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      Dear Lily,
      Here's the letter I promised you! I know it's been a couple of weeks and I am so sorry I couldn't write earlier, but it's been absolutely impossible to find any free time since we arrived. There are so many people to meet, and so many places to see! I do wish you were here, you'd love it. Boston is such a fantastic city!
      I suppose I should start at the beginning. The Portkey trip was absolutely awful, it left me feeling nauseous for hours. You'd think they'd find some way to make it more comfortable, given how much it costs! Thankfully, I didn't suffer too much from Keylag, but Mum felt terrible for two days. When we arrived, a bloke from the Academy met us at the Keyport and took us to the lodgings that had been arranged for us. We spent the day resting.
      The next day, the same bloke came to accompany us to the Academy. It is so beautiful, and absolutely huge. The main observation tower has thirty seven floors! There are telescopes as tall as I am, and the planetarium is as large as the Great Hall. Mum and I probably looked like idiots gaping at it all, which I suppose didn't make the best impression, but the place is absolutely amazing. Our guide was an extremely friendly research assistant who kept stopping in front of every single building to tell us about its history. All the people I've met are so polite and helpful! Everything in America feels different than home, but that struck me the most.
      They called me in for the interview after the tour. I was a bit nervous, but it went very well! The professor who interviewed me told me he had been very impressed with my statement of purpose. All those hours we spent on it must have paid off, eh?
      You can probably tell by now that I've decided to enter the Academy. You know that I wasn't sure about living so far from home, but it looks like studying here will be an amazing experience. The school is fantastic, and Boston is even more so. There are so many different kinds of people here that us witches don't stand out at all among the Muggles!
      The only snag is that it doesn't look like I'll be able to return to England for the rest of the hols. When they let me know after the interview that I'd been accepted, one of the professors asked me if I'd be willing to help him with his research for the next few weeks. Apparently his assistant lost his mother and had to leave abruptly. And you won't believe this, but the professor was Augustus Threnody! Do you remember him? We studied his Theory of Comets for our OWLs! He's practically a celebrity. Of course, I told him I'd love to help.
      I miss you very much already! Maybe you can come to visit me here, I'm dying to show this place to you.
      I'm afraid I won't have time to write for a few days after this. Since I was planning to return home before the start of the academic year I didn't bring much with me, so Mum and I are going to go shopping for clothes before she leaves on Tuesday. We also have to find a flat for me and move in, but of course, clothes take precedence!
      Can you please forward this letter to Dad and tell him I'm going to write him a very long one after Mum leaves? Also, please ask him to meet Mum at the Keyport at noon on Tuesday. If the trip makes her feel as bad as it did when we arrived here she won't be in any state to Apparate home.
       I really wish you were here!
       Love,
       Helen
P.S. They have one of those phone things you told me about at the Academy! It looks very old but they told me it works, so we can talk to each other! The number on it is 78120445.

Being the Ministry's liaison to Azkaban wasn't particularly interesting or glamorous, but it had practically fallen into her lap when she had become resolved to take the first job that came along so that she could move out of Helen's and support herself. Apparently, there had been very few applicants after the previous liaison's retirement because nobody was that eager for a job that involved travelling every day to Azkaban to collect and deliver classified reports. Thankfully, it paid a little more than most other Ministry positions open to a wizard who had just finished Hogwarts, both because it was unpopular and because it involved a lot of work. Besides going to Azkaban every morning, Lily also had to supervise deliveries of food and other supplies to the prison, compile and file the daily reports and pass along those that required attention elsewhere, and send a short but polite notification to the families of the deceased prisoners, filling the names into the appropriate blanks on the printed letters. The thrill of handling classified information had long since worn off; the security reports were dull as bricks since escape attempts and mutinous prisoners were uncommon at Azkaban.

James had been furious when she had told him she had taken the job. Lily thought he was being rather silly; she travelled to Azkaban by a Portkey which deposited her straight in the warden's office and only stayed long enough to collect the reports and sign some forms. The warden was always polite and professional and she was not required to go into the areas Dementors patrolled. Bits of her soul were not getting sucked out every time she went to the prison, at least not literally. However, James kept starting up fights, insisting that he could give her all the money that she wanted, that she could live with him instead of in the tiny place she had rented, and that she was too good for the job. Lily had been quite disappointed at his failure to support her. Yes, the job wasn't that challenging or exciting. It certainly wasn't anything like she'd have dreamed of, but she had felt rather proud when she had rented the small flat in a Muggle building near the Leaky Cauldron with her own hard-earned money. Yet, James had looked around the two small rooms with disdain, not seeming to understand why she couldn't very well live in an opulent mansion like he was doing. She had started almost dreading seeing him because of the reproachful expression his face constantly seemed to sport.

After she was done for the day, she Apparated home and took a quick shower. James had owled her earlier to ask her to meet him at Diagon Alley in the evening. After she had washed and dried her hair, she checked her watch and seeing that she still had some time, decided to walk to the rendezvous.

The streets of Muggle London were crowded with people returning home from work, bundled up against the September chill. Lily idly glanced around as she walked. Halfway between her house and the Leaky Cauldron was a small Catholic church with a pretty light blue facade. On a whim, she climbed the few steps leading to the door and entered. The interior was cool and quiet. Lily breathed in the musty air and sat down in a wooden pew, letting her eyes linger for a long while over a carving of the Madonna cradling her child.

Churches had always reminded Lily of her mother. The latter had been a devout Catholic, unlike Lily's English father. If she closed her eyes, Lily could almost see her mum, kneeling in one of the pews, red-haired head bent over her hands, praying softly in that lilting Irish accent of hers. Lily sighed. Her mother was gone. It seemed to her all of a sudden as if everybody was abandoning her. Her parents, Petunia, and now Helen... Lily was very happy for Helen, but she couldn't help feeling a little envious of her and she also missed her terribly. The people from their year at Hogwarts had scattered to every corner of the country, and Lily and Helen hadn't been as close with the other girls in their dormitory as James was to his friends. Petunia, she hadn't seen for over a year. Lily thought that she could perhaps write a letter to Petunia to tell her about things; about her job, the apartment and James. Petunia might even read it if she was having a good day. There really was no sense in being estranged from the only family she had left, even though thinking of Petunia still made Lily bitter and angry. Resolved to write the letter as soon as she returned home, Lily got off the pew and made her way to Diagon Alley by way of the Leaky Cauldron.

James was waiting for her in front of Florean Fortescue's when she arrived and greeted her with an enthusiastic hug that lifted her off her feet. "What's going on?" she exclaimed, laughing breathlessly as he set her down.

"Have I got some news for you! But first," he gestured with a flourish towards the door of Fortescue's, "sundaes."

When they had both settled down with their favourite sugary confections and Lily couldn't contain her impatience any longer, James finally tossed an envelope onto the table.

"What's this?"

"That there is the best offer anyone's ever made me."

"What, you mean somebody is prepared to pay you a lot of money so that you can sit around with Sirius all day thinking up innovative ways to create chaos and mayhem?"

James regarded her sadly. "Obviously, I'm not in love you because of your sense of humour," he muttered. "You've ruined my grandiose announcement."

"That's too bad," Lily said, licking her spoon. "I'd stop and mourn for it, but I'm eating, you see."

"Please stop!" James exclaimed, wincing exaggeratedly, then bit into a piece of caramel. "It's Quidditch," he continued through a mouthful. "The Barcelona Bulls want to make me their reserve Chaser."

