Leave me alone.

Alexander considered the theory Lily had shared. It was something that sounded like it made sense. “Sounds interesting.” He nodded in agreement, “like smashing some items instead of chopping.”
He was still angry about what had happened just before running into Lily, but it was nice having someone to talk to. All he really wanted was a friend, which was hard to find when you were never able to interact with people your own age, or weren’t being paid to be around you.
Lily agreed to work on a potion with him, then walked off. Alex looked over his shoulder toward Lupin’s classroom before following Lily.
Alex wondered what the professor would say seeing him talk to another female student after the conversation they had just concluded.

They slipped into a comfortable silence as they walked the rest of the way to the dungeons, a path that had become incredibly familiar to Lily. She'd always been one of the quieter Potter siblings, maybe even moreso than Albus. He didn't speak up often but when he did getting him to stop wasn't easy. Lily had never been the one to divulge first.

But she was also starting to feel that itch, the pain potions begging to course through her veins. As they jogged down the final stairs to the dungeons, she let out a long, deliberate stream of air through her lips, trying to distract from the urge. But that could only help so much.

"Maybe doing some extra work will get you off the hook with whatever happened," Lily suggested, trying to get her mind off her addiction as they pushed into the student storeroom to gather their ingredients.

Ha. Alex thought practicing potions didn’t seem like something that would pacify Lupin. “I don’t think so.” He muttered helping Lily gather ingredients, “Lupin wasn’t exactly happy. Weeks detention, and he mentioned getting my parents involved.” He shook his head picking up a vile and peering into it to see if it was the ingredient he was looking for. “Not like they’d bother to show. Dad doing whatever it is he does, and Mum off enjoying the spoils of his work. Haven’t seen them since June.” The bitterness in the boys voice was evident as he spoke. He had made his own way to the Hogwarts express that year. Thinking about how long it had been since he had seen his parents bringing up the memories of watching his fellow students saying good-bye there. Anger boiling up inside of him again.
“Your mom was on the Holyhead Harpies, right?” He asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Lily didn't stop moving and she didn't look his way. She liked to think her way through these things. She'd been around family turmoil for so long, it was almost comfortable to slip back into it. Watching her elder brothers go through their own phases where they acted out, pulled away. And then her mother, and all of the instability her descent into semi-madness had wrought on them, especially as Teddy, James, and Albus moved out. She'd made it a month before Teddy came to Ginny with a lie about a lease that had fallen through, moving back in. He never admitted it was a lie, but Lily knew. It was the kind of thing Teddy would do.

Her love for her adopted father had caused her conflict with her peers before. It wasn't quite a teacher's pet situation but close, always a suspicion she would tell. She, of course, wouldn't, and Teddy tried not to ask, but the suspicion remained. It was a motivating factor behind many of the beliefs that she would become prefect.

How wrong they had been on that note.

They'd reached the potions room. She tapped the doorknob and slipped inside, leading the way towards the student stockroom. She gave him a sidelong glanced and caught the anger. He obviously had a lot to say but conflict-adverse Lily would rather not encourage his rage to spiral.

She started to pick out her ingredients, sliding them onto a cutting board. "Yeah, she was," Lily said, her voice a little too casual. She didn't like talking about her mother, nor her family really. "She was pretty good too. Decent score record." Lily paused, pointing out an ingredient slightly out of reach. "Could you grab that?"

Alex trailed behind Lily in silence, the weight of his troubles heavy on his mind. He was grateful when the girl took the bait and changed the subject, steering the conversation away from his family issues. "Yes, she did," he replied, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. "Their seeker isn't bad either."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as they discussed the Quidditch team, a welcome distraction from his problems. Lily requested an ingredient that was nearby, and Alex obliged, handing it to her. "Sure," he said, watching as she retrieved it. "It's one more game before they find out who plays in the next World Cup, right? Do you think they'll make it?" It was a genuine question, and for a moment, he was able to forget his troubles and focus on something he loved - the magical sport of Quidditch.

The pivot in conversation seemed to have worked to Alexander’s benefit, he immediately seemed more at ease and distracted.

Unfortunately it was at the expense of her having to talk about her mother. Talk about a Catch-22.

She took the last ingredient from him and, with all of her collected items carefully balanced on her cutting board, turned back towards the work tables. With the distraction at hand, she said briskly, “Actually I don’t keep up much with the team anymore. Not since Mum… retired.”

She wanted to say quit. It had not been a triumphant retirement but rather a forced leave after Ginny could not cope with the loss of Harry. It was almost fascinating to watch this self-composed war veteran who had always been full of fire just fizzle. Lily had been too young to appreciate just how deep her mother’s despair had been. She couldn’t quite empathize with her mother’s grief for a spouse while Lily was grieving the loss of her remaining living parent.

