The Life and Times

by Jewels5

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

34. Meloni v Mumps

Disclaimer: Copyright Jo-Ro

Before: Shelley Mumps and Carlotta Meloni, former best friends, become enemies when Carlotta starts dating Shelley's long-time crush, James. Another student, Valerie Turpin, helps Shelley exact revenge by spreading potentially reputation-damaging rumors about Carlotta. Shelley starts sneaking around with Charlie Plex, who is dating Clancy Goshawk, but Marlene finds out and eventually tells Clancy that her boyfriend is cheating on her. Also, Lily has recently discovered that she fancies James, but she hasn't divulged this to anyone except Sirius, Remus, Peter, and—via pen pal style letters—Sam Dearborn, James's relative whom she met over the summer at the protest. Lathe is an auror, who spent a lot of time over the summer in the Leaky Cauldron, where Donna and Sirius were working. Sirius believes that Donna has a bit of a crush on Lathe. Due to their mutual complaints against the Ministry-assigned free spirited psych healer, Fiona Keepdown, James and Lily have been instructed to visit her in joint sessions, once monthly.

Chapter 34- Meloni v. Mumps

Or

"The Ballad of John and Yoko"

Dear Sam,

Happy Halloween!

Now, I will reply to every one of the random, mad questions you asked in your last letter, but first, I've got to tell you a story—a very silly, complicated, dramatic story that has unfolded over the last two weeks. I've simply got to retell it to someone who isn't here and doesn't already know it. Hopefully, by the end, you'll see why.

People are really awful, Sam. Oh, I know, sometimes they aren't, but sometimes they are. But they are also really, shockingly adept at rallying behind a cause, if the cause is stupid enough. And that's what this story is about.

I suppose I should begin with Clancy Goshawk and Charlie Plex. You don't know anything about them—it's a bit of a long story—but to summarize: they are Ravenclaws, a boy and a girl, who were dating. Unfortunately, while dating said Clancy Goshawk, Charlie was also sneaking around with Shelley Mumps—Shelley I've mentioned before, though I don't remember how specifically. She's the bird that got a tan and started trying to sabotage James's relationship. However, she was still sneaking around with Charlie Plex, which, eventually got out to everyone else.

Now, Marlene—Marlene Price, you met her—she was the one who told Clancy about Charlie, but she didn't tell her that it was Shelley that Charlie was sneaking around with. (I know this story seems dull as anything right now, but it'll pick up soon, I promise.) How exactly Clancy found out that bit of information is something of a mystery: some people say that she coerced and threatened it out of him. Some people think he just let it slip, and he's a bit of a prat so that wouldn't surprise me either. Some people say that it was a huge, dramatic display, and some people like to think of the incident as a quiet, heartfelt chat.

But, you know how it goes: no matter what anyone thinks, they all relay the information as gospel truth.

Anyway, it got around to Valerie Turpin. Valerie Turpin is a Ravenclaw, just like Clancy, but she's been quite chummy with Shelley lately, because they share a mutual hatred of Carlotta Meloni (James's girl). However, it appears that house points are thicker than water, because once it got around to Valerie about Shelley and Charlie, that was pretty much was the end of the unholy alliance between Shelley and Valerie. Virgin Victim Shelley, you see, served Valerie's purposes far better than Home-wrecking, Man-stealing Shelley, at least insofar as the man in question was being "stolen"(pardon the expression) from a Ravenclaw. And that was a huge, dramatic display, so of course, it was a matter of some discussion for just about everyone. And I wouldn't be surprised if that's what gave Mundungus Fletcher the idea to monetize.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

(Some Time Before)

"Valerie. Valerie!"

Valerie Turpin happened to ignore the sound of her own name with remarkable skill. She didn't even flinch as she walked across the Entrance Hall for breakfast on Monday morning, but kept her chin high and her eyes on the doors to the Great Hall. She managed to ignore Shelley Mumps until she had nearly reached those doors, and at that point, Shelley actually tapped her on the shoulder and, out of breath, repeated Valerie's name again.

Valerie turned. "Yes?" she asked innocently, as if she'd actually been deaf to the calls up until this moment. Shelley faltered.

"Didn't you... didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you, yes," said Valerie. "I was ignoring you."

"You were—what?"

"I was ignoring you, Shell," she said again. "In fact, I'll be doing quite a lot of that from now on."

Shelley blushed deeply. "And why is that?" she asked in a strained voice.

Valerie shook her hair with dignity. "Clancy Goshawk is Ravenclaw. She may be odd and in need of highlights, but she's also very sweet. Going after Carlotta Meloni is one thing—but Clancy Goshawk's boyfriend? That's just cruel." With a final supercilious twitch of her eyebrows, Valerie turned to go, and the Shelley of yesteryear might have, crestfallen, let her do so: the Shelley of today would not.

"You hypocritical bitch!"

Valerie halted. She rounded on Shelley, lips pursed, fire in her eyes. "What?"

"I said, you are a hypocritical bitch," Shelley reiterated. "And I'm going to add that you're a lying, jealous, pimpled hag."

"At least I'm not a chubby, pathetic whore."

---

I should note, Sam, that there is some additional debate about whether Shelley or Valerie lunged first, but the gist of it is that, very shortly, a lot of slapping, clawing, and general wrestling ensued.

---

"Oi!"

Much to the dismay of several male spectators, fellow Ravenclaw Alexa Kyle intervened, practically dragging Valerie away from Shelley.

"Val! Val, leave her alone! It's..."

"Oh, let me go, Alexa," snapped Valerie, but now that she was a safe distance from Shelley, Alexa released her, and Valerie straightened up, lifting her now bruised chin haughtily. "You're old news, Shelley." And that was her farewell, for she then turned and continued on into the Great Hall. Shelley, on the other hand, found she had rather lost her appetite.

(Tuesday)

"Potter."

"Evans."

The Head Boy and Girl greeted one another with polite nods, which Lily then extended to Carlotta, who stood at James's side in the Common Room early Tuesday evening.

"Hullo, Carlotta."

"Lily."

There was a moment of weird silence, and then Lily smiled and attempted to joke: "You coming too? We can make a party of it."

Carlotta smiled and shook her head. "Rather not—I prefer to eat supper from time to time. It is strange that Madam Keepdown should schedule your meeting so early."

Lily and James exchanged a look so brief that it went blessedly unnoticed. "Very strange," Lily agreed. "But we should really be on our way..."

"Right," said James. With one last peck on the cheek, Carlotta released her boyfriend, and James followed Lily out of the Common Room.

"You haven't told her, then?" asked Lily in the corridor. "Why you got the meeting pushed back?"

"Not precisely."

Lily raised her eyebrows but did not push the subject.

"We really ought to develop a strategy," James remarked after a while. "For Keepdown."

"What kind of strategy?" Lily asked suspiciously. "Dung bombs?"

James fumbled about in his pockets for a moment and then frowned, disappointed. "Haven't got any on me. But that's the right kind of thinking, Snaps. Best defense is a good offense, yeah?"

"I think you've got that backwards."

"That doesn't make it any less true."

"So what did you have in mind, then?" Lily asked. They reached the descending staircase.

"Well, I don't suppose she'll be exactly pleased with us," James pointed out. "I mean, she knows we're in these things together, and she's probably knows that's on account of our complaining about her."

"And she wasn't exactly organizing parades in our honor to begin with," Lily agreed. "But I don't care what she thinks, and I don't expect there's much we can do to change her mind anyway."

"Well 'course not," said James. "But that's not what I meant. My plan is to get out of the next hour with as few awkward questions as possible. I don't want to talk about my Mum or Dad, or anything bad that happened last year, or Shelley Mumps, or Carlotta, or the war, or... anything along those lines."

"So, essentially, anything that she might have any interest in hearing about from you?"

James grinned. "You're catching on."

"So what exactly are you planning on talking to her about?"

"Quidditch."

"You think that's going to work?" said Lily, amused. "Somehow Madam Keepdown doesn't strike me as the type to be terribly interested in Puddlemere United scores."

"That doesn't matter. She's supposed to be talking about what we want to talk about, right? And I want to talk about Quidditch."

"All right." The Head Girl shrugged.

"Unless you're keen on spilling your life's secrets to the Head Boy and the Hack?" James added. Lily raised her eyebrows, and he nodded: "That's what I thought."

"I've got to admit that it will be a bit strange," Lily confessed. "Your being there, I mean."

James looked at her. "Well thanks."

"What? It's not going to be weird for you?"

"No." Once again, Lily raised her eyebrows at him. "Because," he clarified, "I will be discussing Quidditch."

They reached the door to Madam Keepdown's office, but it was uncharacteristically closed, and the Heads hesitated.

"Do we knock or...?"

Lily held up her hand for silence though, leaning close and listening, for—as James realized a moment later—the sound of voices snuck through the door.

"Is that...?"

"Shelley," said Lily. "It's Shelley's voice."

And it was, except—aside from her distressed tone, mixed in with Madam Keepdown's calmer interludes—it was difficult to hear what exactly was uttered. Lily stepped back, moving far enough away so that she might not get even the gist of what Shelley and Keepdown were saying—though it might have been too late for that. She folded her arms, leaned against the wall behind her, and kept her eyes on the floor. James could not stand so still, however, and he strolled about, occasionally cracking his knuckles, stopping himself, shoving his hands into his pockets, getting distracted, fidgeting again, and then repeating the process.

A few minutes passed.

"It's like overhearing someone's confession," Lily said glumly after a while.

"Confession of what?"

"What? Oh." She shook her head. "Never mind."

More silence between them, but all the while, Shelley's voice seemed to be growing louder, or perhaps their ears simply adapted. Either way, it only made the situation more awkward.

"Maybe we should come back another time..." James suggested.

Lily opened her mouth, probably to agree, but then Madam Keepdown's door opened, and the witch herself emerged, at least partially. Her head and shoulders leaned through the doorway, and she said in a voice somewhat more flustered than her usual airy tone: "I'm so sorry, my friends, if you'll only wait a few more minutes, I'll be with you..."

"Oh, you have appointments!" Shelley could be heard saying—gasping, really—followed by the screeching of chair legs dragged across the floor. The door opened all the way, and Shelley appeared, blotchy-faced and disheveled from weeping. Lily and James both tried very hard not to look at her, but she certainly noted them, and her face turned ashen. She swept passed the lot of them, her feet pattering rapidly against the stone floor all the way to the end of the corridor.

"Shelley, dear..." Madam Keepdown called uselessly after the retreating blonde.

"I'll go..." said Lily, but Madam Keepdown touched her arm gently and shook her head.

"No. I'll be back in a moment. You're welcome to make yourself at home in the office, I'll just be a..." But she was already taking off after Shelley.

Lily eyed the open door of the office doubtfully.

"Or we could wait here," she said, with a hopeful look at James, who could not have agreed more. The less time spent in Keepdown's stuffy scented office, the better.

So, they waited again. James wondered if this would count as part of their scheduled appointment. After a while, however, he noted that Lily was looking at him—somewhat pointedly, and he found that he would rather not know what it was she was trying to communicate with her elevated eyebrows. The fact that he had caught her eye made this that much more difficult, however, and eventually he couldn't get away with it any longer.

"Oh, c'mon, what?"

"You know what," she said shortly.

"I suppose you think this is my fault?"

Lily continued to give him that particularly obnoxious look.

"It's not. This is not my fault. That is not my fault!"

"She's only acting out to get your and Carlotta's attention."

"So? What exactly do you expect me to do about it?" asked James. "Am I supposed to be blamed for being irresistible?"

Lily unfolded her arms. "Oh, don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Make this a joke."

"It is a joke. It's a big, pathetic, stupid joke, and I'm sick of it. I tried talking to Shelley, and it didn't make a bit of a difference, and as far as I can tell, her shagging someone else's boyfriend and making everyone hate her has absolutely nothing to do with anything I did."

"No, I suppose that was your girlfriend's influence," muttered Lily.

"Excuse me?"

Maybe she regretted saying it, just a little, but Lily stood her ground. "She spent half of last year trying to get Frank Longbottom to shag her, didn't she?"

"Shelley's her own person," snapped James. "Carlotta didn't force her to shag Charlie Plex anymore then she forced your best mate to."

"Yeah, and Donna ended up in the Hospital Wing, remember?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," said Lily. "It's just... you reap what you sow. Carlotta included."

"So this is Carlotta's fault?" said James heatedly. Lily didn't seem to want to get into it; she folded up her arms again and shrugged. "Well that's what you're getting at, isn't it?"

"Oh leave it, James."

"I won't. Reap what you sow? Does that also include you?"

Lily looked at him, surprised and a bit suspicious. "What's that supposed to mean?" she echoed his question.

"Well, let's see, then. Take last year. You saved Logan Harper's life—he was a death eater, and I reckon his last few months weren't spent rescuing puppies. Did you sow all of that, Evans?"

Lily looked as though she'd been slapped. And James did regret it, right away. "Okay, Snaps, I..."

"Don't 'Snaps' me, Potter."

"I didn't mean..."

"Terribly sorry," broke in Madam Keepdown, as she returned from her errand, looking every bit as disconcerted as she had been on leaving them. "Won't you step inside?" She didn't seem to notice that Lily was flushed red with anger and James with embarrassment, as the two Head students shuffled into her office, Lily rather ahead of James and without looking at him.

"Listen, Lily, I don't think..." James muttered hastily, trying to get the apology in before Madam Keepdown entered and started analyzing the living daylights out of everything.

"I don't care what you think."

"But..."

"Well, good evening," said Keepdown; she walked over to her chair and sat down, while Lily sat down at the very edge of the sofa, probably attempting to put as much space between herself and the Head Boy as possible. He sat at the opposite corner, but all the same, it wasn't a very large couch. "Once again, I apologize for my tardiness—another student required my attention." As if they were not well aware of this fact. Still, Madam Keepdown seemed to be regaining her equanimity a little as she continued to speak. "How are you two tonight?"

The scowls on both young faces utterly belied their simultaneous response: "Brilliant."

Madam Keepdown looked understandably skeptical. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

"...Oh?"

Lily sighed and leaned back on the sofa. "How's Shelley?" she asked.

"Oh. Well, dear, you must know I couldn't possibly discuss anything disclosed to me by another student."

"Of course," said Lily dryly.

"But... if you did want to—perhaps have a word with her later this evening, I'm sure she wouldn't object to seeing a friendly face. Although..." this to James: "Perhaps, dear, it would better if you didn't try to..."

"Right."

"Right. So..." Keepdown adjusted her robes around her knees. "Down to business. What would you two like to talk about?"

"Well..." began James, but Lily cut him off.

"I'd like to talk about James," she said.

---

Okay, I'm not proud of this, Sam.

---

"What?" said James.

"I want to talk about you, James," Lily said again, very cheerful. "I don't know, you've just seemed a touch bogged down lately. Preoccupied. Don't you think so, Madam Keepdown? Like something's—bothering him, or…"

"Nothing's bothering me," James spoke quickly over her. "And that's not funny, Evans."

---

But James had hit something of a sore spot.

---

"I'm not trying to be funny, I just think we should discuss whatever it is that's clearly on your mind, especially if it's going to interfere with your ability to be Head Boy…"

"My ability to…?"

"You know…" With such sincere concern: "I wonder if it might have anything to do with your girlfriends… sorry, girlfriend—slip of the tongue there…"

---

Really, really not proud.

---

"Do you really want to venture down this road, Evans?"

"…It's funny how that happens sometimes, when you mean to say one thing but something else just slips out like that…"

"…Because I am more than happy to oblige if you really want to…"

"…Because obviously I didn't mean to imply that James had multiple girlfriends—that would be ridiculous. To string two birds along like that, he'd just have to be the worst sort of person…"

"…You know, Madam Keepdown, I think we should talk about Lily, and how curiously obsessed she is with my love life…"

"Everyone's curiously obsessed with your love life, you're so busy flaunting it…"

"…Oh, but perhaps that's simply because she has nothing going on in her own…"

"Not that you'd notice, how busy you've been with your girlfriends… sorry. Girlfriend. Why do I keep doing that?"

"Heard from Harper lately, Snaps? No, of course not, you're too busy writing letters to my cousin, which, I have to say, I find extremely weird!"

"You see, Madam Keepdown—all this anger…? Something is bothering our dear James…"

"I'll give you a hint what it is—she's sitting next to me and looks like a leprechaun."

"At least my hair doesn't look like a woodland creature crawled onto the top of my head and died…"

"At least I don't turn into a radish after standing in the sunlight for five minutes."

"That's quite true, you can tan much better than I can… something else you have in common with Shelley…"

"Oi, that's the best you can do, Evans?"

"Says the bloke who's bragging about his ability to tan…"

"Well, that's…"

"Excuse me!" Madam Keepdown at last interrupted, and now that the two students actually looked at her, they saw that the unfortunate woman appeared rather frazzled. "Really, now," she went on. "I admit I was expecting a certain amount of passive aggression directed at myself, but not between the two of you…"

James snorted. "Clearly, you don't know us very well."

---

I would like to say that things improved after that.

They didn't.

---

The walk back to the Common Room was equal parts silent and uncomfortable. James tested the waters once or twice by clearing his throat, but when he did, Lily only quickened her pace, and he resolved to let her calm down on her own time.

He promptly broke that resolution as they reached the seventh floor.

"Oh, c'mon, Evans... I said I was sorry, and you sort of hit me with a bludger in there with Keepdown anyway, so don't you reckon we're even?"

"Oh, perfectly."

"Then why do you still look like you want to set me on fire?"

"I don't want to set you on fire. Push you off a bridge, perhaps, but not set you on fire..."

"All right, I admit, it was a git thing to say. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you..."

"No."

"Why not?"

They had now reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and Lily at last halted and turned to face the Head Boy.

"Because you don't think," she said. "You just—you just say things, and you don't think, and it's frustrating. Just like with Shelley... oh, I know it's not your fault, but it never even seems to occur to you that Shelley acts like this because she fancies you. You have no idea what you..." Lily broke off rather abruptly and pushed the hair in front of her forehead back. "Aurors died, all right? People with families and friends died that wouldn't have died if I hadn't helped Logan Harper, and I know that I did what I thought was right, but every time I think about it, I think about how I could have done better, and how I could have fixed it better, and for the love of Merlin, I don't need you standing there, sanctimoniously telling me off for it."

"I didn't..."

"And," she spoke over him, her voice shaking, "Now you're apologizing and acting as if it's nothing, and that just makes me feel as though I'm overreacting, and that just makes me angrier, and I'm not going to say that everything's fine if I'm still angry, and I'm still angry, so I'm not going to say everything's fine." Lily exhaled heavily. "That's all." Then, turning on her heel, she continued down the corridor, beyond the Fat Lady.

"I'm sorry!" James called after her, but Lily did not respond. "Oh come... where are you even going?"

"Nowhere!"

"Oh, clearly. You're going to find Shelley, aren't you?"

"No."

"Yes, you are!"

"No!"

"How are you going to find her?"

"Leave it!"

She reached the bend in the corridor that led to another wing of the castle and had disappeared a moment later. James frowned and turned to the Fat Lady.

"If you ask me, Dearie..."

"Didn't. Oddment."

Compelled at the sound of the password, the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and admitted him entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Half the house had just finished supper, so the Common Room was warm and crowded. James had scarcely taken two steps, before Sirius and Peter—who sat in a corner, away from the spotlight—jumped up and started towards him. Sirius's book bag was slung over one shoulder, and both Marauders wore somewhat anxious expressions.

"You're late," Sirius accused.

"Long story," said James. "Are you lot ready?"

"Yes," said Peter, and quietly he added: "We've got the cloak and everything, so we can go now..."

James cast a wary eye around the Common Room. "Where's Carlotta? I should say goodbye..."

