A/N: This will be a professor jily AU fic, with one chapter for each month of the year. Very AU, Lily didn't go to Hogwarts, no war, etc. You'll get the full gist throughout the story. Hope you enjoy this chapter - August! Let me know what you think! Thank you to petals-to-fish for encouraging me writing this fic hugs hugs hugs.

Scotland in August is fairly close to ideal, light breezes, long days with lingering twilight, stars winking into wakefulness as the rich emerald grasses sway below. And just over that last hill, hidden beyond the reach of unaware Muggles, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry towers over the little hamlet of Hogsmeade, its ancient stone walls and turrets rising like sentinels while the Giant Squid lifts a lazy tentacle to slap at the gentle waves of the Great Lake.

Lily'd arrived over the weekend, a cozy room at Madame Rosmerta's more than enough while she waited for the official faculty welcoming brunch on Monday morning. Then it would be back to London for a brief visit with Petunia - hopefully - and some last minute preparations for the upcoming school year.

Ideally, she'd have taken advantage of the time to explore the little village, maybe wander around the grounds and perhaps see whether Remus had exaggerated the superiority of Hogwarts over all other schools, including her alma mater, Beauxbatons.

Which, Lily was obligated to refute, based on her ingrained allegiance. Though she'd never been one to follow those sorts of obligations. Especially when she's been hired as part of a new push at Hogwarts to increase actual magical awareness of Muggle life, customs, and practices. There was a measure of acknowledgement of Muggle and Muggleborn struggles at Beauxbatons, but the general feeling among her peers had been a mix between feigned interest that came to a stop when any actual action was required and complete and unabashed apathy.

It was in such an odd, roundabout way that this professorship came to be that Lily sometimes woke up and barely believed the letter had come. And many people say this sort of thing mainly to have a cute anecdote, but Lily's taken to tacking up the letter written in gaudy flowing script from Headmaster Dumbledore just over her nightstand as a daily reminder that she's not gone 'round the bend.

But her planned jaunts were halted when she woke the morning after arriving to a pounding headache and raging fever. Rosmerta knocked on the door when it hit half past three and Lily hadn't made an appearance downstairs. When she saw her guest's state, Rosmerta had already been halfway to flooing the school healer, but Lily's pitiful state and pleading apparently won her over, so the bar owner disappeared to whip up a fresh pot of potato leek soup while Lily dug around in her stores for fever reducing potions.

By Saturday evening, Lily had sweated through her sheets and luckily most of the fever and Sunday was spent trying to get her wits about her and review the myriad of notes she'd made for the first faculty meeting.

In some stroke of luck, Lily wakes Monday morning to a bright blue sky and mostly back to normal, if a little weak and absent much of an appetite.

Still, she takes her time getting dressed and prepared for her day at the castle, slipping into the loo for a leisurely dip in the brass tub. After, when her fingers are nice and pruny, Lily dries her pale skin and takes care arranging her hair into loose curls that fall around her shoulders. She sets her peachy lipstick aside, putting that off for last as she settles in, sipping tea with lemon and honey in her old gingham dressing gown while pretending she can focus on the dog eared Austen novel she'd packed for her excursion.

Despite her divided attentions, Lily feels somewhat relaxed by the time her alarm sounds and the bustle of the breakfast rush quiets downstairs.

Taking a steadying breath, she slips on her pleated skirt, oxfords, and a cozy but still professional cable knit, creamy against the rough brown tweed of her skirt.

After double checking that she's tucked her notes, rain coat, and readers into her satchel, Lily clips it shut and slings the worn leather strap over her shoulder, fingers brushing the initials carefully stitched just at the flap's edge.

Rosmerta winks from behind the counter at Lily as she strides toward the side exit, grabbing her bicycle in the alley and securing her bag before throwing one leg over and pedaling out onto the high street.

She gets a few odd looks, but it's not uncommon when you're a Muggleborn trying to bring television and ink pens to the wizarding world. The sun's glorious and warm against her skin as she breaks from Hogsmeade's outer limits, nothing but lush countryside around her as Hogwarts Castle looms ever closer on the horizon.

