Take me, I'm alive. Never was a girl with a wicked mind, but everything looks better when the sun goes down. — Make Me Wanna Die, the Pretty Reckless

September 1, 1977

When Layla woke the next morning, she groaned and covered her head with the blankets, unwilling to face another day of being watched far too closely by Lucius Malfoy. Her respite was short-lived, however, when Dobby appeared at the foot of her bed with a loud crack and began collecting her things. Once her trunk was packed, the house elf forced her out of bed and dressed, disapparating once more with her trunk. Malfoy himself appeared almost immediately after she was dressed, leading her off the grounds again to apparate to King's Cross. They apparated directly onto Platform 9 ¾, Malfoy's arm wrapped tightly around Layla's waist. His firm grip made her feel dirty and nauseous, but he refused to let go when she tried to pull away. He used his hold to pull her around in front of him, pressing their bodies together, and he grinned down at her as she felt bile in her throat. He ghosted his fingers from her forehead to her chin in a romantic gesture that left her shaking. "Are you nervous to return to Hogwarts this year?" he said quietly, grinning smugly at her reaction to his advances.

"No," Layla snapped, proverbially baring her teeth. "It's what I've wanted from the minute I got here."

Malfoy's face didn't change. "Yes, well, I'm certain that once you've seen what's waiting for you there, you'll be more than willing to come home to me when the holidays arrive."

Layla growled lowly, "If we were alone, I'd spit in your face right now."

Malfoy chuckled. "I highly doubt that. You're no Gryffindor," he whispered back. He released his hold on her, and Layla stumbled as she fell back away from him, unable to hold her balance without his grip on her waist acting as a counterweight. "You'd best board; the train is about to leave the station, my dear," Malfoy said loudly, grinning wildly at the frustration in Layla's eyes.

Unable to think of a response, Layla practically fled to the train. After some searching, she found a compartment that only had one other person in it, who appeared to be asleep, which was better than the other compartments, all of which were crammed with loud, rambunctious students. She could tell from the boy's tie he was a Gryffindor, but other than that, she knew nothing of him. She collapsed onto the bench across from him, utterly drained of energy, and tried her best not to let herself cry. She felt the train jerk and start chugging forward, then the door to the room slammed open, making her flinch away. "Wake up, Moony," a male voice crowed. "You can't sleep the whole train ride."

Layla stared out the window of the train, watching Malfoy disappear in the distance as the train left the station. He'd been waving at her, smiling that same smile that had constantly made her skin crawl over the last three days. A second male voice said, cutting into her like a knife, "Who are you? I don't remember seeing you at Hogwarts before."

Layla finally looked away from the window and found herself locking eyes with none other than Harry Potter. She gasped lightly, only to realize a moment later that his eyes were hazel, not green, and the shape of his nose was just slightly off, and that the boy in front of her must be his father, James Potter. "Umm, I transferred," Layla said lamely.

"From where?" he asked, his dark hair sticking wildly in all directions and his eyes curious under his wire-framed glasses. Layla noticed the shiny Head Boy badge on James Potter's chest, leaving her to absorb far too quickly for her taste that she was about to be in the same class as Harry Potter's father James Potter, werewolf Remus Lupin, escaped but posthumously declared innocent Azkaban occupant Sirius Black, real mass murderer Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, Lily Potter, and who all else she couldn't possibly begin to imagine.

"Ilvermorny," Layla mumbled, coming back to herself enough to give her rehearsed answer.

"You were with Malfoy on the platform," a deep voice accused from the doorway, and Layla looked past James Potter to see a boy who must have been a young Sirius Black, who surprised her by being incredibly handsome before his stint in Azkaban.

James's curious eyes turned critical at the mention of Malfoy, and Layla glanced past him again to find Remus Lupin, the sleeping boy, apparently, and a chubby boy who must be Peter Pettigrew, staring at her with equal suspicion. Layla rubbed the corners of her eyes, trying and failing to push the tears that had been building there away, as she admitted, "Yes, I was. He's recently become my legal guardian."

"What's your name?" Sirius demanded.

"Layla," she answered quietly. When she remembered herself, she added, "Layla Danes." After a moment of tense silence, Layla huffed and snapped, "I'm a Ravenclaw and a m—halfblood. I don't like Slytherins or Death Eaters. Malfoy makes me sick, and I hate that I'm tethered to that monster of the man for the foreseeable future. As soon as I can, I'm leaving that house and joining the Order of the Phoenix. So stop looking at me with that holier-than-thou glare, Black."

Sirius tilted his head, focusing on her like a hound does when he spots a fox. "How do you know my name?"

Layla shook her head, too overwhelmed by the constant influx of information to come up with a sufficient answer. She dropped her head to her hands with a soft groan. She had nothing. No excuses, no reasons, nothing. After a moment's silence, Layla spat, "Oh bloody hell, just leave me alone, all right?"

"Oh, come on, there must be a reason you know my name," Sirius taunted, taking first one step closer, then another, easily towering over her. He smirked down at her as though he knew he'd gotten under her skin and relished in knowing he'd caught her in a trap of her own making. "What, did my precious cousin that's engaged to Malfoy tell you about me in that much detail? Did your boyfriend Malfoy warn you to stay away from me? What?"

"Malfoy is not my boyfriend!" Layla practically screeched hoarsely, her bloodshot blue eyes snapping to Sirius's gray ones. All four boys started at her unexpectedly shrieked denial.

"Oh, come on," Sirius goaded, recovering quickly from the surprise. "You can do better than that. Anyone who saw you two together on the platform could see there was something up between you too, and it looked like it was his —"

"Enough, Sirius," Remus interrupted, putting his foot down. "You're pushing her too far."

