January 22nd, 1977

Dorcas Meadowes never received mail, and that's how she preferred it. She didn't smile when her owl would come during mealtimes like the other students and didn't share the news with her friends. Most times, besides receiving her subscription of the Quibbler, the letters were from the Meadowes' family lawyers or receptionists. And on rare occasions they'd be from her father. Those she often read several times before throwing them into a fire and never thinking about them again. Mail just promoted negativity for her.

So, Dorcas did expect a letter from Mr. Finn, Miss Temple, or even Mr. Gregory Meadowes himself when she received a notice from the Owlery. She didn't anticipate it to be anyone else.

"Fuck me," she whispered with a cough in the cold air. The letter had a fancy seal and was from a Miss Emma Vanity. It had been nearly a month since they had seen each other, and they hadn't corresponded at all.

Dorcas stared at the letter for a long time before even opening the envelope. She scoffed at the fancy ink-seal enclosing the letter before tearing it off. She pulled out the letter, on specialized stationary parchment, and unfolded it.

Dear Dorcas,

Saying I told you so would not be the best way to start this letter, but it has to be said. I told you so.

Dorcas looked up from it and rubbed her eyes. She may have cursed Emma for her accuracy, but a part of Dorcas was just happy to see her old friend's handwriting.

I heard about the Dirk Cresswell accident a few nights back, and I felt the need to reach out to you. I said it while we were in school, but please be careful, Dorcas. Cresswell was just as much of a muggle-born as you are. Whoever did that to him may also be after you. It also seems that scaring students isn't the only objective, but actual physical harm. Or death even.

I know that you can use whatever mind tricks you use to keep yourself guarded, but still. You need to be vigilant. I'm lucky to be out of those walls because I can protect myself inside of walls I've created for my own livelihood. You should do the same.

Chances are you won't listen to me because you have your chin so high in the air that you may as well be Jack and the Bloody Beanstalk. But, I worry for you.

Now, onto something fun!

I am to be married in the Spring!

Dorcas felt the need to vomit come and go.

Carl proposed by the seaside, and it was absolutely marvelous. Until he began hacking blood again, but it's something I can live with. The ring is nearly the size of my face, a pure diamond cut too! And Dorcas, I really want you to be there. We are choosing a date as I write this, so expect another letter from me soon! I expect you also to be at my Bachelorette's Party! Hopefully, Dumbledore will let you and a plus-one come out for such an event! Yes, you do need a date. This not a fucking debate, Dorcas. Got it?

I miss you, Friend.

Take Care,

Emma

Dorcas read through the letter a few more times before finally setting it down beside her. She couldn't believe that her friend would be marrying within the year to a man nearly three times her age. She also couldn't believe that Emma had heard about the Cresswell incident.

The Magical World was on high alert then. Every piece of news seemed like a piece to a never-ending tragedy, and Dorcas couldn't stand it. It was already bad that her mind felt like mush, and she could barely sleep without waking her roommates in the middle of the night, screaming bloody murder. The outside world was hardly the place to escape to.

Everything felt more out of place than it usually did. And for that to happen to a girl with as much baggage as Dorcas Meadowes meant that shit was really hitting the fan.

"No!" Lily Evans cried indignantly. "Are you bloody mental, Marlene? We might as well throw our education away with that plan."

"Ugh, you're no fun sometimes, you know that, right?" grumbled Marlene McKinnon. She flipped her blond curls out of her face as she snuggled further into her jacket, bracing the winter wind.

Lily, Marlene, Emmeline, and Mary were walking together towards Hogsmeade. It was the first Hogsmeade trip since the start of the new term, and the girls were getting a bit stir crazy within the castle walls. Things were getting so hectic at the school that the Professors encouraged the students to leave.

"I'm perfectly comfortable being no fun," Lily shot back, "especially since in this case, it means no expulsions."

"But it's your seventeenth," Mary said as she gave her friend a nudge in the side. "A witch only turns seventeen once."

"I don't need a bubble-bath themed birthday party," insisted Lily.

"Everyone needs a bubble-bath themed birthday," Emmeline countered with a shrug. She ignored the crossed look on Lily's face.

The girls crossed to the bridge into the Hogsmeade village and headed straight for the Three Broomsticks. Inside the pub, it was warm and smelled like vanilla and rain. A few villagers were in and a few groups of Hogwarts students. The girls found a nice corner by the fire and sat close together.

