The Life and Times

by Jewels5

She was dramatic. He was dynamic. She was precise. He was impulsive. He was James, and she was Lily, and one day they shared a kiss, but before that they shared many arguments, for he was cocky, and she was sweet, and matters of the heart require time.

23. To End a Year

A/N: Nostalgia for anyone who read ITISNS: I accidentally opened the wrong file on my computer and clicked on the document titled "23," but instead of opening up this, I opened chapter 23 of ITISNS, entitled "The Lord and the Outlaw." Aw, James thinking Lily is dead and getting tortured in the Forbidden Forest—good times.

Disclaimer: Copyright Jo-Ro.

Before: At the beginning of the year, Nicolai Mulciber tests Snape's loyalties to Slytherin by having him disarm Lily, but James intervenes and punches Mulciber. Also, Adam McKinnon and Carlotta Meloni tried to kill themselves. But not really. Adam tells Marlene he loves her; she rejects him and totally fails "Unrequited Love Level One." Donna and Lily haven't been friends since Donna belittled Lily's dad's death. Meanwhile, Donna has been hooking up with Ravenclaw Charlie Plex, who has a girlfriend named Cassidy, but when Charlie reveals that he had actual legitimate feelings for Donna, she decides to do the right thing and cut him loose. He's pissed. Lily's ex-boyfriend Luke is devastated when his death-eater brother Logan is killed by aurors, so Luke decides to quit school without taking his N.E.W.T.s. James kicks Sirius out of the Marauders and the dormitory because of his Whomping Willow prank on Snape. Lily and James have a major fight; James says Lily used him to help her with Luke because she knew he liked her, and that she only used to reject him to prove a point to Snape. Lily says she rejected him because he was a jerk. Lily figures that as far as her relationship with James goes, there's nothing left to say.

Dedicated to BigBangMeteor8612, who is responsible for the fast update, because I'm just a sucker like that. Happy belated Birthday, BBM!

Chapter 23- "To End a Year"

Or

"One Love"

In the Gryffindor boys' dormitory for their year, there lived five wizards. They were James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Adam McKinnon.

From day one, James Potter and Sirius Black were best mates.

Fate works in funny ways sometimes. If, on his first day of school, Sirius Black had not sat down in Compartment B on the first car of the Hogwarts Express... if, instead, he had taken a few extra steps into Compartment C or, or if he had climbed onto a different car, he might not have met James Potter that morning. Later, he might have asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin instead (because, after all, that was where his whole family had been sorted), and James Potter and Sirius Black might never have been best mates.

Or maybe they would.

Because fate works in funny ways sometimes.

But the truth of it is, Sirius Black did meet James Potter in Compartment B, and he was sorted to Gryffindor, and they did become best mates. And that was the beginning of the Marauders. The very beginning.

It is not, however, the whole story.

Once again: in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory for their year, there lived five wizards, and by their second April at Hogwarts, James Potter and Sirius Black had been best mates for well over a year. Peter Pettigrew floated on the perimeters of several social circles, belonging to none. Adam McKinnon was a nice enough bloke—James and Sirius decided—but he was rather rule-abiding, and he had friends outside of the dorm. Remus Lupin's story was more or less the same, except that he was far less "normal" than Adam... there was definitely something off about Remus.

He was quiet; he kept to himself. Where did he disappear to every month? Why did he always look so ill, and where did his creepy scratches come from?

There was something off about Remus Lupin, but until April of their second year, James and Sirius did not know what.

"He's a cool enough bloke," whispered Sirius to James one evening in Astronomy, while Professor Dawton chattered on about the properties of some star cluster or other. "But he's a bit odd, don't you think? I tried to invite him into the Gobstones game last week, but he looked at me as though I'd tried to hex him instead."

"He is weird," James agreed. "But he's not so bad—he covered for us in Potions last week, when we exploded Snivelly's cauldron."

They both snickered at the recollection.

"Hey, Pettigrew," muttered Sirius, elbowing the tiny wizard at the telescope beside his. "What d'you reckon is Lupin's story? He's missing another Astronomy class."

Peter shrugged. "He does seem to miss a lot, doesn't he? McGonagall says he goes home to visit his mum."

Sirius snorted. "He looks so ill when he gets back, it's more like he's gone to visit my mum."

"Well there you are," chuckled James. "We've found our answer."

Before Sirius could respond, Professor Dawton interrupted the conversation. "Potter, Black, Pettigrew—quiet there," he warned with an unconvincing show of sternness. Professor Dawton really was too nice for his own good. He returned to the lecture, pointing out various items of interest in the night sky. The three second years nodded obediently, and James noticed Lily Evans rolling her eyes not far away. Her telescope was right beside that prat Snivellus's. Whatever did she see in the slimy git, anyway?

"Stop ogling Evans," Sirius whispered, causing James to scowl.

"I'm not," he insisted, and Sirius grinned.

Peter stifled a yawn. "I hate Astronomy," he grumbled in an undertone. "Why do we have to have class at night?"

"Because that's when the stars are out, genius," retorted Sirius. "'Sides, it's not so late. James and I were out much later last night... we found the Kitchens."

Peter's eyes grew large and round like saucers. "The Kitchens?" he whispered, almost reverently. "You used that cloak again, didn't you?"

James and Sirius exchanged pleased looks, and the former nodded. "Maybe we'll take you out with it sometime, yeah?"

"That'd be brill," Peter breathed.

"Boys," Professor Dawton spoke up again. "Really, now. If I have to ask for your silence again, you won't be allowed to leave early with the rest of the class." Dawton always dismissed the class early on full moons, because, he said, the brightness of the moon made star observation difficult.

"Yes, Professor," chorused the three boys. "But you'll still let us have Marshmallow Moons, won't you?" added Sirius, beaming. Dawton—an enthusiast for celestial events—handed out sweets to his students on full and new moons. This was the former.

"Please, just pay attention," said the professor, and he again resumed his lecture. The three Gryffindors were quiet for a short while, and then Peter spoke once more.

"Too bad Dawton only hands out Marshmallow Moons. I'm sick of those."

"Don't complain," murmured James. "If you don't like 'em, give 'em to Lupin. Heloves them, and he never gets any on account of his having to go home."

"Now," Dawton went on, "if you'll please direct your telescopes northward..."

"You know," said Sirius, peering through the lens of his telescope as instructed, "I don't think he does go home. Last month, he disappeared like he always does, and his first day back he had a letter from his mum at breakfast... why would she write to him if she'd just seen him?"

Neither James nor Peter responded, however, for Professor Dawton was looking in their direction and they were compelled to be quiet. Shortly after that, class was dismissed and—with several packages of marshmallow sweets in hand (James and Sirius had, of course, disregarded the instruction of "Take one, please")—the Gryffindor boys returned to their dormitory.

Adam McKinnon went directly to sleep, and Peter went to bed with the same intent. However, he was awakened very shortly by voices. James and Sirius sat near the window, chewing on their Marshmallow Moons and talking—probably plotting—in poorly concealed murmurs.

"Pettigrew," greeted Sirius, spotting Peter as he looked through the curtains of his four-poster for the source of the disturbance. "Come on, then. Have a Marshmallow Moon. We've got plenty."

Drowsy, but determined not to refuse an invitation from James Potter and Sirius Black, Peter stumbled across to the window seat. He unwrapped one of the sweets in the small pile between James and Sirius and then sat down on the floor. James picked up a few himself and tossed them onto the nearby desk. "For Lupin," he explained. "He always looks so cheerful when you give him some. It's like giving candy to a baby."

Sirius snickered. "If he wants them, he should come to class once in a while."

James merely shrugged. He leaned his head against the wall and stared idly out the window at the sky. "Funny, isn't it?" he mused vaguely, "Lupin always seems to miss the lessons where Dawton gives out sweets..."

There was a long moment of silence, and then—

"Oh, my Merlin," said Sirius and James at the exact same time. Peter looked at them bewilderedly.

"What?"

But they were ignoring him.

"Oh, my Merlin!"

"Bloody hell!"

"You don't think...?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"But Dumbledore wouldn't..."

"Maybe Dumbledore doesn't know..."

"Of course Dumbledore knows! Dumbledore knows everything!"

"But how could...?"

"The teachers must be...?"

"But where does he...?"

"I don't know—but I bet we could..."

"Find out. If we use the..."

"Cloak, exactly."

"Oh my Merlin."

"Oh my Merlin."

Peter stared. "What are you two talking about?"

But again, no one answered him—at least not at once. Eventually, James and Sirius recovered from their own self-congratulations long enough to clue in their third roommate. In the mean time, Sirius's face broke into a huge grin, mirrored on James's face immediately.

"This is so cool."

(Present)

And so time passed, as it is usually wont to do. In a blur of lethargy and nothingness, the days slipped by. Lily had never guessed that one person's mood could influence the entire school, and yet so it was that James Potter's lassitude towards everything and everyone suddenly turned pandemic. Never had a May passed with so little excitement—even the thought of upcoming exams had little effect on the students at large. As busy as they all were, no one really seemed to be doing anything much at all.

Sirius stopped sleeping in the Common Room, but he did not return to his dormitory. Rather, he removed himself to another location, which he would not disclose to Lily, though he did reply to her many inquiries that he was not subjected to a cold, stone floor—unless he wanted it. Lily had not the slightest idea what he meant by that, but Sirius remained resolutely enigmatic.

Luke Harper was gone of course, and a tidbit in the paper about Logan said that Luke would be spending time abroad with his mother and one of his other brothers. However, only days later, a new article appeared concerning the Harpers. They had returned to London with plans to demand an investigation on the aurors involved in the Hogsmeade attack. Lathe, apparently, had been correct about that, too.

The Quidditch Final came up in the last weekend of May—Gryffindor verses Slytherin. Sirius was not allowed to play, of course, and Lily felt rather sorry for the back-up Chaser: he never stood a chance. Perhaps it was their Captain's infectious bad mood, or perhaps their own personal dramas that bothered them, but the Gryffindor team played with what appeared to be zero motivation to win. Everyone on the team, it seemed, had a reason to be unhappy, and that, combined with a replacement Chaser whose instruction was at best apathetic, resulted in Gryffindor's most miserable loss to Slytherin in recent history. It was a dark day in Gryffindor Common Room. James's mood worsened, and Gryffindors took to referring to Quidditch simply as "The Q-Word."

Exams seemed a distant, uncertain concept, and yet, very suddenly, the first week of June drew to a close, and they were only days away. The O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students had become slaves to their books, and Lily did her very best to work equally hard for her own tests, but her attention drifted. She couldn't focus. The weather was getting warm, and she found herself thinking of her own O.W.L.s—what had transpired by the lake one June day almost exactly one year prior—and various other unhappy thoughts, often involving Luke Harper, Logan Harper, or James Potter.

It was all very confusing, and, strangely enough, the only one of her friends who steered clear of the relative melodrama that was her life just then was Severus Snape. So it was that she did most of her studying for the upcoming Potions final with the Slytherin, earning the witch even more glares from James.

"You're not paying attention," Snape accused indifferently, as Lily's gaze once again wandered out the library window. It was Friday evening, and the final was on Monday.

"No," agreed Lily. "Everything is rotten. Besides..." Closing her Advanced Potion Making, Level 6 book, "I know all of it." This—while not strictly speaking true—approximated the truth, and she really did not feel like studying. She felt like talking, and it was her great misfortune that every topic worth discussing was strictly unmentionable with Snape.

When had that happened?

"Do you want to try Defense, then?" offered the Slytherin, a little bored.

Lily shook her head. "I don't want to study. I don't want to think."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. I just want to lie down and disappear."

Severus sighed. "I don't know how I'm supposed to talk to you when you're like this, Lily." He sounded weary... and he never sounded weary with Lily. She looked at him. "Can we just finish the Potions?"

The redhead shrugged. "Fine. Potions." She opened her book, but it was to a random page, and she didn't read the words.

"You're not paying attention," said Snape again.

"No," agreed Lily.

(Cassidy, Part One)

Cassidy Gamp had a lot of shiny, curly hair, roughly the color of macaroni and cheese. She was petite, gentle, and feminine, with large doe eyes, a delicate chin, and a button nose. She was exactly the sort of girl that boys her age fancied: sweet tempered, virginal, needy, intellectually average, and quite capable of making a member of the opposite sex feel thoroughly masculine. She was, in no uncertain terms, Donna Shacklebolt's polar opposite.

This realization was by no means new to Donna, who could not help but notice from across the Great Hall as Cassidy Gamp strived and failed to gain her boyfriend's attention. Charlie Plex was far too busy sulking into his supper to pay attention to Cassidy's desperate chatter.

In one sense, Cassidy's existence was loathsome to Donna. She was pretty, and while not precisely stupid, not exactly bright either. What's more, she wasn't the sort of girl to be kept up at night thinking about death eaters. She wasn't the type of girl to have nightmares (real nightmares) or genuine worries or complex concerns. She was uncomplicated. She would finish Hogwarts with good grades and might or might not pursue a career of some kind, but give it up in a few years when she found a wizard willing to get married. Uncomplicated.

In another sense, Donna knew that she had absolutely no right to dislike Cassidy, for as foolish and naïve as the girl had been, she had also been treated absolutely abominably—by Charlie and by Donna herself, and that did not make Cassidy contemptible. That made her sympathetic.

As she sat at Gryffindor table, eating her supper alone, Donna wondered what exactly Cassidy Gamp would do if she ever found out about Charlie. She would probably make quite a fuss; she would probably forget her pride and call attention to herself; she would probably hex Charlie, or try to anyway, and she would almost certainly turn every female in the school against Donna. That was how Donna knew that Charlie had not told his girlfriend; if he ever did, she would know very soon.

Charlie looked away from his supper long enough to glance in Donna's direction, and he caught her staring. She looked away quickly, but not before she saw Charlie's eyes flash angrily. After that, she avoided Ravenclaw table altogether.

(Fifth Year, Part One)

"I failed," stated Donna. "I failed. I know I did. I got every question wrong. I failed. They're going to have to make up a new letter for how badly I just did."

Mary, Marlene, and Lily all rolled their eyes. "You did not fail," Lily assured her, as the girls walked through the crowded Entrance Hall. "You always say that, and you have yet to actually fail anything."

"This time I mean it, though!" Donna protested. "I just failed my Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.!"

"You did not," insisted Marlene. "And stop fishing for compliments. You already know you're brilliant in lessons, if a little daft in actual life. Are we going outside?"

"It's too hot to stay indoors," said Lily. "And I couldn't possibly study for Transfiguration right now."

"I agree," said Mary, who was cheerful now that the exam was finally finished. "Let's go outside. We can sit by the lake."

And so, destiny—in the tones of a heat-stricken Mary Macdonald—beckoned the girls outside with most of the other fifth years. Sitting on the bank of the black lake, Lily kicked off her shoes, peeled off her socks, and dangled her feet in the water; Mary and Marlene followed, though Donna protested on the grounds that "Agrippa only knows what's in that water."

"Liam Lyle asked me out last week," Mary told them all, as they basked in the sun. "To the Hogsmeade weekend coming up," she clarified. "I might say 'yes,' but I haven't decided."

"Don't toy with Liam Lyle," reprimanded Lily almost automatically, glancing across the lawns to a solitary figure, reading under a tree. "He's a nice bloke."

"I don't toy with blokes..."

Marlene snorted. "Mary, dear, you're my best friend, but I have two words for you: Devang Patel."

"Alright, I toyed with Devang a little," Mary allowed. "But only because he was so convinced that I was such a sure thing."

"Aren't you?" said Donna dryly, earning her an elbow from the tiny brunette.

"No."

"Speaking of blokes who are mad about certain witches..." said Marlene, following Lily's glances.

"Who?" asked Donna, before noticing to what the blonde referred. "Oh. Snape."

