Oh, Ophelia
"We've lost him."
James Potter's face was sunburnt. He'd grown another two inches and his shoulders had broadened. The untameable disaster that was his hair simultaneously stood up and laid over his eyes, which were framed by broken spectacles. He'd taken a Quaffle to the face days before and hadn't bothered to fix them, though he knew the spell by heart. They added character, so he claimed, and James Potter was always interested in being interesting. The words had been spoken near to his left shoulder but he hadn't heard them at all. His eyes were trained on a group of girls congregating down the platform, all loud laughter and short skirts and flipping hair and what he could only assume was the smell of something sweet and floral and…
"Lily!"
… That was the word he was looking for.
The girl in question had just stepped through the stone pillar that led from their world to the next. Platform 9¾ took them from King's Cross station to the Hogwarts Express, the great scarlet steam engine that shooed them on their merry way towards education, or something of that sort. James was very sure what he attended was a school but rarely used it as such, as he was fairly occupied with the Quidditch pitch and the assorted broom closets.
Lily Evans was not sun burnt but evenly tanned, (of course, he thought bitterly, of course she's perfect). She too had grown, her sweater was a bit tighter, he noted with approval, and her hair was longer, that deep red was loose and wavy past her shoulders. He willed her to meet his gaze but she was focused on the group of girls, grinning and waving and hurrying towards them. Only when he saw what he was looking for did he look away. A wicked smile burst across his features as he turned to acknowledge his own group, three boys of varying height who stared at him skeptically.
"Yes, she's here," the one beside him sighed. He ran a hand through his mop of carelessly disheveled jet black hair. A younger girl walking past him watched in awe as it slid back into place with great ease, momentarily revealing classically handsome features and a permanently pompous smirk.
"She's not just here," James explained excitedly. "She's Head Girl. I can see her badge."
"Oh Jesus fuck…"
"Is that his full name?" inquired the third boy, amused. His shoulders were hunched with equal parts exhaustion and the weight of the books in his arms. Beside him, a portly blonde whose forehead shone with sweat sniggered. The handsome one rolled his eyes, gesturing towards the books.
"Bit of light reading?"
"Trying to regrow some of the brain cells I lost with you prats this summer."
What Moony lacked in traditional cool points he supplemented with well executed and calmly delivered insults, which greatly amused his friends.
"Padfoot, Moony, behave yourselves," James said distractedly, his eyes travelling back to Lily, particularly her skirt. "Perhaps you don't remember that I am your Head Boy and I will dock House points if necessary…."
Padfoot and Moony snorted simultaneously.
"... And as your Head Boy I will enjoy plenty of quality time with the Head Girl…"
"How very exciting for you," Padfoot drawled. "Can't wait to hear all about it. Today Lily breathed in my general direction…."
Moony chimed in. "Today Lily told me told me to sod off…."
The fourth boy giggled. "Today Lily…."
But James paid no mind, as Lily Evans had been the reluctant focus of his affection for the past six years and finally in this, their last year at Hogwarts, she would be forced to devote at the very least a semblance of attention towards him. There could be no go away Potter, no that's enough Potter, only long hours in the Head's offices and romantic walks to Dumbledore's office and the added pressure of being the Heads (they would weather the storm together, of that he was certain). He sighed and dreamily thought of the ride ahead of them, where he and Lily would conduct a prefect meeting in the Head compartment. In his daydream he spoke eloquently, perfectly displaying his leadership, and she would realize with awe that he was the man she'd been searching for all along.
"We've lost him again," said Padfoot, but he was scanning the platform with narrowed eyes, searching the crowd of students and parents chattering loudly amid the steam from the train. "Speaking of the birds, has anyone seen McKinnon?"
Moony frowned and glanced quickly around the platform. "Now that you mention it, no. Wormtail, have you seen McKinnon?"
"No," he said quickly, relieved at his acknowledgement. "Not yet."
They called themselves the Marauders, and they prided themselves on being quite the exclusive club. Like all respectable clubs they came equipped with nicknames, alibis, getaway plans, and their fair share of secrets, none of which were easily divulged. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were well known and critically acclaimed, and they had every intention of ending their seventh year at Hogwarts with a bang. Several, even.
The train sounded from behind them. A group of first years squealed and jumped beside them, scampering towards it. Moony watched them go with a certain fondness before turning to James.
"Well, Head Boy. Lead the way."
