Notes: Please R&R, my friends :)

Chapter 6

Dreams about monsters and angels haunted Lily's sleep the following nights. She found herself wandering uneasily through the corridors of Hogwarts or her parents' house, her father and mother walking in and out of her visions. In the end she would always return to the courtyard under the full- moon's light, where the terrible werewolf would change shape into someone she knew; Severus, Petunia, Potter, Remus, or even herself.

In her waking hours she barely dared to contemplate the thought that lurked in the back of her head, the one that was with no doubt responsible for the strange dreams. She was angry at herself for daring to think something like that about a boy she considered to be her friend. So she spent all her free time researching the library about lycanthropy and werewolf laws, trying to figure out if one of Hogwarts's most beloved students might be one.

Remus Lupin has always been a mysterious boy. Lily attributed it the the fact that he was modest and a bit shy; She never thought there was anything darker behind it. When he told her that he had a rare magical disease she had respected and appreciated his honesty, and decided not to intrude on his privacy. Had he lied to her, taking advantage of her sympathy to hide his secret?

The morning after Lily's conversation with Potter in the library Remus didn't come down to breakfast with his friends. Potter told her he had to go home because of a family emergency. Lily did not believe him for a second, and was insulted that Remus had left in the dead of night without even saying goodbye. More than anything, she was angry that it made him look even more suspicious; The fact was she hadn't seen him at all since before the night she was attacked by the werewolf.

But soon she realized she had no right to blame him. The more she read about the laws in which werewolves were sentenced to exile or imprisonment in Azkaban for doing nothing at all, as she leafed through more and more horrific illustrations of the werewolf transformation and of his animalistic behavior during the full moon, the fear was replaced by pity.

Was this the secret Potter was keeping? Was he trying to protect his friend, who was turning into a dangerous beast every full moon? Was this why Remus had been missing so much classes, why he didn't befriend any other students besides his three friends? Was he afraid that his secret would be revealed and he would be outcast, marked as a monster and a hunted?

A sickening vision occurred to her as she leaned over an illustration of a man tearing off his own skin in suffering; She saw herself lying in a pool of blood in the stone courtyard at sunrise, and Remus kneeling over her, trying to catch her last breaths between his hands...

Her eyes blurred with tears. She slammed the book shut and wiped them off. Then a sudden feeling that she wasn't alone made her look over her shoulder – but she was completely alone in the library.

A few days after Remus left an owl arrived in the kitchen window while Lily was cleaning up after lunch. She untied the letter from it's leg and gave it water and food at the window. The letter was addressed to Mr. James Potter. Lily was supposed to give Potter the letter immediately, but she couldn't ignore an uncharacteristic urge to know who the letter was from. The official addressing indicated that the letter wasn't from Remus, but Lily still had an urge to learn as much as she could. She looked around the kitchen with the intention of secretly opening the letter and was startled when she saw Black watching her from the doorway.

"Good thing you checked," he said with a small smile. "It could've been embarrassing."

Lily felt herself blush with shame and pretended to arrange the jars on the shelf, hoping he wouldn't notice her reaction. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a bad liar," he said. Crossing the room with a light stride, he snatched the letter from Lily's hand. "Well, you're not a Mr, and you're definitely not James Potter."

She crossed her arms in defiance. "What if the letter was for me?"

"If it was for you, you wouldn't have looked so suspicious before you tried to open it," Black replied. McGonagall used to tell him that if he hadn't been so busy making trouble, he could have been intelligent. He snatched a green apple from a nearby bowl and bit into it with a satisfied look before leaving the kitchen.

Lily soon discovered who the letter was from, even without reading it. She hadn't even finished cleaning the kitchen when Mrs. Chambers came in like a storm wind and ordered her to fill a kettle and slice a pie from the stock in the pantry, because Albus Dumbledore was coming for tea.

Like most of the students at school, Lily loved and admired Dumbledore. He was a reassuring and paternal figure from the very first moment she had entered the Great Hall and saw him in the middle of the staff table, examining each student with appreciation above his glasses. As an outstanding student and a Perfect, Lily had a chance to spend time alone with him, and she was always amazed by his understanding, compassion, and sense of humor. So when she heard the doorbell ring she hurried to finish preparing the tea tray for Mrs. Chambers and ran into the hall.

