Be All My Secrets Remembered

La Reine Noire

Story Summary:
'Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.' Spanning from spring of 1976 through the fateful Halloween night of 1981, the adventures and misadventures of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, and their contemporaries, particularly those belonging to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Toujours Dysfunctional. Warnings: contains dark thematic material, violence, innuendo, as many literary references as can be managed, and very mild slash.

Chapter 22 - Shadows of the Future

Chapter Summary:
Wherein Sirius goes house-hunting, Snape and Agrippa discuss employment possibilities, Remus waxes philosophical, Dorcas waxes cryptic, and James and Lily ponder The Future.
Posted:
06/17/2005
Hits:
1,887
Author's Note:
Resubmitted due to formatting issues with the new system.


Chapter Twenty-Two: Shadows of the Future

April - May 1978

"Where the hell is Prongs?" Sirius muttered to himself as he glanced through the window for what he felt to be the umpteenth time. "I told him to meet us here at three o'clock."

"He's probably still out with Lily's family," replied Remus with a shrug. "You know how luncheon with the parents invariably lasts longer than planned."

"I'm just shocked Lily hasn't cut it short, given how much she's been worrying about N.E.W.T.s since the start of winter term. It certainly took enough effort for Prongs to convince her to even leave the library." Sirius turned back to Remus. "Moony, I never did ask you--"

"No."

"Oh come now, I haven't even asked the question yet."

"Sometimes it's truly safer not to know," Remus told him, grinning. "Alright, fine. Ask."

"Do you still fancy Lily? I hope you don't by now, but I thought it worth making sure."

"Do I...?" Remus frowned, puzzled. "Oh, you believed me?"

Sirius looked at him for a few seconds before asking, "What do you mean?"

"I never fancied her, Padfoot. I told you that to shut you up."

"You..." Sirius trailed off, shaking his head. "Who was it, then?"

"Nobody."

"Nobody?"

"See? You'd never have believed me if I'd told you the truth."

"So you decided to make me jump at every possible sign of jealousy, resentment, or simple annoyance between you and Prongs because you thought it might be fun?" Sirius, in spite of the words, was now laughing openly. "Moony, you're a genius."

"Thank you," he replied. "So, what do you think of the place?"

Sirius looked around the admittedly nice, well-lit front room, having already explored the small kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. "Very nice. It's even already connected to the Floo network. And you can't fault the location," he added, gesturing to the view of Hyde Park from the windows. "Now, the question is, what do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Prongs is staying with his parents for the time being, and I suspect it's only a matter of time before he asks Lily to move in with him. And Wormtail's doing the same thing, except he'll need to wait till Hennessey leaves Hogwarts next year." Sirius shrugged. "So..."

"What about Dorcas?"

"What about her? Emmeline Vance's parents have decided to retire to Greece once she leaves Hogwarts, and she's offered to let out rooms to Lil and Dorcas. Besides, I've already lived with you and Prongs and Wormtail. Familiarity and all that."

Remus frowned. "You forget, Padfoot, there's this little thing called a monthly transformation into a werewolf. Where," he gestured around the room, "in this 'charming Victorian' flat, am I supposed to do that without destroying the place, waking the neighbours, killing houseguests, or any combination of the three?"

"Well, if it's the flat you're worried about, you said your parents had the garden shed made over from when you were little," countered Sirius. "You could spend full moon nights there."

"Oh, and that's filial respect. 'Hi Mum, hi Dad, I'll go transform into a ravening beast now. Leave supper outside the door. Cheers!'"

"Now you're just being a prat."

"Padfoot, I appreciate the offer, truly, but I just can't do it. It's not just the transformations. You know I can't afford half the rent on a place like this. And don't say you'll pay for it," he added quickly, anticipating Sirius' protest. "That's not the point."

"Ah, I see I've run up against the infamous Pride of Remus Lupin," Sirius intoned, grinning. "So you'll be living in Bristol, then?"

"I can Apparate just as well from there as from here," Remus pointed out. "Now, if only I had a job to which I needed to Apparate..." He sighed. "I give Flourish and Blotts another three months after I leave Hogwarts, at best."

