March 3rd, 1977

Charms ran late on Wednesday, and the sixth year NEWT students were visibly displeased. Professor Flitwick insisted on reviewing the detailed criterion for an upcoming examination in nonverbal spell use; he reviewed each section on the paper he had already given out. Redundancy was Flitwick's preferred method of teaching.

Dorcas Meadowes sat calmly amongst the jittery students. Less time in the halls meant less time hearing even more voices. She preferred smaller groups of human interactions, less energy to focus on pushing her wall up.

Although all of the NEWTs were fidgeting, there was one in particular that stood out to Dorcas. She acknowledged that she was already trying not to focus on him, but truthfully, it was hard to keep her eyes off of Remus Lupin. In the past couple of days, she noticed Remus' irritability and his red eyes. The full moon was two nights away. Right now, waiting looked like he was being electrocuted.

Once Flitwick dismissed the students, Dorcas tried not to stare as Remus dashed out of the classroom. He was the first one, and it looked like he was about to hurl with his pale face and clutched stomach. And from the looks of his muddled mind, he was going to do so very soon. A small part of her wanted to offer support, but it was small.

Dorcas gathered her books, in no rush to enter the Hogwarts' halls. She patted them against her desk and was the last one out, or so she thought. A dark figured appeared above her. Without even looking at him, Dorcas knew this bold intrusive mind. "Can I help you, Potter?" she asked without looking up, shoving her books into her bag.

"Wait, you don't know what I'm thinking right now?" James asked, genuinely curious.

Dorcas closed her eyes. She looked up at him after a minute and said, "If you really want me to, yes, I can, but I prefer if you used your big boy words and talk to me like the adult you are about to be in a few weeks." She added a short mock smile at the end.

James' eyes widened. "How do you know that my birthday's in a few weeks?"

"It's something that you think about often and loudly," She revealed, now a tad bit ashamed for knowing that.

James gave her a look, as if he did not know the intensity of his own thoughts. "What else do I think about that frequently?"

Dorcas groaned, "No, we aren't doing this-"

"It's my brain, Meadowes."

She wiped a hand over her face and spoke rapidly, "Your snog session with Lily is always lingering now, but other than that, I can't hear much else. Your natural skill for occulmens isn't so bad, which probably comes with the fact that you are a good liar. But, can we please move on now?"

James opened his mouth, because he had a lot of questions but decided not to further enrage the Slytherin ligilmens. She knew too much and could ruin social lives (which really wasn't her style, but James utilized constant vigilance). Instead, he said, "You've got to cut Remus some slack."

Dorcas jerked back as if he had slapped her in the face with a frunuculus spell. She sucked her teeth and said, "Never mind. We can resume our conversation about Evans anytime you'd like." She stood up quickly and headed for the door.

"It's been two weeks now," James tried again, following her out into the Hallway. "He's not very good with people being mad at him. He's a sensitive wolf, aye?"

Dorcas ignored him, but knew this to be true. Although Remus was one of the more proficient occulmens, she could still read him in different ways. He'd sneak peeks at her in class and occasionally would apologize mentally. With the full moon approaching, he looked less at her and more at students, imagining them ripping limb from limb.

"I know that," Dorcas replied firmly, still walking ahead.

"Then give him a chance to make it up to you," James insisted, catching up to her. He bent down to ear-level. "He's going through a tough time," he added in a whisper.

Like I don't know, Dorcas almost said. She turned to James and gave him a final glare. He was still bent down, so they were eye-to-eye (or glasses-to-eye). She narrowed her ice blue eyes into his warm hazel ones. "James," she said, causing him to gulp at the use of his first name, "don't make me enter your mind and show you the really dark and annoying shite I'm dealing with right now." He was never really into threats, but that actually sounded rather nauseating. "I want to forgive, Remus, but I don't have time or patience when my mind is literally everywhere else, " Dorcas finished.

James couldn't possibly understand what she was going through - he knew that. But he had to try. "Then let him make it easier for you," he offered quietly.

Dorcas let out a sigh. She looked as though she had run a marathon. "Maybe later, Potter," she said in a tone that meant she was done talking. The dark-haired girl walked away, leaving James Potter in the middle of the hallway.

Why did birds have the tendency to leave him, just like that? It was ruddy annoying, and he desperately hoped it wasn't due to his odor. Quidditch made him paranoid.

