September 21st, 1975

Lily leaned against the stone wall, hands clasped in her lap. Really, it was going to be fine. All the other houses had had their turn by now - it was just the timing of the school year and how the Gryffindors were rostered that made them the last to do it (though really, she would've thought the Gryffindors would've gone first, given house of the brave and all). They'd had their trial runs with the seventh and sixth year prefects, respectively, the last two weeks, but this was the first time they'd be on their own.

Students flooded out of the Great Hall. She'd ducked out five minutes early, as their patrol technically started right on the bell of 7:10, which had just sounded. Remus had shown up to dinner just before the Headmaster began to speak, looking worse for wear. Disappointment curdled in her stomach. Knowing his mates, he was probably the victim of a particularly bad hangover. Idiots, she thought, and Remus to go along with it.

"Alright, Lily?" She turned her head to see Marcus McLaggen emerging from the crush, his shiny red prefect badge pinned to his chest neatly. Everything about him was neat and tidy, from his combed hair and clean-shaven chin and the perfect fluidity of his robes. He'd accompanied them last week, alongside Laura Vickers. "Do you need me to cover for him?"
Lily bit her lip. "He was at dinner. He should be coming."
"I'll wait with you," Marcus said. "Just in case. Can't have you doing your first proper patrol alone, can we?"
"Alright," Lily said. He came up beside her, leaning against the wall. "Thanks, Marcus."
"Don't mention it." Lily smiled at him. He was taller than her, with a crop of dark hair much nicer than Potter's or Black's. He was quite handsome, honestly.

She knitted her fingers together, training her eyes back on the crowds. Remus stood nearly a head above most and he was a full foot taller than her. He should've stuck out like a lighthouse on a dark sea. "Sometimes I feel like they were a little limited in the available choice of prefects."
"Oh?"
"I think Remus and Peter are the only Gryffindor boys in my year that haven't been threatened with suspension," Lily said. "And Peter's nice, and he seems to do pretty well in class, but I don't think he could stand up to a flea." She paused for a moment. "Remus can't stand up to anyone he cares about, but I think he could give a flea a good telling-off provided it had no loved ones and no tragic past." Marcus looked at her, and then chuckled.
"Is it possible to have no loved ones and no tragic past?" Marcus asked. "How would somebody have no loved ones if they've never done anything wrong?" Lily shrugged, shaking her head.
"I don't know. Asexual reproduction?" she joked.
"They'd still need one parent," Marcus said. "And to not love each other, they would've had to have some sort of falling out, which doesn't make sense, because they're basically the exact same."
"Yes, well, opposites attract and all that," Lily said, waving her hand. "Maybe they were too similar."
"But even if they hated each other, they'd still love each other," Marcus said. "I mean, once you share blood - you just love each other, don't you? My siblings frustrate me to no end, and they've said a great many times that they hate me, but I know that they love me. Everyone's loved by someone. Even fleas."

Lily paused, and her mind wandered to Petunia. She hadn't even come to see Lily off, even though she lived not half an hour away from the station. She'd been working, which had been - fine, whatever. But she hadn't even come to dinner with them the night before. She took a deep breath.
"How is Tiberius?" she asked. "Did he end up going to UML?"
"He did, yes," Marcus said. "He got offers from Oslo and Munster too, but chose to stay closer to home. He might do an exchange later, though."
"We miss him in the Slug Club," she said. "It's quite...noticeable that he's gone."
"I imagine," Marcus nodded. "I'm noticing it too. No big brother to berate me - it's just me and Livia now."
"Professor Slughorn invited you to join, didn't he?" Lily asked. "You should've joined. It's not all listening to him prattle on, Dirk Cresswell's a real laugh! He's teaching himself Gobbledegook, and at first I thought he was having me on - I mean, Gobbledegook? Really?" It had sounded like pure nonsense, and it hadn't been until he'd bought his textbooks as proof that she'd believed him - after checking they weren't just enchanted for a joke.

