Sonder

by samisafan

Sonder — noun. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. After a turbulent and eventful summer, Lily Evans is determined to make her sixth year at Hogwarts as drama-free as possible. Part of that plan? Befriending James Potter—if only to make things between them a little less complicated. James, however, has plans of his own.

2. Chapter 2: Petals, Promises, and Prefect

AN: Welcome back! Like I promised, a chapter every week. This one has a lot of story building and conversations. I remember writing this when I was fifteen and the original chapter was...rough to read haha. But I give my inner child grace. I had to change quite a few things but hopefully it all still makes sense. Also I'll start adding recaps at the beginning.

PS: I was the biggest fan of The Life and Times by Jewels5 and I think you can definitely tell her influence on me when I first wrote this story. I am trying to change a few things to make my story have it's own originality but I can even tell now that fifteen year old me was trying really hard (and definitely coming short) to sound like Jewels. She was brilliant and if you haven't read TLAT do yourself a favor and read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own James and Lily or anyone else. But I do love them.

Recap: Lily is determined to avoid drama this year, but immediately notices that James Potter does not pester her as usual. Meanwhile, James, discusses his goals for the year, including Quidditch victories and a newfound strategy to earn a date with Lily. As the first week of classes progresses, tensions emerge—Marlene avoids her friends, Sirius sports a black eye after a fight with Rosier over his brother Regulus, and Lily learns she's been paired with Snape for patrols. The biggest revelation comes when Marlene confesses that she drunkenly kissed Sirius at her sister's wedding that summer. The chapter ends with Lily and James sharing a quiet moment where she asks if they can be friends—James agrees.

---

Chapter 2: Petals, Promises, and Prefects

"A revelation in the light of day. You can't choose what stays and what fades away."

The Ancient Runes classroom was quiet when Lily stepped inside, her shoes clicking softly against the stone floor. Her eyes quickly scanned the room until she spotted Dorcas at the far end, bent over her textbook with her quill poised.

Lily strode over, her voice cutting through the silence. "I forgive you."

Dorcas didn't look up. Her quill continued its steady movement across the page as she replied, "For what exactly?"

"For not telling me your cowardly boyfriend paired me up with you-know-who," Lily said, crossing her arms and fixing her with a pointed glare.

"Voldemort?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Funny."

Dorcas smirked before returning her attention to her notes. "And Kingsley's not a coward. He's just… preoccupied with other things."

"I'm sure," Lily said sarcastically.

"So, are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"The patrol," Dorcas replied.

Lily sighed, brushing a stray strand of red hair from her face. "Do I have much of a choice?"

"You could ask someone to switch," Dorcas suggested with a shrug, leaning back slightly in her chair.

"Yeah," Lily muttered, her voice tinged with resignation as she dropped into the seat beside Dorcas. "Maybe."

---

Lily,

I know you don't want to talk to me. You have every right to be mad. But you could at least hear me out. Just a chance to explain. That's all I ask. Maybe we can talk after the prefect meeting tonight?

-S

---

Remus leaned casually against the wall watching with mild amusement as James hammered a flyer onto the already crowded bulletin board.

"Isn't this kind of last minute?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow as he tilted his head to read the hastily scrawled announcement.

James didn't even pause, his jaw set with determination. "Last minute? No. Strategic. Doing it this way thins out anyone who's not actually qualified for the team."

Behind them, Sirius looked at the flyer, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "Eight in the morning, though?" he groaned. "That's practically the middle of the night, Prongs. And on a Saturday no less. You're not serious."

"I am serious, Padfoot," James replied sharply, stepping back to admire his work, "I don't want a bunch of half-asleep amateurs wasting our time."

Peter snickered. "If anyone shows up at all," he muttered under his breath, earning a quick grin from Sirius.

James turned to face them, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips. "Wormtail, my dear friend, it's not about quantity. It's about quality. Quality over quantity, remember that."

"And how exactly do you plan to find this 'quality' when they're all too tired to fly straight?" Sirius teased.

He shrugged, the confidence radiating off him. "If they can't handle being up at eight, they can't handle being on my team. Simple as that."

Remus exchanged a look with Sirius, who raised an eyebrow and gave a small, amused shake of his head.

"Fair enough. Let's just hope your 'quality over quantity' philosophy doesn't leave you short a Seeker."

James shot them a glare before turning back to adjust the flyer, muttering under his breath. "If it does, I'll just chase the Snitch myself."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, slapping James on the back. "Now that I'd pay to see."

---

GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH TRYOUTS
This Saturday Morning - 8 AM Sharp! Location: The Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch (If you don't know where that is, please don't bother.)

WHO SHOULD TRY OUT:

Gryffindors who are quick, agile, and determined.

Players who actually know what a Quaffle is.

Students serious about winning the House Cup.

WHO SHOULD STAY IN BED:

Hufflepuffs. I know your loyalty is admirable, but this is Gryffindor Quidditch. No, you can't "just join for fun."

Girls here to flirt and not fly. This isn't a social club—it's Quidditch.

POSITIONS AVAILABLE:

Seeker – Got the reflexes and speed necessary? Prove it.

Backup Players – Be ready to fill in at Chaser, Beater, or Keeper. Versatility is a plus.

WHAT TO BRING:

A broom – Yes, you actually need one. This isn't theoretical Quidditch.

A sense of humor – You'll need it.

Skills – Obvious, but apparently worth mentioning.

We're here to win the House Cup, crush Slytherin into oblivion, and maybe even look good doing it. If you think you're Gryffindor material, show up. If not, enjoy your Saturday in bed.

See you Saturday,
James Potter, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain

P.S. If you're late, you'll be trying out while dodging Bludgers. You've been warned.

---

The students were walking back to the castle after Herbology, the chatter of classmates filling the cool afternoon air. Lily quickened her pace, weaving through the crowd until she caught up with Ruben Woodbridge near the entrance.

"Ruben!" she called, breathless as she hurried to his side.

He stopped, turning with a raised brow. "Yes, Lily?"

"Can you take my patrol on Tuesday?" she asked quickly, clasping her hands in front of her.

Ruben sighed, already shaking his head. "Sorry, Lily. I've got tutoring on Tuesday."

"What? You don't need tutoring. You're brilliant. Sure, your Charms could use some work—" she added with a small, apologetic shrug, "—and, well, you're not exactly Slughorn's favorite, but let's be honest, he's impossible to impress. Still, you're doing just fine."

