2.

"James Potter"

Great Hall

It had been precisely three hours and a half since he'd last seen Lily Evans. Not that he was counting—of course he wasn't, that would be utterly ridiculous. Even as his hazel eyes searched the length of the Gryffindor table, he adamantly denied such an accusation.

Peter, a mousy boy and coincidently a Marauder, let out a high-pitched squeak. "Look, Prongs! It's Lily, see? Over there, by the Ravenclaw table!" He exclaimed enthusiastically, jabbing his zealous index finger at a redhead.

Sirius and James examined the figure, before the former drawled unconcernedly: "Don't insult your intelligence, Wormtail. That's Bletchley."

Pettigrew's cheeks heated furiously and he began to twitch nervously in his seat. Sirius grinned amusedly, "Try not to wet yourself. Yeah, she's hot—I'll give you that—but she's a Slytherin."

James nodded gravely. "Definitely a massive turn-off."

When Peter began to splutter, Remus decided to intervene. "Give him a break, guys; he's a nervous wreck as it is. Besides, Prongs, I thought you were looking for Lily."

"Was not."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Was too," he bickered childishly.

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

"Was—"

"SHUT UP!" cried someone from nearby. A seventh year, an attractive girl with lustrous ebony hair and heavily lashed brown eyes was scowling at the four of them. Sirius lifted an eyebrow inquisitively.

Mary Macdonald scooted along the bench, till she was sat beside Peter. "I am trying to eavesdrop on a conversation, and quite bluntly, you're making it difficult." She hissed, leaning forward.

Remus furrowed his brow, crossing over his arms. "And why were you eavesdropping on someone's conversation?" He enquired contemptuously.

"Don't go Lily on me," Mary replied dismissively. She paused, before leaning further forward. "Do you see those two over there? At the end of the table?" She questioned.

James lifted a brow, but averted his attention to a boy and girl sat inconspicuously beside the doors to the Entrance Hall. The girl had luxurious brown hair and wore smooth black robes that seemed to accentuate her slender body. She was currently whispering something in the boy's ears, who seemed to be disregarding every word she said. It was uncanny, James thought, how much the boy resembled him. He too had uncontainable hair and round-shaped spectacles, as well as a slight body.

"He looks like you!" Peter squeaked, having recently recovered from his mortification.

Sirius pursed his lips, casting a distrustful glance at the guy. "That was what I was thinking," he commented slowly.

"Me too!" Macdonald exclaimed. "They slipped in about five minutes ago; Kyra noticed—she has a Potter radar, you know?—ever since I've been attempting to hear what the girl's been saying."

James furrowed his brow, disregarding the reference to a Potter radar. "Erm, may I ask why? Is it a habit of yours, to eavesdrop on people's conversations? If so, I think we ought to be a bit more careful, Padfoot." His mouth spread into an amused grin.

Mary half-laughed, half-scowled, but definitely swatted him on the shoulder. "Oh, be quiet. I don't eavesdrop on everything. I've just never seen them before. I can't deny it, I'm curious. I mean, that bloke's rather dashing, don't you think?"

Remus spoke, dismissing the last comment. "I don't recognise them either. Do you reckon they're transfer students?"

"Don't look very foreign, do they?"

"Shut up, Padfoot."

"What did I—"

"Shh! The first years are coming." Remus hushed.

True to his word, a bunch of queasy-looking eleven year olds trailed past, dragging their feet uncertainly. James examined the expression of the first one with little interest, vaguely registering his nauseous expression. The poor boy looked as if he was about to topple over.

Finally, they reached the front.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Minerva McGonagall declared austerely, with a long roll of yellow parchment that touched the floor.

She began to sort the first years, starting with the nauseous little boy, followed by other nauseous little people.

Sirius snorted amusedly, grabbing the attention of the remaining seventh years. "Look at Vance," he sniggered, gesturing to a camel-haired Ravenclaw, with wide, excitable eyes.

Everyone averted their attention. Mary's eyes squinted, as if she could not quite believe what she was seeing. "W—wait… has she rolled up her skirt?"

James sniggered.

