don't spell it, feel it

There had been a time, not terribly long ago, that the sight of one Lily Evans when caught in a mood such as was current would have only worsened a disgruntled Sirius Black. Not terribly long ago, he couldn’t stand the young woman before him, draped in a sinister red curtain. She had been something of a nuisance - that which had somehow wormed its way between James and himself, hording far too much of James’ affections for itself. But, eventually, the idea of Lily Evans hadn’t been too terrible, too intolerable. She was alright, he thought with another short bark of laughter, head tossed back and arms coming up to cross over his chest.

“Merlin, I should’ve known! Bloody hell, it’s like you can’t trust anyone nowadays to not be in cahoots with those ruddy curtains!” He gave a large sweep of his arm towards the curtain wrapped around her, eyes narrowed with suspicion, lips curved with just a hint of playfulness. “The whole lot of you, betraying me for curtains, for some sodding drapery, of all things!” He feigned shock, horror - dramatics, the likes of which had yet to grace the gloomy castle halls. But the game was over as abruptly as it had began, ‘betrayal’ too suddenly once more at the forefront of his mind.

He shifted, half-shrugging a shoulder, and glanced about them - a habit, he supposed, of constant vigilance. The flower at their feet caught his attention, and he reached for it, recognizing it as one Lily’s - of course, he thought, amused. He examined her handiwork before holding it out on an open palm, a brow quirked. “Really? You’re buying into the whole ‘let’s decorate this dingy, awful castle to make ourselves feel better’ thing?” he asked, the teasing mockery evident in his crooked, smug grin and challenging gaze.

He considered her, briefly, before he snatched the flower back and instead tucked it into her hair, stepping back to admire his decorating. The game was, again, afoot. “Ah, there! The décor est très magnifique, now! The drapery - my god! - it’s perfect! Such a lovely shade of blood orange! The whole castle - the whole castle - feels uplifted. Merlin’s hairy scrotum, it’s a decorating miracle!”

Sirius and his dramatics. Lily could barely contain a laugh, was unsure if keeping up the ruse was even worth it. The curtains were welcoming bursts of color in an otherwise grey and hopeless environment, and the flowers brought something like life and movement, but Lily had missed this. It took some level of abandon to embrace sarcasm and wit, and that unique flair for theatrics that only Sirius Black seemed to manage. For all of her paper and charms, there was nothing that made up for her friends simply being her friends, something that was getting harder and harder to come by.

“Is it still betrayal, if I persuade you to see my side?” She started, but the words seemed to fade into a lost moment. The shift in the atmosphere was obvious; the theatrics were replaced with a half-shrug and a glance down otherwise empty hallways. Her grip on the curtains draped around her shoulders loosened, and her brow furrowed. It wasn’t hard to get lost in thoughts and worries and fears, but Lily had come to expect certain things from certain moments, and Sirius deflating mid-dramatics was not something she expected. She almost asked, almost let an ‘alright, Black?’ slip into the air between them, but he was leaning down to pick up the flower before she could manage it. She filed it way to ask after they’d settled from curtains and flowers.

She skipped offended (yes, decorating was doing loads for the morale, thank you very much, it’s not my fault you prefer dark and depressing), and instead allowed a grin to stretch across her lips, too bright. One hand toyed with the flower, now fluttering comfortably nestled in her hair, and the other dropped the drapes from around her shoulders entirely.

While Lily still seemed optimistic about the number of people at the pub increasing, Hestia had her doubts. People rarely came out to drink these days – and if they did, it wasn’t for the best of reasons. She couldn’t imagine all too many people coming out to drink. … even if it was to avoid the tragedy that surrounded them. There was too high of a chance that someone would attack, or that something would happen at home, or something else would get in the way. These days, people’s paranoia got the better of them. Hestia considered herself lucky (or perhaps willfully stupid – only time would tell) that she wasn’t as paranoid as some other people that she knew. “I hope so – I’m worried people have started to think staying home all the time is their only safe option.” She listened as Lily caught her up on how she was doing; it was good to hear that she was well, though her way of saying so wasn’t exactly the most convincing. Hestia knew that she worried too much for the wellbeing of others; she spent far too much time concerned with whether or not they were okay without spending nearly half as much considering her own state of mind. Still, the vagueness in Lily’s answer left Hesita wanting to know more. Whether or not she could (and would) pry in public, however, still remained largely a mystery. “All things considered, I suppose I’m alright myself. – but I’ve been spending far too much time busying myself with other people’s business than actually thinking about my own.” She offered Lily a small smile. “I’ve been writing for the Prophet. Trying to keep on top of current events, more for their sake than anything else. I’m having trouble finding something to write about that isn’t the war, y’know?” She shrugged. “How’s your family? They don’t know anything about this, do they?”

