Ch 1: Head Boy

"Write us often," Mum says.

I kiss her on the cheek. "Don't I always, Mum?"

Dad laughs. "I think only every day would be often enough for your mother."

Mum looks offended. "Lily's my baby! And such a big year she has in front of her! Those NEWT tests and Head Girl duties… oh, I'm so proud of you, sweetie!" I always hear the capital letters of "Head Girl" when Mum says it. Really, she's more thrilled that I'm Head Girl than I am. And unlike me, she thinks Dumbledore has made just the right choice.

"I know Mum," I grumble, but really, I'm grateful for her belief and pride in me. Goodness knows my inferiority complex could use all the bolstering it could get, even if it is from my mother. "And I'll try to write more this year, though I may be too busy to get a letter home every day."

"You do what you have to do, kiddo." Dad ruffles my hair and pecks me on the cheek. "Just keep that busyness confined to school stuff. I don't need any more boys in our family right now!" I grin at him. Neither of us are fond of Petunia's boyfriend Vernon who unfortunately seems more and more like he might become a permanent fixture in our family.

But the mood dips a little at the subtle reminder of Petunia. She isn't here, obviously – she's refused to come send me off for the last two years – but still, the fact that she's barely said anything to me all summer hurts and somehow seems more prominent in this family-centric moment.

"I'll try and keep my distance, Dad. Fight off all those suitors who have been hounding me for the last several years." I let the sarcasm bleed into my words. I went on like two dates last year. Once Potter stopped mock-asking me out all the time after fifth year, my date invitations have been pretty low on the ground.

"Well, don't scare them all away, Lils. I wouldn't mind you bringing round a nice bloke to balance us out. I know your friends think highly of that James Potter… maybe this'll be your year?" Mum's eyes twinkle mischievously. She's heard plenty about Potter. MERLIN, I can't stand him.

"Mum!" I roll my eyes. "I'm going to take that as my cue to leave. I want to beat the prefects to the train anyway."

Thankfully, neither of my parents continues the boy issue.

"We love you Lils!" Mum says, and Dad bear-hugs me.

"See you at Christmas!" I blow them a last kiss and head for the train door, pushing my trolley loaded with my trunk and my brand-new barn owl Barnaby, a Head Girl congratulatory present from Mum and Dad.

The train sits scarlet and alive on the tracks, billowing thick white smoke across the platform, obscuring my fellow Hogwarts peers. I just get flashes of lives around me as I walk: a first year girl already in her robes, begging her parents to write her, the hiss of a cat, protesting being shoved in a basket, the raucous laughter of a recently reunited gaggle of Hufflepuff fourth years.

A train attendant helps me load my trunk. I send one last wave to my parents and then I disappear onto the train.

Once I board the train, I go straight to the carriage at the very front. It's the prefects' carriage, and as soon as the train gets moving and they've all got themselves settled, all the House prefects will gather here for the traditional "Hogwarts Express Pre-School Prefect Meeting." It's really no big deal – mainly welcoming the new prefects, and introducing the new Heads (myself and whoever Head Boy is), and going over the importance of watching over the new first years tonight at dinner and helping them find their way to their new common rooms and answering their questions and such, and setting up rounds for the first week before we have our first real meeting, and then scheduling that meeting. Really, not a big deal. Typical Head duties. Just the first of many for the year. No problem.

Then why the heck am I so nervous?!

Honestly. What Dumbledore was thinking, making me Head Girl! Certainly someone else could have done a better job. Everyone knows Carol Singer was a popular choice for Head Girl, even though she wasn't a prefect. Carol's in my year and most people like or (and?) fear her. We don't get along. But even someone like Angela Stoker from Ravenclaw would have been a better choice. She's so… responsible. And mature. And organized. And so bloody smart. Definitely good qualities for a Head Girl.