"The Barcelona Bulls? Aren't they a famous team?"

"They've won the European Cup twice in the past five years! And they want me!"

"But -- but they're Spanish. How do they even know about you?"

"It says in the letter that they send their people to watch the matches at all the European schools. But come on, aren't you happy for me? One of the best teams in Europe wants me!"

Lily merely stared at the envelope, feeling a sense of dread creep up her throat. "Are you -- you're not going to accept?"

James paused in the middle of raising his spoon to his mouth. Sitting up straighter, he put the utensil back down and turned a sombre gaze on her. "Why not?"

Because that would mean you leave. "Well," Lily said, brow furrowed, fishing for an excuse. "I mean Quidditch, well, it's not really even a proper job, is it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Think about it. Yes, you'll play for some years and have a great time, and then what? Eventually you'll get too fat or too slow and they'll kick you out. Then you'll be too old or not experienced enough for a new job. Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll become a trainer so that you can make sure other young men spend their adulthood pining for their glory days of Quidditch."

James was staring at her incredulously. "Are you mad? There's nothing wrong with being a trainer! It's certainly better than your stupid soul-sucking job. It'd be fun, and I think I'd be good at it, too."

"Oh yes, because we both know discipline is one of your strong points," Lily snapped, angered by his disparaging remark and thinking of him in Spain, a sports star, light years away.

"You do remember that I was Head Boy?"

"And a right fine one at that, sneaking out at all hours, playing pranks--"

"Sweet Merlin," James said abruptly. He took a handful of silver coins and put them down on the table with a vicious clink that made her jump, then got off his seat.

"Where are you going?" Lily demanded.

"I don't want to sit here and listen to you talking rubbish!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just say it, Lily?" he retorted. People were starting to stare at them, but he didn't seem to care. "I'll never be good enough for you, will I?" he asked, bitterness roiling behind hazel eyes. "I've turned myself inside out for you, I've tried to make myself a decent bloke, I've told you a million times how much I love you, but it doesn't make any difference."

"No, James, that's not what I meant!"

But James was already striding away. Cursing, Lily tried to get out from between the table and her chair but in her haste knocked her sundae over so that most of it ended up on her skirt. "James, wait!" She grabbed a napkin and rushed to follow him, but just then, the whole street shook with a deafening blast.

When Lily's ears had stopped ringing, she tried to focus on the chaotic scene in front of her. The blast had been a huge explosion that had blown off most of Wilkinson's Wonderful Wines. Panicked people were running everywhere, screaming and crying, some Apparating with loud pops that added to the din. James was back at her side, gripping her elbow. Lily stared uncomprehending at a pink, reddened object that had landed on the ground near her and almost threw up when she realised it was somebody's hand. Petrified, she watched as four men dressed in black appeared across the street, shooting curses. With masks covering their faces, they looked almost inhuman. One of them shot at a woman who went down, writhing in pain. "Oh God, James," Lily muttered, fumbling in her pockets for her wand. "We should help, do something--"

"No, Lily, we have to go." James pulled at her arm, trying to get her away. "Come on!" She turned to speak to him, but his face was suddenly illuminated by a sickly green light. She whirled around. Overhead, a ghostly green skull hung in the air over the wrecked, burning building, empty eye sockets seeming to glare at her, a serpent slithering out from the mouth. "Lily, they're Death Eaters, come on," James insisted, just as the men Disapparated. Finally yielding, Lily let James pull her away. However, someone bumped into her just then and she fell, hitting her head hard on the edge of a table. Pain blossomed on the back of her skull. The next thing she knew, James was half-supporting, half-dragging her through the clamouring crowds at the Leaky Cauldron. "My flat," she managed to choke out, "it's close."

"I know, I know. How's your head? Maybe I should take you to St. Mungo's."

Lily thought of the stark antiseptic hospital smell and nearly retched. "No," she said, grimacing. "I'll be all right if I can just sit down." The pain had already lessened, she would most likely be left with an impressive bump but no other damage. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, hanging onto James' arm, until they had arrived at her flat. James didn't even bother asking her for the keys and unlocked the door with a whispered Alohomora. Lily stumbled inside and collapsed onto the sofa.

"We should set up some Security Charms," he murmured, gently probing the bruised area on the back of her head. "Do you realise any wizard could just walk in?"

"Stop it, I'm fine." She dropped her face into her hands, shaking. "God, I was so scared," she whispered. "All the screaming and noise..." She felt James' hand on her back, a reassuring warmth through her clothes. "I saw the Death Eater who cursed that woman, I could have stopped him, I could have done something--"

"That would have been stupid. One of them might have recognised you and known that you are a Muggle-born."

Lily sniffled and sat up straight, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. "Maybe," she muttered. "I'd probably have just stood there, anyway. I kept looking for my wand, but I couldn't find it, and I don't think I could even have held it straight." She chuckled bitterly. "Looks like I'm not as brave as the Sorting Hat thought."

"Bollocks. You were in shock, that's all."

She rested her head on the back of the sofa and looked up at him. In all the chaos, his hair had become even wilder than usual, and his right sleeve was covered in ash. "Why?" she asked, her voice breaking. She could still taste bile at the back of her throat, and hear the crackling of the flames. "Why would anyone do this?"

"Wilkinson was Muggle-born," James answered. "Or maybe it was his wife, I can't remember. Death Eaters have never attacked Diagon Alley before this but it was only a matter of time, I reckon. Mum and Dad keep sending them to Azkaban, but more and more people are starting to listen to Voldemort's drivel."

They sat in silence for a long time, holding hands. The bare walls of Lily's tiny living room seemed bleak and morose. After a while, Lily couldn't stand it anymore. "Well, I can say that wasn't one of our most successful dates," she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. She realised her mistake when James' face hardened and his fingers slid out of her grasp.

"Yeah, it really wasn't," he said. "You know, I'm very tired. I think I'm going to go home and have a nap."

"Oh James, don't go. You can have a nap here." She tried desperately to think of a convincing pretext. "We can cast the Security Charms together after you wake up."

He stayed where he was for a couple of moments, lips thinned with obvious anger, then wordlessly stalked off into her bedroom. She heard him throw himself on the bed and got up to go into the bathroom. As she splashed some water on her face, her thoughts kept going back to the day's terrible events. She was still feeling shaken from the attack. However, she couldn't deny that the twisted, icy feeling in her stomach was partly due to her argument with James. She glanced at herself in the mirror; it reflected a ghostly figure with reddened eyes. Her hair was lying limp around her shoulders, lacking its usual lustre. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed beside James, but she knew she could never sleep knowing that he was angry at her, that she had hurt him with her words.

When she looked in from the doorway, James was lying down, facing away from her. From the rigid set of his shoulders, she could tell that he wasn't asleep. She slowly walked towards him and sat on the edge of the bed, then hesitated when he didn't turn to face her. "I'm sorry," she murmured finally, staring at her hands. "About earlier, I mean. I was very unfair." She waited for him to react but he stayed silent. "Of course I don't think you were a bad Head Boy, you know that." Again, she failed to elicit a reaction. "And what I said about Quidditch was wrong! You've always been such a brilliant player, and it's fantastic that they want you. You'll be -- I'm sure that you'll have a wonderful time in Spain. I've always heard that it's a great country." She paused, hoping her voice wouldn't break, then touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

James pulled himself up into a sitting position. He was half leaning against the wall, and when he looked at her, his eyes were large and dark in the dim evening light.