"If they haven't noticed by now..."

"Note, Padfoot, the fact that I only ever worked part-time for them in the first place. I was always able to schedule full-moon holidays without anyone ever noticing, because the longest I was there at any stretch was two and a half months," he explained. "I give them three months before they notice there's a pattern to my requested holidays. That, and I'm not a student with a summer job anymore. I suspect they'll dig deeper now that I'm asking for a proper position."

"Have you asked Dumbledore? I don't know what he could do, but..." Sirius shrugged. "I'm sure he could come up with something. Or...actually, I've got a better idea."

"I'm officially worried."

"You've always been better at research than I am. When I start working for Gringotts, I'd be willing to pay you for that. Researching curses and suchlike, before I go off to break them." It was his turn to override Remus' half-formed protests by adding with a wicked grin, "My uncle Alphard left me all his books on ancient curses and jinxes."

Knowing better than to argue when he was quite obviously outmanoeuvred--or confronted with the offer of almost certainly priceless volumes on curses--Remus sighed. "Very well. But that won't pay the bills on its own. I'll need odd jobs in the meantime."

"But at least you won't starve," Sirius offered. "Please, Moony. Don't be difficult. It'll be just like Defence Against the Dark Arts, think about it."

"Right. But I'm still living in Bristol."

"If you insist," Sirius conceded. "But when living the stodgy life chez parents starts boring you to death--and, don't argue with me, it will--the door to this flat is always open."

"Thanks, Padfoot."

The front door swung open, and James strolled through. "Sorry I'm late, mates."

"Lily's parents still tolerate you?" teased Remus. "I'm assuming the grin means yes."

"Oh, her parents are brilliant. I don't know what to do with her sister, though," James admitted, shaking his head. "You met her, didn't you, Padfoot?"

"For all of about thirty seconds, yeah," Sirius said. "Lily told me she's a bit sore about anything to do with Hogwarts, so I doubt it's a personal problem."

"Well, I'd much rather she didn't insist on glaring at me every time I mention anything remotely related to school or magic."

"With all due respect, Prongs, I can't entirely blame her," Remus put in mildly. "Think about it..." He broke off. "No, I can't imagine you could put yourself in her shoes. After all, you're James Potter, Head Boy at Hogwarts, Quidditch Captain, et cetera..."

James lowered his eyes, embarrassed. "It's not that much."

"Prongs, it's a compliment. But it does also mean you can't possibly understand what it's like to not be the best. Maybe we ought to introduce her to your brother, Padfoot," he suggested with a shrug.

"What?" Sirius snorted. "Regulus, the Pureblood Prince, lower himself to talk to a Muggle? That would be a strange world, Moony, and one I never expect to see without a great deal of alcohol involved."

"Weren't you the one who said he wasn't as bad as he used to be?" James ventured, walking past them to peer into the other rooms. "Bloody Hell, Padfoot, this is a palace."

"I know, I approve," Sirius replied lazily. "Yet you turn it down to live with your parents, who, while two of the best people I've ever known, are still your parents. And Moony's afraid he'll rip it to pieces if he lives here."

"You say that as if it's not a valid concern," Remus protested.

Sirius opened his mouth to argue further, but paused, apparently having thought of something else. "Didn't you say something about Agrippa working on a cure for lycanthropy?"

"Yes," replied Remus, "but even Agrippa doesn't work miracles. That'll take years, possibly even longer."

"If ever," Sirius scoffed, "considering he's got Snivelly as his assistant. I wouldn't be surprised if he sabotaged the whole thing."

"Padfoot, really. Snape may be many things, but I don't see him deliberately ruining his favourite professor's project."

"He does have a point," James added. "We all know Snivelly's got no better prospects than working with Agrippa. Who else tolerates him?"

"Lucius Malfoy, for starters," Remus answered, recalling what he had overheard outside Flourish and Blotts the past summer. "Now there's a match made in Hell, if ever there was one. Snape has the brains, Malfoy has the influence."