"I'm the one doing the tutoring," Ruben cut in sharply.

"Oh."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Ruben let out a sharp breath. "Look, I can't help you. Find someone else."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and strode off.

---

The Transfiguration classroom was filled with the quiet scratching of quills and the occasional flick of a wand. Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes scanned the rows of students as they worked on their latest assignment.

Lily leaned forward, her voice a desperate whisper. "Faith, please. I'm begging you. You've got to take my patrol on Tuesday."

Faith Li only glanced back briefly, still focused on her parchment. "I can't, Lily. I've got Quidditch practice. If I miss it, Shacklebolt will drop me from the team."

"But it's just one practice!" Lily hissed, clutching her wand tightly. "This is life or death! Okay, not literally, but it feels like it. Please, Faith. I'll owe you forever."

Faith sighed, setting down her quill. "Lily, I get it, but if Kingsley finds out I skipped for anything less than a troll attack, I'm finished. You know how he is."

"Yeah, a robotic dictator," Lily muttered.

Faith snorted, shaking her head. "Sorry, Lily."

"Miss Evans," McGonagall's voice rang out.

Lily froze, her face heating as every head in the room turned to her.

"If you are quite finished gossiping with Miss Li, perhaps you would like to demonstrate the spell we've been working on?" McGonagall's gaze was piercing, one eyebrow arched in that way only she could manage.

"I wasn't–" Lily started but then paused at McGonagall's look. "Yes, professor."

Faith gave her an apologetic shrug, mouthing, Good luck.

---

The Great Hall filled with the usual dinner chatter, students huddled in groups along the long tables, their voices rising and falling in waves. At the Gryffindor table, Marlene watched as Lily sat slumped, barely glancing at the plate of food in front of her. She listlessly pushed her peas from one side of the plate to the other with the tip of her fork, her expression clouded with frustration.

"No luck, huh?" Marlene asked.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Maybe you can ask Remus?" Marlene offered gently. "He's sweet. I bet he'd do it if you explained."

Lily shook her head, her hair falling over her face. "No...if there's someone who probably wants to partner with Severus less than me, it's Remus. I can't do that to him."

Mary and Marlene shared a glance, their lips twitching with restrained amusement.

"Anyway," Mary cleared her throat, clearly deciding it was time for a change in topic, giving the blonde a sly smile. "Marlene, I think you've got an admirer."

"If you're still talking about Black, Mary, I swear—"

"I'm not talking about Sirius," Mary interrupted, grinning mischievously.

Marlene's curiosity piqued despite herself. "Then who?"

Mary's grin widened as she leaned in conspiratorially. Even Dorcas, who had been silently eating beside them, and Lily, still moping, perked up at the sudden shift in conversation.

"Angela told me that Beatrice told her that Julian, the Ravenclaw Beater, overheard Fabian and Gideon Prewett talking. And apparently," Mary paused for dramatic effect, "Fabian thinks you're a very good Chaser on top of being really fit."

"Really?" Marlene's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

All four girls turned in unison to the other end of the table, where Fabian and Gideon Prewett, seventh years, were deep in conversation with James Potter, probably discussing Quidditch as they were both the current Gryffindor Beaters. Marlene's gaze lingered on Fabian. He'd grown into his looks over the past year, his ginger hair—a few shades lighter than Lily's—falling in soft waves.

"Well," Mary interrupted Marlene's thoughts with a teasing smile. "I am expecting a thank you."

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "No one should be thanked for gossiping."

"It's not gossiping. I'm helping a friend," Mary retorted, completely unbothered. She turned back to Marlene. "So, are you going to say yes if he asks you out?"

"Oh, um—"

"Cheating on me already, blondie?" Sirius' voice interrupted as he slid into the seat next to Marlene, a playful grin plastered across his face. "Has our relationship really fallen so low?"

Marlene groaned, rolling her eyes. "I can't cheat on you because we're not dating."

"But…we kissed!" Sirius replied, his tone mockingly wounded.

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"You hurt me, love," Sirius said, clutching his chest dramatically. Then his expression turned sly. "Who is asking you out?"

"Fabian Prewett," Mary answered before Marlene could stop her.

Marlene whipped her head toward Mary, glaring. "Mary!"

"Oh… sorry," Mary muttered, looking sheepish but not particularly remorseful.

"Prewett, huh?" Sirius seemed delighted by the revelation. He stood abruptly, smirking as he turned to shout across the table. "Prewett! Did I mention McKinnon and I hooked up this summer?"

Fabian, Gideon, and James all turned at the sound of Sirius's voice. Fabian looked slightly pink, his expression a mix of confusion and mild embarrassment. "Okay?" He said slowly.

Satisfied, Sirius turned back to Marlene, grinning triumphantly. "That should put a stop to that."

Marlene's eyes widened in disbelief. "But, but–"

Giving her a carefree shrug, Sirius strolled off like a tornado raising havoc in his path and moving right on. He rejoined James and the twins as if nothing had happened. Marlene sat frozen for a moment before turning to Mary, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

Mary offered an innocent smile. "Sorry?"

Marlene let out an exasperated groan and stood abruptly. Without another word, she stormed out of the Great Hall, her blonde hair swinging behind her.

"Well, that went well," Dorcas said dryly, returning to her plate.

---

"So, in conclusion," Kingsley said, his deep voice cutting through the subdued chatter, "patrolling schedules will be given during this meeting on Fridays for the following week. You are not technically allowed to deduct or reward points, but you will be writing reports and submitting them to me or Hestia. During our meetings with the teachers, we'll bring up any detentions or point deductions. Does that make sense?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room as students nodded. The prefects' meeting dragged on. Lily sat in the back beside Remus, her posture stiff as she resolutely avoided looking toward the other side of the room where Severus was seated. She could feel his glances like a physical weight, and her stomach churned at the thought of their upcoming patrol together. Of course, he knew by now. He was probably itching to say something.

"Prats," Lily muttered under her breath as her eyes flicked to the front row, where Faith Li and Ruben Woodbridge sat, both happy as could be. Of course, they didn't need to patrol with their ex-mates.

