Disclaimer: Copyright Jo Ro.

Before: Carlotta Meloni has a "reputation," but she decides to settle down and date James, which is problematic because her best mate plain Jane Shelley has a crush on James. So Shelley loses the plain Jane part and decides to get revenge on Carlotta, which, unfortunately, weirdly involves making out with Mary MacDonald's boyfriend, Stebbins. Back in sixth year, Marlene dated Miles Stimpson, who was a tool, and they broke up when he made out with Carlotta at Connor Plex's New Years Party. Sirius played that prank on Snape at the end of last year which caused major problems for the Marauders, but now they're okay. Lily realizes that she likes James... right before she finds out he's dating Carlotta. Also, the Ministry of Magic wants kids to talk about their feelings, so they've sent Psych Healer Madam Fiona Keepdown to Hogwarts to meet with the kiddos on a regular basis.

Chapter 31- "Carlotta Delenda Est"

Or

"Everybody's Trying to Be My Baby"

Remus Lupin sat down on the sofa in Madame Keepdown's office. It was an awful place to be, draped in gauzy cloths and smelling heavily of something thick and sweet that made his throat itch. There were candles on just about every surface available, and Remus worried about the cloths catching fire... certainly, it was a miracle that Madame Keepdown hadn't set flame to one of her ridiculously droopy sleeves in the process of lighting the candles.

"Remus Lupin," the witch echoed back at him, smiling warmly. She had a wide mouth, and the smile affected every inch of her face, revealing laugh lines around her eyes and forehead. Remus had once read that you could tell if someone's smile was sincere based on whether or not their eyes crinkled, so she had that going for her, at least. Sincerity.

"Hello," Remus replied politely. "Nice to meet you."

"And how are you this afternoon?" asked Madame Keepdown. She was seated in a large chair across from him, and she leaned comfortably back in it, her legs crossed at the knee and both on the armrests.

"Very well, thank you."

"You know, you're the first seventh year I've spoken to this year. I had a few fifth years this morning, but you're the very first in your year."

"Oh." Remus couldn't think of anything else to say, and so he merely smiled. He was certain that his eyes did not crinkle, however. "That's... nice."

Madame Keepdown's smile did not falter. "So..." She leaned forward in her chair, now. "What would you like to talk about?

In the morning, things looked better.

For Lily, at least.

And that may or may not have been (but definitely was) connected to the realization that she now had her own toilet and, more importantly, her own shower.

"I want you to cooome on, cooome on, cooome on, coooome on, and take it! Take another little piece of my heaaart now, baaaby—c'mon break it! Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah, yeah, yeaaah! Have a—have another little piece of my heart now baaaaby... you know you got it... if it makes you feel gooooooood..."

Shower singing was the best.

After a luxurious forty-five minute shampoo and conditioning extravaganza, the likes of which Lily had never enjoyed in the shared bath, nor had the nerve to attempt in the prefects' bath, she had a somewhat more positive outlook on the impending school term.

So she may or may not (but definitely did) have feelings for James Sodding Potter, and he may or may not (but definitely did) have a girlfriend, who may or may not have been (but definitely was) the loveliest girl in the entire school. So what? Worst things had happened. Much worse things. She would survive. She would thrive. She would be Hogwarts' best Head Girl since ever.

She would be taking forty-five minute showers all year, without having Donna bitch at her to hurry up.

Life was okay.

Smelling like green apple shampoo, Lily wrapped a towel around her torso and looked over her reflection in the mirror. She even managed a smile... and a pretty damn genuine one at that.

Still humming the Janis Joplin song under her breath, Lily moved into her room. She dressed herself with relish; her Hogwarts uniform felt fresh and new after a summer of disuse (except for the blouse and knee high socks, which actually were new).

Today would be good.

Really.

Or else.

The others—Mary, Marlene, and Donna—who had spent the night in the Head Girl's dorm had now returned to their own room to prepare for the day. Donna was entrusted with the task of keeping an eye on Mary, and Marlene was entrusted with the task of making sure Donna carried out her task.

Lily dried her hair and threw it into a careless knot; she did her usual make up, and then debated whether or not to pack any books in her bag. She decided against it, as she had not received her schedule yet and would be obliged to carry all of them around. At eight o'clock, she was ready to leave. She reached the door before realization struck her.

It was all well and good to say that worse things had happened, but James and Carlotta would be at breakfast. Together. After having spent the night together. In James's single room.

Her appetite vanished. Maybe she would ask Marlene to get her schedule... she really ought to stop by the head student office—just to check up on things... perhaps get a start on those patrol schedules...

Not that she was avoiding him.

She wasn't all that hungry anyway.

Breakfast was overrated.

Patrol schedules.

Right.

In the morning, things looked better.

For Carlotta, at least.

James, as it turned out, woke up even earlier than she did. He had disappeared for a run early that morning, and since returned for a shower and change, only as Carlotta was picking up her things to head downstairs for her own shower.

"You can use this one," said James, picking up his glasses from the dresser and putting them on; somehow, Carlotta liked him even better with the spectacles on. "Might as well, right?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm done in there."

Carlotta smiled broadly at him, folding her arms across her chest. "You're pretty fantastic, you know."

"I did, actually, yes."

She shook her head and walked to him, standing on her toes to kiss him on the lips before moving towards the lavatory.

"Carlotta..." he stopped her before she'd left, and she paused.

"Mhm?"

"We... I mean—last night. Shelley." James looked at her meaningfully. "What are we going to do about that? She's your best mate..."

Carlotta's eyes grew dark. Then she shook her hair, straightened her posture, and smiled a very Carlotta smile. "Well," she began, "Today's a new day. Yesterday was yesterday—in the past. And what's the point in worrying about the past?"

James nodded slowly, and Carlotta disappeared into the bath.

Something continued to bother him, however, and no matter what Carlotta had to say about yesterdays and todays, at least one thing had remained from the day before that required his attention. So, when Carlotta had climbed into the shower, and James was all dressed, he shouted through the curtain that he had an errand to run, and then descended into the seventh year boys' dormitory in search of the Marauders' Map.

(Potter Again)

Lily heard the footsteps in the corridor outside the Head Office; someone was jogging closer, but the likelihood that it was James seemed extremely slim. It could be anyone... in a second, their footsteps would pass by the open door, and she really needed to stop fretting over every little...

"Snaps."

Fucking hell.

Lily looked up from the prefect list she had been half attending to, her very best impersonation of a smile on her face.

"Potter. What are you doing here?"

James noticed the use of his surname—that much was evident—because the eagerness in his eyes died quickly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh." She held up the parchment; her heart pounded in her chest. "Patrol schedules."

James arched a skeptical eyebrow; "Have you had breakfast?"

"S-sort of. What did you say you were doing here?"

"What? Oh." James seemed to remember his mission. He mussed his black hair, perhaps unconsciously. "I wanted to—to talk to you..." Inexplicably awkward: "about... last night. I... I'm sorry. I didn't exactly realize."

Lily stared; she knew she must have blushed but prayed to God that James did not notice. "Didn't... realize what?"

James sighed, embarrassed. "I didn't—I didn't realize why you were angry with me about Carlotta. I thought... I mean, I... just didn't... get it. But now I do."

Her heart pounded in her chest. "D-do you?"

He knew. Oh God, he knew. How could he know? Had someone guessed and told him? Had he heard her shout at Shelley and Carlotta and interpreted elements of it that might have given her away? What had he heard? What had she said? Oh God.

"Carlotta told me."

"C-Carlotta?"

Carlotta knew? No. Bad. Very, very bad.

"Shelley," James explained. "Carlotta told me that... that she—y'know... fancies me. And you thought I knew that. Apparently everyone thought I knew that, but I didn't—I swear." Lily realized she'd been holding her breath only as she released it in exhale. Shelley. He thought this was about Shelley. "But the thing is," the Head Boy continued, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. I fancy Carlotta, and I don't know Shelley, and I don't think it's fair that you get on my case about dating her, because I've done nothing wrong." James finished and tried to look defiant.

Lily nodded slowly. She set down the prefect list on the desk behind her to buy herself a little time. It occurred to her that James still stood in the doorway; he was only stopping by—only for a few moments, to speak with her...

"Why are you dating Carlotta?" she asked, rather suddenly. James frowned.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"If you're dating her because you think she's an easy shag..."

"Hey..."

"Hear me out, okay? If you're dating her because you think she's an easy shag, or because you like the idea of monopolizing the girl who doesn't believe in monogamy, then—then you should break it off, because you're breaking up two best mates for no good reason."

"I'm..."

"But," Lily spoke over him, "if you're dating her because you have genuine feelings for her, and if she's seeing you for the same reason, then—I may not agree with her decision, but... you're right. You haven't done anything wrong. Carlotta's a big girl, and she can make choices for herself."

"I do fancy Carlotta," James replied. "She's—honest... most of the time, and funny, and not afraid to say what she's thinking, and I have a good time with her. That's why I'm seeing her."

Lily nodded slowly; she made the unspoken comparisons herself and wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor.

"Then you'll do what you have to do, I suppose."

James seemed taken aback by this response, and Lily sighed heavily.

"To be honest," she went on, "it's none of my business. I mean, it is a little, because I get to handle Shelley and Mary and the dormitory, but... I don't know: you don't have to explain it to me."

"I do, though."

"Why?"

James shrugged, not quite meeting her eye. "I don't know. You'll make me feel bad if I don't."

Lily snorted. "Honestly, the way everyone talks, you'd think I went around guilting people for every little thing they do!"

"You kind of do," said James, almost smiling.

"Oh, shut up."

Her mouth twitched as she resisted the urge to smile herself, and she decided she had better get rid of James before they got too comfortable. "You'd best get to breakfast," the Head Girl advised, picking up the prefect list again. "You'll want your class schedule."

"What about you?"

"I—I'll be along."

"A little early to be working on Head Girl duties already, isn't it?"

"I'll be along," Lily repeated.

James shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He might have departed then, but Lily called him back. It was a funny feeling to have—this conflict between wanting to speak to him and hoping she never had to. And it wasn't new, either. It was a very, very old feeling. Years ago, when she'd genuinely disliked James, when she'd been friends with Sev, when the Marauders (sans Remus) were essentially her enemies... even then, though she dreaded encounters with him, those encounters were interesting. They challenged and engaged her in ways that discourse with others never had. But she had never acknowledged this fact before, and that was unfortunate.

Still, now, her task was an unpleasant one. James watched her expectantly, awaiting whatever last bit of information she had to impart to him. Lily sighed.

"You should talk to Shelley."

James looked doubtful. "I don't think that's a good idea..."

"You should," Lily reiterated. "Before things get worse."

"Worse? Carlotta says already they're not mates anymore. How is it going to get worse?"

"I don't know," admitted Lily. "But—it could."

"Yeah, but..." He further ruffled his hair. "Yesterday was yesterday, and today is today, and what's the point in worrying about the past?" Again, James's expression erred on the side of defiance.

Lily arched her eyebrows.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Well..."

"Wait," Lily interrupted seriously. "Who are you? We were introduced in the past, and apparently what happened before has on bearing on what's happening now, so..."

"Very funny."

"Bitter, much?"

James made a face, and so did Lily.

"I'll see you in class..." he said, starting to go.

"Talk to Shelley."

"God. Fine." Lily almost smiled at that. "Bye, Snaps."

"Bye, Potter."

At that, James hesitated for a moment, as though there was something he wanted to add. Whatever that might be, he chose not to say it, and then he was gone.

(Probation)

Sirius did not know where James had gotten to, for the Head Boy's dormitory had been empty when he had gone up before making his way down to breakfast, but Remus and Peter were already in the Great Hall, and it occurred to Sirius that walking to the first meal of the day alone might now be standard procedure for him. The thought was not a happy one.

A few Hufflepuffs made their way through the Entrance Hall when he arrived on the marble staircase, but almost everyone else was already at breakfast, and Sirius knew he had better hurry if he did not want to miss the meal altogether.

"Oi, Padfoot!"

Sirius paused on the top step, and Peter Pettigrew—who had called his name—hurried to catch up.

"God, you're quick."

"Sorry. I thought you'd come down with Remus."

"No, I was waiting for you—you'd disappeared when I got out of the loo."

"Sorry," Sirius repeated. "C'mon then. Can't miss breakfast, can we?"

They jogged down the steps, but as Sirius reached the last one, he felt one of his feet slip out from under him, and he fell to the floor with a crash.

Peter yelped, and, wincing, Sirius began to push himself up. He'd broken his fall with his hands, which were now bruised, and he'd hit his left knee funny.

"Careful, Black," said a voice, and it was not Peter's. Sirius looked around; emerging from the wing that led to the dungeons was Nicolai Mulciber. His wand was drawn at his side. "Had a spill, did you?"

Peter tried to help Sirius up, but the latter waved him off, getting to his feet on his own. "Clever, Mulciber, really," he snapped. His ankle gave a painful twinge, but Sirius did not react. "Tripping hex? What is that? Standard Book of Spells Level Three? It's only taken you four years to master it."

"I hear you're on probation from the school," said Mulciber, ignoring Sirius's taunt. "Although it seems your little boyfriends have taken you off their probation, so at least you won't be alone when you get kicked out."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You'd better get to breakfast, Nick," he retorted. "They're handing out schedules, and you have to find out what classes you'll be failing this year."

"That's all?" drawled Mulciber. "No hexes? No famous Marauder retaliation? I'm disappointed."

"Impressing you isn't high on my priorities list," spat Sirius.

Mulciber grinned. "It will."

With that, the Slytherin turned and made his way into the Great Hall. Sirius's fists unclenched somewhat. When the two Marauders were alone, Peter looked at his friend, surprised.

"You're on probation?" he asked quickly. "You didn't tell us that. Does Prongs know?"

"We weren't exactly best mates when it happened," Sirius pointed out. "Or, you know, on speaking terms. It'll be fine. Come on..."

Peter followed him across the hall. "What does it mean, though?"

"Nothing," said Sirius crossly. "I just—I can't get in too much trouble. It won't be a problem. Don't say anything to the others."

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

"You should tell them..."

"I will. Just don't you tell them."

"Fine."

"Good."

Remus sat about halfway down Gryffindor table, meticulously applying butter to every corner of his toast, when Sirius and Peter joined him there.

"Where have you two been?"

"Not everyone rises at the crack of dawn, Moony," said Sirius, forcefully cheerful. "Where's Prongs?"

"No idea. Came by to take the map while you were asleep and then disappeared."

"Carlotta's here," Peter remarked, nodding towards their friend's girlfriend, who sat alone some distance away.

"So that precludes all of my theories," said Sirius. He poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. Peter sent him a pointed look, but he pretended not to notice.

(Sirius)

"So you would say that you're happy here?" Madam Keepdown asked, and, for half a second, Sirius thought that perhaps she could see through the charming smile he had used to mask his vexation.

