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Bree + hitting men: the saga

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hestia.

Sometimes it felt like people who offered their compassion and sympathy were doing so for their own personal gain – to learn information about Hestia’s personal life in order to feel better about their own. But Hestia knew better than to think of Lily that way. Lily didn’t seem to have a selfish bone in her body. It was almost unbelievable how easily she was able to put others before herself. She couldn’t help but wonder how the woman made sure that her own needs were met, too. Lily was so busy looking after everyone else in the world – who was taking care of her? “It better be. The last thing I need is for my mum to come around bragging about how I finally admitted that she’s my number one inspiration in life. – though I should remind her that I appreciate her more often. It’s a careful balance,” Hestia joked. She wasn’t sure of Lily’s relationship with her mother; she knew that her sister was a sore subject, though, so she didn’t want to turn the conversation onto Lily’s family if it didn’t need to be. “She really is. I can’t even argue with you about it. I mean, she has her moments, just like anyone, but… if I end up like her, I’ll be lucky. If she expected to have two children that listen, she’d be disappointed for a long time now. You’re probably right.” Hestia chuckled. “Are you trying to flatter me, Lily Evans? I didn’t know I made the list at all, much less that I’m high up on it. It’s an honor. Truly.” Something felt off about Lily’s smile. It wasn’t as bright, as energetic as it typically was. The war definitely had taken a toll on everyone; Hestia wondered how much of that burden Lily had kept in and how much she allowed herself to share with the people around her. “I don’t mean this in any sort of offensive way,” she began. “But who said being a freak was a bad thing? I mean, she’ll never quite understand what being you is like, and it isn’t a nice way to say that you’re different, but… it’s her right to have the perspective, I suppose. And there are worse things to be in this world than freakish.” It definitely wasn’t the best advice, but Hestia wanted to provide as much humor in her insight as possible. “People hate people for outrageous things. Big things, small things, everything in between. She might not even know why she feels the way she does, honestly. Maybe she’s working through it herself, and Venon gives her a justification that helps her not need one for herself.”

Lily was no stranger to the odd looks people gave her. At first it had been for her hair; then for being so bright and adept with magic for being Muggleborn. Then, as she got older, her relationship with Severus and later with James; somewhere along the line, her ability to use compassion as a limb rather than a simple facet of her personality had become a factor in those looks just the same. The belief her mother had written into her, to treat others how she wished to be treated, was proving to not always be the case. There were plenty who would view her as weak for being kind, and those who hated her solely for her blood, her house, or anything else. But that couldn’t stop her; she didn’t want to ever stoop to those levels, to lose herself in the process.

“Well, you know what they say. Actions speak louder than words,” Lily laughed, thinking warmly of her mother. “It might be a cliche, but those tend to exist for a reason. You could always show the appreciation without saying so; give her reason to brag about you instead of at you.” She offered, the warmth still in her voice. Lily adored her parents, intelligent and kind people that had given her whatever they could of the world and encouraged the gifts she brought herself. It pained her to be so distant from them now, though it was for the best. To hear Hestia speak so warmly of her own family was a relief, in a way; the reminder that not everything was being torn apart by the war was one Lily hadn’t realized she needed. “I know that feeling. My mother is. . .everything I aspire to be. If I ever end up half the woman or mum she is I think I’ll be fortunate.” Children were a terrifying thought, especially in their current climate, but Lily couldn’t help the thoughts when they emerged. “Oh, stop it.” She laughed again, rolling her eyes. “I doubt it’s that exciting to hear, but I’m glad to know you’re pleased about it all the same. Flattery or not, it’s still true. I don’t make a habit to lie.” Not if she could afford it, at least, especially not around friends.

As Hestia spoke, Lily felt the knot in her stomach constrict. Just as quickly, it seemed to loosen just enough for her to breathe again. In moments like these she was reminded of how truly grateful she was for the friends she had in this world; Hestia’s kindness was staggering, whether she could see it for herself or not. “It’s not offensive at all.” She promised, her smile small but more genuine than Lily could have expected, talking about her sister, of Petunia’s excessive distaste for what had become of Lily Evans. “That’s. . .a very mature way to think of it, actually. And I appreciate it, truly.” More than she could put into words. Something about the way Hestia said it, the reminder that it wasn’t a reflection of Lily, was something she had needed more than the woman had allowed herself to realize. “Either way, Vernon is awful.” She admitted a moment later, more heavily than she wished. He seemed to always be hateful, and although a bitter piece of Lily’s mind couldn’t help thinking it was because of her, she was certain that was just his nonexistent personality. “I doubt my opinion would mean much to her, but to be honest, she could find better. Though I suppose she seems happy enough, at least from what Mum tells me.”

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amelia.

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip. To be honest, now that she was home and felt mildly safe, her aches and pains were beginning to assert themselves more firmly. She could continue to ignore them, Merlin knew she’d gotten good at that over the last year, but some small, rational part of her mind told her that was foolish. There was a healer in her living room hugging a potted plant. If Lily wanted to stay, Amelia supposed that was alright. 

“Do you like coffee?” she asked heading toward the tiny kitchen and trying not to limp. When had her knee been injured? “I doubt there’s anything much to put in it, but I’m assuming Edgar wouldn’t let anyone get rid of the coffee itself. There might be some sugar.” 

