(33 : FOR STONY LIMITS . . .
CANNOT HOLD LOVE OUT)

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     SEVENTH YEAR WAS FLYING BY and Juliet was struggling to imagine graduating in six months. In six months, her training wheels would be finally taken off and she was expected to enter a war-torn world as the perfect pureblood wife. An eleven year old Juliet would have been content with that — hell, even her sixteen year old self was accepting of it — but she was a totally different person these days. The fact she was currently spending Christmas Break with the Potters was evidence of that.

     Juliet was only five days into her time with the Potters, but she was already feeling lighter. For once, she wasn't concerned with her task or her impending marriage. Instead, she finally had a family that wasn't obsessed with their reputation or self-image. Euphemia never scolded her and Fleamont never raised his voice — she was even able to fall asleep with James on the couch, never once worrying if she would be judged. The elderly couple were generally supportive, even if they expressed worry over whether or not a secret relationship would cause more damage in the long run.

Things would get a little awkward when the Marauders visited though. Neither Remus or Peter understood why Juliet was staying there for a second time. Peter usually avoided her, but she could tell Remus was getting suspicious and she tried not to let his constant staring break her cool, confident exterior. Thankfully, Sirius carried most of their conversations.

    It was one of the days when the boys were visiting and they were all sat in the parlour. Even though there was a steady flow of chatter, the redhead suspected they were filtering themselves for her sake. Both James and Sirius made futile attempts to include her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was more of a hindrance than anything. The boys kept making eye contact like they wanted to discuss something in private, something she wasn't allowed to hear. Everything was fine when it was only the three of them — James, Sirius and Juliet — but she couldn't crack Remus or Peter. Not to mention her vision was blinded by blood, fangs and fur whenever she saw Remus.

      "Juliet," Euphemia popped her head in from the kitchen, "I could use some help in here if you're not too busy. Would you mind terribly if I tore you away from the boys for an hour or so?"

Grateful for the excuse to leave, Juliet jumped from her seat. Once she was gone, the boys huddled together and began to whisper. After all, James Potter needed their help planning a date.

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"What are you making?" asked Juliet, grabbing an apron from the side. "I should probably forewarn you that I'm not much of a baker, in case you needed reminding of the gift I gave your son last year."

     "Apple crumble." Euphemia never took her eyes off the scales as she measured out some ingredients. "I thought we could all celebrate our last night together and have a little treat, what with you leaving for the wedding in a few days and Peter not being able to make our usual Boxing Day festivities."

     Juliet grabbed a whisk. "So, what do I do?"

     With a chuckle, the woman gently took the whisk out of her hands and put it away. "We'll start simple by peeling the apples," she instructed. "Don't worry about a thing, I'll teach you as we go along. In fact, this is a family recipe that I would hope you would one day pass onto your children."

     "Mia, I —"

     "I'm not insinuating anything, if that's what you're worried about," Euphemia insisted, waving off her concern. "Whilst Monty and I would very much love to meet our grandbabies before we are a pile of old bones, both of us are aware of your . . . unique situation. But no matter what comes of you and my son, our door is always open to you and you are part of this family. You have been since you showed up on our doorstep and I saw how you looked at James."

     The redhead stiffened, most of that night being a blur in her memories. "How did I look at James?"

      "You looked at him like I look at Fleamont," she admitted with a sad smile. "And I know that's the kind of love that can withstand time. Even if things don't work out between you two, it's the kind of love that won't ever wither or fade."

     Juliet never thought she looked at James in a particular way — maybe with contempt sometimes, but never love. However, the more she thought about it, there were occasions she felt like they were the only two people in the room, trapped in the eye of the hurricane. The world around them could be chaotic, but she felt safe as long as he was there. Even before they were a couple, she knew he was valiant and he would put house differences aside if it ever came down to it. It was why she didn't hesitate to knock on Potter Manor after the ball.

     "I don't know if I'm in love him," she muttered. "He's already said it, but something stops me every time. What does it even matter if I'm in love with him if we can't be together?"

Euphemia began to chop the apples into thin slices and lay them in the baking tray. "If you know my son at all, then you'll know that nothing can stop him from getting what he wants," she commented, chuckling. "Timing is a funny thing. Just because you can't be together now, it doesn't mean that it'll be like that forever."

