I see the boys of summer in their ruin

Lay the gold tithings barren,

Setting no store by harvest.

Hogwarts, June 1978

Lily sat cross-legged on her trunk, a constellation of feathered teacups, textbooks with tails and fanged quills circling around her head. The ball was in half an hour and Cinderella still hadn't transfigured her glass slippers.

"You could get James to do it," Mary suggested hopefully. Transfiguration was to him what Charms was to Lily.

Lily shot her a baleful look. "I don't need a man to do Transfigure for me," she said loftily and tried another hopeful jab at her shoes. They gave a feeble quiver and satin was transformed to steel. "Well," she said, "in the French fairytale, I heard they were made of vair. Fur, not glass."

"James won't be looking at your feet anyway," Mary pointed out.

"No, but I will," Lily said. "And I'd like to know I was wearing nice shoes to Slughorn's last party." She tapped the shoes crossly one last time and told herself that though white fur was not glass, she could at least claim the dignity of artistic reinterpretation. "What'll you be doing tonight?"

"Screwing," Mary said succinctly. "It'll be nice having the dorm all to myself tonight with all the rest of you lot at Slughorn's."

Lily giggled. "That's one thing I won't miss about Hogwarts," she admitted. "I'm sick of enchanting broom-cupboards and the staircase to the girls' dorm - I swear McGonagall changes the jinx every week!"

"So you and James..." Mary began, grinning.

"We haven't talked about it yet," Lily admitted and Mary, who'd been lying upside-down with her head hanging and her feet up the wall, sat up straight. "There's always been something or the other on. N.E. , Quidditch, Remus' furry little problem or Sirius' love-life..."

"But you will talk about it tonight, won't you? There's only a few days left till the end of term."

"I suppose we will," Lily said, hugging her knees to her chest. She stuffed her feet into her fur slippers, resolving to look up Culpeper's Third Law of Transmaterialization and the shearing stress of glass in the morning. She'd brought a few tubes of Muggle lipsticks, discreetly purloined from Petunia's closet, and now she dithered between them. The light coral was the one she usually went for but now feeling quite bold, she chose a rich rose-petal scarlet.

"Have fun," she told Mary.

"Oh I will." Mary winked at her. "You too."

James was waiting for her in the Common Room. As soon as he saw her, he swooped but she ducked in time. "You'll smudge it," she said, pointing to her lips. He was just about to make puppy eyes at her before he thought better of it and brightened.

"As long as it's just your lips," he said, sliding his arm around her waist.

"Just my lips," she promised. "You can kiss the rest of my face."

"Oh I wasn't thinking about your face. Or just kissing, come to think of that..."

The Entrance Hall was thronged with couples streaming to the dungeons where Slughorn was holding his traditional end-of-the-year party. Remus was still recovering in his room from the aftermath of the full moon and Sirius was enjoying the lascivious attentions of a particularly busty barmaid in Hogsmeade but Peter greeted them in the hall. He had a plump, jolly fifth-year on his arm, clearly agog with excitement at being invited to the seventh-years' party at all.

"Sirius was right," James whispered to her, falling back a step behind Peter and Tirzah Smith. "This is for kids and toadies. Let's sneak down to The Hog's Head and..."

"We'll have the rest of the night," she whispered back. "I just need to meet Slughorn."

"Why?"

"You'll see," she said darkly.

The dungeons wore a determinedly festive look. There was a great deal of pink and lace in evidence, as though Slughorn had invited Madam Puddifoot to attend to the decorations. Possibly he had intended it to be romantic.

Like a great pink toad, Slughorn presided in state over the festivities wearing a slightly askew wreath of flowers and bearing a flagon of oak-matured mead. Working on the principle that one could never have too much crystallized pineapple, Lily had come armed with a hamper from Honeydukes.

"Lily, Lily, welcome," he said effusively when she came forward with her tribute. And then, with considerably less enthusiasm, "And you too, Potter."

"I brought these for you, sir," she said, as sweet and doe-eyed as an ingenue.

"Did you, you clever girl?" he said fondly. The hamper disappeared in a twinkling. If Slughorn had beamed upon her before, now he positively glowed. Even James was caught in the radiance of his smile and looked distinctly discomfited. "But then you always knew how to charm me, eh Lily? And you look so lovely too, my dear... and your ahem, shoes..."

