Something's Gotta Give

Something's Gotta Give

"So be on guard, who knows what the Fates have in store

From their vast mysterious sky.

I'll try hard to ignore those lips I adore

But how long can anyone try?

Fight it with all of our might

Chances are, some heavenly star-studded night

You'll find out as sure as we live

Something's really got to give."

- Sammy Davis, Jr.

To Make Lovers of Friends Part VII

November 11, Year 7

Sirius Black scowled to himself as he watched James watch Lily. She was across the room, ruffling the hair of some second year she'd agreed to tutor and James hadn't removed his eyes from her for a solid five minutes.

Was the girl blind or just dumb?

Exasperated, he looked at the one person who seemed to understand. Remus Lupin had an amused smile working its way across his features. He met Sirius' gaze and shrugged. "You know how it is," he seemed to say. "There's nothing we can do. It'll happen when they're ready."

Which wouldn't be problem, except that they were driving Sirius mad in the process.

James with his annoying and moon-shiny patience and Lily with her blushing and utter naivety about the entire situation.

Just as he thought it, Lily looked up and caught James' gaze, her head still half-bent in the act of writing and a sheet of hair falling over her shoulder. Sure enough, she turned rosy red, managed a small smile in return of James' grin and turned back to the second year, her eyes sparkling as they hadn't been some twenty seconds earlier.

Sirius rolled his eyes and groaned.

Un-bloody-believable.

The noise seemed to wrench James from his stupor because he turned and looked at him. "Something the matter, Padfoot?"

Sirius deeply considered telling him that he was sick of them dancing around it like this (in a loud voice so that Lily would hear too), but then he looked at James and knew he wouldn't be thanked for it. James' skull was thick as troll's hide when he chose for it to be and if he was set on something, nothing less than hell's personal army was going to change his mind. So - after a resigned glance with Remus - Sirius merely said,

"Just sick of Transfiguration."

James handed him his newly printed essay.

"There's footnotes in the back. Interchange some of the footnotes with the text and you should be fine."

Sirius muttered thanks and pretend got to work. He did need to write the essay but he was planning on using breakfast time tomorrow. Tonight he didn't feel like it.

Pushing his chair backwards, he leaned it back on two legs and put his feet on the table, pretending to look over James' essay.

"Sirius, you do realize it's rather difficult to work when your feet are on half of the books?" Remus asked mildly, tapping one dragon hide boot with his quill.

"Hang work," Sirius muttered vehemently but he removed his legs so that Remus could do as he wished. Remus did not thank him, only continued scratching out his own Transfiguration essay with occasional references to the books in front of him.

Bored, Sirius glanced around.

"Where's Pete?"

"Detention," James answered immediately. "You know how Bridle is. When Pete's Stunner went awry and hit him, he got a little peeved."

Sirius snorted.

"It was worth it to see Bridle flat on his back though. The bastard."

"He's not that bad," Lily declared, choosing the seat next to Remus and sitting down. "Demanding maybe, but just because he won't tolerate anything from you two does not make him unreasonable."

Sirius mimicked her wordlessly and Lily arched a brow. Her lips twitched as she turned from him, giving her away.

The smile died, though, as her eyes fell on the large pile of books in front of her. She sighed tiredly and gazed at them for a long moment as though willing them to disappear. Then, taking a deep breath, she reached for the nearest one and got to work.

The small table fell into silence.

Reluctantly, Sirius followed suit and took out his own essay.



James looked back down, grinning, after meeting Lily's eyes across the table for what was probably the fifteenth time in three minutes. He wasn't sure what was going on exactly but whatever it was gave him a warm, glowing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She was it.

He turned back to his doodling.

He was finished with his work but he was pretending not to be so as to have an excuse to remain sitting there, his right knee resting against her thigh under the table. Looking consideringly at his sketch, James thought carefully before adding a few strokes to the left side of the drawing. There. A perfect likeness of the Giant Squid.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder and half-grunted in amusement. He gave James a look that told him he knew exactly what he was doing and then turned back to his essay.

James ignored him and got to work on a different doodle.

It had been three weeks.

Three weeks that stretched across an entire lifetime.

In three weeks, he'd been named sole owner of Windhaven House, granted full guardianship of his sister at his request, had had the entire Potter fortune put under his name before it could fall into the hands of wayward goblins, and had been assaulted by an uncountable number of creditors, bankers, lawyers and all other manner of annoying individuals.

He'd also been orphaned.

It was strange that people seemed to put things in that order.

All of the people he'd met in the last couple weeks jumped on him about Windhaven or his sudden position as surrogate parent or his family's money and then - tacked on to the end - "so sorry about your parents."

James' response was always the same - polite but cold. Quick and decisive change of subject. If even one of them had acted as though they truly cared, he may have responded differently. But as it was...

James looked down at his watch and then at the map he'd surreptitiously hid under his Transfiguration book.

Andy should have been back by now, but according to the map she was still in Professor McGonagall's office. Her dot stood completely still while Professor McGonagall's dot appeared to pace her study.

James was willing to bet his N.E.W.T.'s that McGonagall was doing a lot of talking and Andy was doing a lot of polite zoning out.

She was not doing well.

She refused to eat, rarely spoke, avoided people, and ignored her classes. It was like whatever life had been in her before was gone. She didn't even cry. She only sat and stared and looked horribly lost.

Thanks to nightmares, she hadn't slept since they'd returned to Hogwarts except in short bursts when fatigue claimed ownership of her body.

Madam Pomfrey staunchly refused to give her Sleeping Draughts; the mixture was unhealthy to those still growing and damaging when taken excessively.

Professor McGonagall insisted that Andy needed counseling and was ready to provide herself at any hour of the day, or else a list of people they could contact. Hagrid had devoted himself to finding the furriest and most curious creatures available in Britain in the hopes of reigniting her interest. And Andromeda Tonks had offered their home if Andy wanted some time away from Hogwarts with the express opinion that Dora would do her good.

For himself, James had no brilliant ideas. He didn't know how to help her.

He only knew that she seemed most at peace when she was him. And so he tried to be with her as often as possible.

Becoming aware of the growing lateness and Andy's persisting tardiness, James checked his watch and then the map. Two dots were walking down a second floor corridor and would be arriving at Gryffindor tower in roughly four minutes.

