James nearly choked on his tea as he stared at the headlines on the front page of the Daily Prophet. He coughed repeatedly as the bitter liquid stuck in his throat and his eyes started watering.
Sirius glanced up from his own breakfast and said, "Serves you right for drinking tea."
James rolled his eyes and shoved the newspaper at Sirius. "Read this," he snarled.
Sirius took the newspaper and started reading.
James rubbed his eyes and glanced around the kitchen. Sirius had become an almost permanent fixture at the Potter home since Remus had gone on his extended holiday. It felt like they were fifteen again, and Sirius had run away from home, but had yet to inherit money from his uncle.
Sirius finished reading the newspaper and set it down on the table. Although his eyes had narrowed slightly and a frown drew his brows together, he gave no other reaction.
"Well?" James prompted.
Sirius shrugged. "What did you expect? Your article about the contributions of Muggleborns to society might have delayed Abraxas Malfoy's legislation, but you couldn't stop it. With Lysander Lestrange and Mrs. Morrison working on it… they had the support."
"I can't believe they bought it. All this rubbish… why can't anyone else see that it is hogwash?" James growled, glancing down at the headline once more.
Newly Enacted Protection of Magical Heritage Act to Protect Wizarding World Culture.
"I'm sure some people do," Sirius answered. "The article does say that your father and the McKinnons both came out strongly against the legislation, and the Prewitts, Weasleys, and Bones have all also…"
"But just the fact that it was passed at all," James said irritably. He shook his head, then gave Sirius a scrutinizing look. "Why aren't you more upset about this? I expected you to be charging out of the house to confront the Malfoys yourself."
Sirius smiled wryly. "Well, I did get satisfaction from punching Avery in the face," he admitted. "And I am sure I would feel the same if it had been Abraxas Malfoy…" He trailed off with a thoughtful look and added, "Actually, it might even be more amusing… totally worth it just to see the look on my dear mother's face…"
"Padfoot?" James interrupted Sirius' musings.
Sirius sighed. "But it's not enough anymore. A fleeting moment of satisfaction? We have to do more." A pause, then, "Remus left."
"He went on holiday," James answered. Sirius opened his mouth to protest, and James continued quickly, "I know he went on holiday because of all of this. I know he's running. But… he will be back. Maybe all he needs is a little bit of time away from everything to… to start thinking more clearly."
Sirius raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You really think he's going to come back on his own?"
James smiled grimly. "If he doesn't, we'll drag him back." Sirius still didn't look convinced, so James said, "It is different for him, Padfoot. Harder. He is a werewolf and he can't change that. You and I have less to risk - there are people who will support us. And some of them are very powerful purebloods. But for Remus… even half-bloods and Muggleborns can be prejudiced against werewolves. He has a lot more to lose."
"So because it is harder for him he should run away?" Sirius drawled sarcastically.
"No," James replied, "but… maybe it isn't enough for us to tell him that he's worth fighting for. Maybe he needs to figure it out himself. And maybe… that just takes time and a little space." He looked down at the newspaper again. "This is the real world, Sirius, not Hogwarts. Things are more complicated here."
"Don't I know it," Sirius grumbled. Then he gave James a nonplussed look and asked, "When did you become mature and responsible?"
"You did, too," James retorted.
"You take that back, Potter!" Sirius demanded, and chucked a piece of toast at James.
James just laughed and swatted the toast away. "You're the one who just said that punching someone in the face isn't a good long-term solution," he pointed out reasonably. "That is a different attitude than you had at Hogwarts."
Sirius grimaced, but didn't argue the point.
The two continued to eat in silence for a few more minutes. James was still stewing over the article, and although the brief banter with Sirius had lightened the mood somewhat, it was hardly enough to banish the gloomy thoughts. The very fact that this Act had been enacted was an insult to everything he believed in - and now it would be even harder to fight prejudice against Muggleborns. How could he hope to accomplish anything if the very Ministry was against him?
Then he looked over at the clock on the wall and jumped to his feet.
"Merlin's beard," he cried frantically, "I have Quidditch practice in ten minutes!" And he rushed from the room.
