A Knack for Things

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a school for the unusual, for the strange, for the children who just wouldn't fit in, anywhere else. At Hogwarts, these children shine, flourishing in this small school in Scotland, letting their natural gifts grow. Except for this child, apparently.

She had a knack for numbers. They made sense. That was why she got an O in her O.W.L.s in both Potions and Arithmancy - because she could bend the numbers to her will. There was something about them that spoke to her rationale. The components of a formula, chemical or mathematical, practically jumped to her bidding, solving themselves. But just because she was good at those two subjects didn't mean that she liked them.

And then there was Charms. She was good at Charms, too, but it was a subject that she found rather interesting. To her, the ability to alter objects temporarily was absolutely brilliant. It was pure magic, it was - all you needed was your wand and a creative brain, no fancy props or anything. And when she liked something, she paid attention in class. So she got an O in her Charms O.W.L.; but what did any of that really mean, anyway?

Which was why, when Lily Evans was confronted by a Career Advice session, she panicked.

“Good heavens, Miss Evans, are you all right?” McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, was staring at the girl's pale white face, a sheet of parchment listing Lily's O.WL.'s in front of her. “I merely asked if you had given any thought to playing to your strengths, in terms of your future?”

“Erm, not at all,” Lily admitted, eyes cast downwards at her fingers twisting in her lap. “I mean, I don't really like any subject more than any other, and it's not like I'm especially good at anything.”

There was a momentary silence; Lily looked up to find McGonagall just looking at her, eyes narrowed. “Surely you're joking,” she said at last.

Lily shrugged.

McGonagall took off her glasses and quickly cleaned them on her robes, saying slowly, “I would expect better from my sixth year prefect. What will you do for your senior tutorial? Or this summer? I hope you realize that an internship in the right field will help you be a star applicant for employment opportunities.”

“Erm” - Lily bit her lip, trying to think - “I dunno. I've just been a bit busy, I guess. My aunt wants me to help her out in her flower shop when school's out.” She supposed this was not what McGonagall wanted to hear, but that was the truth. To some extent, anyway. To be honest, she had been a bit preoccupied of late.

“Miss Evans.” McGonagall leaned forward across her desk, and Lily knew that this meant that the woman was serious. “You're a very bright girl, with a bright future, despite these times of war.” She slid a couple of colorful pamphlets towards Lily as she said firmly, “I expect you to take a look at these before our meeting next week. They're geared toward someone of your particular strengths. You will bring me a list of potential careers that are of interest. Are we agreed?” She held Lily's gaze until the girl nodded meekly, before inclining her head in dismissal. Lily left quickly.

“God, Evans, what took you so long?” Lily looked up to see Sirius Black leaning wall outside McGonagall's office, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked. Naturally, his voice was snide - for some reason, he'd never liked her. Presumably, his Career Advice session was next. McGonagall was systematically working her way through all the Gryffindor sixth years this week. “You plan out your whole life with her or sommat?”

“Nah. Didn't even get beyond plans for the summer, to be honest. Apparently I'm not going to amount to much.” She flashed him a wry smile and spun on her heel, leaving a bemused boy in her wake.

---

“Hello, poppet! What're you reading?” Lily raised her eyebrows in greeting to her favorite source of irritation - Potter - but raised the book so that he could see the title anyway. “Flesh-Eating Trees of the World; sounds utterly fascinating!” She didn't know how he had managed to find her, tucked away as she was in a nook of the library, but, nevertheless, here he was.

“It is. Why are you so cheery?” Lily muttered, going back to the book. If she concentrated long enough, maybe he would go away…

No such luck. It was James Potter after all. With a wide grin he collapsed into the armchair across from her before throwing a pile of pamphlets onto her table. Pamphlets that looked suspiciously like the ones that Lily had “accidentally” left in the common room before dinner. Damn. “I ran into McGonagall after dinner, you see.” If anything, his grin got wider. “She sent me on an errand.”

“Oh?” Lily pursed her lips. Ordinarily, she might have been amused by his presence, but as it was, she was actually caught up in a chapter that might prove useful to her Muggle botanist of a father. Her family seemed to have an affinity for plants.

Apparently Potter mistook her silence for interest, for he pressed onwards, pushing the brightly colored papers across the table, saying, “Well, not a technical errand. More like a suggestion of hers, you see. Wanted to make sure that you were thinking about job plans, y'know. These were left in the common room - Padfoot recognized them as yours?”

“Padfoot is much too observant sometimes.” She turned the page. “And there really is no need for you to be bothering about this career nonsense.” The carnivorous Fanged Geranium has a preference for humans, but it will often bite anything within a 1 meter radius. Easily mistaken for a generic geranium. While not a flesh eating tree per se, it is frequently found near those trees and is -

He snickered, interrupting her train of thought. “McGonagall worries about you, is all. I mean, what with this war and all. You do know there's a war on, right?”

“Of course!” near those trees and is capable of forming a symbiotic -

“Because despite the fact that Hogwarts is a bit of a bubble for news, you really ought to realize what an effect the war has on openings for jobs. The Auror Department, for instance.” A dark blue brochure with silver lettering was pushed into her lap, proclaiming “Your Ministry Needs You!”

She sighed before she could help herself. Clearly, she would have no peace until she dealt with the boy. He wouldn't even let her finish the sentence, let alone the chapter! So she closed the book and stuffed it into her bag. “Is that what you're going to be, Potter? An Auror?” But of course it was. It was what he'd wanted to be for years. Potter had no secrets from the Hogwarts community.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, and she was momentarily surprised to see such a noncommittal gesture from him. Potter was about assertiveness and confidence - she had always been the disinterested one. “If that's the best way to help the government, I s'pose. But we weren't talking about me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Thought you would've been organized enough to have a plan or something.”

“Me?” She twisted her mouth into something akin to a grimace. “Potter, let's be honest. I can't even plan beyond tomorrow, let alone the next couple of years!”

Now he really looked surprised. “But you're always so organized! And working hard!” He sifted through the other pamphlets. “Well, McGonagall thinks you could be a Healer. Or a Curse-Breaker at Gringotts.” He brightened a little. “You're good at Arithmancy, after all. Or Muggle relations! Bet you'd be brilliant at that!”

“What with being Muggleborn and all,” she pointed out dryly.

“Oh. Right.” He grinned sheepishly. Merlin - the boy just bounced from emotion to emotion, didn't he?

“Potter, what are you really doing here?” She looked him in the eye, surprised to see him flush a faint pink. It was almost - adorable? No, comical was a better word. “Don't you have pranks to pull with your little lackeys?”

“Well, there was McGonagall's errand, you see.” He took on a serious look; she hoped he was joking. But he wasn't. “She seems to be rather concerned about you.”

“And she asked you, of all the people that I know, to help me with this theoretically life-altering decision?”

“Erm…well…you see…” He was stalling. Any first year idiot could see that. She sighed again, winding a long curl around her finger - she really must see about cutting some of the blasted hair off, maybe the next Hogsmeade visit? “I was with Remus, and I mean, she didn't say specifically, but - “

“She asked Remus.” Of course she did. Not only was he her fellow prefect, but McGonagall had a soft spot for him. And he was a friend. A reasonably close friend, actually.

“Right. But we passed Isabella right afterwards and she mentioned that you were in the library and I told Remus that I was on my way here anyway and he just kinda went along with it.” One of her friends had told them her location? She was going to have to have a talk with Isabella about this. Did the girl just not understand that the Marauders and Lily just didn't mesh well? “Which is to say that I didn't give him a chance to object.” Potter's bright smile never wavered during this baffling explanation. “So you see, there was an errand, and McGonagall did assign it, and - “

“Merlin, help me,” Lily muttered, before leaning across the table and frowning at the boy “Listen, Potter. I don't know what I'm doing, but frankly, I doubt that you're the person to help me. So, if you don't mind, I'll just - “

He interrupted again. What was with him and interrupting her? “We could discuss career prospects over dinner this weekend, in Hogsmeade, if you like.” Ah. There it was. The inevitable invitation.