Marcus' smile faltered. "I'm not one for clubs and such, my older brothers are more inclined that way. I feel like the club is mainly aimed at those looking to join the Ministry."
"That's not true," Lily said, turning to look at him. "I -"

"I'm sorry," Remus cut in. Dark circles rounded beneath his eyes, and his prefect badge was pinned to his chest upside-down. "I got caught up." Lily snuck a glance around his shoulder, frowning at his three distractions as they headed for the Grand Staircase. She shrugged at him.
"I'll be off then," Marcus said. "Good luck, you two. Don't split up. Send another student if you need me, or any of us." He caught Lily's eye and nodded at her. She gave him a nod back, and watched as he left.

"Lily?"
"Oh - yep?" She tore her eyes away from his retreating figure to Remus. He looked like shit, in all honesty. "Are you alright?" she asked, voice softening. Even if it was the result of being a dumbass, she still didn't want him to be actually ill.
"I'll be fine, thank you," Remus said quietly. The last of the students trickled out of the hall. "Again, I apologise for being late."
"You can apologise all you like while we do our rounds if it'll make you feel better," she said. "But for what it's worth, it's okay. I thought we might start by doing a loop of the grounds? It'll be colder later on, and there's not as many valid reasons to be wandering around out there this time of day." She'd come up with that during dinner.
"Sounds good," Remus said, and she grinned.

They circled the grounds under the autumn moonlight. "It looks like a full moon," Lily said, staring upwards. In Cokeworth, the stars hid their faces more often than not, behind clouds or smoke or the hum of Manchester lights. At Hogwarts, the stars seemed to really twinkle, and their light wasn't dimmed by factories and smog. She sucked in her breath, throwing her arms out wide and spinning in a circle.
"It's not," Remus said sharply. Lily drew her eyes away from the moon. "That was last night." Okay, jeez, she thought, and stopped her moon-gazing reverie, as mild as it had been.

They didn't come across much else outside, and the night was still fairly warm, considering it was September. A light shone in one of the greenhouses; Professor Sprout, they figured, and kept on. They passed the Gamekeeper's hut and skirted the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Lily did her best to ignore the strange low croaks gnawing at her eardrums, but she and Remus exchanged a look. By the time they reached the Black Lake, they'd struck up a conversation about the work they'd been set in Charms, which continued even as the both of them lost their breath a little climbing the hills to cross the bridge.

"So far, so good, hey?" Lily said, starting to relax in spite of the pain in her calves. Remus nodded, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You know," she added, as they slipped down a narrow corridor by the Clock Tower, "I was kind of hoping we'd run into something to break up. I don't know. I just - I feel like I haven't really done anything as prefect? Apart from sending the younger ones to bed and reminding people to quiet down?" She looked back at him, having to glance over her shoulder as he'd slowed his pace.
"I know what you mean," he said quietly.

Much of the next hour was spent making polite chit-chat with portraits and trying not to double-back on themselves. They were somewhat successful, though they passed the corridor to the Hospital Wing twice.

"Hullo, Lily," Dirk Cresswell said cheerfully, emerging from the library. "Lupin."
"Working hard?" she asked, shooting him a playful smile. He glanced down at the large book in his hands, and looked back up at her.
"Working out, more like," he said. "I tell you, it's bloody heavy."
"Do I get to take a point for that?" she chuckled, nudging Lupin. His eyes widened, and he swallowed. "I just really want to take a point for something," she admitted gleefully, turning back to Dirk.
"Can't you give me a point?" he asked. "For studying or something?"
"No give," she said. "Only take."
"'Only take'," Dirk repeated, pulling a ridiculous questioning face. It was the full thing - one eyebrow raised, lips pursed so much it looked like he was going for a kiss, nose scrunched up. "I'll remember that come next meeting."
"Oh, do," she joked. "Enjoy your book."
"Oh, I will," he sighed, shaking his head.

She and Remus kept along, maybe a little too slowly - but hey, it seemed like a quiet night. "I was only joking to him, you know," she said. "I wouldn't take a point for nothing."
"I know you wouldn't," Remus said. "You're not a Slytherin." His lips twisted in what might have been a smile. Lily hummed. Righto, of course. Had to be a twat about houses, just like his mates. What was it with the magic-raised and their preconceptions about where somebody slept? Imagine their outrage if they ever realised that in the muggle world, your house was just about your surname. In fairness, half of them treated the Hogwarts houses like that was all that mattered. She quickened her pace, knowing full well that Remus probably wouldn't keep up, in the state he was in. She wondered if he would've been nicer to Sev if he wore red rather than green.

