On Saturday evening, James and the Marauders were in the Head's dormitory, ostensibly working on a Transfiguration essay that was due on Monday. After approximately seven minutes of writing, however, Sirius turned into Padfoot and ripped up his parchment. That led to Peter turning into Wormtail and scurrying in circles around the room, so James turned into Prongs just for the laugh of it —

There was a sound like shattering glass, and something crunched under Prongs' hooves.

Remus, who had been looking at the Marauder's Map, glanced up. "I hope you know how to repair that window, Prongs."

James, as Prongs, huffed. Padfoot let out a series of barks that sounded an awful lot like laughter, then tried to tug the map out of Remus' hands.

"No," said Remus, pushing him away. "Bad dog, you know you're not to come near the map…"

Prongs took advantage of Remus' momentary distraction and grabbed the map.

Remus threw his hands in the air. "What're you going to do, eat it?"

The stag let out an amused whinny, and the map nearly slipped out of his mouth; his teeth were not meant to hold parchment, apparently.

Just then, the door that led to the girls' dormitories opened.

Remus was on his feet in an instant. He jabbed his wand at the door, and it slammed shut.

"Ouch!" cried a voice. Lily re-opened the door, rubbing her foot. "Bloody thing slammed shut on my —" She stared at the scene in front of her.

James wobbled and caught Remus' shoulder to keep from falling over; the transition from four legs to two was always awkward. "Alright, Lily?" His words came out rather muffled, and he realized he still had the map in his mouth.

"Oh, hello, Evans," said Sirius, who was sprawled on the floor. There was a crash as the sofa tipped over, revealing a crouching Peter; he had apparently been hiding under the sofa.

Lily's mouth was slightly ajar. "Are you high?"

"I wish," said Sirius.

James took a step towards her, then swore as pain shot through his foot; he had trodden on broken glass, no longer having hooves to protect him.

Lily gave him a disparaging look. "I'm not even going to ask what happened to the window."

"Great," he said, hopping on one leg and holding his injured foot. "Because it's a really boring story, honestly…"

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like "Boys," then disappeared into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Good night!" James called.

Her door cracked open. "That window had better be repaired by ten o'clock," she said. "I don't want to feel a draft as I'm trying to sleep."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll —"

She closed the door.

James ran his hands through his hair, then turned to his mates. "Tell me I don't look as stupid as I feel right now."

"Prongs," said Sirius, "you know I'd never lie to you."

Remus pointed his wand at Lily's bedroom. "Muffliato."

"Good call," said James. He hopped over to the armchair and sat down gingerly. "Mind repairing the window while you're at it, Moony?"

"I wasn't the one who broke it." Remus settled back at the table, the Marauders Map in his hands. "Besides, I'm on patrol."

"Staring at the Marauder's Map doesn't count as patrol," said James. "Five points from Gryffindor for the unparalleled display of laziness."

"Oh, now you care about the rules, do you?" said Remus. "Six points from Gryffindor for being a joyless prat."

"Seven points from Gryffindor for — for not fixing the window —"

Sirius snickered and pointed his wand at the broken window. "Reparo." At once, the shards of broken glass jumped off the ground and rearranged themselves inside the windowpane.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor," said James and Remus simultaneously, and they grinned at each other.

Peter was frowning at the door to Lily's bedroom. "Why didn't she give you a goodnight kiss?"

"Er," said James, "because that would be totally unnecessary?"

"Unnecessary?" repeated Sirius. "You're dating."

"If I was dating Lily Evans, I'd give her a goodnight kiss every day," sighed Peter.

"Oi!" said James. "No fantasizing about — about my girlfriend."

"You and Wondergirl have snogged, though, haven't you?" said Sirius.

"Er, obviously," said James, focusing his attention on healing his foot.

"I've never seen you two going at it," said Peter.

"Nor have I," said Remus.

"I have," said Sirius, "but that was during our Apparition exam last term. Haven't noticed so much as a peck since —"

"We peck!" said James defensively. "We do, er, all sorts of things. Physically."

There was a knowing look in Sirius' eyes. "Just like you and Parvana did all sorts of things? Physically?"