Blushing, Lily tucked her feet under the hem of her robes. "Vair, Professor," she said quickly. "Its from a Muggle fairytale, Cinderella. She wore ahem, fur slippers to the ball."

"Did she?" Slughorn looked amused. "Funny creatures aren't they, Muggles? You must lend me the story someday, Lily. Children's stories are my weakness."

"Its in French, sir," she said.

But Slughorn wasn't listening. He gestured expansively to the three-pronged fountain at the center of the room. "Hippocrass and mulled mead and a dash of Firewhiskey for the adventurous," he said, winking at her.

"Is that wise, sir?" she asked. Butterbeer and pumpkin juice would have been more suitable, considering that quite a few of the guests were not yet of age. But Slughorn dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. She was certain Slughorn hadn't told Dumbledore what he was serving at his party.

"Oh come on, Lily, no need to play the part of the Head Girl tonight! You're all adults now, you should have some fun, let your hair down so as to speak - not that you haven't already-"

"We will, sir," James promised, grinning. "Have fun, I mean."

"Yes, Lily, listen to your young man-"

"Actually, Professor, I wanted to talk to you," she said quickly. "In private, please?"

Slughorn was in a jolly mood. "Oh-ho, Mr Potter, I would be careful if I were you," he said cheerfully, "I do believe your charming companion intends to steal me away." They slipped past the room where The Blibbering Humdingers were playing and found themselves a relatively quiet seat not yet occupied by couples overcome with amorous intentions.

"Yes, Lily, what is it?" Slughorn asked genially.

Lily folded her hands in her lap. She wasn't as good at this sort of thing as James and Sirius were, she'd had to practice it in her room for days before it came naturally to her. "Well sir," she said carefully, "I was wondering, when you mentioned two years ago when I became a prefect, about Ministry contacts-"

"Ahem," said Slughorn uncomfortably.

"-and you said something about how I might go far." She gave him an ingratiating look.

"Yes. Well. That was quite a while back," Slughorn said with a forced laugh. "No doubt, you've er decided that you'd be quite wasted on a dull Ministry job! Why, with your brains and your talent I think you'd be more suited to academic research, the ivory tower so as to say-"

Lily had already decided that for herself but she had wanted to see Slughorn's reaction. She waited quietly while Slughorn squirmed uncomfortably. "And with the present climate so unsettled, dear girl, and your background being as it were, I hardly think that you'd care to enter the Ministry. Take it from me, Lily, the Ministry moves as slowly as Dugbog blood-"

"Yes, I quite understand," Lily said smoothly.

"You do?" Slughorn's relief was painfully evident. He quickly tried to hide it. "Of course if you care to reapply in a few years, perhaps when you are more seasoned-"

"You mean if You Know Who goes out of power," Lily said bluntly.

Slughorn gave a little cough, his small eyes skittering here and there as though to avoid her gaze. "Yes," he finally said reluctantly. "Yes, I suppose I do. I am fond of you, Lily, and I do not think the Ministry is the best place for a Muggleborn to seek employment at, at the moment. To be frank, I would advise you to remain at Hogwarts under Albus' protection while you can."

Lily nodded. "Thank you, Professor." She stood up.

He laid an anxious hand on her arm. "You will consider my advice?"

"Yes," she lied. "Excuse me, Professor, I should go find James now."

"Give my regards to Potter," Slughorn said. And then, abruptly, "If I were you, Lily, I would make a match of it. He can be quite a prepossessing young man when he puts his mind to it-"

"-and he's a Pureblood," Lily finished for him. She smiled faintly and Slughorn shrugged at her.

"In these unsettled times," he said ominously, "we would all do well to look to our own interests."

She found James sipping Firewhiskey with Peter and little Tirzah. He brightened when he saw her. "Hogsmeade?" he said hopefully.

She laughed and standing up on tip-toe, kissed him. "Alright."

"I have the cloak and the map," he whispered. "We can slip by the mirror on the fourth floor-"

"Lily."

Severus had made an effort for the party, it seemed. He'd swapped his shabby, ill-fitting school robes for a set in pewter-grey that suited him marginally better. His hair still hung in lank, greasy curtains but it seemed his face had seen soap and water recently. James' grip around her waist tightened but Lily forced herself to smile. After all, it was probably the last time she'd see him in school she thought. She could make an effort too.

"Severus," she said pleasantly, wriggling out of James' grip. Peter fingered his wand anxiously.

"Would you like a drink?" Severus asked haltingly.

