Ok, I know- I have a valid reason for not updating. I was sick and Buckbeak ate my computer cables :D.

But I just know after this chapter, I'll be completely and utterly forgiven, I'll be welcomed back with open arms and people will be giving me gold plated Harry Potter novels!

James: Dude, that's like, never going to happen. (Since when does James say "dude"?) James: since ever!

OwlEyes: A girl can dream!

Lily: Oh James, can't you see she just likes being dramatic?

OwlEyes: I am the drama queen of the year as of 2007! (5 years off I know! But still...)

Anyway, don't you have a chapter to read?

Go on, get!

The drive home was silent, punctured only by tearful hiccups and thoughts.

James had his hands clasped tight in his lap, biting his bottom lip painfully, his stormy hazel eyes darting to Lily.

She was resting her forehead against the car window, her head angled so that a curtain of scarlet waves obscured her face completely from James's view.

The only thing that told him that she was still awake, were the small snuffles and throat burning hiccups that issued from behind her hair.

He didn't have even the foggiest idea of how to comfort her- and he was right peeved with himself because of it.

What a lousy boyfriend he was turning out to be.

He couldn't even keep the tears from his girlfriend's eyes- and what was worse, was that, if she did cry, he didn't know how to stop them rolling, fat and fast, down her cheeks.

The words left him in a rush of air and all he felt was pure misery at seeing her shatter, it was the raw kind of concern that he had only felt once before in his life.

Only once.

He had watched her hands smother her face, tears flowing out from beneath them, in the middle of the stuffy restaurant.

He had seen himself, as if from a distance, just stand there, agape, not knowing what to do.

He just went numb- like he had sustained a stunner to the chest.

He stumbled over to her, immune to the gazes of the people around them, gently taking her elbow and leading her to the door.

That was all he did.

It was Lily's mother who had picked them up afterwards- and, upon seeing the ghoul couple that had replaced the living, breathing, laughing humans she had seen merely hours before, she had said nothing.

And so, the ghoul couple had climbed into the car, in somber silence- a silence filled with thoughts.

The glass of the car was cool to my feverish forehead.

I closed my eyes, feeling tears still crowding behind the lids, some oozing out from underneath and catching on my eyelashes.

Petunia had given me such a look of disdain, such a look of dislike that it was worse than her saying anything to my face.

It was worse than calling me a "freak".

It was worse than calling James a "freak".

It hurt, like a million pin pricks.

It burned like a fresh stinging hex.

It wasn't the pain that it brought that reduced me to tears though, it was the way she had silently said, that she just didn't, wouldn't, refused to, understand.

Her unuttered words didn't connect with the situation of course, but her eyes did all the talking, and the conversation it conveyed, was a new one.

It wasn't anger about being turned into a pile of bitter whipped cream or Vernon catching on fire, but of course, that was there, too.

It had been about everything- not getting accepted to Hogwarts, her secret dream of having magic too, of not being able turn toads into teacups, her sudden decision to just not understand, to just stick a label onto my forehead and move on.

I didn't feel upset for myself, as people would expect me to be- being hated by my own sister and all.

I felt sorry for her- to not understand magic, to not see how beautifully wild and wondrous the wizarding world could be- it was sad.

Maybe I was reading into that one glare too much, or maybe I was right.

Either way, the situation hurt, no matter how much I complicated it.

Like Professor Slughorn would say, I was adding too many ingredients to the potion.

If I added too much, if I stirred too vigorously, it would get sticky and thick.

But- he was forgetting one thing.

If a draught of despair was thick and sticky, it was much more potent.

Alice was rummaging shame facedly through Willa's bombsite of a trunk, having all manor of things brush against her hand.

She later would swear she felt the feathers of an owl down there.

Tongue between her lips, her eyes set with a steely determination, her fingers finally closed around a scrunched up piece of parchment.

It wasn't just any piece of scrunched up parchment though, oh no, this was the scrunched up piece of parchment.

