That night after dinner, while Mary and Marlene were in the Common Room writing their Charms essays, Jen managed to pull me away from being my usual, helpful self, and sat me down in our dormitory to interrogate me.

"Alright, Lily," she began, standing some little ways from me, suspicion etched in everything from the lift of a single eyebrow to the timbre of her voice. "What's going on?"

I had two choices. I could just tell her the truth, and the Jen Inquisition would be over before it started. But then I'd have to admit that I wasn't a masterpiece flyer, that I wasn't a comical genius, or even a winged Wronski warrior (that last one had been Peter and Sirius's invention, to which I was quite partial).

Or I could just play dumb. Play dumb and pretend like I had planned it all: I had kept my amazing flying talent a secret from even my best mate just to pull off my one and only master prank. Hogwarts would remember me as a legend. I would be a legend.

Yep, that story sounds way better.

I frowned slightly, to try and convey slight confusion with a hint of nonchalance as I casually replied, "What do you mean?"

Jen rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me some credit, Lily! I'm your best friend! I know you hate flying because it's the only thing you are actually bad at, and I know that today you almost died, but by some freak coincidence everyone thought you were just mocking Nott, and I know that you prefer that version of reality to what was actually a near death experience!"

Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb…

"What do you mean?" I repeated, my lips forming a slight grimace as I realized I couldn't even convince myself of my sincerity.

Jen continued to stare at me, the fury in her face causing the lifted eyebrow to tremble. "Lily."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I insisted. "I'm a winged Wronski warrior. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but you're just going to have to live with it."

Play dumb, play dumb, you can talk yourself out of this one, just play dumb…

"You're being ridiculous! You and I both know that you can't fly! You were just cursing Dumbledore about it two minutes before you almost crashed to death!"

Lie, lie, lie!

"It was a ruse!" I lied, a smile coming to my face as this imagined history made its way through my mouth and into existence. "I was only pretending I was a bad flyer because I didn't want to intimidate anyone with my exceptional talent."

She scoffed and flipped her short brown hair over her shoulder. "Are you even listening to yourself right now? It's not like I'm going to blackmail you or anything, Lily; I'm your best friend," she said, her gaze softening as looked me square in the eye. "I just want to make sure you are okay."

I sighed, and looked at my fidgeting fingers in my lap.

Jen sat down next to me. As soon as I looked at her again, it was like a dam broke inside me, and I had to tell her everything.

So I did.

Afterwards, the only thing she could come up with was, "So now Bellatrix Black has threatened you with payback of some sort? Why are you not freaking out about this?"

"Two reasons: One, I'm Head Girl. They would have to be really stupid to try and mess with me. I can take away house points, assign detentions, and take away privileges. On the spot. And two, did I mention I was Head Girl, or... ?"

Jen was wide-eyed. "That's exactly why you should be freaking out, Lily! Slytherins don't play by the rules; they play by loopholes. Whatever they're planning, it won't be good."

"I suppose I should be grateful I don't have to spend the evening with Bellatrix Black in detention, then," I bit out sarcastically.

"Grateful? You should be on your hands and knees, pledging your lifelong devotion to Circe!" Jen exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. She was so dramatic.

"I should be pledging my devotion to Madame Hooch! She's the one who saw how badly this could be for me—she even offered to Obliviate the pitch!

Jen gasped. "Isn't that illegal?"

I shrugged. "We're minors under the care and protection of Hogwarts. They could Obliviate us for lesser reasons."

Jen squared her shoulders. "Unbelievable. I'm starting a petition to recognize the student body as autonomous and deserving protections—INCLUDING consent to such illicit charms!"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "I believe those protections are actually the rights of our parents and guardians, and therefore we have no autonomy."

"Well, even better, because I'm sure my parents are going to love hearing about this!" Jen exclaimed. She was already digging through her bag for some parchment and a quill. "I'm going to write to them this instant!" she announced, and took off to the Owlery.

Jen's parents were barristers of the Wizengamot, and her faith in the legal process was her solution to every problem she's encountered, not that anything has ever come of it. She'll probably end up following her parents' footsteps into the Wizengamot herself.

