PHASE 3—The Takeover

"Hear ye, hear ye!" Marlene called out, pushing through crowds of mostly prepubescent girls, pulling the new and improved Peter Pettigrew by the wrist.

"Marlene," her victim hissed. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes," she scoffed. "Of course I do. Who do you think I am?"

"Well, what are you doing?" Peter said, looking around nervously at all the members of the opposite gender.

"We're hitting the pre-marauder fan club rush. Everyone wants to get there early—get the best seats. And these are your potential clients. The only people crazy enough in this school to idolize you—or anyone for that matter."

Peter sighed reluctantly, as Marlene continued to exclaim, "Hear ye, hear ye!"

Finally, a girl with giant bejeweled glasses approached Marlene, looking significantly exasperated. "What do you want McKinnon? I thought you dumped Black ages ago."

Marlene's jaw set. "I didn't dump him. How could I dump him if we never dated?"

Rita Skeeter snorted. "I don't know why you would denying shagging someone as delectable as Sirius Black."

"He's a douchehag, toerag, and an overall scumbag."

"Yes, but a sexy scumbag."

Marlene sighed. "Anyway. What I was here for. Since you guys are never getting boyfriends, I thought I might introduce you to someone a little closer to your league. No offense, Pettigrew."

"Offense taken," Peter muttered.

"Pettigrew?" Skeeter said, taking two steps back, and looking absolutely horrified. "Oh, ew! The Gobstones club captain? Ugh! Where is he?"

A few of the other upperclassmen scurried to get on all the nearby chairs, while the underclassmen looked around, confused and wondering if there was a rat on the loose.

"Right here," Marlene said, lifting up Peter's wrist, and pushing him into the center of the fangirl chaos.

After a second, and looking Peter up and down several time, Skeeter raised an eyebrow and addressed Marlene. "Haha. Real funny. I have to say, that is the worst Pettigrew look-a-like I have ever seen."

"He's not a look-a-like, Skeeter. He's the real thing."

Skeeter's eyes widened to the point that planes could land on them with ease. "You're joking."

"Nope."

Skeeter gave Peter a cursory glance. "That's just scary, then."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Not as scary as the fact that you know Peter's captain of the Gobstones club."

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"Why did the gillyweed cross the road?"

"To get to the other side. Duh."

"No! Hah-hah! It was a trick question! Gillyweed can't cross a road, it's a plant!"

Frank snorted. "That was an awful joke, Alice."

Alice pouted in return. "I hate you."

"Face it," Frank sighed. "You're just horrible at telling jokes."

"Oh yeah, well, maybe I won't tutor the remedial second years with you anymore then," Alice retorted.

"Oh no! Not the second years! All alone? Whatever would I do?" Frank cried dramatically. "Maybe what I did all the time before I met you?"

Alice frowned. "Well, I didn't want to, but I guess you're forcing me to."

"To what?"

"Dumbledore once had a bad day. Just to see what it felt like."

Frank blinked. "Not the Dumbledore jokes! My weakness! You've found me out!"

(As it turns out, they really were his weakness).

Alice smirked. "I told you. It's your fault for insulting my joke-telling abilities. As you can see, they really are spot on. Like, Dumbledore can drown a mermaid."

"Well, Dumbledore's tears are more potent than phoenix tears. Too bad he's never cried," Frank grinned.

"Dumbledore can see things in a crystal ball."

Frank snickered. "You call that good?"

"I dare you to find something better. Or to see something in a crystal ball."

"Let me see..." Frank thought aloud. "Easy. Dumbledore can show up late to McGonagall's class. And he gets away with it."

Alice gaped. "Damn."

Frank shrugged modestly. "I suppose I just have the talent. Some people have it, and some don't," he said pointedly.

"I have it!" Alice protested. "Dumbledore got full marks on the Auror entrance exam—by writing his name for every answer."

"Ooh. That was good," Frank conceded. "Maybe you aren't Troll with joke telling, but your performance is still Poor."

"Well, when I'm an Auror, I'll remember to come back and kick your arse."

"You want to be an Auror?" Frank asked, completely ignoring the second, more violent part of the statement.

"Er, yeah," Alice shrugged. "My parents are Aurors. I've wanted to be one since I was a kid."

"Me too," Frank said, stunned.

