by invisible walls put there by Lily's wand work. The rest of Molly's children (Lily could scarcely keep up with them) were running around outside. It made Lily tense. There were a thousand forces around the house that could stop anyone unpleasant approaching, but they were children. Safety precautions just never seem as safe as a wary adult. Lily did not mention this to Molly, though. Selfishly, she was more delighted to have some new company than anything else. And cooking lessons.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to show you the spoon-stirring charm, dear? Take it from me, it's an absolute life-saver."

"No thanks," replied Lily. "I like just stirring. It's therapeutic."

Molly laughed. "You wait until your next little bundle of joy is born. Not enough hands, that's I always say. Mothers never have enough hands. Thank Merlin for magic."

"Indeed..." said Lily absently, glancing out the window at the boys playing outside. "It's freezing outside. Aren't they cold?"

"If they get a cold, they've only got themselves to blame. And it's either keep them out there or have them in here with us."

Lily almost laughed. How absurd it was that Molly knew exactly who Lily was, knew exactly the implications of being with her, yet was so jovial and carefree. It's almost as if she'd forgotten the war entirely.

"You should put your feet up, dear," said Molly. "I imagine you get very little rest these days."

"I'm fine."

"Sure?"

Lily shrugged. "I like having something to do. It gives me an excuse to be tired. I'm so tired these days but I don't seem to be doing much. There's nothing much I can do with a maniac coming after me. I'm bored. It's weird."

Molly picked up her rolled-out pastry and approached the bubbling pot. "You've got two people in that body of yours dear." She lay the pastry down over the pot and smoothed down the sides. "You and the one you're growing all by yourself. Keeping two human hearts beating is exhausting business."

"I suppose so," Lily smiled, and jumped up onto the counter, letting her legs swing feely. True enough, she felt herself exhale in relief. Her feet were a little sore.

"Better?" Molly enquired.

"I don't get it. When I was pregnant with Harry I was running around fighting evil and blowing stuff up. Now, I go on a ten-minute walk and I'm half-dead when I get home."

Molly chuckled. "That child's going to be a handful. I can tell."

"Ugh, don't say that..."

"Oh, don't grumble. You're young and sprightly. You can handle it. If not, there's no shame in asking someone for help. Merlin knows when the twins were born, I was hurling them at my mother every other hour."

Lily gave a slight smile. "There aren't that many people I'd be comfortable to ask, I'm afraid."

"What about your mother? Doesn't she ever take Harry off your hands?"

"No... she died."

Molly looked up at her with devastation in her eyes. Something else, too, Lily felt. She seemed to glaze over a little. It took her a while to react. "Oh you poor dear... oh, I am sorry!" When did- if you don't mind me asking- did she-?"

"About a year and a half ago."

Molly glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of the living room. Harry and Ron were still chatting nonsense to each other.

"How terribly sad..."

"Mmm... yeah. Dad's not around either, he died years ago."

"What about James' parents? Surely-"

"Oh, they were both dead before we finished school."

Molly was stood completely still, her eyes glistening as she stared at Lily's apologetic face.

"My friends used to look after Harry when James and I ever needed them to. Marlene and Alice. They were great, they loved him. But, um..." Lily trailed off. She didn't want to remind Molly Weasley of the fatalities in the war. And by the look on her face, she didn't need reminding at all.

"How old are you, Lily?"

It seemed an odd question. "Twenty two..?"

Molly's eyes became watery. She looked older when she cried. "My God, you're just a child..."

The statement divided Lily. Externally, yes, she could admit that she looked about sixteen years old. Sitting on the counter top, red plaited hair becoming messy and wispy around her face, which had become rounder recently... still wearing her red wellies and blue duffle coat from the outing earlier... asking a wizened woman to teach her how to cook... she did, indeed, seem very very young. But Molly's diagnosis came from Lily's reeled-off list of the dead. Grief ages people, doesn't it? So does parenthood. All things considered, Lily should have looked at least fifty by now. But she didn't. She was small and fragile in Molly's eyes- a woman who'd had two children at Lily's age.

"Well," Molly resumed, quickly wiping her eyes on the end of her apron. "You must never hesitate to ask me for help. I'll always be glad to. Always lend a hand, why ever not?"

She grabbed a fork from the utensil pot and began marking the pastry. "We're formidable creatures, we are. Women. We keep people alive, we keep people together... we often forget that it's perfectly fine to need a teeny weeny bit of help."

So that's what it was. Help. Lily had none. The formative figures in her life were gone, and had been gone for some time. Mother, father... all of her family... they'd never been there to bring Harry presents, to invite them round for Sunday lunch, to soothe Lily's tears as she panicked over how on earth she was meant to keep a child alive. The traditional reserve team, close friends, were taken too soon. Frank Longbottom used to be able to get Harry to sleep when no-one else could. Alice was besotted with him. As for Marlene, she was the funniest thing on earth to Harry.

There were just gaps around them now. The Potter family were no longer insulated by an igloo of beaming faces and protective arms like they used to be. There were very large, very scary gaps. Other could invade. Lily would not let them.

You never feel younger than when you are faced with a problem. Because at the back of your mind, you are always crying out for your mother.

"The Death Eaters stole from us both," said Lily to Molly, who stared at her. "And I don't know about you, but that makes me feel very, very old."

Molly hesitated. "I... yes, I... suppose it does."

"And when I feel old, I feel wise. Like I've seen the world and I'm the only one alive who knows what life is all about."

Molly looked less puzzled now.

"Feeling old... it gives me a sense of... invincibility. Like... like nothing can go over my head. I can defend my home and my family because I've done it all before. And I have learned from mistakes in the past and... I know things now."

Molly nodded slowly, sadly.

"But that's not very often. I am young, you're right. And I do need help sometimes. But it's not as though I don't have any. James helps and the friends I've got left help and... I can help myself, sometimes. I'm young but I'm not naive."

"My dear, I never said you were-"

"I know. You're being kind. I'm just saying... this is my life now. As bleak as it looks from the outside, it isn't always like that and it won't always look like that either."

Lily turned away. From the living room, she heard Harry's giggles turn into whimpers.

"I can help myself," she said aloud. "I'm a big girl, I can do it by myself.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

A/N: Woops... sorry for the delay.

Thanks for sticking with this. Hopefully the next update won't take a fucking decade.

Please review, favourite, follow etc,

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