"Oh, sod off," said James. "Lily and I — we, you know, pencil it in. Busy lives, and all that."

Remus looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"It's alright if you're gay," said Peter. "None of us give a damn —"

"Would a gay person snog Lily Evans as much as I do?" said James. "No. They wouldn't. Quite the opposite, in fact —"

"You've snogged her once," said Sirius. "To be accurate, she snogged you."

"It's been more than that," said James. "Dozens of times, at least. Maybe hundreds."

"Prongs," said Remus, laughing gently. "You are a dreadful liar."

This was going to be a problem. James suspected that something would need to be done about the Marauders and their unfortunate curiosity.

The following morning, when Lily emerged from her bedroom, she found that James was already awake. He sat at the table in the common space, finishing a slice of toast. "We've got a problem," he said, pouring her a cup of tea.

She tied her hair up, then took a seat across from him at the table. "Which is?"

"My mates."

She stirred sugar into her tea. "I've always thought they were a problem. Glad to see you agree."

"No, I mean — I don't think they believe in us."

"What do you mean?"

"Our 'relationship'." James made quotes in the air with his fingers. "They think we're… on the rocks, or something."

"Why on earth would they think that? We eat lunch together, and I always laugh at your jokes, even the bad ones." She narrowed her eyes. "Are you not selling our relationship to them? Because I'm doing an excellent job of pretending we're dating. Everyone's bought it, even Marlene and Mary, so if you're not pulling your weight…"

"I am pulling my weight!" he said, sounding offended. "It's just that my mates — er."

Lily traced the rim of her teacup with a finger. "Out with it, Potter."

There was a long pause as James clearly tried to think of a way around their conversation. At last, the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. "Theythinkweoughttakissmore."

"Pardon?"

"They, er. Think we ought to, you know. Kiss more."

Lily froze, her teacup halfway to her lips.

"No," she said. "Absolutely not."

"Agreed," he said hurriedly. "I knew you'd hate the idea. I only wanted to let you know — well, that we might not be pulling off our 'relationship' as well as we thought we were."

"There's more to a relationship than snogging."

"Of course there is," he said. "Only…"

"Yes?"

James shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, we ought to take things a step further, shouldn't we? Don't get me wrong — I'm not suggesting we snog in public or anything, that would be a disaster — but maybe it's time that we, I dunno, hold hands or something."

Lily's mouth was suddenly dry, and she took a sip of tea to avoid having to answer him. She hated that she was already imagining how his hand would feel in hers. The mere thought of it made her stomach clench with an awful sort of elation. It was horrible having butterflies over James Potter, of all people. She hadn't even fantasized about kissing him; she had just imagined holding hands.

Refusing to ever touch him was the smartest course of action — or the safest one for her heart, at least. But if their act wasn't convincing, then something needed to be done. "Holding hands might work," she admitted.

James seemed to relax now that she was considering his proposal. "Yeah. If we're seen taking a walk on the grounds and holding hands, that should settle everyone's mind, shouldn't it?"

She was already picturing it as he spoke. She didn't like how urgently she wanted to know if his palms were calloused.

"Alright," she said. And because she was nothing if not masochistic, she added, "maybe you could even, erm, give me a peck on the cheek afterwards, when we part ways in the Entrance Hall. If you're comfortable with that, of course."

"Oh," said James, and she swore his cheeks darkened. He ran a hand through his hair. "Er, yeah, that's a good idea. Yeah."

Why did he look nearly as uncomfortable as she felt? She decided to steer the conversation into safer waters.

"When should we do this?" she asked matter-of-factly, pulling out her timetable. "I promised Mary I'd help her with McGonagall's essay on animal conjuration today, and tomorrow will be jam-packed, even for a Monday, so… Tuesday, after our Potions lesson?"

James shook his head. "I've got Quidditch practice."

"Wednesday, then," she said. "We have a free period in the afternoon."

"That works." He brightened. "I've got an idea, actually."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Don't worry about it," he said, which did nothing to soothe her. "I just thought of a way to ensure that half of Hogwarts sees our exhibition, that's all. That should dispel any rumours about us that might have sprung up."

