I'd hoped that Potter would forget all about our deal; that I would wake up the day after and realize I'd fallen, hit my head, and imagined the entire thing. It seemed like I might be in the clear – a week had passed and I hadn't had a single encounter with a Marauder.

That was my downfall – I let my guard down. I was enjoying a nice, quiet walk through the grounds, alone, when I heard someone call my name behind me. I groaned, coming to a halt and letting my head fall back. I'd finally gotten a moment to myself – Bertram was in the hospital wing dealing with a nasty burn he'd gotten in Potions that afternoon, and Florence was with her boyfriend, Dominic, in some broom cupboard or another. I'd been looking forward to an afternoon alone, but naturally, the Marauders couldn't let that happen.

I turned on my heel so I was facing the boys, who were rushing down the hill towards the lake. Potter's hair was messy, falling into his face, and his robes were falling off his shoulders. He came to a stop in front of me, pushing the hair out of his eyes impatiently and adjusting his robes. Black followed behind him at a much more dignified pace, coming to a stop and looking me up and down cooly. Remus followed Black, smiling at me kindly. Pettigrew was the last to arrive, his stumpy legs carrying him at a much slower pace than his taller friends.

Potter waited for everyone to be gathered, tapping his foot impatiently for Pettigrew, before speaking. "Hey there, Frankie!"

"Hello, boys," I said slowly. Potter looked jubilant, a wide smile on his handsome face. His eyes were twinkling against his tanned skin; he was the definitive of attractive. And yet, I couldn't help but be distracted by his dour best friend, standing next to him with his arms crossed and his mouth set in a straight line. I let my eyes wander for a moment, seeing that he wasn't looking at me anyway. His shoulders were broad, and I could see the definition of his muscles even through his black robes; Black was a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and while I didn't care much for Quidditch, I could appreciate the benefits.

"Mhm." Remus cleared his throat. He was smirking at me, having clearly seen me checking out his best friend. I felt my cheeks heat, but turned my attention back to Potter, who was looking at me with a large, oblivious smile.

"You are a hard woman to get alone," James said accusingly, narrowing his eyes playfully. "We've been trying all week, but you're always with someone."

I snorted. I crossed my arms, and dropped my bag to the ground. It was getting heavy and I could tell that this was going to be a long and obnoxious conversation. "I'm alone…sometimes."

Remus stepped forward and picked up my bag. "You're never alone, Frankie. Aubrey and Hemings are practically your shadows." I rolled my eyes – Bertram, Flor and I spent a normal amount of time together.

"Fascinating coming from you lot," I snorted. It was, after all, nearly unheard of to see one Marauder without at least one of the others. "Anyway, what did you need?"

"Your help!" Potter said brightly. "Come on, we have so much we need to talk about!" He stepped towards me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leading me back towards the castle. I allowed him to lead me, although the weight of his arm was unfamiliar. I wasn't used to being touched casually by people I didn't know well; I'd been friends with Bertram for years, and sometimes he still gets jumpy when his arm accidentally brushes mine when we walk down the corridors. The only guy that I'd ever been super comfortable around had been Mason, Oscar's best friend and my ex-boyfriend. And it'd taken us years to get that comfortable around each other; he'd spent nearly every summer at our house, and I'd spent a lot of time with him and Oscar when they were at Hogwarts, despite the fact that they were both Ravenclaws and I was in Hufflepuff.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To plan!" Pettigrew said from beside me.

"Wouldn't it be better to plan out here…away from prying ears?" I asked.

"Nah, we know somewhere where no one will be able to overhear us," James dismissed, dropping his arm from my shoulder. "Trust me."

I glanced to Black, who was staring ahead intensely. Remus was beside him and he smiled at me reassuringly. "I promise, we're not going to kill you," he said with a chuckle.

"So where are we going?" I asked again, starting to get impatient.

"Relax, Russo," Black snapped. "You'll see."

