Disclaimer: I don't even own my car. . .

AN: I'm a day late, and I don't have excuses for it. I didn't want to finish the chapter yesterday, so I didn't. Simple. Hope you enjoy this chapter that turned out longer than I expected it to be. There's a lot going on here in terms of introducing stuff and reminding of other things. Next chapter so far appears to be shorter. I have a draft of two pages only. Don't know how much I can stretch it. Maybe five pages, I don't know yet.

Thanks for reading, leave a comment, and have a nice day.

Chapter 21: Boys, boys and more boys

I sat with Peter on a stand of the Quidditch pitch. I had a text book opened in front of my face, but that wasn't enough indication for Peter to stop talking. There was no stopping his chatter when it came to James Potter playing Quidditch.

He spoke of every dash, spin and dive that the Gryffindor Captain did on his broom. Brimming with details and information I had not asked for, Peter droned on and on, ignoring that fact that I wasn't paying much attention to him. I couldn't keep his words out of my head though, resulting in a jumble of thoughts that were giving me a headache similar to the one I got with blood knowledge.I was reading my book and I was listening to Peter, all the while a clutter of thoughts and lines went crazy inside my head. "...invented the Dionysus Dive, but Prongs perfected it.", "…something like a graceful ape in appearance…", "Look, look Wilfred did the dive! James spent five practices teaching him that last year."

I'll admit that when January ended I was excited for the news of the starting of the Quidditch season. Last term, I had enjoyed learning of the game and going to the matches. Though, not as into it as many of my classmates, it was something I was looking forward to be a rest from schoolwork.

Lily wasn't too eager for the season. Although she did like going to the games more than I did, it was a double blade for her. Quidditch for her, as a Gryffindor, meant having to deal with 'Potter's pompous arse' as she put it. I hadn't experienced it yet, but he apparently got insufferable in their common room, as well as every other proud Gryffindor.

My thought was that she was particular ticked off this time, because the news of the starting of the season had been announced on her birthday, and many of her friends forgot about it. Obviously, I didn't forget about the special day. It was her seventeenth birthday, after all. I got her an engraved mole-skin journal; to keep with the theme of giving her useful gifts. It was the only owl-order purchase I could buy. Therefore, my pockets were emptied. I used the last galleons the Ministry of Magic had provided for me. It didn't really matter; I was in no need of school materials or any other personal items, and the look on Lily's face when I gave it to it was well worth it. I was angry that her other friends forgot, but she was angrier, as she told me, that some only remembered because of James. He showered her with gifts when she came down to their common room, making a humongous scene. She didn't give me any details, having me suppose that she didn't want me to know, so I didn't pry or ask Peter for the information.

Dinner was soon to start, and though all that my tummy wanted to do was start heading for the Great Hall, I remained seated. It had been a nice day, no violent gust of winds or freezing rains, hell the sun had even come out for a few hours. I spent most of my free time between classes with Lily and Mary, until it came time for them to meet with their boyfriends, and I to head for the Library. On my way there, Peter found me somehow, and dragged me outside.

He made me climb the strands in the Quidditch pitch, settling us at the side where the Gryffindors sat during the games. Potter and his team were in the middle of it, sitting on their brooms as they discussed a fevered matter. At some point they agreed on something, and set out at high speeds to fill their positions. There was still enough light to follow the practice perfectly and whatnot, but I had no interest in that. Peter claimed he just wanted someone to sit with him while he watched, and that I could do whatever I wanted. He obviously meant he didn't mind if I studied, and I went for it, but I hadn't even found the right page to read when he started talking about moves and special plays.

"Where's Lupin?" I asked when Peter's chitchat had gotten the best of me and I knew I couldn't get more reading done. Closing the book, I left it to sit on my lap. I pressed my hair back to my bun, using the movement to stretch.

"Prefect duties." His eyes never lowered as he followed the movement of brooms.

Sometimes I wondered what Prefect duties entailed. I hadn't asked Lily yet, but surely it was more than patrolling the hallways, and giving detentions. "And Black?"

That caused him turn to look at me. He twisted his face in a confused frown, staring at me as if he had just discovered I was a new kind of oddity. That or he discovered I wasn't paying attention to his words from earlier. Either way, he raised his hand, pointing into the pitch. "He's up there."

Following his finger, I searched the Gryffindor team, and sure enough I saw the dark mane of hair and the name on the back of the red and gold team jumper. "Oh. I forgot he played." As I spoke, I watched as he deflected a bludger a teammate had led to him, hitting it with a massive force. Brooms zoomed around then, in an intricate play I could barely follow.

