A Matter of Timing

Chapter Six
Of Liquor and Friendship

There was a thin line between charismatic and obnoxious, Lily mused, as she oversaw her sixth-year N.E.W.T. class. James Potter certainly had the respect of his classmates—earned through his bold personality, she assumed—and had wit enough to gain laughs each class…but on the other hand…

"Oy, Professor," Potter called out. "Professor! Hullo, Professor?"

Lily turned her gaze to him and said coolly, "If you have a question, Mr Potter, please raise your hand. Otherwise it can wait until after class."

"But I've got a question that can't wait," he whined.

"Raise your hand, then."

"Now that just seems silly, doesn't it," he said, "since we're already talking."

She looked to Marjorie Dunhill again. "Make certain to hold your wrist like this"—she demonstrated with her hand aloft and wrist turned slightly to the right—"and it won't turn to sand like that. Would you like to try again?"

Dunhill nodded enthusiastically, but before she could watch her student make her next attempt, Lily was distracted by a thunk behind her. She whipped around and saw what looked like a slightly chipped statue of a paper aeroplane.

"What do you think of that, professor?" Potter said smugly. He leaned back in his seat, ruffling his hair with one hand and tapping the base of his wand on his desk with the other.

"Don't do that," she instructed, looking at his wand. "You'll send sparks out all over."

"Nah, I'm pretty good with my wand," he said dismissively. "Don't you think so, Professor?"

Lily sighed. "Hold on a moment, Mr Potter," she told him. She bent to pick up the very heavy statue of the paper aeroplane and examined it, tapping the chipped nose with her finger and coming away with a little bit of grit. If there had been sand on the inside it should have come pouring out, but just to be certain Lily brought her wand down on it with a hard tap and the tiny statue broke clean in half, stone to the core.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr Potter," she said. "Well done. I'd like you to help Mr Pettigrew with his own technique for the remainder of the class."

"Ten points?" Potter said with a pout.

"I've been very clear about my policy," said Lily. "Ten points to the first person to master a spell. Five points to the next four people. Do you have a problem with that?"

He laid his wand down on his desk and turned in his chair so that he was facing her completely, arm slung over the back of the chair that was now on his right.

"Ah, Professor," he said, grinning, "don't you have a better reward to give me?"

"Would you like me to take away those points, then?"

"Nah," he said, and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I just thought, you know, since it's me, you'd have a little something extra. Y'know, something a bit more fun." He waggled his eyebrows.

Lily had to keep herself from smiling. He was incredibly silly, the paragon of a cocky teenage boy. It amused her to think that his behavior had once been the sort of thing she liked. What a difference a decade made. However, if she let herself show amusement he would see it as permission to continue.

She put the broken halves of the paper aeroplane statue on the desk next to Dunhill's and crossed her arms, giving Potter a hard, unimpressed look. He stared back at her determinedly, a wicked smile tugging at his lips, until something caused him to wrench his gaze downward.

Potter ran his fingers through his hair and ruffled it, letting out a laugh that sounded forced. She took it as his surrender.

"Thank you," she said, and turned back to Dunhill, who'd apparently been watching that entire exchange with wide eyes. "Miss Dunhill?"

"R-right," said Dunhill, looking hastily back at her wooden whistle. She raised her arm and—after double checking her form—silently flicked her wand at the whistle.

It turned to stone on the outside, but when Lily cleaved it in two a small bit of sand dribbled out.

"Very close," Lily encouraged her. "You just need a bit more conviction, I think. But your form was spot on that time. Practice holding your wrist like that without your wand so the feel of it becomes natural and by next class I think you'll get it down perfectly."

Dunhill nodded vigorously. "Yes!" she said, and held her wrist out with a face so scrunched up in concentration that Lily couldn't quite hold back a smile.

"Professor Evans?"

Lily glanced over her shoulder. "Miss Selwynn?"

Estella Selwynn sat straight in her chair, one perfectly manicured hand raised and a bored (yet somehow still expectant) expression upon her face.

"Professor, will you check my work please?" she said while lowering her hand.

There was a statue of a clock on her desk that, unlike Dunhill and Potter's dark granite, was a lighter marble that gleamed under the sunlight pouring in through the windows.

Lily picked up the clock statue and gave it a long look. "The individuality of the stone is impressive," she remarked.

It was a challenge for her to compliment Selwynn.

In the last month Lily had come to realise that she genuinely disliked Estella Selwynn, not only because the girl wore blinders when it came to the war and the constant death outside of their sanctuary of a school, but also because Selwynn was rude. She had a haughty, self-satisfied air that often surrounded the rich and powerful, and spoke to students and professors alike with a condescending tone that set Lily's teeth on edge.

However, she couldn't act according to her own personal dislike toward a student, so Lily made every effort to be impartial. And the stone was impressive.

She tapped the watch statue open and with a loud crack it cleaved in two, momentarily quieting the classroom with the sound.

"Perfect," Lily remarked. "Five points to Slytherin for being the second person to master the spell, and an extra five points for the unique composition."

"Thank you, Professor," Selwynn said.

Her face didn't reveal anything, nor did her tone. Was she pleased? Annoyed? Lily couldn't tell and it irked her, though getting annoyed by such a petty thing should've been beneath her.

"I would like you to find a student struggling with their technique and help them for the remainder of the class," Lily said, doing her best to remain neutral.

"There are only six minutes of class left, professor," Selwynn answered.

"Yes, that is correct."

Selwynn's left eye twitched ever so slightly. "I can't imagine six minutes providing any valuable assistance."

"You'll never know unless you try," Lily told her, and left before she lost her cool.

She stayed at her desk for the remaining five-and-a-half minutes of class waiting for someone to call her over for assistance, but the students were managing just fine without her.

A part of her was extremely pleased by that, the part that wanted to see these children succeed, but a smaller part was slightly resentful that she wasn't needed. It was a silly thing to feel. She had been needed earlier. They couldn't have learnt the spell by themselves, after all.

Selwynn, she saw, did get out of her desk to work with one of her housemates, though her entire body screamed her disinterest. Potter was helping Pettigrew as well, enthusiastically guiding the short boy despite Pettigrew's evident frustration.

When the bell rung, Lily called out over the renewed loudness of her students. "Mr Potter, a moment if you please."