I allowed the boys to lead me up to the seventh floor, ignoring their antics for the most part as I wondered where they could be taking me. Potter came to a stop in front of a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy and a bunch of trolls. I pondered how I came to be in this situation, blindly allowing the Marauders to lead me through the school, as Potter walked back and forth down the hallway.

"What the fu…." I began impatiently, worried that someone might see us as we stood randomly in the center of a corridor for no apparent reason.

"Shhh," Remus shushed me, motioning towards the tapestry with his head. I turned to look at it and gasped. There, next to the tapestry, where I was expecting to see a stone wall, was now a discreet wooden door that certainly hadn't been there two seconds ago.

"But….that…" I stuttered, confused.

"Yeah, yeah," Black said impatiently, pulling me through the door. "You can stutter all you want inside, before anyone sees."

I ripped my arm out of his grasp once we were through the door, and stepped fully into the room. Remus and Potter were squabbling about something, and I took the opportunity to look around. The room was dark, but cozy. There was a roaring fire in the hearth directly across from the door, surrounded by plush, red couches. Throw carpets littered the floor, adding to the homey feel of the room. There was a bookshelf stuffed with books in one corner of the room, and a table set with wizard's chess in the other. Black threw himself down onto one of the couches next to Pettigrew, as Potter and Remus finished up their argument. They took seats across from Black and Pettigrew; it was obvious by the way they fell into their seats that they came here often and had predetermined spots.

I stood frozen in my spot for a second, until four sets of heads turned my way, staring at me. Remus gestured to the open armchair between the two couches, facing the fire. "Take a seat, Frankie."

I did, cautiously. I flicked my shoes off, and let my toes sink into the fluffy carpet below. I took a deep breath and looked at each boy in turn. Nobody spoke, so I did. "Well, what is this place?"

"Room of Requirement," Potter said simply. I cocked my eyebrow at him, prompting him to elaborate. "Basically, the room becomes whatever you tell it to be. Whatever you need it to be. We modeled this on the Gryffindor common room; made some adjustments, obviously, but we come here when we need some privacy. Figured we could talk openly here without your friends finding you. We figure no one knows the room is here but us, anyway."

"But…how? I…I mean…what?" I stuttered again, looking around in amazement.

"Magic, obviously," Potter said with a smile. "We don't really know how, but isn't it amazing?"

"Yeah…." I said, nodding my head. "Bloody amazing."

"You never really get used to it, eh?" Remus asked, noting my amazement.

"Never," I agreed. "Nearly eight years in the wizarding world, and there's always something that blows my mind. Last week, Bert told me that there are dragon tamers? Who the hell wakes up and thinks to themselves, "wow, I'd really love to wrangle some dragons for the rest of my life?" I mean it's totally insane, right?"

Pettigrew looked at me as though I was crazy, but Potter nearly snorted. "I think it'd be fun! Imagine being face to face with a dragon every day? If I wasn't going to be an Auror, I think I'd like to do that."

"You're afraid of lizards, mate, I don't think you'd do well with a huge lizard that can breath fire and wants to eat you," Black chuckled, examining his fingernails.

"True," Potter conceded. "Anyway, Frankie, let's get down to the real reason we brought you here."

"Right," I said. "Which is?"

"Planning!" Potter said enthusiastically. "Operation Lily Potter! We need to get a move on."

There was a large silence that followed Potter's announcement, during which all four of the boys stared at me. "So…?"

"So…what's the plan?" Potter prompted, looking at me like I was thick.

"Oh, um…" I floundered. "I…don't know."

"Come on, Frankie, you've got to come up with something. I'm getting desperate over here! She dumped her oatmeal on me this morning!"

I'd seen that, actually, and I'd thought it was horrible. Why Potter still wanted to date her, I couldn't understand – she was nasty and rude. I'd be over the moon if someone showed me as much attention as Potter showed her; but hey, to each their own, I suppose. I just wish she could walk away, instead of causing a scene every time Potter asks her out – I really hated hearing her screeching so early in the morning.

