A/N: So here it is, the first chapter of the continuation of Summer's Breath. It's a bit late in coming, I know, and I'm sure the next update will either be by the end of today or in about a month...so I hope you enjoy this chapter! lol

For those of you who haven't read Summer's Breath, there is no need to (although it wouldn't hurt). I'm not going to pop out random things from that story without explaining them first. And, if you need clarification, ask me and I will do what I can to help.

This story will include drama (although not The O.C. type drama, but drama I feel everyone experiences during their last year of whatever), drama that I also figure would be true to the story.

Also, I know this chapter is really cliche! I mean, they are on the train, bla bla bla, but I needed to get this in, so that you know in advance what's coming up (I believe people refer to this as 'foreshadowing' - see if you catch on it!). I planned this story out, but it's a really rough and ugly plan that I need to work out...

Disclaimer: I am writing on and therefore it would be logical to assume that, not only do I not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to the stories, but that I am aware of it. As such, this will be my only disclaimer. You have been warned!

Chapter 1 - Rule of Train

If an uneventful train ride would have meant a very peaceful and quiet seventh year then, by that same token, a very eventful train ride would mean a very chaotic year. It was the rule of thumb – or rather, of train – one that Peter had actually conjured all his own. It was a trend, ever since second year after the group had officially been labelled a 'group' and they had taken to riding the train together. Second year's train ride and almost the entirety of the school term had been very boring, which is why James and Sirius had taken to playing pranks. The train ride home had been exciting; James had set his robes on fire trying to use an advanced spell that obviously backfired; Sirius' mouth had grown to roughly the size of a bagel as he also tried some sort of spell and it, too, backfired. Remus had struggled to put out the flames meanwhile Peter had squealed like a girl, terrified that James would die or worst, burn him. The summer between second and third year had been the most random and eventful summer any of them had ever experienced.

The thing about this rule is that you can't force it. You can't deliberately make the train ride fun or boring, it just sort of has to become loud on its own. Not that the Marauders had ever tried to influence the outcome of a train ride, for the thought was almost sacrilegious. No, the four friends had always let their lives unfold itself in front of them the way it was meant to be.

That was why James now sat in a compartment, desperately trying to concentrate on the words flowing from Lily's mouth yet unable to. His thoughts kept zoning out to the Rule of Train. It was a very structured train ride, very eventful but not in the same way it had previously been. Being Head Boy (which James had completely forgotten about) meant that he had some serious responsibilities, responsibilities that he thought himself incapable of fulfilling. It was annoying, really, but what could he do save try to keep his head above it all and commit himself to his new duties.

What could he do? Was he seriously thinking that? He could do anything he wanted to, he was Head Boy! And Lily Evans, Head Girl, was not only Head Girl, but she was his girlfriend! So long had he waited for it and now that he had it, he was so afraid that it would turn out for the worst, that he felt like he did about being Head Boy: he was way over his head, someone had misplaced him, and he should turn himself in before he was accused and charged of fraud.

In the Prefect's compartment, James sat with a straight back, keeping his eyes steady and level, almost as though he was evaluating all the people who sat around him. Remus' presence was really the only comfort James felt. Lily…Lily just made him nervous, which is why he averted his eyes from her whenever she was talking.

"So, I guess that's it. You can go and set out to do your duties now." Remus stood and sat beside James after Lily had spoken.

"You alright?" he asked the still very lofty headed James.

"Er, yeah, I'll be fine." James couldn't tell what he was looking at, he had been looking at it for so long that all the lines that defined the object's shape had smudged themselves into a big blur. Come to think of it, his eyes burned from the lack of blinking.

"That was some scene out on the platform James, care to explain yourself later?" James nodded without taking his eyes off the blur. There was a hint of suppressed demand in Remus' request. James knew he had failed to mention his summer romance with the object of his affection to his three best mates. He also knew why, though he would never admit it to himself. All that he knew at this moment was that his eyes burned, and that he realy wanted to be alone with Lily. He had to talk to her. "We'll be in our regular compartment," Remus stood and stopped in front of Lily.

"Remus," she greeted formally.

"Lily…" James felt Remus' eyes linger on him a moment. He mumbled something James couldn't understand. Judging by Lily's response, she had.

Lily stood and walked Remus to the door, thanking him for something and sat down next to James. "James," she called, but James didn't respond. "James," she said a little louder, but again, James couldn't respond. He was transfixed. The blur was turning into random objects that evoked memories of his childhood, of his younger self sneaking into the Prefect's compartment with his invisibility cloak, planting the odd dungbomb beneath the Head Boy's robes, securing some sort of firecracker in the Head Girl's sock. "JAMES!" James jumped. Obviously, the woman wanted to speak to him.

He turned to her, snapping his mind to the present day. It almost hurt him; his brain struggled against the on flow of memories, struggled to shut the door to that part of his brain. "Yes," he managed.

"Are you alright?" She turned her entire body around, pulled her legs up onto the seat and crossed them one under the other. She leaned her back on the window behind her and waited for him to answer.