Lily started at the sound of his name. "Sod off," she retorted with dignity. "He's not mad about me; actually, we've had a row."

"Of course you have," said Mary. "That's why you're here with your lovely friends, rather than over there dying of boredom with a Transfiguration book."

"Right," muttered Marlene a bit darkly; "I'm sure that's just a simple Transfiguration book."

"Quiet," Lily ordered. "He's still my friend."

"Merlin knows why," added Donna.

Lily sent them all warning looks, and they knew better than to continue the discussion. "Well," said Mary, her eyes wandering towards another tree, where different wizards amused themselves. "What about James Potter? He fancies you, Lily."

"I hope that's a joke," replied the prefect, sending a look towards the Marauders. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew sat in the shade of large tree; Sirius and Peter seemed to be laughing about something, Remus was reading, and James played with a Snitch he had undoubtedly filched from the school.

"He is cute," chanted Mary, and it was a familiar conversation. Mary always reminded Lily of James's undeniable (though Lily adamantly denied) good-looks. Donna was next.

"And he's a damn good Quidditch captain," Donna predictably contributed. Marlene would follow.

"And he fancies you like mad," continued Marlene. "How many times has he asked you out this week?"

"Twice," Lily replied. "It's been a nice, slow week."

Marlene and Mary laughed appreciatively. "Shelley Mumps would kill to be in your shoes," the latter pointed out.

"If giving her my shoes would get rid of Potter, I would gladly go barefoot," said Lily. "Unfortunately, not even tripping hexes and constant rejections have worked so far, so my faith in shoe-less-ness is rather weak."

"Oh, how she suffers," said Donna sarcastically.

"Poor Potter," mused Marlene. "He hasn't a chance, has he? Not really Lily's type."

"Not at all," agreed Lily. "I mean, look at him, showing off with that Snitch..."

"Well, we can't get Jay Gatsby or Paul Newman," said Mary, "So Hogwarts boys will have to do."

"There are Hogwarts boys and there are Hogwarts boys," Lily pointed out. "And is it so terribly wrong to want a bloke who is romantic and soulful and maybe just a bit poetic?"

"Oh no," murmured Donna, and her eyes were directed across the lawn.

"What?" asked Lily.

"Nothing." Donna shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing at all. What were you saying? Soulful?"

But Lily would have none of it. She turned and saw the scene unraveling a short distance away. James Potter and Sirius Black stood with their wands drawn, and their target was, of course, Severus Snape.

The heat and anger rose in Lily's face; almost automatically, she got up, shoving her sockless feet into her school flats and starting towards the group.

"Here we go..." muttered Marlene.

"Leave him ALONE!"

James Potter's hand that wasn't occupied with holding his wand—in the process of producing pink, bubbles in Snape's mouth—moved instantly to his hair, ruffling it unnecessarily. "All right, Evans?"

"Leave him alone," Lily seethed. "What's he done to you?"

"Well... it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean..."

Others laughed; Lily's blood boiled. Conceited arse...

"You think you're funny," she said coldly. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

James seemed utterly unperturbed by her insults; without the slightest indication that he recognized the fury, the pure dislike, in her tone and her eyes, the wizard quipped, without missing a beat: "I will if you'll go out with me, Evans."

Lily might have been surprised, but it seemed James's arrogance knew no bounds.

"Go on..." he continued, " go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

Disgusted: "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."

And then, maybe for half a second, James finally seemed to register the fact that Lily Evans, at that moment, loathed his existence, as much as he loathed Snape's.

"Bad luck, Prongs," said the nearby Sirius, obviously not as bothered as James by the rejection. Anyway, he had bigger problems: "Oy!"

Too late was Sirius's warning, however; a flash of light, and then James was bleeding—a large, deep gash had appeared on the side of his face. An instant later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air. Several people cheered.

Lily summoned all her energy. It wasn't funny. "Let him down!"

The emotion—real, honest emotion—that had briefly flickered across James's face was gone... long forgotten. He smirked and cocked his head. "Certainly."

Snape crashed to the ground, but before he could properly recover, Sirius directed a spell in the Slytherin's direction, and he keeled over once again, rigid.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted, drawing her own wand. Her two house-mates looked at her uncertainly; apparently, the prospect of dueling an armed Lily Evans was far less appealing than assaulting Snape.

"Ah, Evans," James almost pleaded, "don't make me hex you."

He would too, she thought.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

James sighed. He released Snape from the Locomotor Mortis that Sirius had cast. "There you go," James said, annoyed; Snape stumbled to his feet. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus..."

And then it happened. Snape's black eyes flashed, flickering from James to Lily to the surrounding students. There was still soap on the front of his robes, and his typically pallid face flushed red. And then it happened.

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

An eternal few seconds passed; out of the corner of her eye, Lily noticed Marlene, Mary, and Donna approaching the scene. The spectators had gone quiet. James seemed almost more confused than anything else. Remus actually looked up from his book. The world waited for Lily's response, but she wasn't quite ready to give it.

Mudbloods like her.

"Fine," she managed to say, quite coolly; Snape had gone pale again; "I won't bother in the future."

Mudbloods like her.

"And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

James had regained his temper. "Apologize to Evans!"

Arrogant, hateful, conceited git...

Lily rounded on him. "I don't want you to make him apologize! You're as bad as he is...!"

"What? I'd NEVER call you a..." He hesitated awkwardly: "You-know-what!"

But Lily was so furious, her hands were practically shaking as she clenched them into fists and snapped: "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it! You make me SICK!"

She turned, moving blindly away as fast as she could.

Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood…

"Evans! Hey, EVANS!"

But Potter was light-years away; she barely heard him, the blood pounding in her ears, the hurt and anger pulsing through her veins, that word echoing in her brain... James Potter might not have existed at all...

Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood...

"Lily."

She had reached the castle doors, and someone grabbed her arm. Marlene.

"Lily," repeated the blonde, softer. Donna and Mary stood at a distance.

But Lily couldn't stay. "Not here," she murmured. "The dorm..."

Marlene nodded. "Lily, I'm so, so sorry..."

She wanted to cry. No, she wanted to throw something. She wanted to hit someone as absolutely hard as she could. She wanted to...

"It's fine."

She turned and walked through the castle doors... her feet moved beneath her, carrying her through corridors and up staircases, and only one thought transmitted.

Mudblood.

(Present)

There had been a surprising number of significant moments in that library, Severus Snape considered, as he waited for Lily at the usual table, way in the back corner. The most recent, least pleasant of which had to be that which occurred the day before...

But he couldn't have known that Lily was in the library, and she might not have heard too much of his conversation...

Still, from the look in her eye as she had stalked away, Severus gathered that she had heard enough. He wasn't altogether sure that she would even show up for their previously scheduled study meet.

Lily did show up though, looking flustered. "I can't stay," she informed him. "Madam Pomfrey asked for older students to volunteer in the Hospital Wing, on account of all the stress related problems with exams, and I promised I'd help out for a few hours..."

"Lily," interrupted Sev, frustrated. "You're angry, aren't you?"

"No," Lily insisted. "I'm just running late."

"I know that you heard Mulciber and me yesterday," the Slytherin continued, rising from his chair. "There's no point in denying it."

"I'm not denying it," she retorted. "I'm avoiding it, because frankly, I don't know how I feel about it yet—except really, really ticked off, and if I discuss it now, I'll probably end up shouting at someone. But that's not why I have to leave now... I have to leave now because I promised Madam Pomfrey that I'd be in the Infirmary thirty seconds ago."

"Lily," pleaded Severus, as she turned to leave once again. Lily paused, her shoulders dropping as though she were sighing heavily.

"Yes?" she asked, turning slowly back to him.

Her expression was weary, her pink lips pulled into a frown and her eyes fixed on Severus like she was waiting for something. She was waiting, and he knew it. She was waiting for him to say something that would earn him absolution, that would alleviate her doubts and fix this.

"I didn't say that word," he muttered. "Mulciber did, but I didn't..."

Lily stared at him, almost disbelievingly, for a moment longer. Then, shaking her head, she smiled rather mirthlessly. She was disappointed. "You just don't understand, do you, Sev?"

He had failed, Severus realized, as Lily attempted to leave the library once more. He had completely frustrated all her hopes that he would be able to earn pardon, and now—because she was Lily—forgiveness would have to be given without justification. Severus stepped in front of her.

"Don't leave angry," he requested.

"I'm not..." But Lily broke off; she ran one hand through her thick hair, eyes cast heavenward, as she worked through something internally. "I'm not angry, Sev," she finished at last. "I can—I can meet up with you on Wednesday, okay? Here, after the Defense final. We'll study for... Charms, or whatever. Okay?" Sev nodded. "Now I really have to go."

She moved swiftly past him out of the library. Severus sat down at his table again, dissatisfied but resigned to the fact that that was all he was going to get for now.

(Run)

The first time he had transformed, James had hated it. Of course, he'd read that the first time a wizard became Animagus was always the most painful, but he hadn't expected it to be so excruciating. He'd felt as though his muscles were ripping and splitting apart, that his bones were shattering and his heart bursting open. And, if he thought about it, that wasn't too far from the truth.

But after the initial transfiguration, the muscles and bones and organs remembered how to reshape themselves, and James was able to pay attention to the details—like how the beating of his heart changed, and how different the wind felt against his skins, and how surprisingly natural it felt coordinating four legs rather than two. The best part of being Prongs was the galloping, though. James enjoyed running in his human form, and he loved flying, but neither was quite like galloping.

Precisely what he loved about flying (the open, emptiness of the skies) thrilled him in its absence when he moved at inhuman speeds through the forest. It was a game of reflexes, dodging trees and clearing rocks. The speed, the instinct, the concentration, the wind filling his ears—it was rather like flying sometimes, but it was also very different. For one thing, it wore him out much more quickly.

As he had learned very early on, Prongs could handle rather more exertion than plain old James could, and usually he was careful not to wear out the former, as that would typically render the latter inert. Anyway, Padfoot and Wormtail wouldn't be able to keep up. Tonight was different, though.

James landed a jump with a crash, his hooves skidding against the rough dirt path so deep in the forest that he reckoned even Hagrid's knowledge of the area was hazy at best. It was dark—pitch black, as the waxing moon was still slight, and the overhang of trees counteracted starlight.

As he slid, James closed his eyes and concentrated. An invisible force overtook him, pulling his body in different directions, and—as predicted and intended—the adrenaline was phenomenal. The rush of blood to the head... the tingling of his fingertips... the weightlessness of his entire being that was so great it overcame even the pain he ought to have felt, as his now human body tumbled onto the dirt, striking his neck against a rock and one of his legs against a log, before it ended up, flat on its back in ferns and dust.

James could have gone to sleep right there. He barely had the energy to pull his riding-up t-shirt down over his abdomen. He could hardly tilt his head to one side. A beetle crawled along the ground beside his face, and James smirked weakly at it.

"It must be very simple to be you," he murmured, almost enviously. "Is one bug's life any more fucked up than another's?" The beetle, predictably, kept quiet. "I didn't think so."

He would be so, so sore in the morning, and he was already weak enough that there was a very real possibility he would collapse before he made it back to the castle, and yet, James mustered strength from an unknown source and pulled himself upward. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet for a moment and had to push his sweaty hair from his eyes, but the exhaustion... it wasn't a bad thing. Agrippa's sake, it was the reason he was out there at all tonight.

Becoming an Animagus had taught James several things; it had made him far more aware of his own movements, of how it felt to have blood pulse through his veins, or to see things through his own, admittedly imperfect eyes. It had also taught him two more very important things as well. One: that no matter how exhausted he was, he would always be a little stronger than he thought. No matter how draining a full moon excursion was, if he really tried, he would be able to summon the strength to rise the next morning and act as though all was normal.

The second thing was that this fatigue worked in his favor. If you were tired enough, exhaustion became intoxicating. It slowed the brain, it dulled the senses, it blurred the world. And even if every transformation were as agonizing as the first had been (they weren't), that intoxication would have made it all worth it. Besides the fact that it would almost guarantee that he would sleep that night (and lately, that was incentive enough), an empty mind, thought James as he forced his feet back along the path, was a rare gift, and one that never lasted long enough.

(Astronomy Tower)

The library and the Common Room were out of the question due to the risk of encounter that they posed, and Mary was in the dormitory, which made studying there impossible. As a result, Marlene felt stranded and homeless, wandering the corridors with a heavy book bag in search of solitude and a place to study.

Perhaps the Astronomy Tower was not the obvious choice on account of its reputation as a "social" spot, but Marlene was in luck that evening. Apparently the usual number of amorous couples who frequented that spot had decided to take to their books with exams so imminent, and the tower was empty.

Marlene sat down on the floor, dropping her book bag beside her and leaning her back against the wall. The night sky constituted her ceiling, and maybe the spot was uncomfortable—with the stone floor and humid summer air—but at least she was alone.

She opened her Potions book to one of the procedures Slughorn had promised would be included on the final (the Calming Draught) and began to read. Within ten seconds, Marlene was thinking of Adam. They'd worked on the Calming Draught essay together.

"Damn it," swore Marlene loudly and to no one in particular.

Of course, scowling at the stars, she realized that this was almost certainly the wrong place to go to avoid thinking of Adam. It was not without a twinge of pain that she thought of what had quite nearly happened here nine months prior.

Marlene pushed her books onto the floor and got to her feet. She strolled to the ledge and looked out across the grounds—Hagrid's hut in the distance, the Forbidden Forest, the towers and rooftops of the castle... She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what he—what Adam—had seen that night when he had almost fallen. She used the word "fallen," because it didn't really count as jumping, did it?

She'd always been good with heights; that was probably why she liked flying so much, and now, leaning over the wall and staring down, while others might have been dizzy, Marlene relished the feeling of a cool breeze on her face and the vague weightlessness of standing so far above the ground. Without knowing why (and fully realizing that it was probably rather stupid), Marlene swung one leg up onto the stone ledge and pulled herself up.

There she stood, arms outstretched mostly for balance, at the mercy of gravity, as the wind whipped gently at her robes and uniform. If she were a little saner, she thought, she would have been quite a bit more frightened, and yet...

"Marlene?"

Startled, Marlene opened her eyes and turned her head, loosing her balance just a bit and swaying.

"Marlene!"

She had barely registered that it was Adam McKinnon calling her before he had grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Adam demanded.

"I was just..." Marlene broke off, for she had no real explanation... "It was nothing," she dismissed. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh, y'know... reliving happy Astronomy Tower memories."

"Don't be sarcastic about that."

"Says the girl who was prepping for a swan dive."

"I was not prepping for a swan dive. I was—er—taking in the view."

Then, both Adam and Marlene realized that he was still sort of holding her in his arms, and they sprung apart suddenly and awkwardly.

Adam cleared his throat. "Is—is there a reason you felt the need to climb up there?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck and not quite looking her in the eye.

"I don't know," replied Marlene; she, too, looked away with determination. "I j-just... was. I thought I'd see how it felt."

He raised his eyebrows. "And how did it feel?"

After some reflection: "Liberating."

Adam snorted. "Right."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Marlene continued, somewhat accusatorily. "Do you come up here a lot? I don't think that's healthy. After all, you did nearly... well, you know, and..."

"I come up here to think, that's all," interrupted Adam. He noticed her books. "Are you doing homework?"

"Trying to study. Unsuccessfully."

"And that's what spurred the suicide attempt?"

"It wasn't a suicide attempt!"

"Yes, if I'd been a minute later, it would have been a suicide success."

"I have excellent balance, actually."

"You almost fell!"

"Only because you startled me!"

They were both quiet for several seconds; finally, Adam shook his head and spoke. "Fine. I'll—let you get back to your studying. Just... don't climb anymore ledges, please?"