"Oh sure," he replied, leaning back against the sofa allotted him and calculating exactly how many minutes remained before he would be allowed to leave this one-one-one counseling session (twenty-seven). "It's the best."

"Would you like to talk about last year?"

Her tone remained innocuous, but the question was incredibly leading. She must have known, at least to some extent, about his trouble with Snape the year prior, and that only made this worse. Sirius loved to talk about himself, but he preferred propagating myths rather than actual facts, and he certainly liked to be in control of the information. He'd seen this coming, too, with the meetings with Madam Keepdown, and it was only the fact that he was on probation that had stopped him from skipping out on his appointment all together.

"What about last year?" Sirius challenged; he draped his arms over the back of the sofa.

"It must have been very difficult for you—losing your uncle..."

Oh, she was going this route...

"We weren't that close. I'm not close with my family."

"No?"

"Nope. Well, it's my fault, really," said Sirius, and the bitterness crept through. "I'm just too sensitive. I mean, I get kicked out and disowned once, and stubborn, unreasonable me can't find it in him to send a Christmas card."

Madam Keepdown did not react. "Where do you live now?" she asked instead.

"Hogwarts."

"And when you're not here?"

"I have a flat."

"I see. That must be nice."

"The best."

"Very impressive, too," added the witch. Sirius arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "I mean, to be able to afford and maintain a flat."

It was almost as though she knew. Sirius wondered if they taught Occlumency to psych-healers these days.

"Well," he replied, smiling. "I am quite impressive."

"Guess what," challenged Marlene, rolling her eyes as Lily met her outside the Great Hall.

"What?"

"It's not particularly easy convincing Professor McGonagall to give you another student's schedule."

Lily frowned. "Did you get it?"

Marlene handed her a page of parchment. "You're lucky I'm so charismatic," she said, smirking. "Any particular reason you didn't make it to the first meal of the day?"

"I got busy," said Lily vaguely, taking the schedule and looking it over, as the two girls—as well as Donna and Mary—made their way across the Entrance Hall. "And, lo and behold, I don't have anything until eleven."

"How nice for you," said Donna, who was herself absorbed in her own schedule. "I have Arithmancy."

"And we have Care of Magical Creatures," said Marlene, looping her arm through one of Mary's. The brunette looked exceedingly glum this morning, although, Lily was glad to note that she had not failed to clean herself up. Her make up and hair were as impeccable as ever, and the only thing obviously off was that she appeared a little paler than usual.

"Maybe we could not shout?" Mary grumbled in response.

"Hang over," mouthed Marlene, and Lily nodded understandingly.

They ascended the marble staircase towards the second floor.

"So when is your first session with Madam Keepdown?" Marlene asked. "Donna's is this afternoon."

"Let's not rub it in, shall we?" snapped Donna. "Anyway, I'm not going."

"You have to go. They're mandatory."

"I'll say I'm ill."

"Mine isn't until Thursday," said Lily, locating the note on her schedule.

"Mine's tomorrow," said Marlene. "After supper. I'm glad it's after the session with the whole year, though—it'll be less awkward."

"Oh, when's that?" Lily asked, but she answered her own question a moment later. "Tomorrow before luncheon. That should be a laugh, right?"

"Or a bloody nightmare," said Donna. "Waste of time if you ask me."

"Everything that's not Ancient Runes is a waste of time if you ask you," Marlene pointed out. "Anyway, it should be interesting."

Lily arched an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

Marlene snorted. "Think about it. Carlotta, Shel... sorry, Mary—She Who Must Not Be Named, James, this one, Steb—sorry: that Cheating Lying Shite, to say nothing of Snape and you and the Marauders, and Mulciber... Charlie Plex and Donna... all together. How could that not be interesting?"

"We've had classes together before," Lily reminded her.

"Sure we have," Marlene agreed. "But no class where we all sat in a room and had a chat about our feelings. Donna might actually be right about it: a bloody nightmare."

Lily hadn't given it much thought up until now, to tell the truth, but Marlene's description of the event sounded rather daunting.

Have chat about her feelings?

Not likely.

(Cinderella)

"What a bitch!" exclaimed Ravenclaw Valerie Turpin, handing Shelley Mumps a handkerchief, but not really looking at the blonde, whose hands concealed most of her face. This changed when Shelley took the handkerchief and used it instead to conceal her flushed cheeks.

They stood in the girls' lavatory off the fourth floor, and Valerie had been touching up her lipstick when an ostensibly distraught Shelley entered, five minutes earlier. Now that the Gryffindor's story was told, Valerie picked up her forgotten make up and turned towards the glass over the tap again.

"You can't just let Carlotta get away with this!" Valerie ranted on, delicately applying the creamy pink wax over her lips. "Girls do not steal their friends' crushes!"

Shelley finished wiping her (dry) eyes and set down the handkerchief on the side of the sink. Valerie was now smacking her lips together, vision fixed upon her reflection, and she did not notice her companion's face at all.

"But what could I possibly do?" Shelley asked carefully. "I mean—she's Carlotta Meloni. She gets away with everything... like, last year, when she tried to steal Frank Longbottom..."

"Mmmm..." was Valerie's only response.

Old news. Shelley tried again.

"...Or how she shagged Simeon Fowl when he was still dating Jackie Trilby."

"Mmmm..." said Valerie once more, now tracing the outline of her lips with her ring finger.

"...Or how she shagged Derrix Pomfrey and Miles Stimpson in the same night."

This time, Valerie's reaction was much more satisfying. She froze, finger still poised at the corner of her mouth as she leaned over the sink towards the mirror. Without moving, she asked in a very serious tone: "At the same time?"

Honestly? No. And she'd only snogged Miles Stimpson...

But all the same...

"I... think so..."

Valerie's expression lit up. She recapped the lipstick and faced Shelley. "What a whore."

Shelley felt ill. She blushed and nodded.

"Oh my Merlin, I need details! When did this happen? Where did this happen?"

"The Plex's New Years Eve party last year."

"Really? Merlin, that doesn't surprise me. Those things are always disgusting. And—Agrippa—I saw Carlotta snogging Miles Stimpson there, but I had no idea she..." Valerie dissolved into high pitched laughter that gave Shelley a headache, and it was a minute before she calmed down enough to speak again. "If James ever found out..."

A long pause... Valerie was giving her a cue, but Shelley was late on her line: "N-no. No, you can't tell anyone..."

Valerie's beaming grin did not falter. "Oh Merlin, of course not. Not a soul."

Shelley nodded. "Well... I should go. I have class soon. Thanks for..." She was interrupted by the opening of the loo door; several sixth year girls entered, including one or two of Valerie's friends. "Thanks for listening," Shelley finished, as the girls, chatting and laughing, headed straight for the available mirrors.

"Of course, Shelley," Valerie cooed in reply. "Carlotta is a bitch. You can talk to me anytime." She gave the Gryffindor's shoulder a comforting squeeze. Then, her eyes sparkled with a sudden inspiration: "You know, everyone likes a Cinderella story..."

Shelley raised her eyebrows. One or two of the other girls were watching the pair now. "Cinder-what?" asked Shelley.

"Cinderella," repeated Valerie, and, for a moment, Shelley thought she might explain a bit more. Instead, she said: "I mean, you've gotten really pretty now... no one sees it coming... it's kind of brilliant."

"What are you talking about, Val?" asked one of her friends, a girl named Sheryll (who probably didn't know Shelley's name at all).

Valerie sent Sheryll a look—an I'll tell you later look—and Shelley knew that she would... she would as soon as Shelley left the room. She was anxious to get out now, and so, rather than question the "Cinderella" bit, Shelley sent Valerie one final queasy smile, and then started towards the door. It had not quite closed before Valerie could be heard beckoning the others closer; Shelley was a few steps away before she heard the giggles.

Under other circumstances, Shelley might have been concerned that they were making fun of her, but this time she knew better. Valerie was already relaying the gossip to the others.

For a second, Shelley felt guilty, but it was Carlotta herself who had always claimed guilt was an arbitrary emotion, best ignored.

(Fine)

September the second past relatively calmly for Lily. She had Transfiguration and Charms, and, after supper, she stopped by the Head offices once again to begin work on the prefect patrol schedule. James made no appearance this time, but, just as she was preparing to return to the Common Room, Remus arrived.

"I thought I might find you here," he said, smiling.

` "Why did you think that?"

"Prongs said you were here before breakfast. Apparently you're taking this Head Girl business very seriously."

"Ah..." Lily slipped the prefects list into her book bag. "I'm just leaving now, actually."

"I'll walk with you."

Lily smiled and nodded, hitching her bag up on her shoulder and following him out into the corridor.

"Full schedule tomorrow," Remus noted idly as they walked. "Defense and Herbology..."

"Mhm," said Lily, "and lest we forget the best part: our year meets with Madam Keepdown tomorrow morning."

"I had my first one-on-one with her just now, actually."

"Oh?" Lily raised her eyebrows. "And how was it? Donna was supposed to have hers today, too, but she pretended to be ill."

"It was..." Remus frowned. "Interesting. Not too bad, really."

"Really?" echoed Lily. "Did she ask you about... y'know...?"

"My condition? No. I don't think she knows, to tell the truth. We just chatted about school—classes, being a prefect, all of that..."

"Oh, that reminds me..." Lily paused to grab a sheet of parchment from her schoolbag, and then continued walking. "I've been trying to work out this patrol schedule... with the odd number, it's a bit strange, and then there's the fact that once Quidditch starts and the clubs begin meeting, there will be all these conflicts... anyway, if you're going to patrol with James, it looks like it should be..."

"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted. "Why am I patrolling with James?"

"Because he's one of your best mates," replied Lily, as though it were obvious. "Would you rather patrol with me? That might work, but I'm supposed to be covering for the Ravenclaw seventh year..."

"Why aren't you patrolling with James?"

Lily kept her eyes on the parchment in her hands. "Why would I be?"

"Well... he's Head Boy, you're Head Girl... I got the impression that's how it was planned."

"No, no, it doesn't make much of a difference," said Lily, waving her hand. "Anyway, I thought you'd want to patrol with..."

"I don't want to patrol with James. I'm always with him."

Lily snorted.

"Are you avoiding him?" asked Remus. Lily looked up from the parchment.

"No, of course not," she said. "Why would I be avoiding him?"

"That's a good question."

He watched her carefully for a moment, until Lily broke eye contact and returned to her schedule. "I'm not avoiding Potter. If you don't want to patrol with him..."

"Lily..."

She spoke over him, "...Than you can take my place with the Ravenclaw prefect. It's that girl—er—Clancy Goshawk..."

"Lily..."

They were approaching the portrait of the Fat Lady now.

"...Next Wednesday at eight, and Dumbledore explained most of the procedure for patrolling, so I'll talk about that on..."

"Lily..."

"...Monday, at the prefects meeting, and..."

"Lily."

"What?"

They had both stopped walking, several paces away from the entrance to their Common Room. Remus crossed his arms.

"Is there... anything you want to talk about?"

"Aside from prefect patrols?"

"Yes, aside from that."

"Nope."

Remus stared her down for a few seconds more, but Lily remained strong until, at last, he sighed and relented. She started for the Fat Lady's painting.

"If there is anything, though..." Remus went on, falling into stride with her again, "You'll let me know?"

"I'll let you know," said Lily briskly. "But really..." (She gave the password to the Fat Lady) "I'm fine."

The Common Room was crowded and noisy. Non-N.E.W.T. or O.W.L. students hadn't had much homework assigned, and almost no one was starting it anyway. The other Marauders were amongst the crowd by the fire, occupying the best seats, as usual, although the presence of Carlotta at James's side was something of an unhappy novelty. Lily decided to go upstairs.

As she crossed the Common Room towards the stairs, she noted Shelley Mumps chatting with a fifth year that Lily didn't know. The pair sat in the corner, and Shelley seemed to have fully recovered from the evening before. She did not look at Lily, however, and the Head Girl made no attempt to catch her eye. She continued upstairs.

At the top of the staircase, Lily expected to find her dormitory empty. Such, however, was not the case: Mary lay on her bed with a bottle of butterbeer, a magazine, and something that looked like a very large block of cheese, out of which she was taking occasional large bites. She looked up lazily upon Lily's entrance.

"Can I sleep in here tonight?"

Mary took another bite of the cheese, and Lily nodded. She dropped her bag onto the floor, kicked off her shoes, and joined her friend on the bed.

(Mary)

"H-h-h-he s-s-said he l-loved me," Mary sobbed on, and Madam Keepdown leaned forward, giving her a cotton handkerchief. Mary blew her nose. "Wuh-why would he s-s-say that? I was already s-s-sleeping w-w-with him! It's not as th-th-though he had to!"

"Mary, dear..."

"And Shelley!" Her tone turned angry. "That—that ugly wretch! Why would y-y-y-you cheat on me with that? It's... it's ridiculous! It's incon-inconceivable! I'm Mary Bloody MacDonald! I could have absolutely cheated on him about twelve different times, but I didn't, because I was in love with that lying arse! Shelley! Michelle Mumps! She has all the conversational skills of a walrus, and is even less attractive!"

Mary blew her nose again.

"Now, dear," Madam Keepdown said, and she looked as though she were going to take Mary's hand, but—at the sight of the crumpled handkerchief therein—changed her mind and leaned back in her chair again. "Dear, you have every right to be angry. It isn't fair, is it? But do you think speaking so—so angrily about others is going to make you feel better?"

Sobering up, Mary raised an eyebrow.

"Are you joking? Every time I come up with a new adjective or title for Stebbins and the Slut, my mood improves at least three percent."

The seventh years had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Ramsay on Friday morning,

Ramsay had a deep, rich voice—low and harmonious, like music. But the melody of his lecture contained a sad undercurrent that matched a certain sorrow in his black eyes. He was not particularly somber, but the feeling in his words was unmistakable.

In his lecture, Ramsay covered the Patronus charm, but his delivery didn't seem like normal class—it was almost as though he were retelling a legend in the great tradition of antiquity. He wove the elements together with an artistic flair, and in his own gentle, deliberate way, brought the story to dramatic climax.

"...The Animagus," he said, "does not change its form. It cannot. But the Patronus often evolves once within a wizard or witch's lifetime, perhaps connecting to someone with whom the caster is deeply attached. The Avarian interpretation of such a change—such an evolution—is that while the Animagus is a representation of the wizard's soul, the Patronus is his heart."

He smiled and became quiet, and many of the females in the room, at least, watched him with great interest. Then Ramsay's smile grew broader; he stepped away from the blackboard and his posture relaxed somewhat, as he continued in a more casual tone: "But of course, there are observable traits in a changing Patronus. For instance typically, as I have said, if an evolution does occur, the change is in relation to the Patronus of another. There have been a few reported incidents when one's Patronus changed to the form of an animal generally associated as the enemy of the caster's enemy's Patronus form, but, for the most part, the change is associated with another emotion all together... Love, of course." He looked out amongst the students. "Can anyone describe this phenomenon?"

