Lily slipped out of their shared room early the next morning, before Hermione woke. Not even because she didn't want to be around the girl; after her nightly conversation with Sirius, she found she just couldn't sleep. Her brain was just too busy. She tried to get an early breakfast and focus it on what she actually wanted to do, but by the time Transfiguration began, she still hadn't succeeded.

Thankfully for her rapidly declining mental capacity, today was a lecture from the Durmstrang professor, and Lily allowed herself to doze off in the back, hiding behind a pile of her books while Ron and Neville kept a lookout at her sides. When she woke up, her head was pounding.

"Kept muttering in your sleep," Neville told her as they walked to their next class. "Something about crouching, I think?"

"Really?" Lily asked, rubbing at her temples to try and ease her pain.

"And something about a 'Masquerade,'" Ron clarified.

"That makes sense, at least," Lily muttered, glaring at a nearby group of snickering second years. "Voldemort's probably still angry that I crashed his little coming back party."

"Speaking of which," Ron said, moving closer and dropping his voice. "I've been meaning to ask you about that. You- err- you didn't happen to see any skulls around there, did you?"

"Skulls?" Lily asked, her brow crinkling. "Just the Death Eater masks. No actual ones, if that's what you were after."

"And they weren't wearing them while dancing, were they?"

"No?" Lily said, massaging her pulsing scar again. "Why are you asking all this, anyway?"

"No reason," Ron said, shrugging and seeming like a weight was coming off his shoulders. "Suppose the old bat just got to me. Just watch out at any other 'end of year' celebrations, would you?"

"Bat?" Lily said, glossing over the last part. "Pardon?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, what bat?"

Lily didn't find out, but she thankfully had Care of Magical Creatures to distract her. They didn't have Hagrid back quite yet, which was a real shame; Lily was very much looking forward to seeing how much her skrewts had grown, and the other professors simply refused to even acknowledge their existence. She supposed Grimpuffs were good enough, though. They were almost as cute as pygmy puffs, but their colours were more subdued and their faces were dour. Lily kind of liked that more, though. It was like it spoke directly to her soul.

Plus, they were still just as soft and cuddly, and that was a bonus point in her book.

Ancient Runes wasn't nearly as fun, though. She meant to sit right next to Hermione, but the girl was surrounded by Ravenclaw students when she arrived, and she was chatting happily with Mandy Brocklehurst in particular. She supposed that was her fault for taking to so long to get here; she was one of the volunteers to help put the Grimpuffs back in their cages, and she just didn't want to separate from hers when it kept clinging so closely to her robes. She spent her class time doodling the poor little guy instead of paying attention. She was fine with that, though; she was certain she'd fall asleep if she didn't have the distraction.

After class, she returned to the dorm early. She intended on getting started on her homework, since she had so much of it to get through, but as soon as Weasley settled on her lap and ruined that plan, she felt herself drifting off to sleep. She woke up still surrounded by her scrolls, books, and notes, with Weasley snoring away curled at Hermione's sleeping side instead of hers. That stung, but not as much as her scar was. She rinsed her face with cold water before heading upstairs for breakfast.

"Merlin, why in their right mind decided we need to have Transfiguration three times a week," Lily said, slumping her head behind her usual book fort.

"You say that as if you don't need it," Ron said. "I just wish he had someone other than this rotter. Can't understand a word he's saying."

"I think he's doing it on purpose," Neville said, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher the Durmstrang professor's thick accent. "Trying to give the Durmstrang students the edge over the others."

"Makes sense to me," Ron said, leaning back in his chair as Lily started to drift off into dreamland. "Sometimes I swear he switches into Bulgarian. Not like I can tell the difference, anyway."

Lily's increasing sleepiness wasn't helped by Wednesday Transfiguration being followed immediately by History of Magic. The French professor she could listen to for hours, sure (and that had absolutely nothing to do with the woman being incredibly pretty and having a wonderful voice what-so-ever), but Binns and the Durmstrang fellow seemed to be in an intense competition to give the most boring possible lectures.

At the very least, they followed up the most boring lecture in existence with the most exciting one: Defense Against the Dark Arts (or Dueling, if Beauxbatons was hosting that week). They finally had Moody back, and rather than continuing to drill them on resisting the Imperius Curse, he was now drilling them all on how to identify someone who was under it : ask personal questions, recognize unusual behaviours, and a whole bunch of other stuff that made Lily's mind swim.

"Remember all of this," he said near the end of class. "Because in a few weeks' time, we'll be testing it. I've got permission from all three schools to run some extensive tests. 'Fraid the next few weeks will be filled with an awful lot of me."