"She's upstairs, but the transformation'll start in five minutes," said Sirius impatiently. "There isn't time."

"You lot get started without me. I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall."

"Prongs..."

"Go on. I'll be quick, I swear."

"You'd better."

"Yeah, yeah, hurry up."

Rolling their eyes, Peter and Sirius complied, crossing the Common Room, while James proceeded up the staircase to the dormitories, two steps at a time.

Carlotta was stretched out on his bed with a book, which she at once set aside upon his entrance. "How was your meeting?"

"It was—fine," said James, distracted. "But I'm actually going out now, so..."

"Already?" Carlotta questioned. "It's a bit early for the pub, isn't it?"

"Remus gets to bed early," he replied quickly, but not too quickly. "Have you been up here this whole time?"

"Mhm."

"I never knew you to be antisocial."

"I grow weary with the stupidity of the general population."

"They're not as bad as all that."

"Aren't they?" Carlotta shrugged, and James bent over to kiss her on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? I could wait up..."

"It'll be late."

"I thought Remus went to bed early."

"Mmm... sleepover." Another peck, and then James straightened up. "See you tomorrow."

If he had not been in a hurry, he might have noted the forced quality of her smile. However, he slipped quickly out of the dormitory none-the-wiser, and Carlotta was not required to maintain her false acceptance for very long.

(Thursday)

James was still asleep when Carlotta left the dormitories and stalked sourly down to breakfast on her own. There was something infuriating about knowing that her boyfriend—after spending the whole evening with another girl in Madam Keepdown's counseling—had then spent the whole night gallivanting about Merlin-knew-where with his lousy mates; however, if that had been the extent of it, Carlotta did not think she would have minded too much. The truly infuriating part involved going to bed alone the next evening as well; apparently, Lupin had injured himself or gotten sick or something (James was characteristically and annoyingly tightfisted with the details), and the whole lot of them had been off in the Hospital Wing till all hours.

To say that she was in a bad mood would constitute a criminal understatement, and so when Carlotta arrived in the Great Hall by herself that morning and found the—or an—object of her irritation at Gryffindor table, it was to be expected that an unpleasant situation might arise. Remus was eating a meal that could have fed two or three—a small stack of toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, and a large goblet of pumpkin juice. Apparently, trips like those from which Remus Lupin had just returned made a bloke hungry.

Carlotta sat down next to the Marauder, and he smiled politely to her, taking a large bite of a slice of toast.

"'Morning," he greeted as he swallowed. "Is Pr—James still upstairs?"

"That's right," Carlotta replied, rather coolly. Remus caught the tone and raised an eyebrow.

"Everything all right?"

"Rather not." She poured herself some pumpkin juice. "James told me what's been going on with you, and I must say, it's extremely selfish of you."

Remus froze, toast poised before his slightly agape mouth. He set down the bread. "He—he told you?"

"Yes."

"Well... what did he tell you?"

"Where the other Marauders go when you're home to visit your mum," said Carlotta impatiently. "How they sneak..." she lowered her voice, "down to the Village, and you all get looped, and frankly, I think it's appalling of you to ask that of them."

"I..."

"I'm very sorry that your mum is ill, but asking the boys to sneak around like that is just wrong. If they got caught, they could be expelled, especially these days, and, on top of that, I hardly think goblets and goblets of firewhiskey is a healthy solution to your clearly unresolved mother-issues."

Remus just stared at her. For several seconds, words failed him, and then he managed to reply: "It... it wasn't my idea..."

"Well of course not," said Carlotta, grabbing herself a piece of toast from the platter. Evidently, the fancy that Remus would concoct such a scheme was ludicrous. "But you let them do it. It's dangerous!"

"Well." Remus swallowed. "Perhaps you should share your concerns with your boyfriend."

"Don't think I haven't! But he does exactly as he pleases regardless of risks—you must know that—and he doesn't see how much trouble he could get into for something like that."

She spared a glance at the young wizard and saw that the shock of her accusation was wearing off somewhat, to be replaced by annoyance—even anger.

"I suppose you think it's none of my business," she went on, a bit defensively. "But I care about James, and if you cared about him, you wouldn't allow them to..."

"Good morning," Sirius Black's voice cut in, completely disregarding the fact that he in doing so, he interrupted a conversation. He seated himself across from Remus, and, almost immediately, Peter and James joined them as well—James sitting down to Carlotta's right, and Peter to Sirius's.

Carlotta trailed off, and Remus continued to stare at her with a mixture of resentment and—she now realized—hurt.

"Good m..." James began to say, before noticing the tension. "What's wrong?"

Carlotta picked up her goblet of pumpkin juice to occupy herself, and when she had taken a drink, replied hastily: "Nothing."

"Something, I think," said Sirius skeptically. "Moony, what's wr...?"

"Nothing's wrong," said Remus. He got to his feet. "Carlotta was just sharing her concerns about your activities the other night."

Sirius and Peter both looked at James. "About—about going to the Village so he could apparate in from his mum's to share a pint...?" the Head Boy said quickly, returning their worried expressions with a meaningful movement of his eyebrows.

"Right," said Peter. "Well, that's..."

They all looked at Carlotta, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Well it's true," she defended herself. "And you lot might want to keep your voices down—you could get into a lot of trouble, and I was just telling Remus..."

"That I'm being selfish in asking you to do it," Remus said, speaking heatedly over her. "So perhaps you ought not to bother in the future..."

Picking up his book bag, he slung it over one shoulder and retreated in haste from the hall. For a few seconds, the remaining Marauders were quiet, and Carlotta did not meet anyone's eye, staring intently at her nearly empty plate instead. Then, in unison, Sirius and James spoke up: "Apologize to Remus."

When she looked up at them, the witch was not sure who appeared angrier, but both had fixed her with intense stares.

"I will not," she replied sharply. "I meant it. It is selfish."

"I can't believe she just said that," muttered Sirius. "I can't believe she just told Moony that, and so close to—to his getting back, he's not right as it is, and..." He appealed to James, who seemed to be in full agreement.

"You have to apologize to Remus," he repeated, deadly serious.

"Why? He's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle it."

"Oh, sure," muttered Peter. "Least of all, now..."

"Apologize to Lupin," said Sirius.

"Oh, so you're all ganging up on me, is that it?" The three Marauders only looked at her, very coldly. Carlotta rolled her eyes. "Fine." She got up and stomped away from the table, her posture fully communicating her disapproval. She moved quickly, reaching the marble staircase just as Remus arrived on the top step.

"Oi, I'm sorry," Carlotta called after him, and he paused. He turned to her, and he must have noted that her expression was anything but apologetic. "I'm sorry! Feel better now?"

"Sincere, that," remarked Remus sarcastically. "Really, really touching." He looked awful, Carlotta noticed for the first time: exhausted, pale, and weary, as though he were just getting over a bad case of the flu, and it was possible that she imagined it, but a faint sheen seemed to have formed over his brow, like a cold sweat. For a few moments, she felt very, very guilty: "I've got an idea, Carlotta." Remus descended exactly one step. "Why don't you run along to your boyfriend and spend as much time as you can with him, because honestly, with all of this Shelley business and everything else, for some reason or another, I just can't imagine it lasting too much longer between you two. Cheers."

Then he disappeared down the first floor corridor; Carlotta's guilt had vanished; she returned to the Great Hall, silently fuming. The other Marauders remained sullen throughout the remainder of breakfast.

(The Ravenclaws)

"Well I've snogged 'em both," said Charlie Plex, taking a bite of bacon and not bothering to cover his mouth as he chewed. "And all I can say, is if it was me, I'd take Meloni over Mumps any day."

Donovan Atwater, Charlie's friend and companion at Ravenclaw table that morning, snorted, but at least waited until he'd swallowed his food to reply. "'Suppose so. 'Reckon Meloni's a better shag, too."

"Oh, sure," said Charlie. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

"You've never had Carlotta though, so you don't know. Anyway..." Atwater shrugged; "Mumps has that 'Maybe a Virgin' thing going for her. I won't say it's not a bit of a turn on."

"Believe me..." Charlie took a gulp of pumpkin juice. "Mumps is no virgin."

"Yeah, but she looks like it." Atwater licked his lips and raised his eyebrows, an expression that made Charlie smirk. "I wouldn't be surprised if Potter decided to have a go with Mumps."

Charlie looked skeptical. "Two galleons he doesn't. Hand over the pudding, will..."

"I'll take that bet," someone else cut in before Charlie could finish his request of Donovan, and the two Ravenclaws looked over their shoulder to see a fifth year Slytherin by the name of Mundungus Fletcher standing there. He appeared as though he had just been passing by the Ravenclaw table, but had now stopped with every intention of taking Charlie Plex up on the throw-away bet.

"Er... what?" said Atwater, eyeing Fletcher distrustfully.

"I'll take the bet," said the Slytherin. "Two galleons, y'said?"

"You'll do anything for a sickle, won't you, Fletcher?" said Charlie, and he rolled his eyes. "I wasn't serious."

"Well," said Fletcher, a short, ginger boy with features that seemed a little too large for his face. "If ya think you're wrong, mate, I won' mind takin' the other end of the bet."

"It's not a bet," sniffed Charlie. "I wasn't even speaking to you."

Mundungus shrugged and looked to Donovan Atwater. "And you?"

"He's not going to take you're stupid bet, Fletcher."

"All right," said Atwater. "Two galleons, was it?" Charlie looked at his friend incredulously, and Atwater shrugged. "What's two galleons?"

"That's the spirit, mate," said Mundungus. "What's a pair of galleons to a Plex and an Atwater, yes? Now. What're we bettin' on?"

Charlie and Donovan both looked at the Slytherin again, eyebrows raised. "Are you mental? You don't even know what you're betting on?"

Mundungus shrugged. "Like ya say, I'll do anythin' for the chance to fetch a sickle."

"Two galleons," Atwater corrected. "And we're betting on whether Potter ends up getting Shelley Mumps in the sack."

A derisive "Ha!" cut into their conversation. Valerie Turpin, who had recently taken the seat across from Charlie and Donovan, now wore an expression of revulsion. "As if any sensible bloke would touch that twat." She paused. "Literally."

"Tell me about it," said Charlie.

The other three looked at him. "Seriously, mate?" said Donovan.

"What?" He grinned. "She seduced me. I'm irresistible."

Prudence Daly, who sat to Donovan Atwater's left, rolled her eyes and chipped in with: "You're despicable, Charlie Plex."

"No one asked you, Mouse."

"Oi, don't pick on Prudence," said Valerie.

"All very int'resting, this is," said Mundungus. "But am I bettin' for or against Mumps?"

"Against," chorused Valerie and Atwater.

"You're not even in this, Turpin," Charlie pointed out, and to Mundungus he added: "I'll put two galleons down for Meloni."

"I'll put two for Carlotta Meloni as well," said Valerie.

Sabrina Barbery, who sat next to Valerie, turned away from her faltering conversation with a sixth year boy and took interest in the other dialog at hand. "What about Carlotta Meloni now?"

"They're betting on whether or not James Potter sticks with Carlotta or starts seeing Shelley Mumps," said Prudence.

"Seein' or shaggin'?" Mundungus wanted to know.

"Crass," remarked Sabrina. "I'll put a galleon or two on Shelley, if you're still taking bets."

"Sabrina," Valerie reprimanded her housemate coldly. "After what that tart did to poor Clancy Goshawk?"

Sabrina shrugged. "We're betting, Love, not voting, and you did your job too well. Carlotta's reputation isn't what it used to be." She turned to the girl seated to her right. "Wouldn't you say, Alexa?"

"What are you talking about?" asked the confused Alexa Kyle.

"Carlotta Meloni and Shelley Mumps. Val here thinks..."

Mundungus, meanwhile, looked extremely thoughtful.

---

Carlotta sat down next to James in Transfiguration that afternoon, and the other Marauders immediately drew away: Remus picked up his book, and Sirius and Peter leaned back in their desks, as if nervous that she might infect them with something airborne. The gesture was not lost on Carlotta at all, but more offensive still was the fact that James did not even look up when she sat down.

"You're still cross with me then, are you?" she whispered, so that it went unheard by the rest of the chattering class.

"No, I'm not cross with you," said James sarcastically. "Why would I be cross with you?"

"That's a good question," she retorted. "I don't think I've done anything wrong."

"And that right there is why I'm cross with you."

"Oh, come off it! I apologized." She glanced at Remus, grateful he did not seem to hear this conversation.

"And judging by the fact that you just said 'I don't think I've done anything wrong,' I'd say it was one heartfelt apology, too."

"Would you like me to do it again?" Carlotta snapped.

"Would it matter if I did?"

Carlotta scowled. "Fine. Remus!"

Remus looked up at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, recognizing that her voice sounded a bit strangled. "I really am."

"Brilliant," said Remus; he returned to his book. James rolled his eyes.

"You really just don't understand it, do you?" he whispered furiously.

"No, I really don't."

"They're my best mates, Carlotta."

Carlotta's eyes narrowed. "And I'm—what? Just the girl you sleep with?"

"That's not what I meant."

"That's how it sounded."

"I'm sorry: have I done something wrong now?" asked James. "Because I thought I was just standing up for my mate."

"Well you should be standing up for me."

"But you're wrong," said James simply. He could not comprehend the lack of understanding between them. "And you..." he lowered his voice even more, "you hurt Remus, and if he'd done the same to you, I'd say this to him."

He watched her, waiting for some kind of response, but she had none, for she knew he was right. It wasn't as if he hadn't proven himself so far, and she ought to have said something, but—oh what was wrong with her? Professor McGonagall entered the classroom a moment later, fortunately, and her implicit demand for silence spared Carlotta from answering her boyfriend.

---

"Come again?" said Lily, arching her eyebrows. She did not particularly like any interruption on her way to luncheon, and so it took the realization of years of practiced politeness not to tell Mundungus Fletcher to stop impeding her path to the Great Hall and speak to her again when she'd put food in her stomach.

"I said, would ya care to place a bet, Evans?"

"A bet on what, Fletch?" She shifted her weight, hiking up the strap of her book bag and moving the Transfiguration and Charms texts she carried from one hip to the other. Students from all houses and years filtered past her, fortunate that Mundungus was occupied and their own paths to food remained blessedly unobstructed.

"Meloni versus Mumps."

Lily arched an eyebrow. "Meloni versus Mumps. You mean Carlotta versus Shelley?"

"Yep."

"And what are you betting on?"

"Which bird Potter picks."

"Which one he picks?" Lily rolled her eyes. "Are you mental? Potter's already picked. He's dating Carlotta; he's not going to off and dump her just because some other girl fancies him or..." She broke off and cleared her throat.

"'Don't matter much," said Mundungus. "There's a ten percent take."

"And there it is."

"What?"

"The reason you're doing this. Fletch, I've got hand it to you—monetizing gossip... it might be sickly brilliant."

"Witch Weekly's been doin' it for years. How much shall I put ya down for?"

"I don't want to bet. And Potter's going to strangle you when he hears."

"Then I reckon I hope he doesn' hear."

---

"Mundungus Fletcher is taking bets on whether or not you're going to dump Carlotta for Shelley."

With this announcement, Sirius Black dropped onto the seat beside his best friend, who in turn looked over, his face frozen even as he was halfway chewing a bite of sandwich. He finished chewing, and said: "What?"

"Yep."

"I'm going to strangle him."

"Yep."

"Where is he?"

"Entrance Hall." Sirius began to load food onto his own plate. "I think Moony's handling it, though."

"What's he doing?"

"Lecturing Mundungus."

"And that's going to work?"

"Moony's an expert at a good stern lecture."

"I'm going to strangle him."

"Moony or Mundungus?"

"Dung, of course."

"Yeah, he's a git. And I really ought to point out that Moony's being an awfully good sport coming to Carlotta's defense at all, considering what she said this morning."

"Well what about my defense?"

"I doubt anyone's betting out of spite for you."

"Fair enough. I'll go relieve Moony." James pushed his plate away and started to get up, but Remus took that moment to join them—with Peter.

"Mundungus Fletcher is..." began the latter.

"I know," said James

"Oh, Padfoot told you? Yeah, well he's moved off for now."

"Do I have to hex anyone?" asked James, sitting down again, as Remus sat beside Sirius and Peter beside Remus.

"No," said Lupin. "I told him you'd tell Devang Patil who really blamed him for trying to tamper with the anti-cheating quills before the exams last year if he didn't call it off."

"Told ya Moony was a professional," remarked Sirius.

"Thank-you, Moony."

"'Course." But Remus didn't really look at him as he grabbed a sandwich off the platter.

Sirius and Peter exchanged glances, and James shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, mate, I'm really sorry about earlier—Carlotta had no right to say what she said, and you know we..." he gestured to the other two, "don't think like that."

"Yeah, I know." He poured himself a glass of water. "It's fine, Prongs, don't worry about it."

"Yeah, but..."

"Leave it, Prongs."

"Okay..." He looked appealing to Sirius, who only shook his head.

Carlotta arrived, taking the vacant seat beside James. "Oi, did you know that Mundungus Fletcher was..."

"Yes," chorused the Marauders.

"Right."

"You're not angry?" asked Peter.

"What do I care?" said Carlotta with a shrug. She began serving herself lunch, but not before scooting closer to James.

(The Hufflepuffs)

"Twenty eight sickles on Mumps," said Meghan McCormack, and Mundungus scribbled something in his notebook.

"Odds?" he asked.

Meghan considered it. "November 20th," she replied eventually. Mundungus continued to write in his notebook: the date given presented certain odds to the probability of the outcome, and therefore dictated potential profit or loss.

"Any others?" asked Dung, when he'd finished writing. He glanced around at the group of Hufflepuffs gathered at the mouth of the corridor that led to their common room; three or four others took him up, though most rolled their eyes and good-humoredly derided the project. Sheryll Fleet's name was just recorded for three galleons on Shelley, when Reginald Cattermole and Mary MacDonald arrived.

They made inquiries, and Mundungus explained the somewhat convoluted arrangement, which made Mary laugh.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to knock Shelley down a few ego notches," she said, leaning against the arm of the marble staircase behind her; "but you don't honestly believe Potter will take to her, do you?"

"Anyway," said Reginald, "It's none of our business."

"Quiet now," Mundungus replied irritably. "If they want to bet on Mumps, that's their affair..."

But a few of the Hufflepuffs began to look uncomfortable, and one of the boys who had wagered for Shelley asked if he could change his bet.

"No," snapped Dung. "You're in the notebook, and that's that."

"That's not fair," the boy protested. "I've changed my mind. Here—place the same sum on Meloni..."

"You can't do that..."

"But I..."

"Leave it, Elijah," said the girl named Sheryll. "I give Potter another week with Meloni at the most..."

"That's just what you want," Reginald argued. "I think this whole business is rubbish, anyhow. If James finds out, it'll be even more likely that he stays with Meloni..."

"Potter already knows and..." Mundungus began to say, but he realized his mistake a moment too late, for those who had just put their names down began to chatter in dissent.

"Exactly," said Reginald with passion. "So all of this betting nonsense won't make any difference! And how will you even measure the thing? If James and Carlotta get married and split in five years, I don't suppose you'll be owling everyone their winnings..."

"Shut it, Cattermole!" snapped Mundungus, but even Sheryll had begun to question the parameters of the betting, and Fletcher realized that he was in trouble.

With a hint of pride in his voice, Reginald continued: "You see? You can't promise there'll be an outcome any time at all—it's not as though you're voting..."

But alas, poor Reg ought to have quit while he was ahead.

(Saturday)

"Care to cast your vote?" asked Mundungus cheerfully. Lily glared at him.

"I told you 'no' two days ago, Fletch," she replied. "And why must you always block me when I'm trying to eat?"

