Disclaimer: Once again, only in my dreams.

A/N: Just for the record, the actress who plays Luna Lovegood in HP5 was, hands down, the best part of the entire movie. Which I just saw last week. I know, I know, I'm a very bad fan.

Almost 2000 hits and 51 reviews...well, that's encouraging and discouraging. On the one hand, I've acquired some lovely regular reviewers...but on the other, some of you are reading and not reviewing—and if you have me on story alert, thank you because that's very encouraging, but please review as well! I always try to respond. :)

Anyway, I'm leaving for university in a few days, and because of all that college life entails, I'll only be able to work on this story (and give you well-written chapters) on occasion, so updates will be sporadic, at best. I'll try my hardest to update quickly, but I have to warn you that this fic will take the backseat to...er, life. But I hope you continue to review, review, review and I'll try my hardest to give you speedy updates!

This chapter goes out to all the Lily-James lovers out there.


Chapter Eight

I know it's only rock and roll, but I like it. –The Rolling Stones

"—broken nose, two black eyes—"

"Yeah, Amos Diggory—"

"—Sirius Black—"

"—wouldn't want to cross him, dunno what Amos was bloody thinking—"

Emmeline groaned inwardly; could she really not get away from all these bloody rumours? The whispers swirled around her, although somehow her name had managed to escape from the murmurings of vicious tongues, something for which she was grateful—the last thing she wanted was to be the object of the jealous stares of fifth-year girls positively besotted with stupid Sirius Black.

As far as she could tell from the gossip flying through the hallways, the most widely accepted story of how Amos Diggory managed to get himself two blackened eyes and a broken nose courtesy of one incensed Sirius Black was that Amos had nosed into Black's business—which, everyone knew, translated loosely into 'Diggory ruined a potential shag.' This unfounded speculation made Emmeline bristle with offended virtue every time she overheard clueless students chattering about it because she had most definitely not shagged Sirius bleeding Black, and she certainly had never had any intentions of doing so!

Her torrential thoughts were interrupted by Marlene waving her hand in front of her face.

"Are you even listening, Em?"

"No," Emmeline sighed, stabbing absently at her dinner.

"At least you're honest," Marlene said irritably. "Do try and listen, Vance, this is important. We were talking about Hogsmeade this weekend."

The words 'Hogsmeade this weekend' stirred something in Emmeline's memory…she slapped a palm to her forehead and this time didn't even try to hold back her groan. Lily glanced up at her, alarmed.

"Everything alright, Em?"

Instead of responding, Emmeline mumbled, "Stupid Peter Pettigrew..."

A look of sympathetic understanding crossed Lily's face. "He asked you?"

"He's going to, later," Emmeline said exasperatedly. At Lily's raised eyebrows, she added hastily, "Si—Remus told me. So I could figure out what to say."

"Well, that should be easy enough," Marlene remarked. "Here, I'll help: no."

"Not that simple," Emmeline said gloomily. "Can't break the poor bloke's heart."

"Says bloody who?" Marlene demanded. "Do you want to go with him?"

"No..."

"You're not obligated to go with him to Hogsmeade," Marlene reminded her. "You don't owe Peter Pettigrew anything, Em. It's not your fault he fancies you."

"I can't just—just flatten him like that though, Marlene...that would be cruel..."

Marlene gave her a look crossed between pitying and frustrated. "You don't have to be cruel about it, Em. You can tell him, 'Look, Pete, you're a great bloke, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now.' No harm, no foul. And it's not even a lie." Her eyes sharpened keenly at Emmeline. "Unless you are looking for a relationship?"

"No," Emmeline said emphatically even as Sirius Black's image swam before her mind's eye.

"Then just tell Pettigrew that," Marlene advised wisely, nodding her head for added emphasis. "He'll be upset for a bit, then he'll move on—and we can eat in bloody peace again."

"They're not here now," Emmeline pointed out, her mood brightening a bit at this previously unrealised fact.

"That's true..." Marlene said slowly. "Wonder what's going on?"

-------------------------------

"Go over it with me one more time, James."

"I've told you, Wormtail, just go and ask her. The worst she can do is say no."

James' words failed to encourage Peter; rather, he turned an ashen shade of green.

"One more time," he repeated, voice shaking slightly.

James heaved a great sigh, as though Peter's request was a great burden and said in a bored voice, "Hello, Peter. What can I help you with?"

Peter inhaled deeply and then said, "Hello, Emmeline. How are you today?" By the sound of his voice, he seemed to be aiming for the casually bored arrogance that came so naturally to Sirius courtesy of his Black lineage.

