A/N: As always, I apologise for the delay. I've been wrestling with the idea of spending some time rewriting the first bit of this fic to fit with what I've got going on now or continuing as is. Ultimately, I decided to press on for now, but stay tuned!

Enjoy!

...

"It wasn't a big deal, Mum."

Christine Evans scoffed on the other end of the line. "Staying the night with a boy without so much as a phone call is very much a big deal, Lily."

"It was just Sirius. And I'm calling you now, aren't I?"

Lily could feel her mother's narrowed eyes through the receiver. "Doesn't count."

"I'm sorry," Lily sighed, switching the phone to her other ear as she leaned against the arm of the nearby recliner. "I knew you would be at the hotel with Aunt Emma and Dee. I couldn't find you at the end of the night to tell you, so I just went home with Sirius."

"You couldn't find me because you were all cozy with Sirius for the last half hour of the reception. If I had a pound for every time I saw some random Dursley pointing and ogling at the two of you alone on the dance floor."

Lily saw red. "I don't give a damn what some random Dursley-"

"Well, neither do I, naturally," Christine snapped, her own temper rivaling her daughter's. "I just don't like seeing my daughter snuggled up against some guy I've never met for an hour-"

"Oh, now it's an hour?"

"And then disappear with him into the night." Mrs. Evans' voice overpowered her daughter's bitter quip. "I called the house over and over and got nothing! Then, I wait all day to hear from you and don't get a call until almost midnight. That's unacceptable, Lily."

Lily paused, grimacing as she suddenly considered how unnecessarily worrying she had been. "You're right. I'm...sorry."

The apology was enough to cool Christine off. The older woman took a deep breath. "I know that you're an adult in your world. And God knows you should be one in ours, but...Lily, my love. Please promise me you'll think of your old, annoying mum once in a while. I worry about you."

"You're not old and annoying. I should have found a way to call you before going to the Potters'...I promise to remember from here on out."

"That's all I ask." Lily could hear the smile in her mother's voice. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Lily sighed with a tired smile of her own. "Mum?"

Christine hummed in response.

"Do you think you could come home tomorrow instead of Friday?" Lily heard her own voice and was shocked at how small and unfamiliar it sounded.

"Are you okay?" Worry crept back into her mother's voice.

"I'm fine!" Lily was quick to offer. "Just…" She switched the receiver to her other ear again, uncomfortable with the humility it took to say her next statement. "I just really want my mum."

The plea hung on the line between the Evans women for several silent moments.

"I'll pack up now and be home in a couple of hours."

"No, Mum, it's-" but Lily stopped. She took a deep breath and pushed on with the certain kind of courage that was involved with admitting you needed something. "Thank you."

…

When Christine Evans finally stumbled through the front door of the Evans' house a little before three in the morning, she was bombarded with the brightness of the living room fluorescents.

"Lil?" she called, dropping her trunk in the entranceway and following the light around the quick corner. "Lily, dear, I'm-"

There she was, still upright on the couch...the only evidence of her unconsciousness were her closed eyes and dipped chin. She'd obviously been waiting up for her mother, if her rumpled day clothes and ponytail were any indication.

Her willow wand marked the place in the book laid across her lap.

Christine gently lifted the novel and smiled. She should have known from the tattered edges and heavily annotated pages.

Great Expectations.

Reading was something Lily had inherited from her father. Christine had never had the propensity for academics her late husband and daughter had, but she had always considered herself to be a healthy enabler, providing both of them their streamline of literature.

Christine laid Dickens to rest on the coffee table and turned the lights off. She used Lily's gentle stirring to aid her as she shifted her daughter's body, moving her head to the small pillow. Then, slipping off her own shoes, she nestled on the couch next to her youngest daughter and pulled the girl's legs off the floor and onto her lap.

The world was full of cruel sisters and dark wizards, but for tonight...Mrs. Evans and her little girl were going to sleep on the couch, finally close enough to touch.

…

"So are you going to tell him you're a ponce straight-up or let him figure it out on his own?"

James glowered harder at the parchment in his hand.

"You had to see this coming. Dumbledore isn't one to just let something go."

"I know, Sirius," snapped the other wizard. "I just haven't thought about it."

"Well," Sirius snatched the parchment out of James' hand and glanced over it again with mirth, "you might want to start thinking quickly. He's gotta make a decision at some point. Preferably before the welcoming feast."