She reached up to the cupboard where she typically kept her coffee and winced as the action pulled at her side. Her arm curled over her ribs again and she managed to pull down a tin of coffee. It was old, probably wouldn’t taste fantastic to someone who drank coffee regularly, but she hadn’t had a cup in a year. To her, the coffee would be amazing. “I’d offer more but…” she trailed off, stepping back and showing the empty cupboard. Anything perishable had been removed long ago and Amelia had never been much of a cook. Coffee though, that she could do. 

Tomorrow she’d have to start running errands. Tonight she’d just check the wards and bathe and sleep in her own bed. On instinct, she reached for her wand and remembered it was gone. It had been snapped in front of her months ago. Ragged fingernails tapped against the counter as she waited for the coffee to brew. Suddenly she didn’t feel as great about being home again. Not if she couldn’t protect herself. 

“Damn it,” she muttered. Glancing up at Lily, she frowned slightly. “You can put the plant down. Consider it a house warming or whatever. Unless you need to take it back to the hospital, then you can. Either way, you don’t have to keep holding it right now. If you’re staying, might as well make yourself comfortable. Don’t suppose you’d let me borrow your wand to check the wards? I don’t know if anyone’s been keeping up with that sort of thing.”

Despite her reluctance to leave, Lily suddenly felt very intrusive. Standing so close to the door with a potted plant in her arms, green eyes watching Amelia move about with cautious curiosity, was beginning to feel awkward. She didn’t want to leave, not without the certainty that the other woman was just as okay as she had been claiming she was. Healer instincts were strong and unceasing, accompanied with Lily’s inherent need to care about other people. Simply leaving felt out of the question, though she was certain Amelia would deny her offer to stay.

So when Amelia didn’t in turn try and push her out the door, instead offering coffee, Lily felt a surge of emotion that was something between relief and guilt. Who was she to be grateful for such an invitation? Amelia had been returned from the brink of hell, something Lily had only seen flashes of regardless her own interactions in Death Eater holdings. She and the woman before her had never been close, but all the same, Lily was grateful for the unspoken invitation. Even if Amelia would let nobody touch her (Healer or not) maybe the company would help. Maybe to some degree, Lily could do some good for the other witch, no matter how small. If it had been her, she would loathe being alone; but then, between James and the others, she wouldn’t have a choice. Amelia deserved to have that decision, no matter how concerned Lily was.

“I’m a bit of a coffee addict these days myself.” She finally answered, offering a small smile in response. Between long hours at the hospital and late nights assisting the Order, her never easing worries, Lily was finding it harder to truly sleep through the night. It was hard to tell what would be too much, if anything. How much warmth was Amelia Bones willing to receive? What would be crossing a line? No matter the answer, Lily would have a hard time putting a stop to her instinctual responses, even if she should. “I tend to take it black these days anyway,” she added, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness she could tell Amelia felt. Returning home was surely a relief, though the empty cabinets and clear tinge of something being different had to be palpable to an uncomfortable degree.  

Glancing around for an open spot, Lily took the woman’s advice, finding an open spot on a nearby table for the plant. She couldn’t imagine anyone missing it from the hospital, and besides -- maybe something bright and alive would help Amelia in some way. Mentally, she made a note to enchant it to persevere before she left; it wouldn’t be as in depth as the fish she had given Horace, but it would be something. “Please, don’t worry about food, I’m alright. Although I’d be happy to go and find something, if you’d like; take a bit of the weight of chores off your shoulders.” She offered. It wasn’t much, but she couldn’t help but try. 

At her question, Lily’s eyebrows raised in surprise for a moment, before she managed to smooth out her expression again. It wasn’t such an outlandish question, nor was it really that shocking Amelia didn’t have her wand. Of course they’d have stolen and destroyed that too. Wordlessly she reached into her jacket, to the inside pocket she held her wand in when she didn’t need it, holding it out for Amelia. “Do whatever you need to; and if I can do anything to help at all, with the wards or anything else please, just ask.” It wasn’t entirely what she meant, but there were only so many ways to ask if someone was okay, and Lily knew how exhausting it could be to hear repeatedly.

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florence.

While the concept of listening to other people and offering them time, energy, and compassion wasn’t completely unknown by Florence, it certainly seemed like a somewhat foreign concept. People were complicated. They had too many moving pieces, many of which did not fit within the pieces of Florence’s own personal life and problems. They were like puzzles – always being sorted through and adjusted and turned and twisted about to be put back into a uniform image. And as much as Florence liked puzzles, she simply did not have the time to solve every single one that came her way. “I suppose that seems fair,” she conceded to Lily. The redheaded woman seemed to thrive by incorporating pieces from other people’s puzzles into her own. It was impressive, to say the least. And more than that… she was good at it. She could take another person’s words, think about them for only a few minutes, and somehow find a way to respond that not only made sense, but made people feel better in doing so. The woman would be a great healer. A compassionate one. Lily Evans surely had more bedside manner in her pinky finger than Florence Wilson had in her entire body. “And what if it doesn’t change us for the better? What if grief turns us into a monster? Or worse – what if it shuts us down entirely?” Since her mother’s passing, Florence felt like she couldn’t feel as wholly as she once had. That part of her had gone cold along with her mother’s corpse. “There isn’t much to do with grief other than to shut it down. There’s nothing good that can come from feeling sorry for yourself or missing the dead. It only leads to melancholy, and nobody has time for that.” But as Lily spoke, it became apparent that the girl was speaking from some sort of personal experience. “It sounds like you know what you’re talking about,” Florence offered in return. It wasn’t a complete offer to listen to Lily’s own problems, but Florence would reciprocate Lily’s openness and willingness to listen if the girl wanted to open up to her as well. “We have to believe there’s something better coming. That we are part of a change. Maybe it’ll take more than our lifetime. Maybe it’ll take decades. But if we don’t fight for what we think is right, we’re complicit in our own destruction. And I’d rather be the person putting my life on the line than have it be taken from me anyway and have not done anything to stop it.”

