Blue skies are calling me

She had a lot of thoughts flitting in and out of her head regarding the situation unfurling before her, but she felt uncertain. She felt compromised in her thought process. She slowed her breathing and forced her thoughts onto a more rational route, considering the thoughts she was more certain of.

Lily thought about Christian. She thought about how this was a person who would do anything, anything, for someone he cared about. He had certainly extended himself for her, even though she did not deserve it. He had been a friend to her throughout her distance and her weakness, had advocated for her when she was undeniably the villain. He was a good guy, too good for this world, and this thing with Ace... it was idealism, pure and simple. It was trying to give the world what he could not give her, could not give his brother, could not give everyone he wanted to protect. It was dangerous idealism, but to rob him of that? Of that hope? She had lived like without hope. She wouldn't do it again.

No. She had her hope now. And she was scared to lose it.

Because she knew what Apollo was thinking. He wanted to let go and let Christian make his own decisions. He did not see the hope that Christian needed, he saw the danger that was inevitable to come. Because while Christian extended himself to help those he cared about, Apollo circled them, the guard dog with a watchful eye over his sheep, longing to be apart of the herd but determined to retain his teeth and stay strong for the rest. He wanted to let Christian go but that meant letting the sheep walk into a den of wolves... and how could he ever forgive himself if the sheep didn't return, even if the sheep needed to see those greener pastures. Her mind reminded her of her deep hatred for metaphors and she blinked, her mind zipping to the point. Apollo would never be okay with Christian putting himself in such a situation. He would never forgive anyone involved in that situation.

Her eyes slid closed as they argued.

She thought of her father. Her father who had put himself in the way of danger time and time again in order to preserve the safety of those he cared about. Her father who circled his herd with harsh, protective eyes and a soft heart. Her father who now had a club named after him, that didn't always live up to his name, but that's all it was. His name. It wasn't him. Nothing was him. Because he had died to save so many people. And she would never know if it was worth it. No one would. There was no answer. He would put himself in danger to help save the world, but he certainly wouldn't let his family do it. It was a nonanswer.

What does it matter? You're not your father.

Not.

Even.

Close.

Her eyes slid open and she knew she was reeled in. With Christian's expectant eyes and Apollo's bristling eyes, keen to avoid her gaze, she felt like her place was beneath the floorboard, somewhere far from here.

“I don’t know.”

Her eyes slid away from Christian to glance at Apollo, and then came back to look at Christian. She placed her hands on the table in front of her and clasped them together, shrugging. “I don’t know.” She looked between them. “I’m not the person to ask to help save the world.” She swallowed what she wanted to say, because she really wasn’t at the point where she could get away with saying it.  Maybe if I had a brother who cared as much as you guys do for each other, I would be.

But she knew an “I don’t know” was not going to suffice, for either of them. So she sighed and looked at Christian, the hesitancy and exhaustion heavy in her eyes. “Can I think about it?”

Sixteen. They were only sixteen. The whole argument was bloody insane once that part was recognized. Christian knew it. Apollo knew it. The same thing had probably occurred to Lily, Apollo decided just before he spoke.

"Neither is Christian. But Alice-"

"-Ace."

"-has somehow convinced him that they are."

Suddenly, Apollo understood something. Understood why he could barely get the words out for shaking and clenching his jaw. He was furious with both of them, now. Not just Christian for bringing it up and suggesting it. She could have said yes and been there to protect him. What good was little Ace Longbottom compared to someone as hard-edged as Lily Potter? Then again, what did Apollo really know about either of the girls?

Still, it would have meant that he could step back and entrust his brother's life to someone who would make sure to save it. It meant he could have the time he wanted - needed, lately - to pretend he wasn't a Zabini and his brother wasn't the better one. He would have time to figure out how to deal with what he was feeling before he lost it all together and up and disappeared. But she hadn't done that. She had left them out in the cold for trying to be diplomatic or whatever.

Maybe she was scared. Some Gryffindor, compared to his brother.

He knew that she had turned away, but Apollo couldn't look at either of them. It was entirely unfair of him to want what he wanted, and completely irrational because he didn't actually want the pair of them together more than they had to be. He didn't want Christian wanting her again.

Okay. So maybe it was time for a slight confession, even if only silently and to himself.

He was painfully jealous of his brother. The freedom, the courage that seemingly came from nowhere (because it definitely wasn't genetic), and the kindness that also was not at all genetic.