Layla looked away, staring out the window again at the passing countryside, her eyes red and stinging. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her knee, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling for her wand in her pocket until it was pointed in James Potter's concerned face. She quickly lowered her wand, her face burning with shame, as James asked, "What's your story?"

"Ah, come on, James," Sirius implored, but James would have none of it.

"Stop it, Padfoot," James said back, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "You of all people should be able to see what's going on here. Doesn't she remind you of you when you left your family?" he said, glaring back at his friend for a moment. Sirius's face fell, his jaw slackening as he now stared at Layla from a new perspective. James turned back to Layla, who refused to look at him, practically cowering under his worried gaze. "Who hurt you?" he asked quietly as Sirius shut the door to the compartment and locked it with a wave of his wand. Layla stayed silent, shaking her head. She wasn't entirely sure why she was holding her tongue; of all the people currently in her world, these were the people she could trust with her life, not the likes of Lucius Malfoy. But still, she couldn't bring herself to tell the boys in front of her the truth. "Was it Malfoy?"

Layla snorted at that. "It's far more complicated than that," she said. "My life is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a riddle," she said sardonically, then let out a giggle that sounded slightly mad, even to her own ears.

The four boys glanced at each other, not sure what to do next. Remus leaned forward in his seat, looking intently at Layla, then said, "Layla, isn't it?" She nodded, still not making eye contact with anyone as she stared, grinning, out the window. Bellatrix's mad cackle floated through her ears; Malfoy's smug grin and the Dark Mark on his arm illuminated by moonlight filled her mind's eye to the point she was oblivious to the scenery passing by her. "No one in this room would ever hurt you," Remus said quietly "In fact, we'd like to help you if we can."

A draft of air brushed Layla's face, making her shiver with cold and the sudden memory of Malfoy, kissing her cheek, lingering so close to her face, just the night before. Then her eyes caught the tiniest glimpse of her own black, wavy hair, and she flashed back to Bellatrix's wild dark curls engulfing her vision as the Death Eater's dagger ripped open and mutilated her left arm. Trembling, she unconsciously grabbed her left forearm and squeezed it tightly against the intense memory, forming new bruises on her own skin. Suddenly, James reached out and gently touched her hand on her arm. Layla flinched and squeaked, pulling away, her eyes inflamed by her tears. "Did Malfoy force you to take the Dark Mark?" James asked gently.

Layla shook her head hard, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming, drowning in her own mental anguish. Sirius said coldly, "Prove it. Show us your arm."

"No," Layla mumbled defiantly.

James said softly, "Layla, I won't hurt you." He tenderly reached forward and touched her sleeve hesitantly with the tips of his fingers. When he felt her violent tremble but no resistance, he undid the button on her wrist and slowly pushed her sleeve up. The word 'mudblood' burned red against her skin like a brand, the letters raised, interrupting the smoothness of her skin. James hissed at the sight of her arm, as though the word carved into her arm caused him as much pain as it did her. "Bloody hell," he murmured. A sob choked Layla, and her free right hand covered her mouth an instant later as the other three boys leaned in to get a better look at the scars. "Who —"

Layla shook her head before James could get out the sentence. "It's so complicated," Layla said bitterly.

"Why would the likes of Malfoy hang around with someone literally branded a mudblood?" Sirius asked, his tone still forceful, but no longer so unfeeling.

Layla groaned. "There's just so much information," she complained, rubbing at one of her temples with her free hand against a migraine developing there.

"Where are your parents?" Peter Pettigrew asked, drawing attention to himself for the first time.

Layla's eyes narrowed at Peter, bitter hatred boiling in her chest. She tasted bile again, and she swallowed the taste and the feeling, choosing to ignore him. She forced herself to look James in the face, and this time, rather than feeling betrayed that he was not the Boy Who Lived, she felt a sense of relief. This was Harry Potter's father, who had died at Voldemort's hand to protect his son. He, of all people, would believe her insane story. He, of all people, would keep her secret, just as he'd done for Remus Lupin with his lycanthropy. He, of all people, could be trusted. Malfoy was using her to gain some power he saw an advantage. Potter would protect her because she was an innocent victim — for the sake of justice alone and for nothing in return. No price to be paid. No other shoe to drop. "I'm not from America," she admitted quietly. "I was being tortured, and the Time Turner I was wearing broke. That was in 1997, and now I'm here. I was with Malfoy because I showed up in his house because that's where I was being tortured where the Time Turner broke. He seems to think that he's my dark knight now because he healed the wounds his future sister-in-law inflicted."

"My deranged cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange," Sirius said, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

Layla nodded, not looking at him. "I didn't have a wand until he bought me one and sent me back to school, always insisting that I would want to come back to him when school was over. I don't know…" Remus opened his mouth as though to say something, but he never had the chance to say anything at all when Layla broke down again, crying, "Please, I don't know anything. I don't know anything. I don't know anything." The phrase had become her personal mantra recently, she noticed, but it was true. Anything she knew was worthless, no matter what year it was.

"Shh, it's ok," James said softly, pulling Layla's sleeve back down and buttoning it again as she sobbed, completely broken inside. He smoothed the fabric over her scars, saying, "You don't have to know anything. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. It's over. It's all over. Hush, now." There was a soft rapping on the compartment door, and James whispered, "Moony, we have to go to the prefect meeting. Padfoot, can you take it from here?"