"It's — We are not putting on an exhibition —"

"Gotta go," he said, springing from his seat and shoving the remainder of his toast into his mouth. "The Marauders and I have Muggle Studies, we're watching a film on a project-tor…"

"Projector," corrected Lily. "And you need to stop calling yourselves that."

But he had already bounded out the door that led to the boys' dormitories. As soon as he was gone, she slouched in her chair, crossed her arms, and let out a deep breath.

"It's just a walk," she said aloud. "It doesn't mean anything."

But she wanted it to mean something. That was the entire problem.

To her surprise, her eyes filled with tears.

She put her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. "I don't know how much longer I can do this," she said through her fingers.

James clearly had no issue with pretending. But it wasn't pretending to her, and to be quite honest —

If she was going to hold his hand for the first time, she wanted to do it for real. Not as part of a scheme to keep Severus away, damn him.

"Damn him," she said, because just thinking the words wasn't enough. She wiped her eyes, looking at the ceiling. None of this would be happening if Sev only knew how to respect her boundaries. Maybe she and James could have courted each other for real.

Well. That wouldn't have changed anything, anyway. It was obvious that James no longer thought of her romantically. He treated her like a roommate.

I might as well be another Marauder, she thought, and she tried to muster up some additional scorn about that stupid nickname, but her heart wasn't in it.

Wednesday came before Lily got a chance to ask James how he planned to draw 'half of Hogwarts' outside the castle. If she hadn't known better, she might have thought he was avoiding her, but he wasn't nearly subtle enough for that. He'd been genuinely busy, it appeared — the newest recruits on the Gryffindor Quidditch team must have needed a lot of training. Or maybe he always practised Quidditch this much, and she'd never noticed.

The bell rang, signalling the end of their Potions lesson. As Lily cleaned her brass scales and returned them to her bag, she sensed someone standing behind her. She turned; James was looking expectantly at her.

"Yes?" she said, hoping she sounded convincingly bewildered.

He ran not one hand, but two, through his hopelessly curly hair. "D'you, er, wanna go for a walk? With me?"

His voice was far louder than it needed to be. He really is a terrible actor, she thought. "Alright," she said graciously.

At the back of the room, Severus had paused halfway through Vanishing the contents of his cauldron and was staring at them. Lily pretended she couldn't see him; she extended her hand, inviting James to take hold of it.

He looked at her hand for a moment, as though uncertain what to do next. Lily's cheeks began to hurt from the strain of smiling.

"Right," he said at last. "Off we go, then." And he grabbed her hand as though she were a small child and pulled her from the room.

Lily didn't need to look back at Severus to know that he was glaring.

"James," she said once they were alone. He was still towing her down the corridor, which was hardly romantic; she thought he might pull her arm from its socket.

He glanced back at her. "Yeah?"

Criticizing his hand-holding technique might hurt his feelings, so she chose her words carefully. "Why don't we try it like this, instead?" She stepped forward, so that they were standing side-by-side, and manipulated his hand so that his fingers were laced through hers. Her heartbeat quickened at the way his hand fit with hers; warm, reassuring, nearly twice the size of her own. And he did have callouses.

"Ah," said James, looking at their intertwined hands. He appeared lost for words, but after a moment he shook himself and grinned at her. "That is better, isn't it? Thanks."

"Of course," she said as they began to walk down the dungeon corridor. "Where are we off to, anyway?" As if she didn't already know.

"I thought we'd take a stroll around the lake."

"That sounds lovely," she said. They emerged from the dungeons, and she caught sight of a gaggle of third-year Hufflepuffs sprinting across the Entrance Hall. "No running in the castle!" she said, snapping her fingers at them.

The Hufflepuffs glanced at her and marginally slowed their pace, though they broke into a sprint again as soon as they reached the large oak doors that led onto the grounds.

Lily shook her head. "Does their excitement have anything to do with your little distraction?"

James looked proud. "They must have heard about the Giant Squid."

"Don't tell me you've done something awful to that poor creature," she said. "It's on the Ministry's endangered list, you know, there's only a handful in all of Britain —"

"Awful? Hardly," said James. "I only suggested to Sirius that he teach it tricks."

