"Minister," said a voice in German, "you have a visitor."

Huldrich Ehre barely looked up from the parchment in front of him. "Send him in."

The German Minister of Magic had weathered the storm of an especially trying day, and was quickly growing tired of entertaining his visitors. It didn't help that they seldom had anything nice to say. His heavy frame, built more for battle than for signing his approval of department budgets, creaked the chair beneath him as he leaned back and scratched a jumble of sad blond hair that had once been luscious.

The door opened, and he looked up with tired eyes at his latest visitor. It was a man, young and handsome, with hair of brightest blond and the eyes of someone about to tell a joke. "I am sorry to interrupt your work, Minister."

His German was imperfect. Huldrich tilted his head. "Your accent, is it British?"

"It is indeed."

"I do not particularly trust the British, of late." The visitor didn't seem sure how to respond, and Huldrich gestured to the chair opposite him. "Please, sit." When the man was seated, Huldrich steepled his fingers and leaned forward. "How may I help you?"

"I am very interested in all that you have accomplished, Minister. You have been on the cover of the Daily Prophet's Wizards of The Year for two consecutive years, after all. Your work around Muggleborn rights is being admired by the higher-ups in London, in the hopes of replication."

Huldrich simply inclined his head in response.

"You popularized the idea of a 'Muggle-born revolution' in your national address last year - that more and more Muggle-borns are rising up to stand alongside Purebloods as equals. Though you are a Pureblood yourself, people see you as a leader of this revolution, alongside the likes of Albus Dumbledore, and the late Eugenia Jenkins. However, some small things do not quite make sense to me. You acknowledge that Muggle-borns are being empowered within magical society, and purport that we are closer than ever before to equality, but I am afraid I do not comprehend the correlation."

Huldrich regarded the man shrewdly. "It is not difficult to comprehend."

"Minister, look at the world as a whole. Wizards and Witches live in hiding. That is not equality."

"If we were in the open, the natural progression is a complete magical takeover of society. That would be far worse. While now we must simply hide in the shadows, the alternative would be to crush the Muggles under our heel."

"You seem to think that is not an inevitability," the man snapped. He sat a little straighter. The unsureness left his eyes like it had never really been there. "After two world wars, their technology has come incredibly far. One day an unwitting Wizard will be caught on their cameras and his face will be on every television screen in the world. Their shiny new weapons of mass destruction will be turned on us in an instant. And then what?"

"They will never use nuclear weapons on us," Huldrich said, shaking his head. "There would be no way for them to prevent harm to their own people."

"You think they care?" cried the man, jumping to his feet. "Look at what they already do to their own people! Japan! Vietnam! Auschwitz! The Muggles are savages, dear Minister. They derive pleasure from the infliction of pain. Pride from subjugation."

"And you think we are any better?" Huldrich asked quietly. Slowly, he rose to his feet. "House-elves live only to serve us. Giants are almost extinct, dragons live almost exclusively in captivity. Centaur meat is a delicacy in most countries."

"Giants and dragons have to be few and far between, just so Muggles may be kept in the dark," the man roared. "Because we live in hiding, magical creatures are forced to suffer! I have travelled far across the world, Minister. I have seen so much suffering. We can end it all by taking over."

"You're a bigot," Huldrich spat. "Believe me, I have encountered these arguments many times over the course of my career, and I will no doubt encounter them many more still. By 'taking over', we will only put Muggles into the same disadvantageous positions our magical creatures are in now. Believe me, I do all I can to protect magical creatures. This status quo is not perfect by any means, but every day we move closer towards a better one. We must remain in hiding. We live in relative peace because we live in the shadows, allowing the Muggles to live blissfully unaware."

"Blissfully unaware," the man repeated softly. "In English, we have a word for that. You might know it. Blithe."

Huldrich froze. His eyes narrowed. "You…" he said softly. "You are the man they are talking about in the papers."

"Blithe is indifference. Blithe is carelessness." Anton Windstrum stepped closer to Huldrich's desk, leaned against the polished wood. "Blithe is oblivion."

"Guards," called Huldrich. His breath almost caught in his throat.

"All dead, unfortunately. They recognized me. Sharp bunch, though I suppose I am something of a fugitive these days." He titled his head. "I must say, it is nice to be home. Did you know I am German? My parents were, anyway. Big Grindelwald supporters, too. When he fell, they moved to England, and," he grimaced, "learned to love Muggles. They like the television, I think. Their past used to embarrass me, until I left school and started travelling. I became enlightened. This world will be a better place. For the greater good."

Huldrich slowly lowered himself back into his chair, and once more steepled his fingers over his desk. "Why are you here?"

Windstrum gestured vaguely. "Take over the country, strike fear into the hearts of men, all sorts of dastardly villainous things. I don't have much of an appetite for most of it, so I take the fun jobs when I can. Such as this." Footsteps drew near from the other side of the door. Windstrum went to open it, and looked back at Huldrich as he twisted the handle. "Huldrich Ehre, I would like to introduce you to the Dark Lord. He has been dying to meet you."

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Lily's thoughts whirled and pranced, did the waltz around her head for a few minutes, before she rode them to the end of their rope, and she put the letter down. "Shit."

"What?" asked Marlene, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Is it your sister? Is she being a nutcase again?"

"It's my sister, but she's being quite kind, actually. It's…" Lily looked around the Great Hall, perhaps for some way to summate her thoughts, then back to Marlene. "You know how we're selling our family house, seeing as neither of us wants to live there without our parents?"

"Yeah."

"We have a buyer."

Marlene paused. "That's… great?"