Donna, of course, raised her hand. "Someone who becomes emotionally involved with another person might notice their Patronus change form to match the other person."

"Now," quizzed Ramsay, "you say the word 'match.' How do you mean it?"

"Er... it could take on the same form."

"Perhaps... or the forms could contrast."

A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand. "Why would contrasting forms show a connection?"

"Fair question," allowed Ramsay. "It's difficult to say. In fact, it's difficult to properly explain the reasons for any of this phenomenon... Although," (he looked amused), "they do say that opposites attract..."

"Well he's dishy," noted Carlotta, when class had ended, and she withdrew from the classroom with the Marauders.

"Pure sex appeal," agreed Sirius sagely.

"That voice," added James, pretending to sigh, and Peter and Carlotta both laughed at that.

The corridors grew increasingly busy, and the Marauders were obliged to move out of their hallway-encompassing formation to pass through the crowd. Since Carlotta did not move from James's side, however, the pair rather fell behind on their way to the next class—Counseling with Madam Keepdown—until the other Marauders had entirely disappeared onto the next floor.

"Sodding gits," said James, unconcerned. Carlotta, on the other hand, was preoccupied with something else. When they arrived on the third floor, she had begun to notice that many of the other students in the corridor were casting unsuccessfully surreptitious glances in her (and James's) direction. A few girls even began to whisper furiously as they passed, and as they reached the end of the corridor and started down the stair to the second floor, Carlotta could not merely dismiss it as paranoia.

"James..." she began slowly.

"Mhm?"

"Are people staring at us?"

"Probably. I'm fairly gorgeous."

"No, seriously, James..." She nudged him, and he glanced about.

"You might have a point," he muttered, as he locked eyes with a sixth year girl, who quickly looked away. "Here, wait here a second." James let go of Carlotta's hand and walked briskly to the end of the corridor. There, he paused for a few seconds, and then turned and walked back.

"What was the point of that?" Carlotta wanted to know.

"I was trying to figure out if they're staring at us," said James. "They're not. They're staring at you."

The couple resumed walking.

"Why are they staring at me?"

"I don't know. Oi—you!"

"James..."

But he had already garnered a fifth year Hufflepuff girl's attention, and James wasn't about to back down.

"Why are you staring at Carlotta?"

The girl blushed. "I'm n-n-n-not staring at any—any—anyone," she stammered.

"Oh, you were definitely staring," James contradicted blithely. "So... why?"

"I w-wasn't..." The Hufflepuff dropped her gaze and hurried off at once. James and Carlotta exchanged looks.

"That is disconcerting," stated James. "I'll try again..."

"James, please, don't," asked Carlotta, grabbing his hand quickly.

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Let them stare. Fuck 'em, right?"

James grinned and shrugged. "Alright."

The classroom designated for the class's meeting with Madam Keepdown was a large, previously unused one on the second floor. The desks were not arranged in rows or aisles as was typically the case, however, but situated around the perimeter of the room facing the center. There was no blackboard, no teacher's desk, but at the end of the square room—along the wall furthest from the entrance—there was a brief gap between desks that served as the only focal point in the classroom.

Carlotta gave James's hand an excited squeeze. "This should be fun, right?"

James snorted. "Fun. Right."

Carlotta stuck out her tongue and then surveyed the already half-full room quizzically. "Where shall we sit?"

The Marauder did not hesitate. He nodded towards the desks that his three cohorts had already designated as their own and took the one beside Sirius, as that had a vacancy to its immediate right. Carlotta took that.

"Took you two long enough to get here, didn't it?" asked Sirius dryly; he began to rummage through his book bag, presently withdrawing a box of Sugar Quills.

"Shut up, Padfoot."

"I didn't say anything."

"You implied."

"You inferred."

"Dolt."

"Prat."

"Children," interrupted Remus. James and Sirius ceased the bickering. "Oi, Padfoot, hand over the Sugar Quills," Remus added, gesturing for the box. Sirius provided it, and both Remus and Peter took one of the sweets from within.

"So," began Carlotta, leaning forward over the top of her desk. "I wonder what she's like in real life."

"Who?" asked James.

"Fiona Keepdown, of course."

"Oh, her. Well..." he looked to Remus and Sirius. "You've had your meetings with her. How was it?"

"You two have already met with her?" asked Carlotta enviously. "I'm not until Monday! Is she brilliant? How is she?"

Remus shrugged. "Inoffensive."

"Tall."

Carlotta arched an eyebrow. "Inoffensive?"

"Tall?" asked Peter.

"Yeah, she's freakishly tall. It's a little off-putting, to tell the..."

"What do you mean, inoffensive, Remus?" Carlotta interrupted.

Remus shrugged. "Non-offensive. Not particularly helpful or beneficial, but I'm not weeping and asking for an hour of my life back, so..."

"Not beneficial?" Carlotta echoed again. "But... it was only the first meeting. Of course you had to get to know one another..."

"Sure... but I don't see it being all that useful to me."

"Why-ever not?"

"Because..." Remus considered it. "Because I'm not going to talk about anything important with a stranger."

"But..."

"He's a bloke," James added. "Sorry, Car—it's just not likely to happen."

"That point of view is utterly archaic."

"And accurate, Quaffle," said Sirius, taking a bite of the Sugar Quill. Carlotta sent him a look.

"Did you just call me a 'Quaffle?'"

"Nope."

"Padfoot..." warned James, Remus, and Peter in unison. Unperturbed, Sirius continued to suck on the Sugar Quill. Carlotta struggled to understand what, exactly, was going on.

"It's better not to wonder what goes on in Sirius's mind," Remus advised.

Sirius took another noisy bite from the Sugar Quill, and with the resulting crunch, Carlotta could not resist the urge to add: "Do you have any idea what those will do to your teeth?"

"Make them sing with joy at the pure deliciousness that is a Sugar Quill?" Sirius suggested. Carlotta raised her eyebrows. "And... that's my cue," said Sirius, hopping up from his desk. "Be seeing you, lot."

With a wave, he strolled across the room, and, rather to the others' surprise, fell into the vacant desk beside Lily Evans.

"What's that all about?" James wondered to the other two Marauders.

"He's been in a weird mood since term started," said Remus. He picked up his own Sugar Quill again and took a bite. Crunch.

Carlotta shot him a look, but Remus did not respond.

"Lily Evans, you are a vision."

Sirius Black dropped into the vacant desk beside Lily's, and she rolled her eyes but didn't really mean it. She sat at the opposite side of the room from the rest of the Marauders—her friends hadn't taken their seats yet, as they all waited for the arrival of Madam Keepdown—and, as a result, it was something of a surprise to have Sirius there at all.

"Good morning, Sirius."

"And how are you on this glorious dawning of a new day?"

Lily shrugged. "Why aren't you sitting with your mates?" She nodded vaguely towards James across the room, but did not quite look at the Head Boy, because he was holding Carlotta's hand.

"Meloni is disrupting my equilibrium," replied Sirius casually.

"Your equilibrium?"

"My Zen, if you will."

"You have Zen?"

"I am Zen."

"Do you know what 'Zen' is?"

"Not anymore, I don't. Carlotta disrupted it all away."

"Do you know what 'disrupted' is?"

"Your nit-picking is doing a number on the little Zen I have left, Snitch."

"I thought Carlotta 'disrupted it all away,' and why did you call me a snitch?"

Sirius only grinned enigmatically, as he leaned back in the desk, hands behind his head. Madam Keepdown chose that moment to at last arrive, sweeping in through the door and clapping her jeweled hands together in a call for everyone's attention. Marlene, Donna, and Mary took their seats to Lily's right.

"Here we go," breathed Sirius.

"Good morning, everyone," gushed Madam Keepdown, once the floor in the center of the room was clear, except for her own, viscose clad figure. "I'm Fiona Keepdown, but you may all call me Fiona, of course."

"Because she's cool like that," muttered Donna sarcastically, and Lily smiled behind a concealing hand. Madam Keepdown managed to address everyone, despite standing in the center of the room, with surprising grace, although it required a lot of movement, and her deep grey skirt swished along the ground as she turned, almost constantly, so as to insure that her back was not facing any one group too long.

"I'm so happy to meet all of you this morning," she continued dreamily; "some of you I've already spoken to, but the rest, I look forward to getting to know better. Now, this isn't a regular class. You don't receive marks or a score... but you are rewarded for coming. Not just the benefits I hope you can all receive from this time every week, but house points."

"You've got to be kidding me," grumbled Sirius.

"When you enter the room every week," Madam Keepdown went on, "you'll each receive five house points. When every member of the house is present, that house receives an additional ten points."

"It's going to inflate the house point economy something awful," muttered Lily, and Sirius smirked.

"Also, it's unfair," he whispered in reply. "There are more Hufflepuffs than anything else. They'll get more points every week."

"Why on earth do you have that information so readily available?"

"It's the sort of thing that's useful to know when you're me."

Lily shuddered. "Maybe I don't want to know. Anyway, I think that's why there's the extra ten points if everyone shows up," she added. "If you have more members in your house, there's a greater likelihood that someone won't show."

"Yeah, but they're Hufflepuffs. What else have they got to do?"

"Excuse me!" called Madam Keepdown, and though she wasn't exactly looking at the pair, she pretended to scan the room, and said, as though making a general announcement, "Let's remember to be respectful! I'll listen to anything that any of you would like to share, so please, do the same to me." She smiled, and her eyes flickered to the offending Lily and Sirius.

Only when she turned away, did Lily whisper, "You're getting me in trouble already."

"That was your fault."

"...Now," Madam Keepdown once more resumed, "I would like to take today as an opportunity for all of us to get to know one another. I know that you've all had many classes with each other over the years—you're seventh years, after all—but I know that each of you probably has many people in this room that you don't know at all."

"I probably couldn't put a name to more than eight," admitted Donna in an undertone.

"...So we're going to be introduced to each other," said Madam Keepdown, and she was positively beaming now. "But we're not going to introduce ourselves. Instead, I want each of you to find someone in this room that you don't know very well... preferably, someone from a different house, and I would like for you to spend some time... just talking. Chatting. Getting to know one another. And then, in the last half hour, you will each spend a little time introducing your partner."

"I need a cigarette," sighed Sirius.

"Now, if you'll all partner up..." She continued with her instructions. Lily eyed the perimeter of the room, each of her classmates lined up along the walls, and it was not until she reached the end and realized that he wasn't there that she knew for whom she had been, almost automatically, looking.

Snape hadn't shown up. No surprise, really... and it wasn't as though Lily wanted to speak with him or anything like that, but his absence was—somewhat troubling.

"What do you say, Evans?" asked Sirius, as everyone else slowly began to rise from their desks in pursuit of a partner.

"You're supposed to go with someone you don't know," Lily pointed out.

"So? Keepdown won't know the difference."

"She just caught us talking, Black."

Sirius made a face. "Fine. I'd be offended, but Alexa Kyle is looking awfully fit this morning..." He was gone a moment later.

"So what do you think?" asked Carlotta, turning to James. "Reckon she's noticed that we've been holding hands this whole time?"

Her boyfriend looked confused. "Who?"

"Madam Keepdown," said Carlotta, nodding towards their teacher. "I mean, do you suppose she'll let us be partners?"

"Oh. Right." James shrugged. "Worst she can do is break us up, right?"

"Right." Carlotta leaned back in her desk again, smiling. However, the mirth faded from her expression a moment later, and James frowned.

"What's wrong?"

She did not reply, but James followed her stare, over his shoulder to the approaching person of Michelle Mumps. Shelley tucked a recently lightened strand of blond hair behind one ear and walked directly up to the front of the desks at which James and Carlotta sat.

"Not looking for a partner, are you?" asked Carlotta coolly, and James decided it was best if he just stayed out of this.

"I was actually," said Shelley, almost sweetly. "But not you, Car."

For half a second, Carlotta did not understand, and when she did, she actually laughed. "You have got to be kidding me, Shelley, if you think..."

"What?" Shelley placed her hands on her hips. "As you so kindly pointed out, James and I don't know each other very well, and I believe that is the purpose of this assignment, isn't it?"

"What exactly do you hope to accomplish?" demanded Carlotta.

"What exactly are you afraid I'll accomplish?" retorted Shelley.

"Afraid?" scoffed Carlotta. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Then let me work with him." Shelley's eyes gleamed with the knowledge of certain victory, and a long, tense, and silent moment followed.

It was broken by James. "I feel the need to point out that I am sitting right here, and..."

"Fine," said Carlotta. "You can work with him. I don't care."

"Car..." began James tersely.

"James, please..." And the look she sent him was not commanding but pleading. This was a personal battle for her, between herself and Shelley, and she needed to prove… well... she needed to prove something, though James hadn't a clue what that might be, and so, with a sigh, he relented. His mind flickered back to his conversation with Lily the day before, and he reflected glumly that this would, at least, be an unsought opportunity to talk over anything that might stand talking over with Shelley.

Carlotta slid out of her desk and joined the majority of mingling students in the middle of the room, while Shelley replaced her former friend in the desk beside James. She beamed at him, but James scarcely noticed. Across the room, Lily Evans was shooting him a highly skeptical look. He shook his head dramatically, and she averted her eyes in an attempt to defer a smile.

Mary MacDonald made absolutely no effort towards finding a partner. She was rather operating under the assumption that eventually, someone would be left without a partner, and they would find her. As a result, she sat at her desk and took another bite from the bar of Honeyduke's Fines that she had unwrapped at the beginning of the meeting just a few minutes prior.

"Mary," said a familiar voice. "I was hoping we could..."

She looked up to see Stebbins standing over her, an anxious expression on his thin face. He twisted his fingers together as he spoke, until his voice dropped off pathetically in response to the look Mary shot him.

"Fuck you," she said simply and took another bite of the chocolate.

"Mare..."

"Do I look like I care what you have to say at all?" snapped Mary. "Go away, okay?"

"But..."

"Leave her alone, Stebbins," Lily spoke up, two desks away. Donna had gone off to partner up with Adam McKinnon, and Marlene had been asked by Hufflepuff Liam Lyle, so the two chairs between Lily and Mary were now vacant. The Head Girl glared furiously up at the Ravenclaw for several seconds, until, at last he obeyed and meandered across the room to a group of hopeful looking girls.

Mary said nothing. She unwrapped the chocolate bar a little more, however, and held it up, across the divide between herself and Lily: an offering. Lily smiled and broke off a piece.

Eventually, Benjy Fenwick wandered over to their section of the room, and though he obviously intended to ask Lily to partner up, she nodded her head vigorously in Mary's direction, and he acquiesced.

