Hopelessly Addicted by ChristyCorr

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 5
Published: 07/09/2006
Last Updated: 03/06/2007
Status: In Progress

Six years after the break-up, the new, improved, and Potter-charm-proof Lily Evans is ready to
take the British Ministry by storm. Naturally, it all goes downhill from there. (Rewritten
version.)




1. Mad World
------------

**A/N** I've been posting this rewritten version on ff.net and unknowableroom.org for a
while, and suddenly remembered this old PK account. I'm sorry to all of you who are waiting for
the last chapter—it won't come! I'll finish this version instead, which I hope you'll
enjoy.

. . .

**Hopelessly Addicted**

Chapter 1

**"Mad World"**

. . .

. .

.

*All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces*

*Bright and early for their daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere*

*Their tears are filling up their glasses—no expression, no expression*

*Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow—no tomorrow, no tomorrow…*

**Gary Jules**, "Mad World"

. . .

. .

.

Five fifty-nine.

Five fifty-nine and fifteen seconds.

Five fifty-nine and thirty seconds.

Five fifty-nine and forty-five seconds.

Six o'clock.

The alarm clock started ringing loudly.

Lily's arm instantly went up to turn off the annoying chime. She'd been expecting it, of
course; six years of waking up early every morning had trained her subconscious well. She had
already been half-awake, in a dreamlike state of sorts, when the clock had struck 6 AM.

In one fluid motion, she got up and reached for her clothes. They were neatly folded on the
armchair: there was never any rush to go to bed when she slept over at her boyfriend Alain's
apartment. Naturally, it went without saying that she hardly ever left behind personal objects.
Valerie often joked that Lily was planning to disappear from his life one day, and would leave no
traces of her existence.

It wasn't that; or rather, it wasn’t only that. Alain had never given her reason to believe
that he could one day forget her. Could he? The answer was obvious to her, as shocking as that
thought was. It didn't seem likely that the man could leave her, but she knew well enough to
expect such possibilities.

"Get up," she croaked, not looking at Alain, but knowing better than to assume he
would hear. Lily's voice was the only part of her—other than the cranky, slow eyes—that gave
away that she was not, in fact, a morning person. To be honest, she had always abhorred waking up
early. That was probably why she'd chosen a profession that demanded so much self-discipline:
she loved pushing her own limits.

Such habits were inevitable once one attained a position of certain responsibility. *Chief
Evans this, Chief* *Evans that*—*did you notice she came in ten minutes later
today?*

Oh, she loathed those sickening sycophants at times! They flattered her ego whenever they could,
and criticised her the moment her perfect façade slipped. Lily didn't mind it that much
anymore. Maintaining a strict appearance was a skill she had honed over the years.

In the end, there was nothing truly remarkable about her. Some genius, perhaps, mostly related
to strategy, her specialty, but, even then, her reasoning often proved to be flawed. Fortunately,
she usually caught big mistakes in time. Still, Lily was far too impulsive, exceedingly unworthy of
everyone's admiration. She was aware of it, and she alone. Pretending was probably her greatest
quality.

"Get up!" Lily tried again, a little louder this time. A fleeting jealousy
contaminated her typically blank, somewhat aloof glare. Alain always slept in; everyone forgave
*his* tardiness.

Lily hated this city—its endless little streets and decrepit buildings, its maddening stench,
its old air, history, obsession, its November, its cafés, smoke, music, and generally its life.
Everything was divided, manichaeist, right or wrong, futuristic or archaic. One was loved, and,
suddenly, a walking faux pas. Polite replies became glacial—welcoming benevolence took on distant
arrogance.

Lily was generalising, and she knew it. It didn't matter; she did that a lot, perhaps a bit
too often. In some level, she had always strived to feel distant from everyone, and, as such, she
was very much capable of judging them.

She cast one last look around the room, out of sheer habit. Alain’s apartment was nice, but a
bit too artsy for her liking. It was too posh, perhaps, and it gave away its owner's richness
far too much. Yes, that was it: the lamp near his bed—Merlin, that *lamp*!—displayed its price
tag far too aggressively. But maybe, just maybe, Lily was far too picky. Perhaps Alain was as
perfect as everyone thought him to be, as his ancestry was, as his elegant apartment was—as perfect
as Lily herself was imperfect.

Suddenly, Lily had had enough, and Apparated home. The familiar pastel tones made her smile. An
occasional colourful detail (orange, red, even green) offered helpful insights regarding her
personality (except for the green, the damned, heinous vase Julia had given her). This décor
certainly pleased her, she thought with a smile. But then again, it was her place. Why couldn't
Alain understand that she'd never give up this freedom to be with him? She didn't want a
monotonous life.

And yet that was precisely where her current actions would lead. Lily could imagine herself
fluttering around at social events, becoming the respectable Mme Delacour—cherished, envied,
admired, and miserable. The thought was less than impressive, and nowhere in the vicinity of
comforting, but it seemed inevitable anyway.

Well, she had a lot of work to do before going to the office; as usual, the week already seemed
far too short for all she had to do. It was Monday, and Lily loved Mondays for all their potential
and dreaded significance. She hurried to her office and grabbed some scenarios. There was no way
she could finish them all in time, but she would have to try.

Lily undressed, and turned on the shower. Soap, shampoo—that terribly sweet, sickening smell of
honey reminded her of something—what? Bubbles were forming, pearly beige against her white,
freckled skin. The sponge was harsh, and it made her skin red and raw. As usual, she paid no
attention to it because she was far too busy planning this new day.

. . .

. .

.

*The glove compartment isn't accurately named, and everybody knows it*

*So I'm proposing a swift, orderly change*

*'Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm*

*And all I find are souvenirs from better times…*

**Death Cab for Cutie**, "Title and Registration"

. . .

. .

.

Who needed towels? They were a waste of space and a waste of time. Lily dried herself with a
spell and arranged her hair with another one. It was then time for shoes and clothes—dressing
always took some time. Perhaps a talking closet would be of use, she mused, browsing through her
black pants section.

Her mind unexpectedly jerked back to her Hogwarts room. She'd hated that stupid mirror of
hers, with its annoying perceptiveness and absurd logic. In fact, she disliked talking magical
objects in general. They could never be trusted. Lily glanced at her ordinary mirror: would those
black shoes look strange with a long skirt?

Hogwarts... Lily shook her head. She never wanted to see the castle again. It would bring back
awful memories, precisely those running through her brain right now.

*James Potter*—all her traumas were connected to that one name. Hmm, maybe she could wear
the blue twin set. How could someone destroy a person's life so effectively? He had; even now,
remembering his betrayal, she still felt a surge of sadness. The painful misery had faded years
ago, but she would never forget it.

How could she? He had, after all, been the one reason for her departure from Britain. She would
never work in London, not when he would be less then ten miles away. That's why she had started
Healer training right after Hogwarts, delaying her career as an Auror. There hadn't been the
slightest doubt in Lily's mind: she never wanted to see him again.

Lily was ready. It was six-forty: she would get started on work, run out for a cup of coffee—of
course it was impossible to get proper tea in Paris; she'd given up months ago—but… Oh, no, she
was going to London today! She'd nearly forgotten. Well, her workday would be immensely
shorter! *Damn it*.

Why were they calling her anyway? She would get a job offer, in all likelihood. Would they
simply order her home (she was "borrowed" by the French Ministry, after all) and place
her on some bad team? Lily smiled, absent-mindedly examining a mission scenario. If their
reputation was anything to go by, there were no such things as ''bad British Aurors."
They were less intuitive than the French, but more than Americans—the best in the world.

Did Lily belong there, with them? Technically, her current position—Head of Strategy—had been
approved by London. She was their employee and, should she ever return home, that would be her
post. Would she be worthy of it among *them*?

Lily pushed that thought away while the scenario before her revealed itself in its entirety. It
was her favourite part of the job: her brain worked automatically as she weighted possibilities,
examined courses of action and foresaw reactions. The circumstances were all there, just waiting to
be orchestrated. She knew the answer to this, exactly what to do.

Suddenly, Lily realised that she was late. After throwing everything inside her purse in a hurry
(most things seldom found their way out), she left the house.

. . .

. .

.

*It's a bittersweet symphony, this life*

*Trying to make ends meet, you're a slave to the money, then you die*

*I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down*

*You know, the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet…*

**The Verve**, "Bittersweet Symphony"

. . .

. .

.

The weather was as dull as Lily had expected, with a chilling breeze to boot. She often
preferred extreme climatic expressions: thunderstorms, heat waves, or heavy snow. Methodical as she
was, Lily thrived on unpredictability.

Would it be good to go back to England, despite everything? Lily remembered well how difficult
it had been to fit in at the French Ministry at first. In time, she'd found her niche. After
two years, she pondered detachedly, it was only natural that London had decided to call her back
home. That certainly didn't mean she liked the idea of leaving yet another life behind.

She bought a sandwich from a nearby corner shop and hurried to work, still thinking about
London, its terrible climate, and its infuriating people… she missed them! How would it feel to see
her friends again? Julia had come to Paris not too long ago, but they hadn't kept in touch.
Leylann, too, had disappeared—she was presumably still working at St. Mungo's. Nothing had
changed, perhaps, or everyone could be completely different.

"Is it today?"

She turned to look at Valerie, who had sped up to walk beside Lily. Her current closest friend
was also an Auror, and also walked to work every morning. In fact, that strange habit was one of
the few things the two women had in common.

"Yeah. Someone's coming over to pick me up soon."

"What, don't you remember where the London Ministry is?"

Lily smiled. "I have a bad memory at times, Valerie, but I'm not *that*
terrible."

"Ah. All right. That's good."

Valerie seemed troubled, Lily realised after glancing at her face. The girl was not hard to
read—which was, of course, a definite disadvantage when one worked in the deception and secrecy
business. That was probably one of the reasons that she'd never achieved an important
promotion.

"What's wrong?"

She frowned. "I broke up with Charles last night—for real. It's definite now."

Lily raised a sceptic eyebrow. "You said that last time, too."

"It's not that I don't love him—"

"I know. But you need to make a choice, Valerie, and stand by it. If the fact that he
doesn't want a serious commitment bothers you as much as you say it does, then stop going back
to him every time he beckons you!"

"You say that every time," Valerie complained, clearly in a terrible mood.
"Can't you understand that it's *hard*? He's a great guy!"

"I can, of course. Have you forgotten that whole business with Benjamin Fenwick?"

"That was different."

Lily shrugged. "I have nothing against Charles, and you know that. I just hate to see you
going through break-ups with him all the time."

"I annoy you, don't I?" Valerie asked, looking away. "You think I'm too
immature to handle this."

"No! No, Val, come on—you know that's not true."

Lily could feel the stubbornness taking a hold of her friend: Valerie would not change her point
of view any time soon. It was useless to pursue the point any further. A change of subject was
necessary; they would have other opportunities to discuss the situation.

"So… Do you think Caroline's really pregnant?"

"Who knows?" Valerie snapped.

Lily sighed—it was better to back off now. They walked the short distance to the Ministry of
Magic in silence. One more time, Lily thought about just how little she'd miss her Parisian
life if she moved to London. It seemed strange, almost cruel, but not to anyone who knew her.

The truth of the matter was that Lily was bored. The feeling was dangerous: she had become
restless, inventive, and impulsive. Several people—especially James Potter himself—could testify as
to just how perilous that state of mind was.

. . .

. .

.

*You're on the road, but you've got no destination*

*You're in the mud, in the maze of her imagination*

*You love this town, even if that doesn't ring true*

*You've been all over, and it's been all over you*

*It's a beautiful day; don't let it get away…*

**U2**, "Beautiful Day"

. . .

. .

.

The old building that hosted the French Ministry was a stereotypical haunted house. Its very
structure was obviously unstable. All doors creaked ominously, and the sun always found a way to
hide when one approached the entrance. The few wooden steps leading up to it had been about to
disintegrate for the last five decades. Lopsided signs indicated the dangers of entering the place,
which of course meant that rogue children and teenagers, routinely visited.

No one knew for sure why the city government hadn't bothered to demolish the house, but some
highly placed wizard was presumably in charge of keeping Muggles in the dark. Everyone was a little
paranoid about anti-Muggle security in Paris. The wizarding community there had a long and
unpleasant history of small incidents related to local alternative cuisine and the subway network,
dutifully forgotten by everyone involved.

After the apparent miracle of reaching the doorway without incident, the two Aurors entered. The
squeaking noises they made were softer than usual, and Lily made a mental note to warn someone
about it. Out of mere habit, they examined the room with disinterest. There were some broken pieces
of furniture lying around, and obvious signs of many struggles. Rags of what had once been plush
wine-coloured curtains surrounded the upper side of two window frames. Trash had been dumped
somewhere, and an almost unbearable stench filled the air. No one could possibly live here. This
was, of course, the best workplace for which a wizard could hope.

Valerie placed the tip of her wand on the doorknob behind them and waited for clearance. All of
a sudden, the room changed. The two Aurors were now facing the two witches who directed all
visitors to the department they were searching. Naturally, there wasn't much going on this
early in the morning, and one of them was chatting with the Aurors on guard duty.

"I'll see you later," Valerie said briskly, striding towards the elevator. Lily
stayed behind, having spotted a few of her teammates in the entrance hall.

Guard duty was a boring task that all Aurors dreaded. Their main function was simply to stare
down at all newcomers with remarkably nasty glares. Lily didn't know most of them very well,
but that mattered little. Their demeanour became superficially friendlier—but without a doubt more
alert—when the Chief Auror approached the group.

"Good morning," she greeted politely. "Who's in charge today?"

William, one of hers, raised his hand.

Lily frowned. "I need to talk to you, and everyone else on my team. I'm leaving
soon."

"I'll have someone replace us for a few minutes; it won't be a problem. By the way,
the London man's already arrived."

She checked her watch. "There's time. Gather everyone in your office, will you? I have
to hand in some papers before leaving, too."

He nodded, and walked a few steps closer to the Chief Auror. "Er, Lily," William
switched to English—he, too, was British—in a low tone, "I would advise against leaving him
alone in your office for much longer. The guy's all right and very likeable, but he seems to be
the kind who enjoys a practical joke far too much for his own good."

Lily grinned. "What's he done so far?"

"He pretended to be a Muggle, who had entered here by mistake," William sighed.
"That gave us all a bit of a fright, as you can imagine."

"I see. Did he happen to mention his name?"

"Yeah. Black, I believe. Sirius Black."

She smirked. "Naturally."

. . .

. .

.

*Many times I've been alone; many times I've cried*

*Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried*

*But still they lead me back to the long, winding road*

*You left me standing here a long, long time ago…*

**The Beatles**, "The Long and Winding Road"

. . .

. .

.

Lily took a deep breath before entering her office. Everything was arranged: she was ready to
leave. Suddenly, the idea of meeting her old friend seemed frightening, as if the very sight of
Sirius Black would be enough to bring all her past troubles back into her life.

*No*, she scolded herself firmly. Those people had known a different Lily—she had grown
since then. Nothing extraordinary would happen.

She opened the door, and had a few seconds to examine Sirius' profile before he turned to
look at her. Some things never changed: he was still impossibly handsome. Lily had never given the
subject due consideration—she had been his best friend's girlfriend, after all—, but now it hit
her with full force.

Sirius had the sort of roguish, untamed charm that Remus and James, good-looking as they both
were, could only achieve with the use of a Polyjuice Potion. He provoked a tickling, pleasant
yearning that no woman could resist. She vaguely wondered if they all felt reticent and silly
around him, and if they couldn't help but grin when he granted them his undivided attention for
a fleeting moment.

He turned to greet her, and Lily snapped out of the weird trance. She reminded herself that this
was Sirius—arrogant, irresponsible Sirius, who could be utterly obnoxious at times… He was Sirius
Black, *James Potter*'s best friend. She liked him despite everything, simply because it
was difficult not to, but it wasn't hard to recall his many flaws.

"Nice office," he remarked casually, ignoring the many years that had passed since
they'd last spoken.

"Thank you." She walked to her desk and sat down, not quite knowing what to say. They
weren't late yet, and some mandatory catching-up obviously had to happen at some point, but
there wasn't much about her current life she was anxious to share with him. "How's
everything?" she asked, rather lamely. It seemed like a good idea to keep *him*
talking.

"Everything's brilliant! Prongs thinks he's just grabbed enough evidence to frame
Lucius Malfoy, so everyone's excited about that." Sirius suddenly remembered who he was
talking to—well, maybe he'd mentioned James intentionally—, and observed her reaction. There
was none; he continued, "Work's been… Well, Voldemort's still around, obviously, so
we're not all that efficient."

Lily was surprised. Working had never been first among Sirius' priorities, as far as she
knew. Back at Hogwarts, he wouldn't have dreamt of mentioning schoolwork when asked about his
life: he, too, had changed.

"Any girlfriends?"

He smiled with boyish smugness, and, for a moment, became that same old Marauder she'd known
so well. "Well, there's always a girl here and there, but… Actually, I'm sort of
seeing Leylann again—who was, by the way, thrilled to hear that I was meeting you today."

Lily nodded. That didn't surprise her. Sirius and Leylann had been 'sort of' seeing
each other for many years now.

"How are the others?"

"Remus is great. Well, not all that great, considering tomorrow's the full moon, but
yeah. Peter's also fine. Dumbledore got him a position at the Ministry's Magical
Maintenance office, but he hasn't quite gotten the hang of weather spells yet."

"I see." Lily knew Sirius was expecting her to ask about the fourth Marauder. She was
certain that her reaction would define his opinion of who she had become over the last couple of
years. "What about James?" she asked with what she hoped would be perceived as distant
politeness.

"He's pretty well, too—oh, and working more than all of us put together. He got
promoted, you know," Sirius said, grinning. "James is a Chief Auror, just like you, with
his own team and everything."

She smiled thinly. "How insane do they have to be to give *him* a team?"

Sirius shook his head. "You know how he can be when he’s devoted to something. It's
like… he’s found a cause. It’s almost scary—he hardly ever enjoys an off-duty moment
nowadays."

"That doesn’t sound like him."

"I know! But really, you won’t recognise him."

"I seriously doubt that," she rolled her eyes. "But it’s true, you know. At the
end of the day, this isn’t a mere job."

"So you lot keep telling me. Whatever, it’s useless to worry so much about things you
obviously can’t change. Relaxing is important sometimes, you know. And, let me tell you, I'm
the last guy you'd call sensible, but even *I* sleep a few hours every night."

She shrugged. Sirius seemed to have forgotten that he was not, in fact, talking to James. Lily
did get enough sleep, of course; she just happened to need less of it than most people.

"Anyway—"

"We should get going," she checked her watch. "We’re late."

Sirius gave her a look. "What, you’re actually punctual now? My, my." He laughed.
"Things *have* changed."

. . .

. .

.

*Consider this the hint of the century*

*Consider this the slip that brought me to my knees, failed*

*What if all these fantasies come flailing around? Now I’ve said too much…*

*I thought that I heard you laughing; I thought that I heard you sing*

*I think I thought I saw you try…*

**R.E.M.**, "Losing My Religion"

. . .

. .

.

Lily's calculating eyes didn't betray the attention with which she observed the
elevator. Busy executives, mindless of everyone carrying out the same routine, left when the chime
announced each floor. She observed the others, awed at how clever it was to install an Auror
outpost in a place like this.

The practical aspects seemed challenging, if not foolhardy. How ridiculously difficult had it
been to teach all the wizards and witches to behave, on a daily basis, in a way Muggles would deem
”normal?” Naturally, they could easily Apparate to work, but, in that case, it would be hard to
keep any pretence of normality regarding the occupied floor.

Twentieth floor, twenty-first—a couple left, and there was only one other woman in the elevator.
She looked vaguely familiar; they glanced at each other, and their gazes locked. Yes, Lily
concluded at once, this girl was definitely a witch. It was impossible to explain why she knew it.
It was a feeling, a strange familiarity, as if their magical powers acknowledged one another. They
were tensely silent, wondering whether the other was friendly or not.

Lily pondered her options. Little detection spells were useless against dark wizards of some
power, of course. Suspicion was an instinct as involuntary as breathing once one had been an Auror
for some time.

The two witches were silent for several seconds. No one had pressed the button for the
twenty-second flood, Lily knew, but the doors slid open anyway, giving her one last chance to
leave. She braced herself for the hostile reaction that was bound to follow. It was likely that
they were both Aurors, but neither wanted to get caught off guard.

A soft chime merrily announced that they had finally arrived at the twenty-third floor. Lily
confidently strode to the office door, and stopped abruptly, feeling the cold rush of a pointed
wand behind her neck. Taking a deep breath, she turned.

"Who are you?"

Until now, Lily had merely observed the girl's demeanour. Now, she examined her appearance:
black hair, small brown eyes, fair skin, and sharp, classical taste… Yes, she seemed familiar, but
no precise identity came to mind.

"Lily Evans," she replied, slowly raising her left hand as a sign of good faith—the
other one was still in her pocket, clutching her wand out of more than sheer habit.

The woman seemed sceptical. "Lily Evans? That crazy strategist who quit the Ministry a few
years ago?"

Lily smiled wryly. "It's good to know I'm remembered so fondly."

"There aren't that many Aurors," the girl shrugged. "We've all heard of
one another, at some point, but not many people know you personally, I believe. All we have is that
strategy collection of yours. It's quite good."

"Thank you."

"I'm Amelia Bones," she continued, holding out her hand, which Lily shook. Neither
had let go of their wands, preferring to be overly prudent than to take risks. "We met at
Hogwarts, and briefly, afterwards."

Amelia had a firm handshake: Lily's gut feeling indicated trustworthiness. Flashes of a
scrawny, often enamoured teenager flooded Lily's mind at once—yes, they had met back at
school.

"I remember… You were a few years older than me, I believe, and dated one of the
Prewetts."

"Yes. I did." She didn't seem surprised. No reaction, friendly or otherwise, was
apparent in her hard facial expression.

"Well, I'm here—the Minister believes I should work with this team, and I wanted to
take a look around the office, meet everyone, and so on."

Amelia nodded. "We were expecting someone, but I received no names."

"Er, I wasn't told how to enter."

"Few people have access to that valuable piece of information. Wait a second."

She walked to a painting, and touched it lightly, tickling what looked like an orange. Another
doorway revealed itself right beside the regular one.

"Each of us gets a key," Amelia explained, and smiled for the first time. "You
seem like you won't have problems blending in with Muggles—that's good. The previous girl
refused to go out in public without her hat, Marlene just prefers to Apparate… and, of course, we
have Dorcas."

Lily raised an eyebrow. The uncommon name rang a distant bell, too. Her thoughts wandered to
Hogwarts again, and she idly wondered how many wizards had sided with Albus Dumbledore in the past
couple of years. Lily herself still corresponded with the aged Headmaster, and was informally a
member of that Order of his. It was likely that he would ask her to take on active assignments, now
that she lived in Britain again.

