A/N: Hello! A lot of dialogue, a lot of introductions. But it's the first chapter, so I feel that necessary "world building" must occur. Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: JKR. Not me. *sigh*

...

A cold front blew through Diagon Alley two days prior to the beginning of the second term, providing an obnoxious icing of the village and a seemingly universal, foul mood as wizards and witches bustled about in their stuffiest of robes, hoping to garner some warmth.

Lily Evans considered the irrationality of robes from her perch at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. As enamored as she had become with the magical world she called her home, she never quite understood the fashion choices. Wizarding robes were intruding on daily life and did very little as far as comfort on blistering days like today.

The sixth-year Gryffindor chose a more practical—albeit muggle—ensemble of trousers, boots, several layers of blouse and a heavy overcoat. A mustard yellow toboggan matched the mittens that her mum had given her only a few days ago on Christmas.

Even so, always a lover of irony, the sixth-year Gryffindor chose to spend one of her last hours of holiday enjoying a frozen, raspberry sundae.

"Honestly, Lily, did we have to come to Fortescue's when it's below zero?" a new voice interrupted Lily's people-watching. "The Leaky Cauldron is right up the way." Mary McDonald huffed dramatically, pushing her windblown, golden curls away from her face and wrapping her robe—Lily smirked—tighter around her willowy body.

"I don't know why you're surprised that our residential individualist wants to eat ice cream in a blizzard," a second newcomer contributed. Lagoon blue eyes looked to Lily with humor, crinkling at the corners and betraying her faux irritation. Anna Brodeur was shorter than both of her mates, with a petite, yet athletic build. This, paired with her freckles, consistently made her appear as though she had just spent a considerable amount of time playing Quidditch in the sun—which with Anna, was usually a fair bet. "Probably her newest attempt to off us."

"I missed you, too, girls." Lily jumped up to hug her friends. "So," she began as the witches took a seat, "how many boys did we snog?"

Anna snorted, not unattractively. "I like how you use the pronoun we as if our lip locking is a collective action."

"It's vicarious."

"Yeah, yeah," Mary waved her off with an eye roll. "I'm still tragically single and my lips are miserably untouched, but…"

"But?"

"But…little Anna here was telling me about a bloke-of-interest on our way over here."

The copper-haired girl in question immediately sqeaked, defensively. "Oi! Let me share my own dirt!"

"You weren't talking fast enough."

"You two weren't allowing me room to talk!"

"Anna," Lily interrupted, in exasperation. "Bloke-of-interest."

"Right." Anna blinked to focus before a small smile formed on her lips. "Well, it's nothing serious, of course, but we met at that bakery in Hampshire that my mum and I always go to. She's been busy with Matthew, though, you see," Mrs. Brodeur had recently had a new—and quite unplanned—baby, "He just cries so much and he's always hungry, I swear, and sometimes it's enough to drive one positively mad! I try to be a help around the house, of course, but sometimes one just needs a break and so—"

"Anna," this time it was Mary doing the interrupting. "Bloke. Of. Interest."

Anna grinned, sheepishly, before taking a deep breath and launching back into her story. "And so I was mostly on my own when I would leave the house these past couple weeks. Well, I started to go to the bakery every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning and immediately noticed this cute bloke who sat in the same seat every time I was there that first week. As I waited for mum's croissant on day three, we started to chat, and then on day four, I sat with him for a couple hours, and on day five, he bought my breakfast. After that, it all happened rather quickly, honestly. My quick morning bakery trips turned into several hour affairs. He's attending uni right now—"

Lily's wispy eyebrows shot up. "A muggle?"

Immediately, Anna's eyes flashed. "Just because he is a muggle doesn't mean we shouldn't have the chance to—"

"Anna. I'm muggle-born. Mum—muggle. Dad—muggle."

Another sheepish grin. "Oh…right. Sorry. Mum and I had a tiff about it last night so I suppose I'm just defensive." She smiled apologetically. "Anyway, nothing serious has happened, and I'm not sure if it will, what with school starting back up. But, either way, it was a nice winter fling."

"Winter fling." Mary chewed on the words as if she needed to try them out herself. "You would land a perfectly decent bloke and then chalk it all up to a fling."

"I'm not chalking it up, Mary." Anna scowled at the brunette. "I just don't see how I can carry on a courtship with a boy across the country who doesn't even have access to an owl."

"I think he sounds wonderful, Anna," Lily threw in with an encouraging smile. "You know that we'll support you no matter what you decide to do."

"Winter fling," Mary repeated with distaste.

Lily kicked her under the table.

"Have you heard about Sirius?" Mary mused an hour later as the three girls wandered down the alley, arms looped together.

"Black? What about him?" Lily hummed.

"He officially moved out of the Potter's. Has a place of his own now, apparently."

Anna sniffed in disdain. "Pays to be filthy rich, I suppose. 'Heard his uncle left him an inheritance."