"Fine," relented Mary, in response to his offer of partnership. "But I fucking hate men right now, so... fair warning."

"Lovely. Thank you, Evans..."

"Any time."

Slowly, Lily drew herself up, fully intending on joining the ever-diminishing number of individuals trying to find partners in the middle of the room. Almost everyone had paired up: following James's inexplicable partnership with Shelley, Carlotta had found company with Sabrina Barbery; Remus Lupin was chatting with Kellen Burgess, and Peter Pettigrew with Devang Patel. The Slytherins were almost entirely partnered amongst themselves. Lily started towards a few Hufflepuffs that remained, but as it turned out, she was spared the effort.

"L-Lily?"

She started at the sound of her name, uttered—she learned a second later, as she turned to see the wizard who addressed her—by Reginald Cattermole.

The Hufflepuff had gained a fair amount of height over the summer, and though no less awkward in appearance, he at least had the advantage of finally being taller than most of the girls in the room. Lily smiled.

"Hi, Reginald. Um—partners?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay. Shelley." James turned in his desk to face her. He ran his hands through his hair, and then placed one palm down on the desk top, the other tapping the seat back energetically. "Before we do this—this interview thing, we need to talk about Carlotta."

"No, we really don't," said Shelley, and she had lost the cool, challenging, vaguely flirtatious tone of earlier. She sounded almost embarrassed, an affectation James had not yet seen this new version of Michelle Mumps attempt and therefore was plausibly not an affectation at all. That was encouraging.

"Yes, we do. You're Carlotta's best mate, and I care about her, and I know that you must, too..."

"I..."

"You have to, Shelley. I know, because I've had... I've had fights with my best mate, too. And I didn't want to forgive him—I didn't ever want to make up with him... and I mean, what he did was... much, much worse than anything Carlotta's ever done..."

Shelley snorted bitterly.

"...Trust me," James went on. "It was. But eventually—I mean, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but it would be a bloody waste for you and Carlotta to lose six bloody years of friendship over something stupid..."

"James," interrupted Shelley softly; "this isn't about you. This is about Carlotta."

"Then why are you sitting here with me?" asked James dryly.

Shelley smiled. "Because it's bothering Carlotta."

James sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily, closing his eyes as he did so. When he opened them again, Shelley was smiling at him.

"Maybe it's a little bit about you, too," she said. The warmth in her smile disappeared immediately, then, and all that remained was the shallow impersonation of humor. "Now: that's enough of that..." She scooted infinitesimally closer, her voice dropping an octave or two. "...Aren't we supposed to be getting to know one another?"

The prospect had never seemed less promising.

"Okay, so if you could spend twenty-four hours as any creature that flies, what creature would you pick?"

Reginald looked at Lily with evident confusion. "That's your question?"

"Oh, sure. I can find out ever single thing about you from your answer."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I feel rather dull for asking your birthday, then."

"Oh, that's all right. You can find out all sorts of things from that, too. For example, you now know I am an Aquarius, which means that I, like all people born under a zodiac, have a number of positive characteristics and one or two negative ones that aren't actually negative at all."

"Aren't all people born under a zodiac?"

"Exactly."

"Oh."

"Indeed."

Reginald frowned thoughtfully. "Longhorn beetle," he said eventually, and off Lily's confused look, elaborated: "Twenty-four hours as any flying creature, I would be a longhorn beetle."

Lily laughed.

The call for volunteers went out again, and this time, Marlene, shrugging at her partner Liam Lyle, raised her hand.

"Yes, dear," said Madam Keepdown, by way of calling upon Marlene. "What's your name?"

"Marlene Price."

"Liam Lyle," added the Hufflepuff boy, and Madam Keepdown nodded. She had taken one of the few vacant seats in the room—amusingly located between an uncomfortable Colista Black and Kellen Burgess—and from there, watched with unceasing nods of approval for all of the introductions, which, so far, had been brief and, at best, mildly enthusiastic.

Marlene stood, as she prepared to speak, and Liam Lyle remained seated.

"So, this is Liam," began the blonde, "and he's a Hufflepuff. He provides commentary at some of our Quidditch matches, which is how a lot of you might know him, and a lot of you might know him just because we've been in the same class for six years, so if you don't know who he is—shame on you. He's in the Charms club, and claims to like long walks on the beach at sunset, but I think that might have been a line, so if anyone's interested, he's single and can be found in the Hufflepuff Common Room any time from..."

When Marlene finished her introduction, she sat down and Liam Lyle stood up for his own, also amusing, introduction of Marlene, which included a list of her favorite songs, her skin care regiment, and least favorite kind of cheese. When he had finished, most of the class clapped politely, and Liam took his seat again.

Madam Keepdown thanked them and called for another pair of volunteers. The typical thirty seconds or so of silence followed, and then Sabrina Barbery—exchanging a shrug with her partner, Carlotta—raised her hand.

"Sabrina, dear," said Madam Keepdown, "thank-you."

Apparently, Sabrina had already experienced her first one-on-one with the older witch.

She stood up, flashing a lipstick-framed smile around the room and then glancing down at a slip of parchment, onto which she had apparently scribbled notes of her interview with Carlotta.

"I'm introducing Carlotta Meloni," began Sabrina. "All of us know her, so I'm not going to waste your time with telling you her house and favorite class." Carlotta—and several others—smiled appreciatively. Alexa Kyle emitted a low giggle, although, it became clear a moment later that this was rather due to something Sirius Black had whispered to her than Sabrina's introduction. "So, a lot of people may think they know all about Carlotta, because there've been a lot of rumors going around..."

Lily raised her eyebrows, and she was surprised to see that Carlotta looked no less surprised by this particular sentence. The Head Girl turned to Mary for confirmation, but Mary only shrugged and took another bite of her chocolate bar. Apparently, with Mary paying little attention to anything she couldn't eat or shout at, Lily had been rather out of the loop with regards to "what people were saying."

"...And who am I to say which ones are true...?"

Lily looked at James, who appeared as confused as his girlfriend.

"Except," and here, Sabrina spoke more casually, as though deviating from her original plan for an extemporaneous tangent, "the one about Leslie Fairview can't be true, because when I was a fifth year, Leslie used to tutor me, and there's no way she would snog a girl..."

"What?" cut in Carlotta's voice shrilly, and the rest of the room fell silent. Sirius paused, mid-flirtation; Mary held the Honeyduke's centimeters from her lips; everyone stared at either Carlotta or Sabrina.

Madam Keepdown let out a nervous chuckle. "Perhaps we should..."

"Right," said Sabrina, blushing furiously and looking at her shoes. "Right. Um... Carlotta's a vegetarian..."

"No, wait a minute," interrupted Carlotta, smacking her desk with the palm of her hand. "I never snogged Leslie Fairview. I've never even spoken to Leslie Fairview..."

"Ladies, if..."

"That's what I said!" insisted Sabrina, bewildered as to where she had erred. "I just said you never snogged Leslie Fairview!"

"Who the hell told you I did?" She turned to Shelley almost automatically, but it was Valerie Turpin who spoke up, from several desks down.

"I did. Leslie's sister told me."

"Bullshit," snapped Carlotta ("Now, girls..."). "Why the hell are you talking about me in the first place?"

Everyone who was not Carlotta or Valerie seemed to sit in shocked embarrassment. It was, however, like the accident that one simply could not help but watch.

"Oh, honestly, Meloni. You can't complain about people talking about you the way that you behave..."

"Oh, you're just bitter because your first boyfriend was completely mad about me."

"He was not, he just..."

"Really?" interrupted Carlotta coldly. "Because he bought me a much nicer Birthday present than he got you. Not that I would've touched him... I do have standards, unlike some people..."

"Alright, now everyone should..."

"Standards?" shrieked Valerie. "You mean, like Derrix Pomfrey and Miles Stimpson at the same time at Connor Plex's New Years Party?"

"Wait, what?" chorused both Marlene Price and Miles Stimpson. Derrix Pomfrey, being a sixth year, was mercifully absent. "You said you only snogged Carlotta!" Marlene accused.

"I..."

"Now, everyone needs to just settle down for..."

"Wait a minute—Derrix Pomfrey?" spoke up a Hufflepuff girl. "At Connor Plex's New Years Party? He was my date..."

Lily exchanged wide-eyed looks with Sirius.

"I didn't shag Derrix Pomfrey!" said Carlotta firmly, getting to her feet. Sabrina Barbery, who had been standing awkwardly by throughout, took a step back, as though she feared that Carlotta might hit her.

"Yes, yes you did!" said Shelley, jumping up.

Madam Keepdown's attempts to calm everyone down continued to go unnoticed.

"You lying little bitch!"

"Don't speak to Shelley that way!" Valerie very nearly shouted, as she too rose from the desk and started towards the forming crowd.

"Don't speak to Carlotta that way," countered James, also joining the group.

"Shelley is the victim here!" continued Valerie. "Carlotta is a backstabbing slut!"

"Is it still considered wrong to tell girls to shut the fuck up?" asked James.

"You had sex with her? And Derrix Pomfrey?"

"I didn't! I have absolutely no recollection of..."

"You're a pathetic little bint, Shelley Mumps!"

"Well at least I don't have to sleep with anything that moves to validate myself!"

"Oh really?" Mary got up and joined in. "Name one other reason why you would snog Stebbins?"

"No, I can't even look at you, Miles; you're disgust..."

"But I swear..."

"Ladies and gentlemen, PLEASE!" Madam Keepdown's voice cut through the symphony of shouts, but to little or no avail. On the contrary, several others rose and joined in the fight.

"Why do you even care, Valerie?"

"And, by the way, wearing your skirt that short still doesn't make you pretty, Shelley!"

"I said I was sorry for Stebbins, Mary, I don't know..."

"You told them we shagged? We didn't shag! I think I would remember if..."

"Would you stay out of this, Stimpson?"

"Shut up, Potter!"

"Hey, leave James out of this, he didn't do anything to you!"

"You're a disgusting whore, and everyone knows it! That's the sad part!"

"Do you honestly think I care one bit what you think of me, Valerie?"

"Well, maybe if you worried a little more about what people thought about you, you wouldn't be in this situation now!"

"More likely I'd be a vapid bore like you!"

"Better vapid than emaciated and hated!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to take a lecture from a half-wit cow like you?"

Apparently, half-wit cow was where Valerie drew the line. She'd actually grabbed her wand and might very well have aimed it, when...

BAM.

And suddenly, there were sparks, and half the room was engulfed in a cloud of smoke so thick that Lily couldn't see any of the debaters, whose number had nearly doubled in the last twenty seconds. All the simultaneous, shouting voices were also swallowed up by the smoke, and Lily automatically jumped out of her desk, drawing her wand.

For half a second, Lily thought that someone had been hexed, and then she thought that Madam Keepdown had done something to regain control. Neither was the case, as it turned out.

The smoke cleared, and several people were coughing.

Remus Lupin put his wand away and cleared his throat loudly, so that, in the now quiet room, it became obvious who was responsible for the smoke. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Madam Keepdown," said the Marauder. "I believe you have the floor?"

He sat down. So did Carlotta, but the others—and nearly everyone was out of their seat now that the smoke had cleared—remained standing. All eyes returned to the adult. She must have been in shock, because, for several seconds, she remained stock still. Then...

"Well..." Madam Keepdown coughed. "Well, I suppose—that we've... had enough for one day." She hesitated, and then, in almost a squeak, quite different from the ethereal tone she had projected up until this point added: "Class dismissed?"

"Just when it was getting good," remarked Sirius Black.

Once again, Mary was already in Lily's room when Lily returned to her dormitory that evening. Tonight, what looked like the entire contents of Honeyduke's Sweet Shop were spread across the bed, and Mary held a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand and a handful of crisps in the other.

Lily closed the door behind her, eyebrows raised.

"Fun day, huh?" said Mary brightly.

"You skipped your afternoon class," Lily pointed out, toeing off her shoes and stepping towards the bed. She had to clear off about a dozen Honeyduke's Finest and Strawberry Soft wrappers just to get a corner of the bed to sit down upon.

"I'll go on Monday," Mary replied, unperturbed. She held out the crisp-bearing hand to Lily, but the Head Girl shook her head.

"I just had supper."

"So did I. Doesn't stop me." She popped one of the crisps into her mouth. "So..." She swallowed the crisp and took a swig of firewhiskey, which made her wince. "So, today, in our meeting with Madam Keepdown, we learned that Carlota is a huge slut, and Valerie Turpin is a sociopath. Fun, fun, fun times."

Lily rolled her eyes and took the firewhiskey from her. "You know that you're welcome to stay here as long as you like..." (A swallow of the liquor), "But eventually, you're going to have to go back to your own dormitory."

"Yes, I know," said Mary, and for a moment, she seemed sober. Then she smiled again, "But I also know you won't kick me out, so it might be a while before you're rid of me." The brunette took the firewhiskey. "In the mean time, you're welcome to eat anything that I don't."

"Would that be the wrappers?"

"We're going to have so much fun this year, Roomie."

James threw off the Invisibility Cloak, and what would have been startling to anyone else—the sudden appearance of a seventeen-year-old boy in front of the now closed door of the unused classroom on the sixth floor—was taken entirely in stride by the other occupants of the room: Remus, Sirius, and Peter.

"Where's Carlotta?" asked Sirius idly, not even looking up from the Marauders' Map, which was flattened out on a desk top. The three Marauders had each selected dusty desks and arranged them in a circle; a fourth awaited James. He collapsed wearily into it, running one hand through his hair and closing his eyes as he did so.

"Meditating," the Head Boy. "I guess it calms her down. Not that she claims to be anything except utterly calm about this whole thing."

"Second guessing the Quaffle decision?" asked Sirius.

"Second guessing the future of the human race, is more like it."

"I'm going to have to side with Prongs on this one," said Remus. "That wasn't Carlotta's fault."

"I don't know whose fault it was," Peter added. "But before today, I would have imagined that a cat fight would be a lot more..."

"Hot?" suggested Sirius.

Peter nodded.

With a sigh, they all reflected on the sad truth of this for several seconds.

"Anyway," continued James, coming to, "I've got about half an hour, so let's make this quick."

"Half an hour?" Sirius demanded. "You expect us to plan the entire Full Moon Night in half an hour?"

"You should be used to quickies, Padfoot."

"Funny, Prongs."

"It is cutting it a bit short," Peter remarked frowning.

"Well, we can meet again tomorrow night."

"No, I can't do tomorrow night," said Sirius. "I've got a date with Alexa Kyle."

The others shot him dubious looks.

"No, honestly. Keepdown's meeting wasn't entirely in vain... I got to practice being sensitive. They might end up being quite beneficial, you know."

"Acting sensitive," corrected Remus. "Not being sensitive."

