James had his head down, the case file flat open on his desk, a notepad beside with all the facts he'd collected thus far - which were not a lot, in all honesty. He felt frustrated, like a dog chasing after his tail, slowly going madder and madder. Every bit of evidence led into a new question. If... then why... but if... then why... but if... then why...

He barely looked up when the office door opened and closed and Mr. Underhill came in and hung his hat on the stand by the door. James's eyes flickered to the man as he settled into the seat behind his desk, groaning and shuffling about his papers. He wasn't sure if he was to acknowledge the bit of paper or not, and Underhill, too, was keeping his head down. No words had passed between them and James was acutely aware of the moments passing by on the clock.

"Do you have the file on the Crenshaw case I was working on last week?" Underhill asked without looking up.

"Yes sir, I filed it for you." James got up, went the filing cabinent marked A-C and sifted through to the Cs, pulling Crenshaw out and waving his wand to send it to Underhill's desk. "I put a charm on your cabinents," James told him when his boss gave him a funny look, "So that no one can summons a file from the drawers by magic. They must pull the file manually, which gives an extra layer of protection to them. I mean, it isn't much, but it'll slow a chap down."

Underhill nodded, "Very good, Potter." He turned to the Crenshaw file without another word.

James straightened some of the folders in the drawer, then pushed it closed again.

When he turned back 'round it was to find that Underhill had been staring at him for a long moment. James stood, one hand on the handle of the drawer. "Sir?"

Underhill shook his head and bent over the Crenshaw folder again.

James sat down and flipped the page in the Grant/Veigler folder and bit his lip in thought before leaning to rub his chin as he tried to fit bits together.

"Potter."

"Sir?" James looked up.

"Could you get me the Arlington Case file?"

James thought for a moment. "Arlington, sir?"

"It's an older case. It'll be under the A's."

"Yes sir," James stood up and went back to the cabinent, opening the A-C drawer again and flipping though the folders, each carefully labelled as he'd done. Arabrais, Archer, Argentio, Arlington. "Here it is, sir." He reached and tugged the flie out and went to put it on Underhill's dsek.

Underhill stared at him.

"Sir?" James asked, "What is it? Is my hair off?" he ran his hand through his hair.

Underhill shook his head, "No, Potter," he said, though he sounded as though he were gritting his teeth, "Your hair is fine."

"It's just that you keep --"

Underhill interrupted. "I don't think this is the right file, Potter." He held up the Arlington folder James had just fetched him. "Put it back."

James got back up, walked over, took the folder and turned back to the drawer, thinking his boss might be a little daft. What if whoever that other bloke had been with him the other day had done something to Underhill's memory? And what was with everyone getting a bit daft about him lately? Was it coincidence that everyone seemed to be losing their minds or some odd design that would slowly close in tighter and tighter 'til it had James in its grips?

He took flicked through the folders again, putting the Arlington case away.

Arabrais. Archer. Argentio...

Hang on, James thought. Archer. The Archer Record. The Archer case?

As he pushed the Arlington file into place, his fingers flicked onto the Archer folder and he hesitated, then pulled it out and slowly cloesd the drawer. When he turned back around, Undrehill was watching him, and then he ducked back down into the Crenshaw file.

James carried the Archer file to his desk and dropped it down. He kept his eye on Underhill, but the auror didn't even look up, even as James flipped opened the folder. He gave it a moment, then dove in.

"Behold... the Archer Record."

Lily looked up, startled. She'd been sitting at the desk in their bedroom, staring off at the wall and lost in thought when James tossed a folder before her. "What?" she asked, stirring.

"That note Underhill gave me? The Archer Record is the Archer case file."

Lily blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment, "The what?"

"In the filing cabinet that I've been working on since I started in Underhill's office, where he keeps all the cases - they're records. And there's one for ARCHER."

Lily's eyes widened as she realized what he was saying, fully rousing from her concentration on the runes. "Oh! The Archer Record! Oh James - how did you figure it out?"

"Underhill all but told me," James admitted, "But I think I've got quite a bit figured out from this. Look," he said and he opened the folder up, "Look here, Evans. Brixxton Archer was married to Constance Merriweather-Archer. She kept her name due to her mediwitch licensing." He poked at the page where Constance's name was listed.

"Interesting... Why's he got a record?" Lily asked. She took the photo of Brixxton Archer from the folder. "Aren't these cases mainly for... you know... criminals?" 

