**Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.


Chapter 11: Revelations Between Lovers

James was scrubbing tea kettles and bookends in Professor McGonagall's enormous store cupboard wishing, not for the first time, that he had been given detention by a teacher who favored him a little. Cleaning with the aid of magic was torture, let alone cleaning without it. McGonagall, though his Head of House, advisor on experimental spell proofs, and patron in all things Quidditch because he kept the inter-House competition cup in her office, certainly didn't grant him leniency when he overslept and turned up to her class ten minutes late. After he finished with these it would be on to the beetle jars and mouse cages. Still, he had to concede, the work itself wasn't the worst of it. What had him ready to bang his head on the shelf in front of him was that he had somehow been paired with Peter for this evening of punishment. And Peter wouldn't stop talking.

"…just looked at me like he wanted to hit me. And because it was, you know, Sirius and he hits like a troll club, I'm glad he didn't. But don't you think this is getting ridiculous?"

James made a noncommittal noise in his throat.

"Remus is no better; he's just less violent. You try to talk sense into him and he ignores you, all calm like, and keeps right on with his sketchpad—as though you're not even there. What are we going to do, Prongs?"

"Leave them alone," he replied simply. "They'll work this out on their own, in their own time. They always have."

James' hand stopped scrubbing for a moment, knowing he was lying. The last time Sirius and Remus had a falling out of this size was at the end of fifth year, after that whole business with Snape, and James knew full well that Remus' feelings of betrayal had never been properly resolved. Sirius had exposed his friend's darkest secret and weakness to an enemy, and placed that enemy in the path of Remus' transformed self. James didn't like to think of what would have happened if Snape had bitten or killed. The years in Azkaban would have been nothing compared to what Remus would have done to himself in guilt and penance.

To this day, however, Sirius maintained that the "prank" had been hilarious, and that Snape would have deserved anything he got. Remus had never confessed what that night had done to him, and James had refrained from telling Sirius that the next day, Remus had been sick two times at the thought of what he might have done. It was the only occasion James had ever seen his perennially agreeable and unruffled friend cry. Sirius and Peter, who had been complicit in the scheme, had spent the morning in Dumbledore's office with Snape, and James had kept his peace about Remus. Blokes just didn't bandy about that one of their mates had broken down, had sobbed for hours, and James respected Remus too much to break his confidence.

Truth told, James himself had been shaken to see his friend in such a state. Watching Remus turn into a werewolf every month had redefined James' ideas about bravery, about pain. Yet Remus never lashed out.

Sirius' caper, Snape's near miss, and most of all, the morning after he had spent with Remus, had humbled James. It was while staring at Remus' tear streaked face and bandaged limbs in the dawn's light that it occurred to him that he could not continue as he had. That all pranks were not in good fun, that people could be hurt in ways that would never heal, that one moment of foolishness could destroy an entire future. It was the morning, the moment James had become a man.

Perhaps it was shameful that it had taken something so large, something so very nearly catastrophic, to wake him up, but there it was. James' fabled reformation began that day. It wasn't absolute, and he'd had slips and relapses, but he was giving it his best effort, and all it took was the grateful look in Remus' eyes to harden his resolve if ever he was tempted to revert to his old ways of careless rascality.

Because, of course, James' chief concern was keeping Sirius in check. It was crucial that James never grew lax in this, because he was the only person who could. The truth of it was that Sirius didn't feel bad. Not about what he had done to Snape or Remus, not about almost anything he had ever done to anyone. It was a rather ingrained trait, and certainly one of Sirius' most appalling. It was also, James reflected wryly, genetic. He would never say so to his mate's face, but the Black family, the whole lot of them, had trouble with remorse. It took quite a lot for Sirius to feel guilt—perhaps because empathy was so foreign to him. The Black family was very near wizarding royalty, and they had a stubborn arrogance instilled in them from childhood, a preoccupying self-involvement that made it extremely difficult to step into someone else's shoes.

Understanding this about his best friend did not lessen the bond between them. Sirius was someone so essential to James' existence, that many times he seemed more like a brother than a mate. James trusted and loved him above all his other comrades, and, as his parents had unequivocally taught him by words and example, love was not conditional. Yet, while there was no affection lost in light of Sirius' failings, there was nothing to be gained by pretending they didn't exist, either. There was also no denying that James had the power to amplify or diminish this trait with his influence. In the days leading up to that horrific night, he was guilty of the former. Even now, though he had not been in on the planning or execution, had not even known what was going on until it was happening, James felt responsible for what he had not done to prevent it. The way he saw it, his handprint was every bit as visible on the scheme as Sirius' and Peter's were. Remus deserved a better friend than that—Sirius deserved a better friend. So James strove to be worthy of them and what they needed.

But Sirius, who had never known what was good for him from what would get him hurt, maimed, or killed, missed the old James and complained weekly at his absence.

