Eyes as Green as a Fresh Pickled Toad

Chapter Twenty-Three

Meddling

Nicolas Flamel was a crazy old man. When Lily thought of eccentric wizards puttering around in quaint cottages somewhere with stacks of books up to the ceiling and brightly colored sparks of magic floating around everywhere, apparently she thought of Nicolas Flamel. She wasn't quite sure where or when or why she'd been thinking of eccentric old wizards in cottages, but that wasn't really as important as the fact that she was currently sitting in an eccentric old wizard's living room.

He muttered to himself frequently, often using curse words and foreign languages and possibly curse words in foreign languages, but it was all so jumbled Lily couldn't really tell.

"Where the bloody hell is the--aha--and where in the hyprsnugthcr is the allfwrtthcz? Alu kwoaubh ilxzizyfgn...I thought I left...pero nada está aqui...need sugar and...aaIEE clockclick rAAAwrrginsschnaPP coo!"

That last string was Mermish, or so Lily guessed. She was a little too surprised to be sure. She sent an alarmed look toward James. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

They were seated on a sofa that was jammed in between stacks of books, a coffee table, and a small, comfortable-looking chair drowning in scraps of half-scribbled-on parchment. A small path had been cleared to the fireplace just several feet away, where a small cheerful fire burned in the grate. A white and orange cat lay basking in the warmth of the fire, purring, as Nicolas Flamel puttered around the cottage cursing, although theoretically he was fixing a pot of tea. Opera music warbled in the background.

This was one of the fine moments in Lily's life that made her wonder what in the world she was doing with it. How, exactly, had she gotten to this point in time, and why, exactly, was she sitting through it? People were dying, people were missing, people were frightened out of their knickers that tomorrow they would be next. War, everyone said, though the papers denied it. And terrible, too, because there was no way to alert the Muggles of their imminent danger, because Muggles had no idea what was happening--no idea that a person like Voldemort even existed--and furthermore it wasn't clear exactly who was in imminent danger and who wasn't. It...

Well, it was all very bleak, wasn't it? Lily's life had been very bleak lately. She'd lost her father, sister, and brother to the war only six months ago. Her friend Lin had lost her entire village to You-Know-Who's attack. Melody had been lost for two years in a world she had no right to be in, full of disgusting people like her uncle Hans and Lucifer Malfoy, and she never would have bothered with any of it if it hadn't been for Voldemort killing her father. Paolo had gone off looking for his father's killer--another victim of Voldemort's army--several days ago and had not yet returned, not even sent a message to let them know if he was all right. Lily herself had been kidnapped and murdered over Christmas holidays, but she couldn't actually be sure if that had anything to do with Voldemort; it was just really unpleasant to think about.

And yet here Lily was, sitting on a couch in a cottage with her boyfriend, watching a cat purring in the glow of a fireplace, waiting for a crazy old man to stop banging around his house cursing in Mermish so he could tell Lily and James what to do to avoid getting hung or burned or imprisoned when they went a thousand years back in time using an intensely powerful magical object they didn't know how to use in the hopes of tracking down the creator of the intensely powerful magical object they didn't know how to use so he could tell them how to use it, and perhaps they could ask him to stop making it splice people's souls, because Lily was well into her fourth day of inexplicable mood swings now and it was a little more than anyone could handle.

If this had been anyone's life but Lily's--or perhaps just Lily's life without James in it--she would have stared in bedazzled wonderment at the complete and utter ridiculousness of it all, and perhaps would have dared to step in and ask if everyone involved hadn't gone completely barmy, because what sense did this plan make, and what small chance of succeeding did it have anyway?

As it was, however, Lily simply sighed and fidgeted a bit, staring at the contented cat as it stretched out and then curled up again, completely at peace, unlike its owner, who was now over in one corner of the cottage banging around with pots and pans and cursing in a language that sounded vaguely like Japanese.

"James," she whispered, glancing over at her boyfriend, who was for some reason flipping through the pages of a book entitled Frond Face: How to Rid Your Skin of Bogs of Pimples, Warts, Age Spots, and Other Unsightly Signs of Humanity. Lily chose to ignore the book. "Do you have any idea what he's looking for?"

"Mm? Yeah," James said, flipping past a chapter entitled 'Nose Hairs are for the Frogs.' "He's looking for his wand."

"Oh."

Then, from a corner of the cottage came a great "A-HA!" and two teacups suddenly splattered into existence in midair in front of Lily and James, landing on the coffee table with a great clinking and clattering.

"Now," Nicolas Flamel said, emerging from behind a stack of books in what was presumably the kitchen. "Over tea. What the devil was it Al thought I could tell you?"

He meant Schmundertoe. Lily thought about how to answer this question as Flamel puttered about fixing the tea, nearly stepping on the cat in front of the fireplace several times as he did so. The cat barely flinched. James either sensed Lily's hesitation or had gotten bored reading about troll acne, because he set his book down and answered.

"We need information as accurate as possible about traveling into the past."

Flamel snorted, flicking his wand at the parchment-drowned chair. The parchment flew off in a great tizzy and Flamel plopped himself into it, ignoring the cascade of papers fluttering down around him. "And I'm a world-renowned time-traveler, am I?"

"No," James replied easily, snatching up a couple cubes of sugar from the dish that had appeared on the table with the tea. He popped one in his mouth and sucked on it a moment. "But you are one of the few people alive who has an extensive living knowledge of history spanning six centuries. At the very least you could give us some sense of what it will be like to enter into an era we are entirely unfamiliar with."

"So we don't get hanged," Lily added dumbly. How could James be so at ease when Flamel was so agitated? No, she thought a moment later, that's a stupid question. James thrived in this kind of environment. He lived to annoy people.

"What the deuce could I tell you about the time of the Founders, anyway?" Flamel grumbled, pouring honey into his tea and stirring vigorously. "What does Al think I am, a walking encyclopedia? I don't even know what they wore back then--four hundred years before I was born, you know--who keeps track of things that happened four centuries before they were born?--what does Al think--as though I have the slightest idea what the fashions are now, let alone a thousand years--I say!" He snapped his gaze toward Lily. "Young lady, do you have any idea what they wore four hundred years before you were born?"

Lily's teacup fell back onto its saucer with a surprised clatter. She glanced at James, and then back at Flamel. "Um...pantaloons?" she guessed.

Flamel snorted and let out a string of derisive-sounding comments in what Lily thought might have been Greek. Distressed, she looked over at James, who was laughing and trying not to choke on his sugar cube.

"At any rate, young lady," Flamel said, recovering, "you'd be wise not to travel that far back in time at all. Never know what could happen."

Lily sighed. "Yes, of course...but that's also sort of the point. We're here to try to get a good idea of what might happen. Isn't there anything you could tell us...anything at all?"

Flamel stirred his tea fervently. "Well for one thing, try to talk as little as possible. You go that far back, English won't be the same, not the same at all. You'll hardly be able to understand most of the normal folk, and even with the wizards it will be tricky. Might want to think about learning Middle English before you go. Er, or perhaps that's Old English...couldn't really tell you which...and--I say--when are you leaving?"

"Erm...tomorrow," Lily said.

"Galloping Gorgons," Flamel sputtered, and he proceeded to mutter a bit in Flemish. "Well, that's out. Just do your best then, if you insist on going. Unless you speak Latin, of course." Flamel perked up at this thought.

Lily had learned a little in grammar school, and understood the Latin behind most of the spells she knew, but it wasn't as though she could go around speaking it, so she shook her head sadly. James, however, and to her great surprise, nodded.

"Yeah, I could get by on it," he said, and Lily stared at him openly. He shrugged at her helplessly "What? Dad wanted me to know it. Said it'd be good for diplomacy."

"Your father thought a dead language would be good for diplomacy?"

James shrugged. "Hey, don't ask me how the man's mind works." He turned back to Flamel. "So you were saying...besides not talking to people...?"

"Don't cast any spells. In fact, if you can manage it, don't even bring your wands. People were suspicious of witchcraft back then, very suspicious, and any sign of it--very tricky to escape prosecution. On the other hand, if you do get caught and burned you'll need your wand...but a thousand years into the past is not someplace you want to lose your wand. Do you understand?"

Lily and James glanced at each other. Like hell they were leaving their wands behind.

"All right," Lily said, "go on. How d'you think we should go about getting around? Finding the people we need to find?"

Flamel shrugged. This did not seem to be a chief concern of his. "Walk," he suggested. "Or find a horse. A thousand years back in time, there aren't going to be a lot of roads, so chances are whatever road you do find is going to take you where you want to go." Flamel appeared to be suddenly distracted by something on his robes. "What--the little--itchy--no good--" He fiddled with the robe for a few minutes before finally flicking off what looked like a piece of lint. He looked up and resumed drinking his tea, as though this were completely normal. Lily glanced over at James, who appeared to have momentarily resumed his reading, this time skimming a chapter on boils.

Goodness, thought Lily, why are all the men in my life out of their minds?

"Well--er--then, sir, I guess our last question would have to be about clothing. I know you said," she added quickly, "that you didn't know all that much about it, but...do you know somebody who might?"

Lily didn't really want to go see someone else, but what choice did she have? She couldn't very well turn up a thousand years ago wearing something glaringly out-of-place and expect to get by unnoticed.

"I suppose you could ask my wife," Flamel said thoughtfully. "Oy! Perenelle!"

The cat on the hearth yawned and rolled over, stretching out for a moment before getting up and trotting over to Flamel's chair, looking up at him thoughtfully, ears perked. "You going to be helpful, or are you going to bask all day?" Flamel demanded.

The cat flicked its tail a few times, considering, before jumping into Flamel's lap, and then, quite suddenly, it wasn't a cat any longer.

"Don't be so grumpy," Nicholas Flamel's wife advised, kissing him on the cheek. "It's a lovely day."

Flamel tried to mutter something unhappily, but it came out sounding like a rather cheerful version of "umblewumble" instead.

"So my dears," said Perenelle, beaming over at Lily and James, "going back to the time of the Founders, are you? That sounds delightful. I always did enjoy time travel."

"Lovely?" Nicolas snorted. "Lovely if they get imprisoned or killed or destroy the current course of history..."

"Oh, hush up. That's not possible. If they're going to wreck the course of history, they're going to wreck the course of history, and there's nothing we can do about it now." She beamed at Lily and James once more. "But I'm sure you're not going to meddle. What are you going back for, dears?"

Lily and James traded a vaguely uneasy glance. What had Schmundertoe told the Flamels, anyway? Would they not want to help if they knew the truth? Why didn't old people communicate better?

"Well," Lily said slowly, reaching into her pocket, "we're going back because of this." She pulled out the small black box containing the necklace. She both wanted and didn't want to put it on again. What would happen if she did? What might happen to her if she didn't? As Lily opened the box to show the necklace to the Flamels, a mood swing claimed her again and she was overcome by a wave of confusion. Why was she going back in time, anyway? What would that prove? Why did she fear the necklace? It had saved her life! But then why did it almost kill her? How could someone enchant a necklace to save people and kill people? Oh, it just didn't make any sense!

Could the Flamels help her? Could they prevent her from being burned? Why would anyone burn her? What did people have against magic, anyway? Why did it seem like people were always after Lily? What had she ever done to anybody? And why didn't they speak regular old English a thousand years ago? Why Old English? And why the bloody hell did James know Latin, anyway? Honestly, what purpose did that serve? And why was Nicolas Flamel so grumpy? Honestly, it really was a lovely day, and why....

As Lily drowned in this wave of perplexity, both Flamels examined the necklace with interest. Nicolas squinted at it, his eyes sweeping over its form intensely, his face growing slightly paler as recognition sparked in his mind. Perenelle looked at it with wide eyes, leaning closer to get a better view.

"Oooh," she breathed, licking her lips at it hungrily. "Pretty."

Lily pulled the necklace back reflexively, surprised, and Perenelle leaned forward further, apparently fascinated by the shine the necklace gave off in the sunlight. Lily moved the necklace slightly to the left, and Perenelle's head followed it eagerly. Lily moved it to the right, with similar results. Why was Perenelle so fascinated with it? What was it about this stupid necklace that made people--

"Is that a Gryffindor heirloom?" Nicolas demanded.

What? How would he know that? Why did everyone in the bloody universe know more about Lily's necklace than Lily did, and why would Nicolas Flamel of all people--

"Er, we think so," James said, looking concerned at the way Lily's face had suddenly screwed up in frustration. She was so distracted she didn't notice that Perenelle was now batting at the shiny necklace, half-giggling, half-purring as it dangled back and forth, glinting and shimmering brightly in the sunlight.

"If that is what I think it is, then it's a very powerful and dangerous magical object," Nicolas said, his eyes wide and serious. He made this statement as thought it were monumental, but Lily and James were unimpressed.

"Erm...yes," James agreed. "That's why we want to go back in time. To figure out what all it can do, and how to stop it from--"

"But how do you know about the necklace?" Lily burst out suddenly, distressed. "Why does everyone seem to know something about this thing but me? Why am I the only one out of the loop? Why is it so powerful? And what good will going back in time do anyway? What if we can't find Godric Gryffindor? What if we end up in the wrong time period?" she wailed.

"Erm..." Nicolas said, alarmed.