"So much for responsible," Sirius muttered under his breath.
Quidditch practice was uneventful. James thought he had flown relatively well, but Shaw had been as strict and ruthless as ever, and the final scrimmage had seemed to drag on forever. In the end, James was tired and sore, and Shaw still didn't think it was enough.
He scheduled another impromptu practice for the next morning.
"Bloody practices," James muttered as he stripped out of his Quidditch robes and into Muggle clothing. He enjoyed Quidditch, of course, and flying usually helped clear his head. But the constant practices were starting to turn this into a chore.
He ran a hand through his hair and surveyed the rest of his teammates. They were chatting easily with each other, exchanging quips and barbs and laughter. He could see the exhaustion in their expressions, in the lines on their faces and the way their shoulders slumped forward. But it was only a physical exhaustion, whereas his weariness seemed to be mental as well.
He pondered this as he slipped unnoticed out of the changing rooms and started to walk across the pitch.
He was a good Quidditch player. He was a great flyer, and he knew how to read people in the air, how to make fairly accurate guesses on what they were about to do based on the way they handled their broom. He understood the strategy, he practiced all the right plays and feints…
So why wasn't he enjoying this as much anymore? He had loved Quidditch at Hogwarts, and nothing had really changed since then.
Except that everything had changed since then.
He glanced back at the changing rooms. A lot of students were good at Quidditch while at Hogwarts, but only a few ever made it professionally. He had always known that it would take more than talent and luck - he had to truly want it.
And he had. This was what he had always seen himself doing when he left Hogwarts.
Had that changed? Had he changed? Did he no longer want to be a Quidditch player?
His thoughts wandered to the new Act making it more difficult for Muggleborns to find positions at the Ministry, to the sight of Vanessa lying in the hospital bed at St. Mungo's, to Mr. Pettigrew's shop going up in flames, to Sewelyn Lestrange's threats. And he thought of Remus who had gone on holiday to get away from werewolf prejudice and Lily who had had her dreams of continuing on in the medicinal potion program ruined because she refused to give up on Wolfsbane.
Was it that he didn't want to be a Quidditch player enough, or was it that now there was something else he wanted to do more?
He was nervous.
He didn't have a reason to be nervous, he reminded himself as tried in vain to flatten his hair. He'd already gone on one date with Lily - even if neither of them had known it was a date at the time - and that had gone well. There was no reason to expect that the second date wouldn't be enjoyable, too…
Except, of course, that given the track record of his relationship with Lily, it would hardly be out of character for everything to go horribly wrong now.
He forced the thought away and gave up on his hair. Lily would just have to accept the fact that his hair looked messy and windblown - and hopefully believe that he hadn't done it on purpose. And he would have to remember to not run his hand through it during the date.
He took a deep breath. He could do this. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
Unbidden, the image of being trampled by rampaging hippogriffs came to mind.
"Now you're just being ridiculous," he muttered to himself. "You are not going to get attacked by random magical creatures."
He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked along the corridor to the door of Lily's flat. Then he curled his hand into a fist, raised his arm, and rapped his knuckles against the wood.
The door opened a moment later and Lily stood there.
She was wearing a dark green skirt and a black top and her hair was loose and messy, and, as usual, he could only think that she was stunning. She smiled at him, and looked just as nervous as he felt.
"Uh… hi," he said.
"Hi," Lily replied. She hesitated for a moment, then glanced over her shoulder at the interior of her flat and asked, "Do you want to come in or should we just… go?"
"Whatever you want," James replied, hoping that was the right answer.
"Um… alright… let's go, then," Lily said, stepping through the doorway and closing the door behind her. She looked around, then asked, "Are we walking or…?"
"Apparation," James replied, extending his arm to her. "You don't mind, right?" he checked quickly. They had Apparated to her flat before, and he knew that she could Apparate on her own, so he couldn't see why she would have any problem with it. But there were witches and wizards who hated traveling by Apparation, and he didn't want to start out the date by making Lily dizzy or nauseous.
"Of course not," Lily assured him quickly, resting her hand on his arm. "Where are we going?"