"How can you? He's the best Beater the team has had in decades. James is trying to make him stay."

"Why would he leave?"

"He's a stand-in." Peter squeaked. I made a face, not really getting what he meant and I guess he understood that it entailed for he continue. "Narius Patel was our original Beater and a good one too. Back in November his mum pulled him out of school. The first Gryffindor game was a week away so James didn't have time for trails. Since Sirius already knew the plays, he volunteered."

I nodded taking in what he said with mild interest. "But why did the other kid's mother take him out of school?"

Peter eyes darted around as if cheeking for spying ears. He neared me as if he wanted to speak in my ear. I didn't let him get that close, though. "His grandparents got attacked. The house was destroyed and the old couple were found inside, dead. The Mark was above it all."

"Mark? What mark?"

"The Dark Mark. V-voldermort's" He squealed when he said the strange name, showing a mixture of excited adrenaline filled fear when he said it.

The pit of my stomach began to hurt and I ignored Peter's following rambles of James' Quidditch teaching abilities. I had read of the Dark Lord in the Daily Prophet, little mentions in back pages that seemed to act in a defiant bold attitude. And I head of him in my House. The title was passed around the common room, amid all sorts of conversations. Toast, celebrations and planning among the Slytherins included the mention of the dark wizard which they held in grandeur.

My head was still swirling in dark confused waters when I head James Potter talking.

"Nolan." His voice was crystal clear and much closer than I would have thought. Immediately after my surname was said, Peter elbowed me. I jumped at it, turning to my friend and glaring at him. Sure, I had not thought that it was me who was getting spoken to, but I would think there was no need to be so rude. I massaged my bruised side, and looked up.

Sitting in his broom with the comfort and familiarity years of practice lead to, James hovered in the air in front of us, staring intently at me, in that way that made him completely different from his normal snobbish side. "Potter?"

"What are you doing here?" There was accusation in his tone of voice, and I didn't get why.

"I invited her." Peter piped in just as I had opened my mouth to speak. Potter's eyes darted to his Marauder friend, but they didn't linger. There was a slight glare in his eyes as he did so, however it didn't last. Though his question was answered, James still looked at me waiting for what I could only assume was my answer.

I shrugged at him, Peter was saying the truth.

"You aren't here to spy on the team?" The accusation tone never left, and it was more than enough to get a rise out of me. When I say rise, I don't meant it in the sense of fighting for my honor. I mean it in a gets me annoyed kind of way. Assuming my presence in the pitch was of a negative sense was just plain rude. They were both rude idiots. I had been minding my own business when Peter appeared out of nowhere, and as far as I thought, me being there kept with the Marauders stupid plan of keeping tabs on me. Potter's consistency was uneven. One moment he's a responsible person, the other he's a pretentious prat and now he's insultingly insufferable. Now I understood why Lily said he was a pompous arse when it came to Quidditch. His zealous nature was indication enough.

Peter made a face as he hurried to stutter an answer for me. "No of cou-"

"Yes." Both pairs of eyes landed on me, but I simply looked at James. I made a point of glaring, ever ticked off by his insinuations of my character.

"You are?" He raised an eyebrow, and moved on his broom. For a moment I thought he was going to do his trademark rumpling of his hair, but he didn't. He arched his back as he sat, a hand resting on his hip and the other on his tight. I wanted to be amazed at his prowess on the broom, yet that would mean admitting that he was good, and that in turn meant letting go of my annoyed feelings. Hell there was no letting them go when Peter spoke again for me. He was not helping my case. He was making it worst.

"She's not."

"I am."

James eyes went to Peter and then returned to me. As I simmered in my emotions, trying hard to maintain them out of my face, the Quidditch Captain regarded me. I was intently in his eyes for longer than I would have liked. Behind him, the team continued with their practice, expertly conditioned to follow their routine without their leader needing to be there to enforce them. At one point, a smile began to form in Potter's face. "Are you saying yes just because Peter is talking for you?"

"No." Peter said.

"Yes." I said.

That made Peter look at me. I met his stare head on. We were there for a moment, until he visibly realized what he had done. He looked away, his whole face changing to a shade of pink. Feeling smug at having Peter hide from me, I turned to James. It was his turn to be bore down with my stare. He appeared slightly guilty, more uncomfortable with what he had witnessed, and that helped me to no longer be as annoyed as I was.

"Not to worry Captain. The Slytherin team is so good they don't need to resort to spying to beat you." That and none of the team would accept my input. Barely anyone in my House did in day to day matters, even less if it had to do with Quidditch.