Amelia opened the door, and gestured for Lily to enter. It took the newcomer about two seconds
to understand that strange comment about Dorcas. Her stunned gaze had no time to take in the
office's almost metallic whiteness, frequently marred by soft lights and unsystematic contrasts
(it would take some getting used to) before it rested on the bizarre figure standing there.

"Hello," the woman said brightly.

Every colour clashed: her red hair had touches of phoney pink colouring, and her clothes were a
strange cross between Muggle-hippie-wannabe and shabby witch style. The ensemble wasn't
altogether unpleasant to the open-minded eye—but, Merlin, the girl had *very* peculiar
taste.

Dorcas smiled at once in a welcoming and friendly way. "You're the new girl, yeah? Nice
to meet you. I'm Dorcas Meadowes."

Lily grinned. It struck her as odd that Dorcas was immediately willing to accept the new
colleague. Well, there was an odd duck or two on every team, and this one certainly corresponded to
the stereotype.

"I'm Lily Evans."

Dorcas nodded. "I know. An owl's just arrived, with your picture and everything. Come
on, let me show you around." She turned to Amelia. "He wants to see you upstairs as soon
as Fudge leaves."

Amelia frowned. The presence of the Junior Head of Magical Catastrophes could hardly be good
news. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to her first." She gestured towards Lily.
"I'll be in my office."

Dorcas was busy conjuring tea, and didn't indicate having heard. Amelia walked away
nevertheless, casting a worried look in the direction of the staircase.

"This office is quite nice," Lily commented appreciatively, after realising that the
apparently random splashes of paint and decorative items were, in fact, quite harmonic.

"I helped decorate it… as if you couldn’t tell." Dorcas laughed, offering Lily a
steaming mug. "I'm a bit of a do-it-all around here—not as highly specialised as the
others, you see. We do mostly research and strategy, but I'm sure you already know
that."

"Yeah, I –"

*"Bloody hell*!" a cry suddenly rang out in the quiet office. Alarmed, Dorcas
quickly covered the short distance between the entrance and the larger contiguous room. There were
several doors there, a short hallway and the staircase.

Dorcas' loose sandals clickety-clacked, and echoed; her short steps stopped in front of a
closed door. Lily arrived in time to hear her knock.

"Wait!" hollered a voice from the other side. A strangled explosion followed shortly
thereafter, and the door opened. A young woman sloppily dressed in wizard robes left, and glanced
at Lily with interest, which turned into delight. "*You're* the one who's joining
us?"

It took Lily only a moment to identify that grinning face. "Marlene… McKinnon!" she
greeted, thankful that her brain had quickly learned to access her rusty Hogwarts acquaintances
list.

"You gave me a detention," Marlene stated, with the standard pridecharacterising
memorable immature feats, "for sending Severus Snape to the hospital wing for two
weeks."

Lily laughed. "Itching Potion, wasn't it?"

Marlene nodded happily. "So! We are to be joined by Lily Evans, *the* Lily Evans, who
had some promise, but preferred exile in the land of smelly cheese!"

"Hey, I did some serious work there—"

"Of course you did," Marlene conceded, "but you'll probably be more useful
here, once you get back on track."

"So I've heard."

"Thank you again, Mr. Fudge," called out a familiar voice behind them. Lily would have
recognised it in a split second, anywhere, any time. "I promise I'll have him get rid of
the motorbike."

The Auror in command of the team casually strode down the stairs, and opened the door for
Cornelius Fudge, who walked out and Disapparated. He then turned to face his team; despite many
years' training, his gaze betrayed his shock when he saw his ex-girlfriend there.

"*You*?"

. . .

. .

.

*Were you born to resist or be abused? Is someone getting the best of you?*

*Are you gone and on to someone new?*

*I needed somewhere to hang my head without your noose*

*You gave me something that I didn't have, but had no use*

*I was too weak to give in, too strong to lose…*

**Foo Fighters**, "Best of You"

. . .

. .

.

Lily didn't quite know what to say. An annoyingly unanticipated mess of feelings swirled
beneath her initial surprise. They couldn't expect her to work with *James Potter*, could
they? Not with the one man who had been the reason for her departure in first place…

The truth was evident. Now that she paid attention to it, James' signature was all over the
office, regardless of Dorcas' bizarre adjustments: the painting at the entrance, the delight of
fooling hundreds of people every day by using magic right under their noses, and even the girls
he'd picked for his team were exactly his type. It went without saying that he would never be
involved with any of them, but there was no harm in flirting.

"You're the one they called to work with me…" James mused, apparently at a loss
for words. He had always detested being caught unawares in serious, public situations.

"You didn't know, then," she deadpanned. "I suppose I can always undo this.
I'll go to the Minister and—"

"Why?" he interrupted, probably in order to buy himself some time, trying to catch up
with his own reasoning. She could almost *see* his brain working, measuring risks and choosing
between different approaches: James, too, was a strategist.

Lily didn't know the answer to his question—or at least none that wouldn’t be puerile. He
was perfectly aware of that. "It would be strange," she attempted lamely.

She tried to imagine what was going on in his mind. Did he think he could *handle* her?
Would he try to convince her? Granted, working here would be an interesting opportunity, but it
wasn't worth the hassle of being around him all day.

"It would," he agreed slowly. "But you were sent here, and maybe—"

"—we should put our personal differences aside and work together?" Lily rolled her
eyes. "You know as well as we do that interpersonal equilibrium in the teams is highly
recommended."

"Yes, Lily, we've *never* worked well despite arguments and the like. Of
*course* you're right," James sighed wearily. "Listen, I haven't given the
matter a great deal of thought, but Dumbledore was the one who sent you here, wasn’t he? I'd
asked him to see if there was someone we could call."

She frowned. Well, the Minister of Magic had called her back, but the Hogwarts Headmaster's
involvement was likely. She remembered his repeated requests well enough; in Dumbledore's
opinion, Lily's skills were of more use in England, where Voldemort always struck the
hardest.

Noticing that she had accepted the idea, James went on, "So, maybe—and this is just off the
top of my head—you're actually *supposed* to be here. Maybe Dumbledore thinks—"

"If he wanted me to respect and follow his wishes, I would expect him to come and talk to
me personally."

"Point taken."

Lily shifted her weight uneasily, anxious to leave. She was beginning to doubt her resolute and
impulsive refusal; he seemed so unperturbed! Perhaps he honestly didn't care either way, and
only had his team's best interests at heart. It seemed odd to Lily, who had known the teenage
James Potter very well.

"We should give it a try. I need a strategist, and you are—"

She waved dismissively, foreseeing the flattery. "Spare me."

"There are no other teams—"

"I know!" Lily seemed impatient. It had been six years, she thought with some
annoyance, but James was as predictable as ever. She was predisposed to argue and disagree with
him, of course, but he didn't have to make a special effort just to exasperate her!

Why he wanted her as part of the team, she didn't know. Had James matured enough for her to
consider working here? It didn't seem likely, and she wasn't willing to risk it.

"You need to return to England," he tried, more firmly. "I need a team member.
Don't be silly."

Her nostrils flared: wrong approach. James was trying to patronise her—the *nerve* of the
man! He had had no contact with her since leaving Hogwarts other than an unanswered curt,
work-related note of Lily's many years ago.

"I don't *need* to return, James. I was *invited*—"

"Well, there you go."

"And I choose *not* to accept! Frankly, how could the two of us work together in
peace?"

Looking around, Lily realised that the others were wondering the exact same thing. Marlene and
Dorcas were watching them with bewildered interest. Amelia had left her office, too, and observed
the scene from afar. What did they think was happening? Lily and James' relationship, back in
the day, had been a fairly public one, but none of the girls had been a friend of theirs back
then.

He shrugged. "One would *hope* that we've grown up since Hogwarts. We won't
argue all the time like back then."

There was a slight pause, in which she wondered how probable *that* was. Lily considered
herself mature, but certainly wasn't acting like it. There was something about the situation,
about James, that brought out the childish brat in her. The impulse to stalk off in a huff was
almost irresistible.

"I fear inefficiency as much as you do, Lily, but I think it would be worth it. For
goodness' sake, I'm Head of Strategy—we'll *have* to work together at some
point!"

She raised an eyebrow, and blinked a few times, absorbing this new piece of information.
"I'm the French Head of Strategy, and, theoretically, that would be my post here,
too." After a slight hesitation, she realised dismally, "They do expect us to work
together, don't they."

It wasn't a question, and it indicated that Lily's usually fast and highly logical brain
was at last being put to work. She felt cornered. If the situation had concerned anyone but James
Potter, she would've decided a long time ago. But this was real, not some strange, somewhat
nostalgic and frightening nightmare—now what?

"We'll have to—?" James began incredulously. He clearly hadn't considered the
possibility of sharing command with anyone, least of all Lily.

"You know," Dorcas intervened, "the Minister wrote a personal recommendation on
Lily's file, saying you two should publish your strategies together."

Lily snorted. "Mine are worthless. I would have to go over all that rubbish, and redo
everything from scratch."

"Mine need serious reviewing as well, but it can be done."

For the first time, Lily seriously considered the possibility of staying, and almost slapped
herself for it. She did want to come back to London; to be perfectly honest, the thought of working
on this team tickled her pride. It was a challenge: they were *good*, all of them. James would
be a problem—she had no doubt about it—, but he was also the British Head of Strategy, which
wasn't an easy position to achieve.

"What harm can it do?" James asked, correctly guessing what she was thinking.
"What would *that* have to do with anything? Have you never worked with an ex
before?"

Strangely enough, Lily had never considered James Potter a mere ex-boyfriend. He was more: some
kind of symbol, yes—definitely her first and worst heartbreak, and even a life-changing event of
sorts. In the end, however, theirs was a fairly simple story: she'd loved him, and he'd
cheated on her.

"It's different," she said nervously, feeling her resolve quickly fading.
"It's *you*."

"I'm not saying it'll work. To be honest, I have no idea of what will happen, but
I've had a hard time finding people with whom I work well, and…" James shook his head.
"You're complicated, but at least I know I can deal with you."

She didn't bother telling him she felt the same. If she was to work in London, she reasoned,
it was probably better to do so with someone whom she already knew well. "What about
Sirius?"

His only response was a nonchalant shrug, which could indicate either that Padfoot was not
available, or that an impulsive troublemaker was not James' idea of a desirable colleague. Lily
understood that. She further presumed that few Aurors were willing to work away from the
disorganised, friendly Ministry headquarters, and even fewer had enough qualifications to be
helpful in this team, whose function was to provide material and intelligence for all the
others.

Lily frowned, fearing what she was about to do. He'd convinced her, of course, but she still
believed that regret would inevitably follow her decision. Part of her—the workaholic woman who
commanded most of her decisions—could see only advantages to working here: personality
compatibilities were bound to be either irrelevant or productive, despite everything.

She paid little attention to the incessant nagging of her emotional side, which remembered James
all too well, both the dreamy relationship and the subsequent heartbreak. Lily was confident that
no romantic relationship could blossom out of this new, politely angry interaction.

"I don't *like* you," she spat all of a sudden, and James beamed. He'd
succeeded.

Lily sighed. This was it: beyond any doubt, a moment she was bound to curse for months to
come.

"Will anyone else start working here?"

"There is a need, of course, but it's hard to find suitable candidates." The
corners of his lips twitched. "We can always call Kate Malshirn, if you want—she's a
constant applicant."

She stared at him. Malshirn was the girl with whom James had cheated on Lily. The name alone
made her grimace. "I hope you're joking," she replied icily.

"Of course. She and I don't get along at all."

"Is she still annoying?"

"Oh, yes—you'll hate her."

"Excellent. It's a good thing that I won't work in the Ministry, I guess."

"Do you want to start today? I'm sure we can—"

She shook her head. "I have to go back home and tie up some loose ends."

"All right. You should go see Dumbledore," he gave her a meaningful look. "And I
should probably wait for you before rearranging the office, yes?"

Lily smiled all of a sudden, and cast a long glance at her new teammates. The three women still
seemed to be in varying stages of bewilderment, but James' facial expression betrayed nothing
but some superficial self-satisfaction. "This should be interesting."

"It's bound to be very interesting," he laughed. "That's good. I've
been bored."

The statement startled Lily, but, on second thought, maybe it was to be expected. Like any other
occupation, an Auror's life, however marvellous and adventurous it might seem to an onlooker,
became routine after a while. The worst of it was that when risking one's life became somewhat
dull, there was little that could shake things up.

Now, James had happened to Lily. He really was a force of nature that could easily turn
Lily's life inside out in no time. For a moment, she allowed herself to be pleased, and happy
with her choice. Working in London would be downright thrilling.

"Have a good day," she said to Amelia, Dorcas and Marlene. She turned to James.
"I'll see you tomorrow."



2. Square One
-------------

**A/N** I accidentally posted the un-beta-ed version of the first chapter! Sorry about that.
Everything's right now.

. . .

**Hopelessly Addicted**

Chapter 2

**"Square One"**

. . .

. .

.

*All night long, I dream of the day*

*When it comes around, and it's taken away*

*Leaves me with the feeling that I fear the most*

*Feel it come to life when I see your ghost…*

**Foo Fighters**, "All My Life"

. . .

. .

.

Remus was cooking dinner tonight. It wasn't hard to guess: the distinctly cheesey smell
invaded one's nostrils once inside the apartment. Whenever the kitchen of the flat James and
Sirius shared was being used for something other than chaotic storage for old pizza boxes, it was
safe to assume that their good friend Moony was staying over.

A Marauders get-together happened once a week, with predictable scheduling irregularities, and
it usually involved face-stuffing and liberal amounts of alcohol. They talked about pretty much
everything of little importance in life, and, when in an exceptionally worried or bad mood,
discussed work. The atmosphere of complete companionship allowed them to reveal some details of
their jobs, even though Sirius and James had sworn not to disclose certain pieces of information.
The four Marauders were true friends. No Ministry security paranoia would stop them from sharing
each other's burdens from time to time.

When James strode in the room, his face betraying a strange blend of thoughtfulness and
annoyance, Peter immediately tried to make him talk. It was useless, of course; they all knew that
Prongs habitually let his feelings accumulate up to a point where he lost all control of their
consequences. It could be enervating, but, after thirteen years, everyone was more than used to
that behaviour.

He plopped on the couch, and summoned a beer from the kitchen table. Sirius and Peter glanced at
each other, wondering who would give it another try. It seemed serious: James was dutifully focused
on his beverage, and hadn't even bothered to say hello to anyone present.

A loud clatter and Remus' complaints broke the silence. Peter immediately jumped up to help,
more than eager to leave the tense living room.

Sirius didn't bother turning to face James. Instead, he popped open a can of beer and
positioned himself more comfortably on the sofa. He drank quietly for a minute or two, and said,
"I'm bored and I'm curious. Spit it out."

James shrugged; he would have to say it sooner or later. "Lily's working with me
now." It seemed strangely real to say it. He hadn't given the matter a great deal of
thought all day, dutifully ignoring her unexpected return to his life.

"Ah."

"She irritates me, Padfoot."

"Now, why doesn't that shock me?"

"She's changed."

"It's been six bloody years, Prongs."

"Still. She used to be—"

"Perfect?" Sirius' hoarse laugh made James glance at him with open exasperation.
"The love of your life? Your soul mate? You were in love with her back then. Of course you see
her differently nowadays."

"She's a strategist, too."

"I remember," Sirius nodded, and sniffed the air with a pensive expression. "Oh,
dinner's ready."

"You don't seem surprised."

"Well, they asked me to pick her up in Paris this morning."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why on earth would you be interested in that particular piece of information?"

"I just… would. I don't know."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Don't flirt with her."

James didn't flinch. "I don't intend to. I've been there, Padfoot."

"You know perfectly well that your knowing better won't stop you."

"I have a girlfriend."

Sirius threw him a look, and James grinned.

"All right. I mean it—don't worry. I won't."

. . .

. .

.

*Let a woman in your life, and your serenity is through*

*She'll redecorate your home, from the cellar to the dome (…)*

*Let a woman in your life, and you're up against a wall*

*Make a plan, and you will find she has something else in mind*

*And so rather than do either, you'll do something else that neither likes at all…*

**Rex Harrison (My Fair Lady Soundtrack)**, "I'm an Ordinary Man"

. . .

. .

.

"*Priori Incantatem*," Lily muttered, returning her appearance to normal. The
effects of her duel with James were still glaringly visible all around the office: there were no
chairs, most of the walls were stained, scorched or damaged to some level, and her desk had yet to
be reminded that its natural state was not that of a prancing deer.

She had felt childish and even vaguely nostalgic when using some of these silly spells, but both
Aurors knew that their physical integrity could not be risked in a meaningless office feud.
Nevertheless, this was the second time in less than a week that their built-up frustration had
gotten the best of them, and each had made an effort to remember effective school-time hexes in
order to attack the other. It went without saying that James had a decisive advantage—he had
actually *used* these jinxes at Hogwarts—, but Lily wasn't too far behind.

The results of this fact were palpable. At the moment, James was hovering like a helium balloon
a little above Lily, which meant that his head bumped against the ceiling every time he wasn't
careful enough to prevent it.

"Bring me down," he said, dodging the lamp. "My wand fell."

She arched an eyebrow, smirking.

James rolled his eyes. "*Please*."

Waving her wand, Lily smiled; her partner fell with a heavy thud, and groaned.

Why couldn't they just get along? She could hardly imagine it, but it was bound to be
possible somehow. It was useless to remind herself of self-control, willpower, professionalism and
all those interesting concepts that theoretically oriented an Auror's career and daily
behaviour. Lily had never had problems with appearing detached before. What was it about *him*
that made her snap? She had no idea, and that exasperated her.

"We should stop, you know," James said, rubbing his forehead with a pained expression.
"This is just plain useless."

"It's not like we fight because we want to," she replied, shaking her head.
"We've always been hopeless at working together. I don't know why we even considered
that it would work out this time."

"That's not true. We were great as Head Students, remember?"

"Well, yes. We were dating back then. We were still quite inefficient," the corners of
her lips curled up in a sly smile, "but for different reasons." He grinned, and was about
to make a devious remark when she continued briskly, "Anyway, that won't help our current
predicament. Look, James, I think we should try a new approach to the situation."

He transfigured the remains of two broken vases into a chair and sat, facing her with attention.
"Go on."

"We obviously can't work in the same office." Lily gestured vaguely towards the
destroyed walls, the non-existent furniture, and their own unkempt appearances.
"It's—"

"But we have to," James intervened. "It's part of the job description,
remember?"

Lily let out an irritated sigh, remembering that talk all too well. Both the Minister of Magic
and Albus Dumbledore had been excited by the possibility of the two Aurors working together. The
Hogwarts Headmaster, specifically, had stressed the importance of their unreserved cooperation for
the cause.

Oh, he could have paired them with any other Order members, but no—he'd decided that forcing
Lily and James to learn to coexist would be better. She often wondered how someone that brilliant
could make such absurd assumptions.

Lily was silent for a few minutes, focusing instead on cleaning up the place a little. The
floorboards were restored with a spell or two, and so were the windows. She decided to change the
colour palette of the furnishings a bit; it took her a while to choose everything. "You
know," she spoke up at last, "I'm sure that time will help work things out. Let's
just be patient."

James hadn't expected such a conformed reaction. He nodded, wondering how long the present
détente would last. Lily had been so high strung since she'd started working in London that it
had been impossible not to clash with her every few minutes. It was strenuous, and it forced their
already fragile interaction to explode into a full-fledged argument several times a day.

James had believed that it would be possible to work with her, but his mindset had changed about
four hours into her first day at the job. Why couldn't they avoid irritating each other at
every possible opportunity? It was immature and inefficient—two characteristics that James had
prided himself in not possessing for years now.

But, all things considered, Lily was right. Time would tell if they'd manage to work their
way around their incompatibility. Nevertheless, at the moment, it seemed wholly improbable that
their communication would ever become the brilliant and smooth exchange of ideas that everyone
seemed to expect.

. . .

. .

.

*How long can a girl be shackled to you?*

*How long before my dignity is reclaimed?*

*How long can a girl stay haunted by you?*

*Soon I'll grow up, and I won't even flinch at your name…*

**Alanis Morissette**, "Flinch"

. . .

. .

.

"Heavens, you haven't changed a thing."

Leylann laughed. "Flattering though that may be, we both know it's not true."

"Well," Lily corrected herself, "your *appearance* hasn't changed. But
you seem a bit more serious, I think."

"I was never one for fairy tales and naïveté," Leylann shrugged. "I'm just
different, I suppose, and maybe a tad more down-to-earth. Two years is a long time."

"It is." Lily looked away, and sighed. Why hadn't she kept in touch with Leylann?
They had always been close. This friendship had been one of the hardest things she'd forced
herself to leave behind. Despite knowing that, she said, "You never wrote."

"Neither did you. Well, no worries: I get it, really. I was surprised that you actually
made that initial effort to keep in touch, to be honest."

"What? I—"

"Oh, no!" Leylann grinned, waving her head. "I don't mean it like that. But
we both know that you wanted to start anew, build a whole life from scratch. That included cutting
ties with your old friends, and… it wasn't unexpected."

Lily smiled fondly. She had missed Leylann's nearly unconditional understanding. It made up
for many of the girl's flaws—like the mood swings, those occasional tantrums, and her awful
stubbornness. Lily had long since learned how to deal with those; they were hardly a problem
anymore.

"And now you're back," Leylann continued, looking at her with open curiosity.
"Would you mind telling me what on *earth* you think you're doing? Don't you
remember that James was the reason that you left London in first place?"

Lily sighed. "It's not like that. I've grown now—I've matured. James and I can
work together like professional adults. We're both very good at what we do, so the
Ministry's decided to pair us up and see what happens. It's a priceless opportunity, to be
honest. I gladly took it."

There was a pregnant pause, and then—

"You two are arguing a lot, aren't you," Leylann stated with a smile.

"I can't stand it anymore!" Lily exclaimed, throwing her arms up in despair.
"We argue over the silliest things, and we spend two hours discussing the tiniest details of
every bloody mission!"

"Your strategies together are probably watertight, then."

"I should hope so, at the very least. Oh, Leylann, I honestly don't know what else to
do. The man is unbearable!"

Leylann nodded in the noncommittal way common to all nurses and doctors who were used to
listening to rambling patients. It indicated that the healthcare agent was listening but politely
ignoring all that was being said.

"This should be fun," she said, and smiled affectionately at her friend. "I'm
glad you're back."

"So am I, really, but," Lily made an unintelligible guttural sound, "I really do
feel like choking him to death sometimes. Can you believe he had the gall to use a Jelly-legs curse
on me? A *Jelly-legs* curse, Leylann, and we're both twenty-four bloody years
old!"