James' lip curled a bit spitefully. However much he loved Sirius, he very much wanted to beat him over the head with the tea kettle he was scrubbing just now. He had been grumbling to James over lunch just today regarding how unreasonable Remus was being about the map's confiscation. James would have been inclined to agree, if the root of the argument was even remotely related to the Marauder's Map. But it wasn't. It was about the Snape prank of two years ago, the event that had altered Sirius' relationships with James and Remus irrevocably, and it baffled James that he had yet to put two and two together. For someone so gifted at spell theory, geometry, and making females of all ages amenable, Sirius could be incredibly thick sometimes.

True, this was as much Remus and James' fault for not telling him. They pretended it was not a problem to Sirius' face, though their actions screamed otherwise. Remus had been too spineless, too cagey about showing weakness to Sirius to own up to his feelings, and James had convinced himself that it was Remus' tale to tell. But perhaps that was just evasiveness—cowardice even. Perhaps he too was anxious of how Sirius would react. At best Sirius would get uncomfortable and quiet, act as though they had said nothing, and skirt the issue whenever it was brought back up. At worst, he would go on the offensive, attack.

It was draining, this tiptoeing around, and James' current prevailing sentiment was that Sirius could go fuck himself.

"Maybe you're right," Peter conceded hopefully. "I just hope they make up soon. It's right annoying, yeah?"

James made another ambiguous noise in response. Fond as he was of Peter, he didn't want to talk at all, let alone about the exhausted subject of their mutual friends' ongoing quarrel.

He had actually been looking forward to this time. One good thing about scrubbing and polishing was that you didn't need to concentrate overmuch on what you were doing while you worked. He hadn't had much time alone with his thoughts since Monday, when the feud had erupted—when he had first made love to Lily. Since then, his days had begun by waking up next to Lily, perhaps having a romp or two that may or may not cause them to miss breakfast, then on to classes, meals, Quidditch practice, mediating Sirius and Remus' barbed comments, and every spare moment he got, losing himself in Lily. Over and over again.

He couldn't seem to help himself. He had skipped meals to sneak off with her, led her into empty classrooms during their patrol rounds, and every free period they had in common was spent in his bed. Before he knew it, it was Saturday and he hadn't once cleared time ponder, analyze what was going on around him. He had wanted to give these hours in detention to considering Lily and what was happening between them. But a Dung Bomb Peter had been carrying around for some unfathomable reason had fallen out of his pocket and gone off in McGonagall's classroom on Thursday, and he had received detention as well. That Peter had been assigned the canary cages was a small comfort. His friend had already been assaulted by bird droppings twice.

James picked up the next tea kettle and paused at the sight of the floral relief decorating the side. It was a bouquet of flowers. Lilies. He stared at it a moment. She would be waiting for him when he finished, perhaps on the sofa in the common room for a study session, perhaps in his bed for something better. A thrill ran through him at the thought.

Too good to be true. She, all of it, was too good to be true. What had he done to deserve her waiting for him?

But then, it wasn't perfect—not remotely. She didn't love him; that was evident. As eager as she was to shag his brains out, the distance between them was still palpable. All he had to do to hold her was roll over in bed, and yet she was still out of reach.

Despair choked him a bit. After all, what more could he do? What more could he give?

"You're thinking of Lily, aren't you?" Peter's voice carried to his ears.

James looked up sharply, snapping from his reverie. "What makes you say that?" he asked as blandly as he could affect.

Peter shrugged, a toothy grin on his face. "After a good five years, I know your thinking-about-Lily face."

He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised he was so transparent. After all, Peter had known him for a long time.

"You must be so happy," Peter continued.

"Yeah?" James said. "Why's that?"

"You got her," Peter said simply. "I knew you would."

James barked a surprised laugh at that. "Really?" he said skeptically.

But Peter nodded, his face earnest. "You always get what you want, Prongs."

Taken aback for a moment, James stared at Peter. Then a smile bloomed over his lips as James felt buoyed by those words. His mate had a point there. He couldn't give up now, not when he was closer than ever to achieving his desire. Nothing with Lily had ever come easily, yet he was expecting her love to be as automatic as his. Of course he was going to have to work for it, bleed for it—she wouldn't be Lily if he didn't have to. If she was out of reach, he was just going to have to chase her.

"Thanks, Wormtail."


Alida was just exiting the Library, balancing a large stack of books in her arms, when she caught sight of something that alarmed her. She did a double-take, at first doubting her eyes, but there was no mistaking Maggie and Sirius, or the racket and fuss they caused when they were together.

The two hadn't had any sort of identifiable conversation in over a month, much less a fight, but that wasn't what troubled Alida. Maggie and Sirius never seemed to be…well, done. A confrontation here or there was to be expected. What had Alida racing toward them was that Sirius was pulling Maggie by the arm while the dark-haired girl struggled. Not only that, Maggie was crying, begging Sirius to let her go—but he ignored her.

