Once the Welcome Feast ended, Lily's nerves finally began to settle. She'd eaten with James and his mates, and it had gone more smoothly than she had expected. James might have been a terrible liar, but his acting skills were passable, at least. As long as nobody asked him directly whether or not they were dating, they might actually pull this off. And their performance during dinner had been a success: Severus had stared at them, but he'd slunk off to the dungeons immediately after the plates Vanished from the tables.

Mission accomplished, thought Lily. Hopefully their little charade would keep Severus away.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, James was directing the flow of students, sending the newly-Sorted first years to the proper common room. Lily couldn't believe how effortlessly he'd adopted the role of Head Boy; so far, he was actually doing a decent job. More than decent, in fact. He guided the first years with a calm sort of confidence, and the students were listening to him.

As though he could sense that she was thinking about him, James looked her way, grinning. "Feel like lending a hand, Lily? Or were you just planning on watching?"

She shrugged and positioned herself on the opposite side of the door. "I didn't think you needed my help. You seem to have the situation under control."

"The first years are cute, aren't they?" he said. "Utterly clueless, though… I swear I was nothing like this when I was ten."

"You were even worse."

"I was not!" protested James. He grabbed a first-year student by the shoulders and spun him in an about-face. "Hufflepuff common room's that way, there's a good lad…"

"You were worse. You wouldn't wait for the prefects to show us to Gryffindor tower, remember? You insisted you already knew where it was and went dashing up the stairs…"

James' smile grew sheepish. "I'd forgotten about that."

Lily pointed a pair of tiny, curly-haired girls towards the dungeons. "I remember Professor McGonagall dragged you into the common room by the arm. She even took points, didn't she?"

"Yeah, two, I think," he said with a laugh. "I'm lucky she didn't give me detention, honestly."

"That must have been some kind of record. Two points from Gryffindor, and you hadn't even been Sorted an hour."

"I've made up for it, though, haven't I?" James nodded towards his badge.

He was fishing for compliments, but she wasn't going to hand them out so easily. "We'll see."

Once the last of the first years had slipped out of the Great Hall, Lily and James began the long climb to Gryffindor tower, bantering all the while.

"Did you notice Snape during the feast?" he asked once they had reached the seventh-floor landing.

"Yeah," she said, panting. Talking to James made her a tad breathless, and the many flights of stairs weren't helping. "He left early. I think you scared him off."

"Was I a convincing fake boyfriend, then?"

The word 'fake' shouldn't have stung as much as it did. "I thought so," said Lily, trying to sound unruffled. "You paid a decent amount of attention to me —"

"Decent? We talked practically the entire dinner —"

"You definitely spoke to Sirius more. I prefer my boyfriends to focus their attention exclusively on me." The lilt in her voice made it clear she was joking, and James laughed.

"Fine. I'll smother you with affection next time. We'll see how well you can eat when I won't let go of your hand. Might hold both your hands, actually, to prove my undying devotion —"

Her heart stuttered, like a car slamming its brakes. "I thought we agreed to no hand-holding?"

"Did we? I don't think we talked about it."

He was right. Damn it. "Let's keep the physical affection to a minimum," she said as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Making appearances together should keep Severus convinced about our relationship. No need to… complicate things by holding hands, or hugging, or what-have-you."

"Isn't that an important part of a relationship, though?"

Like you're such an expert, she wanted to retort. Why couldn't he just agree that they shouldn't touch each other more than absolutely necessary? If he didn't think feigning physical affection was a big deal, he must not have any feelings for her at all. The thought was… depressing.

Best not to let on that she felt that way, though. "We're not actually dating, James," she said primly. "We don't have to do everything that real couples do." She turned to the Fat Lady and tried very hard to act like she didn't care that the portrait had just overhead their humiliating conversation. "Er, the password…"

"Bumbershoot," supplied James, and the portrait swung open.

Although curfew wasn't for another hour, the common room was nearly empty, as most students were still unpacking their things. "Well — good night, Lily," said James. He nodded at her, then vanished up the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories.

She watched him go, biting her lip. I'm in so much trouble, she thought. Unrequited love was a feature of the Muggle novels she devoured, but she'd never imagined it would feel like this. Like embarrassment and excitement and longing all rolled up into one.

At least she didn't have to hide her feelings for James from her friends. Marlene already believed they were dating and had surely broken the news to Mary and Parvana by now. The girls were likely in the dormitory, waiting for her to arrive so they could debrief about exactly how it had happened.

"You won't believe this," said Lily, pushing open the door to their dormitory. As she'd suspected, Marlene and Mary were laying side-by-side on Marlene's bed, while Parvana was carefully unpacking her Quidditch robes. "Just finished herding the first-years with James Potter, and he actually did a decent job. If I didn't know better, I'd —"

She broke off, staring.

"Something the matter?" asked Marlene, rolling onto her stomach.

"Er." Lily looked about the dormitory. "Where's my bed?"

Mary sat up. "Odd, isn't it? We were wondering the same thing at first."

Lily's palms began to sweat. There wasn't even an empty space where her bed should have been; the three beds in the dormitory were equally distant from one another, leaving no room for a fourth. Had she been expelled after all, and just hadn't gotten the notice? But no — surely someone would have told her if that was the case. So what was going on?

"Merlin's beard, Lils," said Marlene. "You look like someone just died."

"I —" Lily spluttered. "My bed —"

"…Is in your private room," finished Marlene smugly.

