Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Chapter 15

Lily pondered the idea of suggesting to Derrick they sit down in the still empty classroom, but then she remembered the topic of their following conversation—not one of pleasantries—and realized that would be inappropriate.

Much to her puzzlement, Derrick seemed to be finding difficulty in standing still. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his legs twitching, and the pupils of his eyes were darting wildly out of control. Taken as a whole, Derrick looked twitchy—he always appeared twitchy these days—and she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Not wanting any more incoming thoughts of potential sympathy for someone who certainly deserved none in her eyes, Lily quickly cut to the chase with a question. "Derrick, are you a Half Blood?"

As she waited impatiently on edge, his answer came as a steady, "No."

She couldn't help but feel stunned at his words. Part of her was surprised; even devastated by his answer, but the other part had expected it. "Don't lie to me," she said, trying to control her anger as her fists balled.

Derrick shook his head resolutely, "I'm not lying—"

"How could you be so hypocritical last year and call me a Mudblood when you're not even of full wizarding blood yourself?" Lily yelled, refusing to believe Derrick's words. At the mention of last year, flickers of memories flashed before her mind and she could feel her voice quaver - but she refused to let wavering take over her voice, making her appear as though what he had done to her had made her weak.

"I assure you, Lily, I'm not a Half Blood," Derrick repeated, "I'm from a wizarding family of full, pure blood—"

"And I suppose I'm impure, aren't I?" Lily snapped. Truthfully, she just wanted to get something out of him—anything out of him—any sort of vicious remark to familiarize the person who was standing here before her as the same obnoxious creep who loved his spiky hair – a hairstyle she hadn't seen on him in ages. Frustratingly Derrick said nothing, merely looking down at his feet, which was a new habit he had adopted lately; one that Lily despised to no end.

"What happened to you?" she asked him faintly. "I mean….something must have happened to make you like…this. It's like you've lost all sense of-" she studied his expression and didn't find the usual conceit behind it "-self importance."

"I think I'm going down the right path to more self-importance, actually," Derrick said acutely, "It's just….proving harder than I originally thought."

Lily was confused. "Path to what?" she asked. Derrick didn't answer her question.

"Why is the knowledge of my wizarding blood so important to you?" he answered her question with a new one.

"I was giving you the opportunity to own up," Lily said in a harsh tone, "Though obviously there's still a bit of pomposity left in you that makes you think you're too admirable to confess—"

"Confess to what?"

"That you're the Half Blood Prince!"

Yet again, Lily waited impatiently for him to respond. In her mind, he was going to come clean just as she imagined; burst into tears, or with a flurry of anger or despair - something dramatic. Except he didn't.

"I'm not the Half Blood Prince."

Lily blinked several times, trying to take in his words. The conversation was going nothing like she had imagined; it was all wrong. Derrick was supposed to confess, they were supposed to come to agreement, and this whole sodding mess was supposed to have been sorted out so she wouldn't feel endlessly guilty in front of James. Everything was supposedto be back to normal. How could she have guessed so wrongly?

"W-what do you mean you're not the Half Blood Prince? It has to be you!" Lily's voice rose deafeningly, bouncing off the bare walls. "There's no one else it could be!"

"I'm not him," was Derrick's stony answer again.

"But….but you know who it is, don't you? You know who the Half Blood Prince is," Lily said feverishly. "Your reply to my question was too quick to be oblivious to what I'm talking about, Derrick, who is it?" His muteness sustained as he didn't answer, instead, gazing out the window with faraway eyes. She let out a groan of frustration. "For Merlin's sake, Derrick, tell me who he bloody is!" she ordered him, and found herself contradicting herself, "Unless you're lying to me….you're lying and you're actually the Half Blood Prince and this is some sort of cover up?" She got increasingly more annoyed as he didn't comment on anything she was saying. "Come on Derrick," she started sardonically, "You used to love talking just to hear the sound of your own voice. Why so speechless now?" She strode towards him and grabbed him by the shoulders. At such threatening behavior, she expected him to hit her, or at least push her off, yet he did nothing but stand limply.

"Tell me who he is!" She shook him roughly. "Do you get some kind of pleasure from this? Do you find it funny that I'm scared about loosing my life because of four words on a piece of parchment?" Her hands turned white as they clutched Derrick's robes.

"Don't worry, Lily," he finally responded, with a piercing gaze, "You'll find out who the Prince is soon enough. Secrets always come out in the end."

Lily didn't know whether to feel relieved or horrified by this comment. On one hand, the Half Blood Prince would finally be revealed, whether it was Derrick or not. On the other hand, when he was exposed, all hell would break lose. She dreaded to imagine how James would react to the news, especially after being kept in the dark for so long.

"Thanks for nothing," Lily grunted, releasing Derrick with a thrust. He stumbled back a little into one of the classroom desks. With no backward glance, Lily left the classroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Alone in the corridor, she felt the eerie feeling of being watched. She didn't dwell on the sense any longer as she made her way back to the Head Tower.

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Remus realized befriending 'Hot Georgina' was a big mistake.

"So, do you want to play a game?"

A very big mistake.

He chewed slowly on his ham sandwich (he had a particular craving for meat at that moment, especially nearing the full moon), whilst sitting in the Kitchens. Not wanting to speak with his mouth full, he shrugged in response.

