Chapter Five

Things Finally Start Going My Way

I was absolutely dreading Wednesday, which of course meant that it was approaching at an alarming rate. I still couldn't quite believe my rotten luck, but it seemed my friends had tired of sympathizing with me and now chastised me any time I brought up my impending doom.

"It's not fair," I bemoaned at breakfast the day before the club was supposed to meet. Becca rolled her eyes out of my peripheral while Emmeline suddenly took extreme interest in her porridge, but I didn't let them put me off my complaining. "Why do I have to be stuck with Lupin and Pettigrew for the rest of term?"

"You're the one who chose the club, idiot," Dorcas said, never taking her gaze off that morning's issue of the Daily Prophet, and I made a face at her that she didn't see.

"Yeah, but I didn't know they were in it." I nodded my head down the table to where the pratty Marauders sat, holding court over the rest of the Gryffindors around them, but I reserved my nasty glare for Lupin and Pettigrew, who were too preoccupied with something Potter was saying to notice that I was attempting to burn holes in the back of their heads and turn their brains into goo.

"Well, it's too late now," Dorcas said, turning a page in her newspaper and obviously seeming to find whatever article she was reading much more fascinating than my current dilemma. "McG won't let you switch, so there's no use crying over it."

I wrinkled my nose, though conceded this point to her. The day after my little chat with Lupin in the courtyard, I had marched straight to Professor McGonagall's office to argue and later beg my way out of the Muggle Arts Club, but she'd been as stubborn as a boulder. She had basically told me to stop whining and get to class, completely blowing off my pleas and very valid reasons I had for not being able to work with Lupin, but she hadn't bought it, nearly shoving me out of her office before slamming the door in my face.

"Stop looking so glum, Pipes," Becca said. "Your sulking face is hardly attractive."

I shot her a rude hand gesture, but she merely shrugged me off, gathering her things as she and Emmeline prepared to depart for Ancient Runes. So much for my supportive friends. First they scold me for being so pouty, and then they just leave me to brood and become even poutier! Maybe it was time I started looking at better mates to hang around with, ones who would be sympathetic to my plight…

"C'mon, Mopey," Dorcas sighed, discarding her Prophet on the table and standing up. "Let's get to Divination."

I ignored her distasteful nickname and followed her out of the Great Hall, beginning the arduous trek across the castle to the Divination classroom. We'd barely walked a few steps out of the Hall before a solid mass crashed into my chest and sent me toppling painfully to the ground, and I let out a particularly loud and colorful curse as I landed on my side.

"Watch where you're going!" I snapped, accepting Dorcas's hand up and glaring at my bumbling attacker, only to stop in recognition when I saw the evil kid from Fortescue's standing in front of me and wearing a shit-eating grin. "You."

"Sorry, Pimply," the little ponce replied as he pushed past me with two of his tiny snickering friends. They continued into the Great Hall, laughing like the little gits they were, and I clenched my jaw, wondering how they even knew the Marauders' stupid nickname for me, for they couldn't have been older than first-years.

"Let it go, Pipes," Dorcas said, patting my shoulder and guiding me toward the marble staircase. "I'd rather not have to testify against you if you get arrested for practicing Unforgivables on the firsties."

Divination had to be the most useless class in the world. With me being a Muggle-born and all, the subject had seemed fascinating when I signed up for it in third year, but I quickly began to realize why it was treated as such a joke in the wizarding world. All we did was stare into foggy crystal balls and make up predictions based on tea leaves and the lines on people's hands, and I would bet my entire life savings that our teacher couldn't even tell a crystal ball from a snow globe and that he was only teaching this class for those sweet Hogwarts staff benefits.

"Today we will be reading tea leaves," Professor Moone announced once we were all settled. His puffy white hair and voluminous beard gave him the impression of Santa Claus if Santa had somehow become a homeless hippie bum after retiring from the Christmas scene. He was always decked out in beads and these weird woolen vests and always barefoot for some reason beyond me; even in winter, all he wore on his feet were mismatching socks with holes in the toes. But I had to admire the guy for his ability to not care what anyone thought of him. His eccentricity had permanently earned him the title of 'Professor Loon', but he seemed delighted by the name and typically laughed and hugged a student whenever they accidentally slipped up and called him it aloud.

Dorcas groaned as we pulled out our copies of Unfogging the Future and turned to the chapter on tea leaves.

"We've been working on tea leaves ever since term started," she grumbled. "Why can't we just move on already so I can stop making predictions about you dying from some fatal disaster?"

