Familial Practices

"Marrying a man is like buying something you've been admiring for a long time in a shop window. You may love it when you get it home, but it doesn't always go with everything in the house."
- Jean Ke

"Where is she? I want to see her. I haven't seen her in ages."

I groaned as my brain dimly registered the nearby voice and shifted in my covers to avoid the sound.

"Mum, really, there's no need."

"Nonsense. Her sister managed to greet me downstairs. What makes Lily any different? Who sleeps till eleven in the morning, honestly! My granddaughter is a complete sloth."

I vaguely heard the sound of a door opening before I felt hands slapping at my face.

"Get up, you," I was ordered.

I groaned as I swatted away anything near my face in self-defense. "Stop," I pleaded grouchily. "Not face. Hit, bad."

"It is time to wake up, young lady."

Groggily, I slowly eased my body into an almost seated position. "Leave me alone," I requested, blocking my face with my arms. "Frinklestarten."

"That's no way to speak to your Grandmum, young lady," an aged voice scolded me. "Why do you let her get away with such sass, April?"

A voice that I recognized to be my mum's sighed. "Lousy parenting," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that, dear," Grandmum spat.

Mum shot me a pleading look of help.

Sitting up in bed, I began to slowly wipe the sleep away from my eyes.

"Finally," Grandmum Rose said as she paced in front of my bed. Her graying hair was dyed a brown color that was a bit darker than had been her original shade. She must have been experimenting at the salon. Her thin lips were covered in a bright pink lipstick that smudged at the side and matched the color of her cheek rouge. She adjusted her large glasses before smoothing the adjoining chain down the front of her blue and green dress. "Lily Marie Evans, get up and kiss me hello."

Dutifully and with a desperate look from my mother, I pushed my covers away and walked over to kiss her soft cheek.

Grandmum Rose tutted at my attire. "What are you wearing?" she demanded. "April, you'd think I found her at some pub, or something."

Hastily, I pulled down the hem of James's shirt as far as it could go. Today, I was wearing the dark Puddlemere shirt he had just bought. "It's just a shirt," I answered quickly.

She narrowed her blue-lined eyes at me. "I've heard you're engaged."

I nodded with a sigh.

"At eighteen."

"You've got me," I replied lazily.

"You should know that an engagement does not mean that suddenly you're allowed to start shagging. You can't mount the boy till the Lord says it's okay."

"Mother!"

I hid my enflamed face. I tried to stutter out a response, but words failed me.

"She should know!" the old woman insisted unabashedly. "Seems propriety might already be too late, though," she added with an eye on my shirt.

"Mother, I assure you that I have complete control over my daughter. Lily's a good girl. She would never do anything reckless. Let's go downstairs. There's tons to disapprove of down there, too."

Mum herded Grandmum Rose to the hallway before she closed the door and turned to face me with a mad look in her eyes. "She's five hours early," Mum proclaimed desperately.

"I noticed," I said dryly as I scooted back onto my bed and pulled my knees onto my chest.

"She's complaining about everything. Everything I do is wrong from the way I empty the dishwasher to the way I raise my children."

I chuckled. "Welcome back to a mother's dissatisfaction, Mum. It never fails."

Mum groaned. "Make it stop," she whined childishly.

I grinned. "Would if I could. Just try to ignore it. She'll be gone in a few days."

Mum sighed. "It wouldn't be so bad if it was just a normal visit, but I've got your sister to worry about and half the guests for the wedding are arriving a day early to mooch off our hospitality. My hair's a mess, I spilled juice on my shirt, and I haven't even had time to change the sheets in the guest room for her."

I frowned. "Where's James going to sleep?"

"Couch," Mum answered. "Or possibly the floor if your cousin Charlie never remembered to get a hotel room."

I smiled at the strain of panic in her voice. "Mum, relax. This stress is going to kill you."

"This is just so like my mother," she spat. "She probably came early just so she could catch us unaware."

"Diabolical," I added lightly.

"Honestly!" Mum agreed as she started pacing across my room. "I hope I never cause my daughters as much grief as she does to me. She leaves my perfect brothers alone, but I always get the brunt of it."

"How awful," I commented as I bit back a laugh.

"Right," she announced as her tone turned more businesslike. "You have to get dressed. We've got dress fittings in an hour. Sleeping until eleven thirty in the morning, really, Lily? This isn't a bed and breakfast. At least make an effort to behave in front of the family today. And make sure you wear something nice, not your usual ragamuffin look. Afterwards we have to go to the church for the rehearsal dinner, and it'll be the first time you meet a lot of Vernon's family. Do me a favor and don't wear any of James's clothing. It really does send the wrong message."

I waited until I heard the sound of her footsteps disappear down the hallway before I started laughing.

After the hysterics passed, I ate a granola bar from the secret stash I had hidden in the bottom drawer of my desk and then traipsed into the bathroom for a shower. Someone had just taken one because the mirror was still steamy. I drew a quick picture of a toothpick in a great, big, poufy dress standing next to a mustached whale wearing a bowtie before I wiped down the mirror and hopped into the shower.

I lathered myself down with soap as I washed away all the germs from the day before. I had a mission. Foggy cartoons aside, I was going to be nicer to my older sister today. What Mum said last night was true. I hadn't really considered Petunia's feelings as I should have done. I had an annoying habit of living entirely in my own personal point of view. I'm sure if the story was told from Tuney's perspective, things would be much different. Perhaps mustaches would be considered fetching.

Petunia was only going to get married once, hopefully at least, and I would try to do my best to not be a pain in the ass about it. I made a mental promise to try to be a good sister for the next 48 hours.

Now all I had to do was keep it.

I used my wand to remove the hair from my body before I walked into the hallway. I saw James coming up the stairs so I hastily tightened my grip on my towel.

"Hello," he greeted me with a tad deeper than normal as his eyes blatantly roamed my body, pausing a bit at the droplets of water on my chest.

"Good morning," I replied back with an amused smile. "Guess what I found out this morning?"

He shrugged.

"You and I are dirty heathens," I replied with a grin.

"Excellent," James said, drawing out the word in an impossibly sultry way.

I rolled my eyes before I opened the door to my bedroom.

"Later?" he asked as I started to close the door.

I stuck my head out the side and winked at him before I slowly finished closing the door, our eyes locked on each other's.

I turned to start getting dressed when I heard a quick rapping of knuckles on the door.

Adjusting my towel, I curiously opened the door.

James grabbed my face in both of his hands as he kissed me fully on the lips.

I struggled to keep my towel up with one hand as my other hand fisted into his dark hair to pull his face closer to mine.

His hands traveled from my face to my sides and clutched at my thin towel.

My wet hair was getting all over the front of his red t-shirt, but he didn't seem to care.

Finally, we both pulled apart to fill our empty lungs.

"Later," James panted breathlessly before striding towards the guest room.

I stared in shock at the deserted corridor before I quickly pulled up my slightly falling towel and closed my door. "Merlin."

I wiggled my way into a knee-length yellow skirt before I put on a white eyelet tank top to go with it. Then, I quickly used my wand to dry my hair and set it into loose curls before I added the usual regiment of black to my eyes. Feeling scandalous, I threw on a bit of shimmer just to get a rise out of old Grandmum Rose. Maybe she'd call me a slag!

With that hopeful thought in mind, I was sliding into a pair of white mules when I heard a sharp tapping on my bedroom window. I looked over to see Calypso hovering outside with a bright turquoise letter tied to her leg.

Hurriedly, I raced over to the window to open it.

Calypso speeded into the room with an acknowledging hoot in my direction. She headed for her bag of owl treats and pecked at the opening of the bag.

Shaking my head, I followed her, grabbed a handful of mice-flavored goodies, and then offered them to her interested beak. She quickly gobbled up the treats before licking all traces of crumbs off the palm of my hand.

I laughed at the tickling sensation. "Can I have my letter now, boo?" I asked her sweetly.

Callie obediently held out her left leg so that I could untie the letter.

"Thanks, Cal," I said before I flipped onto my bed and ripped open the envelope. Two slips of parchment were inside. I pulled out the folded up newspaper clipping first. After smoothing out the wrinkles, I examined the small picture in the upper left hand corner of the group of Puddlemere United players waving enthusiastically at me. My eyes sought out the title.