“I'll pass, Potter.” In a swift motion Lily gracefully stood up, bag slung over her shoulder. “Nice try, though. Points for carrying on a conversation before trying to transition into asking. Too bad the transition needs work.” With one last smirk, she stalked out of the library. Isabella had some explaining to do.

---

A/n: Well, here we are. After a three-year hiatus - hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think, please?

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Friday, June 10, 1977

How had this happened? Somehow, an entire week had passed, and now Lily Evans was skidding to a stop in front of McGonagall's office. Damn Career Advice sessions. She checked her watch - it was 4:30; she was right on time, as always. This was something else that Lily was good at - being punctual.

Or rather, arriving just in the nick of time, a slight hair before anybody would consider her late. Fiona was rather envious of this ability, since the poor girl could set off ten minutes early and somehow show up late, whereas Lily could, from classes to Quidditch games, be unfailingly on time. However, professors were often marginally irritated with her for, as they often put it, “not showing initiative and showing up early.” Apparently, prefects were supposed to be good role models. Strange concept, that.

“Bye, Professor.” Lily grinned at Fiona Adler as the other girl stepped out of McGonagall's office, a pile of books in her arms. “Oh, hi, Lily. Your turn next?”

She nodded. “How was it?”

Fiona shrugged. “She hasn't got much to do with me, really. Healing runs in my blood.” Lily was almost envious of Fiona's practically predetermined path - she had nothing of the sort. Fiona was still talking. “Anyway, McGonagall's in a good mood, so you should thank me. Well, her happiness might also be because I think all the Gryffindors passed their Transfiguration exams. I'm off to pack - Julian and I have plans later. See you tonight?” Without waiting for an answer the girl walked away, leaving Lily completely on her own.

“Hello, Ms. Evans. Take a seat.” Minerva McGonagall peered over her spectacles at her prefect. “What ideas do you have for me?”

“Well…” Lily cast about for an idea. “Erm…I like Charms,” she began hesitantly, thinking that McGonagall's eyes had brightened marginally. “And since I'm helping my aunt with her flower shop, er - I know I'm not very good with plants, but -“

“You haven't thought about it at all, have you.” It wasn't a question. Lily averted her eyes - she didn't want to see the look of disappointment in her professor's eyes.

“Erm…”

A loud sigh. “Ms. Evans, let's try a different approach, seeing as you seem to have misplaced all of those pamphlets.” Lily was trying to not simultaneously blush and giggle. Fiona had brought the papers to her last night, saying that James had instructed her to give them to Lily. When the red-haired girl tried to vanish them, they had apparently appeared in various parts of the castle - at least Lily no longer had to contend with them. “Well? What do you like to do?”

“Read,” she replied promptly, then blushed at how silly that sounded. “And I like Charms, I guess. More so than Herbology, anyway. Erm, I like Ancient Runes too, actually.” She stole a look at her Head of House, relieved that the woman was nodding slightly. Emboldened, she went on. “I dunno, I want to create things, I think. Translating Runes is only fun because, well, because it goes back to the fundamental building blocks of magic, and you can play around with those.” She didn't even know where that last bit had come from.

A flicker of a smile appeared on McGonagall's lips - had Lily just imagined it? “I see,” the professor replied slowly. “So, what about a job in which you could learn to create your own spells?”

Lily gave this thought a moment's pause. “Create…anything? Really?” It had never even occurred to her, this idea. Then again, she hadn't thought about jobs at all, Muggle or magical. Oh, Isabella was going to be a Wizengamot intern this summer, and Fiona had her Healer ambitions, and even Emmeline had a plan, even if it was to marry a rich bloke (preferably one named Benjy Fenwick) and have half a dozen children. But Lily…Lily was the one who was trying to drift through life without a plan. Besides the whole flower shop thing. But this sounded…almost interesting, actually. She pasted a nonchalant smile on her face. “I'll look into it, Professor.”

McGonagall sniffed. “Please don't lose this one.” She handed the girl a dark green roll of parchment, labeled: “Spellcrafting: A Preparations Guide.” “This has a list of recommended reading, all of which can be found at Flourish and Blotts. I'll see you at the beginning of next year to discuss which courses will help in this direction, if you are still interested.” That last bit might have been sarcastic, Lily thought. Still, the idea of the job was intriguing, though perhaps the job wouldn't be. “You're dismissed - please send in Mr. Black.”

Lily stood up and already had her hand on the doorknob when McGonagall said, “And, Ms. Evans - “ Lily waited, slightly impatient - she had a lot to do today. “Have a good summer.”

000

Five hours later, Lily could be found in her room, methodically packing. It was the last day of the term; exams were finished that morning, and she had nothing else to do, really. The feast had been good; she was pleasantly full, but she'd slipped away before everyone else so that she'd have time to walk through these hallowed halls one last time, alone. And so that she could avoid that Potter boy - he had been haranguing her all week about careers.

“Hey, Lily, I don't know if you've heard…” Lily looked up - Fiona had just walked into the room, twirling her wand idly with her right hand. “We have this thing called “magic,” now.” She paused for effect. “And it simplifies things.” In demonstration, she waved her wand (Fee was great at nonverbal magic) and both of them watched as all of Fiona's clothing flew out of her drawers and into a trunk, neatly folding themselves as they did so. “See? Magic!”

Lily smiled faintly. “Never heard of it. I like doing things by hand. Keeps me humble, you know?” She rolled up a scarf and wedged it between two pairs of shoes.

“Whatever. Takes up more time,” Fiona informed her. She held up a rather large amber bottle in one hand and a stack of cups in the other, smiling wickedly. “You ought to be proud of me - I managed to procure us some Firewhisky.” Her eyebrows waggled. “With some…other, unnamable liquids too.”

“Isabella will be so pleased.”

“Isabella is pleased.” Isabella Marquez strode into the room and grinned. “Hello darlings. I brought a pack of Butterbeer. Fee, I thought you were going to be out with Julian.” She flopped down onto her bed, thick dark hair fanning out on the coverlet.

“And you with Michael?” Fiona retorted. She set the bottle down on her trunk and went to the mirror, examining her freckles closely. “Julian…wasn't extraordinary. I have yet to find such a boy. Why is everyone just second-rate?” The tall, thin girl pouted at herself in the mirror, then giggled and pulled her bright blonde curls out of a ponytail so that they fell on her shoulders.

“Well, Emmeline's not back yet,” Lily observed. Of course, neither was Tracy, but her bed was practically always empty since she'd taken up with that Hufflepuff bloke. Tracy seemed to reserve a bit of disdain for her fellow Gryffindors, so, for the most part, Lily and her friends ignored the other girl. “And what do you mean, `Julian wasn't extraordinary?' He's Head Boy - there's bound to be something special in that.”

“Yes, but Emmy will settle. Fenwick is nothing special.” Isabella pointed out.

Fiona laughed. “Don't let Emmeline hear that. And I think I'm done with our dear Head Boy. As of tomorrow, he's stripped of that status anyway.”

Two scarves, a pair of jeans…a skirt. That damned green scroll. There. That was it. Lily closed the trunk and locked it with a satisfying set of clicks, then rested her cheek against the cool wood. It felt nice. “Guys,” she murmured. “It's our last night.”

“So it is.” Fiona nodded agreeably. “Can we get piss-drunk now?” Fiona Adler - raging drunkard.

“Sure, now that I'm here.” Emmeline appeared in the doorway looking a bit rumpled, her normally careful bun quite mussed, the skirt hiked too high. She wasn't even wearing her school robes - they were in a large bundle under her arm.