I simply shrugged, thumbing through the pages lazily.

"Why don't you ask Loon if you can switch out?" I said snidely, and she threw me a glare.

"Y'know, you've been a right pain in the ass ever since you found out you're going to be babysat by Lupin every week."

"Sorry that you're not being forced into working with your arch-nemesis."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have hexed Black on the train!"

"He was being a git to you and Becca! Someone had to do something!"

Dorcas sighed, shaking her head. "I think you overreacted, Piper. Black's hurled worse insults at us before."

"So I was just supposed to roll over and take it when he accused me of using Aubrey to get my O.W.L. results?"

"Look, this vendetta that you have with the Marauders… We never asked to be a part of it. You've kept up this war for so long, and for what?" She shook her head again, her nails tapping irritably on the circular clothed table separating us. "Maybe you should let this grudge go, Pipes. They're graduating after this year, and then we'll never see them again. It's time to let bygones be bygones."

I was stunned. I couldn't even think of anything to say. She just gave me a slight smile before going to fetch our teacups from Professor Loon. And what could I say? I contemplated throwing it back in her face that if weren't for my war against the Marauders, then we would never have been friends in the first place but figured that was too much of a low blow. But how could she think that? Certainly it wasn't my incessant complaining. Was it?

"I'm sensing very negative energy from you right now, Miss Everlark," Professor Loon said as he swept up behind me, and I tried not to gag on the heavy, cloying scent that rolled off of him. "Remember to clear your head and keep your mind open to experience the great powers of your Inner Eye!"

I glared at the back of his head as he ambled off and decided that my prophecy for this year was whether or not I would end up beating the old coot senseless with one of his teacups before the term was out.


I ate dinner alone that night. I know, I know, call me childish all you want, but I really wasn't in the mood to be around Dorcas or the others. I just wanted to sulk without being admonished for it and needed to ponder on Dorcas's words from earlier, even though I'd been chewing on them for the better part of a day.

I didn't understand what had gotten into her. She hated the Marauders as much as I did, and even though she may have never participated directly in my revenge against them, she'd never discouraged me before either. Same with Becca and Emmeline. I didn't know where they stood on the matter concerning my war against the seventh-year boys, but I figured they'd side with Dorcas – they always did.

I'd left the kitchens behind to seek some solitude, carrying a plate of food with me. Don't get me wrong, I liked the house-elves and all, but after a while, it got tiring falling out of my seat every time one of them would Apparate into the room with a loud crack that resembled a gunshot. Technically, I shouldn't even know where the kitchens were, much less be taking food from them, but the house-elves were always so accommodating, and it wasn't my fault if Sean Baskin, my Hufflepuff ex from fourth year, showed me how to enter in the first place.

I found a nice empty alcove on the first-floor corridor and perched myself inside of it, taking a stab at my boiled potatoes with my fork before shoveling the bite in my mouth moodily. I doubted my attitude will have improved by tomorrow, considering what I had to look forward to, but I tried not to think about Lupin and his stupid club too much, attempting to enjoy my lonely dinner for one.

Of course, I could never get anything I asked for.

"What are you doing here, Everlark?"

I looked up to see Lily Evans standing in front of my hideout, her arms crossed and an imperious look on her heart-shaped face as her emerald eyes swept over me and the plate of food I was holding.

"You're a smart girl, Evans," I said, nodding to her Head Girl badge. "I'm sure you can very well guess what I'm doing."

"Dinner ended over half an hour ago," she said, still staring at me with those irritating arching brows of hers. "And I didn't see you with your fellow twits, so I'm assuming you got that from the kitchens." She pointed to my plate of half-eaten food.

"C'mon, Evans, we're in the same House," I whined. "You're not going to take points off me because you found me sulking, are you?"

"Of course not," she said, sniffing. "I want Gryffindor to win the Cup as much as the next person, but you are breaking school rules still."

"Then slap me with a detention," I said. "Just schedule it sometime after tomorrow; I'm going to be busy with something McG already set up for me."

Evans cocked her head, studying me in mild interest, though I could tell she'd rather be anywhere else than standing here talking to me.

"I heard about that," she said, and I faked applause for her.

"She can hear!" I said.

"Just don't give Remus any shit, you hear?" she said, ignoring my jab. "He has enough on his plate without you giving him hell for the rest of term."

I narrowed my eyes at her. Why was everyone getting on to me about the Marauders? They were the ones who had made my life suck since first year, and now suddenly everyone wanted to take their side. Ugh. I think I could feel my potatoes coming up again.