Figuring on getting some last minute reading in for the test tomorrow, James opened his Transfiguration text and began scanning pages, not really taking anything in and unconsciously tapping the point of his quill agitatedly against the table.

He was startled when a cool pressure closed around his wrist, stopping his quill.

He didn't need to look up to know that the light, smooth weight belonged to Lily.

She squeezed his hand - a confirmation that everything would be okay - and James found himself letting out a lot of breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He felt his shoulder muscles uncurl and his hand unclench around his quill.

He dropped it onto the table with a clatter, then turned his palm upward and folded his fingers around hers.

Then he looked up at her.

Her green eyes looked calmly and steadily back at him.

If nothing else in the world was, this was okay.



Four days later...

It was requiring a gargantuan effort to keep her eyes from closing.

Somehow, Lily didn't think McGonagall would react well to her dropping her head onto her desk and starting to snore.

She was just...so...sleepy...

With the effort of her life, she forced her eyes open once more.

She hadn't slept last night.

Or the night before that.

She'd had a horrible dream.

To this instant, she could not remember what it had been about. She knew only that something very, very precious to her had been ripped from her and destroyed.

She'd woken shaking and gasping, sweat and tears blending together.

She'd gathered her pillow and blankets and gone down to the common room, situating herself in a chair close to where James dozed lightly with Andy in his lap.

Last night, she hadn't even tried to sleep. She didn't ever want to feel that complete and total loss again. Instead she'd stayed up with Andy, letting James get the sleep he'd so desperately needed.

There were bags under all of their eyes.

Remus' for taking over half of James' night watches so that James could stay with Andy, her own from patrol duty and nightmares and James. James' from staying up night after night with his sister and juggling Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, and regular school responsibilities on top of it. And Sirius' and Peter's from staying awake with the rest of them, attempting to share and lighten the burden with jokes, feasts nicked from the kitchens, and waiting arms when the shoulders of those who had to be strong got weak.

Lily glanced over and saw that Sirius was making no pretense of wakefulness. His head was on his desk, face pillowed on his textbook, hair falling in his eyes, his mouth wide open and snoring lightly.

Remus had his chin rested on his palm, his usually busy pen lying on his desk, and his eyes rather glazed. Peter appeared to be nodding off, jerking his head upward every few moments in a grand effort to stay awake. Only James was paying attention to a word McGonagall was saying.

Lily had no idea how he was doing it.

From diagonally behind him, Lily watched the black head bent over its parchment, elegant hand moving the quill furiously back and forth across the page.

It was almost as though he thrived on the challenge. The harder things got, the higher James rose. It wasn't that he was enjoying the dare, but that he knew he had to answer it - or die.

It was the decision they all faced...

James chose that moment to feel her gaze and look back at her. Instead of flushing and turning away as she usually did, Lily simply smiled at him and felt a warm glow when he smiled dazzlingly back.

The sudden sound of her name brought Lily's attention crashing back to Professor McGonagall.

"Ms. Evans, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, Ms. Meadowes, and Mr. Pettigrew," McGonagall read off a list. Her lips had folded into a thin line and her eyes flashed with something Lily could not quite define. It was irritation but there was something else besides.

"The Headmaster has requested to speak with you all. The rest of you are dismissed."

There were puzzled glances from their fellow Gryffindors as they filed out. Lily glanced over at Dorcas Meadowes after exchanging confused glances with James. The imperial, silver-haired girl inclined her head in acknowledgement of McGonagall's request, seemingly oblivious to the hissing from her fellow Slytherins.

Lily knew her vaguely. They shared a few advanced classes in Ancient Runes and Healing Arts together, but had never spoken. She had a calm and imposing manner, enhanced by the way her eyebrows arched in question, as though she was far above the world around her.

McGonagall cleared her throat loudly then, marched over to the fire, and threw a handful of powder into the flames.

"Albus!" She called impatiently, tapping her foot. Seconds later, Dumbledore's face appeared. He took in the rather murderous looking woman in front of him and smiled genially.

"Ah, Minerva! Our young friends are ready, then?"

"They're ready," she snapped. "Albus, I'm afraid I really don't-"

"We have little choice," he spoke over her. The twinkling light in his blue eyes was missing as he gazed sadly back at her. "I do not like this anymore than you do, Minerva, but there are times in this life that we must do what we'd rather not. It has to be done."

McGonagall sniffed in displeasure - her eyes oddly glassy - but nodded. Dumbledore smiled gently.

"Please send them to my office through this fire. I shall be waiting. And Minerva, I request that you come as well."

She nodded.

"Very well." She turned away from the fire and closed her eyes. She seemed to gather herself for a moment, before setting her eyes fiercely on the six of them. "Collect your things," she ordered. "We are going to the Headmaster's office. You will be eating lunch there."

One by one they appeared in Dumbledore's office fire and one by one stepped out. Dumbledore was waiting for them. He shook each of their hands, smiling pleasantly, and gestured towards the arms chair he'd situated around his desk. The portraits on the walls exchanged glances with one another, a few making grunts of descent and others trying to speak up in protest. Dumbledore silenced them all with a shake of his head. Although, the ever impertinent Phinias Nigellus sent a view choice facial expressions and hand gestures Sirius' way. Pointedly ignoring him, Sirius chose a chair with its back to the portrait of his great uncle and looked around, black eyes narrowing when they fell on Dorcas Meadowes.

Others entered the office.

McGonagall marched in, shortly followed by a feeble looking older man with a hunched back who creaked over to a chair and sat shakily. He leaned his gnarled cane against the armrest before sinking back into the seat as though grateful the walk was over. Hagrid came in, a black puppy nipping at his heels. The dog went into a fit of ecstasy when it saw Dumbledore and immediately jumped all over him.

"Fang, heel!" Hagrid ordered. The pup sat immediately, looking reproachfully at Hagrid for using such a course voice. Hagrid reached down and stroked his fur and minutes later the pup was asleep on Hagrid's large black boot.

When James turned to Lily, she was smiling at the tiny, sleeping form. He moved closer to where she was sitting and she leaned her head against his side, looking up at him.

"I want a puppy," she informed him.

"Do you now?" he asked, looking down at her, a grin tugging at his lips.

She nodded.

"Any particular breed?"