He tossed the parchment on the small table in front of them and lifted himself from the sofa, stretching his arms above his head. "Stop moping. You've got things to do."

James looked up at his friend with lowered eyebrows. "I'm not moping."

"Oh, save it." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Come on. Get up."

"Where are we going?"

"Nowhere. But you have a letter to write to a certain future head girl of Hogwarts."

James' eyes widened as if Sirius had suggested he show up to Transfiguration stark naked. "I can't write her a letter."

Sirius groaned, pushing his palms into his eyes. "And why not?" he said on an exhale without bothering to look at the gaping boy on the couch.

"Be-because I don't even know her address!"

"I do."

"Okay, well," James huffed, "I don't...Padfoot. It would be weird!"

"WHY?" shouted Sirius, dropping his hands from his face and instead gesturing wildly. "Why would it be weird for you to write a letter to a bird we've gone to school with for six years? A bird who you fought Death Eaters over just a few weeks ago. A bird who spent the entire day traipsing around London with us yesterday, of her own volition." He dropped back onto the couch. "It wouldn't be weird, Prongs. You've just got it in your head that every fucking move you make with Lily Evans has to be monumental!"

James didn't really have anything to say to that.

"Get a parchment. Get a quill. Write her a bloody letter and tell her you want to meet up to talk to her about something important." He jabbed his finger toward James' face, almost knocking his glasses askew. "And before you drop your fucking jaw on the floor again, yes. You're going to meet with her. In-person. I shouldn't have to say these things, but you're not about to convince her to be Head Girl in a letter."

…

Lily shimmied out of her brown skirt and tossed it on the bed with a frown.

She was glad her roommates from school weren't around to see the pathetic mess of girl she had become, but at the same time...she could really use their help right about now. Years of teasing the other Gryffindor girls as they fussed over hair and makeup before various Hogsmeade dates had not prepared her for this.

The knock at the already open bedroom door made her jump and naturally lurch toward her wand.

"Easy, tiger," her mom raised her eyebrows as she noticed Lily's jumpiness. "Just checking in."

"Right," Lily pulled a smile, pushing her fringe off her forehead.

"So," Christine stepped out of the doorway into the room and surveyed the strewn about clothes on the floor, bed, and dresser, "you've been...busy."

The witch shot a look at her mother. "Help."

Christine laughed. "I always wanted sons to avoid this."

"Find something that doesn't look horrible on me for this one date and I'll let you legally change my name to Liam." promised Lily.

The older woman walked straight to the bed and picked up a pair of jean shorts and a white blouse with lace at the sleeves-both of which Lily had tried on twenty minutes ago. She tossed them to her daughter.

"How do you do it?" asked Lily, pulling her arms through the sleeves. "I tried this on twice and hated it. But now that you're here telling me to do it, it looks good."

"Great," corrected Christine. "You look great, love. Come here, sit sit."

Lily sat at the small vanity as her mother began the familiar routine of plaiting Lily's hair.

"I'm old enough to drive, you know. I can plait my own hair." Lily reminded her mum.

Christine continued to brush the light red hair behind her daughter's shoulders. "Driving is not your best bargaining chip, reckless daughter of mine."

"I'm old enough to apparate."

"Got me there. Hold still." She finished off the plait with a small cream ribbon. "Beautiful."

"Thanks, Mum."

Instead of moving from behind the witch, she moved her hands to the girl's shoulder. "So when am I going to get the 411 on all the boys that have suddenly taken over your life."

Lily rolled her eyes and moved to stand up, but her mother's grip on her shoulders was strong.

"Lily."

"Mum." she sighed. "I've already given you the 411. Sirius is a friend, just a friend. Ben is...well, I'm not quite sure. But somewhere between a friend and something more."

"And you want this something more?"

"I think so."

"Thinking and feeling are not the same thing, my love."

Lily shrugged. "They are to me."

"Hmm," contemplated Christine. "Something to work on then, yes?" She dropped a quick kiss on top of her daughter's head. "You're stunning. Have fun on your date. I'll be waiting up to hear all about it."

"After I-"

"After you call Mary and update her. Of course." Lily's mum chuckled as she moved to the door. "Don't worry. I know my place in the Lily Evans pecking order."

Lily shook her head in exasperation at her mother's dramatics. "Love you, Mum."

"Oh," Christine stopped in the doorway with her back to Lily. "Before you disapparate...there was one more thing I came up here for."