"You know what game I've missed playing since I was little?" Georgina asked. She was eating a peculiar mixture of jam tarts, fig rolls, chocolate gateau and strawberry wafers. Remus didn't like her eating those because Sirius always ate those; it was Sirius food. "Wolf's dinner time," she said.

At once, Remus choked on his ham sandwich and started violently coughing. Not looking at all troubled, Georgina slapped him on the back as a means of a Heimlich maneuver. She continued, "I loved that game. You're Muggle-born, right? You know it? That game where someone is the 'wolf'-" Remus immediately looked uncomfortable "-And everyone calls out 'What's the time Mr. Wolf?'. He says a time and everyone moves a step depending on the time, and then eventually he shouts 'It's dinner time!' and he chases you and—"

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of the game," Remus finally cut in, picking off imaginary dust from his sandwich. "I didn't like it particularly when I was younger…"

"How could you not like the game? It was brilliant!" Georgina got excited just talking about it. Again, her easily energized self reminded Remus of Sirius. "We should play it."

"How?" Remus asked. He was bewildered to how her mind worked. "You need more than two people," he pointed out.

"The house elves can join in," Georgina suggested, grabbing a passing one by the loin cloth. "You'll play, won't you, Poppet?"

"'Play,' miss? What is this 'play' you speak of?"

Georgina released the house elf with a sigh. "Never mind," she grunted. She turned back to Remus, "We can play; just the two of us," she proposed.

"Who would be the wolf, though?" Remus swallowed.

"I see you as one," Georgina grinned. Yet again, Remus choked on the little sandwich that was left. "Merlin, Remus," she looked startled, "I think you need to chew more."

"Sorry, it's just…can we please stop talking about wolves?" Remus, to some extent, pleaded.

Georgina looked suspicious, but merely shrugged, "Alright." She tapped her fingers across the table, looking bored, until her eyes suddenly lit up as she thought of an idea. She grabbed Remus' hand, which had been holding his half-eaten ham sandwich that he was forced to drop back on his golden plate, and said, "Let me read your palm."

"You believe in that palm-reading hogwash?" Remus said. Any thoughts of her hands feeling sort of velvety didn't come across his mind at that particular moment.

"It's not hogwash," Georgina said, tracing her fingers over his palm. "Did you know you can find about a person by the shape of their hand?"

Remus looked mighty confused, "The shape of their hand? Aren't all hands, well, hand-shaped?" he said, quite lamely.

"No," Georgina scoffed at his so-called ignorance, "There's pointed hands—"

"Good grief, you mean like a claw?"

"No, that's called a bird, Remus," Georgina rolled her eyes. "I think ham sandwiches weaken your knowledge."

Remus paused, before agreeing, "I think so, too."

"There are cone-shaped hands, as well," Georgina continued to list, prodding Remus' fingers, "Square shaped hands, spade-shaped hands—"

"Now you're just pulling my leg," Remus said, refusing to believe someone had a hand that resembled a gardening tool.

"I'm not kidding."

"Well…what form is my hand?" Remus asked, peering at it.

"Hmmm," Georgina peered at it too, "Mixed shape," she concluded.

"Oh…that's rather boring, isn't it? I'm so boring I don't even have a defined hand shape, I have a mixed one-"

"You're not boring, you stupid sod," Georgina slapped him lightly in the arm, again for his 'ignorance', "A mixed shape hand means you're practical." She stretched his fingers a bit for good measure. "You'd make a good professor." She smiled.

Remus couldn't help but grin at the thought. "Actually, I've always wanted to want to be a professor."

Georgina blinked, "Wanted to want? Remus, that sentence held no sagacity."

"Oh." Remus tried again, "I've always wanted to admit that being a professor is something I've consider as a future career, but, well, I was afraid the guys would tease me…"

"Mainly Sirius," Georgina guessed accurately. Remus nodded. "Did you ever think he might just support you in wanting to be a professor?"

"No, because this is Sirius Black we're talking about."

Georgina laughed absurdly. "He wouldn't be so ignorant to mock to you for wanting to be a teacher, surely."

"Trust me; you don't know him like I do." Remus eyed her as she continued to examine his hand in hers, poking and prodding it in places. "Georgina, tell me if it's none of my business or anything, but do you still fancy James?" He was surprised by his bluntness.

"That was a rather out-of-the-blue question," Georgina acknowledged. Remus arched an eyebrow. "No, I don't," she seemed quite embarrassed, "Why?"

Remus chose his words carefully, a little startled to see Georgina embarrassed - something he'd never seen before, though he hadn't known her long, "James told me you used to like him—"

"Wow, he's still got that enormous head that blocks out the sun, hasn't he?" Georgina snorted.

"And I'm just wondering here…that maybe the only reason you're befriending me is to get closer to him," Remus said, "or maybe to Sirius," he shrugged, "I really don't know."

"People really do think the worst of me, don't they?" Georgina spoke in a hollow tone, and Remus couldn't help but feel ashamed for asking such a question; a question that had been put in his brain by James, no doubt. "I just wanted to give you some company, that's all."

"I'm sorry," Remus suddenly apologized, "Let's forget I brought it up." He noticed she was still holding his hand, long after the palm-reading examination had supposedly ended, "er, what do my hand lines say, then? When will my death be?" he joked. "Are you going to do a Professor Cockett on me and tell me I'll die next Tuesday?"