Staying at home might be the safest option, and Lily had to force the thought away before it could slip out into the air between them. With even the Order cowed into hiding, finding somewhere untraceable and resigning oneself to wait out the storm – whichever way it may blow – while far too unreasonable and cowardly for Lily herself, was almost understandably appealing. Finding an open stool at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron was hardly hiding, and Lily could admit that Hestia had a point; it was nearing empty, and there was a reason for it. The thought hadn’t deterred Lily, certainly not after far too many days spent wandering the castle halls with little else to do than pin up paper flowers. Some days she just needed dusty bars and a friend’s company.

“You need to spend time on you.” She spun the barstool to better face Hestia, eyes wide and earnest. It was far too easy to get lost in the war. Friends turned into enemies, peers and loved ones suffered or worse. There wasn’t enough kindness in the world, and those who still managed it had a tendency to give it to others more often than they gave it to themselves. Lily knew this all too well, and yet couldn’t seem to help it. “Merlin knows we have enough to deal with, we can’t forget to take care of ourselves. If we don’t, who will take care of the others?”

The name Trelawney meant different things to different people. Some revered it, and others scoffed. If you were familiar with the names’ legacy, it was unlikely that your reaction would be one of indifference, people were just far too fond of their own opinions for that. So Lily’s lack of a reaction meant either she was very good at keeping things to herself, or that the name meant nothing too her. More likely the latter, Sybill was sure that if her cafe companion was trying to hide emotions, she’d be able to tell.

But she had never been so concerned with the trappings of her last name as people may assume; yes, she laid claim to the gift of sight as her great great grandmother Cassandra had once done, and yes many people had renounced her elder as they now did Sybill. But people the world over carved out reputations based on their claims, whether they be about alternative magic or the tastiness of their particular apple pie recipe. 

It was hard to watch people react to the simple question these days, but she just couldn’t seem to stop asking it. There was always the chance she’d stumble upon a poor soul on the brink, someone who’d break and whisper no, no they weren’t okay and they needed help. So she asked everyone, even if the way it made aura’s constrict and flinch could hurt to see. “I’m glad. And yes I suppose I’ve been well too, as much as any of us can be these days. My herbs are growing healthily, which is always a good omen.”

Lily had never been one to put much stock in omens; although, dark and cloudy mornings had never boded well for her. For the longest time, superstition simply wasn’t practical in a world of swiftly advancing Science. Of course, this had all fallen by the wayside, when confronted with ghosts, and magic, and all things unexplainable. She’d learned to take it in stride, and accept that anything was truly possible. Still, she didn’t chart the stars, and while she may glance at the dregs of her tea from time to time, she never quite looked for shapes.

Her brow furrowed for only a swift moment before smoothing out once more, and her smile never left her face. Her gaze ducked down to her closed book, and up once more. “If gardens can still grow, then I suppose there’s hope yet.” She wished it were that simple. Things would be far easier, if she believed that only days that started dark and cloudy were destined to be dreary. They would be easier still, if there were quantifiable reasons for her to believe as such. Optimism often butted heads with realism in Lily’s mind, and some things she just couldn’t quite get behind.

“What do you grow, if you don’t mind my asking?” She steered the conversation away from the more serious. With her legs folded in the chair, Sybill didn’t look as though she’d be going anywhere soon, and Lily would have plenty of time to get to know the pressing questions without pushing for them outright. “Herbs can be useful in many potions, and I try to know as much as I can, but there’s always more to learn.”

Fabian had the good grace to look abashed as her eyes landed on the two boxes.  Nostalgia and an inability to locate what he needed much less make decisions about what could stay behind sounded like a poor excuse for his progress but it was no less true.  Spotting a pencil hanging out of the mouth of a feathered snake figurine, Fabian grabbed the pencil and threw it into one of the boxes.  There had been many such finds around the flat and there were undoubtedly other misplaced items about.  Molly was always telling him he was careless with his belongings but he wasn’t sure it was carelessness so much as being distracted.

