#statue!james

His brow furrows and then James’ eyes follow Lily’s guidance and he flushes. Nevermind that they both had a hand in the utterly debauched appearance of the suite. Or that they’ve come to know just about every bare inch of each other. He can be so proper at times, for a man who’s come from an era allegedly less repressed than her own.

James rises on tiptoe and pulls the garment from the chandelier. By the time he’s drawn the second side over his leg, there’s two sharp knocks at the door and he stumbles his way to answer. “You may want to make yourself scarce.”

“I am quite scandalous this morning,” Lily says with a smirk, “Though we are quite thoroughly married. I’m no scarlet woman.”

She’s leaning with her shoulder propped against the wall, one bare leg crossed over the other while her borrowed shirt barely disguises her form when James strides over and hisses in her ear, “If you stay out here, I will hardly be able to keep my head. I don’t particularly fancy anyone else being privy to the way I look at you.”

“You look at me all the time, love,” Lily says, innocent and deliberately obtuse.

James darts both hands beneath her shirt and draws her close, palms pulling her up toward him while he slants his mouth over hers in a warm, wet kiss. After a head spinning kiss, he murmurs against her lips. “You know very well what I mean, kokéta ,” another knock at the door, “Now go pretend to freshen yourself while I usher our guest out as quickly as possible.”

“I don’t like being ordered about.”

“Sometimes you do,” James shoots back with a wink, “Now off you go.”

Lily rolls her eyes but does as he asks and after a brief interchange, she hears the door to their suite click closed. “All clear, Lily.”

His back is to her as he examines the savory and sweet dishes piled atop a shined golden breakfast cart, so Lily wanders over and presses her chest against his back. “I’m hoping our meal will be a quick affair.”

James hums, already filling two plates. “So long as you agree to dessert.”

“For breakfast - ”

Lily’s question trails off as he uncovers a dish full of whipped cream, or considering where they are, creme fresh. In answer, she swipes a finger through the stiff peaks and drags it across her tongue. “Why of course, what else are holidays for?”

It’s only much later, when they’ve made an undeniable mess of their rooms, that Lily’s mind finally returns to matters outside the marriage bed. James has started to doze when her finger finds the dimple in his chin and she asks quietly, “Tell me about your parents.”

“You know most of it already,” James murmurs against her hair, pressing an errant kiss to the crown of her head, “But I know you - just ask the question you’re dying to.”

Chuckling, Lily props herself up on one elbow and watches him for a moment. “Why - I can’t help but think none of this was a mistake.”

“Invoking the Moirai?” 

Her fingertip wanders over the planes of his face, mapping each dip and rise, committing it to memory. “Not in the sense of the ladies of fate themselves, but prophecies that span thousands of years before coming to fruition are hardly happenstance when they do. Have you - have you considered perhaps your parents knew what was coming long before - that they wanted to prevent everything?”

“Of course, it’s logical to assume they knew, but less so that they tried to interfere,” James pauses and pulls her hand to his chest, brushing his fingers along hers, “I’ve made my peace with it. They surely had their reasons. No real way to judge things from now, not fairly that is. Things then were so very different - most wouldn’t dare attempt to defy a prophetic foretelling.”

“Quite mature of you, husband,” Lily says softly, then grins, “You really are the adult among us.”

“Mm, what do you think I was brooding about all those months between my return and Riddle’s?”

“My beautiful face?”

“I was trying very hard not to brood about that.”

“Went well, eh?”

“Swimmingly,” James answers, eyes shut with content.

Lily’s mind is still whirring with possibilities and she can’t seem to turn it off, not when it all feels so close to resolution. “What was your family crest? Assuming you had one.”

James’ brows rise and he scoffs, indignant. “What do you take us for? Of course we had a crest - Sun and moon interlocked, a lion in the foreground. I’ll admit the lion did at times look a little too human faced.”

LIly stiffens and sits up. “Sun and moon - like - ”

Realization dawns on his features. “Oh hell, like Sirius’ damn eclipse.”

After the minor revelation regarding James’ family’s penchant for solar movements and the impending eclipse - which is really more like two dots connected that have as yet unknown value - James and Lily decide their morning lie in has to come to a close. The rest of their party will likely have some input on the significance, the weight of connecting James’ family specifically to the eclipse, and the elixir all while bringing it together with the earlier prophecies about James’ hand in Riddle’s death - there’s almost too much to consider. And a selfish, scared part of Lily doesn’t want to. 

Once they’re presentable and Lily’s managed to calm her pounding heartbeat, they head for Sirius’ room and find him enjoying an overdone lunch with Remus.

“How kind of you to join us, lovebirds,” Sirius says with a flick of his hair, “We thought you might never emerge.”

Lily claims the settee and lounges back against one arm, tossing her leg up on the seat, doing her best impression of calm, cool Lily. “Don’t be such a fussbudget, Sirius. We both know you have not been up long enough to complain.”

Remus snorts and tosses an apple James’ way. “I woke him up about ten minutes ago.”

While James makes himself comfortable on the plush carpet, he takes in the rather gaudy room from the rich velvet curtains to the gilded moldings, to the brocade fabric stretched over the walls, it’s exactly what he’d expect from Sirius Black. “What a surprise - you’ve kept the richest room for yourself.”

“I am the benefactor, of course.”

As James leans back against Lily’s shins, her hands find his shoulder and knead gently. “So James and I were chatting.”

It’s a vague beginning, but her chest is tight with what might come of pressing this, of the revelations that might finally push her past the deniability of unfinished business that could change everything and wrench them apart.

“Is that what they - ” Sirius’ sentence ends with Remus’ elbow in his ribs. He glares but complies and returns to the original topic, “Yes, what have you brought us, Potters?”

James brushes Lily’s fingers with his. “Tell us more about the text, the message from my parents.”

“As far as I can tell, it’s a prophecy, of sorts, or a warning,” he hesitates, “They mentioned you. Or at least it seems like you. It said ` diavolaki leander .’”

James sucks in a breath and he grips Lily’s hand. “That’s - that’s me.”

She leans forward and strokes his hair back from his face, lips pressing to his forehead in a barely there kiss. Her voice is a murmur. “Their little impish lion boy.”

Their partners watch quietly, waiting, just as Lily does. It feels like everyone is out of their depth at this point - no amount of study or book learning can allow them to understand as James does. And even if it could, the close cut of any decision they make is unparalleled. “We need to protect it - to keep it away from the people they worried about. It was a mistake, making it.”

Remus fiddles with his teacup absently. “Do you think - is that why you were sent ahead, for lack of a better description?”

“I don’t believe they wanted to give me up. But I do think they understood the original prophecy to an extent. That I had to - die essentially. Without me turning on that battlefield, who knows what havoc Riddle would have wrought. And that perhaps however much they wanted their son, they couldn’t challenge fate.”

“Is it horribly selfish to be glad they didn’t?” Lily asks after a moment, “It does feel like destiny that you found us.”

James rises on his knees and turns to face Lily, cupping her jaw with his palms. “You are my pepromeno .” 

Lily tilts into his hand and lets out a watery laugh. “And you are mine.”

Whatever James would have responded is cut off by Sirius’ snort. “I wish my mother had put a thousand years between us.”

Remus shakes his head but refrains from physical action against Sirius, understandably since it hasn’t appeared to work yet. The foursome is quiet while the gilt clock on the mantle ticks away the minutes, the sun bright and warm as it slices through the expertly shined glass panes. Aside from James moving to claim a seat next to Lily, it’s as if they’re frozen in time.

“Do you,” Remus hesitates a moment, “We are relatively certain this is a series of interconnected prophecies relating to your family line. But do we know why your parents would have gotten mixed up in all this messy alchemy?”

Sirius frowns. His gaze doesn’t waver from James’. “Do you think…”

James’ brow furrows, “It crossed my mind.”

Lily glances between them and James explains, “I think it possible they were trying to bring me back and made this by mistake. And in the process, well - maybe the Fates were unhappy with the interference.”

“Likely still are - unless you think they’ve gone on holiday too,” Sirius laughs darkly, then asks, “And the eclipse?”

Lily grunts. “Of course - that’s why we came to find you in the first place. James’ crest is essentially an eclipse. And that’s beside all the alchemical connections to lunar and solar cycles. We are on the verge of one of the most magically volatile days in our lifetimes and James is the damn center of it all.”

Remus sighs, “So I guess we’re off to save the world again, eh?”

Another day in town allows them enough time to pore over the information gathered between the four of them, logistics and local lore care of Remus and James, while Lily and Sirius had uncovered what they could on Flamel and the Potters. James’ translation confirmed what they’d thought - the regret spoken of was more than simply missing their son. It reached beyond to something dangerous, a fear that they’d left the world worse off and ran out of time to remedy the mistake.

Of course, this could be something less ominous than all that. For all they know, Fleamont and Euphemia’s regrets could come down to leaving Riddle the chance of return. After all, anyone could have found the elixir over the thousands of years it’s taken for James to return and find it.

It’s a thought, but not one they trust or are willing to accept.  So soon they’re trundling off the cobbled roads onto dirt ones that run through the countryside, with Remus at the reins.

Sirius has lounged across one bench in the open air carriage while Lily and James share the opposite. The whole set up is rather plush for a ‘save the world’ adventure. Not that any less should be expected from Sirius.

While the wheels rattle along, Sirius says, “So I’ve been thinking about the regret of your parents.”

“Join the club,” James says with a rueful grin. Lily pulls his hand into her lap and strokes his arm.

“I don’t think it was any one thing,” he sits up straighter, “First off, they certainly regret not succeeding in bringing you back, second they likely took the whole life and death mess seriously and whatever they created is clearly not what they or the Flamels started out working for. We’ll never really know - maybe they wanted to live long enough to see you return.”

Lily hums. “And third, it seems like this is a less than predictable creation, alchemy has never been an exact science.”