Georgina laughed, relaxing. "We all know that woman got dropped—or shall I say pushed—off her broomstick when she was little."

"She told Sirius he was going to die recently," Remus said, quite pensively.

Georgina laughed again, "What did he say to that? 'Up yours'?"

"Actually…no. He ran off."

Georgina knotted her brow. "He ran off?" she echoed, looking troubled by the revelation.

"Yes…she said he was going to 'die alone' specifically. He was quite upset about it."

All of a sudden, Georgina looked sad. "He never told me," she said softly.

"Because you would've taken the piss," a voice called out from the portrait hole.

Remus and Georgina spun round to find Sirius had entered the Kitchens, looking a little crestfallen. His eyes slowly fell upon Remus' hand still in Georgina's, and Georgina quickly released it, as though burnt by fire. Sirius seemed to be particularly staring at Georgina, as if blocking Remus out of his system.

Sirius laughed through his nostrils. "I thought I was your Kitchen Buddy, Georgie?" He used her nickname, but it didn't have its normal affection in such an unfriendly tone.

"Sirius," Georgina started.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked her suddenly. "Alone."

Georgina looked at Remus but he'd already gotten up from his seat and was making his way out. "I've got to get going anyway," he excused himself, remembering it wasn't long until the full moon returned in the sky, and he felt increasingly more ill, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I thought we were hanging out later? You were going to show me the forbidden section of the library, remember?" Georgina joked. Sirius somehow became more terrifyingly annoyed, and the smile quickly fell from Georgina's lips as she noticed Sirius' reaction.

"You probably won't see me for a day," Remus mentioned lately.

"What?" Georgina looked confused, "How come?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look. "My mother…my mother's ill and I have to go visit her," he mumbled.

"Oh," Georgina said. Remus shrugged his shoulders, helplessly and apologetically, before escaping out the portrait hole in the blink of an eye, while Georgina stared on. Immediately, Sirius turned on her.

"What's going on here?" he questioned fiercely. Georgina looked a little staggered by the way he was speaking to her. "Since when have you two been hand-holding buddies?"

"I was reading his palm."

"Bollocks," Sirius dismissed her excuse. "Why are you so sociable with him all of a sudden?"

"I thought he needed the company."

"Or maybe you do," Sirius turned her words against her. "Come to think of it, I don't actually think I've seen you with any friends this year."

Georgina looked suddenly touchy. "Well, that's what I have to live when I'm trying to change from being an annoying tart," she said boldly, and Sirius hated the way she spoke so little of herself. "The friends I had didn't want me to change."

"But it's so much simpler to be that person from before, isn't it?" Sirius said, softening. Silently, Georgina nodded. "I used to be a right obnoxious twat when I first came here to Hogwarts, especially at age eleven. The sun shone out my arse, I believed. Then I got sorted into Gryffindor." Georgina didn't understand why he was telling her this. "The point is: people can change for the better."

"But you still think the sun shines out of your arse," Georgina pointed out plainly.

"Yes," Sirius partially agreed, "but I no longer think Muggleborns will give me rabies."

Georgina snorted. "You really thought that?"

"My family was messed up in the head. They warped my mind telling me a whole bunch of rubbish." Sirius' tone turned oddly gentle, "Georgie," she stared at him, "I don't like you hanging around with Remus."

She laughed at his strange behavior. "I don't know why you're so bothered."

"Because he can easily fall in love with you," Sirius tried to use a cheerful tone but it was laced with resentment, "and then never come back to the Marauders. Or you could easily fall in love with him…"

Georgina swallowed, "And then…?"

"And then I'd hate you. You wouldn't be allowed to fling pies at walls with me anymore."

"God forbid we stop that, Sirius." A warmish smile tugged at Georgina's lips. "It'd be less work for the house elves, mind you, cleaning up all that cream—"

"Georgina, why are you doing this?" Sirius asked, and she gazed confusedly at him. "Hanging out with Remus, I mean. Who're you doing it for? Me?"

"Oh you do think very highly of yourself, don't you, Mr Black?"

Sirius saw the situation in another light. "Or is it for James?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Georgina cursed in a rage, "I don't still fancy him!"

"Then why are you doing this?" Sirius pressed, "How are you benefiting in any way?"

"I just thought it'd be nice to get to know Remus better; see what's so great about him that makes you two such good pals," Georgina turned pensive, "Besides, there's something oddly mysterious about him…"

Predictably, Sirius looked worried. "There's nothing else to him," he stressed, "Nothing at all."

On that note, he left the Kitchens in a hurry and made his way to the Shrieking Shack, while Georgina pondered whatever mysterious secret about Remus there was, Sirius undoubtedly knew, too.

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Peter was worried; he'd never seen James like this before. Of course, he'd seen James angry before, plenty of times. That time Padfoot jumped on him for an unexpected piggyback and James ended up in the Hospital wing with a broken spine. And that time Sirius left dog excrement on his pillow. And that other time Padfoot chewed James' slippers while they were still on his feet and he ended up with masticated toes. Oh, and that one time Padfoot told Lily he hadn't really been sleeping outside her door after their brief argument and he had tricked her.

Sirius really pissed off James sometimes.