"Hello, Ladies," said Madam Rosemerta, the owner. She was young and rather attractive; the group remembered her when she was at Hogwarts too. "What can I get ya?"

"Green Tea, please," said Emmeline.

"A Butterbeer for me," Mary said, already eyeing the next table's warm drink.

Madam Rosmerta repeated the Hufflepuffs' orders and then looked to the Gryffindors. "And you two?" She added.

"Firewhiskey," Marlene smiled brightly, batting her eyelashes.

Madam Rosemerta raised an amused brow. "It's not even three n the afternoon, McKinnon," she said coolly.

"The perks to being legal while in pursuing academia," shrugged Marlene. "Could you perhaps bring us two cups?"

"Don't push it, McKinnon."

"You would totally give James two cups, and Peter doesn't even look like his sac dropped yet."

The others, including Rosemerta, grimaced at the thought of Peter's reproductive organs.

"I would not," Rosemerta said shortly. "And I don't to give you another either. I'd rather break my own wand than be on Dumbledore's bad said. What would you really like, Evans?"

"Just some coffee," Lily smiled.

"A reasonable afternoon answer," Rosemerta nodded approvingly. She rolled her eyes at Marlene before The turning away and headed back behind the bar.

Marlene made a face behind Rosemerta's back and said to Lily, "I'll give you some anyway."

Lily shook her hand. "I'm good, thanks."

The blond rolled her eyes. "I'm prepping you for bubbles and booze. You have to stick to the training."

"No bubbles on my birthday," the redhead said firmly.

"Are you saying no because you actually don't want to have a spectacular birthday involving shirtless blokes, a plethora of alcohol, and bubbles," Marlene asked, trying out her diplomatic voice, "or are you saying no because you think we'll get in trouble?"

Lily remained silent as her friends eyed her. She imagined hoards of students in their respective swimwear, prancing around like drunken mermaids. Her stomach churned at the thought of their spot being used in such a way.

"I don't want to do it there," she said, looking down at her hands.

The girls paused for a moment and exchanged glances. "Oh, why?" Mary asked.

"Well, er," Lily said, not quite sure how to explain her feelings. "It's just that I don't really want people coming up to our spot, you know? It'll feel invasive, and people will be coming up all the time if they know how nice it is. Maybe I'm just selfish."

"Awe, you're not selfish, Lily," laughed Mary. "I think it's rather sweet. You care!" She poked her friends arm gently with a bright grin on her face.

Lily blushed sheepishly as Marlene and Emmeline joined the laughter. "Wait, so you're not opposed to the bubble-themed idea?" The blond asked mischievously.

There was a moment of hesitation before Lily said yes, causing the three girls to scream in delight. A few students watched as they hugged Lily tightly.

"Okay, okay, get off," Lily laughed as she shoved her friends off. "You think one of the other bathrooms would work?"

"The only other one with a bath as large is in the dungeon," Emmeline explained. "And it's always crawling with Slytherins. I don't know if you want students like Talkalot and Avery at your celebration."

Lily nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm good without them. I don't want it too big in general," she said as she gave Marlene a glare. "Seriously."

"Speaking of Sirius things," Mary pipped up. "Are you going to invite the Marauders?"

Lily's eyes widened. She hated her vivid imagination as it showed her scenarios of the four blokes running around in their knickers amongst the rest of their friends. It would naturally be a disaster - James Potter would do something irritable because that's what he always does.

Nothing particularly irritable recently, a quiet voice in her head reminded her.

And it was true. Lily recognized that she and James had been getting along rather decently the past few weeks. They'd sit together during meals, speak to each other before classes, and even share a few laughs. Of course they'd bicker; for Agrippa's sake, he was James Potter, and she was Lily Evans. It might as well have been in their blood and could be rather fun at times.

"Better question," Marlene said interrupting Lily's thought process. "Greyson?"

"Naturally," Lily said.

"Well, if you're inviting boys, why not the Marauders?" Marlene suggested. "And Dearborn for our Virgin Mary," she added, poking at Mary's cheeks.

"Oh, bugger off," Mary hissed, slapping the blond's hands away. She looked to Lily as she defended herself against Marlene's finger invasion. "Are you going to invite Dearborn?" She asked quickly, her cheeks turning bright pink.