"You said 'no' to a bet," the Slytherin corrected her. "This is a vote."

"A vote," she repeated, reluctantly intrigued. "On what?"

"Meloni versus Mumps."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "You're going to have to explain that."

"You pick one and cast your vote," said Mundungus. "The winner'll be announced after the Halloween feast, Sunday after this 'un. It's not very complicated, Love."

"You're voting to say which one you think... Potter should date?"

Mundungus nodded.

"You're mad," said Lily.

"Like a sphinx."

"Right. And I assume that you benefit from this somehow...?"

"Well..." He smirked. "Of course, once you've cast your vote, you're welcome to take a part in betting on the outcome..."

"With a ten percent take for you," said Lily.

"Twelve, actually. So—your vote?"

"I'm not voting, Dung."

"Wager?"

"No."

"Your loss."

"And when James hears about this, he really is going to strangle you..."

---

"This time, I really am going to strangle him..." said James, nearly upsetting a goblet of pumpkin juice as he got to his feet.

"Looks like Moony needs to brush up on his 'stern lecture' face," said Sirius, and Remus rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault Dung's got the loyalty of a Memory Charm victim," he replied. "Maybe Devang Patil already knows Dung blamed him for the anti-cheating quills..."

Peter, who had just arrived, bringing with him the news of Mundungus's latest venture, appeared as unperturbed as Remus and Sirius. "Well, he's in the Entrance Hall," he said. "Now's your chance."

"Brilliant," said James scathingly. He glanced at the other three. "You lot coming?"

Sirius frowned at his dinner plate. "I'm famished at the moment, Prongs..."

"Ravenous..." agreed Remus.

"Are you actually going to strangle him?" asked Peter. "I mean, if there's really a chance that you will, I'll come, but..."

"Don't bother," said James tiredly. "Quick reminder, though: you're the worst mates anyone has ever had."

Carlotta was arriving for supper just as James reached the Entrance Hall, and she accidentally impeded his path to Mundungus by standing on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"In a minute," he said distractedly; "I have to go kill Mundungus."

Carlotta didn't move, though. "Why do you have to kill Mundungus?" she asked suspiciously. "Not over those silly wagers, surely..."

"Oh, they're not just betting anymore," James told her wearily. "They're voting. Damn it—he's spotted me." Sure enough, Mundungus had just laid eyes on James. At once, he stuffed his little notebook under the crook of his arm, along with what appeared to be a small, square wooden box, and hurried off.

"Voting?" Carlotta inquired. "Voting for what?"

James sighed. "Meloni versus Mumps. They're voting now, on which of you is better or more date-able or Merlin knows what, and Dung is going to announce the victor on Halloween, and their taking wagers on it."

Carlotta's eyebrows shot up. "You're joking."

"Oh no, this is my not-joking face."

"Oh, Merlin."

"Yes, well, you see why it's come to homicide." He tried to sidestep her, but Carlotta now moved to block him.

"Not quite—you're not really going to attack him, are you?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"No, of course not," James replied. "I'm going to ask him very politely to stand still while I hex him."

"James."

"What?"

"Let him go," she said—half requesting, half advising. "Really, it doesn't make a bit of difference to me, and if it doesn't bother me, it can't bother you." She took his hand, only to see that the beginnings of a smile had crept up on James's face. "What?"

"You want everyone to vote," he told her, amused. "You're curious to see who will win."

"On the contrary," Carlotta replied, growing cool. "I find the whole affair demeaning, silly, and personally insulting. But if you go tell Mundungus off for it, it will only validate the thing. Shelley will skip about saying I made you shut him up, and that I'm manipulating you from following your heart straight to her." She stepped closer. "If you let them vote and wager, Shelley might win, which will make her insufferable, yes, but let's be honest—Shelley probably won't win. And if she loses, she'll be embarrassed and hopefully shut up about the whole thing."

"Won't she be upset?"

"I doubt it—she can't honestly expect to win, can she?"

"Terribly confident, aren't you?"

Carlotta shrugged. She tapped a passing second year on the shoulder, and he stopped, surprised. "Hello. Excuse me—sorry to interrupt, but do you know my name?"

The second year's bafflement only grew. "Carlotta Meloni?"

"Yes, thank you. And can you tell me who Michelle Mumps is?"

He frowned. "Does she teach Herbology?"

Carlotta beamed. "Yes, that's right. Run along now." She turned to her boyfriend. "You see my point."

"I see it, yes," James allowed. "I also see a dismal future for the next generation. I hope that boy wasn't in Gryffindor..." Carlotta laughed. "But admit it," James went on, beginning for the Great Hall again, Carlotta at his side; "you also want to know that you've won…"

"I do not. Oi—hold up." She stopped him just before the Great Hall. "One more thing: before all this voting and betting nonsense came up... we were in a quarrel." Carlotta tilted her head expectantly, as if to add: Are we now?

James sighed again. "I'll apologize if you do?" But that he'd already given up most of his anger over the matter was obvious.

"You know I never apologize," Carlotta teased. "What if I say... instead, that I won't give you any trouble if Remus has to go home again. Deal?"

"Deal."

They kissed on it and went into luncheon.

---

"New Witch Weekly," said Mary, plopping onto her bed and beaming at the magazine in question. "I've waited my whole life for this."

Donna, who sat on her own bed that grey Saturday evening, Defense book in hand, rolled her eyes. "You only got it this morning."

"Stop spoiling everything," replied Mary, as she opened the front cover delicately. "It's been a long day of thinking and N.E.W.T. work, and it's evenings like this that I want nothing more than to sit back and read a bunch of nosy wenches critique Celestina's clothing choices."

"Celestina?" echoed Donna.

"Warbeck."

"You're on first name terms with her, are you?"

"When I'm holding Witch Weekly I am."

Donna snorted.

"Oh, look, there it is. Celestina pairs her magenta gown with avocado boots, and the outcome is surprisingly unspectacular..."

"Why do you bother with those?" Donna wanted to know. "If nothing else, I'd have thought you'd have your fill of gossip with all this 'Meloni versus Mumps' business."

"Oh, that's a whole different type of entertainment. Have you voted yet?"

"Yet? Don't be an idiot."

"Well—oh, Honoria Marchbanks is having another baby—anyway... what was I saying? Oh, right. I voted for Carlotta."

"Shocking."

"What? It's funny."

"It really isn't."

"Certainly more entertaining than your rubbish textbooks."

"How many O.W.L.s did you get again, MacDonald?"

"Ha, ha, very funny. Oi, Isabella Creigh broke up with that Quidditch player..."

"Shocking," said Donna again, not really listening.

"And Everett Capshaw is..."

"Must you narrate the entire thing?" Donna interrupted, and she set down her book. "I only have a very limited amount of time to read Ramsay's assignment, and I've got to have it done twice, in case there's a quiz..."

"Well Marlene's doing her Transfiguration downstairs, and Lily's got Head Girl business, so who else am I supposed to narrate to?" asked Mary petulantly.

"Literally anyone?"

"Merlin, Felicia is getting heavy."

Giving up, Donna climbed off her bed. "I'm taking a shower. You had better have this out of your system by the time I return."

"...Well it's her third child, so I suppose you can't blame her..."

Donna went to her dresser and began collecting her night clothes from one of the drawers. "I don't care, Mary."

"...But it pretty much kills the last hope that she'd be back on the Harpies anytime soon..."

"Don't care!" Donna chanted.

"...Not that anyone's realistically thought she'd go back since she married that Canadian…"

"Still don't care!"

"But it's still sad. Oh, look, another piece on Celestina's shoes..."

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Donna selected the ideal pajamas and closed the drawer with her hip.

"...And the Minister's marriage seems to be in trouble again. Of course. Merlin, I loathe politics..."

Donna actually laughed at that as she moved into the lavatory. She stopped in front of the mirror to undo the tie in her hair.

"Hullo, Mary," said a new voice, and Donna peaked out to see Lily entering. "Hullo, Donna," the Head Girl added, spotting her.

"What are you doing in here, Dormitory Traitor?" asked Mary, not looking up from her magazine. "And did you know that Felicia Fray...?"

"Had her third?" said Lily, heading towards Marlene's trunk. "Yep. She looks fantastic."

"She looks awful."

"You're too judgmental."

"She won't be playing Quidditch any time soon..."

"Rubbish, she promised she'd be back next season..."

"Ha."

"You both disgust me," said Donna, and she returned to the battle with her hair tie, which seemed to be stuck in her extensive curls.

"But look at her," Mary went on. "She's gained weight, you can't deny it."

Lily had started rummaging through Marlene's book bag, which sat on her trunk, and shrugged in response to Mary. "Well she's been carrying a baby in her for months, what do you expect?"

"I thought you had Head Girl rubbish!" called Donna from the other room.

"'Finished—McGonagall just wanted to speak with Potter and me. We're supposed to decorate the Great Hall for Halloween next week."

"Jolly."

"Riveting, to be sure." Lily began rummaging around in Marlene's book bag. "Anyway, I wanted to see what Marlene wrote about Coloring Charms..."

"Oh, engagements: my favorite," Mary went on with her magazine. "Celestina and Hollis Smoot. I thought they were already engaged. Merlin, I'm out of touch."

"With something, yes," agreed Donna.

"...Who in Merlin's name is Abigail Minchen? A second stringer for the Wanderers? Honestly, the people that make the news these days..."

"That's not the news, MacDonald. That's Witch Weekly."

"The notes are definitely not here. She said they were in her bag..."

"There's a picture of Narcissa Black's engagement ring... Merlin, I wish I were rich..."

"...Maybe they're in the desk?"

"Who's Delia Greengrass?"

"We don't caaare."

"Yes, but who is she? They can't just put names in Witch Weekly and expect everyone to know!"

"You always know, though, Mary. Maybe she put them in her trunk..."

"Who put what in her trunk?"

"Marlene put her notes."

"Oh, you're still on about that. But really, I'm curious about this Delia Greengrass bird. They must have a picture her somewhere..."

"Honestly, MacDonald, if you spent just half the energy on school that you devote to those silly celebrities of yours..."

"Damn it, Marlene, you said they were in your bag..."

"...You'd be almost as clever as I am."

"Delia Greengrass. Delia Greengrass. Delia Greengrass... the name doesn't sound terribly familiar. Oh, there it is—oh, she works for the Ministry..."

"Almost."

"Boring."

"Oh, never mind it—Donna, can I borrow your notes? I can't find Marlene's anywhere..."

"Mmm, but don't wrinkle the parchment... Goddamn hair tie—it's stuck..."

"Well I hope she's cute at least, you know?"

"Try a loosening charm, Donna. Where are your notes?"

"Next to the bed..."

"I said, I hope she's cute at least, you know?"

"Which bed?"

"Is anyone listening to me?"

"My bed, of course."

"Oh, of course..."

"No one's listening to me, are they?"

"...Because in a room full of beds..."

"I hope she's cute at least, you know?"

"...We could only be referring to Donna Shacklebolt's bed!"

"...No one ever listens to my stories..."

"Finally! Damn curly hair. The notes are right there, Lily!"

"Oh, I see them..."

"Rubbish mates, you lot are. Never listen to anything I say..."

"Merlin's sake, Mary." Lily, having located the notes, set them down. "We are listening, we're just a bit busy. Now what were you saying?"

"I hope she's cute at least," said Mary with dignity, chin high but eyes still on the magazine in her hand.

"Who?" asked Lily wearily.

"Delia Greengrass."

"Who's Delia Greengrass?"

"Some witch who works at the Ministry."

Lily raised an eyebrow and proceeded to tuck Donna's Charms notes into the book bag on her hip. "And why do you care if she's cute?"

"Because she's engaged to Auror Gorgeous," said Mary, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Distracted: "Who?"

"That Lathe bloke!"

Lily stopped fussing about her papers. Donna stopped de-tangling her hair. "What?" said the former. "Where did you hear that?"

Mary looked at her. "Oh, y'know, he sent me a personal owl ten minutes ago, so—where do you bloody think I heard it?" She held up Witch Weekly. Lily jumped over Donna's bed and snatched up the magazine in question. Her eyes scanned the text for a moment.

"It says rumored," said Lily quickly, looking haplessly to Donna.

Mary shrugged. Donna, who had not so much as turned, quickly resumed her battle with her hair; she was only visible in profile, but her reaction was evident: she glared into the mirror and had rather lost focus of the tangles in her hair. Mary, though out of the loop on any subtext of the moment, noticed, at least, that some subtext existed. She looked from Lily to Donna, confused.

"I've missed something, haven't I?"

Donna ignored this. "Does anyone need anything from in here?" she asked, voice a little higher than usual. "No? Brilliant." And she shut the door. The shower could be heard a minute later.

"I've definitely missed something," Mary concluded. "What's going on? Does Donna...?"

"Leave it," sighed Lily, tossing the magazine back onto the bed. "Agrippa's sake—why can't everyone just leave it alone...?" She left without another word. Mary scowled.

"Well if you people would just tell me things..."

---

Unfortunately, not voting in the Meloni versus Mumps did not spare me from hearing about it. I expected a certain amount of discussion about the whole thing from interested parties, but I wasn't speaking to James at the moment-not since our squabble during the meeting with Keepdown, and neither Carlotta nor Shelley eagerly pursued conversation with me most days, so I supposed the whole matter would dissipate from my social sphere long before Mundungus's meaningless Halloween announcement.

I was tragically disappointed.

Not only did the people with whom I associate who typically concern themselves with school gossip (Mary) seem to be involved, but two prefects at the next meeting asked me whether I'd "voted Carlotta," and when I very stealthily switched my patrol shift to avoid James, my partner—the fifth year Hufflepuff boy—said he had five galleons on Shelley.

Curiously enough (or maybe not), at first, Carlotta appeared to care very little for the whole ordeal.

Shelley, on the other hand, positively basked in it.

(Monday)

"I wouldn't want James to break up with his girlfriend over me! It wouldn't—it wouldn't feel right. Of course, yes, we have this—this connection, and I think—I believe he feels that too, but... who knows what the future will bring? If Carlotta's the one he wants to be with right now... well that's right now. And maybe—I don't know—maybe someday, the stars will align and..."

"Michelle Mumps, did you really skip Care of Magical Creatures to campaign in the loo?" Marlene Price interrupted, and Shelley jumped a little. The third year girls standing around her at the tap of the second floor lavatory similarly snapped out of the spell cast by Shelley's dreamy tone, and as such, they were reminded of other obligations and scattered quickly.

Shelley scowled and resumed the application of eyeliner that had been interrupted by the arrival of the third years.

"I didn't skive off for that, and I wasn't campaigning," she replied. "I just ran into a few curious children..."

"This connection... I believe he feels that too..." Marlene mimicked, pulling mascara out of her own book bag and stepping over to the available mirror beside Shelley's.

"Oh sod off..."

"No, I'm curious—what connection is that, Shelley? Did you step on his shoelaces?"

Shelley huffed. "Oh, all right, I was campaigning a little. But you have to admit, it will be a joy to watch Carlotta officially lose the only substantial thing she's ever had: popularity."

"Does she at least have a functioning definition of the word 'substantial?'"

Shelley stuck out her tongue. "What's the Care of Magical Creatures homework, anyway?"

"I'm not allowed to tell," Marlene chanted, applying her mascara. "I voted for Carlotta."

"You voted?"

"Yes, although Mary actually cast the vote. I stood idly by and thus enabled her."

Shelley snorted and began to put her cosmetics away. "I don't see how you could; Carlotta stole your boyfriend, after all."

"Carlotta didn't steal Miles," Marlene replied wryly. "He just sort of... wandered away."

"Well so did Stebbins."

"Yes, but much more recently. The wound's still fresh for her."

"I don't see why everyone gives Carlotta a free pass for everything," said Shelley resentfully. "Everyone just laughs it off because that's just Carlotta. I don't see why."

"Don't you? You did it for years." Shelley rolled her eyes and walked to the door. Marlene stopped her. "In the interest of fair warning, there are two things you should know, Shell. First, that Carlotta's already won this stupid competition, because she doesn't care. So, whatever the outcome, she's still the winner. Secondly... Chapter four."

Shelley blinked. "Chapter four?"

"Care of Magical Creatures homework. Read chapter four. There's likely to be a quiz."

---

By Monday evening, Shelley had doubled her efforts. There were rumors of bribes.

But something much stranger had begun, too.

(Tuesday)

"I hate teachers."

"Teachers need to die."

"I don't care if they die, exactly, so long as they leave me alone."

"If I ever become a teacher, punch me."

"You know, Moony," mused Sirius; "You might actually make a good teacher."

Lily, who sat with three of the Marauders in the Library Tuesday evening, raised her eyebrows. "Well you two are adorable."

Sirius thanked her, and then, less cheerily, added: "How much longer do we have to stay here?"

"You don't have to stay here at all, Padfoot," Remus pointed out. "You weren't actually invited..."

"Yeah, but Prongs is at Quidditch, and there's nothing else to do. Might as well give this so-called 'homework' business a whirl." While he spoke, Sirius twirled a quill between his fingers. "Does anyone have anything to eat?"

"Oi—look!" Lily leaned over the table, lowering her voice; "There's Clancy!"

"Yes, but I think eating her might be frowned upon, Lily..."

Lily swatted Sirius's arm. "We should invite her to sit with us!" she proposed enthusiastically. "Don't you think so, Remus?"

"Your subtlety is astounding," Remus deadpanned.

"Look..." Lily began to point at the Ravenclaw prefect, and then dropped her arm. "She's even sitting alone. I'm going to wave her over."

"Lily, please d—"

"Clancy! Oh—sorry, Ms. Sevoy. Clancy," the Head Girl repeated in a lower voice, but she already had Clancy's attention. She smiled at the four Gryffindors and started toward them. "Are you working on the ungodly amount of Transfiguration homework?"

Clancy nodded, sighing. "I've barely finished half..."

"You should join us," said Sirius. "We're doing—loads and loads of work."

"I'd like that," Clancy replied. "Let me fetch my things..."

Sirius leaned conspiratorially over the table. "Wormtail, Evans—we'll wait five minutes, and then think of an excuse..."

"Swear to Merlin, Padfoot," said Remus through gritted teeth, "if you even think of doing that I will never speak to you again..."

Sirius ignored him. "Wormtail—think you could fake a convincing illness?"

"...I swear will never speak to any of you..."

Clancy returned, and the four of them all leaned back in their chairs again. Lily summoned one for Clancy from the table beside theirs—earning her another glare from Ms. Sevoy—and dragged it to the space between her own and Remus's seats.

"So how are you all?" asked Clancy.

"To tell the truth," said Peter, "I have been feeling a little off lately..."

"Wormtail."

"Fine."

Clancy refrained from inquiring about this interlude, but she sent a puzzled glance to both Marauders, and Lily quickly changed the subject. They actually did begin to work on the Transfiguration homework, but the attention span of a group of five did not even have the time to break down naturally before a distraction of genuine interest entered the library: Carlotta.

At first, she appeared to be alone, but she'd taken two softly treaded steps inside when a Hufflepuff, Liam Lyle, followed her. He carried her book bag, and they spoke in low, library appropriate tones. Lily and the three Marauders grew alert. By the time they reached the first table, Carlotta had her bag returned to her, and Liam—grinning—had turned to leave. When he was through the door, Carlotta's expression became neutral, but when she spotted the Marauders, Lily, and Clancy, her smile vanished completely. She strolled over to the table.

"I know what you're thinking," she whispered. "But I'm not up to anything suspect."

"Does Liam Lyle know that?" asked Peter.

Carlotta rolled her eyes. "He's not dim. I was just..." She adjusted the strap of her book bag and considered: "Campaigning."

"Campaigning," Sirius and Remus echoed in interested unison.