When James' anger was directed at a person, it was normally at Snape, or Sirius (in jest, of course). But James had never been terrifyingly angry at Lily, and as Peter watched James squeeze the life out of a spongy stress ball, Peter concluded James was terrifyingly angry at Lily right about now – though he had no idea what for.

"Merlin's mangoes, I need to throw something…" James muttered, with shut eyes. His hand continuously pumped as he squeezed the stress ball, so much it didn't resemble a ball anymore, more of a pancake.

"What's happened?" Peter asked loyally in good-friend-enquiry mode, taking a seat on the armchair of the Head Tower common room. As James leant by the fireplace, he continued to keep his eyes closed when he answered, as though that was a mechanism to control anger, however much the stress ball was becoming less circular.

"Need. To fucking. Throw something," James muttered again, his familiar habit of rage-release by criminal damage trying to take over. The more he thought about Lily and Derrick in that classroom, the more the want for breaking things greatened, and the harder he squeezed on the stress ball until it deflated with a "poof!" sound.

"Buggerbuggerbugger," James cursed, now squeezing the air. "Pete, give me something that's relatively soft and won't cause a mess if I throw it," he commanded. At once, Peter handed him a cushion and James hurled it at the wall. He felt a bit of satisfaction - nevertheless, there was no breakage or a sound of a crash, and this left him dissatisfied.

"What happened, Prongs?" Peter asked again.

James made a deflated sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I saw…I saw Lily and Derrick go into an empty classroom together," he revealed in a somber tone.

"Oh," Peter replied quietly, "Oh, that's not good at all."

"Well, it's not exactly high on the barometer scale of all things bright and beautiful," James bit back.

"Hey, don't get touchy with me, I'm not Lily here," Peter said with affront.

James looked apologetically at his friend. "Sorry Wormtail, I'm just so angry at the moment." He turned his gaze off the fire to look at Peter and almost immediately frowned. "Why are you wearing Remus' sweater and holding a dictionary and thesaurus in your hands?"

Peter blanched. He'd forgotten he'd been dressed in Substitute Remus' clothing, and was Substitute Remus unbeknownst to James.

"And you were wearing that stuff at dinner, too," James remembered, looking suspicious, "What's going on?"

"So," Peter started, slapping his knees, and tried not so inconspicuously to change the subject by asking, "dy'a think Lily's cheating on you?"

At such a thought, James was so distracted by the horror of Lily eating another's face (in snogging terms, of course) he picked up the bowl of lemon drops from the nearest table and hurled it at the wall. The bowl smashed to pieces and lemon drops showered everywhere.

"Feeling mildly better," James acknowledged. "Two more breakages and I should be fine."

"Prongs, I'm sure whatever you think Lily did, it's not what you think," Peter attempted to comfort him.

"No, you're right," James partly agreed, "It's probably a million times worse."

"Do you want another stress ball?"

"Yes please."

Peter handed James another spongy ball and James shot him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Pete." He started to squeeze the ball at hundred miles per hour. "God, I wish we had a full moon. It would've been great to release some anger as Prongs. Head butt a few trees and that."

"Padfoot's gone to the Shack though anyway, hasn't he?" Peter said, currently collecting up lemon drops from the floor.

"Yep," James nodded. "Hopefully he'll work out things with Moony and one sodding thing in my life will be relatively decent—"

"Oh, for goodness sake, why are there bloody lemon drop sweets everywhere? I just cleaned this tower this morning!"

Both Peter and James turned the voice of the sound and found Lily had just stepped through the portrait hole, stepping over sweets scattered across the ground. She looked mighty disgruntled at the mess, though the disgruntled look upon James' face could send hers to the grave several times over. Worriedly, Peter glanced at James, wondering what he was going to do next and whether he should transform to rat-mode and escape whatever nearby objects could be thrown (that table over there looked quite large and heavy).

To Peter's surprise, James said nothing, and instead gave Lily one of the fiercest glares he had ever seen. Being on the receiving end of James' anger was rare to Lily, only witnessing his anger directed her way to some extent after he discovered she had agreed to date Derrick last year. Silently James spun round and stormed to his dormitory, slamming it firmly behind him.

"What in the name of Merlin was all that about?" Lily asked Peter, looking tremendously mystified. Peter shrugged, also as mute as James; not wanting to get involved in the situation any longer, he left the Head Tower.

Lily lingered at James' dorm door, debating whether to knock, but she held back; her hand falling back down to her side. Sighing, she turned round and entered her own dormitory, shutting the door with a quiet click.

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It was at times likes these when Remus wished he'd bought some sort of 'fun pastime' with him to the Shrieking Shack, while he waited agonizingly for the moon to appear. When the other Marauders had joined him on this night, they normally chatted as they waited, and that was only when Remus had given up telling them it was too dangerous to be around him in such close time to his inner werewolf delivery.

Scrabble, that's what Remus wanted - Monopoly, even. He was particularly familiar with being "bankrupt" in the game as his poor lifestyle resembled it so.

"Books," Remus spoke to himself, picking loose threads of the tattered chair, belonging to the just as dilapidated shack, "Should have brought books."

Or he could have brought friends. More specifically: the Marauders. It had only been a day and he was missing their company. It seemed like keeping away from the boys did some good; he'd gotten no disturbing dreams involving Sirius last night. But he was left with dreamless sleep at what cost?