Potter, who was already on his way out shoulder-to-shoulder with Black and Lupin, craned his neck back to look at her. A cocky, self-assured smile blossomed on his lips and he knocked his fist on both boys' backs hard enough to make them grunt before heading to her desk. He walked with a slow, easy swagger until he stopped right in front of Lily.

"Professor," he said, smirking.

"Mr Potter, I've yet to receive your essay on the Aguamenti spell," she said, and the smirk slid off his face. "I expected it on my desk last Wednesday."

"Ah…that," Potter hedged. "Hm."

"Yes, that," said Lily. "Is there some reason I haven't gotten it from you? I'd like to know before I take points."

Potter scratched the back of his neck. "Er…that's because…" He trailed off, obviously at a loss for words.

Lily waited, though a bit impatiently. Her first year class of Ravenclaws and Slytherins were due to arrive in little more than ten minutes and she had some materials to prepare.

"Honestly, I forgot all about it," he confessed in a rush.

She raised her eyebrows. "You forgot."

"I forgot," Potter said again. He sighed.

"Mr Potter—"

"Look, Professor, it's not a good reason, but I've been spending some of my free nights watching the Slytherins at practise. I know that's not good sportsmanship, but they've got a fantastic team this year and I'd like to beat them in the ground in the match next month so I've been watching them and working up new strategies for my team. I guess I let a few things slip."

"You're the Gryffindor captain?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded. "Have been since last year." That damned smirk of his crept back onto his lips. "I'm pretty good with my broom."

That was two innuendos in ten minutes. Lily almost rolled her eyes. If she acknowledged them, he'd take it as a victory.

"I watched your practise one morning," she told him. "Your team is excellent. I don't think you need to worry so much about the upcoming match that it affects your schoolwork. I'll have to take ten points for your lateness."

"Yes, Professor."

"However, I'll still accept it if you turn it in by the seventh," she added.

Potter visibly brightened, pushing his glasses up his nose and leaning forward to say, in a voice he probably thought was alluring, "Doing favors for me, Professor Evans?"

"Minerva and I have a bet against Professor Slughorn," Lily told him, which wasn't a lie. At least, it wouldn't be a lie by tomorrow, according to McGonagall. "I'd like to make money, not lose it. I've little enough as it is."

"Ah, Professor, this is what they call special treatment," he said. "Say, would you help me with my essay tonight? I'm afraid I'll need some up close instruction."

"My office hours are Tuesday and Thursday after dinner," said Lily.

Merlin, she should not laugh. She should not laugh.

"Make an exception for me?"

If she laughed, she would crush his young, fragile ego, and he'd never flirt with anyone again, so she shouldn't laugh. That would be outright cruel.

Lily cleared her throat to buy herself a moment of composure. "Even if I were so inclined to do so, which I am not, I'm not available tonight."

Potter blinked. "Not available?"

"No," she confirmed.

"What on earth could you be doing that would make you unavailable?"

"That's none of your business," she said.

He gave her sad eyes that reminded her strongly of a baby animal. "Come on, Professor. You can tell me. I can keep a secret."

Lily got the distinct impression that he wouldn't give up, so she said, "If you must know, I'm having dinner with some friends tonight."

"Oh?" Potter reveled in his victory. "What's the occasion?"

"My birthday."

His lips parted in surprise. He leaned in further, hazel eyes bright and searching. Lily noticed his glasses were slightly crooked, higher on the left. She caught his scent with his approach, a woodsy smell mixed with broom polish (a scent she negatively associated with her old dorm-mate Pontia) and something like cloves. She kept herself from pulling away in response to his nearness, but only just.

"I didn't realise it was your birthday," he murmured.

"That's because I didn't tell you, Mr Potter. And you're too close."

Potter gave her a smile that lacked all the cockiness he usually displayed around her and moved back by about two inches.

"Happy birthday," he said.

"Thank you."

"You don't look a day over twenty."

"We both know that's not true."

"Would you like a present from me?"

Lily let a smile crack her composure at last. "Mr Potter," she said dryly, "I'm actually afraid that any present you might offer me would be inappropriate. If you really want to give me something, finish that Aguamenti essay and put it on my desk tomorrow evening. Now, I have another class coming in, so if you don't mind…"

She'd glanced past Potter as she spoke and had seen one wide-eyed first-year staring at the pair of them.

"Ah." Potter let out a sigh and straightened up, running his fingers through his hair in a fluid motion that gave him a windswept, playful appearance. "Well then, if you change your mind about a present, you'll know where to find me."

"Please don't wait up," she said with a tight smile.

He left, and the first-year took slow, cautious steps into the classroom, looking back at Potter's retreating form.

"Would you help me set up?" Lily asked the boy brightly.

The boy nodded after one last second of watching Potter, awe evident on his face. It wasn't just his classmates Potter inspired, then: he had a hold over a first-year from another house. If Potter could only stop causing trouble, he'd be a real force to be reckoned with.

"I can't believe I'm the only sober person in the room," Lily announced dryly. "And it's my birthday. How pathetic."

"S'not your birthday," Cassie slurred. "Yesterday was your birthday."

"Yes, thank you, love," said Fabian. He patted Cassie on the head gently. "That's very good. You're very smart for remembering your best friend's birthday."

"Shut up, Prewett," said Cassie. She looked ready to throw a punch, but considering how much alcohol she'd imbibed her aim would likely be wildly off.

Lily stifled a grin.

She'd rented a room for the night at the Three Broomsticks. Or rather, she'd put her name down and the four friends that had joined her wouldn't let her pay, insisting it was their treat. Lily wasn't about to complain, not with her gapingly empty vault at Gringotts. She wasn't planning to stay the night in town, either, but given the drinking habits of her friends she thought it best to have the option available. Never drink and Apparate, after all.

And it was nice to have four of her favourite people in one room on her birthday.

Day after her birthday.

The Prewetts were unavailable on the thirtieth, so Lily had decided she'd rather wait a day than have a smaller number of friends. Rather, she didn't want only Cassie, Margot, and herself in one room. That was an invitation for disaster.

"Being sober isn't so terrible," said Margot, waving her glass of goblin gin around dangerously. "In fact, most of us are sober most of the time."

"Yes, but there's something particularly miserable about solitary sobriety," she said.

"Just one drink," Cassie said with a wicked smile. "A bit of champagne won't hurt."

"You say that now, but then the next thing I know I'm waking up in Diagon Alley with a splitting headache and two house-elves staring down at me."