She must have misheard. "My what?"

"You're so lucky," sighed Mary.

Parvana turned, placing her neatly folded Quidditch robes atop her bed. "Professor McGonagall came by to tell you about it, but you hadn't gotten back yet. It's exciting, isn't it?"

"I wish I was Head Girl," moaned Marlene. "If I'd known a private room was part of the bargain…"

So she hadn't been expelled? "You're serious," said Lily slowly.

"'Course we are," said Marlene.

Beside her, Mary bounced up and down with excitement. "Can we see your room? After you unpack, of course. I'm so curious…"

"Erm, yeah, sure," said Lily dazedly. "You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?"

"Professor McGonagall said you're to stay in the room they made for Sally Dearborn after you found her last year," said Marlene. "The one at the top of the stairs?"

"Oh, right," said Lily. A part of her still suspected that this was some sort of elaborate prank. "Well, I guess I'll go… get settled in, then."

She closed the door to the dormitory, then continued up the winding staircase. At the very top of the stairs was a plain-looking wooden door, affixed with a plaque that read 'Head Girl'.

Not a prank, then. Lily took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The quarters were surprisingly roomy. There was a sitting area with a hearth, a squashy-looking sofa, and two armchairs — did Dumbledore expect her to have company? — and a table in the corner that was large enough for four people to comfortably fit. Even more strangely, the suite had three additional doors apart from the one she had entered from: one on either side of the hearth, and one on the far wall opposite where she had entered. Was it possible this place had a kitchen and a study, too?

Well, perhaps it wasn't so odd. After being trapped in a painting for a year, Sally Dearborn had probably wanted enough space to stretch her legs.

Lily cautiously pushed open the door to the left of the hearth. Inside was a spacious bedroom that was easily larger than the seventh year girls' dormitory, with a luscious four-poster bed covered in scarlet sheets and enough pillows for her to get lost in. Not only that: there was another fireplace, and a small desk by the window that looked perfect for studying. And was that cinnamon she smelled? Yes — there, on the bedside table, was a plate of biscuits. She had no doubt that they were still warm.

This is incredibly generous, thought Lily. Sally Dearborn had certainly deserved all these comforts and more after her ordeal. But Lily? She would have been content to sleep in the seventh year girls' dormitory, same as ever.

"Mad, isn't it?"

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned around; James Potter was standing in the common area. The door on the far wall swung shut behind him, but not before she caught a glimpse of the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories. So the Head Girl's private quarters sat at the top of both the boys' and girls' dormitories? Strange.

"Don't do that to me," said Lily, massaging her heart. "What are you doing here?"

"Er," said James. "I'm supposed to sleep here now, I guess."

"You what?"

"Yeah," said James, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Guess this is a new thing Dumbledore's trying. Having a Heads' dormitory, I mean."

No. There had to be some kind of mistake. "You're joking," said Lily. "This is the Head Girl's dormitory. It said so on the door."

"Are you sure about that?" James pulled open the door he had just entered from and gestured to a plaque that read 'Head Boy'.

She gawked at the plaque, as though its lettering might change if she stared long enough. "Oh, my God."

James shrugged, then closed the door and sat at the table in the common area. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?"

"You — I — we can't share a dormitory!"

"Well, we've got our own rooms, said James. "We only have to share the common space, technically." He jerked a thumb at the door to the right of the hearth. "That's my bedroom, by the way."

The sofa cushions sank several inches under Lily's weight as she sat and put her head in her hands. "What was Dumbledore thinking?"

"It is a bit mad," agreed James. "Maybe he thought it'd be a shame to let the place go to waste after Sally left."

"There are hundreds of unused rooms in Hogwarts. I'm sure one more wouldn't have made a difference."

"Fair point." James pulled out a deck of cards and began to shuffle. "Honestly, though, having a dormitory for the Head Boy and Girl is a good idea."

Lily's voice was muffled between her hands. "And why's that?"

"Well, being Head is a bore. Who in their right mind would want to spend their free time supervising prefects? But this — having your own quarters — gives being Head a bit of an incentive, doesn't it? I'm surprised nobody thought of it sooner."

She couldn't believe he was being so obtuse about this. "Giving a boy and girl their own private space is a supremely bad idea."

He laid a few cards on the table. "How's that?"

Did he really not know? Surely he wasn't that clueless. "Because — oh, think about it, James!"

He frowned at the cards in front of him. "Do you think the other students would get jealous? Because I say tough luck, if they wanted the position they should've worked a little harder —"

"No — I — that's not it at all!"

"Then what?"

She couldn't believe she had to spell this out for him. "Because of the sorts of things teenagers get up to, James! Leaving two people of the opposite sex alone, unsupervised, is a recipe for all kinds of trouble, and I cannot believe Professor McGonagall didn't put a stop to this once she heard what Dumbledore was planning!"

"Oh." James sounded far too blasé for her liking. "I see what you mean. Well, that won't be a problem for us, will it?"

Unfortunately. "I hope not."

"It's lucky, actually, that we're pretending to date," he said, sounding pleased. "We've already laid out ground rules about not touching one another. So there's no danger we'll cross a line."

"That's true," said Lily begrudgingly. God. He really was over her, wasn't he?

James was clearly finished with the conversation. "Exploding Snap?" he offered, gesturing at the cards.