Lily lifted her eyebrows in expectation, praying this would be a quick 'one more thing.' She knew Ben valued promptness as much as she did. He'd, no doubt, already be at the park waiting for her.

"You mentioned Sirius. And you mentioned Ben."

"Yes?"

"But I have to admit there is one more boy I'm interested in a 411 on." She withdrew a folded parchment from her back pocket. "Pretty little owl just flew in through the kitchen window and brought this for you."

Lily's eyebrows furrowed as she crossed the room to grab the parchment.

"I didn't open it of course, but the name on the front was enough to catch my attention." She sent a twinkly smile over her shoulder. "Enjoy your date."

Lily opened her mouth to say something, but found herself severely lacking in words. Somehow she knew before she read the nearly-illegible return address.

James Potter.

…

He'd been injured. Again.

"No, it's fine. We'll apparate straight there. Sirius can side-along."

If the tension of the room were not already palpable, it was made evident by Sirius' lack of comment on mention of his inability to apparate. As part of his consequences after the Remus/Snape debacle, he hadn't been allowed to take the test. Normally, this wouldn't stop him, but they were going for 'incognito' tonight. He nodded quickly.

"Okay. But it's no rush, James. He's going to be fine. The healers said-"

"Mum. We're coming."

Her staticy face flickered through the flames of the floo. "Yes. All right."

Sirius glanced at James' darkened face and turned back to the fireplace. "Are you okay, Euphemia? Do you need us to bring anything?"

Mrs. Potter's face shifted toward Sirius with a sad smile of appreciation. "I'm okay. Thank you, Sirius."

He nodded again. "We'll be there soon."

"I love you both." With a pop, she was gone.

Sirius stood, anxious to alleviate the pressure on his knees from that extended floo conversation. James remained on the floor, his gaze transfixed on the still sparkling embers.

"Come on, mate." said Sirius softly. "If we're gonna go, we should go now."

James was silent.

"Prongs. James. Come on."

He blinked. "What?" His head slowly moved to look up at Sirius' hovering form. "Oh. Right. Yeah." He shook his head and rose from the floor. "Let's go."

The Muggles never even heard the yelling.

The plan had obviously been for the small group of Death Eaters to set fire to the small village hospital and wreak some havoc, with the intent to maim, not kill. The Ministry had been tipped off so the Potters and three other aurors showed up, hoping to cool things off before they got out of hand. It was impossible to say who threw the first curse, but the shoddy killing curse thrown Fleamont's way was certainly the last.

Every wand froze as Fleamont's unconscious body toppled over the side of the bridge and slammed against the rocky banks a full story below.

While the lethally-intended curse didn't fully hit its mark, it was strong enough to knock Mr. Potter out. The fall should have been fatal in and of itself, but the only things that managed to break were a few ribs and his leg.

What landed him in St. Mungo's before noon on a Tuesday was his persistent state of unconsciousness and unresponsiveness to any sort of restoring potion.

The boys landed with the wobbliness of a newly licensed wizard in the alley next to Purge and Dowse, Ltd. The red-bricked run-down department store loomed above them as they scanned the area for onlookers. With a quick nod toward James, Sirius stepped through the designated window.

The Welcome Witch greeted them in her usual callous manner, giving both boys a serious once over before motioning them into the reception area.

"Potter, Fleamont." Sirius told the witch at the front desk. "Should have gotten here an hour or so ago."

"Second floor," responded the older witch without even glancing at her pile of paperwork.

"Room number?" pressed Sirius.

"You won't need one."

Sirius looked to James with a cocked eyebrow, but his friend's gaze was back on the wall, glazed and unfocused. With a deep breath, he squeezed James' shoulder and motioned for him to follow.

The boys trudged up the stairs and stopped as soon as they got to the top of the flight. Ministry witches and wizards were rushing every which way down the long hallway. The offensive lime green of the Healers' robes could occasionally be glimpsed through the throngs of neutral Ministry wardrobe.

"Oi," Sirius called at one of the Healers who zipped by. The man continued down the hallway without so much as a look to the boys. "Excuse me-"

"Padfoot." James spoke up, motioning to the first room on the right. Flashes of light and a bubbling of voices spilled out of the small hospital room. The boys made their way and stopped in the doorway.

There was an unconscious Fleamont Potter with half a dozen photographers and just as many journalists standing around his bed.

"But how did he-"

"It's amazing that-"

"He survived a killing curse, Bertie."

"How did he do it?"

