A/N: This is easily the most ambitious chapter I've ever attempted with regards to structure. There are five parts retelling the same day from five different points of view. Why did I decide to do it this way? I'll tell you at the end.

Disclaimer: Copyright Jo Ro.

Recap: James and Lily almost kiss, but Lily rejects him and he starts dating Carlotta Meloni. Carlotta Meloni, however, is best friends with plain and awkward Shelley Mumps, who has had a crush on James since forever. Last year, Donna hooked up with a guy named Charlie Plex, who is sketchy overall, and he had a girlfriend at the time named Cassidy Gamp. Mary is dating a Ravenclaw named Stebbins, and the two are in love. Marlene's best friend Adam confessed his love to her and was rejected, so Adam started dating a girl named Prudence Bloody Daly, prompting Marlene to realize that she does have feelings for Adam.

Chapter 30- "The Worst Day Ever"

Or

"It's My Party"

(Preamble)

At last, it was time to let go, and Lily pulled away from her mother's embrace, allowing Mrs. Evans to take in a final look at her young daughter.

"I'm going to miss you, Lily Marie," she said warmly.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

"Write often?"

"I always do."

"I love you."

"I always do that, too."

Mrs. Evans smiled. "I think it's going to be a good year for you, Lily."

The redhead nodded. "Yeah. I hope so."

"Bye."

"Goodbye."

Lily kissed her mother's cheek one more time, and then stepped back. With a firm grip on the handle of her trunk (which was tied to both Ira the cat's cage and Lily's owl's cage), she closed her eyes and apparated.

Part I: Carlotta

"It Began With a Kiss"

Carlotta Meloni knew no fear.

On September the first, she apparated to Kings Cross Station for the first time by herself, and without hesitation—without silly doubts—she stepped confidently through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. The platform was already crowded when she arrived on the other side, but as she pulled the trolley along, her eyes scanned the swarms of classmates and their family members in search of one individual.

Her boyfriend.

It sounded so odd. She'd had many boyfriends throughout the years, but she had never had a... well... a proper one. She had been careful to make sure that every boy knew that they were one among many... that she was not attached. But now—with James—she was going to try something knew.

Monogamy.

Her boyfriend.

Carlotta spotted him near the Hogwarts Express, chatting with his best mate about something or other.

Merlin, he was handsome.

She started towards him, almost tripping over a younger witch—probably second or third year—who was skipping across the platform, changing in an obnoxious voice, "Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" With that potential disaster averted, Carlotta walked up to her boyfriend, acknowledged Sirius's dry greeting with a nod, and then stood on her toes to kiss James on the lips.

When they broke apart, James grinned. "Hello to you, too."

"Are we a public-display type of couple?" Carlotta wanted to know. James scoffed.

"We're seventeen. Of course we're a public display type of couple."

Carlotta frowned. "Are all seventeen-year-old couples public-display types?"

"Sure. Aren't they?"

"I don't know. I asked you."

James grinned, Carlotta rolled her eyes, smiling anyway, and she turned to her boyfriend's best friend. "How are you, Sirius?"

"Good. I'm good. Great actually. And—um—I'm gonna... go find Remus or... something. Carlotta, Prongs." He hopped on board the train, and Carlotta looked confusedly to James.

"What's with him?"

"Ignore him; he's probably stoned."

"Really?"

"I don't know."

Carlotta shook her head, sighing, and leaning into James. She ran her hands over the front of his t-shirt thoughtfully. "There's so much I have yet to learn about you Marauders," she said. "I have a feeling it is going to be very interesting."

"Not really," said James. "Most of our mystique, I hear, is just smoke and mirrors."

"Smoke and mirrors?"

"Illusory."

Carlotta smiled with satisfaction. "Good. It wouldn't be any fun if it were actually mysterious." She reached up to kiss him again, and, though she would never have admitted it, went a little weak at the knees when he reciprocated.

(10:20 a.m.)

"Or, I could go with you."

"Or you could wait here."

"Or I could go with you."

"Or...or... or you could stay here."

Carlotta rolled her eyes and grabbed James's hand, dragging him from the compartment they had just nominated as their own into the corridor.

"I don't see why you want to go to the Prefect Compartment," James muttered, complying nonetheless. "It's a lot of stuffy old prefects, most of whom you don't even like, and I'm sure you won't have the slightest interest in the meeting..."

"Don't be an idiot—I don't want to stay for the meeting, Merlin help me," replied the brunette. "I just want to announce to the world that I am a spoken for woman."

"Spoken for? By whom?"

"You, prat."

"Really? I signed up for that, did I?"

"Oh, yes, and you're quite lucky to have done it, too."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She had been walking just slightly ahead of him, as that was what the narrowness of the corridor permitted, but Carlotta now stepped to impede his path altogether; she draped her arms over his shoulders, as she had done on the platform. "There aren't many girls like me, you know."

"No?"

"Not one that I've met."

"Well, that I'll believe."

"So there are some things you should know."

James arched an eyebrow.

"I get up early to meditate."

He looked a little relieved. "I like to run in the morning."

"I don't want you to get me flowers."

"I never intended to."

"I don't eat meat."

"I remember."

"But I won't glare at you if you do eat it."

"And I do."

"I don't like lies."

"Duly noted."

"I don't intend on telling any, and you'd better not either."

"But what if you don't catch me?"

"Is that a joke?"

"Yes."

"Warn me next time."

"But where's the fun in that?"

Carlotta smirked. "There's just one other rule."

"I never was very good with rules..."

"You'll like this one."

"Mmm?"

"At least once a day, we have to..."

The compartment door immediately next to them slid open. "Hello, children," cut in Sirius, who now leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. Remus stood just behind him, and Peter leaned against the opposite side of the threshold. "Not getting into trouble, are we?" Sirius went on, smirking.

"You've been in there that whole time?" asked Carlotta, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course, we stop in front of the compartment where my idiot friends are lurking," muttered James, rolling his eyes. Carlotta disengaged herself.

"Hello Remus, Peter... hello again, Sirius."

"Hi, Carlotta," said Remus politely.

"Hullo," said Peter.

"So," said Sirius. "This is cozy. What are we all doing?"

"Go away," ordered James.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Padfoot..."

"You're not my mother. Or father. That I know of. Wait... are you?"

"Padfoot, go."

"Actually," interrupted Remus, "we do have a valid reason for being here. I have to go to the prefects' meeting."

"And Peter and I must escort him. Isn't that right, Peter?"

"That's right, Sirius."

They all grinned at James.

"Your mates don't have your best interests at heart, James," teased Carlotta.

"They're not my mates. They just follow me around."

The other three Marauders did, indeed, follow James and Carlotta to the Prefects' compartment, at which point James kissed Carlotta on the cheek and promised to find her later.

"Oh, I'm going in."

"You don't have to do that."

"But I'm going to."

James looked at Sirius and Peter.

"Oh, we're going in, too," said Sirius.

"Undoubtedly," agreed Peter.

"Fantastic," said Remus. "Shall we?" He slid open the door.

The prefects' compartment was magnified so that they could all fit inside for the meeting, and, since only the Head Girl, three Ravenclaws, and two Hufflepuffs had so far shown up, the additional Marauders and Carlotta had little trouble fitting inside the compartment.

Lily was seated in the corner, reading what looked like a letter, several pages long, when they entered. She looked up and smiled.

"Hello again, Lily," greeted Remus affectionately. "Congratulations, by the way—I don't know if I've said that yet..."

"You have. Twice, actually," replied Lily, getting to her feet. "Peter... James... Carlotta..." she added, with no hint of surprise in her voice or expression. "Sirius—Dumbledore hasn't gone completely mad and made you a prefect too, has he?"

"Fortunately not," said Sirius. "I'm just visiting. Hello, ladies..." He added to the two female Ravenclaws present, and one of them—the fifth year—blushed.

Lily made some teasing censure of him, but Carlotta paid little heed to this. She was, unconsciously at first, evaluating the Head Girl. James had told her that Lily had the position previously, of course, but he hadn't thought it would be a problem, and so Carlotta was determined to be thoroughly easy-going. She would not be a jealous girlfriend—she would not be a cliché.

Okay, maybe just a little.

She took James's hand and leaned against his shoulder, while Lily continued her bantering with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. The redhead didn't notice until Sirius pointed out that Lily was not wearing her Head Girl badge, and she glanced about for the item in question. Then, as Lily located her bag, her eyes flickered towards James and Carlotta and, for the shortest of seconds, Carlotta thought she noticed Lily's eyebrows lift infinitesimally.

Everyone else noticed, too.

"We're dating," James blurted out suddenly, and Carlotta—who was not the blushing type—felt the heat rise in her face.

There was about half a second of awkwardness, and then Lily smiled brightly.

"Cool." With that, the Head Girl started to rummage about in her bag for her badge. Everyone, including the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, stared at her.

"Cool?" echoed Carlotta automatically.

"Cool," agreed Lily, not removing her eyes from the task at hand.

James and Carlotta exchanged looks, and then returned their stares to Lily. She did not notice at first, but when she located her badge and glanced up again, it was appallingly obvious that everyone was waiting for a somewhat more interest reaction.

"You want a blue ribbon or something?" she asked cheerfully.

Carlotta was not quite reassured. "I guess we were expecting a little more..." She searched for the word: "...surprise?"

"Surprise?" Lily lightly repeated—she was now pinning her badge to the front of her blouse. "That you two crazy kids found each other? Not at all." At length, she finished with the badge, but the others—Carlotta included—still accosted her with blank stares. It took the simultaneous entrance of three more prefects to break the trance, and since Carlotta had one slept with one of those prefects and made out with another, she decided it might be in her best interest to escape now.

"Well..." She turned to James. "I guess everything's okay here."

"I guess so."

"Right."

She made a point of standing on her toes to kiss James on the lips before she left.

"Oi, Carlotta!"

The witch stopped at the sound of her name, hollered from within one of the compartments on her way back from the prefect compartment.

It was Mary MacDonald who had called her, and she sat inside with her usual group (sans Lily Evans, of course). Donna Shacklebolt did not so much as glance up from the book she was reading, and Marlene Price scowled at Carlotta's entrance, but Mary smiled cheerfully at her. Carlotta knew better than to suspect that Mary was actually excited to see her—rather, she probably wanted something.

"Hullo," Carlotta greeted nonetheless, leaning against the doorframe. "Had a nice holiday, did you?"

"Wonderful," replied Mary; "But so did you, I hear."

Of course, Mary would already know about James; she was intolerably silly, but Mary always knew all the gossip, and they hadn't exactly been private on the platform. Still, it was somewhat disconcerting that news traveled so quickly at this school.

"Yes, yes," said Carlotta vaguely. "I couldn't be happier."

"Oh?" And it was Marlene who spoke this time. "Surprising, isn't it? That you can be happy with just one bloke..."

"Not so surprising," Carlotta retorted, "so long as the bloke is as satisfied as you are." She watched with somewhat fiendish pleasure as Marlene's expression grew dark. Rather then continue the conversation, Carlotta hastily added: "I was hoping to find Shelley. You haven't seen her, have you?"

Mary looked at bit disconcerted; she bit her lip rather then answer. Donna actually tore herself away from her book, and Marlene's frown vanished. There was something smug in her tone, when she responded: "Have you?"

"Have I seen Shelley? No. Why?"

Carlotta could have sworn that Marlene and Donna exchanged knowing looks before the latter turned back to the large, leather bound volume in hand, simultaneously replying: "She's got a tan. I'm still darker, though."

"I have no idea what that means," said Carlotta.

"Shame, that," said Marlene. Mary seemed anxious. "Shelley didn't tell us where she was going, but I'm sure you'll run into her sooner or later." And Carlotta left the compartment rather the more confused for the visit.

She still mulled over the conversation when she returned to the compartment that she and James had selected earlier. It was occupied by a few first years, however, and Carlotta was obliged to find another vacant one. They would have to return to fetch their uniforms later on, but for now, it did not matter. Carlotta more or less expected to spend the majority of the trip with the Marauders or Shelley, and where they sat was of little consequence. At length, she found an empty compartment and seated herself beside the window. She peered out at the passing scenery, humming under her breath. Scarcely five minutes had passed before the compartment door opened, however, and Carlotta turned to see a witch she didn't recognize enter.

Just because Carlotta did not recognize the witch did not mean that she was unacquainted with her, however.

The witch was petite and curvaceous, quite pretty with ash blond hair styled in a fashionable, just-below-the-shoulder wave.

"Oh-my-Merlin, Shelley!"

Michelle Mumps smiled at her, but it was not the smile of years gone by. She'd had her teeth fixed—whitened and straightened—and it looked as though she'd finally become serious about her bubotuber regime, because her skin was clear. She wore make up, too, and her nose looked different, so that Carlotta was momentarily unsure of whether her imagination or other methods had changed it.

Whatever the case, Shelley did not look like Shelley.

Carlotta sprang to her feet

"Oh my Merlin!" she repeated, looking her friend up and down in disbelief. Shelley's smile could not be removed. "You're so—so tan... and you said you were on a diet, but, Shell, you're so skinny now... you look beautiful..."

"I know," squealed Shelley, and it was strange hearing her best friend's voice from this unfamiliar life form.

"Sit down," Carlotta beckoned. "Where's your trunk? You'll have to explain all of this to me."

"My trunk is in another compartment," said Shelley, sitting down. "As for this..." She indicated to her new look, "...there's not too much to explain. I've been on a diet all summer—I told you that—and then... well... the last few weeks, I've had this marvelous potion..."

"Potion?"

"Mmm... it's a miracle. Actually, it's magic, but all the same. You should try it, Car—it's brilliant..."

Carlotta raised her eyebrows. "Shell, you know I don't... use things like that."

"Oh, right," said Shelley vaguely. "Well, anyway—I had my hair and nails and skin done about two weeks ago, and..." she beamed, "here I am!"

"Two weeks ago?"

"Mhm."

Carlotta searched for words, but Shelley seemed to be at no loss for them.

"Carlotta, you wouldn't believe what's happened to me in the last month. It's amazing. Everything's changed..." She beamed. "But what about you? I guess things have changed for you, too..."

"Right," said Carlotta stiffly. "I actually—I was a little worried about... about your response to that... particular bit of news."

"The fact that you're dating James Potter?" asked Shelley casually.

"Well... yes."

"I wrote you back, didn't I?"

"Yes, but... I mean... Shelley, I don't want to hurt you, and I know that you—that you used to have a bit of a crush on him, so..."

"Never mind it, Car," interrupted her friend, getting to her feet. "I've known James for as long as you have, and I've never done anything about my little crush. You had an opportunity, and—like you always say... love is meant to be explored, right?"

"So—so you're really alright with it?"

"Absolutely. Come on, then—I want to show me off to everyone." She slid open the compartment door. "Now that you're in a relationship, Car, I'll have to be the new you."

Carlotta smiled weakly. Michelle Mumps the new Carlotta Meloni? Not likely. The girl could scarcely utter a word in the presence of an attractive bloke...

(11:00 a.m.)

Remus Lupin waited outside the prefects' compartment, presumably for James to finish whatever it was he had to do, but Carlotta and Shelley awaited the Head Boy at the end of the car. Carlotta pretended to listen to Shelley's endless chatter about potions and psych-healers and her diet, but really, her attention was fixed upon the prefects' compartment. The prefects themselves had already left, except Remus... what were Lily and James doing in there?

Nothing bad, obviously. Remus was right outside. But was Lily telling James that he should break up with her? Was she saying what a whore she thought Carlotta was? Was she angry that James hadn't told her?

And what would Shelley be like when James came out to meet them? Would she retreat into her usual shyness? Would she remember all her feelings for James and start to blame Carlotta? Would she act the confident, self-assured part that she had, so far, pulled off quite exceptionally?

Oh, Merlin, that James would hurry up, so that Carlotta would know one way or the other.

Finally (and it was not actually that long a wait), the Head Boy appeared. Remus did not join him, but rather reentered the prefects' compartment, and James walked to meet the two witches that awaited him at the end of the car.

"Hullo again," he said cheerfully to Carlotta, and then he smiled good-naturedly at Shelley. "Alright there, Mi... Shelley?"

"Mishelley?" teased Shelley, crossing her arms.

"Yes," said James. "That's your nickname. Didn't you know?"

Shelley giggled, and Carlotta experienced the strangest tugging sensation in her chest. It could almost have been said to resemble (but of course not really at all) jealousy. But then Shelley broke her eye contact with James and quite casually suggested they find a compartment, to which James requested that they sit with the Marauders.

Shelley agreed enthusiastically, and Carlotta wondered why she felt unhappy with the scheme.

(2:00 p.m.)

"Alright, now I'm confused," said Sirius Black, squinting at Shelley as though he needed spectacles. "There's another bird in your dormitory?"

Carlotta and Shelley had joined the Marauders in their compartment before lunch, but some of them were having a more difficult time adjusting to this fact than others. Carlotta sat to James's right and Shelley to his left; Peter and Sirius sat across from them, but Remus had departed after luncheon for his prefect patrols.

"No, Sirius, this is Shelley," Carlotta attempted to explain. Sirius sent her a vacant look. "Michelle. Mumps. My best friend."

"You know her," said Peter, rolling his eyes. "She played Gobstones with us at the end of the year."

Sirius frowned.

"How many girls did you think there were in that dorm?" asked James, confused. Sirius shrugged.

"I dunno." He counted them off on his fingers. "Marlene, Evans, Shack, Mary, Carlotta..." He looked at Shelley. "You? Have you really been there this whole time?"

James sighed, rolling his eyes. "He's not really mean; just stupid."

"What? She never introduced herself. How was I supposed to know her?"

"Sirius..."

"No, he's right," interrupted Shelley, much to Carlotta's supreme shock. She held out her hand. "Michelle Mumps."

"Well, I know that now," said Sirius, taking her hand. "Really¸ though—the whole time? All six years?"

(4:00 p.m.)

It wasn't until rather later in the afternoon that Carlotta had any time alone with James. They'd had scarcely seen each other without the other Marauders present since her departure from Hartland, for though she had visited the Potters' almost the instant her family had returned from Italy, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had been present for most of her stay. Most.

In the late afternoon, however, James bribed a few second years into vacating a compartment at the end of the car, and they took full advantage of the solitude.

"I love trains," James muttered against Carlotta's lips, and she smiled.

"Did you charm the door?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

She had been on the seat beside him but, holding onto his shoulder for support, moved to sit on his lap, and then knelt up, kissing him all the while.

"Did you miss me?" she whispered, in between kisses.

"Since... yesterday?"

"Mhm..."

She dragged her nails down the back of his neck.

"Mmm... was... positively lost."

"Good."

God, he was good at this.

She moved her lips to the space just below his ear, and, as she did, an odd thing happened. A thought that had never bothered Carlotta Meloni before now occurred to her.

Who else?

Who else had kissed that particular spot on his neck? Who else had sat on his lap and thought her thoughts? Who else had run her fingers through his hair? Who else had he kissed like this?

Get a grip, Carlotta. This is not you. Petty jealousies are beneath you.

Who else had he made sigh, running his hands up the outside of her leg, or...?

Carlotta pulled back. James raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She got off his lap. "I was just—just thinking maybe we could... talk."

James looked only that much more confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. No, no, no, no, I just... I just want to talk." She wasn't convincing anyone, but James was polite enough not to comment.

"Okay," he replied agreeably. "Let's talk. What about?"

"Um... well..." How many girls have you snogged since fourth year and where can I find them? "It's crazy about Shelley, huh?"

"Seriously?"

"What? She's my best friend. It's a valid topic."

"Okay," he repeated, shrugging. "Yeah. It's nice for her."

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno... she just seems... friendlier. More confident."

"Do you think she's pretty?"

"What?"

"Never mind. I didn't mean that. I mean... I didn't mean that in a... obnoxious girlfriend way."

James frowned. "Carlotta, is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, of course it is," sighed his girlfriend in reply. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like a madwoman right now. I think—I think I need a moment. Why don't you—why don't you go and chat with your mates, and I'll go chat with mine for a while?"

"Um... okay?"

"Yes..." Carlotta ushered him to his feet. "You do that."

Still baffled, James nonetheless complied. He was all but pushed out of the compartment and then walked the length of the corridor, stepping through the bewitched door that carried him onto the next car, where his friends had their own compartment. Carlotta ran one hand through her long, soft hair, waiting a few minutes until she thought her boyfriend would be safely inside the Marauders' compartments. Then, she followed his path onto the first car, heading directly for the compartment where her fellow seventh year Gryffindor girls had formerly sat. She had no idea if they resided there still—or if, following the Head meeting, Lily had returned there at all—but Mary, Marlene, and Donna had been there when Carlotta returned from the prefects' compartment, and it seemed perfectly plausible that they would be there still.

She did not knock, but slid open the door to Compartment G immediately upon her arrival. The four girls Carlotta had expected to see there, however, had diminished to only one.

"Hi," said Marlene, the occupant, confused.

"Is Lily around?" asked Carlotta.

"I don't know where everyone went. I only just got back a little while ago."

"Oh... you have no idea then—when she'll be back?"

Suspiciously: "Why do you need Lily?"

"Well... I don't know," Carlotta had to admit. "I just... I needed her advice on something. Can I talk to you?"

"Why on Earth would you suspect that's a good idea?"

"I don't know who else to talk to! I would... I mean... normally Shelley... but, she's... and Lily can be rather obnoxious, but she's good at listening—which isn't even a real skill, so it's not as though..."

"Meloni, calm down," Marlene interrupted. "It's fine. Talk."

Carlotta nodded; she took a deep breath and began: "I think I'm going mad."

"Going?"

"I don't know what's wrong with me," the brunette continued, purposely ignoring the blonde's quips. "Maybe I've been hexed! Maybe I—I don't know, but something is not right."

Beginning to show a little concern, Marlene leaned forward. "Are you ill or something? Oi, ate a bad Bertie Bott's, didn't you?"

"No," sighed Carlotta. "It's not that kind of problem. It's... I... I keep having these strange thoughts..."