He led her down to the lake, his rough hand confidently gripping hers. A small crowd had gathered on the bank of the lake; the third-year Hufflepuffs who had rushed past Lily and James in the Entrance Hall were now standing on their tiptoes at the back of the crowd, craning their necks for a glimpse of the lake. Hovering high above the water was a dark-haired figure on a broomstick, a bucket dangling off the end of his broom.

"Bathsheba! Jump!" called Sirius from his broomstick. He pulled a pair of fish out of the bucket and dangled them above the water.

Nothing happened.

"Not much of an animal trainer, is he?" remarked Lily.

Then the water's placid surface began to shimmer, and the Giant Squid burst from the lake, arcing through the air. At the height of its leap, one large tentacle reached for Sirius, who dropped the fish he was holding. The tentacle curled slowly, almost lazily, around the fish, and the squid sank back into the depths of the lake.

The crowd on the bank cheered. Beside Lily, James whistled. He dropped her hand and began to clap appreciatively.

"Impressive, isn't it?" he asked her.

Lily couldn't keep herself from smiling. "If you and your mates would put an ounce of your brilliance towards anything other than fucking around…"

"Fucking around is what we're best at," said James proudly. The Giant Squid raised a dozen of its tentacles above the water, and Sirius wove between them, to the delight of the crowd.

"Come on," said James, and Lily tensed as he took her by the hand again. This second time went much better than the first; he slid his fingers effortlessly into hers, as if he'd done it hundreds of times.

Don't get excited, she reminded herself firmly. We're only pretending.

They strolled around the perimeter, watching Sirius put the Giant Squid through its paces: he had apparently taught it to come when called, roll over, and even play dead. This last trick lost a bit of its lustre, however, when Hagrid barreled to the edge of the lake and threw himself in, beside himself at the creature's supposed death.

"Hagrid, it's alright!" yelled Sirius, waving his arms. "Bathsheba's not really dead, look…"

Lily snorted. She met James' eyes, who looked similarly amused. He squeezed her hand, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. She was seized with the urge to say something, anything, to prolong the moment, but her mind was suddenly blank.

The castle bells began to toll, breaking whatever spell he had on her. "Shall we head back?" she asked.

"Probably," said James. "Unless you feel like skiving off Transfiguration…"

"After all the work I did on that animal conjuration essay? You're mad."

"Good point," said James. "Shame, though; I could do this all day."

Lily wasn't sure what he meant by that, and she didn't trust herself to read into it. To avoid having to respond, she looked across the grounds, where Remus and Peter were pulling a waterlogged Hagrid out of the lake.

"Wait," said James once they had reached the Entrance Hall. Students streamed around them, chattering excitedly about the show Sirius had put on.

Lily turned. "What?"

"This is where we'll be parting ways, I believe."

"But we've got Transfiguration —"

James smiled, looking slightly rueful. "I promised the Marauders I'd help them put Bathsheba down for its afternoon nap."

"Its… nap?"

"It likes to be sung to," he said, as though that was sufficient explanation. "I'll catch you later — nice walking with you, Lily."

He tugged on her hand, just hard enough to pull her slightly closer, and brushed his lips across her cheek.

Lily's heart thrummed as he slipped out the great oak doors of the Entrance Hall. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she was well aware that people were staring. A nearby pair of Ravenclaws giggled, whispering to each other.

She hoped they found James' little display convincing. That was the whole point, after all. As gentle as that kiss had been, as tender as his lips had felt against her cheek, it certainly hadn't been borne out of any real affection. No matter how much she wished otherwise, he was just holding up his end of the bargain.

Did he even know what he was doing to her?

Later that week, Severus was slinking through the dungeons when his way was suddenly blocked by an enormous silver stag.

He tried to go around it, but the stag lowered its antlers in a way that could only be interpreted as threatening, even for an ethereal being.

"What is the meaning of this?" he snapped, drawing his wand.

To his surprise, the stag actually replied.

"We need to talk."

Severus groaned. The voice coming from the stag's mouth was unmistakable; it belonged to none other than James Potter.

"I wasn't aware that Patronuses could speak," he said.

The stag ignored him. "Meet me at the top of the Astronomy tower. Midnight tonight."