She had a hard time grasping why other people seemed so taken aback by her willingness and desire to care for them. It seemed so simple, at least to Lily; the very foundation of being human was to care. That wasn’t to say that there were those who didn’t - she had plenty experience with apathy, whether she liked it or not - but it seemed self explanatory. To be alive was to feel things, and there didn’t seem to be much point in any of it if compassion and companionship weren’t involved. Maybe that was naive, but it was a way of thinking Lily Evans needed. She needed to believe that there were people out there willing to open themselves up to others, whether that meant taking care of them or simply being a needed presence to serve as the reminder that they weren’t alone. Basic human decency didn’t need to be rewarded or explained, and yet Lily couldn’t help feeling as if she was constantly doing just that. “I would like to think so, at least.” She spoke, shrugging her shoulders as she did. “I’d like to think that as a whole, being kind isn’t so foreign to other people. Though lately it seems to be.”

The truth was, Lily didn’t think she could stop giving too much if she tried. War had made it easier to accept that at some point, regardless of how loudly her heart wept and how desperately she wanted to continue as she did, it would have to stop. Eventually the mosaic she had comprised herself to be for others would be little more than fragments if she wasn’t careful. But what good would she be to completely change who she was? It was probably smartest, but it wouldn’t be fair to her in the end. And if she hadn’t changed for Petunia or anyone else that ever hurt her, she refused to do it now. “There is more than one way that people can die to us.” Lily argued, her voice quieter than it was before. Of all the things she imagined arguing, this was not one of those things; Florence Wilson was well known merely for being stubborn and opinionated, but Lily couldn’t say she blamed her. Yes, she didn’t know the other woman very well, but the heavily enforced armor she seemed to wear around ever allowing herself a moment of sheer human emotion was evident. “Grief can turn you into a monster if you aren’t careful, but ignoring it and refusing to ever allow a moment of pain or sadness for yourself can do the same thing.” That she had seen firsthand, whether she ever wished to admit it or not. 

There were few in Lily’s life now that truly understood the weight of being what she was. Being a Muggleborn in a war meant to diminish them into ash and echoes was dangerous, and while she loved her friends and the family she had constructed for herself, they didn’t understand. The target that wore over her head every moment wasn’t there for them, not in the same way. She respected Florence for that, for using it as a badge or honor and refused to step down. It was the only thing they could stand to do, but still. . .something seemed off, though just what remained a mystery. “That’s just it. We’re complicit no matter what we do, especially if we keep using their actions as a foundation for retaliation.” Lily wasn’t an idiot. She knew that to many, the Order wasn’t doing enough; but Aversio seemed too ready to use the Death Eaters’ tactics against them, to continue killing and harming people. It was one thing when it was Dolohov, or others who seemed to be in support of Voldemort. But so many innocent people were continuing to get caught in the crossfire, and that hardly seemed necessary. Maybe she really was naive, her very nature battling the war on itself, but she couldn’t help it and she couldn’t shake it. “Pushing forward with little thought to the consequences doesn’t seem like a very good way to fight this, either.”

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“ - she was also an uncommonly k i n d woman.”

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remus.

Despite his best intentions, Remus was tense. He braced for Lily’s news as if it was a physical blow. Remus sucked in his breath, trying outwardly to disguise how much his anxiety chewed at his insides as the following moment seemed to carry silence for an unnaturally long time.

To her question, Remus frowned. James… dad… it didn’t connect. Remus had been staring at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap, but at this he met her eyes with total confusion. Lily looked upset, as if this was hard for her to say. Was she trying to change the subject again? Make a joke?

Throughout school, Remus was well aware that many students coveted James Potter’s attention. Despite this, he had never viewed James as the sexual figure that Sirius had made himself out to be. When James had finally won over Lily as a beau, Remus thought of them as an idyllic couple. It just made sense for them to be together. Nevertheless, despite all of James’ posturing and social performance, he always kept the intimate side of his and Lily’s relationship private. Where Sirius would boast his sexual “conquests”, James remained unusually quiet. It wasn’t that Remus thought of his friends in a sexual capacity normally, it was just that he suddenly realized how little he had even recognized that part of James and Lily’s relationship existed.