"I knew it! You're a lesbian!"

"Marlene!"

"No?"

"No."

"Damn it."

"It's about James. I've been having these strange thoughts about James."

"Imagining him as a woman?"

"Marlene."

"If you're going to prolong it, I'm going to be witty," said Marlene, shrugging. "What's the problem, Carlotta? Get to it already."

"I'm feeling jealous," said the brunette, very quickly and with disgust. "Of everyone. Of course everybody adores James, but every girl who comes into contact with him, I think they're trying to steal him! And just now, we were... well... I couldn't get it out of my head the other girls who he'd snogged. That's never bothered me once before! It's so... pedestrian! It's awful. And—and you're one of those... mundane types, who gets jealous over blokes, so maybe you have some advice." She looked hopefully at her companion, who stared back.

Then, Marlene burst out laughing.

For several seconds, she was unable to make any kind of response, and Carlotta folded her arms.

"I'm trying to be serious, Marlene."

"C-c-c-c-could you be... quiet—for a moment?" gasped Marlene, unable to contain her laughter. "I'm just—I'm just trying to store th-this m-moment in my head... so... so I c-c-can remember it in... in all its beauty!"

Carlotta rolled her eyes.

"Oh, my Merlin, I want to have a torrid love affair with this moment," Marlene continued, regaining a little control. "I want to buy this moment dinner. I want to have this moment's illegitimate children. I want to..."

"Marlene, it's not funny."

"Oh, I beg to differ," chuckled Marlene. "I mean... did you honestly expect sympathy? From me? Agrippa, that's rich."

"This is completely different from Miles..." said Carlotta impatiently.

"Yes, dear, it is," replied the other. "This is so, so, so much better." She paused and then added, "For me, at least."

"I thought you were supposed to be one of the nice ones."

"Not to you!"

Carlotta got to her feet. "You see, this is why I wanted Lily."

She started for the door, but Marlene hopped up and impeded her path. "No, no, no, wait," said the blonde, and she seemed to be fighting a battle with the impulse to laugh again. "I'll be good. I can give good advice, too."

Reluctantly, Carlotta sat down again. "Let's have it then."

Marlene took a moment to compose her thoughts. She sat down across from Carlotta. "Believe it or not, I understand. James has spent the better part of six years pursuing one girl, and now he's with you, and you have first hand knowledge that a boy will cheat on his girlfriend. And that makes you nervous. Right so far?"

Carlotta nodded slowly.

"The fact that you're jealous does not make you insane—it makes you a human being, Carlotta. The fact that you're jealous of every single girl you see does, however, make you insane. But, hold up, before you storm out of here, it's perfectly understandable. It's probably just a little bit of latent humanity poking through that incredibly skinny and tan exterior of yours. You're starting to have legitimate feelings, and I imagine the fact that you haven't had very many in the last seventeen years is making your whole system a little mad."

"I've had legitimate feelings," Carlotta grumbled.

"Then why are you always mocking other people for having them, too?"

"I..."

"Carlotta—James isn't going to cheat on you."

Carlotta was not convinced. "All blokes will cheat."

Marlene shook her head. "Ten galleons says that James won't."

"But what makes you so sure?"

"I don't know. Call it intuition."

"That's not exactly reassuring." Carlotta rose to leave again.

"Wait," said Marlene again, and Carlotta waited. "You're not really worried about Lily trying to get James, are you?"

"No," the brunette admitted.

"You're worried about someone else trying something?"

"Yes."

Marlene nodded slowly. "Well, then... my only advice is that you should be a better girlfriend then you were a friend."

But, Carlotta thought, it was not so much advice as it was a warning—a well-meaning one, perhaps, but a warning all the same.

Carlotta returned to the Marauders' compartment, feeling no more confident but somewhat more in-control then before. Sirius and Peter played Wizards' Chess, and Remus read a battered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"So this is what the Marauders do in their down time, is it?" she asked, smiling at the sedate scene before her.

"Rather mundane, isn't it?" remarked James, unbothered by the fact.

"No," Carlotta replied; she sat down and leaned her had against her boyfriend's shoulder. "Just normal."

(7:45 p.m.)

"Zendra, Angelo" became a Gryffindor, finally bringing the annual Sorting Ceremony to a conclusion. Carlotta, who was seated with the Marauders, beside James, clapped with the rest of the Gryffindors, and then—as McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat and stool—Professor Dumbledore got to his feet.

"I welcome all of you, both old and new Hogwarts students, to another school year," began the aging wizard, and Carlotta felt a surge of affection the headmaster; there was comfort in the familiarity of his voice. "Of course, you are all anxious to take to your suppers, so I will remain succinct, I hope, in my speeches. However, there are a few orders of business to attend to. I would first like to take this opportunity to introduce to you the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—may I present, Professor Eran Ramsay."

There followed the usual polite applause for the wizard who rose from the staff table; he had a hard, angular face, with high cheek bones and a long, thin nose. His hair was black and long, worn in an inoffensive pony-tail and coupled with a goatee. However, as severe as Professor Ramsay appeared, he smiled benignly as he bowed his head in response to the clapping of the students.

"Of course another bloke," Carlotta pointed out. "Third one in a row for that position, isn't it?"

She knew she didn't imagine that Sirius rolled his eyes in response.

"Who's the little kid?" Remus muttered, before an actual argument could break out between James's girlfriend and his best mate. "Sitting next to Ramsay."

A second look told Carlotta that Remus was correct; between Ramsay and Professor Babble, there sat a young girl. She could not have been more than nine—certainly not Hogwarts age—and had black hair, cut in a severe bob. The young girl did not look out across the hall, but stared shyly at the empty plate before her.

Remus's question went unanswered, however, for when Dumbledore resumed his speech, it was to introduce another new addition to the staff.

"Secondly," the headmaster went on, "in light of recent events—both in and outside of Hogwarts—it is the Ministry of Magic's wish that all the students have the opportunity to speak to someone, should they feel the need. And so, it is my pleasure to introduce Madam Fiona Keepdown."

Carlotta was not the only one to gasp at the name and the witch who answered to it, but she was certainly in the minority.

"Fiona Keepdown?" the Gryffindor whispered to her four confused companions. "She's brilliant! Have any of you read her book?"

"What book?" asked James.

"It's called Spiritual Magic," Carlotta gushed in an undertone. "There are some truly inspired meditation exercises in there—it drastically improved my spell power. The book's positively stocked with information... beautiful insights into the lie of self-reliance, the magical properties of incense, and this wonderful piece on the importance of a witch's connection with air..."

Sirius raised one eyebrow. "Why on earth would we have read that book?"

Carlotta scowled. "It was a best seller."

"Did the entire Spell Damage ward at St. Mungo's buy a copy?"

"Padfoot," James censured, kicking him under the table.

Carlotta only rolled her eyes, while Dumbledore went on to list a few of Madam Keepdown's accomplishments. The witch herself was a tall, broad-shouldered woman of about forty. She had long, curly, honey-colored hair and eyes almost the same color. She wore gauzy green robes, tied around the waist with a cut of rope, which contrasted with the extensive jewelry (of varying metals) on her hands and around her neck. Her earrings looked like peacock feathers.

"Madam Keepdown," continued Dumbledore, "will be staying at Hogwarts, per the Ministry's invitation, to provide... guidance, should any of the students feel that they need someone to talk to."

"That means you, Pete," Sirius whispered derisively.

"As the only here who has tried to off herself," said Carlotta, "I think it might be a good idea."

"Yeah, but you were cursed, not lonely," Sirius pointed out.

"You think it wasn't scarring?"

"Fair enough."

"Each student," Professor Dumbledore carried on, "will have a scheduled time to meet with Madam Keepdown every month. Furthermore, you will meet with Madam and the rest of your year once a week at a regularly scheduled time."

"Bloody hell," sighed Peter, but he recoiled somewhat when Carlotta scowled at him.

"This could be really helpful," she pointed out, but the Marauders looked skeptical.

"And lastly," the headmaster said, "this year, Hogwarts will be hosting a crew of hit wizards from the Ministry of Magic. Over the last year, we have sporadically hosted such teams, but this year, the hit wizards shall maintain constant security over the school. I ask that you, the students respect them and their wishes while they remain here, for they do so for your own safety. Now, I have delayed your feast long enough." He smiled across the hall. "Welcome, all." Then, Dumbledore clapped his hands once. Carlotta did not need to look at her plate to know what appeared there.

(8:45 p.m.)

The Great Hall emptied and the Entrance Hall filled, as the students moved from one to the other, mixing at the bottleneck of the doors and then branching off into the groups of the four houses. The trip across the Entrance Hall was laborious, for Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, who were required to move in the same direction against the flows of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. Carlotta stayed with the Marauders (sans Remus, who led the others of the house), though James would soon be required, as Head Boy, to depart with Lily for a meeting in Dumbledore's office.

The loud rumble of differing conversations and prefect-issued instructions (primarily directed at the first years) overcame all else, until, before Carlotta's crowd had traversed half the hall—one piercing shriek cut through the din.

"What was that?" Carlotta wondered at once, for her view of the source was impeded by other craning students.

James had already left her side, though, pushing his way through the crowd to see what had gone wrong. Carlotta followed—more successfully than the other Marauders, who were larger than she—and a small ring had already formed around the screamer and the other actors in the little drama.

"You slag!" cried Mary MacDonald (it was she that had shrieked), and to the onlookers' shock, it was to Shelley Mumps and that Ravenclaw, something Stebbins, that she spoke. "You—you—you—you were snogging her?"

"Mary, I..."

Stebbins' attempt at an explanation was thwarted, however.

"You lying cheating slag!" she reiterated. "And YOU!" (To Shelley), "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Shelley flushed red. Her pale hair was disheveled; she wore, Carlotta noted. her school skirt significantly shorter than in past years, and despite the weight loss, her jumper seemed tighter. It was a funny thing to notice at a time like this, but it was the very first thing that struck Carlotta, followed by the fact that Shelley's lipstick was rather smeared.

"Mary, I didn't..." Stebbins tried again, but it was obvious that, whatever his claim, he did. Traces of aforementioned smeared lipstick marked his face and collar.

Mary drew her wand. James moved to stoop any further trouble, but Donna Shacklebolt and Marlene Price already had it in hand. Marlene grabbed Mary's free wrist and Donna moved between the opposing groups one steadying hand held out.

"I can't believe you!" Mary shouted. Lily, who had been up ahead with Remus, could be seen pushing her way back down the marble staircase towards the disturbance. "Y-y-y-you and... her? Shelley Bloody Mumps? You have got go to be kidding me!"

"Mary, c'mon, let's..." Marlene attempted to coax her friend away, but Mary struggled against her restraints.

"You disgusting twat," Mary continued furiously. "Both of you! In the Entrance Hall! Oh my God, I can't even..." She looked ready to use her wand again.

Lily arrived and forcefully took hold of Mary.

"Mary, I... we..." Shelley stammered something, but whatever her defense, it was belied in the guilt painted clearly across her face and Stebbins's.

Lily had now moved her arm around Mary's shoulders, steering her back into the crowd and muttering something to her. Mary shouted a few more profanities, and everyone else had begun whispering too. James seemed to snap out of whatever confused trance had bound him, and he stepped forward, ordering everyone to return to their Common Room, perhaps with the authority of Head Boy, but more in his capacity as James Potter.

"Bloody hell," said Sirius to Peter, somewhere to Carlotta's left, as the crowd slowly resumed their paths; "I thought we were about to have another Entrance Hall brawl."

"Almost a tradition now," agreed Peter.

James continued to gesture people into their proper groups. Carlotta had lost sight of both Stebbins and Shelley, and she found herself knocked around as she strived to remain stationary and catch a glimpse. Shortness had its disadvantages. She was moved, by force of the crowd, closer to the marble stair, and there she surrendered, temporarily giving up the search and ascending.

At the top of the staircase, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, more organized now, separated into their separate queues, but Carlotta stepped out of her group. James was already jogging ahead—perhaps to Dumbledore's office—so Carlotta hung back, trying to see Shelley. The staircase cleared, and Carlotta was soon left alone. Or almost, anyway.

At the bottom of the marble staircase sat Shelley. The last of the Hufflepuffs disappeared, and Carlotta descended.

"Shelley..."

"Go away," retorted the other, and Carlotta flinched at the sharpness in her tone.

"Shelley, please. Are you alright?"

"Oh, a great mate, you are, Carlotta," Shelley snapped again, scowling over her shoulder as Carlotta reached the bottom step. "What do you even want?"

"What's wrong?" pressed the brunette earnestly. "Shelley, what's happened?"

"Nothing. Go away."

"I'm not going to go away. Tell me what happened. Did you...?"

"I don't want to talk about it," snapped Shelley, wiping her reddening eyes. "Oh, there goes the mascara..."

"Shelley..."

"Oh, just leave it, Carlotta. I don't want to talk now."

"But—but what Mary MacDonald just said..."

"Yes, it's true, now leave me alone."

"Shelley, you can talk to me..."

"I don't want to right now," said Shelley firmly. "I want to be left alone."

Slowly, Carlotta nodded, getting to her feet. "I'll go upstairs then..."

"Good."

"You'll be up soon? When—when you're ready?"

"Sure."

"Shelley..."

"Yes, I'll be up."

(9:20 p.m.)

"THAT BASTARD! THAT SLAGGING, LYING, SHITE-SACK ARSEHOLE!"

Mary was throwing shoes at the wall when Carlotta entered the seventh year girls' dormitory.

With a smack, one of Mary's trainers struck near Donna's bed.

"THAT CHEATING SON OF A BITCH!"

SMACK.

A loafer hit the space next to the window and fell behind the desk.

"...AND WITH THAT FAT, UGLY POCKMARKED BINT!"

Marlene looked helplessly on as a sandal nearly overturned one of the lamps. Donna was rearranging her unpacked dresser with little concern for the unfolding drama around her. At first, no one noticed Carlotta's entrance; then, Mary, in bending over to pick up the other trainer, caught sight of the new arrival and for a moment she calmed.

"Oh it's you... I thought it might have been your whore of a protégé."

"Mary, I know you don't want to hear this," sighed Marlene, coming to her friend's side, "but you need to calm down. You are going to ruin all of your shoes."

"I don't care," muttered Mary, but the trainer thumped to the floor nonetheless. She stood there, in the center of the dormitory, clothed in her uniform, with her robes falling off one shoulder and a few tendrils of chocolate brown hair pulled loose from her half-tied arrangement. Her mascara had run a little, and she looked so... sad.

Mary MacDonald was a silly girl—Carlotta knew this to be true. She was exactly the sort of girl that Carlotta avoided being herself, and so it was odd that she should feel such... such sympathy (empathy, perhaps) for this grieving little witch.

"What—what happened?" Carlotta asked, because she still wasn't sure that she knew. Mary at once hardened again.

"What happened?" she almost shouted, and Marlene sighed. "What HAPPENED? What happened is that I saw your fucking whore of a mate finishing up a suppertime snog with my fucking boyfriend! Oh God..." Mary covered her eyes with one hand and sat down on the floor. "Everyone saw... everyone... in the Entrance Hall... how humiliating..."

"Are—are you sure?" asked Carlotta; she didn't know why it bothered her so. She'd always thought Shelley could do with a little corruption. "I mean, are you sure they...?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure!" snapped Mary, getting to her feet again. "They were right bloody there! And I—oh my God, everyone heard me... I was shouting... why didn't I at least get to hex her? Or him? Or both?"

Marlene patted Mary's back comfortingly.

"But maybe Shelley didn't know..." Carlotta began, and Mary looked ready to shout for a third time, only to be interrupted by the slamming of one of the drawers Donna had been rearranging.

"Are you trying to get a shoe launched at your head, Meloni?" she asked pointedly, turning to face the others. And she had a point.

"Didn't know what?" Mary ranted on. "That I was dating Stebbins? Of course she knew! How could she bloody not? We dated the whole end of last year! She was in the compartment this morning when..." Mary stopped suddenly.

"Stebbins wasn't in our compartment when Shelley was," Marlene pointed out, but Mary's mind was evidently elsewhere.

Then, she smiled and looked up at Carlotta.

"There's something you should know about your chum, Meloni," she began.

"Mary, don't..."

Marlene went ignored.

"She's going to try to sleep with James."

Carlotta blinked. "What?"

"She told us this morning."

"No, Shelley's... Shelley's fine with James and me dating..."

"Nope," said Mary, and Marlene once again protested futilely. "She told us in the train compartment this morning. She even has a plan."

"A—a plan?"

"Yep."

"What plan?"

"I don't know," said Mary. "I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out, though. You taught her everything she knows, right?"

Carlotta sat down on the edge of the bed that had been hers since first year; Mary seemed to have calmed down with this little revelation.

Marlene suggested to Mary that the two of them go up to Lily's room to talk, but Mary didn't want to talk. Marlene suggested they go to the kitchens, but Mary was full. Marlene suggested that Mary go to bed, but Mary couldn't possibly sleep. Mary suggested that she go to the Ravenclaw dormitories and tear Stebbins limb from limb, but Marlene didn't want to go to prison. In the end, Mary went to take a shower, and Marlene went downstairs to wait for Lily.

Donna finished her arrangement of the drawers and set about unpacking her books.

"Is it true what Mary said?" Carlotta asked faintly, when they were alone. "About Shelley?"

"It's none of my business," replied Donna, unconcerned. "It's none of Mary's business either, but Mary doesn't care about that sort of thing. I do. And I don't want to be involved in this."

"Why would Mary say it if it's not true?"

"MacDonald's angry."

"So should I believe her?"

"I don't care. I suggest you believe whatever will cause the least amount of interference with my life and my ability to get full marks on my Ancient Runes N.E.W.T."

It was clear that Donna was not going to be terribly helpful, so Carlotta ceased her interrogation. Marlene returned only a few minutes after she had gone—Lily-less—but did not look much more in the mood for conversation and went directly to wash up in the loo. Anyway, Carlotta had already gone to Marlene for advice once today; twice would just be humiliating.

She waited for Mary to finish her shower or for Lily to return—whichever came first. Eventually, Donna picked up her own bath towel and went to take a shower, just as the sound of running water switched off. Unfortunately, before she had emerged, the dormitory door opened, admitting Shelley.

The blonde looked anxiously about. "Is she in here?"

Carlotta jumped up off the bed, unexpectedly nervous at the sight of Shelley, now dry-eyed. "She's..."

"Oh, there is no way that whoring bitch is sleeping in here tonight."

Mary had returned. In her nightie and dressing gown, she stood on the threshold and glared at Shelley with unmitigated loathing.

Shelley looked hurt—actually, for a second, she looked as though she would cry again. She wasn't used to this.

"Mary, you can't kick Shelley out of the dormitory," Marlene pointed out, standing just behind her friend. "She'll have nowhere to sleep."

"She can try the Ravenclaw boys' dorms," snapped Mary. "Apparently, they're not very choosy."

"Mary..."

But Mary's eyes were fixed upon Shelley. "The thing that you don't understand about me, Shelley, is that, naturally, I'm not a nice person. I am one of those mean, popular bitches, who wants nothing more than to mock the girls who bite their nails and chew on their hair. Usually, I hold all of that in, because Lily makes me feel bad about it. But for you, I'm going to make an exception, clear? My advice to you is stay out of my line of vision, because—y'know... out of sight, out of mind, and... you do not want to be on my mind."

"I..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mary once again interrupted. "Was there something you needed?"

"I didn't..."

At last, Lily returned, and not a moment too soon.

"Thank Merlin," sighed Marlene.

The Head Girl surveyed the scene in front of her. "What's going on?"

(10:00 p.m.)

Without knocking, Carlotta opened the door to the Head Boy's dormitory. James knelt on the floor, already in his night clothes, as he fumbled through his trunk for something. He looked up upon Carlotta's entrance and smiled, but there was something—something just not right in his expression.

"Alright, Carlotta?"

Carlotta tried to match his smile, but it was weak. She sat down on the large bed and took in the room around her—the dark wood paneling, the large oak desk and wardrobe, the heavy window-hangings, like spun gold...

"What's wrong?" asked James, sensing something amiss.

"You didn't hear all of that?" replied Carlotta. "Shelley? Lily? The shouting in the dormitory?"

James shook his head. He got to his feet. "What happened?"

His girlfriend merely sighed, though it was comforting, at least, to know that someone in Gryffindor tower had not heard all of that. She patted the space on the bed beside her. "Sit down? I have something to tell you..."

James did so, once again repeating his inquiry of, "What happened?"

"I lied to you," said Carlotta. Merlin, he was handsome, her boyfriend. "I said 'no lies,' but the fact of it is that I'd already told you one."

James did not seem to understand.

"...I said that Shelley didn't hate you, because she didn't actually have an opinion on you one way or the other. Do you remember?"

"Er... I suppose so..."

"It's not true." And the rest came spilling out in half-broken sentences, inexpressible concepts and feelings that words failed to convey: everything—Shelley's old crush, Carlotta's own mixed feelings, her ex-best-mate's strange behavior on the train, what had happened (some of what happened) in the dormitory just now... and when she was finished, Carlotta folded her hands on her lap and waited for the response.

"Well..." said James at length; he sounded as though he'd been hit in the back of the head with a beater's bat. This was obviously a bit for him to analyze. "I suppose that explains a few things..."

Carlotta looked up at him. "What things?"

"Well..." her boyfriend began again. "Just... unexpected reactions, I guess."

Unexpected reactions? Who had an unexpected reaction? Sirius, perhaps... not Lily... her apathy was hardly explained by the Shelley situation...

"Never mind it," said James, and he scooted back on the bed to sit with his back against the headboard. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," Carlotta replied, still seated at the edge of the bed. "I thought... that is, I knew you wouldn't... you wouldn't want to get mixed up in all of this." She hesitated a long moment, before asking the critical question: "Do you want to break up?"

"No," said James—there was neither shock nor dismay in the tone of his reply, however; he was entirely matter-of-fact. "But I don't want you to lose your best mate over me either."