Fiona let out a low whistle. “Have a nice time with your little Ravenclaw, I see.” The others giggled.

Emmeline, always so poised and confident, managed a disdainful sniff before she too collapsed into laughter. “He groped a bit, but all in all, rather satisfying.”

“Erm, Emmy,” Lily said. “Your shirt buttons don't line up.”

She looked down. “So they don't,” she said, bemused.

“That's okay. Here, look, I've got Firewhisky!” Fiona gestured to the bottle proudly.

“Where in Merlin's name did you find that?” Emmeline looked at it cautiously. “Spiked butterbeer is one thing, but we could get in trouble for - “

“Oh, lay off, will you? I didn't kill anyone for this, and Lily won't report us, right?” Fiona yawned widely, and Lily pretended to not see the flare of anger in Emmeline's eyes. The two girls had never quite gotten along. “If you must know, I bought it from Black. Maybe not exactly legal, but he and Potter have a stash.”

“Of course they do. Can we drink now?” Isabella pleaded, sitting up. “I really want to forget the fact that Michael can't kiss a girl properly. Last time I checked, strangling a girl with your tongue is not very romantic.”

Fiona wrinkled her nose in disgust, but obligingly uncorked the bottle and carefully poured some out for everyone. Lily passed the cups around, and they raised them together. “Can we toast extraordinary boys?” Fiona asked.

“Of which there are none, apparently,” Lily said, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes, well, I expect to find some this summer,” Fiona replied haughtily. “And Lily dearest, you'll have to help me. To extraordinary boys!” she yelled, and they all nodded and repeated the phrase, smiling.

As Lily looked around the room, watching her friends drink and chatter happily, she realized that this was one of those moments that she wanted to remember forever. The joy, the smiles, the ring of laughter. Sure, they would see each other over the summer, and they would be back the next year, but it wouldn't be the same. Isabella had turned seventeen in February, and Fiona and Emmeline had birthdays in May. Lily herself was a summer birthday. And when they came back to school, as seventeen, they would be of age, technically, legally, adults in the wizarding world. To be frank, the thought of adulthood frightened her. That meant decisions. And fighting. In a war that had been thrust upon them all.

And Lily wasn't sure that she wanted any part of it.

ooo

A/n: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Penny for your thoughts?

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Of Letters and Messes

Saturday, July 15, 1977

“Lily! Mail!” The redhead jumped at the sound of her mother's high voice. Mum had never really taken to owls.

“Coming!” Lily yelled back, before rolling herself off the bed, blankets tangling around her legs, the book she had just been reading falling to the floor. Then she clattered down the stairs and smiled at the sight of a thick stack of letters. “Morning,” she called out distractedly. She bobbed her head at her mother and Petunia once - Dad was already at work. Then she grabbed the stack and ran back upstairs.

The first was a long letter from Fiona - her first one from the other girl, actually, since the Adler family took an annual vacation to south of France and weren't allowed to write to anyone. Merlin knew Lily's family was not the sort to go off and have fun together, but Lily had never met Fiona's parents, so she couldn't judge them for their strange ideas.

But Fiona was well, she missed Lily; she was back, could they meet up in Diagon Alley today at four to catch up? Lily didn't even need to think about it; she scribbled back a hasty “Yes!”, making a note to herself to tell Mum that she'd be out late. It had been weeks since Lily had gone out with anyone. Then she coaxed her little owl out of her cage and sent the note off.

The second and third were short notes from Isabella (who spent all of her waking hours with the Wizengamot now) and Emmeline (who was vacationing in France, trying to pick up a decent bloke before she had to come back and work at Madame Malkin's). Isabella was busy with a big trial at the moment; she was wondering if Lily was going to some party - thrown by Sirius Black? Lily folded up the note and slid it into a drawer of her desk - she could answer that later. Lily wrote to Isabella all the time, though the poor girl was swamped with work and so wrote back considerably less. Lily could feel pages and pages with writing - she was good at that. So it was a slight disappointment to her when Isabella and Emmeline sent back two-liners. Still, at least they answered.

Emmeline's note was short and rather cryptic, however. Attached was a photograph of her and some bloke, who was relatively attractive enough. They were in a café, smiling. Actually, he looked vaguely familiar…

Lily -

Australia is nice. The bloke is Fabian Prewett - do you remember him? He's here working with some dragons. And tell Fiona she was wrong.

Emmy

Fabian Prewett…oh yes, hadn't he gone to Hogwarts several years back? Lily faintly recalled a bloke with nice hair and a wide grin. Oh well - even Fiona would acknowledge that he was more extraordinary than the usual lot that Emmy found. Anyway, why couldn't Emmy tell Fiona herself? But Lily had never been sure if her friends exchanged correspondence with one another, besides writing to Lily. She shrugged and tucked this note in her bag, resolving to show the picture to Fiona and pass along the message.

She turned to the rest of the pile. There was a letter from Hogwarts (probably school supply list - Lily tossed it under the bed, so that she wouldn't have to think about school for a little bit longer), a couple of magazine subscriptions, the Daily Prophet…and another letter. It was, surprisingly enough, from Potter. She smirked at the messy scrawl in blue ink, setting it aside to read later, when she perhaps needed cheering up. No doubt it was a cheeky request for a date, with one or two awful pick-up lines thrown in for good measure.

“Lily, do you want some lunch?” She was interrupted in her rereading of Fiona's letter by her mother, who was leaning against the doorjamb, fatigue wrinkling her brow and crinkling her eyes. Had her mum always had crow's feet, or were these new since Lily had been home for Easter break? “I made sandwiches.”

Lily shook her head, a twinge of guilt passing through her. “If it's all right, can I go to London? I need to pick up a few things.” Fiona would probably spend the whole time trying to pick up an extraordinary boy, but Lily desperately needed to get to Flourish and Blotts. Plus, she really couldn't handle another confrontation with Petunia at the moment - all that sniping about her menial job in Aunt Margot's flower shop and magic and her future, etc. What was it with people and being obsessed with jobs and flats and getting married? Wasn't she too young to be contemplating all this, anyway?

“Sure, of course. Do you need money?” her mum asked, lingering for a moment.

“Nah, thanks, though. Aunt Margot just paid me yesterday.” She stood and started searching for clothing, smiling at her mother briefly as Clara Evans left and went back to the kitchen. That dark pair of jeans that made her butt look smaller…had she thrown it in the hamper? No, here it was, under her bed. She shucked her sweatpants and slid the jeans on before starting a search for that blouse that she had somewhere that supposedly went well with her hair…maybe under her library books? Or perhaps that pile of records…

Lily was good at being unorganized.

ooo

“Ack!” Lily jolted at the feel of a hand on her arm, startled out of her thoughts. Being naturally gifted at clumsiness, she bumped up against a display of beautiful hardbound books like A Century of Goblin History and War: A Goblin's Definition. The display pyramid wobbled and Lily yelped as the whole thing collapsed at her feet. Damn. They were interesting books, all of them. Given time, Lily might even have made her way over and perused them as, but now she wouldn't get the chance, seeing as a Flourish and Blotts employee would probably haul her out on her ass immediately. Double damn, seeing as, at the moment, she was engrossed in another book altogether.

“The Philosophy of the Mundane: Why Muggles Prefer Not to Know by Professor Mordicus Egg. Sounds fascinating - are you philosophizing now?” a bright voice read over her shoulder. Lily turned and bumped up against James Potter, happily grinning down at her. Had he grown another couple inches in the last month or so?

“You look like a daft fool, Potter. Merlin, the world is so small.”

“Yes, it is, isn't it? And I am dreadfully thankful for this fact, because, otherwise, I wouldn't have met you today in this nice little corner of this nice little bookshop.”