"No, thanks," she gritted out. "I'm tired. I'm going to unpack and go to bed."

"Oh, alright," said James. "In that case, would you mind if the Marauders came up? They wanted to see the Heads' dormitory, and I told them…"

She didn't even have it in her to make fun of that nickname. "Be my guest," she said, and she fled to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

As she unpacked, she began to reconsider her estimation of Dumbledore. Maybe his detractors were right — surely this was a scheme only an evil wizard could cook up. It was bad enough that James was Head Boy. Now they had to share a dormitory, too?

Because that was what it boiled down to: she was sharing a dormitory with the same arrogant bastard she couldn't get enough of.

Lily was glad for the plethora of pillows on her bed, because if she screamed into one, nobody would hear her.

She was in trouble. So. Much. Trouble.

"Excellent," said Sirius the following morning, looking at the timetable that Professor McGonagall had just handed him. "We've got Defence Against the Dark Arts right after breakfast. Can't wait to see what that fit bloke has in store for us."

"I think he's going to be a good one." James glanced towards the staff table at the other end of the Great Hall. "He's got that look about him. Like he knows things."

"You said the same thing about Professor Grimblehawk last year, and look at how that turned out," said Remus. Sirius' excitement was contagious, but Remus was trying very hard not to get his hopes up about this new professor. The man might appear competent, but looks meant nothing when it came to Defence professors. He'd learned that much over the last seven years.

"Professor Grimblehawk did a fine job!" said James.

"She should never have been hired in the first place," said Remus, turning a page of the Daily Prophet. Professor Grimblehawk had been staggeringly absent-minded, and had left the top off the terrarium housing the Flesh-Eating Slugs they had been studying. They'd had to teach themselves for the remainder of the school year.

"This bloke's going to do a better job," said James confidently.

"I'm not holding my breath," said Remus.

After breakfast, they traipsed to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the first floor. Sirius and James took their usual positions at the back of the room, while Remus sat at the front, next to Peter. He would have preferred to be somewhere in the middle of the room — easier to escape the teacher's notice that way — but Peter always insisted on sitting close to the blackboard, and Remus generally humoured him.

He opened his copy of Advanced Defensive Theory and flipped through it while he waited for the new professor to arrive. But at five minutes past the hour, there was no sign of him.

Next to Remus, Peter was chewing on a quill. "The new professor couldn't have been mortally injured already, could he?"

"Maybe there were a few Flesh-Eating Slugs still hanging around the Defence office," said Sirius loudly, and a handful of students tittered.

"Hope he wards them off better than Grimblehawk did," said James. "Something tells me he'd hate to lose his —"

"My what, now?"

The new professor shut the door behind him and looked at James with some interest.

"Er, nothing, sir." James bit back a grin.

"Pity," said the professor. "I was hoping to hear the punchline of that one." He bounded to the front of the room, adjusting the violet scarf that was draped jauntily around his neck. "I suppose introductions are in order, then. I'm Professor Fabian Prewett, your newest Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. And you're my seventh-year N.E.W.T. students, is that right?"

Several people nodded.

"Why don't we all stand up?" said Professor Prewett. "Yes, excellent… you can put that book away," he added, nodding towards Remus. "We won't be needing it today."

Remus blinked, not used to professors addressing him directly. He shoved his copy of Advanced Defensive Theory into his bag.

As soon as everyone was on their feet, Professor Prewett waved his wand, and the tables and chairs vanished from the room. Sirius, who had been leaning on his chair, stumbled a little.

"We'll need a little more space for what I've got in store today," said Professor Prewett, and with another wave of his wand, the room expanded until it was twice its normal size. "That's better. Wands out, everybody!"

The classroom broke into excited chatter; it had been nearly two years since they'd last done wandwork in Defence. Peter turned eagerly to Remus. "What d'you think we'll be doing?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," said Remus. "Nonverbal spells, maybe, since Professor Grimblehawk never got around to that last year… or maybe he just wants to make sure we can cast a decent Shield Charm."

"No Shield Charms!" said Professor Prewett, and Remus' shoulders hunched around his ears. He'd been acknowledged again. That wasn't good.

"We'll be doing something different today," continued Professor Prewett, scribbling on the board. "Something most of you haven't heard of, I believe."

At the back of the room, Sirius snorted, clearly sceptical.

"Don't believe me?" Professor Prewett turned; his icy blue eyes landed on Sirius. "It's Sirius Black, isn't it?"

Sirius grunted.

"You sound awfully confident. Why don't you come here, give us a demonstration?"

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but James shoved him forward with a grin. With no other choice, Sirius threw his shoulders back defiantly and joined Professor Prewett at the front of the room.

"Alright," said Sirius. "What're we doing?"

"You tell me," said Professor Prewett lightly. "Seeing as you believe yourself to have already mastered the curriculum for today…"

Sirius gave the professor a disparaging look, clearly about to argue, but Remus caught his eye and shook his head a little. Don't do it, he thought. Just play along.

Sirius looked at Remus for a moment, considering. "Fine," he said at last, and he turned to the blackboard, his jaw set. "Let's see what you've written here… ah. Today we're doing… the Patronus Charm." He glanced at Professor Prewett, awaiting further direction.

The professor smiled broadly. "That we are. Go on, then, Black. Show us your best Patronus."

"I…" Sirius turned towards Remus, silently pleading for help.

Remus had never heard of the Patronus Charm before. He gave a tiny shrug of his shoulders, hoping Professor Prewett wouldn't notice.

