“Good Lord, Lily, are you that obsessed with making a three hundred in that class? Give it a break!”
“I don’t want to make a fool out of myself, and besides, this is interesting. Did you know that dryads were over fifteen feet tall originally, and that their hair type changes with every season?”
Sirius nodded. “I knew the last part. Dorvan has leaf-type things in her hair.”
“Oh, really?” Lily peered at the teacher’s table. “I didn’t notice that!”
Eva laughed. “What kind of tree do you think she is?”
“I don’t know. I’m about to find out.” Lily flipped a page, running her finger down the indents.
“Either an oak, a beech, a chestnut, or a pine. I’m inclined to cut the oak out, though, because they’re mostly male.”
James pointed at the page. “She’s also half-human, and look here—“ His finger traveled to a picture of a twig—“This isn’t what her fingers look like. They’re more sturdy.”
Lily nodded. “So she isn’t half-beech or oak.”
“Right. I’d say she’s a pine, as a matter of fact.”
Lily twisted in her seat so she could stare at him. “Why that?”
James pointed at the teacher’s table. “Look. She’s really stately; she’s got long, dark hair—sorta needly. Can’t you see that?”
Lily nodded, slowly. “Now I can.” She could, too. The green robes of the welcoming feast had been changed to solid black, with a sort of shimmery shine to them. She couldn’t think of how she had missed the resemblance to the pine tree Lily’s mother had planted in her backyard.
The bell rang, and everyone, especially the Gryffindor fifth years, rushed to class. They were all in their seats by the time the bell rang, and when Professor Dorvan drifted in and shut the door softly, even James and Sirius had, for once, shut their mouths. With a sort of husky, deep, windy, rustling voice, their teacher began to speak as she seated herself on the edge of her desk. Just now Lily realized how tall she was; even sitting down, one could see her height. Liquid black eyes gleamed with an excitement on either side of an average nose; a practical mouth with a hint of a smile to it fastened her cheeks together. Her hair was pulled into a loose side ponytail to the side, and several branches of hair fell into her face and covered her ears.
“I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year; hopefully for several years, if I fulfill my duty. I am not your average professor; I was born in the Forbidden Forest—“ here Lily caught James and Sirius exchange delighted glances—“and know the habits and fears of almost every creature there. I will not be requiring you to do much bookwork; I shall be teaching you many practical things.” She cleared her throat. “Please get out your wands.”
They did so, still quietly. Her voice, soft yet hard, low yet overpowering, had the ability to keep a class quiet without an effort on her part.
“I suppose you all know I am a half-dryad. And if you know that, I assume you also know that, when angered, dryads can be the most dangerous creature this Earth can hold.” She went on to explain the scientific reasons behind the unnatural madness dryads were capable of, the reasons why they could not easily be overcome, and the spell that could hold an enraged dryad at bay.
“I shall be asking you to test this on me. Please, now—wands out, and repeat after me.” They obeyed. “Flueroticis Dranyada Muerotnics Pourtyen.”
They stared at her; she had pronounced these words with a mixture of a German, French, and Russian accent, which seemed almost impossible for them to imitate. She repeated her words, slowly this time.
“Flueroticis Dranyada Muerotnics Pourtyen.”
This time the class responded. “Flueroticis Dranyada Muerotnics Pourtyen.”
“Excellent.” She clapped her hands lightly, and her sleeves fell from her arms, exposing bark-like skin. “Someone, now, come up here. I just want you to concentrate on what you’re saying.” Her eyes roved over the crowd. “Miss Evans, come here, please?”
Lily stepped forward, sweaty palms grasping her wand. As forewarned, Professor Dorvan’s eyes slitted in anger, her hands raised in branch-like clawing motions, and as she dashed for Lily, the class all gave a stifled gasp.
Lily held her wand up, not shaking, though she dearly wanted to. As if on impulse, without any nudging from her brain, the words broke forth from her throat.
“Flueroticis Dranyada Muerotnics Pourtyen!”
Immediately, the half-dryad was frozen in position; she stopped as something began curling about her feet. The class drew back as a smoky twirls gathered around their teacher’s feet, then, transforming quickly to brambles, she was entwined in vines and tangles. It lasted for a minutes; then it dissolved. Lily had let her wand fall.
Professor Dorvan straightened up, clapping lightly. “Excellent! Wonderful! Anyone else care to try?”