Sirius hesitated. "I-I don't know, Prongs…"

"You've got this," James said, standing up and letting go of Layla's arm, which fell limply to her lap. "We'll see you guys at the Welcome Feast."

Layla heard the door open and close, then it was just her, Peter, and Sirius. Sirius sighed then sat down next to her on the bench. She felt his fingers lightly brush her shoulder, and she was shocked when she found herself naturally leaning into the touch. More confident, he put an arm around her shoulders, and she settled closer, burying her tear-streaked face in his shoulder. He rested his chin on top of her dark hair, and she mumbled, "I've known all of you boys, by reputation at least. Lupin was one of my teachers. You're one of the good guys."

Layla didn't know why she'd said it, but she felt Sirius relax slightly under her. "Good to know," he said quietly. After a few moment's silence, he asked, "What house are you in?"

"Ravenclaw."

"What year?"

"Seventh, like you," she said quietly, her tears finally drying up as she sniffled.

Peter said cheerfully, the pep in his voice grating on Layla's ears, "Don't worry, Layla! Once the Welcome Feast is over, we can take you to Professor Dumbledore; he'll know how to help you. He always knows what to do."

Layla pressed her face harder against the firm muscle of Sirius's shoulder as the memory of Dumbledore lying dead on the ground below the Astronomy Tower pulsed through her mind. So many people she knew were going to die, and she was going to have to allow herself to become attached to them, let herself feel the grief and horror of each and every one of their deaths. She wasn't sure she could do it and survive the pain of it all. The door slid open again as a violent shudder of cold fear shot down her spine. Sirius rubbed her shoulder, warming her with friction, as an unfamiliar voice said quietly, "Oh, hey, Sirius."

Layla felt the Gryffindor tense under her as he said coldly, "Regulus."

Layla looked up at the unfamiliar name. Standing in the doorway was a younger boy, maybe fifth or sixth year, who looked quite a bit like Sirius Black, but he was a little shorter and thinner, though still quite handsome. Instinctively, Layla backed away from Sirius just as the younger boy said, "Umm, I'm here to meet Layla actually." Directing his words to Layla, he added, "Lucius Malfoy asked me to keep you company."

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, right," he sneered. "Run back to your Slytherins, little brother. Layla's already got friends."

Hesitating, Regulus continued to watch Layla, apparently waiting for her decision. Layla wasn't sure she'd ever even heard the name Regulus Black; she knew he wasn't around during her lifetime. If he was a Slytherin, though, she was certain he'd be just as entangled with Voldemort and the Death Eaters as his cousins, and she wanted nothing to do with that. Sighing, Layla said politely, "I've got plenty of company already, but thanks anyway. I'm sure Malfoy will understand."

Regulus frowned, but he turned and left without a word, closing the door behind him. For the rest of the train ride, Sirius somehow managed to captivate Layla's full attention with simple questions about her favorite things and wizarding card games until they arrived. James and Remus rejoined the group at the horseless carriages, but they weren't horseless to Layla anymore. The thestrals pulling the carriages were visible to the Ravenclaw girl for the first time, and the sight unnerved her. They reminded her of who she'd lost, and she struggled to hold herself together as Remus helped her into the carriage.

As she walked into the castle, however, a sense of relief and safety washed over her. The Welcome Feast forced Layla to separate from the Marauders, leaving her sitting alone and isolated at the Ravenclaw table. She watched the four boys during the course of the feast, amazed at how happy they seemed to be together. At one point, she accidentally locked eyes with Sirius Black. He grinned when he caught her staring, his grey eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, then he winked at her. She smiled shyly at him until he got distracted by James and looked away from her. As the crowd of students broke up after the feast, Layla struggled to force her way over to the Gryffindor table to rejoin the boys so that they could help her get to Professor Dumbledore's office. Instead, however, she was stopped halfway to the table by Regulus Black. "Excuse me," Layla mumbled, trying to push past him.

"Wait," Regulus said quickly, stepping into her path so she couldn't pass him. "I didn't get to introduce myself properly on the train. I'm Regulus Black. Your friend Malfoy is engaged to my cousin, Narcissa."

Half a smirk appeared on Layla's face. "I wouldn't expect that to last if I were you," she said, remembering Malfoy's own words about reevaluating his relationship with Narcissa Black.

Regulus frowned. "Oh… Well, anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself. You should know that even though I'm a year below you, you can always rely on me for anything you might need. Help finding your way around the castle, a friend to talk to, a study buddy. I'm here."

Layla scrutinized Regulus's face intently, searching for his intentions. Deciding that his motives seemed pure enough, she gave him a small smile. He didn't remind her in the least of his cousin Bellatrix, and she wondered absentmindedly if he had joined the Death Eaters like her, or if he had died young fighting against them like his brother Sirius. She'd never heard his name before the train ride, so she imagined that he must not have been considered a significant loss to either side of the first war. "Thank you," she said softly. "I appreciate that. If I ever need you, I'll come find you."

Regulus nodded, then a hand landed heavily on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly. Layla followed the hand with her eyes to find it attached to Sirius Black, who glowered at his brother. "Leave her alone," Sirius growled.

"You don't own her, Sirius," Regulus snapped back. "She can choose her own friends."

"Or Malfoy can choose them for her, you mean," Sirius said scornfully.

"Enough," Layla hissed. "Let's go, Black." When both boys gave her questioning looks, she clarified, "Sirius."

