Hello again! Thanks so much to all the reviewers I've had so far, especially the three who reviewed last chapter- the anonymous reviewer, Vivi Bright, and siriusfanno1. This chapter is dedicated to siriusfanno1, my most faithful reviewer so far! Enjoy

Lissa's POV

I hung back behind everyone on the way to McGonagall's office, not desperately keen on talking to anyone. I was far too busy dreading the inevitable interrogation from McGonagall on why Emmeline and Sirius had been fighting over me, because what was I supposed to say to that? There was no way McGonagall or even Dumbledore knew about my parents, no one except the McKinnons, my friends and the Ministry higher-ups did as of yet, so I couldn't really give any sort of explanation. In other words, I was screwed.

We reached McGonagall's office and trooped in, forming a rough line in front of where she sat sternly behind her desk. "You may sit," she said, conjuring up ten stiff-backed chairs. I wasn't the only one reluctant to sit down, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one whose stomach was churning nervously. I knew there was no way I could be punished, as I hadn't actually done anything, but there were still things I didn't want McGonagall or the Marauders to know. It was already bad enough that my friends did, but I was sure that if McGonagall found out she'd go to Dumbledore who'd go to Barty Crouch who'd land me in Azkaban faster than you could say innocent. None of the others seemed to be showing any nerves though: Lily and Mary knew they wouldn't be in much trouble and Marlene, Emmeline, Alice and the Marauders probably spent so much time in this office that it must feel like a second home. Before Christmas, I'd been just like them. Now, any form of interrogation was just a disaster waiting to happen, so apart from the failed prank on Sirius I'd been lying pretty low.

McGonagall fixed us all with a steely look. "Now, I don't know why Mr Black and Ms Vance saw fit to throw a screaming match during dinner, or why the rest of you saw fit to get involved instead of getting a teacher as you should have, but I intend to find out." She made eye contact with each one of us individually, and I somehow managed not to squirm (beats me how though, honestly). "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Who would like to tell me why Mr Black and Ms Vance were shouting?"

Not a word. Not even little Peter Pettigrew, who I'd always imagined would wilt like a dead dandelion under pressure, squealed on Sirius and Emmeline. "Mr Lupin, Ms Evans, as prefects of this school, I expect that you two, at least, cannot condone this behavior. Operating under this assumption, is there anything you would like to tell me?" Lily and Remus shook their heads, Lily reacting surprisingly well under pressure, Remus a Marauder.

McGonagall sighed heavily, readjusting her glasses wearily. "Alright then, we will start at the root of the problem, which seems to be, according to Mr Black and Ms Vance's raised voices in the Great Hall, Mr Black and Ms Crawford's relationship. If the rest of you could wait outside, I would like to discuss this with the two of them first." My stomach churned harder, and I was sure I was about to throw up. My friends left, each shooting me a sympathetic look, Emmeline looking at me apologetically. I gave her a small smile, letting her know that it was fine, because I didn't blame her in the slightest. I was actually a little touched that she would stand up for me like that. James led Remus and Peter out, James giving Sirius a pat on the shoulder and a mocking grin, Remus and Peter each running a hand through Sirius' precious hair before legging it out the door. James followed them after shooting McGonagall a flirty wink. I rolled my eyes in spit of my nerves, watching out of the corner of my eye as Sirius desperately tried to pat down his wavy raven hair.

McGonagall sighed again, this time in relief at James' departure. She turned back to Sirius and I, and the stern look was back. She slipped off her spectacles, wiped them on her robes, and slid them back on. "So, what seems to be the problem. Mr Black, you can take that one seeing as you clearly feel very strongly about it."

Sirius crossed his arms and sunk down in his chair, wearing a surly expression. "Ask her," he muttered bitterly. McGonagall looked a little exasperated, but got over it quickly enough. Too many years of dealing with him built up a good resistance, I guess. I only wished I had that to help me.