In the meantime, activist/revolutionary Lily Evans hardly got anywhere without best friend Jennifer Till checking to makes sure it was legal, which can be really annoying as far as leading revolutions goes.

This year, I was dead set on protesting the ridiculous physical education requirement. I mean, we lived in a CASTLE, and everything was MILES away from each other. Our physiques were in perfect order, having to run from the dungeons to the astronomy tower in the ten minutes between classes. I honestly didn't see the point of Operation Fire Dragon! It was cutting into my N.E.W.T. study time!

These were all points I had intended to bring up with our Headmaster in our Head meeting the first week of classes, but had failed to do so since I froze to the spot in shock and fear.

And Potter obviously was in favour of the idea, the smug git, with his flying prowess, and couldn't see the problems inherent in the process. For him, Operation Fire Dragon was just more time for he and his mates to bugger around and sneak dungbombs into the pockets of unsuspecting Slytherins. Or at least, that's what Narcissa Black would have you believe, but honestly, it's the least of my problems if her sister is still a threat.

I didn't have to spend detention with her tonight, thank the goddesses, but that didn't mean I wasn't on the receiving end of a few well-aimed glares and sneers from the Slytherin table at dinner.

I sighed heavily and made my way back down to the Common Room. Mary and Marlene were both still there, their Charms essays abandoned as they whispered and giggled to each other, clearly distracted. "Never fear, Lily Evans is here, come to save you from failing N.E.W.T.-level Charms, my darlings!" I announced, sitting across from them on a plush armchair by the fire.

Mary's cool blue gaze swivelled to mine and she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Lily, we can manage perfectly on our own."

"I've been gone the whole of an hour, and you two have yet to finish your essays! You should have been done by now," I pointed out.

Marlene shrugged, her curled bob dancing along her shoulders. "We're taking our time. The essays aren't due until next week, anyway."

"Suit yourself," I answered primly. "But when you get Potions analyses assigned tomorrow, and Arithmancy problems the next day, and Transfiguration on Friday, you'll be up to your ears with work and will hardly have any time to devote to Charms."

"Ugh, fine," conceded Mary. "Have it your way. But this is why you don't have a life, you know."

I gasped, totally offended. "I do too have a life!" I cried.

What did she take me for? An Inferius?

"Lily, when was the last time you just sat down and talked to us?" Mary asked.

I opened my mouth to reply—because, obviously, I was talking to them right now—but she cut me off.

"About something other than schoolwork?"

"Or Head duties," added Marlene. She raised an eyebrow conspiratorially and leaned forward. "The only thing I'm interested in right now is how cute our Head Boy looks when he's trying to be serious in front of the prefects just for the benefit of our Head Girl." Her lips curved into a wide smile over straight, white teeth and she burst into laughter.

Marlene McKinnon is always laughing. And when she laughs, she looks exactly like Donna Summer, who incidentally happens to be Marlene's idol. She frequently breaks out into Donna Summer songs, most often, "Love to Love You Baby," and does Donna's disco arms. It's quite the impeccable impression.

Donna Summer aside, it's almost impossible not to laugh when she laughs. Even when she's talking about something as ridiculous as Potter being cute.

"C'mon, Lily, let's have a good old-fashioned chat about non-school related things, and then we'll get back to our essays," coaxed Marlene.

She stared at me with large, laughing eyes, and I couldn't help but agree. "Okay! Ten minutes of unadulterated chatter, and then it's back to work!"

"Thank Merlin!" exclaimed Mary. She lowered her voice and leaned in. "Alright, I've been dying to ask you for ages—don't you think Remus and Sirius are always sitting just a little too close together?"

"We've been watching them for the past month," said Marlene. "Things have definitely escalated between them."

I thought I was known for my observational skills, but I'd clearly missed this! I turned in my chair to watch the aforementioned boys and noticed that, yes, they were rather snug on the loveseat in the corner of the room. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say the arm that Black had casually thrown over the back of the sofa was more than just a little casual.