Sirius grinned triumphantly, and he allowed Layla to brush past him, following close behind her. The other three Gryffindor boys were waiting for them at the doors to the Entrance Hall, and together the five of them climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Arriving at the door, Layla hesitated. It wasn't just not knowing the password that made her stop in her tracks; it was the idea that behind that door was a man she'd known for months was dead, who was now alive again. Her stomach churned at the thought, and she thought, not for the first time since she arrived in 1977, that she might be sick. When she stopped walking, Sirius slammed into her back, nearly knocking her over. He caught hold of her shoulder and steadied her, asking, "Whoa, hey there. What's wrong?"

Layla shook her head. "I just… Nothing. I'm nervous, I guess."

James turned back to her. "It'll be all right, Layla. Dumbledore's one of the good guys, remember?"

She nodded quickly. "Right."

James gave the password, and the stairway to Dumbledore's office was revealed. When they reached his office, the door was open. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his blue eyes twinkling bright and alive. Layla felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her when Dumbledore said, "Miss Layla Danes, I presume. I thought you might come to see me tonight, although I'm surprised you brought so many friends."

Layla hesitated at his words, but then she felt a pair of hands (she couldn't be sure whose) on her back, gently compelling her forward until she found herself in a seat across from Dumbledore's desk. The old man stared at her over the frames of his half-moon glasses, his eyes curious and appraising, waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, James spoke for her. "You've got to keep Lucius Malfoy away from Layla, Professor Dumbledore. He's a Death Eater. He's violent and brutal and hates her. He tortures her!"

Layla corrected, "Actually, he's done nothing bad to me since I got here."

"Why don't you tell Professor Dumbledore where you came here from?" Sirius suggested, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Glaring at Sirius, Layla answered honestly, "Late September 1997. I can't be sure of the exact date because of the whole being held captive and tortured by Snatchers and Death Eaters thing, but it was around then."

Surprise flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "You are a time traveler from the future?" he queried.

Nodding, Layla turned her eyes back to the headmaster. "Yes. A time turner I was wearing got broken and brought me all the way back here."

"May I see the time turner in question?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.

Automatically reaching for her pocket, Layla froze halfway through the motion as she remembered handing Malfoy the time turner in a sleep-deprived haze. "I-I gave it to Malfoy," she said quietly.

"Why on earth would you give something like that to Malfoy?" Remus asked, surprised.

"He wanted proof of my story," Layla said, exhausted. "I was so tired, so hungry, in so much pain… I couldn't… I wasn't… I didn't think…"

"Obviously," Sirius said with a chuckle. James elbowed him hard in the gut, and he grunted, then stayed silent.

"Well, I must say, this is quite a story you've told me," Professor Dumbledore said dismissively. Layla caught a small spark of disparaging amusement in his voice, and she knew what was happening. He had weighed her words and found them to be a fanciful tale from a young girl rather than the truth.

"You don't believe me," Layla surmised.

The professor smiled. "Would you believe such a story on the word of a child if you were in my shoes?"

"I would," Layla countered. "But that's neither here nor there. What else can I do to prove I'm telling the truth?"

Dumbledore gave her a smile that made Layla shiver; it reminded her of the way that Malfoy had sometimes smiled at her since she arrived in his home — like she was a weapon whose strength was about to be tested. It unnerved her to say the least. "Well, you could always tell me the same story again under the influence of Veritaserum," he said casually.

"That's illegal," James said, his shock leaking into his voice.

"She does not have to take the potion, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said indifferently, creating a steeple with his fingertips as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk. "But I do have Veritaserum in my desk, and Miss Danes may take a few drops of the serum if she would like to prove her story to my satisfaction."

"What about the scars on her arm?" James demanded. "Merlin's beard, it's not as though she would have carved the word 'mudblood' into her own arm!"

"Give me the potion," Layla said, a hard edge to her voice.

As Dumbledore removed the potion from his desk, Sirius said quietly, "You don't have to do this, you know."

Layla glanced at the boy with black curls, surprised that he was taking her side. "I know," she said softly as Dumbledore handed her a small vial of clear liquid. "But I'm tired of fighting for every little thing, and if this is the easiest way to get me in a safe place again, so be it." Dumbledore transfigured a piece of paper into a teacup, and Layla dripped a small amount of potion into it and handed the main bottle back to Dumbledore. She tossed the potion back like a shot of alcohol, and a moment later, she began to feel the effects. "My name is Layla Emerson, I'm a seventh year Ravenclaw, and a broken time turner brought me twenty years into the past. I'm stranded and stuck living with Lucius Malfoy and totally alone and scared, and I just want to go home."

Feeling a hand squeeze her shoulder, Layla looked up and found Remus standing behind her, giving her a small reassuring smile. It occurred to her then that he might understand the feeling of being stuck alone with a monster and being afraid of what might happen next. Professor Dumbledore said, "It's extremely unlikely that you'll ever be able to return to your original time, Miss Danes, particularly without the time turner that brought you here. Even if you managed it, I seriously doubt that the future you returned to would be the same."

Unable to stop the outpouring of words from her own mouth, Layla never looked away from Remus's compassionate green eyes as she said, "I know you're a werewolf, Professor Lupin." Face filling with horror, Remus let go of her shoulder and backed away from her. Realizing what she'd said, Layla scrambled, "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that; it's just… With the dementors all around that year, I was such a mess, and you…" Layla's face grew brighter red the longer she spoke. "I shouldn't be telling you all this; I'm sorry. It's just that I don't care that you're a werewolf because you're one of the kindest, best people I've ever met…" She trailed off then, unable to bear the mixed emotions on Remus's face anymore and hid her face in her hands, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood to force herself to stop talking.