Rolling hills give Lily a bit of exercise as she breathes deep and the exertion clears her head while simultaneously making her rethink the jumper choice. Not that the alternative of woolen, stuffy working-witch's robes would have been much better.

At least this way, she's not running the risk of getting caught up in her bicycle's gears.

Dirt road turns to gravel and suddenly she's at the wrought iron gates, twin winged boars towering overhead and for the first time, Lily realizes she's arrived and has no clue how to actually enter the school grounds.

A problem that is addressed almost as soon as she can recognize it when a trio of men saunter barely a few paces away, one of which she knows well enough. "Remus John Lupin!"

Oddly, the lanky bloke with hair that appears never to have been brushed turns first, laughter still lighting his face, spectacles glinting in the sunlight. "What's he done now?"

That earns him a shove from Remus, who trots closer and smiles when he's near enough. "Lily Evans - sorry I don't know your middle name."

"I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you."

The third member of their little gang snorts, tossing ebony hair that is entirely too gorgeous for a man to enjoy, and follows in Remus' wake. "I was expecting the death threats to begin after I announced I would not be using Borage's textbook for classes."

"I don't know who you are, but I like what you're saying," Lily chuckles, "Now can someone let me in?"

Glasses smirks and saunters closer, "For a price."

"Dare I ask?"

"It's simple enough. Just a simple exchange of information."

Tall, dark, and sassy throws an arm around Glasses' neck. "I'm going to bet it's got something to do with that mysterious middle name."

"I don't just tell it to anyone. You've got to earn it."

Glasses - James apparently - laughs. "Ok, Rumplestiltskin."

"Well done with the Muggle reference."

"What do I win?"

Remus snorts and Borage hater drops his head, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like 'hot for teacher.'

"The satisfaction of not being a completely oblivious human."

Before James can deliver on the witty retort his raised brows promise, Remus flicks his wand and the gates creak open just enough that Lily - and her bicycle - can slip through. "Thanks Remus."

Nodding, Remus points to each of his companions in turn, "Sirius and James. They're terrible. Avoid them as much as possible."

Lily chuckles and they begin the meandering walk toward the castle, gravel crunching beneath their shoes. "Is there somewhere to stash my bike?"

"You've joined up with the right blokes," James answers and Sirius agrees, jostling Lily's arm, "Couldn't find a better bunch to commit low level hijinks at Hogwarts."

The men - though 'boys' might be a more accurate description - continue their easy chatter as they near the front entrance, wide, ancient doors looming large and intimidating. Lily wonders for a moment how they'll manage to open them when her fingertips brush the edge of her wand where it's tucked in her pocket. Stifling a grin at her own forgetfulness, Lily watches as James raises his wand and twists it in a complicated pattern, unlocking the doors and causing them to swing open wide.

Sirius and Remus enter without hesitating, their long legs carrying them into the courtyard and the castle beyond in a few easy strides.

Unexpected as it is, a rush of warmth hits Lily, the feeling of rightness almost overwhelming. Like this is where she's meant to be; home.

Beauxbatons had been amazing, the first time she really got to be herself, be magical. But it was never that cozy, welcoming place that sets you at ease and makes your pulse thrum all at once.

Here, just staring up at the spires that shoot into the cloudless Scottish sky, Lily can't imagine anything better.

While she's been having whatever this mini revelation is, Lily's had a silent companion, pacing across the uppermost step, wand twirling between his long, slim fingers. A bit of self consciousness sets in, but Lily powers through. "We're a bit early, yeah?"

James smiles, eyes soft. "Yeah, there's time."

Lily's lips tick up in answer as she mounts the remaining few steps and finds herself in a little haven of sorts, a bubbling fountain taking pride of place in the cobbled square.

With the familiarity of someone who's spent ages learning the entire castle and all its quirks, James meanders around the fountain, fingers teasing the chilly water as he walks past, his eyes on the birds arcing over the castle.

Following his steps just a few paces behind, Lily props her hip against the edge of the fountain, mind still catching up with just this. She'll probably need the last fortnight before term begins to get her head on straight again. "So is everything in Hogwarts as mad as they say?"