McGonagall turned to me with her eyebrow raised. I took a deep breath. "We broke up, Professor. Well, I broke up with him." Sirius started to mutter darkly under his breath, and I was actually starting to get a little scared. McGonagall rubbed her eyes, looking like she was tired of children. "So you mean to tell me that all of the yelling and screaming was because you two broke up? Because you had a little teenage tiff?"

Sirius bristled at McGonagall's words. I didn't bother, I mean, hadn't I come to the conclusion at dinner that breaking up with your boyfriend was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things? If only Sirius wasn't so sweet and good-looking and cute and funny and goofy and and and… Who am I kidding, my life is over! It was just so hard trying to ignore Sirius Black when he was sitting there slouched on that chair, hair still messed up despite his best efforts at fixing it, surly expression that couldn't ruin his handsome features, school robes hanging open all the way to expose a pair of dark denim jeans and a tight black t-shirt that highlighted his sexy Quidditch muscles… You're doing this to protect him, and he hates you for it, anyway. Don't give in, don't tell him! I do not look good with the joy sucked out of me, I do not look good after the Dementor's Kiss, I do not look good in freaking Azkaban!

"It's not that, Professor, it's 'cause she never told me why! She just put it in a letter and now she won't talk to me anymore!" McGonagall eyed me curiously, eyebrow raised once again. Then she seemed to be struck by a bolt of inspiration, clapping her hands so suddenly and loudly that I jumped about a foot off my chair.

"Quassus!," shouted Bellatrix Lestrange with a cruel smirk. The jet of orange hit my brother in the leg, and a second later a loud 'snap' echoed through the room, accompanied by the sounds of my brother's agonized screams over his shattered femur.

Sirius and McGonagall both looked at my with confused and puzzled faces, although I glimpsed a tiny glint of… recognition? Knowing? A little shiver of dread crept down my spine. I really hoped Sirius wouldn't start questioning my new jumpiness. "Sorry, Professor," I muttered, sitting back down on the chair with a flaming face. McGonagall gave me an odd look. I really didn't want to know what Sirius was thinking right now.

"As I was going to say, I think I have discovered the root of the problem. Mr Black is clearly very bothered by how you, Ms Crawford, failed to give him a solid enough reason as to why your relationship ended. I take it, Mr Black, that you will continue to look for this reason until it is given to you?" Sirius responded with a curt nod. McGonagall turned back to me, exasperated expression gradually settling into one of determination. "Then I can only think of one solution. As I can assume from past experience, Mr Black's idea of perseverance will probably involve explosions and disruptions, and I cannot allow that to happen if I can possibly help it. So what I propose is this: the two of you will sit down, alone together, several times a week in a locked, soundproofed room until you have resolved your issues. Understand?"

I could barely breathe, and I was sure that if I opened my mouth I would be unable to stop screaming. There was no way we'd be able to 'resolve our issues'! Was McGonagall insane?! "So, like couples' counseling?!," asked Sirius with incredulity and contempt. My thoughts exactly, Sirius. McGonagall nodded curtly. "Yes, Mr Black, like couples' counseling. Your thoughts, Ms Crawford?"

I started at being asked, a little shocked that she hadn't simply taken a look at my expression, one of horror and annoyance. "I don't really think that it's the best idea, Professor. I don't think Sirius understands that I don't have to give him a reason, and I just- can't."

I sneaked a glance at Sirius after my answer. His whole body was full of tension, his forehead creased, fists clenched. I felt horrible, because there was no denying that this was all my fault. No matter how much I secretly blamed Regulus Black for telling Bellatrix about my relationship with his cousin, it was still my fault that Bellatrix had ever threatened Sirius in the first place, and now it had come to this.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow (it would get tuck eventually, this had to be the tenth time she'd done that in the last ten minutes). "Be that as it may, Ms Crawford, but if the two of you have not come to some sort of peaceful co-existence by the end of the school year in four months time, you will both spend every day of seventh year in detention."