Puddlemere Ploys and Wigtown Woe

By Hestia Jones

My eyes widened when I saw the name and the small, adjacent headshot of my friend winking at me with a scandalous smile. I let out a girly squeal of glee before eagerly turning my attention back to the article.

I was five when I picked up my first broomstick. I had knicked it from my mum's closet. She was not pleased, especially when I broke my shoulder trying to avoid an imaginary bludger. To this day, I blame the tree. It had looked shifty.

Eight years later, I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts. The team needed a new beater, and I was more than willing to offer my services. Over the years, it's been my privilege to watch a fair few matches, but nothing played at Hogwarts compares to last night's match between Puddlemere United and the Wigtown Wanderers.

Of course, I expected to be entertained at a professional game. Merlin knows that tickets today cost enough to leave the audience stupefied. The game did not disappoint. Despite recent allegations about employee disagreements, the Puddlemere players seemed as focused as Unspeakables (whom I do not recommend trying to chat up).

The game started out predictably enough. Alex Harris of Puddlemere scored the first goal of the night followed quickly by the Wanderers' own Drake Turner. The chasing was truly superb by both teams. Mel Ward played a particularly fine game that would have resulted in loads more scored goals if it hadn't been for the tremendous effort put forth by the Wigtown keeper Zack White.

Yet, it was Frank Marshall who stole the show with his effortless Starfish and Stick that had Puddlemere fans rising out of their seats when he stopped the Wanderers from putting up too many points on the board. On his amazing defense tactic, Marshall said, "I was just lucky that I managed to stop Ward. She has a great arm." I note that Marshall's eyes did look a bit dreamy as he said this. Could it be possible that Marshall will go behind enemy lines to date Miss Melanie? I'd go for it if I was her. I'm sure Marshall has more talents than just a Starfish and Stick.

Yet, I doubt anyone at the match last night can remember a single play except for Sammy Boyd's phenomenal catch to the end the match and secure the victory for Puddlemere. He raced nearly two-hundred meters across the pitch to catch up to Cindy Scott's ample lead. A mean feat within itself, Boyd also managed to stretch the extra meter and a half to get to the crucial neck-and-neck point. The pair raced across the field with symbiotic grace and agility. Just when things seemed all over for Puddlemere, Scott fumbled the snitch. Boyd swooped in and grabbed the tiny ball, leaving the score 260 to 140 in favor of our boys and girls in blue and giving Sammy B. his well-deserved fourteenth catch of the season.

I won't lie. An end of the game like that, I nearly made a few of my fellow spectators deaf from all my screaming. It was a truly remarkable game that will bring Puddlemere, my decided favorites for the Cup, even closer to their goal come August.

Of her team's defeat, Captain Max Guevara said grimly that "they'll just have to keep practicing drills until she can beat her team into submission." She's really quite a cheerful girl.

However, this was not Puddlemere's only recent victory. Just moments after the game, Rob Curto dropped his lawsuit against the team's management that accused the team of sexist allegations. It appears Mr. Curto realized that Puddlemere beater Alicia Barnes was enough of female for any team. I'll be sure to send my regards to Mr. Curto in addition to a "Girls Kick Ass" t-shirt.

So, after quite a night, I must conclude that Quidditch is alive and well within this reporter. I'm just leaving it to the professionals.

Rolling my eyes, I put down the clipping with a chuckle before grabbing a piece of blue parchment from the matching envelope.

Sweeties!

Sirius's sexy bum! (He's replaced Merlin in my mind starting last night. You would have had to have been there.) I'm a published reporter. Did you read it? Was it awesome? I tried to tone down the crazy a bit, I swear. I only wrote that version as a joke, but somehow it got mixed in with my actual version! And then it was PRINTED. I never thought they wanted something so scatterbrained or opinionated. Really, it reads more like comedy than journalism, but they liked it! I'll keep that in mind for my editorial next week about the dangers of Witch Weekly on the female psyche.

Ahh, old Barnabus was quite pleased with it. He said it's refreshing to have such a personal approach to the news and that "my voice is unique in its ambiguity." Unique, my bum. Sales just probably went up because I bought every single copy of the paper I could find. Apparently, I appeal to the female demographic, hence my next assignment. You should have seen the look on Rita Skeeter's face when he said that. Well, I don't know what crawled up her bum. I doubt the average female aspires to be a narcissistic bint. But that's just me.

Ahh, Lily, I don't even have time to be snarky because I'm just so happy! I must have bought like forty copies yesterday. My dad hung up a copy on our refrigerator back home. It's been wonderful.

Still, enough about my startling success as a world-famous Daily Prophet reporter. You, my gorgeous friend, are still on my mind (I know. I told you I'd never forget the little people.) What's going on with you and James? Did one of you spill the beans yet? (Why do they call it spill the beans, anyway? Have you ever seen anyone spill a can of beans before and gone, "Wow. That's spilled." Psh. I doubt it. Maybe, my next piece should be on weird colloquialisms and their failed meanings in the modern world!)

I hope it was you. Or James. Or both of you. Because, honestly, Lils. Secrets suck. And you suck at keeping them. And as a very thriving reporter, it goes against my better judgment to keep this under wraps (again, what's up with that? Do you think it dates back to the ancient Egyptian wizards and their mummification spells?).

But, anyways. I hope you're doing well. I know you're probably crazy busy with the wedding, but I just wanted to make sure you knew all about my newfound fame. Feel free to send me your heartfelt regards. Nothing says "I'm really proud of you" like a plate full of your mum's famous fudge (and I know she'll make it for all of your relatives like when they were there that time I visited in Fourth Year.)

Ahh! I really must go! I'm still on coffee duty (in between my groundbreaking article-writing, of course.) Love you!

Your favorite correspondent,

Hestia, xoxoxo

A smile plastered to my face, I scratched out a hasty reply before I stuck the parchment into an envelope and placed it over by Calypso's cage.

She hooted in worry as she pointedly continued to drink her water.

"Don't, worry, Callie," I placated her. "I still need to get the fudge," I added dryly. "You're good to relax for now."

"LILY!" a voice bellowed from downstairs.

"At least someone is," I muttered sardonically before kissing Calypso's smooth feathers, grabbing my wand, and trotting down the stairs.

"Oh, Lily, there you are," Mum sighed as her shoulders relaxed obviously with relief. "We have to leave. The fittings start soon."

I nodded as I moved to the fridge and grabbed a cup of chocolate pudding out of it. "You made fudge for tonight, right?"

"A bit, but you have to save it for our guests. I don't want you eating it all before they get here."

Peeling off the lid of my pudding, I spotted Petunia enter the room with Grandmum Rose as I selected a spoon from the silverware drawer and jammed a spoonful of pudding into my mouth. Remembering my promise to myself, I smiled at my sister with chocolate-covered teeth. "Morning, Tuney," I said brightly.

She managed a small smile. "Hey, Lily," she greeted back, also displaying an effort to start things fresh today. Mum must have gotten her with the guilt trip, too.

"I'm excited to see your dress," I told her. "Mum said you tried on about ten stores' worth of dresses before you picked it."

Her smile deepened. "Well, you know, I'm picky."

I snorted. "I've heard that before."

Mum beamed at us as she held up her purse in her hands. "Ready to go, girls?" she asked.

We nodded.

"You coming, Mum?" she asked Grandmum Rose.

The old woman scoffed, which turned into a cough, the price a 78-year-old woman paid for being so contemptuous. Sarcasm was best left to the experts.

"Someone needs to clean this house," she wheezed.

I crossed my arms across my chest defensively. I had spent a decent part of my day yesterday cheating my way through cleaning. The audacity!

Mum, too, seemed protective. "I assure you, Mum, that the house is quite clean."

Grandmum Rose nodded as though she was mollifying a small baby as she murmured something under her breath about white gloves. "I'm sure it is," she said softly. "I'll just go over a few things before everyone arrives, and if there's extra time, I'll get started on the cooking."

"Mum, I told you I had everything taken care of. The steak is marinating the in the fridge as we speak. Henry is going to grill that and some chicken, and I've got everything I need for the shrimp alfredo in the refrigerator."

"Just go on," Grandmum Rose said as she tied an apron around her green and blue floral dress. "I'll fix everything before the family gets here."

