Author's Note: Thanks again for all the love and comments on this fic! Every interaction makes my day :) Enjoy!

The next morning towards the end of breakfast (during which I warn James enough with my eyes he good-naturedly sits across the table from me), Barnaby delivers a furled parchment to me. I don't open it because I'm too caught up in discussion with Alice, James, and the rest of the Marauders about our Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment due this morning. I'd made what I thought was an innocent comment about the concealment charms on the Hogwarts Express being dangerously close to violating the regulations outlined by the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office at the Ministry, only to have Peter, Sirius, and Alice take immediate offense. Remus backed me up, and James, infuriating as he is, flipped side to side playing devil's advocate.

We're still arguing as we finish eating and leave the Great Hall. It's only as we cross the grounds to Herbology that Alice nods at the scroll in my hands and I remember it.

"What's that?" she asks.

"Probably a note from Dumbledore – maybe he already wants to meet again? Or I guess it could be from Slughorn..." I trail off as I unfurl the parchment and see who it's from.

"Lil?" Alice asks sharply. "You okay? You just went as pale as Nearly Headless Nick."

"What's on that?" James yanks the note from my hands. I don't stop him. When he reads it, he bursts out laughing.

"What?" Alice asks.

James passes it to her, and Sirius, Peter, and Remus crowd around to read. I picture the words as their eyes skim down the parchment.

Miss Evans,

Despite what Mr. Potter says, I know you have no Head Girl matters to attend to during the very first Transfiguration class of the term. This was further confirmed by other students who confided in me that you spent my class period with Mr. Severus Snape, who should not be participating with you in any Head duties, as he is not even a prefect.

As a consequence, you will report to my office this evening at 8 pm to serve your detention.

Best wishes,

Professor McGonagall

"Evans!" Sirius exclaims. "You're going to detention! Congratulations!"

"I can't have detention," I whisper. "I'm Head Girl."

"So?" Peter asks. "James has been to loads of detentions, and he's Head Boy. Remus too, and he's been a prefect since fifth year. No one cares."

"I have detention," I say. The words in that order don't make any sense.

"I should have skipped with you," James says.

"Yes, then maybe McGonagall would have thought we were actually up to Head duties," I say, just as James says, "Then we could have gone to detention together."

We stare at each other, confused.

"That would not be better," I say finally.

"More fun though," he counters.

"Not the point," I say.

"Speak for yourself, Evans," Sirius says. "But just know I think the rest of us have plenty more detention experience to speak with authority. And trust me when I say fun is definitely the point of detention."

I ignore him. We've reached the greenhouses, and I'm presented with the dilemma of where to sit. Usually I sit with Alice, Marlene, and... Emmeline. Remarkably, up until this morning, I've been able to avoid having to sit with her, except in Defense the first day and that hardly counts as I was far too distracted by James to really be bothered.

But now here she is, sitting with Marlene at our table, and I'm bothered.

Alice senses my hesitation. "Come sit, Lil," she urges. "Staying friends, remember?"

"We might stay better friends if I sit somewhere else," I mutter, but allow her to pull me over to Emmeline and Marlene.
"Morning!" Alice says cheerfully.

"Hello!" Marlene says, just as brightly, but Emma mumbles a lackluster "Hey," which admittedly is better than the weak smile I give. Thankfully Professor Sprout bustles in before we have to make any sort of awkward small talk, and the Venomous Tentacula keep us blessedly busy the rest of class.

/

Mine and Emma's identical schedules combined with the looming gloom of detention have me in a snippy mood the rest of the day. It's helped only marginally when James and I meet in the prefect room during our last free period . We'd intended to use this time to talk to Professor Dumbledore, but he'd been absent from the staff table both breakfast and lunch today, meaning he was almost certainly out of the castle. Instead, we're using the time to start a list of students we think might be good for the Minister's visit.

The first few names are easy – Alice and Marlene, of course, and Sirius, Remus, and Peter. I suggest Angela from Ravenclaw, and James supplies Frank.

I tap my quill tip on the parchment in front of James. "We ought to get some more other House members on here."

"Right," James agrees. "Just one more Gryffindor first." He clears his throat. "I think Carol should come."