"Excellent," Ron said, smiling excitedly. Lily didn't know if she quite agreed; she liked Dueling, although that had an awful lot to do with being able to put everybody in their place. It always made her feel better when she could curse everybody that tormented her without getting into trouble for it. And while she was sure Moody would approve, as it wasn't on the Hogwarts curriculum, she was also sure she'd still get into massive amounts of trouble.

"Potter," Moody barked when the bell rang high above. "Stay. I need to speak with you."

"What now?" Lily said with a groan, laying her head on the desk so she didn't have to deal with people sniggering and looking at her. Ron and Neville both gave her a pat on the shoulder before they left, and, for a moment, she thought she heard somebody else lingering nearby her, but when she looked up, she saw only Hermione quickly retreating to the door.

"Potter," Moody beckoned from the front of the room. Lily stuffed her hands into her pockets and stood up slowly from her seat., grumbling to herself all the while.

"What?" she said, perhaps a bit too rudely, when she finally reached the other man.

"Just a quick warning," Moody said, looking at her with his magic eye while his normal one glanced over the stack of turned in homework. Lily shuffled her feet, hoping he wouldn't notice that hers was conspicuously absent. "Stay away from the Beauxbatons Potions professor."

"Belby?" Lily said, brow furrowing.

"That's the one," Moody confirmed. "I don't trust her. Can't say why, confidential information."

"Is this because she sold my Polyjuice Potion?" Lily asked. She enjoyed how Moody's real eye snapped up in surprise.

"How did you know that?" he said, laying down the papers and perching his hands across his chest. Lily supposed he was trying to remain cool and composed. She thought it just looked ridiculous, personally, even if she was now actively mimicking the posture.

"I don't think it really-"

"Everything matters, Potter," Moody said, magic eye moving to the classroom door far behind her. "How did you know?"

"Because I went to get some and she told me," Lily lied.

"There's such a thing as too much eye contact, Potter," Moody said after a long, studious pause. "You're lying. How did you know?"

"I just told you," Lily said casually. "I was a little upset that she didn't think to give me any of the money, but-"

"Who did she sell it to?" Moody asked.

"Dunno," Lily said perhaps a bit too quickly. "Didn't think to ask."

"You looked away that time, Potter," Moody said with a smirk.

"Well- you said I was staring too much!"

"There's a fine balance," Moody said. "Most people get too uncomfortable to maintain eye contact even if they are telling the truth. Forcing it too long just tells me you're trying too hard to be convincing, and if you're trying to convince me, then you're likely not telling the truth. Old Auror trick. Not always reliable, but good enough to break most suspects' facades."

"Right," Lily said, backing up a step. "Well, I need to get to-"

"You don't have a class after this, Potter."

"Supper, then. I'm starving."

"Not until you tell me how and what you know."

"Fine," Lily said. "I was in the room with you when you were interrogating her. Lucius Malfoy bought the Polyjuice, and he asked for it specifically. Happy?"

"Very," Moody said, one hand raising to stroke his chin. "How didn't I see you?"

"No idea," Lily said with a shrug. "I was under my Cloak, if that helps any."

"Your Cloak? I've seen you under that before. You couldn't have been- ah, I see."

"See what?"

"Think it through, Potter," Moody said. "Let's test that mind of yours, see if it's as sharp as McGonagall believes it is."

"Pardon?" Lily said, staring at the man incredulously.

"Think it through," Moody said, tapping the stack of papers in front of him. "If you figure it out, I'll even give you full marks for skipping out on your homework."

"Err- you noticed?"

"You have a very obvious name. It's hard not to notice when it's missing. Go on, Potter, give it a shot. Why couldn't I see under your Cloak when I could before?"

"Err- well, I- I don't really know."

"Ask some questions," Moody said, leaning back in his seat. "Investigate me. Go on."

"Err- I- why could you before?"

"Be more specific."

"Err- how does your eye see everything, anyway?"

"Now that, I don't rightly know," Moody said.

"Err- Pardon?"

"I can focus it," Moody said, the eye swiveling and whirring to demonstrate, "but that's because I've learned how to. I don't know how it does it, because I'm not the one that made it."

"Err- then who was?"

"Dumbledore," Moody said matter-of-factly. Lily could feel him silently urging her to continue when she was just hoping to slip out of here.

"Err- he really didn't say how he did it?"

"Dumbledore tends to keep secrets," Moody said. "I'm sure you've noticed."

"But- err- You're his friend, aren't you?"

"You're straying off the path, Potter," Moody said. "Focus. Target your questioning."

Lily blinked slowly and shuffled her feet again, wishing she was anywhere else right now.

"Focus," Moody said again.

Lily clenched her jaw.

"I'm not an auror," she snapped.

"No," Moody said, "but it pays to think like one, at times. Think, Potter. What changed between when I saw through your Cloak the first time to when I couldn't?"