She shook her head and continued to gaze up at him.

They were lost that way for several minutes before the sound of Remus' pointed cough brought them back to reality. Lily looked away from James and towards the door where two more people had just arrived, shedding their blue cloaks as they entered and looking around.

"Yes, Ms. Sweeney, Mr. McKinnon. Come in, come in." Dumbledore welcomed them too with handshakes, and bid them sit down.

There was room for five more.

Above one of the empty chairs sat Phinias Nigellus, arms folded across his chest and an expression of the utmost repugnance on his face. Lily's eyes fell to Sirius to see if he'd noticed, but he was gazing somewhere else; with an expression of dislike that matched his great uncle's in enormity.

His black eyes were trained darkly on the figure of Dorcas Meadowes. She stood half in shadow at the edge of the circle, arms draped at her sides, features set in an expression of majestic calm. Sirius' look was exactly opposite of hers. His eyes burnt, his mouth was grim, every muscle in his body was taut, ready for a fight if she'd give him one.

Dorcas Meadowes only arched an eyebrow when she caught his stare and then proceeded to dismiss him with a little shrug and turned away. Sirius' eyes flared at the action and his lip curled slightly. Lily watched Remus elbow him in the ribs and mutter something with a grin and a nod towards McGonagall, effectively distracting Sirius.

Except that his eyes continued to flick over to the girl.

And - occasionally - hers would flick to him in return.

The door opened for a fourth time.

A brick wall of a man stepped in, brown skin cragged with scars and gun grey hair matted.

"Alastor," Dumbledore greeted, walking over and shaking the shorter, stockier man's hand profusely. His blue eyes were solemn as they stared down into the sharp, bright, black ones. "Thank you for coming, my friend."

Moody nodded and laid a thick hand on Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Wouldn't have missed it, Albus. Proud to be here."

With another sharp nod, he slipped his hand away and looked around at the circle of students staring at him. He stopped when his eyes met James'. Moody gazed intently at him for a few moments before walking over and clasping his hand.

"James Potter," he said in his growl of a voice. "Knew your father. Great man. Great Auror. I was sorry - very sorry - to hear of his death. There's no one in the league who could ever take his place."

He paused, his black eyes probing James' with a look that suggested he could see right through him.

"You planning on trying?" he growled.

Lily watched James' eyes harden, meeting the challenge in Moody's eyes point to point.

"No, sir," he answered in a cold voice. He felt the anger bubbling in him; he'd been accused of taking advantage of his father's position one too many times in the last month...

James set his jaw against the rising temptation to punch the knowing face in front of him and, in as calm and hard a voice he could muster, said evenly,

"My father's place will remain his. I intend to make my own."

Moody stared piercingly at him for a long moment before his face cracked into a large grin.

"Damned if that wasn't what I needed to hear," he declared, laughing heartily. He clapped James hard on the back. "You'll do just fine, boy. You'll do just fine."

With those final words and a satisfied glint in his eye, Moody settled himself in a seat two chairs down. He nodded to Dumbledore across the room in affirmation of something.

The door opened a last time and a group of Hufflepuffs stepped in.

Dumbledore ensured that they were all seated comfortably and then moved to take a seat himself. With Moody and Hagrid on either side like sentries, he sat and placed his elbows on the rests, hands together as though in prayer.

Everyone quieted and looked at him expectantly.

Lily felt James fold his arms over the back of her chair and lean on them, waiting.

But Dumbledore seemed in no hurry. After a moment, he seemed to remember something and waved his hand. Small tables laden with food appeared in front of each of them. They looked at one another questioningly and then began eating quietly.

Still Dumbledore said nothing.

He appeared to wondering where to begin.



Lily struggled to think clearly, laboring through a swamp of thoughts as heavy and dense as though she were wading through mud. She couldn't get her mind through one thing before it was squelched out of her grasp by another just as syrupy thick.

To her left, Sirius slammed his fist loudly into his palm, startling her.

"Somebody's got to, damn it! You don't see anyone else doing any good."

He was talking to Peter.

Lily stared at him in vague fascination. His voice was hoarse with emotion, eyes shining blacker then she'd ever seen them, his skin pale and damp as though with fever.

She couldn't take in what he was saying at the moment.

What Dumbledore had had to say was more than enough to think about.

"There is a simple reason I have called you all here today - you are the best that I trust.

"Our current defenses against Lord Voldemort are crumbling."

"Our Ministry is defective, overrun by those bearing the mark of the Death Eater..."

"Our Auror League - it has recently been discovered - has been infiltrated with spies. And the Aurors that remain loyal are tired..."

"Meanwhile, our families are being torn apart, friends murdered. People we've never met, but feel for all the same, are being tortured and left to die, Muggles among them..."

"Our world is waning fast..."

Feeling his words acutely, Lily had reached her hand up for James', seeking reassurance. Either because he'd sensed it or because he'd needed the same from her, James' hand had met hers halfway. Their fingertips brushed...and then clasped together, her hand enveloped in his larger one.

Then Dumbledore had dropped the bomb.

"And here you all are - our Head Boy and Girl, three prefects, two Quidditch captains interestingly enough. Five Gryffindors, three Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, and one Slytherin."

"We need you."

"It is an old organization, conceived by Merlin to provide help in times of great trouble."

"It's called the Order of the Phoenix."

"We are resurrecting it."

Around her, her classmates walked in varying states of agitation. Sirius and Peter argued their different viewpoints. Remus gazed straight ahead, brown eyes conveying that he hadn't quite gotten his brain around the idea either. James walked next to Sirius and Peter in silence, face pale, jaw set determinedly, with a look in his hazel eyes that made her more uneasy then Sirius' outright rebellion.

Sawyer McKinnon had slung his arm around Marlene Sweeney's shoulders and their heads were bent together, conversing in frantic whispers. Benji Fenwick looked to be listening faintly to Sirius' and Peter's conversation but his eyes were elsewhere. Charles Dearborn stared at the ground, hands shoved deep into his pockets, lost in thought.

In contrast, Dorcas Meadowes fairly floated down the corridor in front of them, chin tilted at such an angle as to suggest she hadn't a care in the world.

The same thought was on all of their minds:

What do we do?

They could not refuse. By refusing, they turned their backs on the wizarding world. They denied their help when help was needed. They could not, in good conscience, refuse.