"What?" I say, disbelief sharpening my tone. "Are you crazy?"

"No," he says. "I think... it'd just be good for her, that's all."

I glower at him. "Fine," I say. I yank the list away from him. "Then I think Severus should also come."

"What?" It's his turn to be disbelieving. "We can't invite Snape."

"Why not?" I ask, primly writing Carol Robins and Severus Snape under the list of our other names.

James scoffs. "Because he's a Slytherin, obviously. He's in with Rosier and the rest."

"That's kind of the point," I say. "He has to be in with them. That's how he's spying for us. Wouldn't be much of a point if he didn't know what was going on."

Yesterday while we'd tracked down the senior prefects to remind them about the meeting on Sunday, I'd filled James in on everything Severus had revealed.

James had stayed quiet for most of my recounting, only breaking when I said Sev was switching to our side to spy on the Slytherins for us.

"How are we supposed to trust that?" he demanded.

"I trust him," I said.

"Hmph," James said, and only then did I realize how that probably sounded to someone I'd told recently I didn't trust him.

"Sorry," I'd said, and we left it at that.

Discomfort seeps back into the room now that we're talking about Sev again.

"We need students from all Houses," I say gently, trying to smooth the mood over. "And you can't tell me you can think of anyone better to include from Slytherin."

James grunts.

I check the time. "Dinner's started. Let's think on some other House names for next time."

"I've got one for Hufflepuff," he says as we leave the prefect room.

"Who's that?"

"You know Eagans? Fourth year?"

"Ha ha ha..."

/

"What time's your detention, Lily?" Marlene asks over dinner.

"Lily has detention?"

I flick my eyes to Emmeline. She reddens and drops her gaze back to her plate.

"Eight," I answer Marlene, still watching Em. "I'm meeting Professor McGonagall in her office."

"Hmm," she says. "Probably some kind of cleaning, then."

"The worst kind," Sirius says. "Should have taken Prongs up on that invitation, Evans. Remember... fun."

"I could always crash your detention," James offers. I frown at him. "Just offering."

Emmeline finishes her food and leaves without a word. We all watch as over at the Slytherin table, Rosier gets up and follows her out.

"Maybe..." I say, my eyes still locked on the door Emmeline and Rosier left through. "Maybe you should crash my detention."

"Are you worried?" James asks.

I swallow. I hate to admit it, but I am. I'm worried Em will say something to Rosier, and then all the Slytherins will know where to find me. "A little," I say.

James looks across the table at Sirius. "McGonagall will probably take her wand, too."

"What?" I ask, alarmed.

"Standard detention procedure," Sirius says.

"That could be a problem," Remus says. He's sitting next to Sirius and now he looks concerned too.

"I don't like it either," James says. He glances at Marlene, who's following the conversation closely. Then he looks back across the table at the other Marauders, with raised eyebrows and jerks his head at me. They nod, and Peter gives him a thumbs up.

James leans in closer to me. When he speaks, it's in a whisper. "We'll keep tabs on you. We've got the Map. You'll be fine – promise. And if anyone fishy is hanging around, we'll be right there."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Who would have thought I'd feel so comforted knowing these four would be watching out for me? But they came through for me at the wedding, and I trust them to do the same for me tonight.

It's the big stuff that's easiest to trust when it comes to this lot.

"Thanks," I say. Under the table I find his hand and give it a squeeze.

/

"Come with me," Professor McGonagall says without so much as a greeting when I knock on her office door – five minutes early, I might add. This Head Girl might have detention, but she's not going to look bad by being late for it.

"Okay," I say nervously.

I follow her down the hallway into a room I've never been to before. It's regular classroom size, but cages and crates line the walls, and dust and staw coat the floor. It smells like a barnyard, and I wrinkle my nose reflexively. It's clear the room is inhabited by a variety of creatures. Toads, ravens, raccoons, rats, mice, roosters, snails... all the animals, I realize, that we practice on in Transfiguration and Charms classes.

"You will scrub this room, top to bottom, until it's flawlessly clean. No magic." Professor McGonagall says the last bit like it's the ultimate punishment.

I blink. "That's... that's it?" I say.

