DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 3: Sixth Year

"I'm still not very happy with you," Lily muttered under her breath to Remus as they joined up outside the prefects' carriage.

"Listen, I'm sorry about snapping at you, all right?" Remus said softly. "I was in an exceptionally bad mood that day, my temper was short enough as it was."

"Did you have to go to McGonagall?" Lily asked peevishly. "Notice I didn't report you for deliberate ignorance of bullying. Or for missing prefects' meetings on numerous occasions, skipping out on your duties, being out of the tower at weird hours, missing classes… I notice you never seem to miss a Quidditch practice or a Quidditch game."

"Lily," Remus said in frustration, running his hand through his tousled hair. "Lily, would you listen for five minutes?" Sighing, he yanked her into a spare compartment and closed the door.

Lily tried to stop her heart from pounding a hundred miles a minute. Remus wouldn't dare try anything in the middle of a crowded train. Remus would never try anything at all, what was she saying?

"Sorry," he added as he caught the way she had paled at his actions. "Can't have anyone overhearing." He shoved his hands in his pockets in a sort of miserable resignation. "You have to swear you're going to keep what I'm about to say a secret. Nobody knows except James and Sirius and Peter. Nobody is supposed to know. I mean, the teachers have to know, obviously, but none of the students are supposed to know."

"What is it?" Lily asked in exasperation. "I suppose you're about to tell me you're a werewolf or something and that's why you're missing all that stuff?"

Remus chewed at his lower lip. Then he nodded. "I am a werewolf, Lily. Have been since I was 2. Professors were booking games around full moon last year, that's why I never missed one. And James purposely schedules practices the same way. But they can't do that with the prefects' meeting and things like that."

Lily stared at him in shock. "You're actually serious." Remus nodded again, fear in his eyes as he watched her. He was waiting for her reaction. "But… child werewolves aren't supposed to have enough magic to qualify for school," she said, somewhat stupidly.

"I know, I'm a bit of an unusual case," Remus mumbled, relief flooding his face as he realized she wasn't going to shun him.

First night back… she should've seen it coming.

Lily slipped quietly into the prefects' bathroom, aching from head to toe again. Two more years of this… two entire years. Without a sound, she went straight to the hidden bruise remover and took it out. She started to put it on, resigning herself to another year of little sleep.

"Wow, that's a nasty shiner you got there," came Potter's comment from behind her. Lily jumped in surprise and whirled around. He emerged from the same corner he had been in the last night they had met in here – only this time he was injured as well. Blood was soaking through the side of his t-shirt, and he had scratches and bruises on his face and arms. He was limping.

"I'm not even going to comment on your current state," Lily replied curtly, turning away. "What'd you do?"

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies," Potter replied in an equally curt voice. He muttered a spell of some kind and pointed his wand at his bloodied side, sighing as it did virtually nothing to stem the bleeding. "Curse it all…" he muttered under his breath. He bit back a string of swears as he nearly lost his balance on his bad foot.

"You ought to go to Madam Pomfrey," Lily said, still dabbing on bruise remover.

"Can't," Potter replied tersely. "I'd have to explain where I got them."

"Out on illegal jaunts in the moonlight, are we?" Lily asked loftily, glancing out the window at the full moon. Then she frowned. "Nobody knows except James and Sirius and Peter… I am a werewolf, Lily."

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies," Potter repeated, flinching as he accidentally jabbed his sliced side with his wand.

Lily started to feel slight pity for him – or at least for Remus, who would doubtlessly be guilty in the morning over Potter's physical state. She sighed and set aside her bruise remover. "Sit down before you pass out," she finally sighed.

Potter frowned at her, but did as she ordered. Lily knelt down beside him, trying to gently pry the t-shirt away from the wound. "You were out with Remus, weren't you?" she asked softly. When Potter's frown deepened, she looked up. "Remus told me this morning about his…"

"Furry little problem?" Potter asked dryly, gasping sharply as Lily managed to tear the cloth away from his side. "What'd you do to make him tell, threaten to get McGonagall to take away his badge?"

