A/N I've been posting this rewritten version on ff.net and unknowableroom.org for a while, and suddenly remembered this old PK account. I'm sorry to all of you who are waiting for the last chapter-it won't come! I'll finish this version instead, which I hope you'll enjoy.
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Hopelessly Addicted
Chapter 1
"Mad World"
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All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses-no expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow-no tomorrow, no tomorrow…
Gary Jules, "Mad World"
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Five fifty-nine.
Five fifty-nine and fifteen seconds.
Five fifty-nine and thirty seconds.
Five fifty-nine and forty-five seconds.
Six o'clock.
The alarm clock started ringing loudly.
Lily's arm instantly went up to turn off the annoying chime. She'd been expecting it, of course; six years of waking up early every morning had trained her subconscious well. She had already been half-awake, in a dreamlike state of sorts, when the clock had struck 6 AM.
In one fluid motion, she got up and reached for her clothes. They were neatly folded on the armchair: there was never any rush to go to bed when she slept over at her boyfriend Alain's apartment. Naturally, it went without saying that she hardly ever left behind personal objects. Valerie often joked that Lily was planning to disappear from his life one day, and would leave no traces of her existence.
It wasn't that; or rather, it wasn't only that. Alain had never given her reason to believe that he could one day forget her. Could he? The answer was obvious to her, as shocking as that thought was. It didn't seem likely that the man could leave her, but she knew well enough to expect such possibilities.
"Get up," she croaked, not looking at Alain, but knowing better than to assume he would hear. Lily's voice was the only part of her-other than the cranky, slow eyes-that gave away that she was not, in fact, a morning person. To be honest, she had always abhorred waking up early. That was probably why she'd chosen a profession that demanded so much self-discipline: she loved pushing her own limits.
Such habits were inevitable once one attained a position of certain responsibility. Chief Evans this, Chief Evans that-did you notice she came in ten minutes later today?
Oh, she loathed those sickening sycophants at times! They flattered her ego whenever they could, and criticised her the moment her perfect façade slipped. Lily didn't mind it that much anymore. Maintaining a strict appearance was a skill she had honed over the years.
In the end, there was nothing truly remarkable about her. Some genius, perhaps, mostly related to strategy, her specialty, but, even then, her reasoning often proved to be flawed. Fortunately, she usually caught big mistakes in time. Still, Lily was far too impulsive, exceedingly unworthy of everyone's admiration. She was aware of it, and she alone. Pretending was probably her greatest quality.
"Get up!" Lily tried again, a little louder this time. A fleeting jealousy contaminated her typically blank, somewhat aloof glare. Alain always slept in; everyone forgave his tardiness.
Lily hated this city-its endless little streets and decrepit buildings, its maddening stench, its old air, history, obsession, its November, its cafés, smoke, music, and generally its life. Everything was divided, manichaeist, right or wrong, futuristic or archaic. One was loved, and, suddenly, a walking faux pas. Polite replies became glacial-welcoming benevolence took on distant arrogance.
Lily was generalising, and she knew it. It didn't matter; she did that a lot, perhaps a bit too often. In some level, she had always strived to feel distant from everyone, and, as such, she was very much capable of judging them.
She cast one last look around the room, out of sheer habit. Alain's apartment was nice, but a bit too artsy for her liking. It was too posh, perhaps, and it gave away its owner's richness far too much. Yes, that was it: the lamp near his bed-Merlin, that lamp!-displayed its price tag far too aggressively. But maybe, just maybe, Lily was far too picky. Perhaps Alain was as perfect as everyone thought him to be, as his ancestry was, as his elegant apartment was-as perfect as Lily herself was imperfect.
Suddenly, Lily had had enough, and Apparated home. The familiar pastel tones made her smile. An occasional colourful detail (orange, red, even green) offered helpful insights regarding her personality (except for the green, the damned, heinous vase Julia had given her). This décor certainly pleased her, she thought with a smile. But then again, it was her place. Why couldn't Alain understand that she'd never give up this freedom to be with him? She didn't want a monotonous life.
And yet that was precisely where her current actions would lead. Lily could imagine herself fluttering around at social events, becoming the respectable Mme Delacour-cherished, envied, admired, and miserable. The thought was less than impressive, and nowhere in the vicinity of comforting, but it seemed inevitable anyway.