"Why do people look at me like I'm crazy when really it's all the people I'm with who are crazy?" She looked over at James, who for some reason had decided that, rather than listen to Lily's rant, he'd pick up the Frond Face book again and read about a condition called Mermaid Mumps. "What is it with you and that STUPID BOOK?" she howled.

At that moment, Perenelle decided to grab hold of the necklace, and she promptly got her fingers tangled up in its chain.

"Why does she have my necklace?" Lily demanded. "Why does she like shiny things so much? Why is everyone looking at me like that? Does anyone here have any idea what we're doing? Why doesn't life make any sense?" she wailed, and burst into tears.

They all blinked at her dumbly, even Perenelle, who sheepishly detangled her fingers from the necklace and gently set it back in its black velvet box.

"Erm," James said awkwardly, patting Lily on the back. "Don't mind her," he advised the Flamels. "She gets like this sometimes."

"But why?" Lily wailed from behind her hands.

They fidgeted through another moment of uncomfortable silence.

Just then, Albus Dumbledore walked through the door.

Bellatrix was drunk again, splayed out across the floor, a bottle of wine in one hand and the mysterious dagger in the other. She'd been using it to kill things all day...bugs, vermin, the neighbor's cat. It hadn't occurred to her that it would be impossible to change something back from stone. If you could change something to stone, she thought, you should be able to unchange it.

Not so. There was no hope for Siegfried, who was in the next room, now a lifeless statuary slowly crumbling into a pile of sand. Bellatrix had been able to do little with the several creatures she'd turned to stone, although she did manage to blow up several of the mice. But none of that could turn Siegfried back.

Bellatrix was lost. Her plan for redemption had failed miserably; her only consolation was that the Dark Lord seemed to be largely unaware of her attempt to steal the enchanted necklace, and even if he was aware, he didn't seem to have much interest in it. Bellatrix was a fairly good Occlumens these days, though, so chances were he didn't know. Not that she wanted to trick him, of course, but for her own sake there were things he was better off not knowing, and this whole ridiculous escapade was one of them.

That it would result in Siegfried's death, though...that Bellatrix could not have imagined. Siegfried's death didn't seem to be directly correlated to trying to steal the necklace, of course, but...but had Bellatrix not driven Siegfried to do this thing...had she not driven him to drinking and drinking and drinking...if she hadn't pushed him away, hadn't pushed him to the bars and the whores...who knew? If she hadn't done everything she insisted on doing, maybe Siegfried would be here right now, enjoying with Bellatrix this bottle of...of...blast it, what was this bottle of? Bellatrix rolled it over in her hands and squinted at the label, blurry to her inebriated eyes. Chardonnay, it looked like. Good cheap shit. Good for getting cheaply shitfaced.

Not that Rodolphus really needed to worry much about the cost of wine. He had a marvelously wonderful and expensive flat, and had Bellatrix not been depressed out of her mind, she would have been enjoying its luxuriousness.

As it was, however, she had a death on her conscience. She was responsible for a lot of deaths, of course, but this was the first one she'd ever cared about. The Dark Lord would not be pleased. And Bellatrix...well, besides having to deal with that, she...she hadn't quite anticipated it hurting this much. Was this a sign of weakness? The Dark Lord did not approve of weaknesses.

Bellatrix tipped the bottle to her mouth and chugged. The alcohol sent a shiver through her body, and she set it down, rolling onto her back, holding the dagger well over her head, contemplating it through her blurry eyes. It would be so easy...if she just let it fall, she...

Well, what a pointless waste that would be. Bellatrix let it clatter to the floor beside her and put both her hands to her forehead. She was well beyond drunk now. She could feel her insides burning, her head spinning in a rush of dizziness that she used to find exhilarating. Now it all just screamed of wanting to escape. But even drunk, Bellatrix couldn't escape from her thoughts. They weren't gone, they were just distorted. It took more effort to think, certainly, but what else did Bellatrix have to busy herself with? She moaned softly and rolled back over, grabbing the bottle again, squeezing her eyes shut as she took another undignified chug out of it, drink dribbling out onto her chin and her neck as tears trickled out of her eyes.

An unexpected voice came from the other side of the couch Bellatrix was splayed out next to.

"Bella," Rodolphus said, sounding unexpectedly soft and concerned. Bellatrix flopped one of her arms over her face to hide her shame.

She heard Rodolphus setting several things down, and then he walked around the couch to crouch down next to her. He lifted her head and set it on his lap before reaching over and gently removing the bottle from her hands.

"You're in a bad way, aren't you?" he murmured, smoothing Bellatrix's hair away from her face. Bellatrix didn't answer, just squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to blubber. "Come on," he said, pulling her off the floor. She let him half-drag, half-carry her over to the kitchen table, where he set her down and gave her a large glass of water. She didn't really want water, but she drank it anyway. It felt better going down than the chardonnay, which was unexpected, and somewhere in her inebriated mind she knew that it was good for her.

Rodolphus left the table briefly and came back with some tissues, one of which he used to carefully wipe off Bellatrix's face. The rest he pressed into her hand, and she used them to dab at the unconscious tears still leaking out of her eyes.

"Look, Bella," Rodolphus said, settling into the chair opposite her with a glass of pumpkin juice, "I know you were with Siegfried for a while. I know you were close. But...he was young, Bella. He was rash. He didn't really know what he was doing and I think in the end maybe you were a little too much for him."

What was he saying? Bellatrix only half-understood the words. Her poor, depressed, drunken brain was so worn out from trying to reverse the dagger's spell and mourning over Siegfried that she couldn't quite follow Rodolphus. She wasn't quite sure she cared to. So she didn't say anything, just sipped her glass of water dumbly and wished for the pain to be over.

"You're much more grown up than Siegfried ever was, anyway," Rodolphus continued, looking a little less sure of himself. "But, really Bella--I mean, what I'm trying to say--" He cut himself off and stopped to take another drink of pumpkin juice. "He couldn't take care of you. He didn't know how to."

"He didn't have to," Bellatrix mumbled, vaguely indignant through her stupor. "I can take care of myself."

Rodolphus considered her current state for a moment and raised his eyebrows. He was silent so long Bellatrix noticed, and she snorted unhappily.

"You caught me on a bad day," she muttered, and sucked down more water.

Still, though, as Bellatrix sat there recovering, Rodolphus bringing her more water as needed and even fixing her something to eat, it occurred to her that she'd had more days like this than she cared to think about, and that Siegfried usually couldn't do much to help her because he was in a similar state himself. Things hadn't always been like that, of course, but even so...Rodolphus did seem to be doing a better job of taking care of her than Siegfried ever had.

And what did that mean, now that Siegfried was dead? Did it mean she was finding the relationship with a member of the Lestrange family that she always should have had? Or was Rodolphus just taking advantage of her now that his cousin was gone?

And what did it mean, exactly, that after Rodolphus had fed and sobered her and tucked her into bed with one soft kiss on the cheek, she slept better than she had in months?

This was it. Doomsday. Melody hesitated outside the indoor gardens for a moment, and then bravely stepped forward to face her fate.

Maybe it wasn't as bad as all that. Perhaps Melody was being dramatic. That happened. But still, what she was about to do would not be fun, and it could or could not turn out to be the worst decision she ever made. She was going to confront Sirius about everything, one last time, lay it all out in the open--everything about Hans, Lucifer Malfoy, and herself--and see what he did with it. No more lies, no more secrets. It wasn't worth it. She missed Sirius. Missed the way they used to be together. Goofy, ridiculous. If this was the only chance she had of getting that back...it was more than worth it to take it.

Sirius was in the gardens somewhere, sulking. Lily and James insisted on going alone to meet Nicolas Flamel, and for once Sirius couldn't manage to weasel his way into going. Apparently the necklace's spell couldn't take any more than two people back in time at once, and Sirius was the odd man out. Melody didn't feel much sympathy for him; after all, she'd been pretty much left out from the beginning, and she was supposed to be Lily's best friend.

But never mind that. There were more important things to deal with. And Lily and James, generally speaking, could take care of themselves.

Melody poked around the gardens until she found him, sitting on a log on the beach.

"Hey you," she said, lowering herself gently onto the log.

Sirius took a moment to look over, and when he did his eyes still had that hazy look about them that came from being lost deeply in thought. He gave her a brief smile and took one of her hands in his, kissing the back of it before turning his gaze back to the fake ocean that lay before them. They sat like that for a long while, watching the waves wash up on shore, and Melody tried not to feel agitated or concerned or worried about what would happen when she finally told Sirius everything she'd decided to tell him. She just sat and enjoyed the feel of his fingers laced with hers. It was astounding, really, how the simple act of holding hands and being able to sit in a comfortable silence with someone could mean just as much as kissing, or talking, or cuddling.

Eventually Sirius finished his train of thought and looked back over at Melody, who let him examine her for a moment before she returned his gaze.

"You look good," Sirius commented.

Melody raised an eyebrow. "As opposed to how I usually look?"

Sirius was unfazed. "You always look beautiful. But today you look...good."

"Oh." Melody supposed that was a good thing. It was good she didn't look queasy or restless or bothered. "How d'you mean, exactly?"

"You look like...you," Sirius said, shrugging. "No make-up, no poofy hairstyle, no ridiculous robes..."

Melody pouted. "I thought you liked me all dolled up."

"You're gorgeous then, of course. But I love you like this, too. When you're just...you."

Melody grinned and took hold of Sirius's other hand. He was so good at being sappy when he wanted to be. But she couldn't let him go on like this or she'd lose her nerve. She sighed and examined their intertwined hands.

"Sirius," she said softly, hoping intensely that this wasn't the last time she'd be able to sit with him like this, "there are some things I probably ought to tell you."

Sirius tensed, and he squeezed her hands. "Yeah," he agreed. "There probably are."

He waited for her to speak, for her to move, for her to look at him. Melody seized up for a moment, terrified. This was it. She would tell him everything and he'd never want to speak to her again. She'd never be able to touch him or kiss him or look at him or--

"You were right," she blurted. "About me. About everything. I...." She could already feel herself starting to cry. No. No. Not yet. She breathed out slowly, for composure, and kept her eyes closed as she spoke. She didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to know what he thought of her. Not quite yet.

"Lucifer Malfoy wants to marry me," she said quietly, hoping he wouldn't hear her.

He didn't jerk in surprise or try to pull away from her. Instead he squeezed her hands and stared at her until she opened her eyes. She was surprised to see that he looked worried.

"Melody," he said, his eyebrows creased, his face intense, his posture agitated. "He didn't ask you--I mean, you didn't actually consider--"

"No! No. I mean--God no, of course not, I could never--" she cut herself off and shook her head, disturbingly aware of the way Sirius's reassuring worry made her heart skip, jump, and hop a few beats. "He didn't ask me anything, Sirius. He just said he'd--he'd never blackmail me into doing anything. He said he thought I'd choose to marry him of my own free will."

"And what did he offer you?" Sirius demanded, still suspicious.

"He...." Melody tried not to think of how disgustingly cocky he'd been. Of how he'd spoken of Sirius. Of all the things he'd known about her that she hadn't expected him to know. "He offered me things. Money. Possessions. A chance at power. Anything he could buy, really. But--Sirius, he didn't offer me anything real. He just tried to convince me that I was ready to get married, that he could offer me things you couldn't, that you weren't ready, and I--"

Now Sirius did jerk in surprise. "How the bloody hell," Sirius demanded, "does that bastard know anything about you and me?"

Melody shook her head helplessly. "I don't know. He must have found out something from Hans. Anyway it doesn't matter, Sirius, because I'm not--"

"And what the bloody hell does he know about what I think?" Sirius fumed. "What kind of presumptuous meathead goes around telling people what he thinks other people think, especially when he doesn't know a damn thing about those people, and he--"

"Sirius, please. It doesn't matter. I'm not going to marry him."

Sirius shook his head and stared at her. "I still don't understand why you even bothered--why you couldn't just leave with me--why you thought--"

"Look, Sirius, I'm still in debt to him. Well, I mean, I'm in debt to Hans, but now he owns everything of Hans's, so I'm in debt to him. It's only because he decided to be benevolent that he's not forcing me to repay everything I owe. If he invites me to lunch, I think it's only right and fair that I go."

"What? Melody, have you lost your mind? Don't you get it--he--he's not being benevolent, he's just trying to use you--trying to trick you--he doesn't care about you, he--" Sirius cut himself off, thinking furiously. "Look, what I'm saying is--it's bullshit what your uncle did to you in the first place. You didn't owe him a damn cent and the only reason you bothered trying to repay him is because he blackmailed you. And now you're saying you owe Malfoy something, when you never took anything from him--never took advantage of him in any way--never knew him, really, until your uncle introduced you to him, and even then that only happened because Malfoy essentially owns your uncle now. But--but damn it, Melody, that doesn't matter, because neither of them own you, and you don't owe either of them a goddamn cent or minute of your time, and the only way they can make you repay them anything is if they take you to court over it, which they're not going to do because they don't have shit to build a case on. They're just exploiting you because you're a good person, and trying to make you believe that the people you actually trust and care for aren't going to be there for you when you need them, and--damn it, Melody--what does Malfoy know about you and me anyway?"

