"You give me midnight apples in a car with the windows down.
You give me the flashbulbs of an electrical storm.
You give me thunder and the suddenly green underbellies of clouds."

- catalogue of ephemera, rebecca lindenberg

"So, German?" Teddy asks, as soon as she is near the café he'd said he was waiting by.

She huffs out a laugh, and stops. "At least let me catch my breath," she says, pausing to do just that.

"Trying to get food before I get answers, I see." He shakes his head with cheerful chagrin. "You really are Albus' sister, aren't you?"

Lily laughs again. "James makes up for the both of us; he's still picky," she says with the loving disdain of a younger sibling.

Teddy shakes his head again, holding back a smile, and turns towards their table. "It's not expensive," he warns her.

Lily shrugs, "I've been traveling on a reporter's savings; I'm hardly expecting it."

"Ah, yes, traveling for fun. I remember those days," he says wistfully.

She raises her eyebrows. "Are they working you that hard?"

His smile dims a little, and he shrugs noncommittally. "Maybe I am getting old." He says at last.

She makes a face and pretends to shoo him away. "Eugh, no! Don't get your old-ness on me. I'm going to stay young forever."

This brings the smile back full force, so Lily subsides.

-x-

She likes how Teddy listens to her; all his attention narrowly focused even though she's only describing the bookstore to him, its charm and eccentricity.

"It would be easier if I could show you, really," Lily finishes, taking another bite of her dinner, and Teddy answers, "Sure. I'll be free again tomorrow, and you can never really have enough books."

Lily finishes chewing and asks, "I've been wondering about that, honestly – what kinds of things do you like to read?"

Teddy raises an eyebrow at her. "Guess," he says, a mischievous dimple surfacing.

Lily narrows her eyes and takes a bite out of her sandwich, thinking. "Thrillers," she ventures at last. "Like… detective mysteries."

The other eyebrow rises.

Lily wrinkles her nose. "No?"

"You didn't go for travel," Teddy says, "I was surprised."

There a silence for a moment, before Lily says, "Well?"

"Well?" Teddy says.

"Was I right?"

He laughs, looks away. "Close. I do like mysteries, but most of the time I'm more likely to pick up – well, biographies. Artists. You know."

Lily leans forward, disbelieving. "Really," she says.

Teddy snickers. "I don't have the face of a biography lover?"

"You have green hair, Teddy!" Lily exclaims, "Who would guess that?"

He takes a moment to look very superior. "Not you, clearly."

She sticks her tongue out at him.

"Oh, there's my Lily-Billy," he says, toasting her with a laugh.

-x-

They circle by the bookstore on their way home, peering through the storefront into the dimmed interiors.

"There's where I found the German book," Lily murmurs, pointing through the fog of her breath on the window to one of the shelves.

Teddy's beside her, and he sidles closer, following her finger. "I see it," he says, quietly, "What about the other ones?"

"Mm, there and there," she says, and he nods.

"Why are we whispering?" he asks, after a second, and they're grinning again.

When they make it back to Lily's hotel, she dithers outside the door for a second running a hand over her bag's strap.

"Do you want to come in? I've got something to show you," she says. Teddy is worrying at the corner of his jacket, and he meets her eyes with surprise.

"Yeah, all right," he says after a moment, dropping the cloth.

Lily doesn't have a true Pensieve with her, but she wants – sharing Maastricht has been a pleasure, a – a revelation. She wants to know what Teddy will make of her other cities, the memories she's collected and curated, her own beautiful souvenirs.

He follows her towards the staircase, careful with the front door and the door to her room.

"I like what you've done with the place," he says, when they're inside, "It's much nicer than my room."

Lily shoots him a quelling look, reaching up for the lacquered box on her shelf. There are a few moments when she's sure it's just been pushed to the back, before she realizes it isn't there.

She freezes, and then launches herself onto her toes, scouring the shelf before she realizes what's happened. She spins around, noting at last the opened lock on her suitcase, the disorder near the wardrobe – the missing things.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Teddy's leaning over her, looking worried.

Lily all but collapses onto the bed, thoughts swirling into a crescendo that thumps to the unsteady beat of All of them? All of them. All of them.

"It's – someone's been in here. Someone took –" Lily feels like the air is gone from the room, she's breathing harshly amidst the sudden rustle of Teddy turning and taking in the room again. "It's – all right, most of it's all right, but – they took all of the places I went, I was – I had them here. All of them. For – I was going to show you what I had seen," she continues vaguely, seeing the confusion still etched on his face, "I was going to… when I got home I was going to have all of the places where I'd gone and…" She'd been so proud of the idea, she was going to carry it all that way, there was almost no valuable thing she hadn't stored in the case –

"Memories." Teddy says, interrupting her thoughts with a look of comprehension, "You – oh. They took – ah. Okay, okay – I understand."

There's an almost unnoticeable pause before he says "Lily," again, "Lily. It's all right, it's not -" and there's a little, breathy hitch to his voice – he's… laughing? "-It's not the end of the world, silly billy."

It's the singsong nickname that does it – Lily's head whips up, and she glares at him, and even as she notices his face, the way it's filled up with nothing but shining concern, she's already yelling,

"It's not funny – how can you – it's not funny, Teddy – this was – this was all I have, all I had to keep with me. This was important – it wasn't – it's not – "

But Teddy's staring at her like she's slapped him across the face, and she's cut short by the sheer, stunned astonishment on his face – the absolute, entire lack of laughter.

"You think I was –" There is a crackle of sound in his throat, a scoff almost. It's the bitterest noise she's ever heard from him. His voice is still gentle. "Lily, my mum and dad died before I was a year old. All I have of them are old pictures and – and stories somebody else has told me – you think I'm going to laugh at you?" He's staring at her like he's only just seeing her, like she's crawled out of the ocean, something ugly.

"That's not – that's not why –" she chokes out. "I need to have something, I need to take something home." And she's horribly, angrily aware of the quaver in her voice, how close it is to cracking open on the word home.

Teddy's frowning down at her, an unhappy wrinkle poised between his eyes.

He doesn't say it will be fine, or that she shouldn't worry, or that they will find all of them and fix this. He should, some part of her thinks, he should say it anyway. He stares a minute longer at her before he slides his hand under her arm and tugs. "Get up," he says briskly, "Come on."

Lily slaps his arm away. "Just go away," she says, still working away tears.

"Lily," he says firmly, leaning down to her level, like she is young, like she is a child, "Come outside."

"Don't –" The scolding is automatic, "I'm not– I'm just –" she starts again, and then, remembers that she isn't.

She offers him her hand like something conciliatory, and Teddy's eyes flick from her palm to her face for a second before he pulls her out of the door.

"I'll help if I can. I promise," he whispers over his shoulder, and Lily manages a smile, just for him.