"Okay, so... Sunday night?" suggested Peter.

"No, I have to tutor this fourth year Sunday night," said Remus.

"You're tutoring a fourth year?" Sirius asked, appalled. "God, sometimes it's like you're not a Marauder at all."

"Well he asked me! What was I supposed to say?"

"No," chorused James and Sirius. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Monday night?" he asked.

"No, we've got that meeting," said James.

"What meeting?"

"You know..." James gestured vaguely. "The... the meeting with the... the... you know..."

"Prefects?" Remus substituted, amused.

Sirius smirked. "Can we take another moment now to mock the fact that James is Head Boy?"

Sirius, Remus, and Peter chuckled. James rolled his eyes.

"Snap out of it, gits. Tuesday? Wait, no I'm meeting with Keepdown Tuesday night. Wednesday?"

"I've got patrols on Wednesday," said Remus.

James arched his eyebrow. "How do you know? I thought we weren't giving out the schedule till Monday..."

"Lily told me," explained Remus.

"She's already finished the schedule?"

"No... I don't know. She was supposed to patrol with this Ravenclaw girl, but then she asked me to, and... I don't know. Anyway..."

"Okay, this is stupid," said Sirius, annoyed. "We have the fucking cloak and map. We can go wherever we want, whenever we want. We'll meet after James's get-together with Keepdown on Tuesday. It'll be fine. Unless..." He looked seriously to James, "Our Head Boy has moral qualms with breaking curfew..."

Sirius, Remus, and Peter chuckled again.

"Shut up. Tuesday night. Fine."

"Fantastic," said Remus dryly.

"Wonderful," agreed Sirius. "So... how much longer till you have to get back to the old ball and chain, Prongs?"

"Screw you."

"That's what I'm hinting at, yes..."

"Padfoot."

"Alright, alright..."

(Carlotta and Friends)

Sunday was the worst.

At breakfast, Elaine Pleasance informed Carlotta that she was a "Disgusting Twat," just as Carlotta sat down.

In the library after luncheon, a few sixth year boys began snickering the moment Carlotta entered their aisle.

In the loo later that afternoon, a group of girls—which included Valerie Turpin and her friends—switched the subject of their discussion from the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to Shelley Mumps as soon as they spotted Carlotta (and pretended not to).

"She's so cute these days... and such a sweetheart... blokes much prefer her type of pretty to those too-skinny-hippie types. I know one boy has noticed in particular; shame he's tied down for now, but everyone loves a Cinderella story..."

At supper, however, Carlotta was with James. People left her alone, and even Sirius was almost nice.

Hogwarts always seemed to quiet down on the weekends, though, and it was with trepidation that Carlotta dressed Monday morning—the only part of the entire day that she could honestly say she was looking forward to was her meeting with Madam Keepdown that afternoon.

After breakfast, James departed to Potions, which Carlotta was not taking, and she started towards the Gryffindor Common Room. There, she could hope for at least a minimal amount of solitude and even a degree of support. Though she would tell anyone who asked that such support was utterly unnecessary, it was nice knowing that many of her housemates, at least, did not share what seemed to be an otherwise universal enchantment with the new Shelley Mumps.

She walked slowly towards Gryffindor, lost in her own thoughts, when a voice calling her name stirred her attention.

"Okay, listen, I don't care if you think..." Carlotta broke off; it was not Valerie Turpin or Sabrina Barbery or any of that lot, but Donovan Atwater, a Ravenclaw bloke and one of her actual mates approaching. He jogged to catch up with her, and Carlotta smiled.

"Hullo, Donovan!"

"Hi, Car."

"I'm sorry, I thought you were... never mind. How are you? I haven't seen much of you since term started..."

"Oh, I'm okay," replied the Ravenclaw, a good-natured smile on his face. "More importantly, how are you?"

"Oh, well..." Her smile faltered. "So-so, I suppose. I've certainly been better."

Donovan patted her comfortingly on the shoulder.

"Merlin, I know, that meeting on Saturday was... mad. And I've heard the other talk, too. It's rubbish. Shelley always was a..." He searched for the words...

"Spiteful little gnome?" suggested Carlotta bitterly, and Donovan laughed. He was such a nice bloke, she reflected, grateful for this one non-James friend at the moment. "Well, she wasn't always spiteful. The spite is a recent development."

"All the same," Donovan continued, "Congratulations."

"Congratulations on what?"

"Settling down at last," said the Ravenclaw, as though it were obvious. "I mean, aside from the fact that it's apparently turned Shelley into a gnome, surely you're at least a bit pleased about that?"

It wasn't something that Carlotta had thought too much about over the last few days, to be honest. She hadn't had the time... but it was nice, in its way... it was nice that he was always there at night, and that he was always on her side, and that he kissed her when they met in corridors...

"Yeah," she said, her smile returning. "Yeah, I guess so."

"And Potter's not a bad bloke," Donovan went on.

"No, he's not," agreed Carlotta.

The wizard smiled as well. "Well anyway, I did have something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Right, go on..."

"I was just wondering if we were still on for Wednesday?" said Donovan casually.

Carlotta frowned, confused. "Wednesday?"

"I mean, we missed last week, obviously—first evening back at the castle, it's always a bit hectic, but, y'know, I was thinking about it, and I think keeping Wednesday would probably work best, so..."

"Wait, Don," Carlotta interrupted. "Wednesday. You're not talking about...?"

"The arrangement," elaborated the other. "Haven't forgotten me, have you? I know it's been hectic, but I think after two years, you'd remember a weekly engagement, wouldn't you?"

Donovan chuckled lightly.

"Er—Donovan..." She took a slight step back. "I'm—I'm seeing James. The arrangement doesn't apply anymore, I thought you understood that when I wrote about..."

"Carlotta, c'mon... it's tradition. We've been together ever Wednesday since fifth year. And I've had girlfriends—it's not like it's cheating or anything..."

But that's exactly what it was.

"Donovan, no, I'm..."

"Car, don't be thick. Potter'll never find out."

"But..."

"No, no." Donovan continued to grin cheerfully. "I won't hear it. Not meeting on Wednesday night would be a crime after all this time. Meet you in the Astronomy tower at eight, just like always, yeah?"

"Donovan, I won't be there."

"Sure you will, Car. You always are... anyway, it's like you say—it doesn't mean anything. We're just mates... it's no different then if we—went on a run together."

"Donovan..."

He winked however, patted her shoulder once again, and then turned and strolled off.

Carlotta did not quite know what to say.

(Carlotta)

"Oh Merlin, it is just so wonderful being able to talk to you about this," Carlotta gushed, and Madam Keepdown leaned forward in her chair, taking Carlotta's hand in her own and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"That's what I'm here for, though, dear! What happened the other day..."

"Oh, it was so mortifying! I mean, I don't care what the others think, obviously. But you, my hero, and to have Shelley just..."

"Carlotta, honey, what you have to remember, is that as much as it might seem like the case, Shelley is not your enemy. She shouldn't be your enemy. You are young girls, and girls have to stick together."

"That is such good advice," Carlotta sighed.

Madam Keepdown beamed. "The most important thing you have to remember is that, as girls, you shouldn't be out to get each other. I mean, it's bad enough that the blokes already are, right?" Her smile grew that much broader; Carlotta's floundered a little.

"Well... not all of them..."

"Oh, no. All of them."

"All of them?"

"All of them."

"That seems extreme."

"All of them."

"O—kay."

"Trust me, Carlotta. All of them."

"So," began James, as he sat perched atop the desk in the Head Office, "are there any questions?"

Bertram Aubrey's hand shot up at once.

Both the Head Girl and Boy sighed audibly. James was more than willing to ignore the raised hand, but Lily was not, and she, albeit reluctantly, called on the prefect to ask his question.

"Is it dangerous?" asked Aubrey seriously.

"Is what dangerous?" James and Lily chorused, bemused.

"The patrolling. I mean, what are we patrolling for? It can't all be a matter of amorous couples, can it?"

James raised his eyebrows. "You'd be surprised."

"Amorous couples are actually something of an epidemic at the moment," agreed Lily. "And other questions? Specifically pertaining to the schedule, that is...?"

There weren't.

"Lovely. You all can go now, then, I suppose."

The prefects filed out, Snape with his usual half-scowl directed at Lily and complete disregard for James. Remus remained, but only to mutter something to James, who nodded in reply. Then, Remus had gone too, and only the Head boy and Girl remained.

"Walk you to the Common Room?" James offered, while Lily gathered together her papers—whatever those were—from the meeting. She paused and sent him a suspicious look.

"Where are you going?"

James realized his mistake. "Also to the Common Room, which would mean that not walking with you would be inane."

"Nice save."

"Thank-you."

Lily smiled and rolled her eyes. "You don't have to wait for me," she said, once again resuming her cleaning up of the office.

"Might as well, though. Don't want an amorous couple to attack you, do we?"

"God forbid," Lily allowed. She gathered up the rest of her things fairly quickly, straightened a few items on the shelves, and then James hopped off the top of the desk and walked with her out into the corridor.

They were quiet for almost the entire length of the floor, and Lily seemed to have no interest in changing this, so the responsibility fell to James. "Have you had your one-on-one with Madam Keepdown yet?"

"No, not until Thursday," said Lily. "You?"

"Tomorrow. Carlotta's was this evening... bloody loved it. She's a fan of Keepdown already though... apparently she wrote some kind of book..."

"Spiritual Magic, yeah," said Lily.

"You've read it?"

"Part of it. When I had the flu in fifth year."

"Was it any good?" He smirked. "I'm trying not to base my whole evaluation of the woman on Friday."

Lily just shrugged.

"What?"

"Nothing—but... Friday, while a supervising fiasco, wasn't Madam Keepdown's fault."

"Right, but I feel bad blaming Sabrina Barbery for anything too serious. Not very bright, is she?"

Lily said nothing.

"Wait... you're saying it's Carlotta's fault?"

"No."

Then, James caught on. "You're saying it's my fault," he realized.

Again, Lily said nothing, but kept walking, eyes directly on the stone floor ahead of the pair.

"How is it my fault?"

"It's not. Just—forget it..."

"No, don't do that. How is it my fault? Explain that!"

Lily sighed. "I would, but I don't want to be accused of trying to guilt you for every single thing you do."

"Oh come on," groaned James. "You're not seriously angry about that? It was a joke!"

"Well, I wasn't joking when I told you to talk to Shelley..."

"I did talk to Shelley!"

"Not soon enough!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that if you talked to Shelley right away, if you had any consideration for anything I said, the whole thing on Friday wouldn't have happened, and everybody wouldn't be walking around calling your girlfriend a whore right now. That is what it's supposed to mean."

James actually stopped walking; Lily did not, and, as a result, when he regained himself a little, he hastened to catch up. "How on earth do you figure that?"

"Basic reasoning skills."

"Evans."

"Shelley said she knew everything there was to know about Carlotta on the first night here... the fight in the dormitory. Two words to Valerie Turpin or Sabrina Barbery of any of those girls could have any piece of information spread around this school in five minutes."

"Yeah, but I didn't have any way of knowing that might happen!"

"I told you it would happen!"

"No you didn't!" James protested.

"I told you it would get worse if you didn't talk to Shelley!"

"Yeah, but—but—but... well..." He searched for something that would help his cause. "Why didn't you talk to Shelley?"

"I did. On Wednesday. Yelling. Shouting. Fire and brimstone. Ringing any bells? Besides, she's bloody in love with you! Anything you say would go over much better than anything I might say. Why couldn't you just take five minutes and ask her nicely to calm the hell down before she went gabbing to the school gossips?"

"You're seriously blaming this on me right now," muttered James disbelievingly. "It's inconceivable!"

"Well, conceive it."

"Why do you even care?" the Head Boy demanded. "It's none of your concern!"

"Of course it's my concern! You're all my house-mates! You're everywhere! And as if that weren't enough, you're Head Boy, which means I get to spend pretty much every second I'm not in class or doing homework with you!"

"Wow, thanks, Evans," James snapped. "Hate to be such a nuisance to you..."

"That's not what I meant."

"And also, it's nice that you're being so supportive and wonderful about this whole thing."

Lily glared. "No problem, any time." They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Bicorn," said Lily, and the frame drifted away from the wall. "Are you coming in?" she added stiffly to James.

"I don't think so," the Head Boy bit back. "I think I'm just going to storm away now, so that you can really grasp how unfathomably furious I am with you at the moment."

"Have fun with that."

He turned and did as he had said he would.

"Git!" she called after him.

"Prig!" he retorted.

"Now, dear," began the Fat Lady, but Lily pointed a warning finger at her.

"I don't want to hear it," she said, before quickly entering the Common Room.

(James)

"But I didn't know!" James protested for what felt like the hundredth time, and he scooted closer to the edge of Madam Keepdown's sofa. If he moved any further, he would be sitting on the ground. "I didn't know I was going to start the next Wizarding War just by dating Carlotta Meloni!"

"But you do know the problems it's causing now?"

"So I'm just supposed to break up with Carlotta because suddenly everyone thinks I should be dating Shelley?"

"No, no, of course not, James," said Madam Keepdown, and her smile was becoming infuriating. "I think that you should seriously consider your options though—and what would really make Carlotta happiest?"

"Fine, okay, but no where in recent history is there an account where someone is happy about being dumped, so..."

"James," said Madam Keepdown calmly, "you're using sarcasm as a barrier—not just a barrier that prevents me communicating with you, but a barrier that prevents your true self from communicating its emotions."

"I like barriers," replied James. "Barriers are nice. Like distance. Big fan of distance. Speaking of which, can I go?"

"We still have twenty minutes, James," cooed the witch.

James sighed. He leaned back on the couch and folded his arms. "Can we talk about something else then?"

"Besides your relationships with women?"

"It's not like all my relationships with women are shit," he felt the need to point out. "I get along great with most women. It's just that at this particular juncture, things are kind of..." He shrugged, uncomfortable: "complicated."

"I understand," she replied, and for the first time in the course of this meeting, James thought she might actually understand. He breathed a little easier. "Well, that's alright, because there are other things to discuss. You're Head Boy, aren't you? How are things with the Head Girl?"

James frowned.

"Okay, bad example..."

If he was completely silent—if he listened very carefully—he could hear that soft crinkling of the paper, consumed by the orange glow at the end of the cigarette. He drew the cigarette away from his lips and breathed out.

The cloud of white smoke that poured forth floated toward the ceiling—the entire lavatory already smelled of the smoke—and Sirius thought back with amusement to a time when that might have bothered him. A few years ago, he and James might actually have hesitated before lighting up in the boys' lavatory: it was the sort of thing that troubled a bloke when he was fourteen or fifteen... no, that wasn't it. It was only worrying because they'd never done it before... they'd never been in trouble for it, never been caught at it, had no idea what the reaction would be. But that made it thrilling.