Cassie pouted. "Once. That happened once. Years ago!"

Fabian's brows lifted. "I have not heard this story," he said, glancing between Lily and Cassie with twitching lips.

"And you never will," Cassie told him.

Margot leaned forward. "Wait, wait, wait—was this before my time?"

"Oh, yes," Lily said, delightedly watching Cassie squirm. "Yes, this was Christmas holidays in our seventh year, when Cassie had just turned down the amorous affections of a certain—"

"Stuff it, Evans!"

The rest of them laughed loudly, ignoring the scowl blossoming on Cassie's face.

Gideon cleared his throat, speaking up at last. "Isn't it time to pass around presents for our esteemed professor? Unless I'm the only one who remembered to bring anything."

"Right!" Fabian agreed with his twin, eyes twinkling. "If the lady can't have alcohol to celebrate herself, then she should at least get some sort of consolation."

"I'll start!" Margot said eagerly. She finished off her goblin gin in one mighty gulp and then reached down next to her chair. There was nothing there, and then Margot was pulling a large box wrapped in gorgeous white and gold wrapping paper, the designs moving in a wave, and a shimmering ribbon tied around it.

"Oh, no."

"Hush," said Margot. "It's my present for you, I can do what I like. Now open it."

Just like at Christmas, Lily felt horribly inferior. She didn't have the money to give Margot anything of equal return. Even the wrapping paper was far outside of Lily's budget.

This was stupid. She was being stupid. What did it matter how much money either of them had?

Lily plastered a smile on her face and took the large wrapped box. "Oh, dear," she murmured. "What do we have here?"

Margot's returned smile threatened to split her face in two, which made Lily feel slightly better about accepting the gift. She untied the ribbon carefully and tapped her wand to unwrap the paper. Something that nice needed to be preserved. Of course, the expensive wrapping paper was nothing compared to what was inside the box.

"Oh, Mags," Lily breathed when she lifted the lid. "This is…this is spectacular."

"Remember, I promised you a dress!"

"Mags, it's gorgeous," she said.

That was all she could think, over and over. This was a stunning work of art, the fabric a deep cobalt blue that shimmered like sun-struck water. Lily pulled it out of the box and stood, holding it out before her. Cassie gave a cooing sound and stumbled to her feet, and came over to pull the dress from Lily's hands and pin it—somewhat clumsily—against Lily's frame.

It had a high empire waist with a floor length skirt. Gold thread marked the border between skirt and bodice, not merely a line but an embroidered design of stars. The thread stars went down the skirt and the hem twinkled with more gold thread.

Of all things, it reminded Lily a little of the Disney Cinderella movie that Petunia had loved when they were children, though this dress and that weren't so similar. Petunia hadn't let her watch it ever since Lily received her Hogwarts letter but she still remembered the sparkles on that dress, and that was what struck her memory.

"Nicely done, Keller," Gideon praised. "You designed that?"

"I did!" Margot said, blushing and grinning in a mixture of pride and humility.

"Merlin, I can't top this," said Cassie, throwing the dress back into Lily's hands. "Fab, give her the present. I can't bear to now."

Fabian ran a hand over his mouth, clearly hiding a grin. He reached down beside his chair and grabbed a small wrapped box, the paper plain and uncharmed, with no ribbon attached to it. Only a hastily scrawled "To Lily, love from Fabian and Cas" on the top indicated that this was, in fact, a gift.

Lily smiled, secretly relieved. "Pass it over, then."

She sat down and folded the dress back into its box as the small present went from Fabian's hands to Gideon's, and then to Margot before landing on Lily's lap.

"It's a book," she guessed.

"Just open it!"

"It's a book," she repeated, smirking.

Cassie sighed loudly. "Like I'd tell you! Open the bloody thing."

Lily tore off the paper, careful to not rip the writing on the top, and lifted the lid of the small box off.

"It's a scarf."

"Got you," Fabian said. He rubbed his hands together in excitement, a boyish smile blossoming on his face. "How d'you like it?"

"Excellent," Lily said, wrapping the dark blue cashmere around her neck. "Very soft. Thank you."

She smiled at both Fabian and Cassie, and Cassie turned red right before she grabbed a glass of Firewhisky (probably not her own) and finished it off in a giant gulp.

"I got you goblin gin," Gideon announced, passing a bag over. "Not top shelf, exactly, but not the bottom shelf either. Save it for a special occasion, yeah?"

"I will," said Lily.

"Right," Cassie said loudly, still pink-cheeked. "I think we need more mead up here. And more food. Who's going to come down with me to haul it all back?"

Margot giggled. "Silly, you've got magic! You can haul it all back yourself!"

"Oh, no," Fabian and Lily said together. Lily pursed her lips in a smile, and Fabian continued. "Don't ever let this woman use magic while she's drunk. Unless you want something blown up. Come on, love," he said to Cassie, getting up and pulling her with him. He steadied her with an arm at her back and led her to the door.

Gideon paused a moment, looking between Lily and the exiting pair, before saying, "Should I be concerned?"

"Best go with them," Lily agreed, nodding. Drunk as they were, Fabian and Cassie would likely get distracted halfway down the stairs and start snogging like teenagers if they didn't have a chaperone. As third wheels, Lily and Gideon had found this out the hard way.

As soon as they'd left, Lily looked down and touched the dress Margot had designed for her.

"This really is beautiful, Mags. I don't deserve something this nice."

"Pish. I design lovely things for lovely people. It's your own fault for being beautiful, you know. If you weren't, I might have given you a bag to wear over your head instead."

She couldn't help but snort at that. "Let me say thank you, brat."

Margot gave a lusty, alcohol-fueled wink. "You're welcome."

"How's the shop?"

"Same as ever. The Malkin girl I hired has an eye for details, so she's working out wonderfully. Much less hassle than my last hire."

"Tell me about Robert Bellman," Lily said, keeping her voice light. She'd promised to ask Margot about this, and with the younger woman in such a good mood it seemed like the best time to try. "It's been over a month now. Have you two gotten to know each other better?"

Margot put her champagne flute down gently. "Yes…we're doing quite well, thank you."

"I mean—" She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I want to know about him."

"What, precisely, do you want to know?"

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Why are you avoiding the question?"

"Because you sound just like Cassie right now," said Margot, her arms crossing defensively. "She hasn't exactly been subtle in her disapproval."