"Whatever, Evans," I mumbled, finishing up the last of my dinner. She didn't say anything for a long while, and when I looked back up, she was already continuing with her rounds down the corridor. I frowned at her back. Did Evans really just pass up an opportunity to give me detention? Was the world coming to an end?

Suddenly struck with a thought, I swallowed my last bite hastily and called out, "Evans, hey!"

She turned to look back at me, that irritating I'm-better-than-you look still on her face, but I ignored it.

"What do you want, Everlark?" She sounded tired, and I wondered if that one simple conversation with me had made her so weary.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

She blinked in surprise, her face settling into a frown as her bright eyes raked me over, as if debating whether she was going to give me a solid answer or not.

"Besides the obvious reasons?" she asked, and I nodded. I knew what the obvious reasons were, we all did: I was loud and overdramatic, and I always felt the need to be the center of attention. Most blokes found that annoying, but the ones who found it charming were attracted to me like flies with rotten fruit, and that was typically why the female population of Hogwarts tended to hate me so much.

Evans sighed, shaking out her mane of red hair before eyeing me shrewdly.

"Do you remember when I was a prefect fifth year?" she asked, and I nodded slowly, unsure of where she was going with this. "You were only a fourth-year, but it was around that time that you and your mates started making a name for yourselves."

Ah, yes. The year the girls and I had blossomed to our full potential. We were no longer the lame, pathetic underclassmen exacting revenge on the Marauders, but the attractive, popular girls who everyone else had slept on. That was a good year for us.

"Well, there was an incident one day. I caught you skiving class in the bathroom, but when I attempted to give you a detention, you completely lost your head. You started screaming horrible things at me, saying how I was a prissy, goody-two-shoes and that nobody liked me because of it, and that I thought the world revolved around me and I threw a fit anytime I didn't get what I wanted."

She stared hard at me as she talked, but I felt like I was getting slapped. I didn't remember any of this. Had I really said all those nasty things to Evans, or was she just making it up?

"You also told me that you didn't know what James Potter saw in me since I was so stuck up and spoiled and selfish, and to finish it off, you told me to pull the unnaturally long and stiff stick out of my ass before storming off."

Oh. Oh, no. I remembered now. I remembered the whole thing clearly. I flushed, but not from the realization that I had said all those things to Evans, because, come on, they were true. That was the day of the letter…

I cleared my throat while Evans looked at me expectantly; what for, I had no idea, but if she was waiting for an apology, she'd be waiting a while. This street went both ways, and I wouldn't apologize to her until she apologized to me for all the awful things she'd said about me over the last few years.

"Good to know," I said nonchalantly, hopping out of the alcove and flipping my hair over my shoulder. Her eyes narrowed, but I gave her a brilliant smile. "Thanks for the honesty, Evans."

She scoffed.

"You are such a brat, Everlark," she said before turning on her heel and stalking away. As she went, I could hear her mutter, "Dunno why I'm even surprised…"

I began to head back to the kitchens, intending to return my plate, but as I walked through the empty corridor, I tried to figure out why my conversation with Evans had made me feel worse than before.


The next afternoon, I sat in the courtyard with the girls while we enjoyed our free block for that day, choosing to spend it outside and take advantage of the good weather while it lasted. Well, my friends wanted to. Don't get me wrong, I loved summer and all, but I much preferred the cold. This sunshine and sweat just didn't do the trick for me, but I tried to keep my complaining to a minimum. Dorcas and I had made up after our spat yesterday, and for now, I was determined to keep the peace.

"Benjy, if you kick that thing over here one more time I'm going to Jelly-Legs you!" Emmeline yelled after the hacky-sack the boys from our year had been messing around with hit her in the head again.

"Sorry, Em," JJ, our friend and fellow Gryffindor called, grinning as Emmeline hurled the hacky-sack back to him with a huff. "It won't happen again!"

"It better not, Jasper Jones!" she warned, going back to her Charms book while the rest of us snickered.

"It's not our fault that Benjy can't aim for hippogriff dung," Dom snorted.

"Sod off," said Benjy, but he was grinning as Dom punched his shoulder.

"You should be a Chaser for Hufflepuff, Benj," Alfie cracked. "They can't ever score a goal to save their lives – you'd fit right in!"

"Boys, stop taking the piss out of poor Benjy," I said, twirling a loose curl around my finger as I watched their antics. "He can't help it if he was born with the coordination of a troll."