"Malfoy's not precisely stupid," Sirius said. "And apparently neither is my cousin. I'm not sure if I've given her enough credit. If Malfoy's a Death Eater--and I'll bet you anything he is--nobody can pin him to it."

"If Malfoy..." James frowned, "You think Snape is too?"

Remus shook his head. "Not at Hogwarts. Too risky, don't you think?"

"With the way things are?" Sirius laughed shortly. "I'd say we're the ones at risk, not them. Martindale's done sod all. Maybe he's hoping Voldemort turns out to be a bad dream. Bloody idiot."

"That's what Dad says. I know he's been trying to convince people that Martindale ought to resign." James shrugged. "Who knows?"

Gloom seemed to settle over the room, and the silence lengthened into minutes. Finally, Remus cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose if we're finished here, we ought to Apparate back to Hogsmeade. Nose back to the grindstone and all that."

"Good point," James agreed. "Lil's probably waiting."

"You two go ahead," Sirius told them. "I have contracts to sign. Sirius Black is officially no longer homeless."

***

"Severus?"

Severus glanced round to face him. "Yes, sir?"

"Might I have a moment of your time, Severus?" He gestured to follow, and retreated into the office. By the time Severus arrived, Agrippa had seated himself in his high-backed wooden chair, and Severus settled down in the seat opposite. "I have a rather complicated question for you."

"I'll do my best to answer, sir," replied Severus cautiously.

Agrippa hesitated, debating whether or not it was a good idea to broach the question in the first place. Things had been peaceful this year, outside of that incident with Anthony Travers. His own near-loss of temper seemed to have put some fear into his seventh-year students, and while Agrippa disliked few things more than rule by fear, one did as one needed in these situations.

And now Severus was looking at him, apparently more puzzled than before. Agrippa bit the proverbial bullet. "Professor Dumbledore had planned to put your name forward to the Ministry of Magic as a potential Auror. Is this something you would consider doing?"

Severus blinked, visibly surprised. "I hadn't...well, I hadn't really thought about it, sir." He seemed lost in thoughts for a second, before adding, perhaps too quickly, "But now that I do, the answer is no."

"Is this on account of what happened last year?" Agrippa asked softly. "Severus, I...if it was anyone's fault, it was mine. I should never have allowed you to brew that potion."

"Sir, with all due respect, I am not Auror material. That sort of thing is better left to the likes of Potter and his cronies." His words, though perfectly measured, betrayed the slightest sharpness. "Was that what you wished to ask me?"

"It does seem a pity. Professor McKinnon speaks very highly of you, both as a Prefect and as a student in his Defence Against the Dark Arts class." Agrippa sighed. "Are you absolutely sure, Severus? I think it would be good for you."

"I'm afraid I must disagree, sir," refuted Severus, his voice cold and without inflection. "I'd rather avoid anything that forces me to spend more time with Potter..." He broke off, grimacing. "Surely you understand."

Those last words were infused with genuine pleading, something so unlike him, and in such sharp contrast to what had come before, that Agrippa was caught off-guard. "Severus, I worry about you--"

"Is this on Malfoy's account?" Severus' eyes narrowed. "You can't criticise me for seeking out someone willing to take me seriously. Someone that isn't you, of course," he added, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"I remember Lucius Malfoy, Severus. A very bright young man, and ambitious to boot. Professor McKinnon used to call him the perfect Slytherin, a credit to his House. But I worry about where that ambition will take him, where it may already have taken him."

"You mean the---You-Know-Who," Severus murmured. "You think Malfoy's a Death Eater."

"I think nothing, Severus..."

"Professor McKinnon is doing the same thing, you know. He suspects us all of being Death Eaters in training, and he's the head of our House." The words were tumbling out of Severus' mouth, bitterly edged. "That doesn't strike me as altogether fair, if even our own Head of House doesn't trust us. The Headmaster makes no secret of what he thinks of us. Do you think that fair, sir?"