James trudged down the stairs alone. Sirius and Peter had gone to take care of Remus since James had to go finish two Muggle Studies Assignment before class later that day. They would rotate when work was heavy, so that they all wouldn't fail. Sometimes, like today, the three non-lycanthropes would pitch in to finish his homework for him. So, James walked to the library with the intention of finding a quiet corner desk and finishing off all his and Remus' homework so he could focus on the upcoming Quidditch match against Hufflepuff next weekend.

He gave a charming smile to Madam Pince, whom rolled her eyes in return. James did his best not to chuckle, which sounded like a nice hum. His would-be chuckle quickly turned a full-on cough with the sight right before him.

Lily Evans was standing right before him, waving to him. In broad daylight. Or, cloud-light because Scotland springs were made of gloom. She had a couple of books in hand and gave him a tender smile, like she actually didn't hate seeing him.

James waved back, like an idiot.

She approached him, looking a bit unsure of her steps. Was Lily Evans blushing? James pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Hi," she said. She spoke in a voice that made James realize that she was hiding something.

James checked his corners with a hand on his chest. He looked back to an irritable Lily and asked, "Oh, oh, you're speaking to me?" He regretted it immediately - it was too easy to become a prat in front of her.

"Yes, yes, I am," she said awkwardly. "And I deserve that."

James let out a whistle. "Call the Prophet! Call the Prophet!" he shouted, not caring that Madam Pince aimed a piece of chalk at his head. He dodged rather artfully, which annoyed the librarian even more. He gave a slight bow to his Professor as an indifferent apology.

"Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?" Lily insisted, dragging him by the sleeve back out of the library. "Merlin, you're annoying."

"Is that why you kissed me?" He asked, smiling.

Lily ignored him and only stopped dragging him once they reached a secluded corner. James' ego hoped for another snog, but she kept her distance from him. A full arm's length. "We have to talk about that."

"Or we could do it again?" James got punched in the arm.

"Focus!"

"Okay, okay," He said, rubbing his bicep tenderly. "I'm listening. Actually listening."

"Good," Lily said with a huff. There was a pause before she revealed, "It wasn't so bad."

James wanted to smack himself in the face now, wondering again if he were in a dream. "I'm sorry, Pardon?"

"I enjoyed it," she said as if it were obvious.

James scratched his head. "So, we can do it again?" he tried again, trying to figure the ginger out.

"No," she said simply. "Definitely not."

"Okay, I'm officially lost."

"James, you're with Henley," she said, exasperated. "And she really fancies you."

James immediately felt a pang strike his chest. There it was, the ultimate cockblock: guilt. It was not an emotion he particularly enjoyed, and rarely felt it. But right now, yes, he did finally feel it. He had been trying to ignore that emotional bit since he had snogged Lily on the staircase, but now that she was the one clarifying it, his feelings were hard to ignore.

"I promised Henley that I wouldn't interfere with you two, that there was nothing between us."

Her voice had softened, and James could see right through those clear emerald green eyes. He could see the damage from the literal war raging on in her brain, because Lily Evans always had to do the right thing. It may as well have been in her DNA.

"Is there something between us?" James asked, unable to help himself at this point. He needed clarity. "Is there something for me to be guilty about?"

Lily tugged on her lower lip with her teeth and let it plop. It was her nervous tick that had always made James want to kiss her, ever since he had noticed it in their third year.

It was harder to contain now since he already know what her lips tasted like, and James dying to try to taste them again. But, he had to wait patiently for an answer. They were so close.

"No," Lily said. "There isn't."

"You're the one who kissed me," he reminded her immediately, failing to push his aggression aside. "Just in case we've forgotten."

Lily groaned, lolling her head back. He enjoyed the sight of the creamy columns of her neck.

Focus, Potter.

"Why do you have to make this more difficult?" She insisted, snapping her head back to face him. "You and I both know we're attracted to each other. Yes, I admit it. But, that doesn't mean anything."

"Ow, my ego. Go fetch Poppy for me?"

"Can you be serious for once in your life?!"

James smirked. "I don't think Sirius is the reason why you kissed me."

Lily tugged at the roots of her hair. "You're such a prat! It's like talking to a Shrunken Head."

"Oh, Evans, you're making this too easy."

Lily did her very best not to punch him again. Instead, she took a deep breath and counted to three. This calm tactic was new to James, and he watched with care as her chest heaved. He was practically watering at the mouth. His lips dried once he saw her now stone cold face.

"This is what I'm talking about, James."

"I think this is rather fun."

