Chapter Four: The Moon's an Arrant Thief

"Ugh," Lily groaned unintelligibly. "Food."

Arabella eyed her warily. "Are you sure you're alright, Lily?"

Lily was slumped onto the table, deep purple shadows ringing her closed eyes. She pointed at a dish of shepherd's pie some way off and gestured wordlessly for someone to give it to her.

Marlene spooned some onto her plate. "Lily, seriously. First you were up most of Sunday night patrolling, then you were up past midnight yesterday doing detention. How did that go, by the way?"

Lily thought back to their exchanged hexes and narrow escape from Sprout. "Fine," she said with a sigh. "Dandy. As perfect as possible when there's someone like Potter in the world." She reached blindly for a spoon, missed, and swore when her hand knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Marlene watched the growing orange stain with concern. "No, Lily, really. I think you need to go the Hospital Wing. You'll break something, carrying on like this."

Lily opened one eye to spear Marlene with her piercing green gaze. Then she resumed her efforts to eat lunch without actually seeing it.

"One thing," she said. "Can you tell me if Potter's there?"

Marlene twisted round in her seat to check. Over at the Slytherin table the Marauders sat in their usual seats, laughing loudly with the select circle of people permitted to sit beside them. Unsurprisingly, most of them had known family members who were Death Eaters.

"Potter's there," Marlene reported to Lily, "but Lupin isn't. You reckon he's ill or something again?"

"Probably," Lily said. She had the sudden urge to see if Potter looked as bad as she felt, and mustered the energy to raise her head. She scanned the Slytherins. There – lounging by Sirius, arrogance painted in every line of his lithely muscled body. She was struck by how similar he looked to her cousin. They both had black hair, though Potter's looked like he had never heard of a comb, and while Potter came off as being more charismatic, Sirius exuded more elegance.

Lily's fist tightened around her spoon handle at the thought of Potter's legions of adoring fans, and she shoved some more pie in her mouth. She knew better. The anger seemed to wake her up a little, and Marlene looked more relieved as Lily sat up straighter – at least until she keeled forward into her plate.

"Lily!"

Arabella grabbed her shoulder and shook her. Lily blinked owlishly, groaning.

"I don't… feel so good…"

Marlene pressed the back of her hand to Lily's forehead. It was burning hot.

"You get up right now, Lily, and get to the Hospital Wing," she ordered. "You're running a fever!"

Lily's head was pounding in time to an internal drum and the Great Hall seemed to be made up of vague colours and shapes. This time she didn't protest, standing up and waiting for the room to stop spinning before trying to set off. Arabella rose as well to escort her.

"I'll bring your bag back to the dorm for you!" Marlene called.

Lily leaned heavily on Arabella as she stumbled out of the Hall. In the past 48 hours she had had no more than a handful of hours' sleep, and it showed. Neither of them spoke as Arabella gently guided her into the Hospital Wing and called for Madam Pomfrey.

"Again?" the matronly young woman said disapprovingly. "Really, Miss Black!"

Lily made a beeline for the nearest bed and collapsed on it, not having the strength to answer. Her eyelids slid shut. When someone tried to pull her into a sitting position she moaned, trying to push them away, but they were persistent, whoever it was. Eventually she downed the drink being placed at her mouth and sprawled back down on the bed.

Lily slept.

When her eyes opened, she squinted for a few moments at the unfamiliar glaring white light before remembering where she was.

"Hey, Black."

Lily relaxed when she recognised the friendly voice. She rolled her body to the side and smiled at the person in the bed beside her.

"Hey, Lupin."

Her eyes widened in shock when she saw him. Remus Lupin looked… exhausted. And that was an understatement. The bruises under his eyes were ten times worse than the ones she'd had that morning, and tiredness lined every premature wrinkle on his face. Nevertheless he managed a smile at her.

"Pomfrey says you had a temperature. Feeling better now?"