She set the cutting board down and busied herself with gathering a cauldron, lighting a fire, and finding the knives, mortar and pestles, and other utensils they would need. As she set about cutting up some ginger, she said, “Didn’t know you were a fan.” She offered the smallest smile as she glanced towards him, sliding him some herbs and the mortar and pestle.

***

Alex trailed after Lily once more, unsure of what else to do. As she handed him the necessary items, he set to work grinding the herbs with a sense of purpose. Trying to fill the silence, he offered, "I've always thought that the Hollyhead Harpies were the superior team." He gave a small shrug before continuing, "It was the one thing my father and I would do together. He'd take me to games during the summers, but then promptly forget about me as soon as he got the chance to talk politics with his adult friends." The memory was bittersweet, for it was the only real bonding experience he could recall having with his father throughout his fourteen years of life.

Turning his attention back to Lily, he posed a question. "Did you ever get to watch your mother play?" The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think twice, and he waited eagerly for her response, hoping to learn more about the girl standing in front of him.

As he spoke she turned her attention to the boomslang skin, the very ingredient that had prompted her sudden desire to experiment. She laid it flat and then slowly rolled it as evenly as possible, before pressing the flat side of the blade against the newly constructed tube. That done, she began slicing, curious to see if the tip she had read actually would work. They'd know at the end of their potion but for now it was still up in the air.

As she worked, careful and methodical as ever, she listened to the boy's memory. She could relate to a distracted parent. At least hers was not a case of selfishness, though she had once viewed Ginny's instability as such. It wasn't until she'd began to struggle managing her physical pain that she began to understand how unfair 'just get better' was to someone in pain.

"Parents aren't always great at realizing what we need," she said thoughtfully, carefully keeping the sentiment vague. "I think sometimes they forget that their kids don't just need food and shelter." They needed warmth, attention, love, a feeling that your parents would put everything aside for you. It sounded selfish but when you were a kid, what else did you have?

"I saw her a few times," Lily said. "My brother caught several of her best matches on some Omnioculars though. Te- A friend had charmed them so they'd store the matches so we could keep them and rewatch. There was this match against the Falmouth Falcons. They're such a violent team and Mum was such a defensive player, I don't think she was expected to do well. But she knew how to match energy. She started tailing the beaters, following right behind so it was harder to hit her, and then when she had a chance she'd zip forward, knock them off course, then do a mad dash for the Quaffle. Not only did they win, it was an incredible match."

That was the thing about being from a Quidditch player. Lily never played except at home when her brothers had demanded her participation, but she'd never had the thirst for it they had. Even so, she knew the game, and she knew it well. She could keep up better than most and typically had good instincts for how a match would shake out. It didn't surprise her how effortlessly she spoke of the match.

What did surprise her was the nostalgia welling up in her chest, pressing against her chest and forcing her heartbeat into her throat. She tried to not think about her mother and when she did it was often mixed. But she could remember her mother's triumphant face in the recording, the determination as she pressed over the broom, the wide smirk as she knocked into a Beater who was trying to beat her off with their bat. She'd been such a force. Lily might have been no great fan of Quidditch but she had been such a fan of her mother.

Merlin, she missed that version of Ginny.

She cleared her throat, hoping her wistfulness had not been noticed. "Once you get the herbs into a paste, sprinkle them in." She dropped the boomslang skin and scraped the rest of her chopped ingredients inside. "Then we're ready to raise the heat and start stirring."

Alex let out a small huff at Lily's response, "Tutors and nannies can never fully replace the role of a parent," he added in a quiet tone. Focusing back on the potion, he assisted her with diligence, measuring and adding the ingredients to the cauldron. Lily, meanwhile, was sharing stories of her mother's past matches, and Alex listened with interest. "I feel like I may have been at that one," he mused, nodding along as Lily said she was ready for the herbs.

"Now comes the fun part. The fire," Alex quipped, trying to lighten the mood as they moved towards the next stage of the potion-making process.

His comment was quiet and probably not intended for her, so she let it slide. Lily was good at secrets. She had spent her whole life keeping them. Having a famous name meant people always wanted to know more than was fair for them to know, so she'd quickly learned to crave and seek privacy when she could. More than that though, her brothers had always felt she was a safe person for their secrets, assuming she was too young to understand and too loyal to divulge. They were only correct about the latter.

It had come in handy though. Now that she had a secret of her own to maintain.

"I'll let you do the honors then," she said, laughing as she stepped back to allow him to light it. That done, she instructed, "So stir clockwise for the next minute, then a minute off, then a minute counter-clockwise." She reached out and turned the sand timer she'd thought to collect as she reached out for a shrivelfig and some knotgrass, beginning to grind them as well. "I'll put this in once you're done, then it's rinse and repeat."

As she fell back into the rhythm she mused, "This is why I like Potions. There's a rulebook to follow. Not saying you can't break or modify those rules, but it's nice to slip into a routine. You can just... let a recipe tell you what to do. It's kind of nice, not having to make a decision."