Mrs. Chambers had just taken the Headmaster's rain- spotted robe. The wizard was dressed, as always, in a rich traditional wizard's robe that highlighted his striking appearance. Lily couldn't stop smiling at the sight of his lean old face that was surrounded by a halo of courage and youth.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Emilia, as always," Dumbledore said to Mrs. Chambers in a gentlemanly manner in which he treated all the women who were no longer his students.

"You too, Albus," Mrs. Chambers said with a smile, glad to see the Headmaster. "Mr. Potter is waiting for you in the study, if you'll follow me."

"Of course," he replied. Then he noticed Lily, who stood shyly in the dinning room doorway. He smiled at her kindly and didn't seem particularly surprised when he asked, "Miss Evans, what are you doing here?"

"I'm helping Mrs. Chambers during the summer," Lily replied. "Nice to see you, Professor."

"You too, Miss Evans. How is your father?"

"Well," Lily replied hopefully, radiating the confidence that the Headmaster had instilled in her without even doing anything special.

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Potter is waiting for me."

"Sir, wait," she called after him as he climbed the stairs beside Mrs. Chambers. He turned patiently to her. "Can I ask you a question about school?"

Dumbledore motioned her with nod.

"Would you accept to school a student that was a werewolf?"

"It depends on the student, I think," Dumbledore replied patiently. "Many werewolf are unjustly persecuted. However, there are also many who adopt the animalistic nature that society sets upon them. Why do you ask?"

Lily hadn't planned the conversation to that point. "I'm writing an essay," she exclaimed. "The place of werewolves and vampires in the wizarding community."

Who's a bad liar now, Black?

"Good work," Dumbledore praised her. The spark in his eyes suggested that he could see through the lie, but he said nothing.

Lily watched him go up the stairs with relief. The fact that he didn't reject the possibility out- right and the knowing spark in his eyes made it clear that it wasn't impossible that one of the students at Hogwarts was a werewolf. And if there was a Headmaster who would take in a student like that, knowing that he wasn't just a werewolf but also a talented wizard, it was Dumbledore.

The two disappeared up the stairs. Lily wondered, not for the first time that day, what horrible thing Potter had done that the Headmaster himself had to come to his house during the summer.

Driven by curiosity, she remembered finding a suspicious peaking hole that looked into the study as she cleaned the attic thoroughly. That day she was troubled by Severus' words and didn't bother to investigate the completely ordinary yet forbidden room, but now she was glad she had found it.

She went up the stairs quietly to avoid Mrs. Chambers' sharp hearing and turned to the narrow side steps in the side of the house that led to the attic. She opened the creaking ceiling door, proud of herself for her cunning – She didn't expect to find Black and Pettigrew lying on the floor near the peaking hole with and looking at her like they were caught in the act.

They looked at each other for a few moments, each wrestling with what to say or do. Lily was on the verge of fleeing. To Mrs. Chambers Black's status was almost like Potter's; If he decided to tell her Lily was spying after the Master she might get into serious trouble.

However, Black surprised her when he finally said in a quiet voice, like he was in a Muggle cinema – "We won't tell if you won't."

Lily accepted the offer without hesitation. She closed the door behind her cautiously and joined Black and Pettigrew silently. She felt she was doing something forbidden as she lay flat on the rough floor beside Black; She had never thought she would be collaborating with the Marauders. But soon she was so busy trying to decipher the words spoken in the room below that she almost forgot about the other two spectators.

The peaking hole was located in the top corner of the study, giving a wide view to the mysterious space that no one was allowed to enter except Potter and Mrs. Chambers. Its walls were covered with bookcases and glass displays that displayed charming and valuable items, except for the wide French window that overlooked a private garden. Against the background of the garden stood a magnificent wooden chair with the Potters' handsome and noble stag carved at it's head, it's antlers shaped to look like a crown on the head of whoever set in it.

The chair was empty, however. Potter and Dumbledore preferred to sit in the twin mahogany chairs at the other side of the desk. Dumbledore sat upright, his fingers folded coldly on his thin knees. Potter, on the other hand, folded his hands and legs in a defensive manner, his gaze fixed on the Headmaster as if he was preparing to defend himself from an attack.

Lily tried to listen to what was being said. Dumbledore seemed to be trying to get Potter to tell him how he was doing, but Potter didn't seem interested to talk about it.

"Why are you really here, Professor?" He finally asked. "I know it's not to check on me."

"You are right," Dumbledore said calmly. "I wish I had the time to visit every student who was experiencing difficulties, but unfortunately that's not why I'm here. Mr. Potter, I have come to warn you. You are stirring into dangerous waters."