"And especially," Alice continued, "with You-Know-Who out there. I mean, I just don't get his views about muggles. I'm in muggle studies and all, and for people without magic, they're doing just as well as we are, quite honestly. And muggleborns? Some of the best wizards are muggleborns. Your friend Lily, she's Head Girl and the top of our year, and she's a muggleborn. I'm a pedigreed Pureblood, and I couldn't touch her. It'd be a total loss for our society to not have muggleborns, and to not have muggles? Well, personally, I think the Ministry would be rather pointless then. You know all they do is keep us secret from the muggles."

Frank stared.

Alice blushed.

"Sorry for the rant. I…I just feel strongly about it…"

Frank never in his life wanted to be more like Marlene's "snog-friends"—able to push Alice up against the wall and snog the living daylights out of her.

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"You really don't like Rita Skeeter, huh?" Peter asked Marlene as they escaped from the hordes of girls rushing into the Potions room to start the weekly meeting of the James Potter Fan Club.

"She's a whiney, needy, little bitch," Marlene replied, without even a split second hesitation.

"And you feel strongly about that?" Peter joked, garnering a sharp elbow in the ribs from Marlene.

"I hate you."

"You hate everybody, Marlene."

"You know what Peter?" Marlene said threateningly to Peter, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows.

"I didn't say that!" Peter said hastily, putting his hands up in between the two of them, to protect himself. Of course, it ended up just looking like he was about to grope Marlene, which, in the end, didn't make Marlene happier.

"Oh, am I supposed to believe that now the portraits can talk and one of them said that? Huh?"

"No, but you are supposed to believe I said it."

This time, Marlene turned and saw the speaker. "Mary! You bitch!" And subsequently ran to hug her roommate.

"I'm the bitch? You're the one who made Skeeter cry after ratting her out for her despotic ways."

Marlene laughed. "Oh yeah. Good times…good times. You're still in the fan club?"

Mary smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I know it's awful, and all that. But it's full of idiot girls who tape pictures of Sirius onto their pillows so they can make out with him every night—and I dare you to find better Tuesday night entertainment—and pictures of sexy guys. It's good for the estrogen, you kow?"

Marlene nodded. "Yeah... Lily and Frank don't really provide much estrogen. Quite honestly, I get more of an estrogen fix out of Peter these days."

"Peter?"

"Oh!" Marlene said. "Where are my manners? Shut up, I can have manners, you know. Peter, this is Mary MacDonald, an old friend, and, Mary, this is Peter Pettigrew. I am helping him get a fan club."

Mary blinked. "A fan club? That's…ambitious. Why?"

Peter blinked back. "Er…everyone else has one?"

Mary smiled. "Well, if you ever get your club, I'll join. I don't know you very well, but you seem worthy of all that adulation."

"Oh…er…thanks…" Peter said, inept at thinking at the moment.

"And I better get to the dungeons before Rita rips my hair out for being late," Mary grimaced, rushing off with a final wave to Marlene and her prodigy.

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Lily Evans was bored.

Decidedly bored.

Her friends had abandoned her, and it was one of those moments where she just wasn't in the mood to read. Yes, Lily Evans was not horny for reading.

Which was rather sad, really. Because when you're in a library, there's nothing else to do.

And I know you all are sitting there, saying, why can't she just get up and leave the library then?

Well, it's called laziness, and Lily Evans was suffering from an acute case of it.

Where were we? Oh yes.

Lily Evans was bored.

What could one do in the library?

She could read—but it has already been established that she wasn't horny for reading.

She could sleep—but libraries weren't the best place to wake up pain-free.

She could do homework—but being Lily Evans, it was already finished.

She could whisper and gossip with friends—but wait, her friends abandoned her.

And it wasn't her fault for ignoring them in the first place.

Not at all.

Which left one thing to do in the library.

Snog in the most remote, darkest corners of the library with your significant other, or a random cute guy you picked up out of nowhere.

Too bad Lily couldn't. Libraries were not the ideal location to find cute, snoggable boys who weren't already engaged in this particular profession with another desperately bored female.

You may ask, why couldn't Lily snog her significant other?

I say, you are missing a gaping hole, because Lily does not have a significant other, which is a rather important fact, since it contributes greatly to the plot of the whole story, and, more precisely, this scene I am writing right here, in which Lily realizes that she is alone in a world full of happy couples. Onward with the scene in which Lily realizes that she it alone in a world full of happy couples.

Right now, actually, Lily could see Benjy Fenwick and Emmeline Vance going at it, looking like they were trying to eat each other's faces off.