Feeling a bit of confidence returning, James said airily, "Oh, I thought we'd go flying."
Lily snatched her hand back. "Please tell me you're joking," she said, eyebrows raised.
James laughed. "Of course I'm joking, Ev… uh, Lily." He stumbled for a moment, her first name still feeling odd on his lips, but then smirked, "Do you really think I'd plan something I know you hate?"
"Well, the idea isn't that farfetched," Lily shot back, lips pursed. "You used to go on in sixth year about how I'd like flying so much more if I just took lessons from you."
"Oh, hey," James said, eyes lighting up at that memory, "that wasn't a bad idea, actually."
"Potter!"
"I thought you were going to call me James now."
"You're still Potter when you annoy me."
James sighed. "The date hasn't even started yet and we're already arguing," he remarked.
"Yeah… I don't think we're ever going to stop arguing," Lily replied, replacing her hand on his arm. "We wouldn't be us if we did." She smiled up at him. "Just promise me you'll never make me go flying and we'll be fine."
"I don't know, Lily," James said with a mock-serious look, "I'm not sure I can make that promise."
The redhead rolled her eyes. "Let's just go."
James grinned and turned on the spot, Disapparating and taking Lily with him.
They reappeared in a small park. The grass-covered ground sloped gently downwards towards a gravel road, and most of the park was surrounded by tall oak trees. There was a play structure in the center of the park, complete with two swings, a slide, and a creaking seesaw.
"Where are we?" Lily asked, glancing around.
"A bit outside of York. My family used to own a summer estate near here," James explained. "We would come here when I was much younger." His family had sold the home during his third year at Hogwarts when his mother had first gotten sick. He hadn't been back to this part of England since.
Lily stepped away from James and walked over to the swing set. "There was a little park near where I grew up, too," she said. "My sister and I used to play on the swings in the summer." She turned around and gave James a wry smirk. "Of course, that was before she thought I was a freak."
James wasn't sure how to reply to that sentiment, so he cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "There is a picnic table beyond the trees just there," he pointed behind Lily, "and I brought along a picnic basket."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
With a flourish, James produced a tiny basket. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
"A shrinking spell?" Lily asked with an appraising nod. "Or did you bring miniature sandwiches?"
James laughed. "You're not the only one who is good at Charms, Lily."
Lily raised her eyebrows and said, "Well, I'm impressed. And a little surprised. I had assumed you would plan a date that was a bit more… dangerous."
"Well, my original plan was to have us break into the Ministry and dye the Minister's hair purple, but I didn't think you'd approve," James replied dryly. Lily bit back an amused grin, and James pressed on, "You're not disappointed, are you? Because if you want dangerous, I can always go back for my broom…"
"Don't you dare!" Lily interjected. She climbed onto one of the swings and said, "And no, I'm not disappointed."
James tucked the tiny picnic basket away, took a seat on the other swing, and said, "I thought maybe we could just… talk. Share stories."
"Stories?"
"Well…" James trailed off for a moment, feeling foolish. It had taken him a long time to come up with a plan for this date. He'd wanted it to be unusual enough to stand out from any other date Lily had ever been on, but short of doing something actually dangerous and illegal - which Lily would have hated - he'd been unable to come up with a good idea.
At one point he'd been so frustrated he'd even considered asking Mary for help, but he didn't trust her not to tell Lily, and he didn't want Lily to think he couldn't plan his own dates. He'd even debated asking Sirius, but quickly discarded that possibility when he realized that Sirius would probably suggest something recklessly unsafe.
Then the realization had come - he couldn't plan a date for Lily because he knew so very little about her life outside of her studies.
He started swinging as he said, "I don't know anything about your life before Hogwarts, and I know very little about your family. Or… well, Muggles in general. And you don't know much about my family or my… non-Hogwarts life. So I thought maybe we could have a picnic and just… talk." He gave Lily a worried look. "How does that sound?"
Lily grinned. "That sounds perfect," she said.
James let out a breath of relief. "Oh, by the way," he asked, "How are things going with Belby?"
Lily burst into laughter and had to clutch at the swing's chains to keep from falling off.