"Well, how did you react to that?"

She grinned. "With a Leg-lock, of course."

Leylann shook her head, chuckling. "Oh, do stop complaining. You're as bad as he
is!"

"He always starts it," Lily claimed at once. After a slight hesitation, she admitted,
"Okay, so do I, sometimes. It's just inevitable."

"Do you *always* argue?"

"Yeah."

"Every time you meet, I mean?"

Lily stared. "Pretty much, yes."

"So meeting him outside the office is entirely out of question?"

"What? Why would I meet him?"

"The boys want to see you, see. They asked you to come by next Saturday, and they'll
all be here."

"You'll be home?"

Leylann nodded. "Don't worry." She smirked. "I wouldn't dream of leaving
the two of you alone."

Lily rolled her eyes. The lunatic was clearly making no reference to their current enmity, but
to the old days of lovey-dovey nymphomania.

"Aw, you know I had to say it."

. . .

. .

.

*Hey, you're too true to be good, and I'm too bad to pretend*

*Transparent and transfixed, I'm uncool*

*Heartbeat, you're looking at me*

*Must stop, I'm letting you see this isn't how I want it to be…*

**The Corrs**, "Humdrum"

. . .

. .

.

It had been a hard day at work, more so than usual. As a rule, James' team did mostly
technical work, and hardly ever went to the field; today had been an exception. A three-Auror team
had infiltrated a Death Eater camp under his leadership, and they'd managed, against all odds,
to rescue an important Muggle politician held captive there.

It had been an impossible mission, sent to their office precisely due to its many complications.
Ordinarily, the Ministry wouldn't even bother trying to send a mission in cases like this: they
wrote an apologetic letter with condolences, and avoided losing several wizards in a foolhardy
enterprise. This time, however, the Prime Minister of England himself had interceded for the man.
The Minister of Magic couldn't say no to a man who had helped him cover up dozens of
catastrophes in the past few months.

After over two hours of meticulous, painstaking advance and avoiding countless obstacles, both
physical and magical, the team had entered the facility. The way out had been significantly easier:
they had flown out amazingly unscathed. Despite being chased by the guards for a long time, every
Auror had made it back safely.

Lily had survived. Opening the door to her apartment, she tried to remind herself that that was
a good thing, regardless of every bone in her body feeling like it was about to disintegrate. She
could hardly persuade her limbs to move.

"Lily!" The vision of Alain standing there in a tux filled her with inexplicable
dread. No, no, *no*. She was in no state of mind to talk to her boyfriend now. It was
difficult enough to keep herself conscious, and her eyes open! She mumbled something he didn't
understand, and continued walking to her bedroom.

Suddenly, the burning-cold beam of an awakening spell of some sort hit her square on the back.
Lily jolted awake, feeling the pain much more vividly now, and turned to glare at Alain.

"What *happened* to you?" he asked, frowning. Something murderous in her eyes
indicated, beyond any doubt, that she was in no mood to chat.

Mustering all her self-control, Lily managed to say levelly, "I've had a very tiring
day. Alain, please, I need to rest."

"But we have that dinner at my mother's today—have you forgotten?"

She groaned. "I can't go."

"She'll kill me, Lily," he protested. "You promised. Come on."

"It will take an insane amount of magic to get me to stay awake all night! Plus, it's
not like I'll have a good time—I never do. I'm not going. Just… make up some
excuse."

"You've never complained about those before."

"Well, I am now. *Look at me*. I'm in no state to go!"

"You're a witch!"

Lily shook her head despondently and went to her room. She threw herself on the bed, moaning at
the indescribable feeling of resting her nearly broken back on the soft mattress. Unfortunately,
the charm that Alain had cast on her had the effect of litres of raw caffeine having been pumped
directly on her blood system: she could barely close her eyes. Her bodily energy clashed with the
intense fatigue of her every muscle and nerve.

He entered the room before she could persuade herself to get up to go yell at him.
"Lily," Alain said, "you have to go."

She felt anger rising in her, the kind of sleepy anger that had no real reason and started out
of nowhere but felt overwhelming and entirely righteous. "I don't know where you get this
strange idea that I'm supposed to be the perfect French wife. I'm not perfect, and I would
*hate* to be perfect! And we're not even married! And you don't even want us to get
married too badly because she hates me. Hey, that's all right—I'm not too fond of her
either. Oh, and guess what? I don't even *like* sugar cubes. So you can go there and say
right to her face that, that… oh, my head hurts," she groaned. "Bye, Alain."

Alain stood next to the bed, absolutely perplexed. Without a word, he cast a sleeping spell on
his girlfriend and left. This outburst could be a mere insane construction of her tired mind, but
perhaps it was a symptom of a deeper problem. How could he know for sure?

He and Lily had never liked discussing their relationship. For the most part, they simply tried
not to step on each other's toes while going about their daily routines. It was more
complicated to do that nowadays, with Lily staying in London most of the time: she only came home
to sleep, and always had something to do in whatever little spare time she had.

Alain was in love with her; there was no doubt of that in his mind. But he'd noticed that
she had changed this past week. Since going to London, Lily had become less amiable, less patient,
less… composed, in a way. She resembled less the woman with whom he'd fallen in love, and that
scared him.

Alain convinced himself that it was just a phase. Nothing could change Lily that deeply, he
knew, least of all a mere job. Nevertheless, he couldn't help being curious as to what in
London had caused her change of behaviour.

. . .

. .

.

*We fight all the time, you and I*

*That's all right, we're the same soul*

*I don't need, I don't need to hear you say*

*That, if we weren't so alike, you'd like me a whole lot more…*

**U2,** "Sometimes You Can't Make It on Your Own"

. . .

. .

.

"It would make so much more sense to use the entrance I suggested!"

Lily groaned. "Yeah, if you want the whole team to be dead within ten minutes!
*Think*, James! See this?" she pointed at a corner of the schematic drawing of the
building. "And this?" She slapped another blank portion of the map. "They're
bound to be waiting to ambush everyone here."

"No, they'll be around here," he gestured vaguely towards an area, and somehow
Lily understood his point of view. Naturally, that didn't mean she'd surrender any time
soon. "And your men will be slaughtered."

"They wouldn't be there. That would be absurd."

"Well, maybe that's how Death Eaters behave in *France*, but I've been a
strategist here for four years now, and—"

"You know perfectly well that most Death Eaters are trained in England, and have a similar
*modus operandi*."

"Meaning they'll expect Aurors exactly where I told you they would."

She leaned over the blueprints once more and examined the place. "There has to be an
alternative." Lily was more than used to creating different strategies for the same scenario,
but the accumulated annoyance of arguing with James for over two hours about this specific one
seemed to be blinding her. "There is, but I just can't see it."

"Maybe if you—"

"Please give me a few seconds to think," she snapped, staring hard at the parchment.
"It's here somewhere—why can't I see it?"

James decided to leave her to it. It seemed the wisest course of action to take, considering
they weren't half as efficient together as they could be working independently. Hiring Lily now
appeared to be an unproductive, if not altogether wrong, decision. How could he have thought it
possible for them to overcome personal obstacles and produce strategies with combined brilliance?
Sure, they were both respected in the strategy field, but any attempts at collaboration were
obviously doomed.

"Ha!" Lily yelped, jumping up to show him the parchment. James didn't bother
pointing out that he'd memorised everything back to front at least an hour ago. "See, if
we go this way—" she pointed.

James blinked. "Lily, that's—"

"—a sewer, yes, exactly! There are so many alternatives, and it's such an apparently
vulnerable building, that they'll never see it coming. They'll expect us to take one of the
obvious courses of action."

"Come on, it's dramatic and unnecessary! I'm sure they won't—" James gave
his reply some thought before continuing. The two of them had gotten to that point in the argument
where both parties kept opposing the other out of nothing more than inertia and annoyance. She
certainly had a valid point. It would be better to take the most unexpected, if less hygienic,
road. "All right."

She stared at him for a few seconds, caught entirely off guard.

"That's good," he continued. "Would you like to write the full report, or
should I?"

"You're… *kidding*, right?"

"No. No, I'm not. Why?"

"You're just going to accept this?"

James grinned. "Yes."

"Why don't you cross-examine it, and check if there are any flaws?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure you were extremely cautious about those, and double-checked
everything before presenting to me your grand solution. The worst flaws were our initial plans;
I'm sure this one will succeed."

Lily leaned her head slightly to the right, and surveyed him with undisguised curiosity.
Finally, she smiled. "Oh, you're good," she admitted, barely believing her own happy
satisfaction. "I hate you for it, but I *like* this."

. . .

. .

.

*When the night shows the signals grow on radios*

*All the strange things, they come and go, as early warnings*

*Stranded starfish have no place to hide, still waiting for the swollen eastern tide*

*There's no point in direction; we cannot even choose a side…*

**Peter Gabriel**, "Here Comes the Flood"

. . .

. .

.

The quiet rustling of paper and parchment had been the only sound in the office since midnight.
Only the occasional hurried scraping of a barely moist quill tip interrupted it, but, despite the
multiple breakthroughs both Lily and James had experienced that night, neither had bothered to
talk. There were still so many scenarios to process that having a brilliant idea or two seemed
unimportant; concentrating enough to generate them was a waste of time.

Their workload increased exponentially every week. Every Auror in the office often had to leave
much later than the usual seven o'clock, but it was common knowledge that the two Chief Aurors
only went home shortly before dawn. The routine was wearing them all out, of course, but they
forced themselves to keep up the rhythm, confident that this would be nothing but a temporary peak
in Lord Voldemort's activities.

Lily rubbed her eyes, running her fingers through her dishevelled hair. She had finally achieved
a point of exhaustion for which not even the strongest Awakening Charms would be any good. It was
impossible to read, analyse anything or even think logically without the immense tiredness
overwhelming her. Her eyes closed of their own accord every time she dared to blink.

Her schedule had changed so much, Lily pondered while attempting to focus on the blurry,
confusing blueprint on her desk. She was constantly tired, and couldn't quite remember how it
felt to rest for more than four hours.

"You should… go home," James said, yawning. "That way, you'll manage to get a
few hours' sleep, at least."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I haven't even finished all the scenarios for tomorrow!
Plus, I still have to check a couple of French mission profiles. No way."

He didn't push her any further; neither would have the energy to sustain an argument at the
moment. With a resigned sigh, he turned his dismal gaze to the parchment before him, and started
writing—this sloppy, barely intelligible scrawl that sooner resembled an old Healer's than
James' usually neat calligraphy.

Trying to convince her body to remain semi-alert for at least a few more minutes, Lily stood and
ambled to the window, slamming it open. She found a cigarette pack somewhere in her robes, and lit
up.

"Want one?" she offered out of automatic politeness, knowing fully well that James
didn't smoke. They'd discussed the topic before, and his nagging always bothered her to no
end.

James' head snapped up, like that of a dozing student loudly summoned into wakefulness by a
strict teacher. "Yeah," he replied, before understanding her question. His brain then
assimilated Lily's mild shock and the smoke aura surrounding her face. "Oh. Oh, no,
thanks."

"Okay," she shrugged, turning to face the window.

"Why do you even bother smoking, Lily?" he asked, stretching lazily. James knew that
he was in no state to work, but he'd found that chatting sometimes helped his mind to awaken.
"It's such a Muggle thing. I don't know; I mean, it's just rare to find wizards
who smoke."

"It's relaxing—I've been doing it for years," she shrugged, taking a long
drag. "No. That's rubbish. Actually, the truth is that it's an excellent thing to do
when one's bored."

"You're bored?"

"I was." Lily looked down at the dark city and smiled a content grin she didn't
want James to see. "Right now I'm just tired." She glanced at him with sudden
curiosity. "Have you ever smoked?"

Relieved at the prospect of an actual conversation, James walked to her desk and sat on it.
"I did for a while, when I first moved to London. I was all for partying, getting pissed,
living life, that sort of thing."

"I thought you'd started Auror training soon after Graduation."

"I did."

Lily raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I heard that you were one of the best students—you had
quite a reputation."

"When did that ever stop me from partying?" James chuckled mirthlessly, and added in a
sober tone, "But that was later. I was awfully irresponsible in the beginning! God," he
groaned, "I even flunked my first Concealment and Disguise exam."

"That must have been traumatising."

He nodded with a grimace. It was almost ironic that he, an Animagus and one of the best
Transfiguration students of their year at Hogwarts, should do less than exceedingly well in a
subject such as Concealment and Disguise. That was traditionally one of the hardest, of course, but
that shouldn't have stopped James Potter.

"Anyway, what about you? Why did you go to Healer training instead? You always wanted to be
an Auror."

The simple answer was that Lily had wanted to avoid studying with James. They had broken up
shortly before leaving Hogwarts, and the prospect of being stuck with him for several more years
had seemed unbearably dreadful. Naturally, she would never tell him that.

"Healing had always been an option, you know that. I decided to try it out—plus, Leylann
was there, too. In the end, it wasn't for me; I dropped out after a few months."

"I thought at the time—silly, I know—that you were trying to avoid me."

She was silent. Although Lily didn’t felt like lying at the moment, she knew that she would
later regret giving him such a private piece of information. "It's not good for me, you
know," she confided, out of the blue.

"What?"

Lily nodded towards the cigarette. "Muggles say it does you no harm, but sometimes I think
I can feel it doing something bad to my body. Maybe it's my lungs or something, I don't
know."

Had James been fully awake, he would've taken advantage of this opportunity to complain and
nag some more. He did no such thing. "Why do you continue, then?"

She shrugged. "I'm an Auror, James. It's not like there's a long life
expectancy in our line of work. Plus, what would I do if I ever got old? This is the life I've
always dreamt of, and this is the best it'll ever get. It only goes downhill once you get old
and senile." Lily shook her head firmly. "I don't want that."

"But didn't you say you were bored?"

"Don't you miss it?"

"What?"

"Not being bored."

"I'm not bored."

"Of course not. I don't mean bored *per se*." Lily rolled her eyes.
"Work here isn't boring. But—don't you remember how it was in the beginning? We were
all convinced that we could save the world, change our society and arrest all the bad
guys."

James frowned. "Well—"

"*Justice*. Do you remember, James, how it used to be all about justice in the
beginning? Dark wizards go to Azkaban; we rescue any good guys who happen to be in trouble and live
happily ever after. That was our ideal world: that was what we were fighting for."

"It still is, you know," he said quietly. "Of course it's not all as
black-and-white as we expected it to be, but it still is. I still hate Death Eaters, and I still
want them all to have a soulless, hopeless existence in Azkaban."

Her voice was almost a whisper now. "Did you ever realise that they're humans, too?
They're like you and me, except they've chosen a different side. Some of them never had a
choice, didn't even notice that there could be an alternative.

"Did you ever have to look into a young Death Eater's eyes when he receives the Kiss?
If not… don't. It changes you, James. This life changes you."

He merely nodded. Flashes of two executions he had been asked to witness filled his mind for a
moment, but he pushed them away with a firm, unshakeable sense of duty. Those men were wrong; they
were evil. It was useless to read more into all this.

"And then it became routine. It's sad, you know, because it's not *supposed*
to be routine. It's meant to shock you, seeing what the pitiful minions do to Muggles just
because they can, but it doesn't. Instead, you just get more and more annoyed, and start
obsessing about catching the big fish."

"And that's when the boredom comes along."

"Exactly." She laughed hoarsely. "Do you even know what I'm talking about?
You don't, do you? You're still in it for the good and pure in the world. Do you believe,
James, unlike every other Auror in the country, that we'll manage to defeat Lord Voldemort
someday?"

James had never considered himself a fool for having faith in his job, and his peers.
"Yes."

She shook her head.

"Like it or not, Lily, you *are* working with me. And don't give me any rubbish
about being bored! You can be a lot of things at the moment — above all, tired —, but don't
tell me you're not having the time of your life working with us."

Lily snorted at his smugness, but couldn't persuade herself to lie. "I'm not
denying it. It's… uplifting to be with you guys. I just—you seem so
*delusional!*"

He grinned, thoroughly ignoring the last part of her comment. "Glad to be of
service."

They had both run out of things to say, and she contemplated once more the confusing thought
that James had improved her lifestyle and job satisfaction. It was disturbing.

"I had a desk job in Paris, you see," she said suddenly. "Well, mostly desk, at
least, and missions were hardly as frequent and challenging as they are here."

"I don't know why you left in the first place. It's such an absurdity—you went to
*France* to be an Auror, when all the outbursts of Death Eater activity happen here!"

Lily shrugged. "At least we managed to contain his advances there."

"And why do you keep doing work for them?"

"I just revise a scenario or two every once in a while; it's no big deal."

"But you're exhausted!"

"I can handle it," she replied mechanically. "Actually, I have to handle it.
It's not like I dislike being under pressure all the time, you know that."

"Yes, but it's not doing you much good, Lily. We're all overworked, so you have to
try to cut back on your other activities if you can."

She grinned. "Does barely speaking to my boyfriend for days on end count? If so, I'm
certainly doing the best I can."

"You have a *boyfriend*?"

"Don't look so shocked," Lily laughed. "Yeah, I have a boyfriend—I did last
time I checked, at least. Poor schmuck, I've been ignoring him for weeks."

"I just, well, you've never mentioned him," James said vaguely. "Of course
you have a boyfriend; it's only logical. I'd never given the matter any thought, that's
all."

"His name is Alain and he's a French Auror. He's cute and perfect and rather
intelligent."

"Good for you."

Lily seemed thoughtful for a moment, waiting for further questions. When none came, she offered,
"You'd hate him—he gives off a distinctive Amos Diggory-ish feeling, you know? At least
he's got some of the attributes to justify that obsession with excellence and the obnoxious
overconfidence."

James was awed by the uncomplimentary description. One would have thought that a girl like Lily
would like to have a boyfriend loved and envied by all. Well, it was entirely possible that she
honestly cared little what her co-workers thought of the man.

"How… nice." She smiled and regarded him with curiosity. James felt compelled to reply
accordingly, but settled for a simple "I'm dating Julia Rutilia."

"Oh!"

"You know her?"

"Of course. I went through Auror training with Jules. She's a year younger than us,
remember?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You were... friends?"

"We *are* friends, I suppose. I haven't spoken to her in months, though."

"We've been dating for almost a year. Didn't she mention me?"

"I don't think so."

Lily cocked her head to the side and tried to imagine Julia and James together. They were an
unlikely couple at best—the girl was meek and somewhat naïve, and he was… well, *James*.

"Do you like her?" she asked.

"I do."

"That's nice." Lily walked back to her desk and sat, feeling considerably
reinvigorated. She appreciated these intervals, but every fibre of her ached, reminding her that
she still craved a bed. "Have you looked at the Heathrow scenario yet?"

It took him a few seconds to get back to his Auror mindset. James suddenly realised that
he'd become comfortable with Lily: he was no longer on guard all the time, and carefully
weighing his every word. They had just had an entirely civil conversation, and, for some reason, it
didn't seem all that absurd.

She was different now, in the middle of the night. Lily's defences were down, and it
wasn't so desperately hard for him to come through to her, or for them to communicate with
efficiency. This peace wouldn't last, he knew as much, but it indicated that it could be
somehow possible for them to get along.

. . .

. .

.

*Under surface, trying to break through*

*Deciphering the codes in you*

*I need a compass, draw me a map*

*I'm on the top; I can't get back…*

**Coldplay**, "Square One"

. . .

. .

.

It was early morning when Lily returned to the room. She was rested—they all were, after a nice
two-hour magically enhanced sleep—, and, strangely enough, in a good mood. James knew far too
little about that relationship of hers to speculate whether the cause of Lily's spirits could
be meeting Alain in the morning, or the opposite.

James looked up to greet her with their customary flood of random reports and work-related news.
Lily lifted her hand before he could start. "How about we just start this day off
normally?" she asked. "You know, the way most other co-workers do?"

James stared at her quizzically.

She sighed. "A 'hey, how are you?' would be nice."

"Lily!" he exclaimed expansively, grinning. "How are you, darling? Looking good!
How's the family?" Without a moment's hesitation, he stood and gave her what, had she
cooperated, could have been an affectionate bear hug.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, she laughed. "You can be scary sometimes, James
Potter."

"And that's news since when?"

She smiled, and sat at the desk. A switch seemed to flicker in Lily's brain, and, all of a
sudden, she was on dead-set business mode, moving papers around, and looking for something.
"So, about that Manchester scenario we'd discussed yesterday, I think—"

"You didn't answer my question."

She threw him a confused look. When James noticed that she had deemed his interruption
irrelevant and was about to ramble on about work, he repeated, "Answer the question,
Lily."

"Um." It took her some seconds to remember it. "My family? I haven't spoken
to Petunia in a long time. Last I heard, she and Vernon were happily married."

James laughed. "She actually married him? Merlin, they deserve each other, but he was
boring to the point of—"

"—making anyone want to chortle the man just to make him shut up, I know," she
chuckled. "Yes, they got married. She doesn't want anything to do with me, so I just ring
her every few months. They don't have children yet, and I assume that it bothers her to no
end."

"Yes, she's always been obsessed with the idea of a perfect life, I remember that. What
about your—?"

Much to his surprise, Lily seemed a tad flustered. "You do remember my mother is dead,
don't you?"

"Of course." He frowned. "Back in third year… You were devastated."

"Yeah. Well, my father died a few years ago, too."

"How did he—?"

"Heart attack."

All Aurors quickly learned to suspect deaths identified by Muggles as cardiac failures. James
raised a suggestive eyebrow, and Lily grimaced.

"I know. No, no. I looked into that possibility; actually, I obsessed over it for months.
It was just a regular death."

"Why would Voldemort have killed him?"

"I—I don't know. He worked in a bank, nothing remarkable. But see, the kill had none of
the Death Eaters' usual trademarks."

"That's no news. It happens all the time," James replied, examining her
intently.

"Yes, but why would anyone attack *him*?"

"I've just asked you that."

"My question was rhetorical. Look, it wouldn't make sense to go after a man—and a
Muggle at that—just because his daughter is an Auror," Lily reasoned. "My living in
France would suggest, at the very least, a certain distance from my father, which wasn't far
from the truth."

"His murder would affect you nonetheless. Anyone who's ever been your friend could have
told them that you cared deeply for him."

"Well, yes, but who was I at the time? I was no one! I was doing nothing remarkable! If his
goal had been to frighten me, then Voldemort should have made it clear, by previous threats or
telltale signs, that it had been his doing."

"Murder *was* the first thing you thought of, wasn't it? It was your first
guess."

She sighed. "Yes. Yes, it was."