But nor could they accept.

They had their own lives to live. They needed to grow up more, experience more, do more. Were they to put everything they'd ever wanted on hold? Devote their lives to this one cause? What of their dreams? Their families? For surely if You-Know-Who found them out, their families would be hunted.

How much more could they be asked to give?

And what would be left of them when all of this was finished?

What would be left?

Lily barely noticed when they finally did reach Gryffindor tower. She entered the common room and went straight to her dormitory, just barely murmuring an excuse to the boys. She didn't hear it if they replied.

She needed to think.



James exhaled deeply and tipped the bottle of Butterbeer to his lips.

They'd all needed one.

While he and Remus had managed to clear everyone out of the Common Room with dire threats of detention and docked points, Sirius and Peter had whisked away to Hogsmeade and secured the largest case of alcoholic beverages they could find.

It was about half gone.

"So what now?" Remus asked.

It was the million Galleon question and none of them seemed to have an answer. Mostly because the question held a different meaning for each of them.

Peter's question was did he or did he not join.

Sirius' question was how to best start kicking some Death Eater ass now that he was legally certified to do so.

Remus' question was more of how to approach joining.

James' question was what to do about the rest of his life now that he was in the Order.

He'd been in the organization the second its name had left Dumbledore's lips. It was what he had been waiting for. And what had been waiting for him.

The question now was what about Andy?

And what about Lily?

He wondered if it was fair to subject them to the life he would be leading.

He knew that Lily would never want him to hold back because of her. She would never dream of keeping him from something that he had and wanted to do.

Andy...

He wasn't so sure about.

She'd lost so many, what if she lost him as well?

What if he was killed?

These were the questions spinning around James' mind as he lifted the Butterbeer bottle to his lips. Fortunately, while his friends wanted him there, they didn't require speech. They just needed his presence. And he just needed theirs.



Lily stayed in the bathtub until the bubbles had all but disappeared and her skin had gone wrinkled and pruny. Head tilted back against the rim of the tub and hair piled on top of it, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. To think. She could think clearer when she was relaxed.

Okay.

Focus.

Her eyes popped open again and she let out a noise of frustration.

For consolation, she reached out and selected another brownie from the platter; courtesy of a house-elf who had become quite anxious over finding her so distressed. This one had M&Ms on it and Lily carefully nibbled those off before taking a large bite.

Why couldn't the rest of the world be as uncomplicated a pleasure as chocolate brownies? Where all one had to worry about was picking out the pecans and whether they wanted three or an even four?

She eyed the platter and decided she'd probably rounded off a half-dozen. So on top of everything, her complexion was going to go spotty.

Realizing this, Lily groaned and dunked her head under the water.

Just what she needed.

It was a shame that the only consolation for it was more chocolate.

Or James.

Usually the thought of him would have made her grin and it did for a second. But then Lily remembered the road hanging above them all like an axe and the smile died on her lips.

What in the name of God were they going to do?

What was she going to do?

She didn't mind helping. She didn't mind working to destroy You-Know-Who. She didn't mind devoting her work in Charms to the aim of his downfall. She did mind devoting her life to him.

He'd taken too much from her already, damn it! She wasn't going to give him anything else. He'd have to pry it from her dead fingers before...

That particular thought trailed off as another one dawned.

I could die.

The thought had honestly never occurred to her. She'd considered being attacked, her family being attacked, but she'd never thought about being killed.

It was an alien and strange feeling to contemplate one's death. And yet...

It was with certainty. Like she was looking onto a matter-of-fact future.

She would die.

And Voldemort would be the one to take her life.

She wondered why that made her so calm.

She wondered why she could now say his name to herself.

Lily sat up and lifted the plug to let the tub drain. Vacantly, she stood, climbed out, and wrapped a towel around herself. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye.

She looked serene. She looked like someone who knew what was ahead of her and how she was going to get there.

And she did.

And had, she realized. And maybe that's what had made her fight everything so hard.

She wanted to live.

Her reflection's eyes flashed with resolve.

She would.

She'd build her Charms. Give Voldemort all the trouble she could and make him pay for every pain he'd ever caused. And she'd do it within the support and bounds of the Order of the Phoenix.

Lily's chin rose defiantly.

Voldemort might take her life in the end, but she'd live first.

She'd look after her family and care for her friends.

She'd love James and she would marry him.

The thought caused heat to rise to her cheeks, but it was not for strangeness. She looked at her reflection again. It knew.

She'd have his child.

The thought sent shivers all the way through her body. And in the lowest, most inner part of her belly, something stirred.



"It'll feel good, won't it?" Sirius said suddenly.

"What?" James asked.

"Doing something," Sirius stated emphatically, half rising from his horizontal position on the sofa. "Actually helping instead of hiding out here while other people are dying. You guys don't feel useless sometimes? We sit on our asses in Transfiguration while there are hundreds out there risking their lives for us and we don't give them a second -"

Sirius' rant ended abruptly, perhaps thinking of the Potters. After a moment, he added quietly, "Anyway, it'll just be nice to help back, you know?"

"Yeah," James said slowly. "Reckon it will."

Peter made a noise of agreement, but Remus was silent, gazing at the fire.

No one else said anything. Sirius plopped back down, folded his arms beneath his head, and stared at the ceiling. Silence fell.

After a long while, Remus asked,

"Do you think we should check on Lily?"

"She needs time alone, I think," James answered thoughtfully. "She knows we're here and she'll come down when she wants us."

Again, no one made a move to continue conversation. Each was lost inside their own mind. The only noise came from the cheerful crackling of the fire.

"Last round," Remus said and passed around the last four Butterbeers. They popped them open and looked at each other.

"To doing something," Remus said, raising his bottle.

Sirius grinned.

"To kicking some Death Eater ass."

Their Butterbeers chinked together. Peter raised his next.

"To the Order," he declared.

They all looked at James. He looked back at them, feeling something slipping away that they could never get back again. A lump in his throat, he raised his bottle.

"To the Marauders," he said quietly.

"Amen," Sirius declared.

They downed their drinks as one.

Sirius was the first to finish and stood, tossing his empty bottle uncaringly over his shoulder. He disappeared for a few moments and then came back, carrying a large wooden box.