“You’re a godsend, Lily!  I’m sorry I didn’t bring the dogs.  There was another…um, incident with Celia’s plants.”  Fabian gestured to the broken form of a once thriving orchid, now laying in pieces on a table.  It had miraculously survived Fabian’s complete lack of a green thumb but ultimately succumb under the pressure of canine teeth.  “Thought Arthur and the boys might keep them out of trouble while we wrapped up here.”

Fabian squared his shoulders, ready and determined to tackle the project with renewed, focused energy.  “Already got the clothes gathered so it’s just the fun things left.” With Lily there he would try to make the tedious task as interesting as he could.  “I was going to tackle the hall closet if you can give me a quick hand.”

The closet was one of those rarely used places in the flat.  There was plenty of storage room about the amply sized space and Fabian couldn’t remember sticking anything in there beyond a couple of boxes of the art collection he hadn’t had the wall space or heart to put up.  “There isn’t too much here really,” he assured her, walking across the living room to the hall closet.  “It just looks like…” Fabian opened the door and jumped.  Instead of the pile of boxes he expected to see, he found himself facing the stony face of large, replica moai head in a red, knitted scarf.

“However will I survive without the dogs?” Lily feigned upset, but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips belied her amusement. While she always looked forward to an afternoon spent with furry, energetic friends, their absence didn’t dampen her mood in the least. The fact remained that she stood surrounded by an amalgamation of magical trinkets with exciting and unknown histories, and she had Fabian to keep her company. That was enough, in her book. The teasing grin finally broke through, “I suppose I’ll have to settle for your company, then.”

The trek to the closet wasn’t hard, but Lily had to pick her way back towards Fabian carefully. Her fingers trailed over the two packed boxes, and the any objects that caught her attention. She briefly wondered how many questions she could ask before she was deemed a hindrance rather than a help, but shook the thought off for later. Putting things in boxes was hardly challenging, and idle chatter would make the otherwise tedious task pass quicker, right? Her attention was on the counter with the poor orchid, and she was nodding to Fabian’s instructions, when his voice cut off abruptly. “What’s the–”

Marlene had long since embraced the fact she would never be perfect. Not as a daughter, or a sister,  or really anything else. She was always going to be too much of something for someone; too loud, too bold, too rebellious…the list went on and on. Never was she going to be enough, the perfect image of whatever anybody expected her to be, and so Marlene had long since stopped trying. She was who she was, no bullshit of excuses, and she liked to think that she was unapologetic about it. If she spent too much time regretting who she was, she would explode. And regardless of what had happened, or what was to come, Marlene McKinnon knew she deserved more than that.

Of course that didn’t stand to mean that the redhead of the McKinnon twins couldn’t feel regret. There was plenty of it festering around what had become an easily sealed away heart. Regret that she hadn’t saved Dorcas. Regret Amelia was still missing, that she had let Amos down; that she had joined a terrorist group at all, no matter how tempting it had once been…regret, regret, regret. Each instance of it stabbing at her like a thorn, but Marlene couldn’t dwell on it. She could only hope to do better, and if nobody had faith in her then so be it. Marlene hadn’t come forward for them– she did it for her.

But that still did nothing to stop the nostalgic pit that lived inside. She missed who they all used to be. The days and nights spent at Hogwarts, trivial dramas and essay deadlines being what plagued them, rather than missing people and an ever-present fear of death. More than that, Marlene missed the no-barrier relationships she had once had with her friends. War really was changing everything. Hearing Lily’s words, hazel eyes darted toward the flower, a small smile on her face as she watched it. Leave it to Lily Evans to really think of everything, but she would expect nothing less. “’S beautiful, Lily; I never could get charms ta work with me like that.” Hearing her question caused her to falter, for a moment. “I’ve been– around. Workin’ with Minister Bagnold mostly, going to the manor to help my da…he’s not as bad as it could be, but I don’t guess that’s saying much.”

“Thank you. They’ve always just suited me, Charms. They can be very bright and fun, this seemed like the perfect time for something like that.” Lily offered a half smile at the compliment before setting the fluttering flower onto the ground gently. It was a small addition to the otherwise gloomy situation, but she’d learned that the small things added up. It wasn’t just a castle, but all of the people in it. It wasn’t just a defeat, but all of the working pieces that had led to it. The flowers, along with Molly’s curtains and quietly burning candles, would add up. And maybe collectively they could make something brighter, something with a little more hope. It felt like far too much to expect from a simple charm and some paper, but Lily had never been short on faith.