"You know ol' Potter. Always could-"

James and Sirius blinked as they took in all the strangers gawking at their unconscious father.

"HEY." a shrill voice directly behind them immediately stopped their stupor.

There she was. Impeccable timing, as always.

"I already told you lot to leave! I can't help it if the Healers here are incapable of restricting visitors in to see their patients," Euphemia Potter shot a look of pointed resentment to the overwhelmed Healer in the corner of the room, "but I will not stand by and let my husband be ogled at by a bunch of conniving pricks who get paid to lie. Get out or I will make you."

Euphemia had a voice that could make Dumbledore fall to his knees begging for forgiveness over a crime he never committed. The reporters were reduced to a pack of worthless blubbering.

"Oh, Mrs. Potter, we just-"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter. I was hoping to-"

"We're leaving right now actually and-"

"Enough talking!" she shouted with a stamp of her foot. "Remove your lips from my arse and get out!" The men and women began to exit the room. "And for the record," she shouted as they descended the hall, "it wasn't a killing curse!" She ran a hand through her long grey hair and sighed in frustration. "A bunch of jiggery-pockery, flimflam-" She stopped her rambling as she seemed to finally take notice of the two wizards still standing just inside the doorway. "My boys." And she fell into them.

James pulled back after a moment, leaving a hand on his mom's shoulder as he inspected the sling around his mum's right arm. "What happened?"

Euphemia waved him off. "Oh, I'm fine. They were checking me out down the hall as all the reporters made residence. Honestly," she scoffed, "survived a killing curse. You can't survive a killing curse, it's in the name."

"If someone could do it, it'd be a Potter." Sirius offered with a small smile.

"Mum," snapped James in frustration. "What happened?"

Euphemia looked at him with the smile of a mother who didn't want her son to worry. "Just a broken arm and a few cuts. Nothing a good brackium won't fix. They're making me go back over there in a couple hours to finish up."

"And him?" James nodded toward his dad.

"Not...so lucky," Mia's face twisted painfully. "If he would just wake up, they'd be able to figure out everything going on, but so far he's...not responded." Her left hand played with the strap of the sling, nervously twisting the material around her fingers.

The healer that had been in the corner of the room was standing over Fleamont now, quietly murmuring charm after charm as her wand tip rested at the unconscious wizard's temple.

"You boys don't have to stay all day, of course. I just thought you'd-"

"We're gonna stay, Mum," James cut in with a bit too much harshness. Euphemia flinched in spite of herself.

"Right. Well, I'm going to run down the hall and see if they can mend this now," she shrugged the shoulder of her right arm, "I'll be back in a bit. There's coffee in 102."

"I don't want coffee." spat James darkly. "And why are you leaving? What if he wakes up?"

It was clear that Euphemia noticed the bitter accusation laced in her son's words. "My hovering over his body is not going to make him wake any sooner. I'll only be a couple doors down, James." She didn't wait for a response, turning on her heels and leaving the room, her dark Auror robes elegantly following.

"Prongs." Sirius sighed in warning. "You can't be mad at her." He fell into one of the small uncomfortable chairs in the corner of the room.

"Like hell I can," James bit back, joining his friend. "She could at least act like she cares about him."

"You know she does." Sirius' expression remained fixed as he watched his brother wrestle with a myriad of emotions. "Fleamont and Euphemia are never going to be the lovey-dovey couple of envy."

"They used to be," James crossed his arms across his chest, scowling at the floor.

"Your parents are Aurors, mate."

"Does law enforcement drain affection from you or something?" demanded James.

"During wartime? Maybe." suggested Sirius.

"Yet another reason to hate You-Know-Who."

"Look, I'm not about to give you a pep talk on parents because Merlin knows how fucked up that would be coming from me," Sirius leaned back as far as the constraining chair would allow. "But you have to stop expecting them to fit this mold that your pre-teen self created. You're only going to end up disappointed, mate."

James crossed and uncrossed his legs, restless and uncomfortable. "Dad, he...I don't expect him to fit any sort of mold anymore. He'll always be...him. But Mum, it just...it infuriates me. She has no problem suffocating me with her overwhelming sort of love and...merlin knows you get your share of it." Sirius chuckled. "But when it comes to him, she just...can't even be bothered anymore. It's like he's her comrade-in-arms before he's her husband."

"I don't know what to tell you, mate. But you can't fixate on whether or not they love each other. That's not up to you and frankly, it sounds exhausting. They love you. Isn't that good enough?"

