Author notes: It's best if you've read my chaptered story She Had the Perfect Life before this, but you'll live if you haven't. All you need to know is that David is James's twin and Rose and Mary are Lily's slightly younger sisters – the connections are Rose/David, Unresolved Sexual Tension between Sirius and Mary, and James loves Lily who's dating Severus intensely. Sounds terribly cheesy and clichéd? Oh, it is, never fear. But consider it an adventure!

Just as a point of interest – this has been a WIP for...a really long time. As in over two years.

Disclaimer: To quote a certain Firelocks:

JKR
She's our gal,
If she won't write it,
We sure shall!

Otherwise, this was all entirely inspired by Arabella's Down From the Tree: Consequences. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.

Mischief Managed

'Cause we're all to blame;
We've gone too far,
From pride to shame
We're trying so hard,
We're dying in vain,
We want it all,
Everyone, don't we all?
- Sum 41"We're All to Blame"

Even Muggles, in their legends, know of the supernatural strength – and speed – of werewolves.

A blur of fur and all-too-vulnerable human skin – a flash of movement as two boys leapt simultaneously.

How many more…how many were spared by the slight lifting of Fate's finger?

Screams – the sharp wooden snapping of a wand – blood spills, and in the end everything is still.

It had all been discovered early in the morning, so it was a simpler matter than it might have otherwise been to lock the students in their houses. All four of the bodies were in the hospital wing. The one best off was badly bruised and suffering a concussion. One was unconscious, under the influence of a sleeping draught, a couple of deep but not serious cuts bandaged. Another was calling the most attention, with half of the staff crowding around. It was too dangerous to even transport him to St. Mungo's at the moment.

One was left completely alone with a sheet pulled entirely over him.

The students had been given no explanation. There was simply no time. There were emergency wards for cases like this that prevented even entry and exit through the windows. Each house crowded in their respective common rooms, theorizing, asking why. They peered outside, as though hoping to see the answer written on the grounds.

Of course, it was Gryffindor that had the most clues.

Lily sat by Rose, twisting a quill compulsively. Her hands would be shaking if they weren't moving. Her eyes were fixed on the boys' staircase, and she silently swore at Sirius for the hundredth time for being the coward that he was. Come down and face us. Tell us where the hell they are, what happened last night… The quill snapped in her hands. She looked down at it blankly. Normally, she would be upset at the waste. But this wasn't a normal time, and her mind didn't even register that she had broken a writing utensil.

Beside her, Rose was sunk in the sofa and a strange kind of lethargy. Mary had also gone upstairs to her dorm, with a mutter that the room was too crowded and to get her if McGonagall came back. Peter had followed Sirius upstairs, and Lily hated him too for it.

No one was playing chess or cards or doing homework. They were huddled in groups of various sizes, every voice low. The older students sat in the chairs and sofas; the younger years were forced to find places on the floor. They often glanced towards Lily and Rose, but only a few actually went up to them and asked what they knew. Lily would shake her head, staring at the rug beneath her feet.

She twisted and bent the pieces of the quill now, black ink staining her hands in spots as her fingers were almost twitching. They were so stupid. How could have she ever let them do it. So dangerous.

Around noon, six house-elves appeared in the common room carrying stacks of plates. Nearly everyone got to their feet, crowding them, but the elves shook their head apologetically as they bustled around. Lily and Rose, neither having moved from their places on the sofa, watched as the elves passed plates around and the sandwiches that appeared on them.

Many, including the prefects, tried to interrogate the house-elves. "What happened? Why can't we go out? Isn't Professor McGonagall coming? Look, I just want to send an owl -"

But it was apparent that the elves were bound to oaths of silence. They did seem sorry, shaking their heads and bowing or curtsying helplessly as they passed out plates, and finally one by one disappearing with a crack.

Lily and Rose left their plates untouched. A dorm mate of Mary's went up to her room, but came down alone.

