A/N: SORRY for the late update, you've all been incredibly patient, thank you, and a special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: ZLM20, xxDazzled11xx, . .falls, SiriusBlackIsAwesome, PrincessDreamGirl, peacock33, Jerry Side, Sapphire Leo, xoLOVExo, absterdabster012, ShadowGoblet21, GinnyEvans4, Kim, 97 Diagon Alley, twilightstargazer, MaryLouise1996, Jenn222, jamespotterthefirst, Maddaz a Hatter, Light Under My Skin, TheRedHeadGirl, RandomFandom5, we make paper cranes, TonksReincarnation, Jess the Enthusiast, I Hate Being A Muggle, shiny ruby, WobblyJelly, heartofgoldd, Honey Badger7437, Serendipity123, FudgeFanatic, and my 3 anon reviewers!

I've got some news probably none of you will like. But in the interest of letting you remain my faithful readers for one more chapter, I'll save that for the end.

Oh, and just for clarity—assume everyone is writing from their respective houses unless otherwise stated!

June 9, 1977, 8:12am

Godric's Hollow

RD: Save me, Pots.

JP: Merlin, Rosey Posey, you've only been here two days.

RD: Yes. And?

JP: I'm sorry we're not refined enough for your newly acquired Parisian tastes.

RD: I don't live in Paris, James.

JP: Well, that's the only place worth going in France, can't see why they wouldn't put Beauxbatons there.

RD: You've never been to France, how would you know?

JP: I just do, all right?

RD: Fine. And I know you find Godric's Hollow as bloody boring as I do, so drop the act and come entertain me. Mum's been awful since I arrived—going on about how I should be thinking about 'finding a husband' (her actual words) soon, as if this was the sodding eighteenth century. I told her I'd rather move home permanently, and now she's threatening that I've either got to make good on that promise or she'll arrange a marriage for me. And I haven't even got you to fall back on anymore, because you've gone and found yourself a girlfriend.

RD: Which is lovely, of course, when do I meet her?

JP: Not before Mum does, or she'll have a fit.

RD: Lizzy wouldn't care; we're mates.

JP: As much affection as my mother has for you, Posey, I doubt she'd let you call her "Lizzy."

RD: I could at least get away with "Elizabeth," though. Whereas my mum still makes you call her "Mrs. Dupont," as though she hasn't known you since you regularly wet your pants.

JP: A charming image. You should definitely bring that up again when Lily's around.

RD: So that's it, is it? You haven't introduced me to your girlfriend because you're afraid I'll embarrass you?

JP: Oh, I'm certain you will.

RD: What if I promise to be good? The perfect example of a lady.

JP: You've never been a lady, Rose.

RD: Oi! Thanks a lot, you sod.

JP: But it's one of your best qualities.

RD: You're still a git. Now, let's go somewhere.

JP: Where? The cemetery? Or the church? Or the one pub in town, which doesn't serve alcohol during the day?

RD: Those are basically our only options, aren't they? No wonder I hate it here.

JP: Cemetery it is, then.

RD: It's morbid how often you visit that place.

JP: What? It's fascinating to see all the people who managed to live here without dying of boredom.

RD: How do you know that wasn't what killed them?

JP: Good point.

RD: See you in a few.

June 10, 1977, 10:56am

JP: Evans, good news. Mum says you're more than welcome to stay with us for our last two weeks here. I'll send you the address.

LE: So, who is she?

JP: Who's who?

LE: Don't play innocent with me, Potter.

JP: Er, am I in trouble?

LE: Only if I find out you didn't tell me about this "Rose" on purpose.

JP: Oh. I haven't mentioned Rose yet? I am in trouble, then, she'll be offended you don't know everything about her.

LE: Do you have some sort of odd fetish for girls named after flowers?

JP: What? No, Rose and I aren't like that, trust me. Where'd you get that idea, anyway?

LE: Sirius. He told me not to worry about it, which I naturally took to mean I should.

JP: I'm sorry, I should have remembered to tell you. Rose is just a mate—we sort of grew up together.

LE: She wasn't your childhood sweetheart, then?

JP: Excuse me while I murder my best mate.

JP: All right, that's done. No, definitely not sweethearts. Not even close. There's a reason Rose would never go for Sirius, despite his dogged efforts to win her over.

LE: Because she hates him?

JP: Well, there's that. But even if he wasn't the world's most arrogant prat (after me, of course), he still wouldn't stand a chance.

JP: Don't tell Rose I told you all that, though.

LE: I won't. And if you say there was never anything between you two, I believe you.

LE: To answer your earlier question, yes, I'd love to visit and see where the famous James Potter grew up.

JP: Excellent.


JP: "Childhood sweethearts"? Thanks a lot, Padfoot.

SB: Why are you up at such an ungodly hour, Prongs? It's summer. And I don't know what you're so worried about, I told Lily how madly in love with her you are.

JP: You what?!

SB: Or maybe just "mad", was the word I used. I can't remember.

JP: You're the worst best mate I've ever had, Padfoot.

SB: I'd better be the only one you've ever had. But are you?

JP: In love with Lily? What do you think?

SB: Oh, Merlin. Disgusting. And yet I'm also, bafflingly, happy for you. But perhaps that's just because I'm too tired to muster up any other emotion.

JP: I wouldn't have pegged "happiness" as your default.

SB: You're right. It must be genuine, then.