Mum's fists balled up beside her tan skirt, but Petunia grabbed her arm soothingly.

"Mum," she whispered with an eye on the clock. "There's no time and no point."

Closing her eyes, Mum took a deep breath before nodding. "We'll be home soon, Mum," she said before Petunia dragged her towards the front door.

Mum spent the whole car ride ranting. It was quite humorous, except for the time when she nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. That was less comical and more deathtrifying.

When we arrived at Sydney's Bridal Boutique, Bridget and Cassidy were already there to try on their bridesmaid dresses. I bit back several witticisms as I watched them in their natural environment: a store. It was kind of like watching a lion patrolling for a gazelle, only with more chiffon.

We all murmured quick greetings before a saleswoman in her mid-fifties came out with a stack of receipts.

"Ahh, the Evans girls," she welcomed us through a mouthful of pins in a huskier voice than I would have pictured for someone with a pixie-cut hairdo. "It's great to see you, again."

"Nice to see you too, Ava," my mum reciprocated as she fidgeted with the buttons on her red blouse. "Busy day so far?"

Fiona sighed and removed the pencil from behind her ear, the pins from her mouth, and the measuring tape from around her neck and placed all the items on the reception counter. "Now, we're just trying everything on one last time before you take everything home with you?"

"All except for my other daughter, Lily," Mum answered with a nod.

"Ahh, the Maid of Honor!" Ava announced as she spotted me next to Petunia. "You're here, finally. Let's get you situated first. I'll be back in a jiffy."

Ava made a few notes on the scattered pile of my papers on her messy desk before she skipped away towards the backroom.

I looked around at the few dresses displayed in the large room that held more mirrors than products. "Nice place," I commented lightly.

"I really like the feeling of this place," Petunia told me. "Too many of the places were too snobbish. My money was as good as anyone else's. I don't know why they had to be so rude about it."

I nodded. Even though Petunia had a passion for labels, we were both raised to head straight for the sales rack. Shopping at swanky places daunted me, as well. "I've got a good vibe," I replied.

Before another word could be said, Ava bustled back into the room carrying a large garment bag. "Here it is," she announced. "Had too nearly break my back trying to reach it, but here we are."

She placed the bag into my hands. "Go down the hall and go into the first dressing room on your left."

I nodded before I followed her orders, passing by the light coral walls on my way. I opened the aforementioned door, hung up the garment bag back on the hook in the small room, and then zipped it open.

Curiously, I pulled the dress out. I knew Petunia had chosen dresses for all the bridesmaids while I was at Hogwarts, but I had always conveniently neglected from soliciting information about them. I figured I was best left not knowing so I wouldn't have to dread ruffles and sequins for the rest of term.

However, the dress really wasn't that bad, all things considered. The dress was tea-length, and when I held it up to my body, the full tulle skirt reached my mid-calf. The top had a moderate v-neck shape satin bodice that ended with a side bow at the smallest part of my waist. I actually liked the shape of it. It was something I could see myself wearing. The only problem with it was that it was lavender.

Being a redhead had several disadvantages. I could not get angry without some prat mouthing off about fiery tempers. I had to put on copious amounts of sunscreen before I even thought about going outside during the summer. I had to apply mascara every day to avoid looking like I had fire ants coming out of my eyelids, and I could never find a doll that looked like me when I was little and all the other girls would dress up their little twin dolls in outfits that matched theirs. The worst, however, was that there were only a few colors with which my red hair and green eyes did not clash.

Lucky for me, lavender looked absolutely horrible on me.

Grumbling to myself, I slithered out of my clothes and then slid my dress over my head. It fit over my hips with ease, but as I tried to zip it shut, the bloody dress would not close. I twisted my arms around my back as I contorted my torso into various shapes to slide up the zipper. One particularly advanced move caused me to lose my footing and fall to the floor. I growled as I got back to my feet. Groaning to myself, I tried in vain to suck in a year's worth of pie as I attempted to get the damn zipper to go up one last time.

Frustrated, I stared at myself in the mirror. With red cheeks from all the exerted effort, I looked like a plum that had gone bad. Holding the dress up, I marched back into the main room.

Ava was speaking amiably with Petunia as Mum was having a conversation with Gabby and Jewel, who must have arrived while I was struggling in the dressing room. Mum was the first to notice my arrival.

"Lily?" she asked with concern. "Are you okay? We heard grunting from the dressing room."

I took a deep breath and reminded myself not to be a bitch. "I'm having some trouble with my dress," I announced as calmly and rationally as I could muster.

Ava stood up and walked over to me. "What's the matter, dear?"

I bit back my color complaints with a quick glance at Petunia's anxious blue eyes and turned around to show them. "The sucker won't close."

Ava sighed and tutted her tongue loudly three times. "Well, that is quite a problem. Have you tried sucking in, dear?" Her hands grasped the back of the dress as she tried to force the twenty centimeters of open dress back together.

I hissed in pain as she tried to squash my ribs with her surprisingly robust forearms. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry!" she apologized quickly as she released her grasp. Ava took a step back to admire the gaping hole. "Well, I guess the bust is just too large for the dress."

I smiled, feeling an odd sense of pride.

"Let me check my measurements."

Her earrings dangling as she moved, Ava ambled over to the reception desk as she stuck her nose in her papers. "Ahh, here it is!" she announced. She placed a pair of purple cat eye glasses and put them on. "Here's the problem! You're measurements called for a chest that's only 70 cm wide! Wonder how that would've happened."

I fidgeted where I stood as I tried to cross my arms across my chest before I felt the fabric start to stretch a bit too far. "Great," I mumbled to myself. Someone had mistaken me for a twelve year old boy.

"Must have been my mistake," Petunia said, chuckling slightly to herself, despite her noble attempt at keeping a straight face.

Teasingly, I stuck my tongue out at her.

Ava grabbed her measuring tape and took new bust measurements. "You go get changed, dear, and I'll start sewing alterations just as soon as you get the dress off."

We all sighed with audible relief before I hastened away to go put my normal clothes on. While I was gone, the other bridesmaids had gone to try on their dresses.

I walked around the room and expected the various dresses on display as I waited for my lovely fellow bridesmaids to get changed. One particular dress that was hanging in the window caught my eye. It was enormous. The huge skirt had ridiculously sized ruffles that ran along the whole bottom of the dress. It reminded me of the meringue in lemon-meringue pie. Now, while I normally enjoyed seeing that sight, I would have preferred it on my plate rather than on my body.

Shaking my head, I turned my attention to another dress that was much better, except for the long, beaded sleeves. I would never want to get married with my arms looking so shiny. Still, I liked the way the waist of the dress had a section of criss-crossed fabric that would ensure the wearer an hour-glass figure.

I jumped when Mum, holding a garment bag of her own, came up behind me. "Curious?" she asked.

"Well," I stammered. "I was just kind of bored."

"And so you thought you'd get a head start on your own wedding plans?" Mum asked with a sly grin.

I bit my lip nervously. That thought actually hadn't occurred to me, but it was definitely occurring now. What kind of dress was I going to wear to my wedding?

Mum's grin turned even wider. "I knew it," she congratulated herself. "We've still probably have an hour before Ava's ready for you to try your dress back on. Why don't you go into the room on your right and look at all the dresses?"

I gnawed at my lip harder and gazed at Petunia, sitting contently on a couch with Gabby. "You sure?" I asked.

"Why not? We're here, and it's not like there's anything else to do. Go on," she urged me before she adjusted her garment bag in her hands. "I'm going to go try this on."

I nodded before I slowly walked towards the room she pointed out. For whatever reason, my palms started to feel a little moist. I rubbed them furiously onto my skirt before I entered the room.

The coral walls were almost completely hidden by every shad of white imaginable. There were ivory dresses, cream dresses, off-white dresses, and just plain white ones in every shape imaginable. Some had huge, poufy skirts while others were slinky and demure. Some had plunging necklines, and some were more modest. I saw cap sleeves, long sleeves, and no sleeves. My eyes hurt a bit from the amount of beads dazzling back at me.

A bit overwhelmed, I journeyed through the room, pulling out any dress that caught my eye. I laughed at some of the truly hideous ones with giant ruffles and asymmetrical designs of feathers that French fashion models often wore. Others made me wonder who had the guts to wear such little fabric in front of a priest.