“Science itself is rarely one,” Remus chuckles as he clicks his tongue at the horses, “Not when you’re at the wild frontier of it all.”

“And the eclipse?” Sirius asks.

James bites his lip, thoughtful. “I don’t think they knew everything, or that tying it to solar movements was necessarily intentional because of our family crest. You - it’s hard to put into the context of the modern era but my people - ” he pauses, brow furrowed, “Superstition wasn’t fringe and it wasn’t even unfounded. We’ve all seen the power of an accurate prophecy first hand. Back then it wasn’t odd to believe and if you tried to stop it you weren’t seen as a hero in any sense. So my parents - they couldn’t try to keep me from my destiny as it had been written.”

“So they did the next best thing,” Lily says softly, “Or as close as they could figure.”

“Tried,” James adds, “I suppose prophecies are living, breathing things in a way and one as strong as mine - it wasn’t to be thwarted.”

“If the elixir was for you and you’d come back too soon, we wouldn’t have had a chance against Riddle,” Remus muses and they fall into silence once again.

The early morning sun is high and bright overhead, no sign of an impending eclipse, nor of the danger that could rest just over the rolling hills. For all the world, they seem a quartet of jolly travelers on holiday at the seaside.

But soon enough, Remus guides them to the ancient cemetery filled with cracked markers, and even larger monuments to the wealthier dead interred below. 

James’ jaw is set when he steps from the carriage and offers his hand to Lily. “I have no idea how to find them.”

“We’ll do it together,” Lily answers quietly, grip on his hand tightening, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

They split off two and two to search the rows, some orderly and others crooked and meandering from years of separation between deaths, from disparity in decoration, and simply the passage of time. 

Lily knows the sketch she’d found back before so much was a simple headstone, but all they’ve learned since seems to count against the accuracy of that notation. Perhaps a deliberate falsehood to put would-be robbers off the trail. It’s all guesswork at the moment, leaving their best bet a careful examination of every plot.

Finally, after too many hours for comfort, James lets out a low exclamation and Lily runs to his side a few paces away one row over. The site is a stone and glass mausoleum with delicate carvings around what’s presumably the entry point. White marble gives way to stained glass, some intact others cracked inward with time and an iron door locking whatever lies inside away from prying eyes or ill intended hands.

She shouts for Sirius and Remus while James runs his fingers over the inscription at the right of the door, the same as she’d read on those old records, beloved, held close always .

Behind smudged glasses, James’ eyes flutter shut as he takes slow, deliberate breaths. Remus and Sirius slow to a jog as they near, faces somber as they wait for James to speak.

After a few moments, he clears his throat, “I presume one of you has a proclivity for lockpicking.”

Lily presses a kiss to his jaw and moves forward, kneeling as she pulls out her kit. It’s been ages since she’d needed to use her tools but she’d kept fairly agile by locking doors around the cottage and forgoing the use of her keys.

The heavy weight of the components moving against her slim tools is familiar, the focus a welcome cleanse of her whirring mind. Calming the thoughts that have spun around in endless circuits for the last two days. 

It’s an old lock, ancient actually, so the pieces are simpler than some Lily’s come across, and soon enough the door swings open with a low creak. Sunlight cuts through the dim interior, dustmotes floating on the air pushed by their movements as the group enters with James at the lead.

Shattered glass crunches beneath boots, painted tributes half worn away from the walls seem to depict an entire lifetime and Lily’s heart skitters when she finds the images no longer contain a lone couple and instead turn to a family of three. Even the simplistic figures capture the features James inherited from his parents - lanky build and wild hair from his father, deep set eyes from his mother - it’s a little heartbreaking that she’ll never get to see up close.

James swipes at his eyes with the back of his wrist and clears his throat. “Do we think - is the elixir in a secret compartment?”

Sirius presses his shoulder to James under the pretense of joining his search, but Lily sees the muscles in James’ back relax as he accepts the comfort. “I would say a compartment is likely. Some sort of triggering mechanism is what we’re looking for - simple enough that it could be released but the hope is generally that only the creator would use it.”

Remus nods as he runs a gentle hand over the walls, fingers prodding and poking at every ledge and crevice. “I know it’s no help to things - but by the look of things the eclipse is not long off.”

While James and Sirius sharpen their search, Lily crouches and examines the timeline of the Potter family and finds the trio - James now grown to adulthood - posed almost like a portrait with the sun and moon behind them, half eclipsed. Perhaps the images were more than tribute...perhaps a roadmap of sorts to the seeker.

The carvings below are like the rest along the base of the wall, intricate and filled with anything from crashing waves to blooming flowers. Here a lion bares its teeth in a silent roar, mane billowing backward with the phantom movement. 

Biting her lip, Lily lets her finger slide between the jaws and drag over the smooth inner surface of the lion’s mouth until her touch catches on a small latch and a quiet click sounds.

Slowly, a compartment no wider than Lily’s hand slides open, the hollow sound stone grinding on stone echoing in the room, the sky darkening enough that Sirius ignites a lamp they’d brought along and gently sets it atop one of the stone caskets.

With the damn the consequences attitude Lily’s never been able to overcome even with age, she reaches inside and swipes her hand through the empty space until her skin brushes a cool glass object. It hums beneath her touch as she pulls it out into the rapidly dimming light to examine it more closely. Air rushes in her ears and her pulse pounds. James’ shouts are lost to her as the vial begins to feel like an extension of her.

Beneath the glass, liquid undulates like a living thing, swirls licking over the sides and glowing low like ignited coal. She hears James’ voice pitch lower, call her name like a warning.

The longer she holds it, the more it warms in her palm, biting now rather than comforting, the light within sparking until shots of gold slice through the glass, stinging her skin like sparklers. Her body feeling light and yet immovable, like she’s frozen in between moments.

She can’t seem to tear her eyes away, but her mind grinds to action and her voice sounds thin when she speaks, “James.” 

Sirius swears low and vicious and soon she can feel her companions crowded close by, though the comfort is minimal, as though all her body can comprehend is the growing heat that travels up her arm, cracks slowly forming in her skin. She watches as James’ hands grab her forearms, sees him duck his head and press his lips to her skin as it turns ashen.

But instead of pain, it's a delirious sort of euphoria that fills her, even as Sirius joins James’ desperate shouts, as Remus shakes her shoulders. The sun is truly gone now, the world black as pitch save the glowing crystal in her hand. 

Part of her knows the horrific picture she must make, slowly turning molten, her body splitting open, eyes blown wide, body completely out of her own control. But she can’t really feel it, the terror that really should wrack her body like it does James’.

Vaguely she hears them exchanging increasingly panicked words, James begging for her to look at him, telling her he loves her, but none penetrate her comprehension fully until James’ plea for the baby. 

Her mind finally grinds into action and her body begins to comply, paralysis relenting at least enough to let her eyes find James’, for her to recognize the tears running down her face in steady trails, and recognize the heartbroken expression on James’ face. 

“I love you Lily,” he says, just before he pulls her into his chest like he has so many times, and it's a warm comfort nothing like the overwhelmingly heady power of the stone. She shudders out a breath and then suddenly she’s cold and the stone flares. 

Flares in James’ palm.

She shrieks in horror, the blisters on her hand and arm already fading back to pale skin while James stumbles backward until his back collides with the wall. 

Vaguely, she hears him shouting for Sirius and Remus, feels their hands grab at her but she shoves them away. “I am not leaving him - stop!”

Sirius grips her hand and pulls harder, “Lily we can’t - he is the only one that can contain it. He told us what to do. It’s too out of control. There’s nothing - ”

Remus looks at her, pleading, “You didn’t see what it was doing to you. You were - it looked like lava, and we couldn’t reach you. You were slowly burning from beneath your skin. The heat was like standing in front of a pyre. He’s the only one with a shot at having enough magic roiling around in him to keep the power from killing everyone within a ten mile radius.”

Lily wrenches herself away from their pulls. “That doesn’t mean I’m leaving him - I can’t leave him. He needs me,” her chest rises in a shuddering sob, “I need him.”

James calls out for her, his arm already too heavy for him to remain upright. He slumps against the wall as bone and muscle and sinew slowly turn back to cold marble. She’d almost been devoured by the power, and he’s absorbing it all. “Lily please. Go .”

The last word is wrenched from his throat just before he bellows in pain, eyes clenched shut and suddenly she can see it all - from that very first day. His confused eyes warm on hers, those blissful summer days spent learning each other while he learned the new world. Friendship growing to something more. The press of his lips on hers, the slow movement of their bodies and together in a dance she thought they’d have years to perfect. The unbridled joy when he learned of their child.

She can’t stop the wild yell that grinds from her throat, “How many times are you going to die Iacomus?”

The stone eating away at him grows nearer to his heart, his remaining skin glowing golden while his hazel eyes linger on hers and he crunches the elixir in his palm. “I love you.”

A shockwave ripples out from his body as the final bit of him hardens to stone and with it, takes the last of the strength in Lily’s legs.

Sirius growls and smashes the lamp to the ground, shards of glass scattering while the light gutters and sends them into blackness.

Lily hears him storm from the final resting place for the Potter line, feels Remus embrace her. “James wouldn’t - ”

“Well James isn’t here to say what he bloody wants and it’s that damn arseholes own fault,” she shouts before a sob wracks her body. “Just - give me time. Go stop Sirius from doing something idiotic.”

Remus hesitates for a moment before he leaves to follow Sirius. 

Lily pushes to her feet, barely feeling the shattered glass prick her palms, her entire body numb and moving like an automaton, completely outside her own consciousness.

Slowly, she steps toward James, her James, frozen and cold to the touch as she runs her hand over his arm, fingers lingering on the cuff of his shirt, the suspenders strung over his shoulders, his perpetually crooked glasses, the grim set of his jaw. His gaze still set as it was, on her, as the life was slowly leached from his body.

His hunched position brings their heights closer together, a torturous mimic of his posture when he leaned in to kiss her. “I’m so very angry, and yet still so glad you were mine.”