"I don't know!" Lily said. "Blimey, how am I supposed to-"

"Think it through," Moody said. "Something changed. I saw you before second year began. I can't see you now in fourth year. What changed?"

Lily's right foot started tapping on the floor of its own volition, while her teeth started chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"I don't know," she said.

"List out the events. What happened in second in third year?"

"Second year was the Chamber," Lily said. "Third year was lousy. I don't like thinking about it."

"Fine," Moody said, waving her last comment off. "Focus on second, then, since I was actually there."

Lily continued worrying at her cheek, wishing Moody would just finish the thing for her so she could go. He just kept staring at her patiently, instead, waiting for her to come to her own conclusion. She just felt so stupid, like he was punishing her over something that she wasn't even responsible for her. How was she supposed to know how Moody couldn't see through the thing anymore? She was more focused on her own issues that year. The only times she even interacted with Moody were after the Dueling Club and then again when she needed him to-

Oh.

"Your eye broke," she said, the back of her neck and her cheeks burning hot. "When you were looking for Hermione and saw the Basilisk instead."

"Excellent," Moody said, tapping his magical eye. "But, as you can see, it's back to normal."

"Dumbledore fixed it," Lily said quickly. "He must have done."

"Excellent," Moody said, leaning forward, "but, if I could see through your Cloak before, and I can't now, why did Dumbledore make it differently?"

"Because he had to," Lily said, feeling like she was on a roll. "He must have done, because otherwise he would have made it the same, wouldn't he?"

"Yes," Moody said, smiling in a sort-of friendly manner. "And now we're both at an impasse. No, I don't know why he would have to, either."
"I do!" Lily said quickly, her eagerness showing in her smile. "Professor, when did he make your eye the first time?"

"After you were born," Moody said, thinking for a pause. "Lost it in one of my final raids as an auror. Bagnold wouldn't let me continue after that, but when Dumbledore gifted it to me, I was at least allowed to finish out the war."

"That's it, then," Lily said, smacking her hands together triumphantly. "Professor, Dumbledore had my dad's Cloak then, my dad let him borrow it. He had the Cloak when he made it the first time around, but he didn't the second time, because I had it."

"Interesting," Moody said, leaning back in his chair satisfactorily. "Very interesting. There's just one problem, though I don't think anybody but Dumbledore would be able to answer it?"

"What's that?" Lily said, her smile deflating just a bit.

"I can see through other Cloaks, still, no problem," Moody said. "But why can't I see through yours?"

Lily was still stewing over the question all night, even when she was supposed to be enjoying herself when having after-dinner drinks with Ron and Neville. That, and the matter of avoiding Professor Belby, which, admittedly, was the more pressing matter. The French Potions Connoisseur approached her early the next day, before their Transfiguration sermon, and tried to hold her back for a private chat. Thankfully, she had the sense to tell Ron and Neville what Moody had said, and they were more than happy to drag her off with a 'If you're late again, McGonagall will give you a detention,' even though they didn't have McGonagall that week.

Unfortunately, they were just as unable to explain either mystery as Lily was.

"Maybe she's actually a werewolf," Neville suggested. "Maybe that's why her husband was so interested, and maybe that's why she killed him. She probably likes being one."

"That's stupid," Lily said, taking a sip of her stout. "Nobody likes being a werewolf. It's awful. Besides, Beauxbatons would never hire one. Maxime is decidedly not Dumbledore."

"Maybe she's a shapeshifter, then," Ron suggested mockingly. "Or maybe she's a vampire out to drink your Metamorphmagus blood."

"I hear drinking it is enough to give one unnatural powers," Neville said, nodding along.

"Oh, shut up," Lily said, downing the rest of her drink.

They were still discussing it the next morning, through breakfast and through their walk down to the Potions classroom, up until a third year boy bumped into her and tried to slip an object into her robe pocket.

"Honestly," Lily said, tossing the yellow fruit back at the head of the boy. "I'm so sick of this whole thing."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Ron said, still smiling as the boy rubbed his forehead.

"Really, Ron," Lily said again, picking up her pace as they entered the dungeon. "You have no idea what it's been like. It's just- Colin, if you come any closer with that banana, I'll kill you."

The mousy third year boy froze, unpeeled fruit halfway to his mouth, pulling himself as close to the wall as he could as Lily and Ron passed by him.

"People have got to be able to eat their breakfast without you screaming at them, Lily," Ron said, tossing the apple he'd been carrying to Colin as a sort of apology.

"I wasn't screaming. I'm warning."

"I don't think most people see the difference," Ron said, sighing as they entered Slughorn's classroom.

Lily sat at the back row of desks and then immediately buried her head into her arms, satchel and book propped next to her to hide her from prying eyes.

"I hate this," she grumbled into the cold surface.