Remus furrowed his brow, looking rather perplexed. "How can you tell? She's sitting down." He questioned.

James chuckled, patting his friend's shoulder. "Mate, look under the table. What do you see?" He managed to ask with a straight face.

"Erm, pink? What is that?"

Sirius leant forward. "Her knickers."

Remus's face flushed a bright red. "O—oh, that's… erm…"

Mary grinned, reaching over the table to pinch Remus on the cheeks. "Aren't you the cutest? Seriously, how do you not have a girlfriend with that adorable face?"

His face only grew hotter, while James grinned crookedly. "You offering, Macdonald?"

Mary shook her head amusedly, nonchalantly admitting: "Well, I would, but I've got a hot date tomorrow afternoon…" She paused, before adding, "Sorry, Remus."

Sirius barked in laughter, which subsequently resulted in the seventh years attempting to act innocent as teachers looked their way.

"If the Gryffindor table is quite finished," McGonagall said through pursed lips, "Then I would like to introduce our two new transfer students," she glanced stiffly at the Headmaster, "Hermione Brocklehurst and Harry Pretrovsky."

All five of the seventh years' necks snapped up, realising that at some stage in their conversation, the two strange students had walked to the front.

"They were previously sorted into the Gryffindor house. They will be joining the seventh years' lessons."

Mary's jaw dropped open, "Is she being serious? They look about twenty!"

"Maybe they are," Remus reasoned.

"And maybe they're not," Sirius disputed, crossing his arms. "If they were twenty, they wouldn't be in seventh year."

"He's right!" Peter chipped in.

"Obviously," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up for a minute, guys," James silenced them. "Is it just me, or they giving us strange looks?"

"Nope, they're staring." Mary commented imperturbably. However, the tone of her voice sounded slightly curious as she asked: "Wonder why?"

"Beats me," Sirius shrugged.

All of them stared collectively at the two students, who appeared to break out of a creepy stupor and hurriedly averted their eyes. James persisted to scrutinize the pair, whose expressions held a strange emotion that he couldn't understand.

He turned away.

"Where's Evans?"

"Remus Lupin"

Corridor

Every student at Hogwarts was currently talking about the new scandal surrounding Lily Evans, and speculation was never a good thing. Already, a number of rumours were floating around. A lot of them portrayed Lily as a drunk or Jocelyn as a jealous loser—these being only a selection of the least eccentric ones.

It was to be expected, however, given that Lily was found unconscious, and Hogwarts was gossip hungry.

However, this was not the only discussion happening at Hogwarts.

The mystery enveloping the new transfer students was practically suffocating in the non-literal sense, of course. The male's uncanny resemblance to James had the Marauders' on edge, for a reason that none of them could place. It was strange, because the boy was virtually the complete opposite of James, preferring to remain undetected in the corner of the Gryffindor common room.

The girl was comparable to the boy in that respect. She too favoured silence over attention, as far as Remus could tell. However, the pair constantly threw glances at the Marauders, as if they couldn't tell. Of course they could tell.

They were the Marauders.

"Oh! Pardon me, Remus!"

Remus was knocked out of his trail of thoughts by a collision. Glancing down, he was greeted by a petite girl with butterscotch-coloured hair and fervent hazel eyes. She was grinning conspicuously, causing Remus to swallow anxiously. It was Kyra Peakes.

Fellow Gryffindor and Gossip Queen of Hogwarts.

"Erm, it's o—okay," Remus assured her, stammering slightly.

Kyra blinked as if his comment had just flew past her brain. It probably had. "I don't suppose you've seen James recently, have you?" She enquired with a nauseating grin, swaying impatiently on the spot.

He'd forgotten about her obsession with his best friend.

Remus managed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't after him. "Oh, yeah. He's in the classroom. You might be able to catch him before Transfiguration."

The moment he spoke it, she skipped off humming a tune, quite abruptly ending their exchange. Not that Remus was protesting, though. Any conversation with Kyra Peakes was not worth having.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Remus resumed his journey down the corridor, clutching his tattered satchel over his shoulder. The door to the Transfiguration classroom was in sight—he was a considerable amount early, though unsurprisingly, James had beaten him there, ever being the enthusiastic Transfiguration student.