With an effort, Lily pulled her joints into working positions. “I’ll pass.”
The dryad laughed woodily as she pulled Peter up to the front. “Come on, dear, your turn!”
Peter went a sort of nervous green. “I don’t have a very good foreign accent.”
Lily laughed, too. Only hers didn’t sound as if she were locked in a thicket; it had more scorn to it. “Well, you can pronounce Latin stuff, can’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on! What language do you think Petrifocus Totalus is?”
“Uhh…jibber?”
“Latin, you dope. Come on.”
“All right.” He rolled up his sleeves and brandished his wand as Lily deftly stepped out of the way and Professor Dorvan rushed at him.
It all would have gone well, Lily later reflected, if Peter hadn’t insisted on standing there, frozen in the most idiotic position you could ever not wish to be seen in. The summary of it was that he got attacked by an enraged tree that almost strangled him with its branches before Sirius, James, and Lily jumped for their wands. Professor Dorvan was thrown off, and as she hung onto her desk, shaking a bit, she wasted no time in giving Peter detention.
“When I tell you to curse me, do it! I can’t control myself when I get angry; I told you that! No dryad can! You could have been killed! Two weeks’ detention, Mr. Pettigrew!” James, Sirius, and Lily were slinking into their seats, and the rest of the class was trying to hide behind opened books. “Don’t ever disobey me again! Who knows what could happen if you ever land in the Forbidden Forest and don’t know this spell—I could lose my job!”
The class tried hard not to laugh at this, but it couldn’t be helped. The bell rang, leaving everyone trooping off to second period in a much more comfortable mood than they had been earlier. Though Divination was next, they managed to get through it without receiving any major injuries; i.e.: falling off of their chairs and cracking their skulls open on the table because of intense drowsiness.
That weekend, the whole common room was practically deserted except for Lily, Amanda, and several other Muggle-borns that hadn’t the slightest interest whatsoever in Quidditch. They had settled themselves on the rug in front of the fire, taking a dreary sort of pleasure in the empty common room, which, for once, was free of noisy explosions and sparks but full of the whiplash sound of rain lashing the windowpanes. The cheerful chatter of the girls, telling each other about their summers and their first days back, was almost drowning it out, but not quite, which was nice, for the noise of the rain that couldn’t come in was a satisfying sound; it made them feel rather safe and warm. Which they were, as a matter of fact.
Amanda dealt the Exploding Snap cards for the fifth time, yawning a bit. “Lily?”
“Hum?”
“Don’t you wish we could have gone?”
“Nope.” Lily shook her head. “Quidditch is all right, but it isn’t my dream sport.”
“I know that, Miss Fencer.”
“You should. WATCH OUT!”
The warning came too late. A faceful of smoke and singeing sparks had hit Amanda full in the face.
“Oh, wonderful. Isn’t this great?”
Lily shrugged. “Go wash your face. I’ll get Minky to get us some hot chocolate.”
“No coffee?”
“You obviously haven’t asked Minky to bring up coffee yet, have you?”
“No; why?”
Lily scrunched up her voice in a high and crinkly imitation of the small house-elf. “Miss is too, too kind to wish Minky to do a service for miss, but Minky has heard from several reliable sources that coffee is bad for miss! Will stunt miss’ growth and stain miss’ teeth!”
Amanda laughed, but Lily only shrugged again. “I swear; that’s her voice. She will go on for hours like that.”
That afternoon, Amanda was in her dormitory, trying to rest; the other Gryffindors were either sleeping, wandering aimlessly around Hogwarts, or playing chess in the common room. Lily was in her dormitory, toying with the idea of the Alendoren Cove.
She hadn’t been there in ages, she told herself, and she missed Svordsja and Litharelen, and of course Tom. It was perfect, just perfect…but was this even allowed at Hogwarts? This continual vanishing and and and….Sighing loudly, Lily kicked her covers aside and opened her jewelry box, pulling out the flashing gold and midnight blue necklace. She fastened the chain around her neck, grasped the pendant in her left hand, and hit it against the bureau.
With a small thump, Lily landed on all fours in the familiar white, glittering sand of the Alendoren Cove. She shook the sand and hair out of her ears—something was wrong. Then she knew.
