(A/N: Real quick just wanted to thank my beta Alicia and apologize for the long delay in updating.)

Chapter 13

The silliness and laughter died abruptly with the slam of a door. Harry's grin faltered. George stormed out. He looked briefly at the others. They froze in action. Remus trapped under Sirius and James. They watched Harry waiting for an explanation.

Harry had none. He could guess at what was bothering George, but it wasn't something to be discussed. He didn't know what to say, or what to do. Maybe there was nothing to be done in this situation. He kicked his trunk.

Another mystery. James and Sirius climbed off Remus. The carefree moment destroyed replaced with awkward silence. Looks were exchanged. Questions formed. Curious natures came out to play.

#

George stalked through the common room. His posture and demeanor warned off potential interruptions. The portrait closed behind him before Hermione made a move.

"What was that?" Lily asked alarmed. The brooding figure was a stranger compared to the George she had come to know.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said. "I should go."

"Really?" Lily stated. "He didn't want company."

Hermione bit her lip torn between following George, or getting Harry.

"Fred."

"Fred?" asked Hermione.

"The thing distressing George is about Fred," Harry answered.

"Of course," Hermione said. "Fred."

"Who's Fred?" Lily asked.

"I need to go to George now," Hermione replied.

"Wait, what?" Lily asked bewildered.

"We should," agreed Harry. He came up behind them startling Lily. She jumped.

"He shouldn't be alone," Hermione advised.

Lily studied the pair. She wondered at their strange connection. "Excuse me," she butted in, "do you think it wise to bother him? He was upset." A mild word for what George seemed.

Lily's question penetrated their worry. They stopped mid-step. "He'd probably hex us."

"Or worse," Hermione fretted.

"If I may," interjected Lily, "he needs space. Some alone time so he can reign in what's troubling him."

Hermione bit her lip again. He hadn't asked them to go with him, and he hadn't stayed.

"I don't know," cried Hermione vexed.

"I have patrol in a few minutes. I'll keep an eye out for him, and if he needs one of you, I'll come get you. That way it isn't intruding."

"That's a good idea," conceded Harry. Lily smiled. She got ready for her patrol.

"I don't know what to say to him," Hermione confessed.

"There's nothing we can say," Harry concluded. He remembered how he acted when Sirius died. One minute he craved company, the next he shunned it. He hadn't been receptive to Luna's sage wisdom. He hadn't been ready. George wasn't ready.

#

His footsteps echoed hollowly in the empty corridors. He should be in the tower, but there were people there. A sudden intense grief overwhelmed him. He couldn't explain it to himself, let alone anyone else.

Fred had been gone for months. He'd done several things without him. Playing Quidditch wasn't one of them. He'd been having fun. The freedom of flying, and beating the bludgers. At one point when he'd been laughing and swatting at the stubborn ball, he'd looked up expecting to see his twin. But Fred wasn't there.

It had taken him by complete surprise. He'd almost dropped his bat. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, but it was the first since he'd been here. Being surrounded by strangers who didn't know Fred helped. To them he was just George, not and George.

#

"Lily, we've been this way twice," James complained.

"Sshh!" Lily admonished not sparing him a glance. The extra hour of patrolling provided no sign of George.

"Our patrol ended already."

"You can go," she snapped. "I'm perfectly capable on my own."

James swallowed the smart-ass remark on his tongue. Nice. He had to be nice. This was Lily. Usually when he was in close proximity to her, his mind went blank, and he made a fool of himself. Tonight, her preoccupation grated on him. He was fed up with being ignored.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Nothing."

Be nice, he reminded himself. Hermione instructed him to be nice. But she was so bloody aggravating tonight. Deep breath. He would try a different tack.

"Is there something I can do to help?" He softened his voice.

"No." Lily paid no heed to the genuine offer of assistance. Her mission was to ensure George's well-being. James was not a necessary part of that.

He refused to leave her alone. He matched her step for step. Silence with silence. Anger to worry. James grabbed Lily's arm. He spun her behind a tapestry.

She started to protest. He covered her mouth. He pressed her firmly against the stone wall. His widened eyes stared deliberately into hers.

Lily's eyes darkened. Rage blossomed. How dare he? She opened her mouth to sink her teeth into his palm. She heard footsteps, and a voice.

"Yes, my sweet, find them." Argus Filch encouraged his kitten.

Lily closed her mouth. She barely breathed as Filch came closer. If they got caught, patrol duty, or not they'd be in trouble.