"You'll be alright," Ron said, patting her on the back. "They'll all get bored of it eventually." For a moment, Lily thought he might sit next to her. Instead, he sat at the table next door with Neville, leaving her pouting and mopey. She buried her head back in her arms when a certain somebody sat next to her.

"Can't you just fuck off for five minutes?" she asked.

"Is that any way to treat an ex?" Clara said in a harsh little whisper.

"I don't recall us being a thing."

"Well, I recall a certain someone being eager to stick her tongue down-"

"Oh, piss off," Lily said, groaning into her elbow. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Clara said innocently. "Just wanted to catch up."

Lily highly doubted that, and she wasn't at all looking forward to whatever it was the other girl had planned. At the very least, Slughorn kept them all too busy brewing their latest poisons and antidotes for anybody to do or say a single thing. Despite it only being the end of January, in Potions, at least, Slughorn already had them revising.

"Exams always sneak up faster than you expect them to," he said with a congenial chuckle. "Best to find out now if you're lacking in any particular skills before we move on, so we can correct it before it's too late."

Lily, for one, couldn't wait until next year; she was getting absolutely sick of poisons and antidotes both. She needed some more variety in her life, although decidedly not the kind she was getting in her personal drama. The book and Slughorn both claimed that every antidote had to be brewed differently, depending on the type of poison, but Lily thought it sure felt like a load of rubbish. The first step was always to break down the poison itself, and while the ingredients for the curatives differed, sure, the brewing processes were always monotonous and dull without a single inch for experimentation, lest you just make a poison worse instead of curing it. She couldn't wait to be done with it all.

She also couldn't wait to be away from Clara's presence. She finished first, and well ahead of the rest of the class (as always), and then tried to settle into a bored rhythm of drumming her fingers on the table while she waited for class to end.

"Could you stop that?" Clara snapped, her hair frizzing up from the fumes of her cauldron.

Lily looked at the other girl and started tapping faster and louder.

"Merlin, you're insufferable," Clara said. "It's no wonder you're on the outs with that annoying little freak you call a girlfriend."

"What are you talking about?" Lily asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Everybody is talking about it," Clara said, rolling her eyes. "You've gone through, what, seven girls since you came out?"

"I didn't come out," Lily said dangerously. "I was outed."

"Such a large difference," Clara said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe if you weren't too busy trying to spread your legs to everybody with a pulse, you'd actually be able to keep one. Word of advice, Potter; nobody wants to be with a whore."

"No wonder you're single, then," Lily said.

Clara's faced turned dark, her lips pursed in a thin line, her hands halting all motion on the spoon she'd been stirring with.

"I've heard the chatter, Potter," Clara said, leaning forward and smirking. "That you've been exchanging a few services for coin."

"I suppose you would have," Lily said coldly, "considering that you started it after I turned you down."

Clara shrugged. "Every rumour has an ounce of truth to it."

"I suppose you've been the one accepting the coin, then, because I sure as hell haven't."

Lily expected another terrible thing to come out of Clara's mouth, but instead the girl fell into silence and began stirring her concoction once more. Lily went back to drumming her fingers on the table and staring up at Slughorn, wondering when he'd give them all permission to begin cleaning up so she could leave. Her antidote was still in her cauldron, simmering over a low heat to maintain consistency. A few more minutes and she could take it off completely and start bottling it into vials. Then she'd have nothing left to do but wait.

"I'm trying to offer you a chance here, Potter," Clara said, breaking the silence. "I've had a change of heart, seeing you walk around so miserably lately. Say you'll go out with me, and all this rubbish stops."

"Are you serious?" Lily said, narrowing her eyes at the other girl.

"It's not like anybody else wants you," Clara said, shrugging. "I just feel sorry for you, at this point."

Clara looked at Lily, as if expecting her to accept immediately, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. Lily stared Clara directly in the eye as she stood up from her seat, a few nearby eyes looking over at her curiously. Lily smiled at Clara, and Clara smiled back. She put her thick-gloved hand firmly on the side of the other girl's boiling cauldron.

And then she shoved it clear off the table.

"Oops," she said, sitting back down, smiling smugly at both the look on Clara's face as well as the resulting frantic struggle of students trying to get out of the way of the steaming liquid making it's way across the floor. She could hear Ron snickering from the nearby table, and that was enough affirmation for her.

"No need to panic!" Slughorn called out, moving faster than his girth would suggest as he moved to vanish the spilled potion. Another quick flick, and Clara's potion was levitated back onto the burner right in front of her. "Miss Lavigne, I'm afraid you don't have the time to start over. This is why I always stress to follow the proper safety precautions. Why, at this temperature, you could have-"

"I didn't do anything," Clara said, still glaring at the girl responsible. "Potter pushed it over."