"She cares about you," Lily told her. "Much as she likes to pretend otherwise."

"She's got an awfully rude way of showing it."

"Well, you knew that."

Margot glared. "Don't tease, Lily, it's really not alright! I'm tired of hearing the judgment in her voice whenever she brings up Rob. I'd hoped it would be different with you, but apparently I was mistaken."

"So you call him Rob."

An oppressive silence settled between them, thick and uncompromising.

There was so much Lily wanted to say: warnings about dating an older man, warnings about dating a rich man…wanting to know everything about the person her friend was dating and yet wishing they weren't dating at all. And on top of all of that, not wanting to push Margot away because of some man.

"I call him Rob," Margot said at last. "He calls me Maggie."

"Maggie?"

Margot nodded. "Mm."

"Do you…like being called Maggie?"

"I do," said Margot, looking to be in deep thought. "I like it the most when he calls me that, though. Not when other people do."

Lily pursed her lips. "I know. You've never let me call you Maggie."

"Jealous?"

"Concerned."

Margot's eyes narrowed again. "Lily—"

"I don't want to upset you," she said hurriedly, "but you can't deny you've always hated that nickname. The fact that Robert Bellman is calling you a name you've never liked worries me. Do you like it because he wants you to or—"

"I like the way he says it, alright?" snapped Margot. "He…he says it differently. It's sweet. And sexy."

Lily took in a sharp breath. "Have you two…have you…"

"What? Slept with him?"

"Yes."

"I haven't."

She looked at Margot in surprise.

Margot let out a dissatisfied huff. "Honestly, Lily, do you think I just spread my legs right from the off?"

"That's not what I—"

"He's being very careful with me," Margot went on. "He's a perfect gentleman. And for some reason, the pair of you are ganging up on me about—"

"We're not ganging up, Mags, we just love you and want the best for you!" said Lily. "It's just the same as when I was dating Tim and Cassie kept telling me to drop him."

"It's not the same," said Margot, "because Tim was shit and Rob isn't. He isn't. Merlin's beard, Lily, you haven't even met the man!"

Lily took a deep breath and held back the words of warning she wanted to give her young friend, because clearly Margot wouldn't listen to anyone on the matter. Instead, she crossed her legs and forced herself to relax.

"You're right, I haven't met him," she said. "I would like to."

"With the way you're judging him right now, I'm not certain I want you to meet him."

"Come on, Mags," said Lily. "Don't be stubborn. If you really feel he's a good man for you, then you can prove it to me by having us come face to face. Surely you can't object to that?"

Margot crossed her arms and said nothing.

This was one of Margot's flaws. She could be stubborn beyond reason, often ignoring white flags and olive branches in favour of a good, self-righteous sulk. Since Lily had a tendency to do something similar when she was younger it was hard to begrudge that habit. But that didn't mean Margot's coldness didn't sting.

"It's my birthday," Lily said, coaxing, putting a pout on her lips. "Please don't be cross with me."

After a long moment, Margot's stony expression softened. "I'm not cross with you."

"Liar."

"I'm not," she repeated. "I'm annoyed, but it isn't really your fault. I would just prefer not to have my judgment called into question."

"It isn't your judgment I question," said Lily gently. "Only his intentions. But let's not talk of that now."

"No," Margot agreed. "I don't see you nearly enough. Tell me what's going on in your life."

Lily smiled in relief and began telling Margot about the ups and downs of teaching, the students she liked best and what some of the troublemakers had gotten up to. She spoke of Uriah, how he'd given her solid advice in teaching and the way he'd quickly struck up a friendship with her.

What Lily didn't speak of was Dagley. She didn't know if it was the arrival of Cassie and the twins—bearing armloads of more food and drink—or if she'd held her tongue for another reason.

She didn't know what to think about that, nor did she want to think of it. She'd told Cassie all about the newness between her and Dagley, even though their relationship was still on the mend. It'd been easy to speak of her partner with Cassie. Deciding whether her reservation was due to Dagley or Margot required an introspection Lily wasn't willing to undergo tonight.

After another hour of loud revelry, Lily slipped out into the hallway to escape the noise. Aurors, she'd decided years ago, were heavy drinkers. Any time they didn't have to be alert and on duty, they went in entirely the opposite direction. She could still hear the near-shouting that was Cassie's animated voice as it fought to be heard over all others—and the moderate din from the downstairs pub—but the sounds were muted by the thick door.

Only a few moments after she'd escaped the room, the sound went to full volume again and Lily glanced to her right.

Gideon slid out into the hall with her, closing the door behind him and muffling the sound.

"Hullo," he said quietly. "Sorry you couldn't start on the gin tonight."

"I'll save it for a day I really need it," said Lily. "I think Cassie's drinking for the both of us right now. I'm not too bothered."

They shared a smile as, right on cue, Cassie let out an indecipherable bellow inside the room.

"She was a mess when the two of you were on the outs," Gideon said suddenly. "I mean, I suppose we were on the outs too, but she took it hard. Apparently you two had never not spoken to one another like that."

Lily nodded, feeling a little ashamed despite herself.

Gideon stood beside her, drumming his fingers on the wall in a disorderly staccato. He didn't say anything for a long while, and then—

"How's your partner's leg?"

She swallowed. "I saw him a couple weeks ago. He was walking, but with a cane. I haven't heard from him since, but I suspect he's on the mend."

"Good. That's good. You heard about Hostein?"

"Mm."

"At least the people in the Ministry who thought it was a hoax have shut up now."

"Once it's in the Prophet they don't have much of a choice, do they?"

It felt like Gideon was pulling teeth—his own teeth, judging by his strained voice—to find a topic for them. She wondered why, when he usually found it easy to strike up a conversation. Did he think she was still furious with the twins for not telling her about the Order? She was, but it was an anger that could dissipate with time and words. Surely he'd realised that, once she'd begun speaking to Cassie again.

"Peridenn's trial is coming up," Gideon said after another long moment. "Sorry it's on a weekday."

"It's alright," Lily told him. "Dumbledore got my classes covered. We're both going to the trial."

"Ah, well done."

"Do you know who's heading it?" she asked.

Gideon shrugged. "They're making an announcement tomorrow night at eight. I don't know if it's all been finalised yet, but there's a rumour going 'round that Bagnold will take lead."

"That's a decent call," Lily said. "Will it be a full Wizengamot or an inner trial?"

