** Disclaimer: I own nothing.
...
February quickly turned into March and as Hogwarts adjusted to springtime, thus did the students. Between classes, more than the few and the brave could be found studying and lounging on the grounds, no longer locked away in fear of the blistering elements. The entire mood of the castle seemed to become brighter, both because of the physical light now more freely filling the corridors through the various stained glass windows and because of the cheerful dispositions of the student body.
The only two students who didn't quite seem to buy into the new-found perkiness of the school were James and Lily.
In the former's defense, he did not yet possess the capability and maturity to understand his own sourness. Of course, a third-party observer could easily see how the harsh impact of losing his best friend had affected him. In addition, his resolution to give Lily space didn't make his life any more facile and the realization of her true detestation of him just made the whole situation sting all the more. But for a boy who had spent his first fifteen years of life focused mainly on himself, he was just now understanding that valuing the lives of others had strong repercussions. And so James Potter carried on. His daily routine did not look very different from his previous terms, but it lacked the laughter—and self-admitted debauchery—that had hitherto characterized his time at Hogwarts.
Likewise, Lily was also quite unaware of the root of her own crabbiness, choosing to hide from her own realities under the guise of being fine. When she didn't immediately respond to her sister's post, Petunia had sent six more letters. All of them were relatively similar in nature. The message was rather clear. Don't come to the wedding. Eventually, Lily mustered the Gryffindor courage to respond and sent her sister a simple, "Okay. Congratulations." Petunia had not seen it fit to further pursue any sort of correspondence after that. And so, too, Lily Evans carried on.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this situation concerned how acutely aware of the other individual's misery each of the teenagers was.
Every day, James watched Lily eat her breakfast in silence and contribute minimal smiles and tidbits to her mates' conversations in an effort to pass under the radar. He noticed her spending a great deal of more time in her windowsill and a great deal of less time laughing by the lake with her friends. At the same time, Lily watched the wizard's face twitch uncomfortably every time Sirius was mentioned and how long it had been since a grand Marauder's prank. One was fueled by love and one was fueled by curiosity but neither enjoyed seeing the other so downcast, whether or not either of them realized it.
…
"Mr. Potter," the Transfiguration professor nodded, politely, as James slowly entered the office. "Do take a seat."
The Quidditch captain nodded, silently falling into the familiar chair.
"Do you know why I brought you in this evening, Mr. Potter?"
James shook his head.
"A source has informed me that Mr. Black has been sleeping in the common room sofa for two months." McGonagall's mouth pursed in anticipation of the wizard's defense. She was surprised to see the generally loquacious student continue to glare at the desk in silence. "Mr. Potter?" she probed. "Do you know anything about this?"
His gaze shifted toward his teacher. "Yes, Professor."
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up, waiting for further explanation, but she only receive his intense hazel gaze. After a few moments of the two Gryffindors' competitive stares, she cleared her throat. "James," she began as he flinched at the use of his given name, "I will not pretend to be privy to the adolescent drama that is so unfortunately present at this school. When one of my students is being forced to sleep on a sofa that does not even fit the full length of his body, however, I must intervene. Now, Potter," she echoed, dangerously. "I am going to give you another chance. Explain yourself."
He struggled under her withering gaze for a moment before sighing. "The thing last semester…with Remus…and Snape—"
"I am quite aware of the incident that transpired at the Whomping Willow last term, Mr. Potter."
"He…Sirius…he betrayed Remus! He told Snape how to get down there…he…he could have gotten Remus exp—"
"James," McGonagall sighed. "Do you remember your sorting ceremony?"
"Yes," he said, slowly, eyeing the professor with uncertainty.
"As do I. I expected the hat to decide immediately for you. You were so keen on being a Gryffindor, like—"
"My dad, I know." he said, gruffly.
"But your ceremony wasn't quick, was it? No, indeed it was one of the lengthiest of your year," she reminded him as his emotionless gaze returned to stare at her desk. "Now, you are aware that the conversation of the hat can only be heard by you. I have absolutely no way of knowing what the sorting hat said to you that day. But I can wager a guess."
The wizard gave no indication that he was listening to her at all, so she sighed and pressed on. "Potter, the hat wanted to place you into Hufflepuff, didn't it?" His silence was answer enough. "Do you know why that is?" Quiet. "Because you are loyal—to a fault. The hat saw that six years ago and I have seen it every day since."
She fell quiet, allowing the boy to process what she was saying. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched in concentration. Finally, "Professor, I don't understand what this has to do with anything. I chose Gryffindor that day."
"Oh, I know that. And I would venture to say that you chose quite correctly." She fought to withhold the small smile of pride that played at her lips. "But, Potter, the scarlet and gold tie around your neck do not stamp out your Hufflepuff qualities. You are capable of a great deal of love, dear boy, and I believe that Mr. Black is the individual in this world who can most adamantly attest to this. The ones who need the most love are often the ones who can be most hurt by it." She paused to look at her student. His eyes had finally met hers again. "I know I do not need to brief you on Mr. Black's harsh background. Love is not something he is familiar with, Potter. In your short time at Hogwarts, you and Mr. Lupin and Mr. Pettigrew have enriched his life with the very valuable gift of unconditional friendship. You chose to look past his family, his expectations, his brokenness and see…a boy. Now, I am beseeching you, Potter, to recall your first year. Sirius Black has made an irreparable mistake; of that there is no question. But are you so committed to justice that you overlook forgiveness?"
