A/N: Look at her, posting another chapter after only a month! What kind of person have I turned into?

Thank you so so much for your guys' amazing response to chapter 13, and thank you for even after a year, sticking with me and continuing to favourite and review! Your support does not go unnoticed!

I want to thank ABBA + the cast and crew of Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again because without them I most certainly would not have made it through this chapter, which is twice as long as the usual chapters! 6k words of jily brilliance, guys! I really hope you enjoy this one, and as you may or may not know, chapter 15 will be the last one.

It may not be up as quickly as this one was, but I'm hoping I can finish it before school starts back in full, so while I'm shooting for mid-september at the latest, please don't hurt me if I'm unable to post it until then.

Onto the story!

Disclaimer: I own exactly zero of these characters, I'm simply borrowing them from JK. Pls don't sue me.


Chapter Fourteen

Or

My Love, My Life


(T-minus: four days)

It was Easter break at last and, as final exams were fast approaching, most of the upperclassmen had chosen to stay in the castle during the holidays. Hogwarts tended to be much emptier during Christmas break but not many students usually went home for Easter.

April was a windy month, interspersed with frequent outbreaks of pelting rain. It was colder than was usual for spring and, though there were sometimes sunny intervals, this particular April was starting to be known for the occasional thunderstorm.

At the present time, most of the students were gathered in the Great Hall, since it had barely gone nine in the morning. It was a Tuesday, and the grounds outside were coated in thick fog — the Whomping Willow was only just visible.

"Hey," started Marlene, "did you guys know that Christine Diggory is pregnant?"

"Who's that?" Mary asked, taking a rather large swig of her pumpkin juice.

"Oh, isn't she that bird from D.M.L.E.?" Lizzy interjected from the opposite side of the table, perched next to Lily.

"Yeah, that's the one!"

Lily was currently helping herself to a second serving of eggs and toast when Peter Pettigrew, who was sitting a couple of seats to her right, pointed out, "Where's Dumbledore going?"

She looked over to the High Table and, true to Peter's word, there went the Headmaster, although none of the other teachers seemed to notice his sudden withdrawal.

"Did it suddenly get really chilly or is it just me?" inquired Mary, who was now shivering.

"It's definitely not just you," Remus replied. "Here, have some of this."

He poured Mary some hot tea and she gratefully cupped it in her hands. "Thanks, Remus."

"It's nothing." He shrugged. "Sirius?"

"On it, mate."

As Remus nodded, Sirius, and James, who Lily had only just noticed was uncharacteristically –by recent standards—present at the Gryffindor table, rose and left the Great Hall, chatting amongst themselves.

Lily had heard from Peter that he'd been called to Dumbledore's office and she had to admit, she'd felt scared for James. Lily had been prepared to march up to the Headmaster's Tower and give him a piece of her mind but, by the time she'd finished perfecting her speech in her head, James had climbed right through the portrait hole and, after informing her that everything was okay and that she needn't have worried, he went back to his dormitory - and the rest, as they say, was history.

At least he wasn't behaving recklessly any more, just a little more sombrely than she would have liked. Lily only hoped that, with time, he'd go back to the James Potter that she knew and loved. Because she did - love him, that is. It was kind of funny really, how what had once been an intense dislike, had turned into a tentative friendship, and then into an exceedingly strong one. Suddenly, James was one of Lily's best friends, one of the few people who she felt like she could always confide in and, even though there was always an understandably large elephant in the room, as time went by, it had started to grow increasingly smaller by the day. What started as a seemingly innocuous crush quickly developed into much more and, as Lily got to know James more and more, so her affection for him transformed into something a lot deeper, which was why now it really hurt to be so casually tossed aside. She was certain her friends knew about her feelings, though maybe not about their gravity. Well, Marlene must do for sure, and maybe Remus too, but no one had ever discussed it and so it simply sat on the backburner. Lily Evans loved James Potter. It was so painfully obvious that it didn't even hold up as a conversation topic.