"Yes, thank you," she said. Her headache had cleared up and she felt fresh. Rejuvenated, even. Lily swung herself upright and looked at him critically.

"What about you, Lupin? You look like death warmed over. What's wrong?"

He grinned a little at her blunt description but the amusement faded quickly. "Nothing's wrong. Just feeling a bit ill. Must be the weather."

"Right," Lily said doubtfully. If it had been anyone else she couldn't have cared less, but she considered Remus Lupin to be the only decent Slytherin out of the multitudes she had met. Plus, he was Head Boy. A thought occurred to her.

"I take it you aren't going to be there for Prefects meeting tonight then?"

He tried to sit up but flopped back with a groan. "No, I'll be here all night. Send my apologies."

"I will." Lily watched him for a few moments, her mind working. This wasn't the first time Lupin had taken a few days off school. In fact, she'd been noticing it since the start of September, and it was now the beginning of November. She spoke suddenly.

"How's your mother?"

He flinched. "What?"

"Your mother," Lily repeated. "Wasn't she ill last month? Roundabout this time, too?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "Yes. Thankfully she's fine now. Maybe I caught this from her."

"Maybe," she said. Her suspicions were still there, but she decided it wasn't of immediate importance and filed it away for later. "So, do you know what the time is?"

"Lessons have just finished. I heard the bell," he said.

She nodded and slipped off the bed. "See you around, Lupin. Get well soon."

"Thanks, Black," Lupin said as she walked away.

Lily made her way to the Gryffindor common room. She had a few hours to kill before the Prefects' meeting started, and she might as well do her homework. She climbed in through the portrait hole.

"Lily!"

Lily gasped and staggered to the side as Marlene flew at her and wrapped her arms around her neck.

"Calm down!" she said laughingly. "Do you want to strangle me?"

Marlene drew back, smiling. "I missed you," she sang. "I had to write my own notes in Arithmancy, can you believe it?"

"Oh, the horror," Lily said dryly. "One day I won't be there for you to copy off me, and then you'll be really stuck."

Marlene waved a hand dismissively as she booted a third-year out of the armchair nearest to the fire. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Since you're you, I'm guessing you want your homework?"

"Please," Lily said. "By the way, where's Frank?"

Marlene and Frank Longbottom had started dating late last year, and they were the most adorable couple she had ever seen. She had had her reservations about the relationship at first: Frank had spent years worshipping Marlene from afar, while she flitted from boy to boy, charming and restless. But things seemed to have been going alright since he'd finally plucked up the courage to ask her out. He'd been oddly absent over the last few days, now that she thought about it.

"Something to do with Quidditch," Marlene said over her shoulder as she ascended the staircase to the girls' dorms. "Apparently it's a really busy part of the training season."

Frank happened to be Quidditch Captain, and a damned fine one he was too, Lily thought with a sudden rush of vindictiveness. True, the Slytherin team – which happened to feature both Potter and her cousin – had beaten Gryffindor in their last match, but it had only been by ten points. That was nothing. It certainly had nothing to do with the so-called skill of Potter, who had been the Slytherin Quidditch Captain since sixth year.

When Marlene brought back the foot-high pile of parchment that was her homework, Lily dived right in, immersing herself in Goblin Wars and Cheering Charms and a variety of Runes. She only looked up when the grandfather clock in the common room announced that it was almost six o'clock. It being nearly winter, the sky outside was already dark.

"Prefects' meeting," Lily told Marlene and Arabella. They waved her off without setting aside their own work.

Lily pulled her black cloak tightly around her as she headed down the draughty corridors. The meeting was being held in an old Transfiguration classroom; she pushed open the door, instantly being accosted by a wave of warmth, and greeted the people inside.

"Hi, Lily!"

"Good to see you, Black!"

She smiled around at everyone. She was a popular enough Head Girl, as well known for her sense of justice as her temper, and even the Slytherins never put up too much of a fight against her – though she knew that had more to do with her family ties than her skills as a Head Girl. They respected Sirius, and nobody wanted her to call in Narcissa or – God forbid – Bellatrix.