Sirius, who was watching the exchanged with every appearance of great boredom, shook his head at Peter's emulation of him and interrupted, "Can we go down to dinner now? I'm bloody starving."

"Shhh!" Peter hissed nervously. "This has to go perfectly, Sirius!"

Sirius rolled his eyes and watched as Peter cleared his throat and looked expectantly at James.

Grinning at Sirius and pitching his voice into an unnaturally high falsetto, James chirped, "My day was lovely, Peter, how sweet of you to ask!"

Sirius snorted. "Oh, come on, Prongs, at least try to be realistic..."

"Shhh!" Peter repeated furiously, turning to glare at Sirius, a mark of how determined he was to perfect this exchange. He turned back to James. "I was wondering, Emmeline..."

"Yes?" James sang out, struggling not to laugh, his mouth twitching.

"If you aren't already going with anyone to Hogsmeade this weekend, would you like to go with me?" Peter rushed out in a great breath. James batted his eyelashes at Peter and squealed breathily, "Of course, Peter! Oh, I'd love to!"

"Now are you done?" Sirius demanded, scowling as he made his way to the door. Peter nodded silently but made no move to follow James and Sirius out of the dorm. James stopped at the door.

"Aren't you coming, Wormtail? Can't woo your girl if you're still in your dorm."

"I think—I think I'll wait for Remus to come up and I'll go down with him," Peter said faintly.

James exchanged a look with Sirius. "Wormtail, just grit your teeth and ask her out, mate...it's not hard."

"Yeah, James does it at least five times a day—and gets rejected—and he's still standing," Sirius added. Peter did not look comforted.

"No," he said, "I think I'll wait for Remus to come back from the library."

James shook his head. "Alright mate, but the longer you wait, the more likely you are to lose your nerve."

Peter shook his head, mumbled incoherently and waved them on. James exchanged another look with Sirius and something unspoken passed between them. Suddenly striding forward, the two grabbed Peter under his arms and pulled him through the door.

"It's for your own good, mate," James told Peter, who, although not struggling, had turned ghostly white. "Consider it a rite of passage...the first time for you ever ask a girl to go out with you...we've all done it, Wormtail, and it's high time you joined the ranks of men everywhere..."

"But what if she says no?" Peter asked fearfully.

"Then you've really joined the ranks of men everywhere," James replied with a grin. "And it's really not so bad, getting rejected...I handle it alright..."

"I'm not entirely sure you know the definition of the word 'no'," Sirius said from Peter's other side; his hand was clenched down tightly on Peter's upper arm. "No worries, Wormtail, if Vance says no—" and Sirius was highly certain she would, or he wouldn't have been encouraging this proceeding, "—then you can probably get a sympathy date from a Hufflepuff."

---------------------------

"Oh, Merlin, Em, prepare yourself," Marlene mumbled, glancing down into her pumpkin juice. Emmeline's back stiffened and she whispered, "How far away?"

"Emmeline?"

She really should have been expecting that, Emmeline reflected glumly. "Yes, Peter?"

Peter was scuffing the floor of the Great Hall with one foot, his eyes trained on his shoe as though it held the secrets to the universe in its laces. He opened his mouth, and no sound came out.

James Potter frowned and pinched him a bit as Emmeline watched with growing dread. Peter cleared his throat and said something so quietly that Emmeline only caught several words.

"You—Hogsmeade—me?"

"I—well," Emmeline stammered; she wished the floor would open up and swallow her—anything to get away from those horribly hopeful eyes.

"She can't, Pettigrew," Marlene interrupted, leaning forward. "We've all agreed to stay with Dorcas this weekend. After her parents and everything, none of us thought she should be alone."

Feeling a great surge of gratitude and appreciation for Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline nodded emphatically. "Sorry, Peter. You understand?"

Peter looked as though he was torn between disappointment in the rejection and thrilled at the reason behind the rejection. "Of course I understand!" he squeaked. "Friends come first! Maybe next time, Emmeline?"

Emmeline made a non-committal sound. "See you round, then, Peter?"

"I'll bring you back sweets from Zonko's," he assured her, bustling away to where Remus Lupin had just entered the Great Hall. James winked at Lily—who was pointedly ignoring him—and Sirius leaned down and said in Emmeline's ear, "And you think you're above my influence," before they both followed Peter.

Marlene arched an eyebrow at Emmeline, who had turned a slight pink at Sirius' words. "He'll bring you back sweets from Zonko's, Em. How perfectly lovely of him." There was an odd look on Marlene's face, as though she wanted to say more but was resisting.