Lily hadn't properly spoken to James since he'd dropped the bomb back in March, and though she had, of course, wished him a happy birthday, save for a few cordial hello's and pass the ketchup, please's, James was still acting a little closed off towards her. Lily supposed that to some extent she understood but, blimey, it wasn't really fair of him to blame her for what had happened, was it? Not at all.

Because of the cold, the rest of the group soon retreated to the Gryffindor common room, where they bumped into Sirius. James was — of course, Lily scoffed — mysteriously absent.

"Dumbledore and Prongs are at the Entrance Gates," Sirius said with a grimace. "Unfortunately, they're not the only ones."

Peter, who was closest to the portrait hole, quickly turned around and led the group back to the ground floor of the castle.

"How did we miss this?" Marlene asked, her wand already at the ready. "We were literally just there."

Sirius shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess the all-knowing-Dumbledore just knew to keep things quiet."

Just before they reached the Front Hall, Remus picked up on some rustling and, following it, came face to face with Professor McGonagall. Although her face did not easily betray emotion, her eyes seemed a little glassier than usual and her lips, usually pressed into a trademark straight line, were turned down at the corners.

"Thank you, Mr. Black," the teacher said. "You can run along, I'm sure Mr. Potter would appreciate you being there."

Sirius simply breathed a quick thank you, Professor, dashing off to the gates.

Professor McGonagall nodded and, turning back to the group, continued, "I need every single one of you to remain calm. We're dealing with an extremely difficult situation and it would be best if you didn't cause a scene."

"Of course, Professor," said Lily, "but could you please tell us what's wrong exactly?"

"Yes, well… I think it is only fair that I give you a chance to prepare yourselves," she replied, sparing a sympathetic glance Elizabeth's way.

Lizzy's face visibly paled. For Professor McGonagall of all people to be walking on eggshells around them, something must have been seriously wrong and, if recent events were anything to go by, it would most certainly have something to do with Susan's recent disappearance.

McGonagall took a deep breath.

"Susan Adams is dead."


All Lily could say was that none of it felt real.

After Professor McGonagall broke the news, it didn't take a long time for Dumbledore, flanked by Sirius and James, to show up. Susan's body was nowhere to be seen but Lily supposed that the Headmaster had taken care of that already. As he arrived, Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Lizzy's shoulder and together the two of them walked, whispering their way through an otherwise empty corridor.

Because it was the holidays, there were no classes to distract them. They trudged to the library and for the first time ever, really, sat in complete silence. Madame Pince, of course, being oblivious to the whole ordeal, was most pleased by the group's newfound appreciation for quiet. The Charms section had never, in Lily's humble opinion, felt so downright depressing.

A full two hours before supper began, the entirety of the student body was summoned to the Great Hall and, seemingly remembering something, James Potter broke off and headed to the Owlery.

The Great Hall was nearly full by the time he came back. The students chatted amongst themselves and, observing them, Lily could only envy her classmate's obliviousness. It was with a heavy heart that Lily acknowledged that it would be ripped away from them soon enough. Since she'd departed with Dumbledore that morning, Lizzy still hadn't returned.

After a moment's quiet, the Headmaster finally rose from his high-backed chair. His silver beard looked lacklustre and he was missing the characteristic glint in his eyes. Even the glass on his half-moon shaped spectacles looked dull.

"There's a lot that I'd like to say to you this evening," Dumbledore began, sending the students into an incessant fit of whispering and theorising. He waited for the crowd to quiet down once more.

"During breakfast, something set off the protective wards that surround the school." Immediately the volume of the whispering grew tenfold. "I informed the Heads of House of this fact and then quickly made my way to the entrance of the castle in the hope that I could quickly resolve any problem. However," he continued, "once I arrived at the main gates, there was no imminent threat, only what I believe to have been a message. Certainly a poorly timed and executed one, yes, but a message nonetheless."

Gingerly, Lily spared a glance James Potter's way. Rather than miserable, as she'd expected him to, he looked resigned. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn't been there that morning, and Lily wondered just how much of that had to do with whatever it had been that he'd gone to do in the Owlery.