With gentle hands, she cups his cheeks and presses her forehead to his, barely conscious of her actions as she murmurs like some uncontrollable impulse, “ Novus lapis vibrus .”

She shifts until her face is buried against his neck, the warm, heady scent of him replaced with nothingness as her tears slip over the smooth marble. 

A low tremble rumbles through her bones and she topples backward and only just manages to keep her feet. 

Blinding light fills the room and Lily can’t help but bring her arm over her eyes. And just as quickly as it appeared, the light is gone and the stone slowly begins crumbling before her as the sun reemerges and lights the day.

That’s when the final blow to her grip on her composure lands, as she sees the last she or her child have of James begin to fall away. Blood streaked pieces fall to the ground at her feet and where she expected nothingness, deep hazel eyes slowly blink back at her while the remaining marble crumbles.

With a half crazed exclamation, Lily stumbles toward him and begins pulling the stone away from him. At least until his arms are free and he pulls her into his chest and she feels the glorious rhythm of his bounding heart. In between kisses placed to every bit of him she can reach, Lily murmurs his name, grasps every living, breathing bit of him she can.

When he chuckles against her mouth, she pushes his chest, tears welling against her will. “What the bloody buggering hell was that?”

“Saving you, our little one, and then as a result at least a lot of people in our vicinity,” James answers as he pulls her close and they melt to the floor.

Slowly, he runs his fingers through her hair and her breathing calms enough for her to bite back, “I’m glad you’re alive because I could kill you James. I really - “ her throat closes up, “I thought you left me, left us.”

“When you love someone, it’s eternal,” he says, quiet, “They don’t leave you, not really anyway. And I love you both.”

“James I was handling it and you just - ”

“I love you,” James repeats.

“And you just had to jump in and take all the glory and do your save the world moment while I was left here like- like nothing ever changed,” Lily continues, “Except I have this piece of you, of us, growing inside me and I- ”

Her sentence ends on a strangled sob and James pulls away, swiping the tears from her cheeks, “Oh - things have changed. Lily you’ve given me - ”

His hand falls to her barely swollen belly, “Who knows what could have happened to our little one if you - and there was no guarantee.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have - ”

He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I promise next time we get the chance to do something rash and sacrificial - ”

“So you admit - ”

“- I will let you do it.”

Lily buries her watery laugh in his shirtfront. “How about we all just stay alive?”

James lifts her face so her eyes find his, “For you, my love, anything you ask.”

And then they’re drawn together like they’ve always been, his lips pressed to hers like they were forged over millennia, Lily and James, to be the perfect matched set. Shards of humanity honed and crafted through heartbreak, war, and victory to fit together like puzzle pieces.

As James sighs into her kiss, he murmurs, “Maybe we should - go find Remus and Sirius?”

Lily laughs and reaches up to hold him in place, her injured palm smarting as it drags against his hair, “They’ll be fine minding themselves for another moment. Just let me hold you - ” her voice catches.

Lily snorts. “He can’t mean himself.”

James shifts, dangling off the side of the bed to fumble on the floor for one of his boots. He pulls himself back up and spares Lily a glance only to ensure he doesn’t elbow her in the face, and then lets the boot fly. “Off with you.”

“I am a little hungry,” Lily murmurs against his lips.

Growling, James slips his arms around her middle and tugs her close. “Then eat you must!” he’s halfway to hefting her over his shoulder when Lily’s wriggling finally wins out.

“I can still walk, you know.”

“Why should you, when you’re a goddess?” James answers, dancing her around the room to some barely coherent tune he hums.

He lifts her overhead, whirling them together until they finally collapse against the door in a fit of giggles. Lily tucks herself into his chest. “Imagine when I’ve got to wrangle you and our little one.”

“Don’t forget Sirius.”

Their joined laughter is a giddy wave that carries them through the process of dressing, and at James’ prodding a bit of undressing - until they’re finally presentable and make their way toward the dining car.

After quite a bit of teasing - no less than expected - they manage to order breakfast and tuck in before the subject seems to be ready for it’s debut. Or at least James thinks so, if his frequent and increasingly dramatic glances at Lily are any indication.

He’s so giddy and childlike she can’t even begin to entertain the idea of not following his prompting. “James and I are - there will soon be another member to our little family.”

Sirius’ grin spreads across his face while Remus simply blinks at her over the rim of his tea cup. After a moment, he sets it back town in the saucer with a quiet clink. “So Sirius gets a baby brother?”

Lily lets out an unladylike snort - which doesn’t earn a second glance from her companions but does get a little haughty sniff from a table over - and James’ eyes sparkle with laughter. “I am the oldest of us.”

“I guess I have a thing for older men,” Lily murmurs against his cheek, before pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw.

Sirius mock coughs while Remus simply rolls his eyes. “So any ideas on names?”

“Something real modern,” James says with a teasing wink, “Perhaps Walburga for a girl.”

“Don’t even,” Sirius grumbles, “Pass the jam.”

“Cross millenium progeny,” Remus muses quietly once their nosy neighbor has left for the bar car, “This is the second wildest thing to happen during the annular eclipse.”

One of the staff trundles up with a cart, offering tea cakes that Lily eyes longingly before sharing a glance with Sirius. Perhaps he’s recalling that afternoon so long ago with growing hope, kindred spirits, and just enough recklessness between them to make all this…

Sirius locks eyes with Lily and his lips lift in a half smile before he nods to the woman, “We’ll take a bit of each, my treat.” 

After breakfast, it doesn’t take them long to move past giddy discussion of the new little explorer on the way and onto Remus’ mysterious reference to an annular eclipse.

Lily swipes the last petit four and bites into it with a groan that seems to distract James a bit, so Sirius is the one to usher the conversation along. “Remus, be a dear and enlighten the group on your...project.”

“You could explain it too,” Remus retorts, swiping a bit of strawberry sauce from his plate, “No need for the drama.”

The train trundles through an overpass, casting darkness over the crystal clear windows, though the golden lights inside keep them from pitch black. So Sirius doesn’t pause as he grasps their freshened teapot and tops off everyone’s cups. “You’re the expert, plus I get to do the fun things all the time - you’ve earned it.”

“Why thank you,” Remus drawls, dropping a bit of sugar into his warmed tea, “Seems we’ve got one vote in favor of getting the full exposition.”

James wraps his arm around Lily’s shoulders, fingers toying with the seam of her sleeve absently. “Let us in on it, then.”

“Always curious, this one,” Lily says with a smile as she reaches to squeeze James’ knee, leaves her hand there, “Not that I can point fingers regarding a thirst for adventure.”

The explanation starts off in vagaries, just as Remus’ inquiry had been. Just that ever present scholar in him, wanting to know the rumors, myths, and legends in the region they were set to visit. Plus a bit of healthy curiosity about James’ own history, his parents. 

Sirius orders a fresh pot of tea before things get to what he calls the ‘interesting’ bits. “Tell them about the elixir.”

“Do you want me to tell it?” Remus frowns and Sirius quirks a brow but nods. “Then let me tell it.”

Lily hides her laughter behind her serviette while James murmurs teases to Sirius and earns a kick under the table. “Yes, sir, please favor us with your continued story.”

Though he scoffs, Remus does continue, revealing a long and bloody history around this elixir that allegedly extended life first for decades, and then if used properly, indefinitely. Remus glances at James. “Does the name Flamel mean anything to you?”

His grip on Lily’s shoulder flexes. “No - should it?”

Remus shakes his head. “Not particularly - it was likely after you - ”

“Flamel is a French name,” Lily cuts in with a gentle smile for Remus’ flounderings, “The acquaintance surely came later in life. I presume Flamel connects to James’ parents?”

“Smart as a whip,” Remus says, before he continues, “I believe they looked into possibilities because of their loss - not to live longer but to bring something back.”

Lily feels the catch in James’ breath, feels him force the tightness from his hand at her shoulder. She reaches for the other beneath the table top and grasps it. “So they found Flamel, then what?”

“Your parents seem to have befriended Flamel and his wife, worked with them a bit. There’s not much record, but the connection is there if you’re looking for it.”

“And you were?” James asks.

“Well most people research to find out about Flamel, so your parents are one of dozens of connections,” Remus answers, “We come from the opposite direction, and Flamel is a stand out among a much smaller pool of acquaintances. Your father was a bit of an alchemist himself, yeah?”

“Tell them about the looters,” Sirius says, nudging Remus with his elbow.

“Sirius - have a little tact,” Lily chides when James stills, “Not everyone hates their families.”

For once, Sirius does look abashed, but Remus is quick to step in, “James’ parents graves have been left undisturbed as far as we are aware. It was the Flamel’s.”

And apparently, Sirius can’t really bear to let Remus deliver the final details, or perhaps he really is a dramatic because he interrupts, “Looking for the elixir of life. Rumor was it had been buried with them, but there was no trace. Given your father’s connection with Flamel, their partnership of sorts…”

Lily narrows her eyes, “You think the elixir is buried with Euphemia and Fleamont?”

James nudges her hairline with his nose, hold never loosening as she continues, “We might find more concrete details locally.”

Sirius snickers, “So much for a romantic trip for the newlyweds.”

“Lily’s her most beautiful when she’s plotting some research or other.”

Sirius lets out a groan, “I knew this trip was a mistake.”

“Wait,” James says as they rise to return to their compartments, “What about the annular eclipse? Where’s the connection?”

Tossing his serviette down to the table, Remus shrugs, a mischievous grin on his face, “Just a bit of excitement - as far as I know that is. Eclipses are intriguing and a bit of a spooky thing, eh?”

“We’ll pretend we believe that,” James answers, “But only because my bride would like to return to our compartment.”

“Ugh,” Sirius grunts, “I hate you.”

The station in Marseilles is a hub of activity, travelers bustling through white steam, busy porters, and that almost tangible excitement of going...anywhere. Lily accepts James' offered arm, her wedding band glinting in the sunlight, while Sirius pushes the cart bearing their trunks through the crowd. 