"That's it," she says, and her lips tug into the smallest smile before she's all business again. "I don't know what you were thinking, Miss Evans," Professor McGonagall says. "Missing class when my big mid-year exam is next week. I would have thought you'd want all the in-class practice you could get."

I feel like I've accidentally swallowed an ice pop whole. I'd completely forgotten about McGonagall's exam. There's been so much going on since I last talked to her that I couldn't be bothered to spare Transfiguration any extra thoughts when I didn't need to.

But my terror returns to the full force I experienced before we left school for holidays. "I'm sorry, Professor," I say. "You're right, it was totally irresponsible of me. But I'll be ready for the exam, I promise."

"You'd better," Professor McGonagall says, and while it's not exactly threatening, it's not very encouraging either. "You know the consequences if you're not."

I nod weakly.

McGonagall looks around the room. "I'll be back at ten to check your progress."

I blink. "You're not staying?"

McGonagall's nostrils flare. "Goodness, no. I have much better things to do than watch you clean for the next two hours." She flicks her wand, and a large tub of soapy water, along with a pile of washcloths, a broom, and a mop, appear. "But I expect it sparkling in here when I return. And I'll be taking your wand as insurance you finish the task as instructed."

"Yes, Professor," I say meekly. I hand over my wand. If I didn't know James was coming later, I'd be panicking. Although, as it is...

McGonagall strides out, leaving me to survey the mess. I dart a glance at the door into the darkened hallway. I'm fine, I remind myself. James is watching the Map. I'm fine. And with a deep fortifying breath, I roll up my sleeves and get to work.

Detention, it turns out, is less traumatizing than expected. Really, if it wasn't for my anxiety Rosier might appear in the doorway to hex me, I'd almost be bored. While the wandless clean-up is unpleasant, it's nowhere near the punishment I was expecting. I've been cleaning without magic most of my life, and while my tidiness habits left something to be desired, Mum liked a clean house, so I've scrubbed plenty of floors in my time. Even if we didn't keep animals, really, scrubbing the cages clean doesn't feel all that different from scrubbing out the garage, and floors are floors, whether they're Muggle hardwood or magic stone castle.

The worst part of the menial labor is that while my hands are busy sweeping and scrubbing and mopping, it's not very mentally demanding and leaves plenty of time for my mind to wander. In between worrying about the Slytherins, I can't get Professor McGonagall's warning out of my head.

I can't believe I forgot about the exam! It had been such a big deal before we'd left school on break, but so much has happened since that it hasn't been a priority in my mind. And really, it shouldn't feel so threatening, seeing as I have Death Eaters in training after me and so many bigger, life-threatening things to worry about. But the more I think about it, the more I panic about the gigantic exam coming next week that could very well make or break my Auror ambitions.

Why should everything I've been aiming for hang on one exam? One class? Maybe I'm overconfident but I'm really not worried about any of my other subjects. I've always done well (better than well) in the rest of them. Just this stupid Transfiguration subject stumps me. And now it might ruin everything. I plunge the mop into the bucket of water extra-aggressively and, as a result, the soapy water tidal-waves over my shoes, leaving them soggy and uncomfortable, and when I go to reach for my wand to dry myself off, I find an empty pocket and remember Professor McGonagall took it.

I take a deep shuddering breath in. I will not cry over some wet shoes. I'm much more mature than that. And I have a job to do. But suddenly, even though I'm well over halfway finished, the last task of mopping the filthy floor seems insurmountable and I can't find it in me to start. Instead, I stand there, staring at the floor and listening to the scritchy sounds the animals make as they settle in for the night.

Which, of course, is when James comes in. I can't even bother to be surprised. I should have known that even if I was safe, he'd still find an excuse to come.

I hurry and grab the mop to look busy and hide the fact that I'm very near tears.

"Come to crash my detention?" I ask, busily swiping it over a particularly nasty stretch of floor.

"Well, not just me," he admits, walking over to where I'm cleaning. "The other three are outside."

"Figures," I say. "You all do tend to travel in a pack."

"And you can't even lecture us, because curfew's still a half hour off, and you asked us to be here."

