Disclaimer: What if we just start using boyband lyrics as disclaimers from now on?

Am I original? (No-o)

Am I the only one? (No-o, there are two of us)

Am I sexual? (Well, this is a T-Rated story...)

AM I EVERYTHING YOU NEED YOU BETTER ROCK YOUR BODY NOW!

Chapter Fourteen

Starless Night

The news broke first thing.

It was everywhere the next morning: the Daily Mail, The Sun, The Mirror, even Gryffindale's Morning Tribune, which Lily discovered most unceremoniously at six AM when Petunia barged into her bedroom and slapped it into her chest.

"Ow!" Lily curled reflexively around her tangled sheet.

Petunia switched a lamp on, igniting the murderous cut of her jaw. Shadows pooled under her eyebrows. "Tell me it's not true," she said, and Lily was taken aback by the level of hysteria in her voice. "Please. Tell me it's not true. Please." She began bouncing up and down and whimpering, as though whatever was happening inside her head was simply too awful to endure. Lily noted that her hair was unkempt and she was wearing uncharacteristically frumpy pyjamas—just an oversized baseball tee that swamped her tiny shorts. It made her legs look even more frail than usual.

Lily pushed herself up on her elbows. "Wha'...?"

Petunia slapped her with the newspaper again, a sob escaping. "Bloody TELL ME IT'S NOT TRUE, Lily!"

Alarmed and sleepy, Lily grabbed the paper from her sister's flailing hands and scanned the front page.

Her fingers and toes went numb.

THE MARAUDERS' JAMES POTTER COMES OUT OF HIDING... WITH A MYSTERY GIRL!

Fans of the UK's biggest boyband imploded last night when their idols made a surprise reappearance... right here in Gryffindale! The boys, who infamously dropped off the face of the planet several weeks ago, were spotted (minus bandmate Peter Pettigrew) at the Accident and Emergency department of Gryffindale's Colin Creevey Memorial Hospital late yesterday afternoon. The circumstances of their visit are unknown, but we can't ignore these snaps of hunky frontman James getting tactile with a pretty redhead.

The Mischief Managed hitmaker was pictured holding hands with his mystery girl outside the hospital, their cosiness sending the internet into an immediate meltdown. Rumours are already swirling that the boys were shooting a new music video, but when contacted none of the CCMH staff were able to provide confirmation.

In any case, it would seem Prongs has found himself a fiery summer romance.

A rep for Potter declined to comment.

Right in the centre of the page, there was a photo of Lily and James holding hands outside the hospital. It was odd how clinical they looked. Everything—flashes, screams, a slow-burning purple sky—seemed dampened by grainy newspaper ink. Lily took a closer look and immediately wished she hadn't. Despite James' smock and wig hair, it was her own likeness that had her cringing. She'd been caught in joggers and an unflatteringly large Bob Marley t-shirt thanks to the haste with which they'd left the house. Her messy bun had slid down one side of her head, her cheeks were pink-tinted and shiny, and she was completely barefoot. It was the worst photo of herself she'd seen in ages.

It was also easy to see why the journalist had assumed she and James were a couple.

The irony was that there had been nothing romantic in that moment at all. Lily remembered only fear, confusion, the instinctive need for a life line. She'd have clung to Vernon Dursley the same way if he'd been there instead of James. But even if the paper had misinterpreted things, they'd... Well, they'd still been right in a way, hadn't they? The article wasn't technically true, but at the same time—in all the ways that mattered to Petunia—it was.

Lily stayed quiet for too long.

"Lily!" Petunia pressed, voice tight with desperation.

"Well they've got it wrong, haven't they?" Lily finally managed. "Look, you can see for yourself... He's just pulling me away from the paps..."

"You're lying," Petunia said, putting a trembling hand to her mouth. "God, I can tell. Just stop it." Her eyes filled with betrayal under sharp brows, and then she was crying in earnest. Lily spared a brief, miserable thought to her sister's inability to see the obvious when it presented as stolen moments right under her nose. Ignorance had always been Petunia's best friend. She'd disregard even the most blatant real-life clues if it meant maintaining her fantasies, but a soulless article in cold print—something institutionally sanctioned—that she would believe without question. Lily was forever baffled by the way her sister's mind worked.