"It is, yeah. Except the family that's buying it wants to move in by some time around," Lily grimaced at somewhere above Marlene's head, "now."

"Now?"

"Right now, yeah."

"As in…"

"As in, right now as we speak, they are there. To live."

Marlene brought the fork to her mouth and bit. Then she crunched her breakfast for a few moments, lowered her fork, and swallowed. "You don't have a home."

"I don't have a home."

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Alice frowned. "I don't get it. Just stay with one of us."

"No," said Lily forcefully. "Stop asking."

The three girls sat in the shade of the tree by the lake. Alice stared at Lily, not for the first time wondering what in the world was going on in the girl's head. "You know Marlene or I would love to have you. My parents love you, and Marlene's…"

"They tolerate you," said Marlene, nodding. "But we have plenty of room, so they can't complain."

"I'm not staying with either of you, for the same reason I'm not taking up Petunia on her offer to stay with her. I appreciate all offers very much, but I won't have any of it."

Alice turned to Marlene in exasperation. "She complains about Potter being full of himself all this time, and she's every bit as bad."

"Prideful," said Marlene. "To a fault."

"A big old fault."

"So, what's the plan, then?" Marlene asked. "You going to live on the streets?"

"I'm going to work during the break to pay my lodgings somewhere else."

"Why?" Alice asked. "Just so you can say that you didn't rely on your friends when you were in a tough spot? That's all?"

"That's not all," Lily muttered.

"That's all," said Marlene.

"It is not."

"Lily…" Alice rubbed her eyes, "you're exhausting."

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James reflected upon how the four boys had actually never intended to be known as the 'Marauders'. Their precious map's title, as Remus had frustratedly ranted about in their dormitory shortly after they'd first heard the term being used by other students, "has an apostrophe before the S for Merlin's sake! Otherwise we would have called it The Marauders' Map!"

Peter had then shamefacedly confessed that, after failing to quite wrap his head around apostrophes for plurals, he had blabbered to a great number of students about how he and his infamous three best friends would henceforth be known as the Marauders.

And so the Marauders they were.

Giving themselves a name, James reckoned, had further bolstered their celebrity within the school. Their influence, and the admiration and envy they received, ballooned out of control. And though he no longer found that as thrilling as he once did, it wasn't as though he could suddenly undo it all.

"Come on, Potter, two minutes."

"I'm trying to eat my breakfast, Tarkin."

"It's almost lunch," cried the other boy determined to annoy James that morning, Thorpe.

James looked up from his generously buttered toast and scowled at the two. "Do you think I don't know that?"

"Let's just hear them, Prongs," said Sirius. His plate was relatively full too, and he looked just as impatient. "They'll go away sooner."

"Exactly," said Tarkin excitedly.

"But that will just validate annoying me all morning as a way to get my attention," James said, wrinkling his nose.

Remus sighed. "What if I listen to them, and you just ignore them and continue eating your breakfast? Will that make you happy?"

James deliberated on this for a few seconds, before nodding and wordlessly turning to his food.

Remus looked at the two boys. "How can we help you two today?"

James tuned them out completely, and focused on his meal. Tarkin and Thorpe were fifth years, if his memory served him right. They were likely popular enough among their peers, but James had no patience for them. Both of the blond haired and blue eyed boys were rather eager to please, and much too talkative for James' liking.

"We're the leaders of the Performing Arts Club," said Thorpe, "and we didn't get many new members this year so we want to do a show to try and showcase how fun it is, and if the Marauders were to be there-"

"No," said Sirius. "Now that we've settled the matter, you can leave us in peace."

"But-"

"I said no."

After a moment of looking at the expression on Sirius' face, unreasonably ferocious with gleaming eyes, the two hung their heads in defeat and left. It occurred to James how poor of a mood Sirius had been in recently. When he'd told James that he and Marlene had split up for good, James hadn't quite anticipated how much it would affect his friend. James realized he had underestimated the depth of the relationship between Sirius and Marlene.

It made James' plan for the rest of the day somewhat awkward.

"I don't want to," said Sirius venomously, as the four boys walked by the Great Lake.

Ahead was the tree that, on any given sunny day, one could always find students lounging under, wishing to sit in the shade by the lake with their friends. It was one of the school's most sought after hang-out spots, and presently James knew it was exactly where a certain redhead and her friends would be.

Remus rolled his eyes. "You and Marlene breaking up doesn't mean we can't still hang out with the girls."

"Yes it does," said Sirius immediately. "It will be uncomfortable. The wound is still raw, and-"

"Padfoot, being around her more often will be good for you," said James. "Like closure."

"You just want to see Evans."

"Yes, I absolutely do."

"That's a conflict of interest right there."

"I don't think that's what a conflict of interest is."

"No, he's right," said Peter. "It's a conflict of interest."

"Don't you go agreeing with him, Pete," James warned. "He's wrong."

"It is a conflict of interest," Remus muttered.

"Look," James huffed, "I also want to see Marlene and Alice. Marlene's my Chaser, and Alice is my ex."

"It's always strange to hear that," Peter mused.

They came upon the tree by the lake, tall and offering a wide berth of shade, but no girls sat under it. There were instead a few fourth years playing Gobstones, and James turned to his friends, frowning hard. "I checked the map not ten minutes ago. She was here."

"Girls," said Sirius, shaking his head. "We can never get it right, eh, Prongs? They think it's cute to be unpredictable. I guess we're in the same boat."

"Yes, Padfoot," said James distractedly as he looked about. "Exactly the same."

"They must have gone back inside for lunch," said Peter. "It's around that time."