Lily smirked as she gave her friend an appraising glance. "If you want me to."

Mary couldn't contain herself as the corners of her mouth from curling upward. It spoke for itself. Lily knew that her friend had a crush on the Hufflepuff prefect since their fourth year, and she chose a wonderful option. Caradoc Dearborn was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Lily was unsure of his ethnic background, but he had caramel skin, large dark eyes, and an incredible smile. He was a bright and kind student who had always treated everyone with respect. He introduced her to Connor too.

"Well, that answers that. Dearborn is definitely coming," Lily said as Mary kept smiling to herself. "That does leave the question of how we are going to make this co-ed," she added tiredly.

"The boys bathrooms are accessible to girls too," a deep voice revealed.

The girls looked up to see James Potter standing above them with their drinks. "How do you reckon that?" asked Marlene.

James scoffed as he passed them their drinks. "Ah, you really wanna hear all the randy details, Marls? It involves one of the girls you sleep next to at night-"

Emmeline and Mary exchanged glances as Marlene grimaced. "Oh, no thank you," insisted Lily as she reached out for coffee. "I don't need the visuals."

James chuckled as he bent down in a squat. He leaned his arms on the edge of the table and rested his chin on them. "You'd be ever so blessed, Evans."

"You wish, Potter."

"Of course. Right along with my nightly prayers."

Lily scoffed at the thought of James kneeling beside his bed with his hands pressed together, talking to God. "What is it you were saying about the boys' bathroom?" She asked, trying to switch gears.

"Girls can enter the boys' bathroom," James said, "it's like the dormitories. Boys slid out of the girls' bathroom, and girls can waltz into ours. Wait, you two never been in?" He asked, pointing to his cousin and Emmeline. "I mean, Cousin, you've had many… friends, of sorts… and I know that you haven't been just holding hands with Vance for the past year now, Kim."

"Some people don't think entirely with their reproductive organs," Emmeline countered.

"You telling me you haven't shagged Vance?" scoffed James.

"No," Emmeline countered, "I'm telling you it's not your business."

James put his hands up defensively and nodded, "Fair, fair." He cleared his throat before saying, "For whatever you ladies are up to, there is a bathroom on the seventh floor for the boys that has a beautiful fountain of a pool. Ah, you should the urinals."

"Charming," Marlene murmured. "Do we need to come in with a boy, or can we walk right in? Like with the dorms?"

"Walk right in," James shrugged. "Planning an orgy? Am I invited?"

The girls all verbalized their displeasure at the thought of an orgy in Hogwarts. Chances are it has already happened in one of the castle nooks, but no one really needed an image to go along with it.

"We're planning Lily's seventeenth," Marlene explained proudly. "Bubble-bath themed too."

James smiled mischievously and looked to Evans. He had an excited look on his face, making Lily want to smack him for it. His words surprised her though. "You thought of this little theme?"

"No," laughed Lily. "It was your cousin's."

"Aren't I spectacular?" Marlene sighed as she flipped her curls out of her face.

"More like perverted," Mary countered.

Marlene punched Mary in the shoulder. "Oh, come on, Marls," laughed Mary, "you would be the one to concoct this plan. You're the Gatsby of the school."

Marlene pursed her lips. "I do like the sound of that."

James watched as the four girls laughed together and joined them. "I could help you with the party, if you want?" He offered to Lily once their laughter died down a little.

The ginger gave James a doubtful look. "No offense, Potter, but we have Gatsby here to do her favorite thing," Lily noted. "Why would I need your help?"

James cleared his throat and stood up. "Well, you need someone to first clear out the boy's bathroom for you. I don't know how long you'd need to set-up, but I don't reckon you want to run any cocks, do you?"

Marlene took a deep breath in and let it out very slowly. "I never want to heat you use that word again," she whispered slowly as if recovering from a punch to the gut. If she weren't so traumatized herself, Marlene would've noticed Lily's cheeks flush.

"Either way, it's true, right?" James continued. "Also, I'm a terrific party planner. I could be a… a handler."

"A handler?" Lily asked, recovering from the audible shock. "What do you mean by that?"

"A witch only turns seventeen once," he smirked. His hazel eyes even smiled at her too.

"See?!" Mary exclaimed. "That's what I said too, Potter. Lily just doesn't listen to people with specks it seems."