Remus manages to hire them a cab quickly enough, and soon they’re heading toward their hotel at a steady clip, window shades thrown wide to let the fresh sea air fill the compartment.

Lily takes a deep breath in and sighs on release. “I know we’ve got our academic and adventurous pursuits on this trip but can we at least enjoy a bit of the setting along the way?”

Sirius pokes his head out the window, squinting at the sun. “You three are the ones lusty for dust ridden books and whatever else.”

“Don’t kid yourself Sirius,” James says with a grin, “You’re just as lusty as the rest of us.”

“He’s got a thing for spending,” Remus chuckles, earning a pinch to his arm.

“Such gratitude for your benefactor,” Sirius sniffs, “Watch if I pick you as our guide next time.”

“As if anyone else could tolerate you three,” Remus says with another laugh, “Or you’d trust a random guide with grandpa over here.”

When James harrumphs, Lily drags him closer and rests her head against his shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, you’re a gorgeous, ancient fox.”

The carriage jostles to a halt and the driver tugs the door open for the foursome. Sirius and Remus exit first, with James following only to turn back and offer Lily his hand. They share a soft smile, lost to the world, and Sirius groans. “Why do we get growls and grunts for teases about your age but she just gets doe-eyed adoration?”

“Are you having my child?” James asks, eyes never leaving Lily’s as she picks her way down the steps.

Their driver studiously avoids eye contact as he lifts their trunks from the cab with the bellman. Lily has to bite back a smile as Sirius murmurs, “Well you never asked.”

“You really are an odd thing, Lily,” Sirius muses, polished boots click-clacking on the cobbled street.

“Thank you?”

A swift wind off the sea nearly takes her hat as they cross the final intersection before the library. Her free hand lifts to hold the straw bonnet in place while the other remains firmly in the crook of Sirius’ arm. 

Once they reach the library doors, Sirius drags it open and gestures Lily inside before his whispered reply, “You spending the first real day of your honeymoon in Marseilles with me, your ‘brother’ to research your husband’s dead parents’ involvement with the spooky alchemy.”

“Life extending alchemy,” Lily corrects, “No ghosts or spectres here.”

Though they’re both proficient enough in French, Sirius’ accent is much more refined and thus arouses less suspicion - aside from the whole ‘man escorting a woman’ bit that works in the same way - so she lets him take the lead. Even though it chafes.

Once he’s gotten them permission for browsing, learned how to request books, etcetera, they head for the local history room and begin their search. 

It’s hours before they begin hitting exactly what they’re looking for, details on burials in the right span of years. Tracking down the Flamels is much simpler and there’s a lot more detail about their lives pre death. Including some speculation and actual accounts of their alchemical experiments.

“Sirius,” Lily whispers, nudging him beneath the table, “Do you know anything about Flamel’s personal library?”

“As in journals?”

“Journals, notes, anything from his research library,” Lily elaborates, continuing to scan the page, “I think we can find out more about this elixir he worked on.”

Sirius nods, “Might do to get some books on alchemy and eternal life myths as well.”

They split tasks between them, Lily’s arms aching with the weight as she stacks book after book against her chest. Until finally, the load is heavy enough that she ends up propping them against her hip and pauses her search. It’s not as though she can read all of them at once. Try as she might.

Sirius already has three books spread across the table in front of him, a fourth in his right hand while the left pulls bits of smuggled biscuit from his pocket.

“You’ll get caught and we’ll be thrown out.”

“Not if you keep your voice down,” Sirius murmurs, brushing the crumbs from his fingers.

Rolling her eyes, Lily reclaims her seat and drags a fresh sheet of parchment closer as she wriggles her hands and prepares for more hours of cramming her writing onto the page in careful loops. “Shame Remus and James are no help with French.”

Sirius hums. “Though this way we get to share just the information we like.”

“That’s not how marriage works.”

“And this matters to me?” Sirius whispers, “And don’t roll your eyes at me again, they’ll be stuck that way.”

Lily cracks open a book gently and turns to the appendices. “James would understand.”

Quiet hangs between them, nothing but the sound of Lily’s pen scratching across the blank page, Sirius flipping through each tome in turn. Until he asks, “So you really tell him everything? Isn’t that - grating?”

“It’s a relief,” Lily says after a moment, “I look forward to sharing it with him, it’s no burden.”

“Quite unrelatable, that feeling,” Sirius says, “Secrets are the air I breathe, the youth elixir to my ever-beautiful face. But really - no secrets?”

She hums, thoughtful as she flips to a new page. “There was something, back in December.”

Sirius perks up, like a dog sniffing out a bone. “Go on.”

“Remember how mice got at the last of the mince pies?”

His grin could be seen from the top of St Paul’s. “Yes.”

“It was a rather large, red-haired mouse,” Lily adds, “And James never knew.”

“You lied,” Sirius gasps, “As a newlywed. Horrors never cease.”

They share Sirius' stashed biscuits and manage to get wrapped up enough in their studies that their midday meal comes and goes without notice. It’s no surprise given what they…

Lily’s mind is filled with translations of half formed apologies, open ended interpretations, and a horrible feeling in her gut. It’s all she can think of - all other concepts flitting in and out of her head. Food leaves her mind altogether, until Lily faints and nearly falls from her chair.

As she blinks away the blur, Sirius’ worried face looms overhead. “Shit.”

The librarian blusters, waving her handkerchief and letting out indistinct but clearly distressed noises. “Sirius you’ll get us expelled.”

“You’re the one with all the fainting dramatics. Academics can’t handle this type of excitement.”

Lily sits forward on the chaise, apparently having been moved to some musty back office, and droops back against SIrius’ chest woozily. “Hell. Don’t tell James?”

“What about absolute truthfulness?”

“This falls very firmly in stolen mince pie territory,” Lily grumbles, getting a hand hold on the back of the settee and pulling herself upright. 

While she breathes, long slow inhale, even slower exhale, Sirius retorts, “You know there are gentlemans’ obligations of truthfulness.”

“Since when are you a gentleman?”

Sirius sniffs.

“Or a subscriber to social mores?”

As she rises to her feet, Sirius slips a protective arm around her shoulder and guides her toward their gathered belongings. “I liked you better unconscious.”

Alégō.

The word haunted her, ringing at the back of her head and rendering most of her afternoon after finding that stupid postscript of a notation on what she’s fairly certain is what passed for a last will and testament back in James’ time. Her explorations of the local histories and journals led to death records and then - there it was.

Sirius tried to reason with her, or as she called it, stretch reality until it was completely unrecognizable. And here she was pregnant, full of emotions she really is not enjoying, and trying to decide just how ominous that word could really be.

All in the wake of her proclamations about truthfulness with James.

Not that she’d hide something like this, or that she’d have reason to. James is their best source on interpretation of the text, both as a native speaker and the closest connection to Fleamont and Euphemia. Maybe Sirius was right. There was plenty to regret with James gone.

But the whole mournful script felt like an apology. Like the sadness was ongoing, even beyond their deaths.

Even now, the feeling weighs heavily on Lily.

She swipes the escaped tears from her eyes, forehead leaned against the window and curtains thrown wide so the fresh sea air fills her lungs.

The carriage comes to a halt outside the hotel, bellmen coming to their aid almost comically fast, and definitely too quickly for Lily to get her emotions fully dealt with before coming face to face with one.

By dipping her head, Lily manages to hide her face beneath the straw brim of her hat, letting Sirius handle the machinations of their return to the hotel. Once they enter the cool, marble floored interior, Lily takes Sirius’ arm. “I should like a night alone with James.”

He hums.

“I would make that more of a request, but we are married and I feel if I give you too much leash to control my schedule this trip you’d have entirely too much fun,” Lily says with a smirk, “Can’t let all that power go to your head.”

“So ungrateful - have you considered I financed your marriage?” Sirius chuckles, “Practically dowried you.”

“You hired me for a chance at adventure,” Lily retorts, “And now you’ll arrange dinner for myself and my husband.”

“What a soft touch I turned out to be,” Sirius sighs as he guides Lily over to the lifts. “Head on up - James should be there already.”

Lily frowns, confused as she steps onto the lift. “But he and Remus - ”

“My compatriot and I plotted to ensure at least one honeymoon-esque evening, if only to ensure we weren’t forced into an entirely swotty holiday in the Riviera.”

Sirius walks away with a wink, whistling as he slips his hands into his pockets. “Have a lovely evening, my dear sister.”

The lift clatters its way up two levels, the operator offering Lily a stiff nod as he slides the gate open and waits for her to exit. Sun-rosied cheeks cool the longer she enjoys the luxe hotel, plush carpets cushioning her heels that had click-clacked in the foyer.

By the time she’s reached their room, Lily’s worked the buttons on her gloves free and already pulled her hat pins from her hair. It’s only a rapidly decreasing sense of propriety that keeps her from beginning to loosen the stays of her dress.

After fishing the heavy key from her purse, Lily drags the lock open and pushes inside and continues her work at freedom from the constraints of her stuffy clothes. It’s something she has not missed in her little corner of the world, the pressures and demands of civilized society. Which often seems more like a way to control the masses and keep women stiff, quiet, and docile. Lily’s never enjoyed fitting any of those descriptors.

“Lily?”

Lily smiles and drops her hat, indiscriminate and uncaring, already moved on to freeing her poor pinched toes. “I’m home love.”

“Excellent timing,” James says, emerging from the little parlor and drawing her into his chest, “Remus’ arrangements for our dinner have just arrived.”

“Matchmaking a married couple with a child on the way,” Lily laughs, “Seems a bit overzealous, eh?”

James begins pulling pins from her hair, one by one, teasing. “I have no arguments if we are gifted a night alone and guaranteed free of interruptions.”

And just as Lily begins to relax into his arms, let the tension drift from her body bit by bit, James moves them further into the suite. “First, before anything more carnal - we satisfy our required appetites.”