#

James bit back a groan. He stiffened feeling her lips move. He deciphered the calculating look; knew he was seconds away from injury. Her eyes mesmerized him. Trapped him. They narrowed, darkened, and widened. Lightened to a brilliant green. She freed him by turning her head. Without the distraction of her eyes, he realized how close they were standing. He inhaled her sweet scent. He relished the moment of her body pressed to his. It would end all too soon.

Filch approached their hiding place. Lily's heart tried to leap from her chest. The caretaker didn't pause. The footsteps receded. As the danger passed, she was too aware of their intimate position.

His scent mingled with the last vestiges of fear. Her breath hitched. She became conscious of his body. Sensations flowed. She shivered reveling in the differences between the cold wall, and the heat of his body. The hard-unrelenting wall, and his softness as he melded to her.

A sensual haze materialized as she stared into his eyes. The longing stole her breath. Her heart skipped a beat. She should move away. Her brain urged her to, but she was trapped. She licked her lips. Shivered again at his moan.

The scratch of her tongue on his palm drove him over the edge. He moved his hand from her mouth to the wall. It rested beside her head. He leaned into her. She put her hands on his chest. He thought she meant to push him away, but there was no pressure.

Lily pressed her fingers against his shirt in nervous anticipation. He leaned down, closer, and closer. She exhaled a strangled sigh. James Potter was going to kiss her.

Reality came crashing in. She shoved him away, and ran.

"Lily!"

Frustration quickly replaced the last trace of desire. He let himself believe that Lily Evans wanted him as much as he wanted her. And it hadn't felt wrong, it felt incredibly right. He resisted the impulse to run after her. A calm façade descended.

#

"Where are they?" Hermione asked. "I've done rounds. It doesn't take this long."

"I don't know," replied Harry. The same reply he'd repeated for the last thirty minutes.

"It's past curfew." She rustled her parchment, flipped some pages in a book. She couldn't settle.

Harry gave up the pretense of homework a while ago. He perched on the edge of his chair. The lines of his body wound tight, ready to spring.

The portrait hole opened. Lily came in. She rushed by without sparing them a glance. Harry looked at Hermione. She shrugged her shoulders. She stood and swayed this way and that caught by indecision.

Harry nodded toward the girl's stairway. Hermione took the unrequired permission. On the first step she turned back to Harry.

"George?"

"I'll give him a few more minutes, then I'm going to find him."

She nodded and bade him goodnight with strict instructions to notify her when George returned.

Peter was asleep, but Sirius and Remus waited up for James. His patrol stretched longer than usual. Sirius pounced as soon as Harry entered the room.

"Are James and Lily back?" he asked.

"Lily is."

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. Harry and Hermione were not the only ones skilled in silent communication. Harry paid them no notice as he dug in his trunk. He wondered if it made the trip, and if it would work. The invisibility cloak had. Yes! He found it. He stuffed it under his robe to avoid unnecessary questions.

The odd action drew Sirius's eye, but a flushed James scrambled into the room. Sirius forgot the accusations.

"Prongs?"

James shook his head.

"You've been gone for a while?" urged Sirius.

"Ordinary patrol duty," insisted James. He was not going to share his escapades. He needed to process what happened, and what hadn't happened.

Harry was curious, but George was forefront in his mind. He slipped from the room amid the badgering.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The tip of his wand touched the parchment. Ink built the lines of the castle. Tiny dots represented the people. Excellent. Most of the dots were in their respective houses. No one prowled the castle.

What if it didn't show the three of them? They didn't technically exist yet. He hadn't fully questioned Sirius and Remus on the intricate workings of the map.

He checked the Gryffindor common room. There he was. Harry Potter. Uh-oh. If the marauders used their map he'd be in trouble. A dot moved. George Weasley. The dot headed for the Astronomy Tower. Harry sighed.

"Hermione, George is going to the Astronomy Tower."

"How do you know that?"

"The marauders map."

"Why didn't you use it sooner?" she snapped.

"I didn't think of it," he replied.

Harry got comfortable on the couch. He watched the map. Hours later the George dot forged a path to the tower.

"Mischief managed."

#

George slung an errant robe from his trunk. More junk followed as he dug deeper. He hadn't conducted a thorough search of his belongings for inventory. A stroke of pure genius struck the night before as he wandered. The perfect plot.

"Yes!" he cried victoriously. He brandished a large paper sack. "Products. Homemade from your favorite joke shop," he answered Harry's quizzical look.

Harry half-smiled, the other half consisted of something wicked. Revenge danced in his thoughts. People still asked him what shade of lipstick he preferred.

"Which products?"