You've Been On My Mind Girl, Since The Flood
Sirius Black, fondly known as Padfoot, was not a prefect. Nowhere near it, to be frank. He was, however, very good looking, and he possessed a charm that had every witch in a mile radius nearly fainting at the sight of him. And so, when he bid his dear friends Prongs and Moony farewell at the entrance of the Hogwarts Express's main hall, he passed a group of young witches who flushed red and scurried into the nearest compartment. His ego grew one size.
Lugging their trunks behind them, Sirius and Wormtail made their way down the crowded hall to the back of the train, where the last compartment on the left sat unofficially reserved. They slid into it, grunting, and heaved their trunks inside. Wormtail slid the glass door closed and sighed, easing himself onto the seat. Sirius sat opposite him. He stared absentminded into the hall, watching his fellow students find compartments and slam the doors closed, eager to catch up on the summer's gossip. He enjoyed observing the excitement the opening of fall term brought. It faded so quickly with the onslaught of classes.
"Alright, Black?"
He and Wormtail looked up to see a slim brunette standing in the now open doorway, her almond shaped eyes fixed carefully on Sirius. He grinned at her, folding his arms behind his head as he relaxed into the seat.
"Fantastic. And you, Vance?"
"The same, as always. Have you seen Marlene McKinnon?"
A calculated, carefree frown. "I haven't. I'm not her keeper, you see."
Emmeline Vance knew very well Sirius Black was unaware of the whereabouts of one Marlene McKinnon, but she persevered, on the hunt for a juicy strip of gossip to share with the girls of Gryffindor house.
As if there hadn't been enough to talk about.
"Lily Evans was looking for her."
"Well you tell Evans when I see her I'll send her her way," Sirius said, his voice toeing a dangerous edge though he attempted to remain still. Emmeline, sensing this, smiled sweetly.
"Thanks, mate."
With that she was gone, leaving an air of tension in the compartment Sirius chose to ignore. Wormtail, knowing better, joined him.
"Bitch," he mumbled. Sirius nodded in agreement. "Like we give a damn where McKinnon is."
"Right you are, Wormy. Exploding Snap?"
He pulled a deck of enchanted cards from the pocket of his jeans and they commenced not caring, sliding into cross legged positions on the floor, one thinking about the cards, the other (reluctantly) thinking about McKinnon.
Heaven Help The Fool Who Falls In Love
The thing with Pureblood purity was that there were certain traits each family carried for generations that distinguished them, making their status known. The red hair possessed by the Weasley's, the Potter's lanky build and knack for Quidditch, the Black's sense of superiority paired with storm grey eyes. This made the tidal wave of platinum blonde hair advancing on James all the more recognizable.
"Darling," he greeted her with a sigh. "How I've missed you."
The McKinnons were blonde, bright, and arrogant. Marlene, the youngest daughter, exemplified all of this.
"Still haven't fixed your glasses, I see," she quipped, hands on her hips. She'd been the one to gracefully toss the Quaffle directly into his face. It hadn't been on purpose, but it also wasn't an accident. James had received notice that he would be Head Boy, and not only this, but Quidditch captain, a position she'd had her hopes set on. When the news arrived by owl over the summer, Marlene had locked herself in her bedroom for two days. James had eventually coaxed her out with the promise of a co-captaining position, which would do, but was not what she wanted. "Careful, Captain."
"Don't be so bitter, Marlie," he smiled. His fondness for McKinnon was no secret, she was after all the sister he'd asked for and never received. She'd grown up just over the hill from the Potters, and until very recently had carried the title of honorary Marauder. "Didn't see you on the platform."
"Well, you wouldn't have," she said with a smirk, pulling a familiar, shining piece of cloth from her bag and handing it to him. "Thank you."
"Never tell him I helped you," he muttered as he stuffed his trusty invisibility cloak. "It was for his own good."
"His? What about mine?"
James rolled his eyes. "Don't get me involved in his mess, I have greater matters to attend to."
He nodded his head towards the Heads compartment, which was gradually filling with prefects and already contained a certain flame haired Head Girl.
"You didn't tell her I made Head Boy, did you?"
"And ruin the surprise? I would never…"
"Have I told you lately that I love you?"
"Not nearly enough. Shall we discuss Quidditch tryouts?"
"Did you mean assisted suicide?" he asked with a grimace. "Slim prospects this year."
She nodded gravely. "Choose wisely, Captain. We'll talk later. I'm off to find the girls."
With a swift kiss to his cheek, she started down the hall away from him. There was a peculiar heaviness in his chest he chose to ignore as he watched her go, praying she did not pass the last compartment on the left.