He started to leave.

"Wait. Adam." The wizard paused and looked at her, and Marlene knew that she had no right to say it, but, Merlin, she needed to. "I miss you."

(Three and a Half Weeks Earlier)

The sun was low in the sky, coloring the Quidditch pitch in orange and pink light. Still, there was a curious blaze in Adam's blue-green eyes that could not be explained by the sunset.

And then he said it.

"Marlene, I love you."

Compulsively: "Adam, wait..."

"No, I can't," he rushed on. "You don't understand—I've been waiting forever. I can't wait anymore. I love you. I mean I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since fourth year, and... and I know we're mates, but, Marlene, it's... impossible for me to keep acting like that's all I want. I can't do that anymore... I want to be with you."

Several seconds or several minutes may have passed. Marlene's voice had stopped functioning, because several times she tried to bring herself to speak and found the words choked in her throat. Meanwhile, her brain was working so hard, it might as well have not been working at all, for all of her many thoughts and emotions and impulses blurred together in the panic.

She felt the heat rise in her face. She was vaguely aware of being afraid. She was more than vaguely aware of the frenzied manner in which her heart was beating. She had no idea of how she ought to (or how she wanted to) reply.

"Please say something, Marlene."

But she couldn't, because if she couldn't say she loved him too, she would rather not say anything at all. And she couldn't say she loved him, too. She just couldn't.

Oh, God, she had to say something...

"I—I'm sorry, I just..." More hesitation, then, "I don't know what to say, Adam. I didn't—I didn't know."

But that, she realized suddenly and horribly, was a lie. Of course she had known. Of course she had known he loved her! She had denied it and suppressed it and made up neat little excuses for Mary and for herself, but she had known. A girl—she thought—always knows.

"Adam," she began, still shaken by her unhappy epiphany. "I can't. Listen, y-y-y-you're one of my best friends..."

He didn't look surprised by that line (and it was a line); he didn't look hurt, either, or crestfallen; but something indefinable changed in his expression, and Marlene knew that he understood exactly what she was saying.

"And that's all," Adam interjected, with no question in his tone. "Just friends."

Breathless, and with a curious and awful aching in her chest: "Isn't that enough?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, isn't—isn't friendship enough?"

"I don't know," said Adam. "But I—I don't think I can do this anymore. I can't be like we've been... it's too painful for me, Marlene."

"What do you mean you can't 'do this' anymore?" she asked, alarmed. "You can't—can't be my friend?"

"Mar, I just told you I loved you. Don't you think that changes anything?"

Marlene's heart pounded in her chest. She knew what was happening; she was about to lose Adam... No, she had already lost him. He was right; it changed everything. He had changed everything.

"Listen," said Adam, after she was silent for a while, "let's juts forget about this. Let's just forget about the whole thing. If we agree it never happened, it never happened, right? And everything..."

"We can't," Marlene interrupted suddenly. She got unsteadily to her feet, and Adam imitated the gesture. "We can't go back to normal! I can't forget about this! It already happened—it's already out there!" Tears grew in her eyes and her head throbbed in pain; she rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers, willing her head to be calmed. "How can we possibly be friends now?"

Adam just looked at her, stunned.

"Why did you have to do this?" she said, and then she wished she hadn't. Oh, God, please let her take it back. Please let her never have to see Adam wear that expression ever again. Please, please, please, please...

"I—I'm sorry," he said quietly.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...

There were a million things Marlene wanted to say—anything to fix this, anything to take it all back. But, God, she didn't know what to say, and she couldn't see him like this; she couldn't bear to see that look on his face another minute.

"I h-have to go," she stammered. Tears slipped from her eyes as she turned and hurried away, pulling her robes close around her middle. Adam didn't stop her.

Adam loves me, she thought, and it occurred to her, really hit home, for the first time that she needed him.

(Present)

"I miss you."

Adam just stared. "What?"

"You were my best friend. You are my best friend... with Mary," she amended, rolling her eyes, "But... we don't talk now? If that's my fault, I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault," sighed Adam. "It's mine."

"No, don't say that. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"I shouldn't have said what I said."

Marlene took a minute to analyze that. What he said? He hadn't said anything unkind... so that meant... was he taking it back? Did he not love her after all? But why not? Marlene reprimanded herself for that thought and then pressed on:

"So... what are you saying now?"

"I'm not saying anything," Adam pointed out. "I was going to leave, remember?"

"I don't want us not to be friends." She was practically pleading now.

"You were the one who said we couldn't. And I think you were right."

"No!" She stepped forward. "No, I wasn't! If you still want to be friends..."

"Marlene..."

"What?"

Adam exhaled heavily; he brushed his floppy, light brown hair from his eyes and shifted his weight. "I wish you would make up your mind about what you want."

"Me too," agreed Marlene glumly, and he smiled a bit, as though he were trying not to.

"I don't want us to not be friends anymore, either," he allowed, after a while.

"Really?"

"Do you think we can just forget what happened?"

"Do you?" She waited anxiously for a response. At length, Adam nodded.

"I think I can."

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

They both just looked at each other. "Okay," said Marlene eventually. "So—friends?"

With only very little hesitation: "Friends," Adam agreed. But there was something in his eyes—something in his expression and the way he looked at her as he uttered the word—something that told her that everything had changed.

Friends.

The tragedy of the thing, Marlene thought as they said inelegant goodbyes, was that they both knew it was a lie.

(And Remus)

"So—some Herbology final, yeah?"

Remus Lupin looked up from his Defense Against the Dark Arts book and smiled weakly as Lily took the vacant chair across from him at the library table.

"How do you think you did?"

Remus merely shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. You?"

"Same, I guess." They sat for a moment, and then Lily went on: "I haven't seen you around much. I've been wanting to talk to you for ages, but—you're never alone. I never see you in the Common Room or at meals, either... finding you here was purely the result of diligent stalking."

"I've been having most of my meals in the Kitchens," said Remus softly. "And in the Common Room there's always the chance I'll run into Sirius, so..." He looked down at his book. "And, to be honest, I've kind of been avoiding you."

Lily nodded. "Yeah... I sort of thought so."

"I'm just... not really sure what to say to you," Remus continued. "Besides the others—James, Peter, Sirius, y'know—no one... I mean, I've never had anyone 'find out' about me. With Snape knowing, there are problems, but it's not as though I really care about his personal opinion of me, y'know? But I—with you, it's rather different."

Lily nodded again. "I'm glad I didn't know," she told him. "I mean, before. It would've been very complicated with Sev, and I understand why you wouldn't want to tell me... since he was my best friend and your worst enemy..." She sighed.

"Right."

"But that's not why I wanted to talk to you." Remus shifted uncomfortably. "Are you feeling alright? I mean, I can't pretend I'm an expert on..." She lowered her voice: "...lycanthropy, but it can't be very pleasant. I've read that lunar events can take an awful toll, and the next full moon is coming up, and... well... you already know all of this, of course."

"I'm fine," said Remus. "And, Lily, believe me, I get it."

"You get it? You get what?"

"You don't owe me anything, Lily."

"Remus, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Remus sighed. "I lied to you, and—it wasn't just something stupid or insignificant. It's the sort of secret that you should have known... that anyone considering whether or not they want to be my friend or spend time with me—that they have a right to know."

"Well, to be fair, you never said you weren't a werewolf," Lily joked, but when Remus's smile was—at best—half-hearted, she continued more seriously: "Remus, you don't have to apologize for not telling me. And you certainly don't have to apologize for... for having that."

"What about for trying to tear you limb from limb?"

"Eh. I've had worse nights." Remus continued to look un-amused. "Oh, c'mon, you're not laughing at any of my jokes," Lily complained. "Are you angry with me?"

"No, I'm not angry with you," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I' m just—I just feel guilty when I'm around you."

"Well, don't. You have nothing to feel guilty about. None of this is your fault."

"That doesn't change anything."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He deliberated, then continued: "I mean, it doesn't change the fact that I'm the sort of... creature... that respectable people avoid."

"'Creature,' Remus? Really?"

"Lily, they have lectures about my kind during Care of Magical Creatures class. I had to answer questions about me on my Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. I'm not a good person to have as a friend. I'm just not."

"What about James and Sirius and Peter?"

Remus sent her a significant look.

"Well, James and Peter, then?" she amended earnestly. "What about them? They're your friends."

"It's different. They've known since second year."

"And in four years, I'll have known for as long as they have now!"

"I know, it's just..."

"Just what?"

He hesitated. "If you had found out some other way... if Sirius hadn't told—told Snape, no less—then things would be different. It would be enough for you to say that you're okay with it. I would probably even be relieved that you know."

"But?"

"But Sirius told," replied Remus with a shrug. "My best mate used me in some ploy for revenge, and right now, I don't trust anyone with the secret. Not even James and Peter, and that's awful, but it's just the way I feel. For the first time in years, I wish they didn't know. I wish no one knew. Before Sirius told, I didn't realize how much I was dying to just get up in front of everyone and tell them all the truth, because I hated keeping this stupid secret, and I loved the fact that there was someone—three someones, to be more precise—who knew the truth. But now I know why I can't tell anyone. I'd rather keep this gnawing secret then... then the alternative."

Lily nodded slowly, and after some time half jokingly offered: "Do you want to obliviate me?"

Remus snorted. "I feel guilty enough about not trusting you... actually acting on that would just make it worse."

"You can trust me, Remus."

"I know that... it's just... difficult."

"Okay." Lily rose from the table. "We're still friends, though... right?"

"I—I would like that," replied Remus. "Assuming you're willing..."

"Of course." Lily chewed her lip, before adding: "If you need anything, I'm here."

"Thank-you." The witch started to leave. "Lily," Remus called softly after her, and she paused. To avoid anyone overhearing, he rose and approached her, leaning close as he spoke. "I know you've been spending time with Sirius..."

"Remus, he has no friends..."

"No, it's not that," interrupted the other. "I just—I want to warn you. I know you think you can trust him—that his heart's in the right place. That's what I've always thought. But you can't. You can't trust Sirius Black."

Lily met his eye. "I do, though."

Remus frowned, pain shining through on his pale, tired face. "Be careful, Lily."

She knew that he meant those to be parting words, but Lily stepped closer, abolishing the distance between them and hugging Remus tightly. When she released him, she said: "It'll all be okay, you know. Sirius, Potter... all of it. Promise."

Then, because Ms. Sevoy was sending them funny looks, Lily gave Remus's hand a final, comforting squeeze and left.

(With Certainty)

Even the euphoria of being with Frank was not enough to fully resurrect Alice's spirit in the wake of her first day of N.E.W.T. testing. On Monday evening, the witch lay sprawled out on Frank's bed, surrounded by books and class notes, none of which she had the energy or will to pursue any longer.

"I'm going to fail the Charms N.E.W.T.," she informed her boyfriend. "I just am. Hope you have a fun time with the aurors, Frank, because I'm going to end up a waitress."

The Head Boy, who sat, slumped, at his desk as he tried in vain to read another chapter on plant growth charms, shook his head. "You'll do fine. You're clever in Charms."

"No, I'm really not. I'm just a convincing phony."

"Oh, I doubt that very much." Smiling, Frank rose from the desk and switched on the wireless, before moving to the bed and laying down beside Alice. They remained still and quiet for some time, while an old song drifted across the room with promises of undying love and endless devotion.

"Ally," murmured Frank presently; "What if—what if we weren't aurors?"

Alice looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if we don't make it into the program? Or if we—decide to do something else instead?"

"Why would we decide to do something else instead?" pressed Alice. "Is there something else you're thinking about?"

"No," he admitted. "No, I don't know."

"Frank, what are you talking about?"

The Head Boy sighed. He pulled Alice closer, considering his reply carefully before delivering it. "I've always wanted to be an auror," he began slowly. "I've never thought about doing anything else with my life. But that—that was when I had you."

"You still have me," Alice pointed out. "And I have you."

"Yes, I know. But I've... I've not had you now; I know what that's like. I don't want to do it again, and if—if we weren't aurors, if we could just go away somehow..."

"Frank," Alice interrupted softly; "I know. I've thought about that, too."

"And...?"

"And I don't have an answer for you. I don't have a reason for us to stay here, except that I know that I have to stay—that I have to be an auror... that I have to fight. And I can't be certain, but I think you'll find that you feel the same thing."

Frank did not reply. The song on the wireless ended, and the announcer read a brief news update: a death eater attack in Wales, two muggle-born witches dead, a brief message from Mrs. Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, and then, back to the music...

"Frank?"

The wizard was pulled from his trance and smiled down at Alice before sitting up. "I guess we'd better get studying then."

Alice mirrored his smile and nodded. "I guess so."

Frank leaned over, kissing her softly on the lips. "I love you, Alice Griffiths."

"I love you, too."

(The End)

The strangest thing about the whole situation was the complete lack of ceremony. It was the Wednesday of exam week, and Lily finished her Defense final within minutes of Severus Snape. They were supposed to meet in the library for a bit of studying for the Charms examination, which was that afternoon, but Sev kept her waiting.

Finally, he arrived and took his place at one of the few available tables, but it wasn't the usual, out-of-the-way table in the corner, but one of the central ones, surrounded by dozens of industriously cramming students.

"Can't we sit somewhere else?" asked Severus, and Lily didn't miss the wary glance towards a table of fifth year Slytherins.

"Why?"

"Too noisy here," murmured the other. Obviously a lie—everyone was far too absorbed in preparing for the last days of finals to bother with chatting.

Lily looked annoyed; no, she looked worse than annoyed. She looked angry. "No," she said simply, and she continued to review her Charms notes.

Frustrated at the witch's stubbornness, Severus pressed: "Why not?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because."

Snape glowered. "That's not a reason."

Lily folded her arms across her papers and met Snape's black eyes defiantly. "Because aside from a handful of people in this room who are probably thinking the word 'mudblood' at this moment, I don't see any reason for us to move."

"I see," sneered the wizard. "So you're testing me."

She didn't deny it. "How do you think you did?"

"Lily," began the Slytherin, "we're supposed to be friends..."

"But we're not," she interrupted suddenly. "We're not, are we?"

Finally shaken: "W-what do you mean?"

"We used to tell each other things," Lily continued. Her voice was hollow—not without feeling, but somehow bare. "We used to know what was going on with one another. You didn't used to hide me, and you didn't used to use our friendship to get your way—like a petulant five-year-old... or maybe you were just better at it then, so I didn't notice." There was a hint of anger in her slightly shaky tone now. "We're not friends, Sev—when was the last time we've really, honestly been friends?"

"Lily..."

"I don't know what you said to Mulciber the other day," she went on. "I don't know whether or not you agree with him about blood status and death eaters... but I don't trust you, Sev, and you don't trust me."

"I do tr..."

"You don't tell me things anymore. I don't know what's happening in your life... what goes on when I'm not there, and you certainly don't know what's going on in mine—and that part is as much my fault as it is yours, because I don't tell you things either. We talk sometimes, but we don't say anything. We avoid things, and skirt around issues... we lie to each other..." She thought of the full moon incident and Severus's account of Mulciber's attack on Mary. "We're not friends," she finished in a whisper. "We haven't been friends for a long time." A solitary tear fell down her cheek, and Lily threw her study materials into her book bag.

She was out in the corridor before Severus pursued her.

"Just like that?" he snapped, catching up. "Just like that, we're not friends?"

"Just like that?" echoed Lily ironically. "This isn't 'all of a sudden,' Sev. A year ago, you called me a 'mudblood' in front of our entire year..."

"It was an accident, and you said you forgave..."