"Look, I'm not lying about that," Lily said feebly. "He really was just trying to get us out of there. We weren't like, frolicking into the sunset hand-in-hand or anything, I swear. But... well..." She faltered when she saw the way Petunia's lower lip was trembling. "I mean. Like. Having said that..."

Petunia made a high, raw noise, and Lily knew the implication had hit home. "I'm so, so sorry, Petunia," she babbled. "I didn't mean for anything to—It wasn't intentional, I promise. It just sort of—"

Smack.

The sting of the newspaper on her upper arm sent Lily reeling. She caught a flash of red-rimmed blue eyes, pinched lips, the most devastated and piercing how could you expression she'd ever seen. Then, the door slammed.

Lily lay there in shock, feeling closer to tears than she'd felt in a very long time. Between yesterday's madness and the block of guilt in her stomach, there was just too much fallout to deal with. She had no idea what they were going to do about any of this. Unable to contemplate getting out of bed just yet, she grabbed her laptop with trepidation and leaned against the headboard to google "Marauders in Gryffindale".

The hideous hand-holding photo was everywhere. A couple of the articles were more thorough, with snaps of Sirius in his dungarees and a blurry YouTube video of Remus trying to exit the hospital, which Lily watched for twenty seconds before deciding it wasn't worth the headache. The clip was too zoomed in, shaky and punctured by breathless screams and "Oh my god!"s from the person who'd filmed. Half of it was just people's heads getting in the way. While it was impossible to make anything out except for a half-second of pale, ambushed Remus by the triage desk, the Gryffindale Accident and Emergency Department sign at the start of the video was enough to give everything away.

Somehow things only got worse as the day progressed.

The "mystery girl" narrative didn't last long for a start. By noon, the Daily Mail had somehow identified Lily and published a ninety percent out-of-the-arse expo on "SMALL TOWN SWEETHEART, LILY EVANS". Other media outlets quickly followed suit.

Lily browsed through Google results at the kitchen table that afternoon, surrounded by four silent Marauders whose eyes were glued to their phone screens, untouched cheese toasties going cold in front of them. There was a noticeably empty seat where Petunia should have been.

EVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT PRONGS' NEW GAL!

James Potter's mystery redhead has been identified as seventeen-year-old Lily Evans, a schoolgirl from Gryffindale. Lily has just completed her A Levels and hopes to study geophysics at university. She met James backstage at one of their London gigs.

"They've been trying to keep it quiet," said a friend of Miss Evans, who wishes to remain anonymous. "James is really into her, but Lily isn't into the whole celebrity thing. She told him she wanted him to take a break from touring. James would do anything for her."

As for the whereabouts of James' bandmates (Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew), our source claims they're sticking together. "They don't like to be separated. They do everything together. It's part of their charm."

Does this mean there's a Marauder man cave somewhere in Gryffindale? Because we wouldn't be opposed to that.

Related: Which Sirius Black hairstyle are you (quiz)?

Lily read these articles with such a sense of injustice that her eyes began to ache with the strain of bugging out. She would have given anything—anything—to know who the hell this "insider" was. How could tabloids get away with printing such blatant lies? And, she despaired, scrolling past another once-private picture of herself that was now public property, how could they get away with poaching her Facebook photos? It seemed they'd chosen the worst ones on purpose: Lily in huge wellies and no makeup, hair scraped back and mud-encrusted as she displayed the dangling catch on her fishing line (they'd cropped Bob out of that one); making a stupid face and holding a bottle of Perrier at a New Years party; pressing her finger to a hermit crab tank at the pet shop as though she'd found her long-lost brethren.

This was the Lily Evans they were presenting to the world.

But if the photos were bad, the comments were a million times worse. To Lily, who'd never had particularly low self esteem, they were a soul-crushing crash course in all the flaws she'd never realized she had.

Anonymous
Use your eyes people! James doesn't even look like he wants to be there. Clearly a stunt.

tbh
if this was a pr stunt they would've picked someone hotter or more famous, just saying...

Cece Liu (Facebook)
okay but why is he wearing that?

itskelsyall
hahahahah;aldksj;aldjks this is so ridiculous

Jerry Stevens (Facebook)
Why is this even news? Just another washed up group of ***s trying to make a comeback.

Emma Vance (Facebook)
LITERALLY NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE WHAT EVEN IS THIS BAND I WISH I KNEW HOW TO QUIT THEM

come to brasil
Come to Brasil! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Bella
she's fat :/

Anonymous
(a)Bella +1 and irrelevant...