Mrs. Chambers chose that moment to come in with a tea tray. There was a heavy silence as she poured the tea. Black began tapping his fingertips impatiently on the floor and Lily had to grip them so the noise wouldn't betray their location.

"Sorry," he whispered, distracted, "Say something already, you git!"

Mrs. Chambers left.

"How do you know that?" Potter said coldly as soon as the door closed. "Are you spying on me, or something like that?"

"No," Dumbledore replied, putting his cup aside after a few short sips. "However, I have received reports that your gardener had been seen in suspicious places. Unless he is a dark wizard, and I doubt that in light of his strong loyalty to your late father, it appears you have sent him to gather information about Voldemort's supporters."

Pettigrew choked at the name. Black silenced him, looking equally agitated, but not for the same reason. Potter, on the other hand, seemed entirely calm on the surface, though his arms were still tight against his chest.

"You got me," he said, as if he had pulled a harmless prank at school. His face was almost expressionless, his voice dead. Lily had never seen him so serious. "But collecting information about dark wizards isn't against the school's rules, so why are you here?"

"I'm not here to punish you, James," Dumbledore said softly. "I want to help you, and more importantly, warn you. Voldemort's powers run deeper than you know, and his supporters are much more dangerous than you think."

"I don't care about his supporters," Potter said with mounting anger. "I'm going to find out his weak spot, and then I'm going to kill him."

Lily shivered, her skin turning into goose-bums, as if Potter's cold voice was a frozen wind that blew through the attic. Black's eyes were blown wide by the light from the peaking hole.

"I understand that this is not something you want to hear," Dumbledore continued with infinite patience, unphased by Potter's words. "But revenge is not the solution. It will not give you back your parents."

Potter jumped to his feet as if he were ready to lunch at the Headmaster. "What am I supposed to do then, sit idly by and let him go on murdering people?!"

"No," Dumbledore said in a quiet, grave voice that didn't fall from Potter's raised voice. "But you can not help anyone if you fall on your sword."

"Fall on my sword?" Potter repeated the words furiously. "I can beat him in a fair duel! He's only a wizard, he's not a god! people are afraid because they don't know who he is and where he came from, they believe the rumors that his supporters are spreading – "

Dumbledore stood up, facing Potter. And though he was thinner then Potter and frail, at that moment he seemed powerful, as if he were glowing brightly.

"His real name is Tom Riddle," he cut through Potter's words uncompromisingly. "He studied at Hogwarts, in Slytherin House. I was his teacher."

The confession extinguished Potter's flame. He looked at Dumbledore as though he was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth.

"What happened to him?" He finally asked, his voice cracking like cool coals. "Why is he doing all this?"

"Tyrants are born out of humiliation and pain," Dumbledore replied, sitting down in his chair with a sigh, as if the outburst demanded too much of his strength. "Riddle, who was an orphan, believed that he had found a home in Hogwarts. He was sorted into Slytherin, where many of the students come from pure- blood families. Riddle, who's mother was a pure- blood but his father a Muggle, felt a need to use his talents to empower himself and compensate for his origins, which he considered shameful. His supporters are similar to him: they feel they have been deprived of their natural status by the Muggle, who usurped their wealth and power. They do not wish to live in the shadows anymore, while Muggle- borns can live in both worlds without fear.

"Their greatest enemies are wizards and witches like your parents – respected and influential wizards who have tried to lead the world to a better place, and refused to surrender to Voldemort terror. That was the reason they were killed, and that's why you should not throw your life away, James. The Potter family is a symbol of virtue for many wizards, and since the regrettable end of your parents, also the symbol for the struggle against the darkness. You are the last of it's line."

From the top corner Lily thought she saw tears in Potter's eyes before he looked away. She couldn't imagine what it was like. She had suspected that the Potter's death had something to do with Voldemort since the visit of the unwanted guests, but she hadn't had the courage to ask Potter what had really happened.

When Potter turned back to the Headmaster his eyes were bright but dry: "You can't expect me to sit by and do nothing."

"That's not what I'm saying," Dumbledore said. "I do not wish you to face Voldemort alone, but that does not mean you can't fight. Join my Order. I have made a rule not to allow students to join, but I am certain that everyone would agree that you are an exception to the rule."

Potter held Dumbledore's gaze for a long moment before he crossed his arms again and looked away. "I took a vow the day we buried them. I'm not about to let them down."

Lily wanted to shout at him from her place by the ceiling. Dumbledore was trying to help him and protect him at the same time, how could he refuse him so rudely?