"No thank you, James and I were just about to step out."

"Well," Severus, who'd never been the best at small talk, floundered. "Would you like to dance?"

"No," James growled. Lily hesitated.

"Please," Severus said quietly.

"One dance," she relented.

The Blibbering Humdingers had struck up one of their peppiest hits - Let's Lumos! - and Lily found herself humming along to it. Severus' hand settled familiarly around her waist and she put hers on his shoulder. It was pleasant - but only for a few moments. "The Hog's Head, I suppose," he said bitterly.

"Even if we are going there, its none of your business," she told him coolly.

"Nothing you do is any of my business. You made that quite clear." He was trying to make her feel guilty but it had stopped working years ago. How had she let herself be taken in so long? She'd never felt as light, as free as she did when she'd stopped caring - about him, about Tuney. Sometimes she thought that made her cruel, a truly nasty person inside. But then sometimes, she didn't care.

"We're not friends anymore," she pointed out.

"We were once," he said. Almost tenderly, he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering too long on the side of her face.

She stepped back, out of sync with the other dancers, out of his arms. "Stop that."

He still had his hand clutched around her elbow, now he held her fast when she tried to leave. "You must listen to me," he said harshly.

"I don't have to do anything, Snape," she hissed. "Now let me go before there's even more of a scene."

"No." His voice was desperate, he pulled her back to him, his breath hot and fetid on her face while she struggled and tried not to draw any more attention to herself than she had to. "Lily, the Dark Lord wants you-"

"Lily, James wants you," James said cheerfully and just like that, she had changed partners. There wasn't a scene at all, much to her relief. "You looked like you needed help."

She rested her head against his chest for a moment. "Let's get out of here," she whispered.

James frowned down at her. "Did he hurt you?"

"Yes. But it doesn't matter."

They left the dungeons, James wrapping himself protectively around Lily. By the time they were outside the premises, far from Snape, she felt more like herself, laughing while he told her about Sirius' predilection for older women and the trouble he'd gotten in over the summer flirting with Fortescue's wife. "He banned the lot of us from the ice cream place," he told her cheerfully. "For life."

"That seems pretty harsh-" she began when there was a crack like a whiplash. She snatched her wand, uncomfortably aware that they were outside the Hogwarts boundaries and vulnerable, alone at this time of night. Three hooded figures stood before them, one large and heavily-built, one slight and stooped and the last tall and slender. They lowered their hoods and Lily recognized Mulciber, Snape and an older man with a pockmarked face and long grey hair.

"Miss Evans," the older man said pleasantly, stepping forward with his hands held out to show that he held no wand. "And Mr Potter. Such a pleasure." He seemed as at ease as though they were all taking a stroll down Diagon Alley.

James had his wand out too, pointed squarely between Snape and Mulciber. Lily could sense him running through a list of Bludgeoning Hexes, to maximize impact damage, possibly on the ground or in the air. She kept her wand trained on the older man. "And who are you?" she asked calmly.

"Augustus Rookwood, at your service, Miss Evans."

"You work in the Department of Mysteries," she said flatly. She kept abreast of the events in the Daily Prophet, even if it bored James to tears.

"How astute of you, Miss Evans." Rookwood beamed fondly at her, as though she were a clever parrot that he'd trained. "But then you came highly recommended."

"By Snape?" she asked quietly.

"Among others. Prefect, Head Girl, a paper published in Challenges in Charming and winner of the Dagworth-Granger Potioneering Prize - we would be quite remiss if we had not taken notice."

"Us. You mean the Death Eaters," she said, her words measured and expressionless. But she was nowhere near as calm as she tried to act. Keep him talking, she thought wildly. Keep him talking and someone will show up.

Mulciber chuckled. His voice sent shivers of revulsion down Lily's spine. "That's right, girlie," he said hoarsely. He twirled his want playfully, pointing it between her breasts and giving her a sly smile. His meaning could not have been more evident - he knew that she knew what he had done to Mary. Snape grabbed his arm and pushed it down forcefully.

"If you know so much about me, then you must already know I'm a Mudblood."

"A most tragic flaw," Rookwood sighed. "But in such a charming young lady, what does it signify? After all, who among us can claim perfection?"

Snape stepped forward. "Lily," he said nervously, "The Dark Lord means to grant you a tremendous honor."

"And Mr Potter too," Rookwood added smoothly. "We must not leave the Head Boy out." He offered James an oily smile. "I know your family of old, young man, a most impeccable bloodline, excellent breeding."

