oh darling.

A flower restless on a vine, Alice could tell Lily was slightly at a loss what to do with her days without work. The tapping of the fingers, the churning of her mind - life without a definitive purpose felt empty. In a way, Alice almost envied her friend, wondering what it would be like to feel that way once more, to crave that office and it’s job. Half of her did, but half of her felt as if those thoughts belonged to a different woman. It was funny, how near-death chased away the brightest of dreams. Fumbling fingertips couldn’t bring them back. These days, her wandwork was reserved for what some might consider the mundane, the simple. No doubt her opponents would underestimate her, regard her as a broken woman. Let them. 

Having served all the customers, Alice checked once more to make sure Neville was napping (it seemed better to keep him from Lily’s line of view, out of sight and out of mind), before turning her attention back to her friend. “It was Frank’s idea to institute a whole-range of plant based flavours.” At the time, her nose had scrunched at the flavour ideas, but he had coaxed her around to the idea, as he always did. “Crazyberry is probably the only one that I would feel comfortable giving a friend.” Tilting her head slightly, Alice paused, wondering whether to ask the obvious question. “How’s suspension? They given you the greenlight yet? You only did what half the world wishes they could.” Whilst the other half cozy up. “It’s not like you wouldn’t have done it without a good reason.” She knew he was Alecto’s husband-to-be - and that she should have been a cheerleader - but Lily was her friend too. And she owed Lily, given everything that happened, more.

Lily knew the reason Alice and Frank didn’t really take Neville wherever either James or her were going to be, and she appreciated it. She knew they were doing it to protect them - and perhaps during the first months after what had happened they had been right. She wasn’t proud of it, obviously, but during her worst moments there had been times where her mind had gone there; to that terrible what if. It didn’t happen now. It had taken time, and a lot of pain in the process, but she had understood that one thing wouldn’t have prevented the other; and she felt genuinely happy for her friends, happy they both got to be the lovely parents they deserved to be, happy that the Lestranges had been stopped on time, before anything worse could have happened.  

She smiled, and nodded firmly. “Crazyberry it is. That does sound like Frank, though. The whole plant meets ice cream idea. It’s a wonder he hasn’t asked you to name four flavours like the four Beatles.” Alice’s question had her shrugging slightly, not fully know how to answer that just yet. It sucked, if she was being honest; but she was getting used to it, she had to. “Not good, actually. My boss refuses me to tell me if I’m ever going to get my job back or not. I guess he’s waiting for bloody Yaxley to decide, and he didn’t allow me to appeal the decision either. Oh I know I did. Half the people I ran into at the Ministry have congratulated me already. Someone even gave me a lollipop.” She huffed. “You know me. I don’t go around slapping people across the face. That’s more of a Sirius thing to do. But Al, you should have heard them, the way they spoke to me- about James, even about Harry. It was terrifying. You have no idea what’s coming, they said. How was I supposed to stand there and do nothing after that?” 

From the perturbed furrow of Percy’s brow, pinching at the skin above his spectacles, it was clear that he didn’t quite have a handle on the where or the what of the sprouts he’d been tasked with ensuring his uncle brought home, only that the responsibility was clearly his to ensure that it happened. “Uncle Gid won’t tell me,” he finally settled on, because narking without even a hint of pressure was one of Percy’s specialties.

Gideon, politely, ignored it. 

“You could say that,” he agreed, prodding at a jiggling box of chocolate frogs thoughtfully and watching one of the cartons jump. Percy was perhaps one of the only children he’d met that was so thoroughly impervious to the concept of bribery, it made the task of being the wayward uncle that much harder. “I believe young Percy here isn’t so much a fan of bribery, but perhaps he could be tempted by a sugar quill?”

Head craning towards his nephew he received merely a stern shake of the head in response. “Apparently not.“

Percy seemed to consider Lily’s proposal with far more interest, as if the prospect of back-up in the increasingly difficult task of keeping his uncle on course was an appealing one. He came to a conclusion with a firm nod and extended a tiny hand as if to shake on the matter before extending his pinky instead with an entirely too serious, “Pinky promise?”