"Of course it was an accident!" Lily cut him off loudly. "It just slipped out, I know, because we'd quarreled, and because you were embarrassed, and because you were angry, it just slipped out! And I said I forgave you, that's right, but I didn't! I tried to—I even thought I did at times... But there's a reason I haven't confronted you about your unsubtle attempts to hide our friendship before now, and it's because I knew... I've known ever since that day after O.W.L.s that you won't pick me! And that night in the Entrance Hall—first day of the school year, when Mulciber made you pick... if James hadn't hit him, you would've sided with them, wouldn't you? You would've taken my wand..."

But Snape seemed to have gone deaf after a point. "So he's James now?"

"Oh, God, shut up!" she half shouted. "What is it that you two think of me, anyway? That I'm helplessly thick? That I can't be angry with one of you without the other twisting my arm? Why on earth do you think that anything James Potter does justifies anything that you do?"

"It always comes back to him with you..."

"Because you always bring it there!"

Snape's eyes flashed angrily. "I don't have to tolerate this..." he murmured, turning to leave. All that Lily registered was how much he had changed... How different he was from the little boy at the neighborhood park who had told her she was magic...

"I was right, wasn't I?" she said softly when he was a short distance away, and Severus paused to listen to her thought. "I said we'd both chosen our paths, and I was right. We'd already picked; we couldn't go back..."

Without looking and without saying a word, Snape resumed his brisk departure. Lily watched him leave; then, hiking up her bag on her shoulder, she turned and moved slowly in the other direction.

(Fifth Year, Part Two)

Mudblood.

The word echoed in her head as it had hours earlier.

You've chosen your way and I've chosen mine.

Lily clutched her dressing gown tightly around her middle. Fears soaked her face, and her hair was a wreck.

Sev was gone. Gone, gone, gone. Sev had called her a "mudblood." Sev had chosen them. Sev was gone.

Lily choked and coughed, grateful at least that she had got out of the dormitory. She couldn't handle Mary and Marlene's sympathy, or Donna's threats to strangle "that worthless Slytherin slime." Right now, she just needed to be left alone, and, while sitting in a corner of the fifth floor corridor at nine o'clock at night could very well get her a detention, Lily found that it was a risk she was willing to take.

Mudblood, said the Severus in her head once more, and her heart broke all over again.

"Lily Evans?"

Lily fairly well jumped at the sound of her name. A Ravenclaw sixth year stood quite close (how had she missed him?) looking at the tear-stained fifth year before him in surprise. The wizard was quite handsome, with neatly combed golden brown hair, deep, dark eyes, and a serious, intelligent air. Lily barely knew him—his name was Luke, and she thought his surname might be "Harper."

"You're not going to rat me out to Filch, are you?" she asked, her voice raspy from crying. Luke looked appalled at even the suggestion.

"Of course not. Are you okay?"

"Am—am I okay?" she stammered. "Do I look okay?"

Other boys would have been offended, or taken this as an indication that she was quite crazy and they had better steer clear; James Potter would probably have made a comment that she always looked quite fit, but Luke Harper simply looked apologetic. "I'm sorry." Then, much to Lily's very great surprise, the Ravenclaw sat down beside her. "Did—did someone die?"

"What? Oh, no." Lily shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's my friend Severus... he..."

"Oh, yes, I heard about that. James Potter and the other sixth years..."

"Right."

"Do you—want to talk about it?"

"Not really," sighed the redhead. With sympathy in his melancholy brown eyes, Luke placed a hand on her shoulder. Then, quite unintentionally, Lily found herself speaking: "He was supposed to be my best friend," she began desperately. "He was supposed to be—we rowed a few hours before, and he was frustrated with me... he was angry because of the Marauders, embarrassed because of Potter, and he... he just... he said it... he was supposed to be my best mate, and no—no matter how angry you are, there are certain things that you can't do... not to your best mate... not to someone you really, honestly care about. What does that say about him? What does that say about me?" She sniffed and went on: "We've been mates since—since before Hogwarts... he was the one who told me I was a witch... He was there when my sister started hating me—he was my first friend besides her... my first Hogwarts friend... I would've done anything for him, but he can't—he won't... he wouldn't do the same for me. But we've been best mates since I was nine... what... what exactly am I supposed to do if he's not there anymore...?"

Lily started, as though suddenly remembering that she wasn't actually alone, talking to herself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't—I shouldn't be bothering you with this. I don't even know you."

Luke smiled understandingly; he had a nice smile—a beautiful, classic, even-toothed smile. "Lucas Xavier Harper," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

Lily returned the smile (though hers was rather watery), taking his hand. "Lily Marie Evans."

They shook. "So," Luke continued, "What else is there?"

"What do you mean?"

The Ravenclaw reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of white cloth. A handkerchief. He handed it to Lily. "What else is there that you do not want to bother other people with?"

Lily stared disbelievingly from the handkerchief to Luke.

"I'm a very good listener," he told her.

"Really?"

"Yes."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, but held onto the handkerchief as she continued with her story (such as it was). Luke was easy to talk to; he had no opinion on Severus Snape, no specific affection for James Potter... he listened attentively. She reminisced, she mourned, she vented, and—she thought—there was something about Luke Harper... something that warranted a second look.

(Present)

"This is just sad," grumbled Alice crossly. "I've been at Hogwarts seven years, and I only find out about this place in my last week here?"

She sat in a large, comfy sofa with Lily, while Sirius Black tended to the fire. The three Gryffindors were in a decently sized room, with bare white walls, a few items of mismatched furniture, and a comfortable looking bed. Sirius had at last relented and agreed to show Lily where he had been sleeping for the last few weeks, and Lily had brought Alice along for a much-needed break from studying.

"The house elves call it the Come and Go Room," Sirius explained. "James and I found it in fourth year. We were trying to find a place to stick Mrs. Norris, and this just appeared... mind you, it took us three hours to find her again, so that was less pleasant."

"You might have told a girl sooner," murmured Alice, eyeing her surroundings in awe. "This would certainly have come in handy a few times..."

"I really don't want to know where you're going with that thought, Alice Griffiths," Sirius interrupted. "Especially since I'm pretty certain it involves your boyfriend."

"It frightens me that my mind went to the exact same place as yours, Sirius Black," said Alice. Sirius grinned and moved towards one of the end tables, where he grabbed a paper bag.

"Pumpkin Pasty?"

"Oh, yes please."

Sirius tossed her the bag, before taking a seat in a commanding brown chair.

"Want one, Lily?" offered Alice, holding up the bag to the redhead. Lily, however, was staring into the fire and didn't seem to hear. "Hello? Lily?"

She started, as though waking up. "What? Oh, no thank-you."

"You alright, Evans?" asked Sirius. "You're rather quiet tonight."

Lily smiled weakly and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. What about you? How are your exams going?"

Sirius shrugged. "I have more time on my hands to study, but I've got no Lupin around to force me to do it... so about the same as ever."

"I wish you would just tell me what this is all about," Alice complained, biting resentfully into a pumpkin pasty. "It's disconcerting seeing the other Marauders angry with you, Sirius. What, exactly, was this prank that's got the others so peeved?"

"Trust me," Sirius deflected easily; "You're better off not knowing."

"Can you get it out of him, Lily?" asked Alice hopefully, but Lily merely shook her head.

"I don't suppose anyone can."

"Well, then you'll have to work it out of James," the seventh year pressed. "Or Remus."

Sirius watched Lily intently as she made some poor excuse about that. "Anyway," she added, "Potter and I aren't exactly on excellent terms."

"Well, are you ever?" Alice pointed out. "That's your way, though. You bicker, then you have a huge fight, everything blows up, then you lay low for a bit, start to get along alright, then move back into bickering, and so on and so forth. Vicious cycle."

"Maybe not this time," said Lily. "I think Potter and I have effectively ended the cycle this time." There was something in her tone that told Alice the conversation had taken a serious turn. A funny idea occurred to the seventh year, noting the silent understanding between her two companions. Alice got to her feet rather abruptly.

"I'm supposed to meet Frank in a few minutes—I really should get going."

With an encouraging smile to Sirius and a promise to see Lily later, Alice departed the Come-and-Go Room, and the other two were left alone.

"Alright, Evans," said Sirius, lighting a cigarette. "Let's hear it. What's wrong?"

"Most things," Lily replied. "I'm fairly certain I failed Charms."

"Rubbish—you're the best in our year at Charms."

"Except for Potter," Lily added, almost resentfully. "Have you spoken with him at all?"

"What do you think?"

"Fair enough." She watched the trail of smoke emanating from Sirius's cigarette and remembered something James had once told her. "You have to admit, there's something striking about the smoke."

It seemed an eternity ago she had sat in the Great Hall with James Potter, while he smoked, and they talked about their dads. They were going to try to be friends then; James was giving her advice about Frank and Alice and Carlotta...

"...If these two are as destined as you seem to think they are, they'll survive..."

She had just made up with Sev at the time... she was still with Luke... still happy with Luke... and Donna: she still had Donna...

"What are you thinking about?" Sirius interrupted her memories, taking a long drag from his own cigarette.

Lily didn't exactly answer. She leaned forward and stared into the fire. "Do you think you'll ever make up with them?"

Sirius smirked bitterly. "You were the one who said I would," he pointed out. "Lost the optimism, have you?"

"No. I don't know." She bit her lip thoughtfully. "I think they miss you, you know."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't think they do."

"Just because they don't show it, doesn't mean they don't miss you," Lily told him firmly. "It's just difficult, that's all."

We're not talking about me anymore, are we?" asked Sirius, with more genuine humor. Lily met his eye briefly, and then looked away. "It's Snape, isn't it? I heard you two fought."

"How did you hear that?" she asked, surprised.

"Half the library heard that, and you know how news spreads around here."

"Right." Lily sighed. "Right."

"Miss the git already, do you?" muttered Sirius sullenly.

Lily leaned back against the couch. "A bit," she replied. "But not as much as last time. I miss the old Severus... I don't even know the one that's there now. But actually, I wasn't thinking of him just now..."

"Who then? Not Harper, surely..."

"No, not Luke."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Then who were you thinking of?"

(Cassidy, Part Two)

Donna Shacklebolt moved lethargically through the busy corridors (alone as usual these days), having just finished her Ancient Runes exam. She didn't know how she had done on the test... could scarcely remember a single question she had answered, actually, and was strangely apathetic about the whole thing.

"I mean, why did we even ever become friends? Can you remember?"

Lily had been in the exam, too, concentrating whole-heartedly on the test, Donna believed, and not noticing her former friend a few desks away as she struggled to keep her amber eyes and scattered thoughts on the parchment. Donna wondered if Lily had realized or guessed that she was no longer seeing Charlie Plex. Mary had figured it out and briefly attempted consolation before Donna told her to "Go shag a broomstick." So, if Mary knew then Lily almost certainly did, and since there had been no effort towards communication from the redhead, Donna could only assume that Lily just didn't care.

"You're completely heartless, Donna Shacklebolt. Don't talk to me."

And Donna couldn't blame her.

She reached the staircase down to the third floor and was moments from descending, when a voice broke through the dull chatter of the dozen or so others in the corridor, and Donna paused.

"Donna Shacklebolt!" someone—a girl—shouted. Donna turned to face whoever had called her name, but she had not rotated fully, not registered the crop of yellow curls or angry flushed cheeks, not responded at all really, when a flash of light filled the corridor, pain shot through Donna's abdomen, and everything went decidedly black.

(Third Year)

Thirteen-year-old Donna Shacklebolt sat down in a vacant, front-row desk of the Ancient Runes classroom. She was more than ten minutes early for the class itself, but she liked to be prepared, and a good professor, she thought, would recognize and appreciate that.

Withdrawing her class schedule from her book bag, Donna smoothed the parchment out on her desk and reread it. She had elected to take Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures, forsaking Divination because her schedule simply didn't make time for it, and because her brother Kingsley said it was all rubbish.

Unfortunately, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs was next, and Donna loathed both Herbology and Hufflepuffs. Actually, she loathed most of the houses, come to think of it. The Slytherins were gits, the Gryffindors were immature, and the Hufflepuffs were all daft. Ravenclaw was alright—she ought to have been in Ravenclaw. She knew it, and everyone else knew it, and she wondered vaguely if there was any way to be re-sorted.

There wasn't really anything wrong with Gryffindor house, of course, but it certainly had not lived up to Donna Shacklebolt's expectations, which were, of course, primarily founded upon her elder brother, a recent Hogwarts alumnus and fellow Gryffindor. There wasn't really even anything wrong with her classmates in the house either—James Potter and Sirius Black were immature buggers, but annoyingly brilliant in all the classes. Remus Lupin and Adam McKinnon were decent, but Donna wasn't sure she'd ever spoken to them beyond "Pass the salt," at supper and "Did you take notes on that Charms lecture?" in the Common Room. Peter Pettigrew was rather afraid of her (most people were, though), so interaction between them had been even more limited.

As for her dorm-mates, Carlotta Meloni was a bubble-headed hippie, Shelley Mumps might as well have been a lost puppy (what with the way she followed Carlotta around), Mary Macdonald and Marlene Price were inseparable (and annoying), and Lily Evans, though bright enough, hung around with that creepy Snape bloke, which just showed poor judgment. As far as Donna was concerned, she herself was the only sensible one in the lot of them.

A few Ravenclaws shuffled into the classroom, and Donna once again wished that she had asked to be in that house. She would be very much surprised if any other Gryffindors in her year bothered with anything as tricky as Ancient Runes.

She didn't precisely have friends at Hogwarts. She was too rough around the edges, and tended to frighten people (especially girls) by being what she called "honest" and most people called "mean." But no one was unkind to her; no one picked on her, and people kind of respected her, she thought. Anyway, they didn't pester her.

"Hey, Donna, can I sit here?"

Surprised, Donna looked up to see Lily Evans standing tentatively nearby, book bag slung over her shoulder and expectance on her freckled face.

"Um—what?"

"Can I sit here?" Lily repeated.

"Oh. Right. Sure."

"I wasn't sure if you were saving it for anyone," said Lily, sitting down in the other half of the desk. "You know, we're the only two Gryffindors in this class, except Remus Lupin, but he had to go home... visit his sick mum or something. Odd, considering it's the first week, but there you are."

That was another thing Donna disliked (or didn't like, anyway) about Lily: she was so damn chatty.

"Right," was the witch's sole response, and anyone else would have been put off by her clear lack of interest.

"Anyway, for me, it came down to choosing between Ancient Runes and Divination, and Divination looks a little barmy if you ask me. I mean, you're either a seer or your not, from what I've read, and staring at tea leaves won't make a difference if you're not. And I most definitely am not; Merlin, I can hardly remember which drawer I put my socks in; seeing into the future is out of the question. What about you? Which classes are you signed up for?"

Donna told her.

"You'll be busy," Lily noted. Donna made no reply, and the redhead was quiet for a time. "Can I ask you something, Donna?" she asked at length.

"Do I have a choice?" grumbled the other.

"Sure, you do," replied Lily. "You always have a choice, don't you?" Donna just stared at her. "So can I?"

"Fine."

"Lovely. So... why are you always such a... well, such a bitch?"

Donna looked at her, wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you are," said Lily, shrugging. "Oh, c'mon, it can't be insulting to you. You clearly do it on purpose."

"W-what?" Donna spluttered.

"I mean, you're always so set on getting everyone to be afraid of you, and you're quite successful, but I was just wondering why?" Lily looked at her with large, curious eyes, and Donna could not have been more surprised if the scrawny ginger had just asked her to stand on the desk and dance a jig.

"People aren't a-afraid of me," Donna managed to say at length, knowing that it was a lie.

"Of course they are," said Lily. "You hexed Billy Betwy for looking at you funny. People are downright terrified of you."

"Billy Betwy is a git."

"Neither here nor there."

Donna took a moment to collect herself. "Well, you're clearly not afraid of me."

Lily smiled mischievously. "I'm not afraid of anyone."