"No idea. The Minister's been keeping that under wraps. Only the Heads of Department are cleared to know before the trial. Even Moody's in the dark."

She blinked. "Shouldn't Moody be in on that? He's been supervising the hunt for Peridenn since the beginning!"

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Gideon, shrugging. "He's not said a word about it. There has been some talk of possible Follower interference, but no one could possibly suspect Moody. Anyhow, so long as Julian Peridenn gets put away by the end of it, I don't care what sort of trial it is."

Talking of Peridenn with Gideon reminded Lily of something else, something she'd all but forgotten, and she seized the chance to turn their awkward shop talk into something more personal.

"Did you get my note?" Lily asked him. "The one I sent before Christmas? You were out hunting for Peridenn at the time but—"

"Yeah, I got it," he said over her. His tone was brusque, distant even, and Lily's smile faltered. She felt as if she'd just tripped over something.

"Can you not make it?" she said.

Gideon shook his head. "That's not really the issue."

She blinked. "I didn't realise there was an issue to be had."

He turned to her, a heavy sigh exhaled from his lungs. "Lily," he began, "you know you're a dear friend to me. Not only because we're the odd ones out with my brother and Cassie. I really do value you."

"Then what's the trouble?"

"Weddings are…" He hesitated. "They're very romantic, and a lot of feelings can crop up. I don't want there to be any confusion between us."

It took Lily a moment to realise exactly what was going on. When she did, she couldn't help but gape up at Gideon, nearly at a loss for words.

Nearly.

"Do you really think that's why I asked you to go with me?" she managed to say. Each word felt as if it stuck to her throat, pushing past an angrier outburst. It was all but a slap in the face.

How could he? When, in their three years of friendship, had Lily ever shown the slightest interest in Gideon beyond friendship? Theirs had always been a relationship of childish comradery, a light bond with few expectations. How on earth could he act as if she were a love-obsessed idiot who might fall for the nearest man at the first opportunity?

Gideon's eyes were obnoxiously kind. "You've only just broken up with Tim," he said. "I know that was hard for you, and you're likely in a vulnerable place, but I can't give you anything other than my friendship, Lily."

"Don't be so daft, you self-concerned idiot," snapped Lily.

"I only meant—"

"I know what you meant!"

"I'm not trying to hurt your feelings," said Gideon.

She scoffed. "No, only trying to insult my intelligence. I know you aren't interested in me. I honestly don't care! And for Merlin's sake, what possessed you to think my sister's wedding would be a romantic occasion? Have I not told you of our relationship, or lack thereof? I only wanted a good friend to lean on—but clearly, I've come to the wrong place."

"Lily—"

"Don't take that tone with me!" she said.

She hated the pity in his voice and eyes, because it meant Gideon wasn't listening to a word she said. He'd gotten it into his head that she fancied him, as if a man and a woman couldn't be friends without some idiot mucking it up. And since Gideon's disinterest in women meant he wouldn't be the one to ruin things, of course he placed the responsibility for this on her.

Any goodwill she'd managed to scrounge up for Gideon since learning he'd lied to her about being in the Order flew out of her, and Lily could only feel anger and betrayal as she looked at the man who'd always been her ally. Was this something that had been rattling around in his head for a long time? Had this been his expectation since the beginning?

He seemed to sense her darkening mood at last, and cleared his throat. "I hope this doesn't affect our relationsh—"

"Oh, shut up," she said. "I can't believe you. It's a good thing you're turning down my invitation because I wanted a friend to come along, and you are clearly not that."

Lily threw open the door and stomped into the room, causing Cassie and Fabian's loud banter to falter and trail off.

"Lily?" said Fabian, and she couldn't even look at him because of how his face matched his twin's.

"I'll see you all some other time," snapped Lily as she threw on her cloak. "Apparently, I've got to go and mope about my misfortune with men."

"Lily, hang on now," she heard Gideon say behind her, but she clicked her tongue in impatience and his voice left him in something like a hum.

She gathered up her presents and managed to brush a kiss on Margot's cheek before she left. Going to give Cassie the same treatment would mean looking at Fabian, and Lily didn't trust herself not to get angry at him even though Fabian wasn't the source of her ire. Rather than that, she pushed past Gideon, jamming her shoulder into his arm. She hadn't ever done something like that before and her shoulder throbbed in a dull pain.

"Where are you going?" Cassie called.

"Bye," was all she could manage. Unless she wanted to spin on her heel and let out a second scathing lecture for Gideon, it was best she kept going, down the stairs and out the pub doors into the chill night.

The cold outside sapped at her anger, but not by much. What little anger she managed to lose found its replacement in bitter disappointment.

It was nearly eight o'clock the next evening when Lily heard a knock on her open office door.

She had spent the last hour grading homework for her third-year classes and waiting for someone—anyone—to take advantage of her office hours since dinner had gotten out. However, just like all other nights when she hosted office hours in this last month, she'd had no visitors. So despite the time, she couldn't deny a little bit of excitement over the possibility.

"Come in," Lily called.

She blinked in surprise when a head of sandy blond hair popped inside the doorframe.

"Good evening, Professor," said Remus Lupin.

"Good evening." Lily waited a moment for Lupin to come in, and when he didn't she added, "Office hours are still on for another five minutes, you know."

"Ah…right."

Looking about as eager as a drenched cat in need of another bath, Lupin edged sideways into the room and closed the door behind him, leaving it cracked ajar.

"What can I help you with, Mr Lupin?" she said.

"Ah…er…" He fidgeted with the strap of his book bag and then suddenly began rummaging through it. "Er, James has practise tonight but he asked me to bring his Aguamenti essay in for him."

Lupin pulled out a tightly rolled scroll of parchment and Lily held out her hand to take it. The second her fingers closed around the scroll Lupin let go as if he was burned.

Lily couldn't help but feel a little insulted but said, "It's nice of you to do that for a friend," as if she hadn't noticed.

"Well, I'd mentioned I was coming here already…"

She put the scroll down and crossed her arms. "Mr Lupin, I understand you are a prefect. I would think you'd be better at speaking up at this point."

"Right, yes…sorry, Professor."

"Don't be sorry, just tell me what you need."

"The, um—the Medusa Charm, Professor," Lupin blurted out. "I can't get it to work right. It keeps turning to sand and Pro—James tried to show me the trick to it but…"

Lily pursed her lips. "You should have come to me earlier in the evening. I don't know if I can do much good in three minutes."