"It made you desperate. You wanted revenge, and took every mission personally. You still
hate him for it, despite all proof to the contrary of his intervention." James shook his head.
"We've both seen it happen a thousand times. Voldemort loves terror—you may never know for
sure."

Lily's hand nervously grasped his forearm. "James! *James*. I appreciate your
concern, but… Look, I understand that, in our line of work, it's more than expected of us to be
mistrustful of seemingly obvious solutions. But you have to believe me on this one. I'm a good
Auror. If there were anything to be found there, I would have done so."

One detail struck James as odd. "You did all that from France?"

"Oh, no. I asked some old friends here to help me." Lily seemed uncomfortable, and he
foresaw her reply milliseconds before she said it. "Namely, Remus and Frank. You
don't—you're okay with that, right?"

"Of course," he said, surprising even himself by meaning it. He didn't feel
betrayed, or even annoyed. "I could have helped."

"No, you wouldn't."

"I would. Your father was a nice guy."

Lily cracked a smile. "Well, thanks anyway."

After a brief silence, he said, "Shall we get back to work, then?"

"Yeah." She gave James an open grin, and he returned it. "Did you look at the
Manchester thing?"

"Yes, but I think you forgot to take one thing into account."

"What?"

"Muggles."

Lily stared at him.

"I know you want to do it at night, but St Mary's Gate is never deserted."

"I can heighten security, but that may weaken the team."

"Yes, but it's a big shop! There will be cameras, and all sorts of alarms. Just see if
you can work that in the scenario. Other than that, I have no problems with the strategy in
itself."

She tilted her head. "Do you want to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Go on this mission. It hasn't been assigned to anyone yet, and it's an interesting
challenge."

James shrugged. "I could."

"It's been over a month since you were out on the field. I don't know about you,
but I often need the adrenaline."

"No, yeah, sure."

Lily scribbled a short note and beckoned her owl.

"Don't you want to come with me?"

She turned to look at him with mild surprise.

"I mean… We haven't been out together yet. It should be interesting, at
least."

It took her only a moment to decide. "Yeah." Lily smiled, writing her name besides his
on the parchment. "Yeah, okay, let's do it."

. . .



3. Monkey Wrench
----------------

**Hopelessly Addicted**

Chapter 3

**"Monkey Wrench"**

.

. .

. . .

*Every day a new disguise; every night a Halloween*

*She says, "Keep the motor running, man"*

*Like I was some machine*

*You can talk, talk, but I'm keeping her stock*

*I wouldn't even change a thing…*

**Smash Mouth**, "Digging Your Scene"

. . .

. .

.

Lily's brisk walk became a slow sway when she entered the shop. Her dark auburn hair had
been magically changed to look white-blond and her eyes were strikingly blue. Her clothes did not
at all resemble her usual sober, classic dressing style: she wore a close-fitting turquoise blouse,
a blood red leather jacket, and embroidered jeans. Everything about her—down to the blatantly
expensive jewellery and the high-heeled designer sandals clearly not made for casual afternoon
shopping sprees—stated self-confidence, excess of money and willingness to spend it. Those were the
kinds of traits all saleswomen had a trained eye for; they gravitated towards her like worker bees.
They paid no attention to the quiet, subdued man behind her wearing large glasses and a suit.

Lily started asking for different accessories in a purposefully undetermined European accent,
and they were brought to her almost at once. She made some unfunny quips and they all laughed,
suggesting more items at which she happily agreed to look. No one noticed when the man went up the
stairs and disappeared into the storage room.

James closed the door silently behind him and examined the shelves. It was here somewhere; it
had to be, but where? He could use no spells to locate the small potion bottle: the Muggle
equipment surrounding him was far too sensitive. He couldn't even move clothes around, lest the
cameras caught the suspicious movement.

Suddenly, the door swung open and two saleswomen entered, chatting loudly. James, protected by
his Invisibility Cloak, took advantage of the moment to search around more thoroughly. Anyone
watching was bound to focus on the girls instead of packages moving around on their own.

Minutes later, he threw his arms up and would have growled in frustration if he had intended on
scaring the poor women to death. Where would an unsuspecting Muggle hide an object handed to her by
a dark wizard for safekeeping? The girl had no idea that her lover was actually a Death Eater, of
course; she probably thought that the man was—oh, her opinion of Rodolphus Lestrange mattered
little! Where could she possibly have put it? She was a mere employee, with no access to the safe.
This room was the obvious alternative, but...

The solution was so obvious to the point of being an offense to his intelligence. How could he
not have realised it? She worked with *perfumes*, for goodness' sake!

James bit his knuckles in frustration, an old habit of his. Why were those two obnoxious
gossipmongers so busy chitchatting right in front of the damned door?

After far too long, they left. He took advantage of the closing door and slipped out, finding a
quiet corner to remove his Cloak and return to the main store space.

Lily seemed to be having a blast. James had no idea how she'd managed to play this part so
well; apparently, there were some hidden depths to his partner that he had never known. While
unsuccessfully attempting to catch her gaze, he wondered if she enjoyed this thrill as much as he
did. There was something about going undercover that never ceased to entertain him—the greater
possibility of being caught, probably, as opposed to regular rescue missions. Such reflections
usually led to his inner revolt at the stupid choice to become a mere strategist.

Lily had just moved away from the perfume section. Behind her, several women held the chosen
items: she had clearly been busy. James had to dodge a few of them to approach her.

"Have you got everything you need, ma'am?" he asked in a subservient way that did
not suit him in the least.

She suppressed a smile. "Yes, I believe so. But oh, something terrible happened! I broke a
bottle of *no. 19*! Not that it's any good, naturally," she added, glancing at the
nearest woman with a knowing grin. "Chanel could never surpass good old *no. 5*."
Lily turned to James, making sure that her message had gone through. "I of course offered to
pay for it, but they would hear none of that."

"That certainly won't be necessary," a woman with a manager-ish air about her said
smoothly. "It was merely an accident, completely understandable."

"Shall I pay, then?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. For some reason, they hadn't
bothered discussing this part of her cover, and James in all likelihood couldn't afford half of
what the girl had picked.

Lily tilted her head to the side, and examined her many piles of designer accessories. She would
never need any of these things, and it would be stupid to buy them simply so that the saleswomen
wouldn't feel bad.

She apologised to them inwardly before saying, "Er... No. I don't think so. There's
not enough variety here, I think. I can easily find better in London, or back in Zurich." Her
blank face took on a condescending look, and she said with a smile, "Thank you all. You were
immensely kind."

The collective exasperated sighs were audible and the hateful glowering, palpable. Each of these
women would probably be frustrated for the whole day for not making this huge sale, and hers was a
face they wouldn't forget any time soon.

"Do you remember where you parked the car, Robert?" Lily inquired, having clearly
forgotten all about the shop and its attendants. One of the least infuriated women walked towards
the door to open it for the almost-customer. "I think I'm already late for tea at
Nina's. Shall we?"

"Of course, ma'am. Follow me."

.

. .

. . .

*What do you do when all your enemies are friends?*

*Now and then I'll try to vent*

*Under pressure, wind up snapping in the end (one in ten, one in ten)*

*Don't wanna be your monkey wrench*

*One more indecent accident...*

**Foo Fighters**, "Monkey Wrench"

. . .

. .

.

Dorcas tentatively pushed the half-open office door, and was forced to duck a surprised-looking
cat. The poor animal barely had time to meow before it hit the bottom of the stairs, becoming a
large mug and exploding. The ensuing silence was reassuring, and she risked a glance at the two
Chief Aurors, who had suspended their loud discussion to stare at her with surprise.

"I'm sorry," James said at once, walking to her. "Are you all
right?"

Dorcas nodded, and tried to take in the gruesome sight of the room. She—as well as everyone else
in the office, and perhaps even Lily and James—thought that the two of them had stopped having
these horribly destructive arguments two weeks prior. Nobody understood why the damned things
happened, crediting it to both Aurors' familiarity and temperamental geniuses. Nevertheless,
those occurrences were so frequent that she had often wondered if keeping the two working together
was worth the hassle.

"What's wrong?"

Lily and James blinked in confusion for several seconds before coming up with an answer.
*Ah*, Dorcas realised, it was one of *those* arguments. Neither knew what had set it off,
but it seemed serious, and was likely to go on for hours unless interrupted.

"She wanted Sirius on the team," James explained.

"And?"

"And James doesn't feel like working with Sirius on this one is a good idea."

"All right, so you pick another person."

"But I don't have to follow his opinions all the time! He's not even going on this
mission—I am! I should get to pick my own team, that's all."

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "Of course you have to, *Chief Evans*. He's your
partner."

Lily frowned. "He's unreasonable."

"No, *you* are," James intervened at once. "I'm only asking you a
favour, one that's likely to help you, and you won't listen! Have you stopped to think that
I may know Sirius a bit better than you do?"

"I know him well enough," she shrugged, "and I think he would be perfect for
this. Can't you respect my own instincts?"

"Obviously not," Dorcas said with an understanding grin. "And that's why you
started arguing. I see. Well, send someone else, then."

"Why must you agree with him?"

"No, I mean other than *you*, Lily. Pick another team altogether, both of
you."

James made a face. "I suppose we could do that."

"Maybe Frank's?"

"Oh, good idea," he said with a grin, shuffling parchments around his table until he
found a blank one. "I'll send him the plans."

Lily returned to her desk and started munching on the proper end of her quill. "Do you
reckon one of them can take a Disguising potion instead of pure Transfiguration? Just to be safe,
you know—in case there are unforeseen magic barriers."

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe even more than one could do it."

"Great!" She smiled and promptly turned her attention to another scenario. "Ah,
this one looks interesting."

Dorcas took longer to adjust to the restored peace than the two Chief Aurors. Every single time
that she thought that they would never work quietly again, off they went to discuss their
strategies as if normality had never been disturbed. Why couldn't they be a tad more
stable?

Since Lily's arrival, no one at the office had managed to maintain the old routine. Dorcas
assumed that this had been positive in a way, but in time it had grown to become simply
annoying.

"What's this about you guys leaving early today?" she demanded, remembering all of
a sudden the reason she had climbed the stairs in the first place. "Not that it's a
problem—today's Saturday, after all—, but I'm just asking if something's
wrong."

"I have a date with Julia," James said, without looking away from the parchment.
"It's our anniversary today."

"I have to meet the boys."

"The boys?" James stared at her with surprise. "You mean boys as in… my
friends?"

"Yeah."

He blinked. "Okay."

Lily stood up and walked to her owl, handing her a sealed envelope. "You know we've
always been close. They're going to Leylann's tonight." She paused in a distinctly
meaningful way, and even Dorcas knew at once that, depending on what James replied, a major
argument could be about to start.

Thankfully, his response was guarded. "I know; I'm stopping by later."

He had no idea whether she'd have a problem with that and, frankly, he couldn't bring
himself to care much. Before they even knew of Lily's existence, Sirius, Remus and Peter were
James' friends, and she most certainly would not keep him from meeting them whenever he felt
like it.

James remembered well enough that he wasn't expected tonight. Perhaps Julia wouldn't be
too fond of the idea of stopping by at Leylann's—not on their anniversary, of all days. Either
way, it wasn't like he'd pass on this opportunity. He didn't recall what the
Marauders' interaction with Lily was like back in the day, but in a strange way he feared their
closeness now that the two weren't the best of friends. It was prudent to keep an eye on the
reunion.

"All right," Lily said nonchalantly. She knew better than to ask about his
anniversary. The idea that James was actually jealous of his three best friends and her was far too
entertaining, and she allowed herself to dwell on the thought for a few moments. How could she have
forgotten how amusing it was to annoy him in small ways like this?

.

. .

. . .

*It's a luscious mix of words and tricks*

*That let us bet when you know we should fold*

*On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped*

*And all the whole mess of roads we're now on…*

**The Shins**, "Caring is Creepy"

. . .

. .

.

"So you've been dating this Alain guy for almost two years," Sirius prompted,
taking a swig off the sixth wine bottle of the night and passing it along to Peter. Wormtail was
quickly becoming red-faced and sullen, his standard drunken behaviour, and downed some beverage
quietly. "What's he like?"

Lily was lying on the sofa, and grudgingly lifted her head to look at Sirius. The effort,
however, was far too tiring, and it made her dizzy; she resigned herself to staring at the ceiling
for the rest of the night. "Boring," she said, reaching for the bottle Leylann sat up to
hand to her. "Boring, boring, boring—but he's a nice guy."

"You like him, don't you?" Remus asked with a yawn. "He's predictable—the
marrying type, probably."

"Since when does Lily like predictability?" Leylann laughed.

"I do! I actually do, you know. He's so safe! I mean, I know he'll always be
*there*. And he'll always care more about whether I'm wearing the right scarf for the
occasion than about my career or anything. It's comforting, in a way. He's the only close
friend of mine who not only doesn't see me as an Auror but also honestly doesn't care
either way."

"And you like that?" Sirius was shocked. This choice resembled little those of the
Lily he'd known back in the day, but he supposed that made sense. She was somewhat unchanged in
several aspects, but she'd learned how to make better choices when it came to her love life.
After all, trusting James had led to the worst disappointment in the poor girl's life.

"I do."

"Good for you, then," Remus raised the bottle in a salute. "I hope the bloke
proposes soon."

"He will," she grinned, and then chuckled. "His family loathes me,
though."

"What, aren't you the perfect French lady?"

Lily snorted. "My last name is plain 'Evans,' Moony, not some posh one like
'd'Épernay' and whatnot. Plus, I've never been too fond of those endless cocktails…
and holiday *Masses*! What's the point of going to Mass if you're a wizard
anyway?"

"Ssh," Leylann chortled with the wine and a suppressed laugh, "Julia will be here
soon, don't let her hear you say that!"

Lily stared at her thoroughly puzzled for a while until the vague old recollections came
through. "Oh! Her mother's one of those conservative Catholics, right? I remember
something like that."

Leylann nodded.

"She believes all that too, I think. She's tried to take Prongs to Mass many times,
probably following her Mum's recommendations," Peter piped up all of a sudden. "I
don't know, but can you imagine him in a *church*?"

"In the old days, he'd blow up the Parliament itself if he felt like it—" Sirius
began.

"And you'd help him," Leylann interjected.

"We all would," Remus conceded dismissively. They had always been like this, the four
of them. It was unimaginable for any of them to think of undertaking any particularly heavy task
without counting on each other. Lily wondered just how much of the old unity had survived work and,
well, life. It didn't seem possible to maintain much nearness through it all; the line had to
be drawn somewhere, and it often shut people out beyond repair.

"Yeah, anyway, but he's no fun these days—especially now, Lily, since you've come
back. No offense," Padfoot was quick to add, "but he seems so much more obsessed with
work! He has barely seen Julia these past few days, you know. We manage to corner him every once in
a while, but still!"

"*I* haven't had much of a life, either. Everything's just so
hectic!"

"Lil, I'm an Auror too," Sirius pointed out while handing her the bottle.
"Not that much has changed."

"Well, we're working on some different projects," she shrugged. "The Chief
Aurors' board has far too many ideas for their own good, see, and we're usually the ones
chosen to execute them."

"And how do you like sharing an office with him?"

"It's better now. We used to fight all the time, but we've gone to the field
together a few times this week… it helps release tension, you know."

Leylann threw Sirius a coy look, and they laughed. Lily glowered, somewhat ineffectively, in
their general direction.

"Don't even start, seriously. It's so not like that anymore."

Remus grinned. "Oh, Lily, I just want to be there when you *realise* it."

"There's nothing to realise, Moony."

"We've seen this before, that's all." Peter threw his arms up in mock
surrender. "You can’t deny that the situation does seem a bit familiar."

She rolled her eyes. "With the minor difference that I'm all too aware of the fact that
James is, in fact, a bastard."

"Prongs isn't that bad! He's changed now."

"I'm perfectly content with just being his partner, thank you very much."

"Not *that* changed," Remus conceded. "Lily would keep a closer watch on him
than Julia does, and he wouldn't get away with much of what he does nowadays."

Sirius snorted. "Oh, come on, Moony! Have you looked at the girl's face? She's
*begging* to be cheated on, and I don't even think she'd mind it that much if she
knew."

"Of course she minds it."

"You think Julia doesn't know?"

Remus hesitated. "Well, maybe she chooses to ignore it. But Prongs hides it moderately
well, no? We know it because we're always around when it happens."

"Guys," Peter pointed out calmly. "You're not helping with the
convincing-Lily part."

Sirius was mockingly horrified at the implication. "I don't want to convince
Lily!"

"No, no, Peter," Remus slurred. "Lily's an independent girl now. We don't
want them back together. Do you remember how utterly tedious it was to have James behave
properly?"

"I mean, the guy works all the time, Wormtail. He has to have some fun every once in a
while—and we all know Julia's not that kind of girl."

Lily actually raised her head this time, and the shock in her eyes was clear. "You mean
she— they—" she stuttered, staring at Sirius. "I always thought she was a bit of a prude,
but I just assumed she didn't like *talking* about it."

"I wouldn't know," Remus shrugged. "Padfoot is your guy for that kind of
information. James doesn't bother asking me for advice when it comes to that. Plus, he knows I
don't like this obsession—"

"*Moony's* a bit of a prude, Lily," Sirius clarified with an expansive
gesture, knocking over the bottle he had just opened and growling. "Julia's a whole other
level. I think they shagged tonight, though. I don't get what it is with the girl! Why do some
women have this thing with *waiting*? It's so bloody stupid. Plus, a man has needs. She
should be aware of that."

After a faint *pop*, Sirius became a huge black dog and promptly started licking the wine
off Leylann's carpet. She watched the scene with dismal resignation, being clearly used to this
sort of disaster.

Peter sighed and reached for some wand on the central table. He muttered a spell too low for
Lily to hear and dried the wine, much to Padfoot's annoyance.

"Julia wants it to be special, I guess."

Sirius resumed human shape and started opening a new bottle. "And where was this girl at
Hogwarts?" he went on, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the past few seconds.
"Why couldn't she have found some bloke to take care of it at some point? I mean,
*really*, she's twenty-five years old! That's long enough!"

"Twenty-three," Leylann corrected. "And just because you're fond of sluts,
Sirius, it doesn't mean that all men are. If James weren't, for instance, he wouldn't
have remained this long with her, his affairs notwithstanding."

"James… is weird," Sirius replied quietly. "I don't get him,
either."

"What?" Lily demanded with a strident laugh. "Is James thinking of marrying
her?"

"I think so," he frowned. "I really don't know. He's never mentioned it,
but I suppose that there is no other reason for him to carry on with this relationship,
right?"

"I pity the woman who marries him, I do," Lily said, closing her eyes. "I would
hope that it's not Julia, whom I'm actually fond of, but I guess it is, so I'll
remember to wish her good luck."

Peter tittered. "It could've been you, you know."

"What?"

"I remember he asked his mum for the ring and everything during Christmas holidays.
It's a pity you guys didn't make it."

"It's not a pity," Remus replied for her.

Leylann made a face and tried to say nothing.

"Well, we'll never know. But no, I don't think Prongs would've been the best
for Lily. They're far too high-strung, both of them—don't you remember how terrible their
fights used to be?"

"Good point."

"I'm better off alone," she said simply.

"You do have a boyfriend, Lily."

"I mean... James-less. Alain never had nearly as much impact on my life as he
does—did—well, both, really."

Somehow, Sirius managed to stand up and walk a few steps. All in all, he'd always had higher
alcohol tolerance than his friends, even though he usually felt drunk earlier than the rest of
them—sometimes, alcohol didn't even need to be involved. Lily lazily watched as he made his way
to her, managing not to knock over any objects or liquid-filled containers.

All of a sudden, Sirius' face was alarmingly close to hers. His grey eyes bore into hers
with drunken intensity, and his voice sounded sober and grave. Lily had never noticed that his eyes
were so big. They scared her a little.

"Lily," he said, taking a deep breath. "You have slept with this man,
right?"

Her eyes widened and it took her a few seconds to start laughing. He took a step back at
once.

"Hey, there's no need to shower me with saliva!" he complained, wiping his face
with a grimace. "I'm just asking a perfectly valid question!"

She quieted down and sighed. "Look at my face, Sirius."

"I was looking, until you decided to—"

"I'm not Julia. James and I humped like bunnies—sometimes in the same room as you—for a
whole year. Do you honestly believe that I could have changed this much?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, no, but..."

"But what?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "I don't mean to pry or anything, but it sure looks like you
haven't gotten any recently—your being tense and focusing too much on work and all
that."

Lily grinned. Was it that obvious? She and Alain weren't the most excited of couples when it
came to sex nowadays, but it had never been all that stimulating. Their routine had slowed down to
one, maybe two times a month, and she simply didn't look forward to it anymore. Not that she
had any time and disposition to think about that sort of thing even if she did enjoy it, of
course.

"Well, if you ever need any help to unwind," he winked, "you know I'm always
available."

"Hey!" Leylann interjected, laughing. She wouldn't mind it at all, and everyone in
the room knew it. Her relationship with Sirius wasn't in the least stable, and that was the way
the couple wanted it to be.

"And so is Leylann, of course," he added with a smirk. "You know, in case
you're in the mood for another of those. I would really love to be involved this time instead
of Prongs, if you wouldn't mind. If you do… Well, I can just borrow his Cloak and bring a
camera. Just let me know—you won't see or hear me, I promise."

.

. .

. . .

*Baby, slow down—the end is not as fun as the start*

*Please stay a child somewhere in your heart*

*I'll give you everything you want, except the thing that you want*

*You are the first one of your kind, and you feel like no one before...*

**U2**, "Original of the Species"

. . .

. .

.

It was a clear and beautiful dark moon night. The room was perfect, just like Julia had planned
it to be. There were candles and petals everywhere, and the smell of flowers was intoxicating.
James had been trying immensely hard all night not to mention how much it was bothering him, but he
assumed that the atmosphere played an important role in Julia's fantasies, so he'd let it
pass.

Changing his sheets had been unnecessary. The satin-ish cloth she had chosen—James knew nothing
about fabrics, so he really couldn't tell what it was—clung to his sweaty back and made it
uncomfortable for him to move. The lights were dimmed, too, to an indefinite brown tone, giving him
the constant impression that the smoke from the burning candles hadn't left the room. It was
suffocating.

All things considered, James couldn't wait to leave his bed, and get as far away from his
apartment as possible. He had never been a romantic guy, and this setting was exaggeratedly so; the
fact that Julia had spread her long curly hair on his chest didn't help the heat, either.

He was supposed to feel relieved, wasn't he? The year they'd spent together had zoomed
by, and for several reasons he hadn't craved sleeping with Julia as much as anyone would expect
him to. Now that it was over, he found it quite unsatisfying and, to be honest, a little
boring.

