It had been surprisingly easy to disappear. There was a man in a room at the Ministry who was paid to hide people. James had told him the country, the man had guided him to a safe house, and then erased his own memories once they were gone. The man was as mad as a box of frogs but he was another blockade between danger and the Potters.
Their cabin was the only house in a small green-grey meadow in a clearing in the middle of the woods. It was old and creaking and had an obsessively well-kept tool shed round the back. James had made several jokes about murderers in the first few days. But the tranquility of nature and safety of solitude made it very difficult to complain. The cabin may have been old, creaky and small, but it was clean. It was pleasant. It was one less thing to worry about.
They hadn't waited for Remus. They just left, and James visited him every day until he was better. Slowly, the exposed fur and teeth and jaws of his lycanthropy shrank back behind his human self. He had looked ghastly; far more disturbing as a half-werewolf-half-human creature than as a proper werewolf. But as far as reactions to curses went, his had been the more forgiving. Certainly, news would spread of his condition. But his mind was still clear. He was still Remus.
Remus arrived in Sweden two weeks after the Potters, and saw very little of his friends. He'd thrown himself into his work. To Lily and James' relief, northern Sweden was a prime location for werewolves. There were plenty here. Light and people and were both scarce, and there were enough woodlands and howling winds in winter to hide Remus' furry-little-problem. Hiding was one less thing to think about.
Two months after their arrival, their routine was set. Their friends were made. Life was shunting forward.
On one particularly cold and drizzly morning, Remus arrived at the Potters' door with an umbrella and a devious smile. When Lily opened the door, he waved a soggy envelope in front of her.
"Did yours arrive?" he asked her.
Lily pulled her cardigan further around herself as the rain spat into her kitchen. "My what?"
"Oh good, I can spoil it for you." Lily stepped aside and let Remus in. "It's Sirius' wedding invitation."
Remus shed his raincoat onto the back of a chair. On the kitchen table, a cauldron and flame was set up, surrounded by tiny brown glass bottles and bunches of herbs.
"Brewing?"
"Just some Dreamless Sleep," replied Lily, shutting the door. "...Want some?"
Remus ignored her. "I'm going to spoil it for you again." He sat down at the table. "The wedding is next month."
Lily's eyes widened. "Next month? Bloody hell, that's a bit..."
"Suspicious?"
"I was going to say 'hasty'... but yes, I guess people will talk..."
Remus shrugged. "Let them. It won't bother him what people say." He looked around the kitchen. "All alone?"
"Harry's sleeping, James is training." She joined him at the table. "I'm not used to seeing you here, Moony. Not that it isn't lovely to see you, but shouldn't you be at work?"
"I have an extremely rare day off," Remus explained. "And I remembered that you look like you've swallowed a quaffle these days, so I thought I'd drop by and help you with Swedish life."
Lily looked down at her tummy with a frown. "Ten quaffles, more like... and not a single sign of arrival. Looks like I'll be wearing a bed sheet to the wedding."
There was a tapping sound at the window. The sound was accepted in the wizarding world to signify the arrival of post, so Lily thought nothing of taking her wand from the table and waving it absentmindedly at the window for it to open. But it was not an owl who flew into the kitchen.
A significantly smaller, more dainty breed swooped in and perched on the edge of the cauldron.
"That's a dove," Lily said.
"It is," replied Remus, unsurprised. "I got one too."
Lily looked up at him. "This is my invite?"
Remus nodded.
The dove held an envelope precariously in its beak. Lily removed it and opened it up.
There was no letter inside. Instead, the envelope dissolved into pink smoke in Lily's hands. The smoke expanded and drifted upwards, slowly forming a fuchsia-coloured cloud in the middle of the kitchen. They watched as a figure started to appear atop the cloud. A swirling, sloping figure which materialised into a man and woman. It was Sirius and Isabelle, dressed in matching purple robes and dress, waltzing.
Lily stared, entranced. "Wow..." she whispered. "I want to throw up."
"Keep watching," Remus told her. "It gets better."
Lily focused on the dancing couple for over a minute, waiting for something to happen.
Then the dove exploded in front of her, spraying the room with rainbow confetti.