A few hours later, Professor McGonagall came in.

The Gryffindors all started, most standing, though strangely, none now called out questions. Lily and Rose sat up on the edge of the couch, staring. Rose's hand slipped over Lily's, and they clenched.

Professor McGonagall seemed very much older than she had appeared in class just yesterday. The skin on her face was taut, no longer looking so much as stern as exhausted and weary. She looked around the room as though searching for someone. "Where is Sirius Black?"

The tone of the question and the use of Sirius's full name seemed to increase everyone's fear. Lily and Rose's nails dug into each other's hands. There was a pause, and finally a fifth-year prefect ran up the stairs.

Not another word was spoken until the sound of footsteps sounded on the boys' stairs. The entire room was turned to see Sirius, their much-adored comedian and troublemaker, descend.

His face sent a cold chill through Lily's body. She had never seen Sirius look like that – every bit of his confidence, arrogance gone. His face was as white as McGonagall's, but contrary to hers, he looked much younger than usual. Anyone who might have wanted to protest Sirius's innocence in whatever had happened was unable to: whoever saw his face saw his guilt.

Professor McGonagall watched him approach without a sign of emotion on her face. The first and second years sitting on the floor moved out of his path. He stopped in the middle of the room, facing her, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. But McGonagall looked away, to where Lily and Rose were. "You two, also, and your sister and Mr. Pettigrew."

Peter suddenly appeared from where he had been standing on the stairs. His face held none of Sirius's guilt, though he was also pale. A girl prefect nearly tripped as she hurried up her stairs, and returned momentarily with Mary behind her.

Sirius did not turn to look at her. Mary stared at him for a moment, then at McGonagall, and crossed the room to stand by Rose.

"All five of you, please," said Professor McGonagall, and turned to step out of the common room. Sirius, Peter, Lily, Rose, and Mary followed.

Without explanation McGonagall began walking. Lily glanced at Sirius and Peter. It seemed that Peter didn't know anything more than she did. Certainly, the bond between Marauders, especially when they were in trouble, was gone. Sirius met no one's eye.

Their destination grew into a horrible certainty in Lily's mind: the hospital wing. She wasn't the only one who knew it either, judging from the sound of Peter's breath, which was coming in and out a rate that could nearly be considered hyperventilation.

McGonagall never turned to face them until they reached the door of the hospital wing. Turning, she looked directly at Sirius and said, "You stay outside."

If it was possible, he seemed to blanch further, but gave no answer. The professor turned again, opening the door of the hospital wing and letting Lily, Mary, Rose, and Peter inside, then shutting it again behind her. By the pressure Rose was exerting on Lily's hand, and the bloodless color of her face, Rose was close to fainting.

The bed at the far end of the room had a curtain pulled around it. There were two visibly occupied beds, both closer to the door. Even from where they stood, Lily could immediately tell who they were: James and Remus.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Slughorn stood on the far side of Remus's bed, talking very quietly. McGonagall approached them, never looking back. Lily, Rose, Mary, and Peter hesitated, then walked together toward the occupied beds.

At first glance, both boys appeared to be asleep. When they got closer they saw, however, that while Remus's eyes were closed and he appeared to be in a very deep sleep, James's eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling as he lay still.

Peter moved closest. "James?"

James blinked, and his head turned a fraction of an inch to look at them.

Just as Lily had never seen Sirius look like he did in the common room, she had never seen James look as he did now, lying on the hospital bed: utterly devoid of all emotion, his face entirely blank.

It was Lily who first moved, dropping to her knees by the side of the bed. She searched out his hand in the sheets and squeezed it. "James."

He pulled his hand out of her grasp – gently, with no haste, but he did it all the same. Stunned, and frightened more than ever, she didn't reach for it again.

"Mr. Potter." Lily had never heard Professor McGonagall say his name so softly; she turned her head to see her standing by the end of his bed. "If you are feeling well enough…your friends would like to know what happened."