Without even taking his eyes of Lily, James agreed, "Seems that way."

Lily rolled her eyes and had a clever retort that would put James back on his knees, but she was interrupted by someone calling out to her target.

"Potter?"

The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs looked back to see Camilla Henley approaching. Lily noticed how well-put together Camilla looked, especially considering the last couple of days. Her eyes were still a bit puffy, but she put in effort to appear… her usual self. She wore a long trench coat, an olive baret, and soft pink lipstick. Lily's eyes darted between James and Camilla.

"Hi, Henley," James smiled as he turned to her. "I was just waiting for you and ran into my cousin and her friends in the process."

"I see," Camilla said in a quiet voice. She gave them a small smile and waved, "Afternoon."

James turned back to the four girls, who were sipping their drinks together. They all peered up at him with knowing eyes. "Enjoy your drinks," he said, giving the girls a final nod. He turned to walk away, but returned immediately after Lily called out for him. He looked at her, and it happened again.

Lily did that thing to him where she just looks at him - directly into his pupils - and nearly electrocutes him with her intensity. "I accept," she said in a serene voice.

"Accept what?" James asked quietly, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

"You as my handler for the party," Lily finished quickly. "But, we can talk later or something. You should go with Henley."

"You won't be let down," James said as he turned around, trying not to look back at her. But forward to Camilla who was waiting patiently for him. "Sorry about that," He said to Camilla.

"It's okay," Camilla smiled. "Where would you like to sit?"

James shrugged and motioned towards a round table further in the back. The two walked over to the corner, and James played the part of the perfect gentleman as he pulled out the seat for Camilla. He relished the small blush that spread across her cheeks, but was quickly distracted. His cousin and her friends peaked over the top of their booth, but once James noticed, they all snapped their heads away. His smile continued to grow, delighted by the thought of Evans sneaking glances at him.

He shouldn't be though, because he was so over Lily Evans.

"I'll get us some drinks," James offered, returning to his role as gentleman. "What would you like?"

"Oh, hot chocolate, please," she smiled, She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a few sickles. "Here. I did say I would treat you for doing this."

James put up his hand. "I got this," he said, backing away. He smirked when Camilla's expression changed from hesitant to amused.

"Thanks."

James nodded politely before ordering their drinks with Madam Rosemerta. "Mind spiking mine with some fire whiskey?" he asked as he leaned over the counter top a bit.

Rosemerta snorted without looking at the Gryffindor. She pushed him off her counter and said, "Not a chance, Potter. You're almost at seventeen, you can wait."

"Awe, come on," crooned James, "Rosie, I got a date."

Her face hardened and looked up at the boy. "Are you asking me to spike a drink, Potter?" She asked in accusatory tone. "You're better than that-"

"Whoa, whoa," James said quickly, "I'd never spike a bird's drink! Merlin, Rosie, who do you think I am?"

Rosemerta raised her eyebrows. "Good, I would hope not," She said in a final tone.

"It's for me," James continued cautiously, still rather offended. "A bit of liquid courage never hurt anyone."

She peered over to Camilla and then back at James. "You dating Henley now, ay?" She asked curiously, charming the teacup to fetch its hot chocolate. "I thought you had a thing for Evans."

James shrugged, "We're just friends."

Rosemerta scoffed as she poured James' tea. "Sure," she said, clearly unconvinced. She passed the two cups to James and patted his hand lightly. "Believe that as much as you'd like, Potter."

"The Hell does that mean?" he asked, gaping at the pub owner as she walked away.

The pubowner waved him off as she tended to another customer, rendering the conversation over. James had to admit the former Hogwarts student was bloody hot, but she was a confusing witch. He hoped that it was just her temperament, not the progression of female maturity. He couldn't take anymore confusion from Hogwarts girls. He walked away in defeat as he brought the cups over to his table with Camilla, trying his best not to consider Rosie's words.

"Thank you," Camilla said as she took her teacup gently out of his hands. She rested it on the table and pulled out her notebook and quill. She tapped it lightly with her wand, causing it come to life. "Ready when you are."

James sat down across from her, crossing his legs. He took a quick sip of his tea before clarifying, "You want me to talk about women in Quidditch? That's pretty broad." He chuckled a bit at the end.