"JESUS!" she shouted as confetti twinkled and fell around her. "What is wrong with him?!"
"Confetti bombs..." Remus laughed. "Gambol and Japes sell them. They transfigure them into whatever you like."
"Into living creatures?!"
"They're not real doves," he assured her. "But look..."
He nodded in the direction of the pink cloud, which was slowly disintegrating... and pouring onto the kitchen floor in the form of pink dust.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Thanks Sirius, you complete pillock."
"No, look at it..." said Remus. "It's floo powder."
He was right. The speck were too large to be ordinary powder. They were tiny pellets, exactly matching floo powder had they not been bright pink.
"What do I want pink floo powder for?"
"My guess is it's to get to the wedding."
Lily scooped up some of the powder that had fallen onto the table and examined it in her hand. "That's... rather clever. Albeit messy, sick and utterly inconvenient. I'll be sweeping this up for days."
Remus shrugged. "You didn't have any plans for today, did you?"
"Actually, yes," she replied. "I need to pick some lavender. You can help me. We also need to go to the village for Heli."
Heli Norberg was the Potter's elderly neighbour. Every day, Lily walked with Harry through the forest. They followed the river, along the same path every day until they could hear the twinkly wind chimes of Heli Norberg's cabin. Heli Norberg was a tiny, partially-blind fragile toothless woman of ninety one years, and had lived in her cabin in the woods since her birth.
Heli was a witch who spoke little English, but had somehow deduced that her newest neighbours were hiding from something, and so always lent Lily her enormous pet Doberman, Vesuvius, to protect her in the woods and on her errands. She lent her the dog under the pretense that she was too old to walk the beast now. But she and Lily had a silent understanding.
So, Lily walked through the forest with Harry and Vesuvius every day, twice a day, and went grocery shopping for Heli in thanks for her protection. On weekends, James came too. It was easier when he came. Walking through thicker foliage, keeping up with Harry and dragging the Doberman away from fox holes by his lead were all things that were becoming almost impossible now that Lily's baby was almost on its way.
They followed the river down to the lake. The lake was such a welcomed sight by Lily. For one, it meant that the nearest village was not far. But it also gave her an opportunity to stop, let her son and the dog play along the thin stretch of grey pebbles that made up a beach, and reach into her floppy brown rucksack for her notebook, quill and ink.
The first time she came to the lake, she'd written down some observations about the lake, and about her new anxieties about living so far away. Now, two months later, she had the beginnings of a story.
It was a thriller, of sorts. About a wizard who'd escaped Azkaban and was now out for revenge and redemption. She had grown weary of writing about herself. It was depressing. Writing about someone else, someone in her head, whose story was unknown and exciting, was infinitely more enjoyable.
It was a secret, her story. Only James knew that she was writing it. She desperately wanted to tell Remus about it after finding his own poetry. But she didn't want expectations. It took the fun out of writing and made it a new anxiety that she didn't need. Sitting on a fallen tree trunk by the lake, with her son and her neighbour's dog playing with driftwood and pebbles, writing in a little muggle notebook, was all the therapy she desired.
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Lily's boots were filled with water by the time she'd reached Heli's cabin at the end of the day. The rain had worsened when they reached the village, and Lily now carried a basket of sodden lavender plants that she doubted would be any use. She feared for her notebook which was at the bottom of her very damp rucksack. Even Harry, who usually loved the rain, was pouting as he trudged down the muddy path.
Heli opened the door in her usual pink dressing gown and bottle-end reading glasses. When she saw Lily, Remus and Harry drenched and miserable, she exclaimed something in Swedish and gestured for them to enter her cabin.
Heli's cabin was thatched and half-sunk into the ground. On the outside, it looked like a damp dirty ruin. But inside, she had a fire burning and soup bubbling in a copper pot. Her cabin was cosy and warm, almost cramped with all of them inside. A fat white cat kept leaping up onto Heli's shoulders, and Lily flinched every time. This animal was Heli's beloved Zeena, whose size and overly-affectionate nature did not suit Heli's fragile, four-foot bony frame. Lily had to remind herself that Heli owned Vesuvius, who could crush Heli to death with significantly more ease than Zeena the fat cat.