He looked at her, and the first emotion crossed his face – anger. Lily thought for a moment he would speak, but he didn't.

"If you are feeling well enough," McGonagall repeated.

Slowly, he bent his arms so his hands were braced against the bed, and lifted himself into a sitting position, wincing visibly as he did. Lily saw white gauze wrapped around his left upper arm. Quickly, Rose grabbed a nearby pillow and moved to set it behind his back; he leaned forward slightly so she could.

McGonagall went back to speak again with Madam Pomfrey while James drew up his knees and circled his arms around them. Rose sat down in a chair next to the bed. Hesitantly, Lily sat on the end of his bed, and Peter moved to the other side to sit next to her. Mary remained standing.

James did not speak, not for a long time. His gaze had dropped to his knees, and he didn't move. No one said anything to try to make him speak.

Lily's attention moved from him to Remus in the next bed. His face was missing much of its color, but she could perceive his chest rising and falling, very slowly, very slightly.

Eventually, Professor McGonagall, Professor Slughorn, and Madam Pomfrey fell silent, and left through Madam Pomfrey's office. Though alone now, still none of those around James's bed spoke for several minutes. But at last, James shifted and raised his eyes.

"Where's Sirius?" His voice was slightly hoarse.

"McGonagall told him to wait outside," said Peter softly.

James stared at him. "Outside – here?"

Looking faintly apprehensive, Peter nodded.

James turned his head to stare at the door, as though he could see Sirius through it – but after a moment, he dropped his head again. There were a few more minutes of silence, with no one moving, and then James leaned his head back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

"There's no way to explain this," he whispered, seeming more to himself than them. Almost instinctively, Lily held her breath to make sure she heard him. James let out a breath and continued, in a monotone, "Last night…Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow. As a – prank. Then he told me and David. We went after Snape." He closed his eyes. "Snape is dead. David was moved to St. Mungo's a few hours ago."

Lily's heart was thudding against her chest. She was acutely aware of everything around her, but – this was impossible. It couldn't be true. It was too terrible to be true. No, no…

She looked at Rose. Rose's eyes were wide and very round – her lips parted and white. She stared, unblinking, at James.

Rather wildly, Lily looked around at the others. Peter had not changed color at all – he seemed to be in the same state of disbelief Lily was in. Mary's lips were parted, wider than Rose's, looking as though someone had struck her hard in the face, her hand clutching the bed frame. Back to James – he had not moved from where he sat with his head back, eyes closed.

Snape. Snape is dead. Something contracted tightly in Lily's chest. If Severus was dead...she was alone. No one would sympathize with her, she was alone. Snape is dead.

Her breathing erratic, Lily pushed herself off of the bed, tripping as she tried to step away. Mary seemed to come to life and reached for her arm – Lily jerked violently away.

"No!" Lily's voice had a hysterical pitch. "Don't touch me – don't any of you touch me –" She pressed her palms to her forehead, gasping nearly to the point of sobs. "Oh, God." She turned and walked blindly out the door, where she came face to face with – Sirius.

"You –" Lily felt an urge to laugh. A small part of her mind wondered if this was what it was like to go mad. If this had been any other time, she would have been shocked by Sirius's expression, which was now completely frightened. But this was not any other time.

Lily shoved him against the wall, still on the verge of laughing out loud. "You got what you wanted, Sirius."

"Lily –"

"Your prank worked!" She stepped in closer, near his face. Her voice shook. "Severus is dead, Sirius! He's dead!" Grabbing the front of his robes, she pulled him forward, then slammed him against the wall again.

"Lily –" Sirius was shaking his head desperately. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean –"

"Shut up." She pulled her wand out from her robes and pointed it into the curve of his neck. She had no idea what she was doing, but she wanted to make him understand what he did, how she was hurting now, how everyone was going to hurt.