Sirius sighed. "I don't know what a Patronus is. Sir."

"Is that so?" Professor Prewett's blue eyes gleamed. "I must say, I'm glad. It looks like I'll be able to teach you something, after all. Off you go, Black." He gave Sirius a small push, and Sirius stumbled towards the back of the room.

"Some help you are," Sirius muttered to Remus. Remus didn't reply; he didn't want to draw the professor's attention for a third time.

"Allow me to demonstrate," continued Professor Prewett, and he arced his wand through the air. "Expecto Patronum!"

A massive, winged creature burst from the tip of his wand. It nearly clipped Remus with its sinuous, silvery wings, and Remus ducked; though the creature seemed to be made of mist, there was something oddly substantial about it, and he didn't want to be concussed. It's an enormous bat, he realized as the etheral beast wheeled around the room. After they were all sufficiently awed, it returned to Professor Prewett, who raised a hand. As he stroked the bat on its ugly, upturned nose, the creature faded. Behind him, Remus heard a low whistle that could only have come from Sirius.

Professor Prewett looked pleased. "The Patronus Charm is notoriously difficult," he said. "Do not be ashamed if you struggle with it — there are plenty of adult wizards who are unable to cast a Patronus. Those who succeed, however, find that it is the single most effective counter to certain kinds of Dark magic. A corporeal Patronus can keep most Dark creatures at bay, and it is the only known defence against Dementors and Lethifolds."

"Poor Dementors," Peter said to Remus out of the corner of his mouth. "I'd be scared, too, if a gigantic bat attacked me."

"Ah," said Professor Prewett, who had apparently overheard. "That's the other trick to the Patronus Charm: the form it takes is unique to its caster. No two people have the same Patronus. Even identical twins have been known to cast wildly different forms."

"Oh, no," said Peter. He turned to Remus, crestfallen. "What're the chances mine is a rat?"

Professor Prewett rolled up his sleeves and tightened the purple scarf around his neck. "Ready to give it a go? The casting is deceptively simple: One need only think of a happy memory and say the words: Expecto Patronum!"

The room filled with chatter as the class tried their hand at the spell. "Expecto Patronum," said Remus, staring at his wand.

Nothing happened. That wasn't surprising; he hadn't even thought of a happy memory.

Luckily for him, he could easily remember the happiest moment of his life. He'd been in the grotto by the Black Lake, watching James and Peter transform into Animagi for the first time. The mere thought of it made his chest swell; he still could hardly believe they'd pulled off such advanced magic for him. They were the reason he no longer had to be alone when —

Ah.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," said Remus. "Only —" He looked around, making sure the professor was out of earshot. "I expect my Patronus will take the form of… you know."

"A werewolf?"

"Pete!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Peter cast a nervous glance towards Professor Prewett, who was coaching Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon. "That would be a bit on the nose, don't you think? I bet yours is a dog."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "A dog?"

"Yeah. A brown, friendly dog, like my aunt has. Or maybe a bear. Not a scary bear, though — a fluffy one that likes to laze about."

Remus smiled. "Not one for flattery, are you, Pete? I was hoping you'd say I'm a fierce Welsh Green, or maybe a Manticore…"

"Bet you five Galleons yours is a bear," said Peter firmly. He shook his wand, as though that would help the Patronus come out. "Expecto Patronum. Expecto — Expecto —"

By the end of the lesson, nobody was able to cast a full Patronus, though Lily had managed to produce a swirling silver cloud. Remus hadn't had any luck at all. If he was being honest, he was self-sabotaging a bit; there had been a moment where he had seen a wisp of silver mist emerge from his wand, and he'd promptly panicked, causing the wisp to vanish. He was terrified that he'd produce a Patronus in the form of a wolf, and everyone would learn his secret.

No, not a wolf — wolves weren't suspicious. A werewolf.

"Great lesson, wasn't it?" asked James after the bell had rung and they were packing up their things. "Think I saw a dragon come out of my wand at one point —"

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, and my Patronus was a unicorn."

"I swear! You were looking the other way, and then it went out the window —"

"I'm surprised you weren't able to cast one, Moony," said Sirius. "You're usually the first to get the hang of spells like that."

"Oh, well," said Remus, rubbing the back of his neck. "This one escaped me a bit."

"We've got all term to practice," said Sirius. "He's offering fifty House points to anyone who can produce a corporeal Patronus by the Christmas holidays… Shouldn't be too difficult, once we get the hang of it."

"Remus Lupin?"

Remus looked up; Professor Prewett was leaning against the desk at the front of the room, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"Yes?" said Remus cautiously.

"I was wondering if I could have a word."

Remus waved his friends on. Quiet settled over the classroom as the last of the seventh-year students filed out. Professor Prewett was looking at him expectantly, but Remus didn't say a word; he was comfortable with silence.

"I must say I'm surprised," said the professor after a moment.

"About what, sir?"

"Professor Dumbledore spoke highly of your aptitude in Defence. 'Remus is top of his class' were his exact words, in fact. I would have expected you to be the first to grasp the Patronus Charm."

"Oh," said Remus. "Well. It was more difficult than I expected it to be."

Professor Prewett eyed him shrewdly. "Is that so?"

Remus nodded, maintaining innocent eye contact with the professor. He was used to lying — in fact, he was good at it — and though he didn't like to lie to teachers, sometimes it couldn't be helped.