Lily bet that Frank was probably trying to do that to Alice right about now. And Marlene had probably done it to at least two guys in the twenty minutes since she left.

Argh. Lily looked away. It had been awhile since she had been snogged. And even then, that was only Potter accosting her in an attempt to get her to go out with him. Or whatever. Before that, the last time had been Davy Gudgeon in the beginning of fifth year.

It was a long drought of snogging—especially to someone who has to listen her mate detail all of her frequent snogs and shags and whatnot.

Lily sighed, and realized that she was alone in a world full of happy couples.

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"Hi…are you Peter Pettigrew?" asked a girl, sidling up to the man in question.

"Er…yeah?"

The girl blushed, and her friend spoke up. "We were wondering if you knew James and Sirius."

Peter frowned. "Of course I do. They're my best friends."

"Then why haven't we heard of you?"

"Er…"

"Yeah," the girl said. "He's just as cute as they are. I mean, what, were you afraid of girls?"

Peter blushed himself. "I…"

"And he's actually talking to us," the friend agreed. "I mean, every time I approach Sirius, he runs away."

"Maybe because you're shouting at him that you want to have his babies?" Peter offered meekly.

The friend scoffed. "It's true, though. Our babies would be beautiful."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Well, we'll see you around. But, thanks, Peter. Someone needed to set her straight. Sirius is going to have my babies."

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Mary rushed up the stairs, barely grasping the handrails as she dashed up the tightly coiled stairs, and throwing open the door when she reached the top.

"Sirius," she panted.

"Hello, Mary," he drawled in return. "How was your date?"

Mary winced, remembering the awful trip to the kitchens with Remus, in which he read passages aloud from Jane Eyre, pointing out all the reasons for which he loved Jane.

"Insipid," she whined. "I don't want to talk about it."

Sirius snorted. "How awful can this guy be? I swear, if I hadn't known already that you'd dumped Remus, I'd say you were still dating him."

Mary gulped, but quelled her guilt by entangling her hands in Sirius' luscious hair, sucking on his lip, and other naughty things.

Sirius smiled back into her mouth, moving his own down onto her neck, and reaching his hands up her shirt, but decided in the end to just remove it, as his hand softly caressed her side, raising the hairs on her back and leaving a slight tingling feeling, before travelling south to find itself under the hem of her skirt.

Mary returned the favor, going a bit further by taking off his pants as well, and finally showed Sirius mercy by telling him that some things clasp in the back, as his mouth began moving its way downwards, and Mary tensed at the warm feeling left in the pit of her stomach as Sirius paused to suckle her neck.

Sirius smirked, and with the removal of the pesky device, his lips came crashing down—

And now the author feels very dirty and perverted writing this. In fact, she's going to do what she usually does, being a puritanical prude like herself and censoring the scene (and mentioning that if you were getting too into this, remember, the internet is for porn).

Er…yeah.

Mary sighed. Sirius was always the best relief after a date with Remus. But as he detached himself from her, and she had to take her head off his chest, Mary rued the fact that the sex god would never settle down and date someone.

Not that she'd really fancy dating Sirius. From her shags with Sirius, she could only imagine a date with him—his telling perverted jokes and staring at all the hot birds in the vicinity.

Mary grudgingly sat up, removed Sirius' hand from her nether regions, retrieved her clothes, and carefully put them back on (no Gryffindor wants to end up like Dorcas Meadowes: walking into class with her shirt misbuttoned, skirt on backwards, and her boyfriend's Ravenclaw tie).

The marauders were just…ugh. Only in it for the sex, totally ignorant, or reserved for Lily Evans. But then there was Peter.

But who knew what Peter was? He wasn't the most acknowledged marauder. When Mary had spoken to him he seemed nice… and she couldn't help but wonder what he was like in the sack.

Mary groaned, picked up her bag, and headed for class.

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"Peter!"

Peter grimaced. "Sorry for running into you."

"It's fine," Mary smirked. "I guess Marlene hasn't trained everything out of you."

Peter blushed. "You going to History of Magic too?"

Mary nodded and pointing to her bag added, "Got my pillow and everything. Let the napping commence."

Peter snorted. "Here I'll carry your bag for you."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "It's not heavy or anything. It's just a pillow in a canvas bag."

"Just let me take it for you."

And when Mary raised her eyebrows even farther, Peter rolled his eyes and simply snatched the bag away from her, shoving it atop his own (heavier) bag.