Losing friends.

Remus used Sirius' particularly crude phrase: "This sucks niffler balls." He made a defeated sigh as a he gazed out of the cracked window caused by a thrown stone. Some sunlight crept through the window pane. Remus liked sun; it was the good light, against the bad light: the moon. He cherished sunlit days.

This particularly day was nearing to an end.

The supplementary colors with a sunset were disappearing; all those dazzling reds and yellows that are picture-perfect enough for a postcard.

It was black now. He had, what, minutes? Minutes until he wasn't himself. Minutes until he was it.

He'd told himself to disassociate himself with the creature that was within him. He wasn't the beast; not really. It was like a bad trait that was attached to him – a really bad one. He wasn't part of that…thing.

A creak was made, and, on guard, Remus sprung to his feet, searching for the direction of the noise. He saw a mop of black hair, then limbs, then Sirius climbing through the trap door of the floor of the shack. It didn't seem like he thought his presence was out of place at all.

"Padfoot, what are you doing here?" Remus hissed, horrified.

"Oh come on," Sirius scoffed, "As if telling Prongs to tell me not to come would make the chances of me turning up lessen. You did the worst thing imaginable, Moony."

Remus still couldn't believe Sirius is present, here and then at such a worst time. "I cannot believe you!" he cried at Sirius. "I cannot believe you turned up anyway! I'll never forgive you for this."

"You're not exactly in my good books either, Moony. It's bloody fantastic you and Georgina have hit it off—" Sirius started dryly.

"She befriended me first," Remus protested his innocence. "Sirius, please," his tone turned quiet and sad, "just go, quickly. I'm going to transform any second—"

"I can't believe you'd break the Marauder tradition," Sirius cut over him, hurt. "Despite what's going on right now, this night is like a ritual and never broken."

Remus wasn't listening to him, at least not on purpose. His skin was getting Goosebumps, a clear sign he was on the verge of transforming. His hair was prickling – not the ones of a werewolf, the short ones on his arm. They were human. He was human, just not for much longer. He was human down inside though, wasn't he?

"Sirius, for God's sake, please, just go."

"Bloody hell, Moony, I'm not letting you go through this alone!"

"I've done it-" Remus felt himself shivering, and he had to pause to gasp for breath "-alone before."

"Yeah, and me, Prongs and Wormtail spent three years to become Animagus so you wouldn't have to do that anymore," Sirius said, shaking his head at him.

Remus' breath was becoming hoarser. "Please go," he pleaded, one final time. Mutely, Sirius shook his head. Remus cried his name to stop, but it was too late as Sirius malformed into his Animagus form, becoming the black shaggy dog at Remus' feet.

Remus stared down at him with the overwhelming feeling of wanting to kick his friend. Sadly, Remus was no supporter of cruelty to animals.

A streak of light marked the dusty floorboards, and Remus followed the light to the window, and there it was, his enemy, the full moon. He could feel his limbs shaking, becoming rigid, and his shoulders unnaturally hunching. His head was lengthening, and hair was sprouting – the little ones on his arms were longer now, so long now they were covering his hands and face.

In barely seconds, he was gone.

Snarling, the werewolf pounced on Padfoot, and the two tussled across the floor, as usual in their games of creature instinct. Sirius took it all in his stride. Sirius could take Lupin.

He always did.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes that were peeking through the gap of the trapdoor lingered a second longer, before the hazel orbs disappeared, back into the passage below.

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Breakfast the next morning for the Marauders was quiet, especially with the absence of two: Padfoot and Moony. James figured they were still at the Shrieking Shack. James was particularly avoiding Lily. Seeing her going into that empty classroom with Derrick still hasn't been discussed. He didn't feel like discussing it yet, and it didn't seem like Lily wanted to either as she sat at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, staring into her cereal.

James was still angry. Sleep hadn't calmed him down.

James wanted to throw things.

"No," Peter warned him, taking the golden plate from his friend that had nearly been chucked at a first year. James pouted, crossing his arms. He made a familiar frown at Peter when he eyed his get-up.

"Why are you still wearing Remus' clothes?" James asked confusedly. "Is it Halloween or something? Was I not told?"

Yet again, Peter panicked. He did not want to be the one to tell James he had been 'replaced', especially when he was in one of his I-THROW-THINGS-IN-RAGE moods. Searching for something to distract James, he pointed at Frank, who, for some peculiar reason, was also sitting with James and Peter (something James only realized until now, becoming very suspicious). "Frank looks like you," Peter said, as an attempt to get interest off his self. To his relief, James turned his full attention on Frank who—again, for some peculiar reason—was eating the exact same food James was.

"Your hair looks different, Frankie," James stated, narrowing his eyes at his tresses. "It's darker….and more…?"

"Unkempt?" Peter helped out, suddenly flicking through the thesaurus he had slammed it onto his breakfast of soggy scrambled eggs. "Tousled? Rumpled? Messy? Scruffy? Uncombed-?"

"I'm gonna hit you in a minute, Pete, if you don't shut up," James warned him, stuffing toast into his gob. Peter swallowed it in small gulps. "Your tie's looser, too," James continued to Frank, observing his robes, "and your shirt collar's sticking up like mine," he said, a little annoyed that his trendy habit had been copied, "What is going on?"