"Stuff it, McKinnon," Emmeline mumbled, embarrassed. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Yes, well, you looked as though you were about to blurt out a yes just to keep the boy's heart intact and being the excellent friend that I am..." Marlene shrugged. "I simply had to save you from your own kindness."

Lily looked pained. "You have to break it to him eventually, Em. This can't be allowed to continue, this pining."

"You think I want it to continue?" Emmeline asked incredulously. "It's not like I enjoy it! I have to dodge him everywhere I go!"

"Then you should march over there and tell him you're sorry, but you like him only as a friend," Lily said primly. Emmeline scowled at her.

"Because that tactic works so well with Potter," Marlene pointed out wryly. "Oh, can we not talk about them anymore? I'm bloody sick of it."

"I second that," Emmeline said quickly. "How's Dorcas managing?"

Marlene's face still held a trace of the odd look she had been sending Emmeline's way, but she responded, "As best as can be expected."

"Which means terribly," Lily translated, twirling her spoon in her cream cake dejectedly.

Once dinner had ended, Marlene caught Emmeline's arm and whispered hurriedly in her ear, "When Lily goes out on patrol, you and I are having a little heart-to-heart, Em."

Emmeline blinked and was about to respond when Marlene let go of her arm and began to walk ahead of her.

-----------------------

Once Lily had left for patrol, Marlene pointed at Emmeline and said, "Start talking, Vance."

Instead of answering, Emmeline glanced around and asked, "Where's Dorcas?"

"Getting tutoring for all the class she missed at the beginning of term. Don't avoid the question, Vance. I want to know all of it."

"All of what?"

"Whatever's going on between you and Sirius Black," Marlene replied matter-of-factly.

Emmeline felt herself blush. "Nothing's going between Sirius Black and me," she mumbled, which was true now, but Marlene still looked unconvinced.

"You're a terrible liar, Vance," she informed Emmeline.

Blushing harder, Emmeline protested weakly, "I'm not lying."

"Sure. That shite may work with Lily, Emmeline, but not with me," Marlene said bluntly, motioning Emmeline over to sit on her bed. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"Have you been doing whatever it is that you've been doing with Sirius Black that makes you turn that charming shade of red."

"It's just snogging!" Emmeline blurted out and then, as she realised what she had just said, clapped her hand to her mouth, wincing.

Marlene, however, looked wholly unsurprised. "I thought as much. You're not really the shagging type."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emmeline said, a little stung.

"Oh, don't look so hurt, Em," Marlene said airily. "It means that you're not the kind of girl to just off and shag a bloke like Sirius Black. But I have to say I'm not surprised that this has happened."

"Marlene, I was surprised that this happened," Emmeline said dryly, the vivid redness fading from her cheeks.

"Remember what I said before term started?" Marlene asked. "About Sirius Black becoming a distraction to you?"

Emmeline wrinkled her nose as she thought back to the day before term, which felt as though it had been ages ago, when in reality it had only been several weeks. Her cheeks burned again. "I remember. But he's not a distraction anymore."

Marlene looked confused. "But I thought you said—"

"I ended it."

Marlene gaped at her. "Why?"

"Because..." Emmeline hesitated and then plunged ahead; Marlene might as well know everything. "Amos Diggory told me—"

Marlene snorted derisively. "That patsy? You really listened to—"

"Marlene!"

"Fine, sorry."

"He told me about how he overheard Sirius telling James Potter he wanted to shag me."

Marlene looked at her expectantly, clearly waiting for the scandalous reveal. When none came she rolled her eyes. "And you ended it over something like that?"

Feeling very much like a five-year-old being chastised for running in the house, Emmeline nodded and then added hastily, "And because he put Amos in the hospital after that."

"Is that why Diggory's in the hospital?" Marlene exclaimed. At Emmeline's nod, she said, "I'd wondered how much truth was in the rumours..."

Emmeline's cheeks burned again. "I am—was never a potential shag for Sirius Black," she said forcefully. "That's complete bullocks!"

"Seeing as how no one knows who the girl is," Marlene pointed out keenly, "I think your reputation is safe."

"It only happened twice. And it's over, I ended it," Emmeline repeated, most of her pride having been long since chucked aside courtesy of one Marlene McKinnon.

"Well from the look on his face at dinner, he seems to have chosen to ignore that," Marlene remarked, arching her dark eyebrows at Emmeline and grinning suggestively. "Answer me this, Vance," she continued, leaning forward, her voice low, "How was he?"

Emmeline's face was on fire. "Marlene!"

