Author's Notes:

Hey guys. Thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favourited-my motivation is greatly influenced by all of you lovely people. I realize this update is a bit late, and I send out my sincerest apologies. I've been going through a lot of shit lately. Hopefully this belated chapter makes up for it, though it feels a bit half-assed on my part. Please don't hesitate to drop me a line and review to let me know what you think. I've eaten too much cake lately, so instead I'll compare the awesomeness of reviews to chocolate, which I could never get enough of.

Anon Reviewer ontheroad: Yes! The title is after the Wallflowers song One Headlight. You, my friend, rock. I could literally listen to that song for the rest of my life and never grow tired of it.

By the way...the chapter titles are songs that inspire me while I'm writing. Check them out.

"Where the d'you reckon Padfoot is?" Peter asked.

"Dunno." James shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robes. "Don't suppose he wants to be found."

He, Remus, and Peter had just exited the carriages and were climbing the stone steps up to Hogwarts Castle. Peter was panting slightly when they reached the entrance hall; Remus was scanning the tops of heads for Sirius; James heard something causing him to stop in his tracks. Peter promptly ran into him.

"What is it?" Remus asked, following James's gaze.

James said nothing, but started walking quickly towards a small corridor that branched off of the entrance hall, his wand in hand. Remus immediately followed; Peter hesitated for a split second and then did the same.

"Back off Lesterange."

Remus turned the corner to find James with his wand pointed at Rabastan Lestrange's chest, the latter whom had his wand aimed at a younger student, surrounded by several Slytherin cronies. He immediately drew his wand, for James was severely outnumbered. He caught Wormtail doing the same in his peripheral vision, although he was standing a step behind himself and James.

"Potter." Rabastan spat, his wand still pointed at the student, though his Slytherin mates now had their wands aimed at the Marauders. "This doesn't concern you." His face twisted into a malicious smile. "Run along and play."

"Back off, Lesterange." James repeated, his knuckles turning white clasped around his wand. "Now."

The Slytherins laughed humourlessly.

"Or what, Potter?" a dark haired dark eyed Ralon Nott asked, stepping forward. "There are four of us and three of you—or can't you count?"

"I would ask you the same but I know you can't, Nott." James's eyes were flashing with fury. "Leave. Now."

"Don't give us a detention!" Cruella Yaxley wailed, a Prefects badge glinting on her chest. "Oh, that's right." She glared at Remus. "You can't."

James made to speak, but Remus put his arm against his shoulder holding him back.

"Why don't you leave," Remus said calmly, his wand still raised, "and we'll avoid getting anyone else involved."

Rabastan smirked. "Like who Lupin?" He looked over his shoulder. "I don't see anyone, do you?"

"We can settle this later," he continued calmly, glancing at the traumatized boy still on the floor. "Let him go and we'll settle this later."

Rabastan actually seemed to consider his words.

"All right, Lupin." He lowered his wand, turning to his mates and grinning maliciously. "It's really no fun if dear old Black isn't here, anyway."

The Slytherins, with one last evil look, disappeared down the corridor. Remus let go of James only when they were out of sight. James punched the wall. Peter flinched slightly.

"Fuck them."

Remus coughed and motioned to the boy.

James ran a hand through his hair and did not look slightly apologetic when he muttered, "Sorry."

"Are you all right?" Remus asked, bending down to the boy's level. He looked about twelve—probably a second year, he reasoned. Remus gave a small smile. "What's your name?"

The boy looked like he had been crying. He choked out, "Sam Waylon."

Remus smiled kindly again. "Right—well, Sam, I think you've earned fifty points to Gryffindor, wouldn't you say?"

Sam appeared hesitant. "Won't—won't they get in trouble?"

"No because they are slimy little—"

"James." Remus warned. "What exactly did they do to you?"

"I..." Sam thought for a moment and then made a sweeping gesture over his whole body with his arms. "I don't know what the spell was...but it made everywhere hurt really bad. Like—like knives going into my skin e-everywhere, but there aren't any wounds." He looked down and assessed his arms and legs just to be sure of this fact.

Remus looked at him with utmost sincerity. "Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"No...It doesn't hurt anymore. It aches a little, though...aren't you James Potter?" he asked James, sitting up straighter.