He entered the classroom noiselessly, and was greeted by a peculiar sight. Kyra Peakes was sprawled across James's desk, and encircling the pair were pieces of parchment, littered haphazardly on either side. From what Remus could tell, Kyra had shoved James's assignment off the desk when she had sat on it.

At that exact moment, James glanced frantically at the door, and instead, spotted Remus. His hectic expression instantly turned shady. "Remus, you get in here right now!" He hollered.

"Uh, what's bothering you, Prongs?" Remus replied with a shamefaced smile. He slowly made his way towards James' desk, ensuring that he remained as far a distance away from Kyra as possible without appearing impolite. That could lead to horrifying rumours, which spread around Hogwarts like a spitfire.

Remus caught James sending him a rather derisive smile, though he appeared somewhat distressed. "Oh, I don't know, Moony. I guess it could be Kyra tossing my assignment on the floor, as well as her presence on the whole." He paused contemplatively, presumably for dramatic effect. "And probably her existence on top of that."

Remus averted his eyes towards Kyra, with a vaguely apprehensive sensation growing in his stomach. However, luckily, James' words seemed to have fluttered through one ear, and out the next. Remus wasn't even sure why he was anxious in the first place. This happened on a regular basis. He guessed it was because he really didn't want his secrets to be exposed.

"Uhm, right..." Remus replied slowly, returning his attention to James. The boy had knelt down beneath his desk to gather his parchments. The werewolf regarded James curiously. "Why haven't you used your wand, Prongs?"

James' head emerged from under the desk. Kyra giggled girlishly whilst he replied, "I thought I'd try to do things the 'Muggle way', you know?"

A small smirk appeared on Remus' face. "For Lily, I presume?"

Kyra's smile rapidly turned sour. "Why would you try to impress Lily? She's not even interested in you."

James had already disappeared under the desk, but Remus could quite clearly hear his petulant grumbling. Get rid of her.

Remus had to confess that he didn't feel very inclined to do anything that concerned Kyra, especially if that something involved conversation. Then again, he disliked all interaction with the girl, full stop. She had an unnerving ability to read him like a book, and he'd be damned if she ever read one of hisbiggest plot twists. However, it sadly led to the case of Remus' principles, and his principles currently told him that her presence was his damned fault.

Well, he could try at least. He glanced at the girl cautiously. "Kyra…this isn't your classroom, is it?" He questioned out of the blue, though he obviously knew the answer. He could hear James' quiet snigger.

Kyra was still scowling when she lifted her head, so the expression that greeted Remus was a disconcerting combination of bitter and sweet. She replied with a relatively stiff voice. "No, it isn't." She gave Remus an indisputable look. "You wouldn't give me a detention, would you Remus?"

Only because I'm worried of the consequences. He thought despondently. "Erm, no…" Remus replied hesitantly.

James, who had slid back into his seat, stared outrageously at Remus. "Are you serious?" He exclaimed stridently, "You're a prefect! Do it!"

Kyra blinked unconcernedly.

Remus paid no heed to his comments. "What about your own lessons? Your education is quite important, you know."

Now Kyra was also regarding Remus absurdly. "Oh, don't worry about those, Remus. I'm not missing anything important!" Kyra's previously stiff voice had returned to its typical nauseously sweet tone.

Remus had the sudden, overwhelming urge to kick something—preferably the girl that was reclined in front of him, but he could settle for a chair leg if needed be. "I doubt you can stay here though, Kyra." He said, sounding much too beseeching for his own good.

James nodded fervently from his position at the desk.

A wrinkle appeared between Kyra's eyebrows as she stared at Remus confusedly. "Why not? McGonagall can't possibly care that much."

A discomfiting silence loomed over the three. "You obviously don't know her," James said, waving his wand to cast a spell that organised his assignment. So much for the 'Muggle way', Remus thought amusedly. He lifted his eyes briefly, "she'll probably turn you into a toad. Or maybe a cat, so you can keep her company."

"Don't be silly," Kyra giggled, swatting James' shoulder.