A surprised laugh bubbles out of James' chest. "Remus may have oversold - he's a hair dramatic."

"So no Game Keeper not-so-secretly tending semi-illegal magical creatures?"

James taps his chin and hums thoughtfully, "Nah, just rumors."

Lily grins as her steps clack on the flagstones of the entry hall. "I'm sure. You seem quite trustworthy."

Winking, James leads the way down one of many dimly lit corridors. "The most."

One of the most difficult things about starting a new job, at least from Lily's point of view, is that first meeting where you're learning an entirely new position and trying desperately to not forget everyone you meet. Though Remus, James, and Sirius would be hard to forget.

Luckily (at least in terms of recalling her co-worker's names) the staff is relatively small, with each professor taking on full course loads and dozens of students, so Lily's pool of colleagues to remember is fairly easy.

Professor Flitwick is practically an institution at Hogwarts, and an international authority on Charms, and Lily feels like a bit of a fangirl when she greets him. Somehow, she manages to keep her cool - perhaps the most swotty reason to be nervous in the universe - and introduces herself with dry hands and a friendly smile. The rest of the faculty introduce themselves in turn, Professor Binns offering a slight nod as he moves across the room and leaves Lily shivering in his wake, until Dumbledore calls the meeting to order and everyone shuffles into their seats.

For her part, Lily finds herself drawn to the beautiful grounds surrounding the castle and claims the seat closest to the wall of slim windows, hoping to spy a sliver of sky or get a whiff of fresh green.

She's doing her best to peer out when someone's elbow jostles hers chummily. "Already faffing about, Evans?"

Twisting away from the view, Lily blinks at the interrupter. "Potter. I bet your a 'hands on' type, eh?"

Dumbledore gains everyone's attention, giving some rousing introductory speech as James leans close and murmurs to Lily, "Nah. Transfiguration is all about wands. But really, you should pay attention. Get off on the right foot."

Lily glances down at his boot, currently flaking dry bits of mud onto her shoes and nudges his elbow. "How about you get off my foot."

And then a throat clears. Lily glances up, guilty like she's been caught passing notes in school, and finds Professor Dumbledore's twinkling eyes lingering on her and James as he continues, "I trust this will be an excellent school year, lead by a staff united in purpose and unique in its talents."

Aside from Sirius' snicker from the back row, the closing of Dumbledore's remarks seems to bring everyone to full focus and soon the meeting is in full swing.

Lily's intent - at least in some measure - was to try and lie low for this first brush with her fellow teachers. Let them feel her out while she did the same with them, maybe get a grip on what the culture of Hogwarts is as a whole before she jumped in with opinions.

But somewhere between the welcome mixer 'games' and discussing grading policies pre-OWLs, Lily finds her tongue and it's still as sharp as her old (and highly misinformed) Muggle Studies professor at Beauxbatons learned about two weeks into first year.

Which isn't to say she's not making friends. In fact, when she haltingly explains exactly what is wrong with allowing prefects unfettered ability to dock points from other students, she seems to win an ally in Sirius. Somehow, she's not surprised to find he has a sympathetic ear for the rule breaking students.

Altogether, when Lily muses while drifting off to sleep that night, belly full of Rosy's hearty beef stew, it wasn't such a terrible first day.

The following morning, Lily wakes as the sun spears through the eyelet curtains, that blissful relaxation of mornings with nothing on the docket settles over her. From the sounds echoing up through the creaky stairwell, it's clear the beginnings of the breakfast rush are at hand.

After lying in bed like a lump for a few moments, Lily grasps at the nightstand and seizes her book, flicking through to find her place among the pages, and manages to read through a few chapters before the loo calls her name.

In a handful of minutes, she's completed her morning ablutions and sets out to straighten up her things and select something cozy to fend off the chilly Scottish morning air. Crisp water wakes her when she splashes it over her face, and with a thick bristled brush, she folds her hair into a neat plait and tosses a knobby scarf around her neck.