Worse than that, though, was the true confession that poked at him. Apollo tried to silence it, jumped over the words in his mind so it was only a half-formed thought. But he couldn't deny it, even if he couldn't say it to himself. But, reader, I'll be the brave one for him:

See, Apollo thought he loved her, too. And, actually, he didn't know precisely why. Maybe because Christian had, though that was a stupid reason. Probably - more likely - because Christian taking an interest had given Apollo a reason to notice her. And some instinctual level within him knew that he understood her in a way Christian never could. And maybe that wasn't actually the same thing as Love, but it was like he'd said. They were young. What did they really know about things like that?

So he wanted her, knew he shouldn't do, and despite trying to get what he wanted in some ways, he was more than determined not to do so in others. He had decided, actually. Her being around was actually brilliant, because it bolstered him, but it made him feel all the more guilty. Talking to Christian was supposed to fix that. Telling him was supposed to have happened. But it hadn't, it wouldn't now as far as Apollo was concerned.

So when she asked and Christian told her that, of course she could and he would've been a bit surprised if she hadn't asked to, Apollo shoved his chair back and stood without a word. He opened the palm of his hand, intent on calling his wand to him because he didn't care for a second if he got in trouble for apparating.

Instead, though, he raked a hand through his hair as he turned away, storming into his room to pick up the wand anyway and then back out, ignoring Christian's face and the way his mouth fell open. Apollo was out the door before Christian could say a word.

She could see the storm brewing and her heart sank. She knew the corner she had just been put in, seen the consequences of a decision either way. Apparently the delay was just as damning, and she could see it on his face. She wanted to be alone with him, right then. Wanted to have the freedom of honesty as she had the night she decided to venture hesitantly back into their lives. Since then, she had tried to stay strong and show the certainty of her decision, but with Christian added to mix, she saw just how difficult this was to maneuver as long as they weren't all on the same page.

And now Apollo wasn't even in the same room.

Her eyes slid closed again, and the room felt very quiet and very open with only Christian as her company. Her elbows found the table and her head sank into her hands, rubbing them. It wasn't any sort of sadness that seeped out from her, but an exhaustion, a frustration, because maybe it would have been better to leave the Zabini boys to resent and hate her. And now it was too late. She couldn't stand their hatred now.

It may not be up to you with one of them.

Her head slipped upwards, hands dragging down the sides of her face as her eyes rested on Christian.

"Might as well ask me all your questions, I know you have them."

Christian let his jaw close slowly, watching the door like it might open back up again and reveal the truth: that his brother was lost and afraid. That had to be it. Lily said something and although he heard it, he said something else before turning to her and answering.

"He needs mum."

Clearing his throat, Christian shook his head and slumped down in his seat as he turned to look at her.

"I don't think you'll want me to ask some of the ones I have," he told her bluntly, blinking tiredly. "Like whether or not you've shagged my brother."

Their food had gone untouched. She had made the effort to bring them food as an offering of good will, to show she could be useful and helpful and could contribute rather than diminish. Her food sat untouched and the boys were now completely separate.

Part of her insisted this particular issue was not her fault. But she had told Apollo she would be there for him. And here she was. Not with him. She wanted to scream after him that she was on his side, the git. But he wasn't letting her. He was boxing her out at every turn.

Her hand supported her chin as she looked at the Hufflepuff, eyelids slid half over her eyes in exhaustion, ready for a barrage of questions she was not ready to answer.

Her arm slipped out from under her chin and slammed onto the table, eyes widening as she had to sit up from keep from slamming her whole head onto the table. Her mouth tipped open and she reeled back. "Ch-Christian!" she said, and she almost had to turn around and look for her mother, the words sounding like Ginny's shocked exclamation when James uttered a curse word nonchalantly.

Her reaction didn't actually give away the answer like he had hoped it would. But he wasn't exactly as cunning as his brother. Apollo would probably end up getting everything he wanted out of this exchange, just only in hindsight. Lily definitely hadn't, and Christian probably wouldn't. And he really needed help.

He was always the one helping others; why couldn't Lily be there for him this time, after what they had done for her?

"You can't tell me that he isn't ragingly jealous right now," Christian declared, pinning her with a serious, blank sort of stare. "Either you've done something, or he wants you to. Potentially, something different has happened, but the idea of you helping me set him off. And I understand that you feel like you owe him for..." He gestures towards his chest vaguely, "you know.

"But Lily, your family just went missing. Your family was on that train. Now, unless you care more about my brother than your family, you'll help me. And either choice will be quite telling, indeed."