I was the only one who felt that way, I suppose. Black had barely been able to stifle his laugh, and Remus was struggling to maintain a neutral expression. Pettigrew was somewhere between laughing and looking sympathetic. "It's not funny guys!" Potter whined.

I shot Remus a glare. "Alright…alright. They're done I promise. Okay, so you need my help asking Lily on a date, right?"

"Right."

"And have you taken my advice on just trying to…chill out a little?" I asked.

"Well, I mean…"

"No, you have not," Black interrupted him. "You told her she was perfect about ten times this morning. Thus – oatmeal."

"Right, maybe you should cut it out with that," I said.

"But, she is perfect! And her hair looked so pretty this morning. Oh, and she was wearing that perfume…"

"Prongs, please spare us. We heard it all this morning," Black said impatiently.

"I can't help it, mate."

"Wait, but Frankie is right," Remus interrupted. "You do need to chill."

"We've been telling you that for years!" Black added, indignantly.

"No, you haven't," Pettigrew squeaked. Black turned to glare at Pettigrew next to him, who turned bright red under his gaze. "I'm just saying. You always encourage him because you think its funny when she freaks out."

Black ruminated on that for a minute before shrugging. "Yeah, true. But you've got to admit, Evans has a special way of hitting Prongs where it hurts – and it's funny as all hell. Besides, I'm sure I've told you at least a couple of times that you need to chill."

Potter looked like he was going to continue to argue, so I spoke quickly. "Look, if you really want her – which obviously you do – then you need to stop asking her out, stop complimenting her, and just talk to her like she's a normal person."

"But, she's not a normal person. She's a girl," Potter sputtered.

I smiled. "You're talking to me just fine, and I'm a girl, right?"

"I guess you're right," Potter sighed, running his hand through his hair. "But talking to you is easy. It's like you're not even a girl. It's just different."

"What he means is," Remus added hastily, glaring at Potter. "That you're easy to talk to because you're our friend. Definitely a girl, ignore that tosser over there."

"Right," I chuckled, unbothered. "Anyway – what I think you should do is just talk to her like you talk to me. Keep it casual and normal. Ask her how her day went, or about an assignment. Don't compliment her, don't act like a crazy person. Or, if you want to do something a little extra, do something nice for her."

"Like what?" Potter asked, cocking his head to the side.

I looked to Remus for help, but he shrugged. Black was no help either, staring morosely into the fire. Pettigrew's eyes were darting around the room, but he wasn't making eye contact with me. "Well, I don't know, Potter. You're the one who likes her. What kind of stuff does she like?"

Potter thought about it for a minute before responding. "Well, she really loves being Head Girl, and she's really stressed out about doing a good job. Maybe I can do the patrol schedule for next month early, surprise her with it, so she doesn't have to worry about it later. She's always getting angry that I leave it to the last minute and then she has to do the whole thing herself."

I smiled. "I think that sounds like a really good plan, Potter."

He smiled widely and clapped his hands together. Remus was smiling also, although he was directing his at me. Black finally looked away from the fire and turned towards me. He pursed his lips slightly but nodded once at me.

"Great, well, I'm glad we got that done. Is there…anything else? Or can I go?" I asked rubbing my hands together and clapping.

"I think we're good here," Black snapped, speaking for the group. "Wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your boyfriend by taking up too much of your time."

"Once again," I said, standing up and gathering my bag from Remus. I slipped my feet back into my shoes. "Bertram is not my boyfriend."

"Padfoot, could you maybe be civil, at least?" Potter moaned, rolling his eyes.

"I could," he responded, his grey eyes calculating as he looked me up and down. "But that would be much less fun."