"That must be it," said James, lighting up. "You know, even though I just stuffed my face, I'm actually starting to feel quite hungry. What do you guys reckon?"

"I am extremely full," said Sirius stiffly.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "I didn't think I'd ever hear those words from your mouth, Padfoot."

"Alright," said James, clapping his hands. "We're all hungry, then. Let's be going-"

"Potter!"

James beamed and whirled around. "Alright, E- erm, McGonagall?"

Professor McGonagall paused before the four students, with Professor Sprout a few steps behind her, looking through some sheets of parchment. "Yes, I am fine, Potter, thank you. I simply wish to congratulate you all. Your sixth year has come to an end, and there have been no childish practical jokes played upon your classmates. You have all grown up by a significant amount over the past year, and I could not be more proud." She paused, then nodded curtly. "As you were."

She walked off with Professor Sprout in the direction of the green houses, and Sirius turned to the boys. "What was that about?" A few moments of clueless silence. Then, "She… I think she's challenging us. Am I right? She just challenged us."

Remus looked concerned. "You know what? I actually think she might be."

"Why?" James asked, scratching his head. "I suppose this is our last week of sixth year, and she knows that we always do an end of year prank. And she knows that we know she knows it. But why would McGonagall ever want us to do a prank?"

"Is it like a dare?" asked Peter hesitantly. "As if to say we don't have the audacity?"

Sirius shook his head. "Minerva, Minerva, Minerva."

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Lily stopped by the entrance to the greenhouse and cleared her throat. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

Professor McGongall was peering down at an assortment of potted plants, and she glanced up briefly at the sound of Lily's voice before turning to Professor Sprout on her other side. "These will do just fine, Pomona. Ms Evans, good afternoon. I trust you are well?"

"I'm alright, Professor," said Lily. "And you?"

"Quite fine." McGonagall joined Lily at the greenhouse entrance and paused. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Walk with me to the castle, then, Ms Evans."

"Okay," said Lily slowly. McGonagall had never struck her as a conversationalist, nor the type to seek company. She wondered if she was in some sort of trouble.

After they'd made some progress upon the path leading up to the castle, McGonagall spoke again. "There are a few matters I must discuss with you, Ms Evans. Primarily of monetary concern."

Lily's stomach knotted. The words'monetary concern' were rarely uttered in fun conversations. "Right."

"It has come to my attention that you will not have a home, come the end of term."

Lily blinked rapidly. "How…"

"Gossip moves blindingly fast in this castle, Ms Evans."

"But I've barely known for a day."

"Blindingly fast."

"Right." Lily grimaced, and looked sideways at her teacher as they walked. "So…"

"I have no doubt that your friends have offered you their homes for the summer break?"

"They have, yeah."

"I also have no doubt that you rejected their offers."

Lily frowned. "What makes you so sure?"

"I have been the Head of Gryffindor House for many years, Ms Evans. I am quite familiar with students who have more pride than they often know what to do with."

"Right," said Lily again, looking away.

"There is no shame in accepting kindness, Lily."

"It's not that," Lily said quickly. "It's not shame."

McGonagall didn't respond.

"Sure, maybe a small part of me is too prideful to accept their offers, but… that's not the main reason. I don't know. There are a lot of reasons. My parents just died. I wouldn't feel right, going to Alice's or Marlene's, bringing my sadness to their home and joining their family at the dinner table, like some sort of imposter, or trespasser. I want a place that feels like home."

"A home can be many things to many people. Expecting any place to immediately feel like what you have lost is a difficult task."

"There's more," said Lily. "I don't… Their families are whole. Happy. Happy enough, at any rate. As happy as one can be, given that they're at least alive. I think it would be painful for me, stepping into a complete unit and standing on the outside, looking in. I reckon I've gotten quite far through my personal grieving process, but I don't think I'm in a place yet where I can stomach something like that."

Again, McGonagall didn't say anything.

"Petunia offered to let me stay at hers over break," Lily said, wrinkling her nose. "My sister, that is. She and Vernon, her fiancé, have their own house now. Privet Place, or something rather. We were on poor terms for a while, it's a long story, but recently things have been a lot better. Except… it's fragile. Even though she offered, I don't want to push things, and undo the progress we've made. So I won't stay with her, either."

McGonagall spoke after a few more seconds of the two trudging silently up the path. "That is a difficult equation to solve, your friends not being fully able to comprehend your loss, and their homes, while no doubt happy and welcoming, being possibly unhealthy for your current mental state."

"Do you not think it would be?" Lily asked defensively.

"On the contrary, I think it is entirely likely. The smallest things can affect us in the biggest ways. Especially when we are at our most vulnerable."

"You understand, then."

"I do. I had suspected as much. Perhaps not all of that, but enough. You will rent a home, then? A flat, or apartment?"

"Yes. I've already started looking for cheap places in London. As expected, there are not many."

"No, I would imagine not. This is why I have sought you out, actually. Of the many overdue changes Eugenia Jenkins made during her time, there is one that applies specifically to Muggle-borns in your precise situation. I have the forms prepared already, awaiting yours and the Headmaster's signatures."

Lily frowned, racking her brain. She'd been an avid Jenkins supporter, after all, and was annoyed to find herself at a loss for what McGonagall referred to. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Professor."

"Ms Evans, if you so desire, you will receive an allowance from the Ministry, of which you need not pay back a Knut, for as long as you study at Hogwarts while paying board for any lodgings outside the castle. It is not an immense amount, but I imagine it will go a long way towards easing your stress management over the break."