But Remus had still failed to connect Lily’s trailing words. He continued to look up into her face, searching for clarity as the muscles throughout his legs tightened stiffly. When she finally spoke again, Remus closed his eyes. His hands rose to cradle his face, and he breathed into them. Pregnancy. Remus’ sigh was audible as he exhaled through his fingers. “Oh my-” He breathed shakily. He was so certain the news would be bad. He had been so pessimistic. Remus felt something triumphant rise in him, something like hope mixed with a reminder of how much of a massive git he could be.

One moment he was curled into himself hardly breathing, the next he was standing, holding Lily to him with extreme carefulness and excitement. “Pregnant?” Remus exclaimed, pulling back just enough to look into her face, a huge smile covering his own. “Lily-” He laughed, Remus looked happier than Lily had ever seen him, there was a rare brightness to him. “Does Sirius know?” he then gently pulled her back into a hug at the same time a deep laugh rocked through him. “I’m so stupid- does James know?”

It was equal parts relieving and nauseating to say the word aloud. Pregnant. Of all the things to happen in war, having a baby hadn’t been anywhere on the list of possibilities Lily had imagined; dying had been more likely than the chance of bringing a new life into the world as it was. She had run through so many emotions in the short time since she had learned of the baby that it was almost exhausting to think about. First had been the denial, the refusal to believe that either she or James could have been so stupid as to not have been more careful. Then the resignation, when she realized that there was no ‘more careful’ for them. War had practically jump-started the rest of their lives, in a way that Lily was only now realizing she hadn’t been prepared for. 

The thought of having a baby at twenty years old was petrifying, but she couldn’t help the strong, almost unnatural, urge to protect it at all costs already. There was the fear James wouldn’t be happy, or that something could go wrong. Whether that be before the pregnancy was over, or after, war tearing apart the family before they could begin. Every possibility seemed endless and it had been circling through Lily’s mind like a vicious, horrifying sort of carousel for days. Nothing was turning out how it was meant to in the first place, but then, barely five years before Lily Evans would have scoffed at the idea of marrying James Potter at all. She had never been a believer in fate, having grown far too pessimistic for that after her sister’s decided disowning of her, but it was hard to ignore now. If convincing herself there was a reason this was happening as it was would help get her through it, then damn it that was what Lily had to do. How in the hell had Andromeda and Molly done this? She was terrified, and no amount of stubborn internalizing could change that.

She stood silently by the counter, green eyes gauging Remus and his reaction carefully. It hadn’t been until the words were spoken, hanging in the air between them, that she realized how much pressure had lifted from her chest to even say it at all. Not keeping it to herself was something the witch had sorely needed, more than she realized. The witch didn’t realize how stiff she had become until suddenly Remus had risen from the couch, and was then there, arms around her. It happened so quickly she was almost dizzy, but it was a reaction she had needed. Suddenly, then, her eyes began to prick with tears; whether the relief of no longer being alone with the news or those heightened emotions, she wasn’t sure. 

“No, no, you’re the first to know actually.” Lily admitted, and suddenly the realization dawned on her and caused a laugh to erupt through her, and the stray tears in her eyes. Even imagining the reaction Sirius would have, were he to ever know Remus was first to hear, was something she had needed. To remember that she wasn’t going to be alone in this regardless of circumstance was almost overwhelmingly needed. “I found out right after James and Marlene left on their trip to. . .well, you know. Not the best timing,” she sighed, her shoulders deflating slightly as she thought about it. James had to return, and he would. That she had to keep reminding herself, even if she viciously hated herself for having become that woman. “It’s still early, the initial shock is starting to wear, I think.” Was it true? She wasn’t sure, but Lily hoped maybe speaking it would will its existence.

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She had a way of seeing the beauty in others. Perhaps most especially when that person couldn't see it in themselves.

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hestia.

Sympathy. She’d received a decent amount of it in the past few days, though she wasn’t quite sure that she deserved it. She knew that she was risking her job by writing an article like the one she wrote. She knew that not everyone was going to be happy with what she had to say. And even though she certainly didn’t deserve to be fired for writing what she saw as the truth, she understood that the Daily Prophet had every right to let her go if she were costing them valuable readership that would be difficult to get back. But Lily’s sympathy was still welcomed. Hestia felt alone without it, and it was important to know that she still had a friend in the world – someone who had her back. “I appreciate it, Lily. Truly.” She gave her friend a small smile, as if to say ‘thank you for caring.’ “She may have been. Don’t tell her that I said this, but sometimes I think she might be the smartest woman that I’ve ever known.” Mrs. Jones had so much wisdom tucked away in her beautiful mind. Hestia felt lucky that she’d heard even some of the woman’s wise musings. “I really should listen to her more often. But, then again, where’s the fun in that?” Even though she was still quite young – she’d only graduated from Hogwarts a short time ago – Hestia felt that she’d grown up quite a bit since her school days. She had distanced herself from her rebellious tendencies, had learned from the experiences she had. Then again, with recent happenings in mind, maybe she hadn’t grown up quite that much after all. “So I’ll keep you company, then. Just tell me if I overstep or anything. But I’m happy to stick around if it wouldn’t bother you.” As much as Lily’s heart seemed to ache for Hestia in her current predicament, Hestia felt equally sorrowful when she thought about Lily and her relationship with her family. She couldn’t understand what it would be like to have people she cared so deeply for unable to fully comprehend what she was going through or the world that she was living in. It was even more difficult to imagine the people she loved not wanting to comprehend it. “If I can do anything, please, let me know. I’m sure it’s quite difficult keeping them in the dark. But maybe it is for the best that they don’t know everything.” The worst thing would be to put even more people in harm’s way just for the sake of transparency. The mention of Petunia and her husband made Hestia shudder. “I never understood that. How she could… write you off like that, even though you were both raised in the same household, both raised to be loving, caring people. Does she really think that you’re not the same person you were before you knew about magic?” Hestia sighed. “It isn’t silly. It’s… honest. A human reaction. And things will always happen around us, but we have to be in touch with what’s going on inside of us too.”

