EPILOGUE: When All is Said and Done

7:45 am. Day Three Hundred and Three of official employment. Current mood: content.

The celebrations lasted until 4am after Puddlemere's second consecutive League Cup win. James would have to admit, it was a close match – Gwenog Jones was practically steaming at the ears when he scored that final goal past her, pushing Puddlemere over the 150 point surplus to win - but he had always known that they would win. The expression on Alison Baxter's face at the Harpie defeat proved to be the best part of the day. A mix of resignation and indignation; something he had never seen before on her. It looked good. This battle was over, but surely she would fight again. Next time, another enemy.

In private, Lily may admit Quidditch had become a somewhat exhilarating pastime for her, only enhanced by sharing it with James. There was something about the hype of an upcoming match that captured her. And the adrenaline rush of watching James steal the quaffle. The euphoria of Puddlemere securing the Snitch. The victory celebrations. However, she did have yet to attempt flight on a broomstick – having sworn off it since a terrible incident during her first year at Hogwarts . Though, in baby steps perhaps, she may get there eventually. James was certainly eager to help her try, but she wasn't quite sure how much of his laughter she could take without hitting him.

Lily snuggled deeper into James' shoulder, utterly drained from their all-nighter. The morning sun gleamed through the window behind and warmed their backs, reminding Lily of her endless days curled up in bed, jobless and seemingly hopeless. Only a year ago. How much had changed since then?

She kicked her legs up onto the lounge and tucked them underneath her. That was better. James snaked his arm around her, pulling her closer toward him. He fingered the stray locks of red tumbling across her shoulders absentmindedly, kissed her forehead tenderly. Lily did not want to move from this position. It seemed that James too was finally feeling the effects of the adrenaline comedown, but his happy demeanour maintained. The second League Cup in a row - Puddlemere hadn't achieved this since the time of his father. Clearly, it was the Potter influence. He reckoned that they could reach three in a row…

"Think it's possible for a third time lucky?" Lily mumbled, her words slurring slightly in fatigue and muffled by his Puddlemere jersey. How did she do that, read his mind so deftly? True, a publicist should be able to anticipate their client's actions and reactions, but Lily's psychic ability took this to a whole new level. He could never pass something under her nose. He laughed softly and slid down the couch, tilting his head to rest on top of Lily's.

"As long as bloody Marvel doesn't injure his arm again." He considered. They both were silent for some time, merely enjoying each other's company and warmth of the sun and their bodies. James could feel fatigue setting in; his exterior limbs began to numb in the comfort of Lily beside him on the lounge. Now, this he was what he loved almost as much as Quidditch. Now this he could enjoy forever. Now this…..

Then Lily shifted again and muttered something unintelligible into his shoulder, jolting James fully awake.

"What?" He asked, a little sharper than he had intended to. He moved his head and leant down to hear her better. Lily helped by placing her cheek on his shoulder, allowing for proper vocalising.

"I said I've been thinking a lot about this job." She repeated softly. She moved to sit up, crossing her legs and looking at him directly in the eye, "I can't do this anymore."

Her words shot his heart straight to his throat. The air left him completely at the suddenness of this statement. He searched her face for a single hint of banter. But Lily's expression was as solemn as her tone. She wasn't joking at all.

"Oh. I see." James followed Lily's lead and sat up a little straighter – the haze of last night's celebrations, fatigue and the sudden change in air pressure making his head fuzzy. He blinked a few times and adjusted his glasses, comprehending this. This job….I can't do this anymore. Initially, privately, he felt fear. Where did this leave them? Was this a break up? He looked to Lily, still stony-faced. What was happening? Again, Lily broke into his thought process.

"No, no, no! It's not you, James. I love you." She assured, clearly realising the ambiguity of her words. She shuffled across the couch to touch his shoulder as to express her feelings. She tossed her scarlet hair over her shoulder and smiled – but cheerlessly, unsurely, "It's just…I don't know what constitutes as my work or my own feelings anymore with you. With the media around every corner and this whole catastrophe with Alison, I-I don't know how long I can keep this up, this…uncertainty." Lily's gaze fell down to the couch, almost embarrassed. "I'm just sick of the media delving into everything I do as an act as your girlfriend rather than as a publicist. I need to get away from something so…individual. I need something more…normal." James was puzzled.

"So what will you do instead? Still Quidditch?" That was optimistic. "Are you even going to be a PR?" Lily kept her head down, the locks of red framing her downcast eyes. She sighed.

"Oh, I don't know James. I mean, I enjoy PR, I love being around Quidditch and it pays well, but…" she raised her chin now, to catch James' eye with her own. Her smile widened, suddenly vivacious. "your coach's offer to manage the Puddlemere team instead is something I couldn't refuse."

And all abruptly became clear to James. An act. She just pulled a bloody stunt on him! James put on a look of shock and exaggerated irritation, before launching himself across the couch to trap Lily beneath him.

"Bloody hell Lily! You had me worried!" He scolded, although his laughter negated any sort of real annoyance in his voice. Lily giggled, pleased with her ploy and one-upping of her boyfriend. James shook his head in amazement – how could he have fallen for that? Lily enjoyed this far too much to have seriously considered giving up – and leant down to kiss her.

What Lily had said was true. Between James and Alison and Izzy and the Wizengamot and Quidditch and the media, nothing in her life was even in the vicinity of "normal". She wanted normal, but she was never going to be normal – receiving a letter from a strange magical school at age eleven shot that concept down immediately. Who was she kidding? She didn't have a "normal" career, or a "normal" boyfriend. Even her coffee order was met with raised eyebrows from the baristas in most coffee shops! As the go-between of the media and the wizarding world's largest – and most followed - sport, this job – this life - it could never be normal.

She and James were never going to be normal, not after Alison and this crazy thing called Quidditch. It wasn't human to be.

But, when all is said and done, and despite what she would tell James on some of her more stressful days, Lily wouldn't have it any other way.

-Fin-

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

And there you have it, folks!

Thank you to every single person who read, alerted, favourited, reviewed and provided all this support for this fic! It has been so wonderful to write, and I do apologise for the terrible updating schedule.

You have no idea how much it means to me to have such a network of ongoing support, and I cannot thank you enough!

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Until next time,

-xSymnia