My jaw fell open, and a quick glance across at Sirius revealed he was having a similar reaction. "But, but, that's totally unfair! You didn't say anything when last year's Head Boy and Girl broke up and messed up the rounds timetables so badly that Jimmy Norton missed his Astronomy OWL!," Sirius protested. I was inclined to agree- if Clarissa Brown and Louis Clearwater had let the breakdown of their relationship mean that Jimmy Norton had had to stay back an extra day after the holidays to do an exam, I thought that the breakdown of our relationship should be allowed one little public screaming match.

McGonagall didn't seem to care about our reactions, though. "That's as may be, Mr Black, but Louis Clearwater never turned the entire Slytherin Quidditch team into worms before the Quidditch final," she said sternly, fixing Sirius with a steely glare. In return, Sirius muttered something about "only returning them to their true form."

McGonagall then turned to me, correctly reading my expression to be one of disagreement. "Nor, Ms Crawford, did Clarissa Brown ever attempt to kneecap the Ravenclaw Seeker the day before a Ravenclaw-Slytherin match." I gasped in indignation. "That's totally unfair Professor! Patrick Boot pushed me off my broom…" McGonagall raised that damn eyebrow again. "In first year," I finished in a low voice.

McGonagall cleared her throat before continuing, glaring at Sirius and I as she spoke. "I have come to realize that both of you are the most capable people at holding grudges I've ever had the displeasure to come across. It is obvious that neither of you are going to let this go—" "That's really not fair Professor—," protested Sirius, frustrated. McGonagall almost smiled. "Oh, Mr Black, so it wasn't you who had at least a hand in Dung-bombing your cousins and brother's dormitories in first year, turning the fifth floor corridor into a swamp in second year, teaching the first years to play Chicken with the Whomping Willow in third year, turned Professor Shipton into a squirrel in fourth year, and led the unforgettable Inter-House Skinny-Dip in Black Lake last year?" Sirius said nothing. I remained silent as well, savoring the fond memories that McGonagall had brought back.

Bellatrix sprinting after a grinning Sirius as everyone turned away from the horrific stink coming off Bellatrix; Bertram Aubrey sinking into the Marauders' swamp on his way to Charms, screaming expletives; watching the irritating, snotty-nosed first-year who'd mocked me on the train fly twenty feet through the air as he lost his death-grip on a branch of the Whomping Willow; Professor Shipton breaking all of the crystal balls in the Divination classroom in her distressed-squirrel-state; the look on McGonagall's face as she caught most of our year, including Emmeline, Alice, Marlene and I, swimming in the Black Lake in the nude….

"…So I'll see both of you here Wednesday after dinner.Mr Black, if you could fetch the others now?" I snapped back to reality as Sirius left his seat to get our friends, waiting outside for the last ten minutes while McGonagall attempted to systematically ruin my life, as well as Sirius'. Sirius led the others back in and slumped back down on his chair, grouchy and uncaring. James sauntered in, every bit as devil-may-care as usual, and flopped down onto a chair beside Sirius, Remus and Peter beside him. Emmeline, Alice and Marlene flounced in carelessly, Marlene ignoring McGonagall's disapproving glare as she proceeded to file her nails. Lily and Mary were the only ones displaying any degree of nerves, although not as much as I'd expected.

"I have already come to a decision about how to deal with Mr Black and Ms Crawford's…issues…, so I suppose I'd better deal with the rest of you. Ms Vance, whatever your friend's relationship troubles, it is inexcusable to engage in a screaming match in the Great Hall with Mr Black. Therefore, both of you will serve a week of detention. Be here at nine sharp Saturday morning. Mr Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew, and Ms Prewett, Evans and McDonald, you chose to get involved rather than get a teacher as you should have, therefore you will all serve one detention with me at nine on Saturday. You can keep Ms Vance and Mr Black company."

