(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)

(Apology from the author: Hey, guys. I changed my bio. Sorry for sounding like . . . in Lily's words, "an egotrip on a broomstick." I was just trying to make it sound formal. Apologies to everyone. I've changed it. ): )

(A Disclaimer: Ballycastle Bats, the Bat mascot, and "I'm batty for Butterbeer" is not mine. It belongs to J. K. Rowling. See Quidditch Through the Ages for more information.)

(And finally, a thanks from the author: Okay, I've said it a lot, and I've probably said it too much, but thank you so much for replying! I read every single one of your guys's messages, and I enjoy every one of them!)

James left that next morning. He didn't say goodbye to any of his friends. He walked right past Lily as they crossed paths in the common room. He was dressed in a black suit, and carrying his trunk.
Sirius woke next to James's empty bed. He had had a nightmare about Dark Marks chasing him through a dark tunnel. The skulls of the Marks had been replaced with his mother's head, and she was screeching at him.
The tunnel ended with a trap door, and he climbed through the hole, and there was the werewolf . . .
He yawned, and scratched his head. His untidy hair fell into its messy place, and he sat up. Remus was getting dressed on the other side of the room. He was pulling his cloak on, and then started on his shoes.
"Did he say goodbye to you?" Sirius said.
Remus glanced up at him, and then went back to pulling on his socks. He was tired himself, Sirius could tell. None of them had truly slept that soundly last night.
"Not a word," he replied, "And who can blame him. I know that if something like that happened to me, I would be worse than him."
Sirius stood, and then crossed over to his trunk, rubbing his eyes. Peter was still asleep. He was twisting and turning in his bed, whimpering. It seemed that all of them were having a rough time.
Sirius had never thought it would have really come. The day that one of them were effected directly. He had always decided that it was like a bad horror story. He had never seen Voldemort. What if it was just another fairy tale?
A fairy tale that killed real people.
"You don't look too good," Remus said, putting his left shoe on, "Are you holding up?"
"Yeah," Sirius said, and opened his trunk, "It wasn't my sister, was it?"

Lily sat with them for breakfast that morning. Sirius hadn't objected, to Remus's surprise. She was as sullen as the rest of them, and only ate a little of her toast.
"I don't know what I'd do if my sister died," she said out loud to no one in particular.
Remus nodded, and Sirius went to looking at his pumpkin juice goblet. He seemed to be very interested in it.
There was a pause of silence, before Lily said, "He is lucky to have friends like you three. He never stops talking about you."
Sirius looked at her, his brow furrowed. Was she serious?
"Well, all we ever hear out of his mouth anymore has something to do with you," he said darkly, and then looked back at his pumpkin juice.
Remus thought that he saw Lily blush.
"Hey! Your friend's next, Moony!"
Remus looked up, thinking that he would see James talking to him. But instead, behind Lily, and flanked by six greasy looking Slytherins, was Snivellus. On his left shoulder stood Narcissa and Regulus.
Snape was smiling at Moony evilly. Had he told his friends? Had he told all of them what he was? No, he wouldn't be that stupid. As long as Sirius was there, he wouldn't dare.
"Blood traitor, Moony. James is next, you freak," he said again snidely.
In a minute, both he and Sirius were on their feet, wands pointed at Snape's nostrils. His group of friends all took their wands out and pointed them back at the two boys.
"Go ahead, try it," Snape sneered.
Sirius seemed ready to try it, but Remus nudged him, and shook his head, "He isn't worth it," he said, and then took his seat again. Snape's expression of pure jest faded in an instant, and he glared.
"That's right, Padfoot. You can't protect your little possy from the Dark Lord," he said.
Sirius tapped his fingers on the table, trying not to lose his temper. He couldn't look at Snape. If he did, he would lose it. He would flat out kill him.
"How about you go back to your own table, Snivellus?" Lily stood, and the group backed up in surprise.
"Ah, it's the Mudblood," Nott said, from behind Snape, "Hex her, Malfoy."
But before the blonde haired seventh year could reach his wand, Lily had her wand in hand, and pointed it at Snivellus.
"Confundo!"
A jet of light shot out of her wand, and hit Snape square between the eyes. He doubled back, into the arms of two Slytherins namd Crabbe and Goyle, and his eyes grew big. His mouth drooped open, and he gazed around at the room, muttering something.
At once, Nott raised his wand and shouted, "Conjuntiva!"
There was another burst of light, and Lily fell on the table, holding her eyes. Nott was sneering.
But Lily, her eyes irritated, blindly pointed her wand in the direction of Narcissa and Regulus, "Avis!"
Out of the end of her wand came a flock of tiny canarylike birds. They flew to the two, and started pecking them viciously.
"You little priss!" Narcissa screeched. Sirius could have sworn it was his own mother's voice.
Lily blinked. The blinding spell was wearing off. It hadn't been that strong of a delivery. She saw the birds, and started to laugh.
Remus, Sirius, and Peter all stared at the scene with pure astonishment.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