"Professor McGonagall," he blurted, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. "Are you going to make Sirius come back to the dorm?"
"Certainly not," the older woman shook her head. "You are."
His mouth went agape. "You're going to make me—"
"You are sixteen years old. I am not going to make you do anything of the sort. But if the sorting hat was right about you—and I do believe it was—then I think you are going to fix this situation on your own, without my help."
"You mean forgiving him," James spat. "I'm not doing that, Professor."
"I think that allowing him to sleep in his own bed would be an excellent start."
"No way! I'm not talking to him at all. If he wanted to stay in the dorm, he could've thought about that before—"
"Have a good night, Potter."
"What?" the wizard sputtered. "That's it? You're just going to rant at me about friendship and loyalty and then kick me out?"
"I do believe there is a conversation you need to have before curfew tonight."
"I'm not inviting him back to the dorm!"
The Transfiguration professor only smiled. "Very well, Potter. Then I suppose I will just see you in class tomorrow."
Jame stood up, still bristling as he walked to the door. "I'm not talking to him!"
…
"You're going to let us read it when you're finished, aren't you, Anna?" Mary's shrill voice broke across the dorm toward her petite friend's bed.
The copper-haired girl looked up from her letter. "No."
"What?" Mary squawked, swooping over to her friend. "You've been waiting for this boy to write you for two months, and he finally does and we don't even get to hear it?"
"It's private," Anna defended.
"Don't you know that the word private only means that Mary feels special possession over it?" Marlene snorted from her own bed, where she was working on homework. "Anyone know if it's a swish or jab for the extended protego?"
"I reject that!" Mary shouted, sounding scandalized. I'm just invested in my dear, sweet friend's life!"
"Swish or jab?"
"And besides, I still haven't herd how this mystery Muggle boy managed to get an owl here anyway! I need answers, Brodeur."
Anna Brodeur only rolled her eyes. "I already told you that he sent the letter to my house and my mum owled it. And sorry, Marls, but I'm rubbish at DADA."
"Oh, that's right, you did already say that," Mary hummed. "Well, as your best friend, I should still be entitled to full disclosure."
"You need to get laid, MacDonald," Marlene offered as Anna burst into raucous laughter. Swish or jab, anyone?"
"Oi, Lily!" Mary called to her friend. The redhead was reclined on her bed, homework balanced on her chest as he eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. "Earth to Evans!" Lily blinked at the tall blonde now standing over her bed.
"Sorry," she said, quickly, sitting up. "What's up?"
"The prat across the room needs homework help," Mary explained, plopping onto Lily's bed as she pointed at Marlene.
Marly scoffed. "Extended protego charm. Swish or jab?"
"Neither. It's twist."
"Twist!" she shouted, pumping her fist into the air, victoriously. "Thank you!"
Lily smiled in response, before turning to Mary show as now sprawled across her bed. "Don't you have your own bed?"
"It's not as soft," Mary offered as explanation. Lily chuckled, leaning back next to her friend. "Are you okay?" the taller witch murmured.
Lily twisted her head toward her friend. "What?"
Mary frowned. "You've been quiet lately."
"I'm okay, just stressed about school and everything."
"You're top of the class, Lil. What do you have to be stressed about?"
The prefect stuck her tongue out. "Gotta stay at the top, don't I?"
"You'd tell me if something was going on, right? If you were upset or sad about something?" Mary pressed.
"Of course."
"Okay, good." The witch looked doubtful, but smiled nonetheless. "Well, I'm knackered. Any chance you want to switch beds for the night?"
"Mary," Lily laughed. "Our beds are the exact same. Get out." She shoved her off for good measure.
"I'm going, I'm going!" Mary slid off the bed, pulling her hair out of it's braid as she climbed into her own bed. Before laying down, she turned back around. "Hey, Lil, how come you haven't done any late night reading lately?"
"Just been too tired lately." An unpleasant sensation tugged at her gut as the lie slipped through her lips.
…
"You can sleep in the dorm."
Sirius shot up from his place on the couch, peering over the back cushions. "What?" he sputtered in surprise at the messy-haired wizard standing in the common room.
"You're too lanky for that couch."
"I'm too lanky for the couch," Sirius echoed in a daze.
James crossed his arms over his chest, hazel eyes dark and hardened. "This doesn't change anything. But you can have your bed back." He turned around and marched up the boys' stairs, leaving a shell-shocked Sirius Black alone on the sofa. He blinked a couple times before grabbing his pillow and racing up the stairs.
A/N: Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback!
I was going to have this conversation between McGonagall and James be between Lily and James but I think it would have been forced at this point, so I changed it all up. I promise that Jily interactions are coming. As several of you have pointed out, I have a bit of a different take on the dynamics between the Marauders/Lily and I want to stay true to that and not rush things along. But bare with me because it's coming (within the next two chapters)!