Tromping downstairs, Lily orders a couple of Rosmerta's fresh baked muffins and swallows down honeyed tea. With a nod toward Rosmerta as she bustles off toward the busy four-tops, Lily emerges into the grey morning, wispy clouds dragging in striated slips across the pale blue sky, barely allowing the sun's rays to break through and warm the green hills.

The cobbled street is uneven beneath Lily's soft leather boots as she makes her way into the fray of villagers going about their morning errands, chill wind bringing a rosy hue to her cheeks.

Peaked roofs spear into the sky like a mountain range, housing shops selling everything from musical instruments to more joke equipment than a prankster could dream.

Along the way, Lily pops in to pick up some quills and stationary from Scrivenshafts, replenishes her stock of Peppermint Imps, and finally ends her meandering circuit in front of Zonko's Joke Shop.

Fingers brushing the aged red paint, Lily peers inside where garish green and yellow shelves feature Nose-Biting Tea Cups, Sugar Quills, and a few Wind-Up Dungbombs she's certain will soon become a bane of her existence.

Her curiosity (and slightly reformed pranking tendencies) draw her in, the bell ringing overhead to beckon her entry to the shopkeeper.

He's a short, squat man, who seems relatively calm considering the barely controlled chaos that seems to reign in the store. "'Lo, welcome to Zonko's," a box falls from a nearby shelf and seems to unleash some sort of miniature tornado, ruffling his lank blond hair before he flicks his wand and sets it back to rights, "Let me know if you need anything."

The shopkeeper - Peter according to his name tag - turns to head toward a half-stocked shelf when another box topples from a higher shelf, a viscous yellow fluid immediately attaching to his purple boot and slowly crawling up the laces, leaving sparkles in its wake.

Scowling, Peter flicks his foot to no avail and glances around, "Bloody hell - James."

Muffled laughter sounds from just over Peter's shoulder, immediately cut off by an expert chop into seemingly empty air to his right side.

"Shite, Pete," the disembodied voice begins as a tall man slowly appears from behind what Lily surmises is some sort of invisibility cloak, "Take a joke?"

"It's not funny when you've got to clean it up," Peter grumbles, "'Sides, that comes out of my check."

"C'mon Pete, you know I pay every time."

"Yes, James Potter, the adult who is actually employed to teach children budgets to afford pranking his alleged best mate in a joke shop," Peter says, a small smile ticking up his lips even as he swipes at the stain slowly growing up his trouser leg.

"I - Evans?"

Lily startles, half forgetting her own presence. "Potter, I'd love to say I'm surprised."

James smirks. "I've never been ashamed of my adorably mischievous nature."

That earns a snort from Peter as he goes about straightening up the main aisle. Though James' mini pranks certainly contributed to the overall mess, his exploits are far from the worst offenses to have been committed in the little shop.

"So you know James - is it a dating thing or?"

Flushing, James ruffles his hair and stammers out, "Er - no. Definitely not. Lily. She's a new professor at Hogwarts."

Peter's brows rise, but he doesn't question the complete horror of that attempt at human communication. Lily, however, is less understanding. "God, Potter. Glad to know the thought of me romantically is so terrifying."

"No - I. We're colleagues?"

The bell chimes the entry of another customer and Peter shuffles off to avoid further destruction, leaving James and Lily to mild discomfort and cheeky teasing, respectively. Though they do both calm after a moment, slightly uneasy silence falling between them as little quidditch miniatures whir about.

"So, you're staying in the village?"

Lily nods. "Yeah, it didn't make much sense to try renting something for barely a month. Rosy gave me a deal and Dumbledore's letting me move in a week ahead of schedule so."

Chuckling, James picks up a trick wand and fiddles with it absently. "Ah, see I used up my Dumbledore favors...probably in third year."

"Sounds about right," Lily agrees.

"I was a little arsehole."

"Was?"

"Ha-Ha, what a witty retort."

"And that was better?"

"Anyway, I'm much more mature now."

Lily bites her lip. "I'm not going to touch on how terrifying that is. I guess that's useful as a professor?"

"I understand the little terrors."

"We'll see come September, eh?"