"Our attraction to each other is rather limited, mainly to bickering sessions that lead into… well, this. We never talk about what's important."

James felt that it was his cue to step closer to her and followed that instinct. However, her instinct was to step away. Lily give him a firm look and said, "It's not happening again. All of this makes me feel incredibly bad. And I already felt bad before, and you know that."

He didn't want to admit remembering that bit of their conversation, back in the Shrieking Shack. It had felt like a lifetime ago.

"So, I'm asking you, James, to do the best thing for both of us. Please don't let us get carried away again."

James said nothing, just looked at her. The impulsive desire to kiss decreased, and instead felt a need to hold her. He wanted to say that she was wrong, that denying each other would be the complete opposite of good for them. But, that look on her face was desperate; he never thought he'd describe her as desperate.

"You're right," he muttered.

Lily's eyes widened. "I am?"

"Yes, you are. About all of it."

"O-oh, why the sudden change?"

James gave her a look, as if she were yearning to be hexed into next week. It was his only explanation he would provide.

Lily raised her eyebrows, suspicious of what rattled around in James' mind. However, she knew that she mustn't doubt it because if she did, they'd start all over again about their attraction and whatnot. So, she simply stated the facts, one more time, for good measure: "We are attracted to one another, but we aren't interested in dating each other. We are simply… mates, correct?"

"Correct, Professor," James said dryly. "Am I excused from lecture now?"

Just when she thought they had made progress, of course he had begun to regress. "James, please," she demanded in a soft yet stern voice. "It's about damn time we settled this."

James scoffed, "Evans, it's finished. As you want it. I won't go chasing after you. I really won't, because well, this constant game of tag really isn't doing it for me anymore."

Lily felt as if she had been struck in the face. Her jaw fell slack as she watched him brush past her. She wanted to call out to him, demanding his amicability. But, then a lightbulb went on in her head: she was in position to make anymore demands. She had gotten what she wanted.

Or, so she thought.

"Oy, Mary! Mary! Oh, C'mon, lighten up, MacDonald!" shouted Robert Vance with his tawny brown hair flowing in the air.

"I'm in no mood to talk with you, Vance," she glared through her glasses as they entered the Hufflepuff common room. When he tried to reach out to grab her, Mary gave him a deadly glare. It was hard to elicit such a dark expression from the kind witch, so Robert knew immediately not to touch her. "Good choice," she added.

"Just one minute," he begged, a sound that Mary had never heard before in her six years of knowing the boy.

"Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…" Mary began.

Robert made a face. "You've been hanging out with McKinnon too much."

"Fifty-five," she continued.

"You know I love Emmeline," he said quickly.

"Fifty-four…" her voice softening.

"I really do, Mary. Yes, she's a bloody handful but I guess that's what I like about her."

"But?" She suggested for him, knowing that there was always a 'but' in times like these.

Vance took a deep a breath and gave Mary a look that reminded her of a beaten puppy. "My parents have intentions for me that don't allow me to be in a relationship with her."

Mary looked taken back. It was a loaded statement, but he still managed to remain vague. So, it was only natural for Mary's mind to go the worst possible option. "Your parents are death eaters?" She asked, tilting to see him past her glasses.

"Merlin, no!" Vance shouted, too loudly. A few students turned their head at the pair that just entered. He let out a hardy cough, beating his chest. "They are not Death Eaters, nor are they blood supremacists. But they are scared."

Mary wanted to roll her eyes, but held back the sensation. Robert Vance came from a decent wizarding family with one parent in the Ministry and another as a Qudditch Announcer. It wasn't like he was a muggle-born with an unsuspecting family. Every time that Mary tried to explain the War to her folks, they'd almost laugh it off. "Magic Wars," they'd say, "that sounds like the making of a good epic." Vance had no idea what it really meant to be scared.

When Vance realized that he was gaining no sympathy from his housemate, he added, "My last name may be Vance, but my mother's maiden name is Malfoy."

Mary's eyes widened. Okay, now that was a new bit of information. Emmeline had never mentioned that, but Mary couldn't blame her. He probably wanted to keep it a secret. "You're a Malfoy?" She asked quietly.

"According to my blood records, yes, I am in fact a Malfoy," he said sadly. "Which makes my mother a…"

"Blood traitor," Mary finished. Now, she could understand the fear. For some pure-bloods, blood traitors were worse than muggle-borns. "Oh…"

"And her family has been threatening us by refusing to give us my mother's inheritance. They even came into our house this summer while we were gone on vacation. They stole some of her jewelry and killed our cat."