Camilla's laugh was soft, like a wind chime. "Yes, I suppose it is. I'm interested more specifically at females playing Quidditch at Hogwarts. You know, it's only been recently that girls have been accepted onto team's. There were a few here and there, but these past five years has had more female players than there have ever been."

"Yeah, my dad told me that," James commented. "When he attended Hogwarts, there were only two female Quidditch players in the whole school."

"What year was that?"

"Hm… he graduated in 1928?" James murmured, unsure. He actually felt a pang of embarrassment that he didn't know his father's graduation year. He looked through his father's yearbooks some many times as a kid; he should've know that.

"Wow," Camilla whispered, "You're father is rather, er,…"

"Old?" James smirked.

Camilla blushed again and nodded, "Yeah. I didn't want to say it."

"My parents didn't expect to have me. My mum was considered infertile, and she had incredible potion skills. She did fertility potion after fertility potion, but nothing worked for years. They got lucky one night, I guess," James explained. A gentle smile appeared on his lips that Camilla had never seen before. "They called me their miracle child for a while."

Camilla laughed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at him. She wagged her eyebrows and revealed, "You know, my parents called me that too."

"Really?"

"Yep. I was born so early that the doctors - you know, muggle Healers - thought I wouldn't be able to survive life… outside, in the world?" She explained. James watched her closely as he leaned back in his chair a little. "I couldn't breathe on my own; my lungs were too underdeveloped. They said I wouldn't be able to last six weeks."

James' eyes followed Camilla's as hers looked down at teacup. She circled the cup with the tip of her index finger. "But, after three days of life, the doctors said my lungs developed drastically. They began to grow to their appropriate size," she continued before looking up, with a smile, "like magic."

"Like a miracle," James nodded with a smile. He put up his cup for a toast and motioned for Camilla to join him. "To miracle babies?"

Camilla laughed, and James had to admit that the girl had an infectious and adorable one. "To miracle babies," she agreed as she lifted her own cup. They clinked them together before taking a warm swig. "I'll have to do my fair share of editing with these notes," Camilla commented as she peered at her charmed quil, jotting notes at a rapid pace.

"Yes, yes," James said as he rested his cup down. "I have a tendency to make things about myself."

"At least you're interesting."

"Please don't inflate my ego further. My head can only get so big."

Camilla shrugged and then leaned back. "Talk to me about your thoughts on some of the female Quidditch players? About their skill?"

"I can only speak for Gryffindor House," James said honestly, "and our female players are fantastic. I mean, Winchester is one of the fastest flyers I've ever seen; Tanaka could probably dodge a killing curse; and we both know that Hestia has the eye of a Hippogriff. I urge female students to try out more; I urge anyone to try out for Quidditch. Good players are good players."

"Black and white sort of guy?" Camilla asked. "Off the record, of course."

"It's easier that way," James replied indifferently.

She told the quill to scratch out that last part before returning back to the topic at hand. "Hestia is a powerhouse," she agreed. "But you may be biased for the sake of Gryffindor pride. Are there are any female players that have caught your eye? Anyone you would want one your team?"

"Sure," James answered enthusiastically. "Bloody Hell, I mean you've seen Dorcas Meadowes in action. She's a talent."

Camilla raised an eyebrow because no one ever really mentions Dorcas Meadowes. Sure, the sixth year Slytherin was stunning and mysterious, but she was also a bit creepy and eerie. "How so?" Camilla asked trying to hide her peaked interest.

"First of all," James leaned in, as if telling a secret, "not just anyone can do the job of beater. You need to be strong, a lot of upper arm strength."

"Is it surprising that a girl has upper arm strength?" She challenged.

"Certainly not," he countered, "I've seen her right hook used on my best mate. It was not pretty." They both chuckled a bit as their minds flashed back to last term, during the Gryffindor/Slyhterin game. In the stands, Camilla could swear she heard Black's jaw bone break.

"I remember that."

"If she were in Gryffindor, I'd pick her over Sirius," James laughed jokingly. "But seriously, Meadowes isn't just strong. She's also vigilant." She waited for James to continue, interested where he was going to go with this. "I go to every Quidditch game, even if it's not Gryffindor's, to observe tactics and whatnot. I've seen her during every game; her focus is remarkable. She can almost sense the movements of the other players, maybe even the ball."

"Meadowes is a bit… off, don't you think?" Camilla asked after a moment.