"I don't think it fair, Severus, believe me. I'll speak to Andrew--"

"The way you spoke to Dumbledore?" he spat. Agrippa winced visibly, and Severus' anger seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared. "I apologise, sir. I didn't mean...I know you did your best, I truly do. But I can't...the only thing I have to cling to is that, after exams, I will never have to speak to Sirius Black or James Potter again. And I know at least Potter is going into Auror training. Black managed to ruin his chances effectively enough, thank goodness."

Agrippa closed his eyes for several seconds, trying to regain his composure.

"Please tell me you understand, sir." There was the slightest hint of trembling in his voice now.

"I understand, Severus," he finally said, hoping he did not sound nearly as wearied as he felt. "I can only assume at least some of this is to do with Lily Evans."

There was no reaction, but he had not expected one. After all, if the potion had done its intended work, whatever confused profusion of feelings the Gryffindor girl had provoked in his brightest student would have been well nigh quenched by now. And, as this was Severus Snape, he had no doubt that the potion would have done precisely what it was intended to do.

"At any rate, that is not the only thing I wished to ask you." Severus' fingers tightened on the arms of the chair, and Agrippa sighed inwardly. "This is not an interrogation, Severus, I promise you."

"I never thought it was, sir," he replied, his caution evident. "What was the question?"

"Severus, as you are well aware, I have started a new project, one that cannot be properly researched here at Hogwarts. I have bought a secluded house in Yorkshire that I plan to convert into a laboratory during the summer. However, while I wish to do most of the experiments myself, I am in need of an assistant, someone who can find ingredients, books, manuscripts, in short, do precisely what you've been doing for me these past few years, except as an official and paid position." He leant forward to look Severus directly in the eyes. "Is this a prospect that might interest you?"

He almost smiled at how very taken-aback his student looked. Surely it couldn't be that much of a surprise. "It would be an honour, sir, really. I can't imagine anything I'd rather do."

"Well," Agrippa smiled, "there is one small proviso."

"What's this?" The caution had returned, this time in the form of a slight frown.

"There are places--shops, libraries, archives--that will not permit you access without a Masters' Certificate. Now, now," he held up his hand to pre-empt Severus' interruption, "you needn't worry. I've spoken to some colleagues and friends, and if you are serious about accepting this position and whatever requirements go along with it, starting in July, there will be a place for you in Wittenberg. Do not worry about the language; your supervisor speaks English as well as I do."

"I'm..." Severus hesitated, "I'm overwhelmed, sir. Thank you. How long would I stay there?"

"No more than a year, I should think, and perhaps not anywhere near that long, considering your aptitude, and the rather...rigorous...nature of the professor who has offered to take charge of you. I would have loved to hand you over to Flamel at the Institut Alchimique in Reims, but then I suspect I'd never get you back," he admitted with a wry smile. "So, out of sheer selfishness, I have arranged for you to have a brilliant but quite hopelessly mad professor as your supervisor."

There was almost the hint of a smile on Severus' face. "I've had my share of mad professors, sir. I'm sure I can handle another."

"Ah, but not like this," Agrippa said expansively, allowing his amusement and relief full reign. "This gentleman was one of those who loved making a spectacle of himself in front of Muggles, back before the International Statutes of Secrecy came into effect. Finally, after a few very peculiar incidents that convinced das Zaubereiministerium that Professor Faust wasn't entirely in his right mind, they sent in a group of Hit Wizards to remove him rather forcibly from his lecture one evening. The Muggles, of course, assumed it was the Devil's work, and he's since become quite the legend."

"And you want me to work with him?" Severus asked incredulously.

"You'll be fine, Severus. Though there is one more thing..."

Severus swallowed. "What?"

"He's a ghost."

"What?"

"Rather like Professor Binns, actually. It's why he requires an assistant," Agrippa added. "He's as old as I am, Severus, but..." He broke off. "Never mind. Do you think this might be agreeable to you?"

Severus nodded, but his eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. "How did he die?"

"I don't remember," Agrippa said, shrugging. "It was some time ago. His work was very important to him, and no doubt he believed it necessary to continue, regardless of death. Or he may simply have forgotten, and is now wandering Wittenberg, scaring Muggles and wizards alike, to his heart's content. A very odd man, Johann Faust."