Gideon choked back a laugh, clearing his throat and turning away to regain his composure as the transaction was completed, retaining some semblance of calm by the time he dared to glance in Lily’s direction, lips twitching even as he searched her words for the edge that lingered beneath them.  “Fabian may have mentioned it. Personally, I think a promotion is in order, but that’s the Ministry for you.”

Once again, Lily’s brow furrowed playfully, pretending to give a scolding look to Gideon. “Uncle Gideon! That’s so wrong! This partnership isn’t going to work out if you don’t tell us where the sprouts are! We have a mission here and Percy needs to make sure we achieve it.” Suddenly her voice was solemn, imitating the one of a captain perhaps. “If you withhold information from us, you will be accused of treason and all your chocolate frogs will be confiscated.”, she chuckled, unable to keep the charade going; but with a little bit of luck Percy wasn’t going to notice. 

The kid, however innocent he might have seemed, was truly unbreakable. She would have melted at the mention of sugar quills at his age, but apparently this was not the case. However, her next proposal was taken more seriously, and she smiled softly. At first it had been hard to interact so freely with children like that. Every little thing reminded her of Harry and she had been afraid to break down at the first sign of laughter. However, it hadn’t happened. She had seen Neville, then little Dora, then Fabian and Gideon’s brothers - and everything had turned out fine. 

“Pinky promise.”, she repeated, softly tangling Percy’s little finger between hers. She looked back at Gideon and laughed once more. “Come on uncle Gid. We need to go look for some caramel flavoured sugar quills and then sprouts it is.”

Percy seemed focused on the new mission, however different from the original one was, so she turned to her friend and this time her voice was a little more serious than before. “I feel the same way. I know everyone’s going to ask me to write a formal apology or something like that if I want my job back - and that’s the best case scenario. But honestly? I’d do it again. I don’t regret it, not even a little bit. You should have heard the things that monster told me.” 

     ‘There’s a muggle cafe, two blocks over,’ she said, pointing in the direction of the place; she tended to use muggle establishments when she wanted to make sure what she said wouldn’t end up in the Prophet the next day, or on the desk of someone with the power to stonewall whatever she was trying to do, kept a few quid on her just in case the need arose. It was a safer place to talk about this than anywhere Yaxley or their allies might hear.

It wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, she knew that; in fact, she’d been dreading it since she heard what had happened, dreading it even more since she spoke with Yaxley the day before. She wasn’t surprised, and disappointed felt too parental, but she wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Concerned was vague and non-specific. Frustrated was a little better. She didn’t like it.

     ‘You know, Lily,’ she said, once they were a block away, not breaking stride or making eye contact as she spoke. ‘There are two types of people in this world: those who are principled, and those who are political.’

Lily nodded as they started walking towards the place. She understood Millicent’s idea to go there. There were many reasons why purebloods wouldn’t follow them. First, because they would most likely have a heart attack surrounded by that many muggles, but also because any of them would stick out like a sore thumb. Their fancy robes would look absolutely ridiculous to anyone there. At least that meant the woman still cared about their safety, which had to be a good sign, right? 

Since childhood, Lily had had this irrational fear to disappoint authority. She never lied to her parents, she often played by the rules, and even when she didn’t, she made absolutely sure she could never get caught. As she grew up, that fear had faded slightly. Nonetheless, now that Millicent was next to her, not even looking at her, she felt it vividly - as if she was a little girl once more, waiting for a scolding. 

“Can’t you be both?”, she asked with a sigh. It was a stupid question, one she already knew the answer for - but she needed to ask, because she didn’t see how that was impossible. She refused to believe principles and politics were mutually exclusive. 

At the sound of her voice, Dedalus couldn’t help but smirk a bit. He folded the corner of the page before closing it and gently returning it to his bag.

There weren’t many people Dedalus held close in this world anymore. But of the few who qualified, Lily was the least expected of the bunch. He still remembers a few years ago when she first arrived in the Order. She had a few useful charms, but truly didn’t have the training or experience that others did. Putting her out on the field would’ve been terribly irresponsible.