And, curiously, Donna believed it. "I don't know," she said after a while. "I reckon I'm just used to it is all."

"It's too bad, then," replied the redhead lightly, pulling out her Ancient Runes text. "You have decent taste in books, I've noticed."

Donna was sufficiently dumbfounded by that, and she pretended to focus on her own Ancient Runes book rather than confront the fact. Professor Babble—the teacher—had not yet arrived when the last of the front row desks were taken by a pair of Slytherins, Zabini and Mulciber.

The latter sat immediately to Donna's right, and on noticing the Gryffindor, elbowed his companion and muttered something. Both Lily and Donna noticed, but both pretended not to until the last possible moment. Then, Mulciber leaned over the narrow corridor between desks and spoke.

"Better watch it, Shacklebolt," he muttered. "I heard about your old man."

"Congratulations," she retorted in a quiet, steady voice. "So have I."

"He'd better be careful about what he blabs," Mulciber continued. "'Saying things like that about... about well, you know who. He doesn't take kindly to that.
Or haven't you heard what happened to Jonah McKinnon?"

"Shut up, Mulciber," snapped Lily. "And seriously, who are you kidding taking Ancient Runes? You'll fail out before Christmas."

Mulciber scowled. "Filthy mudblood," he muttered, before slinking off with his housemate to a more remote desk.

Donna scowled at Lily. "I don't need you standing up for me," she said. "I'm not like that Snape friend of yours."

Lily snorted. "You're more alike than you might imagine," she answered. "Anyway, I wasn't standing up for you. I read what your dad said about that—that Voldemort wizard, and I agreed. So, technically, I was standing up for your father." She smirked at Donna's projected annoyance, and then Professor Babble entered, and both girls were compelled to be quiet.

An hour later, the bell rang, and the third years began to gather up their things. "I'm going to have lunch with Marlene Price and Mary Macdonald," Lily told Donna, while filing her three sheets of class notes into a folder. "I know you sort of hate people, but if you want... you could come, too."

Donna didn't have the faintest idea why the offer was tempting, but her reply lacked its typical aloofness: "Marlene Price doesn't like me."

Lily frowned. "No," she agreed uncomfortably. "Though I think that might be related to the fact that you're always calling her a flake. Of course, I don't know how you're ever going to convince her that you're not a complete sod if you don't come."

"I don't care what she thinks of me," said Donna defiantly.

"No? Alright." Lily started to leave, but paused near the door. She turned and folded her arms. "Are you coming or not?"

Donna considered it. Then, picking up her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder, she crossed the room and joined Lily. "Well, if you're going to be a pest about it, I don't see that I have much choice..."

Amused, Lily rolled her eyes but did not argue, and the two witches walked down to the Great Hall.

(Present)

Shelley Mumps threw open the Gryffindor sixth year girls' dormitory door with much enthusiasm, taking Lily utterly by surprise.

"Shelley?" asked Lily, sitting up on her bed, where she was walled in by Transfiguration notes. "What's wrong?"

"M-M-Marlene sent me to f-f-fetch you," panted Shelley. Sweat glistened on her face, and her dirty blond hair stuck to her forehead. Lily got to her feet, walking quickly towards her roommate.

"What's wrong? Is she okay?"

Shelley took a moment and regained herself. "Sorry," she breathed; "I sprinted all the way here, you know."

"Is Marlene alright?" pressed Lily.

"Marlene? Oh, Marlene's fine. It's Donna."

"Donna?"

Shelley nodded. "Marlene and Mary are there now..."

"Marlene and Mary are where now?"

"Oh. Right. Hospital Wing. Donna's in the infirmary. She..." But Shelley had not completed the thought before Lily was out the door.

---

Donna's eyes flickered open, and she groaned loudly. "What the fuck happened?"

"And she's awake," said a voice that sounded like Marlene Price's. Donna groaned again as she looked around to examine her surroundings (her neck ached something awful). She was in an infirmary cot; Marlene and Mary sat at the end of the bed, amusement on their faces as they watched her. Lily was standing nearby, arms folded, with a wry expression of her own.

"What happened?" Donna moaned, sitting up; it seemed a 'more tactful' (as Lily would say) question to ask than "What are you doing here?"

Mary and Marlene exchanged smiles. "Cassidy Gamp hexed you," said the latter. "It seems she found out you were shagging her boyfriend."

"And by 'found out,' Marlene means Charlie Plex confessed to her," added Mary. "I think he meant it to be revenge of some kind on you, dear, but he ended up with a lovely set of purple tentacles... Madam Pomfrey only just sent him away."

Donna struggled to comprehend all of this as she massaged her throbbing head. "I'm starting to remember... I was walking on the fourth floor..." She recalled with greater clarity: "That bitch attacked me from behind!"

Lily seemed to be smothering laughter, but Marlene and Mary showed no such courtesy, as they both dissolved into giggles.

"What the hell is so funny?" Donna snapped. Then, worriedly, she added—"I don't have tentacles, do I?"

"No, no," chuckled Marlene. "But it's just so funny! I mean—Cassidy Gamp! Cassidy Gamp, that tiny, flakey little Hufflepuff put Donna sodding Shacklebolt in the Hospital Wing!"

"Really—who knew Cassidy Gamp was such a firecracker?"

"Well, it's nice to see you were worried," muttered Donna sarcastically.

"Calm down," said Mary. "We were appropriately scared for you... until we heard the whole story. Then we laughed. Madam Pomfrey isn't quite sure what exactly Cassidy tried to use on you... apparently it was an odd mishmash of Petrificus Totalus, a Jelly Legs curse, and a stunning spell... the combination of which did nothing but knock you out for about an hour."

"And give me a bloody massive headache," Donna added. "Idiot Hufflepuff couldn't even hex me properly."

"Cut her some slack," said Marlene. "You were shagging her boyfriend..."

"That ended weeks ago," retorted the patient with dignity.

"Oh, well, in that case... it was downright unreasonable of Cassidy to be angry."

"Sod off, Price." Donna made a face at the blonde, and then glanced uncertainly towards Lily. "Hi..."

"Hi," replied Lily, equally awkward.

Mary smirked. "Lily was really worried when she heard you were in the Hospital Wing," she said, earning her a glare from the redhead.

"I wasn't that worried..."

"'Frantic' would be an apt description," Marlene piped up.

"Until I heard you'd lost in a duel to Cassidy Gamp," cut in Lily. "Then I figured you probably deserved what you got."

"I didn't lose in a duel... Oh, Merlin, is that what people are saying?"

"Don't worry," consoled Mary. "There were a dozen witnesses who said Cassidy assaulted you. She's lost Hufflepuff half their points, which isn't saying much. Of course..." Mary looked a little nervous for the first time, "everyone in the school knows you were shagging Charlie Plex now."

Donna fell back onto her pillows. "Fantastic. Just fantastic."

Marlene and Mary exchanged another look. "I'll go tell Madam Pomfrey you're awake," said the brunette, standing up. "Coming, Marlene?"

The two departed, leaving Lily and Donna alone. The prefect moved hesitantly closer to Donna's cot.

"You okay?" she asked casually.

"Well—I have a splitting headache, my reputation as a force to be reckoned with is completely shot, and every girl in the school will now be whispering about me behind my back, so—no, not so great."

Lily smiled, and it would have been annoying, if Donna were not so grateful that she was there at all. "They'll get over it. They always do. Anyway... I thought you didn't care what people think of you."

"I don't. I just—y'know, would rather avoid the drama."

"Right."

"Right."

Lily shook her head and sat down on the edge of Donna's bed. "You know," she began slowly, "recently, you asked me a question—you asked me how we became friends, and I didn't have an answer. But I remember now."

"Me too," muttered Donna. "The first day of Ancient Runes."

Lily nodded. "I think you only agreed to have lunch with us because I complimented your taste in books."

Donna snorted and looked down at her hands. "No," she said. "It was because you weren't afraid to tell me I was a bitch... and because you said it without trying to insult me."

"Really?"

"Really." Silence, then: "Why did you invite me to lunch in the first place, though?"

Lily considered the question before answering. "I tend to get really chatty around strangers... and even though we'd already shared a dorm for two years, we were pretty much strangers. I kept talking and you... you didn't tell me to shut up, like I expected."

"I wanted to," Donna confessed.

"I know."

They looked at each other for a minute, and then Donna continued quietly: "I'm sorry about what I said. Really, I am."

"I know," said Lily again.

There was a lump growing in Donna's throat, but—along with her pride—she swallowed it. "I miss being your mate."

Lily nodded. "I miss you, too."

"So... you don't want me to stay away anymore?"

The redhead smiled again. "What is it people always say? Life's too short?"

"I suppose... although there's this bloke... Nicolas Flamel... he's about six hundred years old, and y'know, a healthy witch or wizard could easily live to be..."

"Donna."

"Right. Figure of speech. I get it."

Mary and Marlene returned, Mary carrying a vial of something liquid that looked rather disgusting. "Madam Pomfrey is busy with panic-stricken O.W.L. students," said Marlene. "We're supposed to have you take this to ward off unpleasant side effects of Cassidy's attack."

Mary handed Donna the bottle. "Have you two made up then? Or should we subtly leave for a few more minutes?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Donna with as much dignity as she could muster. She swallowed the potions and looked as though she were going to gag.

"You can stay," Lily told the other two. "Everything's back to normal."

"Perfect," said Marlene gleefully. "Because I'm not sure how I would shun Donna when there is all this opportunity for mockery."

"Oh, don't take it too hard, Donna," Mary comforted seriously. "After all, I'm sure there are some first or second year Hufflepuffs who wouldn't be able to take you down."

"Maybe if we catch some new firsties next year," suggested Marlene. "Y'know—in Diagon Alley, before they've bought their wands..."

"Maybe an unarmed muggle..." added Mary.

"A blind unarmed muggle, perhaps..."

"Oh, yes, you two are just hilarious," snapped Donna, but even Lily was giggling. "Agrippa's sake... Cassidy Gamp. I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Oh, Donna," sighed Marlene. "No. You're not. But it's so cute that you thought you might."

(Pocket)

"Mary?"

Mary Macdonald turned to see Hufflepuff Reginald Cattermole advancing towards her. He looked much as he always did—small and thin, with non-descript brown hair, cut like most of the boys that age (in varying degrees of inferiority to and imitation of David Cassidy).

"Hi," she greeted, genuinely pleased to see the Hufflepuff. Only one day of exams remained, after all, and shortly thereafter they would all be returning home: she would like to say goodbye. "What are you doing here?"

"I was up to see Professor Dawton about my Astronomy exam."

Mary waited for Reginald to reach her before responding. "And how did you do?"

"Quite well. I'm very good at Astronomy."

"I was always rubbish at it," replied the Gryffindor. "Too much arithmetic."

"What are you doing here, though?" Reginald asked, his green eyes darkening strangely. "I thought you weren't taking to the hallways alone..."

Mary sighed, holding up her already drawn wand indicatively. "Baby steps, I suppose."

"Oh. Right."

They were quiet for a moment, and then Mary added: "Of course, if you wanted to walk me to Gryffindor Tower, I wouldn't object..."

"No?"

"Nope."

"Well, alright."

They continued on in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, chatting idly about nothing in particular. "Stebbins is taking me to a Q-word match in July," said Mary cheerfully. "Not that I care about the game, except as far as the house teams go, but he seems excited, and it's a nice gesture, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," agreed Reginald. "But, Mary, it's a little strange that you call your boyfriend 'Stebbins.'"

"It would be much stranger if I called him by his first name."

"Why?"

"Because it's Umbert." Mary winced, and so did Reginald.

"Umbert?"

"Umbert."

"Alright, 'Stebbins' isn't so bad."

Mary laughed. "Says the wizard named Reginald."

"For my father."

"Nonetheless."

Reginald shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "You still haven't decided what you're going to call me, you know."

"I know," sighed Mary. "It's a very difficult process... I rather liked 'Cat,' but Potter appears to have usurped that one. Give it time; I'll decide eventually. I am quite indecisive, but I always arrive at conclusions." She winked one heavily painted eye, and then continued: "What about you, Reginald Cattermole? Any recent romantic developments?"

Reginald snorted. "No," he replied, blushing.

"Hogwarts birds are idiots," Mary consoled knowingly. "But I wish you would tell me who this girl is that you fancy... I don't see why you shouldn't. I can keep a secret if I try."

"I don't believe it."

"It's true! I kept a very big secret for Donna Shacklebolt for ages... right up until Cassidy Gamp told the entire school..." Reginald continued to look doubtful, and Mary scowled. "C'mon—you've got to tell me. It's not fair!"

She pouted rather childishly, and Reginald relented. "Lily Evans," he mumbled, and though it was little more than a cough, Mary caught the name.

Oddly enough, it bothered her immensely. She took a moment to analyze this, arriving at the conclusion that she felt rather sorry for Reginald Cattermole, as he most certainly did not belong with Lily Evans. No, not at all.

"I know it's idiotic," Reg continued in an unhappy, rushed undertone; "I wouldn't stand a chance, would I? She's Lily Evans, after all."

"Oh, it's not that," said Mary quickly. "But Lily is... well... she's very complicated, you know."

"I only fancy her a bit," the Hufflepuff vowed.

"Well—what... what do you fancy about her, exactly?"

Reginald looked surprised at the question. "She's perfect, isn't she? She's pretty, and brilliant, and clever... she's always been very nice to me, too. Always very polite, even back in fourth and fifth year..."

I'm pretty, Mary could not help but think. Not amazingly clever, though, she knew... at least, not in school. She was good at making things, though, and good at taking care of people, and... well, not like Lily, of course. Reginald was right about that. Lily was perfect. And she, Mary, had not always been particularly nice to Reginald... not before this year. Mary realized that it was quite smart of her never to compare herself to Lily (or anyone, really) for the last six years... Why on earth did this only occur to her now?

"Well, you couldn't have picked better," Mary eventually chirped. "Lily is fantastic, isn't she?" And the witch quickly changed the subject. "I'm thinking of dyeing my hair blond."

The majority of the remaining walk to the portrait of the Fat Lady was occupied with Reginald convincing Mary not to dye her hair blond or any other color.

"This is me," sighed Mary, when they arrived at Gryffindor Tower's entrance. "Thanks for walking me."

"You're welcome."

"Sleep well."

"You as well."

They both smiled, and then Mary hugged the Hufflepuff briefly. "Have a good summer, Reg."

"You, too. Be sure to write?"

"Of course." She paused before giving the Fat Lady the password. "Reg," she repeated thoughtfully. "I suppose that's what I'll call you."

Reginald smiled. "It's taken you all year to decide on Reg?"

Mary merely shrugged. "I like to be thorough with the big things," she declared. "Goodnight, Reg."

"Goodnight, Mary."

He retreated in the direction from which they came, and Mary turned to the Fat Lady and gave the password: "Amathia."

She was no longer thinking of her conversation with Reg as stepped inside the Common Room; she had already moved on from it, but she had not forgotten. Rather, as with all things concerning Reginald Cattermole, Mary put it in her pocket, saving it for later.

(Second Year, Part Two)

Twelve-year-old Remus Lupin had very good cause to look at his three roommates as if they were insane, because—quite frankly—they were acting rather batty.

"Lupin," greeted Sirius mysteriously.

"Er... hi." Remus held up the scrap of parchment he had found pinned to his bed that afternoon. "Did you three write this?"

"That depends," said Peter, matching Sirius's enigmatic tone. "What does it say?"

Remus frowned. "How many notes do you think I have pinned to my pillow every day? It says... 'Lupine,' spelled L-U-P-I-N-E incidentally... 'Lupine, if you know what's good for you, you'll be in the unused classroom on the first floor outside the Great Hall at nine p.m. tonight. If you can't find that room, you should ask someone for directions. P.S. If you do ask for directions, don't tell the person that you ask why you're looking for the classroom. In fact, don't tell anyone. Nine p.m. Unused Classroom. First floor.' And then there's a picture of something that might a unicorn." He folded his arms.