It was proving to be far more delicate a balance than Lily was used to, trying to demonstrate her compassion without overstepping. In school and even after, before the war had encroached upon every aspect of daily life, it had been easy enough to do; nobody had ever seemed to push her away for it before. Well, almost nobody. But Severus and Petunia hadn’t been part of her life for a long time, and despite the pang in her chest every time she remembered that, the ginger knew it was for the best that way. The practice of turning her love off for other people wasn’t something Lily was particularly skilled in, and for Hestia to be one not to challenge that was a relief. She wanted to worry, to be there as a companion if she could be. It was relieving to see the other woman wasn’t going to stop her. “Anytime.” She responded with a small but warm smile of her own.

“Oh, your secret is safe with me.” Lily promised with a small laugh. The faith and belief in her mother was a feeling that the witch was all too familiar with herself; Mrs. Evans had more wisdom and warmth in her heart than Lily could ever hope to compete with. She could only hope that someday her own children would be able to say the same for her, regardless of when they came about. It was hard to imagine bringing life into such a dark and brutal world, but it was surely happening everyday; not imagining that future was growing more and more difficult, though Lily did her best to squash those feelings when they brimmed so close to the surface. “Your mum sounds like a wonderful woman,” she added warmly, hoping Hestia wouldn’t mind. “We’re young enough they don’t expect us to listen, I’m sure,” She laughed again, grateful to have the opportunity to. While she did try daily to find reason to feel happy, it was growing more difficult. “Well, then, I am happy to hear it. You’re certainly high on my list of company to wish for, especially these days. It’s no bother at all, I promise.”

That Hestia seemed so willing to understand, or at the very least to listen, was a relief stronger than most others. It seemed selfish to be so grateful for their friendship in that moment, but she was. Having her there, to listen and to simply be, to remind Lily that good things still existed in their darkening world, was a relief. Something that was much needed, especially as things continued to get darker and more vicious by the day. “You’ve already done more than enough, Hestia. But thank you.” she promised, her smile weaker now, not quite reaching her eyes. The distance between Lily and her family felt more like a crater, though it was necessary; more than once she found herself having to live with the reminder that she had James, and her friends, and that would have to be enough until the war was over. “She thinks the magic made me a freak. I used to think it was jealousy, our parents always knew it made me special. . .Vernon only seemed to make her that much more hateful.” She admitted with a quiet sigh. Talking about Petunia was painful, but Hestia was a safe person to open up to, no matter how much she hated it. “I wish I knew why she seems to hate me so much, but if I’m honest, I think knowing might make me feel even worse.” Lily added quietly, shaking her head. Almost forcefully, she managed another small smile, hoping it would help show the gratitude she felt in that moment, “you’re right. I guess all we can do is make the most of what we do have, even if it is. . .very bittersweet at times.”

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remus.

“Old Batty. Sounds like a riot!” Remus chuckled into the last bite of bagel. He took in a big breath, allowing Lily’s comments about his employment fade away into a comfortable silence.

The House was quiet for being so suburban. He took a moment to look around, a physical manifestation of what James and Lily were working hard to build together. It was peaceful. Remus realized that it was the first time in a while he had been taking long, deep breaths.

“So.” He started slowly, his voice gentle. “Do you want to talk about it yet?” How was that for surprising? Remus wasn’t usually one to push an issue, but things were too vulnerable these days. Too precious. If something was wrong with Lily he wanted to protect her from it.

That wasn’t to say it was easy. Remus could feel his throat tighten as a small well of anxiety pressed at him. Would she become upset? Throw him out? Feel pressured? Lie?

It took everything in him to not let his nervous ticks win. He avoided biting his lip or running a hand through his hair. It took everything not to apologize or retract his question, but nevertheless… if something was bad enough to make Lily ill, it was worth the price of his comfort to know about it.

“I’m sure you’ll meet her and see it for yourself eventually. She makes it a habit to visit every few days.” Lily admitted, letting out a laugh as she thought fondly of Bathilda. It was still a bit strange to her, to live in a village that was full of magical history but still seemed to coexist with Muggles. And yet it felt comforting at the same time, regardless of how surreal it felt. She was always learning, it seemed; about the history of the Hollow, or Dumbledore’s family, how to live around Muggles when so much magic was in the air. This was a learning curve unlike Hogwarts or the hospital, and yet Lily had fallen into it rather easily. 