She smiled—a real smile, this time, not like the one she'd worn for Liam. "Shelley convinced me that crushing her would be oh so much fun."

"So," began Sirius, "correct me if I'm wrong, but you're... attempting to seduce people into voting that James should date you...?"

"I'm not seducing anyone," said Carlotta. "Of course no one's voting about who James should date—not anymore, at any rate. They're just voting on which of us they like better—at least the girls are. And the blokes are voting on which of us they'd rather shag."

Lily began to understand at last: "Is that why you kept dropping your books in the corridors today?" she asked.

"So blokes could pick them up, yes," Carlotta agreed. "They love playing the hero and all of that rubbish." The Marauders continued to watch her uncertainly, to which she shrugged. "It's not as bad as it sounds. Anyway—you lot have voted, haven't you?"

They hadn't.

"Well thank-you for the support," said Carlotta sarcastically. "What about you—Clancy, is it?"

"Yes... that is, yes, I'm Clancy." The Ravenclaw nodded fervently. "But I haven't voted."

"You should," Carlotta advised, propping herself up on the back of Peter's chair. "You're Charlie Plex's former girl, aren't you? Well, then you have all the more reason to."

Clancy blushed a little. "I'll—think about it."

"Sure." Carlotta straightened up, taking a quick look about for an empty table.

"We're working on the Transfiguration," said Lily. "Do you want to join us?" Sirius kicked her under the table, but unnecessarily, it turned out, because Carlotta shook her head.

"With five of you? No thank-you. You'll never get any work done." With that, she flounced off. Lily scowled.

"Rude," said Peter.

"It was," Clancy agreed. "Of course we'll finish the work..."

---

We didn't.

---

"So, what do you suppose?" Remus wondered aloud, as Carlotta walked away. "'Think she'll win?"

Lily shrugged. "I think you shouldn't underestimate Carlotta Meloni. But," she added optimistically, "We should prove her wrong and finish all of this homework.

---

Not even close.

---

(Wednesday)

Carlotta was better than hair-flipping and invented excuses for showing cleavage. Carlotta was better than surreptitious touches and overt laughter at a stupid joke. Carlotta had a strategy all her own... mostly, she just smiled (brilliantly and convincingly), listened, and related. And that worked miracles—that made every mild flirtation, meaningless as it may have been, seem like maybe, just maybe, it meant something...

For the most part, there had been little strategy between himself and his girlfriend, and so James had only been on the receiving end of this kind of behavior briefly in the days leading up to his relationship with Carlotta. Thus, watching her work now positively enthralled him.

Dominic Callahan didn't stand a chance.

He was stammering when he bid his farewell to her outside the Potions classroom on Wednesday morning, but she acted as if she didn't notice his anxiety, until he was well down the hallway and she entered the classroom entirely. James was torn between amusement and annoyance, and so he came off simply wry.

"That was cute."

Carlotta smirked. "He hasn't voted yet."

"Ah. So you're campaigning."

"Successfully, too. Not jealous, are you?"

"No, and it wouldn't matter anyway. I'm having it out with Dung at luncheon..."

"Please, don't," she insisted, to her boyfriend's surprise.

"Why in Merlin's name not?"

She hesitated. "Because—because it won't do any good, that's all. If you stop it, everyone will think I've put you up to it and that I'm bullying Shelley..."

James's suspicion only grew, and Carlotta blushed slightly under his stare. "You really want to let this play out, don't you?" he asked.

"Well, if it doesn't..."

"Yes, yes, I know, but you don't care what the school gossips have to say about you, yeah? So there's got to be another reason you don't want Mundungus to quit it."

Carlotta knew he had her there, and she took another moment to select her words with caution. "If this thing goes through, everyone will have to leave us alone. Shelley won't go on saying I've stolen you. We'll be able to just be us, which we haven't been since the summer holiday. They'll have to let us be, won't they?"

"And if Shelley wins?"

"It won't make things worse," Carlotta reasoned. "Unless you—I mean..."

"Don't be thick."

"All right then."

James shrugged. "If that's what you want. Poor Dom Callahan, though."

"He'll survive."

Professor Slughorn marched into the classroom about then, followed by the stragglers who had been biding their time outside prior to his arrival. This group included Sirius, Remus, and Peter. The last three Marauders elected to sit two rows away from James and Carlotta, though, and this clearly bothered James. He made a face at Sirius, who stuck out his tongue in return. Someone better acquainted with their behavior might have noted and appreciated the general amicability implicit in the exchange, but as it was, Carlotta fretted.

Regardless, seating arrangements turned out to be irrelevant, as Slughorn decided to put them in pairs for that day's potion. They were to be working on Irregular Poison antidotes, and the brew required more than one set of hands, if the students were to finish before the end of class.

Lily sat in the front of the classroom that morning, with Donna, Marlene, and Mary, and they had just agreed on their usual pairing off, when Slughorn cleared his throat.

"I am afraid," he said, shaking his head sagely, "after yesterday's class with the fourth years, I shall be assigning partners."

Just about everyone groaned, but Lily didn't mind too much, because—as Slughorn's favorite—she usually ended up with one of her friends anyway. And so, while the professor paired off her classmates—Stebbins with Kyle, Mumps with Patil, Atwater with MacDonald (Mary rolled her eyes)—Lily sat back and waited, anxiety free. James was placed with Remus and Sirius with Peter—the usual Marauder set-up for teachers who wanted to be liked but didn't want James and Sirius blowing anything up—while Carlotta went with Reg Cattermole. When Slughorn, with a nostalgic little smile, announced Lily's partnership, she experienced the strange sensation of feeling fourteen-years-old again. For a second, she was pleased.

"Lily and Severus."

And then she wasn't.

By the time the fact that this was, in fact, an unhappy event had fully sunk in, Slughorn had already moved on to Donna (Liam Lyle). Lily found Severus in the back row, and he wasn't looking at her, but concentrating on the preparation of his textbook and cauldron.

"Clueless git," Marlene whispered, referencing Slughorn. Lily sighed and began to gather up her own things.

"He doesn't mean anything by it," she replied quietly, while Clancy Goshawk was paired with Adam McKinnon. "He just thinks we're in some petty quarrel."

"Oh, yes, extremely petty—just whether or not you've got the right to continue your silly habit of being alive..." Marlene continued to grumble, while she shifted some of her things to make room for her own partner. Slughorn finished his assignments, and Lily joined Snape in the back of the classroom.

James glanced at her as she went—more than once—but Lily pretended not to notice. He was not the only one, unfortunately: Avery—Snape's friend from Slytherin—glowered at Severus, as if this were entirely of his arrangement. Mulciber, fortunately, seemed to be absent this morning,

"Hello," said Lily, carefully monotone.

"'Morning," said Severus,

The nature of their relationship was torturously ambiguous at the moment, Lily realized when she joined him beside the cauldron. They were not friends, certainly. She wasn't angry with him either, however, and the recollection of amity hadn't exactly deserted her, though it was entirely nostalgia-based and currently unsubstantiated. Whether or not they were adversarial was the real mystery.

"I'm surprised you let him pair us up," said Snape, his stare resting idly on the book before him, not so much out of dedicated effort to avoid eye contact, but more as if he could not be bothered to make it. "You didn't pitch a fit and stubbornly insist on another partner."

Lily rolled her eyes. "What in that sounds like me?"

He met her eye this time. "The pitching a stubborn fit part."

All right: adversarial it was.

Slughorn had correctly calculated the difficulty of the potion, however. Snape and Lily were by far the best potion-makers in the class, and both were almost constantly occupied with their project for the next hour. Rattails were minced and fly wings ground into powder, the heat beneath the cauldron continuously monitored, and the coloration of the liquid checked every minute, so that it was not until the potion was set to simmer that the two had any occasion to converse about anything else. Still, when the opportunity did present itself, both fell silent, at least at first. Their classmates still labored over their own potions, which suited Lily fine, because that afforded neither of their respective friends the chance to send them curious stares. Lily sat back and watched all of them instead. Snape read, keeping one eye on the antidote.

James stood with Remus, so the former worked with the diligence the latter inadvertently inspired: the white smoke drifting up from their cauldron was a shade or two paler than altogether necessary, but potions were neither Remus nor James's forte, and their result still appeared better than most of the rest of the class. Marlene and her Hufflepuff partner achieved slightly more success, and Mary and her Ravenclaw slightly less. Peter did his best, but he bore an unfair burden, for Sirius did not seem to care much for his own work. Across the room, meanwhile, Carlotta seemed to be attempting to chat up Reg Cattermole. The book-dropping, over-smiling routine that proved so profitable with Dom Callahan and Liam Lyle (and James, for that matter) fell flat when it faced Reginald, however, and the more he concentrated on their potion, the more obvious her tactics became. She was laughing loudly at God knew what when Snape spoke.

"Voted for Carlotta, did you?" he mocked, following her stare, and Lily started—not simply for the sound of his voice, but because it was exceptionally odd (almost disconcerting) to hear that question from him. She so completely disassociated Severus from the goings-on of Meloni v. Mumps. It was strange just knowing they existed in the same school (originated in the same house, even), much less that Snape was aware of the other.

"Of course not," Lily replied.

"Prefer blondes, do you?"

"I'm avoiding the whole thing, actually," said Lily. "I'm surprised you've even heard of it. You're scarcely around these days."

"I'm around. You are simply otherwise occupied." Lily crossed her arms and decided not to respond, but Severus carried on. "Of course, I can't blame you," he said scathingly; "There's so much terribly important Head Girl business..."

"Speaking of which," Lily interrupted. "You've skived off the last two prefect meetings, and I've heard Colista Black is patrolling with her boyfriend." She turned to him. "Why's that?"

"Colista's not my type."

"Severus."

"I've been busy," he told her coolly.

"Well sort your priorities," snapped Lily.

Snape kind of smirked at that, while he leaned over the cauldron and gave it a counter-clockwise stir. "A bit rich, that, considering how your precious Gryffindors choose to spend their time and excessive wealth."

"Mundungus Fletcher started it," Lily pointed out.

"True... I suppose it's fair to say they're all idiots."

"And you're above everyone, as usual," she replied acerbically.

"You mean am I above that sort of idiotic rubbish?" he asked. "Yes. And you used to be, too." With ever-mounting bitterness: "I suppose Potter loves the attention."

Lily rolled her eyes again. "And I thought you were the one who had him all figured out."

"You think he doesn't love it?" asked Snape, surprised. "And here I thought you weren't delusional." More seriously, he went on, "He's a git, Lily. You haven't forgotten that, have you?"

"Believe me," said Lily; "I'm ridiculously capable of identifying a git. I think that's ready to bottle." She grabbed the glass vial fro the desk and crossed to the cauldron, careful not to spill as she collected a sample. The rest of the class had moved forward, and their potions simmered, filling the room with an extensive variety of burning smells.

"You used to be sensible," Severus muttered, while Lily scooped the potion into the glass. "You didn't use to want to be that type of girl..." His black eyes flickered to Carlotta Meloni.

Lily corked the bottle. She could have fought him on any number of his points, but instead, speaking in a forced, even tone, simply said: "I'm still the same where it counts, though, Sev. Still a mudblood." She did not take the time to see whether her words stung him or (more likely, she thought) not, but promplty carried their potion up to Slughorn's desk.

"Finished already? Lovely—and of course, the two of you have brewed a brilliant..." Lily didn't hear the rest. She nodded and smiled to whatever he said, and when he'd finished talking, she returned to her space with Snape only long enough to collect her things.

"If you're not at the next prefect meeting, I'm reporting you to Professor McGonagall." She dismissed herself.

---

To hear Dung talk about the thing, Sam, you'd imagine the entire school was voting—professors included. The reality was rather more limited than that, but I'll get to that later.

The announcement of the victor, Meloni or Mumps, was to be made Sunday night (that's tonight—several hours ago, actually, for me, and probably two days ago for you, by the time you read this, but never mind). By Friday, most of us had had our absolute fill of the both of them, and yet, there was a certain amount of anticipation about the whole thing... if for no other reason than the betting. Some idiot was rumored to have ten galleons on Carlotta, although, in retrospect, that was probably a lie Mundungus told to generate interest.

He started telling a lot of those. Fletcher will do just about anything for a galleon, and at one point, he actually let on that James had agreed to abide by the vote—that is, whoever the Hogwarts population picked, Mundungus claimed that James would date. Most people saw through this immediately, but I think it gained him a handful more votes and a bet or two.

Friday rolled in, bringing with it two events I dread absolutely: Counseling with Madam Keepdown, and the decoration of the Great Hall, which I was meant to do with James, under the supervision of the groundskeeper, Hagrid.

First: Counseling.

Well, that could've gone a lot better.

Perhaps in light of the fact that a student was currently taking bets over which girl our Head Boy should shag, Madam Keepdown decided that there was far too much negativity permeating the student body, and said that instead of spreading bad things about one another, we should encourage positive energy.

Nothing inherently wrong in that, I suppose.

We were told to write down something nice about each one of our classmates, and when we'd finished, seek them out and report it to them. Naturally, we all did this without making fun at all.

---

(Friday)

"Shacklebolt has a lovely chest," Donovan Atwater told Donna, reading from the scroll of parchment on which he had written his "positive" statements.

"Funny," Donna replied. "Because I wrote, Atwater has a lovely purple eye."

The Ravenclaw frowned. "No, I don't."

"Yes, well, give me a minute."

Donovan looked down at the parchment again, pretending to read: "Too bad she is also an intolerable bitch."

"Move along, Atwater."

He did so, stepping aside and stopping in front of the next closest person. Unlike Donna, Atwater had actually written something on his scroll of parchment—whether he had fulfilled the assignment's terms and written one for everyone in the classroom, she did not know, but she could see the scribbling on his page, whereas her own sheet of parchment was decidedly bare. So far, she'd satisfactorily avoided anyone whose name she didn't know, and she hoped to wait out the clock before running out of people whose names she did know.

Dodging a Hufflepuff girl called either Dora or Nancy, Donna nudged her way through the crowd until she found Lily, who had just finished telling Kevin Scherbatsky that he had very nice eyes.

"Me next," said Donna mockingly. She imitated reading from her parchment: "Lily Evans makes a very neat plait."

"Donna Shacklebolt is tidy, due to her low tolerance for things that are not her existing in her vicinity," Lily replied. Donna nodded in agreement. "You didn't write anything, did you?" said Lily.

"No."

"I drew a picture of a cat."

Lily showed her the picture.

"Not bad."

"It was supposed to be Ira, but it ended up too skinny."

"Yeah, I see that."

They looked at the cat for a moment.

"We ought to go tell other people what beautiful human beings they are," Lily supposed after a while.

"The shock of hearing those words from my mouth might kill them," Donna reasoned. "My goal is not insulting them."

"So decent."

"I try."

They went their separate ways, and Donna very shortly bumped into Carlotta.

"Carlotta Meloni has admirable health habits."

Carlotta raised her eyebrows. "What a coincidence," she said, holding out her own paper and pointing to the sentence labeled with Donna's name. Donna squinted to interpret it:

"She is physically strong and eats well."

"Mhm."

"I wonder if that's the nicest thing anyone has to say about me."

"I wouldn't complain," Carlotta told her. "The word 'whore' has been in at least three of the descriptions I've been given."

"Does that surprise you?"

"Not really," said Carlotta neutrally. "I was hoping to get a little more positive energy, though."

Donna snorted. "You mean you were hoping to get more people to vote for you."

"Positive energy."

"Call it what you like." Donna folded her arms and shook her head. "It's beyond me why you even care about the stupid thing. The only good thing about you all these years is that you couldn't possibly care less if people liked you or not."

"And my dietary habits," Carlotta reminded her. "Anyway, I have my reasons, that's all. You wouldn't understand."

"Probably not," Donna agreed. "Potter's not my type."

Carlotta laughed. "You have a type?"

"Yes, I have a type," she replied, scowling. "My type just happens to be older... and engaged, apparently."

"Ah." Carlotta nodded understandingly. "I had that phase, as well."

"Still, I'd never stoop to this level for a bloke. No matter how old and how engaged."

"Well, it's not really for a bloke, is it?" said Carlotta, glancing across the room to where her boyfriend stood—avoiding the assignment and chatting with Reg Cattermole. "Although... what a bloke..."

"So this is about annoying Shelley, then?" asked Donna. "In that case, I could potentially stoop to this level... if it were to annoy someone I really despised."

"I don't despise Shelley..." said Carlotta passionately. "I just—you know... want to..."

"Destroy her."

"Figuratively."

"If you say so."

A few minutes later, Madam Keepdown requested that everyone finish their compliment exchange as soon as possible, which, of course, the class understood to mean they could quit pretending and sit down already. As they moved back to the desks along the perimeter of the chamber, however, Keepdown took them all by surprise, asking that they pass their lists in to her.

Roughly half of the seventh years appeared extremely uneasy at this, but there was nothing to be done. Neither Donna nor Lily objected to handing in their own adaptations of the assignment, but many of the others who had similarly failed to actually generate written lists, didn't bother. Furious, the pitiable Madam Keepdown dismissed them all early.

When they walked out into the corridor with the other seventh years, Lily complained quietly—a sure sign that she felt guilty for clearly having upset Madam Keepdown. "She doesn't need to have a fit over it... we did the stupid assignment, we just didn't write it down."

Nearby, James seemed to plead a similar case.

"Then why didn't you just write the damn things down?" Carlotta demanded. "It couldn't have hurt you, for Merlin's sake..."

"I don't know why you're angry with me. I'm not the only one who didn't write anything..."

"Maybe not, but you're the only one I expected better of."

James rolled his eyes, and he might have responded, but just then Sabrina Barbery slipped past Carlotta in the crowded corridor, muttering as she went: "Trouble in paradise, Meloni?"

"Sod off," snapped Carlotta. Sabrina smiled and shrugged as she hurried along down the hallway. Carlotta looked back to her boyfriend, but now he, too, was distracted—in a very specific and infuriating way, too.

"Ah, Evans, I'm so sorry I didn't get to send any positive energy in your direction," he said to the Head Girl, as she and her friends walked just ahead of him. "I was going to say how gracious you are about accepting apologies."

"I'd have mentioned how perceptive you are of other people's feelings," Lily rejoined coolly, and she quickened her pace to escape him.

James could not have watched her departure for more than a few seconds, but the moment stretched out for Carlotta. She took James's hand in hers, and he acknowledged the fact with a curious glance at her.

"I'm sorry," he admitted—she didn't immediately recall that they'd been arguing only seconds before.

"It's nothing," she said softly.

It wasn't really for a bloke, was it?

---

Lily arrived in the Great Hall for decorating purposes precisely at eight; James followed precisely two minutes later. Hagrid met them both there precisely two minutes after that, and he carried a large wooden crate of carved pumpkins.

Lily kept her eyes keenly focused on the demonstration that the groundskeeper provided for the proper method of candle-ing each of the jack-o-lanterns, but it didn't prevent her from noticing the occasional—or not so occasional—glances that the Head Boy sent in her direction. He wanted to talk.

She didn't.

"Thanks, Hagrid," said James, when he'd finished the demonstration. "You know, you don't have to stick around if you don't want to. I'm sure you've got better things to do."

"Well tha's very nice of yeh..."

"But he has to stay!" Lily exclaimed. "I mean—you can't... leave children alone with... fire."

James grinned. "But, Evans, weren't you listening? We're not lighting the jack-o-lanterns tonight. Dumbledore or McGonagall will see to that tomorrow. We're just putting them around now. I'm surprised you didn't hear that—you were listening so intently."

"Right."

"Well, if yeh didn' mind," said Hagrid, "I was hopin' to tend to the weeds in the gurdyroot patch..."