"I am so sorry, Lily," James said dully as he flicked through his phone, one hand to his forehead.

Lily glanced up over her laptop and found the same apology she'd seen on his face outside the hospital. The window behind him framed a patch of woolly grey sky, the leaves of Teresa's weigela moving violently against the glass. They seemed to be on the cusp of a summer thunderstorm, and it was making the air feel staticky and odd.

"What are you sorry for?" Lily said, averting her eyes and clicking on another article. She wasn't about to let on that her stomach felt like a bag of rocks. "It's just rubbish."

"If it makes you feel better," Sirius offered, finally taking a bite of his toastie, "it's happened to all of us. That whole thing about me and Dorcas Meadowes from last year? Complete bullshit."

This surprised Lily, who vaguely remembered how Sirius' romance with the blonde Victoria's Secret angel had taken the media by storm.

"Ah yes, dear old Dorky," James said, adopting a look of tearful reminiscence. "A love story for the ages, that was. Your one true flame. The apple of your eye..."

"Shut up," Sirius said. "The point is, tabs'll write anything to make a few quid."

"My 'rehab stint' was also bullshit," Remus put in. "Just for the record."

"As was my DUI," said James.

"And I do not have a pet rat that I dress up in doll's clothes," added Peter, frowning. "I don't even know where they got that one."

Lily managed a wobbly laugh. "Is anything in the tabloids actually true?"

"Honestly? Not much. Boybands are built on lies, dear Lulu." Sirius tapped something on his phone, snorting. "Hey, look, this one says you're a backup dancer."

By two in the afternoon, Lily had over seven hundred Facebook friend requests. A website called 'Lily Evans Style' had sprung up with Polyvore sets matching exacts to her Primark tee and joggers from the hospital (which, even Lily could agree, was laughable). James' smock had become a meme. Petunia's rose gold flats went viral after being collected by some girls at A and E; they were calling it "a modern day Cinderella story", which might have driven Petunia to delirious, ballgown-filled delusions two days ago, but which now added insult to injury and made Lily desperately regret having worn the shoes at all.

The phone was ringing off its hook by early evening. Lily panicked and yanked the cable out of the wall, but there was just no escaping the fans. A particularly boundary-less gaggle showed up on Privet Drive and spent two hours strolling up and down the street before they plucked up the nerve to knock on the Evanses' door, where they lingered for five minutes in a cloud of daring, exhilarated giggles.

Lily and the Marauders hid in the basement and held their breath, certain that this was the beginning of the end.

The fans eventually dispersed, but the tension did not. With Petunia still shut away in her room, the five of them stayed in lockdown for the rest of the day. They watched Stand By Me on Bob's basement television set and grew restless as the first patters of rain began to snap down against the window-wells. Thunder rumbled, the TV flashed light and dark over their faces, and Lily's skin prickled when James put his hand on her leg.

His thumb hovered and tapped out a soft, comforting rhythm.

"Go fish," said Peter.

"No," said Sirius. He was lying on the floor with his calves propped up on the couch. Everyone could plainly see his hand (and had told him so several times) but he didn't seem to care.

"Take the sodding fish." James threw him a card from the stack; it fell on the bridge of his nose.

"I'm bored. This is dumb. We have actually reached the lowest of lows."

"New game, then?" said Lily.

Peter looked pensive. "I spy with my little eye..."

Everyone groaned.

"I stand corrected," said Sirius, flopping into the fetal position. "That is the lowest of lows."

"You know, Padfoot," mused Remus, "you might want to reconsider your use of the word 'stand.'"

"You might want to reconsider your face."

"That's it," said James. "We need to get out of here."

They'd had this conversation at least six times since holing up in the basement. Nothing ever came of it except some new tactic to "take their minds off of things." Unfortunately, nothing could quite distract them from the fact that they were cornered like a small deer. Hounds on all sides, hunters close behind, and all they could do was back up deeper into the cave. It would be nice, Lily thought, if a hole suddenly opened in the basement floor that could transport them far away.

"We should dig a tunnel," said James, apparently reading her mind. "It'll be The Shawshank Redemption: Boyband Edition."

"Please don't let that ever be a movie," said Lily.