"It appears our worst fears have been confirmed," Dumbledore said in a commanding voice. "Susan Adams was indeed taken by Death Eaters during the attack on Hogsmeade, not that there was any doubt that she hadn't left of her own accord. Unfortunately, it seems as though she was no longer of use to Voldemort or his followers, for she was delivered to our very doorstep this morning."

Panicked murmurs filled the hall. By now, everyone was fixed on Dumbledore, looks of horror spreading across the crowd of faces. At the Slytherin table, Lily noticed Evan Rosier and Elliot Goyle snickering about something. As usual, Snape looked indifferent to the whole ordeal.

"It is with the most unbelievable sadness that I apologise to you. Hogwarts has failed you and for that I'm tremendously regretful. I highly doubt that it will serve as a great source of comfort but, for now, all I can do is promise to be more alert and to fight back. For we must fight back, as hard as we possibly can."

The Headmaster sighed deeply. "I do not intend to feed you political propaganda but it is time that us at Hogwarts start facing this war the way that it has to be faced. My goal is not to scare you, only to warn you. In the face of adversity, we must come together rather than fall apart. Regardless, classes will resume next week… but should you wish to go home and spend these last few days of the Easter break with your families, a train will be leaving Hogsmeade station this evening. A small service will be held at Hogwarts on Saturday, for those of you who wish to pay your respects to Susan's loved ones, and transportation for that too, of course, will be provided..."

Lily reached out to hold Mary's hand. Though most students looked scared—and rightly so, it was the Gryffindor table which looked the most downcast, their faces the saddest in the whole hall.


As usual, Dumbledore's plea to be prepared rather than scared resonated as something much easier said than done.

Now, rather than mourning, the majority of the students, particularly those of Muggle heritage, were absolutely terrified. Before the news of Susan's passing had come out, though it was very small, there was still a flicker of hope, but now it had been heavily stamped into nothingness.

Lily highly doubted her friends would want to stay here and she couldn't begrudge them. Lily herself wanted nothing more than to go home and hide away in her room for the foreseeable future but, seeing as that wasn't really an option, she felt resigned to stay at Hogwarts.

Whatever hunger Lily had felt before Dumbledore's speech was now gone. Now, she was in the Gryffindor common room, curled up in her favourite armchair, reading the latest Agatha Christie novel that Mary had gotten her for her birthday and she hadn't had a chance to read yet.

Lily felt someone sit down on the left armrest; it was James Potter. Running one hand through his perpetually unruly hair, he asked, "Why aren't you packing?"

"I'm staying at Hogwarts."

"Evans—" James gaped at her. "—what the bloody hell are you doing that for?"

"Don't give me that look," she chastised him. "It's not like I want to stay, but I can't really go home, now can I? Mum isn't exactly aware of the current political climate and Petunia… Petunia doesn't really care."

"Come home with me," he said, as though it was the most obvious suggestion in the world, and Lily's heart skipped a beat.

"I couldn't possibly impose on your family that way."

"Don't be daft, Evans," scoffed James. "It's not a bloody imposition. You're family, and you deserve to be with family. We'll bring the guys, and Marley, Mary, and Lizzy can come too, of course."

"Your parents, they don't—"

"I've spoken to them already, they'd be happy to have you. Well, not happy, considering the circumstances, but—you know… The point is you're not imposing."

Lily eyed him with uncertainty. "If you're sure."

"One-hundred percent sure." He shook his head. "Come on, now! The last carriages will be leaving soon."

It was Lily's first night-ride on the Hogwarts Express. She watched the rain fall, fat droplets hitting the window glass, and soon enough she was asleep. She dozed on and off for most of the trip, either leaning against the window or laying her head on Marlene's lap, who was playing a rather flashy game of Exploding Snap with Sirius and Peter that miraculously didn't disturb Lily too much.

As she slept, Lily dreamt of hooded shadows chasing after her through the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't see the faces of her pursuers, as their heads had been swapped with those of snakes, dark in colour, with piercing yellow eyes. Lily ran until the trees of the forest thinned down into smaller bushes, and soon enough she found herself in Hogsmeade. It was unbearably cold in the village and, as she looked up at the sky, she figured out why; Dementors, dozens of them, roamed the streets, their black cloaks sweeping the ground and freezing everything in their path.