Heli moved painfully slowly and shakingly. She gestured to the chairs around her dining table and spoke in Swedish, gesturing for them to sit. Lily sat with Harry on her lap. When Heli took out a stodgy-looking brown cake, Lily's stomach growled. Heli picked up a huge carving knife and approached the cake with a trembling hand. Remus leapt up and took over her task.
"Ah, mitt barn, mitt barn..." Heli peeled the cat from her shoulders and placed her on the table in front of Harry. "Spelar med Harry, mitt vacker... med Harry..." she stroked the cat, and gave a toothless smile when Harry began to pet the cat himself.
Lily smiled. "Thankyou."
Heli nodded back, understanding the word. Then she remembered something. "Ah! Mitt barn, mitt barn, jag har en tidning... ah, ah!" she shuffled out of the room, continuing to mumble in Swedish. She came back a minute later holding a newspaper.
Heli pointed at Lily. "du commer... ah... you come to Sweden... because..."
Remus could already see the front cover of the newspaper, and looked morose. Heli put it on the table for Lily to see.
A weight plummeted in Lily's stomach when she saw Bellatrix Lestrange's face underneath the Swedish headline.
'Mardröm i Storbritannien'
Lily looked up at Heli. "What does it mean?"
Heli pointed a bony finger at Bellatrix's image; the same image that accompanied every report on her.
"Mardröm... 'Nightmare'..."
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When James came home that night, he had to keep the real peacock-feather quill he'd bought for Lily in his pocket until Remus had gone. Both he and Lily were so quiet when James returned that it shocked him. Things had been peaceful in Sweden, but not silent.
They were reluctant to tell James about Heli's newspaper, about the article on Britain's incompetent aurors. James already knew the stories. He'd heard them talked about at the training programme. Etta Gamble had addressed them directly. "Let them laugh at us," she had told the lecture hall. "It doesn't make a jot of different to our job. We are aurors. If you cannot handle name-calling, you might as well leave now."
James had taken it to heart, and decided to agree with her. If other countries thought that British aurors were useless, they would have to prove them wrong.
Besides, no dark witch nor jeering newspaper could dampen James' current spirits. These days, he came home to a happy wife. A wife who was writing, exploring, experimenting. Lily was in her element when deep in thought, using her hands to create something new. The sight of her, blustering around the cottage pink-faced and bright-eyed reminded James of his favourite word: Bold. She was bold. It was the primary reason that he loved her. Of course she was pretty. Pretty is good. And she is kind, which is fantastic. She was obviously clever, which excited him. But when she was bold, nothing on Earth was more glorious than her.
And he had forgotten that this was Lily's natural state. She was not one to sunbathe, or relax in a hammock or even sleep in on weekends. He saw now that perhaps her boldness had been exhausted. Not by the war itself, but by the repercussions of it. James could see now that loss and uncertainty had not entirely extinguished her fire. It was a fire that needed stoking, as everyone's did.
Today was an exception. The newspaper article had upset her. But after dinner, when Remus had gone home, he presented her with the new quill and her face lit up again.
He'd buy her inks next. Then sunflowers. He knew Sirius' wedding venue to be in France, in Isabelle's home country, which gave James plenty of opportunities for little gestures. Their child would be born soon, and afterwards he would present his wife with her favourite cherry wine.
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A/N: I love writing this story. It's a lovely hobby and I love hearing from people who like it. But please, please stop sending me abusive PMs. I can't take it anymore. There is one person in particular who I have reported, but there are several people sending me private messages calling me a stupid bitch, fake fan, shit, talentless, silly little girl and moron. I even have someone proposing that they write the story for me and I upload it, because my story is "embarrassing to read" Yes, I stray from canon. This is an AU. It happens. No, I cannot just re-write stuff I've already uploaded. Unfortnuately, I am not a professional writer. I don't have a team of editors or a writing degree. I just write for fun, but these messages are taking all the fun out of it. If the story is as bad as you say it is, and all I get for uploading it is abuse, I'll just stop publishing it. I'll write it for myself. But I don't want to do that because some people seem to like reading it. Please, please, please stop sending the mean stuff. I can't take it anymore.