"I can give you some tips, if you like," said Professor Prewett.

"No, thank you," said Remus automatically. "I'm sure I'll be able to manage it with a bit more practise. I appreciate the offer, though."

Professor Prewett shrugged and waved his wand at the blackboard, which began to erase itself. "Suit yourself. But you wouldn't be the first to want to disguise your Patronus. I can show you a way to do that, if you're so inclined…"

He met Remus' eyes, and a chill ran down Remus' spine. Professor Prewett knew.

"I'll be fine, thanks," he managed, and he fled the classroom, clutching his books to his chest.

Even when his knees began to ache, he didn't slow his pace until he was limping up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. They had Transfiguration next, and Professor McGonagall would surely be irate that he had missed the first lesson of the term, but he didn't care. He could tell her that he'd been in the Hospital Wing — an easy lie, and one that wouldn't be questioned. What he needed right now was to be alone, because he needed to think.

None of the previous Defence professors had known his secret. Only Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey were privy to that information. And Remus was very careful to keep it that way. So how… and why…

Remus pushed open the door to the dormitory and froze. Sirius was leaning against the post of Peter's bed, as though he had been waiting for him.

"What did Professor Prewett want?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Remus marched past him and dumped his books on his bed, which was the only one neatly made. He turned to Sirius. "What are you doing here? We've got Transfiguration —"

Sirius pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket and waved it at Remus. "Saw you heading to Gryffindor Tower and got curious."

Right. The Map.

Remus fought to keep his voice level. "You were spying on me."

Sirius was unrepentant. "I was concerned."

"Good instincts," said Remus, throwing his bag onto the bed with more force than was strictly necessary. "you must have Seer blood in you, because to say I'm concerned after my chat with Prewett is an understatement."

"Is that so?" Sirius cocked his head. "What happened?"

"He knows, Padfoot. About me."

"What? You're certain?"

"I was surprised, too. But there's no question about it."

"Did he come right out with it?" Sirius imitated Professor Prewett's West Country twinge. "'By the way, Lupin, a little birdie told me you're a werewolf.' Like that?"

Remus sank onto his bed. "Not exactly. He hinted at it — strongly, mind you. Asked whether I was afraid of the form my Patronus might take."

Sirius let out a low whistle. "Shit. I thought the other professors weren't supposed to know. Only Dumbledore and McGonagall, isn't that what you told me?"

"And Madam Pomfrey."

"Of course. Pomfrey." Sirius' brow furrowed, like he was working on a particularly difficult Arithmancy equation. "You don't reckon Dumbledore told Prewett, do you? Or McGonagall?"

"Why would either of them do that?"

"Beats me." Sirius flung himself onto Remus' bed, narrowly missing Remus. "Well. If he holds the fact that you're a werewolf over your head, we'll kill him."

Remus tried to sound reproachful. "Padfoot."

"I will, at least." Sirius rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. He prodded Remus with his foot. "You know that, right? That I'll kill him if he tries to hurt you?"

Remus wished Sirius would stop touching him. It made him feel dizzy, like the full moon was about to rise. "That… won't be necessary. He was trying to help me, I think."

"Rubbish. Threatening students with their darkest secret isn't helping." Sirius placed his long legs across Remus' lap, one foot crossed atop the other.

That was more than a little distracting. "He… er," said Remus. "He said there are ways to conceal a Patronus. Offered to teach me."

"Really? Huh." Sirius began to jiggle one of his legs atop Remus' thigh. "So he's offering you private lessons?"

Remus couldn't focus on anything but the feel of Sirius' leg. He forced himself to breathe. "I wouldn't say that."

"Might not be so sinister after all, then." Sirius looked mischievous. "I'll be jealous if you take him up on the offer, you know."

"Why's that?"

"Don't play coy, Moony." Sirius' leg stopped jiggling. "If you start spending time with a good-looking bloke like him, you'll forget all about me. I'm supposed to be the only handsome pure-blood in your life, after all."

Remus pushed Sirius' thighs off his lap. "Padfoot. Don't."

"What? I'm only —"

"Joking? It isn't funny."

Sirius' grey eyes darkened as they fixed on him. "And if I wasn't joking?"

"I'm not — I'm not having this conversation with you." Remus stood up and began placing his books into his bag.

Sirius didn't move. "We've got to have it sometime."

"No. We don't." Remus slung his bag across his shoulder and turned towards the door. "Come on. We should catch the last bit of Transfiguration —"

Sirius sat up, quick as lightning. "I'd take you to Hogsmeade." His voice was low and urgent. "I would. And if you go to private lessons, I'll be jealous. I —"

"For God's sake, Padfoot, drop it!" Remus whirled around, and a strong wind rushed through the dormitory, rustling the canopies of the beds and scattering the papers on Peter's bedside table. Remus forced himself to calm down, and the wind died away, swirling around the bottom of his robes.

Sirius eyed him warily, but it was clear from the look on his face that he wasn't about to back down. "Why not? And I want you to give me an actual reason, Moony. If you're not interested in me, that's one thing, but I think you are. And I'm usually right, so —"

"Sirius. Stop it. Just stop."

Remus' tone of voice must have given Sirius pause, because he fell silent, though he continued to work his jaw as if ready to argue.

