Disclaimer: I own nothing. All credits to JKR. Also, from the beginning of this chapter up until when McGonagall shows up is almost a direct quotation from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, pages 571-572. Basically, the dialogue. That dialogue is all JKR's. Also, innumerable thanks to my Beta, Lady Panthea. You're the best!

And to those who read the original version - Thanks for giving me a second go! Just an FYI, the chapter content will stay mostly the same up to Chapter 4, and then things get very different. The story won't be identical to the last one.

K. Now I'm done.

.o.O.o.

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PROLOGUE

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- ONE -

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…now impossible to deny the threat posed by You-Know-Who. By decree of the current Minister of Magic, Harold Minchum, the Wizarding World is now engaged in a civil war for moral integrity…

~ Excerpt from an article in the Daily Prophet

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June, 1976

JAMES

"I'll let him go if you go out with me, Evans." I wince internally even as the words leave my mouth, but I force a smirk. Merlin, I'm a desperate git. Can't let her see how weak she makes me. Not that she doesn't already know. "Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again." My whole attention is fixed on Evans. I know Sirius's got an eye on Snape to make sure I don't get a hex to the back.

I know what her response will be before it even leaves her mouth. "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."

"Bad luck, Prongs." Sirius is brisk and businesslike, brushing over the snub as though it doesn't sting horribly, even though he knows it does. "OI!"

I turn to see that Snape is back on the move, grabbing for his wand and aiming it straight at me. I'm moving before the spell even leaves his wand, ducking out of the way as the flash sails right by my face, opening a gash along my cheekbone. It spurts, sending scarlet droplets splattering over my robes. Snarling, I whip my wand up and a simple flick leaves Snape hanging upside down in the air.

I feel a bubble of satisfaction rise in my chest as our audience laughs and cheers, Snape's robes falling down over his head to reveal pale, scabby legs, knock knees, and a pair of pants that might have once been white, but are now grey with age.

I turn to grin at Sirius and see Evans glaring mightily at me. Oops.

"Let him down." She doesn't say it with as much venom as usual, and I can't help wonder if she's happy I dodged that spell. It was clearly meant to hurt me.

"Certainly," I reply with a slight bow, my spectacles slipping ever so slightly down my nose as I do. I jerk my wand again, letting Snivellus fall none to gently to the ground. He lands in a heap, struggling to straighten himself out. As soon as his wand is free, he's aiming at me again, opening his mouth to send another barrage of curses towards me, but Sirius is faster.

"Petrificus Totalus," he says, almost lazily, and Snape stiffens, falling flat on his face and prompting another roar of laughter from the gathered students. I can't help but grin. Merlin, it's easy.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I turn to Evans, a quip on the tip of my tongue, but it dries up when I see her wand pointing directly at my chest. Sirius gives me a wary glance. After five years with this girl, we both know that the last place you want her wand is pointed at you.

I sigh mightily, refusing to buckle in front of this crowd. "Ah, Evans," I say, "don't make me hex you."

Her glare strengthens. "Take the curse off him, then."

I'm about to point out that the last time I released him, he tried to kill me, but stop myself, knowing what she'll say. Why don't you just let him so we can all get on with our lives?

Or something to that effect.

"Finite Incantatem," I mutter, waving my wand in Snape's direction. He relaxes instantly and pushes himself to his feet with much effort. His stick-thin arms are shaking but with either rage or exhaustion, I don't know which. Or care.

"There you go," I say cheerfully. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus–"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her." My stomach drops and my mind goes blank. My brain registers Remus' sharp intake of breath and the fact that Evans is saying something, but I can't hear what it is.

My wand is rising, pointing at the bastard's jugular and distantly, I hear myself demand an apology. I only snap out it when Evans rounds on me.

"I don't want you to make him apologise." I wonder if she knows her eyes are swimming. "You're as bad as he is."

Her words are like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head and I can't help but gape at her. "What? I'd never call you a… a you-know-what!"