"Are you out of your mind?" he said. "I am not meeting you alone at the Astronomy tower like — like a couple of star-crossed lovers —" James would probably take the opportunity to murder him, then toss him over the parapet, if their previous encounters were anything to go by.

"See you then," said the stag, uncaring. Perhaps it could only say what it had been told.

"No, you won't," said Severus, but the stag had already dissipated into silver mist, its message delivered.

He drew his wand, though he wasn't quite sure what to do with it once he had it out. Despite his general magical prowess, he couldn't yet cast a Patronus. He'd tried, of course; earlier in the term, he'd spent days practising, hoping to impress the new Defence teacher, but the charm had eluded him.

That was before he'd figured out that Professor Prewett was insufferable. The new professor hadn't even had the decency to act surprised that Severus was struggling with the spell, which had subsequently ruined Severus' motivation to master it. Professor Prewett probably thought that all Slytherins were too evil for the Patronus Charm — as if a spell could care about the purity of its caster's heart. Ridiculous, really.

In the dungeon corridor, Severus forced himself to think of a happy memory. The moment he realized Mulciber had been expelled would do nicely.

"Expecto Patronum."

He might as well have spoken a string of gibberish; his wand remained inert in his hand.

Severus swore, though he hadn't really expected anything better. Even if he could cast a Patronus, he had no idea how to make one talk. There had been nothing about making a Patronus speak in all the books he'd read on them. He half-suspected that the speech thing was a Potter invention, which in itself was infuriating. Of course Potter would improve upon the famously-difficult-to-master Patronus Charm.

Gnashing his teeth, he turned on his heel and stalked to the Owlery. He had a very irate letter to send.

Potter,

I am sorry to report that I have declined your pony's invitation. Hopefully this doesn't come as a surprise, even to an idiot such as yourself — we both know I would never voluntarily spend time alone with the likes of you. Kindly do us all a favour and drown yourself in the Black Lake.

Respectfully,

Severus Snape

As soon as Severus pushed open the door to his dormitory that evening, something jerked horribly around his navel, and he was pulled upside-down into the air.

He scrambled to draw his wand as he dangled there, the blood rushing to his head. "Using my own spell against me?" he snarled, and he sent a jet of red light through the dormitory at random.

James Potter stepped around Severus' four-poster bed, looking maddeningly unruffled. "Expelliarmus," he said, sounding bored, and Severus' wand was pulled from his grasp.

Severus' eyes darted around the darkened dormitory, hoping one of his housemates would emerge from the shadows and come to his aid. But no — he and James were completely alone.

"What do you want," Severus spat. As if he didn't already know. James and Sirius had cursed that unfortunate first-year Slytherin, and now they were after him: their oldest, most favourite target. "If you've come to curse me, then get it over with, you —"

"Relax, Snivellus," said James as Severus twisted uselessly in the air. "Nobody's cursing anyone tonight."

"Give me back my wand, and we'll see about that."

"You're pleasant as always," said James. "No, I don't think I will. Not till we talk, at least."

"I am not talking to you."

"Is that right? What're you doing now, then?"

Severus glared at him. "I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual," said James coolly. "I'll make this quick then. I just need your word that you won't repeat what you did to poor Owen Stickley."

Severus stopped struggling. "Stickley?"

"Don't play stupid," said James. "You can't pull it off."

"I didn't do anything to Stickley. You did."

"Me?" James laughed incredulously.

"Of course you did! That's what this is about, isn't it? You and Black decided to have a bit of fun with him, but you went too far, as always, and now you're here to pin your despicable deeds on me. Well, it won't work. Torture me all you want, but I will not be framed by a half-wit like you."

James' jaw dropped. "You're mental."

"I'm right, and you know it."

"Right? Own Stickley was cut to ribbons! Only one of us knows a spell like that, and it's not me." To prove his point, James pulled down the neck of his robe, exposing the long, thin scar across his clavicle.

Severus sneered, which was difficult to do while upside-down. "There's no need to pretend with me. You found a spell that, to the untrained eye, looks vaguely like Sectumsempra, and you nearly killed that first-year student with it. Admit it."

"I…" James looked at a loss for words. "You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

"Dumbledore might think you're some noble, perfect Head Boy, but you and I both know the truth. You love torturing Slytherins, you always have. That doesn't change just because you've got a badge."