"Have you taken any points yet?" she asked, sounding perfectly cheerful. "I'll sign them off for you, you know. I'd be happy to." He hadn't. She'd glanced at the records, and besides, they were encouraged to get their year level partner to sign off on their point awarding and taking unless another prefect was also witness to the event. It was something to do with backing each other up, and trust.
"No," he said quietly.
"I heard there are some awful bullies from Gryffindor making life hell for a couple of others," she said, tone light and fluffy. Without saying anymore, she turned down the corridor that led to the Armoury. She heard the quick change of Remus' feet. "We'll have to keep an eye out."

Remus didn't say anything.

Lily's teeth grazed her lip, and she continued her quick pace. If he'd been drunk last night, as a prefect, then it was what he deserved. Unless -

Shit.
Fuck.

"Did you go and see your mum last night?" she blurted out, stopping where she stood. She looked back at him. He looked so thin and gaunt, like he'd lived in a broom cupboard and not a castle where he was fed three big meals a day.
"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. If not for the fact that they were alone, she wouldn't've heard him at all.

Fuck. She wasn't usually a heartless bitch, really.

"I see." He was catching up now. "I - if you don't mind my asking, how was she?" Lily felt a bit queasy. Fuck.
"It's alright," Remus said. Silence. "She was a bit better than last time."
Lily pinched the end of her nose. "That's - good. It's good that you got to go see her."
"Yes."
"And sorry for being snappy," she added, steeling herself to look him in the eye. He just looked exhausted. Lily'd never travelled much by magic, but it seemed to take a hell of a toll on him. Or maybe it was just that his mum was - well, she didn't know for sure, but after so many years of illness, it was likely -

She just couldn't imagine her mum dying. And dying, not just being dead, but wasting away, year by year by year. She didn't know how Remus could stand it.

"And I'm sorry about your mum," she said. "I - know you've got your mates, but if you ever need...Well, we're prefects now. So. Sticking together and all that."

"It's alright," he said quietly. They walked further in silence. And then, so quietly that the beats of her heart nearly drowned it out: "Thank you."

October 6th, 1975

Dorcas scooped up the tarot cards and stacked them neatly in a pile before returning them to Professor Nicholl's desk.
"You were alright today?" Professor Nicholl asked suddenly, head snapping up. "Alone?" Dorcas nodded, smiling politely.
"Yes," she said. "I was able to practice my readings of the cards, and I made a few more notes on different interpretations - these cards seem to read slightly differently to me than the Ryder-Waite deck." She'd known that, of course - each deck would have a different meaning in its cards - but she hadn't expected the difference to be as big as it was. With new artwork came new interpretations. There was grass beneath the Fool's feet where it had not been in the previous deck, and the Emperor had no body at all, more concept than person.

"Very good," Professor Nicholl said. "Remember to account for the historical contexts of both decks, and how that may change their reading."
"I will," Dorcas said.
"And now, tell me, Dorcas," she continued. "Have you anything after this?" Dorcas shook her head.
"No, we have free afternoons," she said, a question on her lips. Why?
"Ah, perfect. If you could stay back after class then - please. Thank you." Someone behind her was tapping their foot, and Dorcas nodded and ducked out of the line of students returning their cards. Her brows were knotted as she returned to her table.

Her heart was beating a little faster in her neck, and her face felt very warm all of a sudden. I'm not in trouble, she told herself, packing her bag. I've done nothing wrong. She seemed happy with me. But maybe 'seemed' was the operative word. She huffed as she stuffed the books into her bag. They were refusing to fit properly. She pushed harder. There'd been enough room before class! With a great deal of pushing and tugging, she got the books in, and slid the strap through the buckle, closing her bag. Now she just had to wait for everyone to be dismissed, and then go up and talk to Professor Nicholl privately. Great. Fantastic.