He took her under his wing, mentoring her in more than just combat. Logically, Dedalus knew it may have been a mistake to establish a deeper connection with someone who would be endangering their own life on a near-daily basis, but Lily’s light was difficult to ignore.

“Years of practice and a need for survival,” he noted, his head turning towards the direction from which the woman approached him. “We’re born with five senses, Lily. The loss of one doesn’t make us useless, it simply means we adapt the others.”

Dedalus moved aside, folding his cane for her to sit on the bench beside him.

“I was just making sure ‘The History of Magic’ was translated correctly. Nothing exciting,” he uttered softly. “Anyways, how have you been?”

Somehow Dedalus always managed to have wise words to offer. Perhaps it was the Ravenclaw in him what made him so talented at it. Sometimes she wised she could have that temper; that she could be able to stop her blood from boiling every time someone said something against her friends, or her late son; or even every time she saw a Death Eater walking free among them. Perhaps if she had that ability, she would have been able to stop herself from slapping Yaxley across the face. 

“I know it doesn’t. I would never call you useless, quite the contrary I’d say. However you have to admit you adapt way better than most people without one of their five senses. I was actually trying to be quiet back there.”, she smiled, her voice fond, as she took her seat. 

He hadn’t agreed to mentor many people, and sometimes she wondered what he had noticed in her to make him want to teach her. Yes, she had been a brilliant student, and she was really good at defensive charms. She had won almost every duel she had participated in at school but that had been just that, a school exercise. Real life was different, war was different - and yet Dedalus had been there, with the patience of a teacher and the words of a friend, ready to train her. 

“You’re translating The History of Magic? Merlin’s beard! That’s one of my favourite books of all time. How’s that going?” Lily practically beamed, and she was sure he could perceive the excitement in her voice. However, her tone became softer at his next question. “You know, could be better. Have you heard about my suspension?”

He didn’t care about slow. He could go slow, he was great at slow. He’d known all along that whatever happened, it was going to take time. But just the fact that she was considering it, the fact that she was talking to him, acknowledging that maybe they weren’t better off on their own, that was more than enough for him. 

He reached a hand out, running a thumb across her cheek to wipe away some of the tears that she had missed, and then – for the first time in so long – let himself linger there, his skin against hers, her smile contagious until his face began to ache from it. 

     ‘Step by step, yeah,’ he said, surprised by the giddiness in his own voice. ‘Of course, absolutely.’

He wanted to kiss her. But that wasn’t slow, that wasn’t step by step. And, after all, they were still standing in the middle of the lobby of the Ministry, Merlin knows who standing around them. Not the time or the place.

For a second she eased into his touch, falling into the comfort that only he seemed to bring. Everything looked better when they were together like this, and she even dared to wonder why she had given up on them in the first place. Pehaps she had needed the time, this whole year, to process and realise this was the better option - that their love was worthy of a new chance. 

If he had kissed her right then, she would have kissed back. Lily knew he wasn’t going to, though. First, because she had just asked him to take it slow; but also because they were in the middle of the Ministry, as much as they had forgotten about that a couple minutes ago. 

“Step by step.”, she repeated, nodding. “I think that coffee and the muffin I told you about earlier is a good place to start, what do you say?” 

there's an old voice in my head that's holding me back, well tell her that i miss our little talks;

let's join forces, we've got our guns and horses; i know you've been burned, but every fire is a lesson learned i left my house, left my clothes door wide open, heaven knows you're so worth it, you are; 

She was still suspended, at least for another week. She knew Millicent had promised to give her news whenever she found out about anything, but still she couldn’t help but getting impatient. Was she ever going to get her job back? Only time could tell. As she observed Alice coming and going, serving the ice cream with her wand, she thought about her working here; about her making that conscious decision to leave the Aurors office and start once again. Was she going to be able to do that if the worst happened? She wasn’t that sure. 

Nonetheless, Lily wasn’t there to question that, or to even ask her friend about it. She was there to check on her, like she usually did whenever she got some free time - and now she had a ton. “So what’s the weirdest flavour you have?”, she asked with a smile, her elbows on the counter and her chin resting on her hands. “Every time I come here I order the muggle ones. Perhaps I should be bolder this time.”