"Okay, I don't have time to tell you how wrong you are." Whatever sore spot had lied between us was gone, and Potter went back to a more normal attitude. I could deal with that side. It was more manageable, even when Lily claimed it wasn't. Honestly, I rather deal with pompous, snob, prat Potter than responsible and serious James. "I'll leave you to marvel at our greatness."

Pushing his body down to his broom, he flew away.

I followed his dash to his team, and watched as he told them something I couldn't hear. For a fraction of a moment, I saw as Sirius Black turned his head in my direction. He must have seen us talking earlier. If our eyes met, I didn't know; he was too far for me to actually be certain. In the silence that ensued after Potter left, I turned to look a Peter. Slouching in his seat, he appeared defeated, and I almost felt bad for being mean to him.

"Sorry." He muttered. Fidgeting with his fingers on his lap, he refused to look me in the eye.

I threw my arm around him, intending it to be a form of comfort and nothing else. I had no need for more confessions. "Don't worry Peter. The amnesia took many things, but not my speaking abilities."

After dinner and an hour in the Library, I finally managed to return to Slytherin House.

Merlin bid me goodnight when I mumbled the password, and that was a relief for me as I passed by him. I was in no mood to spend an hour sitting in the cold in front of a painting. The long, low underground space that was the common room was filled with sounds. There were lots of students loitering around couches, tables and seats, lounging away the early night in pleasant conversations.

Heading strictly to my dorm, I passed housemates engrossed in discussions on leather sofas. On my way, I saw first year Graham sitting close to the door to my dorm. When I was nearing him, he noticed me. He waved and was pleasant to me when I stopped to say hello and goodnight. He was playing wizard chess with one of his friends, a girl name Anne. I watched as the little figurines moved when played, almost harbouring the idea of staying to watch. Wizard chess was fascinating. Politely refusing his invitation for a game, I moved on my way only to bump into someone.

"Are you well, Faraday?"

Taking a step back, I looked mortified at Regulus, who stood in front of me with all the patience in the world. Though horrified that I had done such a discourteous thing, I was glad and relieved that it was him. Should it had been anyone else, the person would have made sure to make a scene and then my week would have been ruined. "Sorry!"

"It's all right; I wasn't looking where I was going." Regulus adjusted his robes as his spoke.

"I find that strange to believe." I smirked as I regarded him. Though a year younger, he was already as tall as me, and I'm sure he still had more growing to do. He had a dark sheltered look about him, that had I not seen him playing Quidditch before I would see say he was too weak to do anything.

Regulus smiled a gracious affair that made him look mature and regal. "Please excuse me; I have matters to attend to with the Society."

I tried hard for my face not to fall and remain as I was. Yes, the Duelling Society, the Slytherins little secret club where they met once or twice a week to practice their wand handling and the Dark Arts. As I smiled Regulus away, I made a point to control my face better. I had mixed feeling with the Society. When I started school and was invited to it, I had been so excited, but now it was only a source of dislike and worry. I hadn't been to one since September, and going to them were what marked me as a pariah in the eyes of my housemates. I looked around at the ones gathered in the common room. None of them appeared to notice me, or my exchange from earlier, and that was for the best.

I watched Regulus walk off, the Society topic bugging me, keeping me in the spot when I should had already moved to my dorm.

"May we have a word, Nolan?" The sickly sweetness of the wording was what made it clear that the words were directed at me. I got the impression that I had to run, that I should try to save myself from the unpleasantness that followed the use of my surname in the Slytherin common room, but instead I turned around. Stupid of me. Then again, I should have moved as soon as Regulus stopped talking to me.

Had it been just Severus Snape the one addressing me, I would have been fine. Though horrible to deal with, I could handle a social encounter with him. I had done it before and had emerged from it unscathed. Things weren't that easy, however. On his side, with a self-satisfied face stood Lorcan Mulciber.

They wasted no time talking, even when I never agreed to speak to them.

"We've been hearing strange things about you." Snape began making me wonder if he was the ring leader in this little intervention. His choice of partner for the event let me to believe that this was not his idea. I could be wrong.

Lorcan continued on. "Mainly your association with certain Gryffindors."

I didn't say anything. Mulciber's stare was burning holes into my very being, and it was very hard to come up with a retort so out of nowhere with them on top of me.

Snape went on even pressing on in what I believe he thought to be a righteous act of kindness toward a colleague that had no idea what she was doing. "You are a member of the House of Salazar Slytherin and that entails a certain type of pride that I'm afraid you are putting at jeopardy. Potter and his gang of infidels are a stain in this school, and you would do well to avoid them. They are not to be trusted."