"I didn't know Marlene taught you chivalry," Mary pondered aloud. "I mean, seeing the guys she goes for are the ones who shove her against the wall without a word, snog her, and then never talk to her again..."

"Really?" Peter smiled. "No wonder she was going on about the snog-and-run. Yeah…Marlene didn't teach me chivalry."

"Then who did?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Are you saying that I can't be chivalrous on my own?"

"Well…er…I suppose not, then…hehe…sorry Peter."

"A guy can't be nice to a girl without her being suspicious, huh?" Peter muttered.

"So, do you do this for all the potential fan girls?"

"Heck no. Marlene said if I did anything more than say hello to them, they'd go crazy and we'd have the Armageddon on our hands."

"So I'm not a fan girl, then? Didn't I tell you I'd join your club?"

"Ah," Peter smiled. "Friends are fans. Here's your bag."

Mary smiled back at him, entered the History of Magic classroom, and prepared for a nice, long nap.

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"So, there I was, my hand stuck down it's stump, and the plant goes and shoots its pus at me!"

Frank chuckled. "One fiery buboter plant—is it related to Lily?"

"I severely hope not—for the plant's sake, anyway," Alice replied. "But anyway, one hand is stuck in the stump, the other is shielding my eyes from the massive amounts of pus, and where is my partner? Oh, yeah, Dorcas is sitting on the complete other end of the table, filing her nails. I don't even think she realized that I was there. I mean, how did this girl get into NEWTs?"

"Then how did you tickle the stump?"

Alice stopped and stared at him. "I was just going to say that I had to take off my shoe—without using my hands—and tickle the stump with my toes. You totally just ruined the dramatic effect."

Frank shrugged.

"But, even more, how did you know that? I mean…I thought I was the only person who had realized it. Professor Sprout never mentioned it in class, it's not in the books, it's just"—

"Obvious to anyone who's ever seen a buboter plant," Frank finished with her. "You can just tell that, on the inside, buboter plants are total jokers. Merlin, all they do is trap your hand in their stump, shoot pus at you. They just want a little tickling."

"I know!" Alice exclaimed. "I swear, I can't believe people don't realize this! Well…I can believe Dorcas doesn't realize this, but like, really? Are we the only people who know this?"

"I bet Dumbledore knows it."

"Yeah, but Dumbledore could get an O on the Herbology NEWT without ever taking any Herbology classes in the first place."

The two broke out simultaneously into laughter.

As the first to regain her composure (though it took a few battles with giggling fits), Alice smiled at Frank, and said, "Frank, I'm really glad that I've met you. It's like I can be myself around you, you know?"

"I"—

"Oh, darn it!" Alice winced, as she looked at her watch. "I told a friend I'd meet him five minutes ago. I'd love to stay with here, but I have to go."

And Alice hurried off, once again, to Sirius Black.

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"I heard Pettigrew is fluent in four languages; English, French, Italian, and Latin."

"No! It's Spanish, Chinese, Arabic, and German!"

"Does he not speak English? Because if he doesn't, how exactly does he understand the teachers?"

"He, er… he"—

"Well, whatever the case, I hear that he travels around the world every summer, and has multiple girlfriends in Spain, Japan, Egypt, and Mexico."

"He has more girlfriends than that! They're in Canada, Morocco, Albania, Paraguay, and Australia too!"

"And he carries their books to class! …at least the ones in Hogwarts anyway."

"He has girlfriends in Hogwarts? I've never seen him date anyone in Hogwarts."

"Yeah, that's the point. He only dates girls who already have boyfriends, so he has to date them in private."

"How do you know?"

"I shouldn't tell you this, but I was one of those girlfriends."

"What?"

"Yes, when I was dating Gideon Prewett, remember?"

"You were totally in love with Gideon, I can't believe you'd date someone else."

"Well, I did!"

"Then I should tell you, I dated Pettigrew too."

"No! You've never dated anyone, though! You know he only dates previously engaged girls, right?"

"Yes, but I was so great he made an exception. We met in the broom closet on the sixth floor a lot, and let me tell you, running your hands through his silky hair"—

"I already know! Remember?"

"Shut up. Pettigrew is mine."

"No, I saw him first. I get him. You can have Black."

"Why would I want Black when I could have Peter Pettigrew?"

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Marlene traipsed into the spot where no one could find her. At least, no one better find her.