Later that week, I was out doing my rounds in the basement, when I decided I could take a ten minute break and stop into the kitchens for a piece of cake. I tickled the pear doorknob and opened up the portrait into the kitchen. I was accosted by ten or fifteen house elves, who all wanted to know what they could help me with. I politely asked for a slice of the chocolate cake they'd put out at dinner, and two of them ran off to get me one. A handful of other house elves pushed me towards a table in the back, where, sitting next to the largest slice of chocolate cake I'd ever seen, was Sirius Black. He was sitting with a self-satisfied smirk as he watched me approach.

"Russo," he acknowledged, inclining his head. "Big sweet tooth?"

"I just wanted a little snack," I said awkwardly, letting my hands fall to my side uselessly. I came closer, taking the seat across from him. "What's got you up so late?"

Black sat back and crossed his arms. His eyes were cool as he looked at me. "You're a terrible prefect," he said, ignoring my question.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've never really been sure why Dumbledore chose me. I tell Flor all the time she would have been the better choice."

Black didn't answer. He picked up the fork he'd dropped and took a big bite of pie. I pulled the slice of cake towards me, and took a bite. The chocolate melted in my mouth, and I basically moaned in satisfaction. I let my eyes open; Black was staring at me, smirking.

"Good cake?" He deadpanned.

"The best," I smiled.

"I've never seen a girl so enthusiastic about food before," he said, somewhat judgmentally. "You do the same thing at meals, too."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure that the girls you hang out with barely eat," I shot back, defensively, not catching that he'd obviously spent enough time watching me to notice what my eating habits were.

"The girls I hang out are usually a little too busy to eat. Mouths are…occupied," he shot back with a wink.

"That's disgusting," I said indignantly. I curled my lip in disgust, but Black merely snickered.

"You're such a prude," he laughed.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" I asked, heatedly. I hated when people made fun of me – especially when they were right.

Black sat back again. "I don't dislike you," he protested.

"Could have fooled me," I sighed.

"Why do you think I dislike you?" He asked. His brow was furrowed in obvious confusion.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably the general attitude that you'd rather be anywhere else than in my presence."

Black sighed loudly, and leaned forward. "Look…" he began.

"It's fine, if you do," I interrupted him. "I just don't understand why."

"I don't dislike you, Russo. I'm just…not used to there being other people around. Prongs, Wormy, Moony, and I…we do everything together. It's always the four of us. I guess I'm just used to it being just the guys. I don't really know how to act around other people," he explained. "I don't want you to think I don't like you."

"Oh…" I trailed off. I picked my fork up again, and continued eating my slice of cake. I let the silence linger for a couple of seconds. "Can you explain something to me?"

"I guess."

"Why did you walk me home from the owlery?" I asked. It'd been something I couldn't explain, something that had confused me for weeks.

Immediately, Black's face shifted. His eyes cooled and he became extremely guarded. "It really doesn't matter," he said coldly.

"It does to me," I insisted.

"Look, can you not push it?" His voice was quiet, but I could tell he was angry. For some reason, despite my intuition telling me to drop it, I didn't.

"But I don't understand. Does it have something to do with what's going on with You-Know-Who? Are you really so worried about that?"

"Russo, I'm warning you to drop it," he hissed.

"You can't really think that all of that is happening in Hogwarts, can you?"

"Russo…"

"Is it because your brother…"

"DON'T!" He screamed, standing up suddenly. "DON'T YOU EVER SPEAK ABOUT HIM TO ME."

"Black, I'm…I'm sorry," I apologized hastily, standing up as well. "I didn't know…"

"Exactly," he hissed, his voice still loud. I looked over my shoulder; all of the house elves had scattered. I took a step back, nervously. "You don't know anything. So don't talk about shit you don't understand."

He pushed away from the table and stalked over to the exit. He hesitated at the door and looked over his shoulder; he looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He pushed out the door without another glance. I let my head fall back and sighed. I pulled the cake back towards me, and took a big bite; although it was the same piece of cake, it suddenly tasted like dust in my mouth.