"At eight p.m.?" Lily inquired desperately, but Hagrid only sent her a curious look, as though he could not fathom what she found incongruous in that proposition.

"Have fun with the gurdy patch," said James cheerfully.

"Gurdyroot," Lily and Hagrid corrected.

When the chaperone had departed, Lily glowered at James, and, grabbing as many pumpkins and candles as she could carry at one time, sat down at Hufflepuff table and began to work.

"You're really not going to talk to me?" said James.

"No, I'll speak to you," she replied. "If either of us have anything worth saying."

James looked skeptical. Still, he managed to frustrate her all the more by joining her at Hufflepuff table. They worked in silence for several minutes, before he spoke up again. "Brings back memories, yeah?"

"Jack-o-lantern stuffing?"

"No. Y'know..." He waved indicatively at the hall around them. "Halloween. The Great Hall." Smirking: "All that's missing is a cigarette and a bad attitude." Lily made no response, and James sighed: "Or maybe just the cigarette."

An unreasonably uncomfortable silence settled between the two as they worked. When all the jack-o-lanterns (about two dozen) had been candle'd, they self segregated to opposite ends of the Great Hall to fix them mid-air over the tables. This functioned well as an avoidance mechanism for a time, until, inevitably, they found that a lack of levitating pumpkins persisted above the center aisle. Lily moved between the two central tables first, but James remained one aisle over, resigned to transporting the pumpkins a greater distance by magic.

It was then that Lily realized they were both being a bit ridiculous.

"I'll apologize if you do," she said.

James stopped abruptly, and one of the pumpkins he had been fixing into place came crashing down. It smashed across the stone floor, sending slimy orange debris in all directions, but James didn't pay it much attention.

"What?"

Lily repeated herself resignedly.

"Really?"

The Head Girl rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you're always surprised by my apologies."

"Mostly because you're always apologizing for stupid things," James replied. He climbed over Ravenclaw table to join her in the center aisle, while she sat down on the bench of Gryffindor table.

"Well I'm sorry for being nice," she said curtly.

"You're only proving my point, Snaps." He sat down on the bench of Ravenclaw table, and the aisle, along with the remains of the pumpkin, lay between them.

"I shouldn't have made fun of Carlotta," said Lily.

"And that's all?"

"Yes."

"Not the rejecting my apology?"

With dignity: "Nope."

James made a face, as if he were weighing his options quite carefully. "Fine. I'm sorry for being a git."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Is that all?"

"Yours wasn't exactly poetry."

"Your offense was worse."

"Yeah, but you swore at me. Swear words are… at least ten points on the Necessity-of-an-Apology chart."

"There's a chart?"

"Oh, yes. This apology just struck just below the 'This Is a Hard Sell, You're Going to Have to Buy Flowers' mark, so… dodged a hex with that one, didn't I?"

"Flowers?" asked Lily. "What's a girl got to go through to get a bar of Honeydukes' Finest?"

"Well let's see... I think I'd have had to call your mother a whore or steal a personal, but not necessarily prized possession." There, Lily almost smiled, and though she did her very best to conceal it, James noticed. "So I won't jump to 'all is forgiven,' but is it a safe bet that at least some is forgiven?"

Lily gave a noncommittal shrug. "I suppose."

James frowned, and tried again: "You see, the thing is, sometimes I say things without thinking..."

"Quite a bit, it would appear."

"Yes, but usually they're clever and charming things... not—you know, completely awful."

She lost the battle and cracked a smile.

"So—truce?" asked James.

"Well," Lily said with a little sigh, "I suppose you can't have all the women in your life furious with you at the same time."

"You know, even my mother was a little curt with me in her last letter? It's ridiculous!"

"Well, I'm sure you deserved it."

"I'll have you know I'm a model son," said James, faux indignant.

"So sneaking out to a protest and getting kind-of arrested isn't the norm?"

"It's my mates: you're a bad influence on me."

Lily actually laughed at that. "Oh, I'm a bad influence, am I?"

"Rubbish," said James solemnly. "Most of the trouble I got into when I was younger was on your behalf."

"Loads of good it did you."

"There was method to my madness... it just wasn't the greatest method."

"You might have tried just being nice," said Lily, blushing a little—she hoped James didn't notice. If he did, he didn't comment.

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?"

The fun, indeed. Somewhat melodramatically, perhaps, Lily reflected that without the fun of it, there was an excellent chance that James would not have chased her at all. And, certainly, when the fun was sufficiently depleted, he'd found the girl who more or less held the patent on fun. She'd been quiet for several seconds, and it was uncomfortable again. She panicked slightly at this realization (was she being horribly obvious?), which only kept her quiet longer, until she could think of nothing else to say except: "You dropped a pumpkin."

James caught the unsubtle change of subject. "Yeah, I reckon I should clean that up." He rose to do so, and Lily took the little reprieve of attention to collect herself.

Flirting.

She'd been flirting with him.

Bloody Shelley Boat.

"So now that we're speaking again..." said James, idly vanishing the pumpkin debris with his wand.

Lily focused on affixing another jack-o-lantern in the air. "Go on..."

James paused to ask it: "Did you vote?"

The question took her by surprise. "Of course not."

"Oh. Good. Thank-you."

"Why do you ask?"

James shrugged. "It just seems as though everyone is."

"It's ridiculous," said Lily. "I don't see why you and Carlotta haven't put a stop to it."

"I want to," said James. "But Carlotta won't let me. She's got something to prove to Shelley. I don't really understand it..."

Lily nodded slowly, and now that the last of the pumpkin innards had been removed from the floor, James resumed the decorating process. "If it's any comfort," said the Head Girl, "I think Carlotta's going to win."

"Of course Carlotta's going to win," said James, without a hint of pride. "It doesn't matter. Even if she lost, it wouldn't matter."

"Of course not," said Lily again, and she turned to face James again. "If you're happy, you and Carlotta should be together. You're—cute."

James smirked. "Cute: what every bloke aspires to be."

Lily was prevented a reply by another loud SPLAT. A second pumpkin—one of James's again—fell to the ground, this time slapping the Head Boy's back with a bit of candle.

"Perhaps we should reinforce these," said Lily. "We don't want them falling on people during the feast."

"Good idea. Actually..." James reflected, "I'm a bit surprised they let me do this at all, considering I once was responsible for setting the Halloween decorations to blow up..." Lily's eyes grew wide, and he smiled innocently.

"James."

"Yes?"

"You didn't..."

"Didn't what?"

---

He didn't.

---

Though through perhaps the entire duration of the Halloween feast, Lily nervously expected the overhead decorations to burst, they remained decidedly intact.

"If I had my way," Mary remarked over the main course, when Lily shared her concern with her friends, "they'd be filled with sweets, and then explode on everyone. It'd be much more festive."

"I'll pass that along to Professor McGonagall," said Lily. She poked at her potatoes with her fork, but did not eat them, a fact which stood in stark contrast with everyone else at Gryffindor table, who excitedly and with relish consumed the delicious food before them.

"You're not really that anxious about the jack-o-lanterns exploding, are you, Lily?" asked Marlene curiously. "I'm sure Potter didn't..."

"No," said Lily, shaking her head. "I just have a bit of a stomach ache."

---

Far more threatening than the possibility of being struck on the head with a pumpkin shard was, for whatever reason, the imminent Meloni v. Mumps announcement. Unlike many of my classmates, I did not have any money hanging in the balance, or even the prideful hope that my "candidate" would win, and yet they all seemed to enjoy their meals a great deal.

I'm not half bad at divination, Sam. There's a definite possibility that I had a premonition about the impending doom. Okay, perhaps that's overstating it a little.

No one dies in this story. I want to make that clear

---

Following an enthusiastically performed skit, courtesy of Hogwarts' ghosts, the Halloween feast at last drew to a close, and slowly at first, but then rather quickly, the students began to migrate out of the Great Hall, into the Entrance Hall. Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Donna were among the largest crowd of students, most of whom proceeded to their common rooms. However, a large minority, including Lily Marlene, and Mary, lingered; Donna did not seem to be in the mood for gossip, and she went up to Gryffindor tower.

As the Entrance Hall emptied a little, the details of the execution of Mundungus's scheme became more apparent. The little wooden box he'd carted about for the last few days, labeled Meloni v. Mumps sat on the third step of the marble staircase, immediately beside its creator. Mundungus looked quite pleased with himself, and perhaps he had cause (if not good cause) to be so, considering the reasonably sized crowd gathering around him and the box. All told, about seventy students convened there in preparation of the announcement, and Lily was less than pleased to admit that she was of that number. James, Carlotta, Shelley, and the Marauders were there too—James and Carlotta hung back to one side, near the corridor leading to the Kitchens. James appeared completely indifferent to the proceedings, and Carlotta completely confident: not happy, precisely, but not nervous either.

Shelley, on the other hand, looked positively gleeful and had perched right near the front, closest to Mundungus. The other Marauders joined Lily in the very back, just steps from the Great Hall. Remus and Sirius were nonchalant, chatting idly about the ghosts' skit, even after the uncaring, non-betters had filtered through or stopped to watch, and Mundungus had called for quiet. Peter, however, was anxious.

At last, Mundungus's insistence that everyone kindly shut it was heeded, and the crowd grew quiet. Still, Lily leaned over to whisper to Remus: "This is it? The way Fletcher talked about it, I expected at least half the school."

"Maybe all the betters didn't show up," Remus suggested.

"Maybe the students aren't as hopeless as I'd feared," muttered Lily, folding her arms. Remus smiled, but they left it at that, as Dung was about to announce the victor.

"Now," said Mundungus, "First I'd like to thank ya all..."

"Get on with it, Fletcher!" Donavan Atwater interjected loudly. "I've got nine galleons on this nonsense."

"Might want to watch that habit, Don," said Valerie Turpin cheekily.

"Sod off..."

"Oh get on with it," cried another watchful better, and Dung cleared his throat and continued. He decided to get to the point, though, and with a proud smirk, lifted the lid of the wooden box. It fell open on a hinge, so that all could see, but instead of the many slips of white parchment that had been dropped in throughout the last week, there was only one scrap.

Those closest to the front perceived this first and began to complain, so that those further back learned of it fairly quickly. "I thought you were going to count the votes here," said Valerie Turpin, annoyed, and Shelley now looked a little flustered too.

"Too risky," said Dung solemnly. "I'm a nervous counter. But have no fear, mates..." He flashed them all a grin, "for this parchment holds our winner, and I counted the votes me-self—" No one's fears were relieved by that little detail; "—with witnesses."

"I'm a witness," announced Hufflepuff Liam Lyle dispassionately. "I didn't bet or vote—I've got no bias. Fletch counted them just before supper, and I recounted them."

"Really, Lyle?" remarked one of the Ravenclaw girls disapprovingly.

"What? He paid me two galleons..."

"Get on with it," groaned Shelley. "All this chatter is driving me mad. Who won?"

(Continued non-reactions from James and Carlotta)

"As ya wish." Mundungus withdrew the parchment from the box. It was folded over, and, fully aware of the suspense caused by it, the Slytherin took a long time to unfold it. He read the name, which he already knew, silently to himself and grinned—probably for effect. "The winner—accordin' to your own votin' process..." (Lily could not help but glance at Carlotta and James again; only the latter came across as even a little tense).

"...is Shelley Mumps."

There was a universal exhale and then a lot of dissatisfied noise. Of course, someone must have voted for Shelley, and yet the majority of those who were heard seemed to be complaining. There was some celebration, of course—no one louder than Shelley—but Lily's eyes remained fixed on James.

No one had heard him, but he had actually exclaimed, "What?" when Mundungus read the name. However, considering that this whole ordeal supposedly concerned him as much as anyone, James went surprisingly ignored. Those who had voted for Carlotta were arguing with Mundungus and Liam, and those who had voted for Shelley were all demanding their money, but no one, except Carlotta, who was speaking rapidly to her boyfriend, seemed to be heeding the Head Boy at all.

Until, that is, James silenced them all again with another, much louder: "What?"

"Now, Potter," Mundungus said, "the votin' is simply a..."

James ignored him, speaking quietly—and rather angrily—with Carlotta, who couldn't meet his eye. Lily had no idea what was going on, but Shelley did. She pushed through the crowd of those who had been trying to get their winnings to James and Carlotta, who both ignored her, until she was right up next to them. Sirius, Remus, and Peter—also quite bewildered—made their way over as well.

"There has been an awful lot of betting going on, hasn't there?" the blonde cooed. "Funny how things work out..."

Carlotta actually looked as if she might cry, and it would be the first time almost everyone in the hall would witness that, so people craned closer. Mary and Marlene joined Lily, but they seemed worried.

"What's going...?" Mary began to ask, but Lily hushed her.

James continued to speak to Carlotta, quietly enough that even those making a dedicated effort caught very little of what he said. Carlotta, on the other hand, didn't seem to be able to keep her voice down.

"I'm sorry, James, I didn't think..."

"No, well that's very obvious, isn't..."

"Now, Potter," said Mundungus, thrilled to have started such an exciting uproar; "...share your news with the rest..."

"Shut up, Mundungus," James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter chorused furiously. "I don't care what you told her," James pressed on to Carlotta. "I have a say in this, don't I?"

"A deal is a deal," Shelley said happily, hands on her hips. "And Carlotta said..."

"No offense, Shelley," said James, "but SHUT. UP."

And Shelley shut up. So did everyone else. A deep blush colored her cheeks, and it was a definite possibility that six long years of illusions and fantasies surrounding this boy were swiftly decomposing in Shelley Mumps' mind.

James—with occasional help from Sirius—was saying something to Carlotta, but she only kept apologizing and stammering and not meeting his eye.

"Why in Merlin's name would you do that?" James eventually demanded, loud enough for everyone to hear. The pieces had already begun to fall into place for those who were privy even to only the noisiest part of the exchange...

"Because that's what she does!" said Shelley, regaining her courage. "She doesn't care about anyone else's feelings! She doesn't care about anyone but herself and her own stupid ego, and it doesn't even—it doesn't even phase her... it doesn't bother her at all when other people get hurt!" The crack in her voice betrayed the most genuine emotion Shelley Mumps had shown in weeks. She was right, too, at least in one way: James looked hurt. Both he and Shelley were watching Carlotta, who was watching her feet.

"I'm sorry," Carlotta said again.

James had apparently taken Shelley's words to heart. "Well that's just lovely," he snapped. "Because it's so bloody encouraging to know that while every one of these prats..." He waved around at everyone in the Hall, "...wastes their sodding time and money on a stupid popularity contest—acting like what I think and choose doesn't matter at all, treating you like bloody props, no less... it's so goddamn encouraging when you do the exact same thing!"

Carlotta looked up at last, surprised. "You..."

"Never mind it," James interjected angrily. His hand flew through his hair. "Never mind it. I can't make a liar out of you, can I? I'm done with both of you."

He might have stormed off, except that it was at this moment that Professor McGonagall entered from the Great Hall.

"What are you all doing in here?"

James slipped away in the confused attempts to either return to the dormitories or else explain things to Professor McGonagall. Shelley and Carlotta remained side by side, however. Carlotta's expression was unreadable; Shelley's glowed with satisfaction. The remaining three Marauders did not pursue James, but rather returned to Lily.

"What happened?" asked Lily, though she was a bit afraid that she might already have an idea.

The three of them were pale and unhappy, which was surprising, considering they had never been Carlotta's biggest fans.

"Apparently," said Remus regretfully, "Shelley and Carlotta made a bet too. If Carlotta lost, she was supposed to break it off with Prongs."

---

The details of this arrangement were related to me later. The deal was made on Monday, and it went something like this.

---

(Five Days Earlier)

Assuming, of course, that Carlotta's eyes were not playing tricks on her—and they weren't—it would appear that over the course of the last few days, Shelley had been wearing her skirts longer. The jumper was as tight as ever, but she'd been keeping her buttons done up, all the way to the collar. Her tie wasn't loose at all.

Carlotta had a pretty clear idea of what was going on.

"The innocent sweetheart routine might be more convincing if you weren't skiving off your classes." This replaced a standard greeting for Carlotta, when she encountered Shelley in the corridor outside the Charms department on Monday afternoon. Shelley rolled her eyes, vividly blue and all the more so for the chalky outline around them.

She was pretty—she really was, but not like she used to be. At least, not for Carlotta. She didn't—she didn't smile like she used to; she didn't use that voice, that was frank and understanding at the same time. She wasn't warm, like she used to be (at least, not for Carlotta). She was cool and neatly arranged; her hair was fashionably feathered and her lips coated in pale pink; she was thinner around the middle and you couldn't see any of her freckles; Shelley was pretty, but not like she used to be, that's all.

"It was one class for Merlin's sake," snapped Shelley in reply. "I don't see why everyone's making such a fuss."

"Who's 'everyone?'"

"None of your business." Shelley started to walk past Carlotta, but then hesitated, changing her mind. "You know that you're going to lose, don't you? Mundungus's vote."

Carlotta laughed. "That's cute."

"No one likes you anymore."

"It doesn't matter if they like me or not," said Carlotta; "They know who I am—I'm someone. You're just the bint who shagged Clancy Goshawk's boyfriend."

To Carlotta's surprise, Shelley did not appear offended at all. She only smiled. "Confident, are you?"

"You know that you don't have anything to gain by doing this, don't you?" said Carlotta, ignoring her question. "It's not as if James is going to break up with me on account of your winning some stupid popularity contest. And the fact that you're trying so desperately to win is... is... undignified."

"Undignified," Shelley repeated. "I see. So, you suppose that you've really already won... because you don't care. Is that it?"

"Mhm."

"Not that it matters, because you also suppose that you'll win the vote as well."

"Too bad, isn't it? You always wanted to be popular."

Shelley would not be affronted, though. She continued to smile. "I bet you don't win," she said. Carlotta raised her eyebrows, not quite catching Shelley's point. "I bet that you lose the vote."

"Okay..."

"I mean, I'll make a bet with you. And just to keep things interesting—how about some terms?"

"What kind of terms?"

"If you lose, you break up with James."

At first, Carlotta just sort of stared at Shelley; then she laughed again. "You're mental, Shelley."

"You're afraid?"

"No, I'm not afraid," said Carlotta. "I just don't happen to be an idiot. Why on earth would I make that bet? Of course I don't actually think I'll lose, but I'm not going to play into your little game just because I'm confident." She chuckled scornfully. "Did you really think that would work?"

Shelley's smile remained intact. "If you win, I'll leave you alone," she said calmly.

"What?"

"I'll leave you alone," Shelley repeated. "I'll stop telling everyone all the rubbish you've done in the past. I'll stop talking about you all together, and I won't try to break you and Potter up."

Carlotta's confident mask slipped, ever so slightly, but she maintained her composure when she answered: "I'm not worried about anything you might try, Shelley."

"Really?" Shelley took a step closer, arms folded across her chest and enigmatic grin in place. "So you don't ever think that eventually, your boyfriend is going to realize that you're not worth the extensive trouble? Especially considering all of his other options."

"I hope you don't mean yourself."

"I don't."

Carlotta sighed. "You'll leave me alone?" she asked. "You'll truly stop speaking to or about me completely? And James as well?"

Shelley nodded. Carlotta did as well.

"Fine," she said. "Deal."

---

Carlotta and Shelley did not move, even while the others scattered (no one sooner than Mundungus). Shelley was proud; her smile didn't gloat, as before, but it showed how really proud she was of the end of the affair. And one thing was clearer than ever: it had never been about a bloke.

---

I was beginning to think that Snape was right. It's best to just huddle up and ignore all of this, because all of this silly teenager stuff isn't actually any fun at all.

It's rubbish. It's pointless. It's a waste of time and energy, and people's feelings get hurt.

Anyway, sometimes it seems that way.