"Interesting," I mused, viewing the pair. I turned back to the girls, and they were both watching me with curious expressions.

"Well?" asked Marlene.

"Well," I repeated, slowly thinking of a tactful answer.

I mean, firstly, it was no secret that Sirius Black was the biggest flirt to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He flirted with everyone—literally everyone: girls, boys, professors, ghosts—he's even known to have flirted with the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest.

I honestly thought he wasn't sure how to communicate without making it rude, but maybe he was just compensating for falling in love with one of his best mates, who happened to be a boy.

Secondly, Remus Lupin was so closed off that it was difficult to know anything about him except that according to his academic records, he was pretty clever, and preferred the quiet of the library to the gobstone matches of the courtyards.

Could they be in love? It was possible. But obviously, it wasn't anyone's place to out them if they didn't want to be outed. People still had a difficult time accepting Muggle-borns in this world; the idea of two boys in a relationship might be totally unheard of. At least, it was usually kept quiet in the Muggle world.

Except that Mary and Marlene, both from magical families, didn't seem to think it was a problem. So there might be more going on here than I knew what to make of, and I didn't want to create a problem where there wasn't one.

"Well," I said again, blinking up at them. "Whether they're a couple or not, they're definitely very comfortable with each other."

"Yeah, maybe too comfortable," said Mary in a low voice. "I'd just like to know if I've been wasting my time pining after Remus the last three years of my life."

Marlene twisted to face her, her expression one of pity. "I don't think he'd have to be in a relationship with Sirius Black to tell you it was a waste of your time, love."

Mary smacked her on the arm. "Harsh, Marlene!"

Marlene cracked a smile, the laugh blooming in her throat before she could stop it. "I'm sorry! But as your mate, I think it's best if I'm honest with you."

Mary rolled her eyes, sitting up and pushing her feathered blonde hair over her shoulders. "You could have the decency to spare my feelings," she muttered.

Marlene giggled, then turned her attention back to me. "So, exactly how cute does James look when he's in front of all the prefects?"

Here we go, the old joke. I'd stopped complaining about stupid Potter and his stupid seduction traps when I realized that Marlene was not-so-secretly supportive of Potter's goals regarding me, Lily Evans, to go out with him.

She would actually do recon and ask me bizarre questions about what I found attractive (a good sense of humor), and what my perfect first date was (a trip into Hogsmeade). Needless to say, after Potter had asked me in a thousand different, usually ostentatiously (read: horrifically) comedic ways to Hogsmeade, I figured out that it was all Marlene's fault.

I spent the better part of Easter fifth year ignoring her for it.

So now, since she doesn't take anything seriously and is always game for a laugh, she teases me about Potter whenever she can.

I thought about it for a moment, wondering if Potter was cute at all in front of the prefects. He usually just makes a few jokes before cutting to the chase and reminding everyone to sign up for rounds, or passing along whatever new information the Heads of Houses have come up with that week. He was as he always was: effortlessly charming, funny, and a natural leader.

I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat and said, "He is exactly 9% cute in front of the prefects, which is not 1% more or less cute than he is normally."

"An intriguing statistic," murmured a voice over my head.

I turned in my seat and felt a blush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks as I spied one, James Potter, hovering behind my armchair.

He and Marlene traded knowing looks.

Et tu, Brutus?

"I think I'd give myself top marks for cuteness," he said, making his way to the empty spot next to Marlene on the large, plump sofa she shared with Mary. "Wouldn't you say so, McKinnon?"

Marlene looked over at Potter with undisguised warmth. I could tell she genuinely liked the chap, but for the life of me, I couldn't say the same thing.

And if she agreed with him, I would have no choice but to introduce her to my other shoulder, which was icier than the first one.

However, she took one glance at my murderous glare and grinned. "I'll give you top marks for eavesdropping, mate," she replied with a hearty laugh.

Potter didn't blanch, he merely turned his hazel eyes on me. "So if I'm 9% cute, the other 91% of me must be—?"