Carlotta thought she might cry. She shook her head and dropped her gaze. "Unless, in the event of our breakup, you're planning on seeing Shelley, it's not going to make a difference for her."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She spoke very plainly, "I've already lost my best mate." James tried to argue, but Carlotta cut him off: "No, listen—I know. It's done. But that's not really the issue... do you—do you want to break up because... because of what I've done?"

"No," replied James, in the exact same manner as before. "I don't want to. But—I'm just not sure what—what I can do that doesn't end with me being a complete git."

"That's my fault, isn't it?" He didn't answer; she interpreted his silence as an affirmative, and wondered why she felt as though she were going to cry again. "It's alright. What was it? Three weeks? Not actually a bad run... might be a record for me, I don't know..."

"Carlotta."

"What?"

James sighed. He waved for Carlotta to come join him, and she climbed closer, seating herself beside him at the top of the bed and resting her head upon his shoulder. "We'll figure something out," he said. "I don't know what we'll figure out, but... we'll do something."

Much later, when Carlotta had borrowed pajamas from James, and he had at last drifted to sleep beside her, she lay awake, staring at the wall of the dark dormitory. She wasn't even close to being tired.

There was a small, vindictive part of Carlotta that she did not like to admit to (or give in to) that reveled in the capturing of James Potter. It was the same part of her that had wanted to see Alice Griffiths defeated and had been sorely injured when Frank had rejected her. And now, it took pride in having James want her, when the only one he had ever really seemed to want was Lily Evans (it had been so easy). It took pride in the fact that he—who had seemed distant and unattainable to Shelley—was hers.

But that was only a little piece of Carlotta, and she was ashamed of it, even when it drove her actions.

Mainly what Carlotta felt just then was fear. Shelley was pretty now and driven, and Carlotta knew all too well what that combination might mean for a boyfriend. But, if she were being completely honest with herself, Carlotta knew that there was more to it than that.

Why him? Why James Potter.

Truthfully, James was Head Boy now, and it was not of Shelley that Carlotta was afraid.

Part II: Mary

"Never a Good Reason"

Mary MacDonald walked assertively across Platform Nine and Three Quarters, head held high and a smile on her perfectly painted red lips. The familiar, painful twinge of nostalgia struck her only briefly at the sight of the Hogwarts Express, and then, with the force of all her happy anticipations for the term, she shoved aside her sadness at the knowledge that this was, indeed, her final first day of school.

To be in love, even superficially, on the first day of school, is a wonderful thing indeed.

She wore a cute little sundress, blue and quite short, but it adored her summer tanned skin, and everyone was looking at her in just the right way—not too much, but just enough to let it be known that Mary Elizabeth MacDonald looked good.

"'Morning, Lily!" the brunette said to her friend, as she skipped past; "See you on the train, shall I?" But Mary did not wait for Lily's reply; she hurried on by, and eventually located a burly sixth year to help her load her trunk. While he did so, Mary was nearly knocked over by a third year, skipping by and chanting in a rather annoying sing-song voice, "Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!"

Mary rolled her eyes. "Children. Honestly."

Her friends always sat on the same car for simplicity sake, so locating Marlene and Donna aboard the train was of little difficulty. She squeezed through the corridors, nodding and smiling at those she knew and ignoring the rest.

"Mary!" greeted Sabrina Barbery, a Ravenclaw in their year, as she passed. "How are you? How was your holiday?"

"Oh, fantastic. I got such a tan! You?"

"Wonderful. Still dating Stebbins?"

"All summer, yes."

"So lucky. He's dreamy."

"I know," replied Mary, and they both giggled.

"Well, we'll have to catch up soon," said Sabrina lightly. "So much to tell! Oh, did you hear?" She leaned confidentially forward. "Carlotta Meloni and James Potter."

"No way..."

Sabrina nodded, pleased to have been the one to relate the news. "I had it straight from Valerie Turpin."

"I bet she was furious."

"Oh, everyone knows Val's insanely jealous of everything Carlotta does, and anyway I think she fancies James."

"Who doesn't, these days? When did this all happen though? I saw James a few days ago, and he didn't say a word."

Sabrina shrugged. "No idea. Val was sparing with the details."

"She wouldn't want to think about it too much."

Sabrina laughed politely. There was a pause, as she waited for the inevitable reciprocation of gossip. Sabrina had given her contribution, and now it was Mary's turn.

"Well, you know Adam McKinnon and Prudence Daly are going out, I'm sure."

"Prudence? Merlin, I had no idea! When?"

"His sister married her—second cousin or something. They got together at the wedding."

"No way. Wow—wait until Sheryll hears... what did Marlene Price say?"

Mary hesitated. "Marlene?"

"Sure, didn't Marlene and Adam date?"

"No, they were only mates."

"Blokes aren't mates with girls for that long unless their getting something on the side. They probably snogged a little... or maybe she does other kinds of favors..."

"No, she didn't," said Mary firmly. "They were just friends."

Sabrina shrugged. "Whatever you say. You would know better than I. But, honestly, Prudence and Adam? I can't believe I never thought of it before. They'll be adorable... Oh, and did you hear about Clancy Goshawk and Charlie Plex?"

"Them too?" asked Mary. "Busy summer, I guess. How did it happen?"

"One of his brother's parties I expect," said Sabrina, waving her hand airily. "How do these things ever happen?"

"Bit of a shock, considering Clancy's so clean cut. The girl doesn't even drink, does she?"

"And she's a prefect," agreed Sabrina sagely. "Anyway, I'd better go. I'm supposed to meet Sheryll. We'll catch up soon?"

"Of course."

Then, they went their separate ways, and Mary found her friends' compartment. It was occupied not only by Marlene and Donna, however, but a younger witch as well, whom Mary guessed to be Donna's sister.

"I thought you were sitting with your boyfriend," said Marlene curiously, as Mary took a seat beside her.

"I am—but not for a little while yet. How are you, then?"

"Oh just grand," said Marlene sarcastically.

"Wonderful," said Donna, in a similarly sardonic tone. "Oh, this is Bridget, by the way," she added, gesturing towards her sister. "I don't suppose you two have ever met. Bridget, Mary; Mary, Bridget."

"Lovely to meet you," said Mary, smiling brightly; "First year, are you?"

Bridget nodded.

"What house do you want to be in?" asked Marlene.

"Well..."

"It's no use, Bridge," Donna interrupted. "You'll have to be a Gryffindor. If you were a year younger, you could be anything you like, but I don't want to have to play against your house in Quidditch."

"Well, if it's good enough for Kingsley and you," said Bridget shrugging; "I can't argue too much."

"Donna was supposed to be a Ravenclaw," Marlene told her. "We think it might have been the Sorting Hat's sole error."

"Don't corrupt my sister," scolded Donna. "Silencio, Price."

Lily entered the compartment a moment later.

"Good morning, again," said Marlene. "Did you get your fill of fresh air on the platform?"

"Oh, yes, it was lovely," muttered Lily unconvincingly; she sat down beside Marlene and folded her arms.

"Is—something wrong?" asked Mary, confused. It was unlike Lily to be sullen, especially on the first day of school.

"Oh, no, everything's fucking fantast... hello, Bridget."

Donna glared at the redhead.

"Sorry," Lily apologized; she looked out the window at the stationary scene of the platform and watched the passersby in silence.

"What is wrong with everyone today?" Mary wanted to know.

"What are you talking about?" replied Lily dully. "I'm unfathomably cheerful right now."

"Obviously," said Donna.

"Well," began Bridget. "This is fun, but I'm supposed to meet Millie Bones at the end of the car..."

Donna scowled. "How do you already have friends?"

"I grew up with Millie, Donna."

"Did you? Honestly? Oh. Oi—hang on a minute, I'll take you there... make sure you don't get lost..."

"Donna, I'm fine... bye, everyone. It was nice to meet you, Mary."

Donna, nonetheless, followed her younger sister into the corridor.

"Protective Donna," mused Marlene. "This should be fun."

Donna returned, and when the train began to pull away from the station, Mary decided to share the bit of gossip she had obtained in the corridor.

"James Potter is dating Carlotta," she said, locating the blue nail varnish from her handbag and beginning to touch up a few chips on her otherwise impeccable manicure. "Sabrina Barbery just told me."

"Wait, since when?" asked Marlene, surprised. "He didn't mention it last week! Did he say anything to you about it, Lily?"

Lily had located what looked like her Hogwarts letter and was now reading over it. She shook her head. "He didn't say mention it to me."

"Some people don't feel the need to obsess over their love lives to every single person they encounter," observed Donna, with a meaningful look at Mary, who stuck out her tongue in response. Donna merely shrugged and picked up the Ancient Runes text she had brought along.

"It's still strange," said Marlene; she seemed the most perturbed by the matter, and she kept looking at Lily. Even Mary had to find it a bit odd that Lily's reaction was non-existent. Whether or not Lily had ever reciprocated any of James's feelings for her—and Mary could never decide what she believed on that matter—she ought to have some opinion. Sabrina's newest slice of information occurred to Mary, and she felt compelled to add: "Oh, Marlene, you'll have to be careful. Sabrina already asked me about your reaction to the news of Adam and Prudence. She thinks you two dated."

"Oh God. How does she already know about them?"

"Sabrina Barbery knows about that sort of thing before anyone else... it's her defining characteristic."

Marlene raised her eyebrows.

"...And I might have told her."

"Nice."

"It's not as though she wouldn't find out on her own..."

"I know, but..."

"Hello everyone," interrupted someone knew, standing in the open doorway of the compartment. A blonde had entered; she wore a wool polo neck dress, yellow, that did not quite meet the middle of her thighs. She was curvy and cute, and Mary didn't recognize her, oddly enough, as she looked to be about their age.

"Hello, Shelley," greeted Donna, barely looking up from her Ancient Runes book. Everyone else, on the other hand, was staring at the new arrival—who was, indeed, Michelle Mumps—in shock.

"Sh-Shelley?" asked Marlene, still uncertain.

This seemed to be the reaction that Shelley had rather been hoping for. She sat down on the seat beside Donna, beaming from ear to ear—a smile quite unlike the awkward, yellowing one of two months prior.

"You look... adorable," Mary managed to articulate through her shock.

"Not that you didn't before," Lily covered hastily.

"Eh," said Donna, shrugging. Lily kicked her.

"It's alright," replied Shelley, and it was not just about twenty-five pounds and a good tooth-correction charm that had effected such a change; she sat straighter on the bench, and her tone of voice was more relaxed. "Marlene, your hair looks precious."

"Er... thanks," said Marlene, distracted. "Going back—what happened?"

"Diet, exercise, and someone telling you what to wear?" suggested Donna.

"A bit of that, yes," chirped Shelley. "And this fabulous potion, which I'll have to tell you all about later. I recommend it to all of you—it's amazing." (Mary was most certainly not the only one to raise her eyebrows at that comment... actually, Donna, who was still mostly absorbed in her Ancient Runes text, was the only one in the compartment that did not). "Brilliant. Anyway, I'm not allowed to eat anything that's sweet, salty, or the color brown, but other than that, it's brilliant. I got ever so tan and even had a few sessions with a psych-healer..."

"Trendy," noted Mary, and Shelley nodded vigorously. She then sighed and leaned back in her seat.

"My whole outlook has changed," she told them.

"Well—that's... good, I suppose," said Lily, for the others were silent. "I mean... you sound... happy?"

"I am happy," Shelley gushed. "I've snogged more boys in the last two weeks then in my whole life."

Mary and Marlene exchanged looks.

"Lovely," said Donna dryly, not looking up from her book. Shelley raised her eyebrows.

"Well, Donna. How was your summer. You—look pretty much the same?"

"Do I?" asked Donna. She set aside her book. "Well that's funny, because, actually, I spent the summer working in a pub to support my brothers and sister, I read all four volumes of Waffling's Magical Theory, finished the books on the list for next term, completed my homework before August, helped Mary with hers, and ordered around a well-respected auror. And, I'm sorry, you got a tan, did you say?" Shelley had no immediate response for that, until Donna returned to her book, muttering, "Wonderful. Carlotta Meloni, Volume Two."

Shelley's smile vanished at once. "I suppose you've heard," she said darkly, now addressing the whole compartment. "Sabrina Barbery was out in the corridor telling anyone who would listen, and... oh, Marlene, she mentioned Adam and Prudence Daly, too—are you alright?" She almost sounded like the old Shelley for a moment.

"Adam and I never dated," said Marlene stiffly.

"Really? I thought for certain... oh, well... anyway, James and Carlotta. Dating. Did you hear?"

"Y-yes," began Mary. "We just heard. Are you okay?"

"Well, I am now," Shelley replied. "I wasn't when I first found out. Carlotta wrote me as soon as they got together... a few weeks ago. They were on holiday in the same town, apparently."

"Just like Frank!" said Marlene, with another significant look to an apparently oblivious Lily.

"Carlotta wrote the whole thing to me in a letter, shameless as ever," Michelle continued. "I cried for about two days straight. I ate all sorts of salt and sugar and at least half a dozen brown things—it was awful."

"And then what?" asked Lily.

Shelley shrugged. "I got out of bed, bought a bit more of that potion I mentioned, got some new clothes and a tan. Isn't it nice?"

"Very nice," Mary admitted.

"I'm still darker," said Donna, and Lily smothered a giggle.

Mary frowned. "And now—now you're not upset about it?"

"Upset? Well... maybe not upset. I don't have any reason to be upset." She smiled again, with just a hint of mischief in the expression this time. "I've got a plan, you know."

"A plan?" chorused Lily and Marlene.

"Mhm." She seemed quite pleased with herself. "If Carlotta taught me anything, it's how to catch a boy who has a girlfriend."

"Well, this is lovely," said Lily, some time later when Shelley had departed once again. "Now I get to try and face James Potter in the Head meeting. Brilliant. Bloody fantastic."

"I'm worried for her," said Marlene. "Shelley, that is. She seems... different."

"And the Most Obvious award goes to..." Donna muttered.

"You know," Mary remarked, "I think you're right. It's not just the hair and the tan and the white eyeliner..."

"Confidence isn't a bad thing," Lily pointed out.

"That's not confidence," said Donna. "It's just a different kind of insecure. She may have dropped a few pounds and bleached her hair, but she's still Shelley Mumps. People don't change."

"They do sometimes," argued Lily.

"Not substantially."

"Sure they do."

"Nope. You wait and see... she'll seem really different for a while, but it will all wear away quickly enough. Same Shelley, sluttier clothes."

(12:30 p.m.)

Around noon, Donna and Marlene were sent out together in search of the food trolley, which had stopped by an hour previously but was now, at lunch time, more desperately sought after. Yet it was only Donna who returned.

"She's gone to sit with Prudence Daly," explained the witch, unwrapping a Pumpkin Pasty and shrugging off the information as though it were a comment on the weather.

"Prudence Daly?" marveled Lily and Mary in unison, and the latter added: "Whatever for?"

"I don't know. Prudence invited her. Very energetic, that one... like a Hufflepuff more than a Ravenclaw. I bet she hugs people. She seems the hugging type. Anyway..." She dropped a few trolley items onto a vacant seat, "there's your food. Enjoy it. I'm off."

"Off where?" asked Lily.

"To sit with Bridget."

"Bridget doesn't want you to sit with her," Lily advised.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"How could you possibly not know that?"

Donna looked indignant. "I'm going," she insisted, and without further regard for the wisdom imparted to her, she left.

"Poor Bridget," remarked Mary. Lily smiled weakly and then returned to the book she had been reading, unwrapping a chocolate frog in the process. Mary sighed. "Are you sure you're alright, Lily?"

"Me? Oh yes, I'm fine."

"You're certain?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Mary. I'm perfectly fine."

Mary was not entirely convinced, but she was just swayed enough that her guilt at having agreed to meet up with Stebbins at this time was mostly assuaged.

"Go right head," said Lily, when Mary introduced this idea to her. "I'm quite alright by myself."

"If you're sure..."

Lily waved her off, and Mary departed to find Stebbins.

The loo on car three of the Hogwarts Express was not made to fit more than one person. On the contrary, it was almost certainly designed so that only one person could fit in there with any degree of convenience. Mary MacDonald did not view this as a warning that two was a crowd, however; rather, she thought of it more as a challenge.

Stebbins had accidently turned the tap on a handful of times, and Mary's knickers seemed to be missing, but other than that, the experience was well worth the few bruises earned in the process. Well, probably.

Mostly.

Well, okay, he wasn't phenomenal. But she'd had much worse... oh, without a doubt: much worse. As for phenomenal: well, she'd only really had phenomenal maybe once. She supposed that to be the exception rather than the rule.

(What Mary did not know was that even her definition of "phenomenal" was rather impaired, relatively speaking, due to adolescent inexperience.)

Stebbins was fiddling with his belt—trying to refasten it—and Mary sat on the sink, light headed (mostly because she hadn't eaten, but maybe for other reasons, too) and blissful.

When he was all together again, Stebbins returned his focus to Mary; he smiled charmingly at her and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"I love you, Mary."

"I love you," she replied, grinning. And she really thought as much, too.

He was cute and charming and cheesy and a good (for argument's sake) shag. What else could she possibly want in a boyfriend, really?

"Shall we leave together?" Stebbins asked, brushing kisses across her lips.

"Mmmm, no... you go out now. I'll be out in a bit."

Stebbins nodded. He opened the door to the corridor just enough to check that the coast was clear, and it must have been, because—with a final smirk at Mary—he stepped out. Mary locked the door and at once turned to the mirror.

Like a professional, she pulled a compact from her pocket and powdered her nose and cheeks again. She wet her finger in the tap and cleaned up any mascara that had strayed underneath her eyes, and she had her hair rearranged to perfection in less than a minute. At wand point, she cleaned off her dress. located her knickers, and adjusted her outfit, so that in under five minutes, she no longer looked as though she'd just had sex in the loo on car three of the Hogwarts Express at all.

Smiling, Mary unlocked the door again and followed Stebbins' steps into the hallway.

(7:00 p.m.)

The whistle blew, and the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station. At once, the entire train seemed to explode with activity. Mary, who on returning to her compartment after an afternoon spent with Stebbins, had found it rather deserted, and she had spent the subsequent hours with Sabrina Barbery and company. They weren't a bad lot, either, although Mary never felt particularly... well... challenged among them.

Mary queued up in the corridor with the others, chatting with a girl named Sheryll about the latest dish on Sirius Black, but, when they at last moved through the traffic and onto the platform, she changed her focus to locate either one of her closer mates or her boyfriend.

Neither Marlene or Lily (or Donna, for that matter) nor Stebbins could be located however, and the other students were moving fast towards the thestral-driven carriages that would bare them up to Hogwarts. Rather than be stuck in a carriage with a few random third years or something, she quickly reserved for herself a spot in Sabrina Barbery's carriage and then continued to keep an eye out for someone better.

She had no luck, however, and ended up riding to the carriage with Sabrina's friends.

When the carriage at last came to a stop, Mary finally did locate one of her dorm-mates, although it was Donna. Still, Mary bid farewell to the others and skipped off to walk with Miss Shacklebolt towards the castle.

"Where are Lily and Marlene?"

"No idea," said Donna. "I was changing in the loo when we arrived. We were separated."

"Oh... and I don't suppose you've seen Stebbins, have you?"

"Who?"

"Stebbins. My boyfriend."

"Oh, him. No, I haven't seen him."

The second through seventh years were guided through the well remembered Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall, which was alight with hundreds of glowing, levitating candlesticks, and a sky-like ceiling, rich with countless stars. Mary breathed in the scents of the hall and realized how much she had missed this place in the last months.

She sat down at Gryffindor table with Donna, and the two were soon joined by their other two companions. Professor Dumbledore sat at the center of the staff table, and Mary marveled that, a year earlier, she had sat at Gryffindor table just as she did now and noted Professor Black for the first time. It seemed centuries ago.

Another wizard had taken Black's seat, and there was a frizzy-haired witch that Mary did not recognize present, too, but the others were all wonderfully familiar.

Professor McGonagall, who had gone to fetch the first years, now returned, leading a queue of nervous eleven-year-olds toward the front of the Great Hall. They all glanced about in wonder, some whispering, and some too awestruck to speak at all. Mary remembered falling squarely into the former category during her sorting.

McGonagall disappeared into the little room behind the staff table and then reappeared with a stool, a scroll, and the Sorting Hat. Some of the first years eyed the hat anxiously, while others seemed to already know what was coming. And yet, they all received a bit of a shock, when McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat down upon the stool, a rip opened near the rim, and the hat began to sing.

(8:45 p.m.)

Supper let out early. The Welcoming Feast usually lasted longer than an hour, but, for whatever reason, that evening—September 1st, 1976—everyone finished early and was on their way after one glorious hour of feasting.

Tired and full, the students made their way into the Entrance Hall.

Mary walked with Marlene and Donna, and Lily walked part of the way with them, before she jogged ahead to lead the way to the Common Room with Remus Lupin. The funny part—and it wasn't actually funny so much as interesting—was that if Mary had gone ahead and walked with Lily, or if she had left the Great Hall two minutes later, she might not have seen what she saw as she approached the staircase with her friends.

What she saw was this: emerging from the left side of the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, walking in a sort of zigzagged manner, so that they occasionally brushed hands, and appearing several shades of disheveled were Shelley Mumps, Mary's roommate, and Stebbins, Mary's boyfriend.

For a split second, her brain actually registered the cheerful acknowledgment: "Oh, there he is. He's alright after all..." before her brain registered several other things.

For instance, she noticed the fact that Shelley's coral lipstick was on the both of them, and that the moment they stepped into the light of the Entrance Hall, they both froze, for the Hall was either far more or far less full than they had been expecting, so that their own arrival was made unexpectedly noticeable. She noticed that Stebbins spotted Mary first, and his expression sobered at once, the smile fading from his lips before it had faded from Shelley's by several seconds. She noticed that, as the pair realized what had just happened, each seemed to retreat into him or herself. Their hands no longer brushed; they did not touch.

