When I awoke the next morning, pain shot all though my body; my spell work from the previous night had used all of my energy. To an extent, I wanted to lie in bed for the rest of my life. I couldn’t help but to admit that I was slightly depressed. Picturing Freckles as squished mush made my stomach turn.

Finally, I gathered enough strength to kick off my covers and stumble into the kitchen. James and Remus were sitting at the table; James was drinking his coffee and reading the paper, looking very adult, and Remus was chewing on a plate of kipper and eggs.

“Oh, God,” James said when he saw me. He steered me to a chair and forced me to sit; I was weak already so it didn’t take much to have my legs buckle and collapse beneath me.

“Did you even sleep last night?” Remus asked, pushing his food towards me, trying to indicate that I should eat the remains.

“Yes,” I answered. It was the truth; I’d slept like a log through the whole night. I ignored Remus’ food. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.”

James spun my chair around and forced me to face him. “Lily, do you care about me?” he asked, very seriously.

I looked away, focusing intently on the ground.

“Answer me! Do you care about me or not?”

My eyes met his and I began to cry. “There’s no need for reminding that you’re all that matters to me, James.”

“Then you’ll realize that I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. I love you, Lily,” he whispered, and kissed me.

When he pulled away I wiped my eyes on my pajama sleeves and noticed that Remus was gone. I couldn’t help but to laugh a little. “Think we grossed him out?”

“Nah, definitely not,” James smiled. “Remus knows when I need my privacy, and he respects that. He’s a good friend. Listen, though. You’ll not worry, all right?”

It was more of a statement more than a question, but I nodded nonetheless. “Okay. I’ll work on it.”

“Good,” James kissed my forehead. “Speaking of work, aren’t you supposed to be there right now?”

I looked at the clock and jumped. “Oh, no! I’ll see you in a couple of hours!” I put on my jacket and raced to Mr. Orson’s house. I knocked fiercely on the door and it swung open almost immediately.

“Ah, Miss Evans, running a bit late today?” Mr. Orson asked. “Nice attire, though.”

I looked down and blushed; I was still in my pajamas and I hadn’t thought to put on any shoes. “Sorry, Mr. Orson, I had a late start.”

“And I suppose a light night too?” he questioned. “And how many times must I tell you? Call me Nivy.”

“Yet you call me ‘Miss Evans,’” I pointed out.

“Ah, true, true.” By now he’d had me in front of the cauldron again, and the stopwatch was in his hand. “Ready? Begin.”

And so I did; the salamander arms were added after the wicker extracts, just like always, and then I stirred twice. He’d had me memorize the potion, and it had actually come in handy; it was much easier to just go and not have to constantly refer back to the book.

When time was called I looked at him nervously. I hated this anxious feeling.

“Almost,” he said for the millionth time. “Now I’m going to do something I’ve never done in front of another person and show you what it’s like when I make the potion, and how it looks when it’s done.”

I stood off to the side and asked, “Would you like me to take the time?”

“You can if you want,” he answered simply.

I decided to.

Suddenly, he began working, and he did so smoothly; I couldn’t help but to admire him. Everything seemed to come so naturally and instinctively. I bet he could’ve done everything with his eyes open and still not mess up.

When he was done (and he finished just on time) I approached the basin and looked down. Instantly I new how it was intended to look: it was blue, but a pearly white substance was swirling around inside of it. I had the shade correct but nothing else.

I looked up at him and could only smile.