"No, I don't think it was because he has the means," Mary said, thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure James kicked him out."

"Potter? Kick Sirius Black out of anything short of the bed he's shagging a girl in?" Lily snorted in disgust. "Not likely."

"Don't you remember how they were the week before hols, though? Something happened with them and they're not mates anymore."

"That can't be true." Lily said, drily.

"Why's that?"

"Didn't you read the Prophet this morning?"

"What? Yes?" Mary's nose scrunched in confusion.

"See any headlines about the end of the world being today?" Lily asked, with raised eyebrows and a smirk. "No, Black and Potter are most definitely still mates."

"What happened?"

"No." Not now.

"What happened?"

"No." Not ever.

"James Fleamont Potter, you will tell me exactly what transpired between you and that best mate of yours this instant or, so-help-me-Merlin, I will Veritaserum you."

James Potter rolled his cognac eyes. "Because that's a legal and morally upstanding parenting technique."

"I don't have to be legal or morally upstanding. I just received a letter from my son telling me he's bought a flat and oh, would it be alright if he drops by to grab his last trunk tomorrow evening? Since when does Sirius Black ask me before he does anything and since when does Sirius Black have a use for his own flat?!"

James stared ahead, darkly. "He's not your son."

"He's as good as!" Euphemia Potter shouted in frustration, her voice echoing among the hollow, tall walls of the normally cheerful Potter Manor. "Who else has he got?"

"Apparently, he's fine without us, Mum, so if we could just drop it…"

"I will certainly not just drop it, young man. You two have been fighting for weeks and I held my tongue—"

James scoffed in protest. "No, you didn't—you practically had an intervention every morning at breakfast!"

"Well, I tried to hold my tongue, but this is too far. Whatever it is that you two are fighting about just needs to be talked about and worked out. Nothing is worth losing your best mate, James. I know that whatever it was may seem like a big deal, but I assure you, dear, that in a few years…in a few months even…you will not even remember—"

"You don't understand the situation, Mum. I have to go."

"Do not walk away from me, James Potter. I am…" But he didn't hear. Within three long strides he was out of the parlour and on the staircase, storming toward his room.

She didn't understand. She would never understand.

As he fell backwards onto his bed, he allowed rationality to seep through his anger. It wasn't his mum's fault. He knew that, he did. How could she understand when he wouldn't explain the situation?

But he couldn't explain the situation. Not now, not ever.

James Potter loved his mum with all of his heart, and he knew she loved him, too, but he didn't put parental homicide past her if she were to discover that he was an illegal animagus who traipsed around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade with a werewolf once a month. He just wasn't ready to have that conversation.

Especially not after Sirius…

Not now, not ever.

...

"Dumbledore is getting soft." Mary remarked, off-handedly, as the students exited the Great Hall.

One of Lily's eyebrows quirked. "How do you figure?"

"Only two dragons are being brought in for the seventh year Magical Creatures practical this year?" Mary emphasized. "Soft."

Lily began to giggle before she was hit from behind with a strong force, propelling her sling bag off her shoulder and allowing all of the books to be thrown to the floor. "HEY!" she called in frustration, as a blur of dark hair and teenage angst whipped past her. "Black! Watch where you're walking!" He didn't turn around.

Lily sighed in frustration, kneeling down, along with Mary to gather her books again. "We've been back for two hours. He can't possibly have already set something on fire."

"Bold of you to assume it was something and not someone."

Lily snorted, accepting the last book from Mary and standing, shoving the tome into her bag once more. "The rest of his cronies aren't in earshot, so I suppose it was a solo mission," she brushed off her skirt and rubbed at her mildly throbbing shoulder. "He could have at least apologized. Merlin."

"That'll teach you not to bring books to the welcome feast, yeah, Evans?"

"Carry my bag, you prat. I'm injured."

"No way."

"Prongs…"

"Don't call me that."

"J-James, I just—"

"Get out."

Remus Lupin, one of the other sixth years standing in the dorm stepped forward and spoke softly. "Mate…where's he supposed to go?"

James turned on him, sharply. "That's not my problem." Remus cast his eyes down and stepped back in resignation.

"James, I'm s—"

"GET OUT!" The bespectacled boy whipped his wand out and held it at length toward his friend.

Sirius looked in surprise at the wand a few mere inches from his face and his aristocratically grey eyes turned dark. It was difficult to determine the irises from the pupils. He opened his mouth as if to say something else and then quickly thought better of it and turned around, billowing out of the dormitory.

Remus sighed as James whipped around toward his friend, still brandishing his wand. "Who's side are you on, anyway, Moony?!"

The sandy-haired boy's eyes widened. "Yours, of course. I don't want him in here either! Not after he…" the werewolf trailed off. "But there's no where for him to go. I'm being practical."