Her gaze lifted from the flower to Marlene, and there was something to be said for that faith. They’d come a long way since late nights in dorm rooms, and stressing over the latest stretch of parchment. If everything was built upon smaller things, Lily wondered what Marlene was made of. She thought she had some idea, before the ministry fell, before allegiances were revealed and switched and splayed open for the entire Order to judge. Now, she wasn’t so sure. What once was familiar felt jilted, somehow. It wasn’t an abrupt feeling, but rather like an instrument that was just barely off tune; it wasn’t quite right. Lily wanted to believe that she could sweep all of the rumors under a rug, and pretend nothing had changed. Faith in friendship and the relationships she’d forged within the Order kept a small smile on her face, but “why” danced on the tip of her tongue, nonetheless.

“It’s...something.” She said instead, knowing her words be of very little solace, if any. She shifted to the side, clearing away some of the flowers from around her and putting them into a small, shifting pile, allowing space beside her if Marlene wanted to join her. “Your work with the Minister,” Her words cut no corners. “How’s that working out for you?”

Adjusting to life at the castle had been more difficult than he had expected. It wasn’t so much that he struggled to share the space with others - not when his days at Hogwarts had been some of his fondest and their current situation brought back echoes of that - but more that he was struggling to feel as though he had some sort of purpose. That he was doing anything truly worthwhile. His profession had suffered the moment that they’d attacked St Mungos and they’d taken away even his ability to walk down the street without fearing for his life or his family’s and if he hadn’t already reached the end of his forgiveness for them it had came when he realised what such a future meant for his daughter.

Sleepless nights seemed to be becoming a fixture and one look at anyone else around him told Ted that he was far from the only one still trying to find some way to come to terms with it all. The decision to leave Aversio was the only one that he didn’t regret but as time wore on it was still too tempting of an idea to lash out at the Death Eaters once again - the only things stopping him was the knowledge that it would simply continue the cycle of violence and death. He had taken to getting up early, sleep patterns still nonexistent from his days of working night shifts, in the hope that it would encourage some sort of tiredness to set in and in order not to disturb anyone else as he went about his morning routine, the healer had found a small kitchen tucked away from the majority of the rest of the castle.

The kettle had been set off to boil and he was in the process of finding himself a cup when a light patter of footsteps drew his attention to the doorway, spotting a familiar redhead when he looked up. “You a tea or a coffee person?” The offer was made easily and without hesitation, a smile warming up on his features as he began to shrug off some of the weariness that had been so stubborn in its refusal to leave him be. Things were hard enough as they were without any of them succumbing to the temptation of letting their doubts or fears win, it was far too important that they found a way to get through it all together. His smile grows slightly, a little chuckle given alongside his words. “Or it’s maybe too early in the day for that for you.”

It was cool in the mornings, stone walls and drafty corridors doing nothing to stave off the chill in the lesser occupied sections of the castle. The warmth of June was truly setting in, but it was far too early in the morning for it to make a difference. Lily had a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders, her hair barely brushed and still clad in her slippers. Not many people seemed to wander so early, and she’d wrongly assumed that the little tucked-away kitchen would be vacant. Her slippers scuffed against the floors, and any thoughts of fading away disappeared as Ted caught on to her presence.

“Morning, Ted.” She greeted lightly, returning his smile. It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid Ted Tonks. In fact, he probably understood her own unrest better than most people. There was a fire that crackled just beneath her skin, itching for just the right moment to burst into an inferno. Standing around doing nothing felt like a poor attempt to stoke the flames. No, it was more that, while Ted was a familiar face, he wasn’t exactly familiar within the Order. “It’s never quite too early for a warm cup of tea, is it? I will admit, though, I hadn’t expected to find anyone else up, not here.” She looked vaguely around the small, out-of-the-way kitchen as she moved past the doorway.

At her honesty, Kingsley couldn’t help but chuckle. It was a very good hearted chuckle considering her reply reminded Kingsley much of himself. “I’ve been doing much the same. It’s a large castle and reminds me much of Hogwarts. Minus the moving staircases. Thankfully.” Kingsley’s mind flashed back to a few different situations during his time at Hogwarts where he either got lost or ended up on a stairway that lead to nowhere. Yes, things were better without moving staircases.