Meanwhile, Claudia Higgs was conspicuously absent. Maybe she really is sick, Lily mused, though she remained skeptical. Claudia was notoriously self-centered, vicious, and obsessed with baseless gossip. The Slytherin prefect rarely passed up an opportunity to sneer at Lily or her friends. Yet now that Lily thought about it, she hadn't seen Claudia in any of their classes all week. Maybe Kingsley hadn't been lying when he said Claudia was unwell.

"We only have a few minutes left," Hestia announced, her sharp features softened by her calm tone. It occurred to Lily that someone like Hestoa was born to be Head Girl. "Any questions?"

Timothy Wenlock, the Hufflepuff sixth year prefect, raised his hand tentatively.

"Yes, Tim?"

"What if there's trouble during patrol?" he asked. "Who are we expected to contact?"

Hestia nodded. "You are not to engage in any dangerous encounters. Always contact the nearest teacher."

"What if they're already sleeping?"

Kingsley smirked faintly as he answered, "Then you wake them up." There was faint laughter across the room.

Timothy looked appalled. "Wake McGonagall up?"

"If necessary, yes."

"Oh. Okay."

"Any other questions?"

Before she could finish scanning the room, Amos Diggory's hand shot up, though he didn't wait to be called on. "What if patrolling conflicts with, you know, other engagements?"

A ripple of giggles rose from the fifth year girls nearby, and Lily suppressed the urge to laugh. Amos was Hufflepuff's Quidditch captain, and his dimples seemed to have their own fan club.

"You mean Quidditch?" Kingsley asked, his tone amused.

"Read my mind, Shacklebolt," Amos replied with a grin.

Kingsley chuckled. "We'll do our best to accommodate preferences and responsibilities."

"Brilliant." Amos flashed his dimples again, drawing another wave of quiet sighs from his admirers.

Lily slouched lower in her seat, her irritation simmering. Oh sure, for Quidditch they'll accommodate, she thought bitterly.

"Anything else?" Hestia asked, her gaze sweeping over the room. When no one responded, she smiled. "Brilliant. If you have any questions, you can find Kingsley or me in the Head Students' office every afternoon. See you all in a week."

The room erupted into the sounds of chairs scraping and quiet chatter as the prefects began filing out. Lily stayed seated for a moment longer, gripping her notes tightly and doing her best to avoid the knowing look Severus threw her way before he left.

"Long meeting," Remus muttered beside her, stretching his arms as he stood.

"Too long," Lily replied with a sigh, gathering her things and following the rest of the group out of the room.

As Remus and Lily rounded a corner in the quiet corridor, they came to an abrupt halt. Severus was waiting for them, pacing nervously. His dark eyes flickered toward Lily the moment she appeared, and he straightened, stepping into their path.

"Lily, please," he began. "Can we talk?"

Lily looked down, shifting uncomfortably as she tightened her grip on the books in her arms. She was exhausted—exhausted by the endless pursuit, the apologies, and the tension that always seemed to linger between them.

Remus seemed to sense her unease. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and said calmly, "Let's go, Lily."

"Move along, Lupin," Severus snapped, as though noticing Remus for the first time. His tone was sharp, his gaze dismissive.

Remus stepped forward, his expression cool but firm. "Let it go, Severus. She clearly doesn't want to speak to you."

"This is between Lily and me," Severus insisted, his dark eyes narrowing. "Why don't you crawl back to Potter and Black and hide behind them like you usually do? It suits you much better."

"Severus, stop," Lily interrupted.

He turned to her, the fire in his glare dimming.

Lily sighed and turned to Remus, offering a small, reassuring nod. "It's okay, Remus. You can go. I'll be right behind you."

"You sure?"

She nodded. After one last pointed look at Severus, Remus left reluctantly, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"Lily—" Severus started again as soon as Remus was out of sight.

"This has to stop, Sev," she said, cutting him off. "Remus didn't do anything to you."

"He's Potter's little pet, Lily. He's not so innocent," Severus muttered bitterly.

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"What?"

"You said you wanted to talk, so what is it?"

For a moment, Severus seemed to falter, as though he'd forgotten whatever speech he had rehearsed. Clearing his throat, he brushed a strand of black hair out of his face, his demeanor shifting uncomfortably.

"I wanted to say sorry." His voice softened. "I was... tired. After a year of relentless—of Potter and them. Of everyone else. You were annoyed with me or…or at least that's how it felt. I was exhausted and angry. And confused." His words slowed, his tone heavy with regret. "I should never have called you that. It was a stupid, awful mistake. I'm sorry."

Lily watched him carefully. "I was annoyed because you were blowing me off constantly. Avoiding me. I defended you."

"I know," he said, barely audible.

For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. Lily noticed how much taller Severus had grown over the summer, and the thought felt strangely out of place.

"Fine," she said at last, her tone flat. "I forgive you. It was a mistake."

Severus blinked, a flicker of hope lighting up his face. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, though her eyes didn't soften. "But that doesn't mean we can be friends."

His hopeful expression vanished. "But—"

"I'm sorry, Sev," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I have to go."

And before he could say anything else, Lily stepped past him, her pace quickening as she hurried toward the Gryffindor common room. Her chest felt heavy, but she refused to look back.

---

The crisp Saturday morning sunlight poured through the tall windows of Gryffindor Tower as Lily darted out of her dormitory, a pillow flying dangerously close to her head.

"Sorry!" she hissed, clutching her bag tightly as she backed out of the room.

"Go!" Dorcas groaned from under a mountain of blankets, her voice muffled as she buried herself beneath another pillow.

Lily sighed in relief as she shut the door behind her, leaning back against it for a moment. There was nothing quite as terrifying as Dorcas in the morning, and Lily was not about to stick around for round two. She had tried to be quiet while getting ready after her morning run, but the disaster of dropping Book of Spells, Volume 7 on the floor had ruined any chance of stealth. Her roommates were not very appreciative.

With a deep breath, she pushed herself off the door and hurried down the stairs to the common room, combing through her still-damp auburn hair with her fingers.

To her surprise, she found James was already there, leaning casually against the empty fireplace. He was fully dressed in his Quidditch gear, a broomstick in one hand and a leather bag slung over his shoulder. Though his stance was relaxed, the rapid tapping of his foot betrayed his impatience.

"Well, if it isn't Gryffindor's fearless captain," Lily teased, stepping into view.

James turned, his frown melting into a bright, lopsided smile. "Morning, Evans."

"Good morning. Kind of early for practice, isn't it?"

"Tryouts," he corrected, though his grin faltered slightly.