They looked guilty and blushed.

Mary noticed all of this. It was another split second before she understood it.

And then she shrieked.

(9:20 p.m.)

"THAT BASTARD! THAT SLAGGING, LYING, SHITE-SACK ARSEHOLE!"

He'd been saying he loved her only hours ago.

"THAT CHEATING SON OF A BITCH!"

She'd said it back.

"...AND WITH THAT FAT, UGLY POCKMARKED BINT!"

He'd snogged—possibly shagged, for all Mary knew—Shelley... for no reason at all, just because he could...

Carlotta entered the dormitory, and Mary paused in her throwing of her shoes. "Oh it's you... I thought it might have been your whore of a protégé."

Carlotta remained confused as to what, exactly had happened, and Mary explained it in simplest terms. She let the pure anger and hatred she now channeled towards Shelley Mumps permeate her voice and her words, and she didn't want to throw these shoes, she wanted to light them on fire.

"Are—are you sure?" asked Carlotta eventually. "I mean, are you sure they...?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure! They were right bloody there! And I—oh my God, everyone heard me... I was shouting... why didn't I at least get to hex her? Or him? Or both?"

Carlotta tried other rationalizations that did nothing but annoy Mary, and she was halfway through explaining that Shelley must have known about Stebbins, when she remembered something. She remembered Shelley's flippant remarks in the train compartment that morning.

"There's something you should know about your chum, Meloni," she began. She could feel herself smiling and hear herself talking, but they both seemed to be actions of another individual.

But it was brilliant, and it was perfect.

"Mary, don't..."

"She's going to try to sleep with James," said Mary.

Carlotta blinked. "What?"

"She told us this morning."

"No, Shelley's... Shelley's fine with James and me dating..."

"Nope," said Mary, still ignoring Marlene. "She told us in the train compartment this morning. She even has a plan."

"A—a plan?"

"Yep."

"What plan?"

"I don't know," said Mary. "I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out, though. You taught her everything she knows, right?"

Carlotta sat down, as though standing had just become quite difficult. Mary felt a surge of vindictive pleasure, and Marlene and Donna both looked a little anxious. Donna resumed her chores, and Marlene resumed her nannying.

"Oh, there is no way that whoring bitch is sleeping in here tonight," barked Mary.

Shelley turned red, and her hair—no longer so perfectly styled—fell in front of her face as she dropped her gaze to the floor... she was ashamed and embarrassed and hurt. She wasn't used to this. She wasn't Carlotta—even if she had known the consequences, she hadn't understood them.

Mary couldn't care less.

"Mary, you can't kick Shelley out of the dormitory," Marlene pointed out. "She'll have nowhere to sleep."

"She can try the Ravenclaw boys' dorms. Apparently, they're not very choosy."

"Mary..."

But Mary's eyes were fixed upon Shelley. "The thing that you don't understand about me, Shelley, is that, naturally, I'm not a nice person. I am one of those mean, popular bitches, who wants nothing more than to mock the girls who bite their nails and chew on their hair. Usually, I hold all of that in, because Lily makes me feel bad about it. But for you, I'm going to make an exception, clear? My advice to you is stay out of my line of vision, because—y'know... out of sight, out of mind, and... you do not want to be on my mind."

"I..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mary once again interrupted. "Was there something you needed?"

"I didn't..."

"Thank Merlin," sighed Marlene suddenly, but it was a second before Mary realized why. Lily had entered the room, returning from her Head Girl meeting, probably.

"What's going on?" she asked, moving further inside the room.

"Nothing," replied Mary authoritatively. "Shelley was just on her way out."

If it were not for Lily, Shelley would honestly have gone, too. She would quite probably have ended up on the sofa in the Common Room.

"No, Shell, ignore her," said the Head Girl, putting her arm around Mary's shoulders as she spoke to Mary's opponent. "C'mon, I've got a room all to myself, Mare. We'll have a... sleepover or something."

Mary did not remove her eyes from Shelley, but, eventually she relented.

"The door's open," Lily called after them; "I'll be along in a minute."

And, eventually, they were all up in Lily's dormitory... well, not all of them, but Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Donna all sat on the Head Girl's bed, a bottle of firewhiskey passing between them.

"There's a definite possibility we drink too much," remarked Marlene dismally.

"Or not enough," said Mary, taking a swig of firewhiskey. She passed the bottle to Donna.

"So, what do you lot you think?" asked Donna; she looked down into the bottle reflectively. "Worst day ever?"

Marlene dropped her head onto Lily's shoulder. "Worst day ever," murmured the blonde.

Mary sighed. The firewhiskey still burned her throat—she really needed a chaser—and even the alcohol induced lightheadedness did not lift the anger and guilt and grief that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

He had said he loved her, and she had said it back.

"Worst day ever," she agreed.

Part III: Donna

"Ghost of Christmas Past"

"Hold my hand."

"I'm not going to hold your hand."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm eleven years old, and it's ridiculous."

Donna scowled at her younger sister, who looked—half defiantly, half amusedly—up at the older witch.

"Anyway," Bridget Shacklebolt continued, "I have to push the trolley. C'mon, Donna—I can't very well get kidnapped with you hovering right there."

"Fine," Donna relented. "But only because I wouldn't be able to push my own trunk without both hands. You go first."

And so, with all due caution, Bridget stepped through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Donna followed.

Platform Nine and Three Quarters buzzed with students and parents alike, and Donna nearly toppled into a second year as she passed through the barrier. Bridget giggled, and it took all of Donna's self-restraint not to curse. When she had regained her footing, Donna pushed her trolley to where her younger sister awaited her.

"Never be that child," she warned. "Children like that get hexed."

The two Shacklebolts wove their way through the maze of people towards the train, pausing only as Donna spotted Lily on a bench.

"What in Merlin's name is she doing sitting about?" Donna wondered impatiently. "She's going to miss the train. Daydreaming, I expect."

Bridget rolled her eyes, but Donna pretended not to notice, and they approached Lily, who did, indeed, seem to be daydreaming as she sat on the bench, humming almost imperceptibly in the din.

"C'mon, then," Donna said to her friend, skipping formalities. "I'll go find a compartment."

Lily, too, rolled her eyes, but she must have been as accustomed to Donna's way of talking as Bridget, for she replied with relative patience: "Alright, alright. I'll be along in a minute."

Donna nodded and then indicated for Bridget to follow her towards the first car.

A younger student (Donna didn't know how old... all first through fourth years looked roughly the same to her: short) was skipping about the platform, loudly chanting welcomes to everyone. Donna nearly knocked her over with her trunk. Unperturbed, the girl skipped away, and Donna glared after her.

"Don't be that child either."

Donna located a Marlene occupied compartment before she found an empty one, and so she sat down there, knowing that it would be Lily's preference.

"Wow, Bridget," marveled Marlene, "you've gotten so big."

"You haven't seen her since she was eight," Donna pointed out, dealing with her sister's trunk. "Of course she's grown."

"I know, but it's still a shock." She smiled at the younger witch—a much nicer smile than Marlene ever spared for Donna. "Are you excited to start school?"

Bridget nodded enthusiastically. "I can't wait."

Donna sat down, and her sister followed suit.

"Alright, Donna?" said Marlene. "It's been—what? All of a week? How was your last day at the pub?"

"Fine."

Marlene smiled slyly. "Anyone interesting drop by?"

Donna glared; "You've been talking to Black."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, shut up."

Marlene looked smug.

"Seen much of Adam yet?" asked Donna pointedly, and Marlene's expression fell.

"Funny," she said coolly, and her mood remained foul until Mary joined them, followed shortly by Lily.

"Did you get your fill of fresh air on the platform?" asked Marlene of the latter, as the Head Girl took a seat.

"Oh, yes, it was lovely." But even Donna caught the bitterness in her voice.

"Is—something wrong?" asked Mary.

"Oh, no, everything's fucking fantast..." Lily caught sight of the younger witch and broke off. "Hello, Bridget. Sorry..." she added to Donna.

"What is wrong with everyone today?" asked Mary, who—besides Bridget—seemed the only positive person there.

"What are you talking about? I'm unfathomably cheerful right now," deadpanned Lily.

"Obviously."

Bridget cleared her throat. "Well, this is fun, but I'm supposed to meet Millie Bones at the end of the car..."

"How do you already have friends?" marveled Donna. She, after all, hadn't had proper friends till... well... rather later than the first day of school.

"I grew up with Millie, Donna."

"Did you? Honestly? Oi, hang on a minute..." Bridget was starting for the door, and Donna got to her feet, "I'll take you there—make sure you don't get lost..."

She ignored Bridget's protests and followed her out into the corridor.

"Honestly, Donna," insisted the younger girl, as the pair pushed their way through the crowded walkway. "I'm eleven years old. I'm quite able to take care of myself."

"Aren't you... nervous?" asked Donna, surprised. "I was..." (bloody frantic) "...a bit anxious on my first day."

"Of course I'm nervous," Bridget replied, smiling over her shoulder. "I've got butterflies, and I think I'm going to faint every time I think about the Sorting. But it's exciting, too. It's... fun."

"You—you haven't had a lot of fun, I suppose, have you?" asked Donna softly.

Bridget didn't seem to understand the question, but she spotted her friend—a large-nosed, bushy-haired girl, whom Donna hoped was quite smart. "Oh, look, there's Millie!"

(12:00 p.m.)

Around noon, Donna and Marlene half volunteered to go find the food trolley and bring back snacks for the others. The first car, though crowded, brought them no success, and so they moved on to the next, bickering out of habit as they went about nothing in particular, until on the third car, by some unfortunate twist of fate, they ran into the very last people that Donna wanted to see: a group of Ravenclaws that, unfortunately, included Charlie Plex.

They were loitering about in the cramped corridor, and Marlene only sidestepped them with difficulty. Before Donna could do so, however, Charlie impeded her path.

"Move," she snapped.

"You didn't write all summer," replied Charlie, ignoring her command. "Didn't you miss me at all?"

His friends—there were two—chuckled.

"Why would I miss you?" retorted Donna. "You tried to get me in trouble with your girlfriend and landed yourself in the hospital wing with tentacles. Stupidity isn't a very attractive trait, Plex. How is dear Cassidy, incidentally? I hear her dumping of you was fairly entertaining..."

Charlie scowled.

"I've got a new girlfriend, actually," he told her coolly. "She's a much better shag than you ever were..."

Marlene laughed loudly, and the Ravenclaws and Donna looked at her. "What?" asked the blonde, scoffing. "I heard you're dating Clancy Goshawk. The girl wears her school uniform on Sundays. There's no way she's shagging you. You probably haven't even gotten to touch her below the shoulders."

Charlie looked as though he'd been slapped, and Marlene took the opportunity to grab the collar of his robes and pull him out of Donna's path. She stepped by, and the pair tried to make a hasty exit, before Charlie could regain his composure. They had no such luck.

"I saw you with your sister on the platform!" Charlie called after them. He touched on a nerve, and he must have guessed it when Donna hesitated.

"Please, let's just go," Marlene begged, but Donna was frozen.

"She's a cute little thing, isn't she?" Charlie continued. "I hope she lands in Ravenclaw—I'm sure we'll have loads to chat about!"

Donna turned on her heel. "If you so much as speak to her..."

"You'll what?" taunted the Ravenclaw, but Donna's fury superseded her will to put him in his place. "Y'know, I don't know why everyone's so afraid of you, Shacklebolt. Your threats are all idle. Tell me, does she know what an easy shag her older sis is?"

Donna made for her wand, but Marlene grabbed her arm.

"He's all talk," she said seriously. "And he's not worth it." Still, Marlene had to practically drag Donna onto the next car, at the end of which, the desired trolley was located. Donna had lost her appetite.

"He had better stay away from Bridget," muttered Donna, more to herself than her companion.

"He will," said Marlene. "And if he doesn't, we'll kill him, alright?"

That sounded about right to Donna. They joined the queue for the food trolley, but Marlene's reassurances did nothing to assuage the newborn doubts within Donna. When someone else joined the little crowd and spoke to Marlene, for a moment, Donna thought it might have been Charlie again, but, fortunately, it was only Adam McKinnon. He was accompanied by a tiny Indian girl, who must have been his new girlfriend, and Donna paid no attention to the pleasantries exchanged between the three of them.

What would Charlie Plex say to Bridget, given the opportunity? If she ended up in his house, would he make her life hell? Would he tease her? Would he tell her all about his "relationship" with Donna the previous year? Even if he didn't, it was quite possible that she would find out eventually—probable, even, the way people at the school talked...

"Hi, Shack," Adam politely greeted her eventually.

Donna nodded in reply, but the expectant silence that ensued told her that she ought to follow up with something else. The only thing that occurred to her was Quidditch: "Did you practice that position over the holidays?"

No one seemed to understand the question.

"The flying exercise that Potter told us to review at the end of last year..."

"Oh. That. Right," said Adam. "Yeah, a little."

Donna stepped out of the conversation as it was redirected towards Marlene, who stammered through poor explanations of the various domestic goings-on. Donna, meanwhile, having moved to the front of the queue tried to remember what Lily and Mary had requested to eat, but found herself ordering rather randomly, only pausing to deliberate over which bag of Bertie Botts' contained a more reasonable number of beans for the price.

"Feel free to jump in at any time," said Marlene to Donna, as she fumbled over a description of the protest at the Ministry. Donna wondered how it was that she could so coolly tell off Charlie Plex and yet not comfortably converse with one of her supposed best mates.

"But you're doing such a lovely job of explaining things on your own."

Marlene made a face at her, but Adam was still struggling to understand.

"Wait, Shack went to jail, too?"

"No, she didn't even bond to the fountain. She left when we all decided to do that. But she owled Lathe, so the aurors came, and it was fine. And then she came to Frank and Alice's wedding, even though she doesn't believe in them."

"Frank and Alice?"

"No. Weddings. Even Donna must believe in Frank and Alice, right, Donna?"

"I am not listening to your conversation," Donna confessed. She was wondering what Bridget was doing just then... she'd joined Millie Bones in a compartment. Could Millie Bones be trusted? Kingsley evidently thought her a fit companion for their younger sister, but Donna had not verified this. Millie Bones could be a corrupting influence. She could (and probably did) mean trouble.

This Millie Bones character had to be stopped.

"Alright, I'm done," announced Donna, paying for her items and making up her mind about what had to be done. "Are you getting anything, Marlene?"

"Er... no, I don't think so after all. You've got everything for Mary and Lily?"

"Obviously." (Hopefully).

"Okay." To Adam and Prudence again: "Well, it was nice seeing you..."

"Wait a minute," Prudence spoke up; "This might seem weird, but—do you want to have lunch with my friends and me, Marlene?"

"Er..."

"You don't have to, of course. Adam's going to have lunch with some mates of his from Hufflepuff, and I'm going to sit with my friends, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for us to get to know one another."

"Oh, well... I suppose, so. Thank-you."

"Lovely!" squealed Prudence, and before Donna could argue (because she had intended that Marlene take the snacks back to Mary and Lily so that she could go find Bridget), Marlene was whisked away.

Adam didn't seem terribly pleased either.

"It's your turn," Donna pointed out.

"My turn for what?" he asked, distracted.

She nodded toward trolley.

"Oh. Right. Tha..."

Donna did not hear the rest of Adam's gratitude, however, because she was already hastening back towards her friends' compartment.

"Where's Marlene?" Mary asked, when Donna returned alone.

"She's gone to sit with Prudence Daly," Donna replied, unconcerned.

"Prudence Daly?"

"Whatever for?"

"I don't know. Prudence invited her. Very energetic, that one..." Donna added, recalling Prudence's overly cheerful voice, "like a Hufflepuff more than a Ravenclaw. I bet she hugs people. She seems the hugging type. Anyway..." She dropped a few trolley items onto a vacant seat, "there's your food. Enjoy it. I'm off."

"Off where?" asked Lily.

"To sit with Bridget."

"Bridget doesn't want you to sit with her."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"How could you possibly not know that?"

But Donna did not have time to argue. Who knew what evils might befall Bridget, the longer she remained away from Donna's supervision? "I'm going," she announced, and did so.

She remembered the compartment from earlier, when she had so foolishly allowed Bridget to venture into dangers unknown, and Donna entered without knocking.

It was immediately clear that she had arrived not a moment too soon, for, there had been a new addition to the party: a little boy.

"Donna!" greeted Bridget cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to sit with you," Donna told her.

Bridget's cheer vanished at once. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just because."

She would have taken a seat, but Bridget jumped up. "Donna, can I have a word with you, please?" The two sisters went out into the corridor, and Bridget closed the compartment door, leading her sister a few paces away.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a loud whisper.

"I've come to sit with you," Donna reiterated. "It's not safe for you to sit alone."

"You're not sitting with me."

"Yes I am. Who's that boy?"

"What boy?"

"The one in the compartment."

"Dromio Prewett."

"I don't like him."

"You've never met him."

"That's true. I should get to know him before I decide that I don't like him."

"Exactly."

"So we're agreed."

"On what?"

"That I'm going to sit with you."

"Wait, I..."

Donna sidestepped her sister, however, and reopened the compartment door. She sat down next to the window.

"Hello, I'm Bridget's sister," she announced calmly. Bridget reentered, an unmistakable groan escaping her lips as she did.

(5:00 p.m.)

"I want to be in Ravenclaw," said Dromio Prewett, and Donna looked up from her book (Bridget's Level One History of Magic text... one of the only things available in the compartment).

"I think Ravenclaw would be alright," agreed Millie Bones. "Or Hufflepuff, I suppose."

"I don't know where I'll go," said Bridget. "Kingsley and Donna were both Gryffindors."

"What do you mean, were?" asked Donna. "I'm not dead."

"Obviously," said Bridget dryly. Donna shrugged and returned to the book in her hands.

"I think Gryffindor would be neat," Millie resumed. "But I doubt I could get in. Brave doesn't really sound like me at all."

"Gryffindor would be alright," agreed Dromio. "Anything but Slytherin, really. I've heard they're all a lot of gits..."

"Language," snapped Donna. She did not miss the exchange of looks between the other three, and finally, Bridget sighed.

"Donna, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, standing.

"Mhm."

Donna didn't move.

"Outside."

"Don't be thick, we're on a train."

"In the corridor."

"Fine."

Once more, Donna followed her sister a safe distance away from the compartment.

"I'm kicking you out," the eleven-year-old announced.

"What? You can't kick me out!"

"Can and am."

"I'm your older sister."

"Yes, I realize that, and you've been my older sister all bloody afternoon!"

"Language, Bridget!"

"See!" said the younger girl impatiently. "That's what I'm talking about! You have to stop that, and since you can't stop that, you have to leave the compartment!"

"But..."

"Donna," Bridget interrupted, pleading. "If you follow me around, I'm never going to find any mates. You're going to scare them all away, and you don't want me to be completely alone and friendless, do you?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Come on—you have your own mates. Go find them."

"I need to keep an eye on you, though."

"No, you don't. I'm perfectly alright. I don't know what you think you have to protect me from, but you don't. And you're certainly not going to do any good bothering my mates in there. Donna, I love you, but I don't want you following me around on my very first day... or any other day for that matter."

Donna sighed.

"Fine," she allowed. "But... but don't go wandering about, okay?"

"It's a train. It would be rather difficult to get lost, don't you think?"

"Just promise me, yeah?"

Bridget nodded. "Alright"

"Thank-you."

The younger girl joined her new friends again, and Donna considered returning to the compartment occupied by her own mates earlier that afternoon, but she changed her mind, wandering instead onto the next car. She walked with the vague intention of going to the back of the train, but—on the third car—ran into the food trolley once again, and decided she would rather like a bite to eat.

She bought a few chocolate frogs, a pumpkin pasty, and a bag of jelly slugs and turned to leave, but as she did so, she nearly ran directly into a Hufflepuff witch... in fact, the very last Hufflepuff that she wanted to see just now.

The girl's expression grew sour at once. "Oh, hello, whore," said Cassidy Gamp, folding her arms. "Still here are you? I heard a rumor you dropped out to work at a pub."

A dozen retorts—clever rejoinders that would have put Cassidy Gamp in her place—rose to the tip of Donna's tongue. A dozen ways in which she could silence this Hufflepuff menace with yellow hair and vacant eyes occurred to her, as they almost always did. In the long hours at the Leaky Cauldron, when business had been slow and Donna's focus on her ever present book hand slipped, she had imagined scenarios, where Cassidy had not hexed her from behind, where Donna had been able to point out that it was Cassidy's own fault she didn't realize that Charlie was running around on her—that her own naïveté had been to blame, and that Donna hadn't had any obligation to Cassidy Gamp, a near stranger. In those imagined scenes, Cassidy, a girl of average intelligence that Donna knew to be inferior to her own, always came out the loser: she would flush red and huff, before storming away, with Donna satisfied that she, at least, had now been given a chance to say her side of things.

And there, at the food trolley on the second car of the Hogwarts Express, Donna could have said it all.

But, for whatever reason, she did not.

"I'm sorry, Cassidy," she said instead.

Cassidy's blue eyes widened with wonder, and she blushed. "You what?"

"I'm sorry," Donna repeated, and it was more difficult to repeat; the first time, the slippery apology just dropped from her mouth. The second time required her to ignore her to ignore her protesting pride—to admit the one thing that Donna Shacklebolt never admitted: that she had been wrong.

Cassidy could not believe it. She continued to stare at Donna, mouth agape. Though Donna did not know it, the Hufflepuff had also imagined such a scene between the two witches. In Cassidy's version, Donna had given her signature scathing reply. Cassidy had countered it, and a long, satisfyingly mean verbal joust had ensued, with Cassidy at last winning out: pointing out some truth that would tap into the Gryffindor's well-concealed conscience... leave her in a stunned (guilty, perhaps) silence, so that Cassidy could walk away, head high.

Donna did not follow the script.

"What do you mean 'you're sorry?'" Cassidy demanded. "You—you can't just... just apologize like that... expect me to forget what you and... what you and he did to me!"