I suppose people might think I'm those things. I do get good grades. But only because I work my bloody butt off! And because I only just get away with things. Really, me, organized? The notion is laughable! I'm always misplacing things! It's only because Emmeline and Alice take such good care of me and are always finding my missing things – assignments, books, quills – that I get anything turned in. What good mates I have.

I do, however, want to be there early so that I can be prepared. Dumbledore is counting on me, after all. Plus, I'm sure Head Boy, whoever he is, will be thinking along the same lines as me and we can go over things before the prefects show up.

At least, I hope.

I wonder again who he is. Why doesn't Dumbledore let me know these things ahead of time? Now that would make sense. Hmph.

I've reached the compartment. Through the frosted glass, I can see that someone is already inside, but I can't tell who it is. I slide the door open and the person grins up at me, one hand casually ruffling his jet-black hair in an all-too-familiar and irritating motion.

"Hey Evans."

I actually stop in the doorway. This is not happening. I can't deal with his antics right now. My stomach is already tangled with nerves and I've no patience for Potter of all people to crash my very first Head duty. I rub my face agitatedly and force myself to take a couple of deep breaths before speaking in a carefully controlled voice. I'm very pleased with how calm I sound.

"Potter. I need you to leave this compartment, this where the prefects meet."

"I know." He makes no move to get up, just settles back more comfortably into his seat. "I think the Head Boy belongs at that meeting too?"

Head… Boy?

Wait.

No.

Nononono no. This can't be right. My eyes go immediately to his shirt. He's wearing the Head Boy badge, I can see it gleaming silver on his chest now, but that really can't be right. This is obviously a prank. I try to think who he could have already seen and stolen the badge from this morning and the answer comes easily. Remus. Of course, the Head Boy badge, it must be Remus's.

Yes, that has to be right. Remus is my fellow Head and he and Potter thought it'd be a good laugh to pretend Potter was going to be my year-long partner, giving me a heart attack and/or some stress-related health problem along the way. Yes, that makes much more sense. After all, Potter's never been a prefect, and while being a prefect isn't a requirement, it's much more likely that a prefect becomes a Head than anyone else.

In fact, it's much more likely that anyone become Head than James Potter.

"Ha ha, very funny," I say, rolling my eyes. "Now go get Remus and give him his badge back. I need to talk to him before the prefects get here so we can have a game plan." I huff out a breath, relieved but also a little annoyed at Remus. I wouldn't put this prank past any of the Marauders, but Remus? I thought we were better friends than that. He should know better than to prank me like this on the first day. My poor heart. I whole-heartedly intend on giving him a stern talking-to when he gets here.

"You really don't believe I'm Head Boy?" I raise my eyebrows at him. Potter chuckles. "Remus will be along, just not as Head Boy. Now, I've never been to one of these, remember, so I suggest you and I talk quickly so that we can, as you say, 'have a game plan.'" He looks at me expectantly, face spread wide with his usual cocky grin.

I gnaw the inside of my cheek, silently fuming and not at all believing him yet. I also clench my fists because I'm afraid I might hit him and that would not be good. I definitely want to, though.

But Potter just stares steadily at me, the cockiness fading away (though the amusement certainly doesn't). "Really Evans," he finally says, "I would like some direction before we start this meeting. I honestly don't know what to do, except the little I've learned from Moon – Remus the last two years."

I really don't want this to be true. But Remus isn't here and I believe him to be just responsible enough that he wouldn't let the prank go one this long. Remus may be a Marauder, but he also holds some value from responsibility and honest work. Some.

"You're really Head Boy?"

"Yes."

"That badge came for you."

"Yes."

"Addressed to James Potter, not Remus Lupin."

"That's correct."

"And this really isn't one of your pranks?"

"Evans." Potter sounds half-amused, half-exasperated. "Do you really think everything I do has to be a prank?"