Of course he hadn't expected her to know the Kama Sutra front to back. James had had no
concrete hopes of what tonight was supposed to be like, and he therefore assumed that there was no
disappointment in his mind. It was something else—he just couldn't quite place it.

Maybe it had been the surprise of finding out that Julia wasn't, in fact, a virgin. His ego
had been a tad bruised by that, without a doubt. Perhaps this lack of fulfilment had to do with his
old habit of looking at his girlfriend in a somewhat non-sexual way. Since meeting Julia, he'd
figured that he would be in this relationship for the long run, and such petty things couldn't
interfere.

She opened her eyes to look at him, resting her chin on his chest. "James?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you—"

"It's okay."

He wasn't supposed to care about that new piece of information, and he knew it. It
wasn't all that important, after all. He could simply ask Lily or Leylann who Julia's
previous boyfriends were if he got curious. Maybe he could even do it tonight.

Nevertheless, she seemed eager to tell him everything. "You never asked. It's just... I
never really knew how to approach you with this. There was this one other guy—the one I dated
before you—, and we were about to get married when he left me."

James nodded in silence, stroking her hair. "Don't worry about it, really. It's no
big deal." He gently pushed her head to rest, so that she couldn't catch the pensive look
in his eyes.

When was he going to propose? It was a pressing question, whose answer was entirely unknown to
him. Was he ready to take such a big step? They both knew that they were getting married, of
course, but there was no real deadline. There could not have been one, lest James freak out and
cancel everything on a whim.

He had to make one decision at a time. Sleeping with Julia had been a misstep. It hadn't
been fun at all—and he had to learn not to expect that from her. She wasn't the love of his
life: she was the woman he intended on marrying. He would manage to live with her for years. They
knew each other's shortcomings well by now, and he was sure that hers wouldn't be much of a
problem.

The girl was perfect for him, really. She was everything James had always wanted in a wife. He
had no idea why he still had a nagging feeling indicating that this wasn't going to work out,
that this wasn't right. It was absurd.

"I have to go to Leylann's," he whispered, stroking her back. "I promised to
the boys that I would. You can, too, if you want."

Whenever he bothered making the offer, she tended to catch the drift: he never actually wanted
her to come.

"Sure, okay," she replied. "Let me just have a quick shower."

James groaned inwardly. Did Julia feel that she was entitled to this sort of thing now just
because they'd shagged or something?

"I'll go first—I'm already late anyway. We'll meet there, all right?"

She nodded drowsily, and he tried to move away in a smooth manner so that her position would not
change too abruptly. He failed, and Julia would have rolled to the ground, had he not reached for
her in time. After securing her position and hugging her for a while more, James felt her drift off
to sleep and stood.

He couldn't wait to get to Leylann's flat. Spending time with his friends was bound to
be the most entertaining part of his night.

.

. .

. . .

*What I wouldn't give to find a soulmate, someone else to catch this drift*

*And what I wouldn't give to meet a kindred…*

*Enough about me! Let's talk about you for a minute*

*Enough about you! Let's talk about life for a while*

*The conflicts, the craziness and the sound of pretences falling all around…*

**Alanis Morissette**, "All I Really Want"

. . .

. .

.

"Prongs!"

James suspected that Remus' uncharacteristically loud greeting was not directed to him, but
to the other people in the room who might not have noticed his entrance. He briefly wondered what
they had been discussing, but the reflection was dismissed at once. If it had been anything
interesting, the talk would reach his ears at some point in the evening.

"How was your date?" Leylann asked, observing his facial expression with attention. He
hesitated, and she sighed, handing him the bottle.

"It was fine," he ended up saying, not to anyone's satisfaction.

"Well?" Sirius prodded.

"We did do it, if that's what you're asking."

"*And*?"

James shrugged.

"Was it that bad?"

"No, it was simply unsurprising—except for the fact that she had done it before."

"She did?" Leylann asked, her mouth hanging open for a moment. She then slapped her
forehead. "She did! That's right; I remember! She dated what's-his-face for a long
time during Auror training!"

"True!" Lily exclaimed, sitting up quickly. "She was engaged to the younger
Prewett, the one who dated Amelia back at Hogwarts. What's his name again?"

"Fabian," James replied at once. He tried to picture the couple together: Julia and
Fabian weren't too bad a match. Why had he never known about this?

Lily shook her head. "He dumped her all of a sudden, and we had to comfort her. Merlin!
That was one *traumatising* break-up for everyone involved, including us."

"It wasn't as bad as yours," Leylann commented with a smile. "I could barely
stand to look at James' face for months after Graduation."

"Well, I was an arse," he said nonchalantly.

"You were."

No one minded discussing the topic of Lily and James' relationship with either of them, but
it seemed strange to do so with both present. Everyone felt that it was sort of taboo, and bound to
cause awkward silences.

"Damn, it's getting late," Leylann said to no one in particular, checking her
watch. "I have an early shift tomorrow."

Sirius decided that such digressions were unwelcome and wanted to get back to the topic of
Julia. "I take it you had no idea, then, Prongs? That was probably not pleasant."

"Your male pride is wounded, James?" Lily laughed. "Don't worry. He only got
in her pants because they were supposed to be married. She's still quite pure."

"Oh, I know that. It's no big deal."

"She'd be desolate if she found out that you've been cheating on her."

"She won't find out," he replied soberly. "I'm careful."

"I bet you said that about me, too," Lily retorted in a surprisingly acerbic tone.
"Try not to be too obvious—for her sake. She's probably in love with you, even if it
isn't reciprocated."

"How can you assume it's not reciprocated?"

She shrugged.

"Don't act like you're one to talk about cheating, Lily," Sirius sneered.
"I met Benjamin Fenwick a few months ago and he mentioned meeting you."

Lily grinned.

"And I could tell by the way he was talking that he had scored. Did you know that he's
married, by the way?"

She nodded, and was about to talk when Leylann interrupted her. "Fenwick? You're still
involved with him, after all this time?"

"Well… sort of. We're old friends—that's all! I've met him once or twice every
year since we broke up, and we happened to end up in bed every time. It's entirely casual, with
no commitment whatsoever."

"How quaint," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "I thought you had decided to become
a settled, responsible woman."

James scoffed. "Oh, sure." He looked down at the bottle from which he'd just taken
a swig and seemed pensive. "Why are we drinking this anyway? Since when do we drink wine by
the gallon?"

"Lily brought it," Remus explained. "It's French."

"I thought the French drank wine properly."

"Most of them do, but I'm not French. Plus, I haven't gotten properly shitfaced in
a while, and I felt like it tonight. Oh," she remembered suddenly, "I want a
cigarette."

"You smoke?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, and James complains about it all the time."

"Why would he do that? He used to smoke, too, and bloody well liked it."

"I know, but he—"

"Having people smoking around you is annoying if you're not one of them," James
clarified. "It bothers me, especially because our office is not big enough for the smoke to
disperse before it gets to my desk."

"Don't you miss it?"

"Sometimes, yeah, but not too often. It's a habit I've mostly grown out of, I
think."

Lily stood, waited a while for the dizziness to disappear, and walked to the window. There, she
lit up and sat on the windowsill, hugging her knees.

What was she doing here? She had completely lost contact with her French friends over the past
few weeks. It had seemed natural to politely ignore their invitations and only meet a few of them
briefly during the weekends. Lily was more and more willing to return to this life—to hang out with
the Marauders and Leylann again—and to let the others drift away.

Maybe it was because no one else was quite compatible with her current lifestyle. Being in
London meant meeting several old acquaintances at work on a daily basis. It also meant being around
James, who, little though she liked to admit it, affected her personality in ways she couldn't
always control.

Her reasons for leaving England seemed a tad ridiculous in hindsight. She had needed the
distance to become more self-assured and independent, sure, but moving to another country
altogether had clearly been an exaggeration. Lily could handle James now, for better or worse. It
went without saying that she was more than able to avoid any kind of involvement with him.

"Give me one?" said a voice directly behind her, nearly startling Lily into losing her
balance. James had foreseen her shock, of course, and his tight grip on her arm would've
prevented her from falling if that had been the case.

"I thought you had grown out of it," she grinned, reaching for the pack in her
pocket.

"I did say that I sometimes felt like smoking," he replied, also smiling. "Mostly
when I drink, actually, but people I'm out with generally don't have any, so I make
do."

James lit up and took a deep drag. "Ah," he sighed contently.

Lily laughed at his satisfied facial expression. "What, wouldn't Julia let you have one
after sex?"

He made a face. "No way."

Lily threw out her stub and motioned for James to give her another one. He complied. It was a
welcome change, she wondered bemusedly, to have him not criticize her smoking for once.

"How was tonight?"

"It was great," she said, looking out the window. This neighbourhood was usually quiet
at night, and the weather these days had been freezing to boot. There were no cars on the street
below, and the only sound outside was the occasional howling of the wind. "I missed them—I
missed all this."

He blew some smoke carefully upwards, watching its intricate patterns for a few seconds before
asking, "Are you coming back for good?"

"I think so."

"That's good." James turned to gaze at her with strange intensity. "I do like
working with you, you know, despite… everything."

"You won't get any peace at the office any time soon," she noted with a smirk.

"It's quite all right. My job was significantly less adventurous before you came
along."

Lily laughed, and slid out of the windowsill. It was only then that she noticed that the living
room was entirely empty. "Has everyone gone to sleep?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Probably. Leylann did say that she has to get up early tomorrow."

"Right," she blinked, still confused. It made little sense for them all to leave at
once, unless—

James concluded the same thing, and suggested, "They may have thought that we—"

Lily shook her head, grinning. They were incorrigible, the lot of them. They might not have
wanted the two Aurors to have any involvement other than professional courtesy, but no one would
want to get in the way if that were the case.

"Come on," he said amiably. "I'll walk you home."

Lily raised a sceptic eyebrow, and threw him an amused look.

James smirked. She was rather sober, and he was aware of that. "It's unsafe to Apparate
when one's drunk, see."

"I live in Paris."

"Even more so, then," he countered, walking to the coffee table and fishing out of the
mess what he assumed by the stunning weight to be Lily's purse. "Lead the way—we'll go
on the count of three."

.

. .

. . .

*This apartment is starving for an argument*

*Anything at all to break the silence*

*Wondering around this house like I've never wanted out*

*This is about as social as I get now…*

**Dashboard Confessional**, "Saints and Sailors"

. . .

. .

.

"If you wanted to see my apartment, you could've just asked, you know," Lily said,
turning on the lights in her living room. The place wasn't messy—she was home hardly long
enough to organise it, let alone disarrange things—but it looked positively neglected. The scant
plants had been kept alive through magic; the ashtrays and couches hadn't been used in a while;
the table was dusty and empty. It was a sad sight.

"I've already seen it, a long time ago. You brought me here when your grandmother got
sick, remember?"

"Oh, right." She went to the kitchen and called out, "Do you want something to
drink, eat, anything?"

"No, thanks."

James looked around the flat. It resembled Lily in a way he couldn't quite describe, but
everything gave off such coolness that the similarities became hard to identify. So this was how
she had been living all these years! Her home sooner made one think of a redecorated hotel room: it
had no warmth whatsoever, no vivacity.

He sat on the sofa. Its light pastel tone indicated that it hadn't been made to sit on—at
least not by people as messy as his friends.

Lily returned and sat in front of him. "So, James, what *are* you doing
here?"

He shrugged and said nothing. She had the distinct impression that he wasn't sure himself,
but pressed on nevertheless.

"You knew I could have come back alone."

"I was just—I don't know. I didn't feel like sleeping."

"You could always go to the office and work."

"I didn't really feel like doing that, either."

"How unusual." She reached for the pack of cigarettes and he motioned that he wanted
one as well. "My boyfriend's probably here, you know."

James had no reaction. "Why would that be an issue?"

"I'm just saying."

They smoked in silence for a few minutes. James thought about Lily, Lily's previous life,
and why his friends were so convinced that they would get back together at some point. That
wasn't a possibility. He hardly ever thought of her that way anymore, except for one or two
occasions during which he'd let his mind wander too far into the past for his own good.

Lily shifted uncomfortably on her seat. "So… um."

"I should probably get going," James said absently, his thoughts visibly far away. At
the moment, he was sure that he didn't want to go home and meet Julia. For whatever reason, the
idea made him somewhat uncomfortable. He wished that he could come up with something to chat about
with Lily, but they hardly discussed anything but work.

Coming to this apartment had brought on the startling realisation that James didn't, in
fact, know Lily as well as he thought he did—not anymore, at least. There were parts of her
character and history that, due to circumstances beyond his control, were locked away from him.
That was bothersome, even though he didn't know why.

James had always taken his knowledge of Lily's personality for granted. He'd never
stopped to think that she might have changed beyond his comprehension. She certainly didn't
seem all that different when they were together, but perhaps that was an unconscious effort on her
part: maybe the old familiarity was important to keep them tuned.

James had matured, and he was certain of it, but she had never caught more than slight glimpses
of that. The reverse was possibly true as well.

"What did you do?" he asked out of the blue. "While you lived here, I mean. What
was your life like?"

His question confused her, but she caught her footing in time. "It was fine. I started
going out with Alain not long after I came here, so I had to adapt my lifestyle to that of the
official girlfriend of the oldest Delacour brother." Lily gave him a half-smile and went on,
"They have galas and dinner parties. It's quite tiresome."

"You told me you'd been bored. Is that why you cheated on him?"

"No." Lily was thoughtful for a few moments. "Perhaps partly, but—I don't
think I could put it that way. I chose this life for me, and I knew exactly what it would be like
when I did so. It's frustrating after a while, but I figured long ago that stability was what I
needed in my personal life."

"Was work in France that chaotic?"

She grinned. "You know perfectly well that enough obsessing about anything can make it seem
a lot more important and complicated than it is. Well, I've always enjoyed obsessing about
Strategy. It's relaxing, in a strange way."

"Most people would say that that's escapism, that you were trying to avoid focusing on
other aspects of your life."

"It's not that!" She frowned. "You know that it's not that, don't
you?"

Lily *expected* him to know her. How could she, when she obviously thought that he had the
emotional maturity of an eighteen-year-old? How could she trust him with this friendship—theirs was
a bizarre friendship, without a doubt, but it was one nonetheless—and with her life on the field on
a regular basis when she had no trust whatsoever on him?

Well, of course James trusted her implicitly. His belief in her capacity for cruelty towards him
was superficial: they cared for each other in a purely instinctive way neither would like to
acknowledge. He'd never realised it until that very moment, but it was the absolute truth.

Snapping away from his reverie, he replied, "Actually, I think it is exactly that. You need
to have absolute control over some part of your life, but you also need excitement and challenge to
keep you going, so you decided to have an insane job and a zealously ordinary love life."

She tilted her head to the side and didn't retort. If that statement had come from most of
her other friends, she would've denied it, but it hardly seemed worth it with James. Who better
than him knew what a hopeless control freak she was?

James smiled. "Tonight was quite enlightening, Lily."

"How so?"

"It just was." He stood and glanced at her. "I guess I'll see you on Monday,
then?"

She chuckled. "Will we manage to survive Sunday without contacting each other? It
hasn't happened yet."

"Well, it's hardly our fault that so many teams need emergency missions prepared over
the weekend. Voldemort's to blame—but I hope he keeps quiet tomorrow. I'd like to get some
sleep, for a change."

"So would I," she agreed, standing. "Good night, then."

"Sleep well," he said, preparing to Disapparate. "By the way, I almost
forgot—nice apartment. It's very… *you*."

. . .



4. Love and Peace or Else
-------------------------

**Hopelessly Addicted**

Chapter 4

**"Love and Peace or Else"**

.

. .

. . .

*This mood of yours is temporary*

*It seems worth the wait to see you smile again*

*Out of the corner of your eye*

*Won't be the only way you're looking at me then…*

**Dashboard Confessional**, "Again It Goes Unnoticed"

. . .

. .

.

Alain drank his coffee in silence, pensively staring at the stove. Lily had arrived home late
last night, and was now getting some well-deserved rest. Even on weekends, he had never seen her
sleep this late, but he supposed that it was only natural. The poor girl had slept only a few hours
per night for several weeks, and she had today finally managed to stay in bed long after noon.

That job of hers was destroying her life. Every day, Alain had to stop himself from asking her
to quit—how could Lily not notice how damaging it was? The constant stress combined with the risks
to which she was daily exposed would inevitably lead to tragic consequences. She would soon begin
to suffer serious physical consequences from the fatigue, in addition to the psychological
unbalances he had noticed since her first day at the new position.

He worried about her, he really did. Alain was quite aware of the fact that Lily didn't
think she needed to be taken care of, and he had to be tactful when expressing his concerns, but
the situation was getting unbearable! He kept reminding herself that one day she would change back
into her normal self, but well over a month had gone by already. The conclusion was evident:
working in London would keep her in this awful state until she returned to her French job.

Naturally, his family hadn't been helping matters at all. They continued to pressure him to
leave Lily, convinced that she would be unfit to perform her social duties as part of their clan.
As much as Alain hated to think of his girlfriend in that way, he couldn't help but admit that
his mother was at least partly correct in her criticisms. Lily had never seemed overly enthusiastic
about behaving in the way he expected her to, but nowadays she did not even attempt to act in the
expected way. Her excuses were legitimate—lack of time, lack of disposition—, but he sensed that
there was a deeper issue behind her rebuffs.

The worst of it was that she not only refused to be a part of his life, but also didn't
allow him to participate in hers in the least. He didn't know what she did in London when she
stayed there until three or four in the morning. He had no idea what her work was like. Lily
didn't even speak French at home these days—that is, when she wasn’t ignoring his feeble
attempts at conversation. She hadn't even given him as much as a proper kiss in weeks!

A quick knock startled him. His girlfriend didn't receive visitors very often, let alone
unexpected ones. On the other hand, Death Eaters and dodgy characters, especially wizards, were
unlikely to knock. He walked to the door and opened it a little.

A tall man with black hair and glasses smiled at him. "Hello," he said amiably,
"I'm James Potter, a colleague of Lily's. May I come in?"

The British Auror's arrival startled Alain. A sneaking suspicion that this Potter had come
to drag Lily to work on a Sunday afternoon began forming in the back of his mind, and he frowned
while standing back to allow James inside the apartment.

"Alain Delacour. Nice to meet you."

They shook hands, and Alain took advantage of the moment to observe the visitor with more
attention. James Potter walked with poise and had a resolute air about him that inspired
confidence. Even though his clothes had been obviously put on in a hurry, he was groomed tidily
enough—with the exception of his exasperatingly disarranged hair.

"I'm sorry I didn't send any warning that I was coming," James said. "I
didn't know the code to the thing downstairs, so I just Apparated here."

He seemed, Alain thought with some amusement, quite English and at the same time not so in the
least. This man was both disorganised and playful at times. Unlike Alastor Moody and Frank
Longbottom, he did not resemble the stereotypical British Auror.

Did this man work with Lily on a daily basis? What did he think of her? Alain wanted to know how
she behaved in London, but he wouldn't dream of asking a complete stranger for such intimate
information.

"It's quite all right, Mr. Potter," Alain replied with distant politeness.
"I'm afraid that she's resting at the moment. I can pass on a message later, if
you'd like."

"Oh." James frowned. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have to wake her—it's
rather urgent."

Alain's body stiffened visibly. He stared at James with the most intense yet distant glare
he could muster. "If you work with Lily, you know that she's been working herself to
exhaustion every day for weeks. It's the first time I've seen her rest in a while, and you
simply cannot disturb her."

He seemed puzzled—either that or he assumed that playing dumb was the best course of action.
"Why not?"

"It's *Sunday*," Alain retorted with deliberate coolness. "People
aren't supposed to work on Sundays."

James was torn between wondering whether the Frenchman was obtuse or barking mad. "Do you
honestly believe that Death Eaters respect silly things like Aurors' days off? Really, Mr.
Delacour, I'm on a somewhat tight schedule here. I do need to talk to your
girlfriend."

"Well, you might as well try solving whatever this problem is by yourself," Alain
concluded in a tone that permitted no further discussion. "She's unavailable."

Unfortunately, James was more stubborn than he. "If you'll excuse me," he said,
ignoring what the other man had just said and walking in what he assumed to be the direction to
Lily's room. Alain couldn't bring himself to do something as childish as trying to block
his passage, but he simply glowered after the guy, looking sullen.

What a positively unnerving man this James Potter was! It was little wonder that Lily was so
overworked, if all her co-workers were this obsessive and tiresome.

For a moment, Alain wondered whether Lily and her colleague got along well. That was an idiotic
question, he knew; she always at least appeared to be good friends with everyone she worked with.
She was far too sociable to provoke any office tensions, even with such an exasperating Englishman.
How could she manage it?

.

. .

. . .

*I see you in my memory, as vivid as today*

*And I wonder, do you see me in that same, familiar way? (…)*

*Wasn't it true? Do you remember like I do, or is it all tainted in your view?*

*Could I be just a dream or two away from you?*

**The Corrs**, "Remember"

. . .

. .

.

James was wearing a pink rabbit costume. It didn't suit him in the least, and it was a
rather disturbing sight. Lily stared at him for a long time before she burst out laughing. The
situation became even more bizarre when she realised that he, in fact, had no idea that something
was wrong. He simply sat on a chair and chatted with her, somehow behaving at the same time as a
harmless furry toy and as the work colleague with whom she was so familiar.

His appearance was glaringly uncharacteristic, and no mission, however important, could have
convinced him to expose himself to this ridiculous a situation. She tried to warn him repeated
times, but he just smiled and kept talking.

Out of the blue, he reached for his long right ear and started slapping her face with it.
Befuddled, Lily didn't react for several seconds. The damned thing was surprisingly firm, but
also ticklish—it was torture. She winced and kept her eyes shut, blindly trying to grab him.

"Stop. Stop, damn it!" she yelled, kicking him away. "I said
*stop*!"

"I can't!" he replied, pulling back for a brief interval. "Come on, now. Get
up, Lily."

She shielded her eyes with one of her arms and once more reached up to grab his ears with the
other hand. "Why are you wearing that stupid bunny suit?" she growled. For some reason,
however, the ears seemed to have disappeared. All her fingers managed to grasp were a few strands
of his regular messy hair.

"*Bunny suit*?" James echoed, clearly amused.

She opened her eyes at once and looked around the room. James was wearing plain Muggle clothes;
there was nothing out of the ordinary. Lily groaned. "Bloody hell," she mumbled, pulling
the covers more tightly around her. "You won't leave me alone, even when I'm
asleep!"

"I *was* tickling your ear," he admitted, "but I had to talk to you. If I
recall correctly, that is the easiest way to wake you up."

"Sit," Lily commanded, burying her head in her pillow and hugging it. She wasn't
used to sleeping this much, and it was probably the reason for her current slow thinking. Her mind
was only now catching up with the world around her: what was James doing in her apartment anyway?
He never did anything but send owls, however pressing the problem was.