"Oh stop looking so scandalised and answer the question," Marlene ordered playfully, nudging Emmeline's knee with her own.

Emmeline muttered something unintelligible and Marlene grinned. "I take that to mean he made your legs turn to jelly?"

"Oh, shut it," Emmeline grumbled, climbing off of Marlene's bed.

"I personally don't know what you're so wound up about," Marlene commented dryly. "I'd love a good snog, especially from someone like—"

The door to their dormitory swung open and Dorcas stormed in, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"—Puddlemore United," Marlene covered smoothly. "How was the makeup Potions lesson, Dorcas?"

Dorcas shook her head. "Regulus Black was in there serving detention, which was bloody distracting. Em, you'd best watch yourself around that one—he's a nutter and he's got it out for you."

Emmeline, while hardly surprised by this news, blinked at Dorcas. "Did he say something to you?" she demanded, the scene after the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match replaying itself in her mind.

Dorcas shook her head. "No, nothing like that...Slughorn mentioned it, and Regulus got this look on his face and he almost snapped his quill in half...especially whenever your name was brought up."

"What'd Slughorn say?" Emmeline wanted to know.

"Just that Regulus was stupid for trying to curse you and Sirius in the hallway. Why were you with Sirius?"

"We have the same free period," Emmeline said quickly; Marlene raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say, Well that explains a lot.

Dorcas accepted Emmeline's answer without comment and swiftly moved on. "He kept glaring at me...if looks could kill..." She shuddered and climbed over to her bed.

----------------

Regulus Black crumpled the letter in his hand. How had his mother found out about his argument with Sirius? He'd bet a thousand Galleons that cow Madam Pomfrey had written her...and now he could expect to be hearing from Bellatrix?

He smoothed the letter out and reread his mother's admonishments. You should learn how to protect yourself, although why you need to against the weak magic of a filthy Mudblood is disgraceful...I'm writing to Bellatrix, I believe she has learned many forms of duelling outside of Hogwarts...and she can ask Narcissa to keep an eye on you...do not disgrace this family, Regulus.

He crumpled the letter again. He was not sodding five years old and he did not need Bellatrix to advise him on anything!

This was all that damn Mudblood's fault, that Emmeline Vance. His sores had not yet fully healed, something Severus Snape had nearly wet himself laughing over—as though bloody Snape was any better than Regulus…

There was another letter sitting next to him, one that he had not yet opened. He didn't want to know cousin Bella's opinion on his barely-healed boils, or on what his vengeance should be—it would be difficult enough already to reach Emmeline Vance, with Sirius hanging about her—not to mention what bloody Dumbledore would do if he knew anything of Regulus' thirst for revenge.

He picked up Bella's letter—the parchment was thick and creamy, his name written in an elegant, ladylike scroll. He turned the sealed letter over in his hands several times before plucking up all of his courage and breaking the blood-red wax seal on the back of the letter.

He read through the letter several times, each time gulping hard once he reached Bella's signature at the bottom of the parchment.

Bellatrix was going to tell Him.

------------------

Lily hunched over Emmeline's Transfiguration notes, trying to comprehend what they were saying. It wasn't Emmeline's handwriting—which was dismal at best, but Lily had been exchanging parchments and notes with Emmeline Vance for seven years now and could decipher the hieroglyphics—but the content of the notes. She had no idea what any of it meant, and she had a nasty feeling that if she tried to wake Emmeline up to ask her, she would be rewarded with a pillow to the head. Lily looked over at the enormous clock pushed back into the corner of the common room—it was almost 1 AM. She rubbed her forehead and inhaled deeply, trying to keep her tired and stressed nerves from snapping.

She pointed her wand at the chair in front of her and squinted down at Emmeline's notes—the spell was nonverbal. Lily grimaced—nonverbal spells were one of her weaknesses, especially in Transfiguration, a class in which she already had to work her arse off just to keep up.

Lily repeated the spell under her breath and then focused on the chair in front of her, saying the spell in her mind—and the cushion on the chair flopped a bit and was still.

Frustrated—for this was a typical result when Lily attempted Transfiguration outside of the classroom—she threw her wand down on the table and leaned back into the couch. Why could she not do this? Why did Charms and Potions come so easily, so naturally to her, and yet Transfiguration remained an eternal enigma? Tears, aided by stress and tiredness, threatened the back of her eyes.

"Having difficulties, Evans?"

Lily suppressed a groan; this was all she needed: a good taunting from James sodding Potter.

"What's this?" he asked, picking up Emmeline's notes from the table. "Are these Vance's notes? Her writing's horrible!"