Alida didn't even bother to set down her books; Sirius had just yanked Maggie around a corner heading for the stairs. There wasn't time. She followed them at as much of a run as she could manage in halls clogged with students, all of whom seemed to be in her way, and a load of books that was probably too heavy for her under the best of circumstances.

She called out once or twice, but she was fairly certain that neither of them heard her. Sirius dragged Maggie down flights of stairs, from the fourth floor to the first, and Alida struggling to keep them in sight. When she saw them turn down a corridor ahead of her, she realized that they were headed to the Hospital Wing. She didn't give herself the chance to wonder at that or its potential implications. All that mattered was making sure that Maggie was all right.

Alida prepared herself for an uncomfortable scene, punctuated perhaps by Sirius' full attention on her—something that unsettled her under the best of circumstances—and pushed the doors open.

Sirius was shouting. "Poppy," his voice rang out. "Poppy!"

Taking a moment to marvel at his audacity to call the school's Healer by her given name, Alida slowly advanced into the room. There was no need to run now; they weren't going anywhere.

He still clutched Maggie's arm, and Alida's friend gave a soft whimper that echoed in the enormous, empty room.

There was a bit of commotion in Madam Pomfrey's office before the door burst open and the young Healer bustled out. Her eyes narrowed and she huffed indelicately at the sight of the young man who had addressed her so informally. "What's all this then?" she demanded.

Sirius jerked Maggie forward. "Is there some examination you can do to see if she's pregnant?"

Alida had been edging forward but she stopped abruptly at his words.

Did he just say pregnant?

Pomfrey sputtered. "I'm sorry Mr. Black, you wish for me to…."

Black took a deep breath and responded much more calmly than he had before. "She says she's pregnant. Is there any way you can tell for certain?"

As Pomfrey surveyed the young man and woman before her, Alida noted that she did not seem overly surprised. After a moment she sighed. "Yes, of course. Just a moment while I gather supplies." She strode over to some cupboards near her office. "Miss Bagnold, you'll need to lie down on one of the beds," she called over her shoulder.

Alida bit her lower lip and tried to blend in with the walls, suddenly wishing that she had not followed her friend here. She was almost frozen in indecision and discomfort. Long ago she had vowed that she would be strong for Maggie, if no one else, no matter what the circumstances. But this…she didn't know what to do about this.

Sirius led Maggie to one of the beds, but she didn't climb onto it immediately. Alida heard a faint sob, and Sirius turned to look at the girl he had just dragged to the Hospital Wing. His eyes flared wide for a moment as though he were noticing her tears for the first time.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

Alida almost didn't hear Maggie's answer. "I'm scared. I don't…I don't want to know…."

His face softened and he wiped her tears away with quick, efficient strokes of his thumbs. "How about this then," he said. "I'll loan you some of my legendary Gryffindor courage for a spell. I won't even hassle you about paying it back."

Maggie gave a short laugh that was distorted by a half-snivel.

Sirius bent and lifted her up into his arms, then gently placed her on the bed. When he made to withdraw, Maggie snatched his hand and held it so tightly her knuckles were white. He let her.

If Alida had been uncomfortable before, it was nothing compared to now. She had always wondered what her friend had seen in this crude, arrogant pillock, but she had a feeling she'd just seen a glimpse of precisely that. Alida had always scoffed inwardly at Maggie's insistence that Sirius was different when they were alone, but maybe there really was another side to him.

Except they weren't really alone this time. Alida swallowed and averted her eyes.

Pomfrey approached the bed with a few items tucked under her arm. "I'm going to need you to take a step back, Mr. Black," she said brusquely. She reached out, grabbed the curtain, and began to bring it around to create some privacy.

Sirius didn't move immediately. "Why? It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said with a smirk.

Maggie released his hand and swatted him on the arm, hard.

His smirk became a more genuine grin. "There's my girl."

Without another word, he backed away and let Pomfrey pull the curtain between him and his ex-girlfriend. Maggie and Pomfrey now hidden from view, Alida studied Sirius with curiosity. He leaned against the wall, straightened his cuffs, and studied some potions on a nearby shelf. Without Maggie to keep his attention, however, he seemed to finally sense Alida's company. His eyes found her and he froze for a moment, as though not sure how to react. Alida chewed her lip and looked at her shoes.

"All right there, Lida?" his voice rang across the room. "I didn't hear you come in."

Her eyes darted up to look at him, and she shrugged. Her voice was somewhat caught in her throat.

It was embarrassing to say the least, but even after knowing him for six years, Sirius Black still intimidated her. She didn't have Maggie's confidence and forcefulness. To Maggie, Sirius was just a young man—a young man she loved, but a young man nonetheless. To Alida, Sirius existed out of her spectrum. He was too handsome, too brilliant, too confident—too much. He made her feel even smaller than she was, not deliberately, but simply by the fact that his presence was large enough to fill a room, and his strength radiated off him in waves. She felt insignificant by comparison, and never knew what to say to him.

The two of them stood there in strained silence for a few minutes, the awkwardness a tangible thing between them. Alida could hear the large clock on the wall ticking, each second punctuated by the sound.