She straightened up, smiling triumphantly, gently folding the ratty square of paper in her hands.

This smile was quickly replaced by a pursed line and a furrowed brow that creased her forehead drastically.

If she were an owl, her feathers would have been thoroughly ruffled- practically fluffy with agitation.

Oh, shut up! She snapped at the moral voices raging a war in her head. It's for their own good- I just know it is! Besides, the two of them have been doing my head in! Their voices are still ringing in my ears from their last row!

Her two consciences continued to clash swords, but the vigor with which they fought had dwindled down to almost nothing, their swords dropping dismally to their sides.

Willa and Sirius's last fight had been just as explosive as the last, they had erupted like volcanoes at one another, spitting magma and blackened rocks- like two dogs just waiting to nip and swipe at the others ankles.

It had been like this for half the Christmas holiday, even Dumbledore belting out "God rest ye merry Hippogriff" didn't banish their fowl moods.

After each row, Willa would stomp up the girls' dormitory stairs, throw herself onto her four-poster and bawl her eyes out for half an hour, while Sirius sat, clutching his legs to his chest, looking surly and unresponsive in front of the common room fire.

Alice could have hit him with a Levicorpus spell and all he would do was spit flames in her direction, growling like a dog, all sharp teeth and crimson gums, before settling back into his gruff expression.

His rigid jaw hid his guilt as well as a fake invisibility cloak (which had begun to crop up on the Hogwarts black market these last few weeks) or Peter behind a couch cushion.

A teeny tiny couch cushion.

Willa would always deny the fact that she had shed more than one tear after a row with Sirius.

Her pride would swell and she would fold her arms, holding her head as high as she could, cricking her neck in the process and declare: "Me? Weep? Honestly Alice, you have such an imagination. Willa Tonks, cry? The thought is ridiculous. I traded my tears as soon as I could walk for a sherbet lemon."

Alice had finally cracked today, like the plates Peeves threw at the stone walls near the kitchens, to annoy the house elves who had spent hours cleaning them.

However, she was not alone in her plight.

The same strain was evident on both Remus and Peter's faces.

Remus seemed to practically grind his teeth when he spoke to Sirius- like he was fast losing his patience. He would have to stop and take a small breath before continuing, trying to drill some sense into his wild wand spark of a friend.

So Sirius is driving them bonkers too, huh? She had thought, noticing the irritated twitch Remus had developed over the course of three days and how Peter cowered whenever Sirius was within spitting distance, looking apprehensive and guiltily annoyed.

Drastic measures had to be undertaken.

There was absolutely no other alternative.

Alice knew Willa didn't have the guts to toss it; after all, she was grudgingly fond of her doodle.

Maybe it would have felt like chucking her feelings in the bin to her?

Alice could only guess why Willa had chosen to stash it, like some guilt ridden piece of evidence- which would ultimately stick her in front of the Wizengamot and be the one thing, which would doom her to a cell in Azkaban.

Knowing Willa, she would probably start playing cards with the Dementors and accuse all of them of cheating- when she was the one who had half the deck up her sleeve.

Alice knew this because she had participated in one too many games of exploding snap with the girl.

Willa just didn't have the capacity for guilt of any kind- or so she let on.

She's pretty smart, stashing it someplace booby trapped, Alice thought darkly, glancing back at the offending trunk.

Willa had changed the hiding place according to how observant Alice was, so locating it had been more difficult than her first study session with Frank.

Now that had left them both perfectly flustered and no homework had gotten done at all.

But now that the drawing was within her grasp she could carry out her dastardly plans unobstructed.

Muahaha, she thought.

Then; I kind of like playing cupid, I wonder how much it pays?

"What've you got there Sirius?"

"Something I'm not showing anyone, even if I snuff it… want to have a look then?"

"Honestly Sirius, I do not get you."

"I am a devilishly handsome enigma my dear Moony. I am not to be solved," he answered, winking cheekily in Remus's direction and sporting an arrogant grin that displayed his canine teeth perfectly.