James, who was leaning up against the corridor wall with his arms crossed, did not answer. Remus smiled again at Sam before he helped him to his feet.

"I think you're going to be fine, Sam. You should probably go back to the feast." When Sam looked hesitant to go alone, Remus added with a comforting smile, "Don't worry, they went the other way."

Sam Waylon nodded. He began walking towards the entrance hall. He paused when he reached where James was standing. "You're Quidditch Captain, right?"

James nodded reluctantly, really not in the mood to be discussing Quidditch.

"When are try-outs?" Sam asked eagerly, looking all of his twelve years. "I'm a beater!"

"Yeah well, we've already got two excellent beaters." James said harshly. He realized he had crushed the boy's sprit, however, and added, "But don't worry—most second years don't make the team, anyway."

Sam still drooped. He turned towards Remus and muttered a quick, "Thanks," before continuing on his way.

Peter grinned slightly. "Funny little chap..." But no one paid this comment any heed.

"The cruciatis curse." Remus said, letting out a tiny sigh.

James's eyes became wide. "You're not serious, Remus?"

Remus nodded gravely. "I know the signs. No other spell could have that big of an effect. Not to my knowledge."

James began to pace.

"Isn't that risky?" Peter asked. "Doing that in a school?"

"No one said they were smart, Wormtail." James snapped, putting a hand to his forehead in distress.

Remus watched James closely. "We shouldn't report them. No one was permanently injured and we don't want to give them any more reason to come after us." His voice was quiet and precise. When James opened his mouth to argue, he added, "They are dangerous, James. Who knows what they are capable of."

James looked down and ran a hand through his hair again. After a moment, he nodded slowly and met Remus's eyes. "All right." He sighed. "All right...let's go." He began walking towards the Great Hall. Remus followed him with a slightly strained brow, and Peter quickly hurried to catch up, having legs similar to the lengths of a tooth-pick.

-…-

Lily entered the Great Hall, Sirius at her side. She gave him a little half-wave and he grinned back at her, well aware that people were staring at both of them, for they had both come in late for the feast and Sirius was still dressed in Muggle attire. Lily remained calm and collected, ignoring the stares, and located her mates. Sirius sat further along the table than she, presumably with the rest of the Marauders, but she couldn't tell.

"What was Sirius doing?" Marlene asked, intrigued and slightly attracted to the tousled Black. "And why does he look so dashing?"

"This is Black you're talking about you realize, Mar." Lily said, crossing her legs under the table and propping her elbows up.

Marlene didn't seem to take this as a very sufficient answer, so Lily changed the subject to spare Sirius the publicity.

"Anyone seen Charlotte?" she asked, looking around beside and across from her.

Dorcas shook her head.

"Maybe she's ill?" Mary suggested, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

The four girls did not have the time to discuss this for very much longer, for just than McGonagall entered the Hall with a wooden stool in hand.

Lily rather enjoyed watching the sorting. She loved seeing the amazed looks on the first years' faces when they looked up at the enchanted ceiling or the gasps of surprise when the sorting hat began to sing animatedly. It reminded her of what it had been like when she was a first year; a memory which always brought a smile to her lips. She was glad to be back.

Once "Quinn, Zephora" had been sorted into Hufflepuff, Dumbledore stood to speak.

"Welcome to our new students, and welcome back to our old." His eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. He wore long, deep purple dress robes, and his beard, Lily noticed, had been trimmed much shorter than last term. "Dig in."

The four house tables filled magically with food and chatter began to fill the Hall. Lily ate lightly: she had indulged in quite a few sweets that afternoon. She was more interested on what Dumbledore would say in his speech when everyone was done eating; the conversation between the conductor and the Ministry official still ripe in her head. She was disappointed when Dumbledore just gave the usual speech, warnings about the Forbidden Forest, Quidditch try-outs, and again, no magic in the corridors. She wondered why he hadn't said anything pertaining to the blackout, but maybe he just hadn't wanted to call attention to the matter. Maybe the Ministry was preventing him from saying anything. Maybe—

"Are you coming Lily?"

Lily stopped running theories through her head and turned around to meet eyes with one Remus Lupin.