"Uh… alright, not the response I was expecting," James said flatly, at a loss. The last time he had spoken to Lily, she had been worried that she would not impress the esteemed potioneer enough to continue apprenticing for him, and now she was so amused by the question that she was doubled over in nearly helpless laughter?
"Everything is going quite well," Lily said after a moment.
"Uh… alright. Well, that's good."
Lily nodded. "He said something amazing yesterday."
"Oh?" James prompted, leaning towards the redhead.
Lily nodded, a faraway look in her eyes, but didn't elaborate. They swung in silence for a minute, Lily lost in her own thoughts and James watching her quietly, wondering if she was actually going to share.
Then Lily gave him a smile and said, "We had a disagreement yesterday over the use of moondew. It's a flower found mainly in Scotland and northern Ireland. I thought it should be added to the potion, he disagreed… He told me not to add it, but after he left I did as much research on it as I could and did not find anything to suggest it would harm the potion. I even looked through his notes - he has some, you know, from when he worked on the Wolfsbane potion before… And since there was no reason that I could see not to add it, I went ahead and mixed it into the potion despite his instructions not to."
"Did it help?" James asked curiously.
Lily giggled. "Oh, no. Not at all. But when Belby came back and asked why I had added it, and I showed him everything I had looked at and explained that there was nothing to suggest that its properties would be problematic in the potion, do you know what he said?"
"What?" James asked.
Lily beamed at him. "He said that I had impressed him."
"So all you had to do to impress him was blatantly not listen to his instructions?" James asked, confused.
"No, there is more to it than that, I'm sure," Lily answered. "He said something about how I was finally willing to argue with people I respected." She paused, and pushed off the ground, forcing the swing into the air, then asked, "How about you? How is Quidditch?"
"It's alright, I suppose," James replied. "I've been a bit distracted lately…"
"Because of the new Protection of Magical Heritage Act?" Lily surmised.
James nodded glumly. "I had really thought that… that I'd managed to do something. To fight this. And yet the Act was written into law anyway."
"You're not responsible for stopping all pureblood prejudice everywhere," Lily replied gently, "and I do think the article you wrote with Vanessa Lovely made a difference."
"Not enough of one," James muttered sourly.
He didn't want to dampen the date with too much conversation about this topic, but the entire situation still made him so furious. And it left him with the bitter aftertaste of guilt. Sirius had received a letter from Narcissa which, by careful reading between the lines, had indicated that, in the end, it was actually Mrs. Lestrange who had managed to get the necessary support for the Act.
This was only the beginning, James knew. It would get worse before it got better.
If it got better.
"Well, this is a depressing topic of conversation," Lily said finally, "and aren't we supposed to be sharing stories about ourselves and our non-school lives?"
"Yes," James agreed quickly. He slanted a look at Lily and asked, "Before you found out you had magic, did you ever think about what type of career you wanted to have?"
"You mean when I was nine or ten?" Lily asked with a grin. "Actually… yes. I wanted to be an archeologist."
"An archeologist?" James repeated in surprise.
"Hmm, yes. I liked playing in the dirt, always wanted to dig up things… or be a football player."
"A football player?"
Lily stopped swinging. "A bunch of boys at my primary school used to play football after school. I always wanted to join them, but it was boys-only. And Petunia would never kick around a football with me at home because she was worried it would get her clothes dirty. She also said it wasn't proper and ladylike…" She trailed off for a moment, then gave James a curious look and asked, "Do you even know what football is?"
"Sure," James said easily. "It's a Muggle sport where you… kick a ball… and…" He frowned. "Alright, maybe I don't know that much about it."
Lily shrugged. "It's a boys' sport," she said. She was quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and then she said with a smirk, "Anyway, I doubt you would like it. No broomsticks, only one ball…"
"Sounds boring," James agreed.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it wasn't that common for Muggle women to have careers when I was little."
That took James by surprise. "What do you mean?" Although it was more common for wizards to have a full-time career than witches, he knew plenty of women, including his own mother, who had held jobs for years.
