When Lily doesn't want to be found, she'll make herself scarce. She'd had six years to master the art form of avoiding James Potter, and she knows these halls and their shortcuts like the back of her hand. Perhaps not to the same extent the Marauders do, but it's enough. It's typically been enough.

There's been much to reflect over since her talk with Sirius. Granted she's been dead for only a short while, and she's had barely any time to truly let the idea of Remus' once-believed betrayal to permeate her mind before that belief'd been firmly corrected.

Alas, avoidance doesn't work to her favor when she's teaching a class. It'd been something on a whim. Potions always came easily to her, and she'd figured being in this atmosphere would lend itself to a certain level of comfort. Her smile towards Remus is thin-lipped and brittle, but not unfriendly. It's the smile of someone treading in choppy waters--who wants the world to believe everything's fine, when everything is certainly not.

"I'd had two years to mentally prepare myself for a child's rowdiness. And a decade of dealing with the lot of you." She tilts her head. "They were like we'd been. It seems I've come full circle."