"It absolutely is not true that you're not good enough for me, it isn't!" she babbled, unnerved. He distractedly ran the fingers of one hand into his hair. Her breath caught. "Of course you're good enough, I -- here, I can--" She leaned forward and kissed his mouth, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Lily--" he gasped, but she hushed him, concentrating on the buttons. When his shirt was open all the way, her courage ran out and she sat back, not daring to meet his eyes. Finally, after an eternity during which she thought she would die, he reached out with trembling fingers, and gathered her in.

*

When Lily awoke, the clock on her bedside read three in the morning. She spent a while watching James. Beams of moonlight from the window illuminated his bare shoulder. Lily tried to imagine him in Spain, skin bronzed, strolling through sun-drenched plazas, soaring over the Quidditch pitch accompanied by thunderous applause, signing autographs. It did sound like a very appealing lifestyle. Meanwhile, she'd be in London, with dreary English weather and a drearier job, no family, no best friend, and not even the prospect of seeing James' grinning face after a long day to cheer her up. Perhaps she could go with him. He'd be delighted for sure, but what could she do there, while he attended training camps and matches and parties? She had a vision of herself being told to go stand on the side because she was neither pretty nor famous enough for pictures as reporters, photographers and admiring fans clamoured for James' attention, and then snorted at her own melodrama. She'd learned long ago that crying over unfortunate circumstances was pointless. If James went to Spain, she could just find another boyfriend.

Just then, James shifted in his sleep and his hand slid down a little from where it was resting on her stomach, and Lily knew she could never do that, not while she still remembered the strangely terrifying intimacy and the quiet gentleness of being with him, or the stunned expression that had been on his face when it was over.

Moving slowly to avoid waking him, she climbed out from between the wall and his body and got out of bed, pulling on one of her old school robes which she wore around the house as she went into the bathroom. There, she took out from a small cabinet the bottle of potion which Madam Pomfrey gave all the girls at Hogwarts when they turned seventeen, along with a stern lecture. Hers had been gathering dust in cupboards since then. Hoping it didn't have an expiration date like Muggle medicines did, she swallowed the contents, then made a face and drank a little water from the faucet to get the taste out of her mouth. As she towelled her face, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

Lily didn't know what she had expected, but she didn't look different at all, except for her hair being a lot more tangled. Would other people see her as different? Would they know she'd slept with a boy just by looking at her? That had always sounded like nonsense to Lily, but one could never tell. Curious, she pushed the robe off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet, but even when she was naked, she looked the same. She wished she knew what James had thought of her. It seemed rather improbable that anybody could be attracted to her pale, skinny figure, but James hadn't seemed to mind. He hadn't seemed to mind at all. In fact, he had acted as if she was every single one of his dreams come true.

He had looked as if he had tasted grace.

She was startled from her contemplation by a rustling sound and whirled around to find James staring at her from the doorway. He had thrown on some clothes and had clearly been cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Slowly, he put them on, his gaze transfixed on her naked form. With a couple of strides, he closed the distance between them. Lily almost took a step back, flustered by his proximity and half afraid that he would touch her, but James merely bent down, picked up her discarded robe, and keeping his eyes on hers, rose and draped it around her shoulders.

"Oh," Lily gasped, and burst into tears.

"Merlin!" James exclaimed. "What the bloody hell is wrong?" He made her sit down on the edge of the bathtub and kneeled between her legs. "Is your head okay?"

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine, it's---"

"Really? Because I'd never have thought that anything less than a good knock to the head would have made you sleep with me."

Lily had to laugh despite herself. "I'm sorry! Maybe it is my head, I never go on like this -- it's just -- I'm just a little... overwhelmed." She watched him take hold of one of her hands. "I've been missing Helen, and then the attack, and with you... Everything is so strange and hard, these days. I just wish... I wish I could talk to my mum," she said plaintively. Her voice was barely audible.

James tilted her chin up with her fingers so that she met his gaze. He looked sad. She gave him a watery smile and he moved closer, slipping his arms around her. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, her own hands clutching the front of his shirt. "I know I can never replace your family," he murmured into her ear. "But I promise, I'll always be here. I could never -- you know I love you." He pulled back a little and touched her hair.

"Did you really think I'd leave you to play Quidditch?" he asked, the corner of his mouth pulling up.

"You -- you're not going to Spain?"

"Of course not, you silly bint. I like you more than I like Quidditch. Anybody could see--"

"I love you," Lily said, and was surprised at how easy it was.

James stared at her for a few moments, lips parted, very still. And then, he smirked. "Is that right?"

"Well." Lily wiped her eyes. "Only on certain days of the week. I find that you act like a complete idiot on Tuesdays and Saturdays. It's unbearable."

"Oooh," said James. "You know what day this is?"

"Friday?" Lily asked hopefully, and found herself staring at James' wand.

"Not for the past three hours."

The last thing Lily saw before dissolving into shrieks due to being drenched in water was a devilish grin. "Oh God! James, I'm going to kill you!" she cried, and moved to rush into the bedroom to get her wand. Laughing, he gave chase and grabbed her arm before she had gone two steps. Then he pushed her against the door and they began kissing, and Lily forgot completely about the fact that the water had been incredibly cold.

*

Lily was just waiting for James to finish his lunch when a tiny owl landed on their table, nearly knocking her glass of water into his plate.

"Bloody hell!" James cursed, scrambling to save the last two bites of his meal. "Respect a bloke's right to eat, you stupid bird!"

Lily chuckled and untied the letter from the owl's leg. "Here, it's for you."

"Well, it can wait," James said balefully, and gulped down the rest of his food before opening the envelope. "It's from Dad," he said, scanning the letter. "He's asking me to collect a package from somewhere because he's too busy to get it himself."

"Where do you need to go?"

"It's nearby. But I thought you wanted to buy some parchment and quills."

"I can get those later. If this package is so important that your father couldn't wait and wrote to you, we should pick it up."

James snorted. "I wouldn't exactly call it important. Dad collects old Druid gravings, you see. Dull stuff, but he's completely crazy about it. Apparently this bloke approached him at a party and told him he had some samples Dad might in interested in, but Dad bought them without even seeing them when he heard they were gravings by Welsh Druid. And now the bloke's asked him to come pick them up."

"Welsh Druid?"

"Yeah, they're the rarest ones, Dad says. And most powerful, and most mysterious... Trust me, you don't want to hear all I've learned about them. Dad's been going on about these gravings for days. Mum says we can throw him out into the garden if he doesn't shut up."

"Couldn't the seller have just sent them?" Lily asked. "Your father's a busy man, it would've been more convenient."

James shrugged. "Maybe they're fragile. Or maybe the bloke wanted to get Dad into his shop so that he could sell some more stuff."