Honestly? Yeah, I kind of do. But he seems so sincere and I really don't have time for this and I'm pretty sure Remus wouldn't let this joke go on this long so…

I sigh. "Fine. I'm still not one hundred percent sure that you're telling the truth, but I don't have time for this. Here's what you need to know. I was thinking we'd introduce ourselves and go over, you know, what an honor it is to be chosen -" here I glare at Potter "- because it IS a huge honor to be chosen." Potter looks offended and opens his mouth, probably to argue, but I plow on. "Then we can overview expected duties. And we'll set a date for the first prefects meeting sometime next week..."

"Actually, I was thinking you'd better just take the lead today since I don't know anything," Potter says, finally managing to get a word in by just talking loudly over me. "I'll chime in occasionally so hopefully I don't look like a complete idiot."

I look at him suspiciously. He seems sincere. "Fine. But I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you are messing with me and screw this up..."

Potter scowls and opens his mouth to retort but just then the compartment door slides open and the prefects start trickling in. Potter still looks mutinous but seems to think better of arguing in front of everyone.

The only good thing about the last few minutes is that I was too upset over Potter to remember my nerves but as the compartment fills up, they return in direct correlation to how full the room gets.

Fantastic.

First, most of the 5th year prefects trickle in, keen not to be late on their first day of duties. Cute. I remember being like that. The sixth and seventh years are much more relaxed. Remus comes in with Emmeline, who is replacing me as 7th Year Gryffindor prefect and is one of my best mates. I'm still kind of hoping that when Remus comes, he'll take his place with me, and he and Potter will congratulate themselves that they manage to fool Lily Evans into actually believing Dumbledore would make Potter Head Boy, but I'm disappointed. Remus comes in, and while he walks over to Potter and there is laughter from the pair of them, there is no badge swapping and none of said laughter is directed at me.

Dang it.

Emmeline widens her eyes when she sees Potter with me and shoots me an amused, questioning look. I just roll my eyes and half shrug, half nod. She grins. She knows exactly what I'm thinking about this whole Heads arrangement. My parents aren't the only ones who have heard my James Potter woes. In fact, Emmeline and the other girls have definitely heard far, far more.

But I can't focus on that right now because the last of the Slytherin prefects have made their way to the meeting and we are ready to start. I pull the piece of parchment I wrote all my meeting notes down on earlier this morning from my pocket where'd I'd been obsessively creasing it with my thumbnail along the folds. Now I wish I hadn't. The stupid thing doesn't want to unfold now.

I stand and clear my throat. The friendly chatter dies down rather suddenly and all eyes shift to me, though they frequently dart to look at Potter.

"Right," I say. Thankfully, no voice crack. Yet. "Welcome to the new year! And welcome to all our new fifth year prefects. We're excited to have you with us. My name is Lily Evans. I'm from Gryffindor and I'll be Head Girl this year. And this is –" I break off, realizing the least I can do is let Potter introduce himself. Not that he needs to introduce himself, not really. As all the prefects have been trickling in, there's already been a lot of whisperings and excited and surprised glances his way. I wasn't the only one surprised Potter got chosen as Head Boy. I'm just apparently the only one not thrilled about it.

"I'm James Potter, also from Gryffindor, and I'm Head Boy this year." There's actually

applause after he introduces himself, like he's some sort of celebrity. Come on people! He's just a guy. Maybe he's somewhat talented on a broomstick and the driving quarter of the famed Marauders and he's attractive – apparently – but really. Like we need to applaud for him. I feel an odd moment of comradery with the older Slytherin prefects who also aren't applauding. We may not get along and they may actually hate me and my blood status but at least we share mutual low tolerance for Potter.

Potter grins ruefully at the applause. When it dies down, he says, "Thanks guys, but really, you'll all have to bear with me for the first couple weeks. As you know, I wasn't a prefect, so I've got a lot to learn. But no worries. Lily's going to be a fantastic Head and you should all probably defer to her."

More applause, but this time it's for me. And while it's maybe not as enthusiastic as Potter's applause, it's just as sincere. And the Slytherins still don't applaud. My kinship with them evaporates. I'm also momentarily bewildered, by the unexpected appreciation and Potter's compliment and did he just call me Lily? What the heck?