She wouldn't have done anyway, but they didn't need to know that.

Lily started the meeting with the usual counting of House points (Gryffindor: 240, Slytherin: 310, Hufflepuff: 190 and Ravenclaw: 205). They cycled through all the other issues brought up by various Prefects and finally, at half past seven, Lily stood up.

"Anything else?"

"No," said Emma Vanity, the fifth-year Slytherin prefect. Lily nodded and gathered a sheaf of papers together. These were the prefects' written reports, and half would go to Lupin to be checked over while the other half was for her.

"In that case, off you go. Remember, same time same place next week!"

They chorused goodbyes and trooped out. Once they had gone Lily remembered her detention and groaned. There was still another half an hour to go.

She decided to return to the common room, where Marlene and Arabella would still be working. As she did, she made a detour to check the noticeboard for the next Hogsmeade visit. She stopped short when she saw who was standing there.

"Frank? What are you doing?"

Marlene's boyfriend turned around from where he was standing, pinning a poster to the board. "Oh, hello, Lily," he said. "Prefects' meeting?"

She read the poster over his shoulder. "Mm. So, you're looking for a new Seeker?"

Instantly Frank launched into a rant. "Yes, because that absolute bloody git Corner had to go and contract effing Scrofungulus which won't be healed for six months and now he's left us without a Seeker, which is quite possibly the most important person on the team!"

Lily backed away, laughing. "Wow, Frank. It isn't his fault, remember. I'm sure he doesn't want to have Scrofungulus either. When are the try-outs, anyway?"

"Half-past eight, tonight," Frank grumbled. "Only time I've managed to book the pitch." Suddenly he froze, looking her up and down, an awed expression on his face. Lily began to feel uncomfortable.

"Um, Frank? I don't think Marlene would appreciate you eyeing up other girls," she said, only half-jokingly. He shook himself.

"No, I mean yes, but – Lily, you'd be a great Seeker!"

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes!" he said emphatically, nodding. "I've seen you play two-a-side over the summer, you aren't half bad on a broomstick. Must be your genes – Sirius is by all accounts one of the best Beaters Slytherin have ever had. And with your build, you'd be perfect for a Seeker!"

She shrugged. "I'll take your word for it."

"No, Lily. Promise me you'll come to try-outs?"

"Sorry, Frank. I can't. I have detention at eight."

"Fuck detention!" he snapped. Lily blinked in shock. He clearly felt strongly about this, if mild-mannered Frank was swearing. "If you go and tell McGonagall it's for Quidditch, she'll let you off the hook. She didn't like us losing our last match any more than we did, and she knows us having a Seeker is absolutely vital."

Despite herself, Lily began to feel interested. She'd always liked the feeling of riding a broomstick, though it wasn't her life, and it was true what he'd said about genes. Narcissa did not play, but Andromeda had been a Chaser – she guiltily quashed that thought as soon as she had it – and Bellatrix had been the only female Beater in Slytherin history. Maybe it was time to see what she could do.

"Alright, I'll talk to McGonagall," she acquiesced.

Frank grinned widely. "Yes! Quick, go now! Remember, at half eight on the pitch. Do you have a broomstick?"

She shook her head. "I'll borrow Arabella's for now. If I get in I'll write to my parents for my own."

"Good girl," Frank said. He walked away, whistling cheerfully.

Lily heaved a breath, though she wasn't truly irritated, and started walking towards McGonagall's office. Her steps slowed as she came across a sight enough to make anyone spew up their dinner.

Really, why is it always me?

A flash of ivory skin and raven hair. Her heart jerked painfully, but it wasn't who she'd thought it was; it was her cousin Sirius who had the girl up against the wall several feet away. He was kissing her so hard she thought he might possibly be trying to suck her insides out through her mouth. Lily's nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought.