I realized that I had never really given a large amount of thought about what kind of wedding dress I wanted. Did I want strapless or sleeves? What shade of white did I prefer? Did I want lace or satin or taffeta or chiffon? What kind of skirt best suited my figure? Did I want a train, and if so, how long did I want one? Would I trip in a train? Were you supposed to pick the dress up to avoid slipping on the train?

My mind began to hurt with all the annoying questions. Something shiny caught my eye, and I pulled a dress off the rack. It was quite pretty and possibly my favorite of all the dresses I had seen so far. It was strapless and ivory in color with a pleated bodice that lead to a small, silver and diamond jewel that had previously caught my eye. The satin skirt was full and hovered over the ground like it was a fairy's dress. I smiled as I swished it around and heard the sound of the swirling skirt. It was quite lovely.

With a smile, I hung the dress back up. I was almost relieved. As beautiful as the dress was, I recognized that I hadn't really wanted to find a dress for the fake wedding that I was never going to have. I turned around and congratulated myself for quitting while I was ahead. I supposed I really was immune to this whole dress nonsense.

Smehkaleen.

There it was.

It was hanging up about ten meters in front of me. Slowly, I walked towards it as my eyes fell in love.

It was a bright white, but it looked soft, somehow, rather than blinding. It had an A-line skirt that seemed to be made of satin but had an overlying layer of light tulle on top that was adorned with sparkling beads in a small flower design. The skirt cascaded to the floor where it ended with deep, scalloped edges that had even more beading. I noticed a small train that must only continue for about half a meter or so as it flowed out the back.

The bodice was fairly simple. It was covered in the same beads as the skirt; the two pieces flowed into each other without the interruption of a seam. My favorite part, however, was the very top. The slight sweetheart neckline was held up by two lace sleeves about the thickness of two of my fingers that would be just right off of my shoulders if I were to put it on.

I hesitantly reached out to caress the beading with my fingertips. My heart ached inside my chest. It was so peculiar. I was not the type to fawn over clothes or daydream about weddings, but the more I looked at it shimmering before me, the more I wanted this dress.

"Lily?"

I jumped and spun around to see my mum standing a few meters behind me.

"Oh, my," she sighed. "That's lovely."

I stared back at the dress. "It's perfect."

"Are you going to try it on?" she asked.

"What? No!"

Mum frowned in befuddlement at my outburst. "Well, why not? The girls have gone home, and your sister just went to try her dress on, and Ava is still stitching your dress. There's nothing stopping you."

I bit my lip as I released a sigh as I stared back at the dress. As much as I wanted to try on the dress, I knew putting it on would only lead to something awful. If I tried it on, I would never want to take it off. "I don't think so," I said, turning my eyes away.

Mum nudged my shoulder. "C'mon," she urged me. "I want to see. You can do it right here. I won't tell."

"I can't just get all naked in the middle of the store!"

"Well, I would hope that you would keep your knickers on," she sighed with a laugh. "Just slip it on. No one's around."

My resolve had already broken when I had first seen it. After asking Mum to keep look out, I took my clothes off and carefully, as to not harm one stitch, slipped the dress over my head with extreme slowness. Once I got it on, I slid my arms through the lace sleeves. I was right. They landed right on the tops of my shoulders. "Can you?" I asked Mum.

Understanding my meaning, she walked over and buttoned up the row of tiny white pearls in the back. It was a little long, but other than that, it fit as well as I could have hoped. Bugger.

"Oh, Lily," Mum breathed in awe. "It's gorgeous."

"Really?" I asked.

She nodded vehemently. "You have to see." She grabbed my hand and we both entered the main room eagerly.

I gently smoothed out the skirt, which I had to pull up slightly to move, and stepped in front of the mirror to see my reflection.

My breath caught in my throat. I looked pretty.

"We have to get it," Mum announced excitedly. "It's the perfect dress."

I ripped my eyes away from the mirror. "Mum," I argued weakly. "It's the first one I tried on."

She shook her head. "Listen to your mother. I know these things. You need to buy this one."

I sighed. "I don't even know if I'm getting married."

"If?" she asked as she pulled at her blouse.

"I mean," I recovered quickly. "If I'm getting married anytime soon."

"You can always buy it now and just have it until whenever you and James decide to have the ceremony."

I bit my lip as I ran my fingers along the beaded skirt. "I don't think that's the best idea," I said finally with a sigh as I remembered to be practical. "I probably won't need a wedding dress for a long time."

"Your engagement can't possibly take forever, Lily," Mum argued.

I stared at myself in the mirror. The length of the gown made me seem taller, more dignified than usual. I pictured myself floating down the aisle for the first time as I walked towards James. He'd be wearing a dark tux, and he would turn his head at the exactly right time to see me coming towards him...

I set my jaw. Wedding dresses were for girls who were actually getting married. "I'm going to go put my normal clothes on," I lamented with a heavy sigh.

I had made it a few steps when Petunia entered the room, her dress swishing with the dainty steps of her high-heels. She looked stunning.

The dress was a crème color that emphasized the beauty of her golden hair. It was strapless with an empire waist. The very top was a smooth taffeta that ruffled vertically across the bust while a satin ribbon rested just beneath. The mermaid skirt melted against her small hips before flaring out into a full skirt with a decent-sized train that floated on the floor as she moved towards us. The entire skirt was covered in a rich French lace that gave the dress an antique feeling. She looked exquisite.

"Wow," I breathed as I took her in. "You look beautiful."

Petunia smiled as she directed her gaze to me and then frowned. She stopped and stared at me with her long neck tilted to the side. Petunia visibly swallowed and remained silent for a few moments. I could see her face had turned a few shades lighter, and I noticed that she was physically restraining herself from becoming angry and ripping the dress off me shred by shred.

Finally, she croaked out, "So do you."

Suddenly remembering that I was still wearing a wedding dress, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Merlin, I just had the best ruddy timing of anyone trying not to piss off her older sister the day before her wedding. "Oh!" I yelped as I quickly looked at Mum for help. Unfortunately, she was too busy looking all happy. Bloody priceless. "Right. Well, Mum and I were just waiting for you to come out, and we just thought, I mean, there was time. I didn't mean to-"

"I like it," Petunia told me. "It looks good on you."

I smiled. "Thanks," I replied softly before gesturing to her dress. "You look incredible," I complimented.

"I know," she said with a grin as she walked over to inspect herself in the large, three-way mirror I had just been gazing into.

I bit my lip. "Well, I'm just going to go get changed."

I scampered back into the room of dresses before I circumspectly undid each button with a small amount of wiggling and then slid out of the dress and put it back on the hanger. My own clothes back on, I walked back towards the main room. Feeling completely idiotic, I spun around and waved goodbye to the dress, spinning right back around before I turned into even more of an estrogen-filled moron.

We didn't have to wait long for Ava to come back with my dress fixed, as promised, but the wait was still extremely awkward. Petunia was noticeably trying not to take the incident personally, and I was mentally cursing myself for having to put her in such a situation. I failed miserably at being nice to her.

I tried on my lavender bridesmaid dress on, consoling myself that I had not complained about the color, at least. The dress zippered, so after we said our goodbyes to Ava and Mum agonizingly signed a rather hefty check, we left and went back home without another word about the dress, for Petunia's benefit.

Mum assigned me dress duty as we pulled up into the driveway so that she could perform damage control on Grandmum Rose.

Petunia, who was either feeling helpful or didn't want me blemishing her dress, helped me carry the garment bags up into Mum's bedroom and used her superior height to hang them up.

"Ready for rehearsal?" I asked her as we walked back through the upstairs hallway and continued towards the kitchen.

"It'll be nice when this whole thing is over, and Vernon and I can just relax."

I nodded. "Cause being married's the funnest," I said dryly after Petunia had turned into the living room.

I spotted James sitting at the kitchen table, and so I walked over and sat down at a wooden chair adjacent to his. "Hey," I greeted him.

"Hi," he replied as he quickly swooped down to kiss my cheek. "How'd the fitting go?"

I sighed. "All right, except for the fact that I look like a Picasso painting in my dress."

"I have no idea what that means."

"You will tomorrow," I told him.

"So, nothing exciting happened?"

Biting my lip, I looked at his interested hazel eyes before quickly diverting my gaze. "Very dull," I lied. "History of Magic dull."