"She did?" Slughorn said, blinking slowly and looking between the two girls.

"She did, Professor," Malfoy said from four tables away, the Durmstrang student next to him visibly sighing and turning back to his own potion. "I saw her do it myself. Just pushed it right over."

"Now, now," Slughorn said, wiping at his forehead with a cloth. "I'm sure she meant no harm in it. An accident, could have happened to-"

"It wasn't an accident," Lily said, holding her chin up proudly. "I pushed it off because Clara was being a tremendous prick."

The classroom went completely silent, aside from Ron's continued suppressed chortles.

"You- you did it on purpose?" Slughorn stammered, wiping at his forehead again.

"Yes," Lily said firmly, still staring the girl directly in the eye.

"I'm afraid I'll have to give you a detention," Slughorn said, still looking between the two girls.

"I took that into account," Lily said, smirking. See, Maraktis? I can think things through. Any other professor would have given her several. Merlin, Snape would have had her suspended again.

"Well- err-" Slughorn said, taking a few steps back. "I'll leave you to it, then. Back to work, class! Twenty minutes left!"

"You'll pay for that," Clara said, her face a furious red.

"How so?" Lily said nonchalantly. Secretly, she was hoping Clara would dare to try and push her own cauldron over. She was raring to show her exactly what the consequences would be. She was dying to try out that new spell.

"One word from me," Clara said, leaning in and dropping her voice, "and you'll never get back into Beauxbatons. My dad won't let you."

"Finally talking to daddy, then?" Lily said, raising an eyebrow. "Suits me well enough, anyway. Means I won't have to go around looking at your ugly mug anymore."

Clara's eyes flickered over to Lily's cauldron, and, for a moment, Lily thought she was actually going to go for it. Instead, she sank back into her own seat, stared at anywhere except for Lily, and didn't say another word for the remainder of class time.

Lily's perfect scenario, really.

After Potions, Lily stopped by the kitchens with Ron and Neville to nick a sandwich or two (or three) before stomping down to Herbology, feeling immensely pleased about how her day was going. There, and with the supervision of the Durmstrang professor, they planted the seeds of Skeletal Savarias. In two weeks' time, the trees would be up to Lily's knees, at which point they could harvest the knucklebones to make Bone Mush Fertilizer for their next set of plants. Those, at least, Lily felt interested in; the seeds were tiny, dancing skeletons, harvested from the skulls of the full-grown plants. Of course, you had to bury them six feet under, and for some inane reason, the Durmstrang professor refused to let them dig via magic.

She and Ron working in tandem, they only managed to dig two feet before they were too exhausted to continue. The ground might have been warmed unnaturally, but it was still hard. Wiping her sweat from her forehead, and glancing around at the other struggling students to make sure nobody was watching, she hid her wand under her sleeve and vanished their way deeper into the soil. She might not have bothered, but this was one plant she really wanted to see the matured version of.

Afterwards, Lily was forced to say farewell to Ron outside the Arithmancy classroom as he split off to attend Divination. She sat at the back again, well away from where a certainly formerly bushy-haired girl was sitting, right in the front row. Professor Burbage was teaching that week, and she set them through another rigorous set of drills and magical arithmetic. As soon as the two hours were up, Lily ran straight up to the top floor, where she found Neville and Ron waiting for her in front of the Secret Chamber's entrance.

"Pull!" Lily shouted, wand raised in front of her.

Neville tossed the vase high up into the air, and Lily traced its path through the air with her instrument of destruction. When it was just five feet up from the ground, she hit it with a Disintegration Curse, and instead of fancy ceramic, only ash hit the ground.

Ron whistled low from where he was sitting atop a chest of drawers, his mostly full bottle of stout held between the hands resting on his lap.

"That's a dangerous one, isn't it?" he said, raising the bottle halfway up to his lips, changing his mind, and setting it back down. "Sure you should be practicing something like that?"

"Shut up," Lily said, raising her wand again. "Pull."

"What should I use?" Neville said, inspecting the nearest stack of items.

"Anything, mate," Ron said, grimacing after finally taking another sip. "There's a million pounds of rubbish in here. Just pick something. Merlin, Lily, how do you drink this stuff?"

"Like this," Lily said, taking a long, deep drink from her own bottle.

She lowered her wand and looked around at the towering skyscrapers of rubbish around them. The words to get in were 'I need a place to hide these stouts.' To be honest, Lily expected to find some sort of pub, or maybe the inside of a very large fridge. What they received instead were endless mountains of objects, as far as the eye could see, extending up towards the ceiling above. The ceiling, as a matter of fact, appeared to be taller than Hogwarts itself in some places. At first, Lily thought a lot of people must have been hiding rubbish in here. When Neville found his old Remembrall sitting atop a shelf of small clay figures, she realized this place wasn't just for hiding stuff; any objects lost inside Hogwarts ended up here too.