James threw her a disbelieving look before adding, "Or give you a thousand detentions." A small smirk found its way on Remus' face.

Kyra twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she scrutinised James' expression. She shrugged her shoulders imperturbably. "McGonagall isn't scary in the slightest—she's just a little, furry cat. Besides, being here with you is worth anything, James."

James dishevelled his hair, frustrated. "A thousand detentions, Kyra." He reiterated slowly for emphasis. "Not even I'm worth that."

"Well, you would do the same." Kyra replied.

He stared at her incredulously. "No, I wouldn't. Get lost."

Kyra blinked, choosing to disregard the remark. "When's McGonagall getting here anyway?"

"In approximately twelve point five seconds," said a deep voice. Remus glanced over his shoulders, and spotted Sirius approaching them with his crimson tie hung loosely around his collar. "So you'd better scamper before you get detention, Princess."

Remus sniggered under his breath, recognising the nickname from one of many late nights in the dormitories. So, Sirius had decided to use it after all.

"Excuse me?" Kyra huffed, folding her arms. "Did you just call me Princess?"

"Sounds like it," Sirius drawled, slumping into a nearby desk. He dumped his satchel on the floor. "Why, you have a problem with it?"

Sirius rather liked to meddle with Kyra's thoughts and feelings; Remus had discovered it was somewhat similar to a hobby for the long-haired marauder. It meant an outrageous collection of rumours on his behalf, but Sirius enjoyed destroying his family name.

Kyra's chest heaved as her cheeks flushed scarlet, "Of course I—"

She was interrupted, midsentence. "Pray tell, Miss Peakes, by what do I owe your unexpected presence?" Professor McGonagall's tall physique cast an intimidating shadow over Kyra's face.

In an instance, her infuriated scowl was replaced by a sickening smile. Remus doubted that such an expression would help Kyra in any shape or form. "Hi, Professor! I thought I'd participate in your lesson today. I was always interested in Transfiguration."

An eyebrow rose. "Oh, really? How interesting. Such a shame, then, that you did not choose it for NEWT Level."

Kyra blinked obliviously. "Well, I suppose so."

McGonagall threw her an uncompromising look, before sweeping to the front of the classroom. "I'm afraid I did not make myself quite clear," she said, standing before the black board. "You did not receive an invitation into my classroom, Miss Peakes, and I thoroughly recommend you return to your ownlesson."

Kyra opened her mouth to argue. "But Professor—"

She was silenced by the threatening expression that crossed McGonagall's face. "Before I put you in detention for wasting time."

Grudgingly, Kyra slipped off James' desk. She threw McGonagall a glare when she had turned her back, before leaving the classroom. From what Remus could deduce, Kyra was plotting something. You could practically see the cogs turning in her brain, concocting something deeply disturbing.

A short while later, McGonagall started her lecture about Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration. An even shorter while later, Sirius slipped a small slither of parchment onto Remus' desk.

The transfer's missing.

Remus paused, before temporarily examining the classroom. Sirius was right; only one of the transfer students was sat in the classroom. The boy was sitting comfortably in the back row, and he wasn't taking any notes on the lecture, which either meant he was a terrible student or he knew it already. The girl, however, was nowhere to be seen. Remus would have assumed she simply did not take the class, except McGonagall's eyes kept darting to the door, as if she was expecting someone to burst through it at any moment.

He glanced back down to the parchment, before quickly scrawling: You're right. I wonder where she is?

The note returned within seconds. I'm going to check the map. Cover me.

Remus' eyes briefly scanned the reply. He waved his wand discreetly, underneath his desk, which caused a boy, Kenneth Jackson, to squeal like a pig. It had sadly become second nature to Remus, as a marauder, to cast spells on undeserving victims for their cause.

Another note arrived shortly after. Where's the map? I can't find it. Nice spell by the way. Innovative.

No idea, Remus wrote, ignoring the compliment. Have you asked Prongs?

Sirius flicked a scrap of parchment at James' head, catching the attention of the bespectacled marauder. After a short while of silent communication, the boy shrugged.

Nowhere to be seen, I guess it's in the dormitory. McKinnon better not rummage through our stuff again.