He couldn't answer her, though. He was looking at her looking at him, and to James, that meant that he didn't need to speak, that she would understand without him needed to verbalise his thoughts. He wondered why he thought this, though. It wasn't as though they had spent their entire lives living together like he and Sirius did, almost joined at the hips, those two were. No, it felt much more…personal than that.

Lily leaned towards him and grabbed both his shoulders, turning him such that his back was facing her, and pulled him down to lay on her. James pulled his legs up on the seat, forced to bend his knees as the walls of the compartment were too close together for him to be able to extend his legs to their full reaches. He lay there for five minutes without talking, just staring at the ceiling, tracing its dull motif with his eyes. Lily's comforting hand fiddled in his hair the way his mother used to before he had grown out of that phase. Funny how the things your parents do to comfort you or to make you know they appreciate you, you eventually push away from and turn to someone else for. Had it been anyone else, James would have felt like a traitor.

"The last time my mom played in my hair was when my father died," he spoke casually. Lily continued with his hair, though James found her other hand and began to massage it, his feet burning at the thought that his hands were now touching one of hers. "At one point, I hugged her when she was sitting down and she wrapped her arms around me and started to play in my hair. I never really told her how much that small gesture helped me get a grip on myself. But sure enough, stupid git that I am, two weeks later I found myself telling my mother that I would prefer if she not play with my hair when I hugged her anymore." At this, Lily bent down and kissed his forehead, lingering there a while as he searched her face for some sort of judgement. He found none.

"My dad used to massage my hands every morning when I was younger. He used to say it was to get the blood flowing. He explained to me that, if the blood had good access to my fingers, then I would be able to write faster than anyone in my class." James closed his eyes when she pulled herself back against the window, not stopping running her hand in his hair. James kept massaging that one hand, bringing the blood from her palm into her fingers, and then from her fingers into her palm, down into her wrist, and up again. Over and over again he rubbed, making sure to come into contact with every centimetre of her hand. When someone gave him a massage and they left out a place of wherever they were tending (such as his back), James felt lopsided for a week. He, therefore, assumed that everyone else felt oddly lopsided and always made a point to rub every part of the body part he was in charge of, such as a back, shoulders, or hand. That was most likely why his mother loved it when he gave her shoulders a rub.

"When I turned thirteen, my dad stopped. I didn't tell him too, though, he just…sort of did. I guess what with me developing into a woman, perhaps he felt uncomfortable or something, but I never told him to stop. It's odd because I loved his hand rubs, but I also felt that…maybe it'd be better if it were someone else rubbing my hands. Not that I didn't feel comfortable around my dad or anything, And it's not like he ever did anything inappropriate, but it's just…I don't know. It's like you said; there comes a time in a person's life when they no longer see their parents' hugs or small gestures of affection as crucial to their survival, and rather, they begin to look for those things in others."

"It feels better when it's you," he added after a while. He really truly didn't know how to explain it. He had never felt more humbled and loved when his mother had hugged him, but it wasn't the same kind of comfort he felt when Lily did. "Not that I don't like it when Mum hugs me, but it's just I look forward to your hugs more so than I do my mother."

"Hmm," Lily rested her hand on James' shoulder. He let go of her other hand and got to work on that one. "It's weird."

"What is?"

"Growing up. Everything changes, like the way we see our parents and things, and it's just…weird. I know I want to be an adult and all, but there's something about being a teenager that's rather…"

"Comforting in its familiarity."

Lily sighed. "Exactly." He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on them. "Are you at all scared about this year, James?"

Resuming the massage, James shook his head slightly. "No."

He felt her heart skip a beat. He smiled to himself. So he had caught Lily Evans off guard! "How could you not?"

James blushed slightly, realising how childish and stupid what he was about to reveal to her would sound. "It's a thing that I have with the guys. We call it the Rule of Train. You see, whatever the train ride is like before we get to Hogwarts is how the year at Hogwarts will be." He decided to go on, judging she wanted him to from the lack of her response. "It's fool-proof. Second year, I fell asleep, Sirius read a magazine, Remus sat on the floor and played solitaire and Peter slept as well. Second year was boring as hell. Last train ride home after second year, I lit myself on fire, Sirius hexed his mouth so it would grow huge, Peter screamed like a hare in a trap and Remus cursed like we'd never believe possible: summer between second and third year was amazing! We had to go to the Ministry to beg for forgiveness for our stupidities. We were caught expanding on an illegal something that was already there, and naturally, everyone thought it was us who had done it but anyway. Third year train ride to Hogwarts was fascinating. I discovered so many things, like secret compartments and things as such. It was the first time Sirius got asked out by a girl, although it was more like the first, second and third girl. I found a Quidditch magazine, and Remus found a turtle with three legs he later named Triene. Peter found a mirror. Third year at Hogwarts: Sirius officially became the 'hunk of the school', Remus realised he had three very good mates, Peter began to lose weight and I made the Quidditch team. Not the mention the food trolley spilled in our compartment on the way home for Chrsitmas…Need I go on?"

"So what will this year be like?" It was a test, James was sure. She was testing him, she was waiting for him to say something like, 'uneventful' or 'boring'.