A bright flash of light shot past her, scaring the Dementors away. Lily felt her temperature rise, and only then did she notice the light had taken the form of an animal, though she couldn't exactly discern which one. It looked like it had some sort of antlers, and… was it a deer? It couldn't be, it was far too large an animal. A stag, perhaps?

Not long after, she awoke and, when she did, Lily noticed that she was propped up against James instead of Marlene now, who seemed to have dozed off himself somewhere over the course of the seven-hour journey back to London.

Once the train finally arrived at King's Cross, they hailed the Knight Bus, which quickly took them to James' large, overbearing house. His parents were asleep by the time that they got there, but his mum, Euphemia, had left a note with some instructions.

James and Sirius would both be staying in their own rooms, each bunking in with Peter and Remus, respectively. Marlene and Lily occupied the first guestroom and Mary and Lizzy would occupy the last one.

It didn't take long for Lily to fall asleep once more. She'd barely put on her pyjamas and hung up her Hogwarts cloak before she found herself falling into a deep slumber.

The next morning, Lily woke up feeling more well-rested than she had all term.


(T-minus: two days)

Only two days had passed since they'd left Hogwarts but Lily could already feel the difference. Her shoulders weren't as tense, her posture not so stiff, and she felt lighter than she had in months. Though Hogwarts was her home, even Lily, who wasn't as close with Susan as Lizzy or even Mary had been, found it stifling and strange to roam the familiar corridors of the castle, knowing full-well Susan would never do so again.

Despite the weather, the boys had gone to play Quidditch in James' extremely large courtyard. The girls, however, were huddled up in Lily and Marlene's room. Mary was reading the newest edition of Witch Weekly, while the other three played with Elizabeth's old set of Gobstones.

They'd only been at it for ten minutes but Marlene was already clearly winning, as Lizzie had terrible aim, and Lily was far too distracted by the Quidditch game going on outside, and one Chaser in particular.

"A-HA!" Marlene exclaimed, as one of the marbles squirted its trademark rotten-smelling liquid at Lily, who shrieked as she felt it hit her arm. "You know, you seem awfully distracted today. Usually you're a Gobstones pro."

"Yeah, well…" Lily quipped weakly. "You know how it goes, off days and all…" She let her gaze drift back to the window, which gave her a clear view of the Marauders. Sirius had just scored a goal but it was James Potter who she couldn't look away from. His head was thrown back as he laughed and she could tell that the Impervius charm they'd casted was starting to wear off, as wet strands of dark hair were starting to cling to his forehead.

She forced herself to turn away from the window and back to her friends, coming face to face with Marlene's mocking smirk.

"You're being ridiculous, Lily, honestly," said Mary, looking up from her magazine. "He is as well."

Lily laughed. A familiar heat crept up all the way to her face and suddenly she was tomato-red all over.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied quickly, gingerly sparing a look at Lizzy. Why the bleeding hell her friends were flaunting her crush in front of Liz of all people, Lily had no idea. Elizabeth, however, simply smiled knowingly.

"I don't mind, Lily. Honestly," she pressed, "don't hold back on my account. Or Susan's. You deserve to be happy."

Lily swallowed, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. She wished she could catapult out of her skin and come back in a few hours; maybe by then her friends would have forgotten about it. Lily laughed to herself—fat chance of that happening…

"But… but there's nothing there!" Lily insisted, her cheeks getting even redder. "You're all bloody mental, I say. Honestly, where you even got the idea, I don't—."

"For Merlin's sake, Lily," huffed Mary. "Are we seriously having this conversation again? Denial doesn't become you."

Lily sighed. "Alright, then. Say there's maybe something—a really small something—oh, bollocks. I'm so sorry, Liz... I'm such a shit friend."

"Merlin," Elizabeth replied, her lips turning into a grin, "have you really been trying to repress this so much that you've actually talked yourself into denial?"

Lily hid her face behind her hair.