"I think she's a rather brilliant player," James shrugged.

Camilla ground her teeth a bit before telling her quill to scratch her last question, doubting Dorcas Meadowes' character.

Dorcas stood outside of Dogweed and Death, the local herb store, with a cigarette dangling off her lips. She had her hands pressed into her pockets and pulled out her list. She needed more ingredients for a stronger sleeping potion; she was just missing something. What she would do for seven hours of uninterrupted sleep? No nightmares, no cold sweats, and no fucking staring at her bedpost for hours and hours.

It was a bit strange, and downright creepy for Dorcas to do this, but when she stayed up late at night, waiting for sleep to take her, she'd listen to her dorm mates' dreams. And those weren't particularly friendly. She'd sometimes hear of their blood supremacist ideologies laced into their dream content. She constantly felt nauseous listening, but for some reason, that was better than her own dreams.

Dorcas' dreams concocted some nasty shite that she prefers to repress the moment her eyelids open up. Some of it lingers within the day - the hissing, the breath on her neck, and the loud cackling - it made everything feel predatory. Someone was constantly following her. She's always been paranoid, but recently it's been off the charts. She despised this powerless feeling inside of her, churning at every moment.

She felt it now. That follower feeling.

Dorcas.

Her head snapped up. The voice was clear this time, more clear than ever before. She reached into her pocket and grabbed her wand desperately. She scanned her surroundings calmly, but everything seemed rather normal.

Dorcas.

Dorcas shivered, and it wasn't due to the chilly temperatures. The voice was different this time. She didn't like how tranquil and casual the voice sounded when calling her name. No one around was looking at her even. She saw a few students and locals meandering about, but nothing out of the usual. It looked so simple until she saw Remus Lupin leaning against the side of the building. Her eyes widened into saucers as he gave her a cordial wave.

Hi, Dorcas.

Dorcas' jaw clenched, but released her grasp on the wand. She glared at him, fixing her icy gaze onto him. He gave her a weak smile before adding mentally, I hope you're too not mad. I don't know how often you let people contact to you like this.

Dorcas scoffed as she rubbed her forehead. No one had ever known of her telepathic abilities before, besides her Professors, and it made her feel violated. She chucked her cigarette and said in a blunt voice, "It's weirder if we just stare at each other?"

Remus smirked to himself before approaching Dorcas. She waited for him to approach her, and they were just centimeters apart when she finally asked, "What do you want, Remus?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," Remus said in a honest voice. "You've barely been showing up to classes, and truthfully, you look like a drug-addict or a zombie the times you do."

"Didn't Sirius tell you? Didn't you send Sirius to talk to me?" She countered hotly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Firstly," Remus retorted coolly, "I did not send Sirius out to talk to you; he did that on his own. And secondly, I wanted to see for myself."

This caught the Slytherin off-guard, and the Gryffindor continued to surprise her. He stepped even closer to her; it seemed like that a magazine would be able to sick between them if they tried. He lifted her chin slightly, and for a moment, Dorcas wanted to smack herself for letting him come so close to her. She, however, could not deny the pleasant sensation his calloused fingers felt against her soft skin.

"You're not well, Dorcas," he whispered softly.

Enough of that, Dorcas' reasoning insisted. Dorcas gulped as she took a step back from his touch. "I'll be fine," she said firmly. "I always am. I'm more interested as to why you are so concerned with me anyway?"

Remus shifted his jaw left and right for a moment. He had an answer, but it wasn't a good one. So he just said nothing and looked at her, hoping that she would read his mind. And for once, she did.

I want you to be safe.

"Why?" Dorcas asked in an accusatory tone. "What? Is it if I'm not safe, then you must be thinking that your secret isn't safe too?"

"Merlin, no!" Remus snapped. "It's just… well… it's just what?"

"What, Remus?" She asked impatiently.

He rubbed his temples, trying to calm his heart rate down. How did this conversation become so heightened so quickly? "For fuck's sake, you're a bloody ligilmens!" Remus spat. "Just fucking listen to me."

Dorcas gave Remus an appraising look, and right before she took down her mental wall, she stopped herself. She didn't need to know the actual thought process of Remus' mind because Dorcas already figured it out. Just by the look on his scarred face - the locked jaw, frustrated glare, and furrowed brow. She bit her lip and just stared back for a moment.