"Right—" she stood and put a hand in the air. She wasn't normally this disheveled, and it threw her off. "First years this way!"

Remus followed behind her, shouting the same, and once they were in the corridor he began to give them a lay-down of the castle; everything they might need to know. Lily admired his charisma as she listened while they climbed their way up to the seventh floor and the Gryffindor Common Room. Once he had given all of the basic knowledge (bathrooms, classrooms, breakfast, dinner, library, grounds), he asked if anyone had any questions.

"I heard there are ghosts," one boy in the back of the line piped up. "Is it true?"

Remus smiled and nodded. "Yes—" at which several students gasped, "—but don't worry, they're friendly. It's really just Peeves you have to look out for..."

They had reached the portrait hole, and Remus quickly explained how it operated before telling the first years the password. After a brief overview of the Common Room, they had reached the dormitory staircases. Lily thought she had better at least contribute something to Remus's tour, so she told each gender where they could find their appropriate dorm, and how the girls' dorm was jinxed to not allow anyone up its stairs.

"So does that mean an actual male?" one boy asked. "Because I have this one uncle, who's really an aunt—"

Remus clasped his hands together, interrupting the boy. "And that concludes our time together this evening! I suggest you head up to your respective dorms and get some rest—you have a big day ahead of you!"

Lily grinned at Remus after the first years had skedaddled up the stairs. "That was impressive—I didn't even know about that bathroom on the sixth floor."

"I get around." His eyes glinting softly; mischievously. "Are you all right? You seem a bit...preoccupied."

Lily sighed, realizing then how tired she was. "It's been a long day." She half-smiled.

Remus nodded slowly in agreement, grinning slightly. "Well rest assured, it probably wasn't as long a day as that uncle's who is really an aunt..."

Lily laughed, bumping Remus playfully with her elbow. "I'll keep that in mind," she promised. She looked towards the dorm, then back at him. "I think I'll call it a night. See you tomorrow, Remus."

He smiled. "'Night, Lily."

Lily smiled in return and ascended the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

-…-

Remus was the first to notice when Sirius entered the Hall. Peter was the second, although he was less observant than both James and Remus But then again James was transfixed with Lily, who had come in a few steps ahead of Sirius. Remus thought Sirius had been doing exactly what he had been doing; Peter thought Sirius had finally cracked; James thought that once he got his hands around Sirius's neck that he might see some sense.

"What the hell are you thinking?" James whispered, assessing Sirius's outfit as the latter sat down at the Gryffindor table. He had whispered because people were staring—everyone was staring, really.

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the stares.

"You smell like whiskey." James added, his eyes slightly narrowed at him from across the table. "And smoke." To which Sirius also shrugged. "Damn it, Sirius—"

"What?" Sirius asked, his silver eyes, tired, focused on James.

McGonagall entered the Great Hall carrying a wooden stool. The majority of the Hall stopped talking, so James lowered his voice even further.

"Do you see yourself?" James snapped, leaning closer to him. "You look like hell!"

The sorting hat burst out into song, preventing further chatter. James ran a hand through his hair and gave him a look before averting his eyes to the front of the Hall. He didn't broach the topic again until the feast was over, which made the entire length of the meal quite tense indeed.

Remus tried to fill the void by explaining in great detail a novel he had just finished; Peter played along, asking questions about the characters and the plot. Finally, Dumbledore stood and said the usual start of term announcements and Remus stood along with everyone else to direct the first years.

Sirius sitting tapped his fingers on the table. James looked up at the Staff table, betting everything he had that McGonagall was going to come over any minute. Sure enough, her lips were pursed into a line so thin, he almost couldn't see it. When the students seated around them had cleared out, the two stood and exited the Hall in silence. Peter had left just after Remus had in attempt to avoid involvement in the row that was brewing.

"You can't do this, you know." James said once they were in the corridor. "I won't let you."

Sirius smiled humourlessly, leaning against the stone wall behind him. "I don't know what it is you think I'm doing, Prongs, but—"

"You're doing it right now!" James threw his hands in the air. "You're—hello Professor."

McGonagall, who had followed the two out of the Hall, nodded at James. "Mr. Black, I will be requiring a word with you promptly in my office."