James considered this. "It should be."

...

Holding hands was such a strange concept.

Who decided that mutually gripping a part of someone else's body counted as a sign of casual affection?

Lily couldn't stop her mind from racing on the elements of fondness as her hand swung heavy in time with Ben's. The small pond at Braver's Bend rippled happily next to the couple as the rare windiness of a July day glossed over it.

"But anyway, it's just shadowing, so I doubt I'll get a real assignment until the new year. To a certain extent, it just feels like more school. There's lots of studying."

"Oh, and you're so bad at that." teased Lily.

He squeezed her hand. "The charms to remove an elephant trunk from a wizard are a bit different than your everyday Aguamenti."

"Don't pull the I'm a healer now so I'm better than you card on me, Soares."

Ben laughed. "I have no doubt that you could take me in charms any day of the week, Lily Evans. Besides, I won't be an official healer for at least a year."

"That doesn't seem like enough time to train a seventeen-year-old to save lives."

"Seventeen doesn't seem old enough to become soldiers, either...yet here we are."

"Here we are," echoed Lily softly. "Do you still think about being an auror?"

"No," Ben shook his head. "It interested me and I enjoyed Snowcroft's extra lessons, but I think my interest was a bit vengeful."

"What do you mean?"

"We were the only Muggleborns in there. Sure, that room was full of witches and wizards who would defend us in a heartbeat, but in the end, it was just us at stake. I think a part of me felt like I had something to prove in being there. Like..." he searched for words, "if there's a war being fought because of me, I need to be on the front lines of it."

Lily considered this as they walked. Is that what aurors were? The front lines?

"I finally realised that the front lines aren't a concrete thing, so much as an imagined one," he continued. "I could have applied for the training academy or tried to go straight in and I probably would have enjoyed it and done some good. But that's not my calling. Being a healer, in my opinion, is just as much on the front lines of this war as an auror. So are the journalists, the professors, the potioneers. We've all got our part to play."

"You're a smart bloke, Ben Soares."

Ben glanced at her with an amused smile. "A smart bloke, huh?"

"A smart man," she dropped her voice, adopting an over-exaggerated 1940s movie star voice.

"Hmm," Ben did a quick glance over his shoulders and pulled Lily off the small path toward one of the ancient oaks that littered the park. "If I were a smart man, I would have done this an hour ago." Using the hand that wasn't still intertwined at their waists, he lifted her chin and dropped his mouth to hers.

Her toes tingled as their mouths moved together, far more intense than the innocent kiss they had shared after their date in London. That was nice, but this. This was...wow.

She closed the gap of space between her and the tree behind her, needing the support of its trunk on her back as she fought to stay upright against his body leaning closer, closer, closer. Now, she was trapped on both sides in the most intoxicating kind of claustrophobic.

His hand moved from her chin to the back of her head as he somehow managed to deepen the kiss even further. Lily sighed into his mouth, simultaneously fighting for oxygen and wanting him to take more from her.

A sudden light thump on her head was what finally drew her back from him.

"What's wrong?" asked Ben breathlessly, blinking to clear the fogginess that accompanied snogging in a park.

"Something hit my-oh." She reached down to retrieve the neatly folded parchment. "It's a...letter." She squinted and raised her eyes to see a small barn owl on the lowest hanging branch.

"That's a St. Mungo's owl. They're not supposed to be in Muggle neighbourhoods unless..." Ben frowned. Lily passed the parchment to him and he opened it, his eyes zooming across the page.

Lily watched his face, hoping to find an answer. "What is it?"

"It's...nothing serious."

"Ben." pressed Lily.

He ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair and pulled a smile. "No, really. You can read it. They had an auror come in this morning with some bad spell damage. The letter is just notifying me that I could come in if I wanted. It's not mandatory." He shook his head quickly.

"But you want to go." Lily couldn't help but smile at his poor attempt to conceal what was so plainly written across his face.

"Normally...yes," he allowed with a sheepish grin. "But I'm with you. And I'm having such a good time." With that, he stopped into her, nudging her back against the tree.

Lily smiled, but put a hand on his chest, stopping his descent. "Ben. You should go."

"No way. I'm not gonna ditch you just because some wizard caught a bad spell."

"It must be pretty serious if they sent a post all the way out here."

"It's not like I could do anything anyway. I've barely even started my studying. If the senior healers haven't been able to make progress, I'll just be in the way."