Melody looked stubbornly at the ground. He was right--some small part of her knew it--but she couldn't just give up on Malfoy. Couldn't. "Look, Sirius," she said softly after a minute. "I know all that. But--but Malfoy might lead me to him, don't you see? If knowing Malfoy can somehow help me get to You-Know-Who, I don't want to give that up."

"Melody," Sirius said, half gentle, half exasperated. "There are other ways. Better ways. Safer ways. Ways that don't involve people trying to screw with your personal life. And--and look, it isn't as though you can defeat You-Know-Who all by yourself. It's going to take a whole mess of people. And I just don't--I don't think Malfoy's on the same side we are. You should just give it all up on that side and then we can stand together."

Sirius tilted Melody's face up toward his, and she looked at him, considering.

It was a beautiful thought. It really was. She agreed with Sirius, really, about Malfoy not being on the same side as them. He couldn't be all bad, surely, but he wasn't all good either, and if he was promising to help Melody, well--anyone fighting Voldemort would need inside tips, wouldn't they? Undercover sort of people? It wouldn't hurt having Lucifer as a friend. Well not a friend, perhaps, but certainly a contact. Someone to get information from that you simply couldn't get anywhere else. That seemed too valuable to lose, even with all the risks.

She tried to convey this to Sirius. "Think of all the ways he could help us, even if he doesn't mean to. We could get information from him. I could try to sort of--spy on him, or something."

Sirius shook his head. "You can't trust him. It would be so easy for him to leave you fake clues, to lie, to hurt instead of help. Melody, please--it's not worth it. You shouldn't even think about going back to see him."

Melody stared back at the ground again, thinking. "Sirius," she said slowly, "was he right about you?"

Sirius's eyes narrowed. "What d'you mean, right about me?"

"About you wanting to get married."

Sirius stared at her blankly for a moment. "Melody...you can't seriously tell me you've--you've--you've been thinking about marriage. I mean--bloody hell--we're only seventeen."

Melody's eyes fell on their hands again. "I know," she said softly. "But...but we are of age."

"Melody...please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not saying I want to get married, Sirius. You can relax if you think that's what I'm trying to tell you."

"Well then what are you trying to tell me?"

"I just...want to know we're going somewhere. That...you know, maybe someday, if you could see yourself...I mean, you and me...you know what I mean."

Sirius breathed out heavily. Was he relieved now, or more concerned? "Look, Melody, I--I love you, all right?"

Melody nodded.

"And I...well, I mean, we're still so young. I don't want to even think about...well, I just said that, didn't I? What I mean to say is...."

Melody stared at him and tried to figure out what thoughts were bouncing around inside his head.

"I don't like to think of my life without you," he managed finally. "I want to be with you, I just can't think about--about the long term."

Well, that was the truth anyway. Melody nodded and squeezed Sirius's hands. "All right," she said.

Sirius, looking very relieved, leaned over to kiss her, but Melody turned her head and his lips landed on her cheek instead.

"Sirius, there's something else I should probably tell you."

He pulled away, looking suspicious. "Yes?"

"It's about...it's about your family's money."

"Albus!" Perenelle cried, delighted. She leapt off her husband's lap to embrace Dumbledore, who greeted her warmly.

Nicolas merely nodded and said, "Evening, Albus."

"Good evening," Dumbledore said, smiling. "I hope you don't mind...?" Without waiting for an answer from the Flamels, he conjured a chair for himself and settled into it comfortably, somehow squishing it between the coffee table and the never-ending stacks of books without much effort.

"P--p--professor!" Lily sputtered, surprised beyond eloquence. What was he doing here?

"Good evening, Miss Evans, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore replied pleasantly, nodding at them. "No doubt you are surprised to see me. Ah, thank you, Nicolas." Flamel conjured a cup of tea for him, along with a bowl of what looked like lemon drops. "I have come to help you perform the time travel spell," Dumbledore continued. "Al wrote me a very nice owl informing me that two of my brightest students were planning to go so far into the past that they might never return to their own time. I, of course, decided that this plan needed a little more supervision, and so here I am. Lemon drop?"

Lily shook her head, ignoring the proffered candy. What did he mean, never return? Schmundertoe appeared to have skipped over that little detail.

"I thought the necklace's time travel spell would be able to bring us back quite close to the time we left," she said, perplexed--though, luckily, the surge of intense confusion she'd felt just moments earlier seemed to have ebbed.

"Yes, that is true," Dumbledore agreed. "Al tried to tell me as much. The problem is, of course, that when you are traveling through a thousand years of history, your concept of accuracy tends to alter. An accurate time of return for the traveler moving back and forth between hours and days might be measured in minutes. For travelers jumping through millennia at a time, accuracy can rarely be measured in increments smaller than years. You would be able to return to this century, I'm sure, but to come back to the right date and time is much trickier."

Lily and James stared at him. This problem had not yet occurred to them, and seemed far more pressing than the question of whether or not pantaloons were a popular fashion item in the mid-900's.

"Oh," Lily said after a moment.

"Having second thoughts?" Nicolas asked. "That's a good sign. You can't be too careful about these things, you know."

"I trust that they are giving the proper consideration to everything," Dumbledore said reassuringly. He looked over at Lily, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the light. Perenelle was so dazzled by the shine she nearly fell out of her chair. "After some correspondence with Al, I believe that this is of extreme importance. Otherwise, as you can imagine, I would not allow it."

Lily nodded. She wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not. "Professor--is there any way to make sure we return to the right place and time?"

"I cannot promise complete accuracy, but there is something we can do to help anchor you to a certain time and place. Leave a guide behind for you, if you will. With the help of such an anchor, you should be able to guide yourselves back to the present time without too much fuss...and hopefully, if everything goes well, in time for the start of term." Dumbledore took a long sip of tea. "I also came to impress upon you the importance of accomplishing everything you need to accomplish as quickly as possible."

"So we don't get in trouble in the past?" Lily wondered.

"It is indeed advisable to avoid getting burned or imprisoned. However, what I urge you to consider is the reality that no matter how accurately you manage to land yourselves back in the present, it cannot reverse anything that happens to you while you are visiting the past."

"Oh, I see," Lily murmured, thinking. "So if--if we're there for a while, then we'll age, won't we? And when we come back we'll be older, but everyone around us will look the same. Yes. Yes, I see."

Dumbledore nodded once at her, and then glanced at James, who nodded back.

"Very well then. Nicolas, Perenelle, and I will do the best we can to help you prepare. You are leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes," James replied.

"Then we must work quickly."

Sirius didn't ask why Melody wanted to talk to him about his family's money. She strongly suspected he already knew.

Rarely had Sirius looked at her so harshly. His dark brown eyes were steady, stoic, but underneath that Melody could sense buried anger and frustration. Disappointment. It was all Melody's fault. All her fault. And they both knew it.

There was simply no way to make this pretty, so Melody just let her words come out in a frantic, terrified, jumbled mess.

"Sirius, the reason my mind changed so suddenly around Halloween is because I realized that my uncle needed me for something--needed me for money, yes, but something else too, and he--he couldn't--he couldn't just get rid of me. And I thought, well, maybe I have more power here than I thought I did...maybe I can do something about this...so I thought, well, why don't I try to take things into my own hands more? What does he say he really wants from me? Money. So why don't I give him some money? Well I don't have any money, so maybe I'll sell these watches, and then that didn't work, so--"

"So then you just thought, 'why don't I try to rip some of it off Sirius instead?' Is that how it went?"

Melody stared at him, horrified. "Sirius--Sirius, no. This...this is coming out all wrong."

"Maybe," Sirius said slowly, "that's because it is all wrong." He pulled his hands out of hers and turned away.

Melody's hands, which just moments before had been curled up safely inside Sirius's, were now clutching harsh, scratchy bark, and goose bumps sprung up all the places her hands had just been touching his. No, Melody moaned inwardly. This is not how I want this to end. Her chest contracted, and she took a great heaving breath to try to expand it again, but it didn't help. She couldn't get rid of the tight, sick feeling. She couldn't shake the sensation that something wonderful was about to be destroyed.

Tears leaked out of her eyes. She didn't want Sirius to see her turn into a blubbering idiot, but she couldn't stop herself from crying. She was about to lose the best thing she'd ever had--and she wasn't even sure she'd had it long enough to claim it as hers.

"Sirius--Sirius, please, you have to at least listen to me."

"I'm still sitting here, aren't I?" Sirius replied, his voice low and hollow, his gaze fixed pointedly at the fake sea stretching before them.

Melody nodded, and turned her gaze straight ahead. Maybe it was too much to hope that he'd start looking at her again. "I--I never meant for any of this to hurt you. I'm not even sure I ever really would have gone after your family's money in the first place. At the time it was just...justification, more than anything else."

"Justification for what? For the way you treated me? The way you treated Mimi?"

That bit about Mimi was unfair. Sirius wasn't exactly guiltless on that account, but now wasn't exactly the time to call him out for it. "For finally deciding to fight for you," Melody managed, somewhat lamely. Sirius snorted. Melody frowned, now feeling both hurt and annoyed. But now wasn't the time to start fighting with Sirius. Now was the time to grovel.

"Sirius, my uncle was planning to marry me off to some rich bastard for money--anyone at all. I couldn't handle the thought of him deciding my fate like that. So--so I tried to take it into my own hands, selling those fake watches with Mundungus and generally being stupid about everything. It didn't work--didn't even come close to working--and when my uncle found out what I'd been doing, he scared me half to death yelling at me over it, threatening my family, and that was when I realized--he needed me. He was so desperate he'd do just about anything for money, and I guess he thought that using me was the only way to get it. I only realized a couple weeks before Halloween how desperate he was. It seems like it should have been obvious from the beginning, especially after everything else I've told you, but believe me, Sirius...I was so clueless."

"So then, in all your utter cluelessness, you thought, 'Hey, why don't I take advantage of Sirius--he's got money!'"

"No. Please stop saying it like that."

"Well how would you say it? Because so far you haven't said a damn thing about it."

"I would say it like--like--damn it, Sirius, like if I had to get married to someone, I might as well pick him out myself. And if he had to be rich, well then, it just so happened that I--"

"That you knew some gullible sap who fit the bill?"

Melody looked over at Sirius and realized how upset he was. Not just angry or disgusted, but--hurt. She could see the little muscles working along his jaw as he clenched and unclenched it, staring very pointedly straight ahead and blinking so rapidly that Melody thought he might--

"Damn it, Sirius," she snapped. "That's not what it was about. It was about--if I was going to have to marry someone rich anyway, then I might as well marry you, because--"

"Because you thought you could get away with it?" Sirius thundered, finally twisting around to face her. Melody was too agitated to recoil. Instead, she brought her face closer to his and screamed at him.

"Because I was already in love with you!"

Sirius was stunned. Melody felt a deep jolt of inner satisfaction at his response. She was still terrified as hell that Sirius would leave her, and she didn't think she'd handled that conversation well at all, but anyway there it was. It was all out in the open, and if her relationship with Sirius crashed and burned, at least it wasn't because she'd kept lying to him.

Sirius stared at Melody so long she fidgeted. Couldn't he at least say something? Didn't he have an opinion or a rebuke or a...wisely chosen curse word? Didn't he--

Sirius chose that moment to respond. He, quite suddenly, appeared to have worked everything out in his mind, and he decided to take action.

He grabbed Melody and kissed her. Melody nearly died.

It wasn't one of those 'we should still be friends' kind of kisses. It wasn't an 'I forgive you' kiss or a 'try not to be so stupid next time' kiss, or even a 'let's try to work things out' kind of kiss. In fact, the kiss appeared to have nothing to do with the conversation they'd been having for the last fifteen minutes, and it completely ignored the fact that they'd been fighting just seconds earlier.

It was a full-blown heartbeat-skipping, goose-bump-giving, 'put your arms around me, forget that the rest of the world exists, and kiss me like I'm more precious than your last breath on Earth' kind of kiss.

Melody wrapped herself around him and tried to kiss away everything she'd done.

They pulled apart slowly, sluggishly, reluctantly. They held each other close, foreheads touching, breath mingling, hearts pounding.

"Sirius," Melody whispered. "Are we really okay?"

"I don't see how we couldn't be okay," Sirius said, grinning and kissing her again.

"Sirius. I mean it. A few minutes ago you wouldn't even look at me."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "Yeah, we're fine." He leaned back and considered her face for a moment. "I have something for you."

He helped Melody to disentangle herself from him and eased her gently onto the log next to him. "Accio!" he said, pulling out his wand, and then they waited.

A package came zooming through the indoor gardens, and Sirius batted it out of the air reflexively.

Melody grinned. "Beater reflexes, huh? Swat at it instead of trying to catch it."

Sirius shrugged. "Guess so."

"I hope whatever's in there isn't breakable."

"Should be fine. Here," he said, handing the small gift bag over. "It's sort of a late Christmas present."

Melody looked at him curiously and took the bag. What else could he possibly have to give her? She rifled through the tissue paper and pulled out a package of...lollipops?

"Wow," she said, laughing as she recognized them. They were the old color-changing ones that used to wreak havoc on her hair. "What are you trying to say, Sirius? You don't like my blonde hair anymore?" she teased.

Sirius grinned. "I think I'm saying...welcome back."