A small degree of that thrill had remained, though Sirius did not have James to share it with at the moment. He didn't worry about being caught anymore—hadn't since the second or third time he'd smoked in the castle—but there was always a chance that he could be apprehended, and that made it that much more appealing.

Drag, exhale, drag, exhale. The feeling of the smoke gliding across his throat, then out; the gentle pressure of the cigarette against the top of his ring finger, as he tapped the ash into the sink beside him.

All too soon, the cigarette was finished. Once upon a time, he might have banished the scent from the air by magic, but now he knew better than to care.

He tossed the dead cigarette butt into the rubbish bin, rinsed his hands under the tap, and started for the door. It was opened before his hand touched the handle. Sirius stepped back, but when he saw who it was that had entered the lavatory, he rather wished he hadn't stopped for a smoke after all.

"Black," greeted Mulciber.

Sirius only sighed. He attempted to sidestep the Slytherin, but was thwarted as Mulciber moved to impede his path.

"Awfully rude, that," said Mulciber, smirking. "You ought to say 'hello,' back, really."

Sirius's lips tightened into a thin line; he was taller than Mulciber, but they were almost eye-to-eye, and the calm relaxation of the Slytherin only increased Sirius's anger.

"You know, Nick," the Gryffindor began, "I can appreciate what you're doing—you and your little friends... trying to taunt me... get me to betray myself, land in trouble. I can appreciate that. It's not a bad scheme. But right now, you and I are alone, and there are no teachers, and I could very easily smash your skull into the sink and no one would be any the wiser. You can't be so stupid as to not know I can best you in just about anything... I always could..." Sirius smiled nostalgically; "Remember, when we were kids...? You were really quite thick then, and Bella could always convince you to do anything..."

The smirk slid reluctantly from Mulciber's lips. He did not step aside at once, however.

"I'll say hello to Bella next time I see her," he murmured icily. "And Regulus, too."

Then, he moved out of Sirius's path, and the Gryffindor pushed past. He walked very briskly, not pausing until he had reached his destination—the Come-and-Go Room—where Remus, Peter, and James waited for him, prepared for a late evening of Full Moon planning.

"You okay, mate?" asked James on Sirius's arrival, evidently noticing his friend's discomposure.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sirius replied briskly. "Let's go in, shall we?"

Sirius thought James and Remus must be idiots for believing that he didn't notice their unsubtle exchange of looks, but he, like they, opted not to comment.

(Donna)

"...Recent studies involving the herb aconite have yielded few results and thus have been subject to much criticism by those who believe that potion masters would do better to focus their attentions on more tried ingredients, such as wormwood and fluxweed, whose full potential, they claim, is not yet known to magic-kind."

Donna's eyes flickered away from the scroll in her hands for just a moment, but Madam Keepdown's expression remained interested, as though she wanted nothing more than to hear the rest of Donna's potions essay.

Nothing could faze this damn woman.

Still, it was better than actually talking to her.

"...However, critics and advocates of aconite alike agree that development in the potion-brewing has by no means met its end..."

Wednesday evening, Remus arrived at the Head Offices with very little excitement for the impending evening of patrols with a near perfect stranger—the Ravenclaw prefect. He arrived early, neatly adorned in his uniform, but with a touch of a headache that upset his equilibrium just enough to be thoroughly obnoxious. He hoped this Ravenclaw bird wouldn't be late.

She wasn't. She arrived five minutes early.

"Hello, Remus."

"Hello—Clancy, right?"

"That's right."

She smiled.

Clancy Goshawk was immediately pretty. There was very little contemplation required to arrive at this conclusion; she was cute. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and eyes just a shade lighter. Her uniform—like Remus's—was in an exceptional state, neatly ironed and worn in the highest degree of orderliness. She wore no perceivable make up, but didn't need it, and the few freckles that danced precociously across her quaint nose only heightened her inherent cuteness. Remus suddenly wished the patrol were over: by then, he would, hopefully, be comfortable around her, as he was around Lily or Marlene or Mary.

"So..." Clancy smiled politely and gestured towards the office door. "Shall we?"

"Of course." Remus let her pass first, and he quickly censured himself. Honestly, it was just a girl.

In the corridor, Clancy seemed less certain of herself. "So... we're supposed to do what exactly? Check all the broom cupboards?"

"Something like that, I suppose..."

"Do people really snog in broom cupboards?" she inquired as they walked. "I thought that was a myth."

Remus thought of Sirius. "Yeah, they definitely do. If we're lucky, that's all they'll be doing."

Clancy's eyes grew wide. "They don't actually... in broom cupboards?"

"Oh, they do." Remus shuddered, and Clancy sent him a look. "Oh, I haven't..." he added hastily. "I just—I mean, I have interesting mates..."

"You mean Sirius Black and James Potter?" She paused in front of hte first broom closet in their path.

"That's right. How'd you know?"

Clancy looked surprised. "You're the Marauders. Everyone knows you four."

"Oh—er... right."

They both eyed he cupboard warily for a moment.

"So, shall you do the honors or shall I?" Clancy asked, hand poised over the door handle. Remus bit back the Sirius-like, "Ladies first," that rose to his tongue and said: "I'll do it."

Remus stepped tentatively forward. He raised his eyebrows and pretended to take a prepping deep breath, furthering Clancy's amusement. "Keep back," he warned somberly. "This could get messy."

Restraining a smile, Clancy matched Remus's serious expression and nodded, taking two steps back as she did. She patted her hip to indicate that her wand was ready, and Remus grabbed the handle. He pulled the door open with flourish, so that it struck the wall behind it loudly.

The cupboard was, of course, empty.

"Oh, thank Merlin," sighed Clancy. "I'm not going to lie. I was a little nervous there for a second."

"Me too," Remus admitted. Clancy beamed.

"Only two dozen to go, I reckon."

"Mmm, thanks for reminding me."

"Hopefully we'll be as fortunate in the future."

"Yeah, or there'll be a boggart in one..."

"Merlin, I hope not..."

"So, last stop," said Remus, eying the door in front of himself and Clancy. "The worst of all."

"You mean people actually snog here too? I thought that was a myth as well."

"Oh, no," said Remus. "People snog in the Astronomy Tower, too. Honestly, where do you think people snog, seeing as you think they're all myths."

"I don't know... Common Rooms... dormitories... We'd better head up, hadn't we?"

"I suppose so." Remus opened the door that gave them entrance to the stairwell, which they ascended side-by-side, chatting about nothing in particular.

"Charms has always been my favorite subject..." Clancy remarked idly, in response to something Remus had said. "I think I just get along best with Flitwick. I mean, Slughorn and I get on alright, but... he's got so much love for Lily Evans, it's difficult for him to notice anyone else. Not that I hold it against him—and he always invites me to the Slug Club get togethers..."

"Really? I never go, myself."

"Of course..." Clancy smiled. "Your lot always throws the anti-party. What is it? The Toadies?"

"Much less exclusive."

"No, they just exclude a different lot," said Clancy. "I never get invited, after all." She smirked challengingly.

"Well I guess I'll have to make sure you get an invitation next time."

"Hmm—although, I don't actually know how I'd get on with the Toadies crowd. I'm sure they're much more fun than the Slug Club types, but I don't drink or smoke or anything."

"Well, they're not like that... I mean, okay, they sort of are..."

Clancy laughed, and they reached the top of the staircase. Remus opened the door without a thought, and they peered out onto the dark Astronomy Tower landing. A chilly wind whipped through, and the waxing moon cast the stone in a pale white light.

For Remus, the moon was always something rather depressing—a cruel reminder of reality, of things he could and could not do, of rules he'd constructed for himself and rules constructed for him...

"Oi, you there!" Clancy's voice called Remus out of his unhappy reverie, and he realized that there was, in fact, someone standing on the landing. "Hey, what are you doing up here?" Clancy went on, hands on her hips.

The wizard stepped forward.

"Donovan, is that you?" asked the Ravenclaw witch, for it was, indeed, her housemate, now visible in the moonlight and scowling.

"Are you alone?" asked Remus, confused, for he saw no one else.

"Yes," said Donovan, rather bitterly.

"What were you doing up here?" Clancy wanted to know.

"Nothing."

He glared at them, but neither Clancy nor Remus held any grudge against him. Actually, they weren't really certain what to do now that they had found someone.

"So—do we... give him detention?" asked Clancy.

"Dock points?" suggested Remus. "Or are we allowed to dock points? I can never actually remember."

"Me neither!"

"Can I go?" demanded Donovan.

"Wait—you didn't tell us what you were doing here."

"Honestly, Don," Clancy agreed. "It's ten o'clock."

"I was looking at the stars, alright?" grumbled the wizard. "Now can I go?"

"Should we let him off with a warning?" asked Remus, who had every intention of doing so.

"I suppose this one time."

"But if we catch you again..."

"You'll be in for it."

"Big time."

Donovan rolled his eyes and moved hastily by, and only when he had nearly reached the bottom of the staircase did Clancy make to leave. Remus, however, stepped further onto the landing, peering around every corner of the place curiously.

"What is it?" asked his partner.

"I was just wondering what he was doing here," said Remus shrugging. "But there's no one else up here..."

"Maybe he was supposed to meet someone," Clancy suggested.

"That's a little dramatic."

"You're the one who's telling me all these Hogwarts clichés actually have basis in fact."

"Well, they're clichés for a reason." Remus shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and following Clancy to the door. "If he was meeting someone up here, it doesn't look like they showed."

"Okay, I am guilt free," James declared, dropping his quill onto the top of the desk in his dormitory and throwing his hands up victoriously. Carlotta sat on his bed, magazine in hand, but she glanced up, eyebrows raised, at the statement from her boyfriend.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm guilt free," James repeated. He rose from the desk chair. "I finished my homework."

"Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?"

"I know. It's weird. I'm scaring myself."

Carlotta smiled, as James sat down on the corner of the bed and loosened his tie. She was quiet for a moment, and then she set down her magazine and leaned forward. "James," she began slowly, "I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure, what?" He was untying his shoes and not looking at her, though.

"About... about me."

"O...kay?"

She breathed deeply and then plunged in: "I haven't told this to you or anyone... not even Madam Keepdown, because to tell the truth, as wonderful as she is, I think she hates men, so her opinion might be biased." James snorted. "I just... I've been kind of afraid that you were going to sleep with... someone else."

"Car..."

"No, please let me finish saying this. I've been afraid of that, but... but I've been afraid of that because I've been on the other side of that—on multiple occasions. And I—I never really thought about how I would act if I was the person in the relationship... if I was the one with the opportunity to—to cheat. I never thought about it, but I think, deep down, I assumed that I would do it if I wanted to. I wouldn't... hesitate."

James was watching her carefully, and he looked vaguely worried now.

"But the funny thing is," Carlotta continued. "I don't want to. At all. No desire, whatsoever. I like being with you... which is funny, because the last few days have been... completely awful. Everyone hates me, and..."

"Everyone doesn't..."

"No, they do. James. And they're right." She shrugged. "I've always been a slut. And I'm probably still a slut at heart, whatever that means. I have a sordid past... though, they've gotten just about all the facts wrong, but... that's neither here nor there. Alright, I'm rambling... I do have a point."

"Which is?"

"Everyone wants you to date Shelley."

"That's your point?"

"There's more to it."

"Okay."

"Everyone wants you to date Shelley. Shelley is nice. She might still be a virgin, and she's never snogged a girl."

"So you have snogged a girl?"

"Yes... just not Leslie Fairview."

"Maya DeMarco?"

Carlotta's eyebrows shot up. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Never mind," said James, with a highly self satisfied grin on his face. "Sirius owes me five galleons though. Sorry. Go on—you were saying?"

"I was—er... oh, right. I was saying that everyone wants you to date Shelley, but I—would really like for you to date me. And this may seem like a stupid thing to ask, but given my history, I think it's fair to add that I'd also really like for you not to cheat on me."

James looked at her. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

"Oh… really?"

"Yep. I actually thought that sort of went without saying, though..."

"It does, but... I wanted it to go with saying."

"Consider it said."

"Okay."

James grinned, still a little bewildered. Carlotta pulled out her feet from under her and scooted to sit beside him at the edge of the bed. Still smiling at him (so very handsome), she removed his glasses and kissed him.

"You ought to have been in Ravenclaw, Remus Lupin," Clancy teased him, as they slowly approached Ravenclaw tower, where Remus was to deposit her for the evening. "I don't know any Gryffindors who have read the entire Hasselback Collection. Twice."

"That's where you're wrong," Remus replied. "Hasselback himself was a Gryffindor."

"No kidding. I thought to have paid better attention in History of Magic, I suppose. Here I was thinking all Gryffindors were wild drinkers and Quidditch players."

"Ah, I'm rubbish at Quidditch."

"Me too... and I really shouldn't even like it, because I'm not the type of girl who likes that sort of thing. But it is a wonderful game to watch, isn't it? It's Charlie's only short-coming that he doesn't play."

They reached the entrance to Ravenclaw Common Room.

"Charlie?" inquired Remus.

"Mhm." Clancy nodded, visibly brightening. "My boyfriend. Charlie Plex. Anyway... this is me... Goodnight. Thanks for handling all the truly scary broom cupboards."

"Right. Of course. Goodnight."

He turned to go, as Clancy answered the riddle for her Common Room, but Remus did not hear a word she said.

Charlie Plex?

She was dating Charlie Plex?

Of all people, Charlie Plex?

Remus hated Charlie Plex.

Justice was a dead art.

(Lily)

Lily took a seat on the sofa, suddenly nervous and incredibly conscious of every move she made.

"So you're our Head Girl," began Madam Keepdown. "That's lovely. I was a prefect myself in my day."

"Oh? What house?"

"Hufflepuff."

"That's cool." She tried to think of something else to say. "Hufflepuffs are very..." (What the hell were Hufflepuffs again?) "...loyal." (That was right, right? Loyal? How did that Sorting Hat song go...?)

"So they say, yes," agreed Madam Keepdown, the same ingratiating smile in place. She looked much calmer than the last time Lily had gotten a good look at her (the previous Friday, in the disastrous class session), and yet Lily's anxiety grew. She didn't know why she should be so nervous... except, of course, that Madam Keepdown's sole job was to get Lily to talk about her feelings, and the very last thing in the world that Lily wanted to talk about (with anyone) was her feelings. "And what's your house, Lily? It's alright if I call you 'Lily,' isn't it?"

"Well my friends call me 'George,' but..."

Madam Keepdown laughed appreciatively at the joke.

"No, of course, it's fine," Lily added.

"And you may call me 'Fiona,' if you like. I prefer less... formal handles. You and I are equals."

"Except you get paid to be here and I don't," said Lily, before she could stop herself. "Sorry. That was rude. Sometimes I say things. Anyway... er... what were we talking about?"