Lily stopped walking. "Professor, I cannot accept that-"

"There is some pride I will tolerate, Lily Evans, and there is some for which I have very little patience. When life gives you pumpkins, you must make pumpkin juice. It is well past time you do so."

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When James and the boys stepped back into the Great Hall, the sullen and subdued atmosphere in the room stuck out like Snape's nose. The chatter passing across the tables, usually raucous and filled with energy, now sounded more akin to small talk at a funeral.

"Something's wrong," said Remus.

James hung his head. "Lily's not here."

"No, look around. Why does everyone seem so dull?"

"When Lily's not around, everything seems-"

Sirius gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Prongs, something must have happened. Oi!" A third year walked past with a copy of the afternoon paper in hand, and Sirius snatched it off him. "Let's see that." The boys gathered around Sirius, scanning the front page and ignoring the scowling third year.

"Hm," said Remus.

It was an obituary for another series of killings having taken place the previous night. Politicians and leaders. Some names James recognized, others were foreign, and obscure. Needless to say, they'd found the source of the dampened mood. These sorts of papers always darkened the day.

"Now it makes sense," said Sirius, a gleam in his eye.

"What?" James asked, still looking at the paper.

"McGonagall does want us to do a prank!"

"What?" James said again, looking at his friend now. "Did you hear what you just said?"

"Look around, Prongs! It's the last few days of term and everyone's spirits are intolerably low. She wants us to cheer them all up!"

"I agree with Sirius," said Remus quietly, as the four boy went to sit at the Gryffindor table, and set about piling food onto their plates once again. "That was a request from her, looking back." Sirius opened his mouth, looking excited, and Remus continued. "However, I imagine she is expecting something in particular. Something that will make every house happy, that will cheer everyone up rather than pick on a few."

James bit his lip. "We're one hundred percent sure that this is what McGonagall wants? We're not over-analyzing?"

"I really think she wants us to do something, James," said Remus. "Fun, and for the whole school."

"I don't know how that would work," said Sirius, frowning. "The whole point of a prank is that someone has to be a victim. The whole school can't be in on it. Otherwise it's not a prank. It's barely even a practical joke!"

"And therein lies the challenge," said Remus. "This might just be our most difficult prank yet. We have to do the impossible."

"To make people laugh without picking on anyone," James mused. "Quite the conundrum."

The others grunted their agreement. For a few moments there was silence, as each boy chewed their food and gazed around the Great Hall ponderously. James' eyes came to a stop when he spotted Tarkin and Thorpe, sitting further down the table with a few other students, presumably the rest of their Performing Arts club, their heads all bowed in defeat.

James turned to look at Sirius. "Hear me out."

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On the last night of term, people still seemed generally downcast. Dumbledore gave a speech that garnered some chuckles, and the feast was grand, with every dish being someone's favorite, but everything seemed a little less vibrant, and there was nothing to be done about it. The mood had pervaded the school for days. A casualty of war, Lily supposed.

"I'm surprised at you," Alice told her while they ate. "The train comes at eleven in the morning tomorrow and you're not even packed yet. The Lily of years past would have had a fit."

"The Lily of years past has… passed," she replied. Her eyes lingered further along the table. She hadn't talked to James in a number of days, not properly, and the more time that passed, the more aware she was of it. The break was going to be a nightmare.

"What do you reckon?"

Lily looked at Marlene on her other side. "What?"

Marlene nodded in the direction Lily had been gazing. "Their prank. They always do one at the end of term."

"Oh, right." Lily looked back at the four boys and thought about it. She wanted to say they had grown beyond that sort of thing, but she caught the look on all their faces. She reckoned she knew James Potter very well by now, and he only wore the look of innocence on his features when he was in the very thick of some mischief. "Oh, bollocks."

"I hope they don't go overboard," said Alice. "I'm not sure everyone's in the mood for it."

"I'm not sure those four ever account for what anyone's in the mood for," said Marlene. Lily noticed the girl was looking specifically at Sirius.

"Merlin only knows what they have planned," said Lily absentmindedly.

"Why would Merlin know?" asked Alice.

"Isn't that-" Lily frowned. "That's the saying. Magical people swap 'Merlin' with 'god', so I said, 'Merlin only-'"

"We do no such thing," said Marlene bemusedly. "We say, 'Merlin's beard', sure, because Merlin had a very long beard. But we don't go saying, 'Oh, my Merlin,' now, do we?"

"I- Well, I suppose not."

The Great Hall went quiet when Dumbledore stood and spoke, wishing them a safe and happy break, and that they may return for their next year invigorated and ready to learn once again. They clapped, he bid them all a good night, then there was an explosion in the Entrance Hall.

Everyone gasped as waves of heat and sound washed over them, and all heads snapped over to stare out at the source.

"Those absolute hooligans," Marlene breathed.

A dragon was in the Entrance Hall. Lily couldn't believe her eyes - she never thought she'd see one in the flesh - but there it was, defying logic and reason. Red and enormous, it curled up by the staircase and looked in at them all, eyes flitting around lazily. It was almost too big for the Entrance Hall, there seemed to be no space for it to move, and it looked into the Great Hall, seeing all the space and short meals it could ask for, and it's eyes betrayed a hunger as immense as its body.

The teachers, after a moment of bewildered staring, rushed and clambered down together from their table, racing out to the Entrance Hall. McGonagall barely spared James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter a contemptuous glance as she stormed past. Lily heard her mutter, "This is what happens when they're given a chance."

The teachers launched jinxes at the dragon as soon as they were close enough, trying to move it back. Once all of them were battling it, their spells careening harmlessly onto the creature's hide, and no more teachers were left in the Great Hall, the gigantic doors between the halls creaked and groaned, then shut behind the lot of them.

