Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

The Teen Beat I'm referencing in this chapter actually came out October 1976, not August 1976. Just for clarifications. Yes, it was real. I've seen it.

And the song, is "Good Times, Bad Times," –Led Zeppelin.

Note: In reference to the review I've recieved from "lala500," a completely anonymous review that I'll be honest--peeves me greatly. Firstly, it was someone who was critiquing my story. That's fine by me, if you're going to critique it, that's fine--but give me examples. Firstly, I noticed a lot of improper grammar--which I always find hilarious in someone telling you that you suck. There's nothing that I felt that I could take from her review. So I ask, please, for the critiques, please, provide the details with your critique.

From her review, I felt the need to say this--my story doesn't get started until they start their sixth year. Until that happens, this is all the back story. I'm sorry if some of you feel that some of my characters aren't needed. However, I like all six of my characters, and they all serve their purpose. For a while--I swear I wrote this note somewhere---my story is mainly fluff, superficialness, because Sirius and James, even Lily, all need to grow up. They're maturing, and I'm showing that.

I'm sorry if some of you don't like my story--if that's the case, don't read it.

___________________________________________________________

James—

"Prongs," I heard the clearing of a throat. I tossed in my sleep, such a weird word to hear in dreamland. I sighed into my pillow and thought of Lily..."Prongs..." The voice began getting louder. Was I dreaming I was in a maze or something? "OY! PRONGS!" I felt a pillow smack into my head several times, I covered my head, and turned over, falling onto the floor, hitting my bum hard on the floor.

"Merlin's Beard, Padfoot! What are you doing in my bedroom at three o'clock in the morning!?"

"Liberating myself."

I felt my eyes widen, I had no idea what to expect next.

"You're not, You know..."

"No, James, I'm not gay! Bloody Hell! I just escaped from my home. I'm taking up your Mum's offer. She heard me come in, actually. I am staying with you for the remainder of the summer."
"What?" I was surprised—more shocked, actually. "What happened?"
"I ran away," It was about time he stood up to his parents, "I'd finally had enough."
"What was the final straw, mate?"

Then Sirius launched into telling me everything—how his parents had been 'punishing' him for not agreeing with them. How for the last few weeks, he'd been told that he was a Black and he'd start thinking like one. I couldn't possibly imagine what life must have been like for Sirius. I was glad that he was here, though.

"How about we get Remus and Lydia and Peter over tomorrow?" I asked, "They'll want to make sure you're okay." I offered.

I didn't add that Sirius looked the most depressed I believe I have ever seen him in my life. I couldn't blame him—I could only imagine how it'd be if I were the one who had just run away.

"Sure, that sounds good," He agreed.

I grabbed some parchment and a quill and wrote three copies of the same letter.

Sirius ran away from home. All is good though, he's here with me, and he's safe, and he's okay. Come 'round my place tomorrow, if you'd like. Sirius would enjoy your company, I assume, as would I. You know how my mum is, time isn't going to matter. Take Sirius arriving at two in the morning, for example.

I'll hopefully see you all tomorrow.

James

"Okay, Mate. Let's get some sleep." I nodded to the second twin bed in my room, "You can have that bed." I looked around, "We'll deal with where to put your stuff tomorrow, I'm bushed." I fell back onto my bed, "You know where the bathroom is," I pointed to the door on the westward facing wall, "You can go and clean up, whatever you'd like. I don't have any fancy conditioner though, mate. I'm going back to sleep though. I'm glad you came here. G'Night, Padfoot."

He opened his trunk, pulling out a pair of his pajama's I'd seen him wear in school, "Night Prongs," He said before shutting the bathroom door behind him. I was asleep in about thirty seconds.

Lydia—

"Is eight o'clock too early?" I asked Mum as I sat at the kitchen table, coffee cup in hand—on my Fourteenth cup? Sixteenth cup? I'd lost count after ten.