She was annoyingly aware that her words were almost exactly the same as Estella Selwynn's from the day before, but in all honesty, she didn't know how to help him in that short amount of time. She felt useless, and she hated that.

"I, er…didn't know if you would see me."

"It's office hours," she said slowly. "That's when I see students."

Lupin ducked his head. "Ah, yes," he mumbled, "but…you've been made aware of my situation…"

Oh, she thought.

Rather stupidly, she had not considered that Lupin would be self-conscious about his lycanthropy.

"Have I made you believe that I am not willing to help you?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice gentle.

"Er…no."

"Mr Lupin," said Lily, leaning forward and lacing her fingers together, "I am responsible for your education. That means I am willing and available to answer your questions and provide assistance. I might be new to teaching but I strongly believe that is an ethic to be upheld, no matter the student."

He nodded slowly. "Then…"

Lily checked the clock above the door. "In a couple minutes, a broadcast I have been waiting to hear will be on the wireless," she said. "If you're fine with waiting until it's over, I can extend my office hours to assist you."

Lupin blinked. "You will?"

"I can," she repeated, "but please understand, Mr Lupin, I am not interested in making this a habit."

"Thank you," he said. His shoulders dropped, and until that moment Lily hadn't realised he'd been tense.

"Take a seat." Lily gestured to the two chairs across from her desk. After a brief moment, Lupin took the one to the right.

She stood and walked to her wireless radio, calling over her shoulder, "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind."

Lily tapped the wireless on with her wand and fiddled the dial until she landed upon the WWN. It was always something of a bother switching her radio between WWN and The Howler. Wizard radios weren't nearly as direct as the modern Muggle equipment.

A blast of jazz music filled the room and Lily turned the volume down to something more bearable. She grimaced.

"You know," she said to Lupin casually, "I really don't like wizard jazz. Too many bizarre sounds trying to fit in. Give me quality Muggle ragtime and blues any day."

"I suppose," he mumbled.

Lily turned around and headed back to her chair. "What sort of music do you prefer, Mr Lupin?"

"I, er…do you know Black Sabbath?"

She let out a loud, sharp bark of laughter and promptly covered her mouth with both hands. "I'm sorry," she said. It was a challenge not to keep laughing, thanks to Lupin's startled expression. "I'm so sorry. I really wasn't expecting that answer. It doesn't exactly fit with your…image."

Lupin looked down at himself, taking in the neatness of his robes—secondhand though they undoubtedly were—and gave his first (timid) smile. "I suppose not."

"Well, then…" Lily searched for something to say but was saved when that awful wizarding jazz faded off the radio at last.

"That was off The Phoenix Core's new album, 'Fire up the Cauldrons and the Instruments,' on sale next Tuesday," announced the smooth talking radio host. "The Phoenix Core will be playing live in our studio come next Wednesday to celebrate their album release."

"Ugh," she muttered, and could have sworn Lupin smiled for a moment.

"Up next, we have information about the upcoming trial for Julian Peridenn, to be held Tuesday the twenty-second of this month at ten o'clock in the morning."

Lily sat up a bit straighter.

"The charges for Mr Peridenn are reported to be that of an unspecified count of Muggle-baiting, the murder of four Muggles, the murder of Muggle-born Greg Bean, conspiring with or being a part of the terrorist group described as the Followers, and the murder of Auror Henton Fowler," the radio host read off. "Mr Peridenn has evaded arrest for nearly a year, engaging in duels with Hit Wizards in Aurors that have resulted in injury. Mr Peridenn was finally brought in by Gideon and Fabian Prewett, esteemed Aurors, on Christmas Eve.

"The trial is of great significance to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, who believe Mr Peridenn is among the inner circle of the Followers. As of this date, Julian Peridenn is the first Follower with real information to be brought in to face justice and questioning. Therefore, Head of Department Bartemius Crouch will be supervising the proceedings."

"What?" Lily murmured, falling back into her chair.

As far back as she could recall, it wasn't for the Head of Law Enforcement to sit at the head of trial. That belonged to a Level One representative such as Millicent Bagnold or Eddie Bones. With that, at least, there was some separation between police and prosecution. How had this been decided? Who'd allowed Crouch to take control of the proceedings like that and set such a nasty precedent?

"Mr Crouch has gained notoriety since the Stratford Massacre in July of 1974 for his hardline approach against the Followers," said the radio host, and Lily struggled to pay attention. "A growing movement within the wizarding populace is calling for Mr Crouch's bid for Minister for Magic. One organisation in particular, dubbed 'Crouch for Common Sense,' has taken the news of this trial as a rallying cry."

Ah.

Well, that would explain it, wouldn't it? Crouch wanted to be Minister for Magic, and the Minister sat at the head of important trials. Hungry for power as he was, Crouch would ignore the proper procedure in order to further his campaign platform.

"Mr Crouch's performance presiding over Mr Peridenn's trial may not be the trigger for his campaign for Minister," the radio host said, as if he'd read Lily's mind,"but will demonstrate to both the wizarding public and the community how the Ministry will deal with convicted Followers.

"This is Halpern Donahue reporting from the Wireless Wizarding Network. And now, please enjoy these words from our sponsors."

Lily stood again and headed to the radio just as an advert for Drooble's Best Blowing Gum started up an annoying jingle.

"Thank you, Mr Lupin," she said. "Shall we begin?"

"Wait—the trial," said Lupin, turning in his chair to look at her. "Did they really catch Peridenn?"

"Yes, they did," Lily told him. "Why do you ask?"

"The…the seventh-year prefect for our house, last year," he said. "She was Henton Fowler's daughter."

Lily hadn't known that Fowler had any children. She'd barely known Fowler at all, only that he was an Auror of little talent and much determination according to the Prewett twins.

"Were the two of you close?"

"No," he said quietly. "No. I just remember when she got the news. So the Ministry thinks he's in the inner circle?"

"I suppose they do," she said. "He's certainly cruel enough to be one of them."

"You know him?"

"Far better than I'd prefer."

Lupin shifted in his seat. "There's a rumour going 'round that you were there the night of the first Inferi attack," he said. "I don't usually listen to school rumours but…the way you spoke about it our first class—"

"And if I was there?" she asked pointedly. "Mr Lupin, I agreed to extend my office hours to help you with Charms work, not to talk about my Ministry record."