Lily lifted a knowing eyebrow. "Or you could be gaining valuable information as you watch the best healers of St. Mungo's do their thing."

She had him there.

"I wish I cared less." he offered.

Lily laughed. "You wouldn't be you if you cared less. Honestly, what would Rowena say?"

Ben grinned. "You don't hate me?"

"For doing your job of saving lives? My morality won't allow it."

His bright blue eyes suddenly lit up. "You could come with me!"

Lily scoffed. "To the hospital?"

The hospital she had only been to once before. Under circumstances she wasn't quite over.

"It's St. Mungo's. Half the witches and wizards in England are there right now. Besides, I'm not actually doing any spellwork. Just watching. I'll be in and out in an hour and then we can come back down here or go grab a bite."

She didn't want to. She really really didn't want to.

But his imploring eyes won her over. "If you're sure it's okay."

...

"I'd think he was sleeping if I didn't know how loud he normally snores."

James looked up to watch his mother drop into the empty chair across from him. He didn't bother to reply to her poor attempt at humour.

"Where's Sirius?" pressed Euphemia.

"Coffee."

"Ah," Euphemia shifted the grip on the cup in her hand and stared into the drink.

The two Potters sat in uncomfortable silence. The tension was palpable, both mother and son simultaneously anxious to say what they wanted to say...and ignore it. The mental war finally pushed James over the edge and he was just about to fire off a line of frustrations, when the door swung open to reveal a new healer.

"Mrs. Potter?"

Euphemia stood up and tracked across the room, nodding at the blonde wizard.

"My name's Alexei Larkin. I'm from the Intensive Spellwork Research Division. Your husband's situation has been debriefed to me and I came over to see if I could try a few things we've been working on in the lab."

"Of course," Mia nodded. "Whatever you need to do."

"Thank you," the young wizard offered a polite smile. "Secondly, would it be all right if I'm shadowed by one of our apprentices. I can assure you that he's been thoroughly vetted for security purposes. He won't be actively doing any wandwork, this would merely be to grow his exposure to cases like your husband."

Cases. James hated how that sounded.

"Absolutely. Like I said, whatever you need to do." She turned back to her son, who's gaze remained sullenly fixated on the floor. "James, dear, why don't we step out and let the healers have some space?"

James glared at his mother, but rose from the chair and followed her out, none-the-less. Only to find himself face-to-face with Ben Soares and...Lily?

She jumped back from where she had been rather close to Soares, talking lowly with their heads bent together.

"What? Oh...Potter. Hi. What are you-I mean...um." Her stammering continued as Ben kissed her cheek and went into his father's room.

James paused, trying to process through what was going on, but decided he didn't want to.

Not now.

He pushed past Lily and followed his mother down the hall. Even being with her was better than talking to Lily right now.

"Potter?" Lily's confused question trailed after him. "James!"

Euphemia looked over her shoulder at him questioningly as they continued their descent down the hall, but if she was confused by her son's retreat from the pretty red-headed witch, she didn't voice it.

As his mother turned into the small second floor waiting room, he felt a sting at his back. Yelping in surprise, he whipped around to see Lily Evans hot on his tail, wand out.

"Potter." she spat, eyes piercing him.

"What the hell?" he yelled, rubbing at his back. The witch was mad.

"Why did you just run away from me?"

He rolled his eyes, darkly. "I hardly ran from you, Evans. Honestly, I-"

"Shut up." she commanded, still holding her wand between them. Come to think of it...it was really the only thing between him. "What's your problem?"

He crossed his arms, staring down at her with irritation. "What are you doing here, Evans?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here!" Lily cried, throwing her hands up in wild frustration. She seemed to forget the commitment to keeping her wand trained on his chest.

"My dad's unconscious in there!" He jabbed down the hall, but as soon as he said the words, it was clear he didn't need to specify what room he meant.

Her eyes widened. "Your...oh." The fight fell from her in an instant. "The letter...it was...oh."

"Yeah." he snapped. "So if you don't mind, I don't really want to stand around for a cheery little chat, or whatever you had in mind." He turned on his heels to find his mother, but was stopped by an icy hand on his wrist.

"Hey," she implored, forcing him to turn and look at her, really look at her. "I'm sorry I was an arse."

His mouth twitched as he fought to stay angry, stay angry, stay angry. But...it was Lily.