Lily's eyes narrowed as she picked up on the shift in his tone. "What is it?"

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing. Just not my favorite part of the job."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her green eyes. "Why not? Isn't it just flying around and picking the best players?"

James shot her a look, his brow arching dramatically. "I'll have you know that picking the best players takes a lot more effort than just 'flying around.'" He added air quotes with his fingers for emphasis.

"Sorry," Lily gave an apologetic but amused smile.

"But also," James continued, "it's way more chaotic than you'd think. Last year, two Hufflepuffs tried out—don't even ask—and about seven girls who didn't even own brooms. Sirius loved it, obviously."

"Of course. Sirius only plays for the fans, doesn't he?"

"He claims it's for glory, but we all know better."

Lily laughed but then a thought occurred to her as her gaze flickered to the stairs. "Dorcas is still in bed, by the way. I doubt she'll surface anytime soon."

He groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "Perfect. She'll waltz in late and immediately start telling me who I should and shouldn't pick."

"I can go wake her up if you want."

"No, that's alright," James said, shaking his head. "Thank you, though. Maybe it's better we start without her. Fewer opinions flying around."

Lily smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure it'll go splendidly."

James seemed to relax a little at her words. "Where are you off to?" he asked, noticing the bag slung over her shoulder for the first time.

"Tutoring."

"Ah," James grinned. "Who's the lucky youngling?"

"Actually, it's a lucky seventh year, if you can believe that," she said with a laugh.

"Really?"

"Yup." She nodded. "Part of prefect duties and all. And I should probably go."

"Sure…well, good luck, Evans," he said, adjusting his broom on his shoulder.

"You too, Potter." She turned toward the portrait hole but paused, glancing back over her shoulder and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And don't let Dorcas get to you. She's all bark."

James grinned, tipping an imaginary hat. "Noted."

With a final smile, Lily disappeared through the portrait hole, leaving James to face the chaos of Quidditch tryouts on his own. As she made her way down the corridor, she found herself replaying their conversation in her mind. That might have been one of the most pleasant—er, civil—interactions she'd ever had with James Potter.

Lily was mildly surprised by how easily they'd fallen into this new 'friendship', as if the past five years of bickering and snide remarks had never happened. She had always known James was charming—far too charming for his own good—but she was realizing now that he could also be genuinely kind and, dare she admit it, rather likable when he wasn't trying to show off.

It wasn't for nothing that he was so popular, she supposed. People didn't just like him because he was good at Quidditch or because he could make an entire room laugh with one of his ridiculous antics. They liked him because, underneath all that bravado, James Potter was a decent person.

Maybe she should have tried this 'friend' thing a long time ago, Lily thought with a small, wry smile. It would have saved her a lot of headaches. But she was trying it now. And it felt… nice. Very nice.

Lily smiled to herself, her steps light as she headed to the library.

---

The Quidditch pitch had an air of excitement and awkward tension as students milled about, some clutching brooms with determination, others looking like they'd accidentally wandered into the wrong event. James stood on the bleachers, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the motley group assembled before him.

"They're… er… something," Sirius muttered under his breath, leaning casually against the railing next to James.

"At least there are no Hufflepuffs," Marlene chimed in.

James sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Small mercies, I suppose," he mumbled.

The group of hopefuls wasn't exactly inspiring confidence. A few looked like they might have potential, but the rest seemed more interested in basking in the glory of the Gryffindor Quidditch team rather than actually playing.

"Alright!" James called out, his voice ringing across the pitch.

The chatter died down as the students shuffled nervously, taking their seats on the bleachers. Some clutched their brooms tightly, while others fiddled with their robes or stared off into the distance.

James stepped forward confidently. "I'll start by saying this. Most of our positions are already filled, as you might know. We're looking for a new Seeker and taking on backups for other roles. Backups will attend every practice and need to be ready to step in if needed. And if you're good enough, maybe I'll even let you play a game. But no promises."

"I love it when you're authoritative," Sirius murmured with a smirk.

James didn't even glance at him. "We'll run a set of tests in groups of three. Each group will be partnered with one of our current team members." He gestured to his right, where Sirius, Marlene, Fabian, and Gideon stood. "Results will be posted Monday morning, and our first practice is that afternoon. Do your best, and good luck."

As the groups began shuffling and organizing themselves, James turned to his team, lowering his voice. "I'll be going around to watch and take notes, but if there's anything worth mentioning, let me know."

"Oh, it's worth mentioning how glorious Marlene looks this morning," Sirius quipped, grinning. "Really, those eyebags? Stunning."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "It's worth mentioning that I've decided to ignore you, Black."

"And you're already doing a fantastic job, blondie," Sirius shot back, undeterred.

"Bite me."

"Kinky."

James clapped his hands together, cutting in before things could escalate further. "Alright, that's enough. Just… try to act put together in front of everyone, okay? Let's keep some dignity here. Now, go. Let's get this over with."

Once tryouts began, James wove through the chaos on the pitch, clipboard in hand, his patience thinning by the second. Groups of hopeful players were scattered across the field, fumbling through obstacles, tossing Quaffles like toddlers at a piñata, and attempting to dodge rogue Bludgers.

"Upside down," James muttered, pointing his quill toward a wiry second year who was attempting to mount his broom the wrong way.

The boy paused, looking utterly baffled. "What?"

"Your broom," James groaned. "You're holding it upside down."

The boy stared blankly, adjusting it halfway before a Bludger whizzed by, narrowly missing him and sending him wobbling precariously in mid-air.

James buried his face in his clipboard.

Further along, a fifth year flailed at a Quaffle, missed spectacularly, and nearly toppled off their broom in the process. Sirius's bark of laughter echoed across the pitch, followed by a loud, "You'll get it next time!" which only made the poor kid turn a brighter shade of red.

When James finally reached Fabian's group, his mood lifted slightly. Fabian stood calmly, one hand resting on his broom and the other casually swinging a Beater's bat like it was an extension of himself. A girl zipped through the obstacle course with practiced ease, her short brown hair bouncing as she maneuvered through the hoops with precision.

"Who's that?" James asked, genuinely interested for the first time that morning.

"Clara Torres," Fabian replied, his tone easy as he watched her finish the course flawlessly. "Transfer. Fifth year. From Spain, I think. Quiet, but she's got skills. Could be a decent Chaser."

James scribbled her name onto his clipboard. "Thank Godric."