“Hm, that felt rather important,” Lily grumbles, even as she discards her overdress and loosens her corset with sharp tugs, distracting James exactly as she’d hoped.

He blinks away the fog in his eyes and points an accusing finger her way, “None of that - we feed you and the little one. After you get comfortable.”

James turns and begins lifting covers from their dishes, setting aside the polished metal lids with deft movements. Lily lifts her petticoats overhead, tosses them over the back of a chair and walks toward the wardrobe in just her chemise, letting the loose collar slip low. “James.”

He hums.

Lily smirks. “How comfortable?”

“As - “ James turns and loses track of his thought for a moment, “As comfortable as you like.”

Her brow rises, coy. “Well I think the same should apply for you, Iacomus.”

A spectrum of emotions flutter across his face and settle on mischief. The exact mischief she hoped to stir, the type that will lead to a long, slow build.

James flicks his suspenders from his shoulders, slips the buttons on his sleeves free, does the same for his shirtfront. All while maintaining careful, heated eye contact with Lily. “Only fair, I suppose.”

Lily does the same, perching on the edge of the settee to carefully draw the hem of her chemise upward, and slowly roll her stockings down to reveal her legs bit by bit. “Only fair.”

Supper is a blur of heated glances, fresh bread, decadent dishes, and the only thing in sharp relief is the steady weight of James eyes, always on her, always warm.

The last of her souffle eaten, Lily turns her attention back to her husband, his curls wild and unkempt, glasses crooked, and decidedly boyish overall. That sly grin only made worse by the bit of chocolate caught at the corner of his mouth.

Lily rounds the table and leans into James’ space, her hands grasping either arm on his chair. His head tilts back to follow her movements as she slowly tips in, kiss soft and seeking as she swipes the chocolate from his lip, chasing the taste of him underneath it all. No matter how long she’s had him, every day feels borrowed, or even in a better mindset, like a gift. Feels like she can’t waste a minute of it with hesitation or anything less than devoted pursuit of everything they are together.

His hands come to grasp her waist so he can lift her into his lap, remarkably un-clumsy in the process, particularly since his mouth never leaves hers. And when it does, it’s only to groan her name.

She sighs his in response, slipping his shirt from his shoulders so it catches on the chair back. He shoves them back from the table so Lily can readjust, knees bracketing his thighs while his palms slip up her spine.

They only break apart so he can discard her chemise, take in the miles of revealed skin like he’s never seen it before, like she’s precious.

Lily’s long overcome the inclination to blush and instead finds herself mapping each inch of his skin, fingertips tripping over each scar, line, or wrinkle that decorates his body, lips following haphazardly until her hands rest over his waistband. “Off.”

James pauses his ministrations, the strokes, tweaks, and squeezes dragging her to madness, and does as she asks even as he laughs at her pout. “Such a princess you are.”

Lily licks her lip as she watches him undo the buttons, rising on her knees when he lifts his hips to remove the last barriers between them. “I know what I like, and what I want.”

“Is that so?”

She nods as her hands explore the newly revealed skin and draw a moan from his lips. “I see no reason to deny it. Particularly when the likes and wants are so very mutual.”

His chuckle turns to a pant against her neck as he lays wet kisses across her shoulder, down her arms, sporadic until he lingers at her chest.

Lily presses forward, leaning into the delicious rasp as she readies for their joining. James’ teeth nip at her dusky skin when she squeezes teasingly. The moan ripped from her throat reverberates against the walls. “James.”

As the sun truly sets, their bodies are lit only in golden shards from the dying glow of the fire as it crackles in the gilded hearth. Lily rises to her knees once again, this time noting their reflections in the mirror over the fireplace, her swollen lips and debauched expression, his rippling back and hair set even more wild by her desperate tugs.

She can barely breathe as she sinks down and James swears against her collarbone, already marked by his earlier explorations. Her back arches and James keeps his grasp on her hips, letting her take what she likes as he adores her with every press of his lips.

Her pace increases with the rapid beat of her heart and soon James can’t bear their setup any longer, banding one arm around her waist and standing so quickly she barely has a moment to grasp his shoulders, wrap her legs around his hips.

Lily’s first thought was the bedroom, that luxurious bed waiting to caress their bare skin, but as tempting as it sounds she’s on the precipice and it feels like she almost can’t fathom the idea of waiting any longer than necessary. 

And apparently James is of the same mind as he simply strides over to the chaise and lays her back against the brocade seat, never letting their bodies separate even as he lifts his knee to the cushion and pushes forward once, twice, a third time, lifting her hips and tossing his head back. “Lily.”

He growls and suddenly he’s looming over her, their faces a breath apart as he mutters broken phrases against her lips and drives them both over the edge, her hands grasping at him, both desperate for nearness.

Once Lily nearly shouts out a loud ah, tugs his hips closer, lets her nails bite into his glistening skin, James’ movements become faster and more erratic until he lets out a strangled groan and droops against her while their heartbeats slowly calm.

James attempts to pull away, but Lily tightens her grip and guides him to lie behind her against the chaise back. “Not so fast.”

He grasps her waist. “You’ll fall.”

Lily nuzzles against his chest. “Guess my svelte husband will just have to hold me close and not let go.”

Having him close, close as they could be, was something Lily craved like her next breath and she could hardly bear to let him drift away. Especially after today’s findings, however vague, that felt like an expiration date set on life as she knew it. It was odd, feeling such fear, trepidation, when nothing had really changed. There was no study, no academic pursuit she could rest in - the fear came from a damn feeling. And feelings relent in the face of carefully reasoned arguments.

It’s quiet, save the crackle of the fire, when James tightens his arms around her and murmurs, “You’ll catch cold.”

Lily hums as James’ fingers find her hair, pulling through the strands from root to tip.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“We were pretty vocal not long ago,” Lily says, her laugh a bit hollow. And of course James doesn’t let it go. She wouldn’t.

“Lily.”

“James.”

Gently, he guides her chin upward so they can somewhat awkwardly hold eye contact. “Let me in on whatever’s troubling that brilliant mind, eh?”

Breaking away from his hold, Lily hides her face in his neck and busies her nervous fingers with drawing lines between the scars that litter his chest. “I found more about your parents, about their - it was something like a last will and testament. I will show you all of it, of course. But they used a word - alégō.”

James doesn’t move and keeps her held close so she can hear his heart thud in his chest, feel his breathing stutter.

“I should’ve told you right away.”

He sucks in a breath. “We were a little occupied, my Lily.”

And before she can argue, he continues, “My knowing now or four hours ago - nothing would be changed. It’s been thousands of years. What are a few hours to all that time?”

Lily sniffs and swipes at her eyes, though she can’t help but tease him. “Even with your considerable abilities, I don’t think we reached four hours, love.”

His laugh rumbles through his chest. “I was including dinner.”

She runs her hand up his chest and into his hair, rubbing at his scalp. “In all seriousness, it’s - we’ll need you to look it over. We’re not really positive on the meaning, the implications.”

James sits up and lifts Lily to follow, her legs thrown over his lap, and kisses her long and deep. “I swear I will,” another press of their lips, “ - can we just have tonight?”

Lily touches her forehead to his and laughs wetly, “You talk like I’m a slave driver.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone, you are,” James says with a fond grin.

She hums and nips at his neck, her hands dipping to tease him, “Not always a bad thing, yes?”

“I suppose not,” James grunts as she shifts in his lap.

Her voice is entirely too breathy as his questing fingers leave all thoughts of innocence behind.

James’ answer is a low growl. “And we are quite alone for the day.”

“Sirius?” Lily asks, eyes drifting shut as her lips part in a sigh.

Suddenly she’s on her back with James hovering overhead, linens twisted around them and his body a hard line along hers. “Perhaps refrain from using other people’s names in our bed?”

Which is a silly request, out of context at least, since they regularly discuss all sorts of business in their bed. But the low tone of his request, the heavier than normal accent that lilts his words, and Lily can’t really bring herself to nitpick.

Especially when he kisses his way down the front of her nightgown and nudges the hem up to her rib cage.

Or when he descends lower and tugs meaningfully at her garment until she lets it fall to the floor in a gauzy heap.

His shoulders are broad and muscled as he works, worships each inch of her skin and sends her somewhere out of body.

After - it could be seconds or years she’s not quite sure - James works his way back up until they’re face to face looking like the cat who got the cream.

“Don’t smirk at me like that, sir,” Lily grumbles, her fingers twirling his curls absently.

He leans forward to kiss her jaw and collapses over her, face buried in the pillows.

As the sun rises, sending golden beams across the plus bedspread, Lily works James’ shoulders.

“You know this just won’t work,” she pauses until taking his muffled response as invitation to continue, “If you want to take care of things you can’t be a no good lump.”

And just to ensure he fully grasps her meaning, Lily subtly rolls her hips. James gasps against her throat and swears - at least she’s fairly certain it’s a swear. Language gap and all.

His hands return to her hips as she fiddles with the tie at his waist, earning a groan when her fingertips brush his sensitive skin. “ Lily .”

She hums. “Yes my love?”

Then he’s flipped them over, bed creaking beneath as she’s set on display for all the world to see. It’s lucky they've got the house and property to themselves for the day. So far it certainly hasn’t been a quiet morning.

Lily lets her fingers tease over his bare chest, toying with his sparse hair and mapping each scar and sinew until she works her way further south. And pauses.

“Don’t tease a poor old man,” James groans, looking too adorably puppy like for someone she is about to ravish.

Quirking her brow, Lily begins working the tie of his trousers loose and before long they’re both bare. Years later and he still takes her breath away like the first time they met in a cold, dark cave.

Though he was equally as caught up, James’ patience runs out and he nearly unseats her with a tilt of his hips. Instead she tips forward and their foreheads knock together.

“ Ouch - can we avoid concussing ourselves?”

“Can we - ” James wriggles his brow and grins at her.