Lily didn't reply, but said instead, "This is going to hurt," before she used one of the healing spells she had picked up over the course of the years to heal larger wounds – occasionally Slughorn got a little too rough and drew blood.

Potter bit back a yell of pain as she sharply prodded the wound, then he relaxed as he watched the wound slowly heal up. Soon all that remained was the dried blood surrounding a sharply defined, jagged scar. "Great, a scar," he muttered. "That's just perfect."

"It's not going to leave, Potter," Lily said scornfully. "It's a werewolf injury. And you're going to have to go to Madam Pomfrey now, you know," she added, turning her attention to his ankle, obviously broken. "You can't just hide the fact you got savaged by a transformed werewolf. What were you thinking? Or were you?"

"Don't pass judgment without the whole story, Evans," Potter replied tersely. "Let me handle my problems, all right? Looks like you've got your own to worry about, at any rate," he continued, getting to his feet and testing his healed ankle gingerly. "Thanks," he added grudgingly.

It became somewhat of a routine that year: occasionally, Lily would escape to the prefects' bathroom after she left Slughorn and she would find Potter in there again, sometimes with injuries he was attempting to heal, sometimes just sitting. They exchanged their usual 'What happened to you?' and every once in a while, something that wasn't dripping with sarcasm.

She learned a lot about James Potter. She learned that his mother had died that morning in June, after years of serious illness ("before I was even born, she wasn't supposed to be able to have children…"), that his father, too, was ill – losing his mental sharpness and his common sense along with his weakening physical state ("doesn't recognize me every once in a while, he's convinced I'm a house-elf from time to time…"). She learned that he had been handling the family affairs for years, since fourth year, when he was 15. That every once in a while ("not often, mind…"), he wanted to just be alone, away from people, to think.

To her shock, Lily felt her attitude and heart begin to change towards him. His life hadn't been any easier than hers, just in different ways. And he expressed those frustrations of helplessness in his situation in different ways. Really, they weren't all that different.

One early morning in April, Lily was finishing applying the last of her bruise remover to her face while James (she'd come to start thinking of him as 'James', not as 'Potter') stood leaning against a nearby wall, watching her careful process. Then he said quietly, "Slughorn did that to you, didn't he?"

Lily froze, eyes flicking over to him. "What makes you think that?" she asked with some difficulty.

"Whenever you come in here at this hour, it's always after you've been to see Slughorn," James replied, a slight tremor of – was that anger? – in his voice. "What is he doing to you? Just… beating you, for the fun of it?"

She wanted to tell. She wanted to tell so badly, but even if she could, how would James react? What would his response be?

James watched her struggling face silently. Then he said, "There's more, isn't there? He's put some kind of charm or spell on you, to stop you from saying anything."

Lily felt the tears started to well up, and she tried desperately to say 'yes'. But nothing came out of her mouth. She tensed when James approached slowly, frowning at the bruises on her arms.

"Don't panic," he said softly, keeping a respectful distance as he gently started to place his hands around her arms, matching up the bruises with his fingertips and palms. "I'm not going to do anything to you," he said as he put two and two together at sight of the angry red mark on her neck. He released her arms and Lily instinctively backed away, heart pounding. "How long has he been doing this to you?" he asked, voice shaking.

Lily fought enormously against the spells, and finally she whispered, "Since first year." She averted her eyes from the thunderstruck look on James' face.

Gasping involuntarily as he caught her face in one hand, Lily tried to force herself to relax as James gently brought her face back up to look at him. "You're telling me this has been going on for six years?" he asked softly, hazel eyes boring into her own emerald eyes. Slowly, as she fought and won against the spells again, Lily nodded. Lip quivering, she knew that she was about to crack. "Lily," he said, and she noticed how right it sounded when he said her name, "how often does he do this?"

She said in a barely audible voice, "Two or three times a week," tears spilling over her cheeks as she let him pull her into his arms. Somehow, that felt just as right.