Remus rolled his eyes. That was five years ago, Padfoot. Let it go.

It was private.

Sighing, Remus opted against scribbling out a reply. He really needed to get some notes on this subject, because he was a bit rusty from over the summer. However, it seemed fate was not in his favour, because just ten minutes into the lecture, Sirius raised his hand.

Now, under other circumstances, Remus would assume that putting up your hand merely meant you had the answer for a question. It was unusual that Sirius ever answered a question, but it wasn't impossible. However, seeing as no question was asked, Remus had good reason to believe that this would be absurd, and almost definitely disruptive.

Apparently, so did Professor McGonagall, because her eyes flew over him as if he wasn't even there.

Sadly, that was not how Sirius worked. "Hey, Professor." He called out, slouched in his seat.

McGonagall sighed, but rested her attention on the black-haired marauder. "What can I do for you, Mr Black?"

He flicked his fringe out of his eyes. "Where's the new girl?" He questioned.

James seemed to break out of some sort of daydream he'd been having, staring at the wall, and began to nod his head fervently. "Yeah, I bet she does Transfig. She looks the sort."

"She's…indisposed," McGonagall replied rigidly. "Though I can't see it is any of your concern."

Sirius shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "I was just wondering. Carry on." He swatted his hand.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Oh, can I?" She drawled mordantly. "How very considerate of you, Mr Black."

"Yes, quite," James agreed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I think you should reward him house points for being so selfless."

"Have you forgotten, Mr Potter? You are quite capable of that, yourself." At his sudden look of confusion, her lips twitched slightly. "As Head Boy, of course."

Somehow, Remus mused, James' grin managed to spread even further. It was virtually blinding. "Oh, that's right, Professor." He glanced over his shoulder. "Oi, Sirius, ten points to Gryffindor!"

"Why, thank you, Prongs." Sirius replied, grinning himself.

McGonagall's expression darkened. "Detention on Thursday night, Potter, for abuse of power!"

James' head swivelled round in feigned disbelief. "But, Professor! You said it was within my power!"

This is going to last for a while, Remus mused sorrowfully. Fate really loathed him.

"Lily Evans"

Hospital Wing

Her emerald eyes flickered reluctantly open; her head was throbbing with excruciating pain. A muffled whimper sounded from her throat, and her devastatingly bright surroundings caused her to scrunch her eyes. She raised a feeble hand to shelter her face.

An unexpected silhouette shielded Lily from the light—a young female, with wavy blonde locks tucked neatly beneath a waxen cloth. This shadow belonged indisputably to Madame Pomfrey, for she was toying with an assortment of gaudy-coloured bottles.

Lily shifted herself onto her side, echoing a soft groan when a sharp pain shot through her chest.

Madame Pomfrey quickly deposited the bottles, and her hands were examining Lily's forehead in an instant. "Temperature's fine…" Madame Pomfrey mumbled under her breath. "Skin is clammy, pain is inevitable…"

"What happened?" Lily managed to groan, propping her head against the wall.

Madame Pomfrey frowned, folding over her arms. "You've been stunned, that's what! No discipline in this school whatsoever, I swear—utterly ridiculous." She seethed heatedly, forcibly pouring a green-coloured liquid down Lily's throat.

Understandably, she choked, after all, the medicine tasted ghastly.

"I…I was stunned?" Lily spluttered; her face aghast with shock. She scrambled out of her bed sheets, her eyes widened significantly. "W—what? When? H—how?"

"Well, how should I know?" Madame Pomfrey huffed, recollecting all of her bottles on a silver tray, prior to vanishing into one of her cabinets. "I'm a Healer, not a Seer."

Lily frowned. "I—I don't remember being stunned, though," she proclaimed slowly, "Surely, the stunning spell doesn't entail memory loss."

Madame Pomfrey returned from the cupboard, her brows knitted together. "Now that, Miss Evans, is rather worrying." She divulged, re-examining her patient with superfluous vigour. "Most students don't remember to cast a Memory charm. However, it seems, unfortunately for you…" there was a brief pause as she jabbed her wand into Lily's side, causing her to whimper painfully, "they remembered."