That meant most of these objects would never see their owner return to fetch them, and she was taking full advantage of it.

"Just pick something, Neville," she said impatiently, raising the glass bottle of her stout to her lips and taking another long drink. They had a full two dozen of these things to get through, courtesy of Charlie Weasley, and she was determined to do just that. "We haven't got all day."

"What about this?" Neville said, attempting to lift a heavy marble bust off a chest of drawers. Lily sighed and took another drink when Neville couldn't lift it, even with his grunts of effort.

"Just leave it, Nev," Ron said, drinking from his own bottle with a regretful expression. "You'll never lift that thing."

"What about the little crown?" Lily asked, pointing with the mouth of her bottle. "The silver thing sitting on the head. We could try that."

"You really want to break that thing?" Ron asked as Neville lifted it off the statue's head. "Blimey, Lily, come on, that thing would sell for at least a hundred Galleons."

"Take it, then," Lily said, drinking again from her stout and looking around at the piles around them. "Should be able to get you a better broom with it. Just don't tell your mother."

"Yeah, I figured that much out on my own, thanks," Ron said, tucking the silver crown inside of his bag and giving her a subdued look. He was still smarting over his last attempt at ordering a new broom; he had the bright idea of telling his mum what he was doing, and she quite insisted he deposit the money into his vault where he couldn't touch it without his parents' express permission, where his Order of Merlin earnings were still sitting in heaps of little golden piles.

"Tell you what," Lily said, downing the rest of her stout and tossing the bottle high into the air. "If it's not enough, I'll cover the rest, and we'll get you a Nimbus 2003." Right before the bottle could crest over a mountain of refuse and disappear to the other side, Lily shot a Disintegration Curse at it, spreading ash and tiny slivers of glass over the top of a large mattress.

"You don't need to do that," Ron said, taking a short sip of his drink. He didn't even grimace, this time. Lily was proud of the guy.

"I want to," Lily said, looking around for something else to break. "What's the point of having all this money if I can't buy my friends nice stuff? Sides, I said I'd cover the rest. You're still paying for most of it."

"The 2003 is a lot of money," Ron said, running a finger over the bottle's rim.

"It's 150 Galleons," Lily said, rolling her eyes and pulling a small iron cauldron off the nearest stack. "Your fancy new crown will cover most of it." Honestly, she almost wanted to buy it herself, but there was no way she'd get away with wearing that around the castle. "Think you can throw this, Nev?"

He could, but not very high. Lily didn't mind, though; she turned it into a clay pot when it clattered uselessly against the ground. Then, she piled a dozen robes inside of it and turned those into soil.

"There," she said, standing up fully and smacking her hands together to shake off any loose dirt. She felt awful proud of herself as she wiped off her sweaty forehead.

"Good job," Ron said lazily, from where he was sitting on a discarded couch and reading a Muggle comic book. "At that rate, you might pass second year's transfiguration exam."

"We were not doing stuff like this in second year, Ron."

"Maybe you weren't. Muggles seem awfully fond of killing each other, don't they?"

"You say that as if our stuff is any different," Neville said, sitting down on a stack of cushions and leaning deep into it. "At least with theirs you can't see all the guts flying around."

"I know," Ron said, flipping the page with a disappointed sigh.

"What do you think, Neville?" Lily asked, gesturing to her nice pot.

"Transfigured soil doesn't have much nutritional value," Neville said with a frown, staring at the whole thing in disapproval. "Don't think we'll be able to grow much."

"I- that's not the point!" Lily said, stamping her foot. "Look! I just turned a cauldron and robes into a pot and dirt!"

"You're a Triwizard Champion, Lily," Ron said, flipping another page. "You're supposed to be able to do a whole lot more than that."

"Oh, forget it," Lily said, downing the rest of her most recent bottle and then tossing it on top of the soil. "I'm leaving."

"Oh, come off it," Ron said, setting his book down. "We're just having a bit of fun."

"Well, I'm not," Lily said, grabbing her robe from the couch's arm and throwing it back over her arms. "And I've had quite enough of people having fun at my expense, thank you very much."

"Lily!"

Lily shot a rude gesture behind her and walked as briskly as she could towards the exit (it was hard to keep up speed in here when the paths were all so cluttered and narrow).

"I will not wait much longer, Lucius."

"Master-"

"Do not attempt to persuade me." Her small hand trailed over Nagini's scales, but she only had eyes for the prostrated, cloaked form kneeling in front of her.

"Crouch requires time, Master," Lucius said. "His position is tenuous as it is. If we press it any further, his cover will be blown."

"Then allow it to be," she said. "We can still lean on Bagman, should he fail, but with Crouch, we may have the opportunity to act sooner. I will not wait any more than is necessary."

