.chapter six.


James Potter didn't need to read the Prophet to know what was going on; he had already gotten an owl about it late last night. Of course, it was from him, the one who called himself Lord Voldemort. James had first heard of the guy when he was a first year; recieving letters from him. And then he heard his parents talking about him late at night in the kitchen when they thought that he was asleep. It seemed that he was a dark wizard that was on the rise, trying to sort out the pure bloods from the muggle - borns, and he wanted to make the magical world "pure," as though having witches and wizards that were born to Muggle families was an unclean thing. James didn't know why Lord Voldemort wanted him; in his letters, he said that James was a worthy oponenet that was worthy of being on the Dark Side. James tried to get the letters to stop, by ignroing them or sending howlers back or just telling him to stop. But Voldemort only grew more and more persistant, not leaving him alone and disturbing him late at night with his post. And now he had begun to kill people to get James on his side. At least, that was what last night's letter had told him.

He chose three old wizards, people that James had only met once during a visit to Diagon to buy school things, but it still hurt him to know that the reason they died was because of him. It made his stomach twist into knots and it made him want to hurl. The only people who knew about it were the Marauders, of course; they wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone.

That morning in the Great Hall, everyone was buzzing about the killings. Daily Prophets were on high demand. A short, stout boy called Robert McKrinney from Hufflepuff said that one of the old men had been his great uncle twice removed, or something like that. He had to be escorted to the hospital wing, as he fainted.

"What'd you expect from someone like that?" asked Sirius as the group huddled at the Gryffindor table. They weren't eating with their usual vigor - their plates were empty - and it would have been a highly suspicious thing if someone noticed, but no one did as they were wrapped up in the mysterious killings. "Someone trying to rid the community of muggle - borns... sounds like a Slytherin if I ever heard one."

"We should tell someone James. You should tell Dumbledore," said Remus, his voice concerned and tired. "This is really serious, especially now - we shouldn't have waited so long to tell someone." He too was feeling very guilty, but not nearly as much as James.

"We can't tell someone! They'll blame Prongs!" exclaimed Wormtail, his boyish face pale and frightful. That wast he last thing he wanted - Peter could picture James being escorted into Askaban, never to be heard from again.

"They can't blame Prongs. It wasn't his fault," said Sirius pointedly. "Just because he's on the good side -"

"But it was my fault," said James quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Padfoot, shaking his head. "This guy is nutters, he's completely nutters - and it's not your fault if he has an insane obsession with you and killing all muggle borns." That was easy for Sirius to say; he was a pure blood, his family was safe. And it wasn't like the dark wizard had the obsession with him.

"You've got to tell Dumbledore," concluded Remus. "If you don't, I will. It's my duty -"

"Bugger your duties!" exclaimed Sirius loudly, and Peter kept glancing back and forth between the two like it was a tennis match. "You're James friend and that comes before duties. We're all Marauders, we don't rat on eachother -"

"But this is endangering the lives of others, and I can't -"

They all hushed when they saw that Lily Evans was standing behind James, arms crossed over her chest, Daily Prophet hanging limply from one of her hands.

"What are you all looking so suspicious about?" she asked, and the boys glanced between eachother. James turned around to face her, a slow smile forming on his face.

"Nothing, Evans, honest," he said. "We were just discussing -"

"The Prophet?" she asked, her emerald eyes widening in a mix of emotions. "It's completely horrible isn't it? I'd love to find the guy..." She cleared her thoat, then glanced at Remus. "We've got to report to McGonnagall - impromptu meeting I guess..." She trailed off, then tucked the wisps of fiery red hair that had struggled free from her ponytail behind her ears. "It's horrible though."

"Yeah," agreed James glumly. "It's rotten."

:::......:::

Later that day, after being told to do "Damage Control," as Professor McGonnagall called it, ("it" being: Helping students recover from their shock, send them to the Hospital Wing if they're too devastated, and tell them that nothing like that would ever happen in Hogwarts, and if they don't believe you, refer them to "Hogwarts, A History.") Lily Evans sat in the library, finishing a research report for her Muggle Studies class. She heard someone slide their books at her table, and watched as James Potter sunk down into the chair across from her.