The Alendoren Cove was usually the most peaceful place she had ever encountered, with the sun glittering on the waves and a lazy elf-nymph usually flopping onto a stone, or moonlight bathing the beach in a silver glow; there was hardly any noise. But now—now—now—
The cracks around her were splitting the air. Streams of light were disfiguring the sky, unnaturally dark at this hour. Yells and screams echoing through the whirling sands were cutting into her head, and it was only when a large something flew just over her head and exploded right behind her that she thought she’d better get under cover.
From the cliff she’d dashed behind, she had a view of everything that was going on. It confirmed her worst suspicions. It was nothing more or less than a battle.
Lily recognized a small army fighting desperately, which included Tom, Macnair, Avery, Nott, and several others she’d seen in the cave with Tom several times. And against them an army of wizards in dark green robes were fighting, blasting, injuring, killing. And there—Lily saw a tall silvery figure dash into view. Litharelen. Mounted on Svordsja and armed with her wand, she managed effectively to trample several while cursing others. And Svordsja, Lily saw, was a wonderful ally in battle. It was the most painful thing anyone could imagine to get speared on her horns, and about ten had found that out already. It was easy to see now that Litharelen was an expert horsewoman. Though Svordsja reared, trampled, galloped, and jumped too many times to count, Litharelen never slipped an inch from the pentacorn’s back. It was amazing, Lily thought. All around Litharelen and Svordsja, a mass of dark green and black were clashing, and this streak of silver was fearlessly fighting and rearing. Lily was moving forward slowly, out of the safety of the cliff. She was closer to the battle now; once she flinched as a streak of fire landed on the ground next to her crouching figure.
Keeping her eyes on her friends, Lily watched. It was breathtaking to see the utter courage and casualness Litharelen displayed as she threw four opponents to the ground, stunned, and then was ready to take on five more.
Lily smiled. “Note to self. Never anger an elf-nymph.”
Or a pentacorn. Someone had hit Svordsja in the flank with a spell that left a large gash along her side, and, with a terrible scream that cleft the dusty air into millions of tiny pieces, she fell over, pinning Litharelen underneath her. The Ministry lost no time.
By the time Tom had realized what had happened and had fought his way over to Litharelen’s side, her skull had a deep gash in it and her arm was broken; her chest was slowly developing a large bruise. With panic in his eyes, he took his stance right over Litharelen, enraged and infuriated, daring every Ministry wizard to come at him. Which they did.
Lily could see that the Ministry was well organized; they had swept most of Tom’s followers to his left and held them there, fighting, while Tom was being slowly encircled by at least thirty wizards in dark green. And as a cut across Tom’s chest started to bleed profusely, they started attacking even more vigorously.
Without consulting her common sense, she slipped to the body of a fallen Ministry member and pulled his wand out from his grasp. With a deep breath, she moved forward into the circle of death, trying desperately to push aside the fact that she was only a fourteen-year-old child.
The Ministry was puzzled, not to say astonished, when from one area in the circle their men started to fall, lying rigidly on the ground with only their eyes moving. In an instant, before they had time to regroup, Lily had slid through and had knelt over Litharelen, who was weakly trying to get up. Tom whirled at Lily’s light touch on his sleeve. For that instant, he forgot how young and inexperienced she was; all he saw was a faithful ally.
“Lily! Thank God! Listen, you’ve got to help me!”
Lily shook her hair back. “That’s what I came to do.”
Tom shot a few bolts of blue light towards three attackers, who immediately ceased to be attackers. Then, with a large effort, he managed to get Svordsja to her feet.
“You’ve got to get Lith out of here.”
Lily had already slipped cool hands under the elf-nymph’s body. “Where to?”
Litharelen groaned slightly as Tom placed her on top of the pentacorn’s back. “There’s a mountain range over there. Go to the nearest valley you can find, hidden, if possible, from anyone over here, and set her off.”
Lily swung her foot over Svordsja’s back, and next instant, she was mounted, and gave a curt nod.
“See you, then.” Without waiting for a response from him, she turned Svordsja around, and, digging her heels viciously into the pentacorn’s side, managed to gallop through the re-forming ring of Ministry wizards. She was heading, without further ado, for the blueish-gray mountain range in the distance.
Back on the sand, surrounded by his enemies, Tom smiled mockingly.
“Well then, who’s next?”