Well, she had a lot of work to do before going to the office; as usual, the week already seemed far too short for all she had to do. It was Monday, and Lily loved Mondays for all their potential and dreaded significance. She hurried to her office and grabbed some scenarios. There was no way she could finish them all in time, but she would have to try.
Lily undressed, and turned on the shower. Soap, shampoo-that terribly sweet, sickening smell of honey reminded her of something-what? Bubbles were forming, pearly beige against her white, freckled skin. The sponge was harsh, and it made her skin red and raw. As usual, she paid no attention to it because she was far too busy planning this new day.
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The glove compartment isn't accurately named, and everybody knows it
So I'm proposing a swift, orderly change
'Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm
And all I find are souvenirs from better times…
Death Cab for Cutie, "Title and Registration"
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Who needed towels? They were a waste of space and a waste of time. Lily dried herself with a spell and arranged her hair with another one. It was then time for shoes and clothes-dressing always took some time. Perhaps a talking closet would be of use, she mused, browsing through her black pants section.
Her mind unexpectedly jerked back to her Hogwarts room. She'd hated that stupid mirror of hers, with its annoying perceptiveness and absurd logic. In fact, she disliked talking magical objects in general. They could never be trusted. Lily glanced at her ordinary mirror: would those black shoes look strange with a long skirt?
Hogwarts... Lily shook her head. She never wanted to see the castle again. It would bring back awful memories, precisely those running through her brain right now.
James Potter-all her traumas were connected to that one name. Hmm, maybe she could wear the blue twin set. How could someone destroy a person's life so effectively? He had; even now, remembering his betrayal, she still felt a surge of sadness. The painful misery had faded years ago, but she would never forget it.
How could she? He had, after all, been the one reason for her departure from Britain. She would never work in London, not when he would be less then ten miles away. That's why she had started Healer training right after Hogwarts, delaying her career as an Auror. There hadn't been the slightest doubt in Lily's mind: she never wanted to see him again.
Lily was ready. It was six-forty: she would get started on work, run out for a cup of coffee-of course it was impossible to get proper tea in Paris; she'd given up months ago-but… Oh, no, she was going to London today! She'd nearly forgotten. Well, her workday would be immensely shorter! Damn it.
Why were they calling her anyway? She would get a job offer, in all likelihood. Would they simply order her home (she was "borrowed" by the French Ministry, after all) and place her on some bad team? Lily smiled, absent-mindedly examining a mission scenario. If their reputation was anything to go by, there were no such things as ''bad British Aurors." They were less intuitive than the French, but more than Americans-the best in the world.
Did Lily belong there, with them? Technically, her current position-Head of Strategy-had been approved by London. She was their employee and, should she ever return home, that would be her post. Would she be worthy of it among them?
Lily pushed that thought away while the scenario before her revealed itself in its entirety. It was her favourite part of the job: her brain worked automatically as she weighted possibilities, examined courses of action and foresaw reactions. The circumstances were all there, just waiting to be orchestrated. She knew the answer to this, exactly what to do.
Suddenly, Lily realised that she was late. After throwing everything inside her purse in a hurry (most things seldom found their way out), she left the house.
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It's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Trying to make ends meet, you're a slave to the money, then you die
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
You know, the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet…
The Verve, "Bittersweet Symphony"
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The weather was as dull as Lily had expected, with a chilling breeze to boot. She often preferred extreme climatic expressions: thunderstorms, heat waves, or heavy snow. Methodical as she was, Lily thrived on unpredictability.
Would it be good to go back to England, despite everything? Lily remembered well how difficult it had been to fit in at the French Ministry at first. In time, she'd found her niche. After two years, she pondered detachedly, it was only natural that London had decided to call her back home. That certainly didn't mean she liked the idea of leaving yet another life behind.
She bought a sandwich from a nearby corner shop and hurried to work, still thinking about London, its terrible climate, and its infuriating people… she missed them! How would it feel to see her friends again? Julia had come to Paris not too long ago, but they hadn't kept in touch. Leylann, too, had disappeared-she was presumably still working at St. Mungo's. Nothing had changed, perhaps, or everyone could be completely different.
"Is it today?"
She turned to look at Valerie, who had sped up to walk beside Lily. Her current closest friend was also an Auror, and also walked to work every morning. In fact, that strange habit was one of the few things the two women had in common.