Dumbledore stood, looking older than he had at the beginning of the conversation.

"Promise me you would consider it," he said. "Once you made a decision, write to me. Whatever your decision may be. Goodbye, Mr. Potter."

He turned to leave, hands clasped behind his back and his face serious. The study door closed softly. Potter was standing in the middle of the room, hands in he's pockets, staring into the air. Lily lifted herself off the floor angrily.

"Where are you going?" Black whispered in a hushed voice as she opened the flap door and went down the stairs, full of purpose. "Evans!"

She crossed the drawing- room swiftly, and without hesitating opened the study door at the end of the room. Potter, who had been slumped in the stiff wooden chair with the craving of the stag's head, looked up with pure surprise at her invasion.

"Write to him now," she said with a firmness that she didn't know she was capable of. The matter infuriated her for many reasons, but she didn't know how greatly until the moment she had opened her mouth. "Write to him and tell him you accept."

For a moment he looked as if he didn't understand what she was talking about. Then an angry understanding swept over his face and he looked toward the corner where the peaking hole was located, almost invisible to anyone who didn't know it was there.

Black and Pettigrew almost collided with her as they entered the study then.

"You've been spying on me?" Potter spoke in the cold, frightening tone he used the night Severus was there. He looked over to his friends. "You, too?"

"Give me a break, you would've done the same," Black replied defiantly.

"No, I wouldn't have!" Potter raised his voice, his rage breaking out. "It's not a game, Padfoot!"

"I'm not going to apologize," Black continued with a firm counterattack. "When were you going to tell us that you were planning to fight Voldemort on your own? Get over it, Wormtail!" He snapped at Pettigrew as he winched at the name.

"After he was dead," Potter replied coldly, not yielding to Black's accusations. His scowling gaze swept over Lily then. She straightened her back, not about to show him any weakness. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Don't change a subject," Black intervened.

Lily ignored his attempt to leave her out of the conversation and said, "I don't regret having spied on you. Now I know who I'm working for."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Potter lashed in cold anger.

"You're nothing more than a selfish coward," Lily went on without fear. "It's easier for you to send Maxwell to risk his life, or to go yourself and just die, than to deal with your loss. I lost my mother too, I know how it feels – "

"Your mother wasn't murdered by a raving psycho," Potter cut her, standing up aggressively.

"What difference does it make?" Lily began to raise her voice. She didn't tend to do it much, but when she needed her voice it could shake walls. "They're all dead! Nothing will bring them back! You're not the only one who lost someone to Voldemort, so stop acting like it's personal! Write to Dumbledore and help him protect those who can still be saved! If you won't I'll take your place. I'm willing to fight for what matters."

Potter didn't answer this time. He turned his back to look out the window, as if the garden contained all the answers he needed.

"We already told you, Prongs," Black spoke softly. "You don't have to deal with this alone. It's not a duel to the death between you and him. It's a war. We all have to fight it."

Lily had never heard Black speak so earnestly. The way he said the words "It's a war" sent a chill through her flesh. She didn't really think a lot about what was happening in the wizarding world – conflicts happened all the time – but at that moment she realized for the first time that it wasn't just a fleeting wave of hate.

Suddenly the world outside seemed dark. She thought about Petunia and her father, imagining them having tea with Petunia's faceless groom in a peaceful evening. Then she imagined wizards in black robes breaking into the house and hurting them, like in the reports that were published in the Daily Prophet. The thought made her want to throw up.

"Get out," Potter ordered without looking at them. "I need to think."

Black looked as though he was going to say something to make things worse. Lily pulled at his arm and motioned to him to shut up. To her surprise he obeyed, giving Potter a last look before the three left the study.

"He'll come around," Black said hopefully as they were out of earshot. "Say, did you really mean what you said? About wanting to fight?"

Suddenly Lily felt much less sure of herself, remembering that she was still wearing an apron, and that a moment ago she was shouting at her employer. "Of course. Why would I say something like that for no reason?"

Black shrugged. "I just never saw you as the feisty type, is all."

"I'm not feisty," Lily replied. "But I refuse to sit on the sidelines while someone hurts and terrorizes people just because they're different. And I'm a Muggle- born, too, you know."

Black gave her a strange smile. She had never seen such an expression on his face, at least not when he was looking at a girl. Was it appreciation?

"That's good to know," he said. She was trying to remember whether they'd ever had a real conversation, but couldn't. She never thought Black was even capable of that, until that very moment.