Like the rest of them.  That was the problem.  Enough of a problem that someone had taken vigilante justice.  Murder.  Death.  It wasn’t what anyone wanted, least of all Ted.  Taking someone’s life was not justice and demanding an eye for an eye would never bring peace.  “No, he didn’t deserve it.  When is this going to stop?”

Visions of the Ministry during the most chaotic times of the war sprung to his mind.  Crowds fueled by fear and desperately seeking information they would not always find.  “I’m sorry.  I can imagine what it’s been like.  Thankfully it’s been quiet here.”  Anything important he shared with Lily he understood might be shared with the Order and he was glad of it.  Circumstances limited what he felt he could do but that did not mean there wasn’t a desire to aid the efforts of the Order in what ways he could.  Lowering his voice, he continued.  “Everyone’s talking though.”  Ted rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with what he was relaying.  “A few wizards came in panicked, thinking they wouldn’t be seen because they thought something catastrophic must be happening but there’s been nothing.  Just confusion and concern.”

If there was a reason to be concerned beyond his current level of worry he hoped she would tell him but things were uncertain all around and he didn’t expect news.  Like every other magical person in the country, he and his family would try to make sense of what had happened and do what they needed to continue to feel safe.

That was the key question, wasn’t it? When was it going to stop. For a second Lily had thought it had. When everything had fallen apart, her only consolation was that at least the rest of the world was going to be okay. Then the Lestranges had been released, and Peter hadn’t been convicted. They were all there, free, walking around as if nothing had happened - and she knew things were not over. “I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that it’s not going to if Rodolphus Lestrange wins those elections.” 

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what the Ministry was going to look like under a Lestrange administration. The Muggle Relations office closed, all contact broken most likely. And that was probably the less of the evils that man was planning to impose. She blinked a couple times, listening closely to what Ted had to say. Even passing information like that was dangerous sometimes, especially for a muggle born, so she was always thankful for whatever he could give her. “It’s strange, isn’t it? I feel like something else is happening but they won’t tell anyone. I’m sure the Ministry is hiding something about this case but I can’t really figure out what.” She sighed. 

“It’s just unsettling, you know? I have this constant sinking feeling like something big is about to happen and we’re just oblivious to it. As if we’re lambs going to the slaughter.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m being terribly pessimistic today am I not? Perhaps I’m just imagining things. It’s hard not to be paranoid all things considered.”

It was her smile that did it – the words were so unexpected, he barely processed them. But her smile, that familiar heart-aching smile that he’d been in love with since the first time he saw it, twelve years ago, across the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, well… that said everything that needed to be said, didn’t it? 

He hadn’t expected this. He’d thought he’d spend the rest of his life trying to persuade Lily to give him another chance, that he’d end up giving up again and that she’d move on with someone else, someone with less baggage, someone whose face wasn’t a constant reminder of the child they’d lost, the trauma they’d endured. A part of him had hoped that she’d be happy again, someday, with whoever that person ended up being.

But now… now there was really a chance. There was really some hope for them. For him. He couldn’t help but smile, too, a little breathless, a little overwhelmed by the surge of joy in his chest, somehow – for once – uncomplicated and pure. 

     ‘D’you really mean it?’

A soft laugh escaped her lips, as her cheeks turned to a light shade of pink. She couldn’t help it. It was the effect James had always had on her, before everything that had happened between them, before the pain and the loss. She moved one of her hands to wipe the tears off her face, and just then realised she was still crying. However, these were different tears, ones that came from happiness. 

Yes, it was going to take time. They weren’t going to be completely all right immediately, they were going to have to get used to being together again, as two people and not three. Nonetheless, for the first time in months, she was hopeful. Truly hopeful, not pretending to be as she had been for so long. She was eager to see what was going to happen. 

Lily smiled again, this time wider, as she looked up at him, a little nod following. “We need to go slow, though. I don’t want us to rush into anything. Let’s take it step by step.” Let’s come up with some ground rules, she wanted to say, but she knew that that was probably going to ruin the moment. “But yes, yes, I absolutely mean it.”