"Yeah. Someone's coming over to pick me up soon."
"What, don't you remember where the London Ministry is?"
Lily smiled. "I have a bad memory at times, Valerie, but I'm not that terrible."
"Ah. All right. That's good."
Valerie seemed troubled, Lily realised after glancing at her face. The girl was not hard to read-which was, of course, a definite disadvantage when one worked in the deception and secrecy business. That was probably one of the reasons that she'd never achieved an important promotion.
"What's wrong?"
She frowned. "I broke up with Charles last night-for real. It's definite now."
Lily raised a sceptic eyebrow. "You said that last time, too."
"It's not that I don't love him-"
"I know. But you need to make a choice, Valerie, and stand by it. If the fact that he doesn't want a serious commitment bothers you as much as you say it does, then stop going back to him every time he beckons you!"
"You say that every time," Valerie complained, clearly in a terrible mood. "Can't you understand that it's hard? He's a great guy!"
"I can, of course. Have you forgotten that whole business with Benjamin Fenwick?"
"That was different."
Lily shrugged. "I have nothing against Charles, and you know that. I just hate to see you going through break-ups with him all the time."
"I annoy you, don't I?" Valerie asked, looking away. "You think I'm too immature to handle this."
"No! No, Val, come on-you know that's not true."
Lily could feel the stubbornness taking a hold of her friend: Valerie would not change her point of view any time soon. It was useless to pursue the point any further. A change of subject was necessary; they would have other opportunities to discuss the situation.
"So… Do you think Caroline's really pregnant?"
"Who knows?" Valerie snapped.
Lily sighed-it was better to back off now. They walked the short distance to the Ministry of Magic in silence. One more time, Lily thought about just how little she'd miss her Parisian life if she moved to London. It seemed strange, almost cruel, but not to anyone who knew her.
The truth of the matter was that Lily was bored. The feeling was dangerous: she had become restless, inventive, and impulsive. Several people-especially James Potter himself-could testify as to just how perilous that state of mind was.
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You're on the road, but you've got no destination
You're in the mud, in the maze of her imagination
You love this town, even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over, and it's been all over you
It's a beautiful day; don't let it get away…
U2, "Beautiful Day"
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The old building that hosted the French Ministry was a stereotypical haunted house. Its very structure was obviously unstable. All doors creaked ominously, and the sun always found a way to hide when one approached the entrance. The few wooden steps leading up to it had been about to disintegrate for the last five decades. Lopsided signs indicated the dangers of entering the place, which of course meant that rogue children and teenagers, routinely visited.
No one knew for sure why the city government hadn't bothered to demolish the house, but some highly placed wizard was presumably in charge of keeping Muggles in the dark. Everyone was a little paranoid about anti-Muggle security in Paris. The wizarding community there had a long and unpleasant history of small incidents related to local alternative cuisine and the subway network, dutifully forgotten by everyone involved.
After the apparent miracle of reaching the doorway without incident, the two Aurors entered. The squeaking noises they made were softer than usual, and Lily made a mental note to warn someone about it. Out of mere habit, they examined the room with disinterest. There were some broken pieces of furniture lying around, and obvious signs of many struggles. Rags of what had once been plush wine-coloured curtains surrounded the upper side of two window frames. Trash had been dumped somewhere, and an almost unbearable stench filled the air. No one could possibly live here. This was, of course, the best workplace for which a wizard could hope.
Valerie placed the tip of her wand on the doorknob behind them and waited for clearance. All of a sudden, the room changed. The two Aurors were now facing the two witches who directed all visitors to the department they were searching. Naturally, there wasn't much going on this early in the morning, and one of them was chatting with the Aurors on guard duty.
"I'll see you later," Valerie said briskly, striding towards the elevator. Lily stayed behind, having spotted a few of her teammates in the entrance hall.
Guard duty was a boring task that all Aurors dreaded. Their main function was simply to stare down at all newcomers with remarkably nasty glares. Lily didn't know most of them very well, but that mattered little. Their demeanour became superficially friendlier-but without a doubt more alert-when the Chief Auror approached the group.
"Good morning," she greeted politely. "Who's in charge today?"
William, one of hers, raised his hand.
Lily frowned. "I need to talk to you, and everyone else on my team. I'm leaving soon."
