Did I ever tell you I have a thing for brunettes?

Lily Luna Potter was like the ballerina trapped in a music box, determined by fault of chance to pirouette every time a wandering hand fell on the lid. It seemed as though too many people had fallen over it in the past, drawn her up, demanded her to dance. In the end she got weary, the music no longer played and the ballerina wouldn’t dance anymore regardless of how many times it was wound up by the brass latch at the side. She needed to stay in her box for a while. She needed someone to be there, to let her come out, dislodge her legs from her podium and dance to her own tune. Books wouldn’t be the key, but they’d be a start. A friend would be a start.

“Would you like me to bring them over tomorrow?” He inquired, lightly. “Or if you’re busy tomorrow, the next day?”

Stewart didn’t think that Lily would be busy the following day. The penchant for remaining in her room, reading, was one which suggested she didn’t get up to much outside of those two activities and thus Stewart knew he could probably give the books tomorrow and stay long enough for a cup of tea. However, he knew better than to press. His grandfather had done the same when he had refused to talk to anyone in the wake of his grandmother’s death. Stewart had known the need to do nothing, expressed a need not to see anyone. Only Ezra had taken that desire for solitude from him, replacing it with the desire to be cared for, to be loved. Then, after setting him on his feet again, he left, Stewart able to live of his own accord.

“I should probably make a move soon,” Stewart mumbled, a sad look alighting on his face.

He had to go eventually, he knew. He couldn’t become a resident of the bedroom, also. No, he had to exist outside of it just like Lily would eventually have to. He had to go home – he had a dependent after all, even if Caravaggio was fairly self-sufficient. He also had a dinner date that evening, though, one that would ensure he got a few more sales before the summertime came. At least then it would tide him over until the autumn when he’d need a bit more money and enough paintings to get it. For now, though, he was tempted to start sculpting again – though who or what he’d do he had no idea. All he knew was he wanted to do it for himself this time. Not for cash.

“I have a deadline,” he groaned, rubbing his hand across his face, realising what he’d long forgotten. It was due tomorrow. Which meant he’d be up all night, no doubt. “For Merlin’s sake,” he grumbled, sitting up a little. He needed to get a better cover job, he decided resolutely. Something that required a lot less work than the Daily Prophet demanded of him.

Stewart turned his head towards Lily, “You going to be alright, Lils?” He asked.

The idea of company. The promise of company. It was not a guarantee, but the only guaranteed company she had was her meek godbrother and her estranged blood brothers, worried about the fluffiness of her pillows rather than the fluffiness of her soul. The idea that tomorrow would bring more than soup and vague comments about the weather was more pleasant that she would have expected it to be. She remained in her position, bringing the bottle of firewhiskey to her chin, resting the mouth of it against her pale skin.

Finally, she turned to Stewart. “I’m sure I can work you into tomorrow’s busy schedule.” Her lips twitched. She was making jokes, like she had when she was young. Teddy had always been more of a lame dad joke kind of guy, Albus had never been a joke teller, and very little out of James’ mouth had ever been true. She had found she was the Potter to make the jokes that were universally appealing in the household. It was nice to have a sliver of her humor back.

He announced his need to leave and she found, with a bit of a surprise, that she did not want him to go. He sounded reluctant as well, but it was probably for reasons of obligations he did not want to face. Lily reached for an obligation of her own to even the score but, with the exception of dinner, she had nothing left for her for the evening. So, instead of expressing the former sentiment or conjuring her own excuse, she took another sip of the Firewhiskey. There. That was what she had to attend to.

He confirmed the obligations and Lily reached her arm out, catching the cork of the Firewhiskey bottle between her fingers, corking it and resting the bottle on her torso, the neck of the bottle resting on her chest, her chin resting atop the corked end, eyes closed. A deadline. She should give herself deadlines. By the end of June, only half the day in the room. By the end of July, outings. By the end of August, ready for school again. She wondered if this new found determination would stay once Stewart left. She could not tell – she had not been in this position in awhile.