He stared at me for a few seconds, but I was saved from answering any more questions by the arrival of Grandmum Rose.

"Get up, Lily Marie, and help me with this blasted stove. I can't read the temperature on this newfangled device."

Sighing, I got up and walked over to join her by the stove. "Well, Grandmum, that's because the stove isn't turned on. You've got to hit preheat before you choose the temperature."

"What?" she asked as she started fiddling with the various knobs and buttons.

I tried to restrict her arms as I motioned for James's attention. "Get Mum," I mouthed to him emphatically.

He nodded and then swiftly left the kitchen in search of reinforcements.

Nearly a minute later, Mum urgently scampered into the kitchen and began undoing everything Grandmum had done to the stove without ever letting Grandmum know that she wasn't helping. I watched her patiently correct the mistakes and sabotage Grandmum's attempts to help in awe. My mum was kind of awesome sometimes.

About an hour later, we were all prepping to go to the church. "Now, everything's ready for dinner, all we need to do is reheat the food once we get back," Mum announced as she finished drying off her hands. "The rehearsal's supposed to end at six, and the whole family should be here about a half hour after that."

"Now," I asked for clarification. "When you say the whole family, what do you mean?"

"Even Cousin Joe."

I grimaced. "Not Cousin Joe," I pleaded. "Why aren't they just coming tomorrow for the wedding?"

"Because they want to torture my poor nerves," Mum answered. "And the wedding starts too early for them to drive in tomorrow so they're taking advantage of us tonight by being as bothersome as possible."

I snorted.

Mum exhaled deeply before plastering a determined smile to her face that didn't quite reach her brown eyes. She fidgeted with the hem of her top. "It's going to be fine," she assured me. "It's just family. No reason to get excited. Everything's going to be fine, just as long as my mother comes nowhere near the kitchen between now and then."

I nodded as I handed her her purse on our way out the front door. "I've got James running interference. He's very good at distracting females."

"Thank God for that," Mum said with a heavenward look. "As long as the female is elderly and not my teenage daughter."

"Course," I replied with a scoff.

Mum laughed as we piled into the backseat of Dad's car next to James. "Where's Tuney?" she asked, looking around and unnecessarily setting her hand on James's knee.

"Went with the groom," Grandmum Rose yelped from the front seat. "Maybe they're eloping."

"God, I hope not," Dad said as he turned the keys into the ignition. "Not after all the money this blasted thing is costing."

"Henry!"

"April, you really should have worn a different top. That one you're wearing makes you look pudgy."

"Thanks, Mother."

I grabbed Mum's hand reassuringly, and she dug her nails into my palm every time Grandmum Rose opened her mouth. When we finally arrived at the church, I had to inspect my hand for little half-moon shaped wounds.

We met Father Cletus inside the chapel to review the procedure of what was going to be happening tomorrow. He was wearing all black with one of those white collars at the throat to signify God, or celibacy, or whatever. Father Cletus was originally from Nigeria and had moved to England only about four years ago. I found his accent to be quite interesting to listen to and immediately grew a liking to him when he firmly shook James's hand and welcomed him to the parish.

As James and I slid into a pew, I was surprised by the amount of family members that had come to the rehearsal from both families. With a groan, I realized that all of them and more would be joining us at home afterwards.

"Ready, Petunia, Vernon?" Father Cletus asked once everyone had settled into their seats.

They nodded affirmatively, and he cleared his throat to address us.

I tuned out the explanation of the processional the best I could as I mostly just amused myself by watching my fellow bridesmaids check out their corresponding groomsman. If I was the type to make scrapbooks, this would have been the picture captioned, "Before the drunken shagfests that resulted in Baby Larry."

I turned my focus back to Father Cletus as he was explaining the procedure that Vernon's sister Marge would need to perform so that she could proceed down the aisle with her dog.

Yes.

I watched as Petunia's beady eyes narrowed into slits as she slid her arm up her newly waxed arm. Somehow, Vernon had convinced her into letting his sister Marge's dog carry the rings down the aisle since neither of our families had a boy young enough to do so. Not even all the horrendous things Petunia had done to me in the past warranted such a punishment. Poor Tuney.

"Just got baby Ripper cleaned for this too," Vernon's vile sister announced vainly as she stroked the slobbering pup in her lap.

"No wonder she's a relation," James whispered into my ear, sounding revolted. "She's got a mustache, as well."

I had to stiff my fist into my mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

"Next, we will have Abigail," Father Cletus said, gesturing to Vernon's cousin who was going to be the flower girl. "Make sure you walk slowly, okay, sweetie? And try not to drop the petals too soon before you get to the end of the aisle."

Abigail nodded, her brown pigtails swinging as she did so.

"Excellent," Father Cletus said with a grin. "And finally, Petunia and Mr. Evans will come down the aisle, and we'll begin with the scripture. Any questions?"

When no one spoke, Father Cletus ushered us into the back hallway as we prepared to begin the rehearsal. A minute or so later, music started playing and the Dursleys, a snobby looking pair who were desperately in need of a Stairmaster, entered the chapel.

"So, you're Petunia's sister?" the Best Man asked me as he draped his arm over my shoulder.

I grimaced as I slipped out of his grasp. "Yes," I answered him curtly.

"I'm Brad," he said back.

"That's great," I told him. "Congratulations on that."

I tuned him out as he started talking about his work at Grunnings and started listening to sweet little Abigail talking to Marge.

"I mean, it's just totally not fair," the girl insisted. "Why does everyone talk to me like I'm a baby. I'm nine years old. I don't need some priest to pat me on the head and call me a good girl. God, why doesn't he get a job where they don't molest kids?"

I frowned. Merlin, little kids were more evil than I remembered.

"So, what's your opinion on taxidermy?" Brad asked me as Bridget and the bloke in front of us entered the chapel.

"Oh look, we're up. Smile, dear," I said as I pushed him a bit too hard through the door and into the aisle.

I took small steps to the beat of the music with a large grin on my face.

Family members stared at us as we walked down the aisle, especially with all the hissing and grunting noises that Brad was making as he nursed his shoulder.

I caught James's eye as I turned around at the front of the aisle, and he just shook his head at me with a smirk playing at his lips before he turned back to nod at whatever my mum was saying.

Marge entered with her heinous dog sniffing its way down the aisle. She looked perfectly agreeable to the whole situation as I wrinkled my nose and listened to the sound of my father sneezing from all the way in the back room.

Next, Abigail, the vapid little nymph, pranced down the aisle as she pretended to drop flower petals from her empty wicker basket.

The music changed, and I directed my attention to the back of the room where I saw Petunia and Dad emerge. He was whispering something into her ear, and Petunia was laughing softly with an effulgent grin gracing her features. Once they reached the altar, Dad kissed her on the cheek before joining Mum in the front row.

"At this point, I'll begin my sermon," explained Father Cletus. "But we'll save that for tomorrow and do the vows for now. Don't want to bore you twice," he joked with a chortle, his Bible grasped firmly in his hands.

I listened vaguely as Petunia and Vernon recited their vows. It was amazing how awkward they made love sound. Listening to them was like listening to high-pitched opera music. In essence it was correct, but it wasn't exactly something you wanted blasted into your ear.

Not a moment too soon, Petunia and Vernon proceeded back down the aisle together as Brad and I followed them as the processional music played.

"Wasn't that romantic?" Brad asked me as he placed his hand on the small of my back.

I shrugged. "As long as you keep your distance," I warned him.

"And why would I do that?"

"Well, I was under the assumption that you wouldn't want your penis hacked off with a blunt ax," I replied with a smile.

The color drained from dear Bradley's face, and I smirked as we continued our leisurely jaunt down the aisle.

We practiced the processional one more time before thanking Father Cletus for his time and heading back into the car.

As soon as we were seated in the backseat, Mum began to stress out. "Can't you drive any faster, Henry?" she begged frantically. "I've got about thirty people flocking to our house, and there's no warm food to feed them with yet."

"I'm driving as fast as I can, April," my dad answered her patiently.

Mum gnashed her teeth together as Dad stopped at a yellow light. "Seriously, Henry?" she asked, perturbed.

"What do you want me to do, run a red light?"

"If it'll get us home faster," Mum replied.

"In body bags," Dad countered.