Frank slowly chewed on his breakfast. "Have you not been told?" he asked James.

James was beginning to get annoyed about being left in the dark. "Told me what?"

Frank laughed a little. "That you've been re—"

"He hasn't been told," Peter lately mentioned, shooting him an imploring look.

"Oh," Frank made a small 'o' shape with his mouth as he turned quiet.

"Told me what?" James pressed, "Re what? I'm re-what?"

Peter and Frank exchanged nervous looks, until Frank said, rather lamely, "Re-re….re…..re-tarded?"

"Oh, I've been told that before, don't worry," James sighed, gazing at the opposite end of the Great Hall for his orange peel.

"Phew," Peter muttered low under his breath. Unfortunately, James picked up on it.

"Phew? 'Phew' what?"

"Errrm…." Peter blanched, searching for an excuse. "Ph-ph-phew…phew….few people underestimate….the power…..of moths." He ended on a scary nod.

"Um…yeah, that's nice, Wormtail," James answered distractedly. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he spotted a small group at the other end of the table, where Lily appeared to be talking to all the prefects in some sort of brief meeting, huddling round her as she talked animatedly.

Amongst them was Derrick. Lily was near Derrick. Derrick was near Lily.

James wanted to throw things.

He snapped, launching a spoon into the air like a hand grenade, successfully hitting the back of a fifth year's head.

"Excuse me," James told Peter and Frank, grinding his teeth, and getting up from his seat. At once, he strode to the other side of the Great Hall.

"James!" Peter tried to call him back, standing. "James, I feel if I was Remus in this situation, I would tell you to not make a scene as it would be-" he grabbed the thesaurus and quickly looked though "-imprudent, unwise, impractical and asinine!"

"So, basically I've been told by McGonagall to pass on the message to you that you each need to tell the members of your house: whoever changed the shade of her robes into every colour of the rainbow, please own up by the end of the day, or their punishment will greaten to the person she discovers committed the fashion crime," Lily told the prefects, pointedly not looking at Derrick, standing somewhat alone at the back of the cluster. The group let off small chuckles at her choice of words.

"It brightened up my Transfiguration lessons," one of the prefects chimed in.

"As it did for me," Lily agreed, smiling. God, she loved being Head Girl. It felt so right.

"Excuse me. Can you move, please?"

Lily heard a voice and spotted James cutting through the small crowd, her smile quickly fading.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware there was a Head meeting," James said, looking Lily sorely in the eye. Her mouth parted a little, unsure what to say. The prefects watched James' icy nature in confusion. "But Derrick knew about the meeting," he said, with dry pleasure, looking at the broody blonde. "Maybe he should be Head Boy, I mean, he seems to spend more time with the Head Girl that I do sometimes."

Lily' eyes closed briefly, and opened seconds later to throw James a hurt look, while looking tremendously embarrassed in front of the prefects. "The meeting's dismissed," she told them, "Go on. Go." The prefects quickly dispersed to escape her wrath.

Derrick seemed to linger behind much too long for James' liking. "What are you sticking around for?" James snapped at him. "Leave!" With an impassive gaze, Derrick left the Great Hall, just as James was about to strangle him by the neck, but was restrained by Lily.

"What is your problem?" she hissed in his ear, trying to keep her voice down in such a public place. James actually picked her fingers off his arm, recoiling. Lily frowned; he never recoiled from her.

"I saw you," James said, in such a vicious tone that it made Lily physically take a step back. She knew almost immediately what he was talking about, and felt guilty, but was blinded by the fact that James hadn't trusted her enough.

"You….you followed me?" she sputtered, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, obviously you need to be followed when you say you're going to see Professor McGonagall and end up going in empty classrooms with ex-boyfriends!"

"It's not what you think, James, And can we not discuss it here, please," Lily said, fully aware there were many eyes on them; professors included.

"I think we need to discuss it, here and now!" James pointed to the floor angrily.

Lily shook her head, "I'm not going to talk about this with you when you're like this. Not when you're this mad to the point of irrational. There's no point because I won't be able to get through to you—"

"What happened in that classroom, Lily?" James practically roared.

Lily tried to keep her voice low to a minimum. "I'll talk to you when you've calmed down," she told him quietly, making her way out of the hall.

James shouted at her retreating back. "Lily! Lily, we're not done here! Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

Lily froze, and James instantly wanted to take back his words, to some extent.

"Don't speak to me like I'm one of the Marauders you can walk all over."

With a final pointed glare, Lily spun her heel, and strode out of the hall.

Frank and Peter had to physically pin James to the floor before he attempted to hurl a first year at the breakfast table.

----------

Sirius was looking at Remus, but Remus was looking at the sunrise through the cracked window of the shack. The night of the full moon was over, both boys back to human form. Remus was injured; bleeding in places as usual. He had to hold onto his stomach so not pass out. Sirius told him they should get back to the Hospital wing, but Remus wanted to watch the sun a little longer.

"Are you coming back to the Marauders yet?" Sirius asked.

Remus continued to look at the sun – at least, not directly at it, as that would cause serious damage to the eyes. "It's only been a day since I left."

"So? Just come back anyway. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

Remus was silent, so Sirius took that as an answer of it being too soon.

"Okay," Sirius pressed no further on that matter, "well, at least come to Hogsmeade with me and the boys this weekend, yeah?"