"I don't think it would be, dear." She replied as she sketched onto a sheet of paper. Some local ballet company was doing Swan Lake—and she was making the costumes. She'd been talking about them nonstop, actually.
"Can I take the car?" I asked, "I know where James' house is and how to get there." I tried to look responsible. I'd gotten my Muggle driver's license almost as soon as I'd gotten home from school. It drove Luke completely batty—he was looking forward to holding it over my head all summer.
"Yes, that's fine." I looked at the clock. It was seven o'clock. I had been up and waiting for three hours to go to James' house.
"Okay, Well I'm going to get dressed, and then I'm leaving." I hurried upstairs and to my bedroom, throwing on a pair of knee length khaki shorts and a Led Zeppelin Shirt that Luke had gotten me for my birthday that year. It was tighter than I liked my shirts, but it was the first shirt on the laundry pile. I squirted my hair with water, trying to kill the frizz, and then after lacing up some green low tops, I grabbed the car keys and headed outside. Mum had bought Luke and me a car for our sixteenth birthdays. It was very strange, considering I did not need one—at all. Once I turned seventeen I would be able to apparate, and then, what'd be the point in the car? She'd assured that it would eventually come in handy, and that it was a 'Muggle' tradition, and she couldn't help herself.

She had gotten me a light blue VW beetle. Blue because—they 'don't make purple cars, sweetie.' Luke had a yellow Shelby GT Mustang. I actually liked my car better...

I listened to the radio as I cruised the country side. The radio was having a good day, I sang along, "In the days of my youth...I was told what it means to be a man...And now that I've reached that age, I've tried my all the things the best I can...No matter how I try I find my ways..." I hummed along," ...Good times, bad times, you know I've had my share..." It was a good distraction.

Finally, at twenty after eight, I was pulling up to the Potter's house. I parked the car by the curb and walked up to the door, knocking loudly.

"Lydia! Dear, What are you doing here?" Cindy—James' mum answered the door.

"I'm here to see him," I clarified, "James wrote me at about three in the morning. Is he all right?" She nodded.

"I was just about to have a cup of tea and a spot of breakfast, come join me while we wait on the boys to wake up."

I followed her into the kitchen, where she sat me down and began milling about over the stove, "I'm so glad that you came, dear." She admitted, "I so wish I had a daughter, I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Then I wouldn't have you, Darling." She smiled.
I had forgotten how much I loved James' mother.
"So tell me," She sat down a cup of tea in front of me, "What's going on with your love life?"

And I launched into telling her all about it. That one boy who I hadn't been able to start thinking about for as long as I could remember.
"That does create a problem, doesn't it? I think that you should tell him though. You never know what he might say." She suggested.

I felt my cheeks turning red, "I couldn't possibly. It could potentially ruin everything."
"Oh, Lydia, Always melodramatic, are we not?"

I laughed lightly, tracing my finger around the lip of the mug, "I don't know how things would turn out. Getting up the guts to do that would be difficult."
"But once you do, your life will become so much better." She assured, "Trust me. Mine did." I looked at her lovingly. She was almost like another Mum to me.
"Well, I doubt that he even likes me back. He could do better, I know he could."
"Nonsense! You're an amazing young woman. You're independent, and intelligent, and creative, and beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." I heard a rap on the door, "Could you get that dear? I don't want the biscuits to burn."

I stood up, nodding and walked back to the front door, swinging it open. On the doorstep was Remus Lupin.
"Hey, Lydia."
"Hey Hey Rems." I smiled, "I didn't know you were coming."
"We've got to check on Padfoot, Don't we?"

Remus—

"You know what, Dear?" James' Mum asked as I sat down at the table. "I'm almost done with breakfast. Would you be a dear and go and wake them up? They've slept long enough." She smiled warmly at me, and as I nodded I pushed away from the table and walked towards James' room.

I couldn't help but notice, especially with my thoughts—they way that they'd always been—however, had I never really noticed how tight Lydia wore her shirts? Was this a new thing, or had she always...

Sirius and James were easy enough to wake, all of breakfast was spent in light hearted conversation. It wasn't until they'd gone back upstairs and changed into clothes, as we'd headed out to James' backyard for a walk around the area that the subject was finally approached.