There was a moment of silence in the Great Hall, with just the students left, and before absolute chaos had the chance to rear its head, James stood up onto the Gryffindor table and raised his hand. All heads turned to him.

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present: The Sleeping Dragon!"

He made a sweeping gesture, and all candles in the Great Hall were suddenly extinguished. The only light in the hall left was from the stars above them all, glittering down from the enchanted ceiling.

Then wandlight briefly shone onto James' face. "Also that wasn't a real dragon, it's a boggart. Did you know Wendall Pyke's worst fear is a dragon? Anyway, enjoy the show."

His light went out, and there was darkness again. Confused mutterings among the students filled the room for a few seconds, before the candles on the teachers' table all lit up. Only, the teachers' table wasn't there anymore.

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James sat down, his smug grin identical to that of Sirius, Remus, and Peter's, and the four boys watched with the rest of the students as the raised area at the front of the Great Hall that usually housed the teachers' table lit up, candles raised above it, cleared of the teachers' table and completely bare, but for Tarkin standing at the centre, beaming out at them all. "Welcome, fellow students! The Hogwarts Performing Arts club, in association with the Marauders, are excited to present to you, The Sleeping Dragon! A play of Hogwarts' founders four, but with an exciting twist - you get to choose the ending!"

After a moments' silence, applause broke out among the students. James looked around with satisfaction as he observed interested, even excited expressions on his fellow students' faces. The Slytherins, as always, looked somewhat sour. The four boys had been well aware that they were effectively taking all the students hostage for the show, regardless of whether or not they wanted to watch it, but to open up those giant doors for the students would be to allow the teachers to shut this all down. To do what McGonagall had asked of them, the boys had resigned themselves to making her very, very angry.

"So," continued Tarkin, "sit tight, enjoy your meals, and please refrain from talking during the show."

"Meals?" James heard a few confused voices murmur.

Curtains materialized, hanging from nothing, and obscured what was now the stage. Once again the only sources of light were the stars above them all, and James had to shine wandlight on his face again and stand on the table to reclaim attention. "If you would all please stand."

He waited, and looked at them all expectantly. They weren't too happy about that one. Grumbles and unenthusiastic chatter rose, but once all arses had left seats James and Sirius waved their wands and all the tables and rows of seats vanished completely. They waved their wands again, and before the stage appeared rows upon rows of picnic blankets, many filled to the edges of their fabric with stacks of delicious night time sweets and treats, steaming mugs of cocoa and fresh, thirst-quenching pumpkin juice. It was much too much food for the students to hope to run out of, and the mutterings instantly turned appreciative, the faces excited again. James even spied a few Slytherins fighting over picnic blankets and food, and he turned to the other three.

"We've done it, boys."

"Steady on, Prongs," said Sirius, and the four made their way over to an empty picnic blanket. "The show hasn't even started yet."

"Well, I have a fantastic feeling about it."

"You four are something else, really."

The boys looked over to see Alice smiling and shaking her head, bringing with her Frank, Marlene, and Lily. They had gathered food and drink, more than necessary for all eight of them, and Frank dragged another picnic blanket over for them to join the four boys.

"We do try our best," said Remus, smiling back.

"What on earth compelled you to team up with the Performing Arts club?" asked Frank.

"We decided to do a prank for everyone this time," said James. "Our very first time."

Lily threw him an appreciative smile, and James winked. They hadn't properly chatted in a couple days, and her smiles were hitting his gut extra hard. Alice and Frank sat down next James, and Lily was forced to sit with Marlene on their other side.

"What did the boy mean by we get to choose the ending?" Marlene called over.

"That was our idea," said Peter happily. "Their original play was boring, so we spiced it up here and there. And to get everyone even more interested and attentive, we're all going to choose how it ends!"

"Fascinating," said Lily. "Honestly, I approve."

"We're glad," said Remus. "Pay attention now. It's starting."

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Behind the curtains, Tarkin and Thorpe stood together dressed in frilly robes and tights - their Godric and Salazar costumes. With them were Elisa and Theodosia, two very pretty girls who were the only other members of the little acting troupe, dressed as Helga and Rowena respectively. At the back of what was now their stage was a makeshift dressing room Remus Lupin had conjured for them, with a Disillusionment charm cast upon it to hide it from the audience once the curtains were drawn.

"We wanted exposure to get new members," Eliza hissed to the two boys. "I thought that would mean a performance to perhaps thirty students, not the entire school!"

"What did you say to the Marauders?" asked Theodosia, looking genuinely impressed. "How in the world did you get them to help us?"

"They see Tarkin and myself as their proteges," said Thorpe with a smirk, sticking his arm out to lean against a wall. When he found no wall, hand groping thin air, he stood straighter and put his arms behind his back. "They think rather highly of us."

"Yup," said Tarkin. He tried to shuffle a little closer to Eliza. "I imagine once they leave Hogwarts, the mantle of resident pranksters will fall to us."

"Right," said Eliza, grimacing.

"It's true," said Thorpe, giving Theodosia what he must have thought was a wink but what came across more as an involuntary twitch. "We're going to be a big deal."

"Okay," said Theodosia, with the restrained air of feigned interest. "Great. So, erm, we're ready for act one, then? Shall we begin?"

"Right." Thorpe straightened. "We're beginning."

"Let's begin," said Tarkin quickly. He turned, stumbled into Thorpe, and they each disentangled themselves and hurried on.

"Are you girls ready?" Thorpe asked, striding to the curtains. "This is going to be absolutely- How do you open these?"

"You pull the rope," said Tarkin.