The entire crowd turned to look at a very furious Professor McGonagall, marching from her spot at the High Table and down to them. Right behind her was an equally as mad Professor Hall.
"Does she just tail us or something?" Sirius hissed to Remus, "Does she just watch us until we place a toe out of line?"
Lily, trying to hide her wand behind her back, sat back down, her face as red as her hair. Professor McGonagall, who seemed to have smoke billowing out of her head, grabbed Sirius and Remus by their ears. They winced, and stood.
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT FIGHTING!" she shouted, "THE HEADMASTER WARNED YOU, MR. BLACK!"
Crabbe, Goyle, and Snape had disappeared from sight. The rest of the Slytherin gang was being rung out equally as bad by Professor Hall. Narcissa and Regulus were still trying to fight off the birds.
"He didn't do anything, Professor!"
"For once in your life, be quiet, Mr. Pettigrew!" she snapped, and then started on the other two boys again.
"It was Lily!" Peter squealed, and Lily nodded weakly. Sirius, who felt like his ear was going to be ripped off of his head, broke free, and looked disdainfully at Professor McGonagall. She then let go of Remus, and turned her glare to Lily.
"Lily Evans!" she scolded, "Head Girl! Top in your class! You think that you would know a little better! Fifty points from Gryffindor! I have never been more ashamed of a student! I would have thought more from you!"
And then she practically threw Sirius and Remus back into their seats, and went to help Professor Hall reprimand the Slytherins.
Sirius had never seen Professor McGonagall so angry before. He was in awe as he stared from her, to the canary birds, and then back to Lily.
Lily looked like she was on the verge of tears. She had her head in her arms, and was trying not to let her face be seen.
"Fifty points!" she said through her arms. It was muffled, "Fifty points! Oh, I should have known better!"
"What just happened here?" Remus said, aside to Sirius. Sirius shrugged, and then continued to stare at Lily.

"Hey! Wait up!"
Lily, who was trying to dry her face of tears, continued walking down the hall.
"Evans! Slow down!"
Lily looked back, and saw Sirius Black gaining on her. She continued walking.
Sirius frowned, and ran through the crowded corridor to catch up with her.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think that you were trying to avoid me," he said sourly as he started walking in step with her. She turned away, trying to hide her face.
"What?" she said through her red hair, "What do you want?"
"Just wanted to ask what you did to Snivelly," he said, "Thought the hex would come in handy some time."
"It's not a hex, it's a charm," she corrected him, "A Confundus charm. It confuses the victim."
"Ah," Sirius said, and then continued to walk with her, "Where'd you learn to duel like that?"
"There's a lot of things that you don't know about me," she replied simply.
"Well, after that little scene in there, I've realized that," he said. They walked into the Transfiguration room, where Professor McGonagall gave them both a very evil glare.
Lily didn't say anything as she sat down in her seat, still trying to wipe her face free of tears. Sirius sat in his regular seat, the chair next to him empty. He wondered when James would be getting back.