"Okay, it's clearly a dragon!" Peter protested, and Sirius and James glared at him.

"'If you know what's good for you?'" echoed the latter. "Really, Pete?"

"We weren't trying to threaten him!" agreed Sirius.

"And you misspelled my name," Remus added.

"And really, Pete, a unicorn?"

"It's obviously a dragon! Look! Look at it—it's a dragon!"

"Wow, okay." Sirius crossed his arms. "Peter is officially off note-writing duties."

"You didn't tell me what to write! I had to be creative!"

"A unicorn, Peter?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Okay, well, if you lot aren't trying to blackmail me or steal my money, why did you want me to meet you here?"

Sirius and James seemed to remember the task at hand, while a sulking Peter sat down in a nearby desk. "Well, Remus Lupin," resumed James seriously, "we asked you to come here, because we wanted to..." He looked at Sirius for help.

"We wanted to tell you that..." Sirius looked back at James.

Remus cocked his head to one side, waiting for more information. None of his roommates spoke. "Well?"

"Sorry," James apologized, sighing. "This is a lot trickier in real life, y'know? Alright, here's the thing, Lupin." He sent Sirius another purposeful look, and the two boys chorused: "We know."

"You... know what?" But Remus's confidence was clearly shaken.

"We know where you go every month," elaborated Sirius. "We know that you're... that you're a werewolf."

Remus went very pale. His grey eyes grew wide with fright, and he had to take several steadying breaths before he could speak again. "H-how... how do y-y-you know?"

"We followed you," said Sirius, glowing with pride.

"No we didn't," James cut in.

"Yes, we did!"

"No! Well, yes, but that's not how we found out. We didn't follow him until this month. We figured it out because of the Astronomy thing."

"We still followed him."

"Only to the Whomping Willow," Peter added, rejoining the others. "We couldn't get beyond that, though."

"The tree broke Sirius's arm," James volunteered, and Sirius scowled.

"It was a minor sprain."

"You were crying."

"I was not!"

"There were tears."

"It's not crying unless the tears are out of your eyes, Potter."

"So you admit there were tears?"

"No."

"Guys," interrupted Remus, and the three suddenly remembered why they were there. The young werewolf looked positively terrified. "What are you going to do?" he asked shakily. Sirius frowned.

"Do?"

"Yes. You just found out you live with a werewolf... are you going to... to write your parents? Have me kicked out?"

The other three were quiet for a time. "Could we even do that?" Peter wanted to know, and James shot him a supercilious glare. "What? I was just wondering..."

"Of course we're not going to have you kicked out!" said Sirius. "Why on earth would we do that?"

"Because—because I'm a monster!"

James rolled his eyes. "You're being dramatic. You fold your socks, Remus. Forgive me if I'm not trembling at the sight of you."

Remus looked at them all incredulously. "So you're not—you're not afraid of me?"

"You do fold your socks," agreed Sirius. "And why would we be afraid? You've got no cause to eat us, do you?"

Remus exhaled heavily. He crossed the classroom and sat down in a desk. "It's not like that. When I—when I transform, I'm not myself. I can't control anything."

"Is that why you scratch yourself up?" asked Peter, sitting down as well. James and Sirius followed suit.

"I'm alone," replied Remus quietly. "When I transform, I go to the Shrieking Shack... no, it's not haunted. The sounds that the villagers hear is me... once a month. On the full moon. There's nothing else to attack in the house, so I—I scratch and bite myself."

There was a long, pregnant pause. Then—

"This is so cool!" exclaimed Sirius, and Remus looked at him as though he were crazy. "Not the scratching and biting yourself," Sirius amended quickly. "Obviously that's... rather not cool. But, mate, you turn into a wolf. A bloody wolf! And you're our roommate!"

"It is rather cool," James agreed. "So, now, when you transform, do you...?"

"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted, rising abruptly. "You three—you don't mind that I'm a werewolf?" They shook their heads. "You don't... but... but, I mean... werewolves, they're not exactly... popular... And, for all you know, I could be dangerous!"

Sirius exhaled wearily. "Really, Lupin, what part of 'you fold your socks?' isn't getting through? We're not afraid of you! We think it's... cool."

"Well it's not," retorted Remus. "It's bloody awful. Transforming hurts, and scratching and biting myself isn't exactly a laugh either. I'll never have any mates, because I'm a freak, and I'm always afraid that someone's going to find out and have me expelled. It's bloody awful being a werewolf!"

Another silence, and then Sirius spoke: "We're your mates," he said. "The three of us. We're your mates. We won't tell anyone, and what's more, we'll make sure no one else finds out either."

"Exactly," acceded James. "And, hey, if you're scratching and biting yourself, maybe we could go with you to stop..."

"Hold up," Remus interrupted again. "Are you out of your bloody mind? Werewolves are frowned upon for a reason, you know! I can't control myself, and, no offense, but the three of you are no match for me on a full moon. I'd have bitten one of you within five minutes, believe me."

"It's alright with me," said James. "I think it'd be neat to turn into a wolf once a month."

"You're mad!" cried Remus. "It's not fun! And anyway, it's illegal for a werewolf to turn someone else, even if they wanted it. Plus, your whole life, you'd have to transform every single month... you wouldn't be able to get a proper job when you're through with Hogwarts... I know you like Quidditch, James; you think they'll let a werewolf on the national team, do you?" He looked pointedly at James, who sighed.

"Fine. Turning us into werewolves is out," the wizard allowed, and Peter looked extremely relieved. "And you won't let us come along with you... but it's bloody unfair you have to do it all on your own and rip yourself up like that. Can't be safe, either. There must be something we can do?"

"There isn't," Remus insisted. "Listen, it's really nice of you to say, but..."

"Well, it's not important," Sirius interjected, hopping to his feet and casually waving off Remus's disparaging remarks. "We'll think of something."

"But there is nothing."

James scoffed. "Really, Remus. This is us. There's always something. And trust me, we'll think of it."

Remus didn't seem convinced, but he made no more argument. "Listen," he began presently, "there's one thing I have to ask. I understand if you can't, but... if you wouldn't mind keeping this to yourselves..."

"Sod's sake, of course we're not going to tell anyone!" laughed James. "Honestly, Lupin, we're not thick."

"You just asked me to turn you into a werewolf..." Remus pointed out. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Right now, we'll make a pact," he said, gesturing for James and Peter to rise from their own desks and follow him. The four boys met in the middle of the dark, empty classroom. "None of us will ever tell that Remus is a werewolf. No matter what. Not even if they torture us with a thousand and ten Cruciatus curses."

"We should make an unbreakable oath!" suggested Peter. James and Sirius took up the idea with enthusiasm, until they realized that none of them had the faintest idea how to perform an unbreakable oath.

"Well, it'll have to be a plain old regular oath," resigned Sirius. "But all the same, it's a bloody huge deal, alright?" He extended his arm so that his hand rested in the middle of the circle formed by the four boys. James slapped his hand on top of Sirius's, and Peter followed.

"You too, Remus," James instructed. "Of course, it's your secret, so you can tell whomever you like, but all the same, it feels like you should be a part of this."

"Absolutely," Sirius agreed. "C'mon on then."

Hesitantly, Remus placed his hand on top of Peter's, and all four boys stood like that for a few seconds, before James spoke. "We four wizards of Gryffindor," he began quite solemnly, "vow to keep the secret of Remus Lupin's... problem—his furry problem—we vow to keep it a secret for as long as we live, except Remus, who can tell whomever he likes. But, he has to let us help him in whatever way we can."

"And the rest of us," Sirius resumed, "vow to do whatever we can to help him so that he doesn't scratch and bite himself on the full moon, because we're his mates..." He grinned in Remus's direction, "whether he's a human or a wolf."

"You guys don't have to..."

"Hush up, Lupin, we're vowing," said James. "How should we end it, then?"

"This we do vow," said Peter gravely. Sirius made a face.

"That's cheesy. How about... in the name of Gryffindor..."

"That's cheesy," said James.

"How about 'one for all and all for one?'" suggested Remus. The others looked at him. "It's from a muggle book."

"How about we each say, I promise, at the end, and then we break," said James. The other three shrugged and nodded. "Alright. Who goes first?"

"I will," said Remus. "I, Remus, promise."

"I, Peter, promise."

"I, Sirius, promise."

"I, James, promise." Pause. "Break."

The four boys withdrew their hands a little awkwardly. "Remus, Peter, Sirius, and James," Sirius listed amusedly. "That's a mouthful. I feel like we should have a collective name."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Why? Because we'll become so infamous, that people will talk about us so much, and it will be an inconvenience just to list our names?"

"Exactly," said Sirius.

Remus snorted. "Right. Like that'll ever happen."

(Present)

The Marauders' very last exam was in Transfiguration on Friday. After the written portion of the final, each student took a practical test as well, and with Professor McGonagall calling their names in alphabetical order, James found himself waiting till fairly close to the end. Remus left for lunch as soon as he was finished, but Peter waited around outside the classroom.

"Nice work, Pete," said James as they walked. "Your transfiguration sure has improved."

"Well, if you can become an Animagus, you can do most things in that area I suppose," replied Peter. James nodded—he didn't look like he was listening too intently; his hands were in his pockets and he watched his shoes as he walked. Peter exhaled wearily. "Prongs, you can't be angry forever."

James looked at him, surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"Things have to get back to normal eventually," Peter continued. "But you're trying to put that off, and it's throwing everyone."

"I really have no idea what you mean," James insisted. "I'm not trying to..."

Peter stopped walking and spoke with unexpected passion: "Moony barely talks to anyone. He's not himself. You don't use the nicknames anymore. You don't care about anything—not even the Quid...Q-word final! We lost to Slytherin and all you did was yell at Bertram Aubrey!" James scowled. "You have to pull yourself together, Prongs, and you have to fix this!"

"I'm not making up with him..."

"I'm not saying that!" replied Peter heatedly. "But, c'mon, we're the Marauders..."

"We're not the Marauders..."

"We are!" James just stared, and Peter went on: "Don't say that the Marauders never existed, because they did! They did, and that's why it's so rotten that Padfoot told Snape! But we really were mates all along... we were! You can't say that we weren't, because before the Marauders... before the Marauders, I was just some scrawny little prat that the Slytherins picked on. You and Sirius adopted me, and no matter what Sirius did later, you can't erase that! We were best mates, and Sirius was your brother, and that happened, and now you need to fix this!"

"You keep saying that, Pete... fine, Wormtail, whatever. You keep saying I need to 'fix this.' What exactly do you think I have to fix?"

"This! Moony... Remus! He's not himself. He's closing up again, like before, when we were kids... you and Sirius were the ones that got him to open up! You have to fix Remus, and you have to fix Gryffindor, and you have to fix everyone else, too!"

"Everyone else?" echoed James. "You want me to fix the whole school?"

"Yes!"

"And how exactly do you propose I do that?"

For the first time, Peter's confidence faltered. "Don't you know?"

James was seriously starting to question his friend's sanity. "Know what?"

"How should I know? I don't know! But you're James Potter! Everyone's looking at you—that's why we lost the Q... bugger, Quidditch final when you were depressed... the team couldn't bloody well hold it together if you weren't in the mood to play, could they?"

"Hey, I scored more points than any other chaser in that..."

"But it didn't help Gryffindor catch the snitch, did it? You're one of the few people that everyone in this school looks to... even the Slytherins, whether they like it or not. But you've done nothing but mope and sulk for weeks, and I sodding hate it! You're James sodding Potter, Prongs, and I wish you'd bloody start acting like it!"

They both just sort of stared at each other for a few seconds. Then, Peter concluded: "I'm going to lunch. Whatever it is that you need to do to be you again... do it." With that, he left.

Stunned, James remained for almost a minute. Peter didn't talk like that... he certainly didn't speak to him like that. Then again, it was possible that maybe Wormtail was right—at least partially.

James entered the Great Hall and sat down between Remus and Peter, who were both eating in silence. He looked between the two, and, rather than serving himself food, addressed the former in a serious tone: "Moony."

Remus glanced up, a little taken aback by the use of the taboo nickname.

James hesitated, then—"Whatever you need... for your... furry little problem... Pete—Wormtail and I are here."

Uncertainty in his grey eyes, Remus nonetheless nodded. "Thank-you."

James half smiled, and Peter looked pleased as he poured himself pumpkin juice.

"Whatever it is that you need to be you again... do it."

There was something else, too. James peered up Gryffindor table, to where Lily Evans sat, talking animatedly with Donna Shacklebolt and Marlene Price. Maybe she wouldn't forgive him... maybe she didn't want anything to do with him... maybe he was permanently and irrevocably out... But maybe not.

And he had to try, right? It was, after all, what James Potter would do.

(Fifth Year, Part Three)

Sixteen-year-old Lily entered the Common Room, surprised to find that she did not feel absolutely terrible anymore.

Mostly terrible, yes, but not absolutely.

Luke Harper—he wasn't a bad bloke, really.

Unfortunately, Lily's reprieve from misery was short lived, for as she walked further inside, the fifth year realized she was not, in fact, alone. On noticing her, James Potter—who had been reclining on the couch—jumped up.

"Evans..."

"Go away," snapped Lily, before he could say anything else. "I'm serious, Potter, you do not want to bother me tonight."

"I only wanted to apologize," James replied; he hopped over the back of the couch to meet her at the bottom of the stairway to the dormitories, characteristically impeding her path. "Honestly, Evans..."

"What do you imagine you could possibly say to make me forgive you?"

"Well, I dunno..." He half grinned. "I'm sorry?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic. Move."

He did move, but only to further block her path as she attempted to circumvent him. "C'mon, Evans," he insisted, "Alright—I could've been nicer..." Lily let out a disbelieving "Ha!" before managing to slip underneath James's outstretched arm and onto the staircase behind him. "But, y'know, I have just as much reason to expect an apology as you do!"

Lily, who was by this time halfway up the steps, halted, turning on James once again. "You must be joking."

Pleased with himself for having triggered a reaction and taking the steps at an easy saunter: "Well, Evans... you weren't very polite, turning me down like that. And the Giant Squid comment was just downright unfriendly."

For several seconds, Lily could do nothing but stare incredulously at the wizard before her. James Potter was an evolutionary improbability, she thought. No one could be that arrogant; no one could be that clueless. And no, his stupid, cheesy grin, strong jaw-line, and glittering hazel eyes did not compensate for that fact.

"You're mad," she informed him, when he had arrived on the stair directly below hers. "You're bloody insane, if you think I am ever going to apologize to you. I realize this is going to be difficult for you to grasp, Potter, but try: I don't like you. And I don't mean that I don't fancy you, which I don't, but I just do not like you one bit. I do not like your inflated ego, or your stupid pranks, or your idiotic so-called wit. I am not impressed by the fact that you're Quidditch Captain, or by your grades, or by the fact that you are a complete and utter git." James didn't look hurt—more annoyed, as she continued: "Do you honestly believe that I care one bit about your stupid offer for a date? That's... that's just incredible, really. I lost my best friend today..."

"Snivellus is a..."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" cried Lily, her hands flying through her hair in exasperation. "He was my best friend—not that you have any idea what that means!—and because of you, I've lost him!"

"Hey, I didn't make him call you—call you that!"

"Mudblood, you mean?" snapped Lily. "No, you didn't—but you're always bullying him, pushing and prodding... never leaving him alone, and then trying to get me just to get under his skin..."

"I don't..."

"Leave it, Potter," she interrupted furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage today?" Then, she turned on her heel and disappeared up the stairwell.