They paid for their food and walked out into Diagon Alley. In the distance were the remains of Wilkinson's Wonderful Wines. The rubble from the previous day's explosion had mostly been cleared away. Two wizards whom Lily recognised as Aurors were standing by the building; more had been stationed near the entrance of Diagon Alley and yet others were patrolling the long street. Lily shivered. James hadn't wanted to come here at all, but she had insisted, saying that they couldn't let Death Eaters rule them with fear. However, the visceral clenching in her gut made her wish she had not made him bring her here for lunch. The atmosphere in Diagon Alley was one of uneasy silence. Some shops were closed. People, much less numerous than usual, kept looking around as if expecting another attack, speaking in hushed voices and stopping to stare when they passed Wilkinson's shop. "This is exactly what they wanted, wasn't it?" she murmured to James. "They didn't just want to kill off a poor Muggle-born shopkeeper. They wanted to show everyone that they had both the guts and the power to get away with it. Now everyone's scared witless, and it's hard not to feel that way. I wish there was something I could do."

"I could do something."

"What?"

"I could apply to be an Auror," James said, gazing into the distance. "I've got the required NEWTs."

Lily looked at him, surprised. "An Auror? But-- well, that's great! Is that what you want to do? I didn't know you'd been thinking about it! What does your Mum think?"

"I'm not going to become an Auror."

"What -- why not?"

"Didn't you read the newspaper? After the attack, the Ministry decreed that the Aurors can now use Unforgivables."

"Oh. Well, but you wouldn't have to use them."

"Doesn't matter. I want nothing to do with it."

"James, you're going to have to get a job sooner or later. I know that you have all the money you need, but you can't sit around all day doing nothing."

"Look, it's my choice, all right?" James snapped. "You're the one who should worry about finding a job. A better one, that is, because the one you have--"

"Don't start that again! If I have to respect your choice than you have to do the same to mine! You've already told me a million times how much you hate my job, but it's the one I chose, so stop giving me such a hard time about it."

James sighed. "If you wish," he grumbled, and set off down the road, hands in his pockets. Rolling her eyes, Lily followed.

"Let's not fight," she said. "We keep going around in circles. We get nowhere and all it does is make us feel bad."

James glanced at her, then suddenly smirked. "Oh, I dunno. I rather liked your way of making up, last night."

Lily blushed. James chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Where is this shop?" Lily asked.

"We should be almost there. The letter said number three hundred and twenty eight, Diagon Alley."

"Three hundred and twenty eight? I didn't know Diagon Alley had that many buildings!"

"I didn't, either. Here we are -- well, this is a nice place, isn't it?"

They were standing at the very end of Diagon Alley. Beyond the corner was narrow, shadowed Knockturn Alley. Number three hundred and twenty eight was one of the last buildings on Diagon Alley itself, an old, decrepit structure that looked as if might collapse at any moment. At first, Lily had trouble seeing the shop -- the large windows were so encrusted with blackened grime that she couldn't read the words written on them. "Are you sure this is it? It doesn't look like the kind of place your father would like visiting."

"Rare stuff is usually sold in these sorts of places, so it might be," James answered, sounding dubious himself. "Let's get the package and go, looking at this building is hurting my eyes."

The door of the shop creaked loudly as they entered. Very little light was getting through the dirty windows; it took Lily some time to discern the ancient, stooped man frowning at them from behind the counter. "Yes?"

"Hello. I'm Alistair Potter's son. He sent me to collect his parcel."

"Ah." The man looked surprised and stared at them for a couple of moments. His narrow eyes lingered on her long enough that it would have made her uncomfortable if she hadn't known her wand was in easy reach. "I was expecting Mr Potter himself," the man said at length. "But no matter. Welcome to my shop, my name is Stephen Trip. If you'd be kind enough to step into the back, I've been keeping the gravings in my vault there, for safety." He flicked his wand at the door of the shop and a heavy bolt fell shut. "Diagon Alley is not the same anymore," he explained. "I have to lock up everytime I'm out of this room. You never know what those ruffians will do. Follow me, please."

Lily fell into step behind James, glancing at the odds and ends lining the shelves. The place looked like an antique shop, with plenty of old spellbooks, weapons and potion flasks, most of which seemed a bit suspicious. Trip unlocked a door behind the counter and held it open for them.

The room they entered was completely dark. She heard Trip shuffle inside behind her, then suddenly the door slammed closed. "Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!" Trip shouted, and all at once, Lily found herself bound and lost her balance. Their wands clattered down somewhere across the room. "Damn it, you bastard, what are you doing?" James yelled. She heard him struggle and then fall down on the floor near her. To her left, a torch flared to life. Fear growing in the pit of her stomach, she twisted around to see Trip smiling coldly at them. "No use trying to get away, there's an Apparation ward on the room." Lily immediately tried to Apparate, but it seemed he was telling the truth.

Trip's previous posture had obviously been deceptive; he was standing up straight and looked rather menacing in the flickering light. He walked around their bodies, took out a small pouch from his pocket and threw a pinch of Floo powder from it into the fireplace. His back was blocking Lily's view and she couldn't see the face of his interlocuter. "Hello, Algernon," Trip said.

"Do you have him?"

"I'm afraid there's a small problem," Trip answered. "Potter sent his son instead of coming himself, and the boy has brought a girl along." Trip turned and examined Lily's face, still obscuring her view the fireplace. "I do not recognise her face. She is obviously not one of us."

"Potter's girlfriend is a Mudblood!" the man on the other end of the Floo snapped. "But never mind that, what are we going to do now? Do you propose saying we do not have the journal because Potter is too lazy to take care of his own errands?"

"Don't despair, my friend. I think that young Mr Potter's involvement will be most beneficial."

"Oh? Do explain."

"We do not need Alistair Potter in particular. We simply need a Potter. Young Mr Potter can get into the family vault as easily as his father can."

"Yes, but he will not have the key!"

"Oh, I'm sure that Mr Potter knows very well where the spare vault key is kept, and will not mind getting it for us. I shall accompany him to make sure that he does not alert anyone. Mr Potter should cooperate willingly, knowing as he does that I can Apparate here in an instant and kill his girlfriend."

Lily had been fidgeting discreetly with her bonds to see if she could loosen them, but she froze at Trip's words, a bolt of fear piercing her chest. James was swearing beside her. Lily stared at Trip, paralysed. Who were these men? Were they just common thieves who wanted something from the Potters or had they fallen into the hands of Death Eaters? The other man had called her a Mudblood...

"Young Potter here can also be useful to us in another capacity," Trip continued. "We can threaten to kill him instead of putting his father under Imperius. Mr Potter may manage to break out of the control of Imperius, but he would never risk his son's life."

"Now there's a plan," responded the voice in the fire. "I was looking forward to getting my hands on that blasted do-gooder, but the priority is to get Dolohov acquitted. We've already bought half of the judges, we can't have Alistair bloody Potter messing everything up. Very well, let us do as you say. You'd better get going. The sooner we have that journal, the easier we can all breathe."

"Yes, we'll go immediately. Did you manage to finagle that Portkey from Transportation?"

"Yes, here." Lily saw Trip reach into the Floo and take an object. "Floo me as soon as you get back. You can get rid of the Mudblood once you have the journal," said Algernon, and the flames winked out. Holding a small, mangled teapot, Trip turned and surveyed James, ignoring her entirely.

"Now, Mr Potter," he began. "You may have gathered that I am detaining you here so that I may have your help in obtaining an object from your family vault. It is a small journal of no consequence, and I doubt its absence will have any effect on your family. Nevertheless, you may wish to raise an objection." James was struggling wildly beside her, but Trip took no notice. "I am going to show you what will happen if you do not cooperate. Crucio!"

With that shouted word, Lily's world went red. She was going to die, it wasn't possible to feel this much pain and live, it couldn't be. Dimly, she heard someone screaming, screaming...