Mary gasped, clutching her hand over her mouth. "Robert, I'm so sorry. That's awful."

Vance nodded. "It's not your fault, but it has scared the shite out of my mother. She wonders when they're going to do something next all the time." He rubbed his forehead and said, "My mum wants to appease them somehow."

"Somehow?" Mary repeated.

Robert looked around and saw that there were too many witnesses present. He motioned for Mary to follow him so that they could sit on the empty bean bag chairs in a secluded corner. Once he plopped down, he took a long breath. "They want me to marry back into a pure blood family, or semi-pure blood. You know, a well known family."

"And that would be the Talkalot family?" Mary asked, trying to keep her cool.

Vance nodded without looking at her. Just by the way he was staring at his hands, Mary could tell that this was just as much of a painful surprise to him as it was to her… and Emmeline.

"Have you told Em?" She asked after a long moment.

"No, not yet," Vance said, shaking his head. "What am I supposed to say? Oh, hey, Em. I love you, but my parents want me to get married to a bird that you despise with all of your heart? Bet you couldn't see that one could ya?"

"Don't add that last part," Mary suggested.

"Right," Vance nodded.

"How long have you known?" She wasn't quite sure what else to add, because that was quite the story to tell.

"Since winter break."

"Wow," Mary said without amazement. "You had two months to tell her, and now she thinks that you're falling out of love with her."

Vance sighed, "I know."

Mary rolled her eyes and stood up. "You have to tell her, Robert. Seriously. Otherwise, you're letting her just slip away."

He held his face in his hands and muttered, "I know, I know." He looked up at Mary and said, "She won't let me though. Every chance I get, she pushes me away. Harder each time."

"Try harder."

"Help me try harder."

She paused. "I beg your pardon?"

Robert stood up, towering over the small witch. Instead of feeling threatened, Mary felt as though a giant needed consoling. It was quite cute, yet terribly sad. "She won't let me get within twenty feet of her, let alone talk to her. And now, I have Talkalot chasing me like a new-found puppy."

Mary closed her eyes. She didn't want to be involved with this. Too much drama for the Hufflepuff. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and said, "I'll talk to her."

Robert immediately wrapped his arms around Mary and squeezed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mary!"

"But you have to put in some effort too, okay?" She insisted, poking him in the chest once he released her. "I mean it. Em is stubborn in her visions, and she really thought you fucked up. So, you'll have to be patient… and determined."

"I am."

Mary believed him too. "What're you going to do about your parents?"

Robert exhaled. "It's not fair they got to marry for love, and I have to reap their regrets. So, they'll just have to deal with that."

Mary nodded, appreciating the integrity. "Fair enough." She reached out her hand, which Vance replied with a solid shake.

Marlene shook her head in disbelief when she entered into the empty practice room. It was where the Frog Choir met for extra rehearsals. It was also where she chose to get some extra vocal lessons in. She preferred privacy during those sessions, but today, it seemed like she was out of luck.

A dark figure sat in front of the piano with his back facing the entrance. The person was playing 'At Last' by Etta James and humming the tune. He had good tone and played smoothly, like he had been practicing the piano for years.

Marlene took a few quiet steps in, not wanting to disturb the musician's beautiful playing. However, he must've noticed her presence and asked a question, "You know this song?"

Marlene's breath hitched when she found that the voice belonged to Sirius Black. She didn't know he could play the piano. He looked behind his shoulder, still brushing the keys lightly, and gave her a smirk. "Wanna join me?" He patted the bench.

Sirius reeked of skepticism, or maybe that was his natural odor. Marlene bit the inside of her cheek as she sat beside him. She chose silence as he continued to play the classic. Was this part of his trick to get her to fall for him? Using music?

Marlene hated to admit that it could work.

"Sing for me, McKinnon," Sirius offered. He played louder now, looking to her brightly.

"You'd be ever so blessed to get a private show from me," she said simply.

He shrugged. "Anyone would be. Maybe just a hum then."

She watched his fingers glide over the keys. She waited for the chorus and at this point, Marlene couldn't help herself. She started to sing, more quietly than she usually did. A pool of nervousness churned in her stomach, because she had never sang for just one person before. Only her vocal teacher. This was intimate, but peaceful. Singing was always a performance to her, now it was nothing but natural.