Meanwhile, James made some room on the far corner of the mattress and sat. "So," he
began, "I take it you still haven't looked at the instructions you received this
morning." She looked in the direction where he was pointing; sure enough, a large manila
envelope was on her nightstand. "I'll break it down for you: the French Minister's
decided to visit London despite his staff's complaints, and we're in charge of organising
everything."

"How… lovely," she yawned. "And why is that urgent?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not. But, as you can guess, this puts an immense amount of
pressure on our work schedule this week. We need to get started as soon as we can, so we're not
caught off guard on Friday."

Lily nodded, massaging her temples. "How long have I slept? I feel retarded."

"It's a little past two."

Her eyes widened in horror, and she shrieked, "You mean in the afternoon?" It was
clearly an unusual occurrence, and James wondered when Lily had last slept until after noon. If her
shock were anything to go by, a reasonable estimate would be at least five years ago. Merlin's
beard, when had she become this scarily obsessed with routine?

"Well, you *were* very tired. Don't worry; I won't let you sleep in again any
time soon."

She grinned. "I won't let myself, either."

James offered her his hand for support and she sat up, yawning. "How are we going to do it?
How many places will he visit?"

"Actually, the Minister's open to ideas. I sent him a letter suggesting that he stay
put and receive visitors, and he didn't complain. I was thinking of renting a house; it'll
make our job much easier."

"How lovely! You've never worked with the man, but let me tell you—that's rare.
He's probably terrified of going to Britain. People here tend to think that people are always
murdered whenever they dare leave home in London."

He made a face. "Some people there think so, too. Dumbledore always says that that's
Voldemort's greatest achievement. It's sad, really."

"Have you started looking for a place?"

"Yeah. There's this house over at Godric's Hollow—I thought we could check it out
first," James grinned, "for obvious reasons."

She rolled her eyes. They had both read *Quidditch Through the Ages* several times: the
Golden Snitch had been invented in that little village. "I see you haven't outgrown your
Quidditch obsession. All right, we'll go there first."

Lily stood up and walked to the bathroom. Out of habit, James let his gaze follow her. She
looked good in that short nightgown, he thought with approval. He hadn't had a chance to see
her in anything but formal Muggle clothes or long wizard robes in years! It was a pleasant sight,
and it evoked memories he didn't bother disregarding.

Of course he remembered the teenage Lily back at Hogwarts, and how different she had become
since then. She had always been an overachiever, but James, as her boyfriend, had been well
acquainted with her impish and downright sadistic side. He had never thought of her as composed or
detached, and it was impossible to do so now.

She returned to the room, brushing her teeth, and chose what to wear. "I have to
change." Her voice was barely intelligible, and he had to make an effort to understand her
words. "Would you mind?"

"Oh, please," James rolled his eyes. "There's nothing I haven’t seen
before."

Lily laughed and ran to the sink, covering her mouth in order not to let anything spill.
"You couldn't possibly remember!" she called out. "It's been six years! I
don't feel like refreshing your memory."

"Why wouldn't I? I hadn't been with anyone for that long until Julia. Ours was my
first real and complex relationship, you know. It's hard to forget—both the miserable failures
and the good things about it."

"Hopefully sex is in the latter category," she said with a smirk, standing directly in
front of him.

"Obviously." The corners of his lips twitched in a smug grin, and he shamelessly ogled
her from head to thigh. "*You* couldn't possibly have forgotten that,
either."

"I can't say I recall much, actually," Lily replied through gritted teeth,
grasping his hair and forcing him to turn his gaze to her face. He chuckled, and she remembered,
too late, that treating James with physical roughness was no way to upset him. "You have to
leave. Go to the living room and wait for me there. I'll be out in a minute."

"I can't. Your boyfriend's not too fond of me, I'm afraid."

Lily blinked a few times. She had thoroughly overlooked Alain's presence. What could he have
thought about James' barging in as if he owned the place?

James stood up abruptly. "I'll wait for you at the office," he said, lifting her
chin to look her in the eye. "Don't take too long."

He remained in that position for a moment. During those confused and bizarre seconds, Lily
thought James was going to kiss her for some strange reason of his own. It wasn't beyond him to
do something like that just to try to throw her off balance, and her mind raced with conjectures of
what her reaction could be. It would be far too puerile to slap him, but she couldn't start an
argument about it when her boyfriend was in the next room. What was that insane Marauder thinking
anyway?

Her eyes betrayed her bewilderment, and James flared his nostrils, suppressing a grin. He
Disapparated without saying a word, and Lily was left behind wondering what had just happened.
Puzzling her was his intention, without a doubt, but why had he bothered doing so in the first
place?

Staring at her reflection in the mirror while fixing her make-up, Lily realised that James had
just hit on her. It was probably a mindless reflex of his, and something he enjoyed just for
entertainment, but it was a disturbing fact nonetheless. He certainly expected nothing to come from
it—Lily was not stupid enough to be drawn back to him.

Despite that, his doing so made Lily proud, in a way. She tied her hair in a ponytail, wondering
how far she would be willing to take some playful mutual teasing. After all, there was nothing
better to get one's mind off the constant stress of guarding an important visitor twenty-four
hours a day.

.

. .

. . .

*I pay the grocer, you fix the toaster, kiss the host goodbye*

*You break a window, burn the soufflé, scream the lullaby*

*I know nothing stays the same, but if you're willing to play the game*

*It's coming around again…*

**Carly Simon**, "Coming Around Again"

. . .

. .

.

There was a polite knock on the well-polished old door. The house seemed splendidly preserved;
if its ad was anything to go by, it was over a century old. Lily looked around: the garden
wasn't too lavish, but the owner had obviously cared for its few plants over the years.

The owner had not placed a 'for sale' sign anywhere outside. It was always dangerous to
sell old wizard homes to unsuspecting Muggles, even in an area as peaceful as this. There were
bound to be unpleasant surprises, and potentially disastrous outcomes were not hard to imagine.

The door creaked open, and a plump lady peeked through the crack. After a brief exam of the
visitors' faces, she said, "Hello. May I help you?"

"We were passing by and noticed that your house was for sale," Lily said, not
mentioning directly that they were wizards, but stressing the implication with a slight raise of
eyebrow.

Unfortunately, the lady didn't realise that fact, and was clearly frightened. "I—ah—the
house has a few problems, mostly to do with—er—bad plumbing. It's rather noisy." A low,
constant grunt echoed in the room behind her as if to confirm, and they identified the noise at
once.

"You have a ghoul?" Lily asked with as much discretion as she could, barely concealing
her delight. It was so rare to find them these days! Ghouls were completely useless and a bit of a
nuisance at times, but she had never pictured inhabiting a house with none in the attic.

The old woman was visibly relieved. "I'm sorry for being cautious," she said,
moving out of the way to usher the couple inside. "There are a few houses not too far away,
and few wizards inhabit the area; I'm always scared that a Muggle may want to buy the house.
What can I do? Frederik wails far too often, and I can't persuade him to leave!"

James smiled. "It's quite all right. Here—" he held out his hand, "I'm
James Potter, and this is Lily Evans."

"Of course!" she slapped her forehead. "Where are my manners? It's lovely to
meet you. I'm Arabella Figg. Can I offer you some tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Cake? Some cookies, perhaps?"

"No, really, thank you. We really just wanted to look around. We're in a bit of a
hurry."

Lily was already busy inspecting some corners of the living room, testing the foundations with
some handy spells. The structure wasn't in bad condition, which was excellent. She grew fonder
of the house by the minute—it was just so *perfect*! The only thing was that unbearable cat
smell. Lily had never been much of a pet person; she didn't like having to take care of
them.

James had started sneezing. It took her a few seconds to remember that he was allergic to the
damned animals, and wouldn't manage to stay here for long without having everything sanitised
first.

"We should start, then."

Mrs. Figg proceeded to give them a long tour, showing them every room in the house, as well as
presenting each of her dozens of cats. James' nose was bright red by then, and he was trying
his best not to be too loud. His partner felt truly sorry for him, but it was hard not to
laugh.

Lily certainly liked the house. She'd already begun making plans and analysing the best
spots for protective spells and artefacts. James would have done the same, had he been able to
focus on anything other than his dry, itchy throat and inability to breathe.

Arabella Figg was oblivious to the visitors' predicament, and didn't take any of the
blatant hints Lily muttered from time to time. "Can we see the garden?" he blurted out at
last.

Thankfully, Mrs. Figg loved the idea. "Of course! Here, let's take the long way out—you
haven't seen the pantry area yet. It's wonderfully spacious! Several of my cats live
there."

James groaned audibly and grasped Lily's arm for support while his body shook with
suppressed coughs. She smiled at him encouragingly and said, "We're almost done." He
nodded, but his gaze was miserable. At least she was sure that James wouldn't have tolerated
the entire tour if he, too, hadn't loved the place.

"That's Miss Tibbles over there; I've been meaning to use her to get some new baby
kittens, but I would hate for them to get used to this house. I'm just waiting for an
opportunity to move out of here."

Lily would never be able to tell all the animals apart; several of them were the exact same
shade and appearance, but Mrs. Figg could identify them at glance.

"That's Mr. Heckles. My dear Titus, bless his soul, gave her to me on our last
anniversary. They do resemble each other! Mr. Heckles likes nothing more than to sit on the old
armchair and stare at the aquarium all day."

"Mrs. Figg," Lily cut in smoothly, "would you be by any chance interested in
renting this house?"

"Oh, no," the lady shook her head. "I want to sell it, so I can move to a small
Muggle town near London, or maybe even in Scotland."

Lily frowned, visibly disappointed. That statement meant that all this trouble had been in vain;
they weren't interested in buying the property. Neither she nor James, of course, had any use
for such a place, and the French Minister's budget wouldn't accommodate such an absurd
waste of money.

James' hands were shaking. He rested his forehead on Lily's shoulder, and she patted his
back. "Let's get out of here," he pleaded in a strangled tone. "I—I can't do
this anymore. Please."

Arabella Figg turned to look at them, and was touched by the couple's sadness. "You
can't buy it?"

"No," Lily replied. "We're on a bit of a budget—it would be just a try-out,
not for long. But that's all right; we'll keep looking."

After a brief internal conflict, Mrs. Figg changed her mind. "Let's make a deal.
I'll rent you the house for a month. Afterwards, I'll wait for your bid before letting
anyone else buy it."

Even James perked up at the offer. "Wonderful!" Lily exclaimed. "When can we move
in?"

"What's—" he sneezed loudly, "the price?"

"Oh, I don't know. How does something between two and three hundred galleons
sound?"

Lily frowned. The price exceeded their entire budget for the mission. Just for a change, she and
James would have to take funds from their own savings accounts to cover the costs. "Two
hundred would be ideal."

"Two hundred it is, then," Arabella nodded. She only then noticed James' poor
state. "Are you feeling a bit under the weather, dear?"

"He's a bit allergic to cats," Lily explained. "He'll be fine once we
leave. Mrs. Figg, is there any chance we can come here this week?"

"Of course! I'll be out by tomorrow. I've already made arrangements. Are you sure
he will be all right?"

"Positive," she replied genially. "Thank you so much for your time! We'll
stop by tomorrow afternoon—around two o'clock, say—, pay you in advance and bring all the
paperwork."

"Three sounds perfect. I'll see you tomorrow, then!"

Arabella shook hands with the couple, and James hurried to the exit. When he arrived outside, he
heaved what seemed to be the deepest and most satisfying sigh in his life to date. He had never
inhaled oxygen—pure, odourless air—with this much gusto.

"How are you feeling?" Lily asked when she came up behind him, chuckling.

'I'm not coming back to this place until someone removes all the stale stink in the
house," he growled.

"I assumed as much," she said, ruffling his hair with an amiable smile. "Hey, you
survived! The rest of the work shouldn't be too hard."

He sulked. "It was terrible! You have no idea."

"I know—I was there, James."

"The Minister will never give us two hundred galleons for something like this."

"We'll see what we can arrange, and split the rest between the two of us. It won't
be the first time."

"You did like the house, didn't you?" he asked, grinning. "You had this…
*look* in your eyes! I had never imagined you as a housewife before, but I could tell you
couldn't wait to fetch an apron and start cooking."

"I'll never be a housewife! But this place is adorable, isn't it? It makes you want
to make tea and scones and—what was it that she said again? Oh yes, our children will love the
spacious yard, and the large windows will allow me to watch them from the kitchen!"

He laughed. "Why didn't you tell her we weren't a couple?"

"I never said we were. It's just easier that way, I guess. It's not like we could
tell her the real reason that we were renting it."

"Right. Shall we?" he asked, nodding forward in no particular direction. They had
wandered to a reasonably hidden spot, from where it would be safe to Apparate. "There's an
insane amount of work waiting for us."

"Sure. Ah, bloody hell, I forgot to ask her for the blueprint. Remind me to do that
tomorrow, will you?"

"I'll try. I could make it, too. I know a few handy spells." He winked. "I
was always very fond of maps, you know."

"Oh, I remember."

James tilted his head to examine the property. "We could use a Mirroring Charm there and
there, coupled with a simple *Reducio* and a Drawing Quill. But what can we do to join it with
the other side?"

Lily knew next to nothing about map-making, and James didn't expect her to contribute.
"Can you take care of that, then? I think I want to get started on this tonight, at
least."

"All right. I'll meet you for dinner at work."

She nodded and Disapparated. James barely noticed her absence, already absorbed in the task
before him. Naturally, it would be necessary to stop by Diagon Alley to buy a Drawing Quill and
several pieces of parchment. He would then have to fetch his broom and fly around the place in
order to perform all the spells.

On a second thought, maybe that wouldn't be necessary. James returned to Mrs. Figg's
front door and knocked.

"Oh, hello, dear," she greeted with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfectly fine, thank you," James replied, also grinning. His breathing became uneven
as the terrible stench invaded his nostrils, and he hurried to say, "I wanted to ask you if
you had a blueprint of this house. We're making plans and everything, see."

"Of course! Hang on a second; I'll have to find it. Come, come on in!"

"No, thank you." James desperately tried to find an excuse, but for some reason his
clogged brain offered none. "I still haven't looked at this lovely garden," he
finished lamely.

Arabella threw him a baffled look, but left despite her puzzlement. Moments later, she returned,
holding a large roll between her hands. "Here you go. Are you sure you don't want to
enter? I'll make us some tea."

"No, thank you—really. I have to get going. Lily's waiting anxiously for
this."

Mrs. Figg smiled benevolently. "You two make an adorable couple! You seem to love each
other very much."

James' eyebrow was about to shoot up as a reflex, but he held back. "Thank you,"
he beamed. "I'm a very lucky man. Now, Mrs. Figg, I do have to leave. I'm terribly
sorry for not staying, but—"

"No, no, I understand. Have a good day, Mr. Potter! I'll see you tomorrow."

.

. .

. . .

*I've been there before, but I will try again*

*Any fool, any fool knows that there's no way to win*

*Here we go again; she'll break my heart again*

*I'll play the part again, one more time…*

**Norah Jones & Ray Charles**, "Here We Go Again"

. . .

. .

.

"There's one basic problem with this scenario," James stated after reading
Lily's preliminary draft.

Their office was always messy, despite the couple's best efforts. Lily had always been
extremely tidy, but it had gradually become unfeasible to keep the piles of stationary, books and
owl cages under control. They'd given up a while ago; on slow days, however, she still tried to
arrange everything to give the appearance of organisation. There hadn't been a slow day in over
two weeks now: it was impossible to find a square foot of clear floor space.

"I know," she admitted with a sigh. "No one can enter after the barriers are
established without dismantling the entire system."

James stood and, trying to avoid stepping on anything too important, walked to the nearest wall,
using his wand to enlarge the blueprint on which she'd drawn her suggestions. He stared at it
for a few minutes before adding some schematic arrows and signs of his own. "If we do it this
way," he pointed, "we can cast the Deflecting Spells and the heaviest defence charms on
these sides of the house and leave the left side apparently unprotected. We'll hope no one
notices it; if somebody does, we'll have to be ready and prepare the usual traps once most
people are inside. No one will expect all air access to be blocked, and the only spot available for
Apparition will be heavily guarded."

"What did you write near the door?"

He grinned. "Potions—we could prepare a few cauldrons and leave them hanging on the inside
right over the entrance. It's a tad medieval, I know, but it may work."

Lily laughed and approached the parchment, examining it more closely. "It will quite
possibly be more of a risk to clumsy people inside than to invaders, but okay. We'll discuss
that later."

"Do you think people will mind if we restrict broomstick usage?"

"Probably, but it's safer that way. Ah, and we also have to remember to call the Floo
network first thing tomorrow morning. What about Muggles? Do you agree with making the place
unplottable for a few days?"

"Making it unplottable may be a good idea, but many Muggles in the area know the house.
They may find it strange if the place is suddenly falling apart, or under construction. We'll
have to have something to prevent them from approaching—a Distracting Jinx, perhaps?"

She shrugged. "Yes, but not strong enough to affect any insane wizard who may prefer to
come see the Ministry using the regular means of transport."

"There's that, too. Do you think that's a possibility?"

"You know Dumbledore's a fan of Muggle trains."

"True." James grinned. "Do you think he'll come? I miss the man sometimes.
You weren't here before, but there used to be weekly Order meetings back when Voldemort
wasn't so universally feared."

"Oh, what a pity! They're rather exciting. I do wish he'd schedule one soon—I'd
love to see what everyone else's been up to. I can't help thinking that nobody can do much
to change our current situation, but it does help my conscience to do my best."

He sighed. Lily's scepticism bothered James, and he hoped to convince her otherwise someday.
How could she fight this hard against Voldemort's minions if she had no hopes of ever
succeeding? "We've discussed this, and we both know you think I'm a hopelessly
idealist. Now, back to Godric's Hollow. We need to take some elementary precautions to stop
sounds and images of what's going on in different parts of the house from reaching unsolicited
eyes and ears."

Lily tilted her head and looked at him strangely. "Why? It would be good for people to hear
if someone screamed, or something of the sort."

"Oh, of course, but we'll cast surveillance charms and have projections of every room
appearing in the office. We just don't want visitors overhearing confidential
conversations."

"Sound-blocking spells on floors, windows, doors and walls it is, then. We'll block all
the keyholes and have all the windows show empty spaces. Perhaps it would be better to control
every visitor in some way? We could give them some cloak that would report any unusual movements to
us."

He laughed. "I do hope the Minister doesn't invite any girls to come see him. Okay,
let's do that."

"James," she said out of the blue, checking her watch. "I want to go home and
grab something to eat. Maybe you could get started on the scenarios for Monday while I'm
gone?"

"Okay, sure," he replied. "Actually, that's a great idea. I'm starving,
now that I stop to think of it. We'll meet back here in half an hour. Is that all
right?"

"Make that an hour. I still have to cook and everything, see."

"No problem." James arched an eyebrow and hesitated before adding, "Unless you
want to go out and eat something."

Lily stared at him with astonishment. His wasn't an innocent invitation, and she knew it.
They had never bothered spending time together outside the office; lunch hour had always been the
most peaceful time of the day. "We don't eat together, James. Remember?"

"Well, I don't see why we shouldn't. We're both here, we're hungry, and
there's a nice restaurant three blocks away." She caught the impish look in his eyes when
he smiled and said, "That is, if you're not afraid of people thinking that we're going
out again or something."

"Because of course it would be nothing like that," Lily replied, also smiling.
"We're just co-workers, after all. It's normal to go out for dinner after a long day
at work—not on Sundays, granted, but it's still not that outrageous."

"No, it's not outrageous."

Lily's attitude intrigued James, and he observed her carefully. Was he supposed to deduce
something from her behaviour? Her demeanour was sending him several kinds of inappropriate
messages, but he was aware that this was her revenge for what he had done that morning.

Could she possibly be interested in allowing their more or less professional relationship to
evolve to something else altogether? The prospect was attractive, but James could already foresee
many valid reasons against it. The most likely inference was that Lily was simply toying around
with him.

No man enjoyed this sort of game more than he. Nevertheless, he wouldn't let her get the
advantage this easily. "But, since you didn't like the suggestion," he said perkily,
"I'll go to Remus' and search his refrigerator for something interesting."

Lily didn't understand his abrupt recoil, but pushed no further. "I'll see you in a
bit, then," she said, waving goodbye.

.

. .

. . .

*The world was on fire; no one could save me but you*

*Strange, what desire will make foolish people do*

*I never dreamed that I'd need somebody like you*

*I've never dreamed that I knew somebody like you…*

**Chris Isaaks**, "Wicked Game"

. . .

. .

.

The damned woman was going to drive him crazy. James wasn't sure how Lily had done it, but
she had managed to infiltrate his mind so thoroughly that even in the most inappropriate of times
images of her unexpectedly popped into his head.

He hadn't seen this coming. While irritably scrubbing his torso with a sponge, he wondered
what Lily could have hoped to achieve by indulging his idle flirting. James knew her well enough to
notice that she had been pleased to do so, even though some of the signs had been quite subtle. The
way she smiled at him right then, the mischievous gleam in her eyes, her superficial air of
refusal—everything pointed in a direction he hadn't expected their relationship to take.

Before this morning, Lily had never indicated having thought of him as anything other than her
annoying work colleague. Now, they seemed to see each other in an entirely different light—he did,
at any rate. James had spent the last few minutes relishing old memories, and had no intention of
going back to regarding Lily in a purely professional light.

Of course, the whole thing could be a mere product of James' imagination. Thinking back with
some objectivity, he realised that Lily had said nothing outrageously flirtatious. It was possible
that her reaction had been a mockery, made out of contempt for what he had done to her the previous
morning.

James had no idea why he had almost kissed her, but she didn't seem to have reacted to the
idea all that badly. Perhaps she wouldn’t have objected. He hadn't had a clue at the moment,
but in hindsight maybe he should've gone through with it.

James closed his eyes and let the water wash over him. Why did the possibility excite him this
much? He was far more experienced nowadays, and knew that Lily's bedroom skills, however fun,
had been in no way extraordinary. Oh, he knew himself well enough to identify the simple reason for
this explosive attraction: she was off-limits.

Everything made sense once he thought about it. Lily had entered his life as an Auror on his
team, and as such out of reach. Furthermore, she had made a point of demonstrating irritation and
provoking him into losing his nerve from day one. To make matters even more complicated, she
strived at the same time to appear somewhat cold and unattainable.

James had always loved to chase after difficult women. Sirius had often mocked him for it, but
it was understandable—he got easily bored with simple women, or at least those who seemed less
intricate. It had taken him weeks to win over Julia, for instance. Lily wouldn't be that much
of a drain, in all likelihood, and the prize was bound to be worth the hassle.