"What do you want, Potter?" she asked, taking the defense in annoyance.

"Nothing from you, Evans. This was the only available table," he replied, and she glanced around. He was telling the truth; many students were sitting around, reading through thich books that were yellowing with age. She sheepishly mumbled, "oh" and went back to her studying.

"Can I ask your advice, Evans?" he asked slowly, and Lily glanced up. She nodded slowly, having the feeling that James was going to be very serious for once, and that was something that did not happen often. "If you knew about something - say some mysterious deaths - and who did it... and why they did it... would you tell people?"

"Of course," she replied. "It sounds like you have some personal relation to the Prophet article?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"No, no... nothing like that." He cleared his throat and scooted his chair closer to Lily's so he could whisper. "It's just that... I have a friend that does. And he thinks that he should go tell, but he doesn't know if um, he'll get in trouble or anything."

"Well, I would always tell. Dumbledore is very wise James, and he would know how to help your... friend." She gazed seriously into his hazel eyes, which were an array of confusion, gratefulness, and something that Lily couldn't identify. It was rather unsettling.

"Thanks," he said softly. "I'm going to go... tell my friend that. What you said." He stood up, and nodded. "Thanks." Then he ruffled up his hair in thought, gathered his books, and stalked off quickly from the library.

'I wonder what that was about,' though Lily as she went back to her work. She couldn't concentrate quite as well for the rest of the day.

:::......:::

Jena was sitting alone in the common room, late at night, sketch pad in her lap and drawing pencil in hand. She sighed quietly to herself, connect one curved line to another, forming the likeness of a man's face. She shaded everything perfectly, and after a few moments, she had created what appeared to be Remus Lupin. He was leaning over his desk, glancing up towards the board in one of his classes, sandy blonde hair falling just so.... This was the way that Jena always saw him, handsome and smiling slightly.

Almost as though he had read her thoughts, the tall, thin boy trudged down the boys' dormitory staircase, groggily. He glanced at Jena, seeming unsurprised to find her there. He meandered over to the over - stuffed chair opposite of her's and grinned. "Hello."

"Hi," she said softly. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask the same of you... but you asked first. I was making sure that the younger students had gone to bed - one of them was planning on staying up all night because he thought he was going to be killed in his sleep by something... some Slytherin told him a grand story about monsters I believe." Jena grinned, and he added, "It was a very baffling one about hippogriff ghosts that suck the life out of you from your toes."

"That sounds very interesting. I'll have to find the Slytherin who told him." She tucked her mocha brown hair behind her ears and smiled warmly at him, and he returned the smile. They sat in silence for a while, until Remus asked her again what she was doing up. "I'm drawing," she replied shyly.

"Drawing? Can I see?" She shook her head no, heat rushing to her cheeks. She didn't want him to find out that she had been drawing him. "Please?" he asked, standing up. He closed the distance between the two and flopped onto the couch beside her, and Jena pulled the sketch book up to her chest and shook her head again.

"They're not any good... you're going to laugh...." He pryed the book from her hands as the gave up, and he took a gander at what she had been drawing. His eyes widened and he glanced over at her. She had almost a frightened look on her face; but the majority of it was embarrassment.

"This is really good... you've made me quite handsome, don't you think?"

"I didn't make you handsome... that's just how you look." She couldn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth, and wished that she could just sink into the couch and it would swallow her alive.

"D'you think so?" She nodded.

They sat in an awkward silence for a moment, Jena staring at her feet and Remus staring at the picture she had drawn, until he said, quite out of the blue, "I rather fancy you, Jena." Then he stood up slowly, raked a hand through his hair, and headed up to the boys' dorms again.

"I fancy you too," she whispered to him, but he wasn't there to hear.

:::......:::

A/N: That was rather sappy, wasn't it? I'm sticking to the chair it was so sappy... Thank you all for reviewing, if you have. If you haven't, you should get on it! I need suggestions!

Disclaimer: No, I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER! HOW MANY TIMES MUST I SAY THIS?????

Please review!