"Oh my God!" Mary cried out in recognition. "So that's why you were acting like shrew back when term started! You know, Peter was all over me in Transfiguration when we partnered for the bird-conjuring charm."

"Uh?" Marlene asked. "What's Peter got to do with anything?"

"Oh, right... He was all like Oh, Prongs won't shut up about Evans, he's always 'Why is Evans avoiding me?' and 'Have you talked to Evans lately?' and 'D'you reckon Evans is ok?'. You were jealous!"

"I wasn't jealous!" Lily countered. It felt wrong to speak so openly about this when James' dead girlfriend was to be buried in a couple of days' time. But, seeing the looks of disbelief on her friend's faces, she conceded, "Okay, so maybe I was a little you blame me though? I mean, I'm practically in love with the guy and he bloody well goes and—oh no."

Marlene shrieked.

"You're such a Dodging Donna!"

Lily threw one of her pillows at Marlene and rolled her eyes. "He totally doesn't like me, though."

"What do you mean he doesn't like you?" asked Marlene in disbelief. "You can't actually be serious right now."

Seeing Lily's gobsmacked expression, Lizzy burst out laughing.

"Lil, he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon."

It took her a while but, when it finally sunk in, that this was James, and he liked her, try as she might, Lily couldn't repress the ear-to-ear grin that threatened to take over her face. He didn't even have to be as far gone as she was, honestly; if only he felt for her a tenth of what she felt for him, then they'd be fucking solid.

Mary coughed.

"I should probably tell him, then, shouldn't I?" asked Lily, eager. "I mean, he deserves to know, really, it'd only be polite—"

"Lily, just go."

Lily took a deep breath, trying desperately not to rationalise herself into giving up on the idea.

"Yeah," she said to no one in particular. "Yeah, okay. I… I'm going. I'm going."

Then, she stood up and, looking once more at Elizabeth, she said, "Are you sure it's okay? I mean, are you one-hundred percent—no, make it two-hundred—that I'm not, quite possibly, fucking up?"

"Go get him, dragon."


It took one sharp left, descending a staircase, and then two right turns for her to reach James' makeshift Quidditch pitch. Instead of casting her own Impervius charm, she marched right out into the rain before she could change her mind and go back inside.

Instead, she casted a quick Sonorus on herself and shouted "POTTER!"

He whipped his head back to look behind him so fast that Lily was sure he must have gotten whiplash.

"Evans?" he asked, immediately starting to dive down.

"Can you come inside for a second? There's something I want to talk to you about."

By the time they returned to the house, Lily was soaked, the moisture from her hair seeping uncomfortably into her cream shirt.

"So… what did you want to tell me?" James panted.

Well, that Lily knew. She wanted to tell him how much she liked him, how much she loved him, how much happier she was when he was around, how she honestly couldn't see her world without James Potter. There was also the fact that she wanted to snog him senseless, of course, but maybe that particular part she'd leave out in the hope that he'd catch onto that. How she was going to express it all… Lily had no idea.

She had all the words in the world at her disposal and yet she wasn't certain of how to work with them; she didn't know which ones to put after the others, didn't know how to arrange them in a way that said exactly what she needed to say, so desperately. And so, Lily did what she did best when it came to James Potter; she argued.

"Oh, you know, it's just that… well, I've been thinking—you know, as one does—and I've just—we're not really friends, are we?" There Lily went, stuffing her foot into her mouth. Honestly, why James wanted anything to do with her was beyond her.

James's eyes went wide. "What do you mean we're not friends? Of course we're friends! Don't be ridiculous, Lily," he scoffed.

"No, of course," Lily rushed to explain. "All I'm saying is that, well, to put it lightly, I think that you're the most brilliant, remarkable, maddening person I have ever met, and you challenge me more than anyone… I mean, isn't the goal to find someone who can dish it out just as well as you can?"

At this point, James' left hand had already jumped to his hair, anxiously wreaking more havoc than even the strongest pot of Sleekeazy's could tame. He exhaled heavily, trying—and failing—to ground himself. What was she getting at?