Getting involved with Lily Evans meant trouble. It was a stupid thing to do. It was little
wonder, really, that James was so eager not to resist temptation. Thoughts of their office life
afterwards came into play at some point, he knew, but they was almost too easy to disregard. He
wanted Lily, and someday he would get her. Things were that simple, as a rule, and all it took was
time.

Speaking of which, he glanced at his wristwatch and nearly jumped. It was a quarter past seven,
and he had arranged to meet his team at the office fifteen minutes ago. They'd go over all the
plans and assign each Auror's tasks. He would spend even more time this usual with Lily this
week, and there was no knowing what could happen.

James grinned at his fuzzy reflection while wrapping himself in a towel. Could he get to her
before they left for Godric's Hollow? The scenario couldn't suit his plans better. He had
to move soon, and fast.

.

. .

. . .

*I don't know if I can take it—I'm not easy on my knees*

*Here's my heart; I'll let you break it*

*I need some release, release, release, release*

*We need love and peace…*

**U2**, "Love and Peace or Else"

*. . .*

*. .*

.

James paced around Remus' living room, striding circles around the quaint brown sofa.
He'd sent word to the three Marauders about an emergency meeting several minutes ago, and no
one had arrived yet! Their absence didn’t help his nervousness, and he considered making this
decision on his own. The other three would kill him for it, of course.

"I'm here, I'm here," Moony's voice reached his ears even before his body
Apparated neatly on the couch. "What's the rush? What happened?"

One of the things James loved about his friends was that no Marauder would ever ask 'is
something wrong?' after receiving such a summons. Remus knew something serious had happened.
Padfoot in all likelihood could guess what it was. And Wormtail—well, Peter didn't look like
much, but he was often more in tune with the other three's feelings than they realised.

"I need help," James stated with a frown. He plopped down beside his friend, who then
rose to make some tea. This talk was bound to need it. "I need help, Remus! Come talk to me,
damn it."

"I'm listening," he called from the kitchen. "Go ahead—or do you want to see
my reaction to what you're about to say?"

James couldn't help smiling. "There's that, too."

"All right. I'll be with you in a minute." He returned, drying his hands with a
cloth, and sat. "Go ahead."

"I'm very, *very* attracted to Lily."

Remus blinked for several seconds, absorbing the news. It came as no real shock, but it was
disturbing to hear James admit it out loud. This could mean two things: either Prongs was about to
do something about it, or he had already done so. Neither scenario was particularly comforting;
Moony sighed.

"Have you slept with her?"

"No."

"When do you plan on doing so?"

"I don't know!" James groaned, burying his face in his hands. "That's
precisely the problem, see? I mean, sometimes she's professional and distant, other times
we're arguing—and then, out of the blue, she starts responding when I hit on her! It's
nothing intense or anything—I'm always joking around; you know me. But then all of a sudden
she's smiling or smirking and it hits me that she's right there and… It's driving me
nuts, and I get the impression that Lily both knows and enjoys that."

"*Accio* kettle," Remus muttered, "*Accio* tea set. And when did this
flirting start? Last I heard, you two were arguing several times a week, and you weren't keen
on being close to her in any way."

"I… have no idea." James frowned, thinking back. "I almost kissed her yesterday,
and I only realised later how much I wanted that to happen. I honestly didn't think things
would work out this way."

"What's stopping you, Prongs? Do you think she will reject you?"

The idea was highly entertaining. Remus didn't remember the last time a girl had rejected
James—not without changing her mind soon afterwards, at least. In fact, he wasn't sure whether
such a thing had ever happened. The man was stubborn to the point of obnoxious, and awfully
determined to get precisely what he wanted.

"Not really." James shrugged. "But we're partners. We had a meeting with
everyone this morning and I realised how much I value that. If anything should happen between us,
it'll distract us from work. Even worse—if something went wrong, she'd leave, and I
can't afford that."

"Well, maybe you should talk about it with Lily."

Prongs gaped at his friend, and out of sheer habit asked, "Do you know *anything*
about women, Moony?"

Remus chuckled and drank a sip of tea. Neither James nor Sirius grew tired of barking the
question at him when seeking his advice about girl trouble. "Not much, but I did date one or
two back at Hogwarts."

"What was I thinking?" James groaned, also not for the first time. "Why do I
always try to discuss this sort of thing with my only gay friend? Merlin's beard, why
haven't you told me to fuck off yet?"

"Well, because men and women aren't that different," Remus repeated once more.
"And because for some reason you guys seem to think I'm balanced and have good
judgement."

"It's the bookish type thing," James gestured vaguely at the flat around them.
"You give off that sensitive guy vibe. Plus, you like cock, so you must think like a girl on
*some* level."

"Right." Remus rolled his eyes. "Anyway, why are you so scared of talking about
this with Lily? She's probably aware of what's going on, and would like to have a say in
this before you throw her against a wall any day now."

"She's going to kill me for considering being with her, that's what. And Lily will
never respect me again for not having the balls to go for it anyway if I really wanted her.
It's not the type of thing guys like me do, Moony."

"Actually, I only see this need for discussion because you seem unsure of your footing. I
haven't seen you like this since you started out with Julia, but let me tell you—it's an
interesting change."

"No, it bloody well isn't," James grunted, reaching for a cuppa. "It's
annoying. I know I can persuade her, but I'm not sure I *want*—"

A loud Apparition noise in the kitchen interrupted him. Sirius opened the door to the living
room munching on a chocolate muffin. "Pwongf!" he greeted when approaching the sofa,
somehow spitting crumbs on both Remus and James.

"Swallow, Padfoot," Remus demanded warily.

He complied, and gave his friends a huge, toothy grin. "Speaking of which, I ran into that
boyfriend of yours at the Ministry today," Sirius commented to Remus with visible glee.
"Did you know he has to wear purple robes for work?"

"He doesn't." Remus smiled. "David just likes to, you know, to tell the world
he's not afraid being different—that sort of thing."

"Ah. Right." Sirius laughed. "That's a pretty brave statement. I never
thought he was that kind of guy. Now, Prongs' problem," he turned to look at the Marauder
in question. "Have you and Lily shagged yet?"

James arched an eyebrow, but wasn't startled. "No."

"Why the hell not?"

"We're partners, Padfoot—and great ones at that. I'm afraid of jeopardising our
professional relationship."

Sirius threw him an incredulous look. "You're *joking*."

"I'm not. What do you mean?"

"Moony," Padfoot announced in a mockingly emotional tone, "our boy's growing
up!" He seized James' shoulders and shook him. "Prongs, you and I both know that
you're just trying to convince yourself, but it won't work. Just get it over and done with,
why don't you? It's not like you'll manage to put it off for long, and it will be on
your mind the whole time."

"I don't know," Remus intervened. "I don't like this one bit. It may lead
to more, and I'm not sure you—or Lily, for that matter—are ready for it."

"I don't want to *date* her, Moony," James replied dismissively.
"It's just… She strives so hard to seem unattainable, and I'm so sure that she's
not, that—"

Remus shook his head. "Why don't you wait a little?"

"*Wait*?" Sirius scoffed. "Do you think she won't notice what he's
thinking about? Even if she hasn't already, which is unlikely, she will soon. Lily's not
Julia! She'll use it against Prongs, and taunt him mercilessly."

"But Prongs has a point, Padfoot. They're working together, and that's far too
valuable."

Sirius rolled his eyes. Before he could say anything, Peter Apparated in the far corner of the
room. "I'm sorry! I couldn't get away earlier. What's going on, guys?"

"Prongs wants to get it on with Lily, and Moony thinks it's a bad idea."

"Why? Because they'll fall in love again?"

"We won't—" James began, but Sirius interrupted him.

"No, because it will affect their relationship at the office."

"Well," Peter pointed out, "they already spend hours arguing and throwing things
at each other, right? Won't it be better for both if they shag instead? The two will be happier
and more willing to go to work."

The other three Marauders contemplated his assertion with wonder. Wormtail had these insane
insights every so often, and it always took them by surprise.

"But later," Remus reminded his friends with a grimace. "What if they continue
this relationship, what then? What if it ends?"

"Good for them! Come on Moony, there's no telling how the relationship may end. Lily
and Prongs can be a little unpredictable once in a blue moon."

James was mildly offended, and punched Padfoot playfully in the chest. Sirius winced and reacted
accordingly. Remus stood between them before the situation got out of hand.

"We've all got to get back to work," he reminded them soberly. "Padfoot,
Wormtail, go to the Ministry—James, to your office. I have to meet Dumbledore in Hogsmeade in a few
minutes."

"Actually, we're not working at the office these days. Mr. Guidot, the French Minister,
is visiting England soon, and we'll spend a couple of weeks stationed in the secure house
hosting him. I signed the contract this afternoon."

Sirius and Peter laughed. Remus threw James an exasperated look. "Are you saying that
you'll spend two weeks with Lily in the same house, twenty-four hours a day?"

James grinned. "Yeah."

"Why on earth did you bother talking to us first?" Remus asked incredulously.
"Merlin, go for it. You'll go crazy if you don't."

.

. .

. . .

*I guess we're back to us*

*So, cameraman, swing the focus*

*In case I lost my trail of thought*

*Where was it that we last left off?*

*(Let's pick up, pick up…)*

**Panic! At the Disco**, "Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her
Clothes Off"

. . .

. .

.

James Apparated to Godric's Hollow in the designated spot for arrivals and, just to be sure,
glanced down to check if he still had all his limbs. Few security systems were set up, and it was
always risky to venture into a property where magic was still fizzing around uncontained.

Thankfully, nothing had happened to him, but the Apparition site was a priority that had to be
finished tonight. The outer side of the property would be the hardest to set up but, with
everyone's dedication and focus, he hoped it would all be ready by Friday morning.

James walked to the front of the house and pushed the door open tentatively. No dangerous
potions drenched him, so it was safe to assume that he could enter.

"Anyone here?" he bellowed, taking a sniff. Thankfully, there was no cat smell
anywhere. No one would be able to bear James sneezing and coughing all day long, least of all
himself.

There was something wrong with the heating. The temperature was several degrees above the
acceptable; James supposed it had something to do with someone's Potions experiment, but made a
mental note to ask his partner about it. He often had to endure freezing cold or boiling heat in
his office due to Marlene's insane ideas.

Lily descended the stairs with her usual quick pace, and grinned happily at him. James surveyed
her appearance with amusement: her hair was tied in an extremely messy knot; she wore an untailored
short-sleeved shirt and jeans. This was hardly the Lily he had gotten used to, but the change was
welcome.

"What do you think?" she asked triumphantly.

"It barely seems like the same place," he admitted. With all of Mrs. Figg's
furniture gone, and the walls repainted, the house was another site altogether. For starters, he
could see clearly out the windows now, instead of just a hazy image clouded in age-old dust.
Naturally, the fact that he was no longer preoccupied with his lungs and throat helped a lot.

"It really doesn't! It's been fun."

"Have you been here all afternoon?"

"Well, I went shopping first, and got here soon after you'd left. I said goodbye to
Mrs. Figg and everything. Oh, she gave me several tips! She also asked when our marriage would take
place."

He shook his head, smiling. Only someone who hadn't spent too much time with the two of them
could assume that they were a couple.

"I told her we hadn't decided yet, but that I'd be sure to send her an invitation.
How was your day?"

"I went to the Ministry—and yeah, like I thought, it looks like we'll have to go to
France, or ask some of their people to come here. They don't want to risk revealing all their
plans via owl, and want to examine ours as well."

"*Great*." Lily rolled her eyes. "Which option do you prefer?"

"I'm not sure. We'll see how much of the house is ready by Thursday."

She nodded.

All of a sudden, James felt that he should tell her about his conversation with the Marauders.
Maybe Remus wasn't entirely wrong to advise him to do so. "I went to Moony's after
that to meet the guys."

"Oh?"

James flashed her a grin. "They're not sure what's taken us so long to, er, get
involved."

Lily raised an eyebrow, surprised by the abrupt change of subject, and then laughed. So James
did, in fact, want their interaction to go beyond teasing; he had even talked to his friends about
it. She wasn't sure how that made her feel, but a decision was necessary and urgent.

In fact, everything depended on how she reacted now. She glanced at him, took a deep breath and
thought as fast and thoroughly as she could.

Lily would have to be barking mad to sleep with James. He was irresponsible, incapable of
serious commitment, heartless and, above all, already had a girlfriend, who happened to be a good
friend of hers.

On the other hand, Lily was not looking for a serious relationship, either; she only wanted to
have some fun. In that case, she had to remember that they worked together. That meant that
whatever they had would affect their jobs and that James would keep hitting on her until he got his
way.

She had to be honest with herself: the idea pleased her. Lily was more than willing to let James
seduce her. Besides, he would do so with or without her permission; what was the point of
resisting?

"I wonder what could have made them think that," Lily said trivially with a smirk. Her
words mattered little; James glanced into her eyes and instantly got the message: she was not
opposed to the idea, but it didn't mean that this would be an easy conquest.

James was fine with that. He tried not to look smug, but didn't succeed.

After a brief pause, Lily decided that it would be safer to discuss work for now. They were,
after all, alone in the house, and there was no telling what James Potter could attempt if his mind
was set on a defined goal. "So, we have to see what we're going to do about the Apparition
spot."

James sighed. It was important to get this stuff out of the way as fast as possible, he knew,
but he was in no mood to argue Strategy. Nevertheless, he replied with resignation, "We could
use a Deflection spell in a close radius, as well as some finely-tuned Dark Arts detectors. Some
precautionary distractions along the way are of course essential."

These were all standard countermeasures; Lily had already thought of every one of them, as well
as some new suggestions for this particular scenario. At the moment, James was bored and sick of
his job—he could think of several better uses for their time.

It wasn't hard for Lily to notice his frame of mind. Not only was James disinclined to
debate tactics—which hardly ever happened—, but he also kept looking at her like a waiting leopard
would an unsuspecting gazelle. It was disturbing.

Lily didn't give up trying. "I'll go upstairs and bring down the blueprint.
We'll *work on this*," she emphasised severely.

James understood the warning. However, when she turned around to go to the second floor, a firm
hand on her shoulder stopped her. He moved a step closer. Caught off guard, Lily hadn't
expected her heart to thump this strongly. He was mere inches away; she could feel the warmth of
his chest almost touching her back, and it was all terribly distracting.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked softly, brushing his lips against
her earlobe. James knew very well how hard it was for her to make sense out of her mind right now.
He could tell that Lily was far more at his mercy than she thought.

He was right to be that confident; she couldn't bring herself to reply sensibly. It would be
so easy to let go right then! James slid his arm around her belly, bringing her nearer to him, and
began nibbling softly on her ear. Lily's feeble defences finished tumbling down. She hadn't
known he could win her over this effortlessly.

"James," she mumbled weakly, mustering what little self-control she had left. It
wasn't much; her tone clearly begged him to continue. "We really should work."

Lily had forgotten what a sadistic prick James could be.

"All right," he agreed, stepping back and letting go of her. James had had no serious
intention to go through with it this time, apparently; he just wanted to prove how uncomplicated it
would be to get what he wanted from her.

Lily's powerlessness had startled her. She couldn't recall the last time a man had
affected her to this point. How had James done it? He hadn't even *tried*. There was only
one possible conclusion: she had already been feeling this way before, and he had somehow noticed
it.

She sighed and accepted his choice. James could drive her insane if he so wished, and would in
all probability enjoy making her as desperate as he presumably was. All she could do was focus on
the job and hope that at some point he decided to do the same.



5. Breathless
-------------

**Hopelessly Addicted**

Chapter 5

**"Breathless"**

.

*Carve your name into my arm*

*Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed*

*'Cause there's nothing else to do*

*Every me and every you...*

**Placebo**, "Every You Every Me"

.

Lily had never been in this situation before. She hadn't known it was possible to be this
agitated while talking about regular mission schemes. James was rambling about different types of
Shielding Charms, but they were both aware of how difficult it was to focus on the matter at hand.
After all, they were leaning over the same desk with the blueprint, and every abrupt movement
caused them to brush against each other.

It was hard to explain what went on in Lily's body once that happened. The tension
accumulated in the past two hours from being with James while trying not to think about him seemed
to fizzle and magnify what little contact the two had had. Her mind was running wild with ideas and
memories of all sorts.

James was in a similar state, if not worse. A mere glance informed Lily of just how keyed up he
felt, but he was pointedly avoiding looking at her. She was thankful for that; his hungry,
unabashed stare wouldn't help matters at all. The fact that he had changed into a wifebeater
was also disquieting. Oh, why didn't he *do* something about this?

"It would make sense to use the Russian variation of the Gallic model. After all, if it
effectively blocks radiation, it'll probably give us a good head start in case we have unwanted
visitors."

"Yeah." Lily sighed, forcing herself to think reasonably. "There's only one
problem: I don't know whether you've ever had to cast one of those, but they're
extremely complex, and it'll take a skilled wizard at least four very tiring hours to complete
it. We can't afford to waste that much time, considering we'll need six big
shields."

"Yes, I know. The one underground is bound to be a headache. But maybe it's worth
it?"

She shrugged. "We could use night shifts."

"That may work."

Then Lily had an idea. It was perfect—it would take her mind most effectively off everything.
They could argue! She only had to provoke him into getting aggravated. That had always been their
favourite pastime, after all.

"*Stop doing this*!" she shrieked suddenly. "Bloody hell, James, can't
you behave normally? It was your decision not to get on with things in the first place, so why
won't you leave me alone?"

He blinked. Her insane outburst had stunned him more than anything. "I'm not doing
anything."

"Oh, *sure* you're not," she growled. "Maybe we should work in separate
rooms or something. We really have a job to do, and you know it's serious."

"Don't you think you're overreacting? I'm not even looking at you!"

Lily could see that her plan was working. Although he didn't want to, James was beginning to
get angry with her. "No, you're not—on *purpose*. You're trying to affect me in
some way, and I'm in no mood to put up with your ruddy mind games."

"Are you bipolar or what?" James exploded at last. "Just half an hour ago you
were nearly begging for it! If I'm aroused and whatnot, Lily, it's your fault, too! You
want it and you know you want it, and why are we even arguing?"

She glowered at him and said nothing, mostly because she could think of no proper answer. He was
right, of course.

"I know we have a job to do, and that's the only reason I'm standing here
discussing Russian charms when my mind is clearly somewhere else. You could at least
*appreciate* the effort." He paused, and continued spitefully, "At least I'm not
breathing heavily and jumping every time our elbows or whatever touch and remind you of what we
*can't* do. I'm trying to think of work; you're not."

"Why won't you just *listen*?" she said through clenched teeth. In a way,
Lily felt truly angry with him for doing this to her. She wasn't used to being entirely
powerless against anyone, let alone an annoying man like him.

In a strange impulse, she took a step forward and, taking James entirely by surprise, dug her
nails deep into his bare arm. His eyes widened as she moved her hand downwards, leaving behind four
red lines with occasional blood beads.

That had been a wrong decision: Lily realised it the moment his startled gaze met hers. Arguing
with her was the last thing on his mind now; her gesture had had completely unforeseen
consequences. Surely she couldn't have forgotten how fond he was of her nails and of the
expertise with which she usually employed them. The unbearable tension that had overwhelmed them
all evening was almost at breaking point when he breathed out, "Don't—do that."

Her phony anger disappeared once she noticed what had happened, and Lily's frown became an
amused smirk. She obediently took a step backwards, and observed his ineffective attempts to calm
down.

"Lily," he said levelly, with remarkable self-control, "see what you can do about
organising those shifts. I'll go and have a quick shower and be back in a minute."

She laughed, clearly feeling no pity. It was almost too easy to drive James out of his mind. No
matter what he said, his sorry shape was always more evident than hers could ever be.

.

*You make me dizzy, running circles in my head*

*One of these days I'll chase you down*

*Well, look who's going crazy now*

*We're face to face, my friend...*

**Foo Fighters**, "Breakout"

.

James turned to leave, but changed his mind before walking away. His friends were right: he had
to do this soon, or else he would start obsessing over Lily. Whether or not he had already gotten
to that point was debatable, but if this hellish anxiety continued, he would be a sad sight before
long.

He faced her. They stood there, ridiculously close yet hesitant, for a moment. Lily felt as
though James was giving her a last opportunity to escape or say no before the situation got out of
control. She did nothing, unable to breathe or think and almost scared of her own excitement.

Abruptly, James' hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, and they were kissing with
unsurprising desperation. Her fingers clutched his neck and ran through his hair, tugging it. Their
bodies pressed against each other, touching in places Lily couldn't single out even if she
wanted to do so.

She bit his lower lip with strength she didn't bother controlling, and let one of her hands
roam James' lower back, scratching him. Within seconds, her blouse, bra and his shirt had
somehow found their way to the other side of the room. Lily wasn't sure the cracking noise
she'd heard after tossing away his glasses meant there would be shards everywhere, but it was
difficult to care.

A part of James' mind couldn't believe he was actually going through with this.
Everything seemed tad surreal; the reckless half-naked woman he was about to shag didn't
resemble his colleague much.

He thought he had forgotten the details of Lily's body, her smell and the way she moved, but
he had not. She had matured, but was still essentially the same teenager whose dorm he used to
sneak into several times a week. All in all, the situation was far too familiar for both of them to
allow any sort of awkwardness. It felt natural to pick up where they had once left off.

James tried to unbutton Lily's pants, failing miserably. After another attempt, he grunted a
curse against her lips. She then realised his predicament and, chuckling, moved a few inches away
from him to do it herself.

"Have I ever mentioned I hate jeans?" he asked with a grin, sitting on the floor.
"They're the most unpractical and uncomfortable type of clothing Muggles have ever
invented."

"Mm-hmm," Lily agreed, kneeling directly in front of James and waiting.

He leaned over and kissed her neck—softly at first, and afterwards with such intensity that it
became hard to pick apart his bites. He then began toying with her breasts, circling her nipples
with the tip of his tongue. Lily reached down to open his pants, and lightly scraped her nails on
his abdomen while doing so.

All of a sudden, James pinned Lily down, holding her arms to the ground far above her head. He
kept his eyes fixed on hers as his hand made its way to her underwear, teasingly stroking her
thighs.

"You know," Lily noted conversationally, "we're not too far from the door,
and people will start arriving soon."

"Yeah."

"We should really—" She stopped talking, gasping as James' fingers reached their
intended destination. He moved with deliberate slowness, fully realising how much that would bother
Lily.

He smirked. "We should what? Not make too much noise? Oh, I agree."

Lily tried not to be too distracted, not to let her eyelids shut of their own accord, not to
allow her body to show him exactly how she felt—to no avail. She knew her legs trembling slightly,
and that he could see it. Her panting increasingly resembled stifled moaning, which wasn't far
from the truth. She wanted to scratch him, yell at him, do *anything* to make James act
faster, but he was in no hurry, and she was immobilised.