"S'fine," he muttered, with a defeated shrug of his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" She kept her grip tight on his wrist as she held his gaze, not letting his eyes flicker to the floor where she knew they wanted to go.

"I'm fine," he sighed, freeing his arm. "Just a long morning."

"Is he...is he gonna be alright?" Lily had less confidence this time.

"I don't know." he offered, truthfully, helplessly.

"I'm sorry." And she hugged him. Again. Like she had on the platform at King's Cross.

That had to stop happening.

"Like I said," he used his height to get leverage on her shoulders, pushing her away and taking a step back, "it's fine."

Her eyes shifted to his hands on her shoulders and a strange mix of emotions filled her gaze. "Right," she nodded quickly. "Then, I'll uh...I'll go back and, er, wait. Down there."

He immediately felt terrible, noting the quick flash of hurt across her face and the sudden discomfort. "Evans, I'm-"

"No. No, really. Go...go be with your mum." She shook her head vigorously up and down, pursing her lips and managing a sort of encouraging smile. "I'll, er, see you later."

"Lily?" a lower voice questioned from behind her.

Lily groaned in frustration, rubbing at her eyes. "How is it that you're always around?"

"Ouch," Sirius said, cooly, watching Lily with raised eyebrows. "What's her deal?" He looked to James.

James just glared at Sirius and turned into the waiting room.

"Oh, good. You're both shitheads today." Sirius quipped cheerfully.

"Not in the mood, Sirius." Lily huffed.

"Let's take a walk, Evans."

"I said I'm not in the mood. I'm going to go wait-"

"A walk." he insisted, already strolling down the hall, knowing damn well she'd follow.

"Why is it that everything with the two of you is so bloody complicated?" Lily grumbled, trudging along beside him.

"I could ask you the same thing." he countered.

"Me?" Her face scrunched in bewilderment.

"The two of you." Sirius' eyes stayed fixed on the hall in front of them.

"Me...and James?"

Sirius looked at Lily with a lifted eyebrow.

"I...we-"

"Save the sputtering, Ginge." He waved his hand like he was conducting a symphony. "I have important matters to discuss with you." His pace quickened as he rounded the corner toward the stairs.

"Sirius, I shouldn't leave the floor. Ben will…"

"Please stop talking. Your voice is particularly naggy today and I would really rather you not throw off my zen, Evans."

"Again with the zen."

Sirius stopped, abruptly. He turned to Lily and fixed her with a dull stare. "We're not moving until you decide whether or not you want to be cooperative."

"Okay, okay. God." She scoffed. "Important matters. Continue."

He paused for a moment before nodding and beginning his descent down the flight of stairs. "First question." He paused again, obviously for dramatics. Lily bit her tongue to keep from pointing out this or the way he managed to hold his chin up as he walked down the stairs. Lily would have fallen to her death on the first step if she tried this. Posh prat. "Where the hell do you get off thinking you can show up here with your boyfriend?"

Lily scoffed. "That's the important matter? I'm only here because of my boyfriend, you prick! He's doing the apprenticeship here and they called him in. It's not like I begged for our date to be in a hospital."

Sirius seemed to mull this over. "And Soares didn't know it was James' dad?"

"No. Obviously."

"So why the hallway duel with Prongs?" He exited the stairwell into the bus waiting room of the ground floor, heading straight for the front door.

"It wasn't a duel. And where are we going?"

"I know a Lily-Evans-stinging-hex mark when I see one." He released a bark of laughter. "You forget our deep history, Ginge."

Lily rolled her eyes. "He was being a git."

"To you? Shocking."

She glared. "I thought we were past that shite. I don't understand him."

Sirius hopped through the window that led to the London street. It wasn't even noon on a Tuesday so the road was a good deal quieter than usual. Lily followed him out the window, albeit a bit clumsier.

"Where are we going?" she repeated, as she stumbled into his back.

"I told you. A walk."

Lily rolled her eyes but followed him.

"So you didn't know about Fleamont. That's good." Sirius nodded. "But it is still Fleamont and you did show up with your boyfriend, accident or not. That's bad."

"Next time I go somewhere, I'll be sure to call ahead to make sure I won't run into anyone I know." said Lily, snarkily. "I was with Ben, Mungo's told him to pop in, I came with. No ulterior motives. Besides, why does it matter that I showed up? It sucks that Mr. Potter got hurt, but why does his son look at me like I'm the Death Eater that put him there in the first place?"

"Prongs is emotionally stunted."