Remus closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately. Actually, that's not entirely true — I have a suspicion. But just because Dorcas Meadowes is dating Marlene, that doesn't mean you need to find yourself a boyfriend just to prove that you're — that you're equally as over her as she is over you."

Sirius opened his mouth, then shut it. He did that twice more before saying, "That's what you think this is about? Moony, Dorcas is… well, she's lovely, but I moved on, didn't I?"

"Did you? Because that's not how it looked over the summer."

"I — of course I am. After what I put her through with my family — I thought I'd never see her again!"

"Don't deny it. You were hoping to rekindle something with her. Weren't you?"

"I…" Sirius spluttered. "Alright, the thought crossed my mind, but I'd be mad not to think it! Not that it matters, seeing as Marlene got there first —"

Aha. Even though Remus had suspected as much, his stomach still dropped. "I thought so. That would be provocative, wouldn't it? Sirius Black, dating a Muggle. Right up your alley. But it didn't pan out — and then you got an idea for the next best thing. Not a Muggle this time, but a bloke, and a werewolf at that. I ought to have seen it coming."

"That — that isn't how it happened at all!"

Remus was unmoved. "I'm only saying, Padfoot. If you want to date someone for shock value, be my guest. But it won't be me."

"I wouldn't be — it's not for shock value…"

"I'm not going to be your little gay experiment." I would make you miserable. And you would break my heart. Remus couldn't say the words out loud. But judging from the pained look on Sirius' face, he could tell what Remus was thinking.

"I…" said Sirius, but he didn't seem to know what he wanted to say. "That's not. Not what I — you'd never be…"

"That's what it boils down to, though. You know that I'm…" Remus took a breath. "That I prefer men. And now you're curious. But it's not going to happen with me."

"Alright. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"You shouldn't have," agreed Remus. "There are plenty of other students who would love your attention. Go play with them, Sirius. Not me."

"I — I'm not playing with you."

"Then stop flirting with me, will you?"

Sirius looked crestfallen. "Alright. I'm sorry."

Remus knew he had won, but the victory was hollow. They'd been talking around the subject for years, and he'd hoped they'd never have to address it head-on. But of course Sirius could never leave things unsaid.

He checked his watch. Their Transfiguration lesson had ended three minutes ago. "Looks like we've missed Transfiguration," he said, trying to sound as if what they had just discussed was of no great importance. "If we hurry, though, we can still make it on time for Herbology." He cast a glance at Sirius. "Are you coming?"

After a moment's hesitation, Sirius nodded. "Yeah, alright." He scrambled off the bed, adjusting his robes. "Sorry again, Moony. Really." He gave Remus a small, hopeful smile. "We're good, yeah?"

No. My future is set in stone, and the weight of it would crush you. Loving you was the worst idea I ever had. Remus shoved the thought into the depths of his mind, then held the door open for Sirius. "We're good."

James loved being Head Boy.

Admittedly, it was only the second week of school, and he hadn't had to do many Head Boy duties yet. But he loved the way the younger students stared him in the corridors, and he loved that he could give and take House points (Sirius hated this, as James usually took points from him for a laugh).

The best part, though, was the Heads' dormitory. His new bedroom was nearly big as his room at home, and the common area was the perfect size for him and the Marauders to sprawl out in the evenings. Before long, he took to leaving the door that led to the boy's dormitories propped open, so that his mates could come and go as they pleased. Every morning, the house-elves left a breakfast tray on the table in the common area, and when he climbed into bed every evening, there was a hot water bottle beneath the blanket.

Sharing the space with Lily wasn't bad, either. If only his younger self could see him now, living with the girl he'd spent his adolescence obsessing over. Twelve-year-old James would have lost his mind. He was glad that he'd actually gotten to know her over the past few years; that made it easy to see her as the fully-realized person she was, with all her talent and humour and the occasional, still endearing, flaw. She was so different from the girl he'd placed on a pedestal for years. The real Lily was better in every way than the girl he'd invented in his mind, and he was determined not to ruin things with her.

That was why he would never cross a line with her again. She was lovely, of course, and she always had been, but being her friend was enough. She'd rejected his advances far too often for him to hope that they'd ever be anything more. He couldn't blame her for that; considering the amount of grief he had given her over the years, it was astonishing that she even deigned to speak to him.

All in all, things were going quite well. James had thought it might be strange, sharing a dormitory with a girl, but Lily rarely spent time in the common area, preferring to stay in her room. Even pretending to be her boyfriend was going well. He made a point of being seen with her every other day, usually at mealtimes, and so far, his mere presence kept Severus at bay.

On Wednesday morning of the following week, James emerged from his bedroom to see Lily sitting at the table in the common area, having breakfast and reading the newspaper. That was unusual; she always ate in the Great Hall.

"Good morning," she said, turning a page of the Daily Prophet.

"Morning," said James. "Mind if I join you?"

Lily took a bite of heavily-buttered toast. "Alright."

He sat across from her, feeling somewhat wary. It was the first time he'd seen her sitting in the common area. If she realized that she was doing something unusual, she gave no sign of it.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, helping himself to a crumpet.

She nodded and gestured to the crumpet he was eating. "These are quite good. I ought to have tried them sooner."

"Better late than never," said James, pouring a cup of tea. "Anything interesting in the news?"

"Yes, actually. There's been a —"

"Hang on," he said. "Is it depressing? Because if it is, it'll have to wait. I want to at least finish eating breakfast before I become properly depressed."

"It's not depressing," said Lily.