Evans's eyes are blazing and her cheeks are flushed with anger. "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can." I didn't know she paid that much attention to me. "I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me sick."

Now I'm angry. "Evans!" I yell as she turns to walk away. She doesn't react. "Hey, Evans!" She disappears into the crowd of students. I turn to Sirius. I choke out a laugh and pull my hand through my hair. "What is it with her?" I try to play it cool, to pass it off as a joke, but his look of sympathy tells me it doesn't work.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate." Peter won't look at me, and Remus is giving me that stupid sad puppy look. That's when I remember our audience.

"Right," I say, trying to regain my composure. "Right." My fury means it takes almost no effort to send a non-verbal Levicorpus at Snivellus. I always get a sense of vicious satisfaction when I use one of his own spells against him. It took the git forever to learn to only use non-verbal spells on us. And by then, we already knew his tricks.

I turn back to my audience with a showman's grin. "Now then, who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" The gathered students roar in appreciation as I raise my wand. I take a breath to cast the spell, and–

"POTTER!" Pox. "Mr. Potter, release Mr. Snape this instant!" Double pox.

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SIRIUS

I turn warily to see Professor McGonagall pushing her way through the crowd. How she always manages to show up just when things are getting good, I'll never know. Nerves start to bubble in my stomach as she gets closer. I've never seen her this angry before. Not even when I released a polecat in her office and it destroyed half our year's midterm exams.

"You should be ashamed. All of you!" Two red spots glow on her cheeks as she practically quivers with fury. "Participating in this sort of activity… I am disgusted with you, especially those of you in my house. I expect more from Gryffindor students." Professor McGonagall has reached us by now and is standing in the clear area at the centre of the crowd. "All of you go to your dormitories at once and ten points each from your houses!"

At that, some of the assembled students cry out in protest. They weren't doing anything, some of them call, they were just watching!

"That's enough! Go to your dormitories now, before I take more points!"

The still grumbling crowd begins to disperse. Even though we know it's futile, James and I try to melt into the group, but McGonagall's voice stops us.

"Not you, Potter. I want to see you and Mr. Black in my office. Now." James glances back sheepishly and my stomach twists again. "Mr. Lupin." Remus stops packing his bags looking up at her with a slightly guilty expression. McGonagall just shakes her head sadly. "You've disappointed me, Remus. I thought you were better than this. Allowing such behaviour to go on in front of you. I expected far more from you." Remus blushes scarlet and looks down. Peter, who is standing next to Remus, mutters something to him and pats his arm consolingly but Remus shrugs him off.

McGonagall turns and starts walking back to the castle. James and I hurriedly grab our bags and run after her, knowing, from past experience, that she doesn't like to be kept waiting.

Professor McGonagall is silent as she leads us through the school halls to her office. I have a feeling that we crossed a line today, and a glance at James tells me he knows it too. He's fiddling with his spectacles and tugging at his hair so much that he looks like a hedgehog. I almost tell him that, but then think better of it. Making jokes might push McGonagall over the edge.

Once in the office, we take a seat in the two uncomfortable wooden chairs in front of her desk, while McGonagall sits in her chair. She glares stonily at us over the rims of her spectacles. My stomach is a squirming mass of wriggling worms.

"I never thought I would see the day when James Potter and Sirius Black became tormentors. Pranksters, with a bit of light bullying thrown into the mix, certainly." Despite the light words, her tone tells us that she greatly disapproves. "But intentionally causing another student a trauma so severe that it will scar them for the rest of their lives?" She shakes her head, her mouth tightening into a thin line. "I am disgusted. Explain yourselves."

I glance over at James in dismay. There isn't an explanation to give. We weren't provoked, we weren't defending someone's honour, and there's no way we can fib our way out of this because there are so many witnesses. Somehow, harmless amusement had taken a very dark turn. We were bored. And Snivellus squealed when we poked him. It was kind of funny, actually.

Professor McGonagall continues to stare at us in stony silence, waiting for an answer. Finally, I muster up the courage to mutter a small, "Sorry Professor."