As he waited for her question bated breath, his eyebrows reached higher on his forehead, hopefully giving the younger girl an open and welcome expression. He never wanted anyone to be afraid to ask him a question and he wanted to be as open and honest as possible with the answers he gave. Sadly, Lily was smart and young and asked the one question he didn’t have an answer to. At least not an answer he liked. 

Kingsley decided to stop walking so he could give Lily the attention the question needed. The answer had to be worded well, at least well enough to inspire Lily to not lose hope and keep with The Order while things weren’t going well for them. “It’s hard. We’re still trying to recover from the attack on The Ministry and not a lot of action is happening. But… That doesn’t mean progress isn’t happening.” Kingsley himself had been working crazy hours, shifting through paperwork and running errands, doing what he could to get things moving again, so he could understand where Lily was coming from. “I’m sure we can find something for you to do, if you’re feeling antsy. And we’ll get you into some training if you like! Auror-style training. We must be using this time productively, but everyone recovers at different speeds. I think that’s why we’re hesitant to make any major moves just yet.” He had begun to ramble, but Kingsley hoped Lily found his answers to be acceptable.

It felt symbolic, somehow, slowing to a stop in the hallway with Kingsley. The castle was still, and standing motionless with someone she looked to as something of a leader felt too much like stalling. It was exactly what she was afraid of; they’d suffered a loss and retreated, nothing was happening. It was the source of most of her frustrations, the reason she paced the hallways and hung flowers throughout the old castle. The loss pressed heavy around them, made heavier still by stagnation. Lily had been movement as often as she could. She was outspoken in her beliefs, and jumping on every opportunity to end the growing voice of prejudice and discrimination. Hours felt like days, and she couldn’t seem to stand still anymore.

She shifted her feet against stone floors, releasing a small breath of relief at Kingsley’s reassurances. She wasn’t so naive as to believe that her role in the Order allowed her access to all of the information. The inner workings were reserved for those who most needed to know, and Lily could easily acknowledge that she didn’t always need to know everything. Frustrating though it could be at times, she was happy to know that she was helping to make a difference, regardless. The fact that it took her as long as it had to catch up to Kingsley should have been something of an indication, but it felt good to hear him say it. Progress was happening. She didn’t always have to see to believe.

“Good.” She gave a nod, and a small smile. While the news was reassuring, it was only a bandage on the gaping wound of their recent loss. “Antsy might be an understatement. I’ve been charming paper flowers, it’s...if there’s something that I can do, anything, however small, I’d really love to be doing it. Training, what have you.” Her smile grew at the thought. “In fact, training would be quite helpful.” Far more helpful than the flowers; although, she’d caught a few smiles in response.

It was surprising, really, that the Leaky Cauldron was this empty. Though she hadn’t exactly been a regular customer as of late, Hestia always imagined that the bar was a bustling hub of people, a place where people went to collect their thoughts, share a pint, or otherwise distract themselves from the rest of the world. While everything else was going down in flames, Hestia was almost certain that the Leaky Cauldron would continue to be a safe bastion for people on all sides of the war. Instead, it seemed that the opposite was true. Apart from a few people lingering around the pub, the place was nearly empty. She ordered her drink from Tom, making some brief small talk, after taking a lonely seat at the bar. Luckily for Hestia, though, it didn’t take long for someone to come and pull out the seat next to her. Hestia turned to face the person, glad to see that it was Lily Evans, and not some other stranger that she would inevitably have to speak to. “Lily, of course! You don’t even have to ask,” she replied, a warm smile adorning her face. “I honestly thought that there would be more people here. I guess that makes me an idiot of sorts, doesn’t it?” She laughed. “It’s been too long. What’ve you been up to? How are you?”

“It’ll pick up.” Lily reassured easily, casting a glance around the relatively quiet pub. The hustle and bustle she’d come to expect of the more popular wizarding hubs had been noticeably – and understandably – subdued. While The Leaky Cauldron had always seemed untouchable in a way, it didn’t come as a surprise to find it less crowded than it would have been before...Recent events still hovered like low, dense clouds, and it took considerable effort to shake off thoughts of the people who were absent, but rather on the people who were there. People like Hestia.