It wasn’t lost on her, that Remus changed the subject away from himself, but she didn’t mention it. If he didn’t want to talk about his situation, or the lack of trust their society seemed to have in him, then she wouldn’t force him. He was well aware of her opinions on the subject, of the anger that she had when thinking of how people mistreated him. Regardless of the fact she could go on rants about it for hours - and had in fact, in the past, whether to James or Emmeline or even Remus himself - she could bite her tongue if need be. This seemed to be one of those times, her friend deserving not to dwell on it. Reality was bleak enough for them all as it was, without drowning in that fact at every waking moment. Even if at times they still did. 

His question froze her, hands stilling over the kettle. Of course he would ask. If the situation was reversed, and she had walked in on Remus seeming to be ill, she would have pressed it too. Instinctively, she sucked her lip between her teeth, letting out a puff of breath as she hesitated. Telling Remus, one of her closest friends -- one of James’ best friends -- about the baby wasn’t going to end badly. Even if she wanted to tell James first, more than anything, there was nothing to tell her when he would return from the mission he had run off on. She refused to let herself dwell on the ifs of that scenario, desperate to believe he would come home. And she was just far enough along that telling someone wouldn’t be stupid, even if only for her own sanity. That was what she had to tell herself.

Dropping her eyes, Lily’s arm instinctively wrapped around her middle in an impulse she hadn’t known she possessed before the news hit. There was no bump yet, nothing to tell she was pregnant other than the mere fact that she was, but maternal instincts seemed to be hitting her already. “He’ll be a good dad. James, I mean. Don’t you think?” She asked quietly, sucking in a deep breath before raising her eyes back towards where Remus was perched on the arm of the couch. Her voice was going to crack, and she knew it, but there was no getting around that; damned hormones were making her feelings that much stronger. “I-- I’m pregnant, Remus.”

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hestia.

She wasn’t sure if things would ever truly be the same as they had once been – so much had changed since she was first blamed for the incident at the Prophet. Hestia wanted to believe that all of it was for the better. Even if it was painful to live through now, that pain could be for a better future. And even if she wasn’t certain of that fact, Hestia chose to try and believe it anyway, just to push herself into optimism, no matter how foreign a concept it seemed these days. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault that it went down the way that it did.” So many people wished that they could do something, that they could help in some way. But they couldn’t. It was over. In the past. Now all that they could do was move forward. “Doing what you can is always enough. You can’t do more than that, can you?” she asked, her tone almost playful. “There’s no good that can come from pushing yourself too hard and trying to be everything to everyone. You’re best doing a few things exceptionally well than doing an exceptional amount of things poorly. That’s what my mother used to say, anyway. She wasn’t really a multitasker.” At the offer to help, Hestia chuckled. “I don’t know if I’d be much help, honestly. I mean, I’m a decent baker, and potions and baking are really all about being exact. I just wouldn’t want to get in the way. But company… that happens to be something I know I can provide.” Hestia nodded as Lily spoke. She couldn’t imagine having a family that was so distant; she’d always been relatively close with her parents, and Gwenog was a life saver in more ways than one. She could never understand having such distaste for anyone she was related to in the way that Petunia seemed to have for her sister. “So they know? About the war?” It was something that Hestia hadn’t quite considered. How did Muggle born witches and wizards tell their families about such awful things? “But you still hold out hope, don’t you? That she’ll come around? I mean, she has to, doesn’t she? She’s your sister. Other than my parents, my sister’s really the only person I have… nearby, anyway.” Realizing that she was making this moment about herself, Hestia went quiet. “You don’t have to be okay, you know… it’s okay to be upset about this kind of stuff.”

The day of Hestia’s article was vivid in the witch’s mind, even though she was well aware it had nothing to do with her. A piece of writing that called the Death Eaters what they were, stated the obvious that so many were afraid to admit to, and yet it was the writer who was punished. It was more wildly unfair than Lily Evans could comprehend at the time, and seeing her friend now, that didn’t seem to change by much. Had the Prophet really become so corrupt that they refused to see sense? Or were they too afraid to? That seemed to be something that could go either way, and the redhead wasn’t sure which would be better. All she knew for certain was that Hestia hadn’t deserved to be fired for it, that she didn’t deserve to have her dream shattered merely for telling the truth. “It may not have been my fault, but I can still sympathize for it, can’t I?” She asked, though regardless of Hestia’s answer, Lily would still do it. Turning off her ability to feel things was an impossible ask.

Despite herself, Lily felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards slightly, her green eyes rolling in a light hearted way at Hestia’s words. The words were heavy, but something in her tone reminded Lily that things could still be light even if those moments were fleeting and far between. It felt comforting, in a way, to know that; regardless of how long it would or would not last. “I think your mum was onto something. At least when it comes to not overworking yourself.” Lily admitted with a warm smile. It sounded like something her mother would have said as well, were she to know everything that had been going on. If that wasn’t so painfully, dreadfully dangerous. Hell, she’d probably say so either way. “But I’m far too invested in everyone’s well beings not to do it, even if it does stretch me too thin. Or so I’ve been told.” She added with a small laugh, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t be in the way; admittedly I could use the company, it would be nice to have something other than my own thoughts to listen to. The choice is yours either way.”

