Lily Evans

Dorcas just didn’t say anything, choosing to raise an eyebrow at her friend. Lily might try to deny it, but it did feel final to Dorcas. Ever since they’d graduated Hogwarts the offer for the two of them to live together had been there. It had made sense. Lily was really one of the only people that knew what she was going through. Yet, in more recent times Dorcas felt like her friend was pulling away from her. She didn’t like it. They’d all been through so much lately, and so she knew it wasn’t fair to get upset at Lily over something so trivial as where they lived. But, Dorcas couldn’t help it. 

And it all came down to the fact of who exactly Lily had came to live with. “And it didn’t make sense to maybe stay in the one place where those things were….” Dorcas mused, before she lifted up her coffee mug, and took a sip. She knew she was being petty, but she didn’t trust Severus. And it hurt that Lily had picked him over her, especially with all the past. Lily might have been able to forgive him, but Dorcas hadn’t, and she would not forget either.

When she’d sat down, she’d wondered how long it would take Lily to admit whom she was staying with. She’d already worked it out. She didn’t know the precise location, but she knew that Severus had lived some where in Cokeworth.

“I know. I’d already worked that out.” 

She knew. Dorcas knew already, and hadn’t exploded on her. Maybe—maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, then. There was disappointed behind her best friend’s eyes, sure, but Lily could handle that.        She was well versed in managing disappointment.

“Rosier, ah, discharged me from the infirmary into Snape’s care. It was the only way I was going to get out of there, and, well, if I didn’t get out of there Rosier would have run himself ragged, you should have seen him, Doe, he was a mess enough with Selwyn being laid up—” She was rambling, as if talking fast enough would get them past this rough spot quicker, like she could bore right through it with her words and nothing would go wrong. “So I couldn’t stay, but I’m still not really well,” and that was probably low of her, bringing up the ‘near death experience’ thing, but the desperation was clawing at her throat a bit now, “and you’ve got so much going on with work and all already, and Severus has the healery knowledge, so it made sense, really.”

Remus smiled as her hand fit into his and squeezed. He squeezed right back, letting out a sigh that was part relief, part his own tiredness. He knew it wasn’t fair to rely on her to reassure him of anything at this point when it should be the other way around, but it was difficult not to spiral otherwise. “Why, thank you, maybe I’ve picked up on some healer pointers over the years,” he joked right back, a poor excuse of a tease, though it managed to put a fleeting smile over his lips just the same.

When Lily asked about what really happened, he paused, thumb tapping against her hand absentmindedly to guide his thoughts. “I mean, a lot happened. How much time you got?” He snorted out a chuckle, quickly shaking his head to let her know she didn’t have to answer that jest. “I don’t even know where to start. I took our kids out with Lucinda and Reggie. Reggie almost got slashed by the father, bloke had a knife to his neck. I reckon things were that hectic everywhere, though.”

He was sure she wanted to hear about the people she cared about first. For that, James was the first name to pop into his head. The dragon. He shook the thought out with a clear of his throat. “Uh, who else, I don’t know. Peter was a bit shaken up but okay in the end, he did great. Severus was on the field with me, I had to trust them to hold down the fort while I went into the house to help save the kids. Worked out well in the end.”

“All those times at Marauders’s bedsides when you were the sensibly unscathed one,” she carried on the teasing before lapsing back into quiet—the thought of any of the boys laid up in bed, even if only from a poorly thought out and executed prank, hewed too close to painfully real like possibilities with much more lasting consequences than Pomfrey’s scolding and a few weekends of detention. She didn’t want to linger on it longer than necessary.

Lily didn’t vocalize a response, but gave a little shrug meant to encompass the bed she was laid up in and her general malaise that meant she probably had a lot of empty time for recovery ahead of her. Her grip on Remus’s hand tightened as he spoke about knives and necks and the uncomfortable proximity of the two for Reginald (thought Lily couldn’t image herself having that different of a reaction if it had been her suddenly assaulted by things she couldn’t understand or fathom—that Reginald hadn’t gotten stabbed was blind luck.)

