The Life and Times of Lily Evans
by le loup deguise en brebis

Author's Note: This is a Marauder Era fanfiction from the perspective of Lily Evans. I accept all reviews, including flames. If you see anything that is not strictly cannon, please inform me, I have tried my best though I still reserve some artistic license on my interpretation.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or affiliated characters, and I am seeking no profit from this story.

Week One: First Days of Seventh Year
September 1, 1977
The Hogwart's Express let out a shrill whistle as I walked further down the platform. The train had arrived on time at Hogsmeade Station, but there had been a large pile-up of people as soon as everyone began to disembark. There had been a rather complex display of filibuster fireworks that were generated, at least in my opinion, by the quartet of boys who stupidly refer to themselves as the Marauders.

It was due to this incident that I was forced to steer traffic toward the horseless carriages. My attempts at herding caused much displeasure for the stragglers who were more interested in the colorful displays rocketing around the platform and in the air above. There were several prefects aiding me in my efforts, but I noted the Head Boy was suspiciously absent.

Several minutes later, I had herded a group of angry fourth years into a carriage and jumped into the last one. It was empty, which was to be expected, and I sat in quiet thought as it trundled its way up to the school.

Seventh year, the culmination of my magical education and I had made Head Girl. It was the fulfillment of all those dreams established 6 years ago in the lake crossing. The one problem that had appeared unexpectedly was that James Potter had been named Head Boy. I had not anticipated this even in my wildest contingencies. Remus Lupin who had been my fellow Gryffindor prefect, and dear friend, for the last two years had seriously shirked in his responsibilities; I had not even entertained the possibility of him being Head Boy, so to name Potter who had not even been a prefect and was a known mischief-maker was unthinkable!

I had been so proud when I walked into the prefects' compartment earlier today. I had an organized set of notes of what we needed to discuss in the event that I forgot anything. No sooner had I entered the compartment then a coy voice inquired, "How's it going Evans?"

"I asked how's it going Evans?" a voice persisted rattling me from my musings. There, holding the door of my carriage and offering his hand, the very picture of gallantry, was James Potter.

"It is not going anywhere Potter," I replied stiffly and stepped out ignoring his hand. To my surprise none of his friends were waiting behind him. He was by himself; which was not a common occurrence.

"Would you like to walk with me?" He asked gesturing at the steps of the school.

"As we are inevitably going to end up in the same place I don't see how I can refuse."

We walked in a rather companionable silence up the steps only catching sight of the fleeting backs of our fellow students. Though we did not speak it was a comfortable feeling especially since he did not query me on whether or not I would date him.

"See you in the common room Evans," Potter said when we entered the brightly lit hall. The first years had not entered the hall yet. When Potter and I did enter everyone looked at us expectantly as though we were hiding the first years under our robes. Under the scrutiny of so many eyes I ducked my head a bit and went over to my roommates.

No sooner had I sat down than I was surrounded by the buzz of gossip. The seventh and sixth year girls had always gotten along quite well and they did not even notice my presence.

"You remember ol' Molly Prewett?"

"She's the one that ran off and got married in her seventh year right? She married Arthur Weasley didn't she?"

"She's pregnant again, with twins this time," Emmeline Vance said conspiratorially. Most of the girls burst into giggles. Molly Prewett had caused quite a scandal by eloping with a man over winter break of her seventh year though it had been nearly 13 years since the incident people still talked about it. I tuned them out and eavesdropped on someone else's conversation.

"What about that bugger Docherty? They get the FA cup and Man U cans him for screwing around with that guy's wife! I hear he is in talks with Derby now," a muggle-born sixth year said beside me. His friend nodded his head sympathetically though he had no idea what the boy was talking about. I can't say that I was disappointed when I came home to receive the news. Anything deprecating to Manchester United was okay by me. It should be noted that I am an avid sports follower whether it is football or quidditch.

A fourth year girl further down the table was sniffling into her napkin her friends, though exasperated, tried to comfort her.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked immediately concerned.

"Don't worry. She's been like this all month. Elvis Presley died," her friend with blonde hair whispered fretfully and I watched as the brunette collapsed into a sobbing fit. I widened my eyes amazed that a girl could be so affected by some American rock star.

The talk died down as the first years entered the hall. Most shuffled their feet shyly or gazed about the hall in horror or amazement. I felt a pang in my chest as I realized that this would be the last sorting that I would see. The sorting hat started its song chastising the school for not heading its past warnings about inter-house unity and listing off the qualifications of each house.

The thought of inter-house unity was an interesting concept, but one glance between the Slytherin table, Sirius Black, and the daggers they were shooting at each other made it not to difficult to discern the implausibility of the whole thing.

Professor McGonagall looking as stern as ever asked the first years to queue up in front of her, and she began to call them up one by one. I didn't really note any of the names as my stomach was protesting the delay, but I at least tried to look attentive.