June 14, 1977, 3:28pm

LE: Hello Remus, my dear friend. I miss our weekly patrols together. Well, no, I don't miss patrols, I'm not that desperate. But I do miss catching up on your life. You could have discovered a new cure for boils by now for all I know. Or spent a day straight with nothing but tea and a book to entertain you, which is more likely. Or been killed in a tragic broomstick accident, no doubt caused by Black or Potter. But that would be horrible, I hope that's not true.

RL: Lily, how bored are you right now?

LE: Very. Is it that obvious?

RL: It is. I assume you wouldn't normally be plotting my untimely passing, otherwise.

LE: I was not plotting it, that would be disturbing. I was merely speculating on your activities the past couple of weeks.

RL: I'll leave you to your speculation, then, I'm sure it will be more exciting than the truth.

LE: You sound despondent.

RL: No.

LE: I think you are, if you can't even come up with a colorful argument. Has Dorcas written yet? I know she wishes she could have spent the summer here. I mean, not really, since she's in Prague, and who would pass up Prague for England? But I'm sure she misses you.

RL: Mmhm, she sent me a quick owl when she arrived.

LE: But nothing since then? I'll have to have a word with her.

RL: No you don't.

LE: I do, though. It's a best friend's duty to inform her mate when she is being unacceptably self-centered.

RL: I've tried that with Sirius for years, but nothing seems to work.

LE: Well, you can't fix everyone.


LE: Dorcas Louise Meadows, you write to your depressed and lonely boyfriend right now. No, I'm making him sound pathetic, which I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate. But he certainly wouldn't say no to a word from you. At least let him know you're still alive, for Merlin's sake. All right, I'll stop mothering, I know you and Marlene hate when I do that.

I hope you're having a delicious time in Prague, but don't forget the rest of us!

And sorry for using your middle name. I haven't forgotten how much you dislike it. Remember how I did that to you and Benjy all the time second year? It's a wonder you're both still friends with me. Anyway, miss you, dear, but I'll see you at the end of July!


LE: Benjamin Lucas Fenwick.

BF: Merlin, what did I do to deserve that?

LE: Nothing. I was just recently reminded how awful you find your middle name, and how ridiculous I find that, and I therefore felt the need to use it.

BF: Rubbish mate, you are.

LE: I know you miss me, Fenwick.

BF: I suppose wouldn't object to, say, meeting up at the Cauldron tonight.

LE: Can't. I'm leaving early tomorrow morning to visit James for two weeks.

BF: Use protection.

LE: Merlin, Fenwick. I'm sure we'll be sleeping in separate beds—his mum will be there, after all.

BF: Still. You do not want to have that idiot's children, trust me.

LE: I told you to stop insulting my boyfriend.

BF: Probably not going to happen.

LE: At least I've been warned, then.

June 15, 1978, 6:38pm

Godric's Hollow

LE: What if they all hate me?

JP: That's ridiculous. I'll disown them if they do.

LE: I don't think you can disown your own mother, James.

JP: Sirius did it. Are you ready yet?

LE: I've been ready for five minutes. Just working up the courage to come down.

JP: Merlin, Evans, at this rate we're going to be late. I promise everyone is nice. Well, Helen—Rose's mum—is a bit odd. And Rose can be overwhelming to people the first time they meet her. But then again, I've been told the same. You survived our first meeting, though. Okay. I'm getting off topic. And I'm also leaving in one minute with or without you…

LE: All right, all right, I'm coming.


RD: Lily's fantastic, James, I love her.

JP: Me too.


JP: See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Leaving out the bit where Rosie's mum asked when we were getting married, of course.

LE: Yes, that was embarrassing.

JP: Gee, thanks, Evans.

LE: You know that's not what I meant.

JP: Anyway, the woman's obsessed with marriage. Just ask Rose—the poor girl gets hammered about the subject every time she's home.

LE: I really like her—Rose. I feel silly for getting jealous.

JP: That's all right, Sirius deserves all of the blame. And you're a better girlfriend than Rose could ever be, anyway.

LE: Good. You're rather wonderful yourself.

JP: What can I say? I make the ladies swoon.

LE: Maybe I would if I wasn't so busy laughing at that assertion.

JP: Oi! I can be romantic, all right?

LE: So you're going to start sending me flowers and writing poetry, are you?

JP: If that's what you want.

LE: You couldn't write a poem to save your life, Potter.

JP: You think so, Evans? Well, this is where I prove you wrong: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?/Thou art more lovely; instead/Let's finish this poem in your bed.

LE: All right.

JP: 'All right'? I think 'brilliant' is the word you're looking for, actually. 'Inspired', 'genius', or 'moving' would also work.

LE: No, Potter, I meant 'all right.'

JP: Oh.


LE: There you go.

JP: I'll be right over.

A/N: So much for taking it slow, Lily. But she probably knew that was futile from the start. They're both too hot for that. As to whether I was implying at the end there that they actually *whispers dramatically* had sex, in my mind the answer is no. There are plenty of other fun things you can do in a bed, though….

Anyway, you've now met the elusive Rose. And James loves Lily, so all is well.

What is less well is what I'm about to tell you. Basically, I'm putting this story on hiatus. I feel like I'm uttering the worst curse word in the world saying that, and I feel absolutely awful about it, because you all deserve better. What's happened (as you may have guessed by the fact that this update took nearly two months) is life has become exceptionally busy and stressful. And I don't see that stopping for…about the next four years. I'm so, so sorry, this story certainly isn't done in my head and it kills me that I have no time for it anymore. But you've all been wonderful and supportive and lovely, and I really appreciate each and every one of you.

Hopefully we'll meet again.