She had justescaped Peter and his raging fan girls and ran here immediately. What ever happened to her plan to study for Transfiguration? Peter Pettigrew, that's what. If he hadn't bothered to try and get a stupid fan club, then she could be studying in peace now.

Studying for Transfiguration during her free period…too perfect. And quiet with all those snotfaced first and second years in classes. Stupid, loud buggers.

Ah…peace and quiet…. It sounded nice after those rabid fan girls, who probably couldn't define tranquil to save their lives.

With a small smile (Marlene of fifth year would have been horrified to know that she could smile while doing homework), Marlene flipped to chapter seven, and prepared to learn all about—

"Studying for the Transfiguration exam, huh?"

Marlene gritted her teeth, and turned to the perpetrator of her silence and serenity. "Yes, all for thirteen seconds."

"Thirteen's an unlucky number. Haven't you been paying attention in Divination?"

"If you were paying attention in Divination you'd know that I don't take that class."

"Me? Pay attention in Divination? Pft. I'm only in it for the free tea."

Marlene snarled. "Just shut up with your stupid levity. Some of us are trying to study for an exam, because they don't have an innate talent for Transfiguration, Potter!"

James Potter smiled apologetically. "Sorry, McKinnon. I just feel…free today."

"Well, if you keep this up, you'll lose all your freedom when I chain you up in the Slytherin common room," Marlene grumbled, turning back to chapter seven.

James paid no heed. "I mean, I've loved Lily Evans for what? Six, seven years? Rather pathetic, really. Everything I did was about her. You know? I swear, all I did…Wake up in the morning, after a dream about Lily (usually of the wet variety), thinking of Lily, then getting dressed, smoothing everything out to impress her, then heading down to breakfast, not eating anything that'd give me bad breath—so goodbye delicious omelettes—in case Lily decided to snog me that morning. And then I'd start thinking about how to ask her out, and during class I'd only stare at the back of her head. I didn't even mind her slapping me and hexing me. So stupid…"

James sighed, and Marlene took this to mean he was finally finished with his impromptu speech, so she waited for him to leave her table—and her—in peace.

Too bad.

"But today, I woke up, and nothing! Well, maybe I did have another wet dream of the Lily variety, but I'm a hormonal teenage guy; it'll take awhile for that to stop, right? But anyway, the first thing I thought about was shoving Remus off of me, because Sirius and Peter had decided to play Remus-ball again, and since Remus was too engrossed in Jane Eyre to pay attention, he wasn't going to get off me anytime soon, no matter how crushed my poor lungs were getting. Anyway, when I got dressed today, I put on my most crinkled shirt and I was very close to putting on sweatpants, but Sirius reminded me that I had none. But I was still pretty darn close. And at breakfast? I had four—count 'em—four omelettes. With onions and garlic and stuff in them. So freeing I tell you. Then during class, I wasn't thinking of how to ask her out and stuff, and I was paying attention to Flitwick, instead of staring at Lily! It was crazy. And I took notes, and then…then I came here."

Marlene sighed. She had been staring at the title of chapter seven for five minutes now. Stupid James preventing her from concentrating on her stupid book so she could study for the stupid Transfiguration exam. Stupid.

"You came here," she finally said. "So glamorous. Why, with all your freedom, did you come here?"

James scratched his head. "Er…well, Sirius is in the Astronomy tower, Remus is reading Jane Eyre, and Peter is being mobbed by fan girls."

Marlene looked at James blankly. "They've been doing that for seven years now…well if you replace fan girls with Gobstones nerds, yeah, pretty much. They've been doing that for seven years."

James looked at Marlene blankly. "Your point…?"

Marlene sighed once more—why was everyone else an idiot?. "My point being that your friends have been doing that for seven years, and you haven't been coming to me for entertainment those seven years, have you? You were equally entertained by something else."

"What?"

"Well, what again was it that you spent all your time doing back then?"

"…obsessing over Lily," James mumbled to himself.

"See, there's the solution to your problem. Go back and obsess over Lily and let me study alone."

"You're really worked up about this, huh?" James chuckled.

"Yes, well maybe I've been trying to prepare for this exam forever, and would like a chance to actually do so!"

"Determined, huh?"

Marlene dropped her head into her hands. Some guys were just so thick she couldn't help contemplating dumping them completely. "Look, I know it may seem pointless with all the time I have to devote to Peter and his girlish needs and insecurities about the whole fan club business, but I don't want to fail this exam. And I'm going to spend all the time I can studying for it. Some things are worth fighting for, you know. Not that I can do that when you're around. So can you please just leave me alone?"