The absences from Remus’s list of people weren’t hard to figure out. Not that Lily would expect or ask Remus to know anything about Sirius (some wounds still loomed too raw and angry, and she no longer trusted herself to not make things worse, let alone help at all), but the other—

Dorcas tended to not visit establishments where it was so obvious that she was not welcome. And if she did, she didn’t stay long. Today was an exception, and the only reason she was staying was because of Lily. She trusted her friend to not put her in a situation where she would come to harm. So, she could put up with a few moments of feeling awkward, if only for Lily. Of course, that meant that she had to hold her tongue, which was near impossible for Dorcas. But she would try.

It didn’t mean she was happy though, and she hoped that Lily could get that without her having to say that. She didn’t want to have to vocalise how shit it was to not be accepted in a literal coffee shop. it was a coffee shop. Nobody could feel awkward about coming into a coffee shop because of something they could not control.

“Just about….” She mused with a little laugh, shaking her head. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend. The way that Lily spoke about stopping cluttering up her storage space seemed very final. “Seems final…” She mused, clearly probing into the meaning behind her friend’s words. “You and your things will always have a place in my house.” and the sooner her friend realised it made sense to just move in, the better.

 “It’s not final,” Lily said too quickly, the rush to reassure her friend over...well she wasn’t quite sure, but that feeling of apology tickled her tongue and sat heavy in her stomach. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know.” She made a valiant attempt at joking, giving Dorcas a teasing smile. It felt flat and pushier than she meant—she’d blame that tension in the air that she couldn’t avoid feeling right now. Was Susie watching them from the front counter? Undoubtedly.

“But I figured if I was staying in one place for a while, I might need some of those things, and better to have them to start than bother you randomly when I find I need them at some ungodly hour—” The words started to pile up on top of each other as she headed down the path of the inevitable reveal, and she realized her half-baked plan of carefully introducing Dorcas to the idea was already backfiring because it was obvious, they were in Cokeworth, and it couldn’t only be the guilty that had the claxions in her mind screaming Dorcas Knows!

(Why had she ever thought it would go any other way, she didn’t know. Dorcas was too good of a Hit Witch to not have put it together already, surely.)

—

As nice as this all was Dorcas didn’t like it. She was used to little coffee shops, and small towns and villages. She had grown up in a tiny village after all. But she’d never felt welcome there, never felt like she belonged there. She wasn’t the right fit, and a lot of people hadn’t wanted her to fit it. She remembered a lot of memories of children being told to avoid her. it had been a lonely childhood, until she had started going to Hogwarts. Of course, a magical school hadn’t changed the fact that her home village had been horrid. It made it easier, but didn’t make her forget.

So, sitting in this little café was slightly traumatic as it reminded her so much of the cafes at the village. But she was doing this for Lily. She loved her best friend enough to let the trauma come up. Because if she was honest, so many of the associated feelings of not belongingly still came up in so many places in London, and Dorcas had had to get used to the feelings. It sucked, but it was life.

She didn’t have to be happy to be here though. And, she was probably going to remind Lily that if she didn’t like places like this. She might come here for Lily, but it did not mean she had to be happy about it. When she saw her best friend, she forced a smile onto her face. She was happy to see if Lily after all, especially now that she really did look better. 

“Depends how you define trouble.” She mused with a shrug, as she stood up, to hug her friend. She squeezed her, holding on tight for a few moments, before she sat down. “Depends if you consider the owner looking me up and down like I was going to rob the place trouble or not…..” She continued, as she sat down and took a sip of her coffee. She spoke about it casually, like it didn’t really matter, even though, it was mattered a huge deal to her.

“It’s good to see you though Lils.” 

The worst part? Lily can see it, picture it in her mind; sweet, grey-haired, grandmum-to-everyone Susie giving Dorcas a long, wary, and half-frightened look with a bit of a sneer, and somehow it’s not even surprising or out of place on the frame of this woman she has known her whole life. It twists something painful in her stomach and makes her feel a bit ill in a way she can’t blame on the lingering nausea.

She should have waited, rather than do this to Dorcas.