"I'm well aware," she said through gritted teeth. "Why are you back so late from patrol?"

He grinned at her and put Emmeline's notes down, pulling a treacle tart from the pockets of his robes. "Went to the kitchens. Want it?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm studying, Potter."

He dropped down lazily into the spot on the couch next to her. "Take a break. Come on, they're your favourite..." He waved the tart temptingly in front of her face.

Rolling her eyes, she took the dessert from him and said, "Now go away."

He stretched himself out to his full length next to her and Lily felt something catch in her chest. Ignoring it, she put the tart on the table and picked her wand back up, pointing it at the chair and trying again.

She could feel James' eyes on her as she swished her wand at the chair, could feel his eyes on her face as she fought back more tears of frustration and exhaustion when nothing happened. The cushion didn't even move this time.

"You're doing it wrong," he said finally, sitting up. "It's like this." And before she could protest, or jerk away from him, his right arm had settled on top of hers and his hand closed around the hand in which she was holding her wand.

"Now," he said, and she had to stop herself from jumping—his face was nearly touching hers, his breath tickling her ear. "It's less of a long swish and more of a sharp flick." The hand he had wrapped around hers demonstrated. "And you have to really concentrate on what you want the spell to do—less on the actual spell."

He flicked her wand again and the chair vanished. In its place had appeared several scurrying mice, squeaking fearfully. James motioned her wand again, her hand still trapped under his. The mice disappeared and the chair was back.

"Think you've got it now?" he asked, tilting his face so he could see into hers—and her heart started pounding furiously, as though she were running a marathon. Their faces were much too close but her brain seemed unable to send the signals to her muscles required to allow her to move away.

"Yeah," she said, and she didn't really recognise her own voice—it had gone slightly hoarse and low. She swallowed, trying to clear her throat. "I've got it now."

"Good," he said, but he didn't move his hand or his face away from hers. His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and she knew it was coming, she was waiting for him to kiss her and he said, "Lily..."

She barely registered her own name because his face was much too close—it had taken over her vision; all she could see was James Potter. His mouth was a hair's breadth away from hers.

"Enjoy the treacle tart," he said finally, releasing her hand and standing. She felt as though he had snatched away her sole source of warmth in the middle of winter.

"Thanks," was all she said, absently staring down at her arm where his had covered it.

Once his back was turned to her, James let a wide, triumphant grin split his face.

--------------------

"You alright, Evans?" Emmeline asked Lily, looking concerned. "You look..." she paused, searching for the proper words, "Tired. Very tired. What time did you come up after patrol?"

"Late," Lily mumbled, poking her sausages with her fork. "I came up late. You barely moved when I turned the light on."

"Why'd you stay up so late?" Emmeline wanted to know. Lily glanced at her and hesitated.

"Oh, come on, Evans, out with it," Emmeline prodded. "Marlene and Dorcas haven't even come down yet, you can tell me."

Lily considered Emmeline for a long moment then said, "You can't laugh. Or gasp. Or say you told me so. Or react in any way." She brandished her fork threateningly.

Emmeline snorted. "Merlin, Evans. Did you shag someone?"

Lily choked on her pumpkin juice and Emmeline's mouth dropped open. "You did?"

"No!" Lily snapped, coughing. "And don't be so bloody loud!"

Emmeline reached towards the middle of the table and picked up the still rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet that had come with the early-morning owl post and smacked Lily on the shoulder with it. "Don't scare me like that, Evans!"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Do you want to know what happened last night or not?"

"I want to know what happened last night," Emmeline said immediately.

"Promise me you won't laugh or—"

"I promise I won't react in any way, Evans. Stop stalling."

Lily took a deep breath. "I almost snogged James Potter."

Emmeline's mouth twitched. "Almost?"

"Almost," Lily confirmed.

"Why didn't you?"

"I wanted to."

Emmeline's eyebrows shot up. "And he—he didn't?"

Lily shrugged, her cheeks turning bright pink. "He…he just sort of—left."

"He left?" Emmeline repeated, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "James Potter had you exactly where he's been trying to get you for five years—at least—and he just...left?"

Lily nodded glumly. "Without looking back."

Emmeline sat back in her chair. "Wow."

"Em..." Lily hesitated and then rushed out, "What if—what if I start...you know...liking Potter and he...well..."

"Lily," Emmeline interrupted. "James Potter has been in love with you since second year. He's not going to stop being in love with you because you start feeling things for him. He might spontaneously combust, but he's not going to fall out of love with you. He'll still be an arrogant git, though," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Lily smiled weakly. "I—oh, hey, Kingsley."