McGonagall stares at me until I begin to fidget, picking at a loose thread on the hem of my sleeve. She clearly interprets this to mean, quite correctly, that there is no explanation. I can tell that we've just lost any good will that we used to have and it will take a hell of a lot to get it back.

She turns to James, waiting for him to speak. He gulps and adjusts his spectacles. "We don't have an excuse for starting it–" he starts, but McGonagall interrupts him.

"So you were going to undress the poor boy in front of all of Hogwarts because you had nothing better to do?" she asks in disbelief.

An angry blush is turning his ears scarlet. I almost roll my eyes. How hopeless can he be to get angry just thinking of someone disrespecting the chit? "No, I was going to undress him because he called Evans a–" James pauses, having difficulty saying the word, "a you-know-what," he finishes uncomfortably.

"No, Potter, I don't 'know-what'."

"A – Well, um," James takes a breath to steady himself. Who would have thought that it would be so hard to say that one damn word? It's said every day in my family. "He called her–" James pauses again, and I know that he'll never be able to get it out.

"Mudblood. He called her a Mudblood." James shoots me a small, grateful smile.

McGonagall's mouth tightens at the word. "While I can in no way condone the use of that term, it does not, in any way, excuse your actions. Is that your only explanation?"

"Yes."

"Very well. One hundred points from Gryffindor house."

"One hundred points!" I stare at her in disbelief.

"Each. And two months detention. Be grateful it isn't more. If Evans hadn't warned me to come down immediately and I had found Mr. Snape stripped, I would have had you both expelled and your wands snapped." I gulp. She would have, too. McGonagall doesn't make idle threats. "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt, and believing that had I not come, you would have come to your senses and stopped yourselves."

We're silent for a moment, James glaring at the floor, and my brain whirling quickly. "Sorry, Professor," I say carefully. James glares over at me, certain I'm about to make the situation even worse. I'm not sure I won't. "But did you say two months of detention?" James's eyes light up.

McGonagall's lips tighten. "Yes, Mr. Black, I did."

"But, Professor," James ventures, catching on, "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but school ends in three days, and we have OWLs. I thought that teachers weren't allowed to give fifth and seventh year students detentions during exams. And anyways, we aren't here for two months."

"I know that, Mr. Potter," McGonagall says, overly patient. "You will begin your detentions in September, and we will decide what they are at that point."

James and I glance at each other in dismay. September is usually a clean slate – carrying over detentions will completely destroy that illusion.

"That is all. You may go."

"One hundred points Prongs!" I hiss as soon as we're out of McGonagall's office. "And two months detention! The Gryffindors are gonna kill us! We were so close to the Puff's in house points. This'll even drop us back behind Slytherin!"

"I know, Padfoot, I know. But there's nothing we can do about it."

"'Cept take the mickey outa Evans."

James stops to glare at me. "Don't you dare. I know she turned us in, but she's still, well, you know. And today has to have been hard for her anyways, what with Snivelly going rogue. She's probably really freaked about the Transfiguration O.W.L. tomorrow too. She doesn't need us ribbing her for being a good Prefect."

"You call that being a good Prefect?" I demand incredulously. James's Evans Spectacles are getting out of hand. "Moony's a good Prefect. He doesn't turn his mates in for a bit of harmless fun."

"That's just it though. We're not Evans's mates, and it wasn't really harmless. If we had actually, you know, stripped Snivellus, he would probably have been too embarrassed to ever show his face in public again."

"Then why the hell didn't we?" James can't help but grin at that. "We would never have to see him again, he wouldn't be standing in between you and Evans anymore–"

"He may have taken care of that himself, when he called her the 'M' word."

"True. But there's also a very, very, very good reason to permanently scar him."

"Oh ya? What's that?"

"If he never shows his face again, he'll have a hard time being a Death Eater."

James's smile fades at the mention of the war and he only grunts in response.

.o.O.o.

A/N: I would love it if you took one second and reviewed. You can write one word or one hundred, I just like hearing what you think!

Timmins