Sirius's grey eyes looked directly into hers, more exposed and open than she had ever seen them. Several seconds passed, with Lily breathing hard, hand tight on her wand, and Sirius making no move to defend himself or pull away.

"Do it," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

With those words, everything that had spun into a whirl since James's words, began to slow down again. Lily stared into Sirius's face. "No," she said quietly, and lowered her wand. "James will do it for me." She let go of his robes and stepped away. "But if I see you again, I will kill you."

She turned and walked away, wand still in hand, to where Professor McGonagall would take her away.

The moment after the door slammed shut behind Lily, Mary lost the strength in her knees, and would have fallen to the floor, but Peter grabbed her arm so she fell heavily onto the bed.

Rose pressed her face into her hands tightly. James opened his eyes again, though they remained focused on the ceiling.

Peter stood up, looking baffled. He pushed a hand through his hair. "Sirius…" He said the name with amazement, almost tinged with a laugh as he shook his head. "Oh, Sirius." He walked over to Remus's bed, looking down on him.

"He's a dead man." Mary's hands were on her knees, seeming to brace herself. Her tone was emotionless.

Peter touched Remus's arm. "He was always capable of it…is Remus all right, James?"

A few seconds passed before James answered. "Physically…he has a concussion." A terrible pause: no one asked how he got the concussion. James swallowed. "He'll wake up."

"And when he does?" Mary whispered, her voice choked.

No one answered. The silence was broken by a half-strangled sob from Rose, who still had not lowered her hands from her face. Peter's hand had clenched around the edge of Remus's sheets, his face clearly struggling not to break down as well. James stared up blankly, his hands laced together tightly.

Lily was taken to a quiet room by Professor McGonagall. She sat blankly on the couch, said little to the professor, and did not move once her head of house left, but stared as James was doing in the hospital wing, her own arms folding a pillow to her chest, clenching it to a painful degree.

Rose and Mary were taken to another room. Peter was left with James.

No one knew where Sirius was.

There was some sort of announcement made to the school. None of the group was there to hear it. But the school had been released from the houses, though no one was allowed in the hospital wing. The announcement, made by Dumbledore, spoke of a terrible accident. No names were given out, and Dumbledore confirmed a student had been moved to St. Mungo's, and that other students were not yet ready to rejoin their classmates. But it was all too easy to look around and see the empty seats.

Remus woke up the following night.

The first conscious sense he was aware of was something beyond a headache – a heaviness in his head that affected his whole body. The lights were dim. He didn't try to move anything but his eyes. They weren't quite all the way open, but he looked from left to right, making out shapes, flickering candles.

Remus took a moment to become accustomed to what he was seeing, then tried moving his head, only an inch, to the side. Immediately he took in something new – Lily was sitting in a chair by his bedside, her legs drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around them. She was watching him. The expression on her face was terrible – like her father had died.

"Lily…" It pushed him to attempt speech, and her name came out sluggish, but intelligible enough. He tried as well to move more, to pull himself up, some way to get a clearer view of her.

"Don't move," she said quietly, and he realized how bright her eyes were. She was about to cry, though he certainly wouldn't have been able to tell by her voice. "You have a concussion."

He did lay still, though this was more in an effort to remember why he had a concussion. But there was nothing. He couldn't even remember what he remembered last. "What hap –"

"Don't," Lily said again, and now the tears began, two of them falling. She moved closer to his bed and took one of his hands in hers, rubbing it with her thumb and staring into his face as though she was remembering him one last time before he was going to die. It was unnerving, besides the terrible, cold feeling that something horrible had happened, and he didn't know what. Remus tried to move again, more urgently this time, into a sitting position.

"Lily, tell me what –"

"No. Please don't. Don't ask." She was crying in such a strange way, tears running one after another down her face, but her voice wasn't shaking at all, and she was still. "Don't ask, Remus. Don't."