James and Remus looked at him in confusion.

He grinned wickedly and set the crate down between them all with a thud.

"So, boys," he said, standing and raising his eyebrows in challenge. "Who's up for round two?"



It was late when Lily changed into her pajamas, wrapped her robe around her, and padded down the stairs. She wasn't surprised to find James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter already in the common room, talking in front of a roaring fire.

She stopped for a moment and just looked. Firelight carved lines onto their faces, etching time there that should not have been. Sirius was sprawled over the sofa, dragon hide boots propped up on the arm rest. James was on the floor next the Sirius' head, back leaning on the sofa, and legs bent and parted in front of him. His long fingers languidly twirled a bottle of Butterbeer as he spoke. Peter sat in the arm chair, a worried frown between his brows, listening. Remus stood next to the fire - unable to relax enough to sit - taking a thoughtful swallow of Butterbeer before replying.

Their voices were soft, meant only for each other.

Lily took a deep breath and then turned to go back up the stairs. She didn't want to spoil it.

"Don't go, Lils."

Remus' voice stopped her just as her foot had touched the first step. She turned around. He was looking at her from his place by the fire.

"It's alright," she said quietly. "I just wanted..."

She trailed off, unable to put what she'd wanted in words. She'd just wanted to be with them. Not for comfort but for...something.

Lily stood on the bottommost step and bit her lip, torn.

"Don't leave, Lily," James' voice said softly.

The words that were both a plea and a command called to her. She stepped down from the stairs at once and went to him. She didn't question it or speak or think; she just walked over and settled herself between his legs, leaning back against his chest.

One word filled her brain as a deep sigh shook its way out of her:

Finally.

James' only response was to wrap his arms around her waist and secure her more tightly against him. Her heart pounded furiously as his strength slipped over her.

She did not miss the looks Sirius, Remus, and Peter were shooting one another. She knew James didn't either when she felt him chuckle soundlessly.

No one spoke, however, and it passed as though it were the natural thing.

The boy's conversation continued.

Lily sat and half-listened, not taking part and not fully there. Her eyes felt as though sandbags had been attached to them so she let them close. Her body rose and fell in perfect time to James' while his fingers made gentle patterns where they touched her. At peace at last, her mind floated blissfully away into...

When Lily opened her eyes again, it was silent.

James' arms were still wrapped tightly around her but his breathing was deep and even and she knew he was sleeping. A snore from behind her informed her that Sirius was dead to the world as well and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at the inelegant sound issuing from him. Peter was fast asleep, slumped in his chair and a purple pillow propped behind his head. Remus had taken the other sofa and was fast asleep, one arm across his stomach, the other thrown over his eyes. Lily had to grin at his prone form.

Beneath and behind her, James shifted.

"You awake?" he whispered gravelly, sleep filling his voice.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured.

"My head hurts."

Lily snorted slightly.

"Must have been the nine Butterbeers," she whispered.

"Must have been," James agreed, laying his aching forehead on her shoulder.

Without thinking about it, Lily reached her hand up and entwined her fingers in his hair, running them through it and marveling at the softness.

From deep in his throat, James made a noise of pleasure that caused her to blush though no one was around to see.

"Why don't we just stay here and you can do that for the rest of the night?" James muttered, his voice muffled by her hair.

"And what would I get out of it exactly?" she teased.

He propped his chin on her shoulder - causing her fingers to slip to the nape of his neck - and appeared to consider her question.

"What do you want?"

"Mmmm...a party."

"A party? What kind?"

"A great big party with lots and lots of food and dancing and everyone would be invited so that they could come and just...forget for a little while."

James was quiet for a long moment. Then in a soft voice, he asked,

"What's the occasion?"

Lily turned to look at him, wondering at the seriousness in his eyes. With her free hand, she traced lightly the scar that ran across his left cheek bone, remembering vividly the day he'd gotten it.

Fifth year.

Just after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.

She wondered vaguely why he'd left it.

Then she remembered he'd asked her a question.

"We'll just have to come up with a good reason," she informed him, tapping his nose with her finger and smiling. Then she turned around and settled back against him again.

"James?" she asked after a few moments of silence. "Are we going to stay like this all night?"

He had a simple answer.

"Yes."

.



James stood on the highest bench of the stadium, broom clasped loosely in his hand. Above, before, and below him stretched the Quidditch pitch.

This had been his turf for seven years. It didn't matter what anybody else or the outside world had to say about it, this was his.

There were no questions in Quidditch.

Just the rules of the game, his teammates, the Quaffle, the goalposts, and him on a broom where he belonged.

Here he was perfect.

He'd just played his last Quidditch game.

Score had been 340 to 190.

Gryffindor's win.

Quidditch games and Hogsmeade visits were now cancelled for the rest of the year in light of a threat that had reached Hogwarts at nine that morning, minutes before the Quaffle had been released. Dumbledore - after speaking with the two teams - had declared that this game would go on. And may it be a good one, so that it sate the school's appetite for awhile.

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had done their best.

Tied score until the second Vivian St. Clair caught the Snitch.

It had been one hell of a game.

To James, it seemed as though the shrieks and calls of the students still hung in the air around the empty stands. He could still feel the pound and rush of the wind.

But empty the stands would remain.

And he'd never play in a game again.

In another life, he'd have gone professional. But here, in this one, his purpose was another game; his team not England's hope, but the hope of the entire wizarding world as they knew it.

The stakes were a hundred times higher.

They had to win.

In Quidditch there was always an option; you could win or you could lose.

In this game, there were no options. They. Had. To. Win.

Maybe they didn't know how yet or when or even why, but they had to.

No matter the cost.

It was a thought that hardened his features and mouth, but his next sensation was one of irresolution. It was a turn in the pit of his stomach that upset everything.

What about Andy?

He was here for her as long as he was alive, but what if he was dead?

What would happen if he too was taken away from her?

He needed to talk to her, James decided. Tell her, explain to her, even...even ask her. But to do that he needed Dumbledore's permission.

James took firmer hold of his broom, slung a long leg over it, and hovered for a second above the pitch. This was goodbye. Not just to the pitch, but to his youth.

It was seven months before graduation and he was already done.

He hovered for a few more minutes.

He would go speak with Dumbledore...

Just after he did a few, steep dives.