James sank onto Severus' bed as if he owned it. He looked strangely perplexed. "Alright, Snape," he said at last. "I'm only going to say this once, so I hope those massive ears of yours are listening. I didn't hurt Owen Stickley."

"Then who did? Helga Hufflepuff? If the shoe fits, Potter…"

"You did!" exclaimed James. "Obviously, it was you!"

"That," said Severus coldly, "is utter fantasy."

"Is it? You've been slinking around for years with your Death Eater pals, crossing the line when you think nobody's looking. This is only your latest stunt, and you're lucky Owen's not dead, but I won't let this happen again. I won't. If you can't reign yourself in, I'm going to have you expelled. I will not let you wander the castle trying to murder half-bloods."

Only James Potter could be so wrong and so arrogant about it. "Jumping to conclusions, as always," said Severus, though the bite to his voice was tempered by the fact that he was still upside-down in the air. "Can't say I'm surprised; logic has never been your strong suit. Did it not occur to you that you lack any proof whatsoever that I was involved?"

"Proof?" said James. "Who needs proof when it's obvious that it was you?"

"I expect the Headmaster will need a bit more substance than your gut feelings if he is going to have me expelled."

James ran a hand angrily through his hair. "Fine. Give me proof, then."

Severus blinked. "What?"

"If you're as innocent as you say, then give me some proof."

Severus had always known James was an imbecile, but this was a new low, even for him. "I hate to break it to you, Potter, but seeing as you are the one making these accusations against me, the burden of proof rests on your shoulders. Not mine."

James' shoulders slumped, but only for a moment. "I've got it," he said, brightening. He pulled out Severus' wand and placed it atop the bed, then pointed his own wand at it. "Priori incantatem."

The Wand-Memory Charm, Severus realized. He was suddenly very glad that he hadn't used any of his nastier inventions lately. He hadn't jinxed anyone since last June, and had barely used any magic over the summer holidays; all James would get from his wand were an assortment of Hogwarts-sanctioned charms.

Severus watched, upside-down by the door, as echoes of previously-cast spells rose from the tip of his wand. There was the Gemino Curse, which they'd been practising in Charms, as well as several spells that McGonagall had assigned as homework. Interspersed with these were echoes of his own voice, uselessly chanting "Expecto Patronum".

After a few minutes of this, James turned to Severus, his brow furrowed. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Where's that Semper spell you used on Owen?"

"Sectumsempra," corrected Severus with a sneer. "How many times do I have to repeat myself, Potter? I didn't curse Stickley."

"Rubbish," said James. "The wand just hasn't gone far enough back yet."

"Are you always this incapable of changing your mind when confronted with new evidence? Hard as it may be to believe, I'm innocent. I would appreciate if you'd let me down, by the way." Being upside-down for so long was making his head pound.

"And I'd appreciate if you washed that greasy hair of yours once in a while. But we can't always get what we want, can we?"

Severus snarled and lashed out, grasping useless fistfuls of air, nowhere near close enough to reach James. "Say that one more time, you coward."

"Gladly," said James. "I'd appreciate if you —"

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rose from Severus' wand, and Severus grew cold as ice.

"Aha!" James leapt up and jabbed an accusing finger at the wand. "That's Owen Stickley, isn't it? I knew it —"

"No," muttered Severus, but the shrieks from his wand drowned out his voice.

"No! Sev, NO! How could you!"

From the tip of his wand rose a dark, familiar figure. A smoky, translucent version of James Potter hung in the air between Severus and the real James. Black ichor poured from wounds on the conjured James' chest; he stared blankly down, then toppled over, vanishing in a haze of smoke.

Lily's screams still hung in the air around them.

"That —" said James, looking alarmed. "That was —"

"That was you, yes," said Severus sardonically. "I expect you recognized yourself; you spend enough time staring at your reflection in the mirror, after all…"

"No," said James, shaking his head. "That voice — the girl who was screaming... that was Lily?"

Severus gritted his teeth. "Obviously." Admitting that was more painful than he'd expected; he felt like several daggers had slipped between his ribs, making it difficult to breathe.

James looked stunned. "She was that upset… about me?"