When at last Pomfrey pulled back the curtain, she announced for the benefit of all three of them, "Miss Bagnold, you are not pregnant."

Alida saw Sirius, who had seemed so composed just a moment ago, sag against the wall behind him in apparent relief. He rubbed his face in his hands, and spoke over Maggie, who had started to ask the Healer a question.

"You're sure?" he asked for clarification.

Pomfrey nodded. "Quite."

A smile formed on Sirius' face, and he had the look of a man who had just dodged the Killing Curse. Then something seemed to occur to him and he turned a suspicious glare on Maggie.

Pomfrey saw this, and rushed to the young woman's defense. "It was a reasonable assumption on her part, as my examination shows that she has not had her monthly in over eleven weeks." She turned to Maggie. "I can only wonder that you didn't come to me earlier."

Maggie said nothing, her eyes fixed on her knees. Pomfrey, however, was clearly waiting for a response.

Sirius remained unaware of this. He pushed away from the wall. "In that case, there is an essay for Flitwick calling my name," he said as though they had been discussing the weather a moment ago, and not his prospective fatherhood.

"Wait!" Maggie reached for his wrist, but missed.

Sirius turned to face her.

"You…you could stay…."

He was shaking his head even before she trailed off. "No I couldn't. We're done, Maggs. Even if you were pregnant we'd still be done." He paused. "I'm…past you, pet," he added, his cold words in contrast with the surprising gentleness of his voice.

Maggie began to cry again.

Sirius thanked Madam Pomfrey, nodded to Alida, and left.

For a moment, the only sound in the room came from Maggie's weeping, but Pomfrey broke the silence. "Miss Bagnold, the reason your menstrual cycle has halted is because you have lost an extreme amount of weight in a short period of time. You are well below your healthy weight range. Am I right in assuming that you are not eating?"

Maggie did not respond, but with Sirius gone, Alida found her voice. "Yes. She hasn't been eating."

Pomfrey scowled. "Your body is too undernourished to support a child, so your reproductive system has shut down. There are also mystical narcotic substances which I'm sure no Hogwarts students would be foolish enough to use, that destroy fertility as a side effect. Abuse of these is usually accompanied by vomiting, nose bleeds, and extensive memory loss." The Healer let that sink in, looking pointedly at Maggie's raw nose which had probably bled four times in the past week. "As these drugs are illegal, I'm sure you know nothing about them. But if anyone were using them, I would, of course, heartily advise this person to dump them down the nearest toilet before permanent damage to the circulatory, reproductive, and nervous systems occur."

Alida winced at the look on Maggie's face, but she hoped that Pomfrey had reached her friend in an area she had not been able to assert any influence at all.

Pomfrey gathered her supplies and carried them back to their proper place, leaving the two girls alone. Maggie buried her face in her hands and began to bawl in earnest now. Alida sighed in what could have been interpreted as relief. This she knew how to handle.

She climbed up beside her friend on the hospital bed and wrapped her arms around her. Maggie turned her face into Alida's neck as the sobs shook her.

"He's gone, isn't he?" The words wrenched from Maggie's throat. "He's really gone this time."

Alida wished that she could lie, but knew it would be of no use. "Yes. He's gone."


Lily was watching James sleep, curled up on her side next to him. He really was quite a heavy sleeper. He looked even more boyish in his slumber than he did awake, though some of that may have been owed to the sprinkling of almost translucent freckles on the bridge of his nose she had discovered. His glasses rested on the bedside table, and he almost didn't look like himself without them. His bare chest rose and fell with his even breathing, and his tightly muscled arms were stretched above his head. There was so much contained in this boy, he overwhelmed her, befuddled her. But now it was all silent.

A wave of affection tore through her. She was mad about him.

Shifting slightly to keep her leg from falling asleep, she winced as dull pain shot through her. She was quite sore, but then, shagging whenever one could manage it would do that sort of thing. Even if their lovemaking had been tender and slow every time, it was likely she'd still ache. James, however, was rather…vigorous more often than not. Lily didn't mind in the least—in fact, feeling him pound and rut into her was heavenly while he was doing it. Not only that, there was a perverse sort of satisfaction that came from being shagged raw. She couldn't take so much as a step without being reminded that James had been inside her, and suddenly, even though she was already sore, she couldn't wait for him to be again.

He did have his odd little quirks, though. She supposed all blokes did, if Melody was to be believed. He liked to leave his glasses on as long as possible. She understood that, she supposed, if he really was as blind as he seemed without them. But more often than not, they became a bother before she was finally forced to remove them from play. He wouldn't kiss or touch her in public, and most certainly not in front of his friends. He would hold her hand as he walked her to classes if the crowds were heavy, but that was essentially it. She supposed she didn't mind much as she was a bit of a private person herself, but he had always seemed the affectionate type. He was certainly demonstrative with his mates, and she couldn't help but wonder why he would throw his arm around Remus' neck, but not hers.