"Well," Remus asked, tapping his foot, "did you?"

Dorcas tapped her toes against the crunchy snow and looked down. "Don't have to," she murmured quietly.

He gave her a look of disbelief. "Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Then what did I think?"

She looked up at Remus and stared into his eyes. "You care about me," she said in a soft, yet clear voice.

Remus noted the solemn look on her face. "Why is that such a bad thing to you?"

"I slept with Sirius," Dorcas said in a slow tone, as if it were obvious.

"I am aware…"

Dorcas grimaced. "Is that like a thing you Marauders do? Hop from bird-to-bird?"

Remus scoffed and wiped a hand over his mouth in disbelief. "I'm not talking about sleeping with you," he admitted after a long moment.

Pause.

"Oh." Dorcas felt her stomach drop. She would rather be sleeping and dealing with her nightmares right about now, instead of looking at Remus in the eyes.

Remus chuckled and licked his lips. "Wanna take that peak into my mind now?"

She said nothing as she peered her eyes slowly up into his. She took a deep breath before she dropped her mental wall. The wall kept people's mental voices muddled, like white noise. Dropping it meant letting a lot of things in: experiences, secrets, and plain old stuff that just wasn't her business. Here goes nothing.

Remus' mind was naturally harder to read than most, especially in comparison to those who he surrounded himself with. Potter wore his heart on his sleeve; Sirius hid his problems through denial and sarcasm; and Pettigrew's anxiety kept his mind in a constant state of alert. Remus' mind, on the other hand, developed since she last listened to it so intensely. The last time was in her third year, while she was still learning how to block out the voices. His mind was once nervous and paranoid; intense emotions like that made the mind easier to read. Now, it was muddled and cloudy. He hid his experiences and secrets with uncertainty; Remus was so unsure of his own memories that Dorcas could barely grasp them. However, she could see the one thing he wanted her to.

It was them talking during New year's, just talking. It was his memory of it, and even though she could sense Remus' initial fear knowing that someone else was aware of his lycanthropy, he also felt a sense of comfort.

And only because it was Dorcas. Experiencing that conversation through Remus this time unnerved her. She could feel his heart racing as they talked, and her focus followed his eyes as he eyed her that night. But, no, the 'hyper-awareness' was just a latent feeling. The real emotion that he felt was… comfort and camaraderie. It was the same feeling, in a lesser degree, that Remus felt for the rest of the Marauders, Marlene McKinnon, and Lily Evans.

"I view you as a friend, Dorcas," Remus said in a gentle voice. "And for someone else with just as big of a secret to hide, I know that it may be good for you too."

Dorcas eyed Remus carefully but said nothing. She could read that Remus meant his words. "All of a sudden felt this need tor reach out to me?" She asked, trying to evade replying immediately.

"That's a two-way street, Meadowes," Remus countered coolly. "You've been avoiding the classes recently. You're a hard bird to catch ahold of."

Dorcas chuckled as she let the mental wall re-stack itself gently, but efficiently. She looked at the boy before her and said, "Friends have never been a strong suit of mine."

"Me neither," Remus revealed nonchalantly.

The two smiled at each other awkwardly. Remus shifted his weight back and forth on his feet slightly before posting to the entrance of the Herb store in front of them. "Well, this could be an ample opportunity to try and start. You're going in here?"

Dorcas nodded. "I need to alter my sleeping potion," she explained sheepishly.

"I could join you?" Remus tried. The awkwardness was inevitable at this point, and he decided to just roll with it.

Dorcas didn't really know what to say, because she had never really done this before. And Emma Vanity was not a shinning example for friendship beginnings. She bit her lip before shrugging, "Okay."

Remus smiled brightly, taking a moment to appreciate the slight win. He opened the door for her and took a little bow.

"Bloody Hell, Lupin," chuckled Dorcas, "I'm socially awkward, not a fucking hermit." She walked past him and past the threshold. "I can hold my own door."

"Just trying to lighten the mood," Remus reassured as he followed her inside. He didn't know why he sounded so confident and so pleased to be making friends with the one person who could destroy him in several different ways. But, it felt like the best thing that had happened to him, in a long time.

A/N - Here you go, friends! I hope you are enjoying the development so far. Thank you for all the encouraging support and comments. It means so much!

Rose