"I can't."

"God," Sirius was beginning to get irritated, "Why not?"

"I promised I'd go with Georgina." Remus' voice came across as faint, which could've been because of the amount of pain he was in and how much his stomach had felt like it was been eaten away; or it could've been because of how greatly he didn't want to answer Sirius' question. Remus had turned his gaze off the window, now trying to read his friend's indescribable expression.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked, a little embarrassed, "I don't like her the way you think—"

"I'm fine with it," Sirius got up from the floorboards, raking a hand through his hair, quite uncharacteristically, "Take her, have fun."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Remus asked yet again.

"Of course I am," Sirius answered, much too quickly and enthusiastically, "I'm Sirius Black. I'm not fazed by anything and put on a happy face and everything's fine." He pulled a weak smile, "I don't even know how you can ask me about my condition when you're bleeding; lets get you to Madam Pom-Poms."

"You don't—" Remus had to stop as his stomach became tight and he coughed; coughed red. He tried again, "You don't have to help me—aauuugh!" He cried out in pain, feeling his sight blur. Almost instantaneously, Sirius reached out for him and pulled him up, slinging one of his arms over his shoulder to support him.

"Madam Pom-Pom's gonna love cleaning you up," Sirius said, making the slow journey back to the castle.

-----------

Another letter from him.

Love me without fear
Trust me without questioning
Need me without demanding
Want me without restrictions
Accept me without change
Desire me without inhibitions
For a love so free...
Will never fly away.

Lily stared at the parchment. It didn't make sense; the Half-blood Prince made no sense. One minute he was threatening her life, the next he was telling her to love him? Did this guy have multiple personal personalities?

It had been barely minutes since Lily had retired to her dorm that night, after changing into her nightclothes and glaring up at the ceiling, when she heard an irritable knock at her door. She automatically knew it was James, climbed out of her bed with a sigh, and swung the door open.

It had been the first time they'd seen each other, or at least talked, since breakfast this morning. Lily stared at James' lips that were determinedly pursed into a straight line, showing clearly he was furious. It was a waste, Lily had thought, since he had such nice plump lips.

"Are you ready to discuss this like adults?" Lily asked. James breathed ferociously through his nostrils, passing Lily into her dorm without asking whether he was allowed inside. He searched around the room, his breath ragged and wild. The day had not been good for James; he had hoped Sirius had convinced Remus to come back to the Marauders, but it seemed as though he needed more time away.

"Need. To fucking. Throw something…."

Lily looked at him strangely. "What?"

James spotted a bra sticking out a drawer, grabbed it, and then hurled it at a wall.

"Did…did you just throw my bra?" Lily looked at him with incomprehension, and then realized, "Oh, you're in that mood where you throw things relentlessly."

James grabbed a pair of spotted knickers and hurled it at the other wall.

"Will you please stop throwing my underwear?"

James faced her head-to-head, and whispered, "I saw you," his stare severe and unmoving.

"It's not that what you think," Lily talked over him.

"Tell me what I think, Lily," James said, crossing his arms.

"I'm thinking…you're thinking I'm seeing someone else—"

"You admit it!" James pointed the finger at her.

"I didn't admit it! There's nothing to admit!"

"You just said you cheated on me!"

"No, I said what I thought you were thinking! Stop twisting my words!"

James made to grab another piece of underwear, but Lily stopped him with a gentle touch to the arm, hoping her contact would calm him down.

"We were just talking," she said quietly.

"About what, Lily?" James asked her, and she didn't answer. "Lily, talk to me. Don't talk to him, talk to me."

"I don't want you to worry."

James' voice rose deafeningly. "You're worrying me by not telling me what's worrying you!"

"I'm just…in a little bit of trouble, and I thought Derrick could give me some answers, but he didn't," Lily ended bitterly.

"What kind of trouble? For Merlin's sake, Lily, let me help you!"

She refused to answer his question. "Why can't you just trust me enough to believe that I can sort this out on my own?" she yelled, her face now resembling the color of her hair.

"Because I really don't think you're strong enough to."

Lily was livid. "Oh, I'm weak am I? I've had enough being called a Mudblood in the past to have you saying I'm not able to handle myself without a male sticking up for me—"

"I'm just trying to help you!"

"It doesn't involve you, James; it's not your problem-"

"Of course it's my fucking problem!" James roared angrily, "I love you, you stupid woman!"

Lily shouted back, with a tone just as infuriated to match, "Well, I love you too, you bloody wanker!"

"Well, aren't we right pair of peas in a sodding pod of shite!"

The room fell silent, as the couple stared hard at one another, until Lily could no longer keep a straight face as she broke into chortles.

"We're what?" she enquired, arching a brow.

"I believe I just said," James raked a hand through his hair, feeling a smile creep on, "we're a pair of peas in a pod of…"

"Shite," Lily finished, nodding as she grinned. "That's lovely of you to say." Again, she tried to keep a straight face, for her little of sanity at least, but it was too late as she doubled over in laughter. James quickly joined in with her, not believing he'd used such an odd phrase and why he found it so terribly amusing.

"Aren't you worried by what just happened?" Lily asked suddenly, turning serious. "We're having a major argument and we're laughing."

James chortled even more. "I don't know about you, but I'm incredibly turned on right now."