Just minutes after Melody and Sirius began kissing, Lily and James toppled into existence on the front lawn of Potter's Cottage, wearing stained, ripped, outdated robes and gasping for breath. Hands shaking, Lily pulled the necklace off James's neck and coaxed it back to its original size around her own. That done, she wiggled closer to James and rested her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her and gave a great sigh, and they both promptly fell asleep.

"All right," Dumbledore said. "Don't forget your anchor. And good luck."

Lily and James looked at him nervously. Lily nodded, and ran her fingers along the thin golden chain strung around her and James's necks. It was the first time she'd worn the necklace since she'd...

Well then. Off to the past. Off to figure out what made this bloody thing so powerful.

"Ready?" she asked, turning to James. He nodded, and they both put their fingers on the necklace's pendant, holding it carefully between them, holding their wands steady above it.

"Tiempo Veritas," they chanted, and promptly disappeared.

The Lily and James on the front lawn were not the same Lily and James who had just disappeared a thousand years into the past. They were a month older, a month wiser, a month more exhausted, and a month more in love. To their friends, it would appear as though they'd come back before they left and there was no lapse in time at all. To Lily and James, the whole world looked different, full of things they hadn't seen, touched, tasted, heard, or smelled in over thirty days. They could tell their friends what happened in the past, what they'd done, what they'd learned, but they could never quite explain what had changed in them. How they'd changed toward each other.

They could, however, tell them everything Godric Gryffindor had told them about the necklace.

"Really? Are we really back in school again? Does break have to be over so soon?" Mimi moaned on Monday after lunch, contemplating her recently assigned pile of Charms homework. She was headed out of the Great Hall with Lily and James.

Lily and James looked at each other wearily. "That was the longest Christmas break ever," they said in unison.

"Ohmigod, stop doing that, it freaks me out." Melody grimaced, coming up behind them with Sirius.

"What?" Lily and James asked.

"Did you have your minds melded when you were in the past?" Sirius demanded.

"Sorry," they said, shrugging.

"Gah!" Melody responded, and Sirius patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"So when do we get to hear your daring tale of adventure to the past?" Mimi asked, putting away the Charms homework.

Lily and James both sighed, and Sirius became oddly stiff. Any time anyone mentioned time travel, Lily and James sagged like they'd been beaten down, and Sirius tensed, visibly jealous that he hadn't been able to tag along.

Lily and James appeared to be having a long, silent conversation. Had they learned mind reading while they were in the past, or were they just on a wire with each other in a way that they hadn't been before?

Finally, James sighed and said, "We'll tell you this weekend."

"Or start telling you, anyway," Lily amended.

"MHQ," James decided. "We'll let you know the new password on Friday."

"You're changing the password again?" Mimi asked.

James shrugged. "It's Peter's turn to pick."

"Ah," Mimi said. "Well, it's off to the Divination tower for me. I'll see you all later."

"Bye," they all murmured, and she set off by herself.

MHQ this weekend, eh? Well, that would be interesting. It would be the first real time they'd all be there together as couples. It was weird, a little, that all the Marauders now had girlfriends. As far as Mimi knew, that had never happened before. They'd never all been in relationships at once.

But that was how Hogwarts was these days. There were more sudden relationships, surprise engagements, and hurried marriages than ever before. And not just here--throughout the rest of the wizarding world as well. Something about the constant terror in the air seemed to draw people closer. Not only that--it caused people to pull their close friends closer and trust them more, and to push away those they knew less well or felt they couldn't trust. On the other side of all the lovey-dovey was intense paranoia. The world was rapidly becoming a very confusing place.

James and Lily, on the one hand, seemed closer than they'd ever been. They were almost always in close physical proximity to one another, and yet they didn't seem to be sneaking off for snog sessions quite as much as before. Mimi hoped that an explanation of their journey through the past would help explain that, but maybe it wouldn't. Maybe their relationship had fundamentally altered in a way that Mimi simply couldn't grasp.

Mimi herself had never been past the initial stages of a relationship. The farthest she'd ever gotten was the lovey-dovey stage, and after that things always seemed to turn sour. Her relationship with Sirius, for example, started smoothly and ended sloppily. She deeply hoped her relationship with Remus would not follow that pattern.

Remus was different than Sirius, in so many ways. He was quieter, obviously, and more reserved. But he was just as smart--just as funny--just as sweet. Perhaps more sweet, because he generally preferred talking to kissing, and hand-holding to overt displays of physical affection. Part of that was, perhaps, because of his appearance. Mysterious scratches still appeared all over his body once a month, and he didn't enjoy having people touch them, accidentally or no. But...but Mimi was hoping to work through that with him. She hoped to help him with it, to help him heal, not just emotionally, but also--

There was no cure. There just wasn't. Mimi would have been daft to try and find one. But there had to be something she could do--some way to make it better--less painful, or less...noticeable, maybe? At the very least she could find something to help heal the scratches. Wasn't that possible?

It was a real shame Mimi wasn't better at Potions. If only she understood it the way Lily did, maybe she wouldn't feel so helpless and ridiculous puttering around with her cauldron in the dead of the night trying to think up some sort of solution. How did you know, anyway, how long things were supposed to boil? Which way to stir the spoon? When to add the next ingredients? It was all very well and good to follow the directions in a book, but how exactly did anyone figure out by themselves the correct ingredients for something as complicated as a potion?

Mimi hadn't been able to manage anything yet, not really--in fact, she'd been afraid to try any real potions of her own. Instead she'd spent several late nights poring over introductory potions volumes, trying to figure out the methodology behind the simplest healing potion she could find. What, exactly, made it effective, and what, exactly, did it help the body to do?

Because that was the thing about potions. You ingested them. They worked their magic inside the body, altering the senses and perception and affecting various biological processes to produce a sometimes miraculous effect. It was so much more--more--scientific than the other forms of magic. More Muggle-like. Mimi wondered why she didn't feel more comfortable and familiar with it than, say, Divination, which was perhaps its exact opposite within the field of magic. Logic versus intuition, perfection versus interpretation.

But never mind that. Mimi had to go to class, and she halfway wondered if she shouldn't just drop the whole thing and let Remus deal with everything in his own time.

On the other hand, however...how could she just sit there and watch him suffer?

The much-anticipated Saturday arrived, and all the Marauders and their girlfriends crowded into MHQ to hear Lily and James's highly heroic and detailed account of the past.

"We left and came back and we didn't die," Lily began.

"How illuminating," Melody said, rolling her eyes and sucking on a lollipop. Streaks of mustard yellow appeared in her hair. Lily pouted in her general direction.

Lily and James were perched on the tabletop, their feet resting on the abandoned chairs. Melody was lounging on top of Sirius on one end of the couch, and Mimi and Remus were sitting comfortably side-by-side on the couch's two remaining cushions. Peter and Sophie occupied a large squishy armchair by the fire. The wall of chamber pots gleamed happily in the background.

Lily found it somewhat odd to be telling this story to Sophie, whom no one but Peter seemed to know very well, but it wasn't as though they could tell her not to come, not when James, Sirius, and Remus all had their girlfriends present as well. Sophie was, at least, far more comfortable in their presence than she had been after spending that week at Potter's Cottage, but it was difficult to get to know her very well because Lily only ever spoke to her when they were with a large group of people. She was nice enough, though, and she didn't seem like the sort of person who would go around blurting things to people. And anyway they didn't quite have to tell her everything they knew--with any luck, they wouldn't get to the part of the story where they found out everything about the necklace today, and Lily wouldn't have to spill out a lot of personal information in front of someone she hardly knew.

"Right. Well," James said, taking charge. "It all really started with Schmundertoe."

He launched into a brief explanation of everything the jeweler had told them about the time travel spell, and went on to describe their visit with Nicolas Flamel, Dumbledore's unexpected appearance, and their creation of an anchor outside Potter's Cottage to help guide Lily and James back to the correct time when they wanted to return to the future. James had a rapt audience. The only occasional distractions came when Mimi blew a particularly large bubble with her Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, or when Melody's hair happened to turn a particularly grotesque shade of green.

Then they got to the good stuff.

"We decided to leave from Potter's Cottage and try to go a thousand years back in time without changing location," Lily explained, "because a thousand years ago, there was another structure being built right where Potter's Cottage stands today."

"A much larger structure," James added. "And much older."

"Much more impressive, and much better fortified," Lily agreed.

"And something that would hopefully lead us right to Godric Gryffindor himself."

Sirius, who could tell what they were leading up to, said, "Oh, get on with it."

Lily and James glared at him and then glanced at each other before turning to the group and saying, "Gryffindor's Castle" in unison.

"Tiempo Veritas."

The time travel spell took hold of them almost immediately. The world swirled away around them, and they were sucked downward, downward, downward--no, more like backward, backward, backward. Lily felt like she was being whirled and squeezed through some small opening, almost like--almost like she was being flushed down a toilet and then forced through the tiny pipes of time. What a gross analogy to think of when you were being squished through time and space. She couldn't see James anymore, couldn't feel him, couldn't feel much of anything, really, except the slight pressure of the thin golden chain around her neck.

They were suspended in this state of being for quite a while--for so long that Lily nearly forgot where she was, forgot what she was doing, forgot to worry about whether she could see or smell or feel or hear anything. But then, quite suddenly, the pressure increased. Lily felt like she was being squeezed by some giant invisible hand, and suddenly there were colors swirling all around her, spinning in a confusing whirl of greens and blues and reds and other hues Lily couldn't quite name, and then suddenly, with a small pop, Lily flew forward, out of the time hole, and smacked face-first against the ground.

It took a moment for her to open her eyes, and even then, the world was still dizzy. It took another several moments to realize James was right beside her, splayed out in much the same manner she was, looking exhausted.

How could he be exhausted? They hadn't even done anything yet.

Lily tried to move, but found that her limbs were heavy and her body was reluctant to do much of anything. She was mysteriously exhausted as well.

This does not bode well, Lily decided. They'd been in the past for less than a minute and already they were too worn out to do anything.

Where were they, anyway? Just lying in the middle of a field somewhere? Lily couldn't see much of anything from her line of sight, but perhaps that was because James's head and ridiculously unruly hair (which was sticking up in wild tufts) were blocking her view. This was no good, no good at all.

Lily sincerely hoped they were near Gryffindor's Castle, or at least the future site of it, because if they weren't they would have no idea where they were at all, and could very well wander around for days looking for something--anything--that resembled civilization.

"James," Lily murmured, trying to keep her eyes open. "You awake?"

"Mmph," James grunted, and rolled over--or tried to. The necklace chain was still around his neck, and he was rolling in the opposite direction of Lily, which resulted in James nearly choking himself and Lily giving a great yelp of surprise. This, at least, woke Lily and James up, and propelled them into a sitting position, where they removed the necklace from James's neck, and Lily pulled out her wand to shrink the necklace back to its original size.

"So," Lily said, sighing as she tucked her wand back into her robes, "d'you have any idea where we are? Because I don't see any--what? What are you looking at?"

James didn't respond to Lily. He wasn't even looking at her. He was staring past her with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging like someone had just hit him on the back of the head with a Bludger.

"James, what're you--" Lily began, twisting around to look behind her, but then she stopped, because there was nothing more to say.

It was the most ridiculously large building she'd ever seen, and it wasn't even finished yet. It was bigger than Buckingham. Bigger than Hogwarts. Bigger than--hell, just bigger.

Lily had never seen the pyramids, the Great Wall of China, the Taj Mahal, the Panama Canal, or the--the--Hanging Gardens of Babylon, or whatever--but she imagined, if people knew about this place, it might be listed among the wonders of the world. Of course, presumably they were using magic to build it, so that might be unfair, but--but who was to say magic wasn't involved in the building of the other wonders of the world? At any rate, it was colossally, unbelievably, monstrously huge, built in proportions Lily didn't even know how to describe.

"James," she managed finally, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the enormous, half-finished castle sitting in front of her. "D'you think...that thing is possibly..."

"Gryffindor's Castle?" James managed.

"No. Well, yes. Yes, I do think it's that, but...but what I meant to say is...d'you think it's possible that the thing is...well, is...is being made to look larger by magic? Because I just don't see how...I can't understand why...it...well, James, it's so...so..."

"Big?" James suggested.

"Well...yes. Yes, that's one word for it."

"Well what would be another word for it?"

"Um...ridiculously big?"

"That's two words."

"Yes, I know," Lily conceded, finally managing to tear her eyes away from the castle. She stared at James until he made eye contact. "What I mean, James, is...well, it's really almost too big, isn't it?"

"Didn't know that was possible," James said, his eyes straying to the massive castle once more.

"James. It's big beyond the point of practicality. I mean, just--just--look at it!"

Both of them stared for another long moment. It was clearly unfinished; at one end of the building it just stopped. There was no enclosure, no symmetry, no sense of completion. Furthermore, there were huge piles of rocks near the unfinished side of the building, near a system of pulleys and levers and several large piles of tools that were presumably being used to build the thing. But the oddest part of it all was that it was completely deserted. There was no one around, no one at all, except James and Lily. And even if there had been anyone else around, Lily suspected that, at the moment, she and James were a bit too bewildered to have done anything about it, including hide themselves.

"Look, it would take forever just to walk from one end of the building to the other. How would you communicate with the other people inside the castle? How would you ever find anybody? And--and furthermore, think of how much it would cost to build all this. Even if you did complete it, how could you afford to furnish it? And how would you maintain a building this large? You'd need a team of servants, and even then it would take something like--like--"

"Magic?" James suggested.