Her family was a sore spot. No matter how much Lily loved them, no matter how desperate she was for their safety, it hurt more than she liked to think of them. Any distance between her parents was equally her doing, but it was better that way. As for Petunia, well. . .her sister had made it apparent years before how she felt. Not that it made her feel any better. “Not in so many words.” She answered, voice softer than it had been a moment before as she thought of her mother. “My mum has figured out enough to know that something is going on. If she knew the danger I was in, I imagine she would be begging me daily to come home, and if I told her that her blood was reason enough for danger she wouldn’t ever forgive herself.” The words flew out faster than Lily had anticipated, but it felt good to say them to somebody. She was afraid, and her worry haunted her every waking moment whether she wished for it or not. At Hestia’s question, Lily’s teeth raked over her bottom lip. Oh, she wanted to think Petunia would come around, no matter how solidly she knew otherwise. “I think whatever chance she had at that disappeared when she met her husband. She always thought I was a freak, but he’s seemed to only make it worse.” Lily admitted quietly, grateful her voice didn’t give away the full extent of her distaste for Vernon Dudley. “I know.” She nodded, a weak smile on her lips again, “but it feels silly, being upset over something like this when we have so many other things going on around us.”

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amelia.

Amelia nodded; she’d expected her apartment to be searched and wasn’t looking forward to the potential mess left behind. Even if one of her brothers or her parents had gone in and cleaned up after them, things would still be out of place. In a weird way she was looking forward to cleaning and getting settled back into her apartment. Nesting. She needed things to be familiar. She just wanted to go home. 

She kept her arms crossed over her ribs while Lily cast the charms to create the portkey. It was fast and efficient, if a bit uncomfortable, but discomfort was incredibly relative these days. While Lily was distracted, she carefully prodded her side. There was a gash that she hadn’t let the healers look at but she didn’t think the portkey would bother it too much. She looked over when Lily spoke again and stepped forward. “Let’s go.” 

Laying her hand on the portkey she waited for the sensation of a hook behind her belly button; it didn’t take long. She was jerked forward, her hand stuck on the plant until they reached their destination. As she expected, the apartment felt…off. Letting go of the plant, Amelia crossed to the windows and pulled open the curtains to let in some light, then immediately set about straightening things and looking around. 

“You don’t have to stay,” Amelia said, glancing over at the other woman. “I’m fine. I’m just going to make coffee and clean. Probably take a bath for the first time in a literal year.” 

   Portkeys were not a pleasant means of transportation by any stretch of the imagination; Lily would much rather do just about anything else, though she imagined it had to be one of the more safe options, given the situation. She didn’t know for certain, but the witch wouldn’t be surprised if Amelia were injured somehow; it would be better for her not to become Splinched on her way home; no matter how skilled at Apparition someone was, the redhead was well aware that the horror of being sliced open was always an option. Too many people had come into the hospital on account of it for the act to ever be preferable. 

   The tugging sensation of a hook behind her stomach pulled her forward, into a nauseating abyss of scenery passing quickly, before they eventually landed at their destination. Lily’s grip on the plant tightened as her feet steadied themselves, in an attempt not to drop it. A broken pot and some spoiled plant anatomy on the ground was the least of anyone’s worries, but she was sure it wouldn’t add to the welcome home. Amelia let go and began rushing about, and the redheaded witch held the plant close to her chest, unsure what else to do with it.

   Her green eyes glanced around the apartment, curiosity and a sense of concern taking over her. It was, undoubtedly, none of her business one way or the other what had happened to Amelia’s home and she knew that. But still, she couldn’t help herself; the woman in question was finally home, and she couldn’t help but worry and hope that she would be safe there, now. Of course, Lily was certain she could place charms and enchantments if need be, but would that be going too far? Would her concern be seen as intrusive, obtuse or otherwise wrong? She couldn’t be sure one way or the other.

   At Amelia’s words, her eyes snapped back toward her, widening slightly of their own accord.  Lily hadn’t meant to overstay her welcome, and was quite positive that leaving Amelia alone would fill her with more intense worry than she ought to be allowed. “I don’t mind staying, if you’d like the company.” She offered. If she had been alone in the Death Eaters’ clutches for a year, Merlin knew she wouldn’t want to be alone anymore; but Amelia was different. And she certainly didn’t want to impose, but Healer instincts and her general intuition was battling common courtesy. “Though if you’d rather I go, that's your choice.”

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florence.

She might not of seen herself that way, but Florence couldn’t help but see Lily as someone who was always there, always caring, always listening… and somehow, always kind, too. It was something that she wished she could be, but knew that she couldn’t. There was always something that got in the way of Florence stepping up to be that kind, caring friend. Perhaps she was too judgmental. Perhaps she’d seen enough people give into their kindness only to have it used against them. Or maybe, as much as she didn’t want this to be true, she simply wasn’t capable of being that kind of friend. “As long as you say so,” she shrugged, trying to keep the smile on her face. “Because grief isn’t useful when the person you’re mourning was lost to something so senseless.” She’d watched her mother fade, watched as the life drained out of her and she became little more than a body and a whisper of a soul. Grieving her mother wasn’t useful to her fight with Aversio. Her loss had nothing to do with the prejudice and awful views of the Death Eaters. Her mother had been lost to one of the most mundane things in the history of humankind – illness. “All my grief is good for is remembering what I can’t have anymore and wishing that things were different. I can’t use that pain for anything more than reminiscing.” Though… she supposed that Lily had a point. It would take a good amount of creative thinking and posturing to find use for her pain, but that wasn’t to say that it was impossible. “If I’m not pushing my grief and sadness onto you, you certainly wouldn’t be pushing it onto me. Plus, I offered. If I end up regretting it later, let me assure you that it will be entirely my fault.”