Layla could feel everyone in the room staring at her, and she tried even harder to hide from their prying eyes, to no avail. She heard Dumbledore clear his throat as though about to speak, but then Remus's voice cut the tension in the air like a knife. "I was a professor?"

"Yes," Layla mumbled, refusing to move from her attempt at hiding in her own lap. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, my third year. The school was surrounded by dementors because S—" she barely stopped herself in time to keep from saying the name, but only just. "Because a supposed mass murderer escaped Azkaban and was trying to break into the castle. Even with all that distance, I still felt cold and…" She paused, taking in a ragged deep breath. "You saw how bad I felt, and you helped me. Then when Snape told the whole school you were a werewolf at the end of the year and you quit, I was so angry. I couldn't believe he'd do that to you, and then you were just gone. I —" Layla cut herself off again, jumping at the sudden feeling of a hand on her shoulder blade.

"I'm glad I was able to help you," Remus said, his voice a bit choked in his throat. "But I don't think I want to hear anything more about my future self."

For some reason, that comment struck Layla as funny, and she laughed a bit. "If you think your story is bad, then none of the rest of you want to know what happened to you by the time my time turner broke. Lupin was the only one with a happy ending."

"Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Potter. I do believe it is time that Miss Danes and I had a word alone," Dumbledore said firmly.

"No bloody way," James snapped. "She's just a kid, technically younger than any of us, and under the influence of Veritaserum, no less. It's not right for any of us to be totally alone with her right now. I'm staying right here until she leaves." Layla chanced a glance up at the faces around her. James was glaring at Professor Dumbledore, who stared back with his usual calm, collected gaze. Remus wasn't looking at her anymore; instead, he was facing a wall as Peter patted his shoulder and watched his friend worriedly. Sirius's keen gray eyes were watching Layla intently, scrutinizing her every word. "She shouldn't even have taken the Veritaserum in the first place," James said. "Veritaserum is most effective on the unsuspecting and the vulnerable, and clearly it's working well enough on her. She's too vulnerable to be forced to spill all her darkest secrets to you right now."

"I believe that is for Miss Danes to decide," Dumbledore said authoritatively. "It may be that she knows something from the future that is key to defeating Voldemort, and there would be no better time to ask her about it than now."

"Well, let's ask her then," James said. "Layla, do you know anything that would help us defeat Voldemort?"

"There's a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets that's still alive right now," Layla rushed, unsure how the information was relevant. "Only the heir of Slytherin can control it, and that's Voldemort, but Harry Potter killed it my second year with the sword of Gryffindor when a diary of Tom Riddle's possessed Ginny Weasley and nearly resurrected Voldemort. But Harry stabbed the diary with a Basilisk fang and killed the memory of Tom Riddle living in it and saved Ginny."

"Harry – Potter?" James asked slowly. "Is he – my son?" Layla nodded. "Wow. How was he when you last saw him?" James asked eagerly, suddenly excited about the idea of a son.

"He…" Layla hesitated. "He never knew you, you know," she said, hoping to spare him some of the false hope for his future. "You died when he was just a year old." James's face fell. "Voldemort murdered you and your wife."

"But… Harry…" James whispered.

Layla caught James's hand and gave it a squeeze, worried that she'd gone too far. "He loved you to death. His patronus was the same as yours, apparently. He thought the world of you and his mother, and he missed you dreadfully. Last I knew, he was healthy, but in hiding from Voldemort because he'd come back to power and taken over Hogwarts and the Ministry. I don't know where he was or what he was doing, I just know that he loved you and Sirius Black and Lupin more than anyone."

"Enough," Sirius said suddenly. Everyone's attention turned to him as he continued, "That's enough. We don't need to hear anymore tonight, if ever. Dumbledore, I'm guessing that's all she knows about defeating Voldemort, right Layla?" Layla nodded quickly. "Right. Then that's enough. It's time to give her the antidote and put her to bed, I think. Let her sleep somewhere safe for the first time in Merlin knows how long." Without waiting for a response from the others, Sirius took Layla's hand from James, who was too stunned by Layla's words to hardly notice, and led her from the office. They'd made it up the first flight of stairs when Sirius said, "I don't want to know what happens to me. I can guess that I'll probably die young too if James did, and he's the most responsible of the four of us. But I don't want to know how or when all right?"

"All right." They walked in silence up to another floor, then Layla asked, "Where are we going?"

"You're a Ravenclaw, right? So Ravenclaw tower," Sirius answered simply.

Layla looked back over her shoulder at the empty corridor behind her. "This isn't the right way to Ravenclaw tower," she said curiously as Sirius pulled her into a secret corridor.

"Isn't the entrance on the same floor as Gryffindor tower?" Sirius asked. Layla nodded. "Well, then we're going the right way." His voice echoed through the dark, cold stone passage.

After a few minutes hesitation, Layla whispered, "Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to be alone with a bunch of strangers. Not tonight," she breathed, suddenly stopping in the middle of the corridor, forcing Sirius to stop with her.

Sirius watched her curiously. "Well, where else are you going to go?" Sirius asked, annoyed. "It's not as though you actually know anyone here. I mean, you only know Remus personally, and he's hardly the same person now as who you would've known, so many years passing, he must've changed when he became an adult."

"I knew you a little," Layla admitted. "Not very long at all, and mostly just by reputation, well, two very different reputations, really, but I…" Layla forced herself to stop and breathe to keep herself from telling him about the future he hadn't wanted to know about, pulling her hand from his and crossing her arms over her chest. "I know you, a bit, is all."

Eyebrows furrowing, Sirius said, "Are you saying you want to stay with me?"