And he couldn't. Not when she asked like that, looking so broken – no, shattered. Looking at him like he was something beautiful that was about to be destroyed. It scared him, scared him past the point of being scared, until he felt frozen, but he couldn't ask her again. Couldn't ask her to tell him. So he let her hold his hand and rub it. She was shaking her head slightly.

"Don't ask."

They sat together through time immemorial, and Remus came to realize why she was looking at him like she was. This was the end of something, something was ending in his life, and it would never be the same again. He didn't know what happened, and Lily wasn't going to tell him because she wanted to preserve, save who he was as long as she could. He had a great sense of this, and that his life was about to end, if not physically, then in every other way possible, and then probably physically too. It was very surreal, to be conscious of all of that, to be still and aware of what was about to happen, how things were never going to be the same again.

Professor Dumbledore came in to talk to Remus alone the following morning. Dumbledore had a reputation for knowing what to say in almost any situation, but this one took all of his wisdom. He spoke to Remus with all the insight he could find, with every bit of reason, so earnestly that he felt his own emotion rising, and he was forced to stop in order to regain his control, for he knew to show it would be a mistake.

It was not enough. Two days later, just before dawn, Remus John Lupin got out of bed, opened the window of the hospital wing that was five floors above the ground, and stepped out.

After his death, the situation spiraled quickly.

Sirius was gone from Hogwarts. The announcement was made only to James, Peter, Rose, Lily, and Mary. They were able to discern that Dumbledore had found him, wherever he had been, had talked to him, and had him sent home. It was unclear whether or not he was actually expelled, but no one doubted that it was the best thing to do. James had moved back to his dormitory, but still almost never spoke and spent all of his free time sitting in the window in the dorm room, staring out at the grounds. He had gone to visit David at the hospital once, and didn't go again. Classes had resumed after the first day, but Lily, Rose, Mary, Peter, and James were exempt. Instead, they each had to meet with Dumbledore individually, for an hour each day.

A funeral service for Severus Snape and Remus Lupin was held on Saturday on the Hogwarts grounds, though both were buried back in their home towns. James, Peter, and Mary cried during it. Lily never said a word or shed a tear throughout it, and Rose, crying herself, stood by her side throughout it, clutching her hand as though afraid she might lose her if she let go.

The next day, Lily left Hogwarts, slipping away so quietly that only her sisters knew she was going and even then they couldn't tell the exact hour that she left. An owl, however, arrived for them every morning at breakfast. Then James's parents came for him, explaining to Dumbledore that it was only for the rest of the year, but they had to have him home now, with everything and everyone so unstable. Dumbledore, of course, agreed with them completely that it was best.

When the school year was officially over, Rose and Mary went to visit Lily daily in the small, slightly shabby flat she had acquired. She had a couple jobs, putting her charms and potions talents to use, and seemed to be doing well, or as well as she liked. Their parents fretted, even more anxious after the terrible sequence of events, but Lily had come of age and was free to live alone if she liked. Her sisters persuaded her to come back home for dinner occasionally, though they were strangely quiet, even if Lily was unfailingly polite throughout.

In August David came home. The Healers said he would be able to walk on his own in less than a year, and would completely recover over time, if one didn't count the scars or the understanding that his best friend had committed suicide in part over him.

School opened again in September, and Rose, Mary, and Peter went back, because what would be the point in not? James stayed home after all, of his own choice, to be with his brother, though he told Dumbledore, when he visited their home, that he and David would be studying together.

During the week that marked the one-year anniversary, Lily opened the door of her flat to find James, who did not look much different than he had last she saw him, at Christmas. He held up a case of wine, and Lily moved aside to let him in.

Fetching a couple glasses from the kitchen, she came back to indicate the couch with a gesture, and James sat down, setting the case on the floor in the middle. Lily settled down on the opposite end of the couch, drawing her feet up, and held out her glass as James opened the first bottle with a rather expert gesture.