Madam Keepdown (Lily had already acknowledge in her own brain that she would never call her "Fiona") had stiffened a little in posture, but her smile remained. "We were saying that you've been called a...?"

"Er..."

"What house?"

"Oh. Gryffindor."

"That's lovely. You know, I'm sure your house is very important to you..."

"Er... sure. I suppose."

"But to me, you are Lily. It doesn't matter to me what color necktie you wear, or who others choose to define you. How do you define you, Lily?"

"Um... well... off the top of my head... the word 'marvelous' comes to mind?" She smiled hopefully, but her jokes were wearing Madam Keepdown's patience thin; apparently, she was hoping for something a little deeper.

"That's wonderful, dear," she said. "I'm sure you are marvelous. Now, what would you like to talk about?"

"What?"

"Is there anything you want to say? Anything you like to ask me? Discuss?"

"Oh, well... um... no."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nope. Nothing comes to mind."

"Really? Nothing?" Madam Keepdown leaned forward in her chair. Lily leaned back on her sofa.

Why was Keepdown surprised? Had everyone else had a plethora of information they wanted to share? Lily couldn't imagine Sirius Black coming in and baring his soul to this woman.

"I don't... I mean... I rather thought you'd have some questions..."

"Oh, Lily but this is about you. For this hour, everything in this room is about you. What you think and feel is important to me. That's why I'm here. To listen. Now..." She smiled her widest, most revealing smile yet, "is there anything you'd like to ask?"

But the additional prompt only made Lily's mind go utterly blank. The only question that she could imagine was "What's your favorite color?" and she rather thought Madam Keepdown would think she was making fun. She shook her head, and the older witch seemed disappointed, but she kept her ever present smile in place and pushed on: "Very well. Then, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Er—no. Go ahead."

"Wonderful. Do you enjoy school, Lily?"

"You mean... the classes? Or just Hogwarts in general?"

"Whichever," said Keepdown with a shrug.

"Well... I like it a lot. It's—fantastic."

"Which? The classes or just Hogwarts in general?"

Lily smiled. "Whichever."

This time, Lily was absolutely certain that Madam Keepdown's simper was false. "Now, dear, let's not be impolite."

"Oh, I didn't mean..."

"It's in the past; let's move on," cooed Madam serenely, waving one hand in the air as if miming the act of moving on. "Now, Lily... would you say you're ever lonely?"

"So you just sat there and read your essay?" demanded Lily. "And that worked?"

"Mhm," said Donna. The two girls sat in Lily's dormitory Thursday evening, following the Head Girl's one-on-one with Madam Keepdown. Mary was with them, at least physically, although she paid little attention, as she was humming along to the Carole King album on the turntable while painting her toenails (black) and diligently working her way through a super-sized bag of Caramel Cauldrons.

"She didn't argue?" Lily pressed on.

"Nope." Donna shook her head, evidently quite pleased with herself. "I reckon she thought she could get some kind of insight into my brain because of what words I chose, and that's annoying, but at least I didn't have to talk to her, right?"

"It doesn't make sense. That was... that was the... worst hour of my life in... the last week, and she just—she must just hate me! She said I was rude, and kept asking me if I was lonely and... it was awful. I'm not going back to that... there is no way..."

"It wasn't that bad for me," said Donna, shrugging. "Anyway, you get ten house points just for going, so at least you went."

"Who are you, and how did Donna let you get close enough to steal her hair for the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Well, you might as well earn the house the points, as long as your legally obliged to go anyway."

"Oh, please, you rescheduled twice."

"Better late than never."

"Seriously, Donna? I'm beginning to worry about your health."

"I'm in a good mood," admitted the other witch with a shrug. "I finished all my homework early. Madam Keepdown helped me with my paragraph structure."

"Oh God."

(Friday)

The funny thing was that despite the fact that news of the seventh years' first meeting with Madam Keepdown on the first Friday of the year had spread around the school so rapidly that first years were retelling it by lunch time, the second Friday meeting was utterly sedate: uneventful in the best sense.

Everyone was divided into little groups again, but Carlotta stayed away from Shelley and Shelley away from James, and, for the time being, all was calm.

Towards the end, Madam Keepdown handed out little cards, which each students was meat to fill out and return to their head of house in order to review Madam Keepdown's performance for the first week. These were a source of great amusement to the students, despite Madam's requests that they take them very seriously.

After the meeting, James offered to return Carlotta's book bag to the dormitory, and so she made her way down to lunch alone, the other Marauders already having gone ahead. It was her very great misfortune that Donovan Atwater should be waiting for her at the end of the corridor.

"What is your problem anyway?" he demanded, and the hallway was crowded, so Carlotta almost didn't realize he was speaking to her at first. When she did realize, she stepped out of the traffic of students as best she could so as to speak with the unhappy Ravenclaw.

"Donovan," she began, as though lecturing a small, dim child, "I told you I wasn't going to go."

"You can't just... just not show up..."

"Oh, so now I owe you sex?" asked the witch, rolling her eyes. "That's idiotic."

"Well that was the arrangement!" insisted Donovan, annoyed. "I mean, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, exactly," said Carlotta. "We're friends. But we're not that type of 'friends' anymore."

Donovan made a scoffing sound. "Carlotta, what—what do you think...?" He trailed off, chuckling bitterly.

"What? What are you trying to say?" she wanted to know.

"I'm trying to say that... that all the girls in this school hate you, Carlotta. And if you're going to be a frigid bitch, none of the blokes are going to be on your side, either."

With that, Donovan stepped past her and proceeded down the staircase.

Frigid.

It was possibly the only negative adjective that Carlotta had never heard in reference to herself.

(The Rest)

Immediately following a rather tense meeting with the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch Captains Friday afternoon, James adjourned to his favorite nook off the fourth floor and withdrew the Marauders' Map. Remus, Sirius, and Peter were in the library studying, Carlotta was meditating in the dormitory, and the figure that James sought could be found departing her muggle studies class two floors below.

At a fast jog, James reached her before she hit the staircase to the third floor.

"Shelley."

Shelley Mumps beamed at him, and James sighed.

"We really do need to have a conversation now," he said. "Is that okay?"

"Of course." She stepped away from her friends—who apparently existed now—and James waited for the giggling group to depart before he spoke again.

"Listen, Shelley," James began, slowly and deliberately and full of dread. "I—I'm not exactly sure what is going on between you and Carlotta... if this is some kind of game you're playing, but... I'm not going to come between you. It's not a game to me... I like Carlotta, and I know the things that you've been saying about her, and I can't pretend to know what any of this 'Cinderella' business is, but it's my—responsibility to say something for her sake, okay? Whatever your relationship with Carlotta is now, you were best mates before, and there are certain—certain obligations that even ex-best-mates have to each other. And I have an obligation to you—even if I don't know you that well. I should be honest with you, and the truth is, that the rumors going around about Carlotta don't make any difference to me. I'm not going to break up with her because a lot of people are gossiping about her, and I'm not going to date you just because some people seem to want me to. I know that sounds mean, but I'm just trying to be honest."

James kept his composure throughout, and when he had finished his speech, he exhaled, proud of the job he'd done.

Firm, but polite.

Shelley burst into tears, and his composure evaporated.

"Oh-my-God, don't cry," the Head Boy begged, but Shelley continued to cry loudly and into the sleeves of her jumper. "Please. No, I don't... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." She wept on, her shoulders moving with each noisy sob. James deliberated patting her head or giving her a hug or something, but all of that seemed awfully misleading, so he ended up just patting her shoulder in the absolute most awkward fashion possible.

"Y-y-y-you h-h-h-hate me n-n-now, don't..." hiccup, "don't you?" Shelley bawled dramatically.

"No. No I don't hate you," said James, wide-eyed. "I don't. Really. I just..."

"And I've l-l-lost m-m-my b-b-best m-m-mate too!" moaned the blonde. "I d-d-didn't e-e-even s-s-start those—those—those rumors ab-ab-ab-about Carlotta! V-V-V-Valerie Turpin made m-m-most of it up-p-p because she's s-s-so jeal-jealous of Carlotta..."

"Okay, that's... that's awful. Um... maybe—maybe you should stop crying, though?"

Shelley's wails slowly ended, and she sniffed into the sleeves of her jumper. James sighed.

"Okay, Shelley, um... I just—want all of this pettiness to stop, you know?"

Shelley nodded. "Me too. Honestly? Honestly I just miss my best mate..."

(Library)

Sirius had no idea why he was spending a perfectly lovely Friday afternoon in the library, when he ought to have been literally anywhere else.

James was off arguing with the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch Captains over scheduling the pitch, however, and Remus had dragged Peter with him to the library, which meant that Sirius could either amuse himself or attempt to distract Remus from doing work. Naturally, the latter was a far more appealing option, except that today, Remus was un-distract-able, and Sirius was bored.

"You could do your homework," Remus pointed out. "Rather than wait until Sunday night."

"Monday morning," corrected Sirius dryly. "Anyway, I don't like the library. It smells like... books and... people who read books."

"People who know how to read," Remus corrected, and Sirius acceded the humor of that. "People like me, you mean?

"Oh, not like you... or Evans or anyone like that..." Sirius shrugged, and then dropped his head amongst his arms, which rested upon the table. "More like... the kid with the hair that looks like cotton balls... what's his name?"

"You're an awful human being," sighed Remus.

"That's true. I'm working on it though."

The librarian sent the boys a quick scowl from her desk, and Remus lowered his voice. "Well, if you're not doing anything useful, you could at least go and fetch a book for me."

"Yay, a mission," replied Sirius dryly. "What book?"

Remus gave him the title, and Sirius nodded, getting lazily to his feet and starting towards the stacks. Remus fell, reabsorbed, back into his studying, but Peter noted a handful of Slytherins—including Nicolai Mulciber—emerging from the shelves just a minute or two before Sirius also returned.

"Hey, can we get out of here?" Sirius asked, dropping the book on the table.

"No, I told you, I'm doing my homework," sighed Remus. "I'll be finished in half an hour, and then we can go into town or do whatever it is that..."

"I just don't want to be in here anymore," Sirius interrupted. "It's boring and that fucking librarian is staring at me. Can we leave?"

"Leave yourself if you want to go," retorted an irritated Remus. "I'm finishing my homework."

Sirius rolled his grey eyes. "Fine. I'll see you in Common Room." He turned and, with little regard for the dangerous glare that the librarian shot him, Sirius stomped out of the library.

"He's in a mood," Remus remarked, and Peter snorted.

"It's probably the Slytherins," replied the other Marauder sagely. Remus frowned.

"What do you mean? Regulus?"

"No, Mulciber." In response to Remus's continued puzzlement, Peter elaborated: "He's been a git to Sirius the last week, because Sirius is on probation for the prank on Snivellus last year."

"Sirius is on probation?"

Peter sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you."

"A little late for that. Why didn't he tell me? Does Prongs know?"

"No, I don't think so."

"How does Mulciber know?"

"I don't know, but everyone knows Sirius is off the Quidditch team, so it's not surprising. Anyway, from what I can tell, they've been trying to provoke him into trouble."

Remus frowned. "How do you mean 'provoke?' And why am I just hearing about this now?"

"Padfoot hasn't said anything?"

"No."

Peter shrugged. He explained briefly about the tripping hex on the first day and the other little taunts he had noticed in the interim, and when he finished, Remus looked a bit upset.

"I don't think he'll do anything," Peter added hastily. "He's been holding up quite well. I suppose he didn't want to tell you, because... I mean... he wouldn't want to bring it all up again with you..."

"He thinks I'd be angry?"

"Well..." Wormtail searched for a delicate way to phrase it. "You and Prongs were awfully upset with him last year—and we've only just all made up... only a bit over a month ago, really. I'm sure he doesn't want you thinking he's... complaining."

"That's not right," muttered Remus, distracted. "That's not how we... how we do things."

"What do you mean?"

Remus shook his head. "We're the Marauders, aren't we?"

"Sure."

"We wouldn't let Mulciber get away with this for—for Prongs or for you. He wouldn't let Mulciber get away with taunting me like that..."

"Yeah, but he's Padfoot. He's not going to ask for help, is he?"

"No," agreed Remus softly. "Alright, tell me again—what exactly did Mulciber do?"

"Don't be angry with me," said James, sitting down beside Carlotta on the sofa in Gryffindor Common Room. Carlotta looked up at her boyfriend, eyebrows raised.

"Okay. Why am I not supposed to be angry with you?"

"I talked to Shelley."

"You talked to Shelley... when?"

"About an hour ago."

"About an hour ago? Why?"

"Because—I know you don't care... or you don't think you should care, but... I don't know... Madam Keepdown sort of got to me."

"Madam Keepdown?"

"Not in a major way. I still think she's completely batty and annoying, but... I wanted—I thought if there was any way that I could get Shelley to stop spreading rumors about you, there might be a chance, that... somewhere down the line, the two of you could actually be..."

"Oh, James, that's really sweet, but..."

"No, no, no, see, it's a good thing!" interrupted James enthusiastically. "I talked to her, and she was really, really upset. Not all bitter and stuff, like at the meeting last week... she was genuinely upset about everything that's been going on. All that Cinderella stuff..."

"Yeah, what does that mean, anyway?"

"I have no idea. Anyway... she was upset. There was crying—I don't want to talk about it; it was scarring. But she didn't even say those things that Valerie Turpin has been telling everyone apparently... that's just Valerie being Valerie. I honestly think that you and Shelley could make up... she seemed like she was... at least open to the idea. She said she missed you. That's good, right?"

Carlotta sighed. She pushed her thick hair away from her face, and brought her feet onto the sofa beside her, her knees reaching just below her chin. "James," she began, "It's... it's really cute that you believe that."

James frowned. "What do you mean?"

Carlotta took a moment to collect her thoughts. "I didn't shag Miles Stimpson," she began presently.

"I didn't ask."

"I know, but let me explain. I didn't shag Miles Stimpson, and I certainly didn't have a three-way with him and Derrix Pomfrey."

"Still didn't ask."

"Right. But that night, at Connor Plex's New Years Eve party, I snogged Miles Stimpson... everyone knows that. I also slept with Derrix Pomfrey, and it's not my finest moment. We were both completely drunk... he doesn't even remember it, to tell the truth. So, until about a week ago, no one knew about it, except me. And Shelley. I told Shelley. I only told Shelley, so there is no way that the weird, twisted and false version of the story would reach Valerie Turpin or anyone else unless some version of it came from Shelley. She told. And she doesn't want to be my mate again. She wants me to be completely alone and friendless, and she wants you. And on the first part, I think she's succeeded."

James looked surprised. "What? What do you mean? You have friends..."

Carlotta shook her head. "Not anymore. My female friends were non-existent and my male friends, apparently, aren't actually interested in being friends, so..."