James stayed put for a minute; he was glad that Sirius and Remus and Pete weren't there; he was glad that he was alone in the dimly lit Common Room. For all his talk, ultimately, James Potter was a human being, and—in many respects—human beings are a sensitive lot.

He sat down on the couch by the fire again, crossing his arms and feeling some combination of annoyed and—well, frankly, hurt.

"She's just a bird," Sirius would say. "Seven for a sickle, honestly."

"You were being a bit of a twat," Remus would then contribute, followed by Peter's more encouraging: "Better luck next time, Prongs."

But—James reflected—there would be no next time. No more asking out Lily Evans—no more flirting or provoking or anything. No more Lily Evans. He had made this promise a dozen times previously (and would make it a dozen more times over the next year) but this time he meant it. Really, honestly, completely.

As of that moment, James Potter was off Lily Evans.

The anger, guilt, resentment, and dissatisfaction that merged in his chest, producing an important, compelling ache were enough to convince James that this was the truth... that he was really and honestly done. It would take him more than two months and a punch to Nicolai Mulciber's jaw to make him realize otherwise.

But, of course, you already know about that.

(Present: Gobstones)

Three Marauders sat by Gryffindor Common Room's fireplace. Remus and Peter had books that they were ignoring, and James was toying with the snitch that he had nicked about a century ago. Well, perhaps "toying with" was the wrong phrase; he was holding it, at any rate, pulling at the wings and glaring at the ball as if it had offended him.

That was the scene that Marlene observed when she entered the Common Room from the girls' dormitory and sat casually down in a vacant chair next to Remus's (James and Peter sat on the sofa).

"Hullo," greeted the blond, and they murmured their replies. "So... you lot excited for the summer holidays?"

"Sure," said James.

"Yeah, I suppose," said Peter.

Remus merely shrugged.

"I can see you're in a lovely mood," Marlene went on dryly. "Why are you fighting with Sirius anyway? Everyone's saying different things, and I don't believe any of it." The Marauders looked as though they did not want to discuss it, but Marlene ignored this fact. "Well—when are you going to make up with him for whatever it was?"

She was met with more silence.

"I guess that means you have no immediate plans..."

"When are you going to make up with Adam McKinnon?" Remus countered, eyebrows raised.

"We have made up," she informed them. "Two days ago."

"You couldn't do it earlier?" grumbled James. "He's been in an awful mood."

"Because you lot are just regular rays of sunshine," the blond retorted.

Mary entered the Common Room at that moment. She almost at once took a place on the arm of Marlene's chair. "Hullo, lot," she said, cheerfully enough. "What are you all talking about?"

"Marlene's the loquacious one," said James lightly. "Ask her."

"They're all in bad moods," Marlene told Mary indignantly.

"Nothing new there," replied the brunette. "I blame the Q-word."

"Not a bad guess," James allowed.

"Well, don't let that get to you," Mary continued. "It's our second-to-last night here. I was rather hoping for some kind of prank or something from you before we leave. You're the Marauders, aren't you?"

"No," said Remus.

"Yes," said James.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Boys."

Besides the sullen sixth years by the fire, the Common Room was busy with excitement, as the other Gryffindors chattered happily about their summer plans and their relief over the end of final exams. Carlotta Meloni and Shelley Mumps entered through the portrait hole, arguing.

"Oh, Shell, don't be so negative," Carlotta was saying, relishing her lack of uniform with a skirt that displayed the vast majority of her thin, inexplicably tanned legs and a blouse that did the same for her chest. "Of course Raphael Walker wants to see you tomorrow. It'll be fine."

"He was only polite about the date because you were there," Shelley replied dismally. Carlotta rolled her eyes, then noticed the Marauders and her two roommates by the fire.

"Thank-you for the help in Transfiguration, James," she said, approaching the group. "I would have failed for cert without you."

"No problem."

At the sight of James, Shelley had gone pale white, but Carlotta paid no heed and took a seat on the sofa beside Peter. "Sit down then," she invited to her friend, whose physical awkwardness compared to the nymph-like Carlotta was only heightened by her stiff posture next to the relaxed others'.

"I thought we were going upstairs," Shelley mumbled, with a significant glance at James. The Quidditch Captain was once again enthralled with the snitch, however, and didn't notice.

"We're almost finished packing," Carlotta pointed out. "C'mon, Shell."

Blushing now, Shelley took the chair opposite Mary and made a point of not looking at James Potter.

"So, what are the summer plans?" asked Carlotta. "I'm home through July, then my parents insist on dragging us all to the house on the coast."

"Oh?" said Marlene, faux courteous. "Isn't that where you tried and failed to steal Alice Griffiths' boyfriend last year?"

Carlotta glared, and Peter rolled his eyes. "If you girls are going to bicker..."

"They're not," Mary intervened. "Haven't you two made peace yet?" she added, scowling between her friend and Carlotta. "It's the end of the school year, you know, and we've got a whole new one ahead. The least you could do is stop fighting, for the rest of our sakes. Now—summer plans: that was a good subject. I am going to help out in my parents' store. Shelley?"

"Oh, I don't know," sighed Shelley. "I think my mum wants to go to Venice. She's Italian, you know."

"Well that should be lovely," said Mary, determined to keep the conversation going. "Remus?"

"No plans," he sighed. They were quiet, and then Peter spoke up to alleviate the discomfort of the silence.

"I'm staying at James's for a bit, aren't I?"

"Yeah," replied the Quidditch Captain. "Of course. But I think we'll be at Godric's Hallow for the first few weeks, so you might be a bit bored."

"What's Godric's Hallow?" Marlene wanted to know.

"The parents' country house," said James. "There's not much to the town though."

"You have a country house?" Mary asked. "How many houses do you have?"

James shrugged. "Three or four. There's the main one, the flat in London, Godric's Hallow, the place on the coast..."

"Oh, the one you lent to the Longbottoms last season?" asked Carlotta. "Oh, shut up, Marlene."

"I didn't say anything!"

"I saw your face—you were thinking it."

"Thinking is a crime now?" asked Marlene. "No wonder you've never been arrested, Car."

"No fighting!" Mary reminded them. "Honestly, you two." She then glanced resentfully at the three, relatively quiet Marauders. "Why is it that the boys seem considerably less into this than the girls?"

"In my experience, it's the reverse," muttered Marlene, and Carlotta snorted appreciatively.

"Progress," sighed Mary happily. Adam McKinnon came downstairs, dressed in pajamas and carrying a small wooden box.

"To whom does this Gobstones set belong?" he asked. "Because everything is packed up or accounted for in the dormitory, and this was just sitting on the desk. Are they Sirius's?"

"He doesn't own a Gobstones set," James said. "I think we borrowed those from someone."

"We ought to return them," Remus noted. "Who did we borrow them from?"

"Frank Longbottom?" Peter suggested.

James shook his head. "That was a chess set."

"Roger Diggory?" Remus guessed.

James frowned. "Who's Roger Diggory again?"

"Y'know—Hufflepuff... used to play Quidditch but stopped so he could 'focus on his studies.'" Still, the Quidditch Captain looked puzzled. Remus rolled his eyes. "Flatface."

"Oi, Flatface!" said James, recollection in his hazel eyes. The girls laughed. "Yeah, I remember. But no, we didn't borrow those from Flatface. I borrowed some broom polish from him once... I don't think he likes me very much."

"Maybe it's because you used all the broom polish," said Peter.

"Maybe it's because you call him 'Flatface,'" said Marlene.

Even James could not suppress his amusement there. "He has very flat features!"

"You're just jealous of his perfect hair," said Mary. "Y'know, I think I snogged him once."

"Me too," said Carlotta automatically. They looked at each other, and a brief but rather awkward silence followed. Adam put the Gobstones on the low table between the sofa and the fireplace, and then sat down himself on the floor.

"Well this is uncomfortable," he pointed out conversationally. The boys, Marlene, and Shelley smiled, but Carlotta shuddered.

"New topic," suggested Mary.

Lily and Donna, the last of the Gryffindor sixth years except Sirius, appeared on the staircase from the girls' dormitory, wearing dressing gowns and both carrying several items. Lily held two records, while Donna carried several books, all of which they presented to Remus.

"All the things we borrowed from you," Lily explained.

"When did I lend you The Wailing Wailers?" asked the Marauder, looking over one of the albums Lily had given him. The redhead winced.

"Maybe October?"

"Nice."

"Sorry."

"These are all the books I've borrowed for exams this week," Donna informed Remus, setting the stack on the end table. "I think you'll find there are none missing, but in case you believe otherwise, I have the list that you signed and approved on Monday." She pulled out a slip of parchment from the pocket of her dressing gown and handed it to Remus. "That is your signature, but I can do a verification charm, if…"

"It's fine, Donna," said Remus. "I only signed that because you kept insisting on it."

"I like to be thorough," she replied defensively.

Lily had taken a seat on the floor next to Adam and was drumming her fingers against the mysterious Gobstones box. "Were you going to play? I happen to be a Gobstones expert."

"No, they were in our dorm," said Adam. "We were trying to figure out whose set it is."

Lily examined the box, while Donna sat down beside her.

"Maybe we borrowed them from Liam Lyle," suggested Peter. "I really think we did."

"Who?" asked James.

Remus sighed. "'Happy Hair,'" he said, resigned. James nodded in recognition.

"Good old Happy Hair."

Lily looked at the others. "Do I want to know?"

"No," said Remus. "Maybe it was Malcolm Davies. Or, if you speak James, Ravengit."

"No, it wasn't Ravengit," said Lily.

"How do you know?" asked Peter curiously.

"I can just tell. The aura of the box is not that of a Ravenclaw. They're definitely Gryffindor Gobstones. In fact..." She closed her eyes dramatically and held her hands over the game. "I would say that these belong to... Damacus Weasley."

"Oi, that's right!" said James, remembering. "Yeah, we borrowed those from him because Si... someone accidentally blew up my set while practicing a new hex."

"But how did you know?" Carlotta asked of Lily.

"I am very powerful."

They all looked at her skeptically, and Lily held the box upside-down for them all to see. "Damacus Weasley" was carved distinctly in the wood.

"Actually, I can I read," she said dryly. "Well, c'mon then; who wants to play me?"

Adam shrugged. "I will."

"Me, too," agreed Mary. She slid of the arm of Marlene's chair to the floor, scooting closer to the table.

"I'm in," said Marlene, and Carlotta sat down at her side of the table as well.

"Why not?" said the brunette with a shrug. "Come on then, Shelley."

Shelley obediently followed.

"Remus? Peter?" Lily invited, pointedly ignoring James. Peter agreed, but Remus looked reluctant.

"I'm not in the mood for a game," he said. He looked rather pale, too.

"Come on. One game," coaxed Carlotta. "James, you too."

Donna scooted closer to the table. "As long as everyone else is playing, I suppose..."

James cast an awkward glance in Lily's direction, but she was occupied with setting up the game and didn't seem to notice. He moved to the edge of the couch, close enough to partake in the match.

"I'm going to win, you know," declared Donna matter-of-factly. "Really, I always do."

"You do not," argued Lily.

"Let's just hope you play better than you did in the Q-word final," chanted Marlene. Donna scowled, but most of the others laughed.

"I'll go first," said Peter. "No one ever gets sprayed on the first turn..."

One hour, three games of Gobstones, and two trips up to the boys' dormitory for sweets later, there had been little or no uncomfortable incident. Enough people played the game that Lily did not have to directly speak to or interact with James, and even Marlene and Carlotta managed not to fight. Actually, things were going quite well, until, around eight thirty, the portrait hole opened and admitted the last Gryffindor sixth year.

Sirius glanced at the group, but made quickly for the dormitory staircase. Lily looked from Remus to Peter to James, and then decided that she just didn't care.

"Sirius!"

Everyone looked at her.

"Gobstones tournament. Want to play?"

"Lily," muttered Remus.

"It won't be all of us if he doesn't play," retorted Lily in an undertone. In a louder voice, to Sirius, she added: "We're halfway through this game—you can be on my team. I've won once already."

Sirius hesitated, then shook his head. "No, thanks. I was actually just going to go grab some things I left in the..."

"Rubbish, come on," spoke up Marlene. "Don't play on Lily's team, though. She's doing horribly this round."

"Not that badly..."

"You haven't knocked one out of the ring yet!"

"Come on, Sirius," Carlotta added. "You might as well play. To celebrate the end of finals and all that!"

"Three attractive girls have asked you," Mary continued. "It would just be suspicious if you declined now."

James kept his expression utterly neutral as Sirius sat down on the floor, between Donna and Lily.

"Wonderful," said Carlotta. "If only we had butterbeer..."

"Right?" agreed Lily. "I was just thinking that." She dodged an assault from the Gobstones, but not before a bit of the green gunk landed in her hair. "I don't think that counts..."

"Of course it counts," smirked Remus. "You're out, Evans."

"But girls have more hair than blokes! It's an unfair advantage!"

"Sore loser," said Marlene. "Donna's turn. Go..."

---

"Two galleons says Peter gets hit next," said James, throwing the money on the table.

"Carlotta just got hit," argued Adam. "There's no way..."

"Seriously," agreed Mary, but at that moment, the stones emitted their green acid, and Peter Pettigrew could not dodge it quickly enough.

"God, Potter," Adam complained good naturedly; "You're too damn lucky." He tossed James his money.

"Never bet against me," said James with a grin. He took one of his Gobstones and made his throw at another in the game's ring, successfully knocking it out.

"Damn it," swore Lily, who—with James and Remus—was among the few left in the game. "That's six for Potter, is it?"

"Right," said Carlotta. She placed three galleons on a bare spot of the table. "I'm on James for the win."

"Nah, it's Lily," argued Sirius. "She's only one down, and Potter always stutters for his seventh stone." James pretended he didn't hear.

"I'm going with Lily, too," said Donna, placing her money in the pool. "Five in a row is a streak to bet on."

"I love you, Lily, but I'm betting on James," said Mary.

"I like an underdog—three for Lupin," said Adam. He added his money. It was Lily's turn, and she knocked her sixth stone out of the ring. Remus followed, successfully gaining his sixth Gobstone as well. As he did so, the stones sprayed their foul smelling acid, but Remus managed to duck under the table before any actually hit him.

"Nice one, mate," said James. He aimed his stone carefully and then threw, and while it did strike one of the few rocks remaining in the ring, the Gobstone merely rolled to the perimeter, not escaping the circle. "Damn it."

"Told you," Sirius whispered to Carlotta.

It was Lily's turn again; she held her thrower in her hands as though it were a pair of die, but as she prepared to toss it into the ring, the stones once again struck, spewing the acid in her direction. Lily ducked and successfully evaded the liquid, but her turn was forfeited.

Remus prepared for his throw; he aimed carefully, turned the Gobstone over between his fingers, and then—

"Yes!" cried Adam, punching the air. "Thank-you, Remus Lupin!"

The others groaned, as Adam collected his winnings, and Remus grinned at his small victory.

"Good job, mate," James congratulated, leaning back against the couch (he had relocated to the floor three games ago). "Wasn't I right about the blue stones? They're the best for throwing."

Shelley stretched and yawned, and it suddenly occurred to the sixth years that it was getting late. The Common Room was dark, except for the fire, and everyone else had gone to bed.

"I should be going," said Sirius, getting to his feet. "See you tomorrow, everyone."

The other sixth years—with the exception of James and Remus, who determinedly looked away—bid Sirius goodnight, and, with an unreturned glance at his two former friends, he slouched out through the portrait hole.

"We really ought to go to bed," Lily observed slowly. "It's rather late..." There was a moment of silence, and then... "One more game?"

"I'm in," said Mary, straightening up.

"Me too," said Adam.

"Yeah, I'm game," said James.

"I've got to defend the title, I suppose," agreed Remus.

Everyone gathered close around the table, and Lily reset the circle.