     Lily's heart bled more frequently than she cared to admit, and she never understood why people seemed to find that such a phenomena. She wasn’t naive, not by any stretch of the imagination; no, she was well aware that there were plenty out there who chose cruelty and hate over the love and acceptance that seemed so easy for her. If everyone saw compassion as an easy way of doing things, there would be no Death Eaters, or Aversio, or hateful words like ‘Mudblood’ to throw around. Her compassion was a gift, many people had told her that; and yet, for whatever reason, Lily never saw it that way. There was too much hate in her life and the world not to be kind when it was possible. Even if it resulted in the other person eyeing her strangely, as Florence seemed to be. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t do it.” She promised with a small, but warm, smile. 

     “Grief changes us, whether we see it or not, and that isn’t useless.” Lily argued. Maybe it wasn’t her place, to tell others how to handle their grief. She knew pain on an intimate level, even if her family wasn’t dead, they surely weren’t in her life. “It’s how you use it that dictates what it does, whatever that means. Being angry and ignoring it is only going to end up drawing you down, whether than doing anything else.” She was well acquainted with the ways that pain could diminish you; first with Petunia, and then with Severus. Dealing with it had been a painful experience, and more than once she found herself wondering about the ‘what ifs’ but they only seemed to reopen the wounds. And that, if nothing else, was vividly ineffective. “If you don’t deal with it, you...never have closure. I know I can’t control anyone else’s choices, I just know that...” She drew her bottom lip into her teeth, huffing out a breath, pausing for a moment. “If I hadn’t let the pain become something effective to work through, I would have become somebody I wouldn’t like very much.”

     She paused for a moment, falling silent at the words. Lily was well aware her actions must sound hypocritical; allowing everyone around her to speak of their problems, to be vulnerable for however long they needed, but never allowing herself the same courtesy. It hadn’t always been so challenging, but the young witch couldn’t help feeling as if somehow, voicing her fears and problems might harm someone else, add extra weight to the burdens everyone was carrying these days. “Sometimes, I worry that whatever we do will be futile. People keep going missing on every side, and...it’s hard to believe that the war will stop before we’re all dead. Except that won’t fix anything, just postpone it for someone else to deal with, and that doesn’t seem right.”

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hesitancy | lily & andromeda

The Tonks residence December 23, 1979 @dromeda-tonks

Lily was pacing. She had been at it so long Crookshanks had stopped trying to comfort her, and instead had perched on the arm of the couch with a solemn look in his bright, green eyes; had paced for so long that it wouldn’t be surprising if tracks were worn into the carpet. Back and forth, from one end to the other, thoughts spinning a mile a minute through her mind. Uncertainty. Worry. Determination, fear. It was getting harder to pinpoint exactly what it was she was feeling, but it wasn’t pleasant by any stretch. The nausea was rolling through in waves, reminding her the positive results weren’t a lie, that there really would be a baby. And that, somewhere in the world, that baby’s father was on a rescue mission with no indication when he would return. It was scary enough, thinking of a child coming into a world this cruel. But it was something altogether when there were so many unanswered questions of just what that world would look like. She had been trapped in her mind, all rationale and logic battling emotion and instinct. Even with Remus sleeping on the couch - a beautiful gift from some higher power, not leaving her alone - Lily couldn’t squelch the worries. Couldn’t quite the noise or think of anything but the baby regardless of how hard she tried.

There was only one person that she imagined could understand, only one other woman that could offer advice and sympathy. Andromeda Tonks was braver than many other women that the young witch had ever known for many reasons, but to have her daughter was near the top of the list. More than once, she considered seeking her out. To finally tell someone and no longer feel so alone with the news would be a blessing. But, then, quick as that thought came to her it disappeared -- Andromeda had her own life. Her own challenges to deal with, things that didn’t deserve to be distracted because Lily Evans was pregnant. Teeth worried into her lip as her pacing continued, Crookshanks watching her every move. Maybe she could write to Andy, ask to meet her. Or maybe she could invite her for tea. Or, maybe, there was the chance she could run into her by happenstance and hope Andromeda wouldn’t rush away from her. Just as quick as the thoughts came to mind, Lily realized the other solution; Andromeda had promised more than once that she was always welcome. And while the redhead was never one to intrude, this was an instance where waiting might drive her mad. With one glance toward the cat and sucking in a deep breath, Lily reached for the fireplace. The Floo network had only recently been connected, was a secret, but she hoped it would do the trick. Grabbing a handful of sand and stepping into the grate, she spoke the Tonks name and shot out in a vibrant green spark, landing in their living room a moment later.