Satisfied, James moved on, clipboard tucked under his arm, to Marlene's group. He spotted her hovering mid-air, her golden hair gleaming in the sunlight as she barked instructions at a group of nervous flyers. One boy, a gangly fourth year, wobbled dangerously as he reached for a Quaffle.

"Steady!" Marlene called, her tone sharp but encouraging.

The boy overcorrected, veering wildly to the left before colliding directly into Marlene.

Her broom wobbled, but she recovered in an instant, shooting the boy a glare that could melt steel. "What are you doing?!"

"I—I didn't mean to!"

Before Marlene could reply, Sirius swooped in from the adjacent group, his grin already in place. "Careful there, mate," he said lazily, leaning on his broom. "Marlene's got a bit of a temper. But, to be fair, she looks stunning when she's mad."

Marlene spun to face him, her glare now aimed squarely at Sirius. "Sirius, I swear—"

"See?" Sirius interrupted, gesturing toward her as if proving his point.

The fourth year boy wisely decided to slink away.

Marlene let out a frustrated groan. "Go away, Black."

"Thought you were ignoring me?" Sirius replied, still grinning.

"I forgot it's like ignoring a Cornish Pixie. You're a pest."

"Aw, that's mean," Sirius said, clutching his chest in mock offense.

"Go. Away."

"Not a chance," he replied cheerfully.

Before Marlene could lunge at him, James flew closer, wedging himself between the two. "Alright, that's enough," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. He turned to Marlene. "Take a break, McKinnon. Go cool off for a bit."

"I'm fine," she snapped, though the way her knuckles were white against her broomstick suggested otherwise.

"Marlene," James repeated, his tone stern.

With an exaggerated huff, she spun her broom toward the bleachers and flew off, landing heavily on the wooden stands. James watched as she flopped down and crossed her arms, her glare now directed at the pitch.

Sirius leaned in closer, his voice low and amused. "You're going to have to deal with that one later."

"Yeah, thanks for making it worse," James muttered, rolling his eyes.

Sirius shrugged, his grin only widening as he casually flew back to his group.

James sighed and scribbled a note on his clipboard: Keep Sirius away from Marlene.

---

Marlene sat slumped on the bleachers, her broom discarded to the side and her gloves clenched tightly in her lap. Her hair stuck to her forehead as the warm September sun beat down on the pitch, mingling unpleasantly with the heat of her frustration. She tore off the gloves and threw them onto the bench beside her with a growl.

She was going to Azkaban. It wasn't a matter of if—it was when. Because sooner or later, she was going to kill Sirius Black.

"You alright?"

The unexpected voice startled her, and she turned sharply to find Remus Lupin sitting a couple of steps above her, a book balanced on his knee. She had been too blinded to notice him until then. His hair was shaggy as usual, his face a little pale despite the sunlight warming his features.

Marlene scowled. "Your mate is insane."

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Which one? Though I suppose it doesn't matter. They're all kind of insane in their own way."

"Black, of course," she snapped, crossing her arms.

"Ah," Remus said with a knowing smile. "Yes, he's… special."

"Special?" Marlene repeated, her voice rising with indignation. "He belongs in an asylum!"

Remus chuckled softly, the sound light and unbothered. "Yeah, probably."

"And James, too," she added for good measure, throwing her hands up in exasperation. That earned her a bemused look. Remus clearly found this entire situation hilarious. Marlene sighed and slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She didn't know why she was venting to Remus Lupin of all people, but her frustration spilled out anyway. "Sirius just won't leave me alone."

"I find with Sirius that the more you show he annoys you, the less likely he is to give up."

"I tried ignoring him. It's impossible."

Remus shook his head slightly. "No. Don't ignore him—let him know that whatever he's doing doesn't bother you."

The blonde turned her head to give him a skeptical look. "Easy for you to say. You're not getting harassed."

He leaned back slightly, his smile softening. "I've dealt with Sirius Black far longer than you," he pointed out.

She tilted her head. "That's another thing—why does everyone always refer to him as Sirius Black? You know, with first and last name. Like he's the Minister of Magic or Merlin himself. He's not some famous Quidditch player or star. Sirius Black isn't that important."

Remus's lips twitched, and before Marlene could blink, he broke into a full fit of laughter. His quiet chuckle turned into something louder, filling the space between them. Marlene frowned at first, but the sound was infectious, and soon she found herself laughing too, despite her simmering irritation.

When the laughter subsided, Remus leaned forward, closing his book and resting it on his knee. He regarded her for a moment, his brown eyes thoughtful. "If it helps…I can try talking to him."

She looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Sure," he said with a smile. "Though, I'll preface with the fact that Sirius rarely listens to anyone. But I'll give it my best shot."

For the first time that morning, Marlene felt a flicker of hope. She stood and looked at Remus, her frustration ebbing slightly. "That would be amazing. Thank you, Remus."

"No problem," he said, leaning back on his elbows with an easy grin.

"Marlene!"

She turned to see James calling out to her from the pitch.

"I have to go," she said quickly, standing and pulling her gloves back on. She grabbed her broom, mounting it with her usual ease. "Thank you again!"

Before Remus could respond, she shot into the air, her golden hair catching the sunlight as she flew off toward the pitch. Remus watched her go, shaking his head with quiet amusement before returning to his book.

There was hope, Marlene thought as the wind rushed past her face. Remus was a Marauder, after all. And despite what he said, Sirius obviously respected his opinion—at least more than he respected hers. Maybe she wouldn't end up in Azkaban after all.

---

The library was quiet, save for the occasional shh from Madam Pince, the librarian who seemed to harbor an unspoken grudge against every student who dared enter her domain. A handful of early risers were scattered around, their noses buried in books, fully unaware that the majority of them would forget most of what they read by lunchtime.

Lily found a spot at an empty table, unpacking her supplies meticulously as she usually did. Tutoring wasn't just a prefect duty for her—it was something she genuinely enjoyed. Helping others gave her a sense of purpose, even if some students were a bit more challenging than others. She had even entertained the idea of becoming a teacher one day, maybe even at Hogwarts, but she wasn't entirely sure she'd be good enough.

"Excuse me."

Lily's thoughts were interrupted by a small voice, and she turned to find a young girl standing in front of her. The girl's brown hair was large and a bit tousled, and her wide blue eyes were darting nervously from Lily to the table.