James wanted to leave. He felt sick. He wanted to just drop through the floor, and disappear.
He had seen Wendy during the open casket. She was untouched by anything, except for her eyes. They were open wide, in a look of horror. Her husband had been killed as well, and his expression was the same. It had been the Avada Kedavera curse. He knew it had been.
They had attended the funeral, and he had sat there, listening to the wonderful things that his sister had accomplished in her life. Loving wife, loving daughter, loving sister.
Half of it passed through one ear and exited through the other. He was thinking about something else. A memory that he hadn't recalled for a long time.
He was four, and Wendy was twelve. They were home alone with Sprite one summer night, while their parents went out on a romantic dinner date. Sprite had put them to bed early, on his mother's orders. It was dark in his room, and he couldn't remember him being more scared in his entire childhood. His friend from down the street, Kenny McClellan, had told him that there were dementors that fed off of little children. They hid in the dark of their rooms, and then, after they were put to bed, they came and gave them a kiss.
It seemed so stupid now . . . to be scared of fictional dementors hiding in the corners of his room. But then, he felt like he was going to choke in the blackness that surounded him. Sprite had drifted off to sleep downstairs, while folding some clothes. Wendy had heard his crying, and soon enough, there she was in his doorway, the light seeping from behind her from the corridor. James had stopped crying, and his big sister had walked farther into the room, unafraid of the dark.
"What's the matter, James?" she had asked.
James had told her about Kenny's ghost story, and she laughed, "Don't tell me that you believe dementors are in here?"
James had nodded.
Wendy sat on the edge of his bed, and then said, "Well, how about we make up our own story? About the dark? It can just be our story. We won't tell anyone about it. I'll start, and then you can make some of it up, and then I'll continue, and on and on. Okay?"
James had nodded again, and had set his head on Wendy's lap. Wendy stroked his hair as she began to speak, "Once upon a time, there was a little boy that was scared of his dark room. He couldn't go to sleep, because he was thinking that he heard something in the corner. There had been a thump over there," she pointed to the corner next to the window, "And it was a scary noise. Now it's your turn."
"Then the noise was louder," James said quietly.
"Good job, James," Wendy said, and then continued, "And the little boy jumped up from his bed, and demanded to know who was there."
"Who was it?" he asked in awe.
"Who do you think it was?" she looked to him. James had never been asked such an important question before.
"A dementor?"
"No," she smiled, and tickled his stomach. He giggled, "It was a Klipoorak."
"A what?" he asked.
"A Klipoorak," she repeated, "He had big eyes, that glowed blue. And . . . and what did his nose look like?"
"It was green," James said.
"All right, it was green," she said, "And he had fur. It changed all the colors of the rainbow."
James laughed, and Wendy smiled, "That's what a Klipoorak looks like."
"I think I see him now!" James said, peering into the corner.
"And Klipooraks bring good luck," Wendy added, "He's watching to make sure nothing comes to hurt you."
"Like dementors?"
"Yeah, like dementors."
James smiled now. It was one of the few memories that he had left of Wendy. Most of the rest of the time, she was detached from the family. She had her schooling, and then her friends over holiday.
It was a memory that he would always hold onto.

The reception afterwards was bittersweet. He found a chair next to the refreshments table, and sat there, scoping out the scene. He didn't feel comfortable in his clothes. They were too scratchy. He knew they would be thrown in the back of his closet after today, never to be worn again.
Mrs. Potter was hysterical. She was being comforted by some other women that had attended the funeral. He had never seen them before.
Sprite was bawling in the corner, wiping her nose on her red mitten. She was telling a story to another house elf that someone had brought about how Wendy always loved her eggs over easy, and not scrambled.
The house elf looked very confused.
He toyed with his cuff. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to hear anything more about Wendy. She wasn't dead. She was going to come walking into the room at any moment, and she would be all right.
He wiped his eye with his sleeve, and then looked straight ahead. He wasn't going to cry. He wouldn't let himself cry in front of all these people.
"It's getting worse, Potter."
James looked to a corner on the other side of the room. His father was speaking with a man that he had never seen before. Mr. Potter's companion had dark hair that covered his face. But James could make out a large eye, swiveling in every direction. It was unnerving. It was darting around at the rest of the guests, making sure no one was listening.
"I will be your Secret Keeper if you would like to go ."
"No," Mr. Potter said, "We're staying as a family. Until the end, we're staying. I'm not going to be pushed into hiding because of a bunch of . . . "
"Your daughter is dead," the unknown man with the eye said, "Save your son and your wife."
Mr. Potter's stature sank, but he still shook his head, "If we die, we die as a family."
"Pride, Potter," the man said, "Pride is dangerous."
"Pride is all I have left," he said.
The eye swiveled around, and landed on James. James quickly looked away, but he knew that the man had seen him.