Madame Pomfrey scrutinized the shaping bruise and cast a non-verbal spell. She straightened her back, and swept the dirt off her apron. "The likelihood of a student being able to cast a successful Memory charm is quite unlikely. I shall be reporting this to the Headmaster, but for now, you must rest."

"Not quite yet, if you don't mind, Poppy." Lily's head sprung up in surprise. Professor Dumbledore swept through the array of hospital beds with refined ease. He wore scintillating cobalt robes, partnered with a polished wizard hat, yet there was an ominously sombre expression on his face.

Madame Pomfrey grimaced. "The girl needs rest, Albus; don't be long." She threw him a stern glance, before setting off for the cabinet.

"Good afternoon to you, Miss Evans," Dumbledore greeted mildly, settling on a nearby bed. "Can I assume that Madame Pomfrey has divulged to you about your predicament?" Lily nodded. "Brilliant, that is helpful indeed. That will make things a considerable amount easier."

He paused; momentarily inspecting the girl's face. "I must enquire into whether you can recall any information of the incident. You see, Miss Evans, there is a deficient number of witnesses to this episode. I believe it was indeed your Ravenclaw comrade, Miss Clearwater, who came about you."

Lily allowed herself to smile, before grimacing at the implication of Dumbledore's words. "So what you're saying is that… you don't know who stunned me? That's it, right?" She questioned.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, the solemn expression in his eyes startling Lily. "Unfortunately, that is the case."

Lily's forehead crinkled, as she fought to remember any detail, no matter how insufficient. "I…I can't remember anything, Professor. Not even a tiny detail… Why is that?" She asked frustratedly.

"It seems the effects of the memory charm remains," Dumbledore mused, scrutinising Lily's expression. "A shame, unquestionably, but not unsolvable. Memory charms cast by inexperienced witches or wizards have a tendency to weaken with time."

Lily's face brightened. "My memory will return in the future?" She questioned eagerly.

"Indeed, Miss Evans. However, I request that you pay a visit to my office regularly to examine your progress." Dumbledore requested, his solemn expression transforming into a tiny smile.

"Certainly, sir." Lily agreed, grinning.

"Now, I shall leave you to rest in peace," Dumbledore said, standing to his feet. His smile widened. "You must be well-rested for the visits you will indisputably receive tomorrow morning."

"James Potter"

Transfiguration classroom

He hadn't managed to talk himself out of detention, and had only just avoided a year's worth on top of it. Of course, Sirius had found this all hilariously funny, even if you couldn't see it on his face. Remus, on the other hand, had the expression of a little boy whose candy had been stolen by the big bully. In a way, that was true, but never mind.

The only sound inside the classroom was the scratching of chalk against the blackboard, which was being controlled by the flick of McGonagall's wand. Personally, James found this all outrageously dull, but he'd already disrupted half of the lesson, and Remus really wanted the notes for NEWT revision.

When James started hearing rhythmic drumming from behind him, he was able to guess that Sirius was significantly bored too. A bored Sirius was a dreadful Sirius, because he became temperamental and exceptionally exasperating.

The sound of the door bursting open interrupted McGonagall midsentence, and left her looking rather disconcerted. The girl, the transfer one, was slumped against the doorframe, looking particularly out of breath. Her cheeks were flushed red, either from exhaustion or embarrassment. It was hard to tell.

"I—I'm so sorry, Professor," she breathed out, attempting to straighten her posture. Her voice sounded apologetic, and genuinely mortified. "I…I was talking with Dumbledore."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, before swivelling round. "Take a seat, Miss Brocklehurst."

The girl nodded promptly, before scurrying to the desk beside her friend, the other transfer. James would have missed the word she mouthed at him, had he not been scrutinising her.

So what had she 'done'?

A/N: I'm so sorry this update took so long, I am the slowest writer in the world. I've had the first scene written for yonks, I swear. And in case you were curious, Peter wasn't in the class because he doesn't take Transfiguration class. I have everyone's lessons planned out, don't worry! I'm not a Peter-writer-outer.
He has his very own story!

Updated: 28/04/12