“How fortunate for me.” She had no sooner slid the book back into its slot on the shelf when a harried looking young man in a Flourish and Blotts trademark purple apron came over, gesticulating wildly with his hands, sputtering outrage at them. She blushed; the man's face was starting to match the color of his apron.

“C'mon, Evans.” That hand on her arm steered her outside, and she went, sighing at the injustice of it all. When they were both outside, blinking in the blinding sunlight, she turned to him.

“Y'know, I wouldn't have been kicked out if it weren't for you.” She was miffed - yes, she'd already bought all the books she needed, but how was she going to occupy the handful of minutes before Fiona showed up? They were meeting at Fortescue's…well, she could go there alone first, she supposed.

“Terribly sorry about that, Evans.” He looked mildly apologetic, which counted for something, she supposed. “I just wanted to say hi, is all - “

“Oy!” All thoughts of her anger were forgotten when she was practically barreled over by a terribly excited Sirius Black as he burst from the doors of her favorite bookstore and launched himself at his best mate, his long hair flipping about and making a bit of a commotion in the street, actually. She was appalled by the giggling girls who passed by. “Prongs, did you forget me or what? Oh, hullo, Evans.”

“Hi.” She flapped a hand halfheartedly at him. “Your Prongs got me kicked out of Flourish and Blotts.”

“He is a mischief maker, this one!” Sirius said. “Having a nice summer, Evans?” Potter shoved the other boy away, so that they stood side-by-side, facing her. She was struck by the differences in them, how Potter had been unfailingly chipper every time she saw him, whereas Black alternated between the two extremes of laconic depression and talkative excitement. Even now, Black's happiness was just so much more than Potter's, like Sirius Black was realer than reality somehow.

“Yeah, I've been working. You?” she replied, adjusting her bags so that her grip on them was better.

“Well, Prongs and I have been up to our usual debauchery and tomfoolery, haven't we, Prongs dearest?” Black grabbed Potter's nose and rubbed it affectionately. “You see, you're looking at the two newest additions to the Ministry's set of poor, groveling interns. Except, if we keep messing with the messenger owls, they might fire us, I'm afraid. But how can I resist setting things on fire?” He flung his arms out wildly and struck a dramatic pose. She laughed. Black could be very strange.

Potter spoke up now, his eyes darting curiously from Lily to Sirius, and back again. “Did you get my note, Evans?”

“Erm…I think I saw something of the sort on my desk this morning, yes.” It was partially true, in the sense that she had seen it. But if by “get my note” he meant “read it…” then she was a bit of a liar. “Was it important?”

“Uh…” He smiled at her in an almost pleasant but nervous sort of fashion. It was a strange mix of emotions that probably shouldn't coexist, since it made his grin rather awkward and almost menacing and his forehead was rather crinkled.

“If you were looking for a date, I'm afraid I'm rather busy,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “No date.”

“Oh.” She blushed pink, feeling embarrassed for presuming such a thing.

“Prongs has got a bird, now,” Sirius said suddenly. He flipped his hair in what was, presumably, a rakish manner. What was it with boys and their hair? Potter was always running a hand through his, Black was flipping it…even Remus had a tendency to twirl a strand around one finger, while Peter was a fan of unconsciously chewing a couple hairs.

“Really?” She quirked an eyebrow, hoping that her dry tone of voice would cover up the fact that she was feeling really, really embarrassed. Why had she presumed such a thing? Well, it was rather logical, since that's what most of his notes during vacations were about, when he bothered to send her notes, that was. Seeing as she only replied with short bursts of witticisms, she was frankly surprised that he wrote her at all. “Who is it?”

“Bridget, but I usually just call her Bird,” Sirius said with a wicked smile. “She's a pretty little thing, almost as short as you, Evans.”

“How…that's lovely, Potter. Very witty, Black.” She paused. Hang on, didn't Fiona have a cousin named Bridget? How many Bridgets could there be, after all - it wasn't exactly a common name, right? “Then your note?”

“Oh. Well. I'm…I'm Head Boy.”

Well, there was something weird. But to be truthful, Lily really hadn't given the choice of Head Boy (or Head Girl) much thought. She supposed that if she'd had to pick, Potter was a reasonable choice - the school did seem to like and respect him. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose.” Her brow furrowed. “Why write to me about it? Surely you don't need to beg for praise.”

Black snorted. “Prongs can be a bit vain, now that I think of it.”

Potter just looked at her.

“Dumbledore said…he told me that…well…” Potter took a breath. “Aren't you Head Girl?”

“What?” Lily didn't know whether to laugh or snicker at this absurd notion. “Have you lost your mind?”

“What? But Dumbledore wrote me - didn't you get a letter from Hogwarts? He said that I was, well, Head Boy, and that you were Head Girl, and that I ought to contact you so that we could talk before school started and - “

“A letter?” What letter? Oh. “This morning,” she said slowly, thinking. What was the order of it? She tried to picture exactly what had happened. “There was a letter from Hogwarts. But I…” She looked at the two boys, who were staring at her rather strangely. “Well, I threw it under the bed, if you must know,” she admitted, blushing again. Now they'd think she was a bad prefect or something. Which she was, but that didn't meant that everyone had to know.

“You…threw - it - under the bed?” James repeated weakly. “You?” At least she'd shaken that strange sort of chipperness from him. Chipperness. For people like Potter, this neologism was coined. Beside him, Sirius was giving her a thumbs up and a strange, reassessing sort of smile, his head tilted slightly to the right.

“It's just a letter about school starting again, isn't it?” She swallowed, hard. “There's no way I'm Head Girl.”

“Why not?” Potter looked perplexed.

“Because…because…” Great. Now she was sputtering like that Flourish and Blotts boy in the purple apron and her face was probably purple like his and - “My marks aren't that high, I'm a terrible leader and I can't even think about a career in the future, and I don't even rat on people like that Ursula Gilmore in Ravenclaw - she out to be Head Girl! I'm lousy at Prefecting, too. I mean, there's a list of reasons why I oughtn't be Head Girl, whereas I can kind of understand why Dumbledore would make you Head Boy, even if you're not a prefect.”

Sirius snickered again. “Why would Dumbledore pick Prongs as his boy toy, then? Personally, I think Bancroft was just a little too bland for the likes of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster extraordinaire.”

She cocked her head. “That's a good theory. Ursula Gilmore fits into that - she'd follow his orders all over the place, whereas I would just forget them immediately after hearing them. I like that theory. How about it? I can see the Prophet headlines: James Potter: Manslave.”

Potter's eyes darkened behind his glasses, his eyebrows coming together so that he was now the Bloke with the Unibrow. Apparently he didn't like this humor of hers. Then again, when was the last time she had joked around with these two? She couldn't remember. “All the same, Lily, I am quite positive that you're Head Girl.”

She shrugged. “When I get home tonight, I'll check. Under my bed, that is. Except that I won't be back until late, so you'll just have to wait around, I'm afraid. Unless Dumbledore owls you lot back saying that he retracts his statement, has come to his senses, and has already owled Ursula for the position. Hell, maybe he'll even demote me so that I'm no longer a prefect.”

Both boys stared at her, a bit stunned. Was it the sunlight that made them so strange? It was a bit bright, after all. She shrugged - all this talking and nonsense had quickly whiled away the time - if she didn't go now, she might actually be late for Fiona, and that would never do. “It was nice to see you, Black. Potter.” She nodded at them and turned, walking away, shaking her head at the strangeness of boys. She didn't think she would ever understand the likes of them.

ooo

“Exactly in time!” Fiona Adler shook her head wonderingly as Lily ran onto the tiny patio of Florean Fortescue's. “I don't know how you do it.”

“What, no hello?” Lily reached over and hugged her, then pulled up a delicately iron worked chair and plopped herself into it. “France treated you nicely, I see.” Fiona, always the beautiful one of the group, looked absolutely incredible. She glowed, all dark brown skin and sun-dappled curls, large blue eyes and a sun-burnt button nose.