As suddenly as it had begun, the pain ended. Shaking and panting, Lily opened her eyes to see James, his face bone-white. Trip chuckled. "Let me make something clear to you, Mr Potter. Your lady friend should never have left her parents' side to come and sully our world. She will die; quickly, if you do exactly as I say; slowly and painfully, if you do not. Though I must say, she does scream very nicely -- a fact you are no doubt already aware of. Perhaps I should make her do it again. Or perhaps I could put you under Imperius. I'm sure you know a couple of spells that would induce screaming if you were to cast them on her."

"NO!" James shouted. "I'll do whatever you want, just leave her alone!"

"That's the spirit," Trip said. He picked up their wands and placed them in an inner pocket of his robes. "Now, I am going to untie you. You know what will happen if you do not behave." As Lily watched, Trip freed James. She had barely managed to catch James' gaze when Trip Disillusioned both himself and James and spirited him away with the Portkey.

Once Lily found herself alone, the gravity of the situation began to set in. Her limbs were still trembling because of the Cruciatus. "It's all in your head," she told herself, trying to calm down. "It's just a curse, your body is fine." The residual pain, plus her worry over James and Trip's death threats, she very much wanted to scream, and then realised that screaming was perhaps not such a bad idea. "Help!" she shouted, as loudly as she could. Aurors were patrolling Diagon Alley, maybe somebody would hear her. However, nobody came. As she lay on the cold floor, her throat sore from yelling, the practical side of her mind began to reassert itself. Glancing around, she took stock of her surroundings.

The room she was in had just one window, and that one had been boarded up. It was bare apart from some boxes along one wall and the fireplace. Lily tried to stand up, but couldn't find enough leverage with her hands and legs tied together. She started fidgeting with her ropes again. The section that bound her wrists seemed to give a little. She started pulling at it, hoping to work one of her hands loose. She had no idea when James and Trip would be back. Trip had locked the door and taken her wand, leaving her trapped and defenceless. For the first time since she had started learning magic, Lily felt truly scared.

After an endless ten or fifteen minutes, Lily managed to free her hands. Thanking Merlin that Trip had for whatever reasons not checked the tightness of the bonds before leaving, she untied her legs and got to her feet.

The fireplace was obviously not going to serve as an escape avenue; Trip apparently carried the Floo powder with him and did not keep it in the room. Lily examined the window. The boards had been nailed to the wooden window frame and she doubted she could pry one off using only her hands. Desperate, she looked about for a tool, something she could use to pick or break the lock on the door. Her gaze landed on the boxes she had barely noticed earlier. Upon closer inspection, they seemed to have been taped up with Spellotape. Lily frantically tried to open one of them and had to settle for using her nails and teeth to tear through the tough material. She groaned when she saw that it merely contained books. It had been a while since Trip and James had left, they could be back at any minute. Lily debated the merits of spending another five minutes to open one of the other boxes to see if it held something that could be of use, but decided against it. She sifted through the contents of the box she had opened. At the bottom, there were a few heavier books. An idea began to form in Lily's head. She knew that two-way Portkeys usually deposited the returning user at the point of departure, so it was likely that Trip would appear in front of the fireplace when he came back. Clutching a thick book in her white-knuckled hands, she placed herself in a corner that wouldn't be immediately visible from that point and began to wait.

Her legs had just started to cramp from crouching for so long when James and Trip finally appeared out of thin air, without even the telltale "pop!" of Apparation. Lily waited until she had discerned Trip's profile, and then, cursing the fact that she had never played Quidditch, chucked the book in her hands as hard as she could at his head. "Get him!" she yelled at James, just as the book hit Trip's temple with a thump. James moved and Lily got up to rush the elder wizard but Trip stumbled out of the way of James' punch at the last moment and bringing his arm up, shot a spell at point-blank range at James' face. Horrified, Lily watched the badly aimed spell graze James' glasses.

With a sickening crack, the right lens shattered.

"James!" Lily forgot about escaping. All she could see were spiderweb cracks, James' eye shot through with red. She ran to his side, but a blast from Trip's wand knocked the wind out of her and she stumbled against James, sending them both sprawling into the corner.

"You see, Mr Potter," Trip said conversationally. "Mudbloods are such nuisances." He paused and looked Lily up and down. "And I do believe this one has outstayed her welcome. AVADA--"

"NO!"

James threw himself in front of her. Trip had stopped in mid-syllable, wand pointed. "Move, Mr Potter," he growled, "or I will move you myself."

"I'd die first," James spat. Lily clutched at the back of his robes. She felt as if the constant debilitating fear of the past hour had finally made her brain shut down.

"That can be arranged," Trip retorted, "but I'd rather not kill a pure-blood, you understand. That's not to say I have any compunctions about hurting you, however. On the contrary. And perhaps a little pain will help you understand the stupidity of falling for a Mudblood. Crucio!"

"NO!" Time seemed to slow. James' face burst into the forefront of her mind, laughter etched into its every curve. She couldn't let him get hurt again. She couldn't.

Lily opened her eyes just in time to see the curse hit something, and bounce back. For an instant, the air in front of James shimmered. Trip was knocked off his feet. His wand dropped from nerveless fingers.

With incredible clarity, Lily knew what to do. She scrambled to pick up Trip's wand and cast a Stunning Charm on him, then furiously, added a Petrificus Totalus and an Incarcerous for good measure before taking the two wands in his pocket.

"Lily," James gasped behind her. She walked to him and was unceremoniously pulled down into his arms. He was shaking, or perhaps that was her. "Let's get out of here," he said at length.

"Oh, God, how's your eye?"

"It hurts. I think I need to go to the hospital."

"Yes, we'll go, let's-- I'll take you there--"

"No," James interrupted. "Lily, I want you to get my parents. They should be at the Ministry. Tell them what happened. Mum'll send someone to take this bastard to prison."

"But shouldn't I--"

"I'm fine. I can get to St. Mungo's by myself, but I need to talk to Mum and Dad."

As they passed Trip's prone form, James knelt down to pick up a bound notebook, and then levelled a vicious kick at Trip's midsection. "I hope you suffer," he said. "All of you dark, murderous lunatics, I hope you're Kissed."

Even though she did not want to leave James to make his way to St. Mungo's alone, Lily did as he asked and went to find his parents at the Ministry. Upon hearing her story, Mrs Potter immediately Apparated to the Diagon Alley to deal with Trip, whereas James' father accompanied her back to the hospital. They learnt that James was being attended to by the Healers and were told to wait. Once she had nothing more to do, Lily's knees finally gave out and she collapsed into a chair in the small room that had been arranged for James.

Mr Potter was at her side in an instant. "Lily! Are you all right?"

Lily nodded weakly. She was feeling simply exhausted from the events of the past few hours. All she wanted to do was know that James was fine and pass out, preferably in a bed.

"Are you sure? Did he hurt you in any way? Use any spells?"

"No," she said, and then remembered. "Cruciatus."

James' father went pale. "Oh dear. For how long?"

"I don't know. Maybe ten seconds? I couldn't tell."

"Stay here. There's a potion that you should take, I'll tell one of the Healers." He rushed off and returned after a few minutes with a nurse holding a flask of potion which Lily was very familiar with -- Madam Pomfrey had made her take it lots of times after she had started seeing her parent's dead faces peeking out from the wreckage of their car in her nightmares.