"And I'd like to keep it that way," James said coldly. "I don't mix with Death Eaters."

"Young and headstrong," Rookwood sighed, as though this, while lamentable, was not an insurmountable obstacle. "I am given to understand, Miss Evans, that you are far more reasonable."

She nodded. "I'm reasonable," she said softly. No one is going to show up. She pressed her foot ever so slightly on James' and spread five fingers against his wrist. He would understand. "Talk."

"The Dark Lord-"

"NOW!" she screamed. She hit Rookwood in the chest, her Stunning Spell so fast and strong that he fell over mid-syllable. The ground between Snape and Mulciber exploded, both were thrown backwards and before she could react, James had grabbed her wrist and they had Apparated.

They landed on a cobbled street, in a place where the darkness was so intense that she could barely make out the shape of her hands. "Ouch," she whimpered. She'd fallen on her hands and knees, skinning them, and James' weight lay heavy on top of her.

He pulled her up by one arm, already throwing his cloak over them. "Sorry," he said shortly.

"Where are we?" she whispered, letting him lead her since he seemed familiar with the terrain.

"Home."

"Godric's Hollow?" she whispered. She'd been to the Potters' cottage in the summer, but this didn't seem to be anywhere close to it.

"One of my homes," he said grandly. He could never resist a chance to show off. "The manor. Its better warded and my parents will be home."

"Oh." She did not relish the thought of coming face to face with Dorea Potter nee Black again, but she supposed it couldn't be avoided. A long, low building lay behind heavily curlicued ironwork gates, at a whispered word from James, they slid open silently.

"Do you have peacocks too?" she asked sourly.

"Of course not," he said with magnificent contempt. "That's for the Malfoys. Nouveau riche. My mother would never approve."

A suit of armor opened the doors for them with a stiff, creaking bow. "Needs oiling," James sighed, pulling off the cloak and handing it to the armor. "Where's Father, Sir Athelred?"

"You give your armor names?"

The suit of armor pointed to a room down the hallway. Charlus Potter was sitting in a fluffy blue dressing gown with a plate of hot cocoa, warbling along cheerfully to Celestina Warbeck's latest hit playing on the radio. "Jamie!" he said, surprised yet seeming pleased. "I didn't expect you back so soon! And you er- brought a lady friend."

"Lily," Lily supplied. She liked James' father even if he seemed to forget her name no matter how many times she was introduced to him. She supposed it was his way of coping with his son's Muggleborn girlfriend.

"I don't know if your mother will approve-" Charlus began doubtfully.

And as though summoned by his word, Dorea Potter sailed in. Even at this hour she was immaculate in tailored silk robes, her silver hair cascading down her face in elegant ringlets and a house-elf trailing dutifully at her heels. "What's this, Charlus?" she began briskly and stopped short when she saw Lily and James. "Oh."

The house-elf pushed out a chair for her and she sank into it gracefully, as though the shock of seeing her precious boy and his ill-conceived girlfriend was too much to handle standing. "You are quite disheveled, James," she said, frowning. "Good evening, Miss Evans. This is hardly an hour for visitors to come calling."

"We were attacked," James said coldly.

"At Hogwarts?" Dorea raised a delicate eyebrow. "And where, pray, are the scars of the heroic battle you must have engaged in?"

"Alright, mother, we were sneaking out to Hogsmeade," James said sulkily, dropping on to a sofa. Gingerly, Lily took a seat next to him. Dorea looked ready to shoot fire from her eyes at her presumption but thankfully she said nothing.

"How foolish," Dorea said softly. "But then I suppose your untrammeled lust could not be contained any longer, Miss Evans? I understand that that is the way young Muggle girls are brought up, with no regards to propriety."

Lily bit her lip and looked down. "It was my idea," James said sharply. "And it was Death Eaters. They came recruiting."

Charlus sat up straighter. He even put down his cup of cocoa. "Recruiting?" he said softly. And then he nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see how that might happen. Jamie and you ahem, Miss Evans-"

"For the girl as well?" Dorea asked acidly.

"For the girl as well," Lily said coolly.

"She's Head Girl, Dorea," Charlus reminded his wife. "I read your paper the other day in Challenges in Charming, Miss Evans. Quite the paradigm shift. A most bold and stunning reinterpretation of Peerenboom's Principle."