"Too late," said Sirius. He'd somehow located his video camera without leaving his dead beetle pose, and the telltale red light was flashing.

"Stop that," said Lily, lunging toward the camera. He yanked it out of the way just in time, and her hand fell awkwardly on James' knee.

"Oooooh, brilliant!" Sirius exclaimed. "I'm selling this one to the paps! 'Lames Uncovered: Steamy Encounter Caught on Tape'..."

James compensated for Lily's enraged sputtering and deadpanned: "Not the time, mate."

"I want pizza," said Sirius, already moving on. "Lulu, can you tell Twiggie to order a—"

Upstairs, a door slammed.

Lily sprang to her feet. Petunia, she thought optimistically, because it was the lesser of many evils. Petunia's had it and she's running away. Her next thought, as she gestured "stay here, be quiet" to the Marauders and tiptoed to the stairs, was: The fans. They've figured out how to pick the lock and they're descending on us. Oh, lord have mercy.

Which was why she was totally unprepared when, halfway up the stairs, she heard her father's voice.

"—don't care about my blood pressure, Teresa, I'm not going to calm— LILY! PETUNIA!"

Shit.

Lily took the last of the stairs in fours and pushed the basement door shut with her foot. Bob was already in the kitchen by the time she got there, wearing his swim trunks and missing one sandal. There was sunscreen smeared on one half of his face as if he'd stopped halfway through applying it. Teresa was panting in the hallway, discarding duffel bags and coolers. At the bottom of the other staircase, Petunia was a statue.

"Dad," Lily choked. "Mum. What are you—"

Then she saw the stack of magazines in Bob's trembling hands.

"Where is he? What's he done to you? Why are they saying these things? WHERE IS HE?"

For some reason, the only response she could muster was to look at Petunia. Her sister's face was as cold as ever but just as stunned as Lily's. Lily wouldn't get any help from her, but if she had any suspicion that Petunia had been the one to call them home, at least she knew she could quash it.

Her lack of answer didn't sit well with Bob, who dropped the magazines into Lily's hands as he blazed past her into the basement. She couldn't think how to stop him, and found herself staring blankly at the various tabloids. "MYSTERY MARAUDERETTE: why the boys really went AWOL." "PREGNANT AND SCARED: inside last night's secret A and E trip." Pregnant? The bile in Lily's throat threatened to bubble out in an incredulous laugh.

"Lily, honey." Teresa was in the kitchen now, rubbing Lily's arm. "I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him. I know it must be some mistake. He saw the magazines at the tackle shop and had his foot on the accelerator before I could pack properly. Heavens, I'm not sure I even locked up the cottage..."

"WHY ARE THEY WEARING MY CLOTHES?"

Teresa's fingers tightened on Lily's arm. "They're here?" She looked frantically between her daughters.

"Yes." Lily swallowed. "Yes, they're here. But I promise it's not all true—"

"Just most of it," said Petunia dully.

Lily shot her a look. She deserved it, to be sure, but the betrayal was as ill-timed as Sirius' jokes.

"Lily Marie and Petunia Gladys. You are going to be doing a lot of explaining."

"I can explain," Lily insisted, but her mouth betrayed her and went bone-dry.

There was a scuffle behind her and Peter emerged from the stairwell, stumbling into the counter with an "oof." Sirius, Remus, and James followed close behind, seemingly shepherded out of the basement by a red-faced Bob, whose sunscreen half-mask was becoming patchy with sweat. James was shirtless—the Griffins tee crumpled up in Bob's fist—and received the most brutal shove into the kitchen.

"I want them out," Bob declared. "Right now, end of story. I don't want you bunch of dinglebats turning up round here again, you hear? Right. That'll be the end of it."

"Dad, wait!" Lily managed to get out as the Marauders shuffled submissively toward the door. "There are paparazzi out there, and fans! They'll be discovered."

"Serves 'em right," growled Bob.

"Actually," Petunia chimed in, "they've gone home. I've been watching."

"Petunia!" Lily exclaimed. Why aren't you helping me? Do you want them to be sent away? Maybe she did, Lily realized. She looked around at her family: baffled Teresa, fuming Bob, and icy Petunia. Finally she looked at James, who was smiling sadly at her, helpless and defeated. It wasn't fair. But there wasn't anything they could do.