So, it would appear that we're approaching the end of Meloni v. Mumps. It would appear that you're almost free. But we're not, and you're not. If this were the end, I would hardly need to write this letter—it's not exactly something I'm dying to get off my chest, everything up to this point. Nope, we've just reached the end of the second act, and everything gets all mixed up in the third.

Of course, to everyone else, this rubbish, pointless waste of time and creativity was Meloni v. Mumps—two girls fighting over one boy, and the pathetic popularity contest that ensued.

But there's more to it than that. Loads more—you see, you should never underestimate Carlotta Meloni.

---

After the scene in the Great Hall, the crowd dispersed rather slowly, and Lily and Professor McGonagall were largely responsible for herding everyone back to their respective Common Rooms. Carlotta disappeared, to where Lily knew not. There was a great deal of chatter about what had just transpired, but there were also those who had the decency to look somewhat ashamed of themselves as they shuffled away.

Lily herself felt rather queasy.

The noise of the Common Room certainly did not help anything, but she couldn't deny that a certain amount of her general ill feeling was related to the deluge of mixed emotions raging inside of her. She found a seat next to the fire with Mary and Marlene, who were mercifully among those not discussing the recently finished fight. Though they were quiet—with a touch of guilt—the same could not be said of the rest of the Common Room, and with the heat from the fire and the feeling in her stomach as if she'd eaten spoiled food, Lily realized she couldn't hang around there at that moment.

"Where did Carlotta go?" she asked, almost lazily, and Mary said she thought she'd gone up to bed.

Lily nodded and got to her feet, starting for the Portrait Hole.

"You're not going upstairs?" asked Marlene, surprised.

Lily shook her head. "I'm going for a walk." The second-to-last person in the world she wanted to see right now was Carlotta.

The last person she wanted to see right now she encountered before she'd even left the seventh floor. She almost ran into him as she rounded the corner into the east wing.

"James!"

James didn't startle easily, though. "Evans."

"I thought you were upstairs," Lily said, not making eye contact. Nonetheless, she did her best to observe how he looked—which was mostly some mixture of confused and annoyed.

"On my way now." He frowned. "Is it unusual that my first instinct after storming off was to head for the Kitchens?"

"Depends on what you ate..."

"Buttered broccoli."

"Oh, perfectly normal in that case."

James was appreciative of that. "It was left over from supper."

"Left over? What a shock."

He actually grinned at that. "Responsible Lily Evans doesn't eat her vegetables?"

"I live dangerously."

"Ah." Of course, his humor was half-hearted just then. "So where did you say you were going?"

"I didn't, but... for a walk," said Lily. "It was just a bit noisy in the Common Room... because of Halloween..."

James laughed. "Because of Halloween?"

"Yeah, that was a stupid lie."

"It was."

Lily took a long time to ask the question that was both the most courteous thing to ask and something for which she genuinely wished an answer. "How are you?"

He considered it for a moment. "Not really in the mood to talk about it," he said grumpily. He didn't appear distraught, though.

"Yeah, I know," said Lily, relieved. She wasn't in the mood to hear about it, to be honest. "I let you alone, then." She attempted to make her escape with a quick step around him, but she hadn't even passed his shoulder before he pressed on, loudly and quickly: "You want to know the really, really infuriating part of it?"

Lily sighed. Without exactly responding, she sat down on the floor, back against the wall, and waved for James to join her. As he did, she replied to his question: "If I had to guess, I would say that it's the part where Carlotta gambled your relationship on a popularity contest... which she then proceeded to lose."

"Well then you'd be wrong," muttered James through clenched teeth. "That's just the really infuriating part. The really, really infuriating part is that I rigged the goddamn thing."

---

I won't lie: I hadn't seen it coming.

---

"You rigged... the vote?"

James nodded.

"I don't understand... you rigged it for Shelley? Why would you rig it for Shelley?"

"I didn't," said the Head Boy, a bite of impatience in his voice. "I rigged it for Carlotta. After we did the Hall last night, I snuck into Slytherin Common Room and added a bunch of votes for her. I didn't tell Carlotta or anything, and I don't know how Shelley won... she must have—completely knocked Carlotta off her broom in the voting, or maybe Dung rigged it... but that's..."

"Not the point," Lily finished, when James trailed off.

"Right."

"The point," she went on, "is that you tried to help her win... for her sake, so that everyone would leave her—and you—alone, and not only did it fail, but she somewhat casually threw away your whole relationship to settle a point of pride with her ex-best friend."

"Right."

"I'm really sorry."

---

For the record, I meant it.

Not as much as I wanted to, but I still meant it.

Shut up, Sam.

---

"Thanks," James replied absently.

"Yeah. But... I—I should probably go..."

"Why?" asked James, confused, as Lily got to her feet.

"Because... because this is a really uncomfortable conversation."

James burst out laughing.

"Thank Merlin you found that funny," said Lily quickly; "That was a rude thing to say."

"No, you're right—you should go." He was almost still laughing, but he appeared as if he had a bit of a headache coming on, as he massaged his forehead.

"Thank-you," said Lily. "And—really. I'm sorry."

"Thank-you."

Lily took all of two steps, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she just left things like that. "Potter... I don't know what's worth, but—what Shelley said about Carlotta not caring... I mean, I don't think that she..." Lily frowned, and started over: "When she left the Great Hall, Carlotta didn't look like she'd casually thrown away anything. She looked... I mean, she... seemed... pretty heartbroken."

---

He didn't say anything to that.

Of course, I didn't really give him time to. I was out of there within ten seconds. But I could tell that he was thinking about what I said.

---

Since James was in the seventh floor corridor and headed to the Common Room, Lily walked quickly towards the descending staircase, with one objective in mind: a location where she was sure that no one besides herself would have any business. Specifically, the Head Boy and Girl's office. Only James and herself—mostly herself—spent much time there outside of Prefect meetings, and with James thus occupied, she could be fairly certain that no one would bother her.

She was wrong, though.

"James, I... Oh."

On Lily's entrance, Carlotta had jumped to her feet, having been seated on the little sofa along the wall, but she faltered when she realized that it was not the Head Boy who had come to call.

"Carlotta," said Lily, surprised. "Hi. Oh, you thought... no... Er... I'll leave you alone..."

"No!" said Carlotta loudly. "No, you don't have to leave... it is your office, after all, I was just..."

"Thinking James might show up," Lily concluded, and Carlotta nodded.

"But I'll leave you alone," she said, uncharacteristically meek. "I'm probably the last person you want to see..."

Second to last.

"What makes you say that?"

"You mean this isn't as utterly uncomfortable for you as it is for me?"

"Oh, much worse," said Lily. Carlotta smiled, and the Head Girl took the moment to really look over her classmate. It couldn't have been much more than half an hour since the Entrance Hall, and it seemed pretty clear that Carlotta had cried. Oh, she still looked perfect of course—her hair still appropriately loose and free, her olive skin blotch-free, and her nose completely dry. But her eyes were a little red. That was how Carlotta Meloni cried, apparently.

Of course.

"How are you, though?" Lily asked, before she could help herself. Damn her natural instinct to fix things.

Carlotta blinked—she was either smiling or about to cry. "Do you want to hear something awful? I feel—brilliant."

Lily bit her lip. "Yep. That's awful."

"I know it is." Carlotta was apparently staying now, because she sat down again. "It is, and I feel like absolute shit too, if that's any comfort."

A little.

"...It's so terribly mixed up. I feel—I feel exactly as I expected to feel, partially. I feel..." At least she looked guilty when she said it: "free."

Lily's pity for Carlotta—for being part of what could only be a truly humiliating and generally degrading spectacle in front of dozens of classmates—was evaporating quickly.

"Then why did you want to speak with James?" she asked, not bothering to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"Well that's the other part of it," said Carlotta, kneading her hands together anxiously. "I owe him a huge apology, don't I? I need him to..."

"To make you feel better about yourself," said Lily harshly. Carlotta did not deny it.

"Shelley was right about me. Shelley knows me better than anyone. She's a bit like me, too..."

That was obvious. Even if this whole ordeal hadn't played out as it had, there was the matter of Charlie Plex and Clancy Goshawk to be considered. Shelley's idea of popularity and success was measured exactly as Carlotta's had always seemed to be. Of course—and perhaps she'd been wrong—Lily had always wondered if Carlotta's idea of popularity and success (which was based largely on having as many boys like her and as many girls dislike her as possible) hadn't been flavored—just slightly—with regret.

"But I think I did show you one thing," Carlotta said at length.

"Show me?"

"Mhm. About Shelley..."

"I already knew she was determined."

"She doesn't love James, though." It was stated so matter-of-factly—so very casually. "She'd never have done that to James if she loved him."

Which prompted the necessary question: "And you?"

Carlotta shrugged. "Maybe I don't. Maybe I do. It's a bit mixed up in my head. I think I do, sometimes, but then—if I had... I wouldn't feel like this... and I wouldn't have done what I did..."

"Maybe," said Lily. "If you thought you'd win..."

"No," said Carlotta. "I'm not talking about the bet with Shelley. I..." She hesitated ever so slightly. "...I fixed the vote."

Lily decided now was the time to sit down. "You—what?"

"I fixed the vote," Carlotta repeated, just as James had earlier. "For Shelley."

"For...? Why?"

"Because I panicked," said Carlotta, rising from the sofa again and beginning to pace around the small office. "I panicked about this whole thing. I knew it was bothering James, and we were quarreling about his mates, and I thought he was going to break up with me. Ever since we got back to school, I thought he was going to break up with me. Because I lied about Shelley, because of you... because of the bother of it all, with everyone gossiping about us, and me, and... I've never been broken up with before! Except Frank, but that doesn't really count. I thought he was going to call it quits, and then I took Shelley's bet... and at first I really counted on winning, but then... well, then I thought about what if I lost… and I didn't hate the idea. I imagined I'd feel free again, and I wouldn't have to worry about James getting tired of me and snogging you or Shelley or Sheila Vane..."

"Sheila Vane doesn't even go here anymore."

"I know, but it was making me mad," said Carlotta. "I'm not... I just... this isn't me. And it's more than that too... I thought, if James and I broke up—if Shelley won, than maybe I could... I mean, I know we won't ever be proper mates again—certainly not best mates—but I would have liked for her to stop despising me..."

Carlotta dropped off pitifully, leaning against the wall next to the door. Even Lily couldn't feel sorry for her, though.

"Well then you should have broken up with him like a normal human being," she said heatedly. "You should have explained that to him... not... not manipulated him and treated him like—like—like a bloody chocolate frog card you can trade with whomever you like..."

"I know, but..."

"And not only that, but you actually made sure Shelley won! Carlotta, that's awful..."

"I know, I know," she interjected hastily. "But the problem is that I do like him. I do want to be with him, I just happen to know that it's best and easiest for the both of us…and Shelley... if we're not together. But if I went and spoke to him—I'd never be able to go through with it! James can talk his way out of anything, and he'd certainly be able to talk me out of it..."

"Yes, but..."

"I know it was wrong," said Carlotta shamefully. "I know it's the worst way I could have done it, and I'm going to have a very long talk with Madam Keepdown about it..." (Lily rolled her eyes), "But—but, like I said, I panicked. I just..." She explained about Shelley's proposal, and her own dread of being dumped, her fight with the Marauders—specifically Remus—and again and again she attempted to paint an adequate picture of her mindset... either for herself or Lily, until at last, she seemed to have talked herself out. Then, she sighed, and so did Lily.

"Well that explains that," the Head Girl said. "When did you rig the vote?"

"While you two decorated the Hall last night," Carlotta mumbled.

"Mmmm... well, James must not have counted the votes when he went in," reasoned Lily, more to herself than to Carlotta. "And the ones he added weren't enough to put you over."

"Wait what?"

Lily forgot that she hadn't shared that particular piece of information with the now ex-girlfriend of James Potter just yet. "Oh, he fixed the vote for you... or tried to, at any rate. After we finished decorating the Hall, he went and added votes for you."

All the color drained from Carlotta's face. Regardless of what she'd said about being afraid, for the first time this evening, Carlotta seemed genuinely frightenend... she was also stunned. She sat down on the sofa beside Lily again.

"What?"

Lily, confused enough by Carlotta's reaction, explained the whole thing.

"Oh Merlin," whispered the brunette when Lily had finished the story. "He—he wasn't trying to get rid of me, then."

"Of course not!" said Lily. "His solution to getting everyone to leave you two alone was to actually get them to leave you alone—not slink out of the relationship... Why on earth would you think he was trying to get rid of you?"

Carlotta stopped looking surprised just long enough to look offensively knowing. "Because of you, naturally."

It was Lily's turn to go pale. "Because of...?" She shook off the immediate fear of discovery and pressed on: "Because of me? What are you talking about? James doesn't fancy me. It's been ages since..."

"You fancy him, though," said Carlotta calmly.

"No, I..."

"The thing about fancying someone," she interrupted, "is that second you start to notice them, you start to notice how everyone else feels about them, too. Valerie Turpin fancies him as well, you know. And Colista Black. A bit of a shock that one." Dryly: "Sirius Black is in love with him, and also I'm not entirely convinced that Hufflepuff Cattermole doesn't fancy him also. And you, Lily, are on that list."

"Well, you're wrong. Not about Valerie or Colista or Sirius... everyone knows that, but I don't..."

"I was so proud," said Carlotta, not really speaking over her, but not really listening to her either. There was a touch of disgust in the way she said 'proud,' though. "I was so bloody proud of the fact that after all those years of Lily, Lily, Lily... just like that, he wasn't after you anymore. And after what happened with Frank and Alice... well, you're not Alice, but I—well, I couldn't help associating the two of you. And I'd... confided in you..." (The image of Carlotta, glowing and excited, sitting in the dormitory, almost exactly one year before appeared in Lily's brain. You have to tell me who the bloke is... And you won't tell? Of course not...): "But you told after all..." said Carlotta softly. "The laughable part is that I didn't properly realize why I felt like I was—winning something, when I started going out with James. I thought it was some awful feeling because of Shelley, but—well, I'm sure it was. I can't deny it, I really can't, but nobody's feelings are entirely good all the time—sometime's we're petty and horrible. But it had to do with you, too."

Carlotta had an odd way of making terrible things sound less terrible. For a moment, it seemed perfectly normal that she would be saying these things... and then Lily remembered standing on the platform at Kings Cross and the rush she'd felt at seeing James and the crushing feeling of seeing him with Carlotta, and that reminded her how terrible it was. She rather wanted to punch her for making light of that feeling—to say nothing of the fact that Carlotta was now admitting that she'd privately reveled in the feeling… not only of gaining "victory" over Lily, but over her own best friend.

She couldn't punch her, though—not without giving away her lie about fancying James, so her hands shook with ungratified anger.

"Do you want to hear something funny?" asked Carlotta softly.

Lily didn't object.

The brunette smiled. "Shelley thought that if you ever gave the slightest indication of interest in James, he'd off and leave me in about a second." The color rose in Lily's cheeks, but Carlotta, cool as anything, went on: "She was wrong, though."

"Of course she was," said the other, falsifying confidence and nonchalance with everything in her.

"Of course she was," Carlotta agreed. "Because James is nothing if not loyal. And it would take a lot more than a slight indication to undo six straight years of rejection. And he cared about me."

"You've only been broken up for less than an hour, Carlotta," Lily felt compelled to point out. "I feel it might be a bit early for the 'Once upon a time,' past tense..."

"My point is," Carlotta patiently continued: "Of course Shelley was wrong. But one can see her point."

"One can?"

She didn't sound resentful or annoyed or hurt. Carlotta didn't sound any of the things expected of her, and Lily thought that it would have given her great pleasure to know that she was coming across very enigmatic. "There's always the possibility, isn't there? That my boyfriend wasn't very clever at catching slight indications?"

Lily's blush grew darker. "There were no indications to catch," she said quickly.

"None?"

"There was nothing to indicate."

"Certain, are you?"

"Yes."

"You know..." She rested her chin in the palm of her right hand; "You don't have to lie to me. He's not my boyfriend anymore."

---

I lied anyway.

---

Carlotta shrugged; "Well, I suppose you've got no obligation to me." She stood up again. "I'll never understand it, though... if you want something, and it feels right, why wouldn't you pursue it?"

"I don't want anything, and nothing feels right," Lily maintained, annoyed. "And I don't see that it's done you much good. Frank broke your heart, and now Shelley's gone after what she wants, and looks where it's got you."

Sobering a little: "Yes. But the chase, Evans—it's loads of fun, even when it ends in disappointment."

---

I can't be sure if she was trying to be condescending, but that's how it seemed at the time.

---

"And if you lose your best mate in the process?" Lily asked.

Carlotta frowned, but not very deeply. "That's the distinction, isn't it?" she said. "That never felt right." Then, she smiled again—a lovely, full smile. "May I ask you something?"

Again, Lily didn't object, though she didn't know why.

"Who's your best mate?"

"My best mate?" echoed Lily. "I don't know. Donna, Marlene, Mary, I suppose."

"Those are your friends, yes," said Carlotta. "But who's your best friend? Who are you closest to?"

Lily mulled over the question. "I don't know," she said again. "All of them, maybe."

"Don't tell me you're too good to pick favorites..."

"No, I just—I don't know."

"So you've never had a best friend?"

"I didn't say that," replied Lily sharply. "Just that I'm equally close to my mates right now."

"Or equally distant."

"Do you have a point, Carlotta?"

"No, not really." She seemed melancholy again. "I just wanted to know. I'm feeling nostalgic I guess. You see, my best friend hates me now. It used to be that I didn't have boyfriends... real ones, I mean, because I always thought they were a waste of energy. Sex you can get without committing, and companionship you have with your mates. And mates don't let you down."

"It's not a bad philosophy, I suppose," said Lily tiredly. "Not your worst."

"What's my worst?"

"You hate girls."

Carlotta's eyebrows shot up. "I do not. I don't hate anyone: I don't..."

"Believe in it, yes, but all the same. You hate girls."

"No, I... well, not all girls. Just the type who are..."

"Girls."

Carlotta grew a bit resentful, but not entirely: she couldn't really hold frankness against Lily. "I thought you were the nice one."

"No, just subtle."

Carlotta sighed. She sat down at the desk now, and picked up the earlier thread of conversation. "But mates do let you down. If they're me, that is."

Lily bit her lip, mostly to hold back an onslaught of retorts that threatened to pour forth. "Carlotta," she said at length. "Contrary to what I believed when I walked in here, you're not the victim."

"I never said..."

Lily silenced her with the slightest movement of her eyebrows. "The self-deprecation bit won't work, either. You and James really are a pair, you know, because he's as rubbish at it as you are. I mean, really..." Lily got to her feet and began pacing; Carlotta watched her, wide-eyed: "do you expect me to pat you on the back and say everything's going to be okay, because you lost your best mate in all this? Dear, I lost my best mate because he called me a mudblood in front of the entire school, so my sympathy for your situation is extraordinarily limited. And do you want an apology for not keeping my mouth shut about your kiss with Frank? Well, I didn't tell Alice. I told Frank. And even if I had told Alice, do you honestly, honestly believe that you wouldn't have deserved it? And you're the one who's supposed to be all about telling the truth, aren't you? Of course, the absolute most pathetic part of it is that even after all of that, I might still feel sorry for you."

Carlotta's jaw was clenched, as she took a turn biting back her retorts.