"Well." George opened the bag. He smirked at the treasures it held. "I've got a couple of…" He stopped short.

Remus came in with a stack of books. James and Sirius on his heels.

"Hey, Harry, George, where did you get your brooms?" James asked. "I've never seen anything like them."

"Custom made," supplied Harry.

"They must have cost a fortune," Sirius commented. They were high quality brooms. Much better than what was on the market. The sleek handles polished to a brilliant shine. The precisely trimmed tail twigs.

"Not as much as you'd think," George said.

"No, seriously," countered James. "We own the latest models, and they cost a pretty knut. Are you rich, or something?"

Remus shot James a censoring look. No tact. James had never possessed tact. Inconsiderate git. Remus considered Harry, and George. His new friends were stingy with details about themselves. It wasn't due to modesty either, it was something Remus couldn't put a finger on. They were uncomfortable, and shifty.

"I got a large inheritance from my parents." Harry told the truth. No point in needlessly lying. Lies spun a web you could easily be caught in. Better to stick as close to the truth as possible.

"I'm sorry," Remus offered. He spilled his books on his bed then compulsively straightened them.

"If you don't mind my asking," Sirius paused unsure how to proceed, or if he should, "what happened?" His curiosity overrode the reproach from Remus. He didn't know anyone their age who had lost both parents.

"An accident." Harry pushed the words out of his dry throat. An accident instigated fewer questions than murdered. Stalling he added, "When I was a year old."

"So, you don't remember them?" James asked aghast. He couldn't imagine a life without his mum, and dad.

"No," Harry lied. He banished the memories he gained during his visit to Godric's Hollow. "At least not first hand. People have told me stories, and I have pictures."

"How sad." Sirius was unaware he spoke aloud. "What?" he asked as they stared at him. "I don't always have the emotional range of a teaspoon."

They playful slap from James and the ensuing chuckles lightened the mood.

"How long have you been playing Quidditch?" James changed the subject. He bounced on the balls of his feet. Sirius settled in for a long discussion. Remus prepared to listen half-heartedly as he cracked the spine of a book.

"Since I could walk," George said. Bill and Charlie had snuck him and Fred on their brooms. The clock warned Mrs. Weasley. She came shrieking out of the house. She yelled until they were on the ground, then she yelled some more.

"My first year at school," Harry replied.

"What?" cried James. Flabbergasted. Harry's flying at tryouts broadcast years, and years of training.

"I lived with Muggles until I went to school. I didn't know anything about Quidditch."

"But…but…" James stuttered.

"There's funny story behind him making the team as a firstie," teased George. Wood's excited gibberish about McGonagall finding a seeker. "It started with his first flying lesson." George relayed the tale. Harry interrupted occasionally to correct the facts.

"A fifty-foot dive to catch a remembral witnessed by a professor. She was livid," George said.

"She marched onto the field calling my name. I thought I was expelled. She told me to follow her. She didn't speak again. I was terrified. She was the sternest teacher we had."

"Sounds like McGonagall." Sirius snorted.

"Exactly," agreed Harry. "She pulled this student from class saying she found him a seeker. I had no idea what was going on."

"No punishment?" asked James.

"She told me to practice hard, or she would rethink the punishment."

"Luckiest git in the world," George said. "The youngest player in a Century to play on a house team."

"Is that when you had your broom made?"

"No, the same teacher bought me one. George," Harry said, "I wish you could have seen the look on…" he hesitated. He almost said Malfoy. "The ferret's face," he substituted, "when he saw me with a broom. He turned me in to the Charms teacher, but I had special permission."

"Special permission?" interjected Remus. His book slipped from his lap. He became engrossed in the story being told.

"First years aren't allowed their own brooms at Bobbleton."

"Ah!" shrieked James. He grabbed his chest in mock horror, or real horror considering his obsession with Quidditch.

Harry ignored his father's antics saying, "Hermione's birthday is next week." Subject effectively changed before more probing questions could be asked. "We should do something special this year." He couldn't remember celebrating her birthday. He wasn't certain he'd wished her a single happy return.

"What did you have in mind?" George asked.

"Wait," Sirius interrupted, "Hermione's birthday is when?"

Harry's brow furrowed at the panic in his godfather's inquiry. "Next week. The 19th."

Without another word Sirius grabbed a spare piece of parchment, and a quill. He disappeared behind the curtains.

James regarded them with an 'I know something you don't' smirk.


Thanks to all those who have reviewed. I appreciate it. Also I could use some help, if you have any suggestions on what Sirius should get Hermione (besides himself) for her birthday, please pass those along. Thanks.