"I'll have someone replace us for a few minutes; it won't be a problem. By the way, the London man's already arrived."
She checked her watch. "There's time. Gather everyone in your office, will you? I have to hand in some papers before leaving, too."
He nodded, and walked a few steps closer to the Chief Auror. "Er, Lily," William switched to English-he, too, was British-in a low tone, "I would advise against leaving him alone in your office for much longer. The guy's all right and very likeable, but he seems to be the kind who enjoys a practical joke far too much for his own good."
Lily grinned. "What's he done so far?"
"He pretended to be a Muggle, who had entered here by mistake," William sighed. "That gave us all a bit of a fright, as you can imagine."
"I see. Did he happen to mention his name?"
"Yeah. Black, I believe. Sirius Black."
She smirked. "Naturally."
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Many times I've been alone; many times I've cried
Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried
But still they lead me back to the long, winding road
You left me standing here a long, long time ago…
The Beatles, "The Long and Winding Road"
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Lily took a deep breath before entering her office. Everything was arranged: she was ready to leave. Suddenly, the idea of meeting her old friend seemed frightening, as if the very sight of Sirius Black would be enough to bring all her past troubles back into her life.
No, she scolded herself firmly. Those people had known a different Lily-she had grown since then. Nothing extraordinary would happen.
She opened the door, and had a few seconds to examine Sirius' profile before he turned to look at her. Some things never changed: he was still impossibly handsome. Lily had never given the subject due consideration-she had been his best friend's girlfriend, after all-, but now it hit her with full force.
Sirius had the sort of roguish, untamed charm that Remus and James, good-looking as they both were, could only achieve with the use of a Polyjuice Potion. He provoked a tickling, pleasant yearning that no woman could resist. She vaguely wondered if they all felt reticent and silly around him, and if they couldn't help but grin when he granted them his undivided attention for a fleeting moment.
He turned to greet her, and Lily snapped out of the weird trance. She reminded herself that this was Sirius-arrogant, irresponsible Sirius, who could be utterly obnoxious at times… He was Sirius Black, James Potter's best friend. She liked him despite everything, simply because it was difficult not to, but it wasn't hard to recall his many flaws.
"Nice office," he remarked casually, ignoring the many years that had passed since they'd last spoken.
"Thank you." She walked to her desk and sat down, not quite knowing what to say. They weren't late yet, and some mandatory catching-up obviously had to happen at some point, but there wasn't much about her current life she was anxious to share with him. "How's everything?" she asked, rather lamely. It seemed like a good idea to keep him talking.
"Everything's brilliant! Prongs thinks he's just grabbed enough evidence to frame Lucius Malfoy, so everyone's excited about that." Sirius suddenly remembered who he was talking to-well, maybe he'd mentioned James intentionally-, and observed her reaction. There was none; he continued, "Work's been… Well, Voldemort's still around, obviously, so we're not all that efficient."
Lily was surprised. Working had never been first among Sirius' priorities, as far as she knew. Back at Hogwarts, he wouldn't have dreamt of mentioning schoolwork when asked about his life: he, too, had changed.
"Any girlfriends?"
He smiled with boyish smugness, and, for a moment, became that same old Marauder she'd known so well. "Well, there's always a girl here and there, but… Actually, I'm sort of seeing Leylann again-who was, by the way, thrilled to hear that I was meeting you today."
Lily nodded. That didn't surprise her. Sirius and Leylann had been 'sort of' seeing each other for many years now.
"How are the others?"
"Remus is great. Well, not all that great, considering tomorrow's the full moon, but yeah. Peter's also fine. Dumbledore got him a position at the Ministry's Magical Maintenance office, but he hasn't quite gotten the hang of weather spells yet."
"I see." Lily knew Sirius was expecting her to ask about the fourth Marauder. She was certain that her reaction would define his opinion of who she had become over the last couple of years. "What about James?" she asked with what she hoped would be perceived as distant politeness.
"He's pretty well, too-oh, and working more than all of us put together. He got promoted, you know," Sirius said, grinning. "James is a Chief Auror, just like you, with his own team and everything."
She smiled thinly. "How insane do they have to be to give him a team?"
Sirius shook his head. "You know how he can be when he's devoted to something. It's like… he's found a cause. It's almost scary-he hardly ever enjoys an off-duty moment nowadays."
"That doesn't sound like him."