"Alright, here's what I've pieced together. So Brixxton Archer was struck by accidental magic during the attack when Druella Black was at the Ministry and whatever hit him really messed with his head. It was apparently a memory-eraser that blotted out literally everything from the man's mind altogether. He couldn't recall anything even two seconds after he was told it. So he was labelled one of the Unhealables. Now this was before Constance knew anything about the Unhealables, and he was in the Janus Thickey Ward all those years until Anne Veigler is brought in, yeah?"

"Okay," Lily was mentally keeping track of the timeline as he spoke.

"So Constance Merriweather's assigned to Anne Veigler and she orders testing and that's when she finds out about the way they do the tests with the Unhealables - because it's her husband what gets picked to fulfill her testing order."

"No."

"Yeah," James said, "So she panics because she doesn't want it to happen to Brixxton. So here's where it gets a little fuzzy - but apparently Grant was working the Archer case, so he's suddenly involved in both the Archer case and the Veigler case which is pitted against one another because of the situation - conflict of interest and all - so he gives the Archer case to his intern... Frank Longbottom."

"Frank?"

"Yeah, this is before Frank was put under the Prewitts. Now, time goes by because Grant and Merriweather are at a bit of a stalemate on the status of the testing and there's a lot going on there... But here is my theory, at least: while the whole Archer v. Grant thing is worked out, Ned Veigler is put under the imperius curse by Death Eaters. Grant is what they call a case ender at the Ministry - or he was, that is, which is when an auror closes every case they work on, often in record speed. So the Death Eaters really want Grant dead because he's caught a couple of them that's been put in Azkaban by this time, so they find out this connection between Ned Veigler and Anne Veigler, Grant's by-then wife, and thereby a connection to Grant, and they use the connection to get to Grant. So Ned, under imperius, goes to the hospital and Grant's put under an imperius himself, which is why Anne doesn't recognize him. Well the hospital doesn't know Grant is under imperius, so they assume Anne Veigler's flipped it and they put her in the Janus Thickey Ward."

Lily nodded slowly, "So it was Ned that visited her then."

"Yes, and he's the one who imperiused Grant." James paused, "But Grant manages to throw Ned off since it's a double-imperius, see? The magic's too weak because Ned's only imperiusing Grant under his own imperius. So my theory goes that he throws off the curse just as Anne Veigler is declared unhealable herself - but for the moment when she was considered Unhealable, the request for testing for what's wrong with her is cancelled,  so Constance Merriweather gets Brixxton Archer cleared, and then when Anne's come to it just all gone off the rails and the tests are never done, so Anne passes away within days... leaving Marjorie to Grant."

James looked quite proud of himself. 

"Wow," Lily murmured.

"And Constance... Well, someone shut her up to keep Ned Veigler's imperius from being found out, I reckon. Not that that matters any more - the curse is just lingering on now that Ned's gone."

"So how does all this help you locate Marjorie? And what was Ned's connection to Anne? Is Marjorie Ned's daughter or his niece?"

"I dunno exactly on that lot, but it explains some of the loose ends that have been woven into the case... and I think Underhill gave me this information because this is all stuff that's already been looked into - he knew I was going to go and see Constance Merriweather and he knew I was barking up the wrong tree, you know?"

"So what now?" Lily asked.

James considered for a moment, then answered, "I suppose I need to talk to Remus and learn more about Ned Veigler... perhaps a trip to Fallengunder is in order." He was quiet a moment, "Yeah, I think a good study-up on Ned's background. Y'know, other than he was bit by Greyback and ended up our DADA professor, I don't know much more... I really ought to have done while he was here." James suddenly felt guilty for having wasted what time he had with Ned. All those years had been squandered off. Of course he'd never grown so close as Remus Lupin had, but there really ought to have been more. After all, Veigler had been a very powerful wizard, and he'd overcome so much, seen so much... He regretted suddenly having never learned more from one of the bravest and most powerful wizards he'd ever been gifted the opportunity to know.

Lily closed her eyes, and a pained expression came on her face. "I know," she said, "Me, too."

"Ey?" James asked.

Lily looked at him. "You feel guilty... about Ned."

"Yeah," James nodded.

Lily bit her lip, then, "I can feel it, James."

"What?"

"Your guilt. Your... what is it? Remorse? Regret. I can feel it." Lily sounded so surprised, so awed, that he knew there was more to what she was saying and he knelt beside her chair, looking up at her. "I've been studying about love magic all day," she explained, "And, James - oh James, it's so good, it's so good... It's painful, but it's so good, and I - I can feel it already becoming a part of me, and --" Tears came into her eyes. 