She felt the bed move and Stewart spoke. Her eyelids slid open and she looked at him. Stewart Harding, here with her, in her room, even though the task had been to bring word from the Headmistress. Why had he stayed? Why had she painted with him? How had he managed to get her to speak? To get her to look forward to another day, when usually the thought of existence continuing wearied her? She did not know, but she intended on finding out. She did not answer his question, because she wasn’t sure. She had her own question that needed answering instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It was disconcerting to think that when Stewart reopened the door of his flat he would be greeted by a nonsensical mew from his animal and a pile of paperwork to sift through which would eventually lead to him getting his news story out on time. A brawl between two Quidditch WAGs hardly counted as news but nevertheless it was a task he was set and, determined to complete it, he knew that he had to leave the Potter household sooner rather than later since he doubted very highly that he would be able to forfeit column inches and still have a job at the end of the month. It just wasn’t going to happen, regardless of however much Stewart wanted to stay and slack off.

Besides, given that he had so calmly lectured Lily, he really did have to lead by example and that meant going back to work just as she’d have to go back to school.

Stewart turned his head at her words, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at her. He chuckled and shifted a little, lowering his feet to the floor and pushing up. In a way that made him feel as though he was being turned out from a lover’s bed having to find his things from the floor in the small hours in little light, Stewart bent down and picked up his jacket, sliding his arms into it. His feet went into his shoes and he smiled at Lily gently as he readjusted his shirt collar.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said with a slight incline of his head. “Promise.”

Then, with that said, Stewart moved over to the window and the same way he came in he came out, sliding down the drainpipe until his feet crunched into the gravel. When he turned around, however, the word busted flicked through his head. Swallowing a witty remark, Stewart raised a smile to his lips at the sight of a vaguely familiar man who he thought must have been attached to the Potters.

“Lovely weather,” he commented glibly instead.

He slid off the bed and she figured she could at least sit up to see him off. She had ben laying as though she were incapable of anything else for the majority of their conversation, and she thought she could at least prove she was able to do something beyond that, that her skills sets expanded beyond devouring books and keeping a great acquaintanceship between her stomach and the floor, her back and her bed. As he gathered his things, she scooted forward to the edge of her bed, one leg dangling off the edge while the other curled next to her, the bottle of Firewhiskey resting in the crook of her leg.

He promised and her bottom lip gently lifted the top, before the pair of reds turned sideways. A small breath lifted her chest and shoulders, before dropping them, seemingly amused to have been given a promise - amused because she would have never guessed she would not only be getting company she enjoyed, but company intent on returning. She raised an arm, her hand lolling back on her wrist as though it were heavy, and she moved the hand left and right as he disappeared out the window.

Teddy was typically prompt in visiting his godsister, because he was intent on getting her rehabilitated in time for her to return to school. Plenty of his cases at work required he help teens Lily's age deal with addictions and depression so that they could contnue to work towards their future. His success stories seemed to be no match for Lily, who just wasn't being inspired by anything he said. He could barely get her to eat, let alone forego sneaking cigarettes and drinks. He was bringing her a wizard's chess set he had uncovered in his own apartment, hoping it might give her something to do.

As he approached, however, he immediately regretted the decision to leave her at all. It seemed no one was home, except for Lily of course, and there was a man crawling out of her window. Teddy stopped in his tracks as the man turned around. A brief look of surprise flickered on the man's face, before being replaced by a smile. The man was gone without so much as a handshake and Teddy stood there, blinking in surprise.

"Lily?!"

The panicked cry reached the dark-haired girl in her room. She heaved a sigh and pushed herself off of the bed, picking up the towel on the ground and shoving it in the hamper. She had just grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey when Teddy was opening her door, a prepared flinch on his face. His cheeks were pink - apparently he had run.

"Who was that?" he panted. "What was he doing here? Is that Firewhiskey?" Lily scoffed and put the bottle under her bed, turning to look at Teddy who had no intention of ending the interrogation. "Why did he come in through the window? What's that on your ceiling?"

Lily stepped towards her godbrother, spotting the chess set in his hands. "For me?"

Teddy's head wobbled. "Is he coming back? Why was he here? Do you know him? Where from?"

Lily gently took the set from his hands, and grabbed the doorknob on her door. "I'm hungry. Could you send up dinner? Thank you." She closed the door, forcing the meek man to back up lest the door squish his nose.

Teddy stared at the door for a long moment, gathering all of the parenting he had learned at such a young age. "Lily, this isn't okay!"

The faint reply came quickly. "I'll consider myself grounded - won't leave my room for a month."

Teddy dropped his head in defeat, shuffling off to make Lily something to eat. He should have stayed at work.