"I know! But really, you won't recognise him."
"I seriously doubt that," she rolled her eyes. "But it's true, you know. At the end of the day, this isn't a mere job."
"So you lot keep telling me. Whatever, it's useless to worry so much about things you obviously can't change. Relaxing is important sometimes, you know. And, let me tell you, I'm the last guy you'd call sensible, but even I sleep a few hours every night."
She shrugged. Sirius seemed to have forgotten that he was not, in fact, talking to James. Lily did get enough sleep, of course; she just happened to need less of it than most people.
"Anyway-"
"We should get going," she checked her watch. "We're late."
Sirius gave her a look. "What, you're actually punctual now? My, my." He laughed. "Things have changed."
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Consider this the hint of the century
Consider this the slip that brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come flailing around? Now I've said too much…
I thought that I heard you laughing; I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try…
R.E.M., "Losing My Religion"
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Lily's calculating eyes didn't betray the attention with which she observed the elevator. Busy executives, mindless of everyone carrying out the same routine, left when the chime announced each floor. She observed the others, awed at how clever it was to install an Auror outpost in a place like this.
The practical aspects seemed challenging, if not foolhardy. How ridiculously difficult had it been to teach all the wizards and witches to behave, on a daily basis, in a way Muggles would deem "normal?" Naturally, they could easily Apparate to work, but, in that case, it would be hard to keep any pretence of normality regarding the occupied floor.
Twentieth floor, twenty-first-a couple left, and there was only one other woman in the elevator. She looked vaguely familiar; they glanced at each other, and their gazes locked. Yes, Lily concluded at once, this girl was definitely a witch. It was impossible to explain why she knew it. It was a feeling, a strange familiarity, as if their magical powers acknowledged one another. They were tensely silent, wondering whether the other was friendly or not.
Lily pondered her options. Little detection spells were useless against dark wizards of some power, of course. Suspicion was an instinct as involuntary as breathing once one had been an Auror for some time.
The two witches were silent for several seconds. No one had pressed the button for the twenty-second flood, Lily knew, but the doors slid open anyway, giving her one last chance to leave. She braced herself for the hostile reaction that was bound to follow. It was likely that they were both Aurors, but neither wanted to get caught off guard.
A soft chime merrily announced that they had finally arrived at the twenty-third floor. Lily confidently strode to the office door, and stopped abruptly, feeling the cold rush of a pointed wand behind her neck. Taking a deep breath, she turned.
"Who are you?"
Until now, Lily had merely observed the girl's demeanour. Now, she examined her appearance: black hair, small brown eyes, fair skin, and sharp, classical taste… Yes, she seemed familiar, but no precise identity came to mind.
"Lily Evans," she replied, slowly raising her left hand as a sign of good faith-the other one was still in her pocket, clutching her wand out of more than sheer habit.
The woman seemed sceptical. "Lily Evans? That crazy strategist who quit the Ministry a few years ago?"
Lily smiled wryly. "It's good to know I'm remembered so fondly."
"There aren't that many Aurors," the girl shrugged. "We've all heard of one another, at some point, but not many people know you personally, I believe. All we have is that strategy collection of yours. It's quite good."
"Thank you."
"I'm Amelia Bones," she continued, holding out her hand, which Lily shook. Neither had let go of their wands, preferring to be overly prudent than to take risks. "We met at Hogwarts, and briefly, afterwards."
Amelia had a firm handshake: Lily's gut feeling indicated trustworthiness. Flashes of a scrawny, often enamoured teenager flooded Lily's mind at once-yes, they had met back at school.
"I remember… You were a few years older than me, I believe, and dated one of the Prewetts."
"Yes. I did." She didn't seem surprised. No reaction, friendly or otherwise, was apparent in her hard facial expression.
"Well, I'm here-the Minister believes I should work with this team, and I wanted to take a look around the office, meet everyone, and so on."
Amelia nodded. "We were expecting someone, but I received no names."
"Er, I wasn't told how to enter."
"Few people have access to that valuable piece of information. Wait a second."
She walked to a painting, and touched it lightly, tickling what looked like an orange. Another doorway revealed itself right beside the regular one.
"Each of us gets a key," Amelia explained, and smiled for the first time. "You seem like you won't have problems blending in with Muggles-that's good. The previous girl refused to go out in public without her hat, Marlene just prefers to Apparate… and, of course, we have Dorcas."