"And we've gotten there, haven't we?" she continued. "Even when I was a prig and you were—well, a dick, really—it's just always been there, hasn't it? Oh, bollocks, I'm really rambling here…"

James was losing his patience.

"Lily. Get to the point," he snapped, clenching his jaw.

Lily, of course, went on as though she hadn't heard him. What was he expecting? She was pouring her bleeding heart out here, for Christ's sake – finally! She was on a roll.

"—and so, I mean, the only logical conclusion is that, well, we're being quite stupid about it all, aren't we? Because to be honest, I'm halfway in love with you already, so, if you could square up and put us both out of our bloody miseries—"

But Lily never finished her sentence as James pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers.

It was by far the messiest kiss that she'd experienced in all of her admittedly short life, but it was also the best. They were sticking to each other, and Lily's wet hair was definitely in the way, but then James cupped her cheeks and did something so delicious with his tongue that Lily could hardly worry about it.

Just as soon as he pulled her close, though, he pulled away.

Lily's heart, moving miles too fast, shattered. Her face fell and, with a shudder, she pushed her hair behind her ears.

"Well… right then, I guess I'll be going—"

James quickly pulled her back in, this time leaning down just enough so that both their foreheads could touch.

"Lily, don't be daft, of course I love you," he breathed, and it was both easy and heavy. "Just… let me put Susan to rest. I need to do that before I can do this."

"But you do? Want to do this?" Lily didn't know if her voice really sounded that small or if it was just a consequence of the blood pounding in her ears.

"I want to do this," he assured her. "Just… maybe not just yet?"

It wasn't a refusal. They were tabling it for a while, but it wasn't off the proverbial table.

And for the time being, to Lily, that was enough.


(T-minus: two hours)

The whole Lily and James debacle made for a pretty strange couple of days.

Now that everything was, for better or for worse, out in the open, every single one of their interactions—every mindless conversation, every locking of eyes, every brush of hands, shoulders, elbows—seemed charged in a way it hadn't been before.

Now, instead of softly humming, whenever Lily got in a six-foot radius of James, her whole body buzzed in anticipation.

That, of course, only made her feel more terrible about the whole ordeal with Susan, though James had, of course, kept his word and, much to Lily's chagrin, his hands to himself.

The change in their demeanour hadn't gone unnoticed by their friends, either; as soon as Lily made her way back to her and Marlene's room, she was positively assaulted by the girls, who immediately demanded that she tell them the full play-by-play of her rendezvous with James. Not delving too much into it, Lily simply told them things had gone well and that nothing major had happened; she suspected that James had had a very similar conversation with his mates, though whether they actually talked about their feelings at length or not was beyond her. Boys.

The whole thing had only happened two days ago, even if to her it felt like a lifetime. By the time the forty-eight hour mark rolled around, the whole atmosphere of the house had shifted.

The much dreaded—though, also regrettably awaited—Saturday had sneaked up on them, and the group soon found themselves back on the Hogwarts Express.

Lizzy hadn't cried yet. Instead she sat there, catatonic, staring blankly out of the fogged-up window, not really seeing anything.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade station, it was dark out. The bewitched carriages brought them back to the castle and, for Lily, seeing the impressive towers and chambers once again was what truly burst her bubble.

It was only then that Lily really realised just how detached from the real world that she'd felt at James' house. Coming back to the castle, walking the grounds again, and standing underneath Susan's favourite beech tree was a harsh reality check, and no amounts of drooling over James and replaying their glorious, magnificent, brilliant kiss could change things.

Susan was dead. Today was her funeral.

With classes starting on Monday, most of the students who'd gone home for the holidays had taken the train back to the castle. And so, despite the late hour, the grounds were full.

Next to the lake, small wooden chairs had been arranged in perfectly aligned rows. A small elevated stage had been mounted, and Lily couldn't help but wonder why the service wasn't being held in the Great Hall. It would have made a lot more sense from a logistical point of view.

Today students of all the houses sat together, abandoning notions of house loyalties and choosing instead to sit with their closest friends in what would otherwise be a beautiful and colourful mix, if they hadn't all been dressed in black.