"You should take some of this just before you go to sleep," the nurse told her. "Would you like to get some rest now? I can arrange a bed for you."

Lily made a negative sign. Just then, James was wheeled in on a stretcher, dressed in a hospital robe, unconscious. There was a white eye patch over his injured eye. Once James had been transferred into the bed, the Healer who had accompanied smiled at Lily and Mr Potter. "The operation went very well," he said. "We were able to get out all the glass pieces, and the damage was mostly superficial. We've Healed most of it, the rest should take care of itself. If Mr Potter wears the eyepatch for a week and takes the potions I've prescribed, he should be completely healed by next Monday."

James' father breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin."

"I've given him some painkillers, but if he requires any more please tell one of the nurses," the Healer continued. "He should wake up very soon." He was interrupted by the arrival of James' mother. After giving her the same reassurances, the Healer left the four of them alone. "I owled Dumbledore," Mrs Potter said. "He should know about this."

True to the Healer's word, James stirred within a few minutes. While his parents crowded around him, his good eye caught hers and held. She smiled at him. The she saw his eye being drawn to something else and turned to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway, his face grave. He enquired after their healths before conjuring a chair for himself. "I am very sorry about the ordeal you've been put through," he told Lily, then turned to Mrs Potter. "I assume this Trip was a Death Eater?"

"We don't know for certain. He did not confess and there was no known criminal record, not that that signifies anything, nowadays. But from what you've told me, it seems probable."

"He kept calling me Mudblood," Lily interjected.

Dumbledore sighed. "I knew Trip. He was in Slytherin when I was still teaching Transfiguration, nearly forty years ago now, I believe. He was always a bit of a pure-blood fanatic, even at that age. Lily, if you do not mind, I'd like to hear what happened from you. Please try to remember as many details as you can."

Haltingly, with many interjections from James, Lily told him about the events of the afternoon.

"You took the notebook?" Dumbledore interrupted when she had come to that part of the tale. "Do you have it now?"

"It's in my pocket," James said, pointing to his belongings which someone had piled up onto a chair, along with the mangled remains of his glasses. Lily, who was the closest, retrieved the black book. Curious, she read the first page, onto which a business card had been pasted. "Horace Potter. Unspeakable, Department of Mysteries, Temporal Research Committee," she read aloud. The name jogged her memory. "Isn't that your uncle?" she asked James.

James had closed his uninjured eye. "He was my uncle," he answered softly. "He's dead."

"Dead?" Lily repeated, surprised. "You hadn't told me that. I just thought he'd been fired."

"He was fired," Mrs Potter said. "And killed shortly thereafter. The question is, what would anyone want with a dead man's journal?"

Dumbledore asked Lily for the journal and she handed it to him. "Perhaps Horace found out something he was not supposed to know about."

"My brother was fired for misconduct," said Mr Potter. "He wouldn't give us any details, but Unspeakables have always been reticent on the subject of their jobs. About a month later, he was attacked at his house. We found his body afterwards; it had been mangled horribly." He glanced towards his son. "Thank goodness James was spared."

Lily's gaze snapped to her boyfriend. "James was there?"

"I was nine," James was staring intently at his left knee as he spoke. "Uncle Horace used to take care of me sometimes, when my parents were away. He was always a bit mad -- he had all these grandiose plans for everything. He used to come up with these great games for us to play." James sounded very far away. "That day, we were crawling through the house pretending to be dragon hunters. We heard this crash... Uncle Horace told me to hide in the cupboard and never come out, no matter what. I watched them come in through the keyhole... They tortured him..." James' voice trembled. "They hurt his eyes, it looked like he was crying blood. They broke his legs and used Cruciatus. They kept asking him if he'd told anyone and he kept saying no, but they didn't believe him. They hurt him to get him to confess but he was just screaming, so much... After a while, he couldn't even do that, and then, they killed him."

Lily swallowed, aghast. She wanted to offer some comfort to him, but a hug seemed inappropriate for that moment. She settled for sitting down on the edge of his bed and resting her hand near his on the sheets. "You must have been very fond of him."

"Yeah," James said, smiling a little. "He was my favourite uncle." He caught her fingers in his, and was silent.

"We never found his killers," Mrs Potter said. "He didn't have any enemies that we knew of. They could have been Death Eaters, of course, but I doubt it. Voldemort was just beginning to be notorious, then."

"I believe you are wrong, Evelyn." Dumbledore had been quiet for so long that his voice startled Lily. "You may wish to take a look at this." With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, the black journal rose in the air and floated over to land in Evelyn Potter's lap. Curious, Lily went to lean against the side of the latter's chair. Mr Potter was doing the same. Lily peered over Mrs Potter's shoulder to read, but what she saw made her stop immediately.

"There are two dates on all the entries!" she exclaimed. The journal had been opened onto an entry that was dated 8 February 1967. Underneath that, in different-coloured ink, Horace had jotted down "21 January 1950". "Almost got caught today," the paragraph beneath the second date began. "Disabling the alarm on the 5 inch Time-Turners proved tricky, but the 7 inch ones are no longer precise enough. January proved to be the right month. I'm now certain that Tom Riddle is Voldemort. At the meeting he attended today, he told his associates to call him by that name. He must have been going by fake names since he left Hogwarts: they address him as Mr Richard. He has obviously mastered possession since I last saw him. I witnessed him seizing the mind of an associate to make a point. He did it with ease. The ten men present were immediately convinced to call him Lord."

"What is the meaning of this?" Mr Potter asked, frowning. "Who is Tom Riddle?"

"What's a Time-Turner?" Lily asked at the same time.

Dumbledore sighed. "Horace Potter's adventure obviously started when he was promoted to being an Unspeakable," he began. "The Unspeakables investigate many things using the resources of the Department of Mysteries. I myself worked for a short while for the Temporal Research Committee when I was in my sixties. It is a branch of the Department whose purpose is to investigate the workings of time."

"He was using the Time-Turners to go back in time!" Mr Potter exclaimed, as if it had just occurred to him.

"Wizards can time-travel?" Lily asked. She must have looked absolutely baffled, for Dumbledore shook his head at her.

"The use of Time-Turners is under very strict control," he said. "They may only be used by qualified Unspeakables, and then only under tightly monitored circumstances. Many different types of Time-Turners exist. The smallest, most valuable ones are very precise and let the user pinpoint the time to the nearest minute. The largest ones can take you back years. You can understand how people might be tempted to use them for their own ends, but meddling in time can have disastrous consequences. For this very reason the public at large is not aware of the presence of Time-Turners."

"You think Horace used them to spy on Voldemort," Mrs Potter interjected.

Dumbledore smiled. "Horace was a brilliant wizard. I taught him for seven years. As James said, he did have a penchant for making grandiose plans. I hope I am not insulting his memory when I say that he was sometimes a bit out of touch with reality, as well. It is not hard to become fascinated with the possibilities Time-Turners represent. Perhaps Horace thought he could prevent Voldemort from rising to power. He must have tracked Voldemort all the way back to his Hogwarts days, if this journal is any indication."

"And he found out that Voldemort was in fact called Tom Riddle." Mr Potter paused and contemplated the journal for a moment. "I don't believe I've ever heard that name."