"Forget?" echoed Donna. "Why would I want you to forget, you idiot?" (That sounded more normal). "Your type is everything that's wrong with teenage girls." Cassidy scoffed, but Donna continued, "I certainly hope you haven't forgotten. I hope you've wizened up a little—all Hufflepuffs can't be completely thick, can they? Natural selection would have eliminated you centuries ago."

Cassidy blushed, stammering something incomprehensible before she achieved an actual reply: "W-W-Why would you even care?"

"I don't know," said Donna defensively. "I don't, I suppose. I don't care. I don't even know why I'm... I'm..."

"Apologizing?" suggested the food trolley lady, whom both Donna and Cassidy had forgotten altogether. Donna scowled over her shoulder at the elder witch.

"Nobody asked you." She turned back to Cassidy. "But yes, essentially that. I don't care—I don't' think I have anything to apologize for, but... all the same..." She hesitated again, and Cassidy, who had been too stunned to really appreciate the first two I'm sorrys now awaited a third with visible anticipation. "...All the same, I shouldn't have done what I did. To you."

"How can you say you've got nothing to apologize for and then say you shouldn't have done it in the same sentence?" Cassidy wanted to know. Donna glared at her.

"Hell if I know," she snapped. "You haven't ever had contradictions? Of course not. You haven't the depth. Merlin."

But Cassidy wasn't hurt by this. A smile grew on her lips.

"Stop that," Donna ordered. Cassidy ignored her. "Stop it."

"You actually feel guilty, don't you?" marveled the blonde. "You, Donna Shackbolt..."

"It's Shacklebolt, idiot."

"...You actually feel bad."

Defiantly: "So what?"

"Well I've never heard of you feeling guilty over anything," the food trolley lady spoke up again.

"Right?"

"Once again, no one asked y—how would you even know?"

Cassidy was beaming now, and Donna did not think she could physically tolerate another minute of this. "You actually feel guilty," the astonished Hufflepuff repeated.

"Oh, sod off," sighed the Gryffindor, and without purchasing anything from the trolley, she slipped by a still smiling Cassidy.

(6:00 p.m.)

There was no observation deck, but Donna stood at the very end of the last car, and through the windows on the door, she could see the retreating train tracks that stretched endlessly out behind them, as though the Hogwarts Express herself were leaving footprints.

She had been there for well over half an hour, but she dreaded going back towards the first car, lest she run into Cassidy again.

This part of the train was quieter than the rest. About a quarter of the compartments were completely unoccupied, and few students moved about the corridor, so when Donna heard footsteps behind her, she turned to see who approached.

For a second time that day, her vague fear that it might possibly be Charlie Plex was assuaged, as it was, in fact, Adam McKinnon.

"McKinnon," she greeted.

"Shack," Adam replied. "What are you doing here?"

Donna shrugged. "Bridget didn't want me to sit with her anymore."

"Who's Bridget?"

"My sister."

"You have a sister?" asked Adam, incredulous.

"It's her first year, yes. And three brothers, too."

"Really? Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just can't imagine you as an older sister."

"Evidently Bridget's not too keen on the idea either."

Adam grinned. "Oh, c'mon, Shack. You can't blame her. She probably wants to get to know people… you wouldn't have wanted Kingsley to follow you around on your first day of school."

Donna opted not to mention that on her first day, she had followed Kingsley until absolutely forced to join the other first years. She merely shrugged and changed the subject. "Where's your little girlfriend?"

"Coincidentally enough, she just went to go visit with her young brother, actually," replied Adam. "She's supposed to meet me here before we arrive, though." Donna nodded in response, her mind being rather elsewhere, and after a short silence, Adam added: "What did you think of her?"

"Think of whom?"

"Prudence."

"Oh, I don't know. Not much. She's very small."

Adam rolled his eyes.

"Well she is. She can't weigh more than a quaffle."

"Funny."

"It's not an insult. Some girls are just quaffles."

"And some are bludgers," Adam countered. Donna snorted.

"I have no problem with that. Bludgers go after what they want."

"But what they want is to knock people off their brooms."

"Again: I have no problem with that."

Adam smirked, shaking his head. "You're a strange one, Shack. How was your holiday, then?"

"Alright. Dull."

"What's this I heard about a protest?"

Donna shrugged again. "It wasn't a big deal. I left early anyway."

"And Frank and Alice? I feel like I missed so much."

"You did."

"Thanks. I thought you said it was dull..."

"It was, but a lot of dull things happened. I worked at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Yeah, that's what I heard. You and Sirius...

"Mhm."

"Did you two fall in love?" teased Adam. "Working all those late shifts in the romantic lighting..."

"Shut up."

"You're blushing."

"I am not."

"You are! Wait... Shack... did you really fall for Black?"

"Don't be thick. I do not fancy Sirius Black."

Adam considered her carefully. "But you do fancy someone?"

"Fuck off, I don't."

"Liar. It's not that Charlie Plex bloke, is it?"

Donna glared at him.

"I guess not. Who is it? Why all the secrecy? Is he married?"

"McKinnon."

"Fine." But he appeared no less amused. "So," he resumed presently, "Did you see much of your mates?"

"Sure."

"Yeah? And... and the Marauders?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "You're way off, McKinnon. I don't fancy Black."

"Right." Adam was quiet, and Donna wondered if she had misinterpreted the direction of his leading questions. Still, she couldn't imagine what he was getting at, and she didn't want to guess, so she changed the subject again.

"Do you think I should have been a Ravenclaw, McKinnon?"

"What?"

"Do you think I belong in Ravenclaw?" she asked, and when Adam did not reply at once, she added: "It's not that difficult a question; I don't know why you're puzzling over it like it's the sphinx's riddle or something."

"Well, I don't know," said the wizard. "I've never thought of it. Do you want to be in Ravenclaw?"

"Not anymore. It's Bridget I'm worried about."

"Your sister? Do you think she'll be in Ravenclaw?"

Donna hesitated.

"I don't know why you're puzzling over it like it's the sphinx's riddle," said Adam dryly, and Donna rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't really care where she ends up," the witch responded at last. "I wouldn't, except... except I don't want her to—that is... she has this idea of me. She thinks I'm... good. And I don't want her to find out otherwise."

Adam nodded slowly, seeming to understand. "You know, Shack, there is a way to guarantee that."

"Murder Charlie Plex? Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind."

"No," said Adam. "Prove her right."

"It's too late for that," replied Donna. "Anyway, it's not only that. There are other things she shouldn't... it's just... she's too young. I wasn't that young when I was eleven."

Adam looked at her with evident amusement for a few seconds. "A protective Shack," he then remarked; "this should be interesting."

Donna scowled but realized that in asking the question at all, she had opened herself up to ridicule, and she therefore decided to change the subject to something they could both discuss reasonably: Quidditch. They had mulled over roughly six matches and two significant trades from the Wimbourne Wanderers before Prudence Daly arrived.

"Hullo, Boyfriend," she said, craning to bridge the considerable height difference and kiss him on the cheek. "Hello, Donna."

"Hi."

"Hello, Sweetheart," said Adam, without a trace of irony. Donna did not even try to conceal her shudder at the sound of the nickname, but neither Prudence nor Adam noticed. "How was your brother?"

"Very well, thank-you. And how are you, Donna?"

Donna, who had resumed her idle staring out the window, nodded politely. "Well."

"Good. Have you seen Marlene this afternoon?"

"Not since she left with you. I've been with my sister"

"Oh. I was hoping she might have said something about her visit... I enjoyed it immensely, but I'm afraid Val was a little rude. I felt so awful, but Val's rude to everyone. Still, Marlene is a dear, isn't she?"

"Mmm," said Donna vaguely.

"So—so you would say you got on alright?" asked Adam, shifting slightly.

"Oh yes," gushed Prudence. "I just know we'll be great friends."

"Oh. Good. That's... good."

Donna wondered that Prudence could not detect her boyfriend's inexplicable discomfort, but the witch prattled on about the various goings on with her brother, without regard for Adam's somewhat forced smile.

"I'm going to change and find Lily," Donna announced, when there was a break in Prudence's monologue.

"Oh, bye Shack."

"Bye, Donna."

"Goodbye, Sweetheart. Boyfriend."

Prudence giggled, but Adam blushed as Donna slipped past them and advanced towards the next car. It was not until she had actually closed the door to the last car that Prudence's resumed conversation faded completely.

(7:00 p.m.)

"Firs' years, this way!" called Hagrid the groundskeeper, and Donna hurried across the platform, towards the group of complying eleven-year-olds, lest they depart for the boats before she had the opportunity to speak to her sister one more time.

"Bridget! Oi, Bridget!"

Bridget Shacklebolt sighed noticeably as she paused, waiting for her sister to catch up.

"I have to go, Donna. I promise I'll be..."

"No, listen," Donna interrupted, drawing her away from the others. "I'll only be a minute. I need to—I need to tell you something."

"Let's hear it, then."

"What... whatever... that is, wherever you end up, it's not a big deal to me. Alright? I mean, I'll probably be really angry if you end up in Slytherin, but the hat considered putting me there too, so... it's not the end of the world. Go where you want to go, and if that's where I am, it's fine, but if it's in Ravenclaw, then that's... not ideal. But fine, I suppose. But if you are in a different house, I just want to make sure that you look out for yourself."

"Look out for myself?" echoed Bridget. "You're kind of frightening me, Donna."

"Just—be careful. And don't worry."

"Be careful, and don't worry. Mixed messages, Donna."

"Be careful about everyone else," Donna clarified. "And don't worry about me. I want you to be happy."

Bridget smiled. "I know that."

"Firs' years, follow me!" Hagrid called again.

"I've got to go," said Bridget. "I'll be fine, though."

"I know you will."

Her sister hurried off, and Donna turned back towards the older students, scanning the queues to the carriages for her friends.

(7:40 p.m.)

"You know," said Lily, "there's a superstition that the house that gets the last student to be sorted will win the house cup that year."

"That can't be true," Marlene reasoned, as "Norris, Hermia" became a Hufflepuff. "Zabini was the last to be sorted our first year, but Gryfifndor won the house cup."

Lily shrugged. "All I know it what I read."

Orlap, Demetrius joined the Slytherins.

"Where's Stebbins?" Mary wanted to know, craning her neck to get a better view of Ravenclaw table.

"Merlin, do you have to keep an eye on him at all times?" asked Marlene.

"I haven't seen him since we got off the train, though..."

Riker, Audrey and Phoebe—sisters—were sorted to Hufflepuff.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere," said Lily.

"Will you lot be quiet?" snapped Donna, who was paying an unusual amount of attention to the new first years. "They're almost on 'S.'"

Robards, Oliver became a Gryffindor.

"Oh, calm down," replied Marlene. "It's not as though you're going to miss..."

"Shacklebolt, Bridget," called McGonagall, and Bridget shuffled nervously towards the front of the hall. Donna scowled at a few whispering fourth years nearby, and they fell silent as Bridget placed the Sorting Hat over her head. For nearly a minute, the ragged rim of the cap concealed most of Bridget's wiry black hair and about half of her nose. Then...

"Ravenclaw!" bellowed the hat, and the Ravenclaws clapped appropriately. Bridget hopped off the stool, beaming, and she waved to Donna on her way over, apparently unaware that she had done anything wrong.

"Bad luck, remarked Marlene. "But at least she wasn't in Slytherin."

Donna sunk down, propping her chin in the palm of her hand, as Bridget took her place at her new house table. Charlie Plex sat some distance away, beside his cute brunette girlfriend that Marlene had identified as Clancy Goshawk, but he seemed to be scanning Gryffindor table with his eyes.

Donna made certain that she was looking away before he located her. She felt sure she going to be sick.

"Toke, Leander" was deemed a Hufflepuff.

"It's not as bad as all that," Lily comforted, evidently having noticed her friend's queasy expression.

"If he speaks a single word to her," Donna muttered, and only Marlene understood.

"He was only trying to get a rise out of you," she replied quickly. "He hasn't the nerve to actually give her any trouble."

"Who?" asked Lily. "Who are you talking about?"

"Charlie Plex," Marlene explained. "He was on the train—he teased Donna about Bridget."

"You didn't mention that," murmured Lily.

Donna, somewhat unconsciously, had clenched one fist under the table. She barely heard the others' dialogue. Charlie had returned his attention towards the Sorting of Vasser, Bianca, but even the remnants of the smirk on his face, as he fiddled aimlessly with his girlfriend's hair filled Donna with the urge to hex him.

(8:50 p.m.)

Lily and Marlene walked on either side of Mary, whose reactions to Stebbins and Shelley seemed to be backward: anger first, and now shock. Donna walked just behind them.

"Why—why would he...? Why would Shelley...?" Mary choked on her words, however, and what she did utter betrayed that she was almost surely crying.

"He's disgusting," Lily was murmuring, glaring at anyone who dared to stare at them. "He's disgusting, and he's not going to get away with it, okay?"

"Hey, Shacklebolt!" called a voice behind her.

Donna tensed at the familiarity of the voice, and only a cruel sense of curiosity caused her to pause. The other Gryffindors shuffled around her, until Donna moved out of the queue towards Gryffindor Tower.

Charlie Plex caught up with her.

Donna did not inquire as to what he wanted, because she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to give him the satisfaction of any verbal response at all.

"Shacklebolt," he repeated, smirking. "I noticed that your sister made Ravenclaw."

She just stared him.

"You must be so proud."

Still nothing.

"I mean," he went on, "it must be nice for you to know that not everyone in your family is doomed to second best. Anyway..." He looked exactly as he had in the corridor on the train: "it'll be nice having a Shacklebolt around in the Common Room again."

He's all talk, Marlene had said.

"I'm sure the two of us will have plenty to talk about, your sister and I."

He was trying and failing for a reaction. He just wanted to know that he could still get under her skin. What Charlie Plex failed to understand was that he'd never had that ability to begin with. Not really.

"We have so much in common, after all—intimate knowledge of you, for one thing."

The two queues—one for each house—moved by and had all but past the pair in the middle. The lack of reaction from the one seemed to rile the other, however, and he tried to raise the stakes.

"She looks so much like you, Shacklebolt. It makes a bloke wonder if she's like you in other ways, too."

No response.

"...Should I interpret this stony silence as agreement?"

It was almost funny, how hard he could try so hard for a reaction, while others could obtain it without much effort at all.

"...Because I'm sure Bridget and I will get to be the best of mates pretty soon."

The sound of sweet, innocent Bridget's name on his foul tongue at last earned him some reciprocation.

"Charlie," she began, and his faltering smirk was reinvigorated at the sound of her voice (her defeat, he must have thought). "It's not going to work," Donna continued. "You think you can scare me, but I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of your threats... honestly, Cassidy Gamp is more intimidating to me than you are. You think you can get on my nerves and rile me up and scare me, but you can't... you never could. I never cared about you. I never wanted you. I never even cared enough to hate you. Most of the time, the sex wasn't even that great, and the conversation was worse." Charlie looked vaguely uncomfortable. He wanted to interject, but Donna kept on: "You've got your new girl, and your attempts to flaunt her do absolutely nothing to me, because if she's stupid enough to publically acknowledge association with you, she's not even worth my sympathy. But somehow, even I don't think that anyone can be quite that thick, and sooner or later, she's going to realize that you're not worth the effort, too."

"You'd better..."

"I'd better what? Shut my mouth?" Donna drew herself up to her full height, and it seemed to her that Charlie shrunk. "I've already told you that I'm not afraid of you. What you have to understand is that I'm stronger and smarter than you are, and you might think that you've got something on me, but I know that I'm better than you. I know that if you ever did anything... ever said anything I didn't like, I would get you. I wouldn't just ruin your reputation, and I wouldn't just give you tentacles, Charlie. I would completely destroy you ,and I would enjoy it. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll have the opportunity to do this, because I know that you don't have the nerve to actually do anything, but that's the real humor of the thing, because I do have the nerve. I got 'second best' as you pointed out: I'm in Gryffindor. You might be clever, but I've got nerve. I've also got borderline anger problems and an auror brother who could probably talk me out of any legal problems. So..." (Charlie's smirk had vanished all together), "...here's the plan: you don't speak to me anymore. You don't speak to anyone I know. You don't speak to my sister. You don't look at her; you don't acknowledge her; you don't bully her; you forget that she exists, just like you forget I exist, and if you don't, I will quite literally kill you." Donna smiled. "Clear?"

Charlie said nothing. He looked as though he wanted to, but could not quite find the words that could follow that. So, instead, with a hateful glare, he turned and followed the now disappeared Ravenclaws towards his own Common Room.

Donna breathed deeply.

At least (and it was small comfort) the day had afforded her one victory.

(10:00 p.m.)

The Head Girl's dormitory was warm and inviting.

Donna wouldn't have liked it anyway.

That, at any rate, was what she told herself, when she sat down on the edge of the bed, where Mary and Marlene already awaited Lily's return. Marlene had returned to the girls' dorm and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey from her trunk, and Mary had already had two large swallows of the stuff.

Eventually, Lily joined them. She looked paler than usual, and Donna even asked what that was about, but the redhead only shrugged it off.

"What was all that yelling?" Mary asked, and she had the courtesy to look a bit nervous, as though she knew that it might have pertained to herself.

Lily shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Just... just promise me you won't kill Shelley tomorrow."

"She deserves it," muttered Mary.

"Probably, but... all the same."

Lily sat down on the now crowded bed, and Mary offered her the bottle.

"I'm going to change first."

She went to the loo to change her clothing (alright, Donna was a little jealous of that), and when she returned, they all formed some kind of circle on the bed.

"Rubbish day, this," sighed Marlene. "Thank you for being better mates than some."

Lily smiled weakly and took the firewhiskey bottle. "Cheers to that."

Mary ranted for a bit. The others listened and offered their agreement. Donna mostly kept quiet, her brain filled with Cassidy and Charlie and Bridget and a vague discontentment. She was always happy to be back at Hogwarts, but something about this particular term seemed... wrong. Of course, she didn't want to work at a pub for the rest of her days, but now, here... she felt powerless. Useless.

She couldn't even look after Bridget as much as she'd like to.

"There's a definite possibility we drink too much," remarked Marlene eventually, drawing Donna back into the conversation.

"Or not enough," said Mary.

Donna took the bottle. The glass rim shone in the dormitory light, and she could almost see a bit of her reflection in the amber liquid within. "So what do you lot think? Worst day ever?"

Part IV: Marlene

"You Would Cry Too"

"You're hair looks so cute," Bernice Fletcher gushed.

"Merlin, I didn't recognize you, Marlene!" said Maggie Snow.

"Love the pixie cut, Price..." complimented Sabrina Barbery.

Even Shelley, whose changes to self were far more drastic, found it in her to compliment Marlene's haircut, when she stopped by their compartment that morning. So, all in all, the day hadn't started out too badly, but Marlene knew better than to have too many positive expectations for the first day back.

With her newly chopped off hair, however, she could not help but feel a slight surge of optimism. It was a new year; it was her last year, and she was... completely free: free of Miles Stimpson, free of obligation to anyone but herself. She wasn't alone; she was unconstrained.

And that was a brilliant feeling.

She didn't see Adam all morning.

Not that she was looking.

At lunch time, Marlene and Donna were sent out in search of the food trolley; they bickered half the length of the car, until they encountered a group of students that, unfortunately, included Charlie Plex. One uncomfortable conversation later, they reached the trolley and stood with the half a dozen students huddled around it, waiting their turn to order. Eventually, the inevitable happened.

"Oh my Merlin, your hair."

Marlene knew without turning that this commenter was not like the others, and Marlene smiled. Briefly, she forgot what must inevitably occur soon, but it hit her in full force when she turned to see the pair that stood behind herself and Donna in the queue.

"Adam! Hi."

"Hello," Adam McKinnon replied, and he seemed genuinely happy to see her. His smile was mirrored on the face of the petite Indian girl at his side, however, and Marlene made both her quickest and most thorough inspection of Prudence Daly to date.

Prudence made everything around her seem abnormally large. She was tiny, with shiny black hair and features that could only be called delicate. Marlene felt like a bumbling giant next to her, and that was only combined with the guilt she experienced for having claimed to hate the girl a month and a half prior, for Prudence's wide smile was nothing if not sincere.

"This is Prudence."

"We've met," said Prudence sweetly. "Nice to see you again, Marlene."

"You too."

"Your hair is adorable."

"Oh, thank-you; that's so sweet..."

"Yeah, it's so short," said Adam.

He's a bloke. He doesn't have to speak intelligently about hair.

"It is that, yes."

"Hi, Shack," Adam greeted Donna, perhaps to cut the awkward silence.

Donna, whose attentions were divided between Adam and the food trolley, nodded in reply. "Did you practice that position over the holidays?"

Everyone looked at her.

"The flying exercise that Potter told us to review at the end of last year..." Donna explained, bewildered.

"Oh. That. Right," said Adam. "Yeah, a little."

"Dear God, please strike me dead right now," Marlene silently prayed. "Please, please, please, please..."

"So how was your summer?" asked Adam to Marlene, while Donna moved to the front of the queue and began purchasing her items.

"Pretty good..." the blonde replied. "Spent the night in jail, cut off all my hair, it rained... standard things like that."

"Wait, you spent the night in jail?"

"Long story. What about you? America, yeah? Weddings? Fun and all that...?"

Shut up, Price. You sound like an idiot.

"Adam told you about that, did he?" spoke up Prudence pleasantly. "Oh, it was such a beautiful ceremony... his sister was gorgeous..."

Marlene found herself smiling and nodding to everything that Prudence said, but she had no idea what exactly was being articulated. Something about the weather and lace and bridesmaids and...

"Oh-my-God, Frank-and-Alice-got-married..." she blurted out suddenly. "I'm sorry. That was really rude. I just—I just remembered, and..."

Prudence laughed it off. "No, no, it's fine. Who got married now?"