Once the chorus was over, Sirius played a quiet ending. He watched her lips hum the end. He smiled, "You have the most beautiful lips, McKinnon."

Marlene snorted. "Oh, please. They're two thin lines."

"Long and beautiful lines," he agreed. "Just like the rest of you."

Marlene hated it, but she felt the pool rise to her throat and face. She must be getting red. "Good try, Black," she stated.

Sirius smirked as he leaned his hands back against the edge of the bench. "I do what I can," he explained. "But it's easy with you around. Always has been."

Marlene was about to question what that meant, but when she turned around to face him, he was simply centimeters away. He was so close to her and for just a moment, she considered letting him get closer.

But, Marlene's pride stepped in. Perhaps it was a McKinnon trait to never let anyone get the better of her.

Marlene stood up and pushed the bench back. "Not likely, Black," she said, stepping away.

"You can't run away from me forever, McKinnon," he called after her. "We live in the same ruddy tower."

Marlene turned her back on him, fuming that she let him so close. "Oh, watch me," she insisted as she exited the room.

Dorcas gulped as she stared at the door into Max McKinnon's office. It was nine-thirty-two, and she had just been standing there for precisely two minutes. This was going to be one of the most awkward moments in her entire life, and she didn't know if she could handle this in her life right now.

Why would Dumbledore do something like this to her? It just wasn't fair. There just had to be a reason.

"You can come in," Max McKinnon called from inside the room.

Dorcas closed her eyes, trying to hold herself back from letting out a litany of curses. She put her shaky hand to the door and pushed.

It had been now two months since she had last seen the eldest McKinnon. He was painfully attractive and only twenty-three years old, only six years older than her age (she was legal). That was why it was okay back on New Year's, or so they told themselves. He was currently fixing them both a cup of tea.

Dorcas clenched her teeth and said, "Professor," with a nod. That felt terribly awkward.

Max scoffed. He looked back at her and said, "Don't call me that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to call you Max?"

Max brought the cups of tea to a small round table in the center of the room. He said, "Yes, that would be best." He motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite of him.

Dorcas hesitated before doing so. Like the perfect gentleman she had met on December 31st, he waited for her to sit first. He sat and blew on his tea before asking, "Do you know why Dumbledore chose me as your occulmency tutor?"

"To prove that he has a sense of humor," she offered dryly.

Max smiled, a stupidly kind smile. "He chose me because he knew that we had… met before."

Dorcas wanted to slam her into the table repeatedly. She let out a groan and murmured, "Smashing."

"I know it may seem like an intentional low blow, but the fact that you and I have met before is important to this."

"Why?"

Dorcas sipped on his tea before saying, "You don't want me in your mind, am I right, Dorcas?"

"No one wants anyone in their mind."

"But, I am a special case, am I not?"

Dorcas thought about this for a moment. He was right, but why did it matter? "So what? I snogged you, and I don't want you in my thoughts. I think that's reasonable."

"Precisely," he said in a cheerful tone, as if she made a specific discovery. "You don't want me to know the specific details of your life. It'll make you work harder at occulmency. You'll try harder to keep me out of your head."

Dorcas looked down at her tea and watched the steam rise. Without looking back up at him, she asked, "Are you already in there?"

Max paused. "Yes."

Dorcas looked up and said, "You don't want to be in there. It's not pretty."

"Then, get me out, Meadowes. Because I am a walk in the park in comparison to Lord Voldemort. He will make you relive your worst memories, and I have a feeling that you have quite the selection for him to choose from."

Dorcas let out loud exhale, but said nothing. What was there to say?

Max sighed, "Do you want me to know about your mother? About the terrible things she did? Or, about how your father did the bare minimum to protect you from her torture? Or, about how your brothers and sisters isolated you during your ten years living at home. Or, about Remus Lupin-"

"Stop," Dorcas said shortly with a dark look in her eye. She was now glaring at him. She didn't care if he was Marlene's older brother, a professor, or a talented kisser. She wanted to punch him now. "I see your point, Max. Now, can you start giving me some tactics before I get expelled for cursing you."

Dorcas expected Max to deduct points or provide detention. But, instead he just smiled. "Now, we're talking."

A/N - I am so sorry for the delayed update. I was going through a serious writer's block and couldn't write at all. Some things have shifted in my life that I needed to take care of. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to be on more of a routine with updates!

Thank you to everyone who reviews, follows, and favorite. If you enjoy this story, please do so. It means the world to me

XOXO

Rose