He left the question open, and I'd be the antagonist in this tale if I said he was 91% insufferable, because truthfully, he wasn't 91% insufferable. Maybe like 25% insufferable, but 91% was honestly too much for any one person to carry out.

I cocked my head to the side in deliberation. "You're probably at least 17% athletic," I began, listing off the most neutral qualities I could think of.

Because I didn't hate him.

And I wasn't secretly in love with him, either.

Honestly, everyone needed to get a grip and stop trying to get us together! It just wasn't going to happen!

"So I'm nearly twice as athletic as I am cute," concluded a nonplussed Potter. He lounged into the seat cushion, a leg crossing over his knee in a casual pose. He seemed to be taking it all in stride as he was more entertained by my rubbish statistics than anything else. "Do go on."

What else was I supposed to say? What could I say? He was a bad influence?

But that hadn't been true for a while, now. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been made Head Boy.

He was always game for a laugh, just like Marlene, but that hardly seemed like a telling-off, and I'd rather not compliment him.

"You're definitely 34% mischievous," I added, finally finding the right word.

The corners of his lips twitched, but he remained otherwise unfazed by this.

"Ten percent of you is good with crowds, 5% of you is bad with authority, er—how much have I got left?"

I'd started to lose count!

"Thirty-five per cent, love," answered Mary, smirking widely.

Great Circe's ghost!

I was running out of adjectives! I was tired of this game already and it wasn't even over yet.

Potter was exhausting!

I cleared my throat nervously. "Right. So, let's see." I began to just rattle off generic descriptions as quickly as I could. "You're about 12% clever, 11% charming, and—and," I stammered, my cheeks beginning to warm.

Charming? I had called him charming?! SINCE WHEN?!

I was like a fountain of half-formed thoughts just flowing effortlessly out of my big fat mouth and into the world where everyone just believes what I say. I mean, honestly. Since when has Potter ever been charming?

Sometimes I wish I could wear a sign that would turn on when I'm just sputtering absolute malarkey. In this instance, it would have started flashing the following in bright, red and gold lettering:

DON'T BELIEVE ME. I KNOW NOT WHAT I SAY.

The worst part was that Potter was practically glowing at the compliment. I cursed myself for being so stupid—he was going to read into this and ruin whatever amity we'd fallen into as Head Boy and Girl. I really couldn't deal with that this year. He mustn't believe he has any hope with me. I could already see the hope growing around his head like a dizzying arrangement of optimistic tulips sprouting up through a thawing snow.

I needed to deflate his prospects at all costs!

Grasping for any kind of objective insult, my eyes went wide and I quickly blurted, "And 12% blind!"

He burst into surprised guffaws, his hand going to his stomach as he struggled to breathe through his laughter. He had a very deep and rolling laugh. The girls joined him, giggling and chortling.

I was definitely blushing at this point, and I couldn't understand why.

I mean, it wasn't that funny! I was clearly in a panic! My friends should be supporting me, and instead they were laughing at me. It was not a position to be envied, that's for sure.

I cleared my throat again, scrambling to get a handle on the situation and folded my hands primly in my lap. I turned to a giggling Mary and a snorting Marlene and waited for their sniggering to die down. "Girls, I believe it's time to get back to your essays."

They groaned, Marlene muttering "Killjoy" disdainfully under her breath.

"You'll thank me later," I insisted.

Mary pouted. "Yes, Mum," she said sarcastically.

Potter stared at this exchange, intrigued. "Are you doing the Charms essays that Flitwick assigned us this morning?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded as though it were very important and serious business. "Yes, Potter. It is very important and serious business."

He smirked, amused. "I can tell," he said evenly.

Oh, sod off! I wanted to say this, but I am a mature and civilized woman of the world, so I did not.

Mary and Marlene had slouched down onto the floor and over the coffee table to continue writing their essays, though judging by the lack of scribbling from their perfectly poised quills, I could tell they were distracted by the conversation between Potter and me.

"However," started Potter, and I could hear the smirk in his voice without looking up. "You do know that that essay isn't due for another two weeks, right?"