"I'm pulling."

"Here, move aside. I think it takes two."

"The curtains are charmed," said Eliza. "Pulling won't-"

"Hold on, love, we've got it," said Tarkin, sparing her a gracious smile.

"Are you pulling, Tarkin?"

"I'm pulling."

"Pull harder, then- Oh, I think we pull this one actually."

"Right you are, Thorpe. Okay, let's pull."

"On three. One, two-"

"Why would you count it down? Just pull it now!"

"Ah, right you are, Tarkin. One, two-"

"Just pull!"

"Alright, I'm pulling!"

Eliza and Theodosia shared a glance, one which they'd been forced into growing quite accustomed to sharing, and together they lifted and waved their wands, and-

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The curtains parted. Tarkin and Thorpe blinked out at their audience for a few seconds, and silence followed. James frowned. This wasn't the captivating start he'd envisioned.

"Hark," cried out Eliza, in her yellow Hufflepuffian gown. "Here come two brave warriors!"

Theodosia clapped her hands over her cheeks and huffed, blue dress willowing around her. "As I live and breath! It's Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin!"

After a few seconds, Tarkin stopped blinking dumbly and stood at full height, puffing his chest out. "Indeed, it is I! Godric Gryffindor!"

Thorpe quickly matched his friend's movements, making them perhaps even grander. "And I, Salazar Slytherin!"

There were cheers and boos from different parts of the audience at both boys' announcements. James smiled. That was better.

"We have come from far away, survived fierce battles, fought all manner of man and beast, and now we have returned."

"Yes," said Thorpe, "and we are best friends!"

"Yes, very best friends! Nothing will ever break our bond."

Thorpe nodded. "Ever."

Some of the students giggled.

Peter leaned close to Frank. "The joke is that they do actually stop being-"

"I get it, Pete."

James, while looking around at the faces of each student, caught a look on Sirius' face, eyes fixed upon Marlene. And they burned with intensity.

"Aye," called Tarkin, "we know each other's every thought! There is no secret between Godric and Salazar."

James nudged him, and Sirius glanced at him in surprise, the intensity fading. "Let's go for a walk."

To the left of the stage was a door that led to a chamber with portraits adorning the walls. James and Sirius had spent many detentions cleaning these portraits. Admittedly, they had received just as many detentions for vandalizing them in the first place.

"What?" asked Sirius when James closed the door behind them.

"We need to talk about McKinnon."

"How much do you think there is to talk about, Prongs? Seriously. It's over. Stop bringing it up."

"It's over to her, sure. But don't try convincing me that it's over for you. We're far too similar for me to ever believe that, and we've both seen how bad I am at letting things go."

Sirius scowled. "What is there to talk about? I already told you. She broke up with me, she's getting married, and there's nothing I can do. Sure, you're right. I haven't let her go yet. I haven't even begun to let her go. I'm not sure I can. But that doesn't mean I haven't given up, because I have. Like I said, there's nothing I can do."

Sirius had turned as he spoke, facing a portrait on the wall with his back to James. They were both quiet for a few seconds. Sirius' breathing was heavy. James waited, perhaps for a minute, before prompting him. "That's not all, though. Is it?"

Sirius' voice was strained, and he spoke quietly. "I lose everything, Prongs. Every time something good sneaks its way into my life, I lose it. Every," his shoulders shuddered, "time."

James walked to him quickly, put a hand on his shoulder, settled it. "It might seem that way, but you know it's not true. I'll always be right here. You think you'll ever lose me?"

"No," Sirius muttered.

"Or Remus? Or Peter?"

"No."

"Never. You'll likely lose much, much more in your life, but there are some things you have that will never leave you."

Sirius turned. If there had been tears on his face, James saw no sign of them. Sirius grimaced. "And I suppose one of those things is you?"

James clapped his shoulder and smirked. "Always."

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"Fight, fight, fight," chanted Mulciber and Travers, pumping their fists with all the rest of the students.

"You lied to me," Salazar roared on the stage, brandishing his wand grandly.

"No," Godric yelled back, pulling his own wand out. "You lied to me!"

"Oh, yeah?" Salazar's face broke out into a snide grin. "When was the last time you saw Helga, old friend?"

Godric narrowed his eyes. "What are you implying?"

"Months, perhaps?" Salazar laughed. "I can tell you why that is. It is because she has been in my bed!"

The students all gasped. Mulciber clapped a hand over his mouth and looked at Travers, who had a look of equal shock on his face.

"I'll kill you," Godric bellowed.

"You will try!"

Mulciber whooped. "Get him, Salazar!"

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At the interlude, Remus flicked his wand, lighting up all the candles in the Great Hall once more. He'd had to conjure a makeshift toilet at the back of the hall halfway into act two, cursing himself and the boys for their lack of foresight. Now students rushed to this group of wooden structures Remus had hastily put together, while the rest of them restocked their picnic blankets with more food and drink.

Remus looked over as James and Sirius returned at last, and called to them. "You've missed half the play."

James shrugged. "We wrote the play. I'm sure we'll manage to keep up from here."

"And what a fantastic play it is," said Alice, her eyes dancing. "You've managed to make a story we've all heard a million times interesting again. And it's so brave, too."

"Thank you," said James, smiling. Then he paused. "Brave?"

"Yeah, I mean it's a brave move to make the main characters a same-sex couple. You don't see that every day."

"Same-" James shook his head. "What?"

He then heard snippets of conversations from the picnic blankets around them.

"I cannot wait for Godric and Salazar to get together. I'm so impatient I think I'll die."