"Miss Evans," Professor McGonagall said quietly at breakfast one sunny morning in mid-May.

Lily looked up, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't what she thought it was for. Filch and Mrs. Norris had nearly caught her returning to Gryffindor Tower last night – had he told McGonagall? "Yes, Professor?"

"Come with me, please," McGonagall replied.

Lily's heart was sinking fast.

"Miss Evans, I told you last year if I caught wind of any more reports of you breaking curfew, I would be taking away your prefect badge," McGonagall told her, disappointment in her eyes. "Mr. Filch has been to see me. It seems that he caught you outside the tower last night, yet you managed to evade him."

Lily bit her lip, nodding as she fixed her eyes on her feet.

"I won't attempt to disguise how disappointed I am in you, Miss Evans," McGonagall said quietly. "I believed you were above such things. Will you at least explain to me what you were doing outside the tower at that hour?"

Lily felt the spells begin to form an explanation when she was interrupted by a knock at the door and it opening. Looking behind her, she was surprised to see James standing there.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Professor, Lily," he said. "Professor, it's my fault that Lily was caught out of the tower."

Both McGonagall and Lily frowned sharply at him. What was he doing? He had nothing to do with it, and he knew it as well as they did.

"I know I shouldn't have done it," James added. "I was baiting her, just wanted to see if she would actually leave the tower. I didn't mean for her to get caught. Professor, she was only doing part of her prefect duty, she really shouldn't have her badge taken away. It's me that's at fault."

McGonagall eyed him suspiciously and Lily held her breath. It certainly sounded like something James would've done – she had to hand it to him, he could certainly concoct a story.

"Mr. Potter, I am very upset with your actions," McGonagall finally said severely. "However, that doesn't excuse Miss Evans' actions either."

Both James and Lily watched her in anticipation of continuance and mercy.

McGonagall eyed them both again and finally said, "Mr. Potter – detention, and fifty points from Gryffindor. Miss Evans – detention, and ten points from Gryffindor. You may retain your badge. I will not be so merciful if I ever catch you out of bed again. You are both dismissed."

"What'd you do that for?" Lily asked after McGonagall had closed her office door again. "You had nothing to do with last night."

James mussed his hair and mumbled, "If you're anything like Remus, you probably sleep with that badge and it'd be like losing your best friend to get it taken away…" he continued with something indistinct, though it was to the effect of 'didn't want to see you like that'.

Lily bit her lip and gave him a smile. Then, impulsively, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, James," she said and took off to go find Dani and Persia, leaving James standing in the middle of a deserted corridor in shock. She vaguely heard him say, in slight bewilderment, "A-a-any time, Lily."

On the last evening before summer break started, Lily slipped cautiously into the prefects' washroom. To her surprise, she found her bruise remover already out, with a little folded note on top of it. Frowning, she picked up the note and unfolded it. On it was a familiar scrawl, messy and oh-so-masculine, but elegant at the same time.

I hate to see you hurting, Lily. I'd much rather see that gorgeous smile of yours than tears, but I wish I knew how to make him stop. If you can overlook the fact that I'm a bit of an idiot, I'd like a chance to try and make it right. You know where to find me when you've made your decision.

Lily blinked back the tears in her eyes. As if she needed time to think. Sniffling, she turned around to face the dark corner that he always came out from. "Come here, James," she half-laughed, half-sobbed.

There was a soft, tentative smile on James' face as he emerged from the shadows. He looked momentarily startled, but then his face softened as she caught onto his t-shirt and buried her face into his chest.

"Thank you, James," she sniffled, finally emerging red-eyed from his chest. He gave her the same quiet, tentative smile as he caught her face gently in his hand. His eyes asked her silent permission, and once she had given it, he leaned in to kiss her.

Now this was what a kiss was supposed to be, Lily thought to herself as she slowly relaxed into his arms. Of course, she probably wasn't supposed to be crying.