"Master-"

"Lily, you need to get up."

"Tell him to execute it, Lucius. That is my final word on the matter."

"I- Yes, of course, Master. It will be done. Crouch will-"

"Lily!"

Lily's eyes snapped open, Hermione's hand leaving her shoulder from where she was shaking her. Before Lily could push the girl's hand away, Hermione was already moving over towards her desk. That's all she did, lately; sit at the desk and work. Lily rubbed her eyes, and then spotted her precious little Christmas gift laying in the corner of the room, propped up against the wall. Not only could Hermione not be bothered to apologize, it seemed she also couldn't be bothered to hang it up.

Lily rolled over and pulled her blanket back up to her chin. Her head was pounding, and she wasn't sure if it was the previous night's drinks or that she couldn't even fall asleep until the sun was already rising.

"It's already lunch time," Hermione said authoritatively. "You've slept long enough."

"No," Lily groaned. Her mouth felt awfully thick.

"You have your first session with the Muggleborns today, Lily. You can't leave Cedric by himself."

Lily groaned and rolled back over, this time staring up at the ceiling. Her mind was racing, trying desperately to remember whatever it was she'd been dreaming about. She felt like it was important. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, on the verge of something, but another snappish reminder from Hermione finally got her out of bed to ready herself. Hermione was gone from the room when she emerged from the bathroom.

Lily was bleary-eyed and drowsy when she arrived in the Great Hall. Hermione was in the middle of giving some dramatic speech that the younger students clearly weren't interested in, while Cedric stood at her side awkwardly. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall were observing from the dais, perhaps waiting to see if anything would go wrong, and the long tables were cleared from the room entirely. Lily stayed near the entrance, rubbing at her eyes and hoping to wake up before she'd be needed.

Her luck didn't last long; just a few seconds after she entered, Hermione was wrapping up her speech and turning to introduce the two S.P.E.W. instructors who were supposed to be standing behind her. She seemed surprised and then furious to find that Lily wasn't anywhere near there. Lily waved from where she was standing, yawned, and then began pushing through the crowd of small children.

"And this is Hazel Potter," Hermione said, gesturing to her sleepy roommate and attempting to keep a tight smile on her face. "First years, you'll be with her. Don't worry; she's really nice when you get used to her."

Lily didn't think her tired grimace helped sell what Hermione was saying, and the first years didn't, either, if their nervous expressions were any indication.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked in a hiss, pulling Lily by the arm fully to the side while the First Years listened to Cedric speak encouraging words.

"Teaching?" Lily said, covering her next yawn with a hand.

"You look terrible," Hermione said, looking Lily fully over.

She felt terrible, as a matter of fact, but she was sure admitting that would do no favours for her. Hermione looked torn between sending her back to the dorm for rest and continuing to lecture and scold her.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Lily said perhaps a bit too harshly.

"Listen," Hermione said, pulling her further away again and dropping her voice. "If you aren't up to this, maybe you should head back to bed. I really need- S.P.E.W. really needs this to go well. McGonagall is here to determine whether or not we're allowed to continue past session one, and if you can't-"

"Relax," Lily said, covering another yawn and clapping her other hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I've got this."

"Lily-"

"I'm just a bit sleepy, is all."

"I don't know how," Hermione said, crossing her arms and scoffing. "All you've done since you got back is lay around."

That was a bit unfair; she'd also spent a decent amount of time with Ron and Neville, but Lily was sure telling Hermione they'd been breaking things and drinking stouts wouldn't go over very well. Besides, it was true enough for the rest of her time. She was pretty sure she hadn't done a single question of her quickly mounting homework, let alone read a single line from any of her notes or books, since her suspension began.

"I can handle it," Lily said, shoving past Hermione perhaps a bit too roughly.

"You better," Hermione called after her.

Lily took a deep breath, stood up straight, and tried to walk with a bit of confidence in her step. She could feel McGonagall's eyes following her, but she didn't care what anybody else thought at the moment; she was doing this for her sake, not anybody else's. She needed to do something to feel better than she had been lately.

"First years!" she said, her voice carrying through the large room. "Over here, please!"

She raised one hand in the air and then repeated herself, moving towards one of the far corners of the room; Cedric had double duty on two years, since he was the older student, and Lily wanted to leave him with plenty of room. Thankfully, since they were only starting with the Muggleborn students, and since those were still far rarer than those born in the wizarding world, she only had ten students in her own group. She was not looking forward to if/when they brought in the rest of the year (although, strangely enough, she also was).

"Right," Lily said, clapping her hands together and smiling brightly at them all when the children finally crowded in around her (some of them shuffling their feet nervously, two girls near the back giggling and not paying attention). "So, first off, my name is-"
"Hazel Potter," one of the giggling girls interrupted. "We know. Everybody does."