Unfortunately for Marlene, James had completely ignored the last two sentences, as, in her opinion, they were the most important.

"Some things are worth fighting for," he repeated slowly, rolling the words over his tongue.

Suddenly his eyes lit up, and pulling his bag up onto his shoulder, he dashed out of the library.

"Finally," Marlene muttered to herself, turning back to chapter seven.

Then the bell signaling it was time for Marlene to go to Potions rang.

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"Holy Merlin covered in unicorn turds," Mary swore as she walked into the dungeon. "I thought this was the James Potter fan club."

Hestia Jones shrugged. "We're just broadening horizons."

"Mmmhmmm," Emmeline Vance agreed, through the poster in her mouth, which she was in the midst of tacking up.

"What are you doing here?" Mary asked suspiciously. "I thought you said you'd quit after you got a boyfriend. What's Benjy Fenwick? Sliced liver?"

Emmeline snorted. "No, he's my boyfriend. And I quit the James Potter and Sirius Black fan club—but have you seen Peter Pettigrew?"

"Seeing as his image is plastered all over the room, yes I have. I take it we have a new marauding obsession, huh?"

"Of course," Dorcas Meadowes sighed dreamily.

"No, we do not have a new obsession, Dorcas," announced Rita Skeeter stiffly, striding into the room, pulling down the smiling pictures of Peter after her. "This is the James Potter fan club, and I will not stand for images of that rat spoiling the integrity of it!"

"What a sourpuss," Amelia Bones muttered.

"I am not a sourpuss! I just—I just believe that Pettigrew is not up to the quality of the other Marauders. And again, this is the James Potter fan club!"

"So?" Mafalda Hopkirk asked. "I mean, you have all those posters of Sirius littered around during the James Potter fan club. This is complete thestral shit."

And with that, Mafalda stormed out, leading countless other fan girls with her.

Mary snickered. "Looks like you have a coup on your hands, Skeeter."

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Those footsteps. Those shoes.

Only one person in this school wore Mary Janes that polished.

Alice.

Sirius groaned. And again after he realized he had just given away his position to her.

"What's up?" the buoyant girl asked, sliding onto the bench next to Sirius.

"Er…the Transfiguration exam. I'm studying," Sirius lied, hiding away his pillow and rather impressive doodles.

"Oh," Alice laughed. "Aren't you actually good at that class? I can't see you having to study for it. I mean, since when do you study?"

Sirius had to restrain his mouth from agreeing with her. "Er, well, you never know with McGonagall. Pretty strict, that witch is. Maybe the exam will be really hard. Which is why I'm studying. I do that sometimes. I study, alone. Don't you have an exam you should go off and study for?"

Alice chuckled. "McGonagall is pretty strict. But Dumbledore could go to her class late. And get away with it."

Sirius stared blankly at her. "Because he's the headmaster. He's not her student. It's pretty obvious."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Jeez, it's a joke, idiot. Haven't you ever heard of them? You know, Dumbledore jokes? Before Dumbledore punched it, it was known as Horizontal Alley."

Sirius couldn't help but chuckle then. Stupid traitor mouth. A stupid traitor mouth which continued to say, "Okay, maybe that was funny. But I'm more partial to dumb Slytherin jokes."

"Okay, then," Alice said. "If a Slytherin and a Gryffindor fall off the Astronomy tower, who would hit the ground first?"

Sirius grinned. "The Gryffindor, of course. The Slytherin would have to stop for directions. You really should step up your game. Everyone knows that one."

Alice laughed. "Let's see you do better."

"Avery, Snape, and Mulciber were walking through the woods, and found a set of tracks. Avery said they were rat tracks, Snape said they were dog tracks, and Mulciber said they were deer tracks. Then the Hogwarts Express ran them over."

Alice snorted. "Okay, I've always liked that one—but everyone's still heard it. Really? Can't you do better?"

Sirius smiled wickedly. "Okay, you called me. So, a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw are listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network, and there's this story about Voldemort attacking the Ministry. The Slytherin bets the Ravenclaw ten galleons that Voldemort kills the Minister of Magic. Voldemort doesn't kill the Minister, so the Slytherin hands over the ten galleons. The Ravenclaw says 'I can't take this—I already heard this story' and the Slytherin replied 'So did I; but I was sure that this time Voldemort would kill the Minister.'"