Apologizing now, too late and for the world, wouldn’t help or even go over well, so she restricted herself to an extra squeeze of her friend before sliding into the seat opposite, her hands curling around the second cup.

Lily waits until her headache passes and her hands don’t shake around her cup of tea before she writes back, so she doesn’t have to lie to a man with more than enough on his plate when she writes

I’m doing much better. Severus has been a stern nurse, making me rest and not allowing me to do anything to strenuous. Really, I think I’m completely in the clear at this point, just a bit tired and needing to catch up on sleep, but he’s enjoying the fussing. (Don’t tell him I said that.)

You’ve certainly earned a holiday. Sev and Emmeline will handle everything, short of perfect without you, but they’ll limp along. Don’t worry about me.

James doesn’t need to know. And just like that, his betrayal was locked in. He couldn’t take it back, now, but… he didn’t want to. There was something of a reprieve that came with Lily’s agreement that, no, James didn’t need to know, that she would keep that secret for him. Because, maybe, that meant that their relationship, their friendship could be salvaged, after all. She had shown up, hadn’t she? And she had agreed to keep it all quiet, to keep it between them - a promise between friends, Sirius thought, the word ever applicable to Lily now, after years wrought with tension.

Sirius turned to face Lily as she moved to sit on the bed. She had a point - didn’t she always? - and his brows tugged together in frustration as he considered her words. They couldn’t just start an all out war in the streets, and they didn’t know the faces of their enemies. Sirius had suspicions - of course he did - growing up in Pureblood society, surnames he placed on a shortlist of potential Death Eaters. But, they didn’t have anything concrete, and leave it up to Lily to point that out to him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. “I don’t. You know I’ve got ideas. We’ve all got ideas of who they could be. But, I don’t know how to find out for sure.” He shook his head, lips momentarily pursing as he sifted through his words. “If I did, I’dve done it already and we’d be closer to being done with this bloody war.”

But the fact remained, Sirius didn’t know, and that’s where Lily came in. She had ideas where Sirius fell flat, and he had learned that they worked surprisingly well in tandem. Her skills and thoughts complemented his well, and Sirius appreciated that she was as bright as she was. She brought a lot to the table. Together, he hoped they could come up with something.

“There’s just…gotta be something more we can do to - I don’t know - get the upper-hand for once. We’ve been too bloody passive for too long. So if you’ve got ideas, I’m listening.”

If ideas were galleons, they’d all be disgustingly rich. And if certainty was sustenance, they would have starved long ago. Twisting her fingers in the fabric of the blanket covering the bed, Lily exhaled around a grimace. This wasn’t going to be easy or pleasant.

Nothing new there.

“They’re so careful about their identities,” she started to lay out, knowing he’d get impatient with her quickly, but needing to build this up. “It’s all the ‘knowing the right people’ and ‘believing the right thing’ of Pureblood society layered on top of... whatever makes someone want to start murdering people over their blood, and how they recognize that in each other—” Another breath to reign herself in before the anger started spiraling. “If there’s a way to find out from the outside, we’d have done it by now, but we don’t have a way to get inside.” Sirius was clever, how soon before he realized where this was going and cut her off, shut her down?

“We need someone who has been on the inside.” Which gave them limited options, most of which were dead ends. There had to be reasons why Severus and Selwyn hadn’t already given them names, reasons that came from way over LIly and Sirius’s heads in this, and as frustrating as the limits in place were, Lily doubted going head to head against them (against Dumbledore) would do them any favors. “We need someone who hasn’t been hemmed in by the Order and the way we’ve been doing things, and someone who doesn’t have so much to lose by sharing what they know.”

A deep breath, nails digging into her palm through a layer of twisted fabric, a bit lip as shoulders squared against the coming wave of whatever reaction Sirius was going to have, but it wasn’t going to be good.

He helped her with the water, watched as she slowly took them, deliberate in her movements in the way only an injured person would ever have to be. She began to answer his question, but then hesitated, considering. Ted didn’t jump in or try to ‘save her’ from her thoughts. Not only did Lily Evans not really need saving - she was no damsel-in-distress - he also was patient. Sometimes his questions of people were heavy, deep, and they needed more time. As someone who usually took a lot of time in his own speaking, he could understand that.