He recoiled a little at that but squared his shoulders. "Sorry, you just, well, you seem to be involved in a lot of incidents. The seventh-years are saying you fought off a wild Manticore?"

"Mr Lupin—"

"Sorry, Professor," he said again, his voice strained. "It's just…well, you've got to understand, we're all cooped up here, we've never done anything like what you have. I just wanted to hear more about it."

She almost—almost—preferred the silent, timid Remus Lupin to this shrewd investigator.

"I assure you, when I took a job at the Ministry I wasn't looking for trouble," Lily told him. She returned to her chair once more and settled in. "Rather, trouble keeps finding me."

"R-right."

And now the hesitant version of Lupin was back, ducking his head and looking somewhat ashamed of himself.

Despite herself, Lily felt bad for shutting him down.

"The truth of the matter is," she added gently, "most people at the Ministry have lots of stories to share, these days. I don't like talking about them here because…it's for two reasons. The first is I don't want to be a source of gossip over something…difficult for me to remember, and the second is that my experiences on the job are relatively commonplace and I don't feel right about sharing them as if they're anything special. Now, if you spoke to some of the Aurors I know, you'd hear some real tales."

"Begging your pardon, Professor," he said, sitting up a little straighter, "but you're the one who's here now, not some Aurors."

"Fair point, Mr Lupin," she surrendered. "Fair point. But regardless, you didn't come here to talk about me. You came to talk about you. If you would please demonstrate your mastery of the Medusa Charm so far..." She indicated an inkwell on her desk.

Lupin nodded and scrunched his brow.

"Relax," she had to remind him almost immediately.

"Yes. Sorry, Professor."

Uriah entered her office Friday night with a smile on his face and a bottle of amber liquid in hand.

"Hullo," he said brightly. "Fancy a drink?"

Lily stretched her arms above her head. "Honestly, I think I'd fancy about ten drinks. What are we having?"

"Firewhisky."

"How utterly unoriginal."

"Ah," said Uriah, pointing at her, "but seeing as I nicked it from Slughorn's stash, not only is this daring Firewhisky, it's probably top shelf quality. Not your average Odgen's Old, I'll tell you that."

She sat straight up. "You nicked it from Slughorn?"

"I did."

"What are you, fifteen?"

He laughed. "Possibly. But admit it, you're intrigued."

"Oh…fine." Lily stretched out her hand and gestured for him to put the bottle of liquor in her grasp. Uriah handed it over with ease, grinning wickedly, and Lily scanned the label. "Dionysia's Fine Fermented Drinks. You realise this is fifty Galleons per bottle?"

Uriah sat down across from her and conjured two shot glasses. He slid them over to her. "Slughorn won't miss it. It was collecting dust at the back of his cabinet."

She shook her head, fighting a smile. "Your ethics amaze me."

"Well, I was a Gringotts Curse Breaker," he reminded her. "I used to take old and expensive things for a living."

"You're a bit of a bad boy, aren't you?"

"How rude. Curse Breaking is a perfectly respectable profession."

"Right," snorted Lily. "Pour me one."

"As the lady commands."

This, Lily noted as she emptied the shot in one heavy swallow, was quality Firewhisky. Unlike a standard Odgen's Old, which often burned sharply on its way down, this stuff had a warm, pleasant sensation. Heat raced from her throat to her fingertips and toes and had her sighing in contentment.

Uriah raised his empty shot glass to her. "Here's to getting through your first month of teaching."

She returned the gesture. "Here's to your dubious ethics."

"Yeah, this is excellent stuff, isn't it?"

"Is this the first time you've stolen Firewhisky from Slughorn?"

"Firewhisky? Yes."

Lily laughed and Uriah poured them both another shot.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, Lily asked, "You seeing your mum again this weekend?"

"Hm? No, I saw her last weekend. Republic Day, and all."

"Oh." Lily nodded, vaguely remembering something about that in her pre-Hogwarts classes at the local primary school.

"Yeah," he said, nodding along. "Anyway, I've got a mass of homework to go through so I'll be in my office all weekend, sadly. No sunlight for me. I thought I'd at least start the whole affair off with a drink." He gestured to the bottle between them.

She couldn't fault that logic.

"Beyond that," Uriah went on, leaning toward her unexpectedly, "I've been watching you this week and you seem to be in something of a blue mood. I thought you might like to talk."

Lily blinked stupidly. "Have I? Seemed that way, I mean."

"A bit, yeah."

She blinked again. "You've been watching me? Isn't that a bit creepy?"

Uriah sat back in his chair, his cheeks tinted. "I feel obligated to look out for you, alright? As my new, untested colleague…and because, well, I consider you a friend. Sorry if that's too presumptuous—"

"No, no," Lily said over him, getting a bit embarrassed herself. "It's alright. I…I feel the same. And I'm sorry I've made you worry for me…I've just had a lot on my mind."

To break the awkwardness in the room, Lily grabbed the bottle and poured them both shots filled to the brim. She clinked the glasses together before snatching hers off the table and downing it so quickly she exhaled a huge puff of smoke.

Affirming her friendship with Uriah felt strangely intimate, like laying bare a part of herself, and that made her deeply uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the isolation of Hogwarts that made him her only good friend in proximity. There simply was no one else near her age that she could relate to. If things went poorly with Uriah she would, for all intents and purposes, be alone.

Whatever it was, Lily couldn't deny feeling close to Uriah Meadowes despite the short amount of time in which she'd known him.

"Say something," she muttered after a minute of flushed silence.

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Something. And drink your Firewhisky."

Uriah chucked. "Are you my ma?"

"No. Why, does your mother tell you to drink your Firewhisky?"

"She tells me to do quite a lot of things in that tone of voice, sure," he told her, and took his shot gamely. "The bother is that I'm an only child—you know how it is, of course. I've got no one else to bear the brunt of her attention. Never did, growing up. Bless the woman but she is bossy."

You know how it is, of course.

Now that stung, though Uriah couldn't have known it would.

"I have a sister," Lily blurted out.

Uriah paused and blinked. "Oh."

"Mm."

"You don't act like you have a sister. Forgive me, I know I don't know you all that well yet, but…" Uriah rubbed his forehead. "I apologise."

"No, it's alright," she said. "We don't talk much. In fact, last month was the first time I'd heard from her in…three years, I suppose. Almost three years."