Lily blinked back tears, touched at this praise from an unexpected source. "Thank you," she whispered. And then suddenly she was in tears, bawling her heart out.

Charlus looked quite terrified at the impact he'd had. "There there now, Liliana," he said nervously, "no need to cry-" Feebly he offered her his own cup of cocoa as though that might help. "A hot drink, perhaps a nightcap-"

"For goodness' sake, Charlus, she's not eleven," Dorea said harshly. "She's a grown woman."

"Lily." James put his hand over hers. "Do you want to go up to bed?"

With an effort, she blinked back tears and wiped her face with a shaking hand. "No, I'm alright, James."

"Good," Dorea said coolly. "You can both tell us what happened on your ill-ventured jaunt to Hogsmeade. To a private room at the Hog's Head, I suppose," she said critically. "Youngsters these days-"

"Augustus Rookwood came recruiting for You Know Who," Lily sat flatly. She curled up against James, defiant against Dorea's burning gaze. "Him and Mulciber and Snape."

"What did you say?" Dorea and Charlus both leaned forward.

"We said no of course!" James exploded. "What did you want us to say?"

Dorea nodded. "Yes," she said faintly, her eyes nailed to the carpet. "Yes, there's nothing else you could have done," she said, as though speaking to herself. "Blood purity is one thing but torturing and murdering Muggles for sport-" She looked as though she might cry. "Oh how could it have all come to this?"

"There there, love," Charlus said gently, patting his wife's shoulder. She gave a theatrical sniff and accepted the lace-trimmed handkerchief her house-elf fluttered before her.

"Oh but it is so tragic!" she whispered.

"Yes, well, I'm glad you Apparated out of there without any trouble," Charlus said firmly. "You're safe here now, that's all that matters - I'll sharpen the charms myself tonight. No harm done, no harm done."

"We attacked them," James said bluntly. "It was either hit or be hit."

Dorea gave a hysterical sob and even Charlus looked alarmed. "You did not," he said blankly. "You might as well have defied the Dark Lord himself as to raise a wand-"

"Two wands," James said sardonically.

"Boy, you don't know what you're doing," his father said harshly. "You might as well have gone and sworn your allegiance to the Order of Phoenix!"

"I will," James promised, standing up and pulling Lily up with him. "I'm not a child anymore, father, mother, no matter what you think. We'll stay the night but in the morning-"

"Oh don't, don't!" Dorea wept. She clung to James. "Is it the girl you want? You can take her with my blessing but please-"

"No, mother, its not Lily," James said gently. "Its something I've given a lot of thought."

"You're only eighteen, boy," Charlus said acidly. "I doubt you've given much thought to anything apart from inventing a new brand of Farting Powder!"

"We can leave now," Lily said uncertainly.

Dorea turned on her, her tears drying up in her rage in an instant. "You may leave now if you wish, Miss Evans," she hissed. "I won't detain you. But you will not drag my poor son out with you to be killed." She turned beseechingly to James. "You are overwrought. In the morning we will speak rationally, we shall call on Dumbledore yes, he will straighten out this tangle for us."

"I've spoken to Dumbledore," James said blithely. "I'm going to join the Order."

This was news to both his mother and his girlfriend. "You have?" both said at the same time.

James looked contritely at Lily. "I was going to tell you when the time was right-"

"And what am I, the housekeeper?" Dorea demanded.

James gently untangled himself from her harpy-like grip. "We'll speak in the morning, mother," he said. "I think we should all call it a night."

Charlus had picked up his cocoa with trembling hands but he seemed to be in no rush to drink it. "Scrappy will show you to your bedchamber, Miss Evans," he said faintly, nodding to the house-elf.

"Actually," James said, in a final burst of bravery, "Lily'll sleep with me."

"James," Dorea said frostily, "you might be a grown man but there are limits. Miss Evans will sleep in a guest chamber, as is proper. There will be no argument."

She woke up in the morning with sunlight on her face and James' legs tangled through hers. "Didn't your mother enchant my door?" she said sleepily, pinching his arm. She burrowed her face in the crook of his neck, savoring the freshness of his smell. Hers, all hers.

He smiled back lazily, only one eye open but glimmering with mischief. "Yeah," he said. "But she's not as good as me."

There was tea and biscuits on the sideboard, clearly a common Muggleborn and such an unwanted guest at that did not merit a greater breakfast. But tepid tea and dry biscuits suited Lily fine. James sniffed unhappily at the fare though. "She's in a temper today."