Everyone laughed at this, and I squealed and ducked into Becca's side when he swatted at my head. "Beck, save me!"

Becca pushed me off with a good-natured smile. "No way! You deserve it."

"At least Becca's on my side," Benjy said, grinning at my friend before ruffling my hair and sending my curls sticking every which direction.

"Argh, Benjy, not the hair!" I groaned, taking a kick at his shins, but he was already bounding away to rejoin his friends, shooting Becca a wink over his shoulder that caused her to blush.

"That going well?" I asked under my breath, and Becca looked away from the boys' game to give me an inquisitive look.

"What do you mean?" she said, feigning nonchalance.

"You and Fenwick," I said, tilting my head in the direction of the blond boy, and she blushed further.

"Oh, I, er…" She stopped stuttering when she met my knowing gaze. "Look, I don't know, okay? It's weird."

"'S not weird," I assured her, looking back to the boys and watching Benjy flip his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "You two would be cute together."

"Maybe," she said, nibbling on her lower lip and following my gaze, her eyes raking over Benjy from under her dark bangs. "I just don't know if I like him in that way or not, or if I'm only considering him because I've known he's had a crush on me since fourth year."

"You never know if you don't try," I pointed out.

She sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"BENJY!" Emmeline shouted, clutching the hacky-sack in her hand and standing up as the boys grimaced.

"Cool it, kids, let's just go to dinner," Dorcas said, rising gracefully to her feet and taking the hacky-sack from Emmeline before putting it in her bag.

Emmeline still glared at Benjy as we made our way back into the castle, and when we got to the Gryffindor table she sat as far away from him as she could, ignoring his apologies and choosing to engage JJ and Dom in conversation instead.

"So, Pipes, ready for your meeting with the drama freaks tonight?" Alfie asked, and I glared at him from under my lashes as I spooned some stew into my mouth.

Alfie Kim was one of the nicest blokes at Hogwarts, but he had an unnerving knack for picking people apart and dissecting their moods, which annoyed me to no end, and I guess my dread wasn't so easily concealed as I thought it was when I met his dark eyes reluctantly.

"I would rather eat the pus from a snargaluff pod."

"I don't think I've ever heard you so excited about something," he said, and I flicked a couple of peas at him as he sniggered, dodging them so they hit Benjy instead.

"Cheer up, Piper, I don't think it'll be that bad," said Benjy, brushing the peas off his robes and missing the skeptical look I shot him. "Lupin and Pettigrew are only two people, and there're sure to be a dozen more students in that club. You could probably avoid them all term if you tried."

I glanced down the table to where the Marauders and the seventh-year girls had just sat down, and I felt a vindictive sort of pleasure when I saw that Lupin and Pettigrew looked just as miserable as me. Good. If I was going to go down, I'd drag them with me.

At that moment, Lupin looked up and made direct eye contact with me, and when he noticed me already staring at him, he scowled and nearly knocked over his goblet, catching it before it could spill but casting me one last withering look before turning back to his friends.

I huffed in annoyance, staring down at my stew and wondering if it would be too dramatic to start choking on a carrot purposefully. Probably.

"I doubt that," I muttered.


After dinner, I hurried to the third-floor classroom where the meeting was being held, puffing as I jogged down the corridors and wishing I had gotten more in shape this summer as I told myself I was going to do before the holiday started. I was already about five minutes late, but it wasn't entirely my fault; Benjy had hit Emmeline in the head again with the hacky-sack as we were leaving the Great Hall, and I had stopped to watch her go ballistic before realizing that I was going to be late. I wasn't so much worried about Lupin's reaction to my inability to be punctual, but I knew he'd be reporting it to McGonagall, so I had no choice but to hurry.

I found the classroom and barged in, hoping my face wasn't red or blotchy as I began to speak.

"Sorry I'm late, I got lost—"

I stopped dead in my tracks when every head in the room swiveled to face me, and the first thing I noticed was how many people there seemed to be. Benjy had estimated at least a dozen, but there were more like two dozen. Most of them were older students, but there were a few from younger years as well, and my eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when I saw the kid from Fortescue's sitting in a row with his demonic friends staring back and grinning evilly at me. Great. As if my luck couldn't get any worse.

I should really stop wondering that to myself, though. It just seemed like an open invitation for the universe to screw me over more, and I couldn't stop the groan that left my mouth when I looked to the front of the room and saw not only Lupin and Pettigrew, but the smug faces of James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and the rest of their seventh-year cronies looking back at me with petty little smirks.