"Yes," Severus murmured thoughtfully, studying his favourite professor's age-worn face, "a very odd man indeed."

***

It was well past midnight, according to Remus' watch. A quick glance to his right revealed Dorcas slumped over her Arithmancy textbook, face buried in her arms. Smiling, he reached over and poked her in the side. She stirred, growling something under her breath.

"I was convinced Padfoot was lying when he told me that sleeping with his Transfiguration book under his pillow the night before O.W.L.s was what gave him his mark," he said, "but now that you're doing it too, I begin to wonder..."

"I need coffee," was her retort as she rubbed her eyes. "Or, better yet, something that resembles sustenance. Otherwise I will die." Turning, she glared at him. "Why are you so bloody cheerful?"

"I'm not cheerful. I'm just not biting people's heads off," he explained. "Padfoot and Wormtail left a few minutes ago. They're sneaking down to the kitchens, so we should have food sooner or later, so long as they don't get sidetracked."

"Which, knowing Sirius, they probably will," remarked Dorcas with a stifled yawn. "That boy could compete with Hagrid's Nifflers where distractions are concerned."

"Do you love him?"

Dorcas' brows shot upward. "Where did that come from? I wasn't aware Nifflers were romantic in the least."

"Well, do you?" Remus resettled himself in the chair, crossing his arms.

"Yes, I do love him. The same way you do," she added with a smile.

"With all due respect, I'm not sleeping with him," he pointed out. "I think there's a bit of difference."

"Oh, that's what you're asking!" Dorcas laughed. "You need to learn the fine art of interrogation, Remus. Vague questions give you vague answers."

"Alright," Remus conceded. "Are you in love with him?"

"No, I'm not." Was it his imagination or had she answered that too quickly? Remus wasn't sure.

"Really?"

"My dear Remus, that would be a grave error of judgement."

"Love, I'm told, has nothing to do with judgement," Remus pressed. "In fact, I'd go so far as to say that it's the opposite of judgement, as judgement requires impartiality, and love by its very definition negates impartiality."

"A fine logical statement, Mr Lupin. You might have missed your calling as a philosopher." She paused for a second, before asking, "What are you planning to do after N.E.W.T.s, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't know," he answered, truthfully. "I'd love to teach, but..."

"But what? You'd make a wonderful teacher. Let me guess..." she grinned, "Defence? After Professor McKinnon retires?"

"Prongs is the resident expert there. Future Auror and all that. Come to think of it, shouldn't that be your speciality?" He was deflecting with all his might, while mentally cursing Sirius for having left in the first place. "I just like it. I don't know if I'd be any good at teaching." Suddenly, he hit upon something. "We'll see how Wormtail does on his N.E.W.T.s, and then we'll judge my teaching skills. And, that was a very smooth change of subject, but you still didn't answer my question."

"Damn and blast you and your sneaky ways," she said, the words undercut by her inability to hide her smile. "But you're quite right. Love does negate judgement."

"And is that such a bad thing?"

"The Beatles may believe that all one needs is love, but they're the biggest band in the Muggle world and can therefore afford to believe it."

"You're cynical," he observed. "I know Padfoot isn't the most reliable person in the world, but surely he deserves a bit better than that."

"Remus," her smile had faltered slightly, "you of all people should understand precisely what I mean. It's got nothing to do with being reliable. Sirius is the sort of person who sweeps into your life and turns everything upside down. It's wonderful; it's what I wanted. But it's also frightening, in its own way."

"Of course it is," he said, reaching out to take her hand. "Isn't that the point?"

"I suppose," she laughed. "One of those 'be careful what you wish for' moments, I guess. Lest ye receive it. I think it just startles me sometimes how normal it all seems now." Dorcas turned to look at him, her brow furrowed slightly. "And what about you?"

"What about me? And I truly hope you aren't about to say what I think you're about to say."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"Do I need to make a public declaration? Yes, Padfoot kissed me. It. Meant. Nothing."