Lily fluffed up the pillows and lay back in bed, the saucer and teacup balanced on her knees. "You never told me about the Order." She couldn't keep the hurt from her voice.

"Yeah well I was going to tell you-"

"The others must be planning to join too, then," she said bluntly. "Sirius, Remus and even Peter since he's always tagging along after you three."

He nodded, looking sheepish.

"So you've talked about it," she said. "Without including me."

"Awww, Lily-" But he couldn't kiss this away. When she refused to be mollified, he sighed and said, "Yeah we were all planning to move in to the cottage at Godric's Hollow. It'd be a good cover. And you were planning to be Dumbledore's assistant, weren't you? Continue your research in Charms and Potions at Hogwarts?"

"I never kept that secret from you!"

"Dumbledore would have asked you too eventually," he said bluntly. "So then you would've known."

She sipped her tea. "Its dangerous. We could get killed."

"People are already getting killed, Lily."

She gave a tiny nod and focused on her tea. When she spoke again, her words were so low that he had to bend closer to catch them. "I don't want those people to be us."

"You're a coward."

"Yes," she said dully. She'd always suspected it about herself, that she wasn't brave enough, fierce and glorious enough to be in Gryffindor like James. "I suppose I am."

"Lily," James said finally, as though struggling to find enough patience to deal with her. "We painted a target on our backs last night when we attacked those Death Eaters. The Order is our only hope-"

"Oh I know that," she said. "I know the Order is our best protection now. But you want to go in, you must have wanted it for a long time now and I-I feel like I'm being forced in."

"No one's forcing you, Lily," James said, sounding incredibly annoyed.

She gave him a tiny smile, mockery in the creases of her mouth. "Just like no one forced me to join the Death Eaters," she said mildly. "They only suggested it." She hunted for her clothes. The dress robes were crinkled and creased, and there was a rip at the knees - she did not particularly enjoy the thought of appearing before Dorea in such a state but she was afraid to ruin the delicate silk with any poorly-chosen spells so she let it be. Her furry slippers had transformed back into leather, Cinderella's ball was over and now she had to deal with the disaster of the night before.

It was a measure of James' annoyance with her that he did not even look at her as she wriggled out of her borrowed nightgown and slipped into her dress robes. Usually he couldn't take his eyes off her naked.

"Shall we?" she asked politely.

"If you want," he said ungraciously.

Dorea and Charlus were in the drawing room, seated as stiff as statues on either end of a long sofa. "Really," Dorea began, "was a single night apart too much for your unbridled incontinence, James, Miss Evans?"

We didn't do a damn thing in bed, Lily thought furiously. But she turned a bright smile on Dorea and helped herself to a buttered crumpet from the silver dish. "You should be proud of your son's incontinence, Mrs Potter," she said sweetly. "He's so very skilled that he's left me quite... famished."

Dorea's grey-blue eyes looked ready to bulge out from their sockets. Before she could say a word, Charlus said quietly, "We've invited Professor Dumbledore for a chat this morning. Regarding your future prospects. Both of you," he said forcefully.

James settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his expression bullish. "I'm sure it'll be a lovely little chat," he said. "Dumbledore and I have already spoken."

"James, my darling," his mother began softly, appeasingly laying a hand over his arm, "You are our only son. Think of what you owe your family and your noble bloodline. You are the last of the Potters-"

"I can always make new Potters, mother," James said cheerfully.

Dorea looked as though someone had stuffed a lemon down her throat. Lily bent over the newspapers scattered over the sideboard, pretending to read but listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering when Dumbledore would make his appearance. It seemed ages before the bell rang and she heard the heavy clank of a suit of armor walking across the hallway, followed by lighter footsteps.

"Albus," Dorea said, gliding over to him with her arms thrown out, the perfect society hostess. "Such a pleasure to see you!"

"Dorea, as ravishing as ever, I see."

"Oh Albus, you mustn't flatter me so," Dorea tittered, slapping his arm lightly and batting her eyelashes up at him with practiced coquettry. Behind her back, Lily made a face at James and he grinned back at her. With much cooing and sighing, Dumbledore was escorted to a plush armchair, set squarely between James and Lily.