"Those are some dictionary worthy words there Sirius. Don't tell me you've taken to eating books instead of James's footwear now? Or am I hoping for too much?"

"Ouch, Moony, that was painful, why do you have to kick my ego when it's down mate? It's bloody black and blue already."

Remus shrugged, looking coolly unaffected by Sirius's tone.

He was heavily disapproving of how he was acting after all. Sirius was being perfectly childish and Remus had taken special liberties to tell him so.

Something Lily had said to him in passing had been nibbling and gnawing away at his conscience.

It was what put him into action, what made him think harder about imposing his opinion.

Do something Lupin; you're a prefect too, aren't you!

"I don't know, maybe so you don't use such corny pick-up lines on anyone else?" Remus said, letting the sentence slip between his teeth while he lamented her words.

"Just keep abusing your dear, poor mate with words Moony; just keep on kicking a bloke when he's dead depressed. If I decide to throw my handsome self into the lake, it'll be on your head!"

"I doubt you'd do that Sirius."

Sirius barely paused before answering.

"Yeah, you're right; it would be too much of a loss for the female population. I just couldn't bring myself do something like that. I'm thinking of the ladies, not myself."

Remus had been trying to make Sirius show the tiniest shred of guilt since the whole Silver short-snout episode, and here, after wearing away at his rock solid ego for two days straight, were results.

Pathetic results, but Remus would take them nonetheless.

Sirius went back to the scrap of parchment in his hands, feeling less belated about it than before.

In fact, he felt deflated, like the tire on the second hand motorcycle he had gotten that summer.

He and Remus had settled in a secluded corner of the library, far from Madam Pince's razor sharp eagle eyes and hissed threats.

Since it was the last day of the week long Christmas break, only fifth and seventh years were lurking around bookshelves and hurriedly scribbling away at unfinished homework, their quills flashing through the air.

Sirius had begun digging around in his bag, his tongue between his lips, his eyes narrowed.

When he drew back he had procured a fresh, somewhat bedraggled, piece of parchment.

Remus opened his mouth to inquire casually, only to have his innocent question turn into a protest when Sirius, too lazy to delve back into his bag, plucked his quill from his fingers.

"Oi!" Remus spluttered. "That's my favorite quill…" he trailed off, his eyes falling onto the ruined scrap of parchment Sirius had begun smoothing out reverently.

The sketch looked like a photograph, only it wasn't winking or pulling faces- like all the existing photos of Sirius usually did.

Remus let out a low whistle, thinking better of reaching across and taking it so he could get a better look.

Something about the way Sirius had eased down the curled edges of it had put him off- he seemed protective of it, in a way.

Remus could almost see the dog like curiosity in his gray eyes, like he was mentally tipping his head to the side, his dark floppy ears perking up as he darted out a paw, touching the dry ink gingerly.

Sirius stole glances at it occasionally, eyeing it like an intrigued puppy, as he drew his own picture.

At first, Remus thought he was trying to copy it, but he soon found he was wrong.

After a couple of minutes Sirius sat back, beaming victoriously.

"There! All done, have a look Remus, am I an artist or what?"

Remus leaned across, perplexed.

One look at Sirius's masterpiece had him in stitches.

"Or what more like!" he gasped, clutching at his side, his shoulders shaking with hysterical laughter.

Sirius looked affronted, holding the drawing to his chest.

"Well that's not very nice of you Moony! I'm offended mate!"

Remus choked on his own hysterics, rubbing away tears of laughter and attempting to compose himself.

"Well, what's, that, err, thing supposed to be?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly with amusement.

"Willa…" Sirius mumbled to his shoes so that Remus had to strain his ears to catch what he said.

Remus nearly lost it again then, half from what he was calling "irony" and half because he found this very very funny.

Remus contemplated how to break his critism to Sirius kindly before answering.

"It looks like a troll in drag wearing an awful amount of make-up. Like the trolls doing ballet on that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor," he said with a wise nod, squinting at the drawing. "Is that a skunk on its head? A dead skunk?"