"Love, don't cry," James said, and he reached in his pocket and took out his wand, magicking a stream of tissues, which he plucked one of and handed it to her. She took it and dabbed at her eyes, and he stared up at her with a nervous expression. "What do you mean it's painful? I don't want you studying it if it hurts you..."

"Not physically painful, it's not like that, James, don't worry. It isn't hurting me, it's making me stronger and more --" She couldn't find the right word, but she said, "I thought all day about Petunia and about my Mum, about how much I love them. I want to try at inviting Tuney and Vernon after all to the wedding. Is that all right?"

"Of course, Evans, you can invite anybody you'd like to," James said. 

Lily said, "I have so much more to learn, I know, but it's already stronger. After just a day, it's stronger." She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the softness slide through her fingers as she brought her hands 'round him, resting on his shoulders. She leaned down and closer to him and she lay her forehead against his. They stared at one another this way, each looking directly into the others eyes. "Listen to me, Mr. Potter," Lily said quietly, "You are brave and compassionate and loving and funny and I care a great deal about you."

"I care a great deal about you as well, Evans," James replied.

She smiled, "I'm lucky to have you."

"Lucky to be stuck with me?"

"I hope that I'm never unstuck."

"Evans," James said, "How many years did you spend trying to unstick me? I'm not going anywhere love... except straight to the alter so I can make an everlasting vow to you."

Lily kissed him and her hands went back up into his hair as she did, her legs wrapped about his torso and she let out a squeal when he suddenly stood up, his arms holding her as she was lifted off the chair and he laced his fingers, hands pressed against her back. She felt safe in his strong arms and she laughed as he spun them about a couple times before putting her down gently to her feet, their arms still entwined and tangled up around one another.... and suddenly they were slowly rocking back and forth, dancing gently to no music except that which was in their heads.

At Hogwarts, the morning after Halloween, there had been quite a stir about the castle. Everyone had been talking about it - the portrait that went missing. 

Dumbledore stood in the corridor, staring at the empty span of wall. McGonagall stood beside him, as did Flitwick, both staring at the wall.

"I don't understand it anymore than you do, sir," Flitwick finally said in a defeated little voice. "I can't think of how it was done." He walked up and ran his fingers over the wall paper. Other than being slightly darker than the rest of it, where it hadn't been exposed to light in hundreds of years, there was no sign of damage - certainly not any damage by spell work or by any tools that might've been used for manually prying the thing off the wall. He couldn't even feel any sort of residue of spells. Flitwick shook his head. "I'm truly stumped, sir."

Dumbledore was rubbing his beard.

McGonagall said, "I do not take to pointing the finger very lightly, Headmaster, you know that, and yet I cannot help but think that it was --"

"I know," Dumbledore said, "I don't understand how though... or what he might've done with it..." then he added, "Or why."

They stood quietly, Flitwick backing up to stand side-by-side with the other two again, and once more they stared at the empty space on the wall. "Filius."

"Yes sir?"

"Would you be so kindly as to go and fetch Argus Filch and to have him collect for me the portraits of the remaining two Peverell brothers, please? And have him use the usual methods of moving them to my office - immediately."

"Yes sir," Flitwick nodded and hurried away.

McGonagall was quiet until the sound of the footsteps of the tiny professor had died away down the corridor. "Why the other two, Albus?"

"I don't need the boy collecting all three of the portraits," Dumbledore replied. "Separate, they're dangerous indeed, but together..." He shook his head. "Together, it could be quite disastrous if they were to be collected into the wrong hands." He mused a moment. "I have seen already the danger that can be caused by wizards who put too much stock into fairy tales and myths like the Deathly Hallows... and in the hands of Voldemort --" Dumbledore paused. "I've long known that he was involved with our enemies, for years he's been trying at covering the dark mark. I've tried to warn him... but I cannot keep overlooking these sorts of dangerous actions." Dumbledore drew a deep breath, shaking his head.

"The mark?" McGonagall asked in shock. "Never...?"

"For some time now, Minerva," Dumbledore nodded. "But I had hoped, given his brother's enthusiasm for the side of right that perhaps we might still see some goodness come from him, but I think that the time has come that we must... let go of what might have been, and act upon what is. We cannot have this kind of thing continue at Hogwarts."

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore. "Are you saying... expulsion?"

Dumbledore hesitated, his lips pursing together. "Perhaps so," he murmured. "As much as I regret it... I shall have to talk to the Headmasters about the situation before anything is done for certain."