"Yes! Yes, magic to uphold, it, and--oh." Lily blinked. "Oh, I see."

James grinned. "Don't be such a Muggle, Lily," he teased, and Lily stuck out her tongue. "C'mon," James said, standing. He held out a hand for Lily. "Let's get closer."

Lily took the hand and didn't let go of it as they started walking. "Do you think there's anyone there?"

"I guess we'll find out," James said, shrugging.

"James...d'you think..." Lily sounded unusually nervous.

"What?"

"D'you think we'll get a warm reception and all? I mean, we are kind of out in the middle of nowhere, and...well, nobody seems to be around. They're not even working on building it or anything. I mean...how do we know we're not going to be seen as trespassers? And...what if nobody's even there?"

"Well, first of all, we are trespassing. Secondly, we don't know if anyone's going to be there. And...well...maybe they're not working because it's...Sunday?" James guessed.

"Sunday? But--James, it's not even one thousand A.D. yet. England's not Christian."

"Yes it--oh wait, no. No, I guess you're right. No, it isn't. Is it?"

"Not really, no."

"Blast."

"Indeed," Lily agreed. "Honestly, though, James...I don't feel comfortable just sort of...waltzing up here like this. What if someone sees us?"

"Well, that's sort of the point, isn't it?"

"Yes, but--what if they shoot at us?"

"Lily, why would someone shoot at us?"

"Because...we're trespassing? And because...well, look, James--because they can." She pointed toward the battlements. Large crossbows were just barely visible from Lily and James's distance.

"Bugger. Well, all right, I suppose you do have a point, but still--I mean--we're harmless enough, and--wait a minute. Why Muggle weapons?"

They both halted.

"James," Lily said slowly. "Are we sure this is Gryffindor's Castle?"

James's brow furrowed up in confusion and concentration. "Well--I mean--yes. I've seen drawings of it before, it's massive, it looks just like this, but--I mean, this all just doesn't feel right, does it? They should be working on it--there should be people here--there shouldn't be Muggle weapons, and--" he cut himself off, thinking furiously.

Lily stared up at the castle while James thought. After a moment, she volunteered an idea. "Maybe the Muggle weapons are there for the sake of Muggles," she suggested.

"Come again?"

"You know--in case any Muggles stumble across the place. It's clearly not being Cloaked at this point. They'd have to deter the Muggles somehow."

James snapped his fingers. "Yes! Yes, that makes sense. Because you can't Cloak something while you're building it. And--yes, that's brilliant, Lily."

Lily gave a small grin, but she still didn't feel entirely right about the place.

"And--I think I've just figured out why it's so deserted," James continued, looking excited.

"Well?"

"Well--when Gryffindor was building his Castle, he had to take a break. D'you remember? My mum told you all this story--right?"

"Ye--es," Lily said slowly. "She said--he had to stop, that he never finished it. One of his sons did."

"Right!" James said enthusiastically, looking pleased with himself and with her for remembering. "His oldest son Gildric finished construction, not Godric. Because while Godric was in the middle of building, he got called away for another project--to build another building, you know, one even more important and impressive and historic--a project he started with three other wizards, you know--"

"Oh," Lily said, remembering.

"Hogwarts," they said together.

They blinked and stared at each other for a moment. They were quite close, yes, but normally they didn't speak in unison. They were silent for another moment until Lily thought of something.

"But James--that's awful!"

"Awful? Why is it awful?"

"Because. If Godric Gryffindor's gone off to build Hogwarts, then that means he isn't here."

James stared at the castle for a moment, at its massive emptiness and the sense of abandonment that seemed to surround the place. "Oh. Right."

"Well, now what?" Lily said, visibly slumping. "We don't even know how to get to Hogwarts from here. From anywhere, really. I mean, have you ever paid attention to where the train was going?"

"Er...not really. It all looks like a blur of greenish countryside to me."

"Great," Lily muttered, looking defeated.

"Oh, come on, Lily-bean"--Lily glared--"let's not give up before we've even started. We can at least go up to the castle and have a look around."

Lily sighed. "I suppose."

"And maybe--well, maybe there'll be some kind of clue there, eh? Or at the very least...Floo powder?"

"James, I don't think Floo's been invented yet."

"What? Why not? Why wouldn't--oh blast, you're right. Floo wasn't invented 'til the thirteenth century."

"Mm. Lovely."

Lily and James stared at the castle again.

"Well," James said awkwardly. "Let's just go have a poke around then, shall we?"

"I s'pose," Lily agreed. "It's not as though we have so many other fantastic options."

With that decided, Lily and James approached the castle, still hand-in-hand. Nothing much happened as they walked toward it. No one came running along the armaments to yell or shoot at them, no one appeared outside the castle or through any of its windows, and nothing rustled the long wild grasses that grew all around the castle except for Lily and James's feet and the occasional breeze that swept through the plain. As they approached, Lily could see a line of trees beyond the castle that stretched off into the distance. The closer they got to the castle, the less Lily could see of anything, until finally they were standing right beside it, their necks craned back in awe at its sheer size. The sun was no longer visible from the shadow of the castle, though there was a mere hint of it from behind the parapets that stretched up toward the sky. Gold and scarlet banners were now easily visible, flapping gently in the wind.

"Erm," Lily said quietly, staring at the massive wooden doors in front of them. "Shall we knock?"

"Might as well," James agreed, and took the large brass door knocker in his fist, pounding it against the doors three times and then stepping back to wait.

"Isn't it odd that there isn't any sort of moat? Or...anything?" Lily asked, glancing around. "No...drawbridge, or swamp, or...any real sort of natural fortifications. Odd, isn't it?"

"Well...I think we're on a bit of a hill," James said, glancing around. "But...I see what you mean."

"Odd," Lily murmured again. They both turned back to the door and waited.

No one came.

James tried knocking again, then Lily, and still no one came.

"Looks like it really is deserted," Lily said, sighing, and she sat down, finally letting go of James's hand.

"Well, if that's true," James reasoned, still looking at the doors interestedly, "then would it hurt if we just went in and--poked around a bit?"

"James, no," Lily said reflexively. "That sounds like a terrible idea."

"Why?" James demanded. "I'm pretty good at finding my way around places, aren't I? I mean--look at how well I know Hogwarts! Only took me a year, really, to figure that place out, and that's the most complicated building I've ever seen. And if this building was built by one of the people who helped build Hogwarts--and furthermore by one of my ancestors--well, do you think it's really going to take me very long to figure the place out, and perhaps figure out where we could find some sort of clue as to--"

"James, that's really not what I meant. I meant that--well, isn't it a bit strange that this whole place is sort of--unguarded?"

"Oh. Well...I mean, I suppose so. But all the same--if it's unguarded, it can't hurt to have a look around, and...oh. Oh, that's what you mean," he said as Lily stared at him pointedly. "Well, I suppose it is possible they've got some sort of magical defenses around the place."

"Gee, d'you think?"

"Only--"

"Oh dear," Lily said, sighing, recognizing the determined look on James's face.

"Oh, come on, Lily. This is Gryffindor we're talking about, not--not Slytherin or something. Even if there are enchantments on this place to protect it from intruders, how horrible could they possibly be? Nothing we can't fix ourselves, I'm sure, and anyway--anyway, if we don't go in, what else are we going to do? Sit around until someone comes by?"

Lily looked around at the sheer emptiness surrounding the castle. She sighed. "Oh, all right," she said, again accepting James's hand as he helped her up. "But if anything happens, it's your fault."

James sighed but didn't argue, and pulled out his wand to use in case the normal door-opening method didn't work. Much to his surprise, however, the door eased open quietly when he grasped the handle and pushed, and Lily and James cautiously stepped into the most impressive front hallway they'd seen since entering Hogwarts.

There wasn't much time to look around, however. Lily got only a glimpse of the massive tapestries hanging along the walls, of the ballroom off to the left and impressive dining room off to the right, of the massive chandeliers all hanging in a row along the ceiling, before she heard a loud crack! come from somewhere off to her right, and then, quite suddenly, Lily and James were locked in the dungeons.

Lin was having a tough time of it. She'd talked with Mimi, a seventh-year friend of Lily's, and after much discussion and deliberation, they'd decided that Mimi's hypothesis about Lin's abilities was probably right. The disaster in Lin's village had affected her brain in a way that made it extra-sensitive to the despair of others, and the wavelength it was currently "tuned in to" allowed her to see things no normal person should have been able to see.

That didn't exactly make it better, though. In a way, it made things worse. Now Lin knew she wasn't just having mad visions or hallucinations; rather, she was seeing events as they took place, hundreds of miles away, was consumed by these events and completely powerless to stop them. They didn't give her any idea of where the events were taking place, or where future disasters were likely to take place; they just tortured her.

Sometimes, though, they weren't so bad. When she was distracted, the visions didn't come as easily. When she was with Anthony, for example. Or when she was losing quite badly to Bridget at wizard chess or Exploding Snap. Bridget was quite good at games. Bridget was quite good at everything, in fact, except controlling her temper. Lin, who had been rather stoic even before the disaster in her village, was trying to help her with that. In return, Bridget was trying to distract Lin as much as possible from thinking about awful things. The more Lin let herself wallow in the doldrums, the worse the visions got. The more she tried to lead a normal life, the less she had them.

Since she couldn't actually use the visions to help anyone, they'd all decided it was better if she just stopped having them.

Some days, this was easy. On days when it was nice and sunny and unusually warm for January and they could go outside and relax by the lake, it was easier to get Lin's mind away from terrible things that might be happening all over the country. On days Lin got to spend a lot of time with Anthony, it was easier to forget that there were people in pain. On days the snow fell thick and wet and pretty onto the school grounds, and students took advantage of their midday break to rush onto the lawn and start a snowball fight--well, on days like those it was much easier to forget that, somewhere in Britain, some child was shrieking in terror instead of laughter, someone was being hit with something more potent than a snowball, some people were falling to the ground and not getting up again.

Yes. On fun days, it was easier to forget about death.

The problem with this was that at Hogwarts, the fun days were becoming less and less. Almost every day, the Daily Prophet brimmed with tragic news. Some days, the Prophet brimmed with absolute nonsense and Ministry propaganda, but other days, the truth shone through. Those were the days when Lin saw traces of her nightmares reflected in black-and-white print. Those were the days it was hard to forget about death, hard to concentrate on a game of Exploding Snap, hard to look Anthony in the eye.

And every day, of course, it got harder to care about schoolwork. The whole school was tense, worried. Even on fun days, you could tell. There was always someone walking with a ghostly shadow on his or her face, looking like they'd just had tea with the Grim Reaper and found out that youth isn't so invincible after all.

"Come with me, Bellatrix."

He'd been asking her for weeks now. Or perhaps it was only one week. Maybe two; Bellatrix hardly kept track anymore.

They'd disposed of Siegfried. He was no longer consequential, no longer anything that mattered. Or so she said, so he said, so they both pretended. There had been a small funeral service, a brief remembrance, a bit of fake crying on the part of everyone but Siegfried's mum, who cried in earnest. Bellatrix didn't cry. She hadn't cried at all since the day she realized Siegfried could never be turned back. Perhaps she'd forgotten how; it really didn't matter. What did matter was moving on. Swiftly. Painlessly. No looking back.

"I think it might be too late," Bellatrix said, staring at her hands. So much destruction she'd been able to dish out with these two hands, these slim fingers, these soft and steady palms. Plenty of destruction, but none of the opposite. She'd always been horrible at healing spells. It was no wonder she couldn't change anything back from stone.

"No," Rodolphus said urgently. "It's not. You've always been loyal, always been trustworthy--none of that's changed--"

"I missed the last meeting. He'll think I've deserted."

"Nonsense. The Dark Lord is much smarter than we are, Bellatrix. He'll know. He'll understand."

"And if he doesn't?"

Rodolphus stared at her levelly, gravely. "If he doesn't, you're as good as dead anyway."

Bellatrix considered. "And if I let him down the way I let down Siegfried?"

Rodolphus didn't hesitate before answering. "That's impossible. The Dark Lord could never be as big of a fool as Siegfried was."

Bellatrix sat there and tried not to let the comment sting. It should sting, damn it. It was the truth, after all, and very few things hurt more than the truth.

"He will appreciate your loyalty," Rodolphus continued, his voice lower, smoother, less patronizing. "And besides, I--I want you there with me."

Bellatrix considered this. She considered also the dagger in her hand. She'd been carrying it with her everywhere, these past weeks. She wasn't sure why. Maybe she was looking for a proper place to dispose of it. Maybe she was still debating whether or not to use it on herself. Or on the first sorry sap who happened to wander by at a bad moment. Did it really matter?

Rodolphus watched her turn the blade over in her hands nervously. "Bellatrix, I think you really need to start letting go of--"

Bellatrix slammed her hand onto the table, trapping the hilt of the dagger beneath it. Rodolphus jerked a little, but not away. He gazed at her carefully, apparently wondering if he should treat her like a human or a crazed animal. "Please shut up, Rodolphus," she said calmly.