Her brain rattled. What could it be about? She'd done all her homework, and put effort into it too, not just blurted out whatever thoughts came to her mind - unlike some. Surely she wasn't in trouble. Had she stacked the cards too carelessly? Had another professor asked Professor Nicholl to talk to her on their behalf? Dorcas gripped the back of her chair tightly. She did her best to pay attention in all her classes, even History of Magic, which really was interesting if you got past Professor Binns. Okay, so she wasn't brilliant at Herbology, but she didn't do badly, she was passing. And she liked Professor Sprout - and had thought Professor Sprout liked her. Oh, Merlin's sake. She could feel her heart banging like a drum. Even the anticipation of a few minutes was enough to be killer. Why couldn't they have just spoken about it then and there?

It was probably a good thing she was generally such a stickler for the rules. Aside from that, she was a prime candidate to end up with an addiction to calming draughts.

The last few minutes - if it was even two - seemed to drag on forever. Dorcas turned over every loose stone in her mind. What had she done? She wiped her palms on the front of her robes. Her shoulders tightened. Her back was going to ache tonight, she could already tell. Deep breaths. In, in, hold - hold it - out, out, out now. Her lungs felt like they were going to burst. She'd never been any good at breathing. It was a bit pathetic.

Finally, finally, the class was dismissed, and the other students rushed out as soon as they could, crowding around the trap door. Dorcas forced herself to walk slowly over to Professor Nicholl's desk. When she got there, she realised she'd probably just lowered herself to a jog from a sprint, but nevertheless. It seemed silly that she'd had to go and kill a few minutes just to return and talk again. But she wasn't a professor. If she had been - well, she would've done a lot of things differently.

"Is everything alright?" she blurted out, legs numb. Professor Nicholl raised her eyebrows, and then nodded, exhaling a laugh. Dorcas' shoulders only relaxed slightly. If everything was really alright, she wouldn't have asked to talk to you after class, would she?

"Well, with you, at least," Professor Nicholl said. Dorcas froze. What? "You seem to be friends with Mary Macdonald - or at least, you partner her often. Has she been feeling ill lately?" Dorcas blinked. Oh. It made sense now. Mary had been embarrassed enough about her fainting at the start of the lesson. It didn't need to be dragged out by loudly discussing it in front of the whole class.

"I -" Dorcas hesitated. She really only worked with Mary in Divination, sometimes in Astronomy and rarely in Charms or Transfiguration. "She hasn't said so," Dorcas said. "She seemed maybe a little pale, a little thinner. Madam Pomfrey will figure it out, won't she?"

"She's a very talented witch, Madam Pomfrey. But Mary is muggle-born. Sometimes magic doesn't work as well with muggle illnesses." That made no sense. Nearly all muggle illnesses could be cured by a spell or potion of some sort. Wizards could heal broken bones overnight - but Dorcas had heard of poor muggle children having to wait months for use of their limb.

"Magic can cure any muggle disease," Dorcas said, though there was unease in her voice. Couldn't they? She'd always been told that they could - but why would Professor Nicholl say that?

"Yes," Professor Nicholl said, waving a hand. "The ones they know of." Dorcas started to speak. "Anyhow, just you keep an eye on her now. Or if you don't care to, let her friends know what happened, please."

"I will," Dorcas said, her heart starting to return to its usual pace. Of course it would be about Mary. She didn't need to jump three feet into conclusions whenever a teacher wished to speak with her. "If that's all, Professor, thank you for the lesson -"

"Oh? No, it isn't. I'll get you a chair." Professor Nicholl waved her wand. "Accio." A chair from one of the closer tables sped towards them, pulling up just before the seat hit the back of Dorcas' legs. She sat down quickly. Her heart was pounding once more, breaths short. Maybe there had been reason to panic. Now she was glad that she had. It was better to pre-emptively panic and be expecting something bad to happen than to think optimistically and be disappointed and thrust into the unknown.

Or, that was what she told herself.

"Thank you," Dorcas said. She couldn't feel her toes. She dropped her gaze down to them, as if staring might make them work again.

"You aren't in trouble," Professor Nicholl said. Dorcas nodded. Wasn't that just code for, 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed'? But what was disappointing her? "I've got an offer for you."