As well as can be hoped for, she finally landed, and Ted could hear all the things she wasn’t saying underneath. Mmm, he made a sound of understanding, his lips turning up just slightly at the corners when she said she might even be feeling better now than before. So Potter did do something right, after all.

Ted sighed wearily at the question and moved the water cup to the tray on the side of the cot again so he could sit back, crossing his arms over his question. That was a loaded question - a hard one, in fact. It had been discussed, yes, but it was unlikely either of him would ever know what happened to those families. What path they’d decided to take. “McGonagall has taken over from here,” he told her. “They’ll have options, as would anyone. But they’ll remain in the safe houses until they’ve made their choices. I’m not sure we will… ever truly know what happened to them after this.”

He gave her a sad, soft smile. “I know that’s important to you, Lily,” he said. “And I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer.”

The better answers, the ones that were good enough—no one was capable of giving her those because they simply weren’t possible. And yet, ‘McGonagall has taken over from here’ fell so painfully short of even adequate as far as answers went. ‘They’d have options’—but what sort and would any of them really be a choice in the end? Or just the bare minimum difference between possible survival and possible survival. It wasn’t enough, and the enormity of that ‘not enough’ burned in the hollow of her chest.

Ted couldn’t help any of that, though, so Lily returned his smile with one softened with resignation. “That’s all right. I’ll... I’ll talk to McGonagall when I can. And... and maybe Jones and Alastor.” She pursed her lips together for a second. “We half to do more. We haven’t been doing enough and we, we need to be better.”

Be better. Stop falling into the half-desperate complacency that had gripped them for more than a year, wake up, face facts, and be better. Enough excuses.

Where: Muggle Coffee Shop, Cokeworth 

When: Mid-afternoon, 29th 

Who: Dorcas and @asphodelroot

Dorcas did not like this coffee shop. Lily better love her, because that was the only reason why she was sitting in this coffee shop. She’d been to Cokeworth plenty of times, and yet, she still felt like she didn’t really fit in. She supposed she should be grateful it wasn’t a pub that Lily had wanted to meet up in. She’d gotten some nasty looks as she’d walked in, ordered two coffees, and sat down, but she hadn’t felt like she was unsafe, just unwanted. At least they’d served her. That was a positive when compared against some of the other places that members of the Order had taken her too. Some of her friends just didn’t understand the difficulties she faced in places like this, and Dorcas was too used to just letting it slide, rather than kicking up a fuss. 

She settled into the table, away in the corner. She’d be less noticeable here, and hopefully wouldn’t get too many stares from the other coffee drinkers. She was excited to see Lily though, and make sure she was okay. The things that Lily had asked her to bring made her slightly concerned that Lily intended on staying a little longer here in Cokeworth. She knew vaguely about her best friend’s pas tin Cokeworth, and her mind had jumped to just exactly whom she might be staying with. She knew that Lily knew she was always welcome. And so the fact that she’d decide to stay with Snape rather than her was hurting her, even when she was only assuming it right now. But she loved Lily too much to not offer help, especially when she had almost hurt.

So despite the hurt that had already settled in her heart, when Lily had asked, she had come. 

After the scolding she’d gotten for her ill-advised trip to the Prewett Estate a couple days ago, Lily had known that she would have to have Dorcas meet her in Cokeworth. Nevermind the creeping unease subjecting her best friend to the homogeneous atmosphere of the town, and the ‘otherness’ it probably evoked, the guilt for the awareness of her friend’s difference in this place—maybe she could pretend that was the only guilt churning in her stomach.

Mostly able to dodge the curious greetings and questions that would have drawn her into the longer conversations she wouldn’t be able to avoid for much longer, Lily was only a couple minutes late to arriving to the coffee shop. It was a cozy and welcoming place, the decor aiming for what passed for classy elegance in Cokeworth, but Lily’s more worldly eyes now saw as a comfortably kitschy middle-class pastiche of poshness. Still, Susie’s (which was not the name of the coffee shop but was what everyone inevitably called it, after the owner, the actual name largely forgotten despite being proudly displayed over the shop door) was the best place for a casual coze, and the safest place Lily could think of in town, short of a house she knew Dorcas would rather riot over than visit.