I scoffed. "It's due in a week, Potter!" I turned a stern glare to the girls on the floor. Mary had already slumped away from the table and was looking ready to stuff her parchment between the pages of her Charms textbook. "Don't even think about it, Mary."

She grumbled and scribbled something onto her parchment.

Potter was relentless. "I think you'll find, Evans, that you're wrong."

Oh my giddy Godric's pajamas. This boy. I was going to murder this boy.

"Potter, stop distracting them!" I snapped. "It doesn't matter when they're due; these two are completing their essays tonight, end of story. I will not be forced to stay up until two in the morning the night before they're due because they hadn't yet started them and they need my help. So if they want my help, it's happening now, on my time."

"Blimey, Evans," breathed Potter, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised in an inscrutable expression. "Remind me never to ask you for help."

"It's a perfectly reasonable stipulation!" I cried defensively. I mean, honestly. I can't be expected to deprive myself of sleep when I can tutor my friends in a timely manner. That meant they would adhere to my schedule this year. As it is, they're both going to need extra help with N.E.W.T.-level Charms, and Flitwick asked me specifically to tutor them.

He snorted. "Yeah, if you're a control-freak," he muttered.

Mary and Marlene cracked identical grins and Marlene not-so-subtly turned her choking laughter into a cough.

I pursed my lips in a hard line. I didn't need Potter judging me. It was none of his business, anyway. "Don't you have a broom cupboard to go blow up or something?" I asked, annoyed.

"Not til next Thursday," he answered jovially without skipping a beat.

Ugh, didn't he understand I was trying to get him to leave me alone? Jen had already distracted us long enough, and at this rate, we would be an entire day behind in our workload. Of course, that was something Potter never had to worry about. He was extraordinarily clever and didn't have to study as much as the rest of us. It came all too easily to him and that only soured my mood even more.

He had a stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face and I imagined he was enjoying this far too much. I was determined to sour his mood as much as he'd soured mine. Fair was fair, after all.

I tossed my hair behind my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, honestly, Potter. Grow up!"

That had struck a nerve. His lips came down in a pursed frown at the unexpected acid in my voice, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders seemed to tense. Slowly, he sat upright, his entire body all sharp angles against the plush sofa. He stared at me for a long while before finally sucking in his cheeks and letting out a slow breath of air that fogged up his glasses. He blinked a few times before they cleared up and then he smiled a smaller, dimmer smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"I think I'd better leave you to it, then." He wrung his hands and wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before getting up and sighing again. "Later, McKinnon, McDonald." He shot a small smile at me before heading behind me to where I imagined his friends had gathered.

"Finally," I said, and I felt like I could actually breathe again.

Marlene tutted. "That wasn't very nice of you, Lily."

Mary nodded her head. "I thought you were actually getting on, too."

"Oh, whatever, he'll get over it. Now Mary, what have you gone and written there?" I peered over her shoulder at the first sentence of the essay.

The Summoning Charm is a lot like the Force in the Star Wars films.

"Oh my Godric," I started, unnerved. "Firstly, you absolutely can not start your essay like that! Flitwick knows I'm tutoring you! And secondly, no, the Summoning Charm is not like the Force in Star Wars!"

"But the Jedis were able to Summon their lightsabers from across the room using the Force!" she argued.

"EXACTLY!" I said, as though that was supposed to explain everything.

"The Force is actually more like a spiritual energy that when harnessed properly, can allow you to do various things, telekinetic abilities—similar to some properties of the Summoning Charm—included." Mary and I looked blinkingly up at the long, pale face of a very matter-of-fact Remus Lupin.

"Right," I added, uncertainly. "So the energy is equivalent to magic. Magic gives us the ability to Summon things, but it is not telekinesis."

Remus grimaced. "Well, not exactly." And then Remus Lupin proceeded to talk to us for a good fifteen minutes about how the different ways to use the Force was more like the different ways to use magic—not about particular spells. It was the most I'd ever heard him say in all seven years of knowing him. And strangely, though perhaps not surprisingly, considering who his mates were, he was easy to talk to.