An offer? Maybe she'd be allowed to be like Hagrid. Be the groundskeeper, still live at Hogwarts. Watch her classmates graduate as she followed him around and - swept, or something. Oh, she was awful at agricultural spells! If they even let her keep her wand. Maybe she'd blacked out and done something so awful she'd have to be summoned in front of the Wizengamot. Why had nobody told her about it? Maybe nobody knew, except for Professor Nicholl, who had seen her doing it. Or maybe she could read minds.

"Slow down," Professor Nicholl said. Dorcas looked up, blinking. "But you're right." She sucked in her breath.

"I didn't mean it! I didn't know! I - I don't know, I must've blacked out, I'll be happy to be the groundskeeper! Hagrid's not even that bad!" Dorcas blurted out, her voice rising. Professor Nicholl's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. I knew it, I'm the greatest disappointment Hogwarts has ever seen, she thought.

"I can read minds," Professor Nicholl said.

"Oh." And then Dorcas thought, well, obviously. It wouldn't have made sense for her to say 'you're right' when Dorcas hadn't said anything otherwise. And then it all seemed to hit her, that odd feeling at the front of her forehead and the fact that she had a professor who could know what she was thinking. "I - is that legal?" If so, why did the Ministry bother with Veritaserum at all?

"It's called Legilimency," Professor Nicholl said. "It's a rare talent - usually studied by the most senior masters of Divination. It's legal, but some do frown upon it. It can be condemned as 'invasive'." Dorcas' teeth skimmed her top lip. There was a gentle nudge somewhere in her mind, and she shuddered. It was so strange. Her brows furrowed deeply, her muscles tensing. She clenched her jaw. It didn't make the feeling go away. She didn't want to ask Professor Nicholl to stop - it would be rude, wouldn't it? Maybe trying to resist was rude too. But in fairness, her attempt was doing nothing at all, so maybe her professor didn't even realise. Except she could read minds, so she surely did.

"Learning to resist is easier than learning to delve into another's mind," Professor Nicholl said. Dorcas swallowed.

"Okay," she said. Professor Nicholl smiled, and clasped her hands together on the desk. Dorcas eyed her.

"Okay," Professor Nicholl said. "Look, Dorcas - you're the most promising Divination student I've seen. You take this subject seriously - for which I am immensely thankful - when a lot of others do not. I've spoken to Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, who both tell me that you're hard-working and responsible. As if I couldn't tell from the prefect badge," she laughed. Dorcas gave her a weak smile in return. "I expect you keep up with the news?"

"Yes," Dorcas said. "I think we all ought to, given - everything that's happening. I think most do."

"Yes," Professor Nicholl agreed. She lowered her voice, and leaned forwards slightly. "You're aware they believe it will escalate?"

A lump formed behind the little butterfly gland in her neck. The Prophet had never stated that outright - but anyone could tell. In the short time they'd been at school, new legislation had already passed, with wand checks mandatory for patrons attending large Quidditch matches and concerts and such. It was unprecedented! The murmurs from some members of the more...politically influential families indicated that even the most powerful benefactors had been against it, and yet it had passed into law. That certainly suggested it was a necessary measure. Especially given that the Ministry seemed to...well, perhaps extend residents' freedoms until the last possible moment.

"I believe that," Dorcas said.

"Yes. Well - I am of the opinion that in times like these, we must take every opportunity to be prepared."

"Prepared?" Dorcas echoed. She was hardly an opponent of preparation - but in this case, for what? They were hardly going to send Hogwarts students out to combat the would-be dark lords running around. The Ministry was filled with trained Hit Wizards and the MLE and even Aurors.

"The bottom line," Professor Nicholl continued, "is that I would like to offer you lessons in Occlumency. I believe you have the natural aptitude required to learn it, and the work ethic and perseverance needed to master it. You can say no, or you can take your time to think; it won't at all impact your grades. I see potential in you, and I would like to help you harvest it - that's all."

Dorcas took a breath. Ignoring whatever tangential point Professor Nicholl had been trying to get across, this was a great opportunity. Even if it didn't contribute to her grades, it'd have to round out her education. And you didn't just say no when professors offered private lessons. And, besides - it was sort of cool. Getting to learn something that others didn't, getting to delve into a branch of magic she'd never even known existed.

"Thank you, Professor Nicholl," she said. "I'll take them, please."