"They told me that the time has come—it's time to decide where I stand. 'the great war is on the brink of your future, you're a black, and certain things are to be expected of you,'—they kept telling me over and over again. 'Join the dark side, kill the muggles, blah, blah, blah!' they told me that I needed to fight for the cause. I told them I planned on it, if a war were to arise, but then they emphasized I was on the wrong side, and that I was a disappointment. I told them I'd rather die fighting against 'The Dark Lord' and that I would before I'd join sides with them. Wizards are just wizards, right? We've all got the same magic no matter who our parents were! The blood that flows in wizard veins are the same as the blood in Muggle veins. It comes down to that we're all human. And we all have a right to life."

"You didn't say that, Did you?" James asked incredulous. His eyes were as big as the roses that climbed up the garden fence.

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets, flipping his hair out of his eyes, "Yeah, Actually, I did."

"Oh," Lydia sighed, "I'm sorry, Sirius."
"Don't be," He looked offended, "It felt good. Standing up to them felt amazing."

"I can't imagine what I'd feel like if my parents were that cruel," Lydia remarked, tossing her curls over one shoulder, than to the next—After years of knowing her I'd picked up that this was a nervous habit of hers. "So the 'Great War'—it's coming, isn't it?" She looked scared. I wanted to envelope her into a hug and never let her go.

This would be bad because eventually the moon would be full, and I would most likely maim her to her death.
Sirius shrugged, letting out a low breath, "They certainly seem to think so. 'The Dark Lord,' whoever he is—he's growing in strength, apparently."

"I doubt it'd come down to a war, How many times do I have to tell you all?" James shook his head, "Wizards are intelligent people. They aren't stupid enough to seriously try and start a war over something as silly as blood purity."

I agreed with James when I was younger about this. Yet, now—he sounded improbable.

"I don't know if that's the case anymore, Prongs. You have heard the things that people are saying. You know Dark Wizards. And we aren't all intelligent,"

"Yeah, just look at Snivellus." Sirius concluded, I rolled my eyes at the interruption and continued.

"It looks as if it might happen—for real, for real. Maybe Sirius' parents are right—maybe it is time to decide where we stand."

"Are you saying that you think like they do—that only purebloods should be allowed to do magic?" Sirius automatically jumped to the wrong conclusion, shoving his hair from his brow.

"No, Padfoot, I'm not. I'm saying that if this comes to a war, we should fight." I took a side glance at Lydia, "We've got friends that aren't purebloods—and they'll need our help."

"I still say that we're worrying over nothing. The great war—my arse!" I rolled my eyes at James and fought the urge to hold onto Lydia and never let go.

Lily—

I kicked the sand hard. I had a lot to think about this summer, I thought, pushing my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. Severus Snape, The dark, pureblood only wizard.

What happened to Sev?
I kicked the sand again, agitated. What had happened? What had gone wrong? What had changed Sev to make him hate me?
I knew it was because my blood was 'dirty'—actually—it wasn't even 'dirty'. It was worse than that. It was Muggle.

I was a Muggle-Born—translation?

I can't have friends, and I shouldn't be a wizard, I stood up, letting my red hair fly around me. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to calm down—I didn't want to hit anything. I took a long, deep, reassuring breath. Everything would be okay, Lils. Everything would end up fine.

"Lily? I want to talk to you." I Closed my eyes tighter. If I pretended he wasn't there, he'd go away. "Lily?"

I didn't look back, I just walked away.

"LILY!" He shouted after me.

I couldn't look at him, I didn't have the strength, "Leave me alone, Snivellus." I turned on my heel and marched back towards home.

Sirius—

I was glad that I had worn my dark gray shirt today. It was the one that hugged my chest, so girls automatically looked at my extremely well developed quidditch muscles. Who couldn't want me in this shirt?

I mean, Lydia probably even wanted me a little bit. Maybe she'd notice if she stopped staring at Remus for a second. I swear, the only reasonable explanation for what's going on between them is Telepathy. I wish they'd share the secret though—Telepathy would help our Pranks so much.
"So we're supposed to get our school supplies, However, I say we hit up Meco's Joke Shop first."

"Dude," I replied—I noticed I'd gotten the attention of a few leggy blondes, so I flipped my hair out of my eyes, and continued with a perfect smile, "That sounds like the best idea."