"Yes?" Lily asked, smiling politely.

"Are you any good at Potions?" The girl asked, timidly.

Lily blinked. "Uh, I suppose so."

"Great." The girl's face immediately brightened, and she slid into the seat beside Lily, slamming a textbook onto the table with an energy that she was previously hiding.

"My name's Ella," she said, suddenly much more confident. "My Potions partner, this boy named Henry, is currently hiding in the boys' bathroom, covered in the most horrific pimples you've ever seen."

"Pimples?" Lily asked, a bit taken aback.

"Big ones," Ella clarified.

"Why is he covered in pimples?"

"Oh, I hexed him."

Lily's eyes widened. "You hexed him?"

"Yeah," Ella said, waving it off casually. "But only because he said I couldn't possibly do our assignment right on the first try, and I told him I could, and he said no, and I said 'Want to bet?' and he said yes. So I hexed him. Only I thought I was giving him one pimple, not one hundred."

Lily blinked again, momentarily speechless. "Ella, that's—"

"Yeah, it's a lot," Ella continued, not missing a beat. "So we brewed the potion, but instead of fixing things, it made them worse."

"Worse?"

"A lot worse," Ella said with a frown. "The pimples got bigger, and he ran to the bathroom. He's been in there since last night. I'm trying to fix the potion now, but something's wrong, and I can't figure it out. I've been here since five this morning, trying to find a solution, but this place is more of a maze than a library if you ask me."

Lily suppressed a smile. "That's… dedication."

"I'm getting nowhere!" Ella flipped through the book with frustration, pointing at the instructions. "The cure is supposed to fume pink, but mine's looking more… viciously red."

Lansing in to inspect the book, Lily recognized it as the first year's Book of Potions. "Hmm, let me take a look." She scanned the instructions and paused. "I think it's here. When you add the Shrake Spines, you might have over-mixed them. You're supposed to just stir them lightly, or you might risk overstimulating them."

Ella's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh! That could totally be it. I was so nervous, I rushed through everything."

"Yeah, rushing isn't the best thing to do while brewing a potion," Lily added.

"Thank you so much," Ella said, beaming. "What's your name?"

"Lily. Lily Evans."

Ella glanced at the books on the table, her curiosity piqued. "Are you studying for the N.E.W.T.s?"

Lily shook her head. "No, I'm in Sixth Year. I'm tutoring a seventh year who'll be taking them this year."

"You're tutoring a Seventh Year?" Ella's voice was full of awe. "You must be really smart. And you're really pretty. You definitely have a boyfriend. I wanted Henry to become my boyfriend but I doubt that's going to happen now."

Laughing, Lily found the girl's frankness refreshing. "Not that it's any of your business, but I don't."

"You don't?" Ella's eyes widened in disbelief. "Well, if you can't get a boyfriend, what are the chances for the rest of us?"

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have a potion to brew, Ella?"

"Oh! Right!" Ella snapped to attention, remembering what she'd come for. "Thanks again, Lily Evans!" With a quick smile, she bolted out of the library, leaving Madam Pince's shh trailing behind her.

Lily chuckled to herself, watching the whirlwind of a girl dash away. Hogwarts students were certainly never dull.

"Who was that?" A voice asked as they slid into the seat across from Lily.

The redhead turned around, her smile instantly replaced with a frown. "You're late," she said flatly.

Amos Diggory, ever the picture of charm with his perfectly styled hair and his glimmering gray eyes, flashed a sheepish grin. "Apologies, I went to sleep late. Had a horrible time trying to get up."

Lily sighed, already accustomed to his antics. "Let's just get started, shall we?" She pushed a textbook toward him.

"Anything you say, boss." Amos leaned in, his dimples making a brief appearance. "So, how was your summer?"

Lily set to organizing the material she had brought. "It was fine... uneventful."

"Mmm." Amos leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head as he began to recount his own summer. "Mine was good, too. Went to a couple of Quidditch matches, some summer parties, went to the beach—where I got this perfectly looking tan, if you were curious."

Lily glanced up at him, smiling without meaning to. "I wasn't. But thank you for telling me anyway."

"There's that smile." Amos grinned, looking pleased with himself. "I've missed that smile."

Lily's cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked down at her books to hide it. "Amos, we said no flirting, remember?"

"Who's flirting? I'm just stating a fact."

She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'm here to help you pass your classes so you can keep playing Quidditch. That's our agreement, remember?"

"Well, we had another agreement as well," Amos said nonchalantly, leaning forward just a little, his voice dropping. "I would stop flirting if you went on a date with me."

"And I did."

"One measly Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks doesn't count."

Lily busied herself with organizing the parchments in front of her, pretending to ignore him.

"Come on, Lils." He leaned in again, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "It's my last year at Hogwarts."

Lily fought the urge to roll her eyes at his overdramatic tone. She'd been tutoring Amos Diggory for over a year now, starting halfway through her fourth year when his grades had nearly cost him his spot on the Quidditch team. Despite the occasional frustration, she genuinely enjoyed their sessions. Amos wasn't lazy or unintelligent—he just needed the right kind of motivation.

It wasn't until last year, though, that Amos's feelings had taken a shift. For the longest time, he'd been completely devoted to his girlfriend, Jen. But when Jen had ended things to "explore other options," Amos had been heartbroken. Lily had lent her ear for him to talk, and, in that space, a harmless little crush had developed. It hadn't been anything serious. Or so she told herself.

She took a deep breath and refocused, trying to shut down the thoughts she didn't want to entertain. "Why don't we focus on getting you past the first round of exams, and maybe we can talk about a date afterwards?"

Across from her, Amos's face broke into a triumphant grin, clearly pleased by the suggestion, even if it had been on her terms. "Sure." He winked. "Whatever you say, boss."

Lily just shook her head, hiding her smile behind the papers in front of her. Right. Just a little motivation.

---

Kingsley found Dorcas swiftly at lunch, sliding into the bench next to her.

"So, how were tryouts?" he asked, reaching for a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Dorcas sighed dramatically, stabbing her fork into a roasted potato. "Don't get me started. I got there just a little late, and Potter had already started without me. Then, when I told him who I think shouldn't make the team, he had the nerve to say I should've been there earlier if I wanted my opinion to count. I swear, the day he was made captain was the day we were doomed."

Kingsley chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "He's just passionate."

"He's a jerk," Dorcas muttered, shaking her head.