In a shadowed area of the stands, Sirius grinned to himself and sheathed his wand. He'd stayed, seeing James' hesitation and worrying over the threat they'd gotten that morning. Maybe it had been stupid, but that's what he was here for.

He was James' best friend.

Till the end.

Whenever that brutal, bloody time came.

Sirius watched James dive and loop for a few more moments before turning and heading back towards the castle. He wasn't worried about him anymore.

In the air, James was unbeatable.



Andy was quiet for a long time, gazing at the lion-engraved table in front of her, curly hair falling in front of her face and obscuring it from view. James watched her in silence, feeling very much as though his very fate was hanging in balance. From his perch in the corner, Fawkes the phoenix trilled softly.

Finally, Andy raised her head, gray eyes clear, hard, and shiny.

"Fine," she said, her voice hard like glass and shattering. "Do it. Go after him." The words seemed wrenched from somewhere inside of her and she stood forcibly. "Make him pay. I don't care anymore."

She took a paperweight from the desk and flung it across the room. She stared accusingly at him.

"You're no different, are you? It's the same! It's always the same, you and Dad! It's about revenge. You're going to see that he pays for what he's done and never mind the others that you hurt and maim in the process!"

"This is not about revenge, Andy," James argued, voice rising.

She let out a half-laugh.

"Of course it's not. Just like Dad killing the Morge's wasn't. I'm not stupid! You all think I'm a dumb little girl who doesn't see anything. Dad got himself killed! And he got Mm killed. And for what? Vengeance!"

"Dad was an Auror, Andy, he was a target regardless. We all were. And hunting Death Eaters was his job."

"You mean it was his excuse!" Her hoarse voice broke.

James looked hard at her.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that our father hunted Death Eaters because he hated them as the Death Eaters do to Muggles. I'm saying he was no better than they are. I'm saying that he sacrificed our family for payback. I'm saying he as good as killed Mum because she never would have been touched if it hadn't been for him. She tended Death Eaters."

Andy's voice had quieted and she was staring at him intently.

"Did you know that? No. Probably not. Mum was an angel. She Healed men who others wouldn't touch and never asked what they'd done; she just took care of them. And then sent them to the Auror Agency to be dealt with. And the Aurors killed most of them. Dad killed most of them. And you're just like him!"

She grew deadly quiet.

"I will not be sacrificed again. You do whatever the hell you want. I. Don't. Care."

She spun around furiously and marched towards the door.

"Don't you dare walk out, Raeanne Josephine Potter!" James commanded. Andy stopped, turned, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at him. James walked towards her.

"I did not tell you this to ask your permission. I told you so that I could explain my reasons and so that you wouldn't be hurt. I was quiet and let you have your say; you will sit and allow me mine."

"Fine," she shot back. "But I'll stand, thank you."

"You'll sit," James ordered in a low voice. Their eyes bore into each others for a long moment then Andy stalked forward and threw herself into the nearest chair, maintaining the crossed arms, and looking up at him defiantly.

James sat across from her, took a deep breath, and willed himself to be calm and not strangle her.

"I have to do this, Andy. Because I can. Because they need me. Because You-Know-Who has got to be stopped before he does even more damage. Because more and more people are dying every day. Because he'd kill you in a second and he'd kill Lily even faster. She's a Muggleborn! You think I could live with myself if I wasn't doing everything in my power to keep her safe?"

"You could keep her safer and happier by staying with her!" Andy shot back. "How do you think Lily'd feel if you died? How d'you know You-Know-Who wouldn't do something to her to get to you? You're putting her at a higher risk for your stupid game."

"Lily is going to be apart of the 'stupid game' as you call it! She's in the Order. She's in it. She's realized that there is more at stake here than her life. And my life. And yes, Andy, you're life."

Andy was shaking her head no, tears dripping.

"Yes!" James insisted. "The entire world - not even just the wizarding part but the entire world - is at stake. No single life matters."

"You're wrong!" Andy exploded. "Each life matters. Each one!"

"Not in the way that you're thinking," James corrected quietly. "Each life does matter, Andy. Each life. Whatever life you choose to give your own is the most important thing in the world, and you will never hear me say that that must be given up. What we have to give is our death. We have to be willing to die for our own lives and for the lives of others. That's what Mum and Dad did. And that's what I'm going to do."

Andy was crying now, great gasps that shook her entire body.

But she was sitting upright and her head was high.



James returned late from night duty.

He was worried, walking towards the Fat Lady, what he might find waiting for him. He and Andy had parted three hours ago, having reached some semblance of an understanding. He hoped she'd gone to bed, but he doubted it.

"Uric the Oddball," he muttered and the Fat Lady swung open.

The common room was dark and quiet and James breathed a sigh of relief.

He closed the portrait behind him and shrugged off his cloak, hanging it on the peg closest to him. Thinking about his waiting essays, James turned, thought about his soft bed, and then mentally sent his essays to hell. He'd write them tomorrow.

A figure in front of the fire caught his eye.

He took a step forward and the shadows moved, allowing him to distinguish features.

It was Lily.

Her head was angled downward, hair falling in her face, and she was focused on something. Another step unveiled the subject of interest.

Andy lay there with her head in Lily's lap, fast asleep. Her features were completely relaxed, her breathing even, a few tears lay scattered on her pale face. Lily sat awake, one hand placed protectively on Andy's lower back and the other stroking her hair.

James didn't know how long he stood there, nearly transfixed.

Finally, he cleared his stuck throat and alerted Lily to his presence. She looked up at him, eyes encased with a sheen of tears, and smiled.

Andy was okay.

Everything would be okay.

James sat down beside Lily and her head dropped onto his chest, her body rising and falling on a deep sigh.

They sat that way till morning, nodding off at different intervals, both unwilling to leave the other for their own bed.



Dumbledore had asked them to meet a week later to give their answers.

Everyone had agreed.

Lily's hand shook slightly as she embedded the point of the knife into her palm. A little pressure and blood oozed from it.

She was calm the second she raised her hand above the parchment and allowed the blood to drip down.

She'd made her choice.

The blood pooled and then formed the words,

LILY EVANS



Sirius shot a final glare over his shoulder at Dorcas Meadowes before seizing the knife and quickly slicing his left palm. Bloody Slytherin. What the hell did she think she was doing here?