Adorable. Tempting. Very tempting.

She does as he asked, or hinted, their twin gasps muffled by the thick velvety curtains hung from the bedposts.

Lily’s hands find the headboard as she tilts and twists and sighs while James’s grip on her hips tightens. “ Lily .”

He pulls her close, palms running slowly up her back until her lips are a breath away from his. Eyes half-lidded, Lily murmurs, “ Iacomus .”

With something like a growl, he arches into her, their dance lasting only a few more ragged thrusts until they’re both flushed, elated, and utterly spent.

It’s over lunch - their first meal of the day despite their early waking - that Lily picks up their earlier conversation regarding anniversary plans. “If this morning is what I receive for three months, I can’t wait to see what you give me for our golden anniversary.”

James smiles soft and a little sheepish as he reaches across the table. “Well this morning wasn’t your gift - hopefully it won’t pale in comparison.”

Lily lifts his hand and presses a kiss to his calloused knuckles. “Quite hard not to but I have faith in your ability to outdo yourself. I also have an additional gift.”

“Shall I go first?” James asks, taking a long drag from his glass.

“But of course,” Lily says with a wink, “Can’t have you suffering the emotional turmoil of presenting yours after mine has so outmatched it.”

Rolling his eyes, James rises and disappears for a moment. Presumably to the study given the length of time and the fact that he returns with a thick stack of envelopes.

“Carrying on with the postmaster already? Our love is so young,” Lily jokes, even as she tries to spy the contents of the letters.

James reclaims his seat, pushing his empty plate aside and clearing his throat importantly. “ These represent negotiations for an upcoming excursion to the location of your choice, provided there’s something historic and possibly fantastical for us to get caught up in.”

Unable to control her whoop of excitement, Lily jumps from her seat and embraces James before disappearing from the room. She calls out, “You are never going to guess - ”

“I take it you’ve got a compatible gift?”

She returns quickly enough, her own paperwork in hand, suddenly feeling a sting of hesitance. It had felt like such a lovely idea before James was staring at her with his untucked shirt and wide fawn colored eyes and those silly crooked glasses. Now, now it just feels like she’s about to crush him. “It - it’s a complicated gift.”

Smiling gently, because for all his years as a battle hardened warrior and his cheekiness to boot, James is the softest, sweetest man she’s ever known. “Come here, my love.”

He doesn’t relent until she’s perched on his knee, papers propped on her lap. James is patient, letting her work things through with no interference but his steady hand on her back and occasionally wandering eyes.

Finally, Lily takes a deep breath and begins, “I thought - this seemed like a loving, thoughtful gift at the time but now. I won’t be offended if you say it’s out of line.”

“Darling.”

Lily pauses. “Yes?”

“I may seem a soft touch, but I can handle a bit of turmoil - emotional and otherwise.”

With a sigh, Lily presses her forehead to his and lets her eyes drift closed. “You recall my secretive research project?”

James hums.

“I - ” Lily pauses, toying with the paperwork in her lap, “I found your parents - where they’re. Where they are. I know we found details before, but now you could go pay your respects. We could.”

He stiffens, but rather than pushing Lily away like she’d feared, his grip tightens as he drags her closer. “You’d use your gift for - there must be something more enjoyable.”

“Remember to whom you are speaking. I am a historically inclined research librarian with a millenia-old warrior for a husband,” Lily cuts in.

Laughing, James presses a kiss to her forehead and melts into her touch. “Don’t make me sound like an aging relic - need I remind you how virile I remain?”

“I would not say no.”

“James will like it,” Sirius says, voice heavy with that sickly sweet tone he uses when he really wants something that doesn’t seem likely, “It’s like a Dionysia.”

“I didn’t attend when it was a Dionysia,” James drawls, eyes not leaving the book in front of him, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Lily surreptitiously eyes Sirius, who - for all his blustering - seems genuinely disappointed to be out a companion for the evening. “Perhaps you should go.”

James looks up at her, marking his page blindly. “I don’t particularly wish to attend - especially since you’re not invited.”

“Ladies very rarely are, love,” Lily smiles, “At least the worst that will take place at this particular ‘gentleman’s club’ is a bit of drunken revelry.”

His grin is lopsided as he rises and presses a kiss to her brow. “Alright, but I am giving myself a midnight curfew.”

“It will be at least two before we are home, my good Iacomus.”

After sharing a commiserating glance with LIly, James turns to Sirius, “What does one wear to such an event?”

The following three quarters of an hour were spent in a mix of dressing and dragging James from his reading in the library - he says his life deprived him of the finer things for too long to allow literature to be neglected now - until finally the pair disappeared in Sirius’ hired carriage.

That had been ages ago, or at least it felt so, and Lily has realized she’s no longer quite as comfortable alone as she had been. Each new note she makes on her research feels a little diminished without being able to prod James with her pen and share, her tea cools without someone there to top it off, and dinner goes entirely neglected until her stomach rumbles angrily at half past ten.

Eventually, she settles with an egg over hard and a few triangles of toast in the kitchen and a new novel in hand so time passes a little faster. By the time she’s tidied up, Lily finds her eyelids drooping and readies herself for bed, sheets too cool on her own.

She can only toss and turn for so long before giving up and flicking the lamp on to a low glow to read by. And luckily, she hasn’t lost the ability to get entranced by a well crafted story so before she knows it the front door is slamming open to the tune of raucous laughter.

Followed by shushing. “ Sir-Sirius .”

Oh, James is drunk.

“Iacomus.”

“Why - ”

Fairly quickly, James devolves into a slurred question that is definitely not in English. He is very drunk. The front door falls shut, if the thud is anything to go by, and soon one pair of feet are shuffling through the hall and toward the bedroom.

James stumbles his way in, collar crooked and tie loose, and Lily being alive can’t help but take in the whole enticing tableau. His hair, slicked back for polite company, has begun falling from its coiffe so ringlets fall messily around his face and his glasses sit precariously low on the tip of his nose.

As her eyes drag lower, she finds the first buttons on his shirt have been loosened and watches as he jerks himself free of his suit coat revealing those shoulders and his suspenders. Which are surprisingly attractive for a purely practical garment piece.

With unexpected deftness for the level of intoxication Lily presumed, James flicks the remaining buttons of his shirt open and does the same for his sleeves before dragging the suspenders from his shoulders so they dangle around his hips.

And then, he’s shirtless and golden in the lamplight and apparently unaware he has a very attentive audience.

Or so she thought.

“Enjoying the view?”

She may flush, but he is her husband and she’s entitled to a bit of self indulgence, so Lily sets her book aside and rises from the bed. “So far, it has been acceptable.”

He saunters closer until they’ve closed the distance between them and somehow Lily’s back is pressed to the dark patterned wallpaper. James flicks his curls back with a twist of his fingers. “I should hope there will be an opportunity for redemption.”

Lily lets her head tilt backwards as James begins teasing at her jawline with his lips. “Always - though it would seem you might not be up to the challenge this evening.”

“Sometimes, to outwit one’s opponent one must let him believe he has won,” James murmurs, popping three of her borrowed nightshirt’s buttons open in quick succession and letting his hot breaths follow the path. His eyes flash in recognition.

“How devious,” Lily sighs, “You’re not too - ”

“I was raised on Greek revelry and libations,” James says as the last button on Lily’s front is worked free and her nightshirt drops to the floor in a heap, “Your modern spirits are child’s play.”

Lily grins even as a shiver runs up her spine. “Well then - ”

Her retort is cut off with a groan as James hefts her up against the wall, his arms tensing beneath her legs. James’ mouth finds hers, the kiss long and deep before he pulls away, breathless, “Perhaps the time for talking has passed?”

Lily hums as James works his way down the long line of her throat, the closeness of his body to hers nearly taking her breath away. “But you - you love talking your way through things .”

One of James’ hands comes to grasp her closer while the other smacks flat against the wallpaper, inches away from her head. “ Lily .”

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m beginning to think you’re taunting me.”

With a roll of her hips, Lily draws a strangled moan from James’ lips and grins, triumphant. “Glad to hear you’re finally - ah - catching on.”

Between the two of them, fumbling hands and all, James’ trousers are worked open just enough. “Choose your next words carefully, my love.”

Lily drags her hands over his chest, not too proud to acknowledge her trembling fingers as they link around James’ straining neck.

Using the leverage she’s gained, Lily brings them just shy of exactly what would be most pleasing and nips at James’ ear. “I know what I want right now, and there’s nothing careful about it, Iacomus .”

Taking her invitation for what it is, James lets out a grunt and shifts to close the last space between them.

Lily muffles her shout against his shoulder, kissing her way up to his neck as he shifts and sends a zing of pleasure through to her toes.

In her shock, Lily bites at his corded neck, leaving a welt and surprisingly winning a pleased growl from James as his hand thuds against the wall.

Despite herself Lily manages a laugh, strained though it is, and soothes the nip with a kiss. “Enjoyed that, did you?”

James grunts, pressing closer to murmur into her ear, “You should not toy with me right now.”

Lily cracks her eyes open enough to see his smirk and Sirius’ responding chuckle.  A small smile rises to her lips even as her stomach roils again.

She must let out a groan because soon James is shooing the boys away.  “We are going to lie down.”

“Royal we, eh?” Remus says as he shoves Remus’ legs from his lap and makes for the door.

Lily opens one eye.  “But we are a we.”

“What do you say Remus, perhaps we can find more enjoyable company elsewhere.”

The door slides shut and James slips the lock into place and begins pulling the bedclothes back while Lily slowly peels her travel clothes off her achy body.

When she leans forward to unbuckle her boots, the room spins and it feels as if she’ll resume her new exercise routine.  “James, I hate to ask.”

He pauses with the bed halfway unmade and takes the two necessary strides to kneel at her feet.  “Not to worry.”

Soon enough, she’s changed into soft pajamas - stolen from James’ trunk - and he’s lifting her into the suspended bed.