The habit of his that had her most perplexed, however, was that he would not let her pleasure him. He had never said or done anything overt, but things always seemed to take a turn when she tried to lavish the same attention on his body that he did on hers. James had made love to her orally on several occasions, but Lily had never been able to give in return. He would distract her with beguiling kisses if she started to move in that direction, and she found herself beneath him in a matter of moments more often than not. She supposed it really wasn't something to complain about, except that it seemed odd. And, well, she rather wanted to reciprocate—quite badly in fact. Strange, but the act became inordinately appealing when not accompanied by Rafe's importunate wheedling. "Come on Lily, please suck me off."

Maybe…if she woke him up a blow job things would be different?

She considered that for a moment, and had to stifle a giggle at the thought of the look on his face when he realized what she was doing. But she didn't have the heart to wake him just now. He had been running himself ragged all week, and she had no idea how he even had the energy to shag her after the four and five hour Quidditch practices he put himself through every day. Today, he had spent the morning down at the pitch, and then the afternoon serving detention with McGonagall. It wasn't even time for dinner yet, but he was sleeping soundly.

Her hand reached out and stroked his hair lightly. It stuck out at weird angles even worse when he slept, but it was always so soft.

Lily was just withdrawing her hand when she heard a shout.

"Prongs!"

She jolted at the sound of Black's voice, sitting up and tugging the sheet to cover her nakedness reflexively. She heard James groan beside her.

"Prongs!"

It took her a moment to register that the yelling was coming from the drawer in James' bedside table, not the common room.

Grumbling profanely, James stretched his hand out to pull the drawer open, his eyes still closed. Lily watched as he withdrew a small cosmetic mirror displaying his best mate's face. "What the bleeding fuck do you want?" he demanded.

Black seemed to find that amusing. "Just to see if you fancied a game of Exploding Snap, but I can see that you are otherwise occupied." He tilted his head to the side appreciatively. "You were right, mate. I'll never say a word against her tits again."

Lily gasped. She had covered herself expecting someone to come through the door, never anticipating the intruder might approach from the right. From the front, she was as modest as could be managed, but from the side…. Without thinking, she had just exposed a decent side-shot of her naked body from chest to bum, though she didn't know how much Sirius had actually been able to see given his angle.

She reacted faster than she would have thought possible, whipping the sheet up to shield herself, but James was even faster. He plunked the mirror down in the drawer and slammed it shut, Black's laughter still audible.

James turned to Lily, now wide awake, his eyes fearful. "I am so sorry, Lily. I wasn't thinking…."

She shook her head. "It's all right," she reassured. And it was. Mostly. After all, it was hardly news that his best friend was a pig. Black's sense of humor may have been inappropriate, but Lily was reasonably unashamed of her body and she very much doubted the interloper's glimpse would be in any way memorable for him. The rumor mill had it that Black had seen far more naked witches than was his fair share. But then, so had her boyfriend.

Lily stopped those thoughts right there. She didn't want to get herself jealous.

None of that prevented her from being mightily embarrassed. Reclining back against the headboard, she strove to calm her blushing skin. She felt James caress her cheek, and she lifted her eyelids to look at him.

"Are you sure?"

For a moment she was struck dumb. Without his glasses, his hazel eyes seemed so intense and…close. They were gorgeous—a million different colors fading into each other.

His brow furrowed. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yes. Your eyes are just so pretty."

James seemed a bit bemused for a moment. Then he laughed. "My eyes are pretty?"

There was nothing to do but kiss him. How could she have ever thought he was a fling, a rebound? Pilar's advice had fallen by the wayside, and she hadn't given it a second thought all week. It had been ludicrous to think she would be able to walk away after experiencing what it was like to have James make love to her.

She paused. Pilar's advice—the second set. She hadn't thought of that either. Mostly because thinking while James kissed her was hard. What was it her friend had said? Real intimacy, an authentic bond. She had told Lily to put herself out on a limb. Terrifying advice, that was. But it somehow felt…right, so very right just now.

Lily pulled back from the kiss. He watched her, slightly puzzled.

She bit her lip and tried not to be distracted by the sheet that had crept so low it barely covered his hips. Intimacy, right. Her mother had always said that true closeness came from knowing the best and worst of each other, and not allowing either to weaken the bond. By showing the other person the parts of you that were normally hidden, and allowing them to show you theirs. She considered that a moment and lit upon an idea.

"Potter, tell me a story about you."

"What?" he chortled at the suddenness and strangeness of her demand.

"Tell me about something you're ashamed to have done. Something that haunts you—a bad memory," Lily elaborated.

He studied her for a moment, his smile fading. "You're serious?"

She nodded.

"Now?"

"Yes."

He looked away. After a moment he slid down, so that his head again rested on his pillow. She followed suit, lying beside him. The seconds ticked by, and after a time, Lily became convinced that he was not going to respond. When he spoke it seemed sudden.