Remus had said the same thing last week, and had proceeded to read James an article about a group of unnamed wizards who had died while on holiday in Europe. Though the newspaper hadn't mentioned details, it had been easy enough to infer that they were Order members, which had put Sirius in a mood.

"Alright." James prepared to be depressed. "Go on, then."

Lily laid the paper in front of him. "Have you heard of someone called Bartemius Crouch?"

"Oh, yeah," said James, skimming the page. "Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, isn't he?"

"Apparently," said Lily. "He was at my trial, too."

James' head snapped up. "He was?"

Lily nodded. "You should have heard the way he was interrogating me. He'd practically convinced himself I was a Dark witch. I think he'd have been happy to send me to Azkaban."

"You're joking," said James, but Lily shook her head. "Merlin's balls. My father talks about Crouch from time to time — makes him sound like a miserable prick, to be honest. But that's absurd, even for him."

"If you think that's absurd…" said Lily, and she pointed to a section of the paper. "Take a look at this."

CROUCH AUTHORIZES USE OF UNFORGIVABLES, declared the headline. James read the article aloud. "'Head of Magical Law Enforcement Bartemius Crouch has permitted the Auror Department to use Unforgivable Curses when facing suspected followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Per Crouch, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is adopting a 'curse first, ask questions later' approach. These measures will ensure the Ministry gains the upper hand in the ongoing war between wizarding Britain and the forces of the Dark Lord…' wow…" James shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pushed the Prophet back to Lily. "That's insane."

"Isn't it?" she said. "I mean, it sounds nice, at first. Fewer Death Eaters in the world, and all that. But suppose the Aurors murder the wrong person? It's extreme, isn't it?"

"Definitely," he said. "After reading this, I'm surprised Crouch didn't chuck you in Azkaban. The madman wants to root out evil at all cost. Hopefully the Aurors have more sense than he does, though… People might turn against the Ministry if their loved ones end up wrongfully injured."

"Glad I won't have to face him again." Lily shuddered, then finished her cup of tea. "By the way. We've got our first meeting with the prefects this afternoon, did you realize?"

He hadn't, but he wasn't about to admit that to her. "Oh, yeah, of course," he said, rummaging in his bag for his timetable. "Been thinking about it for ages. Planning, you know." He unfolded the slightly crumpled parchment. Sure enough, 'monthly prefect meeting' was pencilled in just underneath Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon.

Lily was giving him a keen look. "You've been planning," she said sceptically.

"'Course. Can't go into my first meeting blind, can I?"

"That seems to be your general method of operating," she teased gently. "King of improvisation, aren't you?"

James tried to sound modest. "That would be Sirius. I'm a close second, though."

"Right." She stood up, Vanishing the crumbs of toast off her plate with a wave of her wand. "Well, I'm off to Arithmancy. I look forward to seeing your preparations this afternoon."

After Care of Magical Creatures, James sped to the staffroom on the ground floor, where the prefect meetings were held. He turned the handle, but the door was locked.

He swore. He didn't know the password. No matter, though; he was good at guessing them. And the staffroom would likely have a stuffy, boring password that would be a breeze to figure out.

"Er… 'Hogwarts Four?'" he guessed. Nothing happened.

He tried again. "'I love Dumbledore'? No? Alright, then… what about 'Beauxbatons can suck my —'"

The door swung open. Lily was standing on the other side, grinning. "Say that last one again?"

"You wish," said James, and she laughed. "What's the real password, anyway?"

"'Draco dormiens.'"

The school motto. That figured. "I would have gotten it eventually."

"Of course you would have."

"It's true!" He looked about the room, which was about as dull as a staffroom could be. There was a long table in the middle and a stack of extra chairs in the corner, presumably for the prefects to sit in. "So, er. What's the plan?"

Lily folded her arms, looking smug. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"You didn't prepare anything?"

She shrugged. "I didn't see the need. Since you've been 'planning for ages'. Haven't you?"

"Yeah," he said, "only we're supposed to be a team —"

"I'll lead next month's meeting, then. How's that sound?"

It sounded like James was about to make a fool of himself. But he couldn't very well back down. "Alright." He drew his wand and conjured a plush, crimson armchair.

Lily looked at it curiously. "What's that for?"

"So you can sit back and relax," he said. "I've got everything covered, after all."

With a grin, she flopped into the armchair. "Excellent. I'm looking forward to it."

At five minutes till, the prefects began to trickle in, and all were present by the time the James' watch struck six. Prefects, he thought disparagingly. They were so punctual.

He cleared his throat, and what little chatter there was died at once. All eyes turned to him, annoyingly attentive. Prefects.

"Erm," he said. "Hi. I'm James Potter, and this is Lily Evans." He gestured at Lily, who was perched demurely on the armchair, looking every inch like a proper Head Girl. "We'll be your sovereign overlords this year, and you will be our servants who do what we say."

That earned him a look from Lily. None of the prefects laughed, though Remus gave him a grimace that might have been an attempt at a smile.

"Right," said James, floundering. The Marauders always laughed at his jokes; he wasn't used to a tough crowd. "Er, first things first. Filch has banned Screaming Yo-Yos, Belch Powder, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs from the castle this year. So if you find any, bring them to me. I've always wanted a Screaming Yo-Yo," he added with a wink.

A few of the prefects frowned. Others looked confused, as if they weren't certain they were in the right place, after all.