As the plush pillows cushion her head gently while James brushes hairs escaped from her plait back from her face.  Slowly, Lily blinks her eyes open and James smiles down at her, eyeing the chains that hold the bed platform.

Lily laughs quietly.  “I am afraid we will not be able to keep to our usual routine.”

He winks, “Don’t be so unimaginative.”

She chuckles again, but goes quiet when James’ grin softens and his fingers continue their soft strokes.  “What is it, Lily?”

Her hesitation means a lost chance to broach any sort of conversation with James when the door slams open, the lock chain hanging awkwardly while Remus nearly shouts, “I told him to leave you be.”

Sirius pays him no mind, reaching James side and grasping his shoulder.  “They’re playing cribbage in the club car.  James, my boy, we can hustle them.”

Even in her discomfited state, Lily can see James’ excitement - add that to the list of things she finds disgustingly adorable about him - and honestly she should probably just sleep.  No need for James to linger while she does.

“Off you go, James,” Lily says with a smile, “Have fun, I’ll sleep whatever this is off.”

She sleeps soundly, a luxury that hasn’t been hers since they left England, until the door slides open and closed with a gentle clack of the useless chain.  Once Lily blinks her eyes open, Lily sees James clumsily pocketing the compartment key and balancing a tray of something or other balanced in his other hand.

James grins and sets the tray down before turning up the lamp, warming the blue moonlight to golden.  “Sleep well?”

Lily hums.  “I sleep best on trains it seems.”

Slowly, because Lily still doesn’t trust her stomach and overall rebellious body, she sits up and twists so her legs hang suspended from the bed.  She can practically feel the effort it takes James not to rush to her side like an overprotective mother hen, but he does allow himself the reassurance of settling a broad palm on the small of her back.  

As she takes her seat at the small shelf table tucked against the window, James lifts the lid on the tray and sits close to her on the bench.  “I know it should pass, but I figured you weren’t looking for something heavy.”

Cautiously, Lily lifts a spoonful to her lips and takes a tentative drag.  James watches her closely and Lily chafes with things unsaid, things she’s barely considered herself and now - the spoon falls from her hand with a clatter.

With a frown, James pulls her into his lap and pushes her hair back from her face.  “My Lily never hesitates to speak her mind.”

Lily takes a deep breath.  “I am - we are - we are going to have a child.”

He freezes for half a second and Lily feels as though she’s just lept from a hot air balloon until he lets out a whoop that’s entirely too loud for this late in the evening.  His eyes are brilliant with excitement and before she knows it, he’s got his arms banded around her middle as he leads them in a celebratory waltz around the compartment. Which incudes the expected bangs, bumps, and bruises.

When Lily’s laughter becomes to much, he lifts her as if she’s light as a feather and sets her atop the bed again, tugging at buttons and pulling at her borrowed nightclothes.

“James - James.”

Heedless of her interruptions, James continues pressing kisses to every bit of skin he uncovers, only pausing to grin at her with a thousand times the power of the look he gives a train or a steamship.  It’s the happiest she’s seen him and that’s when it finally hits her, the reality of everything and she tries to drag his face to hers.

And still, James doesn’t comply with her prodding, only unbuttoning her shirt far enough to reveal her belly - still smooth and unchanged despite all that’s going on beneath.

“You can’t see anything, love.”

This finally catches James’ attention and he peers up at her, eyes wide behind smudged glasses. “When?”

Lily brushes back his curls and he complies when she pulls his face to hers.  “I would guess, assuming my backward calculations are correct that it will arrive next summer.”

James kisses her, once, twice, and follows when she drags him over her and lets him slot between her legs while his arms surround her ribcage.  He’s been this close to her countless times by now, shared her bed and her heart for long enough that Lily sometimes feels like they need each other to breathe.  But here, now, with his eyes lit and his cheeks flush with happiness, it feels like she’s truly learning him for the first time.  She’s lived over a quarter of a century and James for endless ages longer and this is a true first for them both, a beautiful real life moment that Lily’d never dreamed.  

Sitting up abruptly, without noticing James’ bereft expression when her head is no longer pillowed on his chest, Lily’s eyes light with excitement.  “Beowulf was a great hero, particularly among his people, the Geats.”

James’ lips purse almost unnoticeably.  “So what did he do exactly?”

Lily kicks off her boots and pulls her feet up on the couch, face alight with excitement.  “The usual heroics – defeating monsters, liberating people.”

Remus takes in James’ unimpressed expression and bites back a smirk.  “Mostly, people thought he was a myth, so among other things this could prove he existed in the first place.”

“So he defeated this monster, Grendel,” Lily continues, nodding to acknowledge Remus’ point.

“And later Grendel’s mother,” Remus adds.

“Yes!  They had been tormenting the Danes in Heorot for – how long?”

“Relatively?”

Lily laughs, “Sure.”

“Eventually, he was slain by a dragon – but not before he delivered the killing blow,” Remus concludes, nibbling on a biscuit.

Caught up in the excitement of their story telling, Lily’s not noticed James’ silence or vaguely pouty expression, but Sirius – ever watchful – has.  Still, his perceptiveness does not include a propensity for respect of social mores, so Sirius pushes up on his palms and sends James a sideways smirk.  “Lily dear, I do believe our Iacomus is feeling a bit tossed aside.”

Scowling, James kicks Sirius’ shin rather roughly for someone who’s not upset, “Don’t be daft.”

Lily quirks her brow, but slips her hand into James’ and scoots closer so they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip, earning an exaggerated gag from Sirius.

Shaking his head and laughing affectionately, Remus settles his feet cross-legged on the table and snuggles down into the plush armchair.  “Anyway, Sirius’ contact has reason to believe one of Beowulf’s swords is soon to be in demand.”

“For some nefarious purposes,” Sirius agrees, nodding.

James lifts his arm and gestures for Lily to lean against his side, and after she’s tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder, she turns her gaze to Remus.  “What’s the lore, then?”

Remus hums thoughtfully for a moment, “Generally, the power of swords is associated with the might of the person – in this case Beowulf - who wielded the blade with success.”

Nails scratching lightly at Lily’s scalp, James puts in, “There’s a general history of blood or venom imbuing blades with power.”

Lily’s eyes get a far off look, and the three men can practically hear the gears turning in her head before she murmurs, “What about someone who bested a sword.”

All three turn to her and Lily doesn’t give much clue to her train of thought aside from stating a seemingly unrelated idea.  “Peat bogs have preserving capabilities.”

She sits forward and James shares a glance with Sirius and Remus, wondering if his inability to follow Lily’s thoughts is some ‘I’m from another millennium’ problem, but they each look equally flummoxed.  James twists around to follow Lily’s circuits as she paces behind the settee and she looks at the boys excitedly.  “We need the sword that Grendel defeated.”

“I’m fairly certain Beowulf strangled Grendel beyond sword-defeating capability,” Sirius drawls, but James shushes him.

“Yes, but then Beowulf needed proof,” Lily says quietly, eyes distant.

James turns around fully, tucking one leg beneath him.  “Which would mean he’d have beheaded Grendel,” Sirius raises his brows and James shrugs, “standard procedure.”

Remus bites his lip.  “So the bog…”

“We need the hilt,” Lily begins and Sirius finally catches on, cutting in, “And undead Grendel.”

Lily rolls her eyes as the boys exchange excited looks, “Not undead.”

Remus nudges James with the dusty toe of his boot.  “Good – we’ve got enough ‘should be dead but aren’t dead beings floating in our orbit’.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Lupin,” James grumbles mulishly, “I think your experience with me has gone pretty well.”

“So far,” Lily teases, swiping a biscuit and taking a healthy bite.

“Don’t make me take back the proposal.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Flopping back onto the plush carpet, Sirius sighs, “Nah he really wouldn’t.  Iacomus is well and truly gone on you,” Lily squeezes James hand and Sirius groans, scrunching his eyes shut, “It’s quite disgusting.”

Remus sighs and Lily just snuggles into James’ side, undeterred by Sirius’ teasing.  “So where’d you get this tip?”

There’s an almost unnoticeable pause before Sirius answers around the rim of his teacup, “A friend.”

“Not good enough,” Remus drawls from his perch on the armchair.

“I figured as much,” Sirius murmurs, “It’s from Albus Dumbledore.”

Lily and Remus let out twin groans and James is lost, while Sirius straightens, showing that steely aristocratic backbone he only whips out on the most deserving of occasions.  “Don’t tell me what I already know, you two snobs.”

James quirks a brow, “Anyone care to enlighten a poor, uninformed, elderly man?”

All three immediately turn to provide the requested information, but Sirius cuts across Remus and Lily, much to their chagrin, “Lord Dumbledore is a wealthy aristocrat with a reputation for backing – unusual endeavors.”

Remus snorts, “If by ‘unusual’ you mean completely insane and dead end then, yes, unusual.”

Despite her initial harsh reaction, Lily’s been uncharacteristically silent for the last bit of conversation and James is the first to turn toward her, letting the other two argue.  “Lily?”

Chewing her lip, Lily pulls away a little so James’ hand falls to her waist.  “I – well Dumbledore does have a bit of a reputation that I admit to believing, but,” she brushes her fingers over the rough nap of his trousers, “If I had been a famous Lord while I was looking for you – ”

She lets the sentence drop and a small smile tilts James’ mouth, “You’d have seemed just as odd, eh?”

Lily nods and James presses a kiss to her forehead, lingering and affectionate, “You’re too good for any of us, my dear.”

“Because I decided to stop being a hypocrite?” Lily asks, wry.

“Because of your heart,” James says simply, eyes crinkling with his grin just for her, “It sounds a mite soppy – better in the Greek I think.”

Remus is halfway through a rant on Dumbledore’s claims that he’d found and conveniently hidden the secret to eternal life because he feared its effects on society when Lily clears her throat.  “It’s worth a look, yeah?”