"Except that I hardly think coming into my detention is allowed. So there's something."

"Always something with you," he says. "And don't panic, but Rosier and Lestrange have been skulking around this floor, so it is a good thing we're here."

I pause, considering that. "Do… do you think they're here for me?" My voice, already strained from holding back tears, cracks slightly. Like I need another thing to stress about. I turn my back and start mopping vigorously again to cover it up.

"Unfortunately, yes," he says, scowling. "We heard them talking, and they're the ones who snitched on you to McGonagall about skiving Transfiguration yesterday for Snape. I think they were counting on catching you alone tonight. I'm glad we're here." I feel him watching me for a minute. I don't look up, overly focused on the floor. "Are you doing okay?"

"Fine," I say. Which, like, I know I should say literally anything else. Everyone knows 'fine' is the first response for anyone who is definitely not fine.

"Lily," James says. "What's up? You know we won't let them come anywhere near here. You're totally safe, I promise."

"I know," I say. And truthfully, I do. Wild, but I do trust those mischievous boys to have my back. If nothing else, all their marauding has made them an undeniably effective force to be reckoned with. I keep at my mopping, moving methodically to the next section of the stone floor.

"Okay…" James studies me, brow creased. "Is it the detention, then? I know they're not fun but it hasn't been too bad, right? Just some cleaning..."

"It's the exam." I finally look up. Dang it. Tears collect in the edges of my eyes and I blink to keep them from spilling. It feels so stupid to be crying over a silly exam when there are actual Death Eater prodigies stalking me, but I can't help it.

"The exam?" he asks blankly, and I know he's forgotten, too.
"Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration exam. It's next week, and I'm going to fail, I just know it," I say, and my lip trembles.

"Hey, now," James says, and in the space of a breath he's got an arm around me. I drop the mop so I can turn into him.

"I need an E to stay in class," I say, my voice muffled into his shoulder. "You know how many times I've gotten an E on a Transfiguration exam? Never."

"Well, that's just not true," James says.

"Yes, it is."

"What about first year? Second?"

"I mean, fine, okay, I did those years. But we're not testing on first year skills."

"But that's what we've been working on, remember? You've got the foundations flawlessly. And that means you can do any of the advanced work, too."

"The past four and a half years say differently."

"Not true!" he says. He pulls back so he can look at me. "What mark did you get on your last essay?"

"An O," I say. "But that's not the same as a practical exam –"

He talks over me. "And how did you do in class the last week before break?"

"Fine," I say. "I Vanished my badger. But that was one time, and I wasn't as stressed–"

"AND," James says, still not letting me finish. "Did you or did you not Conjure an actual wall of water when the Slytherins attacked you?"

"I - huh?" I say.

"Because you know what's more stressful than some measly practical exam? A high-stakes attack on your life when you're alone. And you know what you managed to do then?"

"Conjure a wall of water?" I say timidly.

"Exactly," he says. "You're going to be fine. McGonagall's exam is going to be a piece of cake after that."

I think that over. I hadn't even considered how what I'd done in the woods was magic that I, by all my past Transfiguration failures, shouldn't have been able to do. And I'd pulled it off without a second's thought.

"Huh," I say. "I did do that."

James smiles. "Yes, you did. But, look, if you're still nervous, we'll practice for it, okay? We've got plenty of time, it's not till next Friday." His smile widens. "I am still your tutor, after all."

"Tutoring!" I exclaim, smacking a hand to my forehead. "We didn't do tutoring this week!"

"I think it's fine. You've had a lot going on this week."

I consider the last few days: coming back to school, avoiding James, meeting with Professor Dumbledore, making up with James, finding out the Slytherins were the ones who attacked me, getting detention... yes. It has been a big week.

"Fine," I allow. "But no more excuses. We're getting right back on this tutoring business. It's more important now than ever. And then maybe if I do alright, McGonagall will forgive me sooner for missing class and getting detention." I check my watch. "Which... ends very soon." I look around at the floor, still mostly un-mopped. The chances of me earning Professor McGonagall's forgiveness do not look so great.

"I've got you," James says, and before I can protest, he pulls out his wand. "Scourgify."