Emmeline turned and gave Kingsley Shacklebolt, another seventh year Gryffindor, a small smile. "Hey Kingsley," she echoed Lily.

"Lily, Emmeline," Kingsley said, and Emmeline found her insides melting at his smooth, deep voice. She always was a sucker for deep, masculine voices. "I was wondering if you had heard about the meeting tonight?"

"We haven't heard anything," Lily said, looking confused.

Kingsley frowned and said, "Black was supposed to tell you—we're to be in Dumbledore's office at seven tonight." His voice became quieter and Emmeline had to strain to hear him. "For the Order."

Lily glanced at Emmeline, who was frowning. "Thanks, Kingsley." He nodded to them and went to sit further down the table.

"Black was supposed to tell us," Emmeline repeated.

Lily instantly knew where this was headed. "Oh, Em, I'm sure he was just really busy—it's N.E.W.T. year, after all, we're all overloaded—"

"Kingsley had time to tell us," Emmeline pointed out, eyes snapping. "Why didn't Sirius?"

"You're overreacting," Lily reasoned. "It's not a big deal, Em—"

But Emmeline ignored her and turned her attention back on her food.

-------------------

The library was quiet and almost peaceful—as peaceful as Madam Pince would allow, being a firm believer in that too much peace means something is amiss—when Emmeline stormed through the doors, determined to find one Sirius Black and jinx him into next month.

He had failed to tell her about the Order meeting on purpose, she was sure. Whether his motives were to get her to come talk to him or to simply piss her off, she didn't know—but she did know he was about to meet the wrong end of her wand. Damn Blacks.

She found him sitting in the very back, slouching against the wall, sideways to the table, a thick book on his lap and his eyes closed. Her eyes narrowed and she hissed at him, "Black!"

He didn't even open his eyes. "Sleeping, Vance."

She glanced behind her to make sure Madam Pince was still up near the front of the library, beadily eyeing a group of sixth years. With this confirmed, Emmeline faced Sirius and demanded forcefully, "Why didn't you tell me the meeting was tonight?"

His eyes opened. "Shit. I forgot."

She glared at him. "Something as minute and unimportant as the bloody Order meeting?" she whispered furiously.

Sirius eyed her. "You're not nearly as angry as you think you are," he observed with a small smirk that made her blood boil. She chose to ignore him.

"How can you forget something like that? Unless you—"

"Vance," he interrupted her, closing his eyes again, "do us all a favour and shut it."

Her mouth dropped open and she wanted to scream at him—but no sound came out of her throat, a blessing in disguise when Emmeline looked back, as Madam Pince would have appeared at her side in an instant.

Finally, she gathered herself up and said, her voice icy cold, "Kiss my arse, Black." And, disgusted with herself that those lips had ever touched hers, she turned her back to him and walked away. She heard him say from behind her, "I'd love to, but you'd hex me..."

She fumed and didn't turn around.

-------------------

Regulus twisted his hands nervously. He'd seen Sirius go in the library, seen Emmeline Vance—that stupid Mudblood—go in and come back out, looking as though she could spit nails, and now all that remained was for him to pluck up his courage and go in there.

He'd made up his mind around four that morning to try and warn Sirius about Bella's plans—if anyone was a match for Bellatrix, it was Sirius. And his loathing for his brother didn't extend far enough that he would keep silent on what Bella had planned for Sirius and his sodding girlfriend.

Because really, if Sirius wanted to shag filth, it was no skin off Regulus' nose. But if Dumbledore found out he, Regulus, had allowed something so horrendous to happen—Regulus shuddered. Punishment would be severe. And He never had to know.

He took a deep breath and opened the doors to the library; Madam Pince smiled warmly at him—she had always been fond of him. He smiled weakly back and walked towards the back, where he knew Sirius would be.

Sirius was leaning against the back wall, his eyes closed, smirking about something Regulus wasn't privy to knowing—although he suspected it had something to do with why Emmeline Vance had left the library in such a furious state. His skin crawled; he could only imagine what they had been doing.

"Sirius," Regulus said quietly.

Sirius' eyes flew open and a look of disgust equal to what Regulus was feeling spread over his face. "Yeah?" he snapped.

"There's something you need to know. About—" Regulus hesitated, "—about what happened the other day."

"You mean when Vance—a Muggleborn—hexed your sorry arse?" There was something akin to haughty pride in Sirius' voice.

"Yes, about that," Regulus said through gritted teeth. Trust Sirius to make this harder than it already was. "I—"

"Your boils haven't fully healed, have they, Regulus? Because I couldn't really tell the difference between that and your normal appearance. Vance did an excellent job on you."