Sybill watched as her energy startled and scattered like dust, but couldn’t quite work up the effort to feel too bad about it- times like these weren’t ones you wanted to get lost in, being so unaware while out and about wasn’t good practice. And people may think she was the same, sitting in forests and meditating- but she had her inner eye, that kept an eye on the rest of the world for her. So maybe it was good she’d reminded the girl to keep her wits about her.

She smiled and curled up in the chair, legs folded underneath her. It was nice to be genuinely welcomed. Some people let her sit with them just because they were too polite to say no. But Lily had such an honest aura about her, stretching out in greeting, unafraid. It was nice. Some people kept it all so tight up inside themselves these days that meeting someone as open as her current company was like the first breath of fresh air when you left a smokey room.

“Sybill Trelawney, that’s me.” She confirmed with a cheery grin, sipping her tea. “And you’re Lily Evans, with you it’s the hair.” She made a little gesture towards it and laughed “gorgeous colour, was always a bit jealous. Could always spot you even with your head in a book.” Sybill’s gaze turned to the one on the table between them “some things don’t change it seems, I like that. Have you been well?”

“Sybill, right.” Lily echoed, watching as her newfound company curled up into the chair, seemingly completely comfortable in the otherwise crowded cafe. The name Trelawney seemed as though it should be familiar, like something newly forgotten from a textbook somewhere, but the remembrance remained faint and elusive. If it was anything more than just a name bouncing around Hogwarts during her school years, she was surely going to stumble upon it later.

Any forgotten history aside, Sybill seemed nice enough. Not all smiles were to be trusted, certainly not considering recent events, but Lily had found them to be rare and far in between. A smile in greeting was something to be appreciated, especially one as cheery as the one Sybill had to offer. Her hands curled around her book, pulling it close before tucking it into her book bag, sliding her cup of tea into its place instead.

“Aye, it’s hard to miss, but I rather like it.” She grinned, leaning back against the wooden bars of the cafe chair. For a moment, just a moment, she let Sybill’s question sit in the air between them. The answer was much more complicated than a yes or a no, but the simple fact remained that she was sitting in a cafe in Scotland, reading a book and allowing ink to take her far, far away from the things that would make her answer ‘no.’ So she settled with “I’ve been well enough.” Her smile, though perhaps softer than it had been before, remained in place. “And you, have you been well?”

Benjy could not believe he used to think about how the goal of The Order was as clear as water. Protect the innocents, stop the Death Eaters. And then in the blink of an eye everything had changed. Aversio had showed up and turned the world upside down. Ever since they first learned about them things had gotten immensely more complicated, these people had claimed they wanted an end to what the self proclaimed Death Eaters were doing, but they were going about it the wrong way. 

Violence only brings more violence, and the ones that were sure to pay the price were those that were going to be caught in the middle. And his worries came to be. Innocents killed, chaos and violence rising all around them. And now the Death Eaters had taken over the Ministry. And all thanks to Aversio.

Aversio who had infiltrated The Order, or who started in The Order. It was impossible to know. All the knew was that people he used to call friends -who had listened to his concerns, who had offered advice- were a part of it.

Benjy tried to keep a positive attitude, the last thing he needed was to lose hope, if he ever let himself think like that, if he ever let this world change him, then there was no point in fighting. There was still hope, there were good things, and even during the darkest of times he would continue to look for the smallest ray of hope. They had survived. They were still fighting. They were going to rise up.

Like a phoenix.

But they had to work for it. Benjy was no stranger to work. His entire life he had had to work harder than most, he wasn’t academically gifted, could barely get through a text book, and he had set his heart in one of the most demanding jobs in the whole wizarding world. But he had good friends (his friends had always been the best of him) and it was thanks to his friends that he had made it. Through school, into the Aurors department. Through the war.

Being back at a castle, even if it wasn’t the same one, brought back a familiar feeling. And when he walked past a room full of vials and funny looking ingredients, with a certain red head looking in deep concentration, he could swear he was back at Hogwarts. ❝Hey Lils❞ he said with a cheerful voice, even if each step he took hurt a little bit, ❝need a hand?❞ not that he would be of much help, ❝or at least some company?❞

It felt like a step back in time, looking up to see Benjy approaching, the shuffle of his steps grabbing her attention before he had the chance to speak. There was a familiarity to it that felt far away, somehow, even when it had only been a few short years since the two of them had studied together in the Hogwarts potions room. The years had both stretched on forever, and passed in the blink of an eye. Benjy still had that bright smile, an optimism to rival her own even in the face of defeat. He still sounded the same, and it still brought a smile to her face, when he walked into the room.