"No! That's her hair," Sirius cried loudly, giving his drawing a look of deepest disappointment.

It was then that Remus realized that he had maybe been a bit too brutal.

"Look, it's not too horrible Sirius, I mean, if you squint at it, it doesn't look half bad," Remus said, trying to heal the gaping hole in Sirius's confidence.

Sirius simply groaned and let his head drop onto the table with a bang, resting on top of the unfortunate drawing and smearing ink onto his forehead.

Remus sighed and patted his shoulder.

"Maybe art just isn't for you?"

Sirius wailed again, louder this time.

James couldn't get to sleep.

He was stretched out on the hard, unyielding camp bed, listening to the rain outside the house pounding against the windows, as if demanding to be let in, ready to soak both him and Lily.

The sound was hard and cold, like the miniscule drops were made out of steel not smooth clear rainwater.

Lily had crawled into bed as if exhausted, curling herself around a pillow and burying herself under her duvet, as if barricading herself in from the world in general.

James hadn't taken his eyes off the peach colored ceiling, knowing that if he didn't look there, his worried gaze would drift over and lock onto Lily's dark form, close enough for him to reach up and touch, if he stretched.

He could hear her still stifling dry sobs, and with each breathless sigh, sniff and shuddery breath, James felt himself slipping further and further into his own personal gloom.

The rain seemed louder in his ears. It cast watery shadows across the quiet room, rippling like water over the walls.

"James?" Lily whispered hoarsely through the dim light.

She had turned onto her back and was also staring up at the ceiling, a single tear running down her pale cheek and into her hair.

"Yeah, Lily?" he answered, his voice aching with concern.

"I think I need a hug."

"Is that an order m'lady?"

Lily gave a small, broken bell chime of a laugh.

"Comfort me, please…"

She had barely finished the sentence before James had heaved himself up onto her bed, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close.

Suddenly, the rain seemed to become a calm, pattering sound, like the paws of a dog against a wooden floor- relaxing and hypnotic.

James supposed that he had simply been waiting for permission, waiting for her to poke her head outside of her sadness and invite him in.

She needn't have asked.

I breathed in his smell of treacle, soap and wand smoke, curling myself into his chest, finding his warmth so much more comforting than my pillow had been.

He settled against the wall, cocooning us in my duvet and burying his face in my hair, his hot breath brushing against the back of my neck.

He held me protectively, his arms strong but gentle, like he was holding an egg instead of a person.

"I'm sorry," He murmured quietly, pulling back and resting his forehead against mine, his hazel eyes smoldering and sincere.

"For what?" I whispered sleepily in answer, settling against him and leaning my head onto his shoulder, listening to his steady heartbeat.

I felt him rest his chin on top of my head, watching the droplets of rain running down the glass of the window.

"I reckon I must've ruined everything tonight-"

"You did your best; you tried so hard for my sake. Don't you dare blame yourself or so help me James Potter, I'll hex your nose off."

"But I like my nose!" James chuckled, a warm throaty sound that created giant butterflies in the pit of my stomach and made my heart float instead of sink.

"So violent, but I guess that's why I love you. Don't stop giving me bruises; otherwise I'll start to worry."

He smiled and pressed his lips to my forehead, tucking a messy strand of hair behind my ear with a free hand.

I felt my face burn, but there was a smile on my lips too. I reached up and pulled his ear.

"Alright then, but you asked for it," I answered with a small laugh.

"Ow! Geeze, Lily, I'm trying to be romantic here, don't ruin the mood," he said in mock indignation.

I laughed tiredly, feeling safe and warm, protected against the elements.

We continued to talk to each other sleepily after that.

I could feel my eyes drooping and my voice trailing off.

I suddenly felt like I didn't need to cry- not ever again.

There! Next chapters a biggie people so look foreward to it! My apologies for my lateness (I'm AWFUL, I know it!) but I hope I'm forgiven!

See you!