Which was part of Lily’s problem.

But maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as all that, she thought as she headed towards the back of the shop after giving Susie a quick greeting and being told her friend was already waiting. Maybe she was overthinking and not giving her friend enough credit. Maybe it would be fine. (As fine as everything else in her life.)

She told him it wasn’t easy and, sure, that was true - but James knew she could have been getting angrier with him, holding him accountable. Instead, she was letting him off the hook and giving him reasons he was being like this. Like he’d been lately with most people. He gave her a soft, sad look at her words before focusing on their clasped hands, her vibrant green eyes too intoxicating to keep his gaze on.

He looked back up, however, when she said his name and began to shift. James shifted with her, his hand not holding hers fluttering in the air around her as though to suck out her pain with it. She pulled him close in the way she could - both her hands holding his, bringing them nearer, and saying words that he’d been longing to hear for months. 

I love you because you are so good.

I love you.

James sucked in a breath, swallowed hard. “You - you love me?” he asked her, his voice quivering with hope and fear and everything in between. He’d known it, of course. He known that her ending things wasn’t because of lack of love… of course, it had festered in him anyway. The what ifs. Wondering if, while he was gone, she’d fallen out of that love for him. And just maybe… if Severus Snape had taken that place in her heart.

But knowing it - wondering about it - and hearing it felt different. Right now, he could say it back. He could tell her he loved her too. He could lean in to kiss her and then maybe they could fall into something more again. He glanced up, at Emmeline, who was watching them from not too far away, and back down at Lily. He remembered what he’d told Emme only weeks before… about understanding Lily in a way that probably didn’t make sense. 

And he knew that wouldn’t have been fair.

Lily didn’t want this anymore. She might’ve loved him, but she didn’t want to be with him because being with him put them both at a bigger risk. And, while James didn’t agree with it, he also wasn’t as selfish as people thought him to be. He knew that, if he allowed himself to get in that bed with her, to rekindle what they had, he would be disrespecting her in a way that no one else would understand. “You don’t have to answer that,” he told her, stopping from her saying more. “Don’t answer it,” he amended, telling her instead of giving her an option. “I should go… the meeting… it’ll be over soon. I - “

He broke off, his voice cracking, wavering again. His resolve breaking. He needed to get the fuck out of here before it was too late. “I’ll try to be better. Good again.”

The doubt in his voice cut through her in the sweetest, most ache-inducing way possible, all the way down to the deepest parts of her, the place where that love had been so carefully, painstakingly tucked away. Jealously guarded, masochistically fed, poorly contained, a constant drive that allowed her to keep going—though if he could doubt that she loved him, even for a second, perhaps she had contained it too well.

Lily could see the conflict flashing just behind James’s eyes; the war with himself that she knew all too well. Weren’t her own battlefield littered with the scars of the same fights? The struggle between what she wanted, more than anything in this world, and what she needed. There was still the crater from the moment those two had stopped being the same thing. Lily knew him, and she understood him, and she could see all the ways this could end.

She wasn’t surprised when he started to pull away.       —Her heart might have cracked all the same.

Lily was tough, Sirius knew that. She was strong and resilient, and could handle most things that came her way just fine. But Sirius still allowed his eyes to roam over Lily’s form as she stood near the door, taking her in and briefly reassuring himself that she really was fine. She was there, standing, alive and breathing and okay, despite the injuries she’d incurred, and that was relief enough. Because, really, the thought of losing her after having not spoken to her for months was one that he didn’t want to entertain.

Sirius’ eyes found Lily’s again after a brief moment, and he offered a half shrug in response. “I’ve had worse.” He’d been fortunate on the Wiltshire mission to only have received minor injuries from the traps and the Fiendfyre they’d encountered. The rest of the team hadn’t been quite as lucky in escaping unscathed. “I’m just glad it was all actually a success. Or, mostly.” The families and the children were all okay, and that had been the goal of the mission, regardless of the shitshow it had turned into.