"He was in Hogwarts a few years before your time. He was an exemplary student, but very poor, and while not unpopular, he had few close friends. Armando Dippet made him Head Boy. He disappeared a couple of years after he left Hogwarts. I do not know where he went. There were rumours that he had gone to America, but they were hard to verify since he was not in contact with any of his classmates. I suppose that wherever he was, he found some ways to make himself as powerful as he is now and was ready to pay the price for them."

Dumbledore stopped. For a moment, the old wizard seemed very frail to Lily. "You sound sad, Professor," she said gently.

"Tom Riddle was quite possibly the best student I have ever taught," Dumbledore explained. "His talent was simply immeasurable. I was aware of his ambitious nature and his keen interest in the Dark Arts, but I'd never suspected that he'd go this far. Obviously, I must have failed to impart the essential lessons." He sighed. "It was hard to understand Tom. He was always so quiet, and closed off."

"But why the secrecy?" James asked. "Why would it matter if everybody knew this?" His face was contorted with anger. "Why did he have my uncle killed for it?"

"Tom's father abandoned Tom's mother when he learned she was a witch. She died in childbirth and he grew up in a Muggle orphanage." Dumbledore said. "Tom Riddle was half-Muggle."

"What?" As one, everyone stared at the Headmaster, wearing identical dumbstruck expressions.

"But -- but that doesn't make sense!" James burst out. "He's got all these snotty pure-bloods rallying after him, they would never do that unless he was a noble pure-blood like them!"

"Which is why he's trying so hard to keep his real identity a secret," said Dumbledore. "I suppose it was especially important to him while he was still gathering followers, which coincides with the time of Horace's death. Of course, nowadays he's become too powerful for it to still constitute a threat to his authority, but it seems that Tom is still afraid of his past."

"How did he know, though?" Lily wondered. "How could he possibly know that James' uncle knew? I mean, obviously he was fired because somebody found out he was using the Time-Turners illegally, but if the Department of Mysteries is as secretive as you say, I can't imagine they announced the reasons for his dismissal public."

"They didn't," Mr Potter said. "When Horace wouldn't tell me why he was fired, I asked Algernon Rookwood to--"

"Algernon!"

"Dad, did you say Algernon?"

Mr Potter looked taken aback by the double outburst from James and Lily. "Yes, Algernon Rookwood. He's an Unspeakable."

"The man Trip spoke to in the fire was called Algernon!" exclaimed James.

"Are you certain?" Dumbledore enquired. "Algernon Rookwood?"

"Well no, Trip didn't say his last name."

"We must not be hasty in accusing a man on the basis of his first name. There is more than one Algernon at the Ministry. Evelyn, perhaps you could start a discreet investigation into Rookwood's activities?" Mrs Potter nodded. "There remains of course the fact that Algernon Rookwood would have been the perfect person to leak the information to Voldemort," Dumbledore mused. "In addition to being an Unspeakable, Rookwood was one of the few people whom Tom ever spoke to. They were in the same year, though Algernon was in Ravenclaw unlike Tom. It would therefore appear that there was at least one more person who knew all along the real identity of Lord Voldemort. Algernon would have rushed to tell Voldemort once he had an inkling of what Horace had discovered."

"Why on earth would they wait until now to try to get the journal?" Mr Potter asked. "The Department of Mysteries asked me to hand over my brother's personal belongings after his murder so that they could check no trace of his dealings remained, but everybody knows I refused to let them sully his memory by picking through his possessions."

"Algernon might not have known about the journal itself at all," Dumbledore replied. "Every few years, the Department of Mysteries carries out a large overhaul of its records so that it can cross-reference all the information about new discoveries with the existing documents. The last such operation was only two months ago -- Algernon could very well have come across a mention of the journal while the former was in progress. Assuming of course that we are Algernon Rookwood is our man."

"He very nearly cost Lily and James their lives," Mrs Potter said angrily. "I am going to get an Auror on his case right now. All his steps will be followed." Getting up, she kissed James' cheek and nodded to the other three occupants of the room before rushing off.

"I'm sorry, James," Mr Potter muttered. "If I'd handed Horace's journal over to the Department of Mysteries when they asked me to, none of this would have happened."

"You mustn't blame yourself, Alistair," Dumbledore reassured him. "It was most definitely not your fault. Now, I wonder if I might speak to James and Lily privately, for a moment."

James' father looked surprised at this request, but left the room without protesting. Lily glanced at James, curious about what Dumbledore could want with them.

"You have had a trying day. I would only like to ask you a couple of questions before I leave you to your rest. Lily, you said that something blocked the curse that Trip cast on James?"

"Oh. Yes, it was strange. He cast the Cruciatus, but it simply bounced back. It was suddenly as if there was an invisible shield in the air in front of us, for no reason at all."

"Things rarely happen without reason," Dumbledore said. "It is much more likely that you yourself had something to do with it. Can you tell me what you were doing at that very moment?"

Lily felt flustered, not wanting to relive the afternoon. She moved back to James' side and he grabbed her hand again. It felt strange to hold hands in front of their former Headmaster, but Dumbledore did not act as if he had even noticed. "I can't remember very clearly," Lily said. "When James threw himself in front of me to save me from being killed, I was just -- I was so scared that something would happen to him. Trip had already injured his eye, and I-- I didn't want him to be hurt any more."

"And you made sure that he wasn't."

James sat up straighter in his bed. "What? Are you saying that Lily made the shield? She didn't have her wand! And I thought the Cruciatus was supposed to be unblockable!"

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling at them from behind his half-moon glasses. "Oh, that is completely correct. Neither the Cruciatus nor the Killing Curse can be blocked by any known magic." He made a motion with his wand, and the air burst into glimmering colour all around them.

"Ley lines!" Lily exclaimed.

"Oh, I remember! Professor Flitwick used to make souffles with these!"

Dumbledore chuckled at their reactions. "Magic does not only consist of wand-waving and silly incantations. Magic is all around us, but we do not know how to employ more than a minute fraction of it. The art of manipulating ley lines to achieve a desired result outside of what can be achieved with conventional spells has long been lost. Legend has it that the ancient Welsh Druid could do all kinds of magic without having to resort to a wand. We are none us that proficient in wandless magic, but a suitably powerful witch or wizard can still manage impressive feats. Lily, would you like to help me demonstrate?"

Hesitant, Lily nodded.

"Close your eyes," Dumbledore instructed. "Try to focus all your mind and emotions on what I am going to tell you. Now remember how you felt when you thought James was going to be hurt."

Lily almost cried aloud at the intensity of the emotion that flooded through her at the memory. She was seeing the shards of James' glasses, bloodied around the edges, and her heart contracted painfully in her chest.

James gasped.

Her concentration broken, Lily's eyes opened. There was nothing in the air in front of her. The ley lines had disappeared.

James looked awestruck, his mouth hanging open. "You did it," he said. "The lines just came together, like a big towel in the air. It only lasted for a moment, though." He grinned at her. "It was brilliant!"

"Yes, it was rather impressive," added Dumbledore. "I've always thought you would be an extraordinary witch, Lily. It is most gratifying to see that I was correct."

"And don't you think, Professor, that such a brilliant witch should have a better job than being the Ministry's Azkaban liaison?" James jumped in. Lily wanted to hit him, injured or not, but Dumbledore's eyes had started twinkling harder than ever.

"You may be right," the latter said. "Perhaps we can convince Miss Evans to take another position; at the Department of Mysteries, for example. They have an office dedicated to the creation of new spells. A witch with your aptitude for ley manipulation would be a great asset to them."