Summer’s well and truly over when Lily and James find themselves tucked together on the deck of a steamship called Aeterna, fall winds whipping through their woolen coats like pinpricks on skin.  They’re one of the few milling about above deck, and definitely the only passengers there, and the crewmen who find their daily tasks demand aboveboard actions tend to move as quickly as possible.

Which affords them a nice sort of loneliness, and allows for more familiar behaviors that general society would frown on.  Nothing too untoward, but if Lily tucks her harms inside James’ jacket and rests her cheek on his scratchy jumper, no one’s near enough to care.  And James’ arm doesn’t have to be twisted to get him to wander the decks despite the chill, largely because he seems to feel and endless tug toward the red head in his arms that’s only staid when she’s near enough to touch.  But secondarily, anything cave-like tends to grate on him after a time, leading him to surmise he wasn’t quite as unaware of the millennia he spent below ground as he’d like to think.

Still, he’s rather well adjusted all things considered, having got past bursting from below barefoot and trembling when the cramped cabin walls seemed to close in around him.  Sirius had woken that night too, only making himself known by following James at a slow pace, fully dressed and bearing a coat and shoes which he handed over wordlessly before lighting a cigar and wandering far enough away that James could let the tremors work through his limbs naturally.

When Sirius finally wanders close enough to speak, James is somewhat returned to himself and fully expects some sort of inquiry as to his night terrors.  Slowly, Sirius rests his forearms on the rail, gazing out at the inky sea lit by the silvery glow of the moon.  “Did I ever tell you about the time I almost won the title to Bagshot Park off Prince Arthur in a game of pinochle?”

And even though he knew precisely what the other man was doing, his question was just the right level of absurd to draw a startled laugh from James’ chest, breath fogging the night air.

That had been – weeks ago.  And slowly but surely, James manages – with help – to sleep through most nights.  He still has a preference for the wide open waters though, so when he can, he tucks himself into copious layers of clothing and tugs Lily with him like a very human, very gorgeous, very brilliant, hot water bottle.

His lips brush her hairline, his lower back pressed against the railing as the boat rocks beneath them.  “So the Geats, eh?”

Lily lets out a cold sounding laugh and snuggles closer.  “That prompt doesn’t really give me guidance on what information you’re looking for.”

Before he can clarify or tease back, a third figure emerges to join them with that jaunty lope that can only be associated with a certain disinherited Lord Black.  “I do not appreciate the amount of time I’ve spent in frigid temperatures since making your acquaintance, Lily.”

Lily laughs again, her breath warm against James’ throat.  “Don’t lie, dear brother.  I make your life exciting.”

“Maybe.”

“Besides I’m better than Lucius.”

Sirius squints at the darkness, pulling a cigar from his coat and silently asking Lily’s permission, which she gives with a nod.  He lights the tip expertly so it glows orange in the night and sends a warm vanilla scent floating across the deck.  “I think dried out flan is better than Lucius.”

“That is the shade of his hair,” James puts in, having become briefly acquainted with Sirius’ prat of a cousin one unexpected day in London.  The trio had been locked in an awkward sort of dance, all well aware they were on very opposing sides in what was nearly an underground war of sorts that year, but Lucius had always been a bit weak-willed and at least knew he was no match for Sirius and an ancient warrior in a brawl, so he’d just sent a stiff nod in their direction before contusing down the crowded street and disappearing down a winding byway, carefully polished boots clicking against the pavement.

They’re silent again for a bit, comfortable and familiar, before Lily murmurs, “Besides, it’s nowhere near as cold as last time, you big baby.”

Despite the chill, the first snows haven’t arrived yet and aren’t projected for a few weeks, leaving the foursome to travel by carriage from the docks to the city center. It’s bustling with merchants selling freshly caught fish and salted meats alongside bright smelling herbs and dry cheeses. Once they’ve broken past the bustle into the meandering streets, the shouting turns to the steady rumble of chatter as neighbors and shopkeepers exchange pleasantries and barter between themselves. Their guide is relatively silent, only pointing out landmarks he thinks to be of particular interest and Lily really does try, but the days of travel and her extensive and borderline obsessive research if the region over the last months means she could probably accurately guess exactly where each part of the wagon jostling beneath them was imported or exported from.

Still, only those who know her best would be able to tell, which is why Sirius sends her a teasing glance, Remus sends her a commiserating grin, and finally James - showing his particular expertise in all things Lily - draws the driver into a conversation.

“We’re interested in a bit of sightseeing in the countryside. What’s the best way to travel with ease?”

The coachman, Frederick, scratches at the thinning hair beneath his dark cap. “If y’ want speed and maneuvering, horses are likely your best bet,” he glances over his shoulder, eyes lingering on Lily for a moment, “assuming everyone in the party’s capable riders.”

Sirius looks half indignant and half eager at the slight on Lily’s abilities, likely battling between twin instincts to fight on her behalf or wait and see what maelstrom she unleashes in the face of sleep deprivation and questioned sportsmanship.

Remus puts on a somewhat forced light air and shakes his head, “You’ve got a keen eye Freddy. I’m not much for equestrian pursuits. Raised in the city as I was.”

“Important trait to have, that,” Sirius nods, winking at Lily as James picks up the thought. “Aye. Would be right embarrassing to make snap judgments about a person’s abilities and talents only to be proven woefully incorrect.”

Frederick flushes but doesn’t answer beyond a jerk of his head, jostling the horses wordlessly as they trundle toward the inn.

It’s early afternoon by the time they’re fully registered with the management and everyone’s simultaneously famished and exhausted, lounged in the cozy guest parlor, a crackling fire warming their bones.

“Dinner’s at six?” Sirius asks.

Remus chuckles to himself, “Yes, and it seemed non negotiable, if Mrs. Nilsson’s scowl was anything to go by.”

And despite the fatigue that weighs heavily, Lily’s got other appetites to fill, ones that have been deprived for what feels like ages.  “I saw a nice sort of pub a few streets down.”

James’ eyes light at her meaningful glance and he stands, brushing off his trousers. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit if you don’t mind the company.”

Sirius snorts. “Don’t try and run away to the Royal Shakespeare Company either of you, you’re right terrible actors.”

Grinding despite himself, Remus nudges Sirius with the toe of his boot, “Leave them alone you git.”

Placing a kiss on Remus’ stubbled cheek, Lily trots up the creaky stairs to retrieve her coat and James follows to do the same. And if they take a bit too long and look a bit too flushed for a single flight of steps, Sirius and Remus manage to hold back their teasing. Largely because of Lily’s lofty expression and promise to “forget” Remus’ hatred of halibut and eat all the bread on the way home.

They’re quiet for a dozen or so steps, shoes clacking on the uneven cobblestones while Lily leans into James’ side, arm tucked through his.

“So.”

“So,” Lily parrots.

“Now that you’ve got me alone, what would you like to do with me?” James murmurs, warm breath sending her flyaways floating around her face.

Clearing her throat, Lily doesn’t break stride despite her thudding heart. “I think you know very well - I demonstrated it pretty clearly, I thought.”

“I have been called a slow learner,” James laughs as he and Lily stop off at a bakery too tempting to ignore.

Both light on being together and the rewarding, heady feeling of finishing a journey, James and Lily make casual chatter with the baker and his wife, which is not only polite, but also ends up with lots of free ‘samples’ to gobble down as they browse.  By the time they’ve made their selections – sweet breads and a parcel filled with hearty rolls.

They also get a recommendation for a local tavern – after being quickly warned away from their intended restaurant with a wince and reference to the fact that there are on occasion large numbers of unwanted four legged patrons that frequent the storage room.

When they arrive at the Sword and Anchor, it’s that odd time between lunch and dinner where the occasional stray dish and customer alike linger in the forgotten corners, but the rest is like a ghost town, albeit a clean and welcoming one.

Bergljot, the bar matron, introduces herself and sends them a warm grin as she returns from the washroom, hands and apron damp as her sharp blue eyes assess them.  “Late lunch for two?”

There’s a beat where James hesitates, he’s still a bit shy about his odd accent in public, but he must be buoyed by the easiness of their time at the bake shop and maybe the squeeze of Lily’s hand on his arm, because he’s the one to answer lightly, “We’ve got a couple of companions who’ll be very distressed if we return with only enough for two.”

“Four of you, eh?  Why not eat here?” Bergljot suggests, wiping down the bar top, “We’ve got a local group of musicians coming in tonight to play.  It’ll be a wonderful night.”

They share a look between them, and Lily can see that behind the weariness of travel, James is carrying too many years of everything – and if she needs a night of lightness, then he must be aching for it.  So she sends him a subtle grin and turns to Bergljot.  “What time?”

The boys are fairly easy to convince and Sirius is nearly vibrating with the prospect of getting to see Remus ‘loosen up’ which he seems to believe will include a fair amount of drinking, singing, and dancing.  And despite Remus’ eye rolls and huffs at each of Sirius’ proclamations – and James and Lily’s eager agreements – he seems to be playing the part of ‘grumpy old researcher’ rather than exhibiting genuine distaste for the prospect of a night spent reveling.

Still, James holds him back once Sirius and Lily disappear into the garden, already comparing their mental catalogues of drinking songs.  “You could speak up, Remus.  If you really don’t want to go.  None of us will mind a quiet night in,” James murmurs, quiet, before he chuckles under his breath, “Probably the most sensible thing to do, eh?”

Remus laughs and ruffles James’ hair with his spindly, scarred fingers.  “You really are a mother hen.”

“I’m just trying to – “

“Cluck, cluck,” Remus says, sniggering as he wraps one arm around James’ neck and squeezes playfully.

Shoving at Remus’ side boyishly, in that way that’s almost shocking considering his entirely un-boyish age, James scowls, despite the smile tickling at his lips.  “May all your ale be just too warm and your fish tinged with a hint of too much brine.”

“Shouldn’t you mention my first born too?  Maybe you’ve forgotten how ancient curses work, in your old age – “