Regulus' mouth snapped shut; all of his resolve from four o'clock that morning had vanished.

"Very well," he said coolly and without another word of warning, he left in the same fashion as Emmeline had.

-----------------------

"Good evening," Dumbledore called out cheerfully as students filed into his office. Emmeline took her seat between Lily and Marlene and glanced around—several tired-looking wizards were leaning on the walls behind Dumbledore's desk. They were Aurors from the looks of it, and she would imagine they seemed so exhausted because of the headlines in the Daily Prophet.

At Dumbledore's words, everyone fell silent, looking around expectantly.

"This," Dumbledore said, beaming at them, "is Alastor Moody, an expertly trained Auror for the Ministry for Magic."

"They look like a rambunctious lot," Moody growled at Dumbledore. "Are you sure about them, Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes, quite sure," Dumbledore confirmed cheerfully. "They are all of age and excellent wizards and witches, Alastor. Now, if you please—" Dumbledore motioned Moody over to the centre of the office and sat down behind his desk. Emmeline glanced at Marlene, who shrugged.

Moody eyeballed them with distaste. "You're all of age?" he barked, and Emmeline knew Dumbledore had just told him that they were—so why was he asking again?

They all nodded silently.

"Good," Moody said approvingly. "Then I can speak frankly." He paced and continued, "The Ministry thinks Voldemort is only a temporary threat." He narrowed his eyes at them. "I say the Ministry needs to look up the definition of temporary. Voldemort knows what he's doing—he's a smart one."

"What's he doing?" James Potter asked loudly.

Moody eyed him with distaste before he answered, "Terrible things, boy." He glanced back at Dumbledore, who nodded slowly. Moody turned back around. "He's murdered a fair number of good witches and wizards—and a higher number of Muggles."

Next to Lily, Dorcas gave a small flinch.

Moody continued to look derisively at them. "What you have learned in school will not prepare you for what is out there, waiting for you. Nothing can prepare you for the things I've seen. These people...they have no scruples, no morals; I've heard it said they don't even have souls." He fixed them with a no-nonsense glare. "I wouldn't be knowing a thing about that, but I'll tell you this much—a more vile, pitiless group I've never seen the likes of before."

He looked back again at Dumbledore, who nodded as before. "Thank you, Alastor," he said quietly as Moody went back to lean against the wall with the other wizards.

"Oh and Dumbledore," Moody rumbled from the side, "he's got a new plan against you." The wizard next to Moody, who had thick, bright red hair and lopsided glasses, nudged him warningly.

Moody barked to the wizard, "What, Arthur? They've all agreed to it, they're all of age! They're members of the Order, just as much as we are!"

"Yes, but they are still in school," the redheaded wizard said calmly. "And since it's happening at Hogwarts—"

"Enough," Dumbledore said gently. "They will be told when the time is right." At this cryptic statement, Emmeline looked around; she was not the only confused one.

"What's happening at Hogwarts?" Sirius Black wanted to know. Emmeline looked away, fury snapping at her. Arsehole.

Moody snorted and snapped out, "You're Sirius Black, aren't you, boy?" Sirius scowled at him. "I thought so," Moody continued, undaunted. "They all have the same arrogant look," he told the redheaded Arthur next to him. Turning back to Sirius, Moody said waspishly, "Why don't you ask your brother, Black? Or better yet, your cousin Bellatrix?"

Emmeline's eyebrows went up and Marlene pinched her lightly. "Look at Sirius' face," Marlene whispered. Indeed, Sirius looked ready to throttle Alastor Moody—Emmeline had never seen him look so angry, not even when Regulus had been shouting insults to them in the hallways.

She waited for Sirius to give Moody a cheeky retort, but none came. Instead Sirius simply looked away—right at her. Her chin went up but she didn't break his gaze—she wasn't going to be the first one to back down.

Something shifted in his eyes and he smirked at her—that horrible arrogant and haughty smirk that simply dripped with money. She hated that damn smirk and was positively itching to curse it off his face—

"Em, you're staring," Marlene whispered. "It's a bit obvious." Her voice became amused. "And a bit too fervent for something that's over."

Emmeline tore her gaze from Sirius. "He's infuriating," she hissed back. Marlene grinned.

"Yes, I know," she said with a half sympathetic, half amused shake of her head. "And I have say, Vance, if Sirius Black were looking at me the way he's looking at you right now—no, don't look back over, that's bleeding obvious—I'd be searching for cozy private broom closet right about now."