Well. If there was nothing she could do about it, then--damn it--there was nothing she could do about it. Time to let go of Siegfried and let him rot. Or, at the very least, give the appearance of doing so. The outside world was tired of seeing her mope, so she might as well stop. In time, her emotions would catch up with her actions, and there would be nothing to prevent her from getting over everything once and for all. Not exactly nice and tidy, but she had to do something or be driven completely insane.

"Find somewhere to put this," she said, rising from the table and staring at the dagger. "Lock it away somewhere. I don't ever want to see it again."

"Ah--right," Rodolphus said, looking rather pleased.

"And hurry up," she snapped, rubbing the burning Dark Mark on her arm. "We have a meeting to get to."

Lily and James wallowed in the dungeons for days. There was a little space to go to the bathroom, and twice a day food mysteriously appeared in their cell, usually just bread and cheese but also occasionally soup and sometimes water to drink. Lily had never been so thirsty or sore or miserable. Even using James as a human pillow couldn't take the crick out of her neck or the ache out of her back. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go and no one to talk to besides James, and after the first three days they gave up trying to figure out a way to escape.

No one came to see them. No one else appeared in the dungeon cells around them. There was nothing there, except Lily and James and the rats, which James zapped with his wand if they got too close.

Lily and James still had their wands. They had everything they'd come with, in fact, which was excellent except that no spell they tried seemed to be able to get them out of their cell. Gryffindor had done a wonderful job protecting his castle. Perhaps, thought Lily bitterly, he'd done the job a little too wonderfully.

There were no guards, no apparent servants, no apparent people, really, except Lily and James, who supposed that the only reason they were still alive was because, somewhere in the castle, there were house elves, who made sure they got their food every day. This made sense. After all, Potter's Cottage had house elves, so why shouldn't Gryffindor's Castle? And in a place this large, there were probably quite a few house elves, which would explain why a disproportionate number of them now lived in Potter's Cottage--a relatively small place to house five or six house elves; Lily couldn't quite remember, now, how many there were. But she did remember James telling her, at one point, that mansions the size of Potter's Cottage needed only two house elves at most to keep tidy. Most large manors only needed one.

But a castle this size--even with magic, Lily thought, you'd need a whole army.

She wondered how many house elves there were at Hogwarts. It seemed like quite a few. She'd only ever really seen them during midnight trips to the kitchens, and even then she hadn't been to the kitchens a great number of times. Would there be more at Hogwarts than here, perhaps? She thought about asking James, but he was asleep. They both slept a lot. It was quite boring. Occasionally one of them would get restless and pace around the cell for a while, or try to exercise a bit by jumping around or doing push-ups or something, but that only mildly helped. At the end of the first day they'd gotten bored and decided to have a snog, but after that kissing didn't seem quite as appealing because their breath had become quite stinky and they had no place to brush their teeth or even bathe.

Life was quite disgusting.

Perhaps now they would fit in with the people of the past more. Lily suspected they didn't have great-smelling breath or perfectly clean clothes or excellent hygiene. She couldn't say for sure, however, because it didn't seem likely, now, that she'd ever meet any.

On the sixth day of wallowing in the cell, Lily became rather furious. She paced around the cell, cursing, yelling, banging against the bars, kicking the empty water pitcher to one side of the room and then stalking over to kick it back. James didn't try to stop her. He understood.

"What in the bloody hell are we--nowhere to go--no one around--no way to get out--completely stuck--stay here for thirty days--go back with nothing--completely useless--smell like dirty pigs--"

James sniffed his armpits. He wasn't sure "dirty pigs" was the most accurate description, but they certainly smelled like dirty something.

"Can't even wash my face--disgusting--no one even lives here--bloody stupid idea--poke around indeed--no way out--JAMES, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE WE DOING HERE?"

James jerked in alarm. "Erm," he said, unhelpfully.

"James, we've got to do something. Think, damn it, think!"

"Think? What do you want me to think of? We've already thought of everything--already tried everything--Lily, there's just no way out!"

"NO! That's NOT TRUE! We've got to think of something!"

Lily was crazed, and besides that she looked terrible. Her hair was frizzy, tangled, and hastily pulled back, there were sad bags under her eyes, her skin was greasy, her breath was foul, and she had a dangerous look in her bright green eyes.

"Bugger," James muttered, racking his brains for something--anything--before he went bonkers like Lily.

He didn't look much better than Lily, the main difference being his hair--it was so difficult to tell if it was kempt or unkempt normally that now, even after days of neglect and sleeping on a stone floor, it didn't look much better or worse than usual.

Lily continued pacing around the cell, muttering to herself. "Charms--can't make potion--can't just break the bars--no good climbing--no one around--no one around--just the bloody house elves--bloody Gryffindor--stupid castle--stupid--stupid--" She trailed off and stared at the ground, thinking.

Then, all at once, it came to her.

"James, the house elves!" she shrieked, and threw herself on her hands and knees next to him, peering rather frighteningly into his eyes.

"Er--what?"

"The house elves! Don't you see? They're yours, James! They're the ancestors of the house elves you have at Potter's Cottage! I mean...aren't they? Wouldn't they be? I mean, why wouldn't they?"

"Yes," James said slowly, "but I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"You can command them, can't you? I mean, if they're yours."

"They're not mine yet," James pointed out.

"Never mind that, though! You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? You have Gryffindor blood. All this eventually belongs to you, doesn't it?"

"Well...technically."

"So you see? Can't you just--call one of them? Make them release us? Or at least give us some bath water, damn it--something--ANYTHING--for the love of God, James, PLEASE--"

Lily was looking completely crazed again.

"All right, all right! I'll try...something," James said, sighing, and he slowly got to his feet. He walked to the edge of the cell, glanced over his shoulder awkwardly at Lily, who was staring at him with wide green eyes, and cleared his throat. "Erm...hello," he began, speaking into the silence. No one answered. "Yes. Hi. Um, I'm an heir of Godric Gryffindor. I will eventually inherit this castle and grounds. I was wondering...I was wondering if one of you house elves could come here and sort of...do us a favor."

Nothing happened. James looked back at Lily and shrugged. She jumped up, frustrated. "Come on, be forceful! Yell out a command or something. Just...just try it, please."

James sighed, feeling ridiculous, and turned back around. "I need a house elf down here now!" he yelled.

To his everlasting astonishment, there was a great crack! and in front of them appeared a short, wrinkly house elf, who bowed deeply in front of James and said, "At your service, sir."

Quidditch practice. It was hard to believe there was still Quidditch practice, after watching a girl die and then come back to life and then have her soul put back together and then go through weeks of violent mood swings during an epic adventure into the past in which she spent most of her time wallowing on the floor of a dungeon cell bitching about the crick in her neck.

James's life, whatever it had been before, was now officially no longer normal.

And yet here he was, back in the present, with six Quidditch players standing on the pitch holding their broomsticks and looking at him expectantly.

"Right," James said finally. "Let's have a good practice of it, shall we?"

He mounted his broomstick without waiting for the team to respond. What else was he going to say? He didn't have an official game plan--not at the moment, anyway. He hadn't had a chance to work much of anything out in the past few weeks. He'd come up with a good idea or two in the dungeons, in between naps and fits of frustration and watching Lily halfway lose her mind, but he'd never gotten a chance to write them down, so they'd just drifted out of his brain and stayed in the past, probably waiting to be snatched up by someone less brilliant than James. Or...something.

The team flew up with him, and he hovered just slightly above the practice, calling out corrections and advice and certain plays he wanted them to run over. It got his mind off homework, anyway. Got his mind off Lily. The thoughts of Lily were incessant and deeply frustrating. It wasn't as though he minded thinking of Lily, of course, but--thinking about her all the time was a bit much, wasn't it?

Something had happened to them, traveling to and from the past. Gryffindor had said the time spell...well, it connected their minds in a weird way. They caught whiffs of each other's thoughts now. Part of that just came from being magical and spending the last thirty days with no one but each other, but another part of that came from traveling through time together. Neither of them had any training as Legilimens, so it didn't make sense for them to be catching whiffs of one another's thoughts that way.

In some ways, it was bringing them closer. In other ways, it sort of freaked them out.

James flew lazily over the practice, calling out a few more plays for them to fly through.

If he thought hard enough, he could almost sense what Lily was doing. He thought, for example, that right now she was up in one of the towers, working on a particularly brutal Transfiguration essay.

Odd. Lily was working on a Transfiguration essay, and James was at Quidditch practice. A month ago--and of course it wasn't really a month ago, not by normal time-keeping standards, but James and Lily had both gotten a month older during their trip to the past, so that was how James chose to think of it--they'd both been on broomsticks, hadn't they? Flying above the countryside, trying to figure out where Hogwarts was.

"Oy!" Arabella called up at him. "How'd that look?"

"Er--good, good," James said, hoping he didn't sound too distracted. "I think that's it for today. The game's not for another month, so we might as well take it easy, eh?"

The team flew to the ground and landed. Melody and Sirius wrestled the Beaters back into the box. It was a nighttime practice, so they hadn't even bothered releasing the Snitch.

"You okay, mate?" Sirius asked, catching up with him.

"Yeah," James said. "Just distracted."

"Thinking about...a certain someone?" Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Can't seem to stop, Padfoot, that's my problem."

Sirius shrugged. "Better than thinking about homework, anyway."

"But better than thinking about Quidditch?"

"Ooh." Sirius paused to give it some thought. Melody came up behind him and whacked him on the head. (Gently, of course, and with deep affection.) "Er--I mean to say--that's not so bad."

Melody stared as a girl burst out of the Great Hall, shrieking with delight, followed by a gaggle of friends who crowded around her to gaze at the large, sparkly stone that was now adorning the girl's ring finger.

"That's got to be the second time this week," Melody said, astonished, staring dumbly at the girls as they hurried up the stairs, still shrieking with amazement and glee.

"Yeah," Lily said absently.

"You all right, Lil?"

"Mm...what? Yeah. I'm fine, I'm just...just wondering."

"About...engagement rings?" Melody guessed as they entered the Great Hall for lunch.

"No, not that. Just...relationships in general." Melody stared at her until she said something more specific. "Or, um...physical relationships," Lily managed.

Melody's eyes widened. "Ah," she offered. It was a somewhat awkward conversation to have while strolling through the Great Hall. "Are you and James...?"

"No," Lily said hastily. "But I, um--that is to say--we might possibly--erm--"

Her cheeks turned pink. She became rather suddenly aware of her surroundings and the large number of people nearby. "Never mind," Lily amended. Melody opened her mouth to protest, but Lily said, "Later," very quickly, and Melody simply sighed and took a seat next to Lily at the Ravenclaw table.

"Oh, hey," Melody said, thinking of something. "Completely randomly--d'you know what I heard the other day about Amos Diggory?"

"What about Amos Diggory?" Lily asked, serving herself some pumpkin juice. Amos Diggory was a boy she'd sort-of dated in Fifth Year while secretly hoping to make James jealous (though, of course, she would have denied that to the world).

"He's gotten married. A while ago, actually, because apparently he and his wife already have a baby."

Lily nearly spewed pumpkin juice out her nose. "What?"

"Yeah, I know," Melody said, shrugging and reaching for some sandwiches. "Crazy, isn't it? Things happen fast these days."

"But--but he's too young to have a baby!"

Melody shrugged. "He's older than we are."

"Well--yes--but--not so much older. I mean, would you be ready to have a baby practically right out of Hogwarts?"

Melody thought about this and shuddered. "I dunno if I'd be ready to have a baby for ages after Hogwarts."

"Me either. It's just too--too--"

"Much?" Melody suggested.

"Yeah." Lily thought of James, and of babies, and shook her head. "I think I've got about all I can handle as it is. No need to throw a baby in the mix."

Meanwhile, back in the past, Lily and James were terribly, utterly lost.

"Are we there yet?" Lily asked, guiding her broom in lazy zig-zags behind James.

"No," James said, sighing.

"Are we there yet?" Lily attempted a spin in midair and nearly fell off her broom. She was a terrible flier. Plus, the brooms were completely awful and hideously uncomfortable. Had Lily been in her right state of mind, she would not have dared any broom aerodynamics. As it was, however, Lily was under the influence of one of her many unpredictable mood swings, and was feeling quite mischievous, daring, silly, and playful--to James's everlasting annoyance.

"No," James snapped. He had a pained look of concentration on his face. The pain was partly from trying to ignore Lily and partly from sitting on the hideously uncomfortable broomstick, the various parts of which felt as though they had been twined together with barbed wire. The concentration came mostly from trying to figure out where they were going, but also from trying to prevent the broomstick from splintering into various sensitive parts of his anatomy.

"Are we there...YET?" She leaned forward on her broom and tried to coax it up next to James's.

"No!" he roared, practically in her ear.

Lily burst into a hysterical fit of giggles. Somewhere deep underneath the mood swing, a more adult Lily was aware she was driving James out of his mind, but she couldn't do anything to stop herself.

The house-elf had let Lily and James out of the dungeons, given them broomsticks and food, informed them that Godric Gryffindor was not there and probably would not return for some time, and then attempted to give them approximate directions to the site of Gryffindor's newest building project. So far, the only part Lily and James seemed to have grasped was "North."

Nothing looked familiar, but then why would it? The further they got into Scotland, the more alien it became, and on top of that, none of the normal landmarks seemed to apply. Even if they had somehow memorized the route of the Hogwarts Express in their own time, it seemed unlikely that they would be able to recreate its path now. The trees were all in entirely different places, the farmland was different, the buildings were fewer and farther apart, and there were no lines anywhere--no phone lines, power lines, anything. Hardly a thing to distinguish Muggle from magician.