"I grew up in the West Country, in this little village called Godric's Hollow."

"As in…?" Lily let the question dangle when she realized she had interrupted him.

But he answered anyway, nodding. "The very same. My family's estate is a fairly big place, just on the outskirts. We have quite a bit of land, and there's a pond about a mile down from the south end of the house. Every spring and summer we would get all these ducks and geese. I used to love to feed them, and my mother would take me down with our old bread a few times a week. She would read to me while I threw the crusts in the water." His face was pensive. "I really liked the baby geese. They were bigger and funnier looking than the ducklings. I wanted to keep one as a pet," he smiled ruefully. "My mother was scandalized—the thought of a filthy bird running rampant through her pristinely kept home."

James rolled onto his side so that they were facing each other. "When she said no, I went and sulked in the stables. There was a room there in the back that used to be a living quarters. Nobody lives there now, but a few generations back, when the Potters were much more respectable and had loads more money than we do now, the stable master slept there."

Lily grinned. "If I didn't know better, Potter, I'd say you were trying to impress me."

James barked a humorless laugh and his face was grim. "If only, love. If only."

Her mirth faded.

"It was just this little room with a cot, a basin, and a cupboard. I used to hide there when I wanted to be alone. It was also where I stashed anything I didn't want my parents to find.

"Well, that day, I waited a few hours and then snuck back to the pond. I tried to catch the goslings, but they were…quite a bit faster than I had anticipated. I fell in the pond, of course, and the mother bit me as well."

Lily's smile reappeared at the image of a young James scurrying about his family's pond, chasing baby geese.

"Finally," he continued, "I managed to catch not one, but three. I took them back to the room in the stables, shut them in the cupboard temporarily, and then slipped into the house to change out of my wet clothes before my mother saw me.

"When I came back down, my father heard me and called me into his study." James averted his eyes and traced the embroidery on his pillowcase with his finger. "He had just bought me a new broom, the first of the Nimbus series that I ever owned. It flew higher and faster than any broom I'd ever been on. Five seconds on the thing and I was in love."

He glanced back at Lily, and she didn't think she'd ever seen him looking so dour. "I forgot about the goslings," he told her, and she inhaled sharply. He nodded. "They died. I was horrified when I found them. Their little bodies were so shriveled and limp, and their faces—" he broke off.

James rolled onto his back and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. "I wrapped them in a blanket and buried them over by the pond. I never told my mother why I didn't want to go visit the ducks and geese anymore, and after a while, she stopped asking."

Silence stretched between them for a few moments before Lily spoke.

"How old were you?"

"Five or six," he replied. He rubbed his face with his hands. "Look, you said you wanted a bad memory."

She moved closer to him and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He looked at her in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Comfort."

It seemed that he didn't know how to respond to that, so she kissed him again, this time on the mouth.

When she pulled back, she whispered, "I once burned down an old mill."

He raised a brow at that, something of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"It wasn't on purpose," she defended, knowing what he was thinking.

"Yeah?"

She settled so that she was on her stomach, propped up on her elbows and facing him. "I was born up north, in one of those ghastly industrial cities. Sooty air, dirty streets, and all that," she said playfully. Really she was rather fond of her home. "My dad's a foreman, so we do well enough—not like Sev's family." The last part slipped out without her even thinking about it. She swallowed briefly, then pushed on.

"Dad smokes like chimney and Mum's always on him to give up the 'disgusting things.' Maybe he should have listened to her, because when I was about twelve, curiosity got the better of me and my elder sister Petunia."

Lily reached over and pulled her pillow to her. "Tuney and I didn't do much together at that point—though we did more then than we do now. We haven't really gotten on since I got my Hogwarts letter and she didn't. Sev thought she was jealous, but I wonder if she was just lonely. I left her behind and entered a new world without her. It's just become worse with the years."

This time she didn't stumble over the mention of Severus. It went against the purpose of what she'd started to avoid the subject. The point was telling the truth about the things she wished weren't true. If the travesty that came of the friendship she'd had with Severus Snape didn't fit that definition, she didn't know what did. Besides, the reality remained that he was far too intrinsic to this story, to the whole of her adolescence, to cut around.

Then there was Petunia—she was talking to James about her sister. Lily didn't even talk to her closest friends about Petunia. She took a deep breath; this was much harder than she thought it would be.

"It was important," she pushed on, "to have Tuney in on it, to convince her that she wanted to try it too. See, my sister is something of a snoop and a tattletale. The only way I could ensure that she wouldn't find out and tell Mum and Dad was to have her every bit as culpable as I was. Luckily for me, Petunia had discovered boys at this point and she had a mad fancy for Morgan Baxaron." She shot a conspiratorial grin at James. "Absurdly enough, Morgan's younger brother Rafe was my first proper boyfriend."