"So," Kingsley said, his tone casual, "any promising new players joining the team?"

Dorcas raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you using me to get insider information on the Gryffindor team, Shacklebolt?"

"Me? Never," he replied, feigning innocence, a hand pressed dramatically to his chest.

Dorcas smiled despite herself, though she still rolled her eyes. As she turned back to her plate, something—or rather, someone—caught her attention near the entrance to the hall.

"Isn't that Claudia Higgs?" she asked, her tone suddenly sharp.

Kingsley turned to look. "Yeah."

"I thought she was supposed to be sick. She doesn't look sick."

She wasn't wrong. Claudia, walking past the Ravenclaw table toward her own, had a noticeable spring in her step. Her laughter carried across the room, sharp and mocking, as she exchanged some cutting remark with Narcissa Black.

"Hey, Higgs!" Dorcas called out, her voice loud enough to cut through the lunchtime chatter of the Great Hall.

Kingsley turned back to her, his brows knitting together. "What are you doing?"

Claudia stopped mid-step, her sharp grin still plastered on her face. She turned toward the Ravenclaw table, but her attention was clearly focused on Kingsley. "If it isn't our dashing Head Boy," she cooed, her voice sugary sweet. "How are you?"

Kingsley wisely said nothing, his expression carefully neutral. It was Dorcas who spoke, her tone flat and unimpressed. "I thought you told Kingsley you were sick. You look pretty healthy to me—healthy enough to do your patrol on Tuesday, even."

The Slytherin's smile faltered ever so slightly, and she finally deigned to look at Dorcas. "Not that it's any of your business, Meadows, but I have a session with Pomfrey on Tuesday, and I can't miss it."

Dorcas tilted her head. "Oh, I didn't realize Madam Pomfrey was doing aesthetic work now. Fixing that pointed chin, finally?"

Claudia's hand shot to her chin reflexively, her face twisting into a scowl. "You're a loser, Meadows," she snapped before turning on her heel and stalking off toward her table.

Kingsley watched her retreat, an eyebrow raised. "That was kind of unnecessary."

"Claudia Higgs is a horrible person," Dorcas said with a casual shrug, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. "She deserves it."

He didn't look convinced, his frown lingering as he turned back to his plate. The rest of their lunch passed in quieter conversation. Dorcas, however, remained entirely unbothered.

---

The Gryffindor girls were enjoying a rare, leisurely Sunday breakfast at the house table, the Great Hall bathed in late morning light.

"Look at her," Dorcas said, nodding subtly toward the Slytherin table, where Claudia Higgs sat with a smug expression. "She doesn't look sick at all."

"You're right," Lily agreed, eyeing Claudia skeptically over her toast.

"I don't know," Mary said thoughtfully, swirling her spoon in her tea. "I heard she was admitted to St. Mungo's most of the summer."

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you know that?"

"How does Mary know anything?" Marlene interjected. "She's basically our Master of Whispers."

Mary preened at the title, flipping her hair as if she'd just been handed an award. "Thank you, Marls."

"I'm still mad at you, you know? For telling Sirius about Fabian."

"So you do like Fabian?"

No, but that's not the point."

"I already said sorry," Mary shrugged, unbothered. "Not sure what much more you want me to do."

"That has to be serious, though, right?" Lily interrupted, her brow furrowing. "If she was at St. Mungo's for that long?"

"Or she's lying," Dorcas countered, stabbing at her eggs with unnecessary vigor.

"Definitely not lying," Mary said with an exaggerated shake of her head. "My source is very credible."

"And who's your source, exactly?" Dorcas pressed.

Mary raised her chin dramatically. "I couldn't possibly say. Confidentiality is key in my line of work."

Dorcas groaned, rolling her eyes so hard they could've been seen from the Slytherin table. "You're impossible."

At that moment, the Marauders strolled past, laughing loudly as they made their way toward the exit. Sirius Black, ever the showman, paused to blow an exaggerated kiss in Marlene's direction. Marlene's expression shifted. Then, catching sight of a taller, quieter figure further back, her demeanor brightened considerably.

"Hi, Remus!"

Remus glanced her way, offering a polite smile and a small wave before hurrying to catch up with his friends.

Lily turned to Marlene curiously. "You seem to be in a better mood. Finally work things out with Sirius?"

"Not exactly," Marlene said with a sly smile, delicately buttering her toast. "But I'm hopeful he'll be moving on. Soon."

Mary and Lily exchanged a quick amused look. Dorcas, oblivious, muttered something about boys being ridiculous and went back to her breakfast.

---

"I'm just saying..." Remus kept his tone patient, as Sirius and him strolled down the corridor, their voices echoing slightly in the empty space. "You could back off a little bit."

Sirius grinned, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "What are you saying, my dear Moony?" He asked with mock innocence. "I'm just getting started. McKinnon has no idea what she's gotten herself into."

Remus let out a sigh, his eyes briefly darting to the ceiling as if asking for divine intervention. "If you keep going, she's never actually going to fancy you."

"And why would I want her to fancy me?"

Remus frowned. "Because you fancy her?"

"I don't fancy her," Sirius said breezily, as though the idea was absurd.

"What?" Remus stopped walking, his confusion written plainly across his face.

Sirius stopped a few steps ahead, turning back to face him with an almost pitying look. "McKinnon. I don't fancy her."

"But you kissed her," Remus said, gesturing as if that clarified everything. "And you…banter. There's tension there."

"Merlin, Moony, don't be a prude," Sirius said, smirking as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Just because we kissed doesn't mean we're going to get married."

Remus stared at him, utterly baffled. "Then why are you being so insistent?"

"Because it's hilarious," Sirius said simply, his grin widening.

"That's…" Remus searched for the right word, his brow furrowed. "Psychotic."

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "Never said it made sense," he said, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He flashed one last grin at Remus as he started down the corridor again. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to detention. See you later."

Remus watched him go, shaking his head as he muttered under his breath, "Absolutely mental."

---

Detention was familiar territory for Sirius Black. By the third day of his first year at Hogwarts, he'd already secured his first one—and just like the one he was serving now, it had involved a Slytherin. His hatred for that house had only grown since.