There was something hardened in Christian's expression now and, though she had always been pretty instinctual about which Zabini was which, she could now see how and when it might be impossible to pick them apart. Christian, usually so soft and open to the world, with the slight hesitancy that came with being mindful of others, did not usually have such a sharp gaze or a heavy brow.

She had recovered. The accusation in and of itself was not enough to shake her, as she had been accused of much worse and also guilt of much worse. But the implications, and who it was from, and what she knew of the accuser's sentiments towards the accused... yeah, it made it into a much messier deal that she thought she could handle right now.

But that wasn't an option. Not handling it. Life was tough. Get a mother f*ckin' helmet, Lily Potter.

She dropped her arms and met her gaze, her eyes returning to their usual dull, but a sparkle of a fire shone through. "Look," she said, parting her lips as she prepared. "I might know, better than anyone, how getting revolutionary save-the-world ideas can be the very thing that ruins your family." Her voice was almost a growl, daring him to say she wasn't the authority in this matter. "I didn't say I wasn't going to help you. But what happens when neither your or Ace can go to school, or cast a spell? Then you're worthless to help any of us, especially a bunch of kids that the whole bloody country can't save. You can paint any number of nasty depictions of me, but don't color me idiotic."

She had never spoken this harshly to Christian and that fact registered right then, slowing the momentum she was building. She sighed and deflated a little, reaching up to rub the beginnings of a headache from above her eyebrow. "I'm not sure what's going on with me and Apollo," she admitted, quietly. "There's something about being a werewolf and bringing someone into the fold that's- it gets complicated. And I didn't handle it well the first go round, so I'm trying to make up for lost time, to you both really, and- and... sometimes you're too late. I'm not sure if that's the case here or..."

She glanced up. "I want to make sure you do this right, if you're going to do it. But I don't know how much I can get involved. I asked for time. Can you give me that? To get everything all sorted?"

Christian narrowed his eyes at her, finally sitting forward and engaging actively rather than tossing out insults from a distance. He was about to argue again when she said she wanted to help. She needed time. Why did he feel like that time would be spent talking to or trying to console Apollo? Gross.

He wanted to be clear, though he wouldn't draw it out and make her stay when she seemed determined to leave, now, and find that time.

"Hermione Granger is helping us," he threw out. "She's going to see about adding us to the Order, and whether or not that would keep us out of trouble. Until then, we have our ways. We could use somebody else's wands, for starters. If we don't disarm them, the wand won't be ours, and it's possible that it won't trace the magic back to us. I'm looking into that."

He shrugged nonchalantly, pretending that he didn't want to stand up or shout or both. "But sure. Think about it and let me know. And try not to let Apollo change your mind, though I imagine it won't be easy."

She didn’t want to admit how important and unimportant it was that Hermione was involved. He might have assumed it had something to do with her being a relative, when in fact Lily spent most days trying to forget her relations and their respective legacies. But Lily had admired Hermione growing up, had found solace to know that being part of her family didn’t necessarily mean she had to be brave or outspoken, but that being smart was allowed as well. It was Lily had desired. So what if she wasn’t following her parents and saving the world? Hard to tell someone they were slacking when they were top of their class.

But she kept her lips pursed, because she needed time and he was still trying to convince her. And she wasn’t going to have any of it. She needed the time. And just because there was truth in his suspicions did not mean she was going to abandon her plan. She would not defy his expectations just to be defiant. She refused to let him shake her.

More than he already had, of course.

He spoke with a touch of finality, and she could feel his expectation for her to leave. Maybe she would defy one expectation.

“Noted,” she said. And she cleared her throat, picking up a pair of chopsticks. “Can you pass me the broccoli beef?” She waited patiently, before tucking into her own meal. Silence settled, before finally, “Now that it’s good and weird, how’s your past year been?”




Lily Potter waited in bed, refusing to lay down. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, sitting up straight, hands folded patiently between her knees, eyes far away. She had left the room altogether and was falling deep into thoughts, not the usual thoughts either, of Teddy and Casey, of Kit and her brothers, of wolves and potions. Nor was her mind on new thoughts of twins and revolutions, stolen wands and Ace I-Have-A-Plan Longbottom. No, a new memory had struck her that night, well after the face of her watch indicated the night was settled in.

No she was thinking about her mother, which was a strange thought, as the emotions tied up in thoughts of her mother were so complicated that they were best to be ignored entirely. She had never gotten along with her mother, who seemed to try too hard and understand too little, but looking back Lily wondered just how much of it was invented by the brain of a child who resented only having one parent, one parent who could never fill the shoes of the other, regardless of their identities.