"Yeah, why have they been dragging it out for so long? I thought for sure it would have happened by now."

"They have so much chemistry, too. They're going to make such a good couple."

"Prongs," Sirius muttered, "I think we were away for too long."

Lily was watching James' face, seeming to be holding back laughter. "You didn't plan this," she said. "Did you?"

James shook his head. He looked around. Every student was talking animatedly among themselves, and the only words he grasped were, Godric, Salazar, and, We're so close to it, I can feel it!

He was positively baffled. "How on earth do you all think the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin is romantic? They hate each other!"

"Potter," said Lily, "sometimes that's the most romantic thing in the world."

James' throat constricted for a second as their eyes met and he coughed. "On occasion, perhaps. But the founders? Really?"

"We can hardly complain," said Remus. "It seems to be half the reason they're all enjoying the show. The only problem is, now they're expecting it to happen. We might have to change the script at this point."

Just then, James heard his name being called and he turned. Tarkin and Thorpe approached, each beaming. Other students would call and wave to them, and the two would puff their chests out, their grins inflating to the point of bursting.

"We have to thank you, Potter," said Tarkin. "This has all really worked out splendidly. They love us!"

James smiled, wondering if Tarkin had yet realized the reason the students suddenly loved them. "No problem."

"We're very excited to see what kind of ending all these adoring fans cook up for us," said Thorpe. "We haven't heard a peep from the other students about it yet, so don't tell us!"

"I won't," said James truthfully. "Listen. As planned, we're going to collect their votes on slips of parchment. Now, boys, however the audience decides the play ends, that's how it ends. Do you understand me?"

"James," said Tarkin, laughing and throwing an arm around James' shoulder. "We're professionals! Of course we'll stick to the plan."

"The audience knows best," said Thorpe, smiling broadly.

"Good men," said James. He clapped them both on the shoulder, and sent them off. Then he looked at his friends. "I'm very lucky those two annoy me so much. It makes being dishonest a whole lot easier."

When enough time had passed Remus extinguished all the lights again, all students took their seats, the curtains slid open, and the play resumed.

"I'm leaving," Salazar roared. "But I will have my revenge, Gryffindor. I have left something. A creature, as deadly as it is enormous. And… it is very enormous! One day my heir will come to this school and exact my vengeance upon you!"

Theodosia held a hand over her heart. "Salazar, no!"

"You would do that, old friend?" Godric asked. "To the school we dedicated our lives to making a reality?"

"If it would make you suffer?" Salazar raised his arms in a mighty gesture. "I would do anything!"

"Oh, Godric," cried Helga, running to him and taking his arm. "Please, don't let him do it!"

Marlene leaned over to James. "I'm not a fan of how both the females in this play are little more than damsels in distress."

James opened his mouth.

"That was my idea," called Sirius, sitting on the other side of James and Remus.

Marlene glared.

James scratched his nose and chose not to say anything.

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It took Professor McGonagall longer than she'd care to admit to realize the dragon was a mere boggart. Once Professor Kettleburn vanquished the boggart, his worst fear being his wife, the teachers all focussed on the door.

It took Professor McGonagall longer than she'd care to admit to figure out how in the world to break the seal on those doors, too.

"Mighty talented wizards, those four boys," chortled Professor Slughorn, who watched with his hands in his pockets while McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick struggled with the door.

McGonagall exhaled sharply through her nose as yet another spell dissipated into the polished wooden doors. "Where is Albus?" she asked the rest of the staff. "I haven't seen him since the dragon appeared."

"Boggart," Slughorn corrected.

"Maybe he's checking the school's defences," Flitwick suggested. "As far as he knows, a dragon has been smuggled into the school!"

"But why would Potter and his friends go to so much trouble just to keep us out here?" Sprout asked. "What kind of prank is that?"

"An extremely foolish one," said McGonagall sharply. "When I am through with those boys, they'll never want to prank again."

"First we have to get to them," pointed out Slughorn.

"Perhaps you would like to do the honors then, Horace," McGonagall suggested.

"I will do my best," he said cheerfully. She stepped aside and he took her position, breathed deeply, and raised his wand.

There was a loud click. Slughorn opened and closed his mouth quickly, then tilted his head.

"I've done it," said Flitwick, lowering his wand. "Let's go."

"Yes," said Slughorn. "Filius and I seem to be on the same page. Let us go!"

Sound escaped past the doors now. Laughter and cheers. McGonagall pushed through the doors and slipped into the Great Hall. She spent a good few moments marvelling at the scene before her. The others teachers joined her, bemusement turning into understanding and soon amusement.

"Marvelous, isn't it?"

McGonagall whirled around. Just by the doors, Albus Dumbledore sat cross legged on a picnic blanket laden with sherbet lemons and Fizzing Whizbees. He looked up at her, the corners of his piercing blue eyes crinkled, half-moon spectacles folded and lying on the blanket.

"They've put on a fantastic show."

"Will you ever see Salazar again?" Helga asked on the stage, hands clutched to her chest.

"I know not," said Godric, shaking his head sadly. "I know not."

Dumbledore popped a candy into his mouth. "I especially enjoy the direction they chose to take the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin in. It's… refreshing."

McGonagall stepped closer to his picnic blanket, and as she watched the show on the stage, and the audience clapping, laughing, cheering, booing, enjoying themselves, the fury slowly left her eyes. "Hours ago these students were ending their school year dejected and scared," she said quietly.

Dumbledore didn't respond.

"I had been right, it seems then, to defer to those four to lift morale. Would you agree?"

"Oh," said Dumbledore, chuckling, "I most certainly would."