Lily raised her hand to sweep her hair out of her eyes. "Morgan was far too old for Petunia—he had just started at university and she was barely fourteen, but there was no use telling her that. She began taking her tea without cream because she heard that Morgan didn't care for it. She wore blue almost every day because it was his favorite color. So, when Tuney saw him smoking one morning in the alley, I knew it was the only chance I would get.

"We took two of my dad's cigarettes and snuck out one night. I was afraid of the dark streets, so I brought Galahad, our old Great Dane, with us. I think Petunia must have been as well, because she didn't complain even though she hated that dog. The old mill was just out of the city. No one had used it in a good fifty years for work, but children played in it quite a lot. The place was in such disrepair that bushes and the like were growing up from cracks in the floor."

Lily stopped. She was getting to the hard part. James reached out and caressed the side of her face with his palm again. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

"We reached the mill, and lit up. We each had a few puffs. I rather liked it; she didn't. She said we ought to go back; I didn't want to. One thing led to another, and Tuney and I did what we do best: we rowed. I won't bore you with the details, but the gist was that I am a supernatural freak, and she is tiresome prig. I threw my cigarette away and stormed out with Galahad—don't know why. She was the one who wanted to leave, and I was the one who wanted to stay, but I guess it carries as much sense as anything else in our relationship."

She opened her eyes. "I was almost across the field and back to the sidewalk when Galahad started to bark. I turned around and saw that the mill had caught fire. My cigarette must have landed on a bush or something, and with the summer having been so dry, it didn't take much for the blaze to get out of control." Lily swallowed heavily, tears pricking her eyes. "I ran back, of course. Petunia was still inside. Either she couldn't get out or she was panicking so thoroughly that she couldn't think straight. That was certainly the case with me. I was absolutely useless. All I could do was scream, and cry, and circle the building calling her name. I swear, it never even occurred to me to use magic."

She grasped James' hand to hold it in place against her cheek. She knew he wouldn't like this next part. "I don't know how Severus knew I was in trouble, but he always knows. He drew his wand calm as anything and cast the most elaborate spell I've ever seen. This gigantic hand made of smoke lifted Petunia out of the fire and dropped her on the grass without so much as a burn. Don't get me wrong when I say this, because there are quite a few gifted wizards and witches in this school, but Sev's a prodigy. I mean, my God, he was only twelve. Of course, he has a bit of an advantage—his maternal grandfather is always teaching him all sorts of wild spells." A realization dawned on Lily, one so obvious in retrospect that she felt foolish. "Dark spells," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

She remembered that she had run to him and thrown her arms around his neck. It was without a doubt the longest, tightest hug she had ever given. It was also the first time she had kissed Severus on the lips. It was a kiss of celebration and thanks. He had saved her sister, and in that moment, she wouldn't have cared if he'd used an Unforgivable to do it.

But she didn't tell James any of that. He wouldn't take kindly to it, and baby steps toward intimacy or not, some things just weren't his business.

She snapped from her reverie. "Sev received a formal warning from the Improper Use of Magic Office, informing him that if he cast another spell outside of school before he became of age, he would be expelled. But he said that he didn't regret it. He walked with us back home and helped me sneak Petunia inside.

"The next morning, at breakfast, Dad was in a rage about damned irresponsible kids after he read the morning newspaper. Tuney and I never confessed. We were too ashamed, a-and worried; the man who had owned the mill was dad's boss."

Her hand dropped from James' wrist and she looked down. "I think it was the last straw for Petunia, though. Magic terrified and repulsed her more afterward, not less. She thanked Severus by clubbing him with a tree branch, and she's barely said a word to me since."

Lily rested her head on the pillow in her arms, and fought the urge to recede into her thoughts. She glanced up at James and saw that his eyes where burning with lots of questions—questions she wasn't ready to answer. Just telling the story left her exhausted and emotionally raw, so she took preventative measures.

"Thank you," she said before he spoke.

That took him aback. "For what?"

"For just listening."

She saw him take the hint, and he nodded, slight disappointment on his face. Lily felt bad cutting this session in "real intimacy" short, but she had nothing left to give just now. She would answer his questions, she promised herself, just not right now.

He collapsed back against his pillow and sighed. She hesitated, then sidled up to him, resting her head on his chest and throwing her leg between his. She couldn't see his face, but somehow she knew that he had smiled when she did this. He kissed the crown of her head lightly and the two of them rested in silence for several minutes.

James was the first to speak. "So, you're not an Arrows fan by chance? You're right in Arrows territory it sounds like, and if you support them, you know I'll have to dump you."

She smiled. "No. Actually, I support the Wasps."

He made a choked noise of surprise. "You're a bloody Stinger? Don't guess that goes over well where you're from."

"Well, I don't go around telling people, now do I?" she turned and propped her chin on his chest so that she could see his face.

"You told me."

"You asked."

"The Wasps aren't bad, but I'm a bit of a Falcons man myself."

"Yes, but the Falcons don't have Dirk Lehane."

That tripped him up a bit. "He's a…fair Keeper."

She nodded, though she didn't really know. "He's also right sexy."