His gaze flitted over Lily once more - ensuring her okayness - before it dropped to the floor between them, and a hand came up to brush back loose strands of hair from his face. Sirius considered his words, as he actually hadn’t given the conversation much thought aside from inviting Lily to speak with him again. He didn’t know where to start - how did one begin to recoup the loss of such an important relationship? 

He wasn’t one to readily admit his mistakes, being far too prideful, but it had been a mistake, hadn’t it? Cutting Lily out like he had had. He’d needed to, unable to toe the line between her and James, after she’d broken James’ heart. But, she was important to him, and he had realized that not only did he want Lily in his life, but he needed someone like her.

Sirius let out a huff of a sigh after a moment, and he pushed himself up to stand and face Lily. “Look,” he started, fitting a hand in the pocket of his jeans, unsure of what to do with his hands, “James doesn’t know about this. Us talking. And I wanna keep it that way.” Guilt briefly flared in his chest. It felt like a betrayal to his best mate, meeting with her in secret, keeping things like this from him. But, it felt necessary - James didn’t need to know. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, or at least that’s how Sirius saw it, and hurting James was the last thing he wanted to do.

“But, I’ve been thinking. And…” He paused, another huff falling from between parted lips as he sifted through his words. “We need to do something. The Death Eaters– Yeah, the mission was fine, but it was fucked, y’know? I mean, you almost…” He shook his head, brows briefly tugging together. “It was all just fucked. They’re fucking us up over and over again, and they’ve had the upper-hand for too long, and we’re not doing enough.”

Sorry wasn’t a common word in Sirius’ vocabulary, childhood manners sometimes lost on him. So, instead, he said to Lily, “I need your help.”

James doesn’t know. James didn’t need to know. Sirius didn’t want James to know. (Know what?) That they were talking. That they were friends, beyond the glue that was James holding everything together. That they could get along, work together, accomplish things, despite all the shattered pieces of heart that made walking around anything Marauders a fraught undertaking. Or maybe Sirius didn’t want James to know that that he needed someone besides him. Whatever it was Sirius didn’t want James to know, he wanted Lily to keep the secret and hide away.

Was it a fair thing to ask of Lily? No. Was it a kind thing to ask her to do? No. Was Lily going to say any of that to Sirius?

No.

Besides. “Fair” and “Kind” weren’t words to apply to Sirius Black. Even those who loved him best would be hard pressed to find a way to make them stick to him. He was loyal, he was passionate, he was the first to laugh and the last to leave, he was a thousand and one wonderful, amazing, positive things—and he was incredibly biased and viciously cruel. Loving him, Lily knew how he was, and she couldn’t really be surprised that he was asking her to be something shameful. Still shaking up, unsteady, from nearly losing him (losing everything, everyone, again), telling him no was the last thing she would do. So it was fine.

It was fine.

“James doesn’t need to know,” she agreed, her smile tight at the edges as she reassured him. Her fingers flexed, pressing the edge of her nails into skin. Would he pull away if she reached for a hug? She wasn’t ready to find out, didn’t want to know for certain where the lines were. While they stayed fuzzy, she could pretend. It would be enough that he needed her.

Stepping around him, Lily perched herself on the edge of the bed. She agreed with him. That went without saying, surely. But, “What more do you propose we do, Sirius? Even if we could go and start an all out fighting in the streets,” which they couldn’t. There were too many who would stop them, who would object, who didn’t want to understand what a war really meant—“Who would we be fighting? We don’t even know who they are, not for certain.” Her jaw tightened, teeth clenched for a moment. “How do we find out who they are?”

Evan had looked suspended between blowing up everything in the infirmary,  walking out of the Prewett family home and never returning, or falling over and sleeping for the next year when he’d checked Lily over a couple hours earlier. Lily didn’t need to the story to gather that the previous day had been even more unfortunate and stressful for him than for the rest of them. She made a point to listen to his instructions as closely as her spinning head would let her, nodding where appropriate and thanking him as he discharged her into Severus’s care for the next while with as much official formality as could be managed in their makeshift group of vigilantes.