Juliet pulled a face. "Are you trying to say that if we're really meant to be then we'll find our way back to each other?"

"Goodness, no!" exclaimed the older woman. "What you'll come to realise is that love isn't a feeling at all. Love is more than kissing in corridors or walking down the aisle in a beautiful gown. Love is hard work, it's trust and respect, it's seeing someone in their worst moment and coming back the next night, it's staying by their side when the thrill is gone, when the dust has settled and your hair is starting to grey." Rather than being upset by Juliet not returning her son's feelings, Euphemia was only kind and patient with the girl. "And that means you can't expect the stars to align for you. If you want to be with someone, you will need to work to make it happen and that is what might take time."

"It's strange to think love isn't contractual," mentioned Juliet, watching how Euphemia rubbed her base mixture into breadcrumbs. "I don't even know if Lucius and Narcissa love each other. Isn't it sad they'll have to endure eighty years of misery in the name of a political alliance?"

She wondered if they would grow to love each other. If she would grow to love Regulus as more than a friend. It didn't make sense to her — Slytherins only took calculated risks, marrying someone with no guarantee of anything except pure blood seemed like a senseless risk. It was a cycle. A vicious cycle where the babies they raised would resent the parents for grooming them like prized mares and depriving them of love because the parents were never allowed to know what it was themselves.

As she was pouring her crumbs onto the apples, Euphemia paused. "It is sad," she decided, "that they don't realise power can be taken as easily as it's gained. Their pureblood politics mean very little as long as power is fleeting and love is not."

The Sacred Twenty-Eight was established almost fifty years ago and the foundations of the group were shaky enough as it was considering how many purebloods were excluded for their diluted ancestry or being classed as traitors. Did Euphemia think the group would collapse? With dwindling pureblood numbers and a growing muggleborn population, it wasn't a stretch to imagine the hierarchy one day falling. Yet, Juliet couldn't fathom it, not when a huge part of her identity was composed of being a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

     "Are you nervous for the wedding?" asked Euphemia, changing the topic when she saw the worry on the girl's features.

     Juliet kept her gaze on the apple crumble.  "Lucius'?"

     "Mmm," she hummed, her calm eyes filling with rage. "He — he's a coward and I would never have you face him again if I could help it. But there's nothing I can do and I am sincerely sorry for that. What he did to you was unforgivable and he — he —"

"At first, I tried to forget about it," Juliet cut in, noticing how distressed the woman was when she talked about it. "Then I realised that I don't want anyone else to go through what I did, but there's nothing I can do without being branded a mad woman. No matter how much status my name holds, people would rather believe a rich man than the teenager with a reputation for snogging in broom closets."

"What you can do is live in spite of him," said Euphemia, determined. "You can fall in love and find the kind of happiness that entitled gits like him will never know."

Juliet pretended to gasp, only for the woman to swat her with a tea towel "Language, Mrs Potter!"

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     After finishing up in the kitchen, Juliet was going to freshen up before dinner and she was halfway up the stairs when something hit the side of her head. Frowning, she leaned down to pick up the note and it read :

JULIET IS THE SUN,
AND I'M PRETTY GREAT,
SO LET'S HAVE SOME FUN,
YOU FANCY GOING ON A DATE?

(HINT, CHECK YES!)

An overwhelming sense of familiarity flowed through her as she stared at the two check boxes at the bottom of the note. Ignoring the peculiar feeling, she continued up the stairs in search of a quill and shook her head at James' antics.

If she had looked behind her, she would have seen Remus Lupin watching the situation unfold with raised brows. No wonder James was so secretive about who he was asking out.

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A.N: I really wish I could be one of those people with an update schedule, but I am sadly not. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was really fun to write because I feel Juliet needed a mother figure to step in and help her figure out what's going on in her head and her heart. Remus also now knows something is going on between the two. Oh and Juliet and James will be on going their first proper date next chapter. I feel this is a nice break from all the angst — do we prefer fluff or angst? I love both in moderation if I'm honest. Too much fluff is boring and too much angst is stressful.

Question, what is your favourite dessert? I actually hate apple crumble and I'm still traumatised from Year 7 Food Tech when I cut half my hand trying to peel the apples. However, I think cheesecake or fudge cake is probably my favourite.