The self-centredness was remarkable, even for James Potter. Heaven forbid the universe not revolve around him for a single instant.

"She was upset about me," Severus corrected. He tried to sound as condescending as possible, though it was difficult to get the upper hand when he was still upside-down in mid-air. "She was upset that I… that I crossed a line and hurt someone. That it was you who I hurt was secondary. Barely a factor."

James didn't respond for a moment. Then he gave Severus a look he'd never seen before — not from James Potter, at least. It wasn't loathing or disgust that creased his brow; it was pity.

"What did Lily ever see in you?" asked James. He sounded genuinely baffled.

Severus refused to let him see how much that stung. "She's your girlfriend, isn't she? Ask her yourself."

James' shoulders drew together briefly, then relaxed. "Nah," he said, sounding nonchalant. "We don't talk about stuff like that. Too busy shagging, you know."

How dare he. Severus' core tightened with fury. "Do not speak about her that way. As if she's your… your plaything, a mere physical diversion, when she deserves…"

"Don't tell me she deserves you," said James, sounding bored. He stretched, then ambled towards the door to the dormitory. "Guess you were telling the truth after all about Owen Stickley, huh? That's odd. I could have sworn it was you."

"Add it to the list of things you're mistaken about," snapped Severus. "Should be quite a long one by now, given that it's you we're talking about…"

James strolled out of the dormitory, leaving Severus in the air and Severus' wand on his bed, some fifteen feet away.

"Get back here, Potter," snarled Severus, though of course James didn't obey. He twisted uselessly in the air, trying to see where James had gone, but James had already vanished up the glistening, mossy stone stairs that led to the Slytherin common room. "At least give me my wand! My WAND, Potter!"

Avery found him two hours later and promptly ran to get Regulus.

"What happened?" asked Regulus as soon as he'd lifted the charm and gotten Severus upright.

Severus' head was throbbing from spending so much time upside-down. There was a special sort of indignity that came from being strung upside-down for hours by your own spell. He would have to come up with a countercharm for Levicorpus that didn't require a wand.

"Hogwart's Head Boy hasn't changed, despite his shiny new badge," said Severus, rubbing his temples.

"James Potter did this?" Regulus' eyes widened. "Did he try to attack you, too?"

"Attack? Hardly."

Regulus looked relieved. "Good. You ought to be more careful from now on — after what Potter did to Stickley, I wouldn't put it past him to do even worse to us."

"About that," said Severus. "Potter is likely innocent."

"Innocent? But how…?"

"He thought I was the one who cursed Stickley," said Severus. "He'd convinced himself of it, the half-wit. Couldn't be persuaded otherwise… at least, not until he cast Priori incantatem on my wand."

Regulus looked thoughtful. "He could have been pretending. Maybe he was hoping to find something incriminating and frame you for what he did to Stickley."

"The same thought occurred to me," admitted Severus. "But I doubt it. Potter is not intelligent enough to be a convincing actor. He truly believed that I cursed him."

"Strange." Regulus was holding himself very still, thinking hard.

"What's strange?" asked Avery.

"Nothing," said Regulus. "Fetch my Gobstones set, would you, Edmund? We can play a few rounds before bed."

Avery scurried out of the dormitory, and Regulus turned to Severus, his expression solemn. "I spoke to Rudolph Brand and Emma Vanity today," he said.

"And?"

Regulus gave a little shake of his head. "They had nothing to do with what happened to Stickley."

"You're certain of this?"

Regulus' grey eyes were devoid of all emotion as they met Severus'. "Legilimency is not as difficult as Bella makes it seem," he said. "I've spent all week inside our housemates' heads, and they're as clueless as we are. Nobody in Slytherin had a hand in cursing Stickley."

"But she was attacked in our common room," said Severus. "I thought only Slytherins and the Head Boy and Girl know the password. Unless the other prefects are privy to that information?"

"They aren't," said Regulus. "Puzzling, isn't it?"

Severus nodded "It worries me."

He hated admitting he was worried — such a sign of weakness — but there was no denying that the situation was troubling. They were no closer to catching who was responsible than when they'd started. The culprit could strike again, and Severus would have no way of stopping it.