"Frank and Alice," Marlene repeated, blushing. "Longbottom and Griffiths. Well, Longbottom and Longbottom now. Alice was thinking about keeping the Griffiths, but Mrs. Longbottom is really scary, and Alice didn't want to offend anyone, and she figures, hey, she's secure in her independence—she doesn't need to make a statement out of it. And Mrs. Longbottom's really scary. Anyway, sorry, the bridesmaids thing just reminded me..."

"Wait," said Adam, "so Frank and Alice got married? Frank didn't even tell me he was engaged!"

"Well, he wasn't," Marlene attempted to explain. "We were at the Potters. It was right after the lock-up thing... and we'd barely slept, what with being in a lock-up... and then—wait Sarah didn't tell you about the Ministry?"

"Sarah? Sarah who? Sarah my sister?"

"Right. She was there."

"Sarah went to jail?"

"No, she didn't... they already had enough volunteers. But she tied herself to the fountain."

"What?"

Marlene turned to Donna. "Feel free to jump in at any time."

Donna, who was debating which bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans contained more beans and was therefore less of a scam (as was her custom), merely snorted. "But you're doing such a lovely job of explaining things on your own."

"Wait, Shack went to jail, too?"

"No, she didn't even bond to the fountain. She left when we all decided to do that. But she owled Lathe, so the aurors came, and it was fine. And then she came to Frank and Alice's wedding, even though she doesn't believe in them."

"Frank and Alice?"

"No. Weddings. Even Donna must believe in Frank and Alice, right, Donna?"

"I am not listening to your conversation."

"Well, she does," Marlene insisted. "Anyway, it was... kind of frightening."

"The wedding?"

"No, the protest."

"What protest?"

"Did I not mention the protest yet?"

Adam began to laugh. "Marlene, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Shut up! I'm trying!" But she was laughing too, now, which did not make her explanation any easier. "The arrest... stop laughing, you're ruining the story—the arrest... no, the kind of arrest was be-be-because of... because of the protest."

"And the protest was because of...?"

"Alright, I'm done," announced Donna, paying for her items. "Are you getting anything, Marlene?"

"Er... no, I don't think so after all. You've got everything for Mary and Lily?"

"Obviously."

"Okay." Marlene turned to Adam and Prudence again. "Well, it was nice seeing you..."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Prudence; "This might seem weird, but—do you want to have lunch with my friends and me, Marlene?"

"Er..."

"You don't have to, of course," Prudence continued, and Marlene noted that Adam looked as confused as she felt. Prudence most have noticed that the blonde's glance in Adam's direction, because she hastily added: "Adam's going to have lunch with some mates of his from Hufflepuff, and I'm going to sit with my friends, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for us to get to know one another."

"Oh, well..." (This would be so much easier without Adam's eyes boring into her), "...I suppose, so. Thank-you."

"Lovely!" squealed Prudence, and—without purchasing anything from the trolley—she looped her arm through Marlene's and led the way back towards her compartment, only pausing a short distance away to blow a kiss and bid farewell to Adam. Marlene glanced back, too; Adam continued to look bewildered and Donna annoyed.

"I hope I wasn't too forward just now," Prudence Daly went on, as she guided Marlene (it must have been a funny sight, too, because Prudence was so much the smaller). "You see, Adam talks about you a great deal—I know the two of you are close, and, well, I can't help wanting to know his best mate, can I?"

"N-no, of course not."

"Exactly," said Prudence. "And I would like for the two of us to be mates as well."

"Well, of course."

"We both love Adam very much."

Marlene blushed. "We do?"

"Oh!" Prudence stopped walking abruptly and turned to Marlene. "Don't think I buy into all of those rumors! Of course, I know that you and Adam were only ever mates."

"Right," said Marlene stiffly.

"...I meant more like..." They began to walk again, "We both love him... differently. You're like a sister to him!"

And only one thought registered for Marlene in response to that:

I am an awful sister.

Prudence's group of friends was more varied than Marlene's. While Marlene, Donna, Lily, and Mary (and Adam) were all of the same house and year, Prudence's group consisted of two seventh year Ravenclaws, Valerie Turpin and Alexa Kyle, a sixth year Ravenclaw (like Prudence) Daniela Prentiss, and a Hufflepuff seventh year, Meghan McCormack.

Alexa and Meghan were nice enough, Marlene knew from her limited experience with them, and Daniela she did not know at all, but she was rather sure that Valerie Turpin was never going to be her mate. This belief was solidified when, upon Marlene's entrance, Valerie beamed falsely at her and said: "Marlene! Your hair! So short—just like a boy!" She followed this with a giggle, which she must have thought was merited due to the supposed subtleness of the jab.

Marlene arched an eyebrow, but none of the other girls seemed to notice anything suspicious as the two new arrivals took seats. Perhaps they were numbed to Valerie's particular brand of obnoxious bitch.

"It's very bold," said Daniela with more genuine enthusiasm. "Daring. Where did you have it done? In London?"

"Sort of," replied Marlene. "I did it myself, actually. Just... picked up the scissors and started chopping." She mimed vaguely, and Valerie, at least, looked appalled. "My mum touched it up a little, though—she used to cut hair for a living, so..."

"Well it looks wonderful," said Prudence. "So are you excited for classes?"

"What?"

"All the new classes... aren't you excited?"

Right. Ravenclaws. Smart.

"Oh, yeah. I love that... studying, and... books. It's... brilliant."

"Personally," Prudence continued, "I can't wait for N.E.W.T. level Arithmancy. I thought for certain I failed my O.W.L., but I scraped an 'O.' Do you take Arithmancy, Marlene?"

"Er... no. Never much cared for numbers."

"What's your favorite class?" asked Alexa politely.

"Um... I don't know, really. I like Care of Magical Creatures... Charms... and Herbology. Herbology's always fun."

"So more practical classes then theoretical?" asserted Prudence. "That's very sensible of you. Just like Adam, you know."

"Agrippa's sake, Pru," sighed Valerie. "You're always talking about Adam McKinnon these days."

"I know," Prudence replied. "I can't help it. I'm in love." (Merlin and Agrippa, that word again!) She smiled warmly at Marlene and asked: "So how was the holiday? Summer before seventh year is terrifically important, they say."

"Did you do any work experience?" asked Valerie, as if she already knew the answer.

"Er... no, not exactly." (She didn't think they would regard lending a hand at the McDonalds' grocery very highly). "You see, I'm not really sure what I want to do yet."

"No?" pressed Valerie. "That's odd. I've known what I was meant to do since I was eight."

Knew what a prostitute was when you were eight, did you? (Marlene did not say this, but she wanted to).

"Me as well," agreed Meghan McCormack. "And thank Merlin the Hollyhead Harpies don't require any N.E.W.T.s."

"Oh, Meg, you would," Valerie derided, and it was at least encouraging to know that Valerie was universally unkind. "But you must have... some idea what you're good at, Marlene... or are you planning on getting married?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive, Val," Prudence cut in, blushing slightly, indicating that she, at least, felt embarrassed for her friend. "And I suppose it must be nice not having every little detail mapped out. You can study what you like, without having to fret about whether it's good enough for someone else. After all, we're only teenagers."

The conversation moved from future plans to summer escapades (Marlene took some pleasure in describing some details of the protest and subsequent "incarceration") to just general preferences—classes, books, Quidditch teams, and music. Prudence liked Hate Potion, the Bluebottles, and Cockatrice (three of Marlene's—and Adam's—favorites), and even noted that she had taken to "some muggle band" that Adam had obsessed over. By the description, Marlene deduced she meant the Beatles.

As the talk continued, it became abundantly clear—and the irony was not lost on Marlene—that Prudence was her primary champion in that compartment and Valerie her primary adversary.

In fact, the only issue that Marlene could rationally hold against Prudence Daly or anyone else in there, for that matter (except Valerie Turpin, against whom she could hold a great many things) was that, despite Prudence's invitation to "have lunch" with them, no one seemed to be eating. At all.

It was quite frustrating.

Time wore on, Marlene's stomach growled imperceptibly to all but herself, and she found her attention drifting in and out of the conversation. Did they just never eat? Weren't they hungry? Had they already eaten when she came in? Was this why they were all so skinny? Well, no, Meghan played Quidditch... she had the Donna-esque athletic build, but the others must simply have starved themselves, because...

"Merlin, is that the time?" Prudence asked suddenly. "I was supposed to meet Adam half an hour ago."

"I should go too," Marlene quickly added, lest she find herself left in that compartment without her defender. "My mates will be waiting for me."

"Of course," agreed Prudence, as both girls rose.

"It was very nice seeing you all," Marlene added to Meghan, Alexa, Daniela, and Valerie.

"Oh, yes," agreed Daniela. "We really ought to have a Gryffindor in are circle, you know."

"Er... right." Because she didn't have the faintest clue what that meant. "Anyway, have a good day, then..."

Prudence followed Marlene out into the corridor.

"Thank-you ever so much for coming," said the Ravenclaw as they walked. "And I'm sorry if Valerie came across as... as a bit rude. She can do that, but she doesn't mean it, really. She's just shy and comes off as... abrasive." Prudence frowned: "Particularly to other girls."

"No, it's nothing," replied Marlene. "Um—thank-you for inviting me." They stepped through to the next car.

"Of course! I meant what I said earlier... I do hope we'll be friends. Oh, this is mine..." She pointed to a compartment that must have been ordained as the meeting place with Adam McKinnon.

"I hope so too," replied Marlene, forcing a smile. Prudence really was a nice girl... Marlene only wished she didn't feel sick to her stomach every time the Ravenclaw mentioned her boyfriend's name.

Prudence beamed. She hesitated for a moment and then wrapped her arms around Marlene in a terrifyingly unexpected hug. Marlene hugged her back, despite her innate reservations, but drew away as soon as she politely could.

"Have a wonderful day, Marlene!"

"You as well."

Marlene advanced forward, and Prudence opened the compartment door. As the former walked on, she could still hear the latter's enthusiastic salutations to her boyfriend, and Marlene quickened her pace.

(5:00 p.m.)

It was about half past three when Marlene returned to Compartment G from her expedition with Prudence Bloody Daly and company, but none of Marlene's friends were actually in the compartment, which was a little annoying. Their belongings remained, but the people themselves were missing. Marlene sat down, ate the remaining two Pumpkin Pasties, and waited.

Carlotta stopped by for advice from Lily, but settled for advice from Marlene. She came and went, and when she was gone, Marlene continued to wait for her friends.

She recopied her Transfiguration essay in neater handwriting, finished the Potions reading, and stole a book from Lily's bag to skim, and still the others had not returned to the compartment. She was starting to feel rather deserted and wondered if perhaps she ought to have been nicer to Carlotta, if for no other reason than the other witch might have kept her company.

She dismissed this thought almost immediately.

Since apparently Prudence's friends did not ever consume food, Marlene's stomach was almost completely empty, and it let out a protesting growl sometime around five o'clock. Her head ached a little too, so, grabbing a few coins from her own sling bag, the witch set off in the corridor with the resolution of locating the food trolley.

The corridors were busy, as others also grew restless at this time of the afternoon, and as Marlene attempted to move from the second to the third car, she was almost knocked over by the opening of the lavatory door.

"Oh, terribly sorry!" said Shelley, emerging suddenly, and closing the door hastily behind her.

"No worries," sighed Marlene. "It's just what I need to be hit by a door at this point."

"Where are you off to?"

"Food trolley—and maybe to find my supposed mates."

"You really shouldn't eat that rubbish off the trolley. It's awful for your figure."

"I live dangerously," replied Marlene. "Also I haven't eaten all day, and I'm about to pass out."

Shelley nodded. "That reminds me of the first two weeks of my diet."

"So many days ago..." agreed Marlene sagely. She was about to excuse herself from the conversation, when the washroom door behind Shelley opened again, this time admitting a bloke—some Hufflepuff sixth year that Marlene did not know—who slunk into the corridor, begged the girls' pardon, and—blushing but smirking—departed onto the next car.

Marlene stared after him.

"Did—did he just come out of the same lavatory you were just using, Shell?"

Shelley nodded, also blushing.

"Were you in their at the same time?"

Shelley nodded again.

"Were you braiding each other's hair?"

Shelley raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think so." Marlene tried to work it out in ill-functioning, unnourished brain. "So, you just—shagged random bloke in the lavatory?"

"Oh, no," said Shelley swiftly, as they moved to the sides of the corridor, to allow another student to step between them on his way to the next car. "We only snogged. And... well... mostly it was just snogging. Certainly not shagging. I'm not a tart, after all."

"Okay," Marlene replied, shrugging. "That's... fine, I suppose. I mean, it's better than pining after your mate's boyfriend, right?"

"I have no intention of pining, yes," said Shelley.

"Good. That's marvelous. And if Random Hufflepuff Bloke in the train lavatory is what helps you get over James, then that is a grand ode to feminism or something..."

"Get over James?" Shelley echoed, surprised. "I'm not getting over James Potter."

"You're not?"

"No!"

"Does Random Hufflepuff Bloke know this?"

"I'm not getting over James Potter... I'm getting James Potter..."

"I just don't see why you have to use both of his names..."

"It's all part of the plan," Shelley added proudly.

"Right, the plan," Marlene recollected from that morning. "But I still don't understand how Random Hufflepuff Bloke is part of the plan..."

Shelley laughed, tossing her wavy hair in the process. "No one likes a prude, Marlene."

"So you're just going to snog random Hufflepuff Blokes until James fancies you?" Marlene pressed. "I don't understand this plan."

"Don't be silly, Mar," said Shelley lightly. "I've got a date with a Ravenclaw later tonight."

(6:00 p.m.)

Marlene eventually did get her snack, and though the compartment was still empty when she returned, she took the opportunity to change into her school uniform. Then, it occurred to her that she might find Lily up at the front of the train, in the prefects' compartment, and she traveled there.

Lily was, indeed, hiding out in one of the two prefects' compartments, but—either naturally or by Lily's command—the other prefects who had elected to stay there were all in the other compartment designated for their use. Lily was left alone.

She had already changed into her robes and was deeply involved in a book when Marlene arrived.

"What're you reading?" asked the blonde, sitting down opposite her friend. Lily set down her book.

"Tolstoy."

"God. Why?"

"I like the characters. I mean, I hate them all, but I like them all, too."

"Whatever that means," said Marlene. "Have you been up here all afternoon?"

"No, just for the last few hours. Mary didn't come back from spending time with Stebbins, and Donna went to sit with Bridget, and there were these first years running around near the other compartment, so I came up here to read after patrols. How was Prudence Daly?"

"Perfect," sighed Marlene. "She really is. She's cute and energetic and fun. She's perfect."

Lily nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Well, what can you do?" Marlene went on, trying her very best to be philosophical. "After all, the blokes we love can't all choose wretched, vapid, stupid, and hideous girls... it would be too easy."

"That's very true," Lily agreed. She peered out the window at the slowly darkening sky and the blur of images that sped carelessly by. "We'll be there soon, I suppose."

There was something dull and uninterested in Lily's voice, however, that prompted Marlene to ask: "Are you feeling quite well? You seem a little... off."

Lily tore her eyes away from the window. "I'm fine; just a little tired," she said, smiling. "Now, come along, let's hear it. You must have something to say about your afternoon with Prudence Daly."

And Marlene certainly did.

Marlene was with Lily when the train pulled into the station, and Lily informed her that, as Head Girl, she was supposed to lag behind a bit and ensure that everyone disembarked alright. Marlene lagged with her, and, as a result, they were—for a second year in a row—among the last to catch a carriage up to the castle.

They rode with two stranger fifth years, and the trip was quiet... certainly different from the argumentative ride of sixth year, Marlene recalled, with Luke Harper and Donna both there. Lily was silent the entire time this year, and Marlene found it disconcerting. However, as the carriage rounded a bend, and the first sight of the castle became possible, Lily did genuinely smile, and Marlene wondered if Lily's quietness was merely a result of exhaustion.

They disembarked from their carriage when it brought them to the end of its path, and the two girls walked up to and through the castle doors together. It was as they walked through, however, that Marlene caught a glimpse of Adam McKinnon: not simply Adam McKinnon, however, but Adam McKinnon and his girlfriend—two among all the other second through seventh years in the Entrance Hall, but the only two that caused Marlene to stop in her tracks.

Prudence stood facing Adam, arms wrapped around his neck, while his were on her waist. They weren't exactly snogging; they were talking, nose-to-nose (somehow, for she was so short) and occasionally exchanging feather light kisses. They were both smiling.

"Marlene?" inquired Lily, who had not seen Prudence and Adam and therefore did not know the reason for her friend's abrupt halt. "What's wrong?"

Marlene only nodded in Adam's direction, and Lily understood the rest.

The full force of the thing hit Marlene at once. Prudence—Prudence was not Adam's Replacement Marlene. Prudence was more. Prudence was something that Marlene had never been to him, and the two of them were not mere chums... it wasn't just that Prudence would amuse him with her bubbly personality, and Adam would charm her by saying something adorable or clever...

The students filtered through into the Great Hall. Adam and Prudence disappeared. Marlene did not move, and Lily waited.

Prudence was allowed to kiss him, and he was allowed to hold her hand.

"Lily, I can't do this," said Marlene faintly. "I can't go in there. I can't... I can't look at them."

"Marlene..."

"No, I know it's pathetic, but I can't help it! You don't know how it—I mean, I just..."

The Entrance Hall was all but empty now; the first years would be along soon, and of the older students, only a handful—besides Marlene and Lily—remained. For the first time that day, tears formed in Marlene's eyes. Lily wrapped her arms around her friend's shoulders.

"Marlene..."

"What did I do, Lily?" she muttered, sniffing. "Why didn't I just...? Why couldn't I...?"

"You weren't ready," said Lily. "It's not your fault."

"It is though. I was so stupid..."

"No, you weren't. You were just getting out of one really complicated, really intense relationship, and you weren't ready to jump into another one. That's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"But it's not his fault either..."

"No," Lily had to agree. "No, he had every right to move on, too."

"Do you know what's awful? I wish she were evil. You know? I wish she were mean or stupid or... couldn't read or something."

"Harsh, Marlene."

"I know. It's not her fault she's adorable, sweet, funny, tiny, smart, has excellent taste in music, and happens to have the same name as a fantastic Beatles song, after all," sighed Marlene resentfully. She dropped her head onto Lily's shoulder. Lily wrapped an arm around her friend, leaning her own head on Marlene's and smiling sadly.

"Marlene, you are beautiful," she said definitively. "And you are funny, and brilliant, and talented, and you have fantastic taste in music. You know all that, right?"

Marlene merely snorted. "I'll never listen to the White Album again."

"Mar."

"It's his second favorite Beatles' album, you know. The White Album. Dear Prudence: track number seven."

Lily chuckled.

"It's not funny, Lily."

"It's a little funny."

Marlene sighed again. "You might be right. I deserve whatever I get."

"No. Marlene." Lily pulled away to look her friend in the eyes. "Don't talk like that. If it's meant to be with Adam, then it'll happen. Really. You have to have faith."

"Then, I guess it's not meant to be with Adam," said the blonde. "I bet he thinks he was a complete idiot for ever fancying me... and I must seem so... desperate. Pathetic."

Lily tightened her embrace around the other's shoulders. They stood like that in silence for some time. "You know it's going to be okay, don't you?" Lily asked softly after a while. Marlene looked skeptical. "It is," insisted the redhead. "Prudence may be cute and sweet... she might be Dear Prudence, but you're... you're..." Lily smiled: "You're Here Comes the Sun."

Marlene looked up at her. "You really think so?"

Lily nodded.

Marlene returned her head to her shoulder. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

She was quiet again, thoughtful this time, as she now draped an arm around Lily's shoulder, and they started towards the Great Hall. "You're Golden Slumbers," she said at length. "And Carlotta's Sexy Sadie... and Donna's... Eleanor Rigby."

Lily laughed at that. "Cruel Marlene."

"Eleanor Rigby is a good song!"

"So mean."

"Fine... Nowhere Man..."

"Meaner and meaner..."

"Oh, c'mon, you know it's true..."

Still chuckling, they walked into the Great Hall.

(9:00 p.m.)

Lily was compelled to depart for her Head student meeting, and she left them (Mary, Marlene, and Donna) at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Remus gave the password ("Marzipan"), and they were all admitted to the wonderfully welcoming Common Room. Marlene had not a moment to enjoy the return to the familiar, however, as she almost immediately had to usher Mary upstairs.

The second they were inside, Mary picked up the very first thing she could grab from the nearest open trunk and threw it at Shelley's bed. It was Donna's copy of Hogwarts, A History, and Donna at once hastened to pick it up, glaring in the process.

Mary sat down on her bed, disbelief etched on her face.

"He—he cheated on me," she said, stunned. "Stebbins cheated on me. This afternoon, he said he loved me and—in the Entrance Hall... he... he cheated on me with... with Shelley?"

Marlene sat down beside her. "Why don't you get changed, Mary? You can put on your pajamas, get comfortable, and..."

"Shelley Mumps?" Mary repeated, loosening her tie as though in a trance. "It just doesn't make sense. She's uglier than I am. She's not much smarter than I am... I mean, bigger breasts, but other than that, I can't..." She leaned over and pulled off one shoe. "I mean, I really can't fathom..." Slowly, she pulled off the other shoe. "...Why in Merlin's name... how in Merlin's name he could..."

"THAT BASTARD! THAT SLAGGING, LYING, SHITE-SACK ARSEHOLE! ...THAT CHEATING SON OF A BITCH! ...AND WITH THAT FAT, UGLY POCKMARKED BINT!"

When several pairs of shoes had been subjected to the harsh realities of a dormitory wall (and one quite nearly to Carlotta's head), Mary calmed down a little.

She was at last persuaded to take a hot shower, and Marlene—rather wanting to avoid another conversation with Carlotta, who was now the only other person in the dorm, besides Donna—decided to go wait downstairs for Lily to return from the Head meeting.

She took off her outer robes, but left on the remainder of her school uniform and started downstairs. When she reached the landing between the boys' and girls' dormitories, a voice called out her name.

"Oi, Marlene!" Adam appeared, jogging down the steps from the boys' dorms, now wearing pajama trousers and a t-shirt.