With a flourish, his signature appeared. No regrets.

SIRIUS BLACK



Remus took the knife and cut through his life line without any hesitation. He wasn't afraid of death. He'd do his part for these people who had given him so much.

He nodded at Dumbledore across the room and held his fist above the parchment.

REMUS LUPIN



The knife hissed disturbingly from the goblet as Remus' blood was cleaned from it. Struggling to ignore his turning stomach, Peter took it carefully.

He couldn't find it in himself to refuse. He'd do what was wanted of him.

Hand shaking, Peter raised the knife and gingerly applied pressure.

PETER PETTIGREW



James held the knife steadily with his right hand, closed his left around it, and wrenched the blade downward resolutely. He opened his palm and his blood spilled down.

JAMES POTTER



James stomach was aching. He hadn't laughed so hard in months.

On the sofa, Sirius pelted Remus with a pillow for his story. Laughing like a jarvey, Remus was unable to defend himself against the onslaught and could only protest weakly between gasps.

"Anyway, it was James' fault," Sirius concluded, finished extracting his revenge and tossing the pillow onto the floor. "It's not like I thought of it." He crumpled his soda can and threw it into the flames, standing and stretching. "I'm wiped."

He looked to the rest of them to see if the laughter had stopped, saw that it hadn't, and flicked them all off before heading towards the staircase.

"It is a quarter till one," Remus said, calm enough now to check his watch. "I think I'm going to bed as well." He drained the last contents of his can and stood. "Pete?"

"I'm coming," Peter said, stretching and standing. "James?"

James stood but moved closer to the fire rather than away from it. He retrieved his book from the mantle and then turned to face Remus and Peter.

"I'm waiting for Lily to get back," he told them.

Remus stared closely at James for a few moments and opened his mouth to say something. But before he could get the words out, the portrait hole opened and Lily stepped in.

Her eyes met James' immediately and they gazed at one another for a long moment, before Lily tore her eyes away and busied herself with her cloak.

"Evening, boys," she said, her back to them.

"Hello, Lily," Peter and Remus said. James stayed silent, watching her

"Everything alright out there?" Remus asked.

"Everything's fine." She turned and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "The only problem was Peeves hanging Mrs. Norris from a chandelier but that was easily dealt with."

"Maybe for you," Remus grinned, pretending not to notice the almost physical electric current pulsing around the room. "I can't get him to listen without the Bloody Baron. I'll see you in the morning, Lily. Good night. C'mon, Pete."

In seconds the two of them were gone, leaving James and Lily alone. Lily kept her back to him, conjuring a cup of hot chocolate and warming herself by the fire.

Every nerve ending in her body was lit with the awareness that James' eyes were on her.

But she didn't turn.

She didn't know what kept her from turning and meeting his gaze. Everything would be solved, if she could just turn around.

She didn't move.



James waited for her to turn around, but he could see that she wasn't going to. Something was holding her back from him.

He knew she loved him, but maybe...maybe she just wasn't ready yet.



"Well...good night, Lily." James said finally.

Lily closed her eyes against the building lump in her throat. She wanted him so badly. It was a physical pain to be so close to him and not be able to touch of him.

But part of her was afraid.

There would be no turning back from what waited ahead if she accepted James. Her life would revolve around whatever they made together and would - in the end - bring her death.

Was she ready for it?

In a blinding flash, Lily spun around to face him - but there was no one there.

He was gone.

A chill started in her chest and worked its way across her body. Lily shivered, swallowed, and turned back to face the rest of the room, strangely empty where she'd felt so full only seconds before.

The boys had left a mess.

Not moving, Lily raised her wand and began vanishing the empty soda cans one by one.

She was unaware of the tears until one trickled out of the corner of her left eye and slid slowly down her face. One from her right eye followed. Then another from her left, and the right, and then they were flowing consecutively like rain, smooth and interrupted as silk. Lily did not even bother to brush them away.

She just let them fall.

Suddenly, strong hands seized her and turned her around and she was looking up into James' face. His breathing was labored and there was a look on his face she'd never seen there before.

He held his thumb up to her face and one of her tears trickled onto and down it, shining like glass. The bead reached the end of his hand, hung there for a second, and dropped off, shattering into tiny glitters as it hit the floor.

"What are all these for?" James asked softly as another dripped down his thumb.

The answer was out of her before she could think about it.

"You."

She'd said it.

And there was no turning back.

James' eyes were on hers suddenly with a look that contained so many emotions - shock, wonder, awareness, fear, and something heart-stopping.

He stepped close to her.

Impossibly close.

His nose was inches from hers.

She could count every one of his black eye lashes.

But he wasn't touching her at all.

Her eyes fell to his lips.

"Lily?" he whispered and she felt her name on her cheek.

"Yes?" Her voice broke on the whisper.

"Can I kiss you?"

Lily's eyelids fluttered closed. She could feel him holding himself back, waiting for her to say it, wanting her to say that she was ready. She opened her eyes and looked into his.

"Yes."

It was barely a whisper.

The first touch of James' lips on hers was barely a whisper.

Hands gentle on either side of her face, James tasted her once...twice...three tender brushes of his mouth on hers. Lily's breath came out shakily through half-parted lips.

Then James shifted his weight and deepened the kiss.

It was as though she'd never truly felt before.

She was aware of every movement, every sensation and emotion that lightninged across her being from the corners where he touched her.

They kissed like lovers.

As though they'd been doing it for forever.

Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck.

His arms moved down and wrapped around her waist, bringing her full against him.

Their mouths broke apart and rested next to each other, gulping down air.

He kissed the corner of her mouth.

Skimmed her bottom lip.

Then took her whole mouth.

Lily gave herself and poured everything she possessed into him, holding back nothing.

James took it all and gave himself in return.

They broke apart and looked at one another.

Everything was understood between them in that moment. A million words were spoken with their eyes, unsteady breaths, and through the strange connection that happens only when two like-souls have found and accepted one another at last.

James leaned down and pressed his lips to Lily's forehead.

Then laid his own against it.

Neither was ever very sure, afterward, how long they stood and breathed each other.



December 23

The doorbell rang at half past seven.