Lily raised an eyebrow. The uncommon name rang a distant bell, too. Her thoughts wandered to Hogwarts again, and she idly wondered how many wizards had sided with Albus Dumbledore in the past couple of years. Lily herself still corresponded with the aged Headmaster, and was informally a member of that Order of his. It was likely that he would ask her to take on active assignments, now that she lived in Britain again.
Amelia opened the door, and gestured for Lily to enter. It took the newcomer about two seconds to understand that strange comment about Dorcas. Her stunned gaze had no time to take in the office's almost metallic whiteness, frequently marred by soft lights and unsystematic contrasts (it would take some getting used to) before it rested on the bizarre figure standing there.
"Hello," the woman said brightly.
Every colour clashed: her red hair had touches of phoney pink colouring, and her clothes were a strange cross between Muggle-hippie-wannabe and shabby witch style. The ensemble wasn't altogether unpleasant to the open-minded eye-but, Merlin, the girl had very peculiar taste.
Dorcas smiled at once in a welcoming and friendly way. "You're the new girl, yeah? Nice to meet you. I'm Dorcas Meadowes."
Lily grinned. It struck her as odd that Dorcas was immediately willing to accept the new colleague. Well, there was an odd duck or two on every team, and this one certainly corresponded to the stereotype.
"I'm Lily Evans."
Dorcas nodded. "I know. An owl's just arrived, with your picture and everything. Come on, let me show you around." She turned to Amelia. "He wants to see you upstairs as soon as Fudge leaves."
Amelia frowned. The presence of the Junior Head of Magical Catastrophes could hardly be good news. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to her first." She gestured towards Lily. "I'll be in my office."
Dorcas was busy conjuring tea, and didn't indicate having heard. Amelia walked away nevertheless, casting a worried look in the direction of the staircase.
"This office is quite nice," Lily commented appreciatively, after realising that the apparently random splashes of paint and decorative items were, in fact, quite harmonic.
"I helped decorate it… as if you couldn't tell." Dorcas laughed, offering Lily a steaming mug. "I'm a bit of a do-it-all around here-not as highly specialised as the others, you see. We do mostly research and strategy, but I'm sure you already know that."
"Yeah, I -"
"Bloody hell!" a cry suddenly rang out in the quiet office. Alarmed, Dorcas quickly covered the short distance between the entrance and the larger contiguous room. There were several doors there, a short hallway and the staircase.
Dorcas' loose sandals clickety-clacked, and echoed; her short steps stopped in front of a closed door. Lily arrived in time to hear her knock.
"Wait!" hollered a voice from the other side. A strangled explosion followed shortly thereafter, and the door opened. A young woman sloppily dressed in wizard robes left, and glanced at Lily with interest, which turned into delight. "You're the one who's joining us?"
It took Lily only a moment to identify that grinning face. "Marlene… McKinnon!" she greeted, thankful that her brain had quickly learned to access her rusty Hogwarts acquaintances list.
"You gave me a detention," Marlene stated, with the standard pridecharacterising memorable immature feats, "for sending Severus Snape to the hospital wing for two weeks."
Lily laughed. "Itching Potion, wasn't it?"
Marlene nodded happily. "So! We are to be joined by Lily Evans, the Lily Evans, who had some promise, but preferred exile in the land of smelly cheese!"
"Hey, I did some serious work there-"
"Of course you did," Marlene conceded, "but you'll probably be more useful here, once you get back on track."
"So I've heard."
"Thank you again, Mr. Fudge," called out a familiar voice behind them. Lily would have recognised it in a split second, anywhere, any time. "I promise I'll have him get rid of the motorbike."
The Auror in command of the team casually strode down the stairs, and opened the door for Cornelius Fudge, who walked out and Disapparated. He then turned to face his team; despite many years' training, his gaze betrayed his shock when he saw his ex-girlfriend there.
"You?"
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Were you born to resist or be abused? Is someone getting the best of you?