"I'm only joking," said James, who hadn't been. That earned him a couple of smiles, but the prefects seemed more relieved than amused. "Next item on the agenda…" He looked to Lily for help, but she was purposefully not making eye contact with him. At least she was holding back a grin, though. She looked terribly attractive like that.

James realized that he had completely lost his train of thought. The prefects were still watching, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Erm," he said. There was no avoiding it; he would have to improvise. "The next thing is… bullying. Hogwarts is adopting a no-tolerance policy this year on bullying." Not true, but it sounded good. A couple of prefects nodded, which encouraged him. "So, er, if you see someone bullying another student, you're allowed to give detention and take points."

A Ravenclaw prefect with curly brown hair and green eyes raised his hand. "How many points?"

"At least fifty," said James on a whim. The curly-haired prefect raised his eyebrows, and James realized that only teachers were allowed to take more than five points at a time.

There was no taking back what he'd said, so he decided to double down. "It sounds harsh, but Dumbledore wants us to send a strong signal. We won't be tolerating any bullying this year, and — and especially not bullying towards half-bloods or Muggle-borns."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily smile.

Was there anything else he ought to talk about? He couldn't think of anything.

"Well, that's it." He made a show of dusting off his hands. "I declare this meeting adjourned."

To his surprise, nobody moved. The curly-haired Ravenclaw prefect raised his hand again.

"Yes?"

"Aren't we going to sign up for the patrol schedule?" asked the prefect.

"Ah," said James. "Right. That was my little test for you. And you passed! Good work."

Lily snorted. In the back, Remus was openly grinning. Even Sirius' scrawny little brother looked amused.

James Conjured a large piece of parchment. He wasn't quite sure what the usual format was, so he simply wrote 'Patrol Schedule' at the top and left the rest blank.

"Have at it," he said to the prefects, who had already queued up so neatly it was a little disturbing; nobody was jostling elbows or fighting to be first. "Slow down, everyone, no need to rush…" He chuckled a little. Somebody needed to laugh at his jokes, even if that someone was him.

After everyone else had left, James turned to Lily. "How did I do?"

"Well, that wasn't terrible," she said, rising from her seat. "And I quite enjoyed being able to put my feet up while you did all the heavy lifting."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he said. "I'm not bailing you out if you forget your lines during next month's meeting."

"As if I ever would." Her eyes were sparkling; he wasn't sure why she only looked at him like this when they were alone. "You did forget a few things, though."

"Rubbish."

The corner of her mouth lifted. "Would I lie to you?"

That was a good point. The Lily Evans he knew would never miss an opportunity to point out his mistakes. "Alright, then," said James, putting his arms behind his head. "What did I miss?"

"Professor McGonagall wanted us to talk about the limited number of Hogsmeade excursions this year," she said, looking over the patrol schedule on the table. "And you ought to have mentioned the increased Ministry presence in the castle, too."

James refused to be cowed. "Minnie should have told me if she wanted me to talk about Hogsmeade. And the Ministry guards are old news, they've been positioned here since Sally went missing last year."

"She did mention it," said Lily. "Twice, in fact."

He cocked his head. "Really?"

"Yeah. You were having a sausage-eating contest with Sirius though, so your attention might have been elsewhere."

That explained it. "Oh. Well, it's a good thing there's two of us. You can remember the things I forget."

"Something like that. I — oh. " Lily frowned at the patrol schedule.

"What's wrong?" James glanced at the parchment, but he had no idea what might have bothered her. "Is the format off? Sorry about that — didn't know what would be best, so I, er, left it blank. The prefects seemed to have done a decent job filling things in, though."

"That's not it." Lily pointed at one of the names on the parchment. "Remember Crouch, who we were talking about? He's got a son."

"A son?" James leaned forward, taking a better look at the patrol schedule. Bartemius Crouch, Junior had signed up to patrol with Edmund Avery. "Merlin's tits. You're right. Wonder if he's got a wand up his arse like his old man?"

"He was the Ravenclaw who kept asking you questions. I've never seen him before — he must be a fifth year, one of the new prefects." Lily chewed her lip. "I don't like that. What're the odds his father asks him to keep tabs on me?"

"Zero," said James confidently. "Now you're just being paranoid."

"Am I? You didn't hear what Crouch Senior had to say at the trial. If it had been up to him, I wouldn't have come back to Hogwarts."

"Yeah, but you did come back to Hogwarts, so he can shove that up the same place as his wand —"

"James!"

He shrugged. "I don't think there's anything sinister going on. Like father, like son, right? Crouch Junior probably loves enforcing the rules, just like his dear old dad. No wonder he got made a prefect."

Lily didn't look convinced.

"Enough worrying." James pulled open the door. "That was a successful first meeting if you ask me, and now we've got places to be. Come on."

"We do? Where?"

"I invited the Marauders and your friends to have dinner with us in the dormitory," said James with a grin. "The house-elves should be delivering the food now. If we hurry there might be some left… if Peter doesn't eat everything…"

A/N: AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist! This Jily relationship has been years in the making so I am throwing all my favourite tropes at it.

To those of you who guessed that the new prof was a Prewett, good work!

As a reminder, I am going to be posting new chapters every 2-3 weeks for a while. I have about 6 chapters left to write (roughly 30k words), and a slower update schedule will give me time to focus on finishing. Once I am finished, the updating pace will pick back up!

Thanks for reading!