Lily thundered over the plains, dodging overhanging tree branches and trying her best to keep her seat while ripping large parts of her black Hogwarts robes to pieces, trying to bind up the pentacorn’s wound, and by the time they reached the mountains, it had stopped bleeding and leaving a trail. Keen eyes searched for a safe place to hide, and within seconds, Lily had swerved to a stop underneath an overhanging cliff. Gently, she unloaded Litharelen and pulled her onto a somewhat mossy piece of earth.
Svordsja was fine; at least for the moment. There was a pool on the end of the cave, and she slowly dragged herself over to it. Dusty, wounded, and tired, the pentacorn let her head fall onto her front legs as she sank to the ground.
Frowning, Lily bent over the hardly breathing figure, once the tall, stately, and somewhat scornful elf-nymph. The broken arm was somewhat easier to set to temporary rights; there were some branches in a corner. Lily managed to weave a makeshift sling out of some long plants and what was left of her robes, bending the arm and putting it out of the way, for the moment. There was nothing she could do for the bruise on the elf-nymph’s ribs; all she could do was tear a piece of black cloth away from the sling and soak it in the cool water, bathing the bruise with it. Then she turned to the gash on Litharelen’s skull.
It was terrible to look at. Dark red blood had stained her hair and matted the silver threads to her head, besides covering most of her left side. Lily gently washed away the blood; then, she took a closer look at the cut.
At least three inches long, it ran from close to her eye to right below her ear. Half an inch wide, it gaped open horribly, and every so often, Litharelen would convulse in a spasm of pain. Lily sat back on her heels.
She had looked at the diagram of the elf-nymph in the back of her new Anatomy book, and she was pretty certain that she knew at least the basics. There was a small vein that ran just along that line where Litharelen had been cut, and Lily only hoped to goodness it had not been severed. If it had, Litharelen had no hope; not even magic could heal that wound.
Lily unhooked her necklace and removed the stone, tucking it far into a pocket. The claws of the pendant weren’t ideal for this purpose, but they were adequate. Lily was putting the delicate vein back into place when Tom appeared at the entrance of their shelter.
“Lily! Is she all right?”
”Don’t bother me.”
“Fine, fine. You know what you’re doing?”
“Would you?”
“Absolutely not.” Tom shook his head. “Never studied that.”
“Hrmph.” Lily frowned. “I’ll be doing this solo, then. Keep watch at the door, and for God’s sake hand me that extra pair of robes you’re wearing. And your knife.”
Tom complied, shooting a worried glance at Litharelen. As soon as he had vanished, however, Lily set to work frenziedly, cutting away chunks of the matted silver hair that was in danger of getting into the wound.
Then the more delicate work began; stitching up the gash with a makeshift needle. Lily made an note to herself never to go around without a needle in her pocket; using a homemade bone needle was terribly inconvenient.
It was dusky outside before Lily called Tom back in. She had meanwhile sent a jet of blue fire onto kindling leaves, and it was warmer inside, which was good, as the chilly night air started to set in. Tom entered, bending so as not to hit his head on rocks protruding from the ceiling. He made his silent way over to Litharelen, who was breathing more calmly now, and not so roughly.
“Is she all right?”
Lily nodded, though it was useless; he couldn’t see her. “She’ll be all right. It isn’t too serious—well, it isn’t now.”
Tom nodded distractedly, letting out a large sigh of relief. He knelt down next to the motionless form on the bed, kissing her brow lightly, then taking her hand in his and sitting down next to her, his forehead pressed against her cold palm.
Quietly, Lily withdrew, replaced the stone in the golden claws, and returned to Hogwarts, slamming into the bed with a breath-taking thump.
She lay there, stunned, for a few minutes, and then sat up, holding her head between her two palms, shaken and rather terrified. It had just sunk in that she had been in the middle of a battle—that she had been helping the same person that had lied to her, and that she also had performed a complicated bit of surgery, and the patient was still alive. Exhausted, Lily closed her eyes as she sank onto her pillow, murmuring a few words before she fell asleep.
“Thank the Lord for that Anatomy class.”
The next day, she slept all through breakfast and lunch, and only left her bed and her book to change the torn and ripped black school robes for some clean, non-bedraggled ones and to take a long, cold bath in the prefect’s bathroom, which she liked much better, as not that many people used it. But for safety’s sake, she had donned her bathing suit.