"Well… my mother, all of her friends, all of my friends' mothers… they all stayed home with their children. Cooked and cleaned and raised the kids. My mother worked part time as a secretary once Petunia and I were old enough to go to school, but it wasn't a career. There weren't really female football players or female archeologists… I was odd just for thinking that."
"Oh, I am sure you were odd for a lot of other reasons, too," James said.
Lily glared at him, but he could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "What about you? Did you always want to be a Quidditch player?"
"Actually, no. When I was really little, I wanted to be Minister of Magic."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Lily deadpanned.
"And then I wanted to be a dragon-tamer."
"I thought it wasn't possible to domesticate dragons," Lily countered.
"It's not, but I was seven, so little things like it's impossible didn't really stop me. Oh, and then I wanted to be an Auror."
"I don't know that you would make a good Auror, Potter," Lily said. "From what I hear from Frank, Aurors have to actually be able to listen to other people, think reasonably, and follow orders from their superiors."
"Did you just call me deaf, thick, and disorderly, Evans?" James shot back.
Lily raised one eyebrow. "Am I wrong?" she challenged teasingly.
She was wrong, of course, and they both knew it. James was perfectly capable of being a team player on the Quidditch pitch, and translating those skills to the Auror Division probably wouldn't be too challenging for him. But, James reflected, she was right that he wouldn't make a good Auror - there was far too much paperwork involved.
"What was your primary school like?" James asked.
Lily started swinging again. "It was alright. I had a few friends there…"
"How was your date with Evans?" Sirius asked as he slumped onto the sofa next to James.
"It was nice," James replied. "We just talked."
"Oh, talking," Sirius said suggestively. "Is that what you're calling it now?"
James punched him in the shoulder. "All we did was talk," he protested. "You know, that thing you do with your mouth…" The words were out before he realized how they had sounded, and Sirius started laughing. James groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Am I never going to be able to have an adult conversation with you?"
"Depends," Sirius replied, "on what else you and Evans did with your mouths."
"I hate you, Padfoot," James grumbled.
Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "No, you don't."
James sighed. "Yeah." He glanced over at his best friend. "Do you think I'd be a good Auror?"
"No," Sirius replied immediately. "Far too much paperwork. You'd hate that."
James bit back a laugh. It was nice to know that, even though they had both grown quite a bit since leaving Hogwarts, he and Sirius were still so much in sync. That, at least, had not changed.
"Are you looking for a new career?" Sirius asked, giving James a shrewd look. "I thought you liked Quidditch?"
"I do," James hurried to reply, "I just… I don't know. Maybe it's time for a change."
"Time for a change? Prongs, you've been on the team for less than six months," Sirius argued pointedly. "You can't have gotten bored of it already."
James nodded slowly, then asked, "Before you started at Hogwarts, did you ever think about what you wanted to be when you grew up?"
"A musician, of course," Sirius replied immediately. "Sirius Black, the international singing sensation."
"You can't sing," James protested. Sirius opened his mouth to argue, and James added, "I mean, you really can't sing. You sound like a dying cat whenever you attempt it."
"Oh, shut it," Sirius growled in mock anger, and shoved James off the sofa and onto the floor.
Their third date was to the London Museum of Archeology. Lily dragged James from exhibit to exhibit, excitedly reading all the descriptions and telling him everything she had ever heard about the civilization on display.
The Nott family drafted a viciously anti-werewolf piece of legislation that was almost immediately supported by the Ministry, and James couldn't help but suspect that Mrs. Lestrange had a hand in that.
Their fourth date was to the Museum of Quidditch in London. James dragged Lily from exhibit to exhibit, lecturing her on all the various details of the evolution of the game.
Rodolphus Lestrange was appointed Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and was rumored to be on the fast track to a full Head position, and James knew that Mrs. Lestrange had been involved in that.
Their fifth date was to Alice and Frank's wedding.
"I always thought it was the bride who went batty on the day of her wedding," James called through the closed door to the bathroom. "No one ever told me that the bridesmaids do, too."
"You're not helping, James!" came Lily's muffled reply.
James rolled his eyes and perched on the edge of the sofa in Lily's living room. "How much longer is it going to take you to get ready?"
"It's going to take as long as it takes!" Lily shouted back.