.

*From you I cannot hide, and I've lost my will to try*

*Can't hide it; can't fight it*

*So go on, go on, come on—leave me breathless*

*Tempt me, tease me, till I can't deny this loving feeling...*

**The Corrs**, "Breathless"

.

Hours had gone by—or so it seemed to Lily—since they had started. She was about to cry out of
sheer desperation. How had James had the patience and the self-discipline to tease her for so long?
In the back of her mind, she admitted enjoying this helplessness, but on the whole it was an
annoying situation.

"James," she mumbled, trying to soften the merciless look on his face with her
pleading tone, "*please*. We don't even have much time."

"It hasn't been that long," he replied, circling her earlobe with his tongue and
continuing downwards. Lily's fingers quivered as she tried to push away the hand holding her
arms in place, and her back involuntarily arched. She was extremely dizzy by now, and could hardly
control her feverish movements.

James seemed to have decided that she had endured enough. His hands began moving with equal
pressure but much faster, causing Lily to moan softly.

"Ssh, quiet," he commanded her, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "We have to be
able to hear if someone's coming."

"I *can't*!" Lily groaned. How could he expect her to hear anything? She
could hardly pay attention to her own thoughts; there was nothing on her mind other than James,
James' movements and what on *earth* was taking him so long?

She then had an idea and jerked her head as far left as she could. James glanced up in alarm a
second after she bit his arm, forcing him to let go. Why hadn't she thought of it earlier? It
had been so simple! The downside was, of course, that James had pulled back entirely, shifting to
lie beside her.

Lily, however, was no longer in the mood to be passive. She wasn't going to let him play
around with her anymore; this powerlessness was downright aggravating. She grabbed his hair and
yanked his head, practically forcing his lips down on hers.

He didn't mind the change of rhythm. James intended on continuing now—he needed it as badly
as she did—, and he would've done so, too, if a voice outside hadn't called out right then,
"Anyone here?"

Lily let out a frustrated growl and tightened her grasp on his hair. "No," she said
firmly. "*No*. You have to finish it, James, you can't..."

James knew Lily wasn't thinking properly—if at all. They had to disappear, and fast.
"Amelia's here! She'll enter any time now." He left her on the floor and ran to
fetch all their clothes, clutching them in a crumpled heap. "Come, Lily."

She stood and, holding on to his arm for support, ran up the stairs seconds before their work
colleague opened the door to the living room.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, meaning it.

Lily nodded.

James leaned forward and kissed her softly. "We'll finish this later; I
promise."

She sighed, and grinned. In all likelihood, there would be no time or opportunity to do so
tonight, and they were both aware of it. "You should take that shower now. I'll get
dressed and meet the girls downstairs."

"Will you be okay?"

Lily laughed. "I'll live. Don't worry."

"I'll meet you downstairs in a few."

.

*Nothing much to say, I guess*

*You're just the same as all the rest*

*Been trying to throw your arms around the world*

*And a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle...*

**U2**, "Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World"

.

Amelia glanced around the living room. With the exception of James' desk, which he had
brought from the office earlier that day, it was empty. Dorcas would have a blast choosing the
dŽcor but, knowing the conscientious Chief Aurors in charge, it was safe to assume that most of it
would not be her choice.

Lily and James had achieved an interesting balance between rigid control and open-mindedness.
They allowed their team a reasonable amount of freethinking, but it would be inconceivable for
Amelia, Dorcas or Marlene to let an idea develop far too much without checking in with the pair.
After all, the girls' job was to come up with spells, potions and other creative solutions to
aid the strategists.

Most Aurors loved missions and danger, but not Amelia Bones. She had chosen this office for
precisely that reason: they rarely went into the field, and only on high-risk and therefore
volunteer-only scenarios. Being behind a desk was what suited her temper the most, especially
considering that she had someone else to think of before needlessly endangering her life: her
one-year-old son, Daniel.

Thinking of the boy invariably brought a smile to her face. He was just beginning to form his
first few words and sentences, and... Oh, she missed him already! Her brother Edgar had agreed to
take care of Daniel for the rest of the week, but Amelia would do her best to sneak out of
Godric's Hollow for a brief visit.

Within seconds, her mind drifted back to Fabian Prewett. It was expected; she'd grown used
to it, after all these years. Thankfully, she was stronger now, and no longer as visibly
heartbroken as she once had been. Oh, of course Amelia still jumped from time to time when
overhearing his name, and obsessively avoided running into him anywhere.

"Hey!" a cheerful voice greeted her from the staircase. Amelia turned to face Lily,
and was surprised to see a woman that hardly resembled the tidy, classy Chief Auror. This Lily
Evans was disheveled, sweaty and wearing clothes with which she wouldn't be caught dead in on a
regular weekday.

"The place is great," Amelia remarked with a smile, actually anticipating the task
ahead of them. "I can't wait to start!"

"James and I think we'll need a Russian Shielding Charm. Have you ever done one of
those?"

She made a face. "Yes. It's quite possibly the most obnoxious spell I've ever had
the displeasure to learn, but it's reliable. Good thinking!"

"I've started some of the basic protections in the yard, but I think that should be our
greatest concern at the moment: both shields and concealments, taking advantage of the fact that
it's already dark."

"You're right. I guess we're looking at two all-nighters each, right?"

"At the very least! Well, I think most of us can manage to cast the shield alone. The
amount of wizards doing it makes little difference, as you know—the main problem is time, which we
don't have. We'll come up with some shift plans."

"Is James coming soon?"

"Yeah, he's upstairs."

"What should we do now? Have you finished drawing the scenario?"

"No, we haven't." Lily sighed. "Let's go and take a look at the
yard."

They went outside. The chilly evening wind caused her to shiver and rub her arms. When had the
weather got this cold? Lily then remembered that James had mentioned something about the heating
being awry; she hadn't noticed, but it had probably something to do with the preparation spells
she'd cast on windows earlier that day.

"We could use the trees," Amelia suggested, pointing to the tall vegetation
surrounding the property.

Lily nodded. "We were thinking of putting some regular detection spells around the place,
but surveillance will have to be our main goal. There's a control room in the house from which
we'll see everything that happens in and around it."

"Do you think we'll have time to finish everything by Friday?"

"Thursday, actually," Lily corrected her, and shrugged. "We have to, so we
will."

.

*I might take you home*

*We might make out when nobody's there*

*It's not that we're scared*

*It's just that it's delicate...*

**Damien Rice**, "Delicate"

.

Lily stumbled in the room, searching for her pyjamas and sheets to cover the bed. It was almost
six in the morning, and she was absolutely drained after having spent hours reinforcing every wall
in the second floor. She grabbed the first long T-shirt she saw—it happened to be one of
James'—and sloppily threw one sheet from the pile unfolded on the bed.

Dumbledore had been kind to lend them some spare furniture. All Hogwarts beds felt familiar and
blissfully comfortable; Lily's eyelids shut of their own accord the moment her back touched the
mattress, and she fell asleep.

Lily had no idea of how long she'd slept until James entered. She woke up with a jolt when
he accidentally let the door slam. The windows were wide open, sunlight flooded the place, and she
buried her face in the pillow.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said, taking off his shirt. "Go back to
sleep."

"Your bag is over there," she mumbled, pointing to a corner. "Did you finish
it?"

"Almost." James' voice betrayed his exhaustion, and he continued debating work
with her out of sheer habit, barely thinking before talking. "All the windows downstairs are
done, and most of the walls. Do you think we need to worry about the floor, too, considering
we'll cover the ground underneath it later?"

"It wouldn't hurt. Would you mind closing the curtains?"

He grinned, changing into sweatpants. "There are no curtains."

"Oh. Can you conjure some?"

James muttered a spell and a milky-white sheet covered the window, blocking out the light. She
yawned, and gathered up the courage to open her eyes and face him. She only then realised that they
weren't, in fact, supposed to be staying in the same room. "Why are you sleeping
here?"

"Well," he pointed out amusedly, "all my stuff is here. You just happen to be on
my bed, for reasons I can't quite fathom, but I'm not complaining. Why? Do you
mind?"

"Of course not. I'm sorry; I thought I'd chosen this room for me."

"I said it's all right. How are things outside?" James called out from the
bathroom.

"The preliminary's stuff's all done, and I've begun Transfiguring the tree
leaves and casting the surveillance charms on the fence."

Despite the toothpaste in his mouth, Lily thought she heard James ask something that vaguely
resembled, "Did you tell Amelia to water everything with the Drought of the Living Dead?"
and replied, "Yeah. Did you figure out what was wrong with the heat?"

"Ah, that spell of yours was preventing not only images and sound but also heat waves from
leaving through the glass windows. It's fixed now." He lay beside her, groaning. "I
can't believe I'm actually going to *sleep*."

She smiled. "I have to get up soon. Do you know what time it is?"

"It's eight, or almost that."

"Okay. Good night, James."

Instead of sleeping, he turned to gaze at her pensively. Lily shifted uneasily for a moment
before following suit, examining his face with a puzzled frown.

"What's the matter?"

"Why were you avoiding me today?"

She blinked. "I wasn't—"

"Yes, you were. You were working outside all night, and used Amelia to send me messages.
You could've come just as easily, and it would've spared her the trouble."

"You could've come talk to me, too, but you sent Dorcas."

"Well, I didn't know what was wrong."

Lily rolled her eyes. "What did you think was wrong?"

"You didn't want to be reminded of what happened last night, obviously, but I
wasn't sure why: do you regret having done it, or not having finished it?"

"A bit of both, I suppose, but—" she sighed, "I guess it was bound to happen at
some point, even though I didn't really see it coming."

"Okay, so you wanted to avoid me because you were afraid I was going to assault you or
something?" He grinned. "Ah, no, you knew I *wasn't* going to do it, and that
was the problem. I see."

Lily chuckled, and said nothing. James knew he was right, and there was no point in feeding his
ego even more. His presence would've been an unwelcome distraction, considering the amount of
work she had set out to do that evening. In a way, she did feel remorse for having started this
insane, aimless and potentially disastrous liaison.

"Oh, no, no, don't start thinking about it now," he warned her, guessing her trail
of thought. "I've done all the reasoning, and believe me, it leads to nowhere fun. Plus,
we both know it's inevitable, so why bother? We just need to find some free time when we're
not this knocked out."

"How can you be this self-assured? I could very well change my mind."

"But you're not going to," he shrugged. "I saw how you were last night, Lily.
Either your boyfriend's been doing a terrible job for months or you've given me more
thought than you care to admit. In any case—"

Lily felt a sudden surge of frustration. How could he be so nonchalant about this? He just
assumed she'd be willing to do whatever he wanted, whenever he felt like he had time to
spare!

"Look, I—"

He put a finger on her lips and moved his head a bit down to level with hers. "I'm sure
this upsets you. Hell, it upsets me too, for similar reasons; it helps remind me that I'm still
vulnerable, human and a shitty boyfriend for being so willing to cheat on Julia. But we're both
really, really tired. We can debate this for hours, and we'll never reach an ethical agreement
of any sort. We're wrong and fucked up, we know it, and that doesn't change a
thing."

Lily threw him a contemplative look. "When did you get this cynical?"

"I didn't. I'm just..." James sighed, turned belly-up and slid his arm under
her head, pulling her towards him. Lily soon found herself lying snugly on the chest of her
sleeping partner.

She lightly scraped his chest with her index finger, mulling over what James had said. It was
useless to lie to herself: Lily had to accept the starting point that she did want to be with
James, at least for the time being. With that established, there wasn't much more to discuss.
They were both obstinate enough not to give up on the idea. It was, like James had said, just a
matter of time.

.

*Like any hot-blooded woman*

*I have simply wanted an object to crave*

*But you, you're not allowed*

*You're uninvited—an unfortunate slight...*

**Alanis Morissette**, "Uninvited"

.

Lily hadn't felt herself drift off. She did, however, realise that doing so had been a bad
idea when a barely conscious part of her noticed Amelia opening the door to find her two bosses
lying together, half-naked. Startled, the Auror recoiled to stand outside, well out of the
couple's line of sight.

"Lily?" she called in a audibly embarassed tone. "It's almost time for your
shift."

Lily sat up immediately in alarm, cursing herself for forgetting to lock the door. Oh, bugger
that—she shouldn't have slept with James when surrounded by their colleagues, period! What sort
of message would this send? People would assume that the two had been involved all along, and it
wouldn't take long for the rumours to spread.

A nagging tingle in the back of Lily's head reminded her that stories would have surfaced at
some point anyway. Now at least she would know where they came from.

"I'll be there in a minute," she replied, glancing at James. He remained asleep,
unaware of the situation. It was useless to wake him, of course, so she began searching for
suitable clothes. After settling for oversized wizard robes—if only James weren't several
inches taller, this would've been so much easier—, she snuck out of the room.

There was an empty room twenty feet away: empty, that is, except for the bare bed and the
backpack in which Lily had brought her things. She credited the previous night's dimness to the
lack of sleep, and swore to herself not to make that sort of mistake again any time soon.

Several minutes later, Lily descended the stairs to find Amelia still awake, sitting on the
floor by the nearest window.

"Good morning, Lily," she greeted, clearly having decided that not mentioning a thing
was the safest course of action. "I've finished shielding the back of the house, as per
your instructions, but daylight caught me off guard; I didn't have time to wrap up the leaves
thing. Dorcas did the front, and just went to sleep."

"Don't worry; I'll see what I can do."

"All right. I'm off to bed, then."

Lily shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, thinking fast. Was it better to talk to
her about it now, before she had the chance to tell anyone else?

Despite working with Amelia, Dorcas and Marlene on a daily basis, Lily didn't know them
beyond superficial office interaction. It was one of the downsides of working with James: he
demanded that so much of her energy that she had little or no time to focus on the other team
members.

It was probably safer to say something. "Listen, Amelia, about what you saw—"

"It's none of my business," she hurried to reply. "You guys are on the same
level, so no one can argue coercion, promotion hunger or anything. It's really none of my
business."

"Well, yes, but it may interfere with the team's balance, don't you think? That can
sort of makes it everyone's concern."

Amelia sobered up, and examined Lily's face attentively for a moment. She then asked,
"How long has this been going on?"

"It... hasn't. It was just a crazy thing that happened last night."

"*Right*."

Her incredulous tone surprised Lily. "I'm serious."

"All this time, you weren't—not once?"

"No!"

Amelia was taken aback. Like the rest of the team, she had assumed, in a somewhat vague and
theoretical way, that the two Chief Aurors had been involved for the past weeks. If they
hadn't, it was long overdue, and no evil could come from that.

"Oh," Amelia said. "I guess all I can say is...it took you long enough. I
don't think any of the girls will mind, believe me."

"You all thought we were having an affair? Why?"

She smiled apologetically. "It seemed logical! You two argue over every little thing, and
in the morning often act like nothing's wrong... You stay in the office together every night,
and get significantly less work done during that time than in the afternoon... I don't know.
You give off that vibe, you know?"

Lily shook her head, baffled. She was now sure that she should have spent more time talking to
her team. "Have you guys talked about this to anyone else?"

"Sure! It's the biggest gossip at the Ministry at the moment. They've got ongoing
bets and everything."

The Chief Auror's eyes widened in shock. Her mind reeled with the most relevant implication
of that fact: it wouldn't be long before Julia found out. Cringing inwardly, she kneeled on the
floor.

"Relax!" Amelia raised an eyebrow. "I was joking. Of course no one knows; we
don't have much contact with Ministry Aurors to begin with, and we know both of you have other
relationships to worry about. I can't be sure no rumours whatsoever have leaked—you know how
these things are—but I'm pretty certain that you're safe for now."

"And we hadn't even done anything," Lily mused disbelievingly. "I don't
want to think of what can happen now that there's actually some truth in all that."

"Why don't you break up with your boyfriend? What's his name again?"

"Alain—Alain Delacour." She rubbed her temples with a sigh: even talking about him
nowadays irritated her, despite the fact that they hadn't spoken in days. Lily couldn't
bear the thought of Alain when her mind would much rather be occupied with the likes of James
Potter. "I don't know. I've been considering that; not because of James, of course.
Alain just belongs to this whole other world, another phase in my life, and I feel like I'm
past it already."

"You two have been together for about two years, right?"

Lily nodded.

"Do you love him?"

"I guess...not, probably, but I had long since decided to get married to him. He's a
great guy."

"Oh, don't do that to yourself." Amelia grimaced. "It's bloody torture
after a short while."

She was evidently speaking from experience, and Lily's interest was piqued. "Why do you
say that?"

"I was married to this Muggle a few years ago. It was fine at first, but I simply
didn't like him enough. Soon even the friendship wears out, if not much was there to begin
with, and everything becomes unbearable."

"But why did you do it?"

"I—" Amelia hesitated, flustered, and wondered whether it was wise to open up to Lily,
who, all things considered, was little more than a stranger. "Do you remember Fabian
Prewett?"

"Of course. You used to date him, right?"

"Yeah. We lived together throughout Auror training, despite his father's objections—Mr.
Prewett had something against my father, who had already died at that point. We were engaged and
everything, but the old man managed to pull some strings and convince all the Chief Aurors not to
hire me once I graduated."

"I remember he was a major big-shot a while ago--Head of Internal Affairs, wasn't
he?"

"Exactly. He was a great politician. Aurors shouldn't be allowed to do politics,"
Amelia scowled. "It's got nothing to do with our profession. But that's just wishful
thinking— anyway, the truth was that he did all that he could to prevent Fabian from staying with
me, but didn't succeed."

She ran her fingers through her hair and bit her lower lip, presumably to keep from crying.

"And then he was killed. Fabian, being the sentimental fool I'd always known him to be,
felt guilty for countering his dead father's wishes and dumped me. I got married to whoever a
year later, and divorced not long afterwards."

"Is Daniel your ex-husband's son?"

"He thinks he is." Amelia chuckled giddily all of a sudden, much to Lily's
surprise. "Merlin, I don't even know why I'm telling you all this... Listen, don't
tell a soul, all right? Few people know, and I definitely can't risk Fabian finding out anytime
soon."

Lily nodded.

"So... Why did we start talking about this again? Ah, right, your French guy. Don't be
daft, Lily: James and London are far more interesting, and this is where you belong. You seem even
happier now than you did when you first got here—although that may have something to do with
James."

"It doesn't."

Amelia smiled, not entirely sure whether she could trust Lily on this. "All right, then.
I'm going to sleep; I'm beat. Good night!"

.

*Some girls are all about it*

*Some girls, they love to let it fly*

*Some girls, no doubt about it*

*Some girls are born to make you cry...*

**Aerosmith**, "Girls of Summer"

.

It was soon past midnight again. Lily had spent the entire day working around the house, while
James went out from time to time to run errands. All sorts of annoying problems had come up: he had
been called to testify in a Wizengamot trial the following day, the French Ministry had sent over
detailed instructions that conflicted with the original plan in every single aspect, Amelia's
son had come down with a bad cold and she'd had to go home...

Just for a change, Lily felt rather tired. Her wrist ached from all the swish-and-flick, and her
head swam with the odours from the cauldrons surrounding her. Before casting the shielding
spell—which would take her the best part of six hours, in all likelihood—, Lily decided to look for
James. He'd taken the graveyard shift that night as well, and was in charge of shielding the
top of the house.

She found him in the backyard, furiously writing on a scrap of paper and oblivious to her
presence.

"Who's avoiding whom now?" Lily joked with a smile, sitting beside him.

James scoffed. "I had things to do! Why on earth would I avoid you anyway? It's not
like I'm even trying." He pulled her into his lap with a goofy grin. "See? Not
trying."

She brought her hand forward to stop them from being too close—a clear sign that she intended on
talking, and nothing more. "How was your day?"

"It was...boring. Come here," he commanded, lifting her chin and kissing her despite
knowing that she seemed not to want it. Naturally, the pleasant warmth of his body was welcoming,
and she had been deprived of such contact since the previous night; Lily was tempted to put off
work for a while longer. Following a pattern that was beginning to feel all too familiar, she clung
to his neck and surrendered to his wishes, pushing James to lie beneath her.

"We seem to have this thing with places where we're likely to get caught," he
noted. It was an observation Lily could have analysed with some seriousness, had it not been
mumbled in her ear in a manner that indicated without a doubt that the fact pleased James
immensely.

His lips moved fast, and she lazily threw her head to the side as he made his way down her neck
to bite her shoulder with surprising intensity. For a few hazy minutes, neither was sure of what
transpired, lost in a tangled confusion of bites, gropes and almost overly aggressive kisses—if
such a thing were even possible.

Lily knew she had felt distinctively angry with him at some point: frustrated for having let
herself get to this point, but even more furious at him for somehow convincing her to do so. She
didn't know where the rage had come from, nor did she give it any thought; Lily was happy to
take it out on him, and James would likely need to see a Healer the following day to prevent any
scarring.

"Stop," she blurted out all of a sudden, her tone inferring earnestness. James could
not, therefore, ignore her protest as he normally would, had it been a half-hearted gasp. He froze
at once, and waited. "This—this is crazy."

This wasn't the adequate time for Lily to go through a crisis of conscience. Women, James
grumbled inwardly, were far too complicated and annoying. He said nothing, preparing himself for
the diatribe that was bound to follow. It would probably have the mood-killer effect of an ice-cold
water spell.

"We have a lot to do," she said, sitting up and nervously tucking some of her
disarrayed hair behind her ear. Lily had to remind herself that she was doing the right thing, the
responsible thing. The forlorn look in James' eyes would not weaken her resolve. "We
can't just choose to put it all aside and shag in the backyard!"

"It doesn't have to take long; what difference can a few minutes make?"

"We both know we only have until dawn. It's hardly enough time as it is."

She had a point, and James was forced to acknowledge it, despite his every instinct begging him
to do otherwise. He could still pull her back to him and change her mind, of course, and that made
the situation even worse for him. Lily was ultimately compelling him to make the correct decision;
there was no other viable option.

Not for the first—or last—time, Lily cursed herself for getting involved with the one man with
whom she worked on a daily basis. What would happen if this liaison of theirs, whatever it was,
went on for some time? Soon pressing responsibilities wouldn't hold them down with this
effectiveness; the situation was difficult enough as it was.

"All right," James breathed out, taking the hand she'd offered for support and
pushing himself to an upright position. "I should get flying and start the charm, I guess, and
you need to begin the underground one. I'm sure there's a top-bottom joke in there
somewhere, but—"

Lily raised an eyebrow. They grinned.

"I'll see you later."

.

.

**A/N** Oh, *headdesk* I keep forgetting to update this fic here. You guys should check out
unknowableroom dot org, seriously, it's got, like, five new chapters. Anyway, I'll update
them here soon, promise :)