“It was lovely, but even French boys are nothing special.” Fiona sighed dramatically. “We shall simply have to try to find some tonight, my dear.” She waved over a waiter and they placed their orders, Fiona's for two scoops of vanilla with caramel syrup and Lily's for a Sorbet Sundae, an “explosion of fruity flavors on the tongue,” as Florean “Anyway,” Fiona added, “I wrote all about France to you, but you haven't said anything to me yet! What've you done today? Yesterday? Last week?”

“Potter got me kicked out of Flourish earlier,” Lily informed her. “And then I had a strange conversation with him and Black. Apparently Potter is our new Head Boy. Or as Black says, Dumbledore's Manslave.” She left out Potter's strange speculations - it wouldn't do to spread rumors about herself that were most likely untrue.

Fiona let out a low whistle. “Manslave, eh? No wonder I never really took to Julian - I want a boy that can think for himself, you know?” She laughed. “I never thought of Potter as the complacent type, I'm afraid. Maybe Dumbledore sees something in him that we don't?”

“Perhaps.” Lily smiled at the waiter in thanks as he set the ice cream down on the table. “Or he gets a kick out of breaking headstrong young boys?” She picked up her spoon.

The other girl giggled. “You make them sound like feisty horses or something.”

“Well, they do call him Prongs.” She dug into the sorbet, starting with the mango.

“Mmm…” Fiona sighed in delight, completely forgetting the subject at hand. “They don't make ice cream like this in France. Do you want a bite?”

“I'm okay, want some of mine?” The blonde girl immediately reached over for a spoonful. “This is the first time I'm in Diagon Alley this summer.”

“Lil-leeeeeeeeee!” Fiona could stretch any word out into its individual syllables. “What've you been doing this whole time?”

“Working.” Lily made a face. “Aunt Margot pays well, but it takes up a lot of time.”

“Lily! How much work can there possibly be at the florist?” Fiona scoffed. “You're…cutting flowers, arranging them into pretty things - “

“Cataloguing flowers, fixing Aunt Margot's accounts,” Lily said, smoothly cutting in and making a bit of a face. “I love her to pieces, but she simply doesn't have a head for numbers.”

“Which you're good at.” Fiona let out a dramatic sigh as she idly twirled her spoon in the rapidly melting slush that was the remnants of her ice cream.

“Well, better than Aunt Margot anyway. And she pays well too.” Lily lifted one eyebrow, suddenly remembering something. “By the by, Emmeline wrote to me this morning. Wanted me to tell you that you were wrong about something.”

“Hmm.” Fiona scrunched up her tiny nose. “Hold it. Was there a boy involved?”

“Yeah, she sent a picture of some boy too. Erm… Prewett? Fabian, I think. What grievous error of yours is she talking about?” Lily asked, grinning slyly.

“Oh, it's nothing.” Fiona waved a hand dismissively. “I told her there were no amazing boys in Australia. I've been there - even if they do have the most adorable accents, they're all sun-blind idiots.” A typical Fiona statement - Emmy had probably taken it as a bit of a challenge.

With a one-shouldered shrug, Lily changed the subject. “And Black mentioned that Potter's got himself a bird.”

“Really?” Fiona pretended to fall out of her chair in shock. “But how ever will he proposition you if he's busy with some girl? And who is it?”

“Her name is Bridget - don't you have a cousin with such a name?” If anything, Fiona's large eyes got even wider, and this time, she actually fell off the chair. Lily peered over the edge of the table. “Are you all right?”

“Mpf.” She rubbed her head as she stood and slipped back into her seat. Then, she stared at Lily. “My cousin has been writing me every other day about some bloke named James that she met that is apparently truly extraordinary. You don't think - “

“It's Potter? How many witches and wizards named Bridget and James do you know?” Lily remarked drily. “Face it - by the end of next year, you and Potter could be related.”

Fiona spat out the water she had been drinking. “I never want to hear you say such terrible things again,” she muttered. “You, my dear girl, have an overactive imagination.”

The redhead smiled apologetically. “It's part of why you love me, darling.”

“You think I love you, anyway.”

“Psh. Don't kid with me.” Fiona waved over the waiter and paid with a Galleon, ignoring her friend's protestations. “You can buy me a drink when we hit that bar. You ready to roll?” Lily looked at what she was wearing - she had forgotten to dress accordingly, and now she was in jeans and a blouse while Fiona sported a green halter and shorts. Bugger. Lily would probably only have to buy Fee the one drink, seeing as how that other girl was sure to be picked up by lots of blokes, extraordinary or not. Too late now. “Let's get out of here.” They stood and, arm in arm, made their way out of the little ice cream parlor, towards the closest bar they could find.

When Lily stumbled back into her house in the early morning, tipsy and dazed off of red currant rum and a bottle of Ogden's, the only thing she remembered was that she had kissed a boy, an extraordinary boy. A certain Thomas Bennington, in fact.

ooo

My dear Ms. Lily Evans,

Thank you for your politely worded response to my letter. However, I assure you - there is no mistake. The entirety of the faculty stands behind my decision to appoint you as our new Head Girl. See you in the fall.

Warmest regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Hogwarts Headmaster

Ooo

A/N: Sorry about the formatting in chapter 2 - the document manager does strange things with line breaks. But thanks for reading it anyway! I hope you enjoyed chapter 3, and reviews give me warm and fuzzy feelings.

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Conversations and Flower Arrangements

ooo

August 23, 1977

“HI!”

“Oh my fucking god - what is wrong with you?”

“What's wrong with me? Are you joking? You hit me!”

“Because you're always sneaking up on me! How was I supposed to know that you weren't a psychotic stalker?”

“Well, I never meant to - I guess you just startle easy.” Potter gave Lily a heavy-lidded smile (which she supposed he thought was attractive). “You have a couple flower petals in your hair, by the way.”

“Or maybe you're just crazy and much too quiet for your own good,” she snapped back, feeling peevish. She finger-combed her hair, pulling the petals out and letting them flutter to the ground. Earlier that morning, she had stopped by the shop to check on a couple of plants that she had (magically) boosted the night before. The roses had taken to the Growth Potion a little too well; lucky Aunt Margot was away for the weekend - Lily could probably shrink the 4 metre rosebushes by then.

“Years of practice,” he said proudly, taking a seat next to her. “Not even Filch hears me coming these days.”

“Lovely,” she said drily. “You can put that on your CV.”

“Of course! I'll include it among my list of many talents.” He handed her a warm cup, saying, “I brought you a cup of coffee.” Potter drank from his own cup and hummed quietly.

“Thanks.” Feeling mollified, she took the cup and sniffed, inhaling the smell of strong coffee fill up her lungs and exhaling it out into the cold morning air. It was weird that he was being so nice to her, but she'd accept it.

Potter pulled out a notebook and a quill; she was surprised to see him so organized. "All right. Can we talk about school now? You know, the reason we're here in the first place?"

"But of course. If it hurries this meeting along." Lily stared out at the old wooden playground, watching toddlers in blue pinafores and long pigtails run around and laugh in the bright early morning sunshine. Really, it was too early for her to be up during the summer. And on a weekend, no less! "Where are we, anyway?"

Potter smiled blissfully. “My mum used to bring me here when I was little. It's a good place to think. Of course, we used a Portkey then, but now that I can Apparate...we're in the country.”

“Well, it's very pretty.” She actually agreed with Potter, for once. They were good places to think. There was something about parks, about how they brought back all the memory and essence and happiness of childhood. She loved parks. “What did you want to talk about?”

He shot her a look that was almost annoyed. “We have leadership duties, remember?” he said patiently (though through teeth that were, quite possibly, gritted). “Have you come around to this idea, yet?”