"I'd probably still feel sorry for you," Lily pressed on, "even knowing about your stupid bet with Shelley! I can at least... vaguely fathom that! But I'm supposed to pity you after you come here and tell me that that you rigged the vote? I'm supposed to—supposed to be nice to you after you sit there and wield all sorts of accusations against me, and then—blithely mention how brilliant it feels to have broken James's heart?" (Carlotta started there, but Lily hardly noticed). "Do you know... do you know that I saw him not ten minutes ago, and I told him that you hadn't just—just casually tossed him aside? But that was wrong—just like you casually tossed aside Shelley. I mean—she was—was absolutely right, wasn't she? I don't know why I'm surprised, but for some reason, I expected that—that at least Shelley you would care about... and then when you didn't, I thought, at least James! But, Agrippa's sake, Carlotta, there really isn't anyone in the whole world whose feelings you'll put above your fleeting whims, is there?"

"I..." Carlotta stumbled on that single syllable, however, and did not try for another.

"And I'm so—so tired of making speeches at you. It never makes any difference to you! I mean—why are you even here? Trying to get some sympathy because you've carefully and meticulously alienated just about everyone else? Because you were embarrassed and need someone to feel sorry for you? Because James didn't beg and plead for you to keep him on?" Carlotta's eyes, trained on something rather behind Lily, flickered to her face briefly. Lily didn't—or tried her best not to—care. "Do you really need that much validation? It's... it's stupid—it's beneath you, Carlotta."

Carlotta didn't say anything. After a few seconds, Lily stopped waiting for her to respond—even via facial expression—and, sighing, considered just leaving then. Carlotta finally spoke up when Lily began to turn for the door.

"You really think I broke his heart?" she asked in a small voice.

How very Carlotta.

"I don't know," Lily admitted, sitting down yet again. She found herself distinctly uncomfortable with the idea, but—well, certainly she'd hurt him, and if he ever found out about how she'd rigged the vote...

"I could be in love with him," said Carlotta, without the typical affectation of mystery. "If I tried."

"Then why did you break up with him?" There wasn't really another way to put it, was there? Essentially, that's what she had done.

"I didn't want him to break up with me first. But if he rigged the vote, too—if he wasn't trying to get rid of me..." Carlotta frowned, her mind clearly working hard to sort out what it all meant—what it could mean, if she tried.

"Well then..." It was difficult to determine which of Lily's opinions on the matter were founded on the fact that she definitely did not want Carlotta with James—on her anger with Carlotta for failing to appreciate the fact that she had James, and she'd cared so little, and on the little ache in her chest at the thought of him fancying anyone but her, Lily. It was difficult to determine if the sense that the right thing to do was for Carlotta to call it a day and leave the poor boy alone was based on these feelings, or her genuine, unselfish sympathy for James Potter. "...You'll have to do what you have to do, I suppose."

"If I didn't tell him that I fixed the thing for Shelley..." Carlotta murmured, "If I—if I apologized about the bet..." Her eyes snapped to Lily, and she cynically added: "But you'd tell him, of course, if I were to get him back."

"I'd hope you would tell him," Lily retorted.

"But it would only hurt him more! And if he fought for me—fixing the vote for me, then—then he wants to be with me, so it'd only hurt him to tell him that I arranged our break up like that! It could all be undone, if..."

"Carlotta."

"So you would tell him, then?" she asked defiantly.

"I don't know," Lily admitted. "I might. I—I don't really know."

"That's not very helpful."

"I'm not going to give you permission to lie."

"It won't be lying... just—modifying the sequence of events..."

Lily rolled her eyes. "You'll do what you have to do," she said again. She got up to leave again, but Carlotta—still fixed in deep concentration on some thought that remained unknown to Lily—rose from the desk at the same time.

"No, I'll go," she said quickly. "It's your office, after all." She paused near the door, wanting to say something else that never quite made it into words. Instead, Carlotta only smiled again and, with a farewell nod, left Lily alone.

She went directly to Gryffindor tower, head high as she crossed the Common Room, careful not to glimpse any of those staring at her, especially Shelley, pausing in her retelling of the story to a few fourth years long enough to smirk at her. She walked straight to the staircase to the dormitories, and there she paused. For several seconds, Carlotta went back and forth in her mind, and then she climbed the staircase to her girls' dormitory.

Donna Shacklebolt sat alone inside. Instead of 'hello,' she remarked, "I heard you lost."

That was more or less the last straw. Carlotta made a face at Donna, then stalked into the lavatory, closing the door behind her. In front of the mirror over the tap, she took in her reflection. The sight would have made her flinch, except that she was prepared for the mess that stared back. Drawing her wand, she pulled her hair into a sloppy knot, before setting about washing her face. When she finally dropped the fluffy white towel to inspect the scrubbed, patted, smoothed, and dried face of Carlotta Meloni, she thought the improvements noticeable. She tugged her hair down and smoothed it, but only a little, because she preferred it just a little ruffled—natural and all that.

She achieved the desired effect in about five minutes, and then, with a deep, confidence-building breath, she walked back into the dormitory.

"Where are you going?" Donna asked, as Carlotta—adjusting her skirt at the waist—made for the door.

Carlotta grinned at her. "I'm going to win," she said, and she left to do just that.

She knocked twice on James's door, before his annoyed voice called back: "Fuck off, please."

"It's me," said Carlotta. James didn't reply. "I know you're debating whether or not you want to see me, but please just let's skip to the part where you decide that you have nothing to lose and might as well hear what I have to say." She wondered what his face was like just then—if he was reluctantly smiling, or rolling his eyes, or simply scowling…

"Come in, then," he said.

Scowling.

He was definitely scowling.

The Head Boy lay sprawled across his bed, a quaffle in hand, which—if she had to guess—Carlotta would say that he'd been tossing toward the ceiling, as was his habit. He sat up when she walked into the room, though, setting the quaffle on the bed beside him.

"Want to sit down?" Whatever else he experienced just then, James clearly felt no great excitement at the sight of his ex.

"I don't plan on staying long," Carlotta lied. "I came to apologize."

"You don't need to apologize..."

"Yes, I do..."

"Well, maybe you do, but I'm really not in the mood."

Carlotta nodded. "I know—of course, I understand. But I wish you'd let me... especially since—since I heard what you did... fixing the vote."

James's frown deepened. "That's lovely. Really—fantastic. I feel so much less idiotic now. Brilliant, that..."

"Don't feel idiotic," said Carlotta earnestly, and now she took a seat, besides James and the Quaffle on the bed. "Really, don't. You don't have anything to feel idiotic about. I do. I'm—completely embarrassed... not because of the voting or Shelley or anyone else. You know that I don't care what any one of them thinks. But I'm—completely humiliated that you think so badly of me—that I've deserved it..."

"Stop," he cut her off. "Please. It's better that you leave off with the speech, yeah?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not completely blameless. I shouldn't have shouted at you in front of everyone like that—I feel bad about that. It wasn't right. I should've put an end to the whole voting thing ages ago..."

"I wouldn't let you, though!"

"Yes, but..."

"No, it's not your fault! I could've stopped Fletcher if I'd wanted to, but I didn't, and I didn't let you. I had something to prove to Shelley, but—it was stupid. It was so stupid. It was my bloody pride, thinking I couldn't possibly lose. Because..." Here, her voice broke a little, but perhaps not for the reason obvious to James, "...if I had thought for a second that it would mean we had to break up, I would never have made that bet with Shelley."

James's bitterness had now faded almost entirely, and Carlotta knew she'd made her point. Maybe she hadn't won him over completely just yet, but she was miles closer.

"You can't think—you mustn't believe that I didn't care about you. I did... I do. I've loved being with you—even the last week or so... it hasn't been grand, but I'd much rather have you than not. I like that you—you fidget all the time; you can't ever sit still. And that you—sit in your desk, like it's a big, cushioned chair... and that you doodle in the margins of your notes, and you hold your wand really strangely, and you can't sing, and... you laugh at things that aren't even funny." It was like winning. "I like everything about you, James—I'd never just... throw it away. Not on purpose."

---

Lily was alone in the Head Office for all of two minutes after Carlotta's departure.

"Thank Merlin she's gone," said Sirius Black, dropping into the space beside Lily on the sofa.

Lily, surprised by the sudden arrival of not only Sirius, but Remus and Peter as well, started and took a moment to adjust. "What are you lot doing here?" she asked. "And what do you mean by...?"

"Carlotta," Sirius answered the second question. Peter and Remus both sat on the top of the desk by the wall.

"How did you...?"

"Know she was here?"

Lily nodded.

"Map," they chorused.

Lily frowned. "Why were you looking?"

"Oh, you know..." Sirius waved his hand lazily, as though brushing off the rest of the sentence. Lily arched an eyebrow.

"I really don't."

"Well—it's because... obviously... it would be... awkward. To see her."

"You're hiding from Carlotta?"

"Yes," said Remus quickly. "That's it."

"You know," agreed Peter; "our best mate just broke up with her in front of half the school..."

"...We're probably the last people she wants to see at the moment," added Sirius.

Lily shrugged, but said: "I suppose so. Still, I don't think I've ever known you lot to hide from someone who wasn't trying to put you in detention."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong," said Remus, smiling. "Padfoot's always running from women."

"All the time," said Peter.

"Almost constantly," said Sirius.

"I see..." she replied with a slight smile. More soberly, she added: "How's James?"

"Moping around in the dorm," Sirius told her. "At least, that's what we're assuming."

"What did he say?"

"Well... we haven't exactly spoken to him..."

"Then how...?"

"Map," they said again.

Lily's suspicion grew. "Why are you hiding from everyone?"

"We're not hiding from everyone," said Peter. "Look at us! We're here!"

"With you!" said Sirius cheerily.

"In the Head office, while everyone else is in the Common Room and your recently singled best mate mopes in his dorm," Lily retorted dryly.

"We were just checking in on you, Lily," Remus chipped in. "No ulterior motives."

"Why were you checking in on me?"

"You look like you could use some checking in on," said Peter.

"Not especially, thanks," said Lily. "Actually, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather..."

---

Whatever I said, they ignored it. They were right, though—Sirius, Remus, and Peter. I didn't really want to be left alone. You can't think about the depressing stuff, like that you'd practically just given a girl the go-ahead to get back with the boy you fancy—when you're bantering with three Marauders.

---

"What was Carlotta doing here, anyway?" Peter wanted to know.

"She was looking for James," said Lily vaguely. "We ended up chatting."

"Yes, we know," said Sirius bitterly.

"Map?" asked Lily.

"Yeah," said Remus. "Also, you're a little green. Meloni has that effect on people."

Lily allowed herself a small smile. "I suppose this is good news for you, then. Never Carlotta's best mates, were you?"

The three of them exchanged a look.

"What?" asked Lily. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Sirius was a portrait of innocence.

"That look."

"There was no look," said Remus.

"Yes there was. You look..." She tried to place it: "Guilty." Then, she remembered how they'd been in the Entrance Hall, when they'd explained about Shelley and the bet. "And you did earlier, too. What's going on?"

"Nothing," said Sirius and Peter in unison. Remus looked all the guiltier, though, so Lily focused her attention on him.

"Remus...?"

"What?" said Sirius, jumping to his feet as though insulted. "You don't trust Pete and me?"

"Remus?" Lily repeated. Sirius scowled. "What did you lot do?" A thought occurred to her. "You voted, didn't you? You voted for Shelley, is that it? That's why you're hiding from James..."

"Yes," said Peter.

"You caught us," said Sirius, moving to impede Lily's clear vision of Remus. "We voted for Shelley, and now we feel awful, because of the bet, and..."

"Remus?"

"I'm about to be seriously offended, Evans."

Lily, craning somewhat around Sirius's body, continued to wait for Remus to say something. His eyes burrowed into the ground, and Lily might have repeated his name again, but then, rather abruptly, he looked up and told her.

(Two Days Earlier)

"Moony, your eyes are as beautiful as the stars."

"No," said Remus, "they're more beautiful."

Sirius smirked and stopped even pretending to read off of his scribbled-over parchment that supposedly bore positive words for all of his classmates. Madam Keepdown maintained some kind of perimeter around the mingling seventh years, but if he and his fellow Marauders moved around enough, they successfully avoided her. They'd lost a distractible James in conversation with Reg Cattermole a few minutes earlier, but otherwise, the last half hour of positive energy had been a relative success.

"Oh, look, there's Carlotta," muttered Peter, spotting her close by, in conversation with Donna Shacklebolt. "You should go give her your compliment, Remus. I'm sure you have so many nice things to say to her."

"Carlotta Meloni is the ray of sunshine in my grey life," said Remus sarcastically.

"I do feel a little sorry for her," said Peter. "It can't be fun just now..."

"She called Moony selfish," Sirius reminded him.

"Maybe I am," said Remus grimly. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You see," he spoke to Peter, "we spend years trying to get Remus off his silly guilt obsession and two... months... with Carlotta, and she's completely wrecked all of our hard work."

The three of them glanced at the witch in question, and the lull in their own conversation allowed them to catch a bit of hers.

"Well, it's not really for a bloke, is it?" Carlotta was saying to Donna. "Although: what a bloke..."

"So this is about annoying Shelley, then?" asked Donna. "In that case, I could potentially stoop to this level... if it were to annoy someone I really despised."

"I don't despise Shelley..." Carlotta replied, with feeling, but not without shades of doubt. "I just—you know... want to..."

"Destroy her," Donna concluded for her.

"Figuratively," said Carlotta lightly.

"Funny," said Sirius to his mates. "I thought she'd already done that."

"That was a bit cold," Peter agreed. "She doesn't speak like that to Prongs."

"She'll win, though," lamented Padfoot. "That's just how it works."

"You think so, do you?" asked Remus.

"Sure. People don't like Carlotta, but they know who she is."

"Right," said Remus, and as his gaze dropped to the floor, a very thoughtful spark lit in his grey eyes.

"What's up, Moony?"

"I just..." He trailed off. "What if...?"

"What?" asked Sirius and Peter together.

Remus turned to Sirius. "We haven't played a good prank in a while, have we?"

"We bewitched the Herbology section of the Library to read in Greek three days ago," said Peter. Remus ignored him. Sirius looked almost frightened, but more than a little bit intrigued, too.

"What have you got in mind, Moony?"

"Something awful and bad and you should definitely not encourage me."

"Of course not." Sirius smirked. "Now what is it?"

---

"We fixed the vote for Shelley."

Peter groaned, and Sirius threw his hands up in resignation; Lily only stared at Remus.

"...And we know it was wrong," he rushed on, while Sirius retired to the desk again. "We wouldn't have done it, if we knew about the bet with Shelley and Carlotta, but she—Carlotta—was being... damned obnoxious, and we just sort of thought it would be fitting for her to lose to Shelley, and..."

But enough was enough.

Lily had snapped at the initial confession, and now anger and confusion and a plethora of other emotions she hadn't the time to identify bubbled up inside her, while she forced her voice calm and said: "You rigged it. You three rigged it too?"

"What do you mean, 'too?'" asked Peter, but Lily didn't answer.

"He's your best mate!"

"We're aware," said Sirius wincing; he tumbled from the desk to the sofa. "But what did you mean by 'too?'"

"How could you?" Lily went on, punching Sirius's arm, not too hard ("Oi!").

"Well, we..."

"No, no, no," she stated furiously. "I am tired of this. Why do you all feel compelled to make your confessions to me anyway?"

"Well we..."

"You lot are telling James what you've done," she spoke over Remus. "And you're telling Carlotta. And no one else is getting anything off their chest to me again until the five of you have had it out..." She was already at the door by this point, but none of the Marauders had moved.

But enough was enough.

She took Peter and Sirius by the arm and actively dragged them out of the little office, so Remus was compelled to follow.

"Oi, Lily," grumbled Sirius, jogging along after her frenzied paces down the corridor; "your fingernails are sharp..."

"You see, this is why my best mate was an antisocial Slytherin for years and years," Lily rambled on, without the slightest note of Peter and Sirius's complaints. "It's mad! It's mad that everyone has to be in everyone else's business, and you and Carlotta and even James couldn't just communicate—you had to go behind each other's backs, and then you talk to me about it, and I'm just supposed to—well I won't. I won't, because it's mad. Agrippa's sake—what does it matter if Carlotta's a tart or if Shelley's gotten thin, or…" She'd stopped speaking to them altogether now: this was her general anger at just about all of her classmates, and the three Marauders just happened to play witness to it: "…and Mundungus, making money off of it, and all the twits voting because they hate Carlotta or Shelley or James or whoever, and..."

"Wait a minute." Remus had stopped following her footsteps. "'We rigged the vote, too?' Who else rigged the vote?"

"James rigged it for Carlotta!" said Lily. She breathed twice, because this was the moment to decide whether she would out Carlotta, or hope against reason that Carlotta would out herself.

But it wasn't her secret to tell...

"James was trying to get those idiots off his back, so he added votes for Carlotta. Now what do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Prongs is going to kill us?" offered Sirius shamefully.

"If you're lucky," said Lily. "C'mon."

The remainder of the walk to Gryffindor Tower consisted of additional explanation, and a little more ranting on Lily's part, but by the time they reached the entrance, she'd calmed down a little.

"Oddment," she said to the drowsy Fat Lady, and the painting swung forward to reveal a still fully active Common Room. Lily could not be bothered by it, though, and she didn't even notice the confused looks from Mary and Marlene as she marched the boys up the dormitory staircases, concluding at last by the door to the Head Boys' room. She knocked but did not wait for a response, and was therefore fortunate that a less desirable scene did not meet her when she flung open the door.

James and Carlotta sat on the bed, a blessedly safe distance between them, evidently in deep conversation, which the new arrivals completely disrupted.

Before either of them could offer so much as a confused utterance of her name, Lily held up her hand for silence. She was blushing deeply at having interrupted what must have been Carlotta doing whatever she had to do, but the Head Girl only used her general embarrassment to augment the command in her voice as she stepped aside to make way for the extraneous Marauders and said: "You three. In."

They obeyed, Remus and Peter with the appropriate amount of remorse, and Sirius entirely without it. He paused to smirk at Lily while he sauntered past: "I love it when you're pushy."

"I'm still angry with you," said Lily, raising a threatening finger at him, though her confidence in the statement waned somewhat.

"And I with you," he replied. lightly. "You might have popped a vein on my arm with those nails of yours..."

"What's going on?" James wanted to know, as he got up from the bed.

"Honestly!" said Carlotta, but without equal force. She looked only at Lily, who did not reciprocate.

"Everyone in this room," she said instead, eyes moving between Sirius, Remus, Peter, and the spaces above the respective heads of the other two, "has something to say to at least one of the others. Here's my part of it, okay? Leave me alone. All of you. Just please, I am begging you, leave me out of it. And I know that now, you're all thinking, well, if you want to be left out of it, Evans, perhaps you should take a stab at not dragging everyone around and telling them what to do, but I'm only doing this because I—care about some of you, and—tolerate the rest of you, and I'm really, really just trying to do what's right by everyone, and I am hoping to God that you all will do the same."

---

And on that unfathomably embarrassing note, I left.

---

The door swung shut behind Lily, and James stared, bewildered, at everyone else. "Is she all right?" he wanted to know, but no one seemed to have a response, and so he followed her out onto the stair. "Oi—Snaps!" He ignored a few seconds years perched along some steps immediately below Lily. "Are you okay?"

She turned to face him, and there was something vaguely manic about her visage. "No," she assured him, shaking her head. "Not really, but—it's fine. Really, you know, because—I truly despise this boat, but, as ghastly as it is... I know that I'm going to be... just fine. And that's a nice thing to know about yourself, you know?"

Positively drowning in his confusion, James shook his head: "Not at all."

Lily calmed. "Never mind," she said, her smile softening. "You should go in there, now. I'll—see you tomorrow."

He made another argument—said something else, but Lily didn't listen. She shook her head and urged him to be off, and he relented. Carlotta met him at the top of the stair.

"Do you know what's...?"

"I need to talk to Lily, James," Carlotta said quickly. "I'll be right there."

"And I'm going to stop pretending I have any idea what's going on and sit in my room until someone explains it to me," said James. "Cheers."