"Comforting. Amidst all the craziness, like the meeting, I am able to lay back on you and feel complete ease. It's going to be an interesting yet comfortable year."

He heard her heart beating evenly, the lub-thub almost hypnotic to him. "You're not disappointed that it's not going to be one of those superly overly eventful ye-"

A loud crack and bang issued from beyond the door to their compartment. Lily immediately pushed James up so that she could tend to the matter straight away. James was more relaxed about it, slowly throwing his legs over the edge of the seat, standing purposefully and walked up to Lily. She was scolding someone for causing mayhem. James stared at the ingenuity of their compromising position. Then he recognized their faces. His stomach sank. Sirius, Remus and Peter had been caught doing something James had instructed them to do. Although it had been Sirius' plan, James had been the one to engineer it and now…now it was up in ruins.

"Lily," James interjected, feeling God-awful that he had been unable to come up with a good plan, "they weren't doing anything wrong."

Lily rounded on him, eyes glowing a fierce green. "Are you challenging me, Potter?" she spat, "Challenging the better judgement of someone who's been a Prefect since fifth year?"

"Don't you think Remus has the same judgement? He's been a Prefect –"

"He has you as a friend! It completely cancels out any good judgement he may have!"

"Hey!" Remus stood, wiping explosive powder from the seat of his pants and his robes. "I resent that comment."

James shot Remus a reassuring look. Remus caught on, turned to Sirius and Peter, whispered something, and they all stood and left. Sirius, about to walk into his compartment, turned his head around ever so slightly, smirked at James, glared at Lily, and closed the door.

The little sparkles in the corner of the corridor made James realise that Lily was still arguing with him. "Uhh, Lily," he said, "let's continue this in the –"

"I can't believe you'd still be defending them –" James droned her out. He kept his eyes on the sparkles, knowing full well the implications of what it meant that there were sparkles at all. He took her by the arm, pulling her back into their compartment, stuck his head out momentarily to instruct all students to go back into their compartments, but to keep their blinds open, and closed the door.

"Watch." Lily, seemingly surprised that James would completely ignore her ranting, actually clasped her mouth shut and waited after James to explain himself.

He didn't need to. The singing monkey, turtle, frog and horse that had resulted from a silent explosion, began to run up and down the train faster than the speed of sound, so that they covered every part of the train simultaneously. They sang a song about Hogwarts, though not the same song the children knew, about how first year and second year is really a year to find your mates, third year is meant to find someone of interest, to find out which of your mates are true, fourth year is to make sure the teachers know you're learning things outside of the classroom (like how to conjure a nice bogey ball) but still neglecting the stuff they deem as important. Fifth year, the animals went on to explain, was really a year of illusions; the teacher wanted to make you believe it was an important year on which the rest of your life would be based, but that the O.W.L.s were really no big sweat, and that anyone who stressed out would prematurely turn grey. However, they went on, fifth year is a year of discovery: the time when you embark on your first adventure, the year most girls mature, the year most boys de-mature, "The year you realise the girl you want wants the giant squid," chanted the horse. If anyone had any doubt as to who the horse represented, all doubt was officially cleared.

Sixth year, they all explained, was a year of sacrifice, for you learned to sacrifice precious homework time to go out and play outside, meander about the school grounds as it is in sixth year that you realise just how big Hogwarts really is, yet you have never taken the time to explore its vastness. Sixth year was the year your friends needed you most, the year it finally hits you that there isn't much time left to be free of those things that make your parents' foreheads wrinkle; the year you realise there is only two years left before you leave the ever-protectful wings of Albus Dumbledore, the year your realise that, at the end of next year, you're free game.

Seventh, the animals explained, was the year of truth, of finality, of sports. Seventh year was a time to show to the rest of Hogwarts what you had always wanted to do but never really found the time (or rather made the time) to do them. (Of course, this was a precaution to anyone who was reading into the song that whoever had pulled this off would be pulling quite a few more things before the term is over.) Seventh was the year that made it all worthwhile. Seventh year, they guaranteed, would be the best of all.

They ended the song with a little dance, an adjusted version of the Hogwarts theme song, equally praising Hogsmead, and an explosion that resulted in candies if anyone wasn't convinced that Hogsmead was the best thing to hit Hogwarts students since Hogwarts.

James and Lily stood in stony silence. James probably felt more uncomfortable than she did, at least he figured he did. Then Lily smacked his arm and enveloped him in a tight hug. "You're all mad, you are! Mad and genius!"

"Why, thank you," he replied in the most egotistical voice he could muster.

She slapped his arm again, still tightly pressed up against him from the embrace. "I think," she spoke as he pulled her down on top of him as he sat down on the seat, "judging by the Rule of Train, that this year is going to be the best one yet." James kissed her head. His heart was beating out of control.

"You can be sure of that," he reassured her as the meaning of her words found its way into his long term memory. The best train ride Lily has ever had is the one she spent with me.

Please Review. It means more to me than you can imagine, and when I get feedback from those who read my stories, as corny as it sounds, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and makes me want to write faster, update quicker, and actually stimulates brain activity (in other words, encourages plot bunnies).

Thanks!

Percephone