The Sorting passed, and Dumbledore stood and delivered the usual start of term notices. Thankfully they were short and the food appeared looking as appetizing as ever. As I ladled gravy onto my mash potatoes I heard the older year girls explode with activity.

"Surely it is an exaggeration," Emmeline whispered. She shot a look at the far end of the table where Potter and his friends sat. They were all talking animatedly and Black was gesturing wildly.

"No, Rita just overheard them from the Ravenclaw table. Black's got a motorbike, a flying motorbike," the sixth year persisted. I didn't believe a word of it; it was one thing to break a rule, but to break laws!

"Did you hear what the Gudgeons did this summer?" a fifth year girl inquired, and with that the subject quickly changed to one of the most insane wizarding families to grace the halls of Hogwarts.

"He nearly lost his eye!""Again!"

If there was one thing I could always find comfort in, it was how frivolous my contemporaries were.

"Hey Lily, do you think Gladys has a shot at Sirius this year?"

"Black doesn't date," I stated for what seemed the seventeenth time. "He would rather spend time with his friends."

Why everyone assumed I knew all about the so-called Marauders I could not even hazard a guess. There were the usual whimsical sighs that accompanied the pronouncement, and I ignored them in favor of bread pudding.

Utterly sated and content I made the slow progress to Gryffindor tower. The prefects would take care of the first years, so there were no responsibilities for me to worry about, or at least until morning.

September 2, 1977
It hadn't made much sense to the teachers to start school on a Friday so the students had been given a three day weekend to settle in before term actually started. I did not pay this idea much heed and awoke at my normal time of 5:45 and began the usual preparation for my classes. That was proofing my homework and revising my books. It could be argued that I study far too much, and this point has been brought up many times, but I have a bit of a phobia of being uninformed.

I find nothing more embarrassing or horrifying then getting a question wrong in class. On the rare occasion that this happens I feel a deep burning shame and begin to get nauseous. So I am forced to go to great lengths to prevent such an incident from occurring.

The sun had begun to rise above the treetops around the lake when Remus Lupin came down the steps fully dressed but hair still mussed from sleep.

"Hello Lily," he said drowsily his eyes not wanting to fully open. In his ruffled state he could be described as little less then adorable. Which I would never tell him because that is not something you tell a seventeen-year-old male.

"Morning Remus," I replied. My potions book was propped on my foot and I was comparing the list of active ingredients to those listed in my essay that was a roll and a half longer then it was supposed to be.

He mumbled something and sat down on the window seat across from me, and leaned his head against the window. A few minutes later he was gently snoring his breath condensing on the cool window. I giggled to myself and went back to my work.

"Remus you were supposed to wake us up!" Black said bounding down the staircase in pajamas and dressing gown. He looked annoyed but not angry. "Ah I see it's Evans fault."

"Whazzit," Remus said jarring awake. He blinked a few times caught sight of me and proceeded to fall asleep on my discarded potions book.

"What did you lot do last night?" I queried of the black haired boy while looking at the dark circles underneath Remus's eyes.

"Us? Nothing. We are innocent as usual. I need to go wake James. I will tell him you wish him a very fond good morning," Black said bounding back up the steps. I then turned my attention back to trying to pry my Potions book out from under the slumbering boy.

After a series of tries I gave up and allowed sleeping dogs to remain in their current state of rest. I reached down to extract my Transfiguration text and work from my satchel when two red haired boys rolled down the steps in an apparent brawl. The older of the two was attempting to fend off the younger and failing miserably due to the smaller boy's bulky build.

"Oi Weasleys break it up!" a voice I was surprised to hear yelled from the boys' staircase. Loping down the steps and with more strength then I gave him credit for pulled the pair apart. The smaller of the two was putting up a grand fight while the older one, who I knew had a name that started with a B, breathed heavily through his bloodied nose. "That's 10 points from Gryffindor a piece! No fighting!"

Still glaring at each other they made their way toward the portrait hole presumably to get to the Hospital Wing.

"Little scamps," Potter said fondly once they had disappeared. "Sibling love at its finest, and how are you this grand morning Miss Evans? Tending to the fallen I see. Poor bloke didn't get a wink of sleep last night. I will be heading down to breakfast."

With that strange turn of events he left the room heading down to the great hall while I sat gob smacked as to what had just happened. Potter behaving responsibly? I must still be asleep and one question still plagued my mind; why hadn't Remus gotten any sleep last night?

I looked down at my friend and was for a moment concerned he was having some sort of fit until he snuffled and rubbed his face against the pages of my book effectively crinkling them, and proceeded deeper into the realms of sleep.

I revised a bit longer, but found my heart to not be in it. I looked at Remus one more time before leaving him to safeguard my books so that I was free to attend the meal that my stomach was so anxiously appealing for.