A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, again! This chapter is a bit long, but I enjoyed writing it just the same. The next one will be... well, you'll just have to see, won't you?

I know anyone reading this is probably shaking their heads thinking 'umm, missed a bit, have you?'

Yeah, I have. But if I wrote down what cereal I ate for breakfast each day, even if I was the most incredible writer ever to grace the planet, I'd be willing to bet five hundred galleons that you'd get pretty bored pretty damn fast. So, what the hey, I skipped a bit. I suppose I should scrape what interesting bits together, maybe for just a paragraph or so.

Sam and I were fairly famous around Hogwarts, in our year. Possibly because the Marauders were and, seeing as I always managed to snap back at Potter's declarations of love, people began to look favourably upon me and the girls associated with me, annoying an humiliating as that was. Or, actually, the boys did, because the girls fawned all over the Marauders. Except, maybe Peter. With those watery, shift eyes and that ratty like nose... I don't know, he wasn't my idea of a drop dead gorgeous guy. Sam was into pranks for revenge, the boys into pranks for entertainment. None of it was entirely harmful, although maybe Filibuster Fireworks in an enclosed space, like the girls bathroom, touched on possibly dangerous.

My third and fourth year was spent growing up and, as Sam put it, out. I became more outgoing as we went along, with Sammy as assumed tutor. My constant studying and nerdiness (as Hannah called it) faded away into the background. Sure, I still studied my buns off, but I had fun too.

Hogsmeade trips were a thing of extreme excitement. No matter how grey and rainy the day was, us four girls always managed to have so much fun and crack so many jokes that we would end up gasping for breath in-between fits of laughter.

Fifth year was a turning point. Lord Voldemort made himself known.

It would pop up in the news every so often, magical news, of course. So and so found murdered. A house destroyed here, a family terrorised there. Then it became worse. Some people were fighting back, others were terrified and attacked anything that moved, while fighting erupted between old friends and families. However, for us students, hoarded away in our haven at Hogwarts, it didn't really register just how bad things were. We just went blithely on with our lives, having a great time with friends and the like. The only repercussion we felt was, mid way through fifth year, Hogsmeade weekends came to a crashing halt.

I knew what was going on better than some in my year, Muggle born as I was, because, while some were gallivanting around and... ahem... pranking people, I, sitting quietly, looking like I was doing my work in class, managed to get quite a bit of detail off teachers, discussing the recent events in dulcet tones amongst themselves. The parts I understood I passed on to my friends, in a more censored manner. I didn't add that the youngest to die was only about eighteen months old. Those details I kept to myself and the thought alone would keep me awake at night, shivering in horror or sometimes crying silently, mourning the death of a little baby I'd never known.

I managed to remain myself, however, around others. I hitched up my smile and, most of the time when I was with my friends, forgot that the world was at war with some psycho with his dreams of pure blood and world domination. So I showed no undue emotion when, after our exams, I found Potter and Black bullying Severus Snape.

'Leave him alone!'

Behind me, on the grass beside the lake, Sammy, Hannah and Aoife had given up trying to talk me out of running up there and stopping the Marauders, and sat watching me for a moment, before Sam leapt to her feet and followed. I could feel my face burning with fury, my hands trembling angrily. Potter looked up at me, his hair messy from him running his hand ridiculously through his hair a million times. Just the sight of it made my blood boil.

'All right, Evans?'

Ooh, I could have ripped that tongue out with my bare hands!

'Leave him alone,' I said again, my voice low and threatening. I glared at him furiously. 'What's he ever done to you?'

'Well,' Potter started, frowning slightly, as if thinking hard about what he was about to say. 'It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean...'

The crowd around us laughed, including Pettigrew and Black, who were standing just behind Potter. Although Potter was a good head taller than me, I glared up into his eyes, daring him to argue with me.

'You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone!'

'I will if you go out with me, Evans,' he said, straight away. I almost laughed in his face, and would have, if I hadn't been shaking with so much anger. 'Go on, go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.'

'I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,' I answered, slowly and coldly.

Black, watching over Potter's shoulder, grinned. 'Bad luck, Prongs- OI!'

My eyes snapped to Snape just as a flash of light made me blink. Next thing I knew, Potter, his face cut deep and bleeding, had his wand trained on Snape, who was hanging upside down, his robes falling down to reveal his legs and, sickeningly, underwear.

A few people around us cheered and clapped. I couldn't help it, my anger faltered for a moment and I felt my face twitch before I saved my livid expression. 'Let him down!' I yelled.

'Certainly.' Potter yanked his wand upwards and Snape crashed to the ground, immediately trying to push himself to his feet. He raised his wand and opened his mouth...

'Petrificus Totalus!' Black's wand was trained on Snape as he fell, rigid. I felt something rush through me, a burst of adrenaline. My God, I have never been so furious in my life!

'LEAVE HIM ALONE!' I bellowed, whipping my wand out as I roared. Potter and Black stopped immediately, eyeing my wand. They knew I was no amateur.

'Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you...'

'Take the curse off him, then!'

Potter sighed, waved his wand and murmured the counter-curse.

'There you go... you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-.'

'I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!'

It was like he'd slapped me. A few girls in the crowd, Potter's followers, gasped, horrified, and I just stared at him, then blinked.

'Fine,' I said calmly. 'I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus...'

'Apologise to Evans!'

'I don't want you to make him apologise,' I shouted, whirling around and glaring at him. 'You're as bad as he is!'

'What?' Potter barked. 'I'd NEVER call you a... you-know-what!'

But he was too late. I'd had enough, biting my lip when all I wanted to do was give him my honest opinion of what I thought of him, curbing my temper every time I caught him teasing and bullying someone... the words sprang from my mouth without me even registering exactly what I was saying.

'Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can- I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground, with that fat head on it! You make me SICK!'

I wheeled around and marched away, ignoring Potter's shouts to regain my attention. Who did he think he was, anyway? What a slimy, self absorbed, arrogant jerk! I wanted nothing more to do with him, and it stayed that way. Until the middle of my sixth year. The day I found out my parents had died.