Plus--the broomsticks were really, really starting to hurt. Lily suspected she would care far more if she were her normal, rational self, but instead she was lackadaisically attempting to guide her broomstick this way and that--a particularly dangerous feat, considering the broomsticks weren't enchanted to do anything more complicated than go up, down, start, and stop. If Lily did something really stupid and somehow fell off her broomstick, it didn't seem likely that James could pull into a fantastic dive and save her. His broomstick was, if possible, less aerodynamic than Lily's, which jerked and shuddered oddly if she tried to turn it more than fifteen degrees at a time.

"Jaaaamesie-poo," Lily sang in an annoying soprano. "Why so glum? Turn that frown upside-down!"

If James hadn't been clutching his broomstick so tightly in obvious anguish, he might have taken the opportunity to shove Lily off hers. Or, at the very least, to clamp his hand over her mouth.

"I, uh--ow," James said, trying to ignore Lily's current state of apparent psychosis. His speech was occasionally punctuated by little exclamations of pain as the broomstick shifted uncomfortably beneath him. "Look, I think we--ah!--ought to stop soon, because--argh--I seem to be having a bit of a--oof--problem. With this--yow!--thing."

"Hey look, a clearing! Race you to the ground!" Lily cried, ecstatic, and set her broom into a dive, as steep and as fast as she could make it.

James sighed. There wasn't much more than one speed on either of the broomsticks, so the dive was neither as steep nor as fast as Lily liked to think it was. Luckily, it was a dive controllable enough for Lily, who normally looked at a broomstick and saw "death" written all over it.

It was a good thing she was taking out her gleeful mood on a lame, ancient broomstick and not one of the new Nimbuses; if she'd been riding a Nimbus, she would have accidentally pitched herself to her death by now, and then where would they be?

James landed beside Lily, who had toppled off her broomstick and onto the grass instead of managing a proper dismount. James attempted to look dignified as he dismounted, but he was so sore that this was nearly impossible, and he half-fell, half-hobbled his way away from the broomstick instead.

"Bugger," he grunted, gently lowering himself to the ground beside Lily, who was happily picking the petals off a flower she'd plucked out of the ground. "What I wouldn't give to know how to perform that Cushioning Charm right about now." James thought longingly of his Quidditch Through the Ages book, tucked safely away in his dormitory, which was now an unknown number of miles away and a good thousand years into the future. Did the book say how to perform the cushioning charm? he wondered--and if so, why in the blazes hadn't he learned it? He sighed and delicately adjusted his bottom. He wasn't sure he could take much more of this. When it came right down to it, they were lost anyway, so what did it matter if they flew high above the countryside or traipsed aimlessly through it? Perhaps Lily would agree, because James's body did not take kindly to the idea of mounting that broomstick again any time in the near future. He glanced over to see how she was doing.

"He loves me!" she cried, triumphantly ripping a petal off the flower and watching eagerly as it fluttered to the ground. "Oh...he loves me not," she noted dejectedly, and pouted as she flung the petal to the ground. "He loves me!" she repeated. Then, "Oh no...he loves me not. He--he loves me!" she squealed, seizing the last petal. "Oh, Jamesie-poo, I just knew it!"

Lily launched herself in his general direction and flung her arms about his neck, pressing her lips eagerly against his. She was a bit too eager, however, and their teeth sort of banged together for a painful moment. "Oops," Lily said, giggling, and she put her mouth to his with a bit more accuracy.

This is it, James thought. She's gone off the deep end. My girlfriend's lying on top of me in the middle of a field wanting to have a snog while we're completely lost a thousand years into the past because a flower told her I loved her.

Midway through the kiss, Lily came back to her senses. "Oh dear," she said suddenly, pulling away with the appearance of someone who'd just got her wits together. "I've gone a bit barmy, haven't I?"

James shrugged. He couldn't help but agree.

"Oh dear," Lily repeated, sighing, and she moved away from James, twisting around to sit on the grass next to him. "Where exactly are--aaah!"

She felt, quite suddenly, the excruciating pain that had been building up between her legs since her first attempt at broomstick aerobatics. "Oh my God," she moaned. "James, what on earth did I do to myself?"

"Beats me, Lily. All I know is you were braver on a broomstick in the last half an hour than you've ever been."

"Oh no," she moaned, stretching out and doing her best to assuage the pain. "I--ooow--I think I've got--eep--splinters in the--gaaah--most unholy of places."

"Most likely," James grunted, attempting to stretch out himself.

They lay there side-by-side for a moment, contemplating the blue sky above them, before Lily said, in a somewhat less-than-steady voice, "James?"

"Yeah, Lily?"

"D'you think," her voice quavered somewhat, "I'll--I'll ever really be normal again?" She sniffled softly.

"Aw, Lil," James said, looking over. Neither of them really wanted to move--that much was obvious--but Lily was hastily wiping away a few small tears on her face. "I think--I think so," James offered. "I mean, Schmundertoe's been right about everything so far, hasn't he? And--he told us the mood swings would happen. If anything, they're a good sign, aren't they? It means your soul's getting put back together and everything."

Lily considered this for a moment and then nodded vigorously, but to James this was a sign that she couldn't exactly speak, because if she did she might crack again.

James couldn't think of much else to say, so instead he reached over and took hold of one of Lily's hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Lily seemed to appreciate this, because she squeezed his hand and wiggled a little closer to him, cringing slightly as she did so.

They were silent for some moments as Lily composed herself. Then, after they'd been lying there long enough for the cricks in both their necks to come back, Lily sighed and said, "James...where the dickens are we?"

"Lost," James said, because that was all he knew.

"Not good," Lily noted, and they lay there for a few more minutes in silence, trying not to move.

Then, suddenly, inspiration struck. "Lily!" James said, jerking in excitement and then immediately regretting it.

"Yes?" Lily turned her head, but nothing more.

James met her gaze. "How d'you feel about...Apparating?"

Lily stared at him. "I feel like...we're not certified."

"Right. Yeah. Never mind that--I think we should give it a try." James raised his eyebrows eagerly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You know, I think some of us would like to stay in one piece. I don't know if I could handle having my soul and my body spliced at the same time."

James considered this briefly. "Nah. Look, Lily, I'm really good at Apparating, I just haven't bothered to take my test yet. I mean...haven't you practiced?"

Lily sighed. "Not as much as I should have. And besides that--James, we don't even know where we're going. You can't Apparate to an indeterminate destination."

"We do know where we're going, though. We just don't know how to get there."

"Yes, and another thing--we can't Apparate directly to and from Hogwarts, James, you know that. There's a spell that blocks it."

"Yeah...there is in the future. How d'you know there is now?"

Lily stared at him until he felt like an idiot. "We are not going to take that chance."

"Fine. We'll Apparate to Hogsmeade, then. Happy?"

"I dunno, James, I...I mean...what if Hogsmeade's not there yet, either?"

"Doesn't matter. At least we'll be close to the castle."

"But I--I mean--what if something happens? James, there's no Ministry of Magic set up yet--there's no Ministry of anything--we don't know any wizards--if we do get in trouble we'll have no one to help us--and what if a wizard does find us all spliced and he can't even do anything about it? What then? We--"

"Lily," James said gently. "I promise we'll be fine. If you don't want to Apparate yourself, you can Apparate with me. I mean it--I'm really quite good at it."

Lily considered.

After a few more minutes of debate, Lily decided that James needed to prove it, so he Apparated back and forth between various places in the meadow they were standing in, and then Apparated with Lily once just for good measure until she sighed and gave in.

They decided to abandon the broomsticks--they weren't worth keeping, not even if they belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Lily breathed deeply as they prepared to Apparate, repeating over and over in her mind It's safer than flying--it's safer than flying--it's safer than flying--until the time finally came, and with a whirl and a pop! James successfully Apparated them out of the field.

Quite a few miles northeast of the field they'd just left behind, Lily and James suddenly appeared out of nowhere, quite successfully, and all in one piece.

They were in another field, only this one was hillier and slightly greener and the sky above wasn't quite as blue as they could have hoped; the clouds were gray and the air was slightly chill and the sky threatened rain. Lily and James were very much alone.

"Brilliant, James," Lily said as the first drops of rain started falling. "Now what?"

"What're you up to, Lily?" Mimi asked, plopping down next to Lily in one of the bean bag chairs in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Lily sighed. "Career planning."

"Ooh...good choice. Have you figured out what you're going to do after Hogwarts?"

"No," Lily moaned. "That's the whole point. This is the schedule to sign up for a meeting with Dumbledore, but as you can see it's mostly filled already, and--bugger, there goes another one."

Mimi peered over Lily's shoulder to see the large schedule she held in her lap. As they watched, ink appeared on the parchment as, somewhere in Hogwarts, another student signed his name into one of the open time slots.

"Curse you...Harper H. Fiddleton!" Lily said, squinting at the cramped writing. "I was thinking about taking that one."

"Well, why don't you take this one?" Mimi suggested, pointing to an open space.

"I can't, I have Herbology then."

"Oh, right. Well...what about here?"

"That's three weeks away!" Lily wailed.

"Lily, it's only January."

"I know...but I want to panic about my future now."

"You better take this spot while you can," Mimi advised. "Looks like things are filling up fast."

Lily frowned as two more spots were claimed. "All right," she muttered. "Looks like I'll have to put this off til mid-February." She sighed and scribbled her name in quickly, before another Fiddleton-type character could take the spot. "Why aren't you freaking out about the future?" she demanded of Mimi.

Mimi shrugged. "I've got this internship thing at the Daily Prophet. I'm thinking about becoming a journalist. Maybe an editor. The internship's like three months or something, and after that I'm going to try to set up an interview with Witch Weekly. I'd love to write columns about fashion." Her eyes lit up at the thought.

Lily decided to laugh instead of groan in frustration. "I don't understand how everybody has everything all laid out already. I've got no idea what I want to do."

Mimi yawned. "It'll come to you, Lil."

"You okay? You look tired."

"I am tired. I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

"Not studying for the N.E.W.T.'s already, are you?" Lily joked.

Mimi laughed. "Not a chance. No, actually I've been working on something--er--something else."

Lily frowned. "What kind of something else? Big project for Divination or something?"

Mimi's eyes slid away from Lily's. "No, nothing like that. Just...a personal sort of project. That's all."

"What sort of project?"

Mimi bit her lip and stared into the fireplace. After a bit of hesitation, she said, "You know--Lily, maybe you could help me. I mean, you're better at this sort of thing than I am, and I'm--stuck." She turned her big brown eyes to Lily, looking a little desperate.

"Well--I mean--what sort of thing is it?"

"Potions. Well--a potion. For, um, healing things. Like--like scars."

Lily looked at her for a moment, puzzled. Mimi was still biting her lip, anxious not to say too much out loud. "Oh," Lily realized. "Remus?" she asked softly.

Mimi nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I know there's nothing I can really do, but I thought if I could at least work out something--something to help the pain, or heal the scratches better--"

"Mimi, that's really advanced magic," Lily murmured. "I--"

"I know, Lily, but I have to do something. I can't stand just sitting there and seeing how he hurts, it's--" Mimi shook her head. "It's not right. And--and you're so much better at Potions than me, Lily, you could really help--no, you could, don't look at me like that, and--well--it would make the nights less lonely, anyway."

Mimi looked at Lily pleadingly for a good long time before Lily sighed.

"Not every night," she said firmly.

Mimi nodded. "Not every night," she agreed. She wouldn't have asked Lily to come every night, anyway.

She hadn't said anything about herself.

The Marauders and their girlfriends settled into MHQ for another installment of Lily and James's epic tale. It was fast becoming a weekly ritual. They'd been doing it the past three weekends, whenever all of them could spare a bit of time, and they'd gotten in the habit of trading off candy duty. This time, Melody brought a large bag of licorice, which they all passed around to share.

"Look! I'm a walrus," Sirius said, ripping a piece of the licorice in half and sticking the two pieces under his front lip, letting them hang down over his chin in what he apparently considered a walrus-like fashion.

"You're a nincompoop," Melody said calmly, ripping off the end of a licorice rope and chewing it patiently as Sirius growled at her.

"Do walruses growl?" James wondered.

"No, but I think they bellow," Remus offered.

"Bellow?" Mimi echoed. "What in the world does a walrus bellow sound like?"

Remus cleared his throat. "Allow me to demonstrate." He let out a loud, booming, anguished sort of noise that sounded more like the howl of a dying hyena than a walrus. Mimi snorted and burst into giggles.

"O-kay then," Lily said as the giggles subsided. "Don't we have some sort of story to tell?"

Sirius sighed dramatically. "Iff you musht, you musht," he said around the two pieces of licorice that were hanging out of his mouth.

"Where were we?" James asked. Lily stared at the ceiling blankly, trying to remember.

"You had just Apparated. You landed in the middle of a field and it started raining on you," Peter offered.

"Ah. Right," James agreed, and glanced over at Lily.

"Oh, go right ahead," she said. "I'm not too fond of this part."