She shrugged. "It looked like a great deal more than nothing from my angle, but that's neither here nor there."

"It's..." Remus broke off, shaking his head. "What do you mean?"

Unfortunately, precisely what she meant would remain a mystery for the time being, as the door to the Common Room swung open to admit Sirius and Peter, laden with stolen goods from the kitchens. Dorcas turned, eyes widening as she breathed, "Is that hot chocolate?"

"Hogwarts' finest," replied Sirius, setting the tray down on the table. "Along with scones, fruit tarts, pumpkin pasties, and whatever else Wormtail picked up that I didn't see."

"You truly are a god among men," she declared as she took a sip of hot chocolate.

"Hear that, everyone?" Sirius announced. "I want this taken down for posterity. The next time Dorcas insults me, someone needs to inform her that one does not insult gods among men."

"As if your ego needed any more swelling," retorted Remus, stretching forward to grab a lemon tart. "But thank you nonetheless, Padfoot."

Sirius settled down beside Dorcas, and peered carelessly at the unfinished sheet of equations. "Shame, shame. It almost looks as though you didn't get anything done in the interim."

"You're no better and you know it," she shot back. "Where are James and Lily?"

"Patrols. Or so they want us to think. I have my suspicions, but I think Moony will start hurling food at me if I voice them."

"I will. I like my appetite where it is, thank you."

Dorcas shook her head, laughing. "What is it with men and an inability to deal with displays of affection?"

"I'll have you know I have no problem with it," Sirius told her. "In fact, I encourage them. Free love and all that."

"And they call me the tart," Dorcas teased. "Apparently the rumour mill has it all wrong."

"They usually do," Remus reminded her. "Of course, there have been rumours about Padfoot for years now, so they might have it right for once."

"I resent that implication," said Sirius, not sounding resentful in the least. "That places me in the same category as Carmichael, and damned if I'll let that happen. I have standards."

"Was that meant to be a compliment?" Dorcas wondered aloud. "Should I be weak at the knees and on the verge of swooning?"

"You mean I don't already do that?" he demanded. "You've shattered my world, Dorcas."

"If I knew that was all it took..." She grinned, leaning toward him. "Your poor fragile male ego will simply have to live with it. You're good. But you're hardly Don Juan."

"What happened to being a god among men?"

"Frailty, thy name is woman," Remus intoned, earning himself a glare from Dorcas. "What, someone had to say it."

"I know, I know. I just thought it would be Casanova over there." She yawned, and set down the finished cup of hot chocolate. "At any rate, I'd best be off, if I'm to get any sleep tonight."

"I'll walk you back," offered Sirius, jumping to his feet. "What, someone has to protect you from ghouls and roaming Slytherins."

"And who's to protect me from roaming Gryffindors?" she tossed back laughingly as she loaded her bag with books, parchment, quills, and several scones wrapped in a napkin. "Goodnight, all. I've left that list of Potions ingredients for Lily if she wanted it."

"Dorcas," Remus glanced up at her, "what was it you were going to say to me earlier?"

"Remus, dear," Dorcas tilted his chin up so he was looking her in the face, "I want you to look in the mirror. Very closely."

After she and Sirius left, Peter turned to him with a frown. "What on earth did that mean?"

Remus shrugged. "Damned if I know. I don't have ink on my nose or something, do I?"

"Not that I can see."

"Then she was being Dorcas and oddly cryptic," he decided. "Alright, where were we?"

***

"Right...lacewing flies, powdered bicorn horn, knotgrass, boomslang skin..." Lily stopped walking. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

James nodded. "Leeches, and fluxweed picked at the full moon. And the lacewing flies need to be stewed for twenty-one days."

"I'm going to fail, aren't I?" Her voice was rising, high-pitched and panicked. "I can't even remember the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion, and we learnt those last year!"

"Just think about it this way. You don't need to brew it--Polyjuice being illegal--it's simply theoretical. Lists. Makes it less scary that way." James hugged her close. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."

"But I don't remember anything," she murmured. "And these are only the most important exams ever."