Ginny had been strong in ways that Lily had taken too long to recognize. She never remarried, never dated in the ten years between her husband’s death and her own. She worked, and damn if she didn’t work hard. Lily didn’t have memories of Hermione or Grandmum Molly patting Ginny’s hands as she sobbed, so if it happened, it didn’t happen where Lily would see. She remembered her mother as tired, and her mother as too determined to ensure her kids wanted for nothing. It was almost aggressive, the love Lily received, and Lily took it as a mother who wanted her to change, rather than a mother who wanted to be happy.

There was one memory. One memory where Ginny was not the patron saint of overcoming loss. A Christmas, Lily could not even place the year, couldn’t see her brothers as any age other than the age they all were in her memories, that age between being independent, brooding teenagers and happy, fiercely individual children. As Ginny stepped into the kitchen to fetch breakfast, James took Albus’ gift, some potions book that they all deemed to be geeky, and ran off with it. Albus was in hot pursuit, Teddy following in an attempt to wrangle them into obedience. Lily felt a grin touch her lips and she twisted around, slipping off the couch to hesitantly follow…

The boys all came to a halt without a word when they found their mother staring at the stove, the eggs burnt beyond a crisp. Her arms were shaking and she was saying something about how the eggs had never been her job, had never been her job, it wasn’t fair, she was in charge of the juice and the toast, they had agreed…

No one knew what to do. And so James, of course James, panicked. The radio was playing those classic, soulful Christmas songs, and so he took his mother’s outstretched hands and began to dance. And she laughed, and shook her head, trying to pull away, but there was Teddy, ready to cut in. And they did. Laughing, they spun her between them, dancing and dancing as Lily slowly approached, taking a place next to Albus. It was one time she could remember him taking her hand. And they didn’t say anything. Just watched as their mother’s tears melded seamlessly between tears of joy to tears of grief and back again and back again.

That night, when she passed by her mother’s bed, Ginny was sitting just as Lily was now. At the edge of the bed, as though waiting, eyes far away. And when Albus walked by, he didn’t say a word to Lily, just stepped inside and helped his mother lay down, closing the door behind him.

Lily had no memories of her taking her mother’s hands and dancing. Had no memories of helping her into bed and squeezing her hand tight. She had always been too young, too distant, too anything to deserve a share in the family’s healing. Besides, she had only been a baby. It wasn’t like she ever knew him.

The memory had been playing for so long in her head, that time passed gently, giving her no harsh reminders until the door opened and her eyes slowly came back to this room, this time, ready to greet Apollo Zabini. Because who else would it be? She was, after all, waiting for him in his room.

He had made it to the hindered breathing stage. The "you should come home with me" stage. He looked a bit older than he really was, but that sentence shocked him back into reality. He hadn't even been drinking. Yet there he was, standing at the end of the bar with a brunette winding herself around him thanks to far more drink than was good for her. He just hoped she wouldn't be upset with herself later, even as she ran her lips across the column of his neck. He smelled like smoke and alcohol and whatever else, but now he probably also smelled like this woman's perfume if he was unlucky.

He didn't know why he had come here. How insane and inappropriate. Dom would kill him if she found out why he was there. So would Christian. The thought that Roxi could walk in at any moment did occur to him, but he didn't care. At that moment, it actually would've been appealing. What he wouldn't do to give her what she deserved...

"Come on," the girl breathed into his ear. "Let's go to mine."

"No," he said immediately. His hands found her wrists and pulled her away, and when his eyes found hers he realized that she was probably on something as well. She looked much older. Merlin, she would have regretted that. He hadn't even been able to let himself so much as touch her of his own volition until he needed to make her back off.

So he knew why he was there. Because if Lily knew, it would hurt her. If Christian knew, he would hate him. Because he wanted it until he didn't. And then he wanted to go home because maybe his mum would care about Apollo that time but she probably wouldn't and would end up asking about Christian, so he just went back to the flat.

He would've walked in through the front door, but he didn't want Christian to care when others didn't. It felt like he didn't deserve his brother's fretting despite needing it so badly now when he felt himself flying off the handle. And he didn't even understand why he was doing it. He was scared, mainly. Of Christian getting hurt. Of getting hurt himself. Of saying or doing something that jeopardized his role as his father's favorite, leaving him entirely on the outs. Of waking up and finding that Ace and Lily and whoever else all wanted Christian and while one of those didn't matter, the other did more than she was supposed to.

Merlin, he hated himself.

Instead of lingering in the kitchen, he went directly into his room, jumping back and stumbling into his dresser when he saw who was there.

"Shit, Lily. What are you doing?"