"Well, obviously," James muttered under his breath, quietly enough that Lily couldn't hear him. In a louder tone, he called, "I'm sure you look beautiful."
"I can't get my hair right! It keeps falling out of the stupid bun! Why do I have this much hair? Why does it have to be so uncontrollably wavy?"
"I like your hair," James replied.
"That's not helping, James!"
"Um… alright. I hate your hair?" James offered.
"Potter!"
"Evans, come on!" James groaned. "You're being ridiculous. I am sure you look beautiful. In fact, you will be the most beautiful woman at the wedding."
"I can't be the most beautiful woman!" Lily shot back frantically. "Alice has to be the most beautiful woman. It's her wedding day!"
"Fine, you'll be the second most beautiful…" James replied, feeling ridiculous. He just wasn't good at this sort of thing. All of the girls he had dated in the past had been attractive, and Lily was no exception to that. But while he was used to the absurdity of having to reassure very attractive witches that they looked lovely in whatever they were wearing, he was not used to having to reassure a very attractive witch that she looked the right amount of beautiful, that she did not look more beautiful than someone else.
Particularly when said witch had yet to step out of the bathroom.
He glanced down at the copy of the Daily Prophet he had been reading to pass the time while Lily got ready for the wedding. The front page article was about the resignation of the Head of the Muggle Liason Office, and his replacement by the esteemed Gwaine Greengrass. James knew little about the old Head of the office, and even less about this new one, but he knew enough about the surname Greengrass to be worried.
What would happen to relations between the two communities if the office was run by a man who despised Muggles?
Still, the appointment had caused enough controversy within the Ministry to give James some hope. The pureblood prejudice hadn't seeped into every aspect of the Ministry, and it hadn't won over public opinion yet. It could still be fought. And it could still be beaten.
"This would be a lot easier if I didn't have red hair," Lily called from inside the bathroom. "Why did Alice have to pick peach bridesmaid dresses?"
James looked up from the newspaper. "Is there a right answer to this question?"
He heard Lily's chuckle, and then she answered, "Probably not."
"Peach is still better than pink, right? And better than yellow? Weren't those her two other choices for bridesmaid dresses?"
"Yes, and thank Merlin I managed to convince her not to do either of those. Still, there was that lovely blue one that I wanted, but she didn't like blue and…"
"And I am sure that you look stunning in peach," James interrupted, setting the newspaper aside. "And I have no doubt that your hair is fine, even if it is wavy and won't stay in the bun. You will look beautiful, but not as beautiful as Alice, so for the love of all that is magical, can you please come out of the bathroom?!"
There was a moment of complete silence in response to James' outburst, them the door to the bathroom opened and Lily stepped out hesitantly. "Well… how do I look?"
Several strands of hair had escaped from her up-do and were falling around her face in unruly waves. And the peach color of the dress, while not absolutely hideous, did clash with the red of her hair. But she was smiling tentatively, and her eyes were sparkling with excitement for the upcoming wedding, and James couldn't help but grin.
"You look lovely," he said.
Lily gave him a once-over, eyeing his dark blue dress robes with the gold lion embroidered over his heart. "You look very nice yourself," she said quietly.
"Of course," James replied. "I have to look dashing for the Daily Prophet photographer."
"Wait, what?" Lily demanded. "There is going to be a photographer there?"
"It's a pureblood wedding, Lily," James answered, surprised that she didn't know. "Both families have impressive ancestry, and both families have money. There are always Daily Prophet photographers at those types of weddings. Whether Frank and Alice want them there or not. Didn't you see the article after Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy got married? I think it took up two pages in the Prophet."
Lily wrinkled her nose.
"Don't worry," James said, "you'll look dashing in black and white, too."
"I suppose in a black and white photograph I won't clash so horribly," Lily agreed.
"You don't clash now," James lied as he extended his arm. "Shall we?"
Lily gave him a skeptical look. "I don't look perfect, either."
"No," James agreed, "but with your hair like that, and your smile… you look… you look very much like you."
"Good answer," Lily said with a laugh. She took his hand, and together they turned on the spot and disappeared.