She made a rude noise and clutched her coffee cup tighter. In truth, she had given this idea very little thought indeed, even if she had come around to accepting it. Lately, she'd been distracted by McGonagall's terse reminders about careers that came every two weeks…and a certain boy she'd met in Diagon Alley last month. “What exactly are we supposed to work out, anyway?”

“I dunno - patrol schedules, maybe? What did they talk about in the first prefect meeting last year?” He pulled out a crumpled list and squinted at it - she peered over and saw Remus's familiar, neat script, carefully outlining a list of Prefect Duties.

“I never paid attention, I'm afraid.” She took another sip of her coffee, but it was already cold. Making a face, and, with a quick look around, whipped out her wand and muttered a quick Warming Charm. Ah. Much better. She loved being seventeen - loved the ability to legally perform magic. Having just come of age last week, she was having a ball, what with subtly annoying Petunia, as well as impressing her parents with how quickly she could clean the house while they were out.

“What?” Lily glanced over to see a strange, sort of reassessing look on Potter's face. “But you're like…of course Dumbledore picked you for Head Girl! And you don't pay attention in meetings?!”

“They're rather boring, if you must know. And if I ask around enough, somebody will usually drag me onto patrol when it's time. See, I really am a terrible prefect. And when did you get so organized?”

He let out a rather frustrated sigh. “Look, last time we met - before you ran off on your date with that bloke because you forgot that we had a meeting - we worked out what sort of events we ought to have, like that ball idea? What if we go over the tutoring session schedule? I know that the Head Boy and Girl organize that.”

“I already apologized about last time. I have a terrible memory.” And Thomas Bennington had been free that night. He'd owled her that morning, out of the blue, and she'd completely forgotten about Potter and his note the week before. Of course she'd said yes - Thomas was a good looking bloke with decent hair and a nice smile: a nice way to liven up her summer. “I don't have to tutor a bunch of children do I? I don't have any patience.”

“Remus explained it to me. Once a week, I have to take a subject - Transfiguration, I suppose - and you take one too - Charms? Potions? I guess you could do anything you liked. Then we pick prefects for the rest. I have the list of prefects somewhere…” He started digging in his pockets for something, presumably the list or something. Potter looked half-decent today, with his thatch of black hair, a dark green jumper and ordinary dark trousers. He might have passed for a Muggle on the street, if it weren't for the Gryffindor lion emblazoned onto his scarf.

“Well, that should take care of that. We'll ask for volunteers when we get back to school. Merlin, Potter, don't you have anything better to do this summer than think about school? Isn't that the point of summer?” She might say that to him, but in truth, she had finished all her summer reading immediately, if only so that she wouldn't have to think about it.

“I just want to be prepared, is all. Can we go over patrols?”

She sighed disparagingly. “Right. Patrols. Two people a night, yeah? How many prefects have we got - twenty-two? With us, that makes twenty-four. So, since patrols are six days a week, then we'll have a rotation of…two weeks, which means most people will patrol twice a month. Just put everyone on different rounds so that our lovely prefects get to patrol with different people each time. Dumbledore will like that. That should do it, right?”

Again with that strange look on his face! “And you say you don't pay attention…”

She explained her logic. “Well, I don't. But I got stuck with that Gretchen Crabbe all last year and she spent the whole time sneering at me. Wasn't exactly pleasant, you know?”

“So this whole system is really for your own benefit.”

She smiled approvingly at him. “Now you're getting it.” There was hope for this boy after all. “We patrol as infrequently as possible, and I don't have to deal with Wretched Gretchen or someone equally awful all the time.”

“I see. And…that's how you plan to do things?”

“Do what?”

“Well…run things.”

“Uh, sure.” She was slightly confused, but she shook it off with a long sip of her coffee, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat and into her stomach. “Do we have to go over anything else, then?” She was watching a couple on the far side of the park, curled up together on a bench similar to hers. They were in their early twenties and apparently very much in love. One look at their clothing and she decided that they were newlywed university students, here in the park on a Saturday morning to babysit a nephew. She imagined that they were picturing their own little family at the park someday, and loving the vision. Peoplewatching was a favorite pastime of hers.

Potter ran a finger down the list, frowning and mouthing words. “No, I guess that's it, really. We can meet on the train too, right? Isn't there a meeting?”

She yawned widely. “Is there?”

“Well, Remus always disappears for a couple hours during that ride, so….”

“Oh, yes. That meeting. Always terribly long and boring.” Then a thought struck her and she brightened. “We could cancel it! Or make it really, really short.”

“But then we wouldn't look very respectable, would we?”

“There's no hope for me, anyway.” She stood, tossing her drained cup into the trash bin. “I have to go.”

“Lunch date?” He blinked in the bright sunlight, looking up at her. “Bennington, isn't it?”

She nodded, feeling a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, though that was probably the remnants of the coffee doing its work on her.

“Me, too. Bridget and I are meeting up in a bit.” He stretched and stood up, stuffing various bits of parchment into his pockets.

“Right.” She lingered a moment, her mind wandering, before she realized that he was staring at her again with that indecipherable look on his face. “Well then, I'll see you later.” With those last parting words, Lily Disapparated, excited for her date with Thomas.

ooo

Lily looked up into Thomas's bright blue eyes and smiled when he reached out and held one of her hands loosely in his. “Thanks a lot. I had a nice time.” This was true, for the most part. Lily was rather good at telling little lies, the kind that never hurt anyone. This was that sort of lie. Thomas Bennington was a decent bloke, the kind Lily could have fun with. She thought that they were nothing serious. After all, in the course of one month they'd only gone on a few dates.

“Me, too.” His smile was shy, gentle, almost. They stood on her front step (a perfect gentleman, he had insisted on walking her back to her house- she privately thought that perhaps he was bollocks at Apparating).

“So.” She glanced down at her shoes, then back up at him. He was staring at her rather intently, too intently for her comfort.

“I'll owl you,” he said.

She nodded her head and felt a flash of happiness when he quickly brushed his lips against hers. “'Bye.” Lily smiled at him as he turned away. She stood on her step and watched him walk away from her, his strides long and easy. Then she opened her door and walked inside, mentally preparing herself to deal with her (usually) beloved family.

But what she found inside was nothing that she could have ever prepared herself for.

“Hello, out with Thomas, were you?”

“Lily, you didn't tell me that a friend was coming today.”

“Yes, what is a freak doing here?”

This tumult of voices greeted Lily the moment she walked into her living room; she paused mid-stride, trying to understand what was happening.

Fiona was seated on the couch, happily grinning up at her friend, while Lily's mother leaned against the doorjamb, curious and ever so polite. Petunia, the source of that scornful third voice, was perched in a chair opposite everyone, fingers bone-white from clutching a magazine in front of her face. Presumably, she didn't want to even look at Fiona. Lily felt a flash of embarrassment that her family should be so strange and unnecessarily rude, but, luckily, Fiona didn't seem fazed in the slightest. After dropping her house keys into the tray at the entrance, she said, “Mum - I didn't know that Fiona was coming. Mum and Petunia, this is Fiona. Fiona, meet Mum and my sister. Fiona, kindly ignore my sister - I expect that she's nervous because her new boyfriend is picking her up soon and otherwise, really, you'd never have met her at all, seeing as she has difficulty associating with my sort of people.” She took a deep breath. “Right. Fiona and I will be upstairs, then.”

“It was nice to meet you,” her mother called out, as Fiona stood up from the couch and followed Lily out of the room.

“Merlin,” Fiona breathed out when they got to Lily's bedroom. “You haven't really brought anyone over, have you?”

Lily shook her head, feeling herself flush a little red. “This is why. I need advance warning so that Tuney won't be around. And Mum just likes to know so that she can cook accordingly - she'll want you to stay for dinner. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was bored. And curious. And I realized that we hadn't seen each other for a bit and I'm terrible at writing letters, you know I am.” Fiona collapsed onto Lily's bed, spread-eagled on the baby blue coverlet.