Lily looked at him absurdly, "How on earth could you find perversity in what just happened? We were bellowing at each other, James, it was scary. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm positively furious at you right now."

"I'm pretty sure I'm positively furious at you right now, as well."

After some heated eye contact, the two stood close to one another, oddly appearing like two children; strangers in a playground. It wasn't long before James was cupping her face with his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Am I allowed to kiss you when we're arguing and I'm really, really angry with you?" James whispered.

"I think it's permitted, though I'm mutually angry with you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Cautiously, James nipped a small kiss from her lips, and then pulled back a little, as if to observe her reaction and what would occur next. In that instant, it seemed like all anger with each other was forgotten – or at least generated to make intensely gratifying kisses subsequently happen, with the reminder that the person they were kissing had previously infuriated them to the full. Somehow, that reminder made it more enjoyable, and Lily slipped her arms more securely around James' neck, pulling him closer for warmth.

"Merlin, you taste gorgeous," James took all his strength to not voice the taste, and failed handsomely, nose-to-nose with her. "Minty," he recognized.

"New toothpaste. I keep swallowing it by accident, all the while praying it doesn't stick in my stomach for ten years." She wanted to detail the toothpaste ingredients she learnt from reading the tube one time when she was sitting on the toilet, but James shut her up with hungry kissing, which she happily accepted. She could feel his hand soothe the arch of her back, feeling pleasant shivers. As an attempt to bring her closer to him, though the contact between the two was so intimate they were practically molded into one person, James picked her up off her a feet a little, but only resulted in stumbling back into a wooden drawer, where the objects on top clattered at the impact of the bash.

"Bugger," James cursed. He tried to settle his back into the surface as Lily kissed his earlobe, but only ended up crying out in pain, "Auugh."

"What?" Lily asked worriedly.

"Sorry. Bloody drawer knob sticking into my back."

They tried to maneuver themselves across the room, stumbling and slipping on strewn objects on the floor, but it was clear they couldn't stand and kiss forever. This much ravenous kissing was tired work and they needed surfaces to lean against or at least some comfortable seating (though it wasn't as if their activity was like riding a bus). Soon after, they bumped into another object, and Lily fell back onto it, while James tumbled right on top of her, every inch of his body touching hers – which was particularly hard for Lily as James sported nothing but a bare chest and boxers. The two quickly broke apart.

"We've appeared to have moved levels of stature," James said, looking down at Lily.

She wasn't quite sure what to say, so responded with a wary, "Yes."

"To your bed," James added.

"Yes," Lily said again.

James blinked. "We've never snogged on your bed before," he stated. "Or any bed, for that matter."

"Yes."

James wasn't sure what Lily was saying yes to, but carried on, "Because snogging on your bed, or any bed, would lead to—"

"Yes."

"And we haven't done that before."

"Yes." Lily really wanted to stop saying yes, but she'd become so familiar with the word she couldn't stop.

"If we stay on the bed any longer, it might lead to—"

"Yes."

Neither seemed to be getting up soon.

"The bed's rather comfy, don't you think?"

Lily wanted to say something different this time.

"Yes." She slapped her forehead. Hoping to say something drastically diverse, she added, "It is."

As pathetic as it sounded, James couldn't seem to take not kissing her when he was in such close proximities. Yet again, he nipped a kiss, and then waited impatiently for a reaction and what would come from it. Naturally, it led to the hungry kissing like before, and breathing became deeper. The soft touch of his hand sliding up her shirt challenged her to pull back to her senses.

"James," Lily tried to address him. His kisses felt like whispering in the mouth. "James," she tried again, and he reluctantly released her, brushing his forehead against hers. "Shouldn't we be arguing?"

James beamed, "I prefer this."

"Well, of course you'd prefer this—"

"And you prefer this."

Lily could feel herself reddening, both from the heat James was radiating, and his intense gaze. "Well, of course I prefer this." The touch of James' hand on her stomach tickled her. "I thought we were discussing Derrick—"

"I really couldn't give a toss about Derrick," James told her. He brushed her somewhat damp hair, wet from sweat, out of her eyes, breathing his labored, hot breaths onto her skin.

"Neither do I," Lily told him firmly, "You know that, right?"

James looked at her, debating on whether to respond, but eventually answered, "Yeah, I do."

"You're not just saying that?"

James drew soft circles with his finger on her stomach, under her shirt, making Lily's mouth grow into a smile. "I'm not just saying that," he promised, kissing her forehead.

"Do you…" Lily swallowed. "Do you think you'll regret this in the morning?" she asked, clutching his hand so tightly her nails tug into his palm.

"I'm pretty sure regret is something that'll be the last thing on my mind, orange peel," he smiled at her, "You really do give me heart palpitations—"

"Don't say that," Lily quickly cut across him, looking worried.

"Why?" James squeezed her hand back. "It's true."

"Well," a smirk suddenly appeared on Lily, "You give me coronary attacks," she teased him.

"Oh, we're playing that game are we? You give me liver failure."

Lily laughed, "You're awful."

"Indigestion, stomach cramps," James listed, "Headaches, flu…"

"I obviously give you verbal diarrhea, too," Lily smirked, shooting him a look to hush. On command, James silenced, and shut the bed curtains with a flick of the wand. The room plunged into darkness and the Half Blood Prince's letter lay forgotten on the floor, for now…