A/N: Good Evening Potterheads!

I would like to thank the 4 followers and 2 who favourited my story! This chapter is dedicated to:

XXDignity - for Following and favouriting! 3

Where'stheBloodSnake

BumbleJay

MaxandThalia

Nizuna Fujieda

I hope you enjoy chapter 3! Please review!

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"You couldn't listen to an honest man whom you hate." Toba Beta

I didn't have any more run-ins with the Snakes after that, they seemed to let me be, which I was grateful for, but James and Sirius had taken their attack on me rather personally. It had struck an ever worse mischievous streak in them, as they now had ample reason to act on their abhorrence of the Slytherins.

A Prank war of epic proportions took place in March of Second year. My newly beloved boys – who earned my respect and gratitude got me the best present. Ever. I woke up the morning of my birthday and got myself ready. I showered and dressed, before heading to breakfast. The boys seemed quietly smug, and I had no idea why. Lils handed me my gift – a diary that yelled at me to finish my homework on time, which I had to sit under the Orange juice jug to keep it quiet. Alice and Mary had gotten me a new sweater, it was like a blazer and it was a plum colour – it was beautiful, but muggle made, so I could only wear it here. James tapped my shoulder and handed me my card with a smirk.

It was…truly poetic:

Oi! Fletcher!

Have a good laugh on your birthday from us!

The Marauders.

I raised an eyebrow as I fiddled with the yellow ribbon in my hair. James and Sirius both turned their eyes on the door as the Slytherins sidled in. Or, at least, attempted to sidle in unnoticed. Their underwear had been charmed to stay on the outside of their clothes. My eyes widened and I choked on my juice. Sirius clapped my back roughly to help my choking.

"This was you!?" I hissed. They both gave me one nod. Peter was pissing himself, and I could see the humour, when at last, James and Sirius who had their backs to the Great Hall doors now, began singing 'Happy Birthday' to me over and over, and each time they sang 'Fletcher', the Slytherins underwear would change to our house colours and flash a neon colour. Needless to say – I was buckled with laughter.

My mother had transferred one hundred and twenty galleons to my Gringotts account too. "Spend it wisely, and uphold the family honour." She'd stated on my Fletcher letterhead parchment. I rolled my eyes and shrugged. Money was money after all.

Three weeks later and it was Sirius' birthday. I managed to get him a year's subscription to a muggle motor magazine. He gave me a hug for that one. We were both interested in the way muggles coped without magic, and the vehicles they used were truly remarkable. They functioned on some sort of liquid fuel, and they worked. I mean, it took longer than a portkey or apparition, but it got you from A to B.

By the end of second year, Lils and I were still at the top of our game, and by the time the Hogwarts Express had pulled into the station, I was back to being the cold bitch: Amelia-Jean Fletcher. My mask was firmly in place, as were my flawlessly clean cut and smart dress robes. My hair was down, and my gaze was hard as I climbed from the train, seemingly ignoring everyone, and only talking to Sirius Black. I sneered at Bellatrix, who seemed so affronted, I almost chuckled. But mother was present. She seemed to approve of my behaviour though, and my grades, so she said nothing. Just swept me from the station.

In a swirl of darkness and robes, we were stood in our entrance hall again. Bartok and Flossy our house-elves were waiting to greet us. Mother ordered tea and my luggage put away, before we went for our annual 'welcome-home-now-tell-me-your-failings-tea.'

I sat straight as a board. My posture was almost painful, but I managed to convince mother that I was appreciative of my family and my circumstances. "I have heard many things of your year in Hogwarts, Amelia-Jean." She stated, her cold gaze observing me. I didn't so much as twitch. I looked at her and lifted a brow.

"Really mother? And I gather your little spy is Bellatrix Black?" I asked cheekily.

"DO NOT speak to me in such a manner!" she shouted. "Honestly mother, I mean no disrespect, but Bellatrix is not the best person. She and I have a mutual distaste for each other, especially since she thinks herself better than us." I said, knowing this last bit would push at my mother.

"She had better not. You have more class and grace than she ever could have. She'll be lucky to marry. Ever." She started. She then rambled for ten minutes on how women would kill to have my cheekbones and I had to fight not to gag.

Finally…finally… I was allowed to leave. My first stop was my writing desk, and I sent off four letters. One to Sirius, asking how his family reunion was going, one to James which essentially said the same thing, one to Lily asking her to remember her seal when writing, and swearing to keep in touch even though she was going to be heading to France for the summer, and my final letter went to Remus. I had finally worked it out. Remus had been keeping a secret from us, and I wanted to let him know I did not judge him for it, nor did it make me see him as different.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf. I had checked it against my calendar every month, and revisiting my diary notes. He was ill the week of the full moon and someone in his family would need visiting the night of the full moon. I told him that a monster was someone like Bellatrix, or Lucius or the Dark Lord – willing to inflict pain on purpose. Singling out the weak, the vulnerable, it was choosing to do bad things that made you bad, not your circumstances. I think he listened to me, considering I come from a similar circumstance.

Not that I turn into a creature each full moon, just that like him, I feel like I am a bad person, a monster, because I am associated with the Fletcher family, while he feels the same because he has the label of werewolf.

We kept in touch over the summer, regularly after I swore I wouldn't tell a soul, but Sirius Black, curious and nosey bugger that he is, insisted he knew I was keeping something secret. I sighed and told him it was girl stuff, and he seemed to let it go, but every time there was a function, we decided to stick together, and he would always ask again.

One afternoon, father called me to his study. He paced back and forth before telling me that I was to be getting my schoolbooks with the Blacks the following day, and that I would behave in a way befitting of a Fletcher. Get this – he actually said: I will know if you have disobeyed me. Do not disappoint me, Amelia-Jean.

I struggled not to snort. I managed it. Just.

Anyway – the following day, I was dressed, hair set and in dark green robes, awaiting the floo signal that I could go to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black – picture that in a whiny nasal high pitched voice, and you have Lady Black. Eugh. The flames flashed emerald, and after stepping in and calling "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place." I found myself accepting Sirius' hand in aiding me from the fireplace.