"Hi," she greeted, a little confused.

"I am so stupid," said Adam.

"Oh?"

"I didn't realize..."

"Didn't realize what?"

"The protest," he clarified. "It was the Dearborn protest, wasn't it? You were there? You were one of the people Rita Skeeter was writing about?"

Marlene grinned. "She actually specifically mentions me... she kept my name out of it, but she quotes me."

"Honestly?"

"Mhm."

"Wow. That is... brilliant."

"Well," said Marlene, "I am quite brilliant."

"Of course."

They both grinned, and Marlene, momentarily, forgot that it was not—and never again would be—like it had been once upon a time.

Then, she remembered. They both remembered Prudence and the I love you and that Marlene had said no, and someone else had said yes.

"Prudence is really, really nice," said the witch. "She's—really great."

Adam nodded. "Really, really great," he agreed faintly.

And then, Marlene had an epiphany of sorts. The two of them stood there across from one another, and both knew exactly what was going on—they both knew exactly what was going through the others' mind and were powerless to say anything about it. So they just stood there, like awkward, embarrassed idiots, with nothing to say and no way to communicate.

It occurred to Marlene for the first time just then that it hadn't been Adam that had wrecked their friendship. He hadn't ruined things with his "I love you" because she—all along—had known, and she—all along—had felt the same way. Their relationship had meant everything to her that it had meant to him, but she had been the one with a cause to deny it. She had been the one with a boyfriend.

Marlene wished desperately that she hated Prudence. She wished that Prudence was like Miles—that she was a cheat or a liar or—hell, if she smoked, Marlene would have found some solace. But there was nothing wrong with Prudence. She was sweet... she was the kind of girl who people called "sweet" which was even more important. She was delicate and petite and feminine and brunette. There was no overriding law to say that Prudence Bloody Daly was wrong and Marlene Price was right for Adam McKinnon.

The dramatic, eye-contact-filled moment ended as Marlene exhaled softly. "I'm going to bed," she said. "Goodnight, Adam."

"Goodnight, Marlene."

And that was that.

(10:30 p.m.)

"There's a definite possibility we drink too much," mused Marlene, once they were all upstairs in Lily's dormitory. It was her bottle of firewhiskey, so technically, if anyone was to blame, it would be Marlene, but all the same she felt as though she should comment. Her mum always said, If you need a drink, don't have one. Of course, her mother had two children from different boyfriends and was writing letters to at least one incarcerated felon, so perhaps she was not the best person to dole out advice.

"Or not enough," said Mary, flinching over a swig of the stuff.

Then Donna took the bottle. "So what do you lot think? Worst day ever?"

Marlene rested her head on Lily's shoulder, and Lily took her head comfortingly.

Wow, that is... brilliant.

Marlene, I love you.

You can tell me anything. You know that.

I want to be with you.

This is Prudence.

I'm sorry—I just... I can't.

"Worst day ever," Marlene agreed.

Part V: Lily

"Later"

(10:25 a.m.)

"Cool," Lily repeated for the second time, and the others in the compartment—James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Carlotta, and a few prefects—continued to stare at her as though she were crazy. She knew this, though she did not look up from the bag in which she attempted to locate her Head Girl's badge. It was odd that, while they all stared at her intensely, no one seemed to notice that she could barely concentrate on her task; she'd cleaned out her bag that morning, so it shouldn't have been very difficult to find that damn badge, and yet her fingers did not seem to be functioning properly at all.

Finally, she managed to focus and find her missing badge, and it was after she had set her bag down again that she commented on the others' expectant airs: "You want a blue ribbon or something?"

It was Carlotta who first managed to call it as it was: "I guess we were expecting a little more... surprise?"

"Surprise?" Better not try to explain about Shelley. "That you two crazy kids found each other?" She pricked her finger trying to pin on the badge. "Not at all."

Mercifully, further exposition was halted by the arrival of more prefects, and soon, Carlotta was gone—though not before she and James exchanged another kiss.

Before he left, Sirius draped an arm around Lily's shoulder and leaned close to her, muttering so that none of the others could hear: "Evans, I think you and I have some catching up to do."

"Damn right we do," Lily could not help but retort. He raised his eyebrows and then departed with Peter.

Remus took a seat beside one of the Ravenclaw prefects, and James stood awkwardly by, while Lily picked up the letter she had been reading before the Marauders' and Carlotta's arrival.

"How do you already have papers?" James asked, amused; he had his hands in his pockets, and his amusement seemed almost nervous.

"Oh, these are just the instructions that came with my Hogwarts letter," Lily replied. "Do you have yours?"

"Yes," said James. "Under my bed at home. Should I go back and fetch it?"

"You can use mine." She handed it over and wondered if her voice was too cold. James seemed to think so, but he did not comment. Lily, meanwhile, made haste to start up a conversation with one of the Hufflepuffs, and this prevented any other dialogue.

(11:00 a.m.)

The Prefect meeting went very badly.

The prefects themselves probably didn't notice much amiss, but Lily felt sure the entire time that she butchered the whole thing.

She just couldn't concentrate.

First of all, there was James.

Second of all, there was Snape.

It was a bloody mercy that the two did not speak an actual word to each other and an additional blessing that Snape did not speak to Lily, but that did not make the situation any less uncomfortable.

As for Severus himself, he looked much the same as he had two months before—pale and unkempt as ever. The familiar surge of pity that awoke in Lily at every new sighting of the Slytherin was predictably present, but it was not accompanied by either the usual affection or any other positive feeling. He only made her sad or angry now.

The reactions to both new Heads were somewhat mixed. The sixth and seventh year Slytherins seemed displeased. Colista Black sniffed indignantly at Lily and muttered something to the sixth year girl about "The state of Hogwarts these days." Still, she kept fidgeting with her hair and casting furtive looks in James's direction, so Lily did not think that Colista objected too strongly to both Heads.

The fifth year Slytherins, fortunately, showed no similar signs of mutiny, and, on the whole no one acted out, besides snide comments murmured almost inaudibly.

James, too, behaved himself, and when Bertram Aubrey was shocked and dumbstruck at his presence there, the Head Boy only smirked and winked.

But, all the same, it went very badly. Lily felt sure of this. She'd mispronounced the new Hufflepuff girl's name twice, and kept stumbling over random words. In the end, however, she finished discussing everything she could think of relating to being a prefect—from point deduction documentation to schedules for meetings—and James took over with his half of the presentation. He had agreed to go over the new implements, as enumerated in the Hogwarts letter, and he did so without so much as a stutter. Lily hated him, except not really.

By eleven, the meeting ended, and the prefects all filed out, except Remus, who seemed to be waiting for James.

"So how did I do?" asked the Head Boy. "Should I have led with a joke?"

"You did fine," Lily admitted. "Especially considering you've never been to a prefects' meeting."

"Rub it in, why don't you?"

Lily smiled politely, rather than quipping in reply. James evidently sensed something must be amiss by her lack of bantering retort, and so he offered to help her carry her things—which consisted of her sling purse and a book—and, for a moment, Lily felt incredibly trapped.

"I'll do it," Remus volunteered suddenly. "I'm sure you want to get back to the compartment."

Lily did not think she'd ever appreciated Remus more than in that moment.

"Oh. Okay..." James started to leave, and then hesitated. "Moony, can you give us a minute?" he asked.

"Well, I..."

"Moony."

Remus shrugged. "Have it your way."

When they were alone, James slid the compartment door closed, and Lily raised her eyebrows innocently. "What's up?"

"At the risk of sounding like a complete girl," began the Head Boy, "are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry with you?"

"Because—because I didn't tell you about Carlotta. And... because I'm seeing Carlotta."

"James—we were at a protest. When exactly would you have brought up Carlotta? And why would I be angry that you're seeing Carlotta?"

"Well I know... I know you've had some issues with her in the past."

"In the past," echoed Lily firmly. She shrugged. "I was Maid of Honor in Frank and Alice's wedding last week... I think any hard feelings I might have against Carlotta for that are somewhat irrelevant at this point."

"Oh." James nodded awkwardly. "So—so you're not angry?"

"Nope."

"Okay."

"Okay."

James opened the compartment door. "Well—have a good one, Lily."

"Bye." She waved nonchalantly, as James turned and left. Remus had waited for her in the corridor, and he now replaced James in the compartment.

"Shall I carry your bag for you?" asked the Marauder, his mouth twitching as he restrained a smile. Lily rolled her eyes, but she too saw the humor in it.

"I think I can handle it." She did not at once make to leave, however.

"What's wrong?"

"Is James still out there?" asked the Head Girl in an undertone.

Remus arched an eyebrow. "Probably. Carlotta and Shelley were waiting for him at the end of the car."

"Can we wait a minute?"

"You're avoiding him now?"

"I just don't like watching people snog."

Remus made a face. "You don't think they'll... snog a lot... in front of... y'know... people?"

"They're seventeen. Of course they will."

"Bloody hell," sighed the Marauder.

(1:00 p.m.)

She had been his first kiss.

That is, Carlotta had been James's first kiss. It might have been visa versa, too.

Lily reflected on this fact as she bit a jelly slug in half and stared out the window. Fields passed by in a blur, and Mary was talking—either to Lily or to herself—but the Head Girl was having trouble focusing.

Carlotta had been James's first kiss. How odd it was that Lily had never made the connection before... never realized that they really did fit together in their own way. Carlotta was direct; she didn't trouble herself about other people's feelings, and she liked laughter and attention. James was largely the same.

They looked very nice together, too, except that Carlotta was too short for him. Still, it was inconceivable that Carlotta could look bad with anyone. That might have been visa versa as well.

It made a strange kind of sense, and Lily wondered why she had never thought of it before. Then again, she had never really connected James with anyone in her mind before. He had dated that weird Sarah girl back in fifth year for a while, and there had been a slew of others linked to him (either by reality or rumor), but—and perhaps it was because it was Carlotta—this new relationship seemed so much more real to Lily.

No, Lily had never thought of James really with anyone before, but she could not deny that Carlotta made sense.

"Lily."

Lily started. "What?"

"I said..." and it was Mary, "...would you pass the Jelly Slugs?"

"Oh. Right." She handed over the candy and thought it best to pay a little more attention to the conversation at hand.

(3:30 p.m.)

"We'll have to figure something out," Lily mused to Remus, as they finished up their perfectly duty of patrolling the corridors. "You don't think James minded being excluded from the rounds?"

"I have never known Prongs to mind being excluded from work," replied Remus lightly.

"Right. All the same, the odd number of prefects and head students this year is rather awkward."

"I'm sure we'll work something out, though," agreed Remus. They started back towards Remus's compartment—the one he currently shared with the other Marauders, Carlotta, and Shelley. Lily shuddered to think what that might mean.

"How is everything else going so far?" she asked as they walked. "I mean—have you—have you... have you talked to Snape?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Lily shook her head. "He ignored me during and after the prefects' meeting. It's just as well. But I meant... because he..."

"No, I know," said Remus. "I haven't spoken to him though. The Marauders have mostly been keeping to ourselves, so we haven't had the pleasure of running into any Slytherins yet."

"Well that's good."

Remus grinned. "I thought you were the one all about trying not to assume that all Slytherins are evil...?"

"I'm also the one who's all about James and Sirius not going to prison for throwing some Slytherins off a train."

"You make a good point."

They changed cars, growing ever closer to the Marauder compartment. "How is it going with Shelley in there?" Lily wanted to know, for she had noted the girl's presence there when she came to collect Remus for rounds. "Is she... is she alright?"

"Why wouldn't she be? Oh, because she's fancied James since 362 B.C.?"

"Thank Merlin someone's not oblivious to that," sighed Lily. "Does James realize?"

"No, he thinks Shelley hates him. I never thought to tell him before, because I didn't want to boost his ego. She seems pretty normal now, though. Very natural in there... you don't suppose she's moved on, do you?"

Lily wanted desperately to repeat everything that Shelley had said earlier, but it felt incontestably wrong. She gave a noncommittal shrug instead and added: "Just make sure James is careful, yeah?"

"Right." He hesitated while they were still several doors down from Remus's destination. "Lily, can I ask you a question."

"Mhm."

"Just—just answer honestly, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Do you... I mean... have you ever... Have you ever thought that maybe you...?"

"Remus," interrupted Lily, "you're not asking me out, are you?"

Remus scowled. "No I'm not asking—why on earth would you think I was asking you out?"

"Thank Merlin for that."

"Do you think I have a death wish? Honestly, asking you out would be... what do you mean Thank Merlin? What if I really had been asking you out?"

"Nonsense, I knew you weren't."

"You did not! You were worried!"

"Maybe a little," Lily admitted. "But only because I didn't want to say 'no' and ruin our friendship. And I would have to say no, because Sirius would be bloody furious with me for trying to steal you."

"You're hilarious."

"What were you really asking?"

"Well, it seems kind of silly now that your vain mind has leapt to the conclusion that every bloke you know is in love with you."

"I can't believe you're still angry about that."

"It was literally fifteen seconds ago, Lily."

"Lupin. Focus. What were you asking me?"

"Well..." This time, Remus was interrupted not by Lily, but by Shelley, who opened the door the Marauders' compartment and stepped out into the corridor.

"Hurry up," coaxed Lily. Remus shook his head.

"I'll talk to you about it later."

"Remus!" Lily whined after him, but he was already slipping past Shelley in the corridor.

As he reached the compartment, he called back over his shoulder, "I can't believe you thought I wanted to date you!"

"Please!" she scoffed in return. "You would be so lucky!"

Laughing, Remus disappeared, just as Shelley reached Lily.

"Are you two dating?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Er... no. Just mates."

"Oh."

"Where are you off to anyway?"

"Oh, I've got a date," said Shelley proudly.

"A date?" Lily echoed. "It's the first day of school. And we're on a train."

"It's not that kind of date."

"What kind of date is it?"

"A Carlotta kind."

Lily frowned, trying to work out what that meant. "Shelley, are you going to go snog someone?"

"That's right," said Shelley brightly.

"Anyone in particular, or just the first willing participant?"

"Don't be silly," Shelley laughed, as though speaking to a very naïve child. "These kinds of things have to be arranged. I ran into him in the corridor and set up to meet him at the end of the train at three p.m. Plus, it gives me a nice excuse to leave that compartment."

"Wasn't it any fun?"

"Oh, loads. James... well... never mind. But I couldn't stay in there the whole trip. It would look like I had nowhere better to be."

"A fatal error, surely."

"Right. Anyway..." Shelley smiled again—she seemed nothing but smiles—"I had better go. But I'll... I say, Lily, have you been shrinking. You seem shorter than you used to."

"No, I'm just aging backwards," replied Lily. Shelley frowned.

"Oh."

"Right."

"Be seeing you."

"Bye... oi, you do know for certain this bloke isn't going to hit you over the head and take all your money, right?"

"Don't be silly, Lily." Shelley waved off her question and proceeded onto the next car.

"I'm starting to worry about that girl," sighed the redhead. "And did she just call me short? Merlin, let this day end..."

(7:20 p.m.)

"Lily, I can't do this," said Marlene faintly. "I can't go in there. I can't... I can't look at him."

"Marlene..."

"No, I know it's pathetic, but I can't help it! You don't know how it—I mean, I just..."

The Entrance Hall was all but empty now; the first years would be along soon, and of the older students, only a handful—besides Marlene and Lily—remained. For the first time that day, tears formed in Marlene's eyes. Lily wrapped her arms around her friend's shoulders.

"Marlene..."

"What did I do, Lily?" she muttered, sniffing. "Why didn't I just...? Why couldn't I...?"

"You weren't ready," said Lily. "It's not your fault."

"It is though. I was so stupid..."

"No, you weren't. You were just getting out of one really complicated, really intense relationship, and you weren't ready to jump into another one. That's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"But it's not his fault either..."

"No," Lily had to agree, her confidence faltering. "No, he had every right to move on, too."

"I wish she were evil. You know? I wish she were mean or stupid or... couldn't read or something."

"Harsh, Marlene."

"I know. It's not her fault she's adorable, sweet, funny, tiny, smart, has excellent taste in music, and happens to have the same name as a fantastic Beatles song, after all." There was something resentful in her sigh. She dropped her head onto Lily's shoulder. Lily wrapped an arm around her friend, leaning her own head on Marlene's and smiling sadly.

"Marlene, you are beautiful," she said definitively. "And you are funny, and brilliant, and talented, and you have fantastic taste in music. You know all that, right?"

Marlene merely snorted. "I'll never listen to the White Album again."

"Mar."

"It's his second favorite Beatles' album, you know. The White Album. Dear Prudence: track number seven."

Lily chuckled.

"It's not funny, Lily."

"It's a little funny."

(8:30 p.m.)

The walk to Professor Dumbledore's office was quick, as Lily's steps were quick; James hastened to keep up.

"If it's really that important, why don't you just skive off the meeting?" he asked. "I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't mind."

"Of course Dumbledore would mind," Lily retorted. "I can't skive off the orientation meeting. Honestly..."

"Will Mary be alright?"

"Sure, once she gets used to the fact that her boyfriend cheated on her in the Entrance Hall."

"You're being sarcastic."

"Yes, I am."

James sighed; he did not struggle to keep up with Lily, who was working much harder than he to maintain this pace, and that was frustrating. "It's just odd," he remarked eventually. "It doesn't sound like something Mi... Shelley would do. I thought always thought she was... nice. If a bit standoffish..."

"Well, I guess she's not standoffish," was Lily's sole reply, because she was just a bit annoyed that James did not grasp his own role in this at all. Worse still was the fact that she could not bring herself to tell him.

James was quiet for a bit, but he resurrected the conversation as they headed into the wing of the castle in which Dumbledore's office was located. "So, what exactly is this meeting about?"

"I don't know," replied Lily. "Probably just to give us general instructions. Maybe to chat about the Head dormitories."

"Oi! That's right! I get my own room!"

"Did you forget?"

"It hadn't occurred to me. Will it just appear at the top of the stair, like it did for Frank?"

Lily nodded. "And there will be one on the girls' end of the tower, too."

"Do we get our own Common Room?"

"What?"

"Our own Common Room."

Lily frowned. "No. Where on earth did you get that idea?"

"I don't know," admitted James. "I feel like I read it somewhere."

"Cockroach Clusters."

Professor Dumbledore sat at his great desk, hands folded atop its surface, while the red and gold bird at his side sang an odd kind of melody. Nervously, Lily approached the two vacant seats that the headmaster indicated, and she cursed the easy calmness that James positively exuded. How did he do that?

Practice, most likely. He'd had more visits to the Headmaster's office in his time than just about everyone else in the school combined.

"Miss Evans, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore greeted them cheerfully as the two head students sat down. "I trust everything went smoothly on the train this morning?"

"Very smoothly," said Lily, and James nodded.

"And I trust the both of you had very enjoyable holidays?"

"We sort of got arrested!" said James proudly. "Although, I suppose you've heard all about that. Dad's a right old gossip."

"I did hear of your exploits in the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore confirmed, smiling beneath his heavy silver beard. For a moment, Lily thought he might elaborate—that he might have some other comment, or information to share, but he returned the topic to issues at hand. "And this arrangement," he said, "the two of you feel that you will be able to work together efficiently and mutually beneficially?"

"I'll try not to weigh her down," said James.

"I am certain that will not be the case," replied Dumbledore, and Lily nodded earnestly. James quirked an eyebrow at the urgency of her reaction, but she did not care: it was more important that he understand that, at least.

"Very well," continued Dumbledore, now businesslike. "There are a number of duties the two of you will have as Head Boy and Girl. Coordinating with the Quidditch Captains over scheduling of the pitch, overseeing point deduction documentation, for example. Lily, I believe, as a prefect will be familiar with much of that, but there is a full list of responsibilities in the Head offices on the fourth floor, which Professor McGonagall will review with you at your earliest convenience. There are some other tasks, however, which are new this year—two in particular. First, starting next week, sixth and seventh year prefects will take evening corridor patrol shifts from eight o'clock curfew to eleven o'clock. Again, Professor McGonagall will review this with you in greater detail soon, but I hoped to give you advance notice, as it will constitute a significant increase in your workload. As N.E.W.T. students, you know that this workload is already considerable, but I believe the two of you up to the task. Am I correct?"

"I suppose so..." said Lily uncertainly.

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" was James's reply.

Dumbledore nodded. "The second new task I have for you," he continued, "involves Madam Keepdown."

"Please say you're not making the Head students go to those rubbish counseling meetings?" pleaded James, and Lily smothered a chuckle. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again.

"No, James, I'm afraid that those are Ministry mandated... given the dramatic events of last year. However, I hope that you two will keep me informed of how you feel those weekly sessions run. If you feel they are beneficial to the students... if there is anything you feel is particularly detrimental... I hope you will keep me informed."

Lily exchanged the briefest of looks with the Head Boy. "Are you asking us to spy on Madam Keepdown?"

"Of course not, Miss Evans. Madam Keepdown is fully aware that she will undergo student evaluation. Indeed, the dear lady invited it."

"Are we not allowed to say they're rubbish, then?" asked James.

"Rather not until you have actually experienced a meeting or two first," the headmaster replied. "Now, to other business..."

They started back towards the Common Room. James didn't say anything at first, and Lily was not in the mood to start a conversation. She crossed her arms and quickened her pace just a bit.

"Is something bothering you?" asked James suddenly.

Merlin and Agrippa, what do you think?

"Nope."

"Convincing."

Lily just rolled her eyes, but she walked ahead of him, so he did not see.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hastening his own steps to walk in line with her.

"Nothing."

"Snaps..."

"Nothing's wrong. Just leave it alone, alright?"

For the length of one corridor, James complied. Then, as though he couldn't help himself: "Oh, c'mon, Evans—do you really hate Carlotta that much?"

"Excuseme?"

"You've been weird all day, and I'm sorry: 'Cool?' That's all I get? Not even a 'Congratulations,' or..."

