"Attention!"

James' head shot up, dropping his spoon mid-flick. Sirius looked relieved. They focused their wavering attention on the Headmaster.

"I know you may be drowsy and ready to hit your bed," Professor Dumbledore began, "but I'd like for you to listen for a minute or so.

"We have been cracking down this year. First off, I'd like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is—well, forbidden. Some older students may want to take note of this fact." He looked pointedly at the Marauders and they laughed. "In other news, our new caretaker, Filch, has asked that all spellwork in hallways and disruptive products from Zonko's are hereby forbidden." He glanced around the room, looking at each table before continuing.

"I'd like to, on a more serious note, warn you about the dangers of the rising Dark Lord, Voldemort." Half of the inhabitants cringed at the name, but the Headmaster ignored it. "I would like to ask that all be extra careful at Hogsmeade in the following months, and try not to be careless. Danger is rising. There will be trouble. And anyone is up, I'm sorry to say.

"On a happier note," he said at last to the fearful Hall, "your warm beds are awaiting you, and term starts Monday. Pip pip!"

The students all stood at once, and James had to push past everyone to reach Lily, who was fighting with a lanky boy at the main doors.

"Frasier is not better than Cheers!" she seemed to be saying angrily. Her hands flew dramatically about, and James thought fleetingly that she really was beautiful when she was crimson. "Cheers had eleven great seasons. Frasier, on the other hand—"

"Lily," he cut in, "we need to locate our Common Room."

She glared at him. She gave Frank a quick hug and said, "Fine," tersely.

She started walking abruptly, and he hurried to catch up. "Wait!" he called. "Where are you going?"

"The Common Room," she said, snorting. He nodded.

"Just slow down," he said to no avail. When she didn't respond, he asked, "How was your hol?"

"Fine. Yours?"

"No, it had to be better than 'fine'. What'd you do?"

She glanced at him curtly. "Who cares what I did?"

"Me," he laughed, practically running to stay at her quick pace. His long legs helped, but years of flying, not running, slowed him down.

"You're a stalker, though, and I don't release personal information to them. I listen to my mother."

He looked dejected because of the comment for a second before regaining his dignity, and shaking the look off of his face.

"Look, I know you were voted Head Boy last year by the majority of the student body, obviously, as you're now Head," she was saying, "and the professors must of backed up the decision. But that does not mean we're going to end up as friends."

"Friendly and friends are different," he said. "We could be civil."

She nodded shortly, shrugging, as they reached a tapestry with a picture of Lady Elaine on her death bed on it.

"Charming," he said as Lily pulled aside the painting. A small painting of the school was mounted on the wall.

"D'you have a key?" he asked her, and she produced an old-fashioned key from around her neck. He took it and opened the painting. It revealed a keyhole, and, inserting the key, the stone wall began to move aside.

After a moment (or two), the wall was open enough for them to walk through. Lily closed the tapestry and they climbed down the steps blindly.

The Common Room was small, perfect for two. It contained a couch, two armchairs, a wall of empty bookshelves, and a fireplace.

"Boring," he said as Lily disappeared into her room.

She returned five minutes later, slightly disheveled, and carrying a stack of colorful, hardback books. She started to set them on the shelves, and, making at least three trips back to her room, filled up nearly two shelves. He watched her as she alphabetized all of her books. When she finished, she stepped back and said, breaking the silence,

"I'm going to send for more."

"What?" James gaped openly. "More? Aren't these enough?"

She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "I'll owl my mum. There may be a way for her to send several. And I can always restock at Christmas holiday."

"What kind of books d'you fancy?" he asked eagerly.

"Romances are top. I like mystery, autobiographies, sci-fi." She paused. "Why? What d'you read?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "I don't suppose you read Nicholas Sparks or C.S. Lewis or James Patterson."

He hiccoughed. "I like, er, Peter Pan?"

"Peter Pan is good, but it's … Peter Pan."

"I like movies," James offered to the wavering Head Girl. "I saw Love Actually recently," he said in hopes to impress her. It was true. Remus and he had watched it and poked fun at the movie. "It was okay. I love Star Wars."

She laughed loudly, and James couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic when she said, "Oh, I bet you do. Anyway, you saw Love Actually?" He nodded. "With Hugh Grant?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Which was he?"

"Main character."

"Er. The Prime Minister?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, then, with him."

She looked surprised. "And you saw this movie, why …?"

"Sirius was off with Peter buying trousers, so Remus and I searched through that bloody telly for ages and came across it."

"You have a telly?"

He beamed. Her frown deepened. "Got that right."

"And you watch it?" she demanded. "Know how to work it? Enjoy it?"

"We don't fancy much of the newer shows, but we watch Ellen"—he got a snort of laughter at that—"Hell's Kitchen, Cheers, Seinfeld, and celebrity gossip channels. Americans these days are hilarious and stupid."

She rolled her eyes at him and started rearranging her shelves again. He stood and stretched and looked at her collection more clearly.

"'Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging'," he read from a cover of a bright yellow book. "What are you reading, Lily?"

She snatched the book away angrily and put it with its sequels. She was bright red. James chuckled.

He looked again. A Walk to Remember, the Narnia chronicles, Tuesdays with Morrie, a Phillip Pullman trilogy.

"I'm going to bed," Lily announced when he got bored reading her titles aloud. "Won't be seeing you, hopefully."

James watched as the girl strutted out of the room, and his face fell.

Today was to be top, his mind said. She was going to see you as Head Boy. Gasp. Snog you senseless. Guess what happened?

He groaned and attempted to push the thoughts out of his mind half-heartedly, but he know they were right.

Your day was pants. Lily ignored you. Lily poked fun at you. You are hopeless.

He opened the door to his room, and, not bothering to even look around or unpack his stuff, laid down and fell asleep to Lily's off-key singing from the next room over.