"This is no time for humor, Henry."

"Just take a deep breath, dear," Dad advised.

"Don't tell me to breathe," Mum snapped at him. "I've got future in-laws to feed. I'm tense, and I intend to stay that way."

"Always such an irritating child," Grandmum Rose commented from the front seat. "You were the same way when you were four, April."

"Not now, Mother!" Mum screeched.

I snorted and was promptly whacked in the back of the head. "Not you, either."

Before Dad even had time to put the car in park, Mum was racing towards the house, mumbling to herself about oven mitts.

"I think we've lost her," I told Dad gravely as we exited the car.

He took his glasses off to shine them on his shirt before placing them back on his face. "She was gone long before this," he concluded sadly before guiding me towards the house. "Let's go aid the madness."

With James on Grandmum patrol, Dad and I were able to get plates and silverware out as Mum dashed around the kitchen with various cooking utensils.

Once people started arriving and all the food was heating in the oven, Mum calmed down and started greeting our guests with her very best impression of a sane woman.

Dad's sister, Aunt Charlotte found me and gave me a large hug. "Oh, Lily," she cooed. "It's so great to see you."

"You too," I replied.

"Your mother told me all about the engagement on the phone the other day. I'm so happy for you!"

"Oh, thanks," I said as my face started to heat up a bit.

She handed me a crisp vanilla envelope. "For you," she said.

I took the card timorously. "Thank you," I mumbled in a dazed voice.

"So tell me, what does James do?"

"Oh, he's an Au-accountant," I covered quickly. "He's an accountant."

As I made the rounds through the hordes of relatives, I accumulated about eight more cards. I found Mum in the kitchen and cornered her by the stove. "What's this all about?" I asked her, as I shook the envelopes in her face.

She shrugged. "Congratulations on your engagement."

I groaned. "Mum, you weren't supposed to tell the whole family."

"Well, why not?" she asked. "It's big news."

I bit my lip as I squashed down the truth. "But now you've got all our relatives giving me checks."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she replied as she opened the stove to check the chicken.

"Well, it is!"

"Why?"

"Because I can't take their money."

"Believe me, with as much money as weddings cost, you can."

I whimpered pathetically. "Mum, this is not good at all."

She closed the oven door with a bang. "Just take the envelope and say 'thank you,' Lily," she advised. "Getting money should not be something to moan and groan about."

"But," I protested.

"Shush," she told me. "How much did you get?"

"I'm not going to tell you!"

"Why? It's not like they're going to take it back. What did your cousin Janine give you? It better have been at least fifty pounds because-"

"Mum!"

After I refused point blankly to give any details about how much money I had received, I was banished from the kitchen. Happy to oblige, I zigzagged my way through the downstairs to find James, who I eventually spotted talking to my Uncle Charlie.

"So what kind of business are you in, son?"

"He's an accountant," I answered for James. "Right?"

James blinked at me. "Sure," he replied. "That's me. Got to account those, er, yeah."

"So you're good with calculus then, James?" Uncle Charlie asked.

"What's that?" James asked. "Cactuses?"

When Uncle Charlie stared at James strangely, I started laughing loudly. "Wow, James, you're so funny."

Uncle Charlie chuckled weakly before turning his brown eyes to me. "So, Lily, you're finished with school now?"

"Yep."

"Any thoughts on a career?"

"Still looking," I answered.

"Well, you'll want to get going then, if you've got your own wedding to plan."

I groaned. "Did Mum tell everyone?" I mumbled to myself.

"Lily?"

I smiled at my uncle before James and I excused ourselves and we fled to my room. I locked the door behind me and then flopped onto my bed. "Merlin," I sighed into my pillow.

"What's an accountant?" James asked me.

"Not an Auror," I told him. "Sorry, I had to come up with something to say to the extended family. It's the whole Statute of Secrecy law. My immediate family knows about magic and such, but it's not exactly general knowledge for the Grandmum Roses of the world."

James grinned as he plopped himself down onto my quilt and turned on his side to face me. "I can imagine why that might cause a potential dilemma."

"Speaking of dilemmas," I said with a sigh. "I just got a bunch of checks to congratulate me on my engagement."

"Oh, Merlin."

"Yeah," I agreed without attempting to hide my misery. "I'm awful at small talk, especially when it involves accepting money."

James laughed. "I thought you were upset about the fact that we're not really engaged."

"Well, I am," I answered sheepishly. "But the whole money business stresses me out. I hate receiving things that I can't reciprocate. It makes me feel so guilty."

"Sometimes a gift is just a gift, Lily," James pointed out as he ran his fingers through my hair. "People give money because they have enough to part with it. I'm giving Petunia and Vernon some pounds as their wedding present."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How much is 'some pounds'?"

"A thousand," he mumbled quietly.

I shrieked as I sat up. "What?"

James sat up, as well. "It's like I said. It's not like I don't have the money to spare. Besides, they could really use it."

"But," I stammered. "Petunia's always been so awful to you, and it's Vernon."

James shrugged. "Yeah, but she's your sister, and I know that she's important to you."

Touched, I leaned over to kiss him. "I wish Petunia was marrying you," I admitted against his lips.

James pulled back with a baffled look on his face. "Well," he quipped. "I guess there's still time. Do you think she'll have me?"

I hit his chest playfully with the back of my hand. "You know that's not what I mean," I corrected him. I stood up as I walked over to my desk and tried to sort out my thoughts into proper words

"Kind of lost here, love," he replied with a helplessly confused smile. James stood up and followed me over to my chair.

I fiddled with my hands as I paced back and forth. "I just wish she was marrying someone who made her feel the way I do when I'm with you."

James grinned as he ran his hand over my neck. "And how's that?" he hummed against my ear.

"A little nauseous," I answered with a grin. "Bloated."

"Bloated?"

"With love," I added with a taunting smile.

"How, heartwarming," he teased.

I don't know who started it, but suddenly, we were kissing. One second we were just staring at each other, and the next our lips were on each other's like fire consuming everything around it. We were not very subtle about our meaning. It had been far too long for both of us.

His back was bent as he leaned over to reach me, and I stood on my tiptoes as I reached up to settle the height difference. My fingers clutched at his shirt, and I wrestled with the collar of his t-shirt, stretching it out with every clinch of my fingertips as James's hands gripped my waist tighter. I gasped and kissed him harder.

We stumbled against each other, breaking our kiss as we both struggled to find air. I opened my lidded eyes to see James grinning longingly at my lips. Smirking, I pressed my hands against his chest and forced him back onto my desk chair.

I sauntered over to him slowly as he said my name testily. I wrapped my hands around his neck as I settled my legs over his hips so that I was straddling him into the chair. "No place to go," I whispered to him as I ran my fingers along his cheek bones.

"My favorite sort of trapped," replied James staring at me hungrily, his Adam's apple visibly throbbing in his throat. He gripped my hips firmly in his hands and ground me harder into his. Our mouths collided once more.

I tangled my fingers into his hair as his hands crept up and down my legs, occasionally dipping underneath my skirt. I wiggled into him, and he groaned loudly, removing his lips from mine to kiss my bare collar bone.

His hot mouth caressed my neck all the way down to my shoulder as he pushed my tank top out of the way to get better access.

I tilted my head to the left as I tried to control the sound of my obvious panting. I was hot everywhere, and I could feel my body just brewing with electricity as every nip, lick, and breath toyed with my delicate control. My trembling hands gripped the hem of his shirt as I struggled to stay grounded.

"You're torturing me," I protested as his hips bucked against mine.

"Can't help it," he replied huskily.

I could feel his breathing coming out shallow as his chest heaved against mine. "You could try to be a bit kinder."

"What would be the fun in that?"

Our lips met again, and we found more productive ways to use our tongues. I drew his tongue into my mouth as he started sucking on my bottom lip. A shiver went down my spine, and we moved our heads to make the kiss even deeper.

I placed my hands against his thighs as I tried to gather the proper support to remove his shirt. James tightened his grasp on my hips before he realized what I wanted when I ran my fingers up his chest.

He hissed against my lips, and I took the opportunity to raise the hem of his shirt up a bit. James leaned away from me and pulled the rest off.

Excited by the exposed flesh, I eagerly skimmed my fingertips down the line leading from the center of his pecs all the way down to the belt of his trousers.