Are you gone and on to someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head without your noose
You gave me something that I didn't have, but had no use
I was too weak to give in, too strong to lose…
Foo Fighters, "Best of You"
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Lily didn't quite know what to say. An annoyingly unanticipated mess of feelings swirled beneath her initial surprise. They couldn't expect her to work with James Potter, could they? Not with the one man who had been the reason for her departure in first place…
The truth was evident. Now that she paid attention to it, James' signature was all over the office, regardless of Dorcas' bizarre adjustments: the painting at the entrance, the delight of fooling hundreds of people every day by using magic right under their noses, and even the girls he'd picked for his team were exactly his type. It went without saying that he would never be involved with any of them, but there was no harm in flirting.
"You're the one they called to work with me…" James mused, apparently at a loss for words. He had always detested being caught unawares in serious, public situations.
"You didn't know, then," she deadpanned. "I suppose I can always undo this. I'll go to the Minister and-"
"Why?" he interrupted, probably in order to buy himself some time, trying to catch up with his own reasoning. She could almost see his brain working, measuring risks and choosing between different approaches: James, too, was a strategist.
Lily didn't know the answer to his question-or at least none that wouldn't be puerile. He was perfectly aware of that. "It would be strange," she attempted lamely.
She tried to imagine what was going on in his mind. Did he think he could handle her? Would he try to convince her? Granted, working here would be an interesting opportunity, but it wasn't worth the hassle of being around him all day.
"It would," he agreed slowly. "But you were sent here, and maybe-"
"-we should put our personal differences aside and work together?" Lily rolled her eyes. "You know as well as we do that interpersonal equilibrium in the teams is highly recommended."
"Yes, Lily, we've never worked well despite arguments and the like. Of course you're right," James sighed wearily. "Listen, I haven't given the matter a great deal of thought, but Dumbledore was the one who sent you here, wasn't he? I'd asked him to see if there was someone we could call."
She frowned. Well, the Minister of Magic had called her back, but the Hogwarts Headmaster's involvement was likely. She remembered his repeated requests well enough; in Dumbledore's opinion, Lily's skills were of more use in England, where Voldemort always struck the hardest.
Noticing that she had accepted the idea, James went on, "So, maybe-and this is just off the top of my head-you're actually supposed to be here. Maybe Dumbledore thinks-"
"If he wanted me to respect and follow his wishes, I would expect him to come and talk to me personally."
"Point taken."
Lily shifted her weight uneasily, anxious to leave. She was beginning to doubt her resolute and impulsive refusal; he seemed so unperturbed! Perhaps he honestly didn't care either way, and only had his team's best interests at heart. It seemed odd to Lily, who had known the teenage James Potter very well.
"We should give it a try. I need a strategist, and you are-"
She waved dismissively, foreseeing the flattery. "Spare me."
"There are no other teams-"
"I know!" Lily seemed impatient. It had been six years, she thought with some annoyance, but James was as predictable as ever. She was predisposed to argue and disagree with him, of course, but he didn't have to make a special effort just to exasperate her!
Why he wanted her as part of the team, she didn't know. Had James matured enough for her to consider working here? It didn't seem likely, and she wasn't willing to risk it.
"You need to return to England," he tried, more firmly. "I need a team member. Don't be silly."
Her nostrils flared: wrong approach. James was trying to patronise her-the nerve of the man! He had had no contact with her since leaving Hogwarts other than an unanswered curt, work-related note of Lily's many years ago.
"I don't need to return, James. I was invited-"
"Well, there you go."
"And I choose not to accept! Frankly, how could the two of us work together in peace?"
Looking around, Lily realised that the others were wondering the exact same thing. Marlene and Dorcas were watching them with bewildered interest. Amelia had left her office, too, and observed the scene from afar. What did they think was happening? Lily and James' relationship, back in the day, had been a fairly public one, but none of the girls had been a friend of theirs back then.
He shrugged. "One would hope that we've grown up since Hogwarts. We won't argue all the time like back then."
There was a slight pause, in which she wondered how probable that was. Lily considered herself mature, but certainly wasn't acting like it. There was something about the situation, about James, that brought out the childish brat in her. The impulse to stalk off in a huff was almost irresistible.
"I fear inefficiency as much as you do, Lily, but I think it would be worth it. For goodness' sake, I'm Head of Strategy-we'll have to work together at some point!"
She raised an eyebrow, and blinked a few times, absorbing this new piece of information. "I'm the French Head of Strategy, and, theoretically, that would be my post here, too." After a slight hesitation, she realised dismally, "They do expect us to work together, don't they."