Lupin stood behind a desk at the front of the room, and I realized that he had been talking before I came careening in.

"Just take a seat, Everlark," he said, and I grudgingly obeyed, finding a seat near the back and plopping down next to a bloke I recognized from my Herbology classes. He was a Hufflepuff, but he was scary big – like, muscles that bulged underneath his uniform and freakishly tall big, with glowering eyes set under thick brows and a permanent scowl etched on his features. I had a feeling his name was Thaddeus Meyers, but from the way he was glaring at me, I didn't want to ask to be sure.

Lupin cleared his throat, and I hastily looked away from the Hufflepuff to tune in to what he was saying, trying to keep the scowl from my face in the hopes that he would give me a good first report back to McG, though I knew my chances were slim.

"Anyway," he said, "Professor Flitwick chose a Muggle playwright over the summer for us to study this term and perform one of his plays before the Christmas holidays, and this year's choice is William Shakespeare."

My ears perked up at this despite my intense dread of even being in this room, but I couldn't help it; my mum loved Shakespeare, and she used to always take me and Archie to go see the shows they put on in the little theater a couple of streets away from our flat, so I was practically raised on this stuff, and I couldn't help being a little excited. Most of the other kids in the room didn't seem to be familiar with the name, however, except for a few Muggle-born students like me, and Lily Evans, who I saw nodding thoughtfully from the front before I remembered she was a Muggle-born, too. Huh. I forgot that despite her high and mighty attitude she came from the same background as me, even though she was obviously privileged and pampered where I, sadly, was not.

"Our choices this year are The Taming of the Shrew, Twelfth Night, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and A Midsummer Night's Dream," Lupin continued, consulting a list on the desk before looking back up to the assembled club members. "Any votes on which one we should perform?"

"Isn't Romeo and Juliet a love story?" Marlene McKinnon piped up. "We could do that one."

She cast a sickening look to Black at this, and I couldn't contain my snort, garnering the attention of almost everyone in the room.

"Yeah, it's a truly beautiful story, once you get past all the dying and the creepy fact that Juliet is only thirteen when Romeo tries to get with her," I said, and McKinnon glared at me, facing back toward the front and tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder when some kids snickered at my words.

"Hamlet would be fun," Evans mused, and I rolled my eyes. If she was looking for 'fun', Hamlet was about the furthest you could get.

Unfortunately, Potter had seen my eye roll, and once again all attention diverted to me when he said, "You got a better idea, Pimply?"

More sniggers at this, but I ignored them. Honestly, I knew Potter wore glasses for a reason, but was he really that blind? I hadn't had pimples in years!

"Hamlet would be fine if we wanted to bore the entire student body out of their minds," I said. "And same with Shrew; you have to look at who our audience is going to be. We're going to be performing this in front of the school; not everyone is going to understand those plays, especially the younger kids. If we want our show to be good, then we have to cater to all the students. And the best plays for that would either be Twelfth Night or A Midsummer Night's Dream."

Silence met my words, and for once, Potter didn't seem to have an argument against me. Even Lupin didn't say anything, but he stared at me as if he didn't know I could speak English.

"She's…right," he said reluctantly, sounding as if he had choked on the words before they came out, and I gave him a brilliant smile that immediately made him scowl back down to his desk. "Er, what would your suggestion be…Everlark?"

He grimaced as he said my name, but my smile only grew wider, and I shook back my hair with an air of superiority that made Black grumble under his breath from the front.

"Midsummer," I said. "It's funny, there's romance," I raised my brows at McKinnon, who only frowned, "and there're plenty of parts for everyone in here. It'll be brilliant."

I could see everyone looking around at each other, nodding along with my words and seeming to consider what I had said, and I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms and lifting my chin haughtily. Day one and I didn't even have to try that hard to make sure everyone was on my side. Well, almost everyone. Most of the seventh years kept casting me black looks, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. Things were finally starting to go my way again.

"All right, let's take it to a vote," Lupin said over the clamor, and it overjoyed me to hear how pained his voice was that he even had to consider one of my ideas. "All in favor?"

Everyone raised their hands, save for the Marauders, Evans, McKinnon, and Alice Fortescue. Mary Macdonald attempted to raise her hand, but Fortescue slapped it down, leaving Macdonald to pout and slump down in her seat.

Lupin looked as if he had aged a day before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's decided, then. Everlark's idea is a go."

I couldn't keep the smile off my face. This year was starting to look a whole lot better.