Charlus toyed pensively with yet another cup of cocoa, waiting for his wife to stop fluttering around Dumbledore like a besotted bumblebee. "Albus," he said, "since a father's words appear to carry no weight, I was hoping that you might persuade James that the course of action he has set upon is rash and foolish in the extreme."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "That it is," he agreed. "I have never hidden that aspect of joining the Order of the Phoenix from James."

"I don't care," James burst out, sounding like a petulant fifteen-year-old. "I'm of age and I want to fight. I want to feel like I'm doing something!"

"You might join the Ministry, perhaps Law Enforcement or the Aurors-" Dorea suggested feebly and James turned on her hotly.

"That pack of ass-kissing twats?"

"Language, my dear!" Dorea protested. "It is a most dignified occupation and with time and care, you might influence laws and policies-"

"Dorea," Dumbledore said gently, "James might manage comfortably in the Ministry with his bloodline."

"Yes," Dorea twittered, "The Potters have been pure for eight hundred years, perhaps more-"

"Or he might not," Dumbledore continued conversationally. "You and Charlus are known to be sympathizers to Muggleborns and Muggles, a fact that has drawn attention in certain circles. Charlus once authored a treatise on the use and advantages of electrical appliances for Mingling with Muggles. Do you truly believe, in your heart, that Lord Voldemort will stop at Muggleborns? Next it will be half-bloods. Quarter-bloods. And yes, in the end, Purebloods like yourselves. Like your son."

"Please don't use the name," Dorea said faintly. "I can't bear it." She looked ready to faint and obligingly, the house-elf scrambled forward with a tray of smelling salts.

"You want our boy," Charlus said dully. He didn't look up and suddenly Lily saw what an old man he was, small and shriveled with poor, spotted hands that shook when he spoke. "Our Jamie, our brave, brilliant boy. Pure eight hundred years. Gryffindors eight hundred years." He gave a wry chuckle.

"I am a Slytherin," Dorea said haughtily. "And proud to be."

But Dumbledore wasn't paying attention to her. "Rashness is the other side of the coin," he said mildly. "As you must remember yourself, Charlus. It was not so long ago that you took up a wand against Grindelwald."

James gave his father a wide-eyed look. "You never told me!"

Charlus gave a nervous little cough. "It was a long time ago," he said brittlely. "And your mother would never let me speak of my past glories, she feared it would further inflame you to a perhaps, unwise course of action-"

"With good reason!" Dorea said forcefully. "Filling your head with absurd notions-"

Dumbledore turned suddenly to Lily and she shrank back before his intense, electric-blue gaze. "And what about you, Miss Evans? I believe James has given you to understand his true intentions after leaving school - perhaps rather a bit late in the day."

"I suppose I'll have to join," she said dully. "I'm Muggleborn. There's no safety for me anywhere now."

"On the contrary," Dumbledore said mildly, "there are a great many options open to you, as I suspect you'd remember if you tried a little harder. You might choose to enter Hogwarts as an assistant teacher as Professor Slughorn has suggested to you on several occasions, I believe. You might choose to go abroad - I hear France is very pleasant at this time of year. You might care to rejoin the Muggle world and associate yourself with your sister, I'm sure a young lady of your determination and talent would be able to find a place anywhere she put her mind to. You might find safety in joining the Death Eaters even. You have a choice, Miss Evans."

"It seems a poor one now." She forced herself to smile. "If I choose any of those options, I'll lose James forever."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, as though he agreed and sympathized with the harsh choice laid out before her. But he could not choose for her. "Can I think about it?" she asked faintly. "I could work incognito for the Order, if-if that's possible." She knew it sounded stupid, the Order wasn't just some summer job you could swan in to and then if it didn't suit, pick up something else. The Order was for life - no matter how short it might be if you joined.

"There are many uses for Order members, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said, "not all our members are engaged in the front-line of combat."

"Then-then I'll join," Lily said. James beamed at her, ecstatic.

"Its the least you can do now that you've dragged my poor James in," Dorea said sourly. Lily supposed that this wasn't quite the time to remind Dorea that it had been the other way around - James had joined first and he had more or less dragged her in.

"Do I have to sign my name in blood?" she asked, with forced cheerfulness.

"Oh no, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said mildly. "That stricture is only for those who join the Death Eaters, an organization I am heartily glad you will not be joining."

"You didn't honestly think I'd ever join, Professor?" she asked in consternation.

He gave her a peaceable smile. "Life is full of the most disturbing little surprises, Miss Evans," he only said enigmatically. "I hoped you would not but that was all it was. An old man's hope."