"So did you end up anywhere near Hogwarts?" Sophie asked eagerly. Lily and James didn't really know her much better than they had when they'd started telling this story, but Sophie was a very attentive audience member, and though it didn't necessarily turn them into close friends, it at least opened the doors for communication.

"Yes, thankfully," James replied, "otherwise things could have been much worse."

"We weren't quite as close as we could have hoped," Lily said, rather flatly.

"Er--yes," James agreed. "You see, as it happened--"

"As it happened, Lily caught a cold," Lily interrupted. "Because--as it happened--it was raining very hard, and James landed them about ten miles south of Hogsmeade. Didn't you, James? Yes, and although Hogsmeade wasn't much of anything--just one tavern, really--it would have been nice to be a tad closer to shelter before pneumonia set in--as it was, it took us two and a half hours to walk anywhere worth going--"

"Oh, come now, Lily." James very nearly pouted. "I did the best I could, and anyway--you said I could tell this part of the story.

Lily scrunched up her nose unhappily. After a moment of silent conversation with James, she said, "Oh, all right." And with that, Lily very visibly clamped her mouth shut.

"Now then. We walked two and a half hours through the rain to get to the tavern at Hogsmeade, and by the time we got there Lily was sneezing and shivering and looking pretty awful, despite the warming charm we'd been using to try to keep ourselves from being completely soaked. She was in a pretty bad way when we stumbled through the doors, so the tavern owner--although he couldn't understand what we were saying--took pity on us and gave us a room. He didn't like the look of the Galleons we tried to give him at first, but he got over it when he realized they were made of real gold."

Lily poked James in the shoulder and tugged at her necklace, staring at him pointedly.

"Oh, yes," he said, sighing, and rattled off the next bit as quickly as he could. "And we only found the tavern because Lily's brilliant, and even though I'm an idiot and got us lost her necklace somehow knew the right direction to go, and if it hadn't been for its amazing sense of direction we would have been doomed to wander around aimlessly until we died. Are you happy now?"

Lily smiled and nodded, fiddling with her necklace as James continued his narration.

"Anyway--once we got safely to the tavern, Lily became very ill. I had a slight cold for a few days, but Lily somehow caught something much worse. We were laid up in the tavern for nearly a week before Lily got better again. It was rather boring, I must say, because I couldn't speak with any of the tavern's other patrons--none of them understood a word I said--and the only person there I could really talk to was halfway to being a vegetable. Sorry, Lil, it's just true. Anyway, besides that, there was nothing to read, and nothing much to do, really, except sleep a lot and make sure Lily had enough to drink and eat and everything.

"So yeah, that part of the trip was really dull. After Lily got better, we ventured up to Hogwarts to try to find Gryffindor again. The castle was--well, it's hard to describe." He looked over at Lily.

Lily bit her lip and considered. "It was finished and everything, so it wasn't still in a state of half-construction. But it was--different. It was--new."

"Yeah," James agreed. "Yeah, it was brand-new. And it was really, really weird to see something that you associate with the old and historic as a brand-new building. The whole place just...felt different. Like the magic was still settling around everywhere, you know? All the spells and the stones had only just been put into place--the--the secret passages were still waiting to be discovered--millions of pranks were still waiting to happen--all kinds of mischief had yet to be--"

"Whoa there, killer," Lily said, patting him on the arm. "Don't get carried away thinking about pranks now."

James scowled. "I still can't believe you didn't let me pull one. Just a small one would have been--"

"James, are you out of your mind? We were in enough trouble as it was."

"Not at the end we weren't."

"Would you really want to have been the one responsible for getting us on Gryffindor's bad side?"

"Oh, come on, Lily, it would have been historic. The first person ever to pull a prank inside Hogwarts! Just think of it! It could have been amazing."

"Or just really, really stupid."

"Don't hamper me with details, Lily. I had a dream."

"Yes, dear. Of course you did. To clear up some of that," Lily said, turning back to their audience, which was regarding them with blank stares registering somewhere in between confusion and fascination, "we made it to Hogwarts. We made it all the way into the Great Hall this time, in fact, before we were promptly imprisoned again."

"Dungeons suck," James muttered.

"Yes," Lily agreed. "And considering how much lawbreaking we did not do while we were in the past, we spent an inordinate amount of time in them."

"Well, we did break and enter," James reasoned.

"We did not break and enter. The doors were unlocked both times. Godric Gryffindor just happened to be a total security freak."

"Wait wait wait wait wait," Melody said, very quickly. "So, you two actually met Godric Gryffindor? You actually got to speak with him?"

Lily and James blinked at her.

"Well...yeah," Lily said. "That is what we went back for."

"I know, but--I mean--Godric Gryffindor. He's--he's--he's--"

"Amazing?" Lily suggested.

"Historic," Melody breathed.

"Mm," James said. "That was sort of the point."

"Brave ones, these Gryffindors, but not exactly the brightest, are they?" Mimi teased. Melody stuck her tongue out and turned her attention back to Lily and James.

"Go on," she said. "So what did Gryffindor say? What does he look like?"

"Hang on, we're not there yet," Lily said. "We're in the dungeons again, remember?"

"Okay, well, blah de blah de blah, you're in the dungeons, it's lame, and then--ta da! You meet Godric Gryffindor. What's he like?"

"Actually, that's not quite how it went," Lily said. "See, we didn't meet Godric Gryffindor first."

"Who did you meet, then?" Melody demanded.

Lily and James traded an uneasy glance before speaking the name together. "Salazar Slytherin."

Lin, Anthony, and Bridget were playing Exploding Snap in a deserted classroom. It wasn't as cozy as the Common Room, but then Anthony wasn't in Gryffindor, so they didn't really have a choice.

Lin was doing wonderfully. She hadn't had one of her awful visions for days, Anthony was a total sweetheart, Bridget was in an unusually goofy and complacent mood (not her usual competitive, 'I-will-eat-you-if-you-beat-me' mood), and just yesterday Lin had gotten an excellent score on her Potions exam.

"Linny loo-loo," Bridget sang, "it's your turny turny too-too."

Anthony sighed deeply. "Whose idea was it to bring all those chocolate frogs?" he demanded. "I think they're making Bridget go a bit mad."

"My deepest apologies," Lin said, brandishing one of her cards. "Now, what shall I do with you?" she wondered, tapping the card on her chin. "A-ha!"

She laid the card down and the deck promptly exploded. "Hm," she said, as an afterthought, "perhaps that wasn't the best move after all.

Bridget let out a delightful peal of laughter and Anthony rolled his eyes.

Then, with no warning at all, Lin collapsed onto the table. Her face gave a mighty smack as it hurled against the wood, and Bridget and Anthony could only stare, dumbfounded, as Lin was sucked away into one of her visions of death.

Lily and James's retelling of their first meeting with Salazar Slytherin was rudely interrupted by an overly persistent owl that pecked on the entrance to MHQ until Sirius impatiently leaped over the couch to let it in.

"No one's supposed to know this is here, you know," he informed the bird, frowning.

The owl ignored him and flew across the room to Sophie. It deposited a letter in her lap and flew right out of the room again, taking a nip at Sirius before it finally disappeared down the hallway.

"How rude," Sirius said, letting the entrance slide closed, and he plopped himself back on the couch next to Melody.

They all waited rather awkwardly as Sophie opened the letter, and stared, rather dumbfounded, as she burst into wretched sobs and hurried out of the room. Peter followed her, panicked, and the letter lay forgotten on the floor.

None of them needed to pick it up and read it to know what news it carried, but Sirius did anyway.

"Dear Ms. Fullcox, we regret to inform you that a Mr. and Mrs. Terrence Fullcox were the victims of an attack this evening at their home in Edinburgh. Mrs. Fullcox was found dead at the scene, and Mr. Fullcox has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for treatment for an unknown number and variety of curses. We advise you to please come to St. Mungo's as soon as you can--blah blah fine print--we apologize for your loss, sincerely, Allister Wrankstitch, Dark Force Defense League, Ministry of Magic, London."

A dreadful silence settled over the room.

"That poor girl," Lily said finally, blinking back distant tears that were attempting to form behind her eyes.

They all glanced awkwardly at each other for a moment.

"I think," Remus said softly, "perhaps we should continue this another time."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "It would--would be a shame for either of them to miss the good stuff."

They all glanced over at the chair that Sophie and Peter usually occupied, and then looked awkwardly away. They fidgeted through another moment of terrible silence, before Lily said, "I'm hungry. I think I'll go have a bite to eat."

They all murmured that food sounded good, and together they traipsed down to the Great Hall for a very somber meal.

Lily and James had been getting very physical lately. Whatever had changed between them in the past had also changed the way they...related to each other. Once or twice they'd nearly--well, but they hadn't. Every time, something held them back.

Tonight, though...maybe not.

Lily and James had retreated to one of their favorite spots--the fourth floor room hidden behind the dragon tapestry--and for a while just sat in silence, staring at the fire. Eventually they started talking about Sophie and her parents, and that led to talk of Voldemort and Aurors and life after graduation. That talk led to fear and uncertainty and a particularly mushy moment in which Lily and James looked at each other and said they didn't want to lose each other, and then massive snogging commenced.

And now they were...here, with their hands all over each other in various inappropriate places. In a moment, James's lips were straying to inappropriate places. In the next, Lily's shirt came off. She fumbled to relieve James of his. They'd been this far before, skin pressed against skin, hands and lips brushing over the unfamiliar parts of each other's bodies. Lily loved the feeling of James against her, James all over her.

Little by little, their hands were straying downward, downward--their kissing intensified, their bodies flushed--they fumbled awkwardly to get their pants off--

And then, suddenly, James was pressing against her--a very unfamiliar part of James--a very--

Quite astonishingly, at that very moment an image of Amos Diggory popped into Lily's head. Amos Diggory, with a baby on his lap and baby spittle all down his front, his home a complete mess, a stack of dirty diapers in the background and his wife passed out from exhaustion on the couch. Pregnant again, no less.

It was a very detailed and poignant vision.

Quite suddenly, Lily became acutely aware that she did not want James and his--little James--anywhere near her and her--little Lily. As she'd told Melody, a baby was the last thing she could handle right now, and at the moment she and James were rather ill-equipped--well, that is to say, they hadn't quite planned to--they didn't exactly have anything that would stop--

"James--James, I can't," Lily gasped, and tried to wriggle out from under him.

"Lil--Lily, what?" James's voice was rather tight and a little deeper than usual.

"I can't, I'm sorry--I'm so sorry--" Lily shoved James away and fell off the couch onto the floor, rolling away from James. She scrambled to fasten her pants and pull her shirt back on.

"Lily--Lily, please," James's voice cracked oddly. He sounded haggard. Lily glanced up at him, ashamed. Her cheeks were still flushed--her whole body still tingled, still felt tight and hot and--

"James, I just--I just don't know if I can--" She shook her head and finished putting her shirt on. "I have to go."

"Lily, I--"

"I'm sorry," she said, and hurried out of the room, ignoring the way her body was screaming at her to screw logic and turn back.

Lily curled up on the couch in the Ravenclaw Common Room and tried to evaluate her life. It had been so cold lately, and the fire looked so warm she wished she could just melt into it. Things were so...surreal, almost. Her life in the past month had been...impossible. She couldn't believe she'd died, come back to life, re-fused her soul, traveled a thousand years back into the past, and finally managed to tell James she loved him...among other things. And now, they'd...well, they'd almost...

A hot flush crept through Lily's body just thinking about it. Maybe she didn't need the fire after all. Maybe all she needed was to creep out and see James...maybe she just needed one more look at him to know...to know if she was ready to...

She jumped as a loud noise came from the entrance to the common room. She whirled around to see the stone shifting and a cloaked figure entering.

"Who is that? It's way past curfew. I don't want to dock points from my own house, but--"

"It's me," came a familiar voice, and the cloak of the hood fell back, revealing long blond hair.

"Melody," Lily said, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Melody glanced at Lily and then her gaze fell on the carpet. "I need to talk to you."

"Melody, it's almost three in the--"

"I know," Melody said, walking over to the couch and hesitating by the end. "Can I--can I sit down?"

A crease appeared between Lily's eyebrows. "Melody, of course you can, but what's--"

"Lily, don't hate me," Melody whispered, sinking onto the plush blue cushions, still not looking Lily in the eye.

Lily froze and stared at her. Melody still refused to meet her gaze. She was staring pointedly at the floor, not moving, her fingers fiddling madly with the edges of her cloak.

"Melody, what's going on?" Lily urged, her heart picking up an irregular, nervous beat. If anything had happened to Melody's family--but no, Melody didn't look heartbroken, she looked more--ill and...guilty, really. If she had pulled another stupid prank--or gotten into some kind of horrible trouble--or--Lily couldn't even think. "Melody," she repeated, grabbing one of Melody's hands in an attempt to stop her fiddling with the cloak. It made Melody look nervous, and the more nervous Melody looked, the more nervous Lily felt.

For the first time Melody met her friend's gaze. "You can't judge me," she whispered, her eyes wide. Lily blinked and stared at her, unsure of what to say.

"Just tell me what's going on, Melody."

"Promise me. Promise you won't judge me."

Lily's head was spinning. Obviously whatever Melody was about to tell her, Lily was going to judge her on. But she said "I promise," anyway.

Melody registered this and then stared at Lily a moment more before speaking.

"Lily...I think I might be pregnant."