“Piffle. I know for a fact that Isabella and Emmeline are around. Izzy said she saw you a couple days ago.” Lily sat down at her desk and picked up a stack of letters that she'd left behind this morning, rifling through them quickly. “And you told me that Logan was home this week. I thought you'd want to spend time with him.”

Fiona groaned. “He's boring. This is his only break from Auror training in over a year and all he wants to do is sleep and eat.” She rolled over, resting her chin on a pillow. “How was Thomas?”

“He's nice.” Lily yawned. The heat of mid-afternoon always made her sleepy. “I mean, I felt bad, because I was practically late thanks to Potter but thank Merlin for Apparition, you know?”

“Whoa, slow down.” Fiona pushed herself up and sat on the bed, regarding Lily intently. “What do you mean, Potter? You saw Potter?”

“Yeah, this morning. We had coffee.”

“Two boys in one day?” Fiona let out a low whistle. “My love, you're such a social creature these days.”

“What?” Lily stuffed the letters into her bag, resolving to look at them tomorrow…or the day after. “Erm, hang on…Fee! Saturday is the only day that I'm free - I'm working all the time now!”

“I don't get it. You don't exactly need the money.” It was true - her father was a renowned professor at Queen Mary and Westfield College; there was talk that he would be appointed head of the department either this year or next. The Evans family had never lacked for money.

“I know. But Aunt Margot talked to Mum and they think that working will give me a real sense of proportion. I think I'm supposed to feel more grateful about my family and Hogwarts or something.”

“That's a load of bollocks. I bet this mysterious Aunt Margot couldn't find anyone else that wanted to work for her.”

“Yes, well, I like working with flowers.” Lily swiveled around in the chair and faced her best friend. “So you've been at home, what, watching your big brother laze the summer days away?”

“Pretty much.” Fiona jiggled her foot, saying, “But you're changing the subject on me. What happened with Potter? What could've possessed you to have coffee with Potter?”

“It was school stuff, to be honest. He's taking this job rather seriously.”

“Potter? Serious? Bollocks!” Fiona repeated.

“No, really.” Lily laughed. “If anything, I'm the slacker in this working partnership.”

“Lily Evans!” Fiona cried, her stern attitude rather ruined by the small pillow that she threw at the redhead. “The day you let Potter show you up - “

“He cares more than I do.” Lily picked up the pillow and hurled it back. “He wants to be Dumbledore's manslave. I have no intentions of following such orders.”

“Ah, disobedient, are you?”

“Yes, but Dumbledore persists in recruiting me despite my resistance.”

“It's perfect! You can be a spy!”

“I'm partaking in espionage, now? How so?”

“Think of all the potential blackmail on Potter and consequently the Marauders!” Now there was a wicked glint in Fiona's eye - Lily felt the vague stirrings of fright. When Fiona came up with plans…the last time she'd had one, Isabella had wound up in the hospital wing needing Skele-Gro for her entire leg, Emmeline had to replace her entire wardrobe because everything had burned, and Lily was stuck with electric green hair and a purplish tint to her skin for two weeks. Needless to say, these plans usually didn't work very well.

“I'm not sure this is a good idea…”

“Oh, c'mon - everybody loves the Marauders!” Fiona fell back onto the bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. “We could actually get some dirt on them! You would be…Mata Hari! You could be on the inside, have exclusive information that we could use mercilessly! We'd go down in Hogwarts history. Don't you want to be famous?”

“No, you want to be famous, love. Can't we just have a nice quiet year ahead of us? I thought the idea was to be single and happy, the four of us together.”

“But we could have adventure! Fame! Fortune!”

“What shall we use this fame for?” Lily swiveled back and forth, smiling, idly running a hand through her hair. She caught a glimpse of the two of them in the mirror: two girls, of middling height, one tanned and blonde; the other pale and red-haired. But Lily thought they were still rather identical in a fashion, both young and happy, lazing around on a golden summer afternoon. Sunlight streamed through her sea-green curtains, lending Fiona a certain fuzzy shine around her hair.

“For finding boys, of course!”

“You're just a little too obsessed, you know that?”

“What?”

“Nobody's ever going to be extraordinary enough to live up to your tastes.”

“Well, is Thomas extraordinary?”

“Erm…”

“I rest my case.”

“I wasn't aware that we were in court.”

“It's a metaphorical case, my love.”

“Fee, I just don't know him well enough to judge yet - “

“Bollocks! I only dated Julian for a month and a half. How long have you known Thomas?”

“Does school count? Because then it's like 8 years, really. And you ought to stop using that word, it's getting repetitive. But I'm not as outrageously exacting as you are and -”

“What is he even doing with himself these days? You never said. Can I also point out that you two never spoke at school?”

“Will you stop interrupting me already? He's training as a Cursebreaker, but he also tried out for Reserve Chaser for Puddlemere.”

“But he was a terrible Chaser! Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw all the time because of him.”

“I don't really know. I'm not exactly good at Quidditch or anything.”

“Lily, you should just get rid of him already. You know, I think I might have been responsible for breaking his arm in a match once. Anyway, if you don't know by the 3^rd date - “

“We're not even doing anything, really! It's not official or anything. It's just a summer distraction, that's all. I'm not like you - not every bloke has to be one that could possibly carry my babies in a couple years.”

“That's not what I'm looking for!”

“Liar!” Lily chucked a wadded paper ball (the remnants of James' letter reminding her about the meeting from the night before) at the other girl, hitting her in the arm. “You want what Frank and Alice have, admit it!”

“Don't you?” They both sighed, thinking of that golden couple from three years back. Frank Longbottom and Alice Prewett had come back to seventh year already engaged and glowing with happiness, already planning for the future and their potential children. They'd been the golden couple, the two people that everyone else envied. They'd been dating since fourth year - everyone expected them to stay together for the rest of their lives. While Lily wasn't much for forethought and planning, the thought of Frank and Alice made her (and everyone else's) heart ache with just a little twinge of longing.

“Okay, well a little bit,” Lily admitted, thinking of Alice's happy smile.

“And Bennington isn't it.”

“Well, it's worth a shot, isn't it?”

“M'love, not him, please.” Fiona rolled off the bed and started to slowly pace around the room, staring at the walls that had been painstakingly decorated by a nine-year-old Lily.

“It's nothing serious, Fee, just let it go, will you?”

Fiona grunted, which Lily took to mean assent. Then the blonde said brightly, “You busy tonight?”

“Uh, not really.” Lily was wary.

“Great! Let's go into the city - we don't have to go to Diagon, we can stick to Muggle London if you like. And McKinnon's throwing a party. And, Logan was telling me about some bar he really likes.”

“But I've been out all day already -“

“Yes, but how often do you get to see me?” Fiona turned and batted her eyelashes coquettishly at Lily, who rolled her eyes.

“I see you every day for nine months of the year, you know.”

“I meant the summer. C'mon, you don't even need to change,” Fiona said. Lily looked down at what she was wearing - a white pleated skirt and a green camisole. Compared to Fee's short pink sundress, Lily looked a bit…boring. Normal? She wasn't sure what the right word was. “Li-leeeeeeeeeeeeee…”

“Ah. You're getting a bit desperate for company, are you?”

“Li-leeeeeeeeeeeee……you're killing me here.”

“But what about dinner with my Mum?”

“You don't' really want to eat with your family, do you?”

“Erm, no, but -“

“Nope. No buts.” Fiona grinned.

Lily sighed, mildly exasperated. “Oh, all right. Only because it's you.”

“You're a wonderful person. Saving me from my misery -“

“Boredom?”

“- and all that.”

“Pray tell, what have we been doing since you got here?”

“Been boring. You talk too much. About a boring bloke. It's twice as boring.”