Lily and Mary's faces immediately drained off all color. Now that I thought of it, I don't ever remember them having detention before. This was so unfair!They hadn't actually done anything wrong, nothing to deserve a detention. It was different for Marlene and Alice, they probably had done something somewhere along the line deserving of a detention anyway, but Lily and Mary were innocent. Still, maybe it hadn't been my brightest idea to let McGonagall in on my views on her punishment strategy.

"Professor, that's not fair! Mary, Lily, Marlene and Alice didn't even do anything! They're innocent!," I protested. Next to Sirius, James snorted and Lily glared at him. "What are we, road-kill?," he asked, waving an arm towards Remus and Peter. "That, Potter, would be an insult to road-kill," Lily inserted smartly. James stuck his nose in the air in a poor imitation of a posh person. James was about as far from posh as humanly possible. The overall effect, however, was ruined when he stuck out his tongue like a five-year-old.

I ignored Lily and James' childish banter (as I had been doing for the past five and a half years- practice makes perfect!), and continued with my impassioned plea to McGonagall for mercy on my friends' behalf. "Really, though, Professor, it isn't fair—" "That's quite enough, Ms Crawford—" "No, Professor, it isn't, because this is a grossly unfair punishment and—" "Really, Ms Crawford, that is enough—" "THEY'RE INNOCENT, FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!," I finally exploded. I regretted it instantly when I saw the furious look on McGonagall's face. "Er, Professor," I added meekly.

McGonagall glared at me, and I don't know how I managed not to squirm like a slug on a bed of salt. "Well, Ms Crawford, I suppose that if you feel so strongly about it, you can join your friends in detention on Saturday morning. Nine o' clock, my office, I'll see you all then. I trust you can see yourselves out."

We all left silently, going our separate ways at the office door. The Marauders seemed to be headed for the Common Room, so I crossed that off my list of Places To Go To Waste My Evening Away. Mary dragged Lily after them immediately (apparently her obsessions, the Prewett twins, had been sighted hiding out from Slughorn under the Common Room sofas after blowing up the supply cupboard in Potions class that afternoon). Emmeline and Alice left soon after, looking very sorry to go but unable to stop the growling of their hungry stomachs. Marlene didn't follow, although I was sure she was quite hungry herself by the sounds of it. Instead, the first person I had ran to on my release from St Mungo's after That Night (as I'd taken to calling it), leaned against the wall of the corridor right beside me.

"Marls, you really don't have to stay with me. Go eat something, go watch the Prewett boys strut their tuff for Mary, go stalk some hot seventh year Ravenclaws like I know you did last night. You don't have to stay and watch me mope."

Marlene reached over and smacked my arm lightly. "What kind of best friend would I be if I abandoned you in your time of need?," she asked, putting on a tragic voice, hand over her heart dramatically. I rolled my eyes. "I just meant that I'd understand if you wanted to do a bunk." Marlene shook her head. "Where's the fun in that?," she asked, eyes sparkling mischievously. I knew that look. This was going to be a good night.

"First we're gonna go find Fabian and Gideon and rescue them from Mary. Second, we're gonna go find Peeves. Third, we're gonna go have some fun with Filch." Oh well, nothing I hadn't done before a million times, and on a much larger scale. I could feel my mood lift, already I knew my cheeks would be less pale and maybe I'd finally regained the eyes of a living person. I looked at Marlene, grinning widely. "Let us commence Operation Prewett Rescue," I said mischievously.

Fabian Prewett's POV

My arms burned dully as I clung desperately to the crossbeams at the base of a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room. Next to me, under the couch opposite the coffee table in the middle of a ring of comfy couches and squishy armchairs, Gideon was in the same position. When we'd sprinted in here, running away from a furious waddling Slughorn (all we'd done was blow up a measly supply cupboard. Overreaction much?), the Common Room had been empty. When Mary McDonald arrived, acting on a tip-off that we'd arrived (I'd kill Lea Fitzgerald, I really would), we'd fled to the underside of the least-used couches tucked away in a draughty corner of the Common Room.