James groaned and then pulled me off his lap and placed me on top of my desk. My legs wrapped around his bare torso as he leaned over me, pinning me down with his arms. I leaned back as his mouth ravished mine with kisses.

My knees began to give out, and I was grateful that I was sitting down.

James got to work pulling my tank top up and over my head, and it soon joined his shirt on the floor.

Shivering from the sudden cold, I stood up and pressed my nearly bare chest against his as we continued to kiss. "Bed," I whispered against his lips.

"Lily," he warned.

"For horizontal purposes only," I pleaded.

I backed him up against the mattress until I leaned over him and he feel backwards with a crash. Smirking, I hovered over his body and quickly found his tongue again.

I moaned as his hands started traveling farther upwards and felt my eyelids flutter close. I moved my lips to his neck and started nipping the sensitive skin right below his ear.

James groaned underneath me before he tightened his grip on my torso, sending shivers across my flushed skin, and spun us around so that I was lying beneath him.

"Touché," I complimented him as my back arched against my quilt to reach him.

James grinned as he slowly and tenderly removed my curly hair away from my face and let it fan out across the bed. "You know, I work out."

I watched his deep concentration with curiosity as he bent his head down to place feather-light kisses along my face.

I sighed with contentment as his lips found mine again in a kiss that started out slowly but then ignited when I started tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

I let my hands grip his hands started running up my thighs once more.

My eyes clamped shut as I bit my lip. "James," I hissed.

He didn't answer as he continued to place kisses along my stomach.

Merlin, I had missed this. We hadn't snogged properly since we left school. I opened my eyes and focused on the walls of my room as I tried to regain control of myself. My eyes settled on the sight of my unicorn collection, particularly on Mr. Snuggles. As James continued to kiss my neck, my eyes focused on the sight of all their little blue eyes staring at me. I felt like such a slag. Merlin, my father was downstairs!

Trying to sit up, I reluctantly started to wriggle out of James's grasp.

He protested and held onto my hips with vigor, but I calmed him down with a chaste kiss on the lips.

James groaned against me, and I released his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip before I fully disentangled myself from him.

"We have to stop," I told him firmly.

"No, we don't."

I sighed as I pushed his stubborn lips away. "Yes, we do," I insisted as I propped myself up into a sitting position.

"But I don't want to," he concluded as he sat up, also.

"We can't keep going because we'll never stop," I told him.

"We can restrain ourselves," James insisted, sounding thoroughly like a liar.

"Just you," I accused wryly.

"Well," he said, stretching out the syllable to make it sound much longer than it had any right to sound.

"We cannot have sex in my bedroom, James. The unicorns are watching us."

He laughed and played with my hair. "You are ridiculous."

"Look at their tiny blue eyes!" I persisted. "They would be scarred for life."

James sighed and ruffled his hair. "And I guess the fact that your entire family is currently down stairs is not helping matters."

I sighed and got off the bed as I scanned the floor for my shirt.. "Not exactly," I agreed before putting it back on. I picked up his red t-shirt and threw it at his face. "Put that on," I ordered.

I watched as the sight of his bare chest disappeared and was replaced by stupid cotton.

"We better get downstairs," I stated with a sigh as I inspected my messy hair and swollen lips in the mirror. "People are probably wondering where we are."

James placed a gentle kiss on my lips before grabbing my hand. "One of these days," he promised. "When there's no weddings and family and plush unicorns."

"Patience is a virtue," I reminded him.

"I'm a sinful man," he told me with a smirk.

I shook my head at him. "No, you're not," I accused as we left my bedroom.

He scoffed.

"Now, Benjy Fenwick, on the other hand," I teased lightly.

James pouted the rest of the way down the stairs.

As soon as I had removed my foot from the last stair, Mum ambushed me. "Lily!" she shrieked. "Where did you go? I need your help serving the food. James, you left Grandmum Rose unattended, and she's telling everyone the story about the Franciscan."

I groaned. "Not that one," I pleaded.

She sighed. "I'm afraid so," she replied. "Battle stations, people," she urged us.

Mum grabbed my arm and dragged me into the kitchen. I frantically stirred pots, tasted sauces, and checked timers. Merlin, family gatherings were a lot of work.

However, after about ten heated minutes of shouted orders and bickering, Mum had all the food prepared and set out for people to start eating.

I ended up sitting on a folding chair between James and Vernon's sister Marge. As it turned out, she was even more delightful than I had imagined her. Yay for me.

I picked dumbly at my chicken as she rambled on about her various canines. I wanted to ask her at what point she was going to come out of the kennel and declare her creepy dog obsession, but I refrained.

Not too long after we sat down to eat, people started standing up and giving speeches. I half-listened to the ramblings about love and all that romantic tosh and only politely chuckled at some not-so-amusing anecdotes. After my third glass of water, I was considering running upstairs to go to the bathroom when someone started shouting my name.

I turned my head to see Grandmum Rose waving her hands frantically in my direction. "Speech!" she insisted as she held up her empty glass of wine.

Biting my lip, I shook my head and graciously declined when more people started urging me to speak. Frantic, I grabbed James's forearm. "What am I supposed to do?" I hissed at him fretfully.

He shrugged. "Give a speech," he offered lamely.

I pinched him.

"Ow!"

"I have nothing planned to say," I spat back angrily.

"Well, didn't you realize that you'd have to give a toast eventually? You are the Maid of Honor."

Curse his logic! He would remember something that I would so foolishly forget about. Damn him.

I bit my lip and whimpered as I looked out at all the expectant faces staring at me.

James nudged me in the shoulder, and I feebly rose to my feet.

I raised my champagne glass in the air, fiddling with the stem of it. "Hi," I said finally before I cleared my throat. "I'm Lily."

My cheeks began to flame as I became hyperaware of every set of eyes in the room.

"Obviously," I muttered under my breath. "Merlin, I have to pee," I grumbled to myself.

I slapped a smile onto my face and turned to face Petunia and Vernon. "Um," I began, unsure of what to say. I quickly glanced at James's reassuring smile before turning back to the couple. "Petunia Evans is my older sister," I announced finally. "Of course, you probably don't need me to tell you that. If you're not blood-related, I'm sure you've noticed more than one embarrassing photo of a redhead hanging up in here."

A few people chuckled, and I tightened my grip on my drink.

"Petunia's not easy to live with," I said as I glanced at my parents, who were sitting on the love seat in the living room. Dad's mouth was wide open as he watched me with blank wonder, and Mum was furiously playing with the buttons on her blouse. "She's got quite a few quirks. She runs weird hours, you see, and she steals stuff from your room all the time without asking."

I paused as everything was silent except for the sound of Petunia trying to swallow her tongue. I ignored the perplexed expressions of the guests and decided just to keep talking. "But she's a good sister," I said. "She's a good person. If she borrows your book, she'll give it back to you with a new bookmark already inside or leave a little note about what her favorite part was. She likes to keep things neat and orderly. Petunia's always tries to fix things and make them better."

I looked out at the beautiful face of my older sister. Her blonde hair was halfway tied back and fell in perfectly combed waves over her shoulders. Her blue eyes, lined with makeup put on with precision and care, gazed into my green ones.

"But love is unfixable. It's a disease. It gets all inside you and doesn't let go. You can't stop loving Tuney just because she makes you crazy."

I bit my lip as I looked down at my freshly pedicured feet. "So, my advice to Vernon," I continued as I shifted my stare, "is to give her a few things to obsess over. Leave your socks on the carpet so that she can nag at you to pick them up. Chew your breakfast cereal just a tad too loud, especially on Monday mornings. And do all the other things that will drive her just a little bit nuts to keep her sanity in check because once Tuney leaves this house, I won't be there to annoy her anymore with every little thing I do."

A few more people laughed, and I chuckled lightly as I lifted my glass into the air. "So to Vernon," I toasted, "for being the new source of agitation in my sister's life. And to Petunia, for finding someone she deemed worthy enough to take on the challenge. I hope he's up to it, and I hope that he'll be able to give you everything you've always wanted. Cheers."

I tipped my glass in their direction before knocking back a bit of champagne. Merlin, how I wished it was firewhiskey.

A few people clapped as calls for the next speech began, and I happily sank back down into my chair.

"Ugh," I moaned.