"Ah," realization shown on his features. "So you pick which Quidditch teams to support by sorting through the pretty faces, is that it?"

"Obviously," she teased back. "I can barely follow the game itself. There's got to be something there for me to watch. And you shouldn't complain—I support Gryffindor not because it is my House, but because they have a right sexy player, too."

"Damn it! Not you as well? I knew it—all the girls love Sirius," he pretended to be upset.

She rolled her eyes. "No, of course not Sirius. Why would I be interested in a bloke with hair shinier than mine?"

James wasn't finished playing. "Well, then…hmm. McGonagall and Vane are out right out, unless you favor birds. Robbins and King likewise, unless you like crass wankers with extra chins, or duffers with breath so foul it could kill flowers. Latchford then?"

She picked up her abandoned pillow and hit him with it. He wrenched it from her grip and flipped her over onto her back, pinning her arms above her head. He kissed her hard on the mouth. She responded heartily, then used her legs to throw him off her.

Their playful wrestling degenerated into playful shagging, and they were late to dinner.


"Um, Severus," Regulus' voice intruded.

Severus looked up from his Defense essay. The younger boy was looking nervous and uncertain. He was chewing on his lip and his eyes kept darting to the floor.

"I…may have just done something really stupid," Regulus told him as he lowered himself into a seat beside Severus at the study table.

Severus didn't doubt that. "Indeed?" he said coolly.

"Well, Jill and I were in bed just now, and she was doing her usual prodding about our assignment. My brain, ah, wasn't doing much of the thinking, and I said something I oughtn't and she…sort of, figured something out," Regulus related in a halted and worried sort of voice.

Severus waited a moment for him to continue. When he didn't, Severus prodded. "Well?"

The younger Black winced at his tone. "She—she put together that my brother and Potter were the informants that got Dexter killed."

Severus shot to his feet. "She what?"

Regulus looked down but didn't repeat himself. Severus fairly growled. For Salazar's sake, this boy was a moron—he'd put the entire Death Eater movement at risk for a bit of cunt. Jillian was not likely to sit on this information. She would to do something reckless, and therefore ineffectual, and she would do it immediately.

"Where is she now?" Severus demanded.

Regulus shrugged helplessly. "After Sirius and Potter, I expect, but I don't know where…" he trailed off because Severus was already striding from the Slytherin common room. Regulus jumped up to follow.

Fortunately, if one were heading directly from the Slytherin dungeons to Gryffindor Tower, there was really only a single obvious path. Severus and Regulus caught up with Jillian down the fourth floor corridor. It was just before curfew, so the space was deserted. Severus didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"Petrificus Totalus," he cast.

Jillian seized up and pitched forward. Regulus caught her before she hit the floor, but only just. He looked up at his mentor as if asking what to do now.

Severus instructed by example. Not even pausing his purposeful steps, he stooped, lifted the girl's ankles and motioned to Regulus that he intended to carry her into an empty room.

The Muggle Studies classroom was eerily lit by the moonlight that filtered through the windows, and the walls were lined with harebrained contraptions only non-magical people could dream up.

Severus and Regulus hefted Jillian onto Professor Mudan's desk. "Enervate," Severus reanimated her with no small amount of reluctance.

She vaulted down from the desk quicker than Severus expected, and kicked him in the shins.

"Bastard!" Jillian was fairly spitting like a feral cat in her rage.

"Jilly!" Regulus took hold of her arms and pulled her back against him.

"Insipid bitch," Severus snarled as he gripped his leg.

She made to attack again, but Regulus' voice rose desperately. "Stop it, please!"

Severus took several breaths to calm himself, but his face was still twisted malevolently. Jillian was glaring at him as though she wanted to kill him.

Deciding to take control of the situation, Severus released his leg and stood as tall as his lanky body was built. "If you attack Potter and Black now, you'll succeed in nothing but putting them on their guard and alerting Dumbledore. A plan is already in place," he said in a tone that brooked no disagreement. "Regulus and I will deal with those hyenas."

"Wait," Regulus was alarmed. "We will?"

Severus nodded.

"I don't believe you," Jillian declared venomously.

Severus raised a brow at her coldly. "Just what do you think our orders are?"


Author's Note: I call this my Frankenstein chapter. The Alida/Maggie/Sirius scene was originally slated for chapter 9; the Severus/Regulus/Jillian scene for chapter 10; and James' inner monologue in the first scene was meant for what would have been chapter 11, but is now chapter 12. All these scenes had in common was that they didn't really fit where I had originally planned them to go, but they were too important to cut completely. The one with Lily and James in bed was the only new stuff, but it's also what pulls the other three together. All and all, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out, especially since it wasn't in my plans and these sections were all originally written to have taken place weeks from each other (I've now smooshed them all into a single Saturday and I wasn't sure if that was going to work).

Thanks so much to my wonderful beta pili204 for editing this chapter so fast it blew my mind, and thanks to all my reviewers! You guys are what keeps me writing.