Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling; therefore, everything you recognize is not mine. Please don't sue me.

An Unpleasant Surprise

It was September 1st, and all around King's Cross Station people hurried to catch their trains, or dragged baggage behind them, cursing and sweating as they headed for the nearest exit. If there were more people in the area near platforms nine and ten, the fact went unnoticed. If the people in that area were, perhaps, a bit more oddly dressed than
usual, they were passed of as being part of some sort of tourist group or members of some other gathering, and went unremarked upon. If the birds in the cages that a number of people carried were not canaries or budgies but owls, well, young people kept all sorts of animals as pets these days, didn't they?

Seventeen-year old Lily Evans knew otherwise. She was well aware that it wasn't a trick of the light that made people seemingly disappear into the barrier between the ninth and tenth platforms. She also knew quite well that many of the families strolling through the station visited this part of London very seldom, and that they would probably return just once during the course of the next year, in June, before quite literally disappearing until the following September.

You see, Lily Evans was a witch, and like so many others of her kind, today she would board the train stationed at Platform 9 ¾ to return to her magical education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After all, she had done the very same thing for the past six years.

Flipping her shoulder length red hair over her shoulder, she glanced around quickly to make sure that no one was watching her before wheeling the trolley that held her trunk and her owl towards the seemingly solid barrier between platforms nine and ten. Instead of crashing into it, she passed through the wall as though there were nothing there at all, and stood standing on a platform so different from those on the other side of the barrier that it seemed as though she had stepped into another world altogether. Crowds of people in long robes and pointed hats stood chatting happily as they loaded trunks onto the scarlet train that waited patiently before them, while cats and the occasional toad struggled to free themselves from the arms of one child or another. Owls hooted softly at one another, and the occasional bangs and clouds of sparks or oddly colored smoke signaled a spell gone awry. Parents hugged their children, kissing them goodbye until the holidays. Lily smiled. She was going home to Hogwarts for the last time. She had grown to love the school she had spent the past six years attending as though it were home instead of the house where her parents and sister lived, and. . .

"Lily Evans!"

A shriek broke through the redhead's thoughts, followed closely by an impact that nearly knocked her off her feet as Alice Marchbanks, one of Lily's closest friends, hurtled herself at her companion, blond curls flying.

"Alice!" gasped Lily, "It's wonderful to see you!"

She returned her friend's exuberant embrace. Alice was a slightly plump young woman with a round face, rosy cheeks, and eyes like bits of sky.

"Have you seen Aisling yet?"

Aisling O'Conner was the third member of their closely knit friendship.

"She's on the train already, saving a compartment," said Alice simply. "Well, let's see it."

Lily didn't need to ask what Alice was talking about. Grinning, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a shining badge with the words 'Head Girl' engraved across it and pinned it onto the front of her shirt. Alice beamed at her like a proud parent.

"I knew you'd get it; I don't see why you were so anxious. That badge has practically had your name on it since our first year."

"Don't be silly," replied Lily, pleased by the compliment. "It could just as easily have gone to Julia Marches from Ravenclaw."

Alice snorted. "Lily, you have practically radiated 'future Head Girl' since you first arrived at Hogwarts. No one else stood a chance."

"We're all entitled to our own opinions," stated Lily primly, before grinning again. "Come help me get my trunk onto the train."

Laughing and chatting, they made their way around the clusters of students snifling parents to the side of the train and hoisted Lily's trunk through the door. As they dragged it through the corridor, Lily caught sight of a small group of students and scowled. Seeing the look on her friend's face, Alice glanced in the direction of her glare and sighed. The sources of Lily's ire were four boys, namely Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and most of all James Potter. Lily's intense dislike of their ringleader was so notorios as to be almost legendary.

"Leave it, Lily," she advised. "You'll have to deal with them all year; do you really want to get angry at them already?"

"I know, Alice, I know. But I can't help but want to throttle Potter every time I catch sight of his stupid face. It's a reflex."

She tore her gaze away from the foursome and followed Alice down the corrider, seemingly relaxed. However, her friend distinctly heard her mutter "Bloody prats," under her breath. Fortunately, at that moment, a head of hair the color of expensive chocolate leaned out of the next compartment, effectively distracting Lily.

"Aisling!"

Lily's face broke into a wide smile, all thoughts of James Potter banished. Dropping her trunk and causing Alice to let of her breath in an explosive whoosh, Lily threw her arms around her friend. Warmly returning the embrace, Aisling grinned at the badge on Lily's chest. Small and slight, with a curtain of dark hair that hung straight and loose past her waist, Aisling looked up through her bangs to meet Lily's green eyes with her own strikingly dark blue ones. She was more reserved than her two companions, but by no means shy.

"You had better move your trunk, Miss Head Girl, before Alice collapses."

Laughing, Lily turned to take her trunk from an indignant Alice, and the three girls hoisted the trunk into the luggage wrack. Sliding the door to the compartment closed behind them, the girls sank companionably into their seats.

"Do either of you know who the Head Boy is yet?" inquired Lily.

"Maybe Remus Lupin?" suggested Alice, "or Jack Buckley from Hufflepuff?"

Both were prefects, and widely considered to be candidates for the position.

"No," countered Aisling pensively, "not Jack, I think, nor Lupin." Her eyes were looking inward, and her voice was calm and certain.

Lily and Alice looked at each other, but didn't question Aisling's observation. She had some Seer blood; not a true gift of prophesy, but enough that she sometimes dreamed in ways unlike most people, and when she had a feeling about something, she was almost always right. She crinkled her nose in mild irritation and looked up to meet her friends' eyes.

"I don't know who," she responded to their unasked question, "just not them."

Lily and Alice had known Aisling more than long enough to have become accustomed to her occasional insights, and accepted them without a thought.

"I do wonder who it'll be, though," continued Lily, "I think I'll die if I have to spend hours and hours with some Slytherin who can't get past the fact that I'm muggle born."

"I wouldn't worry about it. Dumbledore wouldn't have assigned two heads who wouldn't be able to work together." Aisling pointed out logically.

"You're probably right," agreed Lily, standing up to pace, "but who does that leave? I hardly think that Dumbledore would have passed over Lupin or Buckley in favor of Michael Craggs or Daniel Moon; both are better qualified for the position."

Just then something outside caught Lily's eye. Her eyes widened. She flushed brilliantly, then all the color drained from her face. She sat down. Hard.

Surprised and bewildered, Alice and Aisling peered out of the window of the compartment, trying to catch sight of whatever was causing their friend's antics. They caught sight of it almost immediately. The four boys known as the Marauders had just strolled past, and what caught their attention was the badge that gleamed on one of the boys' chests. The two girls looked back at Lily silently, pity in their eyes.

James Potter was the new Head Boy.