"A broom closet?" Emmeline repeated blankly. "What for?"

Marlene's grin widened and she winked at Emmeline. "Oh, you know...a little of this, a little of that..."

Emmeline turned bright red.

"What are you two whispering about?" Lily demanded quietly.

"The Order," Marlene lied smoothly. "That Moody is quite the cheery bloke, don't you think?"

------------------

"Potter!"

James grinned. "Yes, Evans?"

"Where are you going? We still have to patrol!"

"I was just going to run down to the kitchens, get something to eat—you fancy a treacle tart?" He grinned as she turned bright pink, clearly remembering the previous night.

"No, Potter," she snapped. "You were wrong about treacle tart being my favourite dessert."
""Was I?"

"Yes. I can't stand treacle tart." She shoved past him, a flurry of red hair, black robes and disgust. Although, he reminded himself gleefully, she hadn't seemed too disgusted last night...

"I don't know, Evans," he drawled. "You seemed to like treacle tart well enough last night."

Her face turned an even brighter pink. "Just go patrol, Potter," she ordered. He mock-saluted her and called out as she walked away from him, "Hogsmeade is this weekend, Evans."

"No, Potter!"

He laughed a little. "Always assuming...I was going to say that I hope you're not heartbroken when I take someone else."

-------------------

"He's taking someone else?"

"That's what she said, Marlene."

"Oh, shut it, Vance! Lily, he can't take someone else!"

"He said he was."

"Did he say who?"

"No, Dorcas, he didn't say who."

"We'll find out," Marlene promised, looking horrified at the thought of James Potter with an unknown, faceless girl in Hogsmeade.

"I'd rather you not."

"Why not?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Marlene, leave her alone! She doesn't want to know who the bloody girl is!"

Marlene blinked. "Damn, Emmeline, you don't have to get upset about it."

"Sorry," Emmeline mumbled, rubbing her forehead. "Bad day."

"Know the feeling," Dorcas sympathized from under her covers.

Lily shot a pleading look at Emmeline, who went over to sit on Lily's bed. "We'll talk later," Emmeline said softly, glancing over at where Marlene silently fumed and Dorcas was trying to sleep. Lily nodded silently.

After Dorcas and Marlene had both finally fallen asleep, Lily and Emmeline slipped down into the common room.

"He doesn't like me anymore," Lily said softly, plucking at a loose thread on the pillow she held over her stomach. She looked so tiny and fragile that it was all Emmeline could do to not throw her arms around Lily's shoulders and promise her that she would curse James Potter until she turned blue in the face.

"You don't know that," Emmeline argued fiercely. "This could all be part of some...some new tactic he's trying to use to get you to go out with him."

"After five years of the same tactics?" Lily pointed out quietly. She laughed a little. "You have to admit, Em, it's poetic justice...as soon as he moves on, like I've been bloody screaming at him to do for five years, I start—falling for him." She laughed again and Emmeline's heart went out to her.

"He's not—he can't—no," Emmeline protested weakly. "Just...no."

"You're very convincing, Em," Lily said, her voice falsely light. "I...I think I'll go to bed now."

Emmeline stayed where she was, staring into the dying fire. What in the bleeding hell was James Potter's problem? Had he not been annoying her for advice on Lily just two weeks ago?

The portrait creaked open and someone hissed, "Shut up, Wormtail, you're breathing too loud!"

"Sorry—"

"Damn it, that's my foot!"

Emmeline straightened and waited until they were in front of her, revelling in their own cleverness and clearly convinced they had not been caught.

"Potter," she called out, and even she was surprised at how very cold her voice was. All four of them flinched and she saw Peter shiver—though she couldn't be sure if that wasn't actually from her mere presence. She mentally winced—when did she become such a bitch?

"Yes, Vance?" James asked pleasantly, nodding at the others to continue up to their dorm. Sirius Black sent her a long look the implications of which she didn't even want to start processing. She stood and drew herself up to her full height—which still barely reached his shoulder.

"What is your bloody problem?" she demanded, poking him in the chest to emphasize her words. He blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Your problem, Potter!" she snapped. "You asked me—not a fortnight ago—how to best win Lily Evans, and now you're—you're—" she seemed unable to find the right words to describe just exactly how heinous he was, finally settling on, "you bloody bastard!"

She fixed him with a fierce glare and when he didn't say anything in his own defense she shook her head disgustedly. "Just...sod off, Potter," she said finally. "And stay away from my best friend," she added threateningly before stomping up the stairs towards the girls' dormitory.

James watched her go, not smiling.