James blinked, realizing his wand was still out and pointed at his mate. He pocketed it, quickly, shaking his head. "I know, Moony." James took a deep breath, sitting onto his bed. "It's not our job to look after him anymore, though. Pad—Sirius…can take care of himself. And if he doesn't…well…that's not our problem."

Remus nodded, sadly. Peter Pettigrew, the fourth roommate, moved from his spectator spot in the corner of the room toward his own bed to sit on it.

"Now," James cleared his throat, a trademark grin materializing. "Who's got the fire whiskey?"

"I thought I incendioed that before we left for hols." Anna remarked, glumly, to one of the other sixth-year Gryffindor girls, Marlene McKinnon. Marlene was holding a photo of Anna in the air, suspiciously. The moving picture showed Anna clinging onto the back of a muscular boy, one arm wrapped around his neck while the other held up her broom in a sort of victory stance. Both were wearing billowing Quidditch robes, but the wizard's were dark blue while Anna's were the signature Gryffindor scarlet.

"You sure you weren't saving it for…sentimental purposes?" Marlene, a witch with chocolate hair thrown into a messy plait, asked, innocently.

"What part of I-caught-him-snogging-Holliday-Carpenter-in-front-of-me-and-he-told-me-it-was-Barry-Lorenzo-on-Polyjuice-Potion would give me cause for sentimentality, Marlene?"

"Okay, fair point. He was a git."

"Rule sixteen!" Lily chipped in from across the dormitory, as she fell back on her own bed and popped a jelly slug into her mouth.

"Don't date Ravenclaws?" Marlene recalled.

"Nope," Anna threw in. "That's nineteen. Eighteen is 'don't date Quidditch players.'"

"Don't both rules apply here?"

Anna thought for a moment before giggling. "Huh, guess so. I really know how to pick 'em." She sat down on her own bed. "Oi, Lily! Jelly Slug me." Lily launched a candy across the room and Anna caught it easily, smiling triumphantly.

The bathroom door opened to reveal Mary, freshly showered and already donning her nightclothes. "Shower's open!"

"Anna, you go ahead. I'll go last," Lily said.

"Sure?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna read a bit before lights go out anyway."

"Don't have to ask me twice. Don't say anything juicy while I'm gone!" The petite girl grabbed a towel from her trunk and whisked into the bathroom.

"Where's Olivia?" Marlene questioned. "I didn't see her at the feast."

"Now that you mention it, I didn't see her on the train, either…"

Mary scrunched her face in disgust. "I'm sure she was just attached at the lips to her boy toy."

"Luke Wilder?" Lily prompted. "He's not a bad bloke."

"Eh."

Marlene smirked. "You're just mad he didn't partner with you for that Transfiguration project last term."

"Yes, because it was the Transfiguration project that she felt rejected in," Lily sneered.

"Shut up, you lot," Mary scowled. "I'm knackered. All right if I turn the lights out?"

"You're just avoiding conversation," Marlene pointed out. "And besides, Lily wanted to read."

"Nah, it's all right, really," Lily said, rising from her bed and rolling her half-eaten bag of jelly slugs. "It's way past lights out anyway. I'll go to the Common Room to get a few chapters in."

"Oh, sorry, Lily, I didn't mean to put you out. We can leave—"

"It's fine, really," the redhead smiled, reassuringly. She grabbed her worn copy of Great Expectations and headed for the door.

"Don't tell me you're reading Charles Kickens again."

"It's Dickens—"

"Kinky," Marlene cackled.

Lily ignored her vile roommate. "And I will be reading Great Expectations until the day I die." She huffed, importantly. "Night, ladies."

"G'night, Lily."

"Night, Lil."

Lily never did get a chance to dive into her Dickens that night.

As she descended the girls' dormitory staircase into the common room, she was alarmed to find that she was not alone. The couch that she fully intended to enjoy for an hour was preoccupied.

With his body parts uncomfortably retracted in toward his torso, curly hair splayed out in chunks, frown on his unconscious face, was a sleeping Sirius Black.

Lily's curiosity almost beat out her aggravation, but not quite. She rarely interacted with Sirius when he was awake…why would she bother with him in slumber?

Even so, she couldn't help but wonder what made the bloke fall asleep on the common room couch before midnight. Why had none of his blokes retrieved him? Why was he in pajama trousers as though he had intended to sleep there all along?

There were no books nearby to suggest that Sirius had fell asleep studying…and after all, it was only the first day back…and after all, it was Sirius Black in question.

It truly appeared as though the dark-haired boy had slept on the sofa on purpose.

With a yawn, Lily realized that although she harbored little affection for the boy, she wasn't cruel enough to rouse him from his obvious deep sleep. And besides, she did have classes starting back up the next morning. Lily looked at her novel longingly before dropping it to her side and retreating back to the dorm. Her hobby of after-hours reading could always be resumed the next evening. In five and a half years of school, Lily had never been interrupted during her late-night reading sprees.

What were the chances of it happening two nights in a row?