I examine the floor with some anxiety – I wouldn't put it past McGonagall to give me more detention if she thought I'd cheated – but the more I pace the room, the more I relax. "Well, thanks to your continuously sloppy charms, I think that might actually pass for Muggle cleaning," I say when I've looped back to him.

"I hardly think it's fair how much you make fun of my charms work," James complains. "I've yet to say one negative thing about your Transfiguration skills, and Merlin knows there's a lot –"

"Not another word, James," I say, covering his mouth with my hand.

His eyes crinkle, and I can feel his smile under my palm. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," he says, pulling my hand away from his face.

"Used to what?"

"James," he says. "You saying my name."

I duck my head. My embarrassment is not helped when I realize he's still holding my hand. All this touchy-feely stuff is still so brand-new and leaves me feeling off-balance. Not in a bad way, but still... I don't know what to do with it. How much to encourage it.

"Get out of here, Potter," I say, over-emphasizing his surname and pushing him towards the door. "Professor McGonagall will be back any minute and somehow it'll be all my fault if she catches you here." He stumbles away but before he leaves out the door, I say, "Thanks, though... James. For checking in on me. And the help with the floors."

/

Professor McGonagall returns barely two minutes after James has left. She scans the room almost suspiciously, even toeing some of the clean straw I spread under the cages to inspect the floor. I clench my hands behind my back.

"Everything appears to be in order," she says finally.

"Thank you, Professor," I say.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, Miss Evans. There will be no more skipping my class."

"No, ma'am," I say.

"Very well. You best get on your way back to Gryffindor tower. And take those four boys lurking in the hallway with you – despite how enjoyable they seem to think detention is, I'm not eager to oversee another one just yet."

Outside the doorway, someone snickers. It sounds a lot like Sirius Black.

"Of course, Professor," I say.

She excuses me and I slip out into the corridor. It's suspiciously empty.

"Alright, you lot," I say. "Let's go."

There's a burst of scuffling and then a large ornate mirror down the hall swings open and the four of them tumble out, giggling like a bunch of first years.

"Ouch, Moony, that was my foot," Peter complains, wriggling out from under Remus.

"Sorry," Remus says. "Padfoot shoved me."

"Did not!"

I sigh as they pick themselves up. "I'm starting to understand how you've all ended up in so many detentions. None of you have any degree of subtlety."

"Not true," James says, hopping up. "You don't know half of what we do. And with the Map finally done, we're going to be even more effective."

I roll my eyes. "And you wonder why I worry about all your secrets. Let's go."

I turn to head back upstairs, but rapidly realize no one's following me. "Um, guys?"

"So... here's the thing, Evans," Sirius says. "We've got this... um... thing –" All of them giggle again. Sirius fights to regain composure. "This thing we have to do. So..."

"Absolutely not," I say. "It's almost curfew!"

"Won't take long," he reassures me. "We'll be back."

"By ten?" I say skeptically.

"Ten thirty," Sirius says confidently. "Or eleven. Midnight at the latest."

"Guys!" I exclaim.

"It'll be fine, Lily," James assures me. "We won't get caught. Marauder's promise."

"That's not the point."

"Lily..."

"You're Head Boy," I remind him.

"No one's going to know it was me!" he says.

"Right," I say. "No one will suspect whatever trick you've all got brewing comes from the Marauders, notorious for exactly these kinds of things." I look to Remus for support, but he disappoints me.

"Ah, but no one will be able to prove it," Remus points out. I frown at him.

"And," James jumps in, "we can continue keeping an eye out to make sure the Slytherins aren't sneaking around."

"Like you can't do that from the common room," I say.

"Come on Lily..."

Faced with all four of them channeling the maximum amount of pleading eyes and still feeling too grateful to James for promising me help with Transfiguration—and the fact that they were here at all with the primary purpose to keep me safe—I cave.

"Fine!" I say. "Do what you like. But if you get caught, you better swear up and down I had nothing to do with this. As far as anyone knows, I escorted you all up to the common room and you snuck out after I went to bed."

"Brilliant!" Sirius punches the air. "Can do, Evans."

"Get out of here," I say, waving a hand and turning away. "I don't want any reason to have to lie about what I know."