Donna was the next person to depart for her dormitory, leaving immediately after the next match had finished. Peter went off to bed a quarter of an hour later, then Mary, Carlotta, and Shelley, and then Adam. Marlene won the last match, and, yawning, she got unsteadily to her feet.

"I'm beat," she announced. "See you in the morning, Lily. 'Night, James." With that, the blonde trudged up to the stairway to the dormitories. Lily put the Gobstones back in Damacus Weasley's box, and slowly rose herself. She dimly toyed with the idea of saying 'Goodnight' (or maybe something else) to James, but then decided against it and started for her room.

"Listen, Lily..." James began suddenly. She rounded on him. "I just..." He hesitated, and Lily interrupted.

"It's late," she muttered. "I should get some sleep." Then she turned and was gone.

(How it Goes With James Again)

Perhaps fantastically, given the insane number of distractions presented to them, the sixth years all passed their finals. Lily's Ancient Runes grade was not as high as she might have liked, and Donna swore that Professor McGonagall had a vendetta against her, but, all in all, the last day at Hogwarts was not quite as awful as it might have been.

The farewell feast was delicious, as it typically was, and Slytherin, aided by their victory in the Quidditch Cup, won the house cup as well. Gryffindor came in third, but only because Cassidy Gamp's assault on Donna had damaged Hufflepuff's standing beyond repair.

Though she procrastinated as long as she could, Lily finally finished the last of her packing that evening and spent the majority of the night with her friends in her dormitory. Having stayed up so late the night before, most of the girls turned in early, but Lily wasn't tired—or she couldn't sleep, at any rate—and, taking the only book that she hadn't already packed away, the prefect headed down to the by then empty Common Room. At a few minutes past eleven, however, Lily's solitude was disturbed.

"Would it make any difference if I apologized?"

James Potter—in flannel pajama trousers and a Puddlemore United t-shirt that ought to have been looser—walked towards her and managed to look apologetic and apathetic at the same time.

"Depends," replied Lily, returning to her book after a brief once-over. "Do you give me permission to impale your foot with a sharp object? I think that would make a difference."

Sighing, James dropped onto the sofa beside her. "I'm sorry," he said with enough sincerity that Lily looked up. "I shouldn't have said the things I said."

As tired as she was—of everything—Lily was not about to accept that. "Is that it? You should write cards. You could call them Non-Guilt Accepting Apologies by James."

"I'm accepting guilt," replied James steadily. "I meant what I said, but I shouldn't have said it."

"Ineffective Non-Guilt Accepting Apologies by James."

James didn't reply. He just sat there for a long time, looking at his hands. Lily was about to ask him to leave (or demand it, anyway), when he asked: "What are you reading?"

"A book."

"What book?"

"This one."

He snorted. With his arm slung over the back of the couch, James leaned over to read the title, and in the process, his hair—wet from his shower—grazed against Lily's face. She pulled away from the scent of shampoo (fresh and agreeable as it was) and made a face as though smelling something unpleasant.

"Move over. You're getting me wet," she accused, and James snorted again. "Oh, shut up."

James complied in one respect; he leaned back. "Emma?" he asked, in reference to the book title. "Never heard of it."

"It's muggle," Lily informed him. "It's the only book not stored at the bottom of my trunk at the moment, and I felt like reading."

"Of course you did," James muttered. "Well, what's it about then?"

Resigned to the fact that James—with his stupid shirt and his stupid hair—was not going anywhere, Lily responded after brief deliberation: "It's about a girl that gets everything wrong."

"Better than a girl that gets everything right, I suppose."

"Well, who wants to read that?" More uncomfortable, shampoo-scented silence, then: "You haven't accepted my apology yet."

"You haven't made an apology worth accepting yet."

"Fair enough."

...

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, are you going to apologize better?"

"No."

Lily scowled. "Are you going to leave me alone with my book?"

"No."

"Are you going to go upstairs and get me some of the sweets I know you must have stored away somewhere, so that at least your presence is moderately more tolerable?"

James grinned. "I'll be right back."

"Don't rush."

The Quidditch Captain disappeared up the stairwell, and Lily tried unsuccessfully to return to her novel. Then, the portrait hole opened, admitting Shelley Mumps.

"Hey, Shell," greeted Lily, a little confused by the witch's late arrival. "Where were you?"

"You're not going to deduct points, are you?" asked Shelley anxiously. Lily promised she wouldn't—not bothering to point out that deductions would be rather meaningless at the stage in the year. "I fell asleep in the library," Shelley explained, trudging across the Common Room dismally. "I was supposed to meet someone, but they didn't show."

"Who?" Lily wanted to know.

"A boy. Raphael Walker."

"That cute seventh year? Way to go, Shelley."

Shelley shrugged. "Not really. Like I said—he didn't show. Carlotta tried to fix it up... he probably thought she would be there, and when he saw she that wasn't, turned around and left."

"I'm sure that's not it," said Lily, shaking her head resolutely. "Y'know, he's a seventh year—it's his last day. He probably got busy with getting ready for his sending up." Shelley only shrugged again, clearly unconvinced. "Don't worry about it, Shell," Lily consoled. "Blokes at Hogwarts aren't worth your time."

"Some of them are," replied Shelley a bit wistfully.

As if to prove a point, James appeared on the staircase again, this time with a brown paper bag of something that Lily hoped were Jelly Slugs. He took the steps two at a time, and Shelley suddenly looked as though she had swallowed a real slug.

"As per your request," said James to Lily, tossing the bag onto the coffee table and resuming his old seat. "Hullo, Michelle. Want one? Jelly Slugs, you know."

Lily repressed a smile at the choice of candy, and Shelley grew pale. She shook her head.

"Why don't you join us?" Lily offered, grateful for the opportunity of putting a buffer between herself and James's shampoo. (Agrippa—what was wrong with her tonight?) "Potter was just telling me about his new greeting card line and refusing to leave a girl in peace."

Shelley shook her head again.

"You sure?" asked James. "Evans might enjoy having someone to speak politely to, since she's morally obliged to hurl only insults at me."

"You're lucky that's all I'm hurling at you," Lily replied lightly.

They both made faces, and Shelley managed to squeak: "No, thank-you. Good night," before trotting upstairs to the girls' dormitory. Lily picked up the bag of sweets and selected a bright blue slug.

"Michelle?" she quoted derisively. "Really, Potter?"

"What? That's her name."

"If you're reading her name for the Sorting Ceremony, it is. Everyone calls her 'Shelley.'"

"How do you know 'Michelle' isn't my nickname for her?"

"Your nickname for her is her real name? Imaginative."

"It's ironic."

"It really isn't."

"Well, I don't really talk to Michelle... er... Shelley that much. I don't think she likes me... she's always really quiet and glare-y when I'm around."

Lily bit a new slug in half. "You really do amaze me sometimes, Potter," she said, sighing and shaking her head. "And not in a good way."

"You know, I just brought sweets. You have to be nice to me."

"After everything you said the other night, I don't have to be nice. I'm not sure I even have to be humane." When James gave no witty reply, Lily looked up at him from her book. He was watching at her, evidently bothered. "What?"

"I really hurt your feelings, didn't I?" he asked quietly.

Surprised, Lily debated several answers, and then decided to show mercy. "I'll survive," she said. "And the Jelly Slugs help." She offered him the bag, and James picked out a neon pink sweet.

"Alright, Evans, don't go easy on me."

"I had no intention of it."

"You're right, too. My apology was rubbish. Would it make a difference if I tried again?"

She considered it. "Give her a shot. I doubt it will hurt your chances."

"I'm sorry," said James again. "Really sorry. And I did mean some of what I said, but I shouldn't have said it."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that the exact same apology you made before?"

"Let me finish."

"Fine."

"I know that you didn't—you didn't try to manipulate me into helping you get to Hogsmeade." Lily's expression changed (softened) at the bluntness of this statement. "And I know you didn't use Luke, and I shouldn't have yelled at you. But I did mean what I said about Snape."

He watched her carefully, probably attempting to gauge her reaction, but Lily sat very still and did not speak at once. Finally, she replied: "So did I." Neither knew what else to say, and to fill the silence, Lily ate another Jelly Slug.

"I heard the two of you fought again," James began again at length.

Lily nodded. "You were right about one thing—I did lose him anyway. Sev and I haven't... we haven't honestly been friends for a long time. We were... we were just pretending."

"I'm sorry."

She looked at him doubtfully. "You hate Snape."

"Yeah, I do," he allowed. "But you don't, so... I'm sorry."

Lily took a long time to say what she felt she needed to say next; "I didn't always turn you down because of Snape. Really and truly, I didn't." She met his stare with determination. "But he was always... he was always so upset about the way you asked me out. Honestly, I thought that's why you did it in the first place."

"But..."

"I let you finish, Potter."

"Fine."

"The truth is—I would have said 'no' anyway... but sometimes, I was—I was a little more... um... vehement than I might otherwise have been..." She hesitated, and then plunged, because, after all, they had already said everything else, hadn't they? "And that was because of Snape. Because I wanted to assuage his doubts, I suppose. Anyway that was part of it... the other part being that you just kind of drove me mad."

James smiled down at his hands. Lily bit her lip.

"What I'm trying to say," she went on, "is—apology accepted."

He looked up at her. "Even though it was lame?"

She shrugged. "The Jelly Slugs helped."

James once again summoned his courage, and so—fidgeting with the hem of his Puddlemore United shirt—he pressed on: "I haven't been very nice to you this year... most of the time."

"I had a few less than stellar moments myself."

"Yeah, but I was worse. I mean..." He snorted, "I punched Mulciber, let you take the fall, and then got angry with you for doing it."

It seemed so long ago; the recollection no longer bothered or annoyed Lily. It was almost funny, actually.

"There's a reason for that," James continued. "There's a reason I've been a bit more of a git this year." Lily waited expectantly. "I was trying to get over you."

Lily suddenly felt as though she'd had the wind knocked out of her. Merlin, that boy could just say anything he was thinking, couldn't he? She felt a blush creep up in her cheeks, but managed to ask: "And did you?"

Long, tense nothingness, and then—"Yeah."

Lily breathed again. "Okay."

James considered the redhead beside him carefully—in her thin green t-shirt and baggy pajama trousers, with her ginger hair pulled up sloppily at the back of her head and her skin tinted in the firelight.

"You've changed," she said, as though reading his thoughts.

"So have you," he replied.

Lily nodded slowly, not debating it as he had expected. "It's been a long year," she said. "Not always a very good one, either."

"No," he agreed. "Not at all."

She wondered what he was thinking about—probably Sirius. "Next year will be better," she told him.

"You can't know that."

"How could it be worse?"

James smirked. "You might be right about that. Still..."

"Still? Still what?"

"I dunno. I'm just—just wondering if there's any point to coming back next year. You don't need to take N.E.W.T.s to play Quidditch, and anyway, I'm loaded, so it's not as though I'll be hard up to find a job if I don't play."

"You have to come back next year!" protested Lily, appalled. James arched his eyebrows. "How can you even consider that?" she went on. "It's Hogwarts. You love it here."

He shrugged. "Everything here is—Sirius. Five beds in the dormitory... every secret passageway in the school, we found with Sirius. Even the map—it says Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. I met him on my first day, and we've spent every day here together ever since. I just—I dunno, right now. I just want to be away from that."

"But you have to come back," Lily maintained. "Honestly, Potter, it's... it's Hogwarts! And it's been a rotten year, but... but... but Hogwarts has to redeem itself!"

"Redeem itself?" inquired the amused Quidditch Captain.

"Yes!" she continued, impassioned. "This year... Professor Black dying, Luke, Logan Harper, Roland Urquhart hanging that pureblood propaganda... Carlotta and Adam at the beginning of the year... Marlene's attack, Mary's... losing the Quidditch Cup to Slytherin... your fight with Sirius, mine with Donna, Sev... James, it's been a bloody lousy year! And if you leave now, then this year—from Mulciber to Sirius—is going to be your last! You don't want that, do you? If you don't come back and have a seventh year, all your memories of Hogwarts will be tarnished; all the good ones won't matter as much! You have to come back and try for a better year..." James looked at her oddly. He did not answer at once, and Lily chewed her lip. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Slowly, he began to smile. "You might be."

Lily matched his expression. "Of course I am."

James shook his head. "Listen, at the risk of tempting fate..."

"Friends?" she interrupted. He nodded.

"Right."

"Friends," the redhead agreed. "And about time, too."

James leaned back on the couch, propping his legs up on the table they had played Gobstones on the evening before. "What a way to end a year, yeah?"

"Yeah."

A briefer, more comfortable quiet followed, and then James grabbed the book from Lily's lap. "So tell me about this Emma character. Is she fit?"

Lily just laughed.

It was a few hours later—nearly one o'clock in the morning—before they actually ended up going to bed. James walked with Lily up the stair, until they came to the landing that split off towards the girls' and boys' dorms respectively.

"Goodnight, then, I guess," said James.

"Goodnight," replied Lily.

They looked at one another for a very long, lingering moment. Lily wondered only vaguely whether or not she would see anything of him over the summer holidays, for her brain suddenly seemed to have gone soft... soft and silent.

Of course, she had no way of knowing exactly what the next few months would bring. She could not have known about the protest, or about Sam, or that she would be attending not one, but two weddings... She could not have known that before she boarded the Hogwarts Express again for her seventh year, she would experience the strangest thirty-six hour period of her life to date, which would end in James Potter's arms.

No, indeed, she knew none of this so, and so, with a last smile, she said: "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Reckon so," agreed James. And they went their separate ways.

It was only as she crawled into bed with an odd, warm feeling in her stomach, that Lily realized something important—it was not, as she had thought, that there was nothing left to say with James, after all. It was that there was nothing left that could not be said.

---

A/N: I have no idea how Gobstones is played—I took my vague recollections from the books, added the slight information provided by hp-lexicon and a Google search, and made up the rest. If this is completely wrong, I'm sorry, but I did my best =P.

So, I'm trying to work in a Remus centric chapter—he'll feature heavily in the next chapter, but I'm not sure if that's going to be "his" or not. At the moment, Chapter 24 is tentatively called "Contra Mundum." Some nice Lily/James there, and a cameo by a canon character that I always liked, despite her underdevelopment.

Thank you to the fantastic anonymous reviewers: RosethornEverlasting (Gracias! Anything I can do to encourage poor behavior in Math class...), Ahhreelmonsters (thanks so much. Yes, the Marauders might take some time to heal... also, James, Remus, and Peter might arrive at forgiveness at different times), I Have a Faerie Ring (I wish you many, many strawberry banana smoothies. So glad you read, reviewed, and enjoyed!), anonymous (long chapters? Okay. This one was 66 pages), thatchesirecat (some Lily and James happiness here! And more to come), Underbabe (Thanks! Goodness, I really try with the UK speak and ANY tips are greatly appreciated, though at a certain point I just have to accept that I'm writing several cultures removed from these characters: they're "wizards," in a different country, thirty-five years ago...), Madeline (Aw, thank-you! Hope you liked the update =D), popcorn (why, thank-you), readerrr (I'm glad you decided to read this, despite its incomplete nature; Lily and James's relationship is just kind of getting off the ground now, so it will move at a reasonably quicker pace from here on out; the summer holidays bring good things for them), and Nix (though I loathe digging around for my HP books, I've found that I really enjoy re-writing canon scenes... well, I'm not really re-writing, so much as elaborating; it's a lot of fun to allow the things that JKR expounds upon speak for themselves, and then explore the emotions behind the things that JKR allows to speak for themselves. It's just fun).

I didn't reply to all the logged in reviewers, because if I had, there would be no way for me to update today, and I really wanted to. But I love and appreciate all of you =).

Reviews are whipped cream.

Cheers,

Jules