"And you're only one of the brightest students in our year," he refuted. "You'll do wonderfully, so wonderfully in fact, that St Mungo's will not only hire you; they'll name you Chief Healer, or whatever it is they have there."

Lily laughed faintly. "That is not going to happen. The youngest Chief Healer is my mum's age. But thank you." Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him. "I still cannot understand how you and Sirius aren't at all worried about exams."

"What's the use in worrying?" James shrugged. "It's only distraction, after all, and it doesn't help you in the least."

"Easy for you to say," she sighed. "Part of me just wishes it were over, but afterward, there's so much more to worry about. You know?"

"Yeah," agreed James, as they began to walk again. "The future's a scary thing. If I worry about anything, I worry about that."

"Why?"

"It's the rest of your life. School is so much simpler. You have timetables, rules, guidelines. Everything's spelled out. And then you leave and there's absolutely nothing to keep you from utterly cocking everything up." He reddened slightly, realising he'd said far more than he had intended. "At least that's what I worry about."

"And what makes you think you're going to mess everything up?" she asked softly.

"It seems almost too easy to do it, especially now. We're safe here, but what about there?" He gestured toward a nearby window. "And all anyone seems to want to do is pretend that nothing's happening. That everything is good and right, except that it isn't."

Lily nodded. "I understand that. I'll admit there have been times when it's occurred to me that I could just leave, go back to being a normal Muggle girl, at least as normal as I could ever be. Catch up on years of maths and literature and history, take my A-levels..."

Even as she spoke, James could feel his throat closing in, choking off his ability to breathe. "You could," he managed to rasp. "You'd probably be safer there."

"But I'm not going to, James." At that, he turned to face her, conscious of how relieved he must look. She seemed to notice it as well, as she reached up to cradle his face with one hand. "This is where I belong, for better or worse."

"You probably think I'm horribly selfish," he said, eyes lowered in embarrassment. "That I'd rather see you risk your life than never see you again."

"James Potter, I think I'd have been far angrier if I'd made the suggestion, and you weren't upset at the thought of my vanishing without a trace," she remarked, smiling. "No, I will certainly be staying. Provided I survive N.E.W.T.s, of course."

"Which you will," he added with a returned grin. "In fact, you'll do more than survive them. I told you. Chief Healer."

"I don't suppose you're willing to lay a wager on that?" she teased. "James Potter the Seer?"

"What, you don't trust my Inner Eye?" It was taking a great deal of effort on his part to keep a straight face. "That it tells me you'll pass your N.E.W.T.s with flying colours, become Chief Healer at St Mungo's and Minister for Magic, while also supplanting Narcissa Malfoy on the cover of Witch Weekly as the most beautiful witch in Britain?"

"I think you ought to get that eye checked," she suggested, between giggles. "I suppose you also predict a beautiful house in the country, three angelic children, and a sheepdog?"

"Only if that's what you want," James replied, as nonchalantly as he could. "You might prefer a beagle. Or even a cat. The Inner Eye is flexible on such matters."

"Oh, is it?" Lily was laughing helplessly now. "And here I thought prophecies were set in stone. Well then," she slipped her arms around his waist, "why don't you tell that Inner Eye of yours to let the future arrange itself? I'm quite happy in the present."

James, drawing close to kiss her, was entirely disposed to agree.


Author notes: Thanks to MariellaSara for German help, and Adelynne for coding.

I have been wondering for some time why Snape is referred to as the Potions Master, when all the other professors are just Professor. Add to this my general puzzlement regarding higher education for wizards, and I am making several assumptions: that higher education is mostly research-based, so most people do not bother with it; and that certain disciplines might require it for access to certain things. I know there are libraries and archives that wont allow just anyone access. It seems logical that the WW would have a similar setup, not to mention the fact that, if a wizard wanted to access something in a Muggle archive, he would need proof of some kind...

The next two chapters are going to be shorter, just to warn people. This being said, I will try to get them checked and posted as soon as possible. Theyre mostly setup, but I promise things wont be quiet for very long.