It was the alcohol in her blood, she realised hazily, that was loosening her tongue. Lily avoided the topic of Petunia just as she avoided the topic of her parents, since they had become one and the same.

"What happened last month?"

"She invited me to her wedding."

Uriah nodded slowly. "Is her husband-to-be nice?"

"I don't know," Lily said, shrugging, and then laughed to cover up the prickling behind her eyes. "I haven't met him. I don't know anything about my sister anymore—I don't know where she lives, what she does for work or…or if she works at all. And I don't know whether her favourite colour is still baby pink, or if she still gardens as a hobby. I'm completely at a loss."

"Wha…" He cleared his throat. "What happened?"

"I was born a witch, she was born a Muggle," she said. Lily poured herself another shot and let it burn down her throat in one overlarge gulp. "Well, that's part of it."

He nodded. "I can see how that would be…challenging."

"And then," Lily said in a burst of resentment she didn't realise was still inside her, "then, this boy in our neighbourhood—this boy who was half-blood, decided to tell me all about who I am, what I am, and terrorized my sister because she was a Muggle. He dropped a tree branch on her! With magic! And I was so caught up in the wonder of magic and waiting for my Hogwarts letter that I didn't pay any attention to my sister and she…she hated me because I was different and that difference hurt her.

"And the worst part about it all was that I remained friends with the arsehole until…well, it started to go wrong a long time before, but we stopped being friends in sixth year. All that time, I took his side over my own sister's." She rubbed her eyes to keep tears from leaking out.

"That's why you haven't spoken with her?" Uriah asked delicately.

Lily shook her head, hands still over her eyes. "Oh…that definitely didn't help. But, no, we spoke now and again, even though she hated what I was—hates, I suppose—at Christmas and family holidays and whatnot. But Petunia hasn't spoken to me since I killed our parents."

Uriah was very quiet.

She lowered her hands and stared at them.

Lily hadn't let herself even think about her parents for years. Thinking about it was painful, and if she thought about it Lily believed she would physically break in two, split right down the middle with her insides puddling out.

So instead of letting the thoughts pour out of her in words, she forced herself to say, "I didn't actually kill them. Petunia just thinks so. Or perhaps she doesn't anymore, and that's why I'm invited to her wedding. I have no idea anymore."

Uriah nodded. "It can't hurt to find out. Have you written her?"

"Mm. But I didn't get a reply. Probably because of the owl."

"Owl?"

"Petunia hates owls."

"Oh…" He winced. "Well, that's a problem."

Lily turned her empty shot glass in small rotations on the table, the glass squeaking against the wood.

"She hates me, too. It's not just the owl."

"But she still invited you to her wedding."

"She did."

"Did you accept her invitation?"

"Yes," said Lily. She nodded like a bobble-head doll. "I asked Dumbledore for the day off."

"Going with anyone?"

She blew out a heavy breath. "I'd invited a friend of mine but…"

Gideon's pitying expression crossed her mind, and an unsettlingly familiar numbness seeped into her instead of the anger that had been burning in her all week. She felt so…lonely, even though she'd just seen her friends several days past.

"They said no?"

"He doesn't want me to get the wrong idea about our friendship." Lily huffed out a bitter laugh. "As if a man and a woman can't be friends without some sort of…honestly. I've been friends with him for three years, almost, and…"

"Is this the coworker you went on a date with a few weeks past?"

"No, no. This is, er, this is the twin brother of my best friend's boyfriend."

Uriah made a face. "What a mouthful."

She found herself giggling, much to her surprise. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

"Well, fuck him, then."

"Fuck him," Lily agreed, and poured more Firewhisky into her glass. She drank this one slower and, once she had finished, said, "Sorry for dropping all this on you. It's the alcohol talking, I think."

"No, I asked," said Uriah. "Don't you be sorry."

"Sorry."

"Oh, you think you're funny, do you?"

Lily shrugged. "I really am, though. Sorry, I mean. I'm not the sort of person to just drop all my shit all at once."

"Sometimes that's good," Uriah said. "I, myself, just dropped some of my shit earlier. It's what we do, as people, generally."

She laughed. It came up from her chest and soothed the hurt that had been lingering outside of her awareness, masked as it was by her irritation. Now that she was laughing instead of on the verge of tears, she suspected Uriah had had this in mind when he stole Slughorn's Firewhisky rather than as a kickstart to his weekend. That was just the sort of nice person he was.

So what if Gideon was acting like an idiot? Lily had never once wanted to date him, not even considering that she was entirely the wrong gender for his interest. And she had loads of other, male friends who didn't suspect her of secretly trying to seduce them—though Lily was confident a majority of them wouldn't complain if she ever did.

No, she was just fine without Gideon if he was going to be a prat, and on her birthday no less.

Uriah reached over and pulled the bottle of Firewhisky to him, pouring himself another shot. Once he had swallowed it, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh and said, "I'll go."

Lily blinked. "What?"

"To your sister's wedding." He rubbed his jaw. "Well, obviously, if you'll have me. I'm not going to bully my way in or anything, but if you'd like my company I'd go with you in a heartbeat. You shouldn't be alone for that."

And then the tears finally came leaking out.

"Oh," she said, touching her cheek when a tear splashed down. "Oh, no. I'm sorry."

"Lily—"

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this. It's the Firewhisky."

Uriah looked worried. "No, it's fine—"

"I'm not sad," she told him in an embarrassingly wobbly voice, "I'm just…I'm really grateful. Ugh, this is pathetic. Hang on."

"It's fine, really," he insisted. "You're a woman, you're allowed to cry sometimes."

Lily laughed through a sob. "That's sexist."

"Sure," Uriah said with a nod. "It absolutely is. But you're still allowed to cry."

She forcibly brushed at her eyes until they were dry. "I could kiss you, you know."

Uriah grinned. "Ooh, best not. What if I got the wrong idea about our friendship?"

"You know," said Lily, "I've only known you a month but I really…I'm so glad to know you. I really am. I'm indebted to you. I'd love for you to come with me to the wedding. Bless you, honestly."

"Of course," he said. "Any time."

Hope this chapter did a little bit to fill your James cravings! A note for the future: I'll be transferring my stories to ao3 in the next couple of months. I'm not sure if I'll keep posting here as well-if you have any thoughts about this please let me know!