“Potter?”

“No, Bennington, of course!”

“Oh, all right. Let's go. We'll find you someone you deem more interesting, okay?”

“Yessss!!” Fiona grabbed Lily's arm and practically manhandled her out the door.

“Wait, let me grab my purse and - Fee! Gerroff!”

“Hurry up! You're worse than Isabella!”

“You have the patience of a tiny little yappy dog sometimes, you know that?”

“…That's a retarded insult. You should work on those.”

“Mpf! Do you want me to come or not?”

“I apologize. Can we go now?”

“Just let me tell my mom that -“

“Mrs. Evans! Lily and I are going shopping!” There was silence from downstairs. Presumably, Lily's family had left while she and Fiona were talking. Oh well. “I'll take that as consent from her. She really is a lovely woman, by the way.”

“You talked to my -“

“Mother? Of course! Parents love me!” Fiona flashed her a shiny white grin. “Can we go can we gocanwego now?

“Yes, you impatient idiot.” With that, Lily let Fiona do a Side-Along Apparition number on her, putting her life into her best friend's (hopefully capable) hands. With a bit of luck, perhaps Fiona would finally find a bloke and then she would stop pestering Lily about Thomas. Because Lily would never admit it, but Fiona's opinion truly mattered to her, and her dislike of Thomas was beginning to rub off on her.

ooo

August 24, 1977

Lily liked mornings. She was what people usually (and often with more than a dash of irritation) called a “morning person.” She was more alert, happier, and better at focusing.

However, today, on this particular Sunday morning, she was emphatically not anything of the sort. In fact, if queried today, she would have been one of those irritated people who were not morning people. Lily stumbled off her bike and into the back of Aunt Margot's shop, wincing at the bright sunlight that filtered through the greenhouse glass. She'd biked because she didn't want to risk splinching in the face of fatigue and a mild hangover.

“Lily dear, I called you this morning to see if you could come in early,” Aunt Margot said without even looking up from the plant that she was working with. Lily rather thought that Professor Hawking would have liked her.

“Sorry,” Lily mumbled, before heading to her corner of the shop. A stack of orders that needed to be recorded and filed awaited her. “I guess that Mum didn't pass on the message.” There really hadn't been time, though - Lily had overslept, and if her father hadn't come in with a question she'd never have woken up at all. Then again, Lily thought, Mum had never really liked Margot. Margot was Lily's father's older sister, and the siblings had always been close. Privately, Lily thought that they looked very much alike, with their sandy hair, wide-set brown eyes, and a thin blade of a nose.

“Actually, Petunia was the one who picked up the phone,” Margot commented absently.

“Oh. That explains it.” Lily opened a thick notebook and started in on the number-crunching, squinting at the words. Harriet Jones - 2 Sunrise Bouquets for August 27^th. Richard Ellison - 3 Romance Bouquets for August 26^th…

They'd been working in silence and the occasional mumbling before Lily was startled by the sound of her aunt's voice. “So you'll be starting school soon, hmm?” Margot said, her hands moving quickly as she put together a complicated bouquet. She had tried to teach Lily the art of flower-arranging, but Lily had only managed a couple of simple arrangements so far.

“Yeah.”

“It's your last year, your dad was telling me. Any thoughts about your future?”

Lily generally hated this question. Because she hadn't really had an answer before. But it was a lazy Sunday morning and Lily liked the peace that came with working in a closed shop, so she said vaguely, “One of my teachers is suggesting that I go into this field. It's kind of complicated, but it involves creating spells.” At first, Lily's parents had tried to hide their daughter's magic from the rest of the family, fearing that everyone else would react the way that their elder daughter had. But then Margot had burst into Lily's room to surprise her for her thirteenth birthday, finding Lily grappling with a textbook for Care of Magical Creatures that was attempting to bite her head off. Yeah. That pretty much clinched Margot's suspicion that her niece was something strange. Lily and her parents had been forced to come clean, but Margot had actually taken it rather well, even if she was initially wary.

“Oh?” Margot said, looking up at her niece for the first time. “This teacher…they think you'd be good at this…spell creating?”

“Well, I guess so.” Lily bent over her work, frowning at the order forms. Had the writing always been so cramped? It always seemed to her that George's handwriting was needlessly messy. “She gave me books to read and stuff.”

“And have you been reading them?” Margot knew Lily too well.

“Erm…a bit, actually. They're surprisingly interesting,” Lily found herself saying. It was true - she had started skimming through the first one on McGonagall's list but something had actually caught her eye. The concept of weaving spells and to get them to draw from the strength of objects you imbued…not everything was about sheer power - sometimes you could work your way around your limitations.

“So do you think you'll do what your teacher suggests?” Aunt Margot asked, finishing the bow on the arrangement and starting another.

“I honestly have no idea,” Lily said, putting the last order form away and closing the book. It was time to start in on the plants that she'd been carefully cultivating. Aunt Margot grew all of her flowers herself, in the back of the shop and at her house - to be entrusted with a couple of pots was an honor, Lily knew. “I mean, things are…complicated, in the world that I'm living in. I'm sure Dad has mentioned something to you.”

“Oh. Yes, well he did mention some...political tension?” Margot's eyebrows came together in a confused frown.

Lily paused before shrugging. “Something like that.” She didn't really want to get into all the finer points - she'd been reading the Daily Prophet a lot recently, and she didn't like what she was reading.

“I see.” Lily knew her aunt didn't. But what was the point of explaining? She glanced at the clock - her shift was almost up. When she finished, she decided, she'd go home and take a nap.

Eventually, Fiona had found a bloke (a tallish, vaguely attractive boy that was surely several years older than her), but it had been near midnight before this had actually occurred. In the meantime, the two girls had ordered wine and a light supper at a nice hole-in-the-wall restaurant and proceeded to simultaneously shop and wander Diagon and the Muggle area thereof before they went to a party that Marlene McKinnon had put together. Lily always enjoyed these excursions - at school, the four of them were always together, making it difficult to talk properly about anything that truly mattered. But in the summers, she got the chance to write and see everyone on an individual basis.

“Lily?” She looked up from her musings to find Margot standing in front of her, one hand on a hip, the other wrapped around a potted plant. “You're done for the day. Is Thomas coming to pick you up?” For the last couple weeks, Thomas had thoughtfully come and walked her home, or taken her out to lunch.

“Not today - I saw him yesterday.” She started to gather her things and clean up her workspace. It was one o'clock - on Sundays, Lily, her aunt, and her aunt's assistant George worked in the shop taking care of things from the week before and preparing for the next. Everyone finished at one and went home.

“Oh. Well.” Her aunt moved to set the plant down and straightened, wiping her hands on her faded jeans. “Shall we have lunch, then, you and I?” She turned her head and waved at George, who smiled agreeably and sauntered out of the shop, grabbing his coat on the way.

Lily thought for a second, then shrugged. “Sure.” She could postpone her nap - it would be nice to eat with Aunt Margot. She hadn't actually done it for awhile - with this newfound power of Apparition, she'd been shamelessly using it to get around. Petunia had snidely hinted that Lily was carrying around a couple extra pounds, but then again, her older sister spent a lot of time hinting things.

“Lovely.” Margot slipped on a jacket and cast her eye around the shop, taking inventory and calculating what she needed to do the next day. “Let's go, then.”

Lily nodded agreeably, following her aunt out the door. Yes, lunch would be nice. Not seeing Thomas today would also be a nice thing, something in the back of her mind thought.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed it - let me know in a review?

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Sorry, guys. Portkey is not being great about formatting (everything comes out in error and IÕve tried multiple formats over the last half hour). If interested, the story is posted at the Unknowable Room at http://unknowableroom.org/3178/1/ . I wish I could post it here, but I guess Microsoft Word just doesnÕt work well.