James, with one last look at Sirius that said "we'll talk later," nodded at McGonagall and headed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

Sirius sighed. He just wanted his bed. And maybe a cigarette. "Can't you just punish me here?" He asked without his usual charming demeanour; not a pleading note in his voice but instead exhaustion.

Professor McGonagall looked a bit taken aback by his tone. She said nothing for a moment. "I implore you to explain why you have felt the need to exempt yourself from the school's dress code."

"I like the attention, Professor." Sirius met her eyes with his own.

McGonagall paused as if waiting for another explanation. When he gave none, she said, "Very well. Fifteen points from Gryffindor. Have a good night, Mr. Black." And she was off, her emerald robes billowing behind her.

Sirius let out a breath. He was still leaning against the wall as he pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. He yearned for a fag, but as he reached into his pocket, he realized he had smoked the last one on the platform. He swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. After minutes of arguing with himself, he decided to make his way towards Gryffindor Tower. The idea of confrontation wasn't very appealing, but he was exhausted.

He had only been away from Hogwarts for three months, but, as he walked through the familiar corridors, he wondered why everything felt so strange and different. He wondered who he had been before, and who he was now, and why he felt like he hadn't changed, but also knew he wasn't the same.

-…-

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" James asked dryly, leaning against the portrait hole frame. His eyes were fixed on the girls' dormitory staircase, his stance hostile.

Remus chose to ignore his comment. "Shall I presume it did not go well?" James was jealous of Remus's relationship with Lily, but he never held it completely against him. And when he did, he was either in an extremely irritable mood or shitfaced.

James shook his head and walked closer to Remus, who stood by the stairwells. "I said about two words to him before McGonagall swooped in." He softened significantly. "I'm sorry, I'm just...overloaded." Yes, he thought that was the correct term. "And Sirius is just Sirius. And Lily still thinks I'm about as worthless as a flobberworm, which doesn't exactly help."

"No, I can't imagine that it would." Remus admitted, eyes glinting slightly. "Might I recommend you actually speak with her before jumping to conclusions?"

"So I can hear 'sod off, Potter?'"

"Perhaps if you said something not pertaining to your ego or her bottom, you might receive a more pleasant response."

James bumped Remus mock-playfully with his elbow and said, "I'll keep that in mind."

-…-

Lily entered the dormitory, sighing at the familiar sight. She flopped down on her bed and buried her nose in the blankets—savouring the smell of the clean sheets. Mmmhhmm... She rolled over on her back and faced the ceiling, resting her hands across her stomach. She had missed her bed.

Remembering her missing dorm mate, Lily picked her head up and scanned the room more carefully, but it was without prevail. Then she noticed the lavatory door was closed, and walked over to knock on it. A moment later it opened to reveal Charlotte Hartry: a mane of damp red hair.

"Charlotte," Lily smiled. She was dressed in bedclothes. "How are you?"

Charlotte tucked a curl behind her ear. "I'm all right...tired." She smiled slightly. "I wasn't too hungry."

"We hoped you weren't sick," Lily leaned against a bedpost as Charlotte crossed the room and began rifling through her trunk at the foot of her bed.

"Yeah...I'm fine." She extracted a novel and closed the lid, standing. "Thanks." She attempted a smile.

Lily sensed that she did not really want to talk, so she returned the gesture and headed into the lavatory. Charlotte laid down on her bed and closed the curtains, read about two pages of her book and thought, fuck it. She slipped out of bed and grabbed her wand of her bedside table, leaving the curtains pulled around her four-poster so her dorm mates would think she was sleeping. Opening the window just to the right of her bed, she quickly judged the distance between where she stood and the roof below before climbing out the window and down the vines on the wall on the outside of the tower. She landed silently on the flat roof and sighed, her body slightly tingling from the height. It was something she had done many times before.

The night was crisp, and she immediately regretted not throwing on a jumper. Sitting far from the edge, she took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit it with her wand, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. The night was clear; the almost full moon shining brightly and illuminating the grounds. It was quiet, the only sounds emitting from the light wind as it blew through the trees and the many cracks and crevasses of the castle. It was peaceful. She set her head in her arms and wished it would stay that way. Wishing she could dissolve into the wind…float away….