Face burning, Layla looked away from Sirius, not willing to meet his gaze anymore. "Well, I… yes. I wouldn't ask, but this bloody Veritaserum is making me," she confessed. "I can't seem to shut up, every little thing that passes through my head has to come out my mouth, and I can't filter any of it no matter how hard I try, I'm just…"

"Too tired," Sirius finished for her. "You're exhausted, too much so to fight anything, much less your own thoughts. It's too painful, trying to hold in the words."

Tilting her head, Layla looked at Sirius curiously. "Yes. How did you know?"

Sirius stayed silent, pulling her hand free of her crossed arms and forcing her to start walking again, leading her further down the corridor until they almost reached the door at the end of the hall. Finally, he said quietly, "My parents used to put me under Veritaserum every year when I came home for the summer holidays. Mother, she'd… she'd force me to tell her just how much of a blood traitor I'd been that school year so that she could spend the summer punishing me appropriately. Every year, the punishments got worse, but with practice, the Veritaserum got easier to resist. Of course, by the time I left that old bat's house, I could easily resist the potion altogether, I just didn't want to. I enjoyed watching her get more and more pissed every time I told her what new sins I'd committed against her precious family name that year. This past summer, I lied to her and told her I'd gotten a Muggleborn girl pregnant. It wasn't true, of course, but Mother's head nearly exploded, and I laughed even after she cursed me. But then a week later she brought over my cousin Bellatrix, and they were going to force me to take the Dark Mark, and…" Sirius paused. "I cursed them, and Dad too when he tried to stop me, and I packed my things. Regulus — Regulus begged me to stay, and I begged him to come with me, and, well… you saw how that turned out."

"I'm so sorry," Layla whispered as they stepped out onto the seventh floor, leaving her bewildered as to how they'd gotten there when they had entered the corridor on the fifth floor.

Sirius shrugged as he pulled her around a corner. "It's fine. It's ancient history. I've been living with James and his parents for the summer, and they're wonderful. I could care less what happens in that horrible house anymore."

"I can't believe you really don't care what happens to Regulus anymore," Layla said, surprised. "I mean, he's your brother, and has he really done anything to make you stop caring about him? I didn't think he seemed so bad —"

Sirius stopped then, pushing Layla against a wall with just enough force to take her breath away, but not enough to hurt her. She gasped as he said, "Layla, do me a favor. Shut up about my bloody brother."

Layla watched his forceful gray eyes, her chest heaving with anticipation, although anticipation of what, she wasn't entirely sure. His gaze pierced her and left her chest aching. His eyes burned her soul. "Ok," she breathed. Her heart pounded in her throat and ears as a question escaped her against her will. "Have you ever had sex with anyone?"

Sirius seemed surprised for a moment, then he chuckled, stepping in closer to her. "Why do you ask?" he taunted as he brushed the backs of his fingers down her flaming red cheek.

Swallowing hard, Layla answered, more honestly than she'd ever wanted to, "Snatchers took my virginity, and I… It was bloody awful. But you… you're… you're making me curious."

"Curious?" Sirius teased. "Curious about sex? Sex with me, maybe?" Flushing, Layla could only nod, her throat too tight to trust her own voice. "What about your boyfriend Malfoy? Can't he show you what sex is supposed to be like?" Sirius asked as he ghosted the tips of his fingers over her hip bone. Her breath hitched, and she shook her head hard, feeling nauseous at the thought of Lucius Malfoy touching her in any way. "Why not, sweetheart? Can't stand the thought of your own boyfriend touching you?"

Layla growled, "Malfoy is not my boyfriend."

Laughing softly, Sirius said, "Right, right. Of course, he's not."

"You never answered my question," Layla pointed out, her hand, which was still entangled with one of his, trembling from the rush of hormones flooding her.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Sirius grinned, then said, "It may surprise you to learn, but no, I've never had sex with anyone before. Remus has though. You obviously like him a lot, so perhaps he should be the one to sate your curiosity instead."

Layla shook her head. "N-no, I couldn't…"

"What's wrong?" Sirius laughed. "Sounded to me like you were looking for someone more experienced to show you what a good shag can really be. That's certainly not me — at least, not the more experienced part, anyway."

Embarrassed, Layla pushed away from the wall and past Sirius, but he caught her by the arm and stopped her. "Oh, shove off," Layla said heatedly. "I don't… you… just shove off."

Pulling her back to him, Sirius grinned at her. "I'm only teasing," he said more gently. "What exactly are you so curious about, hmm?"

Their chests bumped against each other, and Layla felt her stomach tighten as she answered, barely audible, "You're just so much more handsome than… than I expected. I didn't exactly see you hardly."

Stifling a laugh, Sirius said, "I have been told that I'm a good-looking bloke before, yeah. So?"

"So," Layla huffed, growing more and more frustrated by the second. "So, you're just very handsome and strong and… you're the only person I know stays single later on that I'm sure I can trust with my life, and…"

"Stop," Sirius said sharply, and Layla halted, struggling to hold in the flow of words. He placed both hands on her shoulders and instructed, "Don't speak anymore; just take a slow, deep breath." Layla obeyed, though her breath came ragged and hot. She let it out just as slowly, her whole body shaking with excitement. "So the point is that I'm hot, single, and you trust me?" Layla stared down at her shoes and nodded. Sirius took her hand again. "You said you didn't want to be alone tonight, right?" Layla nodded again. "Ok, then come with me."

He tugged her along the corridor and around another corner until they reached a portrait of a lady in a pink dress. The Fat Lady asked, "Password?"