It wasn't a question, and it indicated that Lily's usually fast and highly logical brain was at last being put to work. She felt cornered. If the situation had concerned anyone but James Potter, she would've decided a long time ago. But this was real, not some strange, somewhat nostalgic and frightening nightmare-now what?
"We'll have to-?" James began incredulously. He clearly hadn't considered the possibility of sharing command with anyone, least of all Lily.
"You know," Dorcas intervened, "the Minister wrote a personal recommendation on Lily's file, saying you two should publish your strategies together."
Lily snorted. "Mine are worthless. I would have to go over all that rubbish, and redo everything from scratch."
"Mine need serious reviewing as well, but it can be done."
For the first time, Lily seriously considered the possibility of staying, and almost slapped herself for it. She did want to come back to London; to be perfectly honest, the thought of working on this team tickled her pride. It was a challenge: they were good, all of them. James would be a problem-she had no doubt about it-, but he was also the British Head of Strategy, which wasn't an easy position to achieve.
"What harm can it do?" James asked, correctly guessing what she was thinking. "What would that have to do with anything? Have you never worked with an ex before?"
Strangely enough, Lily had never considered James Potter a mere ex-boyfriend. He was more: some kind of symbol, yes-definitely her first and worst heartbreak, and even a life-changing event of sorts. In the end, however, theirs was a fairly simple story: she'd loved him, and he'd cheated on her.
"It's different," she said nervously, feeling her resolve quickly fading. "It's you."
"I'm not saying it'll work. To be honest, I have no idea of what will happen, but I've had a hard time finding people with whom I work well, and…" James shook his head. "You're complicated, but at least I know I can deal with you."
She didn't bother telling him she felt the same. If she was to work in London, she reasoned, it was probably better to do so with someone whom she already knew well. "What about Sirius?"
His only response was a nonchalant shrug, which could indicate either that Padfoot was not available, or that an impulsive troublemaker was not James' idea of a desirable colleague. Lily understood that. She further presumed that few Aurors were willing to work away from the disorganised, friendly Ministry headquarters, and even fewer had enough qualifications to be helpful in this team, whose function was to provide material and intelligence for all the others.
Lily frowned, fearing what she was about to do. He'd convinced her, of course, but she still believed that regret would inevitably follow her decision. Part of her-the workaholic woman who commanded most of her decisions-could see only advantages to working here: personality compatibilities were bound to be either irrelevant or productive, despite everything.
She paid little attention to the incessant nagging of her emotional side, which remembered James all too well, both the dreamy relationship and the subsequent heartbreak. Lily was confident that no romantic relationship could blossom out of this new, politely angry interaction.
"I don't like you," she spat all of a sudden, and James beamed. He'd succeeded.
Lily sighed. This was it: beyond any doubt, a moment she was bound to curse for months to come.
"Will anyone else start working here?"
"There is a need, of course, but it's hard to find suitable candidates." The corners of his lips twitched. "We can always call Kate Malshirn, if you want-she's a constant applicant."
She stared at him. Malshirn was the girl with whom James had cheated on Lily. The name alone made her grimace. "I hope you're joking," she replied icily.
"Of course. She and I don't get along at all."
"Is she still annoying?"
"Oh, yes-you'll hate her."
"Excellent. It's a good thing that I won't work in the Ministry, I guess."
"Do you want to start today? I'm sure we can-"
She shook her head. "I have to go back home and tie up some loose ends."
"All right. You should go see Dumbledore," he gave her a meaningful look. "And I should probably wait for you before rearranging the office, yes?"
Lily smiled all of a sudden, and cast a long glance at her new teammates. The three women still seemed to be in varying stages of bewilderment, but James' facial expression betrayed nothing but some superficial self-satisfaction. "This should be interesting."
"It's bound to be very interesting," he laughed. "That's good. I've been bored."
The statement startled Lily, but, on second thought, maybe it was to be expected. Like any other occupation, an Auror's life, however marvellous and adventurous it might seem to an onlooker, became routine after a while. The worst of it was that when risking one's life became somewhat dull, there was little that could shake things up.
Now, James had happened to Lily. He really was a force of nature that could easily turn Lily's life inside out in no time. For a moment, she allowed herself to be pleased, and happy with her choice. Working in London would be downright thrilling.
"Have a good day," she said to Amelia, Dorcas and Marlene. She turned to James. "I'll see you tomorrow."