         —She ought to send him a thank you note, later.

If it wasn’t for that fear of adding more to Evan’s already overfull plate, Lily might have insisted on taking a break in the entry room to try and settle her stomach before stepping into the Floo. (The success of that would have been debatable, with that awful chair the constant sentinel and eternal reminder of the worst of everything sitting there, waiting for the next time it was needed to catch some broken and bleeding body stumbling across the thresh hold.) But the thought of making Evan think he was discharging her before he ought to, no matter her protests that Sev would be perfectly capable of taking care of her, propelled her forward, leaning heavily on Severus’s shoulder as they stepped into the emerald flames together.

...you know, it was worrying that the bland porridge she’d been given for breakfast didn’t look any less appealing on it’s second appearance, splattered across the floor of the Snape family home. “Sorry,” Lily murmured weakly, letting Severus guide her over to the sofa, edging around the mess. Groaning, she curled up, knees drawn to her chest as she turned her head into the cushions, not even attempting to offer to help clean up. She was exhausted in a way she shouldn’t be after sleeping so much, her head was pounding against her skull, and she was mostly sure that Severus’s bookcases shouldn’t be moving like that, but who could tell with them sometimes?

Ted smiled kindly at her. “Nothing you should apologize for,” he said. “You were not the one who caused the headaches.” Or the deaths, he added silently to himself. Surely, Lily would know that many Muggles have already been declared dead or injured from the explosion - but that number was still growing with every hour that passed and he worried she wasn’t in the right headspace for the current death count.

“I think I’ll refrain from telling her that when I get home,” he replied honestly. Andromeda, of course, was rather cross with him already - and he doubted she’d want to hear about his infirmary shift unless there was gossip to be discussed. Joking with Lily wouldn’t count as such. “Emmeline is a fine young witch,” he continued. “But she’s untrained. We certainly needed Rosier today.” He didn’t comment that Lily would likely have not survived without the healer, though he suspected Lily herself would be able to guess once she learned of the extent of her injuries.

Yes, he definitely wouldn’t be telling Andromeda about Lily’s words. He could hear the I told you so now. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here at all,” he said and then sat up straighter, pulling his wand. “Of course.” He summoned a cup to him and tapped the edge. “Aguamenti,” he murmured and it filled with water. He passed it to Lily and then offered his hand to help her sit more comfortably to be able to drink.

After she was settled, he said quietly, “It’s been a while since we’ve talked. I hope you’ve been well.” It was an offering - an opening for her to discuss anything that made her unwell.

Lily didn’t know about the deaths. Not yet. Not consciously. The pieces were there—the quietly bustling street, a neighborhood so alive with early afternoon, warm summer activity, paired with ‘explosion’ and the severity of her own injuries. She had all the parts she needed to be able to draw the conclusion, but hadn’t allowed herself to think about it. Let her live in the calm of the storm, keep her burden of guilt a little lighter, for a little while longer,

Ted’s hand grounded her with its large warmth as he helped her sit upright enough so she didn’t spill water all over herself like the clumsy, uncoordinated toddler she felt a bit like right now. Her sips were slow and careful, the cool water sliding over strained muscles and warning her to not cough and make it worse.

The question made her pause, considering, swimming through the slow molasses of her mind ot give it proper thought. “I...” she started, only to inhale and bite at her lips for a second. This was Ted; this question meant something different coming from him, and a tiny handful of other people she could trust to be sincere in asking if she was well. Betraying that with a shallow lie—it was unthinkable.

“As well as can be hoped for.” Which wrapped up ‘We’re in a war’  and ‘People want me dead’ and ‘I’m the reason the love of my life was tortured for months’  and ‘I’m not sure I can count on my supposed allies in the ways that matter most’, in as small and tidy a package as it could ever get. Ted would understand it, she was sure. “Maybe even a little better than before.” After all, she and James had finally talked and heard and understood. Which didn’t make it easier or better, but might make it more bearable.

She would take whatever small silver linings she could scrap together.