Mary McDonald was sweet and funny, and a great friend. On any other day we'd have been glad to see her, but today Slughorn was on the warpath and the very last thing we needed was a hyper girl screeching our names at top volume. If Slughorn found us it was al over, and we'd probably be in detention until our N.E.W.T.s. If he couldn't find us, it was a Friday, so we could fake being sick next week and say we'd developed a sudden striking ailment over the weekend. Bubonic plague, something that would keep him far, far away until he'd cooled down a bit.

I listened closely as Mary went around the room, asking everyone where we were, that she'd heard we were here. "Where are Fabian and Gideon, Harrington?," I heard her demand. Betray us now, Harrington, and there's dead slugs in your pillow 'til graduation. "Haven't seen them," he replied coolly and absently. I heard Mary huff and stomp off in search of her next victim.

Ian Harrington, fellow Gryffindor seventh year and close friend, could easily have passed as a Slytherin. He was tall, muscular, and girls adored him with his shaggy dirty-blond hair and dark eyes. Ian had a very complex personality: cool and sneeringly superior on the outside, mischievous and friendly on the inside. He had gotten a flawless score on the OWLs, probably because we were his only friends, thereby leaving him with abundant time to revise, but also because he was just one of those people who never had to do a bit of schoolwork to be a freaking genius. He'd have been a perfect Slytherin (Sorting Hat must have mistaken cockiness and over-confidence for courage), but he was a great friend.

I clung to the crossbars of the base of the couch for what seemed like forever, but was probably about half an hour. A quick look across from me revealed that Gideon too would probably not be able to hold out much longer. Just then I felt a heavy weight drop down onto my back. Someone was sitting on my couch (and therefore, on me), and nobody sat on this couch. Which meant it was probably…. "S'up, Prune Number One?," asked Ian, head hovering just out of reach as he leaned down from where he sat on the couch. He was wearing that infuriating smirk, and I had the sudden (although not uncommon) desire to smack him.

I bared my teeth in a snarl. "Fuck off, Ian," I hissed menacingly. He knew I hated that nickname! Harrington just grinned. "Oh, so you don't want me to tell you that McDonald left?" "She did?," I asked hopefully, not daring to let go off the crossbeams as of yet. Ian nodded, and since he was leaning down his hair was long enough to brush the carpet. "Oh yeah," he replied, smirking, "'Bout twenty minutes ago, actually."

At that precise moment my aching arms gave out and I crashed onto the carpet. It seemed that Gideon, on the other side of the coffee table, had heard Ian loud and clear, because he too dropped onto the floor and rolled out from under the couch. We both stood and advanced on Harrington. I was extremely pleased when the self-assured smirk slid off his face like water at the sight of two seventeen-year-old wizards, drawn wands, advancing on him wearing identical malicious smirks. "You're dead, Ian," said Gideon menacingly, echoing my sentiments exactly.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harrington turned tail and sprinted across the Common Room, heading to the large fireplace around which most of the occupants were gathered. As he ran his wand slipped out of his pocket and rolled under an armchair, eliminating his last chance of escape. Gideon and I formulated a plan wordlessly before giving chase to Harrington. It was funny how one minute Harrington could swipe the Sorting Hat from under Dumbledore's nose without having ever been caught, and the next drop his wand while trying to escape a pursuit. Stupid git.

"FUCK OFF YOU PRUNES!," Harrington screamed, terrified. Gideon and I were feet away when Harrington decided tat it was time for desperate measures, and took a running leap onto the lap of the nearest person, sitting on a tall comfy armchair. "IT'S PREWETT YOU DIPSHIT!," I yelled. We pushed through the people gathered to watch the spectacle we were providing, finally ending up in front of the armchair where Ian was cowering on its occupant's lap. The lap of one very pissed-off Sirius Black.