"Chewbacca definitely descends from the Tibetan Yetis," he said, agreeing with my earlier suggestion. "Though I could also see some Pogrebin ancestry, with all that following Han Solo around."

Mary and I laughed, though she a bit more heartily than I. "Remus, that's hilarious!" she exclaimed.

He smiled warmly at her, and then turned to me. "I apologize, Lily. I know you're in the middle of a tutoring session, but I heard Star Wars and had to come right over. I didn't realize you were fans."

"It's okay! Honestly, I think you've helped Mary understand Summoning Charms so much better."

"Yes!" Mary agreed, giggling. "So much better."

Poor girl. She couldn't turn off her crush even if she tried.

"Maybe you could tutor me again some time!" she added.

Well, she could definitely try a little harder, the traitor!

Remus, unaware of my gaping, betrayed expression, continued to smile warmly and kindly. "Perhaps," he allowed. "I'm not sure I have the temperament for teaching."

Mary beamed at him. "Of course you do!"

It went back and forth like that for some time, Remus attempting to throw her off the scent and Mary plunging in headfirst anyway. Eventually he caved, and they set an appointment for next Thursday. Apparently Mary was also struggling in Arithmancy.

Which was news to me—her actual TUTOR?!—as it was her best subject, but whatever.

Meanwhile, Marlene, who had been busy scratching away at her second roll of parchment during the entire Star Wars discussion, threw down her quill and in one swift movement jumped up on her feet, and yelled, "YES! I HAVE FINISHED! Take that, Flitwick!" and threw the couch cushion she'd been sitting on across the room at an anticipating Potter, who caught the cushion—how?—and began chanting, "Nana nana, nana nana, hey hey hey, goodbye!"

In a matter of moments, Black joined in and it was all a ridiculous display with Marlene doing her triumphant, Donna Summers disco arms from across the room until the entire Common Room had become one, loud cacophony of chanting voices. Mary had taken the opportunity to throw an arm around Remus's waist and join in on the swaying and chanting. Remus, for his part, was a good sport about it and let her.

After a few rounds of "Na na hey hey kiss him goodbye," some sixth years had thrown some wadded up bits of parchment at Potter and his friends and got them to shut up.

If I had known that was all it took, I would have invested in extra rolls of parchment years ago!

Black and Pettigrew began throwing the offending wads of parchment back at the whinging sixth years, though Potter managed to diffuse the inevitable parchment-wad match between the two groups before it got out of hand.

Remus glanced back at us and smiled, his eyes crinkling up into two small, brilliant slits. "I enjoyed talking very much. I hope we can all do it again soon!" he said cordially before taking his leave.

Mary sighed and slumped back down to the floor. "Oh, he's so dreamy. There's no way I'm finishing this essay tonight."

I sighed. Judging by Mary's revised first sentence—The Summoning Charm is not at all like the Force in the Muggle Star Wars film—I would have had a terrible headache if we'd tried to continue.

"Fine," I conceded. "But tomorrow during your free period, you're meeting me in the library to finish this thing."

Marlene grinned cockily at her misfortune.

"And I'll be going over your essay before Potions in the morning so you can revise it during your free period," I said pointedly.

Her grin slid from her face like a loose portrait off a wall.

Mary, still stunned and dreamy from her interaction with a definitely-not-interested Remus, merely smiled absently while rolling up her parchment and putting her books away.

"So you like Star Wars?" said a silky voice from behind me.

I jumped. "Potter! You have got to stop doing that!"

He smirked. "Are you more of a Luke fan or a Han Solo kind of girl?" he asked, settling precariously onto the arm of my chair.

I rolled my eyes. This was clearly a trap! "I'd take the Wookie any day," I deadpanned.

"Excellent! He's the bloke with the mad hair!" he replied brightly, ruffling his own head of hair suggestively.

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

I laughed really hard. Because he was trying. He was trying and it was so terrible. And it was so terrible it was actually funny.

I should have known then I was a goner, but I'm exceptionally stubborn. So this time when I told Potter to grow up, it was with a smile and a shake of the head, and he relaxed.