Here I am again with another chapter. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are like cookies! =)

-ES

"You. Look. Gorgeous." Marlene fake-fainted and Alice laughed, putting the magazine she was reading aside to look at me. She got up from the bed where she was sitting on and walked closer. That evening, it happened. The Christmas Ball. I was nervous, I'll admit. What would the people think of me? I'd be the only Muggleborn in the Potter Mansion. Suddenly, I wondered if people could tell if you were a pureblood or not. Sweet Merlin, I thought, I hope they can't.

"Lily, stop worrying," Alice told me, putting her hands on my shoulders. Marlene was blocking the door, making sure James nor Sirius could walk in, reading Alice's forgotten magazine.

"Those Muggles are sick," she muttered, turning the little book upside-down. "How do they do that?"

"It's called Photoshop, Mar, it's not real," Alice sighed, focusing on me once again. After turning me around, picking some loose threads and adjusting the dress on my body, she decided it was perfect.

"I still think it's a bit much," I said, referring to the back of the dress. "Are you sure James will like it?"

"If he doesn't, he's mad," Marlene said, throwing away the magazine. It hit the wall and fell to the floor with a soft thump. "I'm serious, Lils. You're every guy's wet dream, dressed like that."

"Marlene!" I laughed. She always had a special way with words. Alice grinned and shook her head.

"She has a point, you know. You look ravishing. You should look out for Juggins," she advised me.

"If he dares to come close, I'll kick him in the – "

"Language, Miss Evans," we heard from my dressing. When I had accepted the towel from Marlene to cover myself and we had turned around, Raphael was smirking at us from the door post of my personal bathroom. He was holding my pomegranate-body scrub.

"You've got quite the beauty products, little girl. No wonder why your skin is so soft," he said arrogantly. He had been leaning against the doorpost, but he pushed himself to his feet and started walking toward me, throwing the little tube on the bed.

"What are you –"

"Prewett's right, you know. I think Potter's got some competition tonight."

"Out," I said, my blood boiling. I forgot the towel, letting it fall to the ground. I opened the door and motioned for him he had to go.

"Fine, fine. But remember, when I'm between your legs tonight, I'm going to make you scream," he winked, licking his lips. He laughed when he saw my furious face.

"I'll scream right now. OUT, JUGGINS!" Once he had left the room, I threw the door shut.

"He's such a jerk!" Marlene said, kicking a chair so it flipped over and landed on the floor in multiple pieces. Alice muttered a quick Reparo to limit the damage.

"We know, Mar. But by ruining chairs, we're not going to fix it. We need to teach him a lesson. A good one," she said, giving us a look. Marlene and I looked at each other; we knew where this was going.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, suddenly interested.

When I was dressed normally again, I went downstairs, looking for James. However, it was Remus that crossed my path. I found him studying a painting in the hallway, and I wondered why he was so fascinated about it, until I saw what he was looking at. Black and white stripes, people screaming, running, shooting; this was a picture of Worldwar 2. Why would the Potters have something like that hanging on their wall?

"It's not a picture of the Muggle war, you know," Remus said, without turning around. He must've heard me when I'd came of the stairs. "It's from a magical one."

I looked again at the piece of art on the wall. When I took a second look, I noticed he was right. The people on the picture weren't screaming: they were shouting spells. They weren't shooting with guns: they had wands in their hands. They were wizards.

"Which one?" I asked. I couldn't help but notice; it looked like Remus had lost someone in this war. He was too quiet, too… heartbroken.

"Just a regular one between followers of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin," he shrugged, rubbing his eyes. They were red. He turned away from the painting and gave me a faint smile.

"If that's the case, then why are you crying?" I asked, touching his arm softly. He sighed.

"That war was 16 years ago. The week before I was born. My dad died that day," he explained. My heart fell. This was the last thing I had been expecting.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, taking him in my arms. "But, if you don't mind, I'm going to ask you something." He nodded, encouraging me to keep talking.

"Why are you telling me this?" I looked at the floor, feeling rude for asking that.

"Today he died 17 years ago, exactly," he softly cried. "I just wanted to tell someone about it. I'm sorry –"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "If you want to talk about something, I'm your girl, you hear me? I'm here for you." He hugged me once more, smiled again and walked away, leaving me alone in the corridor.

I shrugged the story of off me and continued my search for James. I found him in the kitchen and he wasn't alone. It wasn't Sirius, Peter or Marlene who laid on the ground. It was Juggins. And Juggins was bleeding. James was hitting Juggins with his bare hands and didn't seem able to stop.

"James!" I screamed, distracting him. Juggins got from under him and shot a curse at James, petrifying him. After that, he shot an Avada Kedavra at him. My boyfriend lay lifeless at his feet.

"NO!" I screamed again, in tears now. Juggins saw me standing in the doorpost and grinned. I was a wreck, tears, hysteric and terrified. I decided I could fight Juggins and drew my wand. Let me rephrase that: I tried to grab my wand. I didn't find it, and in one split second I was on him, pulling his hair out, scratching his skin with my fingernails and biting him.

"Evans!" a voice far away yelled at me. I didn't pay attention; I was killing the murderer of my boyfriend.

Suddenly, I was in my bed, and I felt somebody grab my shoulders and shake me awake. "Evans!"

I opened my eyes and looked straight into the face of Juggins. "Wake up, little girl. You're having a bad dream."

I was hyperventilating, still screaming and kicking around me. Juggins held my shoulders against my bed and whispered in my ear.

"Now you know what I can do, you're going to listen very carefully. You're going to do exactly what I tell you to do and Potter's never going to know. Otherwise I'll kill him and his family, understood?"

"Why?" I panted, trying to push him off me.

"Because I can, love." I could feel his lips grin against my earshell. "And don't forget we're going to kill you too, Mudblood."

Suddenly, without warning, my brain recognized the voice. It was a Death Eather's. Lestrange's. My eyes widened, but before I could react, he had disappeared like a ghost in the night.