That evening, Lily had just stepped out of the bathtub and into had nightgown when the rest of the school came back from the Quidditch game. Although she wasn’t the greatest admirer of that game, she nevertheless besieged the spectators with questions. Joining Amanda in front of the fire, where she’d cornered James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, they soon got all they wanted to hear and more.
James was one of the most excited. “You should have seen the third Wronski Feint! Whistler, that Italian Seeker, got three inches over the ground before he swerved back up! I could never have done that!”
Sirius slapped him on the shoulder. “Of course not; he’s been playing Quidditch for ages. I liked the Japanese mascots, though.”
Remus, Eva, and James all burst into snorts of laughter. Loud snorts. They lasted for a good five minutes, and then they only stopped because Lily and Amanda were tugging at their robes, asking what on earth was so funny.
James snorted an extra time for good measure. “They brought veelas. Except, of course, they were the Japanese kinds, not the Bulgarian, and they were wearing all sorts of ceremonial costumes and things. Sirius here jumped off the Top Box, right down onto the field.”
That set them off again.
When everyone had sufficiently calmed down, Lily asked something no one had answered yet.
“So, who won?”
They all stared at her. “You mean we didn’t tell you? They’re still at it. Score was one hundred to three fifty when we left.”
“Oh.” Lily’s surprise must have been evident. “Isn’t there a limit as to how long these things can last?”
“Nope.” James shook his head. “Not as long as the Snitch isn’t caught. I hope this one breaks the record!”
“Oh, that’d be neat!” Remus had joined in.
James immediately turned to him. “Remus, old friend, ten Galleons on three months?”
“You’re on!”
That night, Lily was tossing and turning restlessly. She’d woken up so late that morning that she wasn’t tired at all, and finally she swung her feet out of bed, flung her cloak around her shoulders (it was a bit cold, for once), picked up The Grapes of Wrath, and flitted down to the common room. But when she was coming down the shadowy dormitory corridor, she heard muffled footsteps and immediately shrank back into the cold marble walls.
“Get off! You’re pushing again!”
“I’m sorry!”
“You’d better be! I’m getting sick of this! And you’re getting out once we’re in the library.”
“Why?” This last remark was one of the most aggravating whines one could ever hope to avoid, and therefore, Lily had no doubt it came from Peter Pettigrew.
“Because it’s just a bit hard to look for a book with four people under a cloak.”
“James, will you shut up?”
“Don’t tell me he’s not annoying you!”
“He is, but don’t kick up that much of a fuss over it!”
“Fine then.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
Remus’ tired voice seeped into the sagging cushions of the common room furniture. “Will both of you just shut up?”
Lily could imagine the somewhat shamefaced expressions on James’ and Sirius’ faces. “All right, Moony, old pal.”
“Moony?” Remus was faintly surprised.
“Yeah. You’re Moony now. Come on; we’ve got to get down there.”
They suited the action to the word; the portrait creaked noisily as they opened it and swished off. Losing no time, Lily followed, her book lying forgotten on a table.
They pulled off the cloak once they were in the library, making their silent way for Madam Pince’s office. James pulled out his wand.
“Alohomora!”
Something inside the door clicked, but it didn’t swing open. Exasperated, James pulled something from his pocket, pushed it inside the lock, and twisted it a few times. When he pulled the door open, they all turned towards each other and grinned.
“Who knows, Pince could be more related to Muggles than we guessed!”
“Why couldn’t we open it with magic, but you could with a Muggle method?”
James shrugged. “Search me. Come on; let’s go!” They vanished inside the office, and soon they emerged, Sirius holding a book in his hands.
“Look! The Complete Guide to Animagi Transformations!”
Remus grinned. “Wonderful job, old buddy, old pal. Come on; let’s get out of here.”
“Why so?” James had a mischievous grin on his face. “Just think of the stuff we could find out!”
Just then, Madam Pince walked sleepily into the library, in an olive dressing gown and slippers. The boys and Lily ducked.
“On second thought,” James whispered, “maybe we should leave.”
They did, too. They didn’t lose an instant before leaving the library and stowing the book away in Remus’ trunk, and, vaguely disappointed that nothing else had happened, Lily regained her bed. She comforted herself, however, with the promise of some wonderfully interesting possible blackmail adventures to come.
Monday morning the Great Hall was filled with nothing but Quidditch chatter as the plates filled and the daily mail and random newspapers were delivered. Even Lily was starting to get swept up in the excitement of it as they left the Great Hall for their first class.