"Emotionally stunted," Lily snorted, hurrying to keep up with Sirius' long strides. "Right."

"He felt ambushed."

"But I didn't do anything! I just tried to talk to him because I thought we were mates and I thought that talking was something mates could do and he bit my bloody head off."

Sirius stopped, looking at the small shop they had arrived at.

"A bookshop?" Lily questioned.

"Are you suddenly averse to reading?" he said drily. "Forgive me for years of mistaking the thing consistently glued to your hands to be a book."

"I see shithead is a contagious condition." she muttered.

Sirius opened the door, purposefully allowing it to slam in Lily's face.

"Charming."

"Prongs has a complicated relationship with his parents." Sirius said simply, expertly navigating between the shelves. Obviously on a mission. "Don't get me wrong, they all love each other and all that shit. But when his parents went back to work for the ministry, things got tense."

"Tense, how?"

"Fleamont and Euphemia are almost never home at the same time. Fleamont is almost never home at all." He stopped in front of a shelf, tilting his head to read the titles. "It's not his fault and James knows that. So most of his frustration is really at himself."

"He's projecting." Lily nodded in understanding.

"Sure." Sirius shrugged, pulling a book off the shelf. "He had a happy childhood and even when his parents were aurors when he was young, it wasn't wartime. They had consistent work schedules, vacation time," he looked up from the back cover of the book he was reading to fix Lily with a knowing look, "less days at St. Mungo's."

He frowned at whatever he found on the summary, carelessly shoving the book back onto the shelf, letting it rest perpendicularly to the rest of the shelf. Lily groaned, replacing the book to its proper home. She read the title: Into the Wind-One Motorcyclist's Journey Through the Swiss Alps.

"Anyway, he just lets himself get stressed out about all of it. Worrying about them, wishing they were home, knowing they aren't as young as they should be to be doing as much as they are."

"How old are they?"

"Old." He handed her another book he apparently wasn't interested in. She sighed, but put it back in its place. Basics of Engine Design. "And he's right. They shouldn't be doing all the things they're doing. They've had way too many near-misses. Don't get me wrong...they're incredibly skilled, but that's made the Ministry put them on a bit of a pedestal, see? James is...understandably...worried that the Ministry is running them into the ground and not overly concerned with their well-being."

"They retired several years ago for a reason. Why don't they just tell the Ministry no?"

"Because you, Lily Evans, are not the only one with a saving-people complex." He smirked. "The Potters buy into that ideology to a chronic degree."

Lily allowed herself to smile.

"Keep this one." Sirius handed her another book. The Perfect Vehicle. "They won't stop until the war is over...or they die. James knows that."

"And he hates it," Lily supplied.

"Yes. And no." Sirius shrugged, walking back to the front. "He wishes they were around more and safer. But he also understands that what they're doing is bigger than that. Thus, his frustration."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Sirius paused at another shelf, scanning the authors this time. "Just popping the bubble."

Lily looked at him questioningly.

"The James Potter bubble." Sirius explained. "While Jamesy may not have the same lovely sibling relationships you and I have, he's got his own issues. It's important to know that." His finger stopped it's book spine scan to pull an older looking tome off the shelf. Instead of handing it to Lily, he put it under his arm. "And you seem to have perpetually bad timing. So I figured if you're going to keep catapulting yourself into trouble, you may as well be prepared."

Lily chuckled. "I don't think there's any sort of preparation for the situations I find myself in."

"Well," Sirius began to walk to the small counter at the front, "you don't exactly help yourself out." He motioned for Lily to place the book she was holding on the counter and he dropped his new find down as well.

"What is that supposed to mean? I don't ask for trouble."

"Except that you kind of do." He rang the small bell for the clerk to come help them and then dropped his voice, "Help." He dumped a wad of Muggle bills into Lily's hands.

She rolled her eyes, sorting through the random pieces to find a couple pounds and shillings.

The store clerk stepped out from behind a raggedy curtain concealing a back room. "Hello. Just these?"

Sirius nodded as Lily dropped the money onto the counter. "Half of the situations you end up in are your own fault."

Lily scoffed in disdain as the man counted the money and pushed the books back toward them with a smile. "How do you figure that?"

"Thank you," Sirius nodded to the clerk, grabbing the books from the counter and handing the second one to Lily. "Easy. Your saving people complex."

Lily sighed, but smiled as she looked at the book he handed her.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

…

A/N: Thank you for reading.

xoxo Abi