"Dad, at least listen to me," Lily said meekly. "I can explain everything. They're on the run—"

"Is that what they've told you? They're some kind of outlaws, some John Wayne types need shelter for the night, hmm? Rubbish. It's all rubbish."

Lily knew then that there was no convincing him. She could only watch stupidly as he all but chucked the Marauders out the front door by the scruffs of their necks.

When the door had closed and the confused, shuffling footsteps had abated, the Evanses were silent. Bob had his hands on his hips and was looking at the ground, twitching periodically. Petunia gave a tiny sniff, but there was nothing else to indicate that she had witnessed the utter destruction of their summer's work. Teresa was looking at Lily. Lily was looking at the door.

"Dad," she finally said, and her voice broke on the word. "Do you actually think I'm that stupid?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer, though, only shouldered Petunia roughly out of the way as she traipsed upstairs. She wanted to be immature—slam her bedroom door and yell something hurtful at her parents—but she realized that the Marauders' departure had taken it all out of her and left her a rational adult. So she closed the door in a perfectly civilized manner and went straight for the window, scanning the street for any sign of them: James' crowsnest hair, Sirius' wild gestures, Remus' slouched shoulders, or Peter's stupid gait. There wasn't a hint of Marauder anywhere on Privet Drive, and it made Lily's heart sink.

She thought back to the beginning of this mess, when she'd been the one to send them packing while Petunia pined and mourned. Had that really been only two weeks ago? She thought how ridiculous it was that she'd ended up here: the Marauders' #1 supporter, surrounded by people who just didn't understand.

This is what it's like to be Petunia, she realized.

No wonder her parents were confused.

Perhaps in a nostalgic effort to recapture her old self, Lily decided to suck it up and go downstairs. She tried to picture the way she'd been when her parents had left, and how she would explain things to the Lily of two weeks ago if she travelled back in time. Ha, she thought, wincing at the idea of being slapped in the face by herself.

Sadly, her grand explanation never got off the ground; the first person she came across was Teresa, looking frazzled in the living room. Lily's heart dropped when she took in the state of the room: DDR mats and greasy Playstation controllers, popcorn kernels, a dirty sock, and — James' guitar. She looked away quickly.

"Heavens, Lily!" Teresa said. "Do I even want to look in the basement? The bathrooms? Oh god, the bathrooms…"

"Mum, relax," said Lily. "They didn't, like, block up the toilet with syringes or anything." Teresa's face suggested that they very well could have.

"Just the thought of it…" Teresa shook her head, looking positively nauseous. "Four boys off the street squatting in our home, eating our food, wearing your father's clothes..."

"They're not street rats."

"That would say otherwise," said Teresa, pointing at a wheat thin ground into the carpet. Sirius, Lily thought with a surge of annoyance, already planning her tirade. When it hit her that she probably wouldn't see him to deliver it, annoyance melted into a sad fondness.

So Lily spent her afternoon vacuuming upholstery, wiping TV remotes with Lysol, and clearing away any suggestion that anyone had lived here at all, Marauder or otherwise. The more she cleaned, the more she could convince herself that the whole thing had been a hallucination — or that she had, in fact, been brainwashed like everyone seemed to think. For the first time in ages, she thought about school, her friends, and maybe heading out to a coffee shop. But whenever she saw James' guitar hidden away in her closet — she couldn't bring herself to dispose of it — the ordeal came crashing back, vividly complete, to the front of her mind.

Somehow, Petunia managed to avoid doing any cleaning. She stayed in her room with the door shut, blasting The Weird Sisters so loudly that Lily could hear it when she took out the garbage. She wasn't even surprised to see Vernon Dursley watching from his window across the street. He gave her an odd little wave, but she ignored him and went inside. More than once since the hospital scene, she and James had wondered if Vernon hadn't been involved in the anonymous tip. It would be the perfect way to get the Marauders away from his precious Petunia. He couldn't have known that she was already starting to forsake her boyband idols, and that bringing down the public eye would only upset her more.

Harry followed her through the door; he had burrs in his coat and seemed to have slunk round from the front of the house. Petunia was listening to Celestina Warbeck now, and as Lily moved about with broom and dustpan, Petunia switched to another band, another and another, almost in irritation (or perhaps to be irritating). Finally she settled on some indie album that Lily had never heard before, and that Petunia probably hadn't either.