"Er… right," I say. "Anyways…" and I spend the rest of the meeting briefly outlining expectations for the year. Giving and taking points, not abusing power, taking turns doing evening rounds, reporting to Potter or I, not being lenient with friends, watching over the first years, especially tonight as they will need help getting to their new dorms. And Potter stands next to me the whole time and just lets me talk, not making one sarcastic remark the whole time. I do my best to pretend he's not there so I'm not constantly worrying that he will say something stupid.

"So that just about sums it up!" I conclude finally. Then I reluctantly turn to Potter. "Anything you want to add?"

"Prefect meeting next week?"

"Oh. Right!" I turn back to the group. "We need a meeting next week to set up rounds and address any problems or concerns that arise between now and then. I know some of you have clubs and Quidditch practice so which evenings work for you guys?"

Apparently, this is not the right way to open up this conversation. Everyone begins talking at one.

Emmeline says, "Not Tuesdays or Thursday, I already know I'll be doing tons of homework those evenings.

Julie Mackey, Ravenclaw, immediately expresses opposition to Monday evenings when her study group meets. And Slytherin Quidditch captain Flint says, "My team practices Wednesday evenings."

"Friday?" I propose tentatively, but some Slytherin 6th year girl lets out a shrill disdainful laugh.

"Yeah, cause we all want to spend our Friday evening in a Prefects Meeting."

Nobody else says anything, but the body language in the compartment speaks in volumes that everyone is thinking the same. The Gryffindors won't meet my eyes and most are nodding their agreement. I'm floundering and starting to get annoyed. Never a good sign.

"Well, we have to choose a time –" I begin, a little forcefully.

"I thought we could meet Sunday night since Sunday evenings are generally pretty quiet and we could be all prepared for the start of the next week." I'm shocked that it's Potter that speaks and that it's actually as a voice of reason. And right away I see the wisdom of this proposition. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself in the first place.

Immediately everyone's expressions clear and there's general consensus among everyone. Even the Slytherin sixth year is nodding like she can't see fault with a Sunday evening meeting.

"Sunday good with everyone, then?" Potter asks. There's a murmur of assent and he grins. "Perfect. We'll see you all next Sunday. What's a good time, Lily?"

"Umm, we usually meet at 7:30?"

Potter turns back to the other Prefects. "7:30, next Sunday, the - " he counts the date quickly in his head - "eleventh. Good luck with your first week! And don't forget to help those first years tonight."

And just like that, the meeting's over. And Potter has closed it. I don't know whether to feel irritated or surprised and I'm caught somewhere in between. The prefects file out quicker than they entered. Emmeline scurries over to me. I know she can hardly wait to tell Marlene and Alice about the Head Boy situation. Great. The three of them will positively attack me when Emmeline and I get to our compartment and she spills the news.

"Nicely done, Lil." She says and hugs me.

"Thanks Em," and I throw my arms around her. I'm suddenly thrilled to see her and the rest of my mates, Potter jibes waiting or not.

"Although I think you'll have your hands full with your fellow Head." Emmeline doesn't even try to hide her amusement, though she does drop her voice. Her eyes shift over my shoulder to where I know Potter must be standing. "Oh! Here he comes!"

I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, Potter and Remus have made their way over to Em and I.

"Congratulations Lily," Remus says, nodding at me.

"Thanks," I say. There's a momentary pause where I want to congratulate him, but can't because stupid Potter is Head, not Remus. "Umm, well, Emmeline and I are going to get going."

And the pair of us start towards the door.

"So, see you around, Evans?"

I cast a confused glance over my shoulder. "Yeah, sure, whatever, Potter."

"You know, 'cause we're both Heads now, I just figured we'd have to spend time together now and then."

I frown. "I'm sure there are ways around that."

Remus laughs loud enough at that that I almost – ALMOST – miss Potter's final comment to me as Emmeline and I make our way out of the compartment.

"You did really well, Evans."