"Excuse me? Do you expect her to go to work there after what we found out about them tonight?" Lily made an indignant sound at being discussed as if she wasn't in the room, and was blatantly ignored.

"I doubt Rookwood would try to harm Lily openly, if he is indeed operating as a spy. Meanwhile, the head of the Temporal Research Committee owes me a rather large favour. Perhaps tomorrow he will accept going back to this afternoon and placing this journal back in Trip's pocket if I explain the situation to him. This way, Voldemort will not have reason to suspect any of us might be aware of his identity."

"But Professor Dumbledore, is that really -- well, ethical?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes vanished at her question. His face hardened. "It isn't. However, we are soon going to be fighting a war. The attack yesterday was, I fear, only the beginning. We cannot always afford to be to scrupulous if we want to defeat Voldemort." Dumbledore steepled his fingers together under his chin and leaned back in his chair. "Which brings me to my second point."

Lily, feeling her exhaustion more acutely every moment, desperately wanted to rest her head on James' shoulder, but that would not be appropriate in front of Dumbledore. Despite her exhaustion, however, she also felt oddly alert, drinking in every one of Dumbledore's words.

"You have now both witnessed first-hand what Voldemort and his followers are capable of. They are powerful, and they do not seem inclined to stop at anything to achieve their aims. But I believe they can be beaten." The utter conviction in his voice was enough to make Lily want to reserve her ticket for the victory party. "I have gathered a small group of people to undermine Voldemort's campaign. Each one of us is aware of the atrocious, nonsensical nature of Voldemort's ideals and we will do everything in our power to stop him from spreading them further. Unfortunately, our numbers are very few. Our efforts barely make a dent in Voldemort's power and influence." He surveyed them intently over the tops of his glasses. "I am asking you to join us."

James looked just as stunned as Lily felt. "Us?"

"You are both immensely talented. I have seen you show great integrity and strength of character under the most trying of circumstances." He got off his chair and made it disappear with a wave of his wand. "Please consider this. I must get going, dinner shall soon be served in the Great Hall. Remember that you will always be welcome at Hogwarts and at my office, no matter what your decision may be."

Once Dumbledore had left, James turned to her. "I reckon he's off his head, wanting us to fight Voldemort. What do you think?"

Lily contemplated his eyepatch for a long moment, strangely disappointed. "I'm too tired to think," she said at length, and went to fetch Mr Potter so that she could Apparate home.

*

When Lily Apparated onto the deserted Cornish beach, it was nearly six o'clock. James rose from where he was sitting to greet her.

"James, it's beautiful here," she said by way of greeting. "How did you find it?"

"We came here a couple of summers ago," he replied. He had immediately thought of bringing her here when she had said that she wanted to get away for a weekend, just to get out of London. "You should have seen us! We were staying in my old tent, which has just these tiny four bedrooms and a loo, but we had a great time. We drank a lot, though, so none of us really remembers it all."

"Typical," Lily said. James proposed taking her to the inn so that she could leave her bag there, but Lily asked if they could have a walk first. Stashing her bag behind a boulder, they strolled until they had reached a small outcropping of rock and climbed it so that they could sit and talk. From his seat, James could see the whole of the beach spread out before him, the beautiful stretch of white sand, darker at the edge where the waves broke, breathtaking in its isolation. Lily was sitting between his legs with her back to his chest, though she could barely feel her body through the multiple layers of clothing they both were wearing to protect themselves from the cold November wind.

"How was work, today?" he asked. The grandness of the beach made him want to speak in a hushed voice, tone himself down. He had at first been worried about Lily working in the Department of Mysteries, but had felt easier when Dumbledore had told him that the journal had mysteriously disappeared from among Trip's belongings, which had been confiscated when he had been sentenced to Azkaban. Unfortunately, his mother had been unable to find enough evidence to arrest Rookwood, but Lily had reported that she had only seen the elderly Unspeakable a few times, and that he had given no indication of knowing her.

"It was fantastic. You will not be believe what I did." She waved her hand and ley lines appeared in the air, glorious, glimmering. James expected Lily to take out her wand and wasn't prepared to see her simply reach into the ordered mess and begin plucking at the strands of magic with her fingers, slowly weaving them into a pattern. He could see that she was not very sure. A few times she had to unravel a section to fix a mistake, but after a while, she let her arms drop and muttered "pencil". At once, the lines blinked out and a pencil clattered onto the rock.

"You can Conjure without a wand, now? What are you doing wasting your time here with me? I'm one of the lowly species who still has to use one."

Lily reclined more comfortably against him, stretching out her legs. "Oh, I don't think I'll be throwing my wand away soon. Not for the next eighty years or so, at least. The boss told me he wants me to spend the next two months researching wandless magic, he thinks Dumbledore might be right about the--"

"I'm glad you've found something you like," James interrupted her, partly because too much theorising about magic was not particularly interesting to him when he had his girlfriend in his arms.

"Oh, I wish they'd let you into the Department one day so that I could show you the ley rooms. When I work in there and I create something-- if everything is done right it looks so beautiful."

James smiled at her obvious happiness, reaching forward a little to pick up at the forgotten pencil and twirl it between his fingers. "I've got something to tell you," he said. "I've decided to do something. I don't know if you'll like it or not, but--"

"What is it, James?"

He took a deep breath. "I've decided to join Dumbledore's order. I went to talk to him yesterday, and it's settled."

"Dumbledore's order?" She grabbed his hand, the one that was twirling the pencil, making him be still. "But why?"

James sighed. "That whole ordeal with Trip. And my uncle's death... I can't stand knowing that these bastards are ruining people's lives while I could be doing something about it. Even if I only save one person, I think I'll have done something worthwhile, at least."

Lily was looking at him strangely, her face unreadable. Pulling herself up, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye, where a small scar remained from when Trip had broken his glasses. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, and he was so much in love at that instant that his heart could have contained the whole world.

"I'll probably make a mess of things," he said when she pulled away.

"No, you won't. You'll be brilliant at it, like you are at everything else."

"Mmm... I'm thinking of telling Sirius, Remus and Peter. I think they might want to join, too."

"The next time you speak to Dumbledore, tell him that I'm in," Lily said.

"But your job--"

"I can do both. Besides, I'm sure it'll all be very exciting. We can go on secret missions where I can conjure frying pans even if evil Death Eaters deprive us of our wands."

James laughed. Lily settled in against his back once more. They watched the sea in silence, listening to the cry of the birds high above. "Won't you marry me?" James murmured. "Everything is so much better when I'm with you."

Lily twisted in his arms to look into his face, bright red hair muted in the dim light of the late afternoon. "Oh all right, then," she said, sounding bemused.

James literally felt his heart stop. "Really?" he asked, then felt like a fool for sounding like a five year old.

Lily laughed, eyes dancing. "Yep."

"Oh. Oh well. That's, er, that's good, then. Excuse me." He got to his feet just as Lily was leaning in to kiss him, and shouting at the top of his lungs like a very joyful maniac, threw himself headlong into the sea.

"James, what are you doing, you idiot!" Lily screeched, but James could only grin. He would join Dumbledore's order. For a moment he wished desperately that Sirius and Remus and Peter were at his side, but he would see them soon enough. Right now, it was enough that Lily was there. Still grinning madly, he pulled himself out of the frigid sea and proceeded to kiss her absolutely breathless.