But he had a limp, the tell-tale remnants of a battle hard lost, and Lily felt far older than her nineteen years. Older than anyone their age had any right to feel. Because as familiar as it was, for all of the memories of tutoring and learning together, there was a world of fighting and surviving between then and now, and they had changed.

Even so, Lily brightened when Benjy walked through the room. The scratching of the quill quieted, and she set down the bottle of bright, incandescent blue liquid she was holding. “Hey, you!” She responded, cheerful voice matching his. It was hard to find a smile within the castle walls, grim faces far outnumbering the cheery ones, and Benjy’s light presence was refreshing. “I suppose you could help, but...”

Her eyes dropped to the bottle, then rose once more to meet his. He’d been injured, she knew that much, even if they hadn’t managed to see much of each other since the ministry fell. And potions had always been her thing. “Your company is all the help I need.” The quiet had been getting to her, anyway. “I was just taking stock of what we have, and what we might need for the future. It’s not too hard, just tedious.”

This was going to go quickly.  At least, that was what Fabian thought whenhe’d begun packing two hours earlier. Now he stood in the midst of several loosely organized piles, notentirely sure where the time had gone. Two partially filled boxes of easilyidentified personal belongings was all there was to show for his efforts.  The pile of things he’d borrowed wasn’t unmanageablebut the things he didn’t quite know were his or Celia’s was embarrassingly confused.  They had been in the same graduating classand taken too many trips together for ownership to be easily determined.  Fabian was just beginning to realize howlarge a task this was when he heard a knock at the door.

Extracting himself from the disaster zone, he navigatedhis way to the front door.

Fabian opened the door and threw itwide when he saw who it was.  Perhaps he should have exercised more caution given recent events but he had been expecting Lily and quickly took down the protection spells before waving her in enthusiastically.  Gratitude for her help didn’t half cover it.

“Lily!  Come in! Thank you for coming to help.”  

Fabian guided the way into a large,bright living room, the locus of the mess. It had been a nicely organized room once, filled with things from hisfriend and former co-worker Celia’s travels. Then Fabian had dragged his things in, sub-letting the flat while Celia traveledand worked in the field.  Unpacking histhings had been a gradual process.  Theplace had never felt like home but slowly he began to take his things out, moveCelia’s things around, add little touches to make the place feel more livedin.  The space still resembled a hodgepodge museumin many ways but it did not hold the stale air of one.  More than once Fabian had referred to it as“the petting zoo”.  There was nothing underglass here but interesting objects lay on almost every available surface.

“It’s a bigger job than I guessed.”  Fabian rubbed the back of his neck, hatingwhat he was going to have to admit before Lily made the startlingrealization.  “I’ve only managed twoboxes.”  The task wasn’t to bringeverything though.  He knew he couldn’tdo that.  Just the essentials and thethings he couldn’t replace.  With a flatfilled with treasures almost everything fell into the latter category.  Fabian gazed out at the mess, looking everybit as daunted as he felt.

“Fabian!” Lily greeted easily, offering a bright smile before following him through the doorway. Knick knacks and curiosities had been her expectation, and he did not disappoint. The flat felt more like a museum than a home; it was so detached from her own experiences. Her eyes caught on various objects, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers along some of the larger items, cautiously excited. The living room seemed to carry the brunt of the mess, and her footsteps stalled in the doorway. While it may seem more like a museum, Lily could tell someone lived there; had lived there, was in the process of moving away.

The only problem seemed to be that everything was still scattered. It hardly looked like a moving process, until she finally spotted the, “Two boxes.” She blew out a breath that turned into a small laugh. Two boxes, and a world still to pack away. It would be disheartening, if she wasn’t quite so excited to see everything. While tedious, packing always felt nostalgic and fun in its own way. This museum had to have history, the scattered objects most likely held a story. “That’s alright. We’ll get it done, yeah? I must admit, I’m actually a little excited. There’s so much stuff, plus good company and a couple dogs? It didn’t take much convincing.”

She looked up from the boxes (only two boxes) to really take in Fabian for the first time. Another laugh escaped as she took in his expression, looking at the scattered mess of items still left to be sorted. It was day one. She fought the urge to reassure once more, and found a place in the center of the mess. The only way to get through it was to get started.