"They are my friends." Maybe I did wrong to include all four of the Marauders in that sentiment, but I didn't care. What bothered me more about the situation was having to explain myself. I didn't explain myself fully and truthfully to Lily, why the Hell did I had to do it to Severus Snape and Lorcan Mulciber? I made sure to appear as stubborn as I felt, glaring to them as fiercely as I thought myself able.

With a nasty expression that seemed too normal on Snape's face, he lowered his hooked nose, his hair framing his face in a way that didn't suit him at all. "I couldn't believe at first that a member of our house could spend time with Gryffindor scum. I thought that you were being taken advantage of, but now I've been clarified. I do thank you."

I stared. Oh, I did not like his choice of words, though they were perfect to use against him. "You didn't say anything when it was just Lily." My accusation was directly and strictly for Severus. And I got the effect I had wanted.

Snape's face contorted instantly, from a viciously calmed demeanour it changed to spite.

Lorcan took a step forward, and with his long legs a step forward meant being way too close for comfort. I tried hard not to look him in the eye, but they captured me before I could turn away. "My sweet Faraday. We're worried about you. All day, everyday you're up and down with that raggedy group of blood-traitors and half-bloods." I wanted to say that he was exaggerating, to defend myself, but I couldn't do it. Not when his stare pierced right through me. "People are talking. Of you and them. Of you and Pettigrew. The naughty kind of talk, darling."

For the longest moment, all I could do was stare at him. His word left no space for the imagination; I knew what he implied. I tried for it to not get to me. I made myself as impassive as ever, so to not grab more attention. So far there weren't prying eyes on us that I could notice, and that was a strength inducing surprise. "I thank you for your concern, but who I chose to befriend shouldn't matter to you."

"It matters when it deals with Gryffindor blood-traitors and abominations." Snape's words made me wince. They did. It wasn't a direct insult to me, but Merlin's beard it sure felt like it was. I'm sure it was the abomination bit that got the rise from me. I knew who he was referring to, and it felt like a personal insult his slur to Remus Lupin.

I remained silent as I regarded his hissing anger. I prayed for Lily to forgive me from using her words to jab at Severus. Maybe she would get angry at me, she had trusted me with the story of her friendship with him, but it was the only weapon I had. "Lily's a Gryffindor, do your words encapsulate her, as well?"

That made Snape slip, like I had intended when mentioning my friend. "I never said—"

"You said Gryffindor abominations. The first time I went to the Society, someone told me muggle-born students were abominations. Though, they used a hideous word to refer to them." I didn't look away, I couldn't. As I spoke in a deliberate polite manner, I tried to emulate confidence and power. I had to if I wanted my words to work their magic. "Ah, you know the one. Lily told me you do."

My point reached its mark. Severus was seething. He shook with anger, his mouth taking the form of a mean grimace. On another hand, Lorcan's face showed only pure wicked excitement, the one he saved sorely to when I reacted to his negative pushing.

Snape flourished his robes, and before I could react to even take a step back, he had his wand fully pointed at me. His arm raised between us, all my previous bravado went for a swim in the lake. My thoughts went to my wand, and how I had it hidden in a pocket to my side. If I went for it, I could be cursed or jinxed at least once before I got it. And that was without considering Lorcan joining the fray. But he didn't, he gazed only at me, waiting for what would be my reaction.

"That's enough." Coming to stand between Snape's wand and me, Gemma intervened, her Prefect badge shining brightly. She was unarmed, but she was secure in her stance. As ever, her tall, slim body and her long blonde hair made her an imposing figure. It was a relief to not be alone anymore, even when I didn't know what her interference meant. Why had she come? Was it to help me, or to stop a conversation from becoming a thunderous scene? My thoughts shifted to the second reason. Gemma didn't care for me in any sense to help me.

Mulciber stepped closer to her, as if he expected his movement to make her walk away. "We're not done."

"Yes you are." Gemma pressed using the full force of her school title.

His wand never wavering, Snape spoke. "This has to be done, Carrow."

"Not like this. Not again." She said and I was astonished at her choice of words. I watched her. I had to. In her eyes I saw regret, and in my heart I wished it wasn't just a naive assumption of mine. What did she regret? Allowing Snape and Mulciber a chance to corner me and almost attack me, or what happened in September, because this scene was eerily similar? I couldn't tell. "You can go, Faraday."

I eyed her, trying to see a trick in her. I didn't see any. I wanted to, though. Everything seemed too simple that for all I knew could be a trap. But it wasn't. Gemma was genuinely playing her role as Slytherin Prefect with no preference in mind.

"Thanks." I said softly, turning without vacillation to walk to my dorm.

. . .