Sirius' POV

"Seriously Remus, do you think Evans was looking at me in McGonagall's office today?," James asked for the fifth time. Remus, slumped on the couch next to Peter, was trying and failing to concentrate on his Potions essay. He looked up and regarded James with a filthy look. "Yes, Prongs, Lily was indeed looking at you. More like you were something under her shoe, though." Remus' plan worked, James was so crushed that he finally shut up and retreated back to the armchair next to mine to mourn his unrequited love silence. I rolled my eyes.

I'd been in a bad mood since we'd gotten back from McGonagall's office a while ago. I mean, Lissa had outright told her that she had no intention of ever giving me a reason, and that she didn't think there was any chance we'd ever talk again. How could she say that? Even before we'd gotten together we'd had long talks that had often stretched late into the night about everything and nothing- Quidditch, what we'd had for dinner, James and Lily's latest fight, the meaning of life, and our favorite flavors of ice-cream. Lissa had a unique view on life, one that I missed a lot. Of course, when we'd gotten together there'd been a fair bit of snogging and cuddling, but we'd still had the same great conversations as before.

I was mourning the loss of my previously perfect relationship when I heard a voice yell out, "FUCK OFF YOU PRUNES!" I didn't bother to look up, last year some concussed third year had started to fist-fight with a bunch of bananas, complete with the trash-talk. Suddenly a figure leapt up out of nowhere and crashed-landed on my lap. I grunted, glaring down at the offending person. I swear, if it was another fucking nutty third year…

It wasn't. Cowering on my lap and clinging to me with the grip of a hardy crustacean was a seventh year, Ian Harrington. I'd never liked Harrington much, but it was extremely unwise to make an enemy of someone so close with the infamous Prewett twins. While I remained convinced that we were the superior pranksters, I still knew that pissing off Fabian and Gideon was tantamount to throwing yourself off the Astronomy Tower naked underneath a flashing neon sign. Harrington had a way of carrying himself, like he was so above everyone else (no matter what Evans, Vance, Prewett and McKinnon said, I was not that much of an arrogant arse). I personally thought that he would make an excellent Slytherin. I fucking hated Slytherins.

Just as I was about to shove Harrington off me, I heard a loud, familiar voice. "IT'S PREWETT YOU DIPSHIT!" Fabian Prewett, and obviously himself and Gideon were mighty pissed-off with their friend. I really wasn't in the mood to get involved in this, so I took the liberty of shoving Harrington off me. He hit the floor hard and with expletives that impressed even me. Harrington turned around to give me a dirty look. I poked him in the back of the neck with the toe of my steel-capped boot. "Do me a favor, Harrington, and fuck off," I said conversationally, jabbing him in the ribs with my foot.

He gave me the finger as well as a dirty look. "Fucking asshole," he muttered under his breath. I smirked. "The one and only." Then I looked up and glanced around the Common Room, spotting the Prewett twins struggling to get up off the floor, fighting off Harrington's protective fan club of desperate, star-struck girls. I flicked my wand in their direction, non-verbally releasing them from the stranglehold of Serena Prentiss and Abigail Thomas. Harrington tried to stand up, but I soon solved that problem with a swift kick of my beautiful steel-capped shoes to his exposed shins. Ian Harrington went down like a rock, and instants later Fabian and Gideon were on top of him, stripping him off his clothing with vindictive grins.

When they were finished they got up, straightened out their clothes, and left for their dormitory, presumably. Harrington tried to get up and escape the oncoming horde of fan-girls that followed him constantly, but I decided that if I was going to be miserable, everyone would. Except of course, for the fan-girls. So I casually stretched out my foot into Harrington's path and brought him crashing down. The girls leapt on top of him at once, Serena Prentiss hugging him crushingly around the ribs from where she sat on his back, Abigail Thomas running her fingers through his hair. Harrington struggled to raise his head, locking eyes with me. "You, black, are a fucking asshole."

I smirked widely at him, wider when Abigail missed his fringe and poked him in the eye. "That's old news, Ian. Everyone knows that."

And thus ends chapter 10. So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Like it? Hate it? Let me know