Lily stopped walking. "Excuse me?" she repeated. "You're angry that I'm not enthusiastic enough about your relationship? What, you want me to throw you a party with balloons and streamers?"

"Lay off, Evans, that's not what I..."

"You're an idiot."

"What?"

"I said 'you're an idiot.'"

"I heard what you said! Why am I an idiot?"

Lily did not think she had it in her to answer, however. She merely shook her head in disbelief and continued down the corridor.

"Evans! C'mon don't..." James caught up with her, pulling her to a stop. When he did not immediately remove his hand from her arm, she glared, and he withdrew it at once. "Why are you...?"

And then it was all too much.

We're dating.

They're kind of perfect for each other.

Just close enough to....

"Why didn't you tell me you were dating Carlotta?" Lily snapped, before she could help herself.

James dropped his gaze. "I—I didn't... it didn't come up."

"It didn't come up?" (This, practically shouted), "Really? Because I have this weird memory of sitting in an office with you and asking how your trip went, and you just said 'fine,' and then you got all snippy with me, like you always do when you're hiding something, and oh-my-Merlin, how could I be so stupid?" It began to make sense, "I thought it was just the Head Boy thing, but... Agrippa's sake, that was what Sirius was trying to get you to tell me, too, wasn't it? And Sam... 'the ginger but not the girl...' I am such an idiot! How did I not realize?"

"You're not an idiot, I just..."

"We spent two consecutive days almost constantly in each other's presence, and yet you didn't mention once during that time that you were practically engaged to my roommate!"

"I'm not practically engaged, Evans."

"Right, so if you were filling out a form for something, and it had two little boxes and you had to check one—single or taken, you would check...?"

"Are you done, Snaps?"

"No, don't you 'Snaps' me," bit Lily, the anger inside of her bubbling up, intense and uncontainable. "I'm annoyed with you. You deceived me..."

"We were at a protest," argued James. "When exactly was I supposed to bring up my love life without sounding like a complete prat? It didn't come up!"

"You mean, I didn't explicitly ask you if you were dating Carlotta Meloni? Well, that's true, I guess. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure you could have surreptitiously snuck it in on any number of occasions, including the time I specifically asked about your trip! It seems like, I don't know, you might have managed at least to give me a 'Well, pretty good, Lily; nice weather and all that, and I'm shagging Carlotta Meloni, so that's always fun.'"

"Lily..."

But Lily did not give him any other opportunity to defend himself. She supposed he might have had a perfectly reasonable excuse, but she did not want to hear it, and so she turned on her heel and walked quickly away. He said her name twice more, but she didn't turn, and he did not pursue.

Except when she delivered the password to the Fat Lady—and James was still far behind—Lily did not pause once, all the way up to her dormitory. She ignored everyone in the Common Room and barely hesitated at the door to the seventh year girls' dormitory. She continued to ascend the stair, which had not extended so far the year prior, and threw open the door at the top, barely registering the little bronze plaque engraved with the words "Head Girl" that was situated upon it.

It was a lovely room. Spacious, if simple, it was at least the size of the girls' dormitory in which Lily had spent the last six years, and the thought that she had it all to herself would have—under any other circumstances—excited her.

The walls were paneled with honey colored wood, a shade lighter than the great desk near the door to her own private bath. The dormitory was circular, and a large window—with a cushion-covered bench—overlooked the darkened Hogwarts grounds. The stone floor was partially concealed by a round rug, which was the same shade of scarlet as the thick and inviting comforter on her bed. The curtains on the window, however, were a soft cream color, like the pillows on the bed.

The entire room had lit up upon her entrance, and yet none of these details had any effect upon Lily. She barely saw them, for suddenly her eyes were blurred by tears.

Her breathing grew heavy and staggered. She fell back against the closed door and pushed her hair away from her face, forcibly attempting to fend off the attack of panic that quickened her heart and made her head spin.

No good at all.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was there something you needed?"

This was Mary's voice, and Lily, resolutely dry-eyed, entered a very tense version of the seventh year girls' dormitory. Mary and Marlene faced Shelley. Mary looked furious, and Shelley was blushing, stammering some response. Marlene was the only one who noticed Lily's arrival.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, almost out of habit, stepping towards Mary and Marlene.

"Nothing," said Mary, and there was a cold, spiteful bite in her tone that Lily could not remember ever having heard from the brunette before. "Shelley was just on her way out."

Right. Caught up in her own drama for a moment, Lily had almost forgotten about the Shelley and Stebbins debacle. Shelley looked as though she were about to comply with the order, but Lily wrapped an arm around Mary's shoulder. "No, Shell, ignore her," she said, somewhat wearily. She thought quickly. "C'mon, Mare, I've got a room all to myself. We'll have a... sleepover or something."

Still glaring, Mary assented and departed with Marlene.

"The door's open—I'll be along in a minute," Lily called after them. She was, momentarily, left alone with Shelley, until Carlotta emerged from the lavatory. She still wore her uniform.

The three girls stood there, somewhat awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Shelley," sighed Lily. "Mary's not... I mean... I know you didn't know she was with Stebbins..." Actually, she had no idea if this was true. Honestly, she didn't care. She just... she just wanted everyone to be quiet.

"Of course she didn't know," Carlotta spoke up earnestly. "Shelley wouldn't—Shelly wouldn't intentionally try to snog another girl's boyfriend... would you, Shell?"

All the shyness that had prevailed in Shelley when Mary had been in the room suddenly vanished. It might have been the final straw, or maybe she had intended this all along.

"Not like you," she snapped, rounding on Carlotta. "You would do it—you have done it, without blinking an eye."

"Shell..."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Shelley shouted, and Carlotta blanched noticeably. The room seemed to grow still around Shelley. "HOW COULD YOU? You knew! You've always known that I was in love with him, and you just—did you even care?"

"You... you never... said anything to him..."

"That shouldn't have mattered to you! You were supposed to be my best friend, but you—you didn't really care about my feelings at all! You knew, and you went ahead anyway!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you..."

"Of course you did!" Shelley shrieked. "You don't care about anyone but yourself! It must have been... it must have been so exciting for you to land James Potter! You must have thought that... that stupid, mousy little Shelley wouldn't say anything! Like—like in fourth year, when you kissed him... you must have thought I'd stay in line and behave! But I'm not going to! I'm not going to be your stupid little sidekick anymore! I'm done with that!"

Lily wondered if either would notice if she left.

"I am done with you!"

"Shelley, I thought it was just a little crush..." Never had Lily heard Carlotta sound so—ashamed. She spoke quietly and desperately.

"YOU KNEW!" Shelley raged on. "YOU KNEW AND YOU DID IT ANYWAY!" A brief, chilling silence, and then she continued, more calmly, "but it doesn't matter... he's not going to want you for very long."

"What—what's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. If you think he's going to want a girl like you..."

Instantly, Carlotta regained her usual calm. She met Shelley's eye. "You think he's going to want you?" She laughed; Shelley tried to remain confident. "You think that James Potter is going to pay any attention to you, Shelley? You'll have to do more than lose a little weight for that to happen..."

Shelley actually lunged at Carlotta, but Lily stepped in.

"Stop it, both of you!" she shouted. "Carlotta, Shelley—you two have to get a grip. He's just a boy."

"He's not just a boy!" Shelley snapped. "He's the boy that I'm in love with..."

"He doesn't fancy you, Shelley," retorted Carlotta. "He fancies me."

"Not for very long! I listened to every story you ever told me, Carlotta! I know all of the awful things you've done, and those aren't the qualities that a bloke wants in a girlfriend!"

"Then why are you trying so hard to be me?" Carlotta shrieked.

"I don't want to be you! You would have failed potions last year, if you hadn't given Robbie Castle a hand job to do your homework for you!"

"At least I'm not a whining, simpering little fool, who thinks that the only reason her pathetic crush never worked out is because she was ugly! Truth is, Shelley—he wouldn't have fancied you even if you hadn't resembled a deformed hippogriff!"

Shelley gasped, and tried once more to reach Carlotta, unsuccessful yet again due to Lily.

"I'm serious, stop it," she snapped.

"Stay out of this, Lily!" barked Shelley.

"I'm not going to let you kill each other!"

"This is none of your business! Stop meddling!"

Lily rolled her eyes. She stepped back. "Fine. Tear each other's hair out—see if I care." Lily moved back towards the door and fully intended on leaving, except that a small part of her wanted to stay—to hear what was left to be said. Both Carlotta and Shelley were quiet for few seconds, and then, bitterly, Shelley spoke.

"I just couldn't believe that you would do that to me," she muttered, and there were tears in her eyes. "You knew..."

"I knew that you fancied a boy whom you had scarcely spoken two words to in six years," Carlotta interrupted, also tearful. "I knew that he liked me, and he didn't just want to sleep with me—he liked me. So, yes, I wanted to go out with him."

"He didn't know!" Shelley replied, her voice rising above normal volume once again.

"He didn't know what? That you would get skinny and be willing to shag him? First of all, you're not even that skinny. Second of all, he's James Potter! It's not as though he's never had options before, okay?"

"I see," retorted Shelley. "So you're special are you? Please! The only reason anyone would want to be with you is because you're a guaranteed slag!"

"And you're so much better now? You snogged Mary's boyfriend!"

"So what? It's not like Mary MacDonald isn't going to find another boyfriend!"

"You are such a pathetic hypocrite!"

"You're a whoring slag!"

And Lily could not help herself any longer.

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" she shouted; it was a volume she did not think her voice had ever actually reached before, and it silenced both Carlotta and Shelley at once. "You're both wrong!" she went on furiously. "Neither of you have the moral high ground anymore, okay? And y-y-you're standing here, arguing, like a couple of idiots over something that is so—so—so unfathomably insignificant that I can barely handle knowing that two supposedly intelligent seventeen-year-old girls care at all!"

Shelley and Carlotta looked disgruntled.

"Well," began the blonde quietly, "she..."

"Bloody hell, I don't care!" Lily went on as before, her voice shaking with anger, and Shelley flinched; "You are both wrong! What part of that don't you understand? Carlotta..." She turned to the brunette. "What the hell were you doing? You've known that your best friend was in love with him since first year—you shouldn't have kissed him, and you shouldn't have started dating him! You're not in love! You did it because you wanted to, and because for whatever reason, you are incapable of understanding that you can't do every single thing you want to do! If you didn't have to act on every single whim that you have, your best, and—might I add—practically only friend wouldn't be standing here shouting profanities at you!"

Carlotta dropped her gaze; Shelley looked momentarily triumphant. Momentarily.

"And you!" Lily turned to the blonde. "You're not much better!For someone who worships and adores the bloke, you don't seem to have a very high opinion of James! You're going to, what? Have a long, fulfilling relationship—get married, have babies, and live in his big, fancy house—based on your trying to seduce him away from his girlfriend? How is that possibly a good idea? And, oh my Merlin, don't even get started on Stebbins! I hate to say it, but Carlotta has a point! How can you stand there calling her a whore, when everything from your practically orange lipstick to the fact that you just uttered the sentence, 'Mary MacDonald will find another boyfriend,' makes you just as bad!"

"I..."

"NO! No, no, NO! I am talking now!"

Shelley faltered.

"The both of you need to get your acts together right now! I am done caring if Carlotta is seeing the bloke that you fancy, Shelley, or if Shelley is trying to sit on your boyfriend's lap, Carlotta. Whatever. But all of this whore-calling, and shouting, and making this dormitory miserable, and... and... snogging my friend's boyfriend to prove a point to each other—all of that ends now! AND..." she spoke over two attempts to interrupt, "before either of you say that this is none of my business, I am going to spare you the risk of getting hexed out that window: this is my business, because I'm supposed to have my own room tonight, and yet now, I get to spend the evening agreeing to repetitive statements about what a git Stebbins is! And, also, because the two of you are insults to the very word 'friendship' with how you're behaving! And, also, because I'm Head Girl, and there's NO SHOUTING ALLOWED IN THE DORMITORIES!"

She finished her speech.

Shelley and Carlotta did not speak.

At some point—and Lily had no idea when—Donna had entered the dormitory from the bath, dripping wet from her shower and clothed in a bathrobe. She looked from Lily to the other two, amber eyes wide with wonder.

Everyone was silent, and then Carlotta, her voice trembling, almost whispered: "I'm sorry."

She addressed Shelley, but the blonde had no pity for the girl who had stolen James Potter.

"I hate you," she replied bitterly.

Lily turned to leave before anything else could be said, but Carlotta beat her to it. She slipped out of the dormitory, slamming the door behind her.

Donna broke the silence this time. "Did—did anyone remember toothpaste? I forgot mine."

Shelley sat down on her four-poster in a huff; Lily sighed.

"I've got toothpaste upstairs," she replied. "Mary and Marlene are going to sleep up there tonight, so if you want to..."

"In the Head Dormitory? Yes please." And then Donna had taken her things upstairs.

"Shelley..." Lily began to say, but the other cut her off.

"It's not fair," she snapped; she was staring at the wall, twisting the hem of her sweater between her fingers. "Carlotta gets everything. She only wanted him because she—she knew I wanted him and would never have him." Shelley sniffed, a tear trickling down her cheek. Lily really did not want to feel sorry for her, but that didn't change the fact of it.

"I am sorry, Shelley. For all of this... but..."

"Please," Shelley interrupted, calmer. "Please just leave it."

Lily nodded, and she, too, left the dormitory.

Much to her chagrin, however, a small crowd of Gryffindor girls had formed outside the door, undoubtedly drawn by the shouting, and it was Lily's unpleasant task of ordering them all away. As the group dispersed, however, Lily noticed one figure remaining stationary on the other side of the divide between the boys' and girls' dormitories. Carlotta stood on the opposite staircase, a compact mirror in hand as she seemed to be rubbing the tear-induced bags under her eyes.

Lily turned to go return to her own dormitory, but Carlotta had noticed her, too, and she called the Head Girl's name. Lily turned, and Carlotta looked expectantly at her, compact closed now, as though she were waiting for Lily to join her on the other stair. Sighing, the redhead complied.

She ascended to the same step on which Carlotta stood, but leaned against the wall across from the brunette.

"You're kind of self-righteous," said Carlotta.

Lily sighed. "Kind of? As in, it's kind of my defining characteristic?"

Carlotta smiled a weak, watery, un-Carlotta-ish smile. "He was never going to fancy Shelley. Honestly, I was a little surprised he fancied me."

"Only a little?"

She shrugged. "I'm quite good-looking."

"So I hear." Lily sighed again, massaging her forehead to dissuade a quickly setting-on headache. "Does he know?"

"That I'm quite good-looking?"

"About Shelley."

All traces of humor vanished from Carlotta's impeccable (even in crying) face. She shook her head.

"He's going to find out. I assume you don't think all that..." Lily gestured to the dormitory door, indicating everything that had just transpired within it, "...went unnoticed by the mob outside the door."

"I know," Carlotta whispered. "I have to tell him."

"Yes, you do."

Carlotta nodded. She looked as though she were about to leave, but she hesitated. "You're kind of self-righteous, but you... you understand things, too."

"I don't understand this," Lily replied helplessly. "Why him? Why this particular boy? Why James Potter?" And she had the strangest feeling—she needed an answer, as though she were not posing the question merely to Carlotta. Carlotta's response, however, was not helpful at all.

"Because blokes like James don't want girls like me."

"Carlotta, they all want a girl like you."

"Frank didn't."

"See—see that's what I'm talking about!" Lily insisted, as a fourth year boy passed between them, on the way up to his dormitory. "Almost a year ago, we sat in that dorm and had that conversation about Frank, and he was the one. He was the answer to everything, and it didn't matter about anyone else, because you two were meant to be... and look how that turned out! You hurt Frank, you hurt Alice, and you two weren't meant to be. But now it's not Alice you're hurting—it's Shelley. It's your best friend! How is this any better than the Frank story?"

Carlotta seemed to think the answer was obvious, however. "Frank didn't want me. James did."

"But there must have been a bloke who wanted you and that your best mate wasn't in love with!"

"I know," said Carlotta, almost timid. "But none like James."

A few minutes later, Carlotta went up to bed (in the Head Boy's dormitory—Lily decided not to think about it), and the Head Girl returned to her own dorm, where Mary, Marlene, and Donna awaited her. Before she entered, Lily hesitated at the door; she took one deep, calming breath and closed her eyes.

"Get it together, Evans," she thought to herself. "For everyone else's sake and your own."

She opened her eyes and the door in unison.

(Approximately Twelve Hours Earlier)

Today was going to be a good day.

The morning sun shone gloriously up above, the birds sang, and the lovely, nostalgia-inspiring smell of smoke drifted across Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Lily sat on a bench on the platform, and her toes tapped in the rhythm of the Beatles song currently stuck in her head ("Ticket to Ride," because the Hogwarts Express had brought it to mind), while she hummed quietly along, watching the passersby with interest.

It was twenty minutes after nine, and she was early, because she'd just been... excited. Excited to be back at Hogwarts with her friends every day, excited to be Head Girl (to James's Head Boy), excited for the plethora of untapped potential that seemed so ridiculously imminent in this new school term. September was a wonderful month.

It was twenty-five minutes after nine. Sirius Black was the first Gryffindor seventh year to arrive.

"You know that you have to actually get on the train, right?" he asked, appearing rather suddenly to Lily's left and plopping down beside her on the bench.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I'm just enjoying the fresh air."

"This is fresh air?"

Lily merely smiled. "Your sarcasm can't get me down, Black. I like train stations. They are wrought with possibility."

Sirius grinned in reply. "Whatever you say, Evans. I'll see you on the train."

"Almost inevitably."

Then, with a particular spring to his step, Sirius took off, pulling his trunk behind him.

It was nine-twenty-seven; a third year girl had taken to skipping about the platform with the mantra, "Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!"

It was nine-thirty-three, and Lily continued to tap and hum, when Remus Lupin passed by, grinning and waving with more promises to see her on the train. It was nine-thirty-seven when Adam McKinnon passed, adding his own cheerful greeting, and nine-forty-two when Donna finally arrived, with Bridget at her side.

"C'mon, then," she half beckoned, half ordered. "I'll go find a compartment."

"Alright, alright," replied Lily. "I'll be along in a minute."

Donna nodded and followed the usual path to the train car, muttering what might have been explanations (but was more likely warnings) to her younger sister as she went. Lily began to gather up her things, only distracted for a moment by the sight of a young muggleborn bidding goodbye to her parents. By the glow on her face and the evident anxiety of her mother and father, the witch seemed to be a first year. Lily smiled. This kid had no idea what was in store for her...

In a good way.

Lily checked on Ira, her cat, and then got to her feet, preparing to follow Donna towards the Hogwarts Express. She had yet to take a step, however, when her eyes fell upon James and Sirius standing near a train car—odd, she hadn't noticed James arrive, but the station was crowded, and it was in no way impossible that he had slipped by.

For a moment—only a few seconds—Lily observed the two Marauders. The warm morning light caught the Head Boy badge pinned to James's t-shirt, as well as the amused glint in his hazel eyes. He ran one hand through his hair, shaking his head, and replied to some remark from Sirius with a few words of self-aware cleverness that made Sirius laugh out loud. When Sirius gave another reply, James listened, a crease forming between his eyes in subtle interest, one hand idly rubbing his jaw line.

Lily's mind leapt to an evening, not long ago, when she had stood close enough to fill the space and then some that currently existed between the two Marauders—close enough to feel James's breath, close enough to kiss him, if only she had let herself stop thinking a minute or two...

And then, for a moment—only a few seconds—Lily's breath caught in her throat, and she realized something.

She realized that her stomach was doing back-flips. She realized that a little piece of her ached to be standing close to the Head Boy. She realized she hadn't been breathing for several moments.

Lily realized she would very much like to kiss James Potter just then.

It was a moment—only a few seconds—of clarity: a realization that was immediately surprising and then quite obvious. Right there, right then, she wanted nothing more than to kiss James. It wasn't alcohol speaking; it wasn't just hormones; there could be no more excuses.

She liked James Potter.

She really, really liked James Potter.

Lily realized this... for a few clear, hopeful, comforting seconds, Lily realized exactly what she wanted, and it was the first time she had really known this for a very long time. She felt a glow of enlightenment, as one often does when they arrive late at self revelation—when they finally have a grip on what, exactly, would make them truly, ridiculously ecstatic at that instant in time. And what a thing to discover, that it should be James Potter... James Potter, who had liked her once before, and might like her again, if given encouragement...

For a moment—only about nine and a half thrilling, wonderful seconds—Lily was happy. People hurried past her, shouting and talking but mute; the train revved and roared, but silently; her heart pounded, the heat rose in her face. This was going to be a good year.

Then, into the frame of her sight which had now narrowed and centered on James Potter, a new figure entered. Brunette and lovely and flawless, Carlotta Meloni appeared. She wrapped her thin, sun-kissed arms around James's neck and kissed him on the lips.

And James kissed Carlotta back.

And someone walked by to punch Lily in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her for a full six seconds. Or if they didn't, they might as well have.

James and Carlotta.

James and Carlotta.

...

Mary skipped cheerfully by, but Lily choked on the air when she attempted to reply to her friend's greeting.

James Potter and Carlotta Meloni.

Together.

"Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" chanted that wretched third year.

This was... not good.

Not good at all.

(That Evening)

Lily had heard her friends talking—she'd heard every word of their conversations and understood none of it. It was late now, and she didn't have to be the Lily of the group anymore. She didn't have to (couldn't possibly) prop up the others. One by one, they went to sleep, and she was alone in her consciousness... utterly alone, because none of them knew (she didn't want them to).

She wanted to be really drunk and think of something else.

She wanted to sleep and not dream at all.

She wanted to be very far away from that place.

She wanted to...

Had every rejection (every "Not in a million years, Potter!") felt like this to him? She would have been so much nicer if she'd known it were possible.

What a way to start a year.

No good at all.

A/N: Too tired for an A/N. I'll blog later. Thank you so much to everyone who reads and reviews: you are so loyal and wonderful, and you make this so enjoyable for me.

Reviews are fanfiction all nighters.

Love,

Jules