It was Bob whom Lily most desperately wanted back on her side,, but it proved difficult to even cross paths with him. He stayed in his study until Lily offered to clean it, at which point he muttered a sullen "I s'pose" and escaped out the door to hide elsewhere. She hoped she might catch him at supper, and so was disappointed on many levels when there was no supper; no one seemed to be in the mood, and Teresa was too exasperated to try and prepare anything with dry rice and a mouldy turnip. As Lily sat in the kitchen eating peanut butter from the jar, she realized that she had no allies.

Whatever had happened in the last two weeks, she couldn't make anyone understand with words. Her parents were too flummoxed to even interact with her; as far as they knew, they'd come home to a different daughter. They would have had to be there through the whole thing to have any inclination to get on board with her. The thing was, she felt as if she'd handed in a school project half-finished. With or without backup, she knew she would end up going after them.

There was one person who'd been there through the whole thing.

Reluctantly, Lily put the jar back on the peanut butter and steeled herself for a confrontation with Petunia.

Petunia had three hundred and ninety-four messages on her phone.

Undoubtedly, the majority were from her group chat with Fliss and the rest of the Quartet. Her finger hovered over the notification icon, breath tight in her throat. She'd been avoiding them all afternoon.

The trouble was that Petunia had no inclination at all to share the details of her summer with her friends. But if she didn't answer their messages soon, she risked another intervention. She gazed mournfully past her pink lace curtains to the rain-speckled halo of the nearest street light, under which a black cat was pacing. Then, sighing, she opened WhatsApp.

It was worse than she'd expected. There were messages from people she hadn't spoken to since GCSE's—people she hadn't spoken to ever, even. She ignored the majority and opened her Quartet group chat. It took some scrolling to find the top of the current conversation thread.

Fliss (candy emoji)

PETTY

WHAT'S THIS ABOUT THE GINGE AND JAMES BLOODY POTTER

?

what are you playing at keeping this from us

Soapy (sea shell emoji)

i

just

? ? ?

! ! ! ! !

petty seriously what on earth is going on this is completely insane?

is she really dating him?

HAVE U MET HIM?!

my brain is falling apart?!

Gem-Gem (nail-painting emoji)

WTF SPILLLLLLL

The conversation comprised several hundred similar text bubbles that Petunia couldn't be bothered to read. She scrolled furiously to the latest, which was just a string of angry megaphone emojis and exclamation marks from Gemma.

Feeling odd and detached, Petunia scanned the text several times.

Then she sent back the poo emoji.

Nothing mattered anymore.

With a leaden stomach, she switched off her phone and tossed it into the pile of shredded posters that was looking more like bonfire fuel by the hour. She hated the fact that a day spent avoiding Lily had meant a day seeing her name on every corner of the internet. Between articles, tumblr posts and twitter trends, there was just no escaping her. It made Petunia want to scream.

Lily never had to try; that was the problem. She was naturally pretty, naturally clever, naturally able to seduce the one and only James Potter without so much as lifting a finger. Naturally. Everyone loved quirky Lily, with her Greenpeace bracelets and her acerbic humour; her rosy, freckled complexion that always burned a little in summer but never saw a hint of foundation. Yes, Lily was just so wonderful. So perfect.

Petunia, ironically, spent ninety-five percent of her life chasing perfection: making lists, circling dates on calendars, counting calories. She could try and try and try, but Lily always came out ahead without even meaning to. Lily could bum around in the same two outfits all summer, devour gross food without a care in the world, never say a kind word to anyone, and still be adored. She projected a natural likeableness that Petunia, in all her years of perfection-chasing, had never been able to emulate.

In fact, the only person in known history to choose Petunia over Lily was Vernon Dursley, who for some godforsaken reason had remained unswayed ever since deciding over play-dough and hopscotch that he was going to make her his wife.

More than ever, Petunia wasn't sure how she felt about that; in fact, a sickening realization was dawning.

I am James Potter's Vernon.

"Petunia...?" There was a knock at the door. Lily poked her head in.

Lovely.

"Can we talk?"

Petunia didn't grace this stupid question with an answer—just turned so she was staring out the window again and curled her toes into the carpet.

"...Please, Petunia."

"Go away."