"Wait what?"

And somehow, the rest of the story of Donovan Atwater came pouring out, until, at last, James sat, facing the dead fireplace with a look of utter exasperation on his face.

"Well there you have it," said Carlotta. "You're dating the most popular least popular bird in school. What do you think?"

"Well, frankly, fuck them," said James impatiently. "That's what I'm thinking."

Carlotta smiled. "James..."

"Mhm?"

"Do you want to skip your stupid meeting tonight?"

James smirked. "Yes, but—I can't. I've got meeting and patrols... I can't skip two things. They'd revoke my inexplicable title."

"Yeah..." Carlotta nodded slowly. "Well... I'll wait up."

"Hey, Black!"

Mulciber's voice was unmistakable, and Sirius did not stop. He continued down the corridor, quickly as he could, trying to close out the voice that continued to invade his head. "What? No jokes for us today?" called Mulciber. "And where's your boyfriend? Off with his girl? That must hurt..."

"Is that the best you can do, Mulciber?" Sirius called back dryly, still walking away. "Rather sad, that."

"Care to have a chat about your brother then, would you?" retorted Mulciber. "Been spending some time with him lately. Not a bad chap, you know."

Let it go, let it go, let it go...

"...Of course, there's a reason he's where he is, and you're where you are. Regulus—he's got a good head on his shoulders..."

Keep walking. Don't react. Keep walking.

"...He knows how to prepare for his future..."

Idle threats. He's just baiting you. He wants to get you kicked out.

"...When the time comes, he'll be safe. Not like you..."

Keep walking. Keep walking.

"...All of you. You'll all get what's coming to you, Black." And something in Mulciber's voice had changed. His taunts had shifted purpose; there was an earnestness in the insults now. "Just like your uncle..."

Sirius stopped walking. He turned to see a snide smirk grow on Mulciber's lips.

"You're predictable," spat the Slytherin. "Pathetic and predictable."

"I'm not going to hex you," Sirius retorted. "You think you can force me to incriminate myself, but I won't do it."

"What do you think is going to happen to you out there?" Mulciber continued, as though he had not heard Sirius's reply. He slowly approached the Gryffindor, his amusement mounting with every step. "What do you think is going to happen to all of your blood traitor friends? Do you think that you're safe?"

Leave. Leave now.

But he couldn't. He was frozen to the spot.

"...Do you think any of them are safe?"

Leave now. Leave now.

"None of you are." Mulciber was now standing only a few insignificant paces away from Sirius. "Lupin... Mary MacDonald... Lily Evans... what do you think is going to happen to them?" He took one more step. "I'll tell you. I'll tell you exactly what is going to happen to them... you know—the girls—I hope get to handle them myself..."

"You're psychotic," Sirius interrupted. He had never realized before... Snape he knew to be a git, Avery was disgusting, and Hester was truly frightening, but Nicolai Mulciber, for all of his calm cunning and swagger, was madder than the rest of them. He didn't say these things only to taunt Sirius; he meant them.

"Afraid, are you?" murmured the other.

"Terrified," admitted Sirius coldly. His hand ached to draw his wand... to curse Mulciber like he deserved... surely no one would question that this was what he deserved... surely, if they heard... and, maybe, some things were more important than staying out of trouble...

"I'll take my time with Evans," Mulciber whispered.

Sirius reached for his wand, but he hadn't begun to draw before a jet of blue light struck Mulciber square in the shoulder, throwing him, skidding back, onto the ground.

It was a moment before Sirius realized what had happened.

Remus strode up, past his fellow Marauder, and right up to where Mulciber lay on the floor, groaning in pain. He leaned over, hands propped up on his knees. "I'm sorry. Had a spill, did you?"

Then, he turned and began back towards Sirius.

"Moony, I wasn't going to... what he said..."

Remus paused when he was on level with Sirius.

"You don't have to explain," he said. "You don't have to explain about Mulciber or any of them. And if they give you any trouble... any kind of trouble whatsoever..." His voice shook with anger, but Sirius realized that it was not towards himself that his friend's fury was directed. "...If they do, you had better tell me, because Prongs will kill them. C'mon..."

"Okay, listen."

Lily grabbed James's arm, as they were mere paces from Professor Dumbledore's office, effectively bringing him to a halt there.

"Listen, you and I may not on the best of terms at the moment," Lily went on, "and I don't really want to get into that now. We can... fight that one out later, okay? Right now, I think you and I should be able to agree on one thing."

"What?"

"Madam Keepdown. We're supposed to be giving our reports... everyone handed in the little cards... I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."

James arched an eyebrow. "Getting rid Keepdown at all costs?"

"Yes. Exactly." Lily sighed in relief, and James found something amusing about that, because he smirked. "I'm serious," she pressed. "Keepdown must be destroyed. And we will have to put on a united front in there. Okay? I mean—I know, we can't be the only ones who feel that way. Surely, the comment cards will speak for themselves, but... just in case."

"Oh, don't worry," James assured her. "Cathago Delenda Est. All the way."

Lily grinned. "Thank-you."

They closed the distance between themselves and the door to Dumbledore's office, chorusing the password of "Pumpkin Pasties," with determination.

"Well," began Dumbledore slowly, as Lily and James sat in front of him, Fawkes the Phoenix flapping silently at his side, gently fanning the untidy stack of comment cards sprawled out across one corner of his desk, "if that concludes our business with the patrols, I think we may turn to the subject of Madam Keepdown. There is a very clear consensus about our guest from the Ministry of Magic."

Perhaps vindictively, Lily could not wait to hear how Dumbledore would phrase the witch's utter failure delicately.

"The consensus appears to be," Dumbledore went on, "that the counseling sessions are going quite well and are of a benefit to all."

Lily and James stared at him.

"What?" they asked in unison.

"Indeed," their headmaster continued, "Amongst all of the comments, there were only a few complaints." He indicated to the stack of parchment in front of him.

"How is that possible?" demanded Lily, leaning forward earnestly. "How many people complained?"

Dumbledore raised his thick, snowy white eyebrows, and Lily realized exactly how many. "Two? Just us? That can't be possible. Other people besides James and I had to have complained! Surely... Donna..."

"Or Remus!" James chimed in. "We can't be the only two!"

"I'm afraid that you are," said Dumbledore, amused.

"That's not possible," Lily repeated, "Someone else must have realized that she's a mean-spirited sociopath."

"And a man hater!" James added enthusiastically.

Dumbledore pursed his lips contemplatively. "Perhaps if you told me exactly what you feel went wrong in your meetings with Madam Keepdown."

Lily was prepared at once: "She said I was impolite!"

"She said I was stringing someone along!" added James.

"She jumps on every little thing you say and doesn't let you explain it!"

"She attacks you!"

"Without warning!"

"Completely unjustly!"

"And it smells like dying rodents in that office!"

James nodded emphatically. Dumbledore seemed to be attempting to repress a smile, which Lily did not find helpful at all.

"And did the two of you feel the same in your group session, with the rest of your year?"

They both calmed.

"No," Lily admitted. "I mean, last weak it was crazy."

"This week was... better, though," James allowed reluctantly. "There are more of us at those things, though. They're not as painful."

"Exactly. She couldn't focus all of her malice on just one of us."

Dumbledore considered the two of them for a few seconds. "So, perhaps, the real problem is that the two of you do not feel comfortable speaking with Madam Keepdown individually... alone."

"Possibly," said Lily slowly.

"And yet it is the Ministry's mandate that each student meet with our honored guest once a month."

He seemed to be getting at something, but neither Lily nor James guessed what it was just yet.

"However, perhaps," Dumbledore continued, "since the two of you are Head Boy and Girl this year..."

"We can get out of it?" asked James hopefully, and Lily sent her most pleading look in Professor Dumbledore's direction. He only smiled again.

"No. What I meant to suggest," he said, "is that the two of you might benefit from attending the meetings with someone else. And since you both find the sessions unhelpful individually, agree that they would be more beneficial—or at least tolerable—with company, and, furthermore, share in a partnership, which may—given your very well known history—require a period of adjustment, I can think of no better solution."

Still, they didn't understand.

"No better solution than what?" asked Lily.

"Why, than meeting with Madam Keepdown together."

Again, Lily and James both stared. Then—

"What?"

"I'm going to kill Donna," grumbled Lily, as she walked with the Head Boy along the second floor corridor. They were about halfway through their corridor patrols, and neither had ceased ranting for very long. "And Remus. And everyone else. How could they do this to us?"

"Those dirty rotten brown-nosing gits," agreed James, shaking his head. "This is not the end. I will find a way out of these hippie-nonsense-meetings if it's the last thing I do! They can't force me to talk about my feelings! That's illegal!"

"More than that, it's evil!"

"Exactly." James folded his arms stubbornly. He was quite red-faced, and suddenly, it occurred to Lily that Dumbledore might have been right about one thing—it was a little funny. The only two amongst all of those hundreds to comment-the only two with complaints were the pair of them. Lily bit her lip to hide the amusement that threatened to peak through, but James noticed anyway: "What?" he demanded. "Why are you laughing?"

Lily chuckled. "Did she really say you were stringing a girl along?"

"Yes," said James sourly. "She thinks I want Shelley to chase me. And it's not funny."

Lily could not help herself though and covered her mouth with one hand to mask the inevitable laughter bubbling up inside of her.

"It's not," James insisted, but already he was almost smirking himself.

"Does she really hate men?"

"Stop it, Snaps, seriously. We're going to have to go to these meetings all damn year! It's going to be the worst part of my month... and this coming from the bloke who deals with Remus's furry little problem every month!"

Lily shook her head.

"I don't know what you're so pleased about," James went on, a touch of resentment in his tone. "It'll only mean more time you and I spend together, and apparently that's nothing short of torture for you." Lily rolled her eyes and stopped walking. James stopped a step or two later and turned back. "Are you going to deny it?" he challenged.

Torture? It was a shockingly apt description, actually, but for none of the reasons that James thought.

Lily chose her response very carefully.

"I'm glad you're Head Boy," she said at length; James opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off: "I am. What I said earlier was... an unfair response. I said it because I was angry, because... well, just because." Again, James tried to speak, but was deterred. "All the same," she went on, forcibly calm, "I'm sorry."

"...Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Now, Lily folded her arms. "It's your turn, Potter."

"I don't actually feel that I have anything to apologize for," said James defiantly.

"I've heard that one before," Lily pointed out, raising her eyebrows. "Come on. Out with it.".

James sighed. "I should have believed you when you told me to talk to Shelley. Sorry."

"Thank-you."

"You're welcome."

They started once again down the corridor, not paying much attention to any of the cupboards or classrooms that they ought to have been inspecting.

"Oh, and will you please explain to me who this Cinderella bird is and why it is that she's ruining my life?"

Lily laughed.

Much later, they parted in the common room, on the landing between the two dormitories. "I'll see you tomorrow, Snaps," he said, starting up the staircase.

"Bye, Potter."

James hesitated on the third step. He turned back to Lily. "We're not permanently back to 'Potter,' are we?" he asked uncertainly.

"Would you prefer I invent an inexplicable nickname for you?" Lily replied, half exasperated.

"It would certainly feel a little less circa-fifth-year."

Lily bit her lip, but the twitching ends of her mouth betrayed humor. "I'll see you tomorrow, James."

He grinned. "Excellent."

(A Chat)

That night, Mary at last returned to her own dormitory. It was their second Friday at the school, and Lily ascended the staircase into her own, private room finding it both empty and likely to remain so for the first time that term. She closed the door behind her, and then leaned against it.

For a long, quiet moment, she dwelt on things—on the grin on James's face, on their habit of bickering and making up, on Shelley on Carlotta, on Madam Keepdown, on her empty, lonely room, and on how maybe she wouldn't have minded if Mary had stayed a little longer...

And then there was a knock.

Confused, Lily turned and opened the door.

To her very great surprise, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew stood before her.

"How come you lot didn't fall to your deaths at the bottom of this staircase?" Lily asked, crossing her arms and cocking her head to one side.

"It's actually a very easy rule to get around," said Remus.

"We'll tell you about it some time," Sirius agreed.

"What are you doing here?" asked Lily curiously.

"Well," said Sirius. "I thought we agreed that we needed to have a chat."

"We did agree. I was supposed to holler at you for neglecting to tell me about Carlotta and James. But I've forgiven you, so that chat is deterred. Anything else, or are you going to let me get to bed?"

Sirius ignored her. "Oi, are those Caramel Cauldrons?"

He headed for the bag on the floor—one Mary had left behind—and Remus sighed.

"You'll never get rid of him now."

About an hour later, the four of them had eaten more Caramel Cauldrons than any of them would admit to in future recounts of this tale, and Lily got up from the desk where she was sitting (Sirius lay on her bed; Remus and Peter sat on the floor) to put a new record on the turntable.

She picked one she liked and set the track, and stood there for a few moments, listening to the first lyrics.

But Remus's voice would intrude.

"Lily," he began quietly and suddenly, and it was clear in the utterance of those two syllables that this was the real reason for their visit that night; he paused before completing the thought: "do you—do you fancy James?"

It ought to have been a shocking question. It ought to have stunned Lily, but it didn't. She'd been expecting it—all along, she'd thought that even though she hadn't told a soul, hadn't said a word, someone must notice. And she'd known that that was why Remus was concerned for her, and why Sirius had wanted to have a chat, and all of it.

The simple, awful question that she had so expertly avoided all week in the face of Carlotta and Shelley chaos now appeared again: silly and insignificant and awful and painful as before.

She didn't even really have to answer.

"Please don't tell him," she replied softly.

The three Marauders exchanged looks. In the long silence, the Janis Joplin album played on.

Sirius struggled to reply tactfully: "Is it... when did—did this happen?"

Lily shrugged.

"When did you realize?" Remus modified.

"First day back."

"Because..." Peter started hesitantly, "Because of Carlotta?"

Lily shook her head. "About ten seconds earlier." She smiled unconvincingly. "Fitting, right?"

"Lily..."

"It is, though," she interrupted, nodding forcefully and turning to face them at last. "It really is. Anyway..." Another shaky smile, "I'll get over it."

She sat down on the corner of her bed now, and Sirius sat up.

"Hand me the caramels, will you?" she requested of Peter, who complied. They were all looking at her, and Lily began to feel uncomfortable. "It's fine," she repeated. "I'll get over it. I mean..." An awful, chilling thought occurred to her, "He did. Right?"

A/N: lol, you guys are going to kill me, aren't you? I meticulously edited everything RIGHT up until the very end... and then this fucking website deleted all my edits, so I need to go through it again. And I will, but in the mean time: here is your chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who reads and reviews, and feel free to check the blog-link in my profile for any other information.

Reviews are puppies alive.

Love,

Jules