Charming, Lily thought, trying not to let her smile falter.

"I wouldn't assume so," Lily said. "After all, how many of you heard my name before you arrived here at Hogwarts?"

Not a single person raised their hand, and Lily took that as her cue to continue.

"Let's get this out of the way," she said, making her voice stern. "If there's one thing I can assure you of, it's that most of the rubbish you'll hear about me or have heard about me is just that- rubbish. I can hardly roll out of bed in the morning without the papers claiming I'm out to destroy the fabric of society."

"You're not, then?" a boy said, blushing furiously right after.

"Course not," Lily said, waving it off. "Honestly, how am I supposed to be planning to destroy anything when I can't even find a clean pair of socks?"

A few kids laughed nervously at that, and Lily pressed on before anybody could bring up anything else.

"What I'm getting at," she said, "is that-"

"You don't really fancy girls, do you?" the second giggling girl said, giggles entirely absent.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she said, holding her head high. "But that's got nothing to do with-"

"Why?" the girl said.

"Pardon?" Lily said, blinking slowly.

"Why?" the girl repeated. Lily frowned at her. She seemed awfully familiar, looking almost exactly like a certain blonde girl a year ahead of her that made fun of her the last year.

"Err-" Lily stammered, feeling frazzled, "I don't- that doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"It's just a bit freaky, don't you think?" the first girl said. "I mean, mum says-"

"What your mum says doesn't matter here," Lily said. "And who I happen to fancy doesn't, either. I'm here to teach you magic."

"But everybody's saying you can't even do a pin needle to matchstick!" a different boy said.

"Rubbish," Lily said, waving it off. "I can do a whole lot more than that. And who told you that, anyway?"

"I dunno," the boy said, flushing bright. "It's just- everybody says it."

"Look," Lily said, drawing her wand from her sleeve in a flourish. "I just told you it's all rubbish, didn't I? Why don't we just-"

"You said most of it is rubbish," the first girl said, really starting to make Lily hate her and this entire situation.

"Can we-"

"Lavender Brown says you can't even turn a snuffbox into a mouse without it dying in pain," a Gryffindor girl said.

"First of all," Lily said, face now thoroughly burning, "I can do it perfectly fine, thank you. Second of all-"

Lily was interrupted by all of her first years launching into a barrage of questions and accusations. Lily kept trying to raise her voice, to be heard above them all, but she was drowned out each time. She could feel a burning anger welling up inside her, and her wand hand was tapping against her thigh to try and calm herself down. It wasn't working, and she was on the verge of shouting at all of them to shut up, or even just legging it back to her dorm to hide in shame, when she looked up and saw McGonagall watching her curiously, waiting to see what she'd do.

Lily took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was all rubbish. She could prove it.

Lily opened her eyes and took one step forward, pushing her way through the crowd of still chattering children. She raised her wand slowly and steadily, tracing an arc through the air with the tip, and turning the air it touched into a thin ice. With a sharp movement upwards, and a push of power, she moved it above, morphing more air into a dense ball of frozen water. Another deep breath, and moving her wand downwards, she floated the ball and expanded it until it was nearly the same size as she was, bottom resting gently on the ground.

Then, closing her eyes and picturing the image clearly in her mind, she gave the mound a single tap with her wand.

The ice broke and twisted and shaped, the shavings falling off and disappearing or melting, until only a frozen statue remained. The image of herself, Firebolt clutched in one hand, a Golden Snitch in the other, both hands raised high above her head, her face beaming and roaring in a triumphant cheer, stood before her. Lily tapped it again, and the ice turned swiftly into stone, preserving the image in a more permanent method.

"This," Lily said, turning to her now silent and awed First Years, "is what I'm here for. I'm not here to address any rumours. I'm just here to teach- to help you learn to do what I can do. I came from a Muggle home- same as all of you- and I was scared, and small, and had a hard time doing even the most basic of Transfigurations. But, now-"

Lily turned around again, tapping her stone self on the nose with her wand. Green spread from where she touched it, as the statue changed into a great hedge of foliage.

"I can do so much more," she said, tapping her nose again. The leaves turned to liquid water, held in shape by nothing more than magic. She tapped it again, before anybody could notice that her toes were still plants, turning the clearness into clay, again, into a bunch of flowers, and a last time, into a glorious, painted marble, almost lifelike in its colours matching her own. Her Quidditch robes were solid, but she could almost imagine them billowing in the wind.

"I'm here to help you do the same," Lily said, turning back to her students again. "S.P.E.W. is here to help you be the best you that can possibly be."

I told you I could manage it, Lily thought, looking smugly over at Hermione as the First Years crowded in around her, now chatting excitedly.