DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters appearing in JK Rowling's books, along with the setting, and everything else she dreamed up.
A/N: This chapter will be the beginning of the real new plot which has decided to appear magically into this story, with a little help from me, of course.
Severus Snape lay in his bed, surrounded by serpent green hangings. He was trying to fall asleep, but his mind was spinning from his brief conversation with Lily that day. He now knew why Potter was so taken by her. Anyone with eyes like that, hair like that, and a sweet trusting nature, for everyone except James Potter it seemed, is both the most lovable and easy to hate person ever. Lovable because she is so open and beautiful, but easy to hate because she is so innocent and good. Perhaps, if Snape's plan succeeded, her trusting nature would be torn into bits so small they could never be recovered. Then, he could finally hate her completely. Finally, with that last pleasing thought, Snape fell asleep and dreamed of telling his soon-to-be master of the way he alone had ruined any hope of James and Lily becoming allies.
Meanwhile a chubby boy, referred to as Wormtail by those who pretend to know him, lay in his own bed thinking opposite thoughts. Almost. His thoughts were those of questioning himself. James and Sirius had one of their "moods" earlier where they discuss merit, good over evil, and even the prospect of 'what if I were to be killed if I didn't betray my friends?' Wormtail hadn't spoken up, but listened in his usual state of awed silence at his friends' untested accounts of bravery and loyalty. He knew that he had faced the Dark Lord and lived because he went over to him.
He wished almost that he had not told anyone, but decided to tell Snape that he was going against his current master. If he-knew-who mentioned it, Wormtail had an alibi already: he did not trust Snape, so he wanted Snape to forget he had ever been a Death Eater. He would convince Snape that he was never actually seriously a Death Eater, just testing that side, or better yet, just modify his memory. Wormtail was surprisingly adept at those. That was the plan, Wormtail had come up with. He thought it was beautiful, so simple and effective.
In the bed adjacent to Wormtail's, James was also thinking over his conversation with Sirius. It was a conversation of a rather different topic than the one Peter was thinking about...
"James, your hair," Sirius had said.
"What about my hair?" was James' reply.
"Something needs to be done about it. Either a nice short hair cut, or you could try for a look like those Muggles like... a what-do-you-call-it? A bug?" Sirius asked.
"A what? Oh, you mean a Beatle! My hair wouldn't be that tame, Snuffles, never ever in a million years, it'd stick up, out, and fall in my eyes. I'd walk down a Muggle street and scary old ladies were croak curses at the damn youth," James replied.
"I thought you'd forgotten about that."
"What?"
"Snuffles."
"You'd never be that lucky, Snuffles," James said.
"Even if I had taken my luck potion?"
"Your what?"
"Did you hear? Those things... the creatures that make you really unlucky if you get bitten by one? Or is it stung? Someone made a potion with the venom that acts oppositely. However, it does have to be taken within forty-seven seconds of brewing and if you say a single word incorrectly during the whole brewing process, it will give you severe bad luck. You might as well stay in bed because your shoes are bound to be soaking wet and misplaced; your feet will catch on every little thing, even if there isn't anything to be tripped on. It also only lasts for two hours, if it works that is, if it doesn't it lasts for two months," Sirius explained seriously.
"Not worth it, Snuffles, I..." James paused, then had his voice taken by laughter.
"What? Prongs! Speak!"
"I... I'll teach my... children to... call you... Snuffles. Uncle Snuffles," James dissolved into laughter at the look on Sirius's face.
"James. Please? Not Uncle Snuffles, if you must, you can have him call me Snuffles," Sirius sighed.
"Seriously? I've already named you my first child's Godfather, sort of funny, but I have a feeling that you'd be good for him. What am I saying? I don't even have a girlfriend! For all we know I'll grow up and never marry or anything," James said.
"I have a rather vague feeling that your son will be a great person. Makes me wonder, if it more crap spewing from my mouth spawned from Divination? Maybe we should have stayed with that class?" Sirius said.
"Never!" James said and the pair reverted to making fun of various classes.
In the next bed over in the dormitory Sirius lay dreaming of eating donuts and raspberry cheesecake. His dreams soon turned to nightmares as the donuts just sat there, refusing to be eaten and the raspberry cheesecake turned out to be strawberry, moldy, and with soggy crust. All it was eased by dreams of James telling them that the History of Magic classroom is edible, and they ate their way out of a boring lecture.
A thin, pallid boy occupied the final bed. Moony's soft canine snores accompanied his easy sleep. Ironically, the one with the most problems when he first entered into this dormitory now slept with the least problems clouding his dreamless sleep. He was oblivious to the plot that he would enter into as a victim, the plot that was being hatched in the mind of a boy who he had shared a dormitory with and thought he knew since he began Hogwarts.