Her hands covered in flour, her apron smudged with chocolate, the phone balanced precariously between her ear and her shoulder, and the pot on the stove beginning to smoke, Rose Evans raised her eyes to the heavens and prayed for strength,

"Petunia! Get the door! Yes, Cheryl, I'll have the fudge done by eight. Yes...yes...I'll see you then. Bye, bye." Click. "Ugh, that woman!"

It was December 23. Rose Evans had been baking solidly for the last twenty four hours and she still didn't know how she was going to get everything ready by tomorrow night. And there was something else happening today...something important...

If only she could remember it!

Mrs. Evans heard the door open, a bright hello, and a squealed, "Lily!"

She nearly slapped her forehead. Lily came home today! How could she have forgotten? Rose Evans smiled as she listened to her daughters' happy chatter.

She couldn't hear their words, but she knew their voices: Petunia's was rather high and bird-like while Lily's was lower and warmer sounding. Rose Evans was baffled when she heard a deeper rumble accompanying the other two. Surely Edward wasn't home yet.

Next thing she knew, something tall and red-haired was hugging her tightly and Rose Evans closed her eyes in contentment. She hadn't held her middle daughter in a long time...

Lily let go of her and stepped back, smiling widely.

It was the first time Rose Evans had seen her daughter in four months, and she nearly gasped aloud at the change.

Somehow, the Lily in her mind's eye had never matured past eleven - her long hair in a braid down her back, gangly arms and legs, and eyes too big for the rest of her.

That Lily was long gone.

In her place was one of the most beautiful creatures Rose Evans had ever seen.

No longer even a teenager, this Lily was a woman.

And she was glowing.

"Mum, I want you to meet someone."

Rose Evans felt her heart stop.

Lily kept one hand closed around her mother's and the other one reached back for the someone. He came forward and took it.

And Rose Evans looked up into the face of the man her daughter had clearly chosen.

He was very tall with raven black hair that was very untidy in a somehow appealing manner. His eyes were steady and hazel with a sparkle that hinted at a sharp mind. His nose was long, his lips rather full, and his face sculpted. A scar slashed across his left cheekbone. Rose Evans wondered briefly where he'd gotten it. He was slender but obviously well fit. He was dressed in blue jeans, a steel gray sweater, black leather jacket, and silver glasses.

Remembering her manners, Rose Evans extended her hand, but couldn't think of anything to say.

He solved that problem by taking her hand in his warm grasp and smiling.

"Mrs. Evans, James Potter."

She felt her eyes go wide.

James Potter... she couldn't count the number of times she'd heard that name in the last two years with the words prat, idiot, arrogant, conceited, jerk, miscreant, annoying, reckless, and insane attached. But now...

Now her daughter was smiling at him in a way that put to shame all other lights. And he looked at her as though the sun and moon set on her shoulders.

The world really was the strangest of places...



At her first chance, Rose kidnapped Petunia and drug her into the pantry.

"Did you know?"

"That he was coming?"

"No. That they were dating?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

Petunia bit her lip and Rose suddenly had the feeling she wasn't going to like the answer. "For how long?" she asked again.

"A month," Petunia said quickly. "But, Mum, it's been going on much longer. And...and it's right. They're right for each other."

Rose could see that. She could also see the hurt in Petunia's eyes.

Rose Evans sighed.

She knew how hard this was on her youngest daughter. When Lily had gotten her letter, Pet had been so excited, and she'd been nearly uncontrollable as her own eleventh birthday drew nearer and nearer.

But Petunia's letter had never come.

She wasn't magic. Just normal. Just average.

She'd cried for a week.

Rose thought that sometimes Petunia couldn't stand Lily. Lily was everything Petunia wanted to be, but Petunia couldn't. She never could.

And still she loved her sister.

Rose Evans watched the bitterness grow and grow every year, but when Lily came home it evaporated. Because Lily loved Pet with all her heart. And Petunia, even through her jealousy, knew that.

But now there was James. And Rose knew that Petunia thought she was losing Lily's love to this stranger. Rose knew they were going to have to have a heart to heart later, but for now she only said

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you're right" and kissed her youngest daughter's cheek.



Rose Evans caught her breath when James Potter kissed her daughter under the mistletoe. Soft and sure. They obviously didn't know anyone was watching and when Lily pressed as close as she could to him, Rose Evans slipped back into the kitchen.



James wasn't staying the night.

He explained that he couldn't; his sister was at the Lupins' with Remus and Sirius. He had to be with her because this was...this was their first Christmas without their parents.

Lily squeezed his hand and James looked at her.

"She wants you there."

"What?"

"Andy. She asked if you could come to our house for Christmas. I told her you needed to be with your family but..."

"I'll come if you need me," Lily said quietly, eyes intent on his face.

James shook his head.

"No. We'll be okay. Stay with them. You never know what might..." his voice trailed off into silence and while Rose wasn't really sure what they were talking about, she felt afraid.



Two days later - on Christmas morning - Sirius Black was standing in their living room, giving Lily instructions to Potter Manor.

James didn't know.

"Mum, I'm sorry, I just...I can't stand the thought of them in that big house all alone. I'll be back tonight." Lily hugged her mother, then her father, then Petunia. Petunia did not hug her back. Lily pulled away and looked at her.

"Are you alright?"

For a second, Rose was worried about what Petunia might say. All she did, though, was force a grin and say, "Yeah, just tired."

"Oh," Lily said, looking at Pet like she didn't believe her. "Well, make sure you give Violet that package wrapped in blue. I'm sorry I'm going to miss the look on her face, and I expect full details about how much she screams when I get back. I love you, Pet."

Petunia just sort of grunted and Lily looked confused. But she put it away and pulled on her cloak. She picked up the packages of fudge and cookies she'd baked and the ingredients for the gingerbread her and Andy were going to make.

Sirius was carrying lots of bulky packages, a cook book, and an apron and was grumbling about ruining his image.

"Oh, stop whining," Lily said. "Is Remus meeting us there?"

"Yeah. Full moon's tomorrow, but he says he's coming."

"Good."

"You ready?"

"Yes." Lily blew out a frazzled breath and then turned to her family. Whatever bad thoughts she'd been having seemed to fall away and she smiled broadly at them. "I'll see you all later."

Through the packages, she waved awkwardly at them all. They waved back.

Then there was a pop and she was gone.