Susan's family was predictably absent. Muggles were unable to see Hogwarts, never mind step foot inside it.

As Lily would later learn, her parents, and especially her younger brother, had been so distraught upon hearing the news that there hadn't even been a proper Muggle ceremony.

Dumbledore gave a speech but Lily had numbingly zoned out for most of it.

She couldn't bear to focus on what he was saying or her surroundings because in doing so she was only reminded of the uncertainty of her own life, how easily it could have been her, or Mary, or any of them… and it scared Lily more than she cared to admit.

Instead, she stared at Dumbledore with glazed eyes, not even bothering to wipe away her tears, and feeling like a hypocrite.


Only two weeks had passed since term had started and already Minerva McGonagall could notice a difference in her students.

The younger ones, poor little things, walked the halls terrified, always in clusters of at least five, constantly looking over their shoulders. Everyone was so skittish that most had taken a liking to the 'hex first, ask questions later' attitude, and so jinx-related injuries were at an all-time high.

The older ones, however, had chosen to approach the situation in a different way. Some were taking shifts in the Hospital Wing, trying to help Madam Pomfrey manage the overwhelming influx of injured students. Others were stepping up in their chosen practical clubs, such as Charms, Potions, or, of course, Transfiguration. Some had even decided to take on the challenge of leading tutoring groups, but only one of them, Professor McGonagall noticed, seemed to be trying to do it all at once.

She was sitting at her desk, grading some second-year essays, when James Potter knocked on her door.

"Professor?"

McGonagall motioned for him to take a seat but he did not. Instead, he pulled out from his bookbag what looked like dozens of lists, charts, and a considerable amount of scribbled parchment.

"I've been thinking about the latest Transfiguration club meeting and I can't help but wonder if there's more we could be doing when it comes to the practical demonstrations… The Hogwarts curriculum is great, of course, but there's still so much we don't know—"

"Have you slept at all, Potter?" McGonagall interrupted.

"A couple of hours, yeah," he dismissed, running a hand through his hair. "But what do you think of—"

"It simply wouldn't do to have my Quidditch Captain collapse in the middle of a game because he's too exhausted to hold his head upright."

At this, James visibly straightened out.

"Well, you see—I failed her," he said. "Susan, that is."

McGonagall opened her mouth to speak but Potter, apparently forgoing social niceties, went on before she could interject. "It doesn't matter how or in what way. I failed Susan, and now she's dead and I have to make up for it, I need to make up for it. I'm stepping up, in whatever way necessary."

"I have to say, Potter," McGonagall said, poorly disguising her choked-up voice, "it's lovely to see you shape up to be the person that I've always known you could be."

She didn't miss the way his cheeks blushed, but, rather than acknowledging it, James Potter simply nodded and asked to be excused.

That same night, McGonagall put on her tartan dressing gown and marched to Professor Dumbledore's quarters. The Headmaster was sitting in his rocking chair and knitting.

"I'm sorry to intrude on your night, Headmaster."

"You are not intruding in the slightest, Minerva. Come on in, take a seat."

"I won't need much time," McGonagall assured him. Professor Dumbledore produced a mug from thin air and poured her some lemon tea.

She took a sip and began, "Well, Albus, while I acknowledge that it may be bold and presumptuous to take too strong a stance when it comes to picking and choosing between students, I've come to give you my opinion. Likewise, I give you my word that what I believe to be the correct choice comes not from a place of favouritism but of principle…" she took another sip, pausing as a precursory, "Perhaps I shouldn't advocate for such a polarising student… but nevertheless I firmly believe that James Potter should be made Head Boy. Indeed, to appoint any other student would be a disservice to the school."

"Thank you, Minerva. I am glad I will, at least, have one faculty member supporting my decision."

If Professor McGonagall was surprised, she did not show it. Instead, she asked reservedly, "And as for Head Girl?"

Dumbledore smiled into his own mug, eyes twinkling.

"Lily Evans, of course."


A/N: Soooooo did you guys like it? Please don't forget to tell me what you thought of this chapter in the review section bellow, and I'll (hopefully) see you soon! x