Meco's Joke shop was one of the last stores in Diagon Alley, next to it, was Knockturn alley—James and I had ventured down there before. It was a disgusting place. Mother loved it for some reason, but I wished that they could get housekeeping or something. There was more slime on the street alone than all of Britain, probably.

"Hey, look who it is, Black," I heard someone say, I automatically turned.

"Well, Well, Well, Malfoy. What should we do?" I watched as my brother, Scorpius Malfoy, Rodolphus and Rabastan, Bellatrix, and Barty leered at me.
"Aw, Look at the little cousin down here with the girl Mudblood." Bellatrix replied, looking at Lydia's completely oblivious form.
I was about to say something, "Don't. Call. Her. That." I turned to give James' a 'Kudo's'—but it was Remus with his wand out, looking at Bellatrix with hatred, "Apologize."

"Why wouldn't we call her that? It's what she is." Rabastan countered.

"Why would we apologize?" Barty finished for him, "The Mudblood can't help that she's a filthy Mudblood."

"I'll let you call me that if you admit that you're gay." We'd always wondered if they were...It was a soft subject for them. "Anyone can see that you've clearly got something going on with Barty, here." Lydia's voice was full of spite. "What? Afraid that Mummy and Daddy would disown you?" She laughed lightly, "They probably would."
"You're brave now, Mudblood. But you won't always be. The dark lord is rising, and when he does—you'll be one of the first to go," Regulus said. I widened my eyes, I couldn't believe this—Regulus was always quick to please. But he actually believed our parents?

"Watch what you say, Black," I started, holding my wand aloft, "I may be your brother—and I may be a Gryffindor—but I can still kick your arse any day." I grabbed Lydia's arm and turned her around, pulling her away, "Come on guys, Let's leave these gits." I walked away, pushing Lydia ahead of me, peter was instantly in stride with me, James and Remus stood behind, and I didn't wait. They'd catch up when they were ready.

Merlin knows what they'd do to Lydia if we'd stayed any longer.

"You touch a hair on her head—any of you—and I'll hex you, I swear I will." I heard Remus tell them.
"You will, Will you?" Bellatrix laughed.
"He will," James confirmed, "And I'll help him."

And then, a panting James and Remus came up to us, as soon as we entered Meco's, Remus automatically hugged Lydia.
"I'm sorry that they called you that," He said softly, using a hand to smooth her unruly hair, "I'm sorry."
She shrugged, "I'm not. They are just jealous because I am smarter than they are. Why should I let it bother me that those ignorant gits call me that? I mean, sure the word is terrible, But it's not as if it's not true." Man, if I didn't know Lydia and Remus—and know that it was impossible—I'd think that they were dating.
I want that kind of relationship. Obviously, there isn't one between the two of them. It's all brother and sister stuff. But, I want to be in a relationship with a girl. I had tried, but I had never found someone who was as beautiful as myself, so obviously the relationship had to end before it even truly began.

I would look harder this year...

Val—

"School's coming up soon, Care to go to the Salon today? We can get Mani's and Pedi's and new cuts!" Mum offered.

I smiled, "That sounds like a lot of fun."

"Let me just call down, and let them know we'll be coming, why don't you go put your shoes on?"

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in a salon chair flipping through the new issue of Teen Beat. I landed on a picture of Farah Fawcett—she was the most gorgeous American Movie Star! And her hair was to die for! I showed Mum the picture, "That's how I want my hair cut."

"Oh, Dear, That'll frame your face and emphasize your bone structure beautifully!" She smiled. "I love it!"

And I did too...It would be quite a change from the haircut I was currently rocking. I had a middle part, a few face framing layers, but it was essentially long and straight. This was long, and wavy, and styled. Less hippie and more chic.

It was the perfect haircut to change my appearance enough to shock people.

I showed the picture to the Stylist who'd just shampooed my hair, and she began working.

I flipped the pages, landing on an article titled—"What's your Man say about you?"

I read through the article—figuring out exactly the perfect kind of boy that I needed to be with. I began making a mental list of the boys who fit that at school. I was sick of the two week relationships—I had yet to find a boy who was worth sticking with. I needed a man. Not just some silly boy who doesn't think of more than his broomstick...

This would be my year to find him, too...

I wonder if he would work...