"They have a knack for this sort of thing. They always have. Until recently they never used it appropriately. What do you think changed, Albus?"

"The world changed. And it changed them." After a few more seconds, Dumbledore added, "One of them in particular."

She knew, of course, who that was. "He has grown remarkably in a very short amount of time. Now he is a fantastic leader."

"He was always a fantastic leader."

"Was he?"

"The potential was always there. It is a matter of cultivating that potential, Minerva. That is what we do here. That is our job. You have always asked why I am so lenient on those four boys." Dumbledore pointed to the stage. "It is to reach this point."

McGonagall crossed her arms. "You knew, then. Didn't you? From the first time they stepped foot in this school, you knew we would eventually reach here. And, in fact, alongside Ms Evans, we have two students who, in their leadership, stand head and shoulders above their peers. You knew that James Potter would one day be our strongest contender for Head..." She shook her head and laughed dumbly. She couldn't even say it. Dumbledore, as expected, seemed not to share her surprise.

"I guessed. And my guesses have, usually, been good," Dumbledore said happily.

The two were silent for what seemed like a long time, and McGonagall could only shake her head.

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It had been no secret to James that Tarkin and Thorpe very much fancied Eliza and Theodosia respectively. He had written their love interests into the play accordingly, after all, and spared apologies for the two girls only in his mind.

The play had been intended to end with both couples getting together. It had been intended to.

The four cast members stood on the stage, 'frozen in place' while James and Sirius gathered parchment from all students. "Godrizar? Gryfferin?" a third year girl contemplated loudly. "I don't know what to call it!"

With all parchment collected, the James and Sirius analyzed the data.

"Right," said Sirius. "There's no avoiding it now."

James wrote on one more piece of parchment, hurried to the stage, and passed it to Eliza. The four characters unfroze, and James rejoined his friends on their picnic blanket.

"I've just received a letter from my father, offering his advice," Eliza said to the other three.

"What did he say?" asked Tarkin.

"Yeah, what did he say?" asked Thorpe.

Both had their wands pointed at each other's throats.

Eliza put a hand to her mouth, and it looked to James like she was stifling a giggle. "He says… He says he wants you two to-" She cleared her throat and put on a serious expression. "Godric, Salazar, my father says it is time for the two of you to be together."

The two boys paused.

"What?" asked Tarkin.

"Your love has been forbidden all this time, but now my father offers his blessing."

Sirius shook his head beside James. "This makes no sense within the context of the story."

"Shush," Alice ordered.

Theodosia took a peek at the parchment in Eliza's hands and turned, the cogs turning behind her eyes. She was beaming. "It is time. Oh, great warriors… kiss!"

The audience grew raucous. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Thorpe tried to say something, but it was lost to the crowd, lost to the chanting, the excited bellows. Both boys' eyes searched the crowd, then rested on James pleadingly.

James gave a stern nod, and furrowed his brows as threateningly as possible.

Tarkin and Thorpe glanced at each other. The chanting picked up pace and volume. After a few more seconds, they seemed to accept their fates. They screwed up their faces, grimacing and wincing already, eyes shut tight, noses wrinkled, and stuck out their chins. They moved closer. The crowd grew into a frenzy, the chant unintelligible from screams now. Noses touched.

Then, at last, tightly shut lips pressed together, and the Great Hall erupted. The embrace was held for all of three seconds, then the two boys shoved each other away, spluttering and coughing and wiping their faces. The audience cared not, going wild, throwing food into the air, applause and cheers filling the room. James even spotted tears on a handful of faces.

Eliza and Theodosia rushed forward gleefully, linked arms with the two boys, and the Hogwarts Performing Arts Club bowed as one amid applause so great, one might think the four had just won the House Cup.

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The teachers had taken charge afterwards, ushering students to their dorms and wishing them all a safe trip home. McGonagall had looked ready to give James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter the talking-to of their lives, but at a touch on the arm from Dumbledore, she sighed and turned to lead some first years from the hall. Dumbledore had seemed amused by what had transpired, congratulated the four on a job well done, and instructed them to tidy up the Great Hall.

A fairly light punishment, Lily reckoned, but she didn't much care these days.

Frank, Alice, Marlene, and herself had elected to help the four boys, and they were making light work of the task.

"You still need to pack your bags, Lily," Alice called as she vanished a few picnic blankets.

"I know."

"What time do you have to be there?"

"My landlord wants my tenant agreement by five. Otherwise, he says our agreement is void and I'll have nowhere to live."

"That sounds shady," said Frank, lining the house tables back in place with a charm.

"That's London," said Lily.

She didn't notice James turn to Marlene and Alice inquisitively, didn't register their voices.

Frank grimaced. "Yeah. Hey, I know you already said no to Alice and Mar, but-"

"No, Longbottom," Lily said flatly.

"Right you are," he said, nodding and focussing again on the tables.

She was grateful to all of them, of course she was. Their offers meant a great deal to her. It was no small order, to open one's home to another for months on end, regardless of how close they were. Be that as it may, she still could not do it.

Their full homes would only remind her of what she had lost. And none of them could comprehend that loss.

"Oi, Evans!"

Her head whipped around. James approached, with rolled up picnic blankets tucked under one arm.

"I hear you're going to flat in London?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"No, you're not." James walked on, went to roll up the next picnic blanket. "You're moving into my place. I need more company other than just Sirius and the House-elves."

"Oi," complained Sirius.

Lily's answer was much quicker than it should have been. Much simpler than it should have been. But, as sudden as it was, it was a quick and simple matter. Pride and hesitation were swallowed, and Lily nodded happily. "Okay."