Lily herself hadn't done much drinking over the past year – she saw no point in it, had no desire to forget Severus or Remus or what had happened, but she would certainly oblige James now, as one who knows how terrible and lonely pain can be, and how even a little appeasement can mean so much.

The first half hour passed in silence, with Lily studying James idly out of the corner of her eye. No, he hadn't changed since Christmas, but his guard seemed to be down now – he wasn't trying so hard for everyone's sake. He wasn't pretending to be who he had been a year ago – and Lily wondered how anyone could be fooled now, when there was clearly nothing left of that James Potter. She wondered if anyone who had met him a year ago might recognize him now, apart from his build and messy hair. His face had been so clearly carefree – full of that naïve arrogance. No trace, no trace of it now…she wondered if strangers ever thought he might be a delinquent. Or maybe the alcohol was just exaggerating things.

She took another drink and asked, very careful not to slur the words, "How is David doing?"

James became still, fingers resting around the neck of the bottle of wine he was holding. "He can walk little distances now. He thinks he wants to try flying, soon. It mostly depends on whether his arms are strong enough to hold the broom…."

Lily swallowed, keeping her eyes down, almost afraid to hear more. Ever since David had regained consciousness, everyone's worry about his emotional health had been a notch or two above their worry about his physical health. Lily had not heard about any crises – she figured only James would know if there were any – and whenever she saw David herself, he was very quiet, smiling at her, seemingly tranquil. His injuries gave him an excuse not to talk much. Lily knew Rose wrote him at least a letter a day from Hogwarts and had been as close to him as James when she was home.

James began again, rather unexpectedly, "Sometimes – I think David's stronger than all of us."

Lily breathed a little, shifting her hold on her glass. "He also has…both you and Rose, still with him constantly." Not really constantly for Rose, since she was at school, but she felt James knew what she meant. "That must help him too."

A pause, then James asked, "How are you doing?"

She could feel his eyes on her. "I'm getting my Masters in potions in a year. Slughorn found someone willing to apprentice me though I don't have my NEWTs…." It was work, a lot of hard work – helped, of course, though sometimes she thought she hated it more than she didn't. It reminded her too much of how she and Severus used to work on potions, and every time she got stuck she wanted his help – and him too, just him – so desperately. But she wouldn't quit now, because once she got the mastership things would be much better set.

James didn't inquire further. He'd given her the opportunity to talk, she could use it if she liked. He looked around the flat again, and realized for the first time that there were no pictures.

Lily held out her glass again, and as James filled it he noticed how bony her fingers and wrist were – they struck him as both sharp and elegant. With a quick gesture she tossed back what he had just given her, and he wondered if she was really still seventeen.

A few more minutes passed, James watching Lily as her head was bent over her glass, short hair – cut right to her chin, same as it was at Christmas – hiding her face. She seemed tense now – then she looked up, at him, her hair falling back as for the first time over the past year she asked, "Have you…heard anything from…Sirius?"

James looked down into his glass as though it contained all the history and memories and feelings that he had ever had for Sirius Black. If they were not there, then they were somewhere else, because he could no longer access them. "Regulus told Mary that he never came home. They don't know."

Another hour passed, and then three. In the silence, Lily lost sense of time and place. There was no clock ticking on the wall, just the clink of the bottles and glasses and their breathing. She was gradually becoming disconnected with her body, as well – glad she was leaning back, otherwise she was quite sure she would be in danger of falling, as her lower body was quite gone. Her arms were lost as well, but she still had her hands – one around her ankle (which could not be hers) and the other holding her wineglass.

She fell into a daze with her eyes open, gazing at the ceiling and the shapes moving over and in it as she felt her breath move in and out and listened to James's, until a different, harsh sound, gradually growing louder, split the air around her: James laughing.

"We were…we were the Marauders – do you remember, Lily? Can you remember it? We were the Marauders, we, we jinxed the chalkboards and helped Peeves out and shit like that and it was a prank, that's what we did, it was just another prank….

"It was a prank."