No one was quite used to seeing Professor Binns enter the room through the blackboard yet, and several people were still letting out odd little screams whenever he did it. It was unnerving, seeing the ghost of your teacher glide through an apparently solid blackboard, pick up transparent pieces of parchment, and drone on about the Civil War of 1243 among the Bohemian something-or-others or the assassination of the Duke of Hogsmeade in the year 948. It was something you had to get used to, but it was hard to do. Still, the students were adjusting relatively well, and they had overcome their disappointment when Professor Dumbledore refused to insist that Professor Binns retire. The whole week was filled with bets of Italy against Japan, including how long the match would last. The school was tentative for the week till they received the news that the game was still going on Friday night. No one waited for Saturday morning. By unanimous vote, the Quidditch fans left Friday evening.
Lily and Amanda were stuck at Hogwarts again, doing absolutely nothing. Even Amanda had finished her homework by Saturday, and Sunday was a terribly boring day for them. Lily had meanwhile developed different ways for her chessmen to kill pawns; one being to jump on them till the were flattened, another to run spears or swords through their necks, hearts, heads, or torso area, depending on the piece, doing a few karate moves and strangling the piece with its own collar, and, of course, plinking it off of the board, plinking being snapping one’s fingers right behind the chess piece and watch it rocket off of the board. Lily reserved that special privilege for herself and the Queen, who could do the same thing with her scepter and a borrowed sword.
When Lily had plinked the last of Amanda’s pawns off of the board and watched her knight flatten the opposing queen, her friend was starting to get more than sleepy.
“Lily, can we wrap this up for today?”
“Why?”
“My head’s starting to hurt.”
“You haven’t been doing a thing!”
“Exactly. I’m exhausted.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “All right then. I’m going outside.”
Amanda gestured lazily towards the sheets of rain hitting the windowpane. “Lily, in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve got the Hogwartian Ocean forming outside.”
Lily looked. “I didn’t notice. That should tell you something.”
“It does. You’re mentally deranged.”
”Besides that.”
“I’m going to bed. Have fun getting drenched.”
Lily smiled as Amanda stood up. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“I haven’t. Good night.”
“Good night,” Lily echoed, but Amanda was already out of the room. Lily shifted a bit on the armchair, and the cold weight of the necklace touched her skin.
“Should I,” she whispered to herself. “Should I?”
It took several minutes for her to decide, but she finally gave up and pulled the necklace out. “If I die in a battle, everyone on this earth and beyond may reserve the right to say: ‘I told you so.’” She hit the necklace against the wooden parts of the armchair, and busied herself with trying not to hurl as she was flung through the darkness again.
She landed in the Alendoren Cove with a somewhat softer thump this time. She sniffed the air, glanced hurriedly around, and noticed, to her relief, that this time the inlet was quiet, with no ear-splitting screams or cracks. Lily made her way quietly to the cave she had met Tom in the last times. He was there, as was Litharelen, with her arm still in the sling, both of them smiling at each other over Svordsja’s back,; they were tending her flank with some sort of ointment.
Lily harrumphed loudly, and both of them jumped up. Litharelen’s smile stretched all over her delighted face.
“Lily! Oh, my goodness!” She raced for the redhead standing in the cave’s door. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you did!” She hugged her tightly, letting go when Lily started to exaggerate a choking sound. “I’m sorry. But really—I would have died—and so would Svordsja—if it hadn’t been for you. I don’t know how to thank you!” She hugged Lily again, and when she pulled away, the glint of something on her left ring finger caught Lily’s eye.
“Lith, let me see that!” She took the elf-nymph’s hand in hers, and smiled as the delicate entwine of silver thread with a dark green emerald in the middle caught the light.
“Lith! Who—“ She stopped as Tom looked up at Litharelen with a faint blush on his cheeks. “Really? Oh, I’m so happy for both of you!” She hugged Litharelen and Tom. “When’s the wedding?”
Tom shrugged. “I don’t know…I guess we’re just going to be engaged for the time being.”
Lily smiled again. “Well, send me an owl when you’ve fixed the date. “I want to be there!”
Litharelen blushed. “I will!”
Lily came back to Hogwarts when the moon was rising outside. She quickly slipped into her bed, smiling as she thought of Litharelen and Tom’s happy faces as they told her the news.