There was silence for a second, but apparently Lily wasn't going to make this easy. "I—I can't. Listen, I know you hate me right now, but we need to do something about this and I don't see any other way unless we—"

"We don't need to do anything," Petunia snapped, turning around.

Lily stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her grey jumper. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're allowed to be upset, Petunia, believe me, I know. But like, all that aside... we sort of do."

Fighting tears, Petunia shook her head. "They've gone."

"Well yes, but they can't have gone far. We can still—"

"What, concoct another plan? Another ridiculous spy mission?" Petunia blinked a million times, angry at her tear ducts for betraying her. "Let them go, Lily. They need to start figuring things out for real."

Lily looked at Petunia as though she wasn't even sure who she was talking to. "If we're just going to let them go, then—then what was the point?"

"The point of what?"

An incredulous laugh. "Of any of it! Of keeping them here all summer... wasting our time... driving all the way to Knockturn and breaking into a police station—"

"I don't know, Lily, what was the point?"

Lily had no words; when her mouth faltered, she just shook her head.

"What did you expect we were going to do? Take down Val? Put him in prison?" Petunia made mocking jazz hands and then dropped them, stony-faced. "This is real life, okay? That stuff doesn't happen."

In the beat of silence that followed, wind whistled against the windows. Lily's voice came out too low when she finally spoke. "Yeah, well, you know what else doesn't happen in real life, Petunia? A famous fucking boy band appearing in your backyard. But what do you know! It happened!" She had a point. "We owe it to them to try, at least."

"We don't owe them anything," Petunia said to the wall.

"Why are you doing this?" Mid-frustrated-gesture, Lily clipped her elbow on the door. "I'm sorry, Petunia, all right? I kissed James and I'm sorry! It was shit of me. I'll make it up to you somehow, I swear, but I really, really need you on my side right now."

Petunia didn't want to blink, so she let the world mash into a blur of watery magenta. It was so like Lily to brush away her own mistakes in that brisk, impatient tone. She always seemed to think you could sweep things under the rug with a mindless apology or two. "You promised," Petunia half-whispered.

Lily looked remorseful as she rubbed her elbow. "I know. I... know. That was bad judgement on my part."

"I just can't believe..." Petunia couldn't finish, shaking her head as the tears finally boiled over. "You know what? Just go. Go and find him and live happily ever after or whatever. I don't even care anymore."

"Would you stop making this about him?"

"It is about him! As if you'd be half as invested in the DeMort rubbish if you weren't secretly snogging—"

"In case you've forgotten, I was the one who was most invested from the start! Back before I even fancied him at all—"

Petunia cut her off with a scoff. "Go, Lily! I'm serious. Go chase after them. I'm not about to stop you."

"I would," Lily seethed, "but unfortunately I can't actually do anything without your help."

"That's quite rich."

"What?"

"Oh, go on, don't play dumb. You've been excluding me all summer."

"What?!"

"Excluding me. All summer," Petunia repeated, a nasty edge to the words. "You haven't once needed my help. Don't start now."

"This is insane," Lily said, almost laughing, threading her hands through her hair. "This is actually insane. Petunia! Do we not remember the start of all this? Who was the one cosying it up with them in the barn while I slaved over all the cooking and cleaning?"

"That was different! You didn't want to join us!"

"How do you know that!"

Petunia just stared at her incredulously.

Blinking away tears, Lily readjusted her stance. "Mum and Dad won't even give me a chance to explain. They're not going to understand unless it's coming from both of us." A slight hesitation. "And, like... I'm sorry to play this card, but you sort of owe me."

"Excuse me?"

"I did the same for you, remember? I pretended to be sick when you asked."

And look how that's worked out for us, Petunia was tempted to snap. She knew manipulating Lily that day hadn't been her kindest moment. In fact, half the summer's heartbreak could probably be attributed to karmic payback. "Even if I were to help," she said coolly, "you don't know where they've gone."

"Right, but I was thinking..." Lily scratched her ankle with her toe, "Vern probably has all of Privet Drive on like, twenty-four-hour surveillance or something, right?"

Petunia shrugged, cringing a little. The last thing she needed was a reminder that she and Vernon Dursley were just two peas in the world's most cripplingly pathetic pod. "Let me get this straight," she said, "you want to use me to convince Mum and Dad, and then you want to use me again to get what you need from Vern."

"No." Lily couldn't seem to control her annoyance as she elaborated, "I want your help to deal with this mess we've both been dragged into."