"You know, that really wasn't too awful," James assured me.

"Blerg," I groaned.

"Public speaking does not love the Lily," he commented.

"Why do you think I let you lead all the Head meetings?"

"Because I'm manly and authoritative," James replied back hopefully.

I scoffed. "Okay."

I got up to help clear dishes when the toasts started to dwindle down to the end, and, with a bunch of plates in hand, I walked into the kitchen and bumped into a solid figure.

"Oof."

"Sorry," I apologized quickly as I looked at the object of my bumpificiation. I knew that smirk. "Sirius? What the hell are you doing here?"

His face broke out into a smile that quickly morphed into a grimace. "Sodding hell, Evans, you sure know where to hit a bloke."

I quickly put down the dishes down onto the counter and gave Sirius a quick hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Invited," he answered.

"By whom?"

"Your father," Sirius answered as he shoved his hands the pockets of his black jeans. "He told me I could stop by at the Quidditch Match."

I frowned. His nonchalance was unsettling. It seemed more faked than usual. "So you suddenly had the huge urge to stop in to celebrate my sister's wedding?"

He shrugged artfully, rolling up the sleeves of his gray shirt. "I love a family gathering." He smiled at me as he picked up my previously discarded stack of dishes and put them into the sink. "Brings back fond memories," he added.

"Sirius," I pressed.

"Shame I missed the food, though."

"Lily! Lily, where did you take those plates? Oi, who are you?" Grandmum Rose asked as she barged into the kitchen and pointed up at Sirius.

"Sirius Black, mum," he introduced himself politely with a grin.

"She's already got a fiancé," Grandmum Rose warned testily. "Doesn't need another good-looking bloke sniffing around."

I saw Sirius bite back a laugh, and I quickly grabbed her soft hand. "Grandmum, Sirius is my friend from school. I met him, er, studying abroad."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Is that true, boy?"

"Oh, yes," Sirius assured her, delight forming in his eyes. "I've been known to study many a broad. Dozens, really."

Growling, I grabbed Sirius by the arm and forced him out of the kitchen. "We must be going," I told Grandmum as I dragged him out of the room. "Sirius," I said sharply when we were out of her earshot.

"James," he commanded, all traces of amusement gone from his eyes.

Curious, I brought him to James, who was talking to someone who looked disapprovingly like a Dursley.

Sirius tapped him on the back, and James turned around and smiled as soon as he saw his friend. His features darkened, however, when Sirius stared back at him gravely.

"Sirius?" he asked. "What is it?"

"We need to talk, mate."

"I just don't understand. How could they get past all those Ministry defenses?" James asked as he paced across my bedroom floor, grabbing his hair in frustration.

"I don't know, but they did," Sirius answered. "These are bad people, James. They were smart, and they were cruel. I heard accounts of the attack. It wasn't pretty. There was about five or six of them. They people they killed were barely our age, James. Two girls and a boy."

"My parents?" James asked.

"They're fine," Sirius answered, and James visibly relaxed. "They were off-duty. I reckon that they're probably checking out the damage now, though. Old Dung Fletcher told me that Moody's gathered up the entire arsenal to try to sort this mess out."

"Why would they want to kill muggles?" I asked as I squeezed Mr. Snuggles into my chest. "What's there to gain by murdering defenseless victims?"

"I don't know," Sirius said. "Probably one of my dear relatives looking for a good time," he added bitterly.

"Sirius," James said.

"Oh, you know it was probably Bellatrix in one of those masks, James. You've been reading the papers. You know the accounts. You know what's coming. They're going after anyone they deem unworthy, and they're taking out Aurors along the way."

I shivered at the thought.

"My dear brother is probably right along with them," Sirius muttered darkly. "Always wanted to make Mum proud." His wheezing laughter echoed throughout my dark room.

"But the Ministry must know how to put a stop to this," James insisted. "That's why we have Aurors."

"James, Fibbons and Gray are dead. Mclauchlin's in St. Mungo's. This isn't some school prank that they're pulling. It's dark magic."

James groaned as he pulled at his hair. "Let's go. I need to go check on my parents and make sure they're okay."

Sirius nodded. "Agreed. I'm sure they could use a few extra hands."

"I'm coming, too," I announced as I got off my bed.

"Lily, you have to stay here," James told me.

I crossed my arms across my chest defiantly. "James, you don't need to protect me."

"I'm not," he answered.

I scoffed, mumbling about chauvinistic crap.

"Listen, Lily, the attack took place just a few miles from here. Some of these bastards might still be around. You're house is filled with muggles tonight. It's an obvious target. You need to stay here and protect them. If we all leave, there won't be anyone here to take care of your family."

I bit my lip as I absorbed the information. "Fine," I spat. "But I don't like it."

James quickly kissed the top of my head. "Neither do I."

Sirius grinned at me, and then he and James turned and disappeared from view.

I took a deep breath and then opened my door to go back to the party. I heard someone let out a muffled gasp, and I looked up to see Petunia staring at me with wide eyes. "How much did you hear?" I asked.

"I just came up to brush my teeth," she answered, her voice sounding far away.

I nodded and then started walking towards the stairs.

"Lily?" she called.

I stopped immediately.

"Did all those people really die?"

I sighed. "Yes," I admitted quietly.

"And the others, the people like you, wizards," she choked out. "They're dying too?"

"Yes."

"But," she said, as she slid her hand up her arm. "I thought you were supposed to be able to stop anything with magic. You're supposed to be an Auror, right?"

"That's the thing. The other side can do magic, too. Aurors aren't invincible."

"So you're in danger."

I sighed. "Don't worry about it, Tuney. Just go on downstairs and stop Mum from repeating all those embarrassing stories she loves. You've got more important things to think about today."

I stayed away from the party as much as I could for the next few hours. My eyes strayed to the clock, and every minute that ticked by caused me more anxiety. Once everyone went to bed in preparation for tomorrow, I sat up in my room and waited for James to get home. Callie was gone, as I had sent her off with fudge to Hestia's, so I was all alone in my vigilance.

Even as the hours slipped by, I stayed perfectly aware inside my dark room with my wand held firmly in my grasp. A noise sounded, and I turned to see a dark figure appear by my desk. I grasped my wand tighter in my hand.

"Hey," James called out quietly. "It's me."

"Favorite jam?" I asked.

He sighed. "Anything that's not overprotective-girlfriend flavored."

I sat up in my bed. "How'd it go?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied with a sigh. "Sirius and I helped obliviate a bunch of memories."

"And your parents?"

"They were okay. I just worry about them, you know."

He slumped towards me and sat down on the mattress, his head drooping towards his lap. "I mean," he continued. "They're getting old, and sometimes, I just think-"

I cut him off by wrapping my arms around his neck. "Don't worry about it," I said. "Everything's going to be fine."

He sighed against me as I held him in my arms. Finally, he broke away. "It's late," he said. "I should let you get to bed. Big day tomorrow."

I laughed humorlessly. "Don't I know it."

"I'll just go downstairs."

"So you can go sleep on a lumpy couch in this state?" I asked, unconvinced. "I don't think so. Stay."

"With you?" he asked.

I pulled the sheets over my bed and then guided him into the covers. "I don't mind."

"I don't know."

"Shh," I replied. "Just lay down."

He took off his shoes and his shirt before complying with my wishes. I snuggled into his arm before pulling the covers over him and removing his glasses and placing them on my nightstand.

"It's so strange," he said.

"What's strange?"

"Death," he replied. "One second, you're right there, and the next, you're gone. Those kids had everything in front of them, and now they don't even exist. They're just gone. How, I mean..." he said as he trailed off.

"I don't know," I answered.

"How do you deal with that?"

"You try to make like worth something while you still have it," I said. "Every single second of every single day."

"With someone you love," he mumbled sleepily.

I sighed into his chest. "Exactly," I said as I thought of my sister and her creamy lace dress. She was getting married tomorrow, and things would never ever be the same between us. Marriage changed everything. Petunia wouldn't be my big sister across the hall anymore. She was getting married, and marriage was scary and new and different.

And it was happening tomorrow.

"Everything's going to be okay," I repeated soothingly.

He hummed against my shoulder.

"Just as long as you're out of here before Grandmum Rose wakes up tomorrow," I amended softly before we both fell asleep.

Story credits to Molly Raesly