He went into his room, and Carlotta killed the time before the door closed by sending the second years away and joining Lily in the middle of the staircase. "You didn't tell him," she muttered. "And you didn't tell them—his mates, either. Why not?"

Lily shrugged. "I guess—his mates loathe you, and they mean everything to him. So if he still wants to make a go of it with you, he must really fancy you, right?"

"But..."

"Well, you didn't tell either, Meloni—and you knew I wouldn't. I reckon we're both predictable tonight."

"It wouldn't do any good..."

"Goodnight, Carlotta."

Without another word, Lily departed for her own room.

---

SMACK.

Carlotta winced even as her hand dropped from Sirius's face, and he let out a howl-like sound.

"Why is everyone hitting me?" he demanded, clutching the red spot on his cheek. "It was Remus's idea!"

"It was," Remus admitted, ashamed. He looked so terribly apologetic, however, that Carlotta did not move to strike him as well. Instead, she folded her arms and stared expectantly at the both of them, as well as Peter, who stood by Sirius's side. "We're very sorry, Carlotta," he said. "We didn't mean for it to come off like this at all."

Carlotta's expression softened measurably. "How did you mean for it to 'come off' then?"

"We were just fooling around," said Remus. "It was—a stupid prank. It was my fault—not theirs..."

"Moony..."

"No, Sirius—it's true; it was my fault... I was the one who was angry, and it was my idea."

"Yeah, but everyone knows I'm the bad influence..."

"You're not a bad influence..."

"Yes, because if I didn't encourage your lesser impulses..."

"You know, it's a bit insulting when you say that, because you're acting like I can't make my own decisions..."

"It's not that you can't, Moony, but you probably wouldn't make the bad ones, if I weren't around to poke you until you did..."

"You were hardly poking me, Padfoot..."

"Are you two finished?" James interrupted, and they both fell silent. "Honestly..." He was pacing in front of his bed, while the other three Marauders stood in a row before him like naughty children awaiting judgment from an angered parent. Carlotta stood a little off to the side, quiet now. "You lot are supposed to be my mates! Why would you do that to me? And to Carlotta? It's..."

"We're sorry, Prongs," said Peter loudly, taking everyone by surprise. "There isn't an excuse—we're just sorry, that's all. We shouldn't have done it. We should have told you that we were annoyed and spoken to Carlotta, but we didn't, and we're sorry."

James wasn't quite prepared to accept that, but he had no response. "Fine," he said eventually. "I'll talk to you lot later."

They nodded. "And if you like," said Remus, specifically to Carlotta, "we can tell everyone that you didn't... necessarily lose the vote."

"No," said Carlotta. "You don't have to. There's no real point to it, and..." She shrugged, "Shelley always wanted to be popular."

Carlotta looked at James, and he looked back. The other three Marauders made a point of not looking, and they were all suddenly conscious of the fact that their presence was now both unnecessary and unwanted. Remus and Sirius exchanged doubtful glances, but regardless of their own hopes for the outcome of this tête-à-tête, they had no right to interfere... or perhaps they had somewhat abused that privilege in the last few days. And so, the three reluctantly started for the door.

"I'm sorry, Carlotta," said Remus as he passed her.

"We're really sorry," said Peter.

Sirius nodded. "'Sorry."

"It's... it's all right," said Carlotta again. Remus and Peter left the dormitory, but Sirius paused in the doorway.

"You'll be along soon, Prongs?"

But Remus grabbed Sirius's shoulder and pulled him along before James could reply.

---

Almost there, now, Sam. I promise.

---

Lily wasn't even drowsy when a knock interrupted her half-hearted attempts to read herself into unconsciousness. So, with a sigh, she called, "Come in," and set down Daphne de Maurier. Sirius entered.

"What do you want?" Lily asked suspiciously. "And how do you get up here? Really, it's ridiculous, you have to explain..."

"Someday, someday." Sirius strolled into the room, and then sat himself down at the foot of Lily's bed. "I see you're all ready for me."

"Sirius."

"Only joking."

Lily exhaled woefully. "What do you want? I'm really not in the mood to chat just now."

"I know," he answered genuinely. "I won't be long. But I owe you an explanation and an apology, and what kind of mate would I be if I let you drift off to sleep without either?"

"The nice kind?"

Sirius ignored this. "First, I'm sorry for dragging you into all of this."

"It doesn't matter," said Lily, waving him off. "You didn't really. I was already dragged in—you were just the hair that broke the hippogriff's back. What did James say, anyway?"

"Not much. Carlotta had more to say—we all had to apologize to her."

Lily snorted. "Lovely."

"But maybe there was good cause for that," the Marauder pressed on. "Listen, the others—Remus and Peter, they went ahead with the plan to fix the vote because they were sore at Carlotta for being an intolerable bore. That's true. But it's not why I did it..."

"Oh?"

"I—well, I reckon I knew Prongs and Carlotta would break up if Shelley won."

Lily's eyes widened. "You knew about the bet?"

"No," said Sirius, "but I knew Carlotta—she's got too much pride to stick to it after that."

"You would, Sirius. Really," said Lily, shaking her head. "But it doesn't matter now, I suppose?"

"Did you put her up to it, then? Making up with Prongs, I mean."

"No. I didn't stop her, though." She frowned, drawing invisible shapes on the cover of her book with her finger. "Could've. Didn't."

"And why not?" He pulled his legs onto the bed and crossed them beneath him. The image created was somewhat comical. "Sometimes I don't understand you, Evans."

Lily shrugged lazily. "I don't know—I suppose Carlotta wanted to take it back, and she had the chance, and... I sympathized."

"Says the witch wearing pajamas with kittens on them."

"They're cute. Look, there're puppies, too..."

"Oh, naturally..." They shared a laugh about Lily's fashion preferences, before Sirius got up. "I'll leave you to it, then," he said, beginning for the door. "'Suppose you've had enough excitement for one evening, without the added thrill of having Sirius Black in your bedchamber."

"Hang on, then," said Lily, and she sat up. "I have a question for you, too."

"Fire away."

"You fixed the vote against Carlotta for me—is that right?"

"'Bit full of yourself..."

"Sirius..."

"Essentially, yes."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Why? I mean—in general, why do you think that... James and I should... be together?" When Sirius did not respond at once, she carried on: "Up until now, I've rather assumed it was just one of your arbitrary whims or something—or because we're matey and all that..."

"That's not really it," mused Sirius.

"I thought not. I mean—she's... Carlotta Meloni. You should be... cheering him on or something, shouldn't you?"

Sirius concentrated for a moment, as though contemplated how to best phrase this. At length, he began: "Prongs, Moony, Wormtail and I became mates in second year, right?"

"Right..."

"...And there wasn't—wasn't really a reason for it. I mean, I couldn't explain it. One day the four of us just... clicked, or something. See?"

"So far..."

"And when we were younger, I'd always assumed that the four of us would—you know—end up old, mad bachelors together, chasing twenty-two year old witches and getting hammered and never really getting old, you know?"

"Mature."

"Yes, well... the thing is—I don't see that anymore. For some reason, and I can't explain it anymore than I can explain the fact that Wormtail and Prongs are best mates, because you wouldn't believe it to look at them—you, Evans, click."

"I click?"

"You click."

"Meaning?"

Sirius smirked. "It means that you had better adjust to the four of us fucking things up, because when you marry Prongs, you're stuck with us. We're sort of a collection—only come as the set, you know."

Lily couldn't help but laugh. "That's very nice, Black, but I have no intention of marrying James."

This detail failed to concern Sirius. "Sure, Ginger. Give it a year, yeah?" He saluted her, turned on his heel, and was gone. Lily climbed back underneath her covers. She sat there for all of a minute, before kicking off her blankets and skipping over to the desk. She took out a quill, some ink, and a fresh scroll of parchment, and she began to write.

---

And that's the end of it. Well, just about, anyway.

I hope you enjoyed my little story, Sam, drama and all. And I hope it's clear why I did need to write this all down. If I'm lucky, it's entertaining for you, too. But at least there's a happy ending: reconciled lovers and all that.

It's just that you can't hold a secret inside of you forever (or anyway, I can't) and I don't really know how I'll go about not telling James about Carlotta's fixing the vote, unless I get it out on paper to you. It's karma, I suppose... everyone's got something coming to them. Some people have loads, some have a little, and I had this.

It's late now, though. It's taken me about an hour to get all this on paper, so I suppose I'll answer those questions from your last in the next letter... I'm finally feeling as thought I might sleep, so I'll be off to bed.

At any rate, a very Happy Halloween to you! All my love to everyone at M.F.P., and goodnight and best wishes.

Love,

Lily

---

She sealed up the letter and tied it to Nico's leg. The owl took off, and Lily watched her until at last she disappeared in the cloudy overhang. Then, the witch sat down at the vanity. She stared at her reflection for several seconds, willing herself to look and feel even as cheerful—hell, she'd settle for resigned—as the farewell of her letter.

But it would not do. After a few minutes, she kept her word and went to bed.

That was the end of the story as far as Lily knew it, but, of course, there is always more to a story than most people realize, and Lily had erred in a way that she ought to have predicted—a fundamental mistake made in spell of defensive cynicism. But she ought to have followed her own advice:

Never underestimate Carlotta Meloni.

(Earlier)

The door clicked shut behind Sirius, and the James and Carlotta stood awkwardly alone in the Head Boy's dormitory.

"So," said James eventually. "My mates are great, yeah?"

"But they mean everything to you," Carlotta quietly replied.

"Nah, not really—'could do without them, honestly. Gits, the lot of them..." Carlotta smiled appreciatively and sat down on the bed. James, a little confused by the change in her, followed.

What James did not know was that something extraordinary happened. The cocktail of emotions surging through Carlotta arranged themselves in a particular, familiar way, so that for a moment, she felt exactly as she had, once before. For that instant, she felt transported to that other time and place: a beach, and a decision, and Teeglow, and opportunities seized and missed.

"Fuck," she sighed.

"What?" asked James, surprised, because Carlotta seldom swore.

"She truly is an annoying bitch, isn't she? I mean—she just—gets inside your head like that, doesn't she?"

"What are you...?"

Carlotta shook her head quickly; she reached over and took James by the hand. "Dear," she said morosely, "I think I have to tell you the truth."

"What's that?" asked James.

She collected herself. "I—I didn't just bet with Shelley. I sort of—fixed the vote for her."

The reaction to that was to be expected. James withdrew his hand. "You fixed it for... why?" But almost by the time he'd asked it, he'd guessed the answer. "You fixed yourself to lose, because then we would have to..."

"Break up," said Carlotta quietly. "Yes."

She waited a few seconds for him to sort the rest of it out, and fortunately, he did so quickly.

"Why?" he eventually asked again.

"There's no simple answer," Carlotta told him truthfully. "Because I was afraid you were going to break up with me... because I was tired of being a girlfriend..."

"Then why did you—y'know—try to get back together? Why lie again...?" It was the oddest thing: he didn't seem angry yet—just curious. He understood the subterfuge, but the back-tracking didn't come so naturally to his concept of decision-making.

"I found out you'd fixed the thing for me," said Carlotta carefully. "And that meant you didn't want to get rid of me."

"Of—of course I didn't want to get rid of you!" (Now he was getting angry...) "If I'd wanted that, I'd have broken up with you, like a..."

"Normal human being?" James nodded, getting to his feet. "But would you?" she added.

"Of course!"

"Maybe, but..."

"But what?"

Carlotta sighed. "You accepted that excuse in the Great Hall pretty easily," she said. "It was a way out..."

"Don't put this on me," snapped James. "I'm not the one who manipulated the whole school into getting you dumped!"

"Yes," she pressed, joining him in standing. "But come on, James... weren't you a little—just slightly... relieved?"

"No."

"James..."

"No, I wasn't," he said again. "I felt like an idiot. I felt betrayed and stupid—that's how I felt—and it's got nothing on how I feel now..."

"I know. I'm sorry."

James didn't reply; he resumed his pacing, back and forth for a minute or so. Tensely, Carlotta waited for him to arrive at the final why—the trickiest to satisfy, no less.

"So why did you tell me this?" he came through finally, when he'd calmed a bit. "You didn't have to."

"Well, no," she admitted. "But it gets old, you know... being in love with someone who's not in love with you."

James's eyes widened.

"Oh, no—I didn't mean..." She laughed a little. "I'm not in love with you. But it could have happened that way. Very easily, I think. And it wouldn't have been any fun, so I wouldn't have liked it. Not with Shelley and... the others."

She didn't say the name: the one name they'd kept carefully out of this, and other conversations, because to speak it would break the spell and shatter the now cracked illusion that this ending of things (or some ending) was not, at least for now, inevitable. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, but Carlotta now realized that she had always fervently believed that it was.

"Do you hate me very much?" she asked.

"You're not my favorite, just at the moment," he allowed.

"All right." For some time, that word hung in the air, the last spoken communication between them, while Carlotta sat down, and James sorted out anything else he felt compelled to add. But there didn't seem to be much else to add, because minutes—that in silence seemed hours—stretched on. Finally, Carlotta spoke up. "James?"

Startled, as though he'd forgotten she remained in the room: "Mmm?"

She just looked at him, expectantly, and James sat down again, this time at the desk. "I was just trying to figure out who really won the vote."

"Really?"

"Mhm. When did you rig it?"

Carlotta gave the details.

"Then there's a good chance you actually won, y'know?" said James. "And at least it's nice to know I didn't do a hilariously bad job fixing the thing for you."

"Between your mates and me, you had your work cut out for you," said Carlotta solemnly.

James chuckled, and so did Carlotta. When they stopped, the air between the two of them was significantly lighter. The tension released, the quiet became more comfortable, though it still seemed to be waiting for something... something that—with a labored sigh—Carlotta eventually needed to prompt.

"So," she began. "You know everything now. I almost hate to ask, but... well someone has to..."

James nodded slowly.

"Where do we go from here?"

---

Early November first, three Marauders sat in their dormitory—awake, though they all had classes in a matter of hours. Remus and Peter played chess; Sirius had a flask. They all sat on the floor nearest to the window.

"Pawn to E-five," Remus whispered, voice low for the sake of the sleeping Adam McKinnon.

"I don't know why you're ignoring the question, Moony," Sirius complained, balancing his wand horizontally on the index finger of his non-flask-bearing hand.

"Because Prongs has had enough people betting on his personal life in the last week," said Remus dryly. "And keep your voice down—Adam's asleep."

"It wasn't a bet," said Sirius. "It was speculation on whether we'll be allowed to see him again till he and Meloni break up again."

"Ten galleons Carlotta draws up a schedule of visiting hours," said Peter resentfully.

"See, that's a bet. Good odds for Pete, too..."

"It's your move, Wormtail," said Remus, ignoring them.

"Knight to F-five."

"Bad move," remarked Sirius, climbing up onto the window seat. "It's 'cause you can't see the bloody board. If you'd just use a lumos..."

"It'll wake Adam..."

"No, it..."

"Too late," groaned Adam, from behind the curtains of his bed. A moment later, those curtains slid aside, and McKinnon himself emerged, somewhat bleary-eyed but without the look of someone who'd been yanked abruptly from sleep. "Thanks for trying, though, Lupin. Budge over, Black..."

Sirius sat up to make room for Adam, who then proceeded to take the flask from him.

"You're feisty after midnight," remarked Sirius.

Adam yawned. "You've kept me up for half an hour," he replied, before drinking deeply from the flask. The liquid hit his throat, and he coughed covering his mouth and handing the flask back immediately. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"He calls it a 'Graveyard,'" said Peter.

"Because that's where it'll get you?" asked Adam.

"No, because it's the last of every bottle," Sirius told him. "Where liquor goes to die. In this case: gin, firewhiskey, and ale..."

"Seek help, Black."

"I have. It's called a Graveyard." He lifted the flask in mock toast.

"Where's Potter?" Adam asked, while Remus and Peter continued their game. "Thought he'd be around now that he and Meloni split..."

"You're a rubbish eavesdropper," said Sirius. "I wouldn't count on his and Meloni splitting."

"I thought everyone said that's what happened after supper," said Adam. "That they broke up in the Entrance Hall."

"Nothing gold can last," said Sirius dismally. He took another swig of the Graveyard.

"You're going to be sick," Remus told him.

"No, I'm—what was that?"

"What was what?" said Peter, looking around, for Sirius's eyes had moved to the dormitory door.

"That noise."

"There was no n..."

"Yes, there was—it was on the staircase. I heard it."

"Someone's probably just going downstairs," Adam said reasonably, and, by the sound of it, he was correct; footsteps could be heard on the steps outside the dormitory.

"It's probably a ghoul," said Sirius, hoping to frighten Peter.

"Ghouls don't have footsteps," Peter replied.

"A murderer, then."

"Why would there be a murderer in the boys' dormitories?"

"It's probably..."

"It's probably coming in here," said Remus: accurately, too, as the footsteps stopped outside the door, and the handle suddenly began to turn. The boys fell silent.

It was neither ghoul nor murderer, but only James. This seemed remarkable enough to the four of them, however, and they observed him with confusion as he strolled over and sat down on the nearest trunk—Remus's, at the foot of his bed.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sirius, speaking for them all.

"Well I was going to sleep in my old bed, but I reckon there's no chance of that with you lot up... and drinking," James added, with a glance at Sirius's flask.

"Graveyard?" he offered, but James declined. Sirius voiced the second question they all wanted answered. "Where's the girlfriend?"

James sighed. "No girlfriend."

"No girlfriend?" Peter echoed. "What happened?"

"Nothing," said James simply. He considered the chess board. "And Moony's going to win this game..."

"Don't change the subject," insisted Sirius. "No girlfriend? No Carlotta?"

"No girlfriend, no Carlotta." He obviously enjoyed this.

"Carlotta didn't come back downstairs..." Remus said slowly. "Prongs, you haven't been disposing of a body all this time, have you?"

James merely shook his head.

"You're quite vexing, Prongs," Sirius accused.

"Well, I find it vexing when my mates fix votes against my girlfriend, but..."

"You fixed the vote for Shelley?" said Adam, half laughing.

"It's not funny—it's really mean, actually, especially when you consider..."

"Prongs, no one cares," Sirius spoke over him. "No girlfriend, no Carlotta. Explain. And, tell the truth..." He sounded genuinely concerned: "You didn't murder her and hide the body, right?"

"We talked," said James. "And we decided not to get back together. And then she went to sleep."

The others continued to stare at him, puzzled.

"I don't understand this story," said Adam.

"You are skipping part of it, aren't you?" asked Sirius. "Between the talking and the sleeping..."

"We didn't shag. She just didn't want to go to her dorm, because Shelley would be there, so I said she could sleep in my bed. And then she fell asleep, and I worked on homework, until I wanted to go to bed, and I realized how uncomfortable the whole thing would be, so I came down here. That's the whole story—are you going to finish your chess game or what?"

"So she slept in your bed," said Peter, and he—like the others—ignored both James's question and the paused game before him.

"After you broke up?" Remus pressed.

"And you didn't have anywhere to sleep?" said Adam.

"Prongs, out of curiosity," Sirius began, "how does it feel to be a Hufflepuff?"

"You don't get to make fun of me, Padfoot," snapped James. "I'm still angry with you: all three of you!"

"No, you're not."

"We're too likable."

"I can't believe you're supposed to be my best mates..."

"I can't believe Carlotta stole your bed..."

"Shut up! It—it made sense at the time..."

"The blood hadn't circulated back to your brain yet?"

"We didn't shag!"

"Well don't brag about it..."

"Hand over the Graveyard, Black," said Adam. "With you lot back together, I'm never going to sleep without liquor."

---

A/N: Reviews are ALL the puppies.

Love and so much gratitude to all of you,

Jules