"Fortuna major," Sirius said, and the portrait swung open to reveal a brilliant red common room.

Layla hesitated a moment, then followed Sirius through the portrait hole and into the deserted corridor. He led her up a set of stairs to the left, and at the top of the flight, he pulled her into the room immediately to the left. He turned back to her as he walked towards one of the beds in the dark room and held a finger to his grinning lips. Layla whispered, "But the other boys…"

"Doesn't look like they're even back from Dumbledore's office yet, and it's just us four in here. Since you don't want to be alone and you're so incredibly curious about me, I thought you might like to stay the night here with me in my bed."

Layla smiled slightly. "Umm, yeah, ok," she said, growing jittery as Sirius pulled her in close, their faces centimeters apart.

"You can say no at any time," Sirius said, his voice low and husky. "I'll stop whenever you say so." Layla nodded, icy cold fear suddenly clawing at her chest. Seeming to sense the change in her mood, Sirius breathed in her ear, "Don't be scared. I won't hurt you."

Sirius leaned in and kissed her then, his lips soft and gentle against hers. Layla stopped breathing altogether for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of memories of her time held hostage by the Snatchers. She kissed him back hard, rough and demanding, trying her best to drown herself in the sensation of kissing him until she couldn't think of anything else. Sirius took the cue from her and matched her movements, pulling her with him as he walked backward until they both fell back onto his bed, Layla on top. He pulled his lips away from hers, kissing, nipping, and licking his way across her jawline and down her neck, pushing them up enough that he could sit upright, leaving her straddling his lap whimpering with need. She felt him hard in his trousers under her skirt, and more memories of the Snatchers began to buzz around in her head. She felt Sirius pulling the bed curtains closed behind her, and she untied her Ravenclaw tie. Sirius grabbed both ends of the tie and pulled her in closer to kiss her again, nipping at her lower lip and making Layla gasp. She moaned softly as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she tangled her fingers in his short black curls and tugged, making him moan as well. She grinned at the sound; it was so different than the sounds that the Snatchers had made when they'd forced themselves on her, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of triumph that pulling such wicked noises from him gave her.

Suddenly, he lifted her from where her hips had unconsciously begun to rub against his lap, tossing her easily down onto the bed and climbing on top of her. His hand found her inner thigh, and his fingers danced across the exposed skin there, and she made a soft keening sound in her throat. Even in the darkness, Layla could see Sirius grinning at her as his fingers slowly moved up her leg until they were just centimeters away from where she most wanted him to be. She grabbed his hair again and pulled his face down to kiss her lips again, and when he started to touch her through her soaked panties she squealed into his mouth. Sirius chuckled at her reaction, hungrily swallowing the sound as he rubbed her more until she was a moaning, quivering, unintelligible mess. He stopped, making her whine with frustration, and after only a moment's hesitation, dipped his fingers beneath her panties and easily found her swollen clit and began to stroke it slowly, making her moan loudly with delight. Pulling his wand from his trouser pocket, he waved it to cast a silencing spell so that none of their sounds could escape the closed bed curtains, then returned his focus to the Ravenclaw girl beneath his fingers. Teasingly, he worked his fingers down from her clit to the ultimate source of her need, moving lightly around it until she growled with frustration, "Sirius, please."

Sirius shivered at her words. "Merlin," he swore. "I bloody love the way my name sounds when you say it like that." He leaned down and kissed her hard and fast, never ending his teasing ways. "Say it again," he demanded as he released her mouth, leaving her struggling to breathe.

"Sirius," she whimpered, and he rewarded her by pressing lightly with the tip of his finger against her slick entrance without actually entering her.

Sirius hummed in approval. He nipped at her earlobe and whispered, "Again." Layla squirmed under his touch, but she stayed silent, too overwhelmed and desperate to speak. When she said nothing, Sirius removed his hand from her panties altogether. She whined at the loss, and Sirius laughed softly. "Naughty little minx," he taunted. "Say my name again, kitten, and I promise I'll shag you senseless."

Breath ragged, Layla keened, "Sirius… Black…" He moaned and shuddered at the sound of his name, then pulled her closer, ripping open her shirt and popping the buttons off it, making her giggle breathily. He yanked her skirt and panties off as she unhooked her bra and removed it. She grabbed his Gryffindor tie and used it as leverage to force him down to her, recapturing his swollen red lips in hers and forcing her tongue into his mouth, relishing the taste of him as their tongues battled for control of the kiss. When they broke apart, Sirius murmured, "Bloody hell, Layla."

Layla grinned as she untied his tie and threw it on the floor, followed quickly by his shirt and trousers, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. She stared at his toned muscular chest in appreciation for a moment, then he started to remove his boxers, and a sense of panic began to claw at Layla's heart. Her lungs began to freeze in her chest, and she gasped, "Sirius."

He noticed the change in her tone and stopped moving before his boxers came off all the way, leaving her a wondrous view of the skin just below his waistline. "What's wrong?" he said huskily, breathing heavily. Layla hesitated, suddenly cold as ice, folding her arms across her naked chest. He watched her for a moment, then laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her to his chest. "What's wrong, kitten?" he whispered in her ear.

"Sn-Snatchers," Layla mumbled. "In my head, all I can think about…"

Sirius let his fingertips wander and dance up and down Layla's spine soothingly. "It's all right," Sirius shushed her. "Those people are gone. You'll never see them again. Let me make you forget about all that."