Well, as Head Girl, it was her duty to break them up. She briefly considered spraying them both with water, but dismissed it. That was an old tactic. Maybe the Tap-Dancing Curse?

"I never thought you'd be a voyeur, Lily-my-lily. Seems there are still depths to you I haven't… plumbed… yet."

Lily jumped. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. While she'd been contemplating various methods of unsticking Sirius and the girl, James Potter had snuck up on her out of the darkness, watching her with lazy amusement. His arms were folded across his lean chest.

"You can let Sirius know that he's costing you all thirty points from Slytherin," she said curtly. Potter's words were wind, were air, were nothing: she scrubbed them viciously from her hearing and memory. He had said nothing she needed to confront. "I've only just done the weekly points tally, and already one of you is losing your House points. Gryffindor's not too far behind, you know."

She prepared to sweep majestically away, but of course he had a retort ready. "Then we'll just have to win more points in Quidditch, won't we? Shouldn't be too hard. It wasn't last time, and you don't even have a Seeker now."

Lily cursed the streak of competitiveness that meant she never could let anyone have the last word, least of all him. The smugness in his voice was far too infuriating to let it pass unchallenged.

"The Seeker try-outs are tonight," she informed him coolly. "No doubt Frank will find someone more than capable."

"Longbottom wouldn't know capability if it danced naked in front of him," Potter said derisively. Lily opened her mouth to defend her friend, but he was not yet done. "He never has before, so why start now? Just look at the state of your team." Then, seemingly casually: "Well, Lily? Are you thinking of trying out?"

Her silence was answer enough, and he laughed. "Fucking hell, you are! This is going to be the funniest thing I've seen all year. I have to come watch this. Can you even ride a broom?"

"Piss off, Potter," Lily barked. She stalked off, but before she had gone very far, he yelled out, "How about a bet? Fifty galleons you don't get in!"

She laughed scathingly. "Fifty galleons? That wouldn't even pay for the new broom handle I'll need once I've finished wiping the floor with you, Potter."

She sped up so she wouldn't hear his reply, but she could hear his laughter reverberating down the passageway.

Lily fumed all the way to McGonagall's office. Now she really had to make the team, or at least do extremely well, if only to prove to Potter that she could ride a broom as well as he could. Never mind that she was trying out for a completely different position to the one he played in. She was determined now, and everyone in her way had better watch out.

Including McGonagall. Lily knocked once and entered, seeing her Head of House look up.

"Yes, Miss Black?"

Lily took a breath. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, but Frank Longbottom's holding Quidditch try-outs to find a new Seeker tonight, and he thinks I would be a good candidate. But I have detention. Could I possibly make up the detention some other time and attend the try-outs?"

She held her breath, praying that Frank was right and McGonagall's House spirit would prevail. McGonagall considered it for a few moments before nodding. "Very well, Miss Black. You may try out for Seeker. And what's more," she smiled faintly at Lily's look of relief, "if you do make it, you'll no longer need to serve the rest of your detentions."

"Thank you, Professor!" Lily said exuberantly. She forced herself to walk sedately out of the office, then ran all the way to the common room to ask Arabella for her broom.

Just what she'd needed: even more incentive to make the team.

AN: And that's a wrap for today, folks! Next chapter will be up tomorrow morning. All the chapter titles are coming from Shakespeare plays; let me know if you recognise which play any of them come from!

The things I've changed will be more obvious as the story progresses. Right now, I'm cringing at how much I diverged from canon when I was thirteen... I had CORNELIUS FUDGE as the Minister of Magic in 1977! I've also been reading some of the 2013 reviews, and B, you totally haven't changed haha. Sirius is still your golden boy :P

Anyway, I do hope you'll all consider leaving a review to help me out. Thank you to those of you who've said this is helping you get through a boring quarantine. That was one of my main aims in returning to this fic after so long, and I'm glad it's working.

Have a good night!