"That's just it," Petunia said, pushing her clenched fists down by her sides. "I've not been dragged into it, have I? I don't even know half of what you and James found in Knockturn because nobody tells me anything and now you just expect me to jump right back in and—No." She shook her head. "No, I will not. It's not our fault they got themselves into this trouble with DeMort. They don't need our help."

"We still have the file, though! I have James' guitar in my closet. They've literally been chucked out onto the street with nothing... How is this not getting through to you?"

Petunia brushed tears away with the palm of her hand. "Because—because for all that you're saying these things, it's obvious you only want to see... him again."

Lily actually laughed this time. "I want to see them all again, Petunia. So we can give them their things and have a proper goodbye at the very least. Is that really too much to ask?"

Petunia weighed her options. Lily was being entitled and selfish and she'd broken the most important promise she'd ever made. Worse, James was a disappointing git. But was it really fair to take that out on all four boys? She looked out the rain-drowned window and felt something uncomfortable curdle in her abdomen.

To give herself more thinking time, she walked over to her dresser and removed her earrings. The carpeted floor made unpleasant creaking sounds under her feet. "What was wrong with Remus?" she asked as she set the drop-shaped Swarovskis in her jewellery box.

Lily was looking at her as though she was insane. "Pardon?"

"Remus," Petunia repeated, spelling it out flatly. "What was wrong with him? Why did you go to A and E yesterday?"

Lily opened her mouth and closed it again, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her hand drifted up to brush more wetness out of her eyelashes. "He has diabetes," she said at last.

"I see..." Petunia walked over to the window, still stalling. Thinking. She reached up to clutch her heart locket. "And I suppose he confided in you because you're just his dearest and most trusted friend."

"If you must know, no. I accidentally walked in on him injecting insulin one night."

"Really?" Petunia's reflection in the dark window raised its eyebrows.

"Really."

Petunia sniffed and turned around. She wasn't sure what made her say the next words, but they were out before she could stop them. "Did you know that Black's parents are friends with DeMort?"

"Er, yeah, actually—I mean, I don't know the details." Somewhat frantically, Lily scratched her elbow. "Just the basics. Sirius definitely hasn't told me anything."

A small victory, but Petunia would take it. Her mind lingered briefly on Black's turmoil from that night in the garden, his feet pushing down on flowers as he shared his insecurities. It had been so unexpectedly genuine. Suddenly, the thought of never seeing the Marauders again—or worse, seeing them as awful headlines in the papers—crushed her stomach. Lily, loathe as she was to admit it, was right. This was bigger than James.

"Sirius never tells me anything, you know," Lily added. "I saw that video of you two from Quidditch night. I know you're closer to him than you let on."

Petunia's heart did a weird, frightened flail. "He hates me," she said.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Well, I hate him."

"That I'm even less sure of. Besides, I don't know what you're talking about with this exclusion stuff. You and Sirius are always off playing DDR or whatever. Even Peter admitted he fancies you."

Petunia couldn't help but snort as she wiped away the last of her tears. "Whoop-de-doo..." she said without enthusiasm. She knew Lily was only saying these things to butter her up, but... it was working a little.

"Seriously, think about it: half the Marauders have a thing for you. That's more than probably anyone else in the world can say."

"Peter Pettigrew is not half the Marauders!" Petunia said, horrified. "Unless... well, maybe proportionally by combined weight..."

Unexpectedly, Lily's face shifted and she hiccuped a small laugh. "That's horrible! I was including Sirius."

Petunia blinked. "That's horrible."

"Hmm," was all Lily said.

Petunia looked out the window. She tried to follow the rain's streaking path down the glass, but it was moving too quickly; everything blurred together. "You know what?" she said after a long, defeated pause, "...Fine."

It took a second for Lily to react. "Are you—Really?"

"I'll help you make the case to Mum and Dad," Petunia clarified. "But then you're on your own."

Lily's brow crinkled. "I suppose that's fair. Are you sure you don't want to see them one last time, though?"

"I'm sure." For some reason, Petunia felt like crying again. "Just tell me what you need me to say, please, and let's get this over with."

A/N: As per usual, we have nothing to say for ourselves. So we've enlisted the help of our intern, Dewey the cat.

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(Inspiring, innit?)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(Seven Scribbles)