"Alright, I'll give it to you, that was awesome—and so true," Alice snickered. "I may not know that many great jokes, but I do know some. How do you make a Slytherin laugh on Friday? Tell him a joke on Monday!"

"Did you hear about the Slytherin who was locked in the bathroom?"

"He was in there so long he wet his pants," Alice replied. "What do you think I am— stupid?"

"Maybe," Sirius answered, smirking.

"Hey, at least I know what fluxweed is."

"Well, I know what Creepers are!"

"Like from the Fountain of Fair Fortune? Beetle the Bard's story? I know what that is too. It's fictional."

Sirius pouted. "Well, I can sense I'm unloved. Maybe I'll just go and"—

Alice laughed. "I know you're studying for Transfiguration, but maybe you want to study for Herbology. You know where to find me if you want help."

Sirius grinned. "That'd be nice. Thanks."

He gave her a quick hug, collected his pillow and rather impressive doodles, and headed out.

Alice sighed.

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"Hi…I, er, wilugoaouwitme?"

"…pardon?" Peter asked, looking at the stammering girl, whose face was almost as red as Lily Evans' hair.

"Oh, you even speak fancily," the girl sighed.

"What is it that you want again?"

"Will you go out with me?"

"I"—

"NO! Peter, will you go out with me?" another girl ran up crying.

"Me!" a third girl exclaimed.

"He's MINE!" a fourth girl shouted, hugging Peter possessively from behind.

"Ooh, Peter, look," Marlene snickered. "Girls are fighting over you. Been waiting for this for years, huh?"

Peter grinned.

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Lily looked back over at Benjy Fenwick and Emmeline Vance, who were still going at it.

And quickly tore her eyesight back to Hogwarts; A History.

Merlin, she was such a voyeur.

She stopped another attempt to look at the snoggers.

Agrippa, she had hormones.

When one starts to be single (after the conventional mourning period, like the one Lily had after she dumped Gudgeon), they are generally happy about it. Uplifted, so to say. There are so many options, and it's empowering, to be able to live by oneself, and be one's own person, not defined by their significant other.

However, as time drags along, the ecstatic feeling fades, and one starts to crave romance. Maybe it is one's estrogen, or maybe it's the envy of friend's romances, but one starts to crave romance. One starts living vicariously off of friend's romance, and when that isn't enough, starts reading much more Jane Austen (when one's a muggleborn, anyway), and then moves on to one's friends' trashy teenage books, and finally moves on to Madam Pince's "hidden" stack of trashier romance novels.

And nothing makes one feel guiltier than stooping to the level of trashier romance novels.

Lily sighed, as her eyes mutinied, glancing again at Emmeline and Benjy. The only cure was a good does of testosterone.

Which, unfortunately, was not something she could go to the Hospital Wing for.

Marlene had always been good at that. She'd just find a random guy and snog him. Lily had always been against it because she claimed she wasn't a slag like that.

But non-slags don't stare at Emmeline Vance and Benjy Fenwick snogging.

Lily slammed her head down against the table. (Which did succeed in separating Emmeline and Benjy—until they went at it more fiercely a few seconds later. Lily groaned). Soon she'd be so slaggy that she'd be waiting up in the Astronomy tower for a guy to come in that she could make out with.

Marlene did it every other month. She said it was good when she was in a dry spell. (Then again, her dry spells were never longer than a few days).

Lily looked up. She was in a dry spell. And…if waiting in the Astronomy tower worked for Marlene...why wouldn't it work for her?

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"Holy hippogriffs… Pettigrew!" Marlene shouted at the poor boy, staring slack-jawed at the notice board.

"What? Merlin, Marlene, are you okay?" Peter asked concernedly, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Read." She pointed to the magenta pink Marauder Fan Club flyer, on which a piece of paper had been unceremoniously taped. It read:

P.P.S. Due to the annoying fact that while I am TRYING to concentrate on Sirius Black's chiseled abs and plans to have James Potter's baby(s) there are many annoying girls gossiping about the formerly unsexy Peter Pettigrew, whom, according to recent myth, is now sexy, we're establishing the Peter Pettigrew Fan Club. Meetings will be—well, I don't really give a fuck. You guys figure it out yourselves.

Marlene smirked. "And you thought it couldn't be done."

"Um…that was you, Marlene."

"Shut up Pettigrew."