You see, I told you I would update soon! Anyhow, here is the next bit of "The Man Behind The Mask." Since Chapter 1 started in the middle of the story, this is actually the beginning of the tale to come. That means that, once the whole trajectory is laid out, to read this in order it will go something like: Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 1 (this), Ch 6, Ch 7, etc. I know, it's confusing, and I apologize profusely. If you have questions, ask me, and if you have criticisms, tell me!

Enjoy Chapter 2!

- Lorraine


Sitting at her kitchen table reading her Hogwarts letter, Lily Evans found herself displeased with the headmaster for the first time in her school career. She had been made Head Girl—that was not the part that was displeasing; in fact she was overjoyed. She had done an utterly undignified victory dance, and some rather unladylike sounds had issued from her mouth. No, the reason she was miffed at Professor Dumbledore was that she didn't know who the Head Boy was.

Why, oh why, couldn't that have been included in the letter? It really seemed quite reasonable. She was going to have to live with this person for the better part of a year; wasn't it only fair that she get a head start in determining how to deal with him? But, no, that was not how it was done. She would just have to wait and find out on the Hogwarts Express.

Little did she know that she was in for quite a shock.


On the morning of September 1st, Lily took extra time with her appearance. She convinced herself that she wasn't trying to make the Head Boy like her, she merely wanted to impress him with her composure. After all, she had to wear her uniform, so it wasn't as if she could really be alluring.

As she pulled up her grey knee socks with the three red stripes, she reviewed the list of likely Head Boy candidates in her head.

There was Amos Diggory from Hufflepuff who had been asking her out for nearly as long as Potter. He was much kinder about it, though, and only tried about three times a year. She pulled a wool sweater over her white dress shirt.

Then there was the Ravenclaw Kenneth Davies, who seemed a mild-mannered lad. She didn't know much about him, except that he was bookish—not on the Quidditch team, so that was something to recommend him. She began to lace up her black Oxford shoes—she'd magicked a small, comfortable heel onto them to make up for her diminutive stature. Whoever the Head Boy turned out to be, he was bound to be at least four inches taller than her even with the heels.

There was Remus Lupin, of course, from her own house. As they had been prefects together in their 5th and 6th years, she and Remus had become friends and study partners, despite his status as a Marauder. He was kind and funny, and had the good sense to tell his mates to leave her alone before she hexed them all into next year.

As she fixed her hair, fastening part of it with a barrette in the back, she considered the last possible candidate: Slytherin's own Severus Snape, a Death Eater in training and her former best friend. Everyone berated Lily for being chummy with him in the first place, and now she couldn't help but agree with them. She thought it would be simply cruel of Dumbledore to pair her with Sev, knowing their history, but she couldn't hope to predict what went on in the headmaster's deviously brilliant mind.

She stopped to consider her final appearance. She looked quite put-together. Never one to be too feminine, she had applied only mascara and tinted lip balm, giving her a freshly scrubbed look. Her clothes were neat, but not too neat—the tails of her white shirt were showing under the grey of her sweater, so that the grey of her pleated skirt did not merge seamlessly with the top of her body. The skirt was a good length on her, stopping a couple of inches above the knee. Her socks emphasized her toned legs, and somehow made the skirt seem shorter, though it covered a decent amount. She was altogether pleased with herself, and suspected the Head Boy would be, too.

Merlin, she hoped it would be Remus.