His fingers gently rubbed her hip bone in slow, soothing circles. He slowly pulled her legs open again, watching her for any signs of resistance, and when she gave none, he dipped his fingers into her wet center and slowly pushed one inside her. She squealed at the intrusion, and he panicked and started to leave her, but she grabbed hold of his arm and held him in place. She begged, "No, don't stop. Please."

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Sirius began to pump his finger in and out of her agonizingly slowly until he had her hips bucking for more friction. Then he pulled out altogether, and Layla whined impatiently. "Shush, now," he teased, pulling his boxers off and allowing his erection to spring free. He stroked her clit again until she was mewling, and he settled between her legs, his tip pressed against her hot opening, making them both shiver. Sirius leaned down and kissed the sweat off the tip of her nose. "May I —" Sirius began, but Layla impatiently captured his lips with hers then reached between them and grabbed him, pumping her hand up and down tightly. Sirius groaned loudly, breaking the kiss and letting his head lull forward. He rested his forehead against her shoulder as he breathed roughly in her ear. He kissed her cheek rather sloppily, then reached down between them and took hold of his erection as well, and together they guided him slowly into her entrance. Layla quickly let go of him as he penetrated her in favor of grabbing onto his shoulders, digging her nails into him as she whimpered at the sensations. "Fuck, you're tight, Layla," Sirius gasped as he buried himself to the hilt in her heat.

Sirius pulled slowly back out, then thrust hard into her again, quickly refilling her and making her scream. She wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around his broad shoulders and dragged her nails across the skin of his back until he bled. He shuddered under her hands and began to thrust wildly into her, uncontrolled, until the only coherent word she could say was his name, over and over again like a prayer. When he suddenly hit her sweet spot, the first time any man ever had, she gasped as stars filled the edges of her vision. She bit down on his shoulder muscle to try to stop herself from blowing out his eardrums and panted, "Bloody hell, Sirius Black. Oooh, fuck…"

Sirius grinned as he breathed hard in time with his thrusts, one hand holding him up enough that he wasn't crushing her, the other cupping her face. "You dirty thing," he teased. "Such naughty language."

"Your – fault…" she accused, annoyed that she was falling apart at the seams while he was still so coherent.

He chuckled. "True enough," Sirius said, thrusting and hitting that perfect place inside her again that made her writhe and scream underneath him. "Fuck," he growled in her ear as he felt her insides flutter and tighten around him. "You feel so bloody good," he whispered. "But now I want to feel you cum around me. I want you to cum absolutely bloody screaming my name so loud they hear you down in the Slytherin dungeon." Layla whimpered, clawing at his chest in a desperate attempt to grab onto something as he hit her sweet spot over and over and over again. Just as she took hold of his wrists, Sirius breathed in her ear, "What are you waiting for, Layla? Cum for me."

Sirius thrust into her again, and the tension pooling in her belly suddenly broke. Layla buried her face in his shoulder, shrieking his name, her insides clamping down on him as he thrust into her two more times before following her over the edge, groaning her name. They collapsed onto his mess of a bed in a tangled heap, Sirius still inside her. After a few minutes, Sirius pulled himself completely out of her, kissing her cheek. She mumbled, "That was incredible. I had no idea it could feel like that."

Laughing, Sirius replied, "Neither did I. But I think I'm off to a bloody good start at this whole sex thing, wouldn't you?"

Layla giggled, "Oh yes, definitely so."

He smirked at her. "Good. Now, you should go to sleep, kitten. Don't want you to sleep through breakfast because you stayed up too late."

Snorting, Layla said, "Well, what a surprise. I wouldn't have pictured you as the caring, sleep-over-after-sex, take-care-of-the-girl sort, Sirius Black."

"Well, it's like you said, darling," he drawled. "You never exactly knew me properly, did you? And I was twenty years or so older than you. It's not as though you'd have been thinking about what sort of sex partner I'd be in the first place."

"Fair enough," Layla said softly, settling down in bed as he pulled the covers over their naked bodies. Using his strong chest as a pillow, she closed her eyes and desperately tried to hold on to the feeling of being safe and loved in the afterglow of sex. However, it faded quickly, and she soon opened her eyes again. She looked up at Sirius in the dark to see him lying there with his eyes shut, a contented smile lingering on his lips. "Are you still awake?" she whispered.

"Hmm, only just," he mumbled.

"Oh, sorry," Layla said, her face heating with embarrassment.

He shifted as she started to hide her face under the blankets, catching her face with one hand and wrapping his other arm tightly around her waist. "Hmm, don't hide from me now," he said, his voice thick with sleep as he opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Layla shrugged. When he didn't stop waiting for an answer, she finally said, "Just bad memories."

Sirius frowned at that. He stroked her hair soothingly as he said, "Don't think about that stuff now. Just think about me, kitten. Think about the wonderful time we had tonight, yeah?"

Layla nodded against his chest. "Yeah."

Sirius kissed the top of her head. "Push it out of your mind, darling. Focus on how good we felt together, all right? Here," he searched the bed with one hand for a moment, pausing to give Layla's arse a quick squeeze that made her squeak in surprise and him laugh, before he found his wand, giving it a wave and muttering something under his breath. A potion flew into the bed and into Sirius's hand. He handed it to her and explained, "Dreamless sleep potion. It'll help. No nightmares tonight for you. Just dream of me and the way I made you feel tonight, all right?" Layla drank the potion gratefully and without question. "Has the Veritaserum worn off yet?" Sirius asked.

After a moment of thought, Layla answered, "Yes, I think so."

"Good." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep, darling." She nodded, and closed her eyes and laid her head down on his chest again. He continued to stroke her hair until she was suddenly, blissfully asleep.