From the moment he could walk, Sirius had been told that all respectable members of the Black family were sorted into Slytherin. It was a family tradition, as immutable as their motto or the tapestry of pureblood lineage hanging in Grimmauld Place. Sirius had never been particularly interested in traditions. He, being the careless child he was, didn't give it much thought until James Potter—a boy he'd met and immediately decided would be his best mate—painted a picture of Gryffindor life that sounded infinitely more fun. And just like that, Sirius decided he wouldn't be a Slytherin after all.

The Sorting Hat, fortunately, had agreed. The fallout was immediate. His family had been horrified, Bellatrix cursed him the next chance she got, and his mother declared him a disgrace to the Black name. Sirius, for his part, wore the title like a badge of honor.

So here he was, seated in the Transfiguration classroom for yet another detention, facing a towering pile of Hogsmeade permission slips. Professor McGonagall stood nearby, regal as ever in her pointed hat and dark robes.

"You look absolutely stunning today, Professor," Sirius said, flashing her his most charming grin.

"Spare me your flattery, Mr. Black," she replied curtly, dropping an odd-looking magnifying glass onto the desk. "Use this to check the signatures. If the slip is legitimate, mark it as approved. If it's not, note the failure and separate it from the pile."

"Ah, so that's how you do it," Sirius said, impressed.

McGonagall merely raised a brow. "Is that clear?"

"Crystal." Sirius grabbed the first slip with a flourish and got to work.

The task quickly proved tedious. Signature after signature passed the test, and Sirius found himself very bored as he hit the halfway mark. It wasn't until he reached Rosa J. Dorne's slip that the magnifying glass revealed something interesting. Words shimmered over the parchment: Not a real signature. Forged by a friend.

Sirius chuckled, earning a warning glance from McGonagall. He marked it as a failure and added it to the discard pile, muttering, "Brilliant."

The classroom door creaked open, and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered with a sulking Evan Rosier in tow.

"Apologies for the interruption, Professor," Kingsley began. "Caught Rosier trying to coerce a Hufflepuff into giving him their common room password."

Sirius sat up straight, unable to hide his grin. "Shocking," he said, his tone dripping with mock outrage.

"Focus, Black," McGonagall said sharply before turning to Rosier. "Take a seat."

Rosier slumped into the desk beside Sirius, his scowl deepening. Sirius, naturally, couldn't resist.

"So," he said, leaning over with a sly grin, "come here often?"

"Bugger off, Black."

"Ooh, bad day?" Sirius replied, smirking.

"Mr. Black," McGonagall interjected, her voice sharp. "Back to work." She handed Rosier a bundle of broom handles. "You'll be trimming these for Madam Hooch. Mr. Shacklebolt, come with me to fetch the cleaning supplies."

As soon as the door closed behind McGonagall and Kingsley, Sirius burst into laughter.

"You think this is funny?" Rosier snapped.

"Absolutely," he replied, still grinning. "What were you doing in Hufflepuff? Wait, don't tell me. Got a girlfriend?"

Rosier's glare sharpened. "None of your business, traitor."

Sirius shrugged, unfazed. "Boyfriend, then? Very forward-thinking of you."

"Shut it, traitor," Rosier snarled, his fists clenching.

"Aw, don't be shy," he teased, leaning back in his chair. "Unless… wait. It's Diggory, isn't it? I mean I don't blame you, he's rather dashing."

Rosier shot to his feet, grabbing Sirius by the collar. His voice dropped to a venomous hiss. "You and your filthy little gang of mudbloods and traitors won't be laughing for long."

"Mr. Rosier!" McGonagall's voice rang out as she reentered the room, her glare piercing. "Ten points from Slytherin. Sit down immediately."

Rosier obeyed, seething, as Sirius adjusted his robes with a satisfied smirk. He picked up the next permission slip, his grin widening when he saw the name scrawled across it and he knew exactly what he would write on the list.

With great satisfaction, he scribbled: Evan Rosier—Failed. Forged signature himself with a stolen quill.

---

On Monday morning, Lily's mind was far from the bubbling cauldron in front of her or the intricate potions assignment she was meant to be completing. Her focus was elsewhere—on the letter she'd received from her mother at breakfast. Normally, her mother's letters were a source of comfort, little windows into home life that brightened her day. But not this one.

The news was grim. Apparently, Petunia had overheard Vernon's sister, Marge, gossiping about her brother's plans to ask their mother for the Dursley family ring. According to Petunia, this could only mean one thing: Vernon was planning to propose.

Her mother had broken the news gently, describing it with as much optimism as she could muster, though Lily knew Mrs. Evans wasn't fond of Vernon. It wasn't hard to see why—Vernon was loud, narrow-minded, and unkind in ways that stung more than they should. But he made Petunia happy, and Lily's mother, ever gracious, put her daughter's happiness above her personal misgivings.

Lily, however, wasn't nearly as forgiving. The idea of Vernon Dursley joining the family made her skin crawl. But worse than that, Petunia hadn't told her about the engagement herself. It had come through a secondhand letter, and Lily doubted she'd hear it from her sister anytime soon. A small, bitter pang of hurt lodged itself in Lily's chest. She thought about writing a reply to Petunia but knew she wouldn't. What would she even say?

Lily sat absentmindedly slicing her ingredients while her thoughts churned. She glanced across the room to her old desk partner. Severus was hunched over his cauldron. Evan Rosier stood beside him, looking entirely uninterested in the task at hand.

Dorcas nudged Lily. "Earth to Lily. Pass me the ginger root."

Snapping out of it, Lily grabbed the bowl and handed it over.

"Look who's finally back in class," Dorcas muttered, nudging her head towards another table. Claudia Higgs was busy cleaning a stain from her tie. "Are you going to try to talk to her about the patrol?"

"I don't know," Lily sighed. "If she is truly sick, I don't want to be insensitive."

"Please," Dorcas said. "The most she can have is an acute avoidance of responsibilities. How some people become prefects is beyond me."

Lily managed a faint smile but glanced again toward Severus. He slapped Rosier's hand away from his meticulously sliced ingredients, muttering something that made Rosier scowl.

"Okay," Lily said, her voice distracted. "Maybe I will talk to her."

---

The flowers had actually been charming—at first. They originated from a grand bouquet of roses and carnations, enchanted to float around Marlene wherever she went. At breakfast, the blooms trailed behind her like loyal pets, spreading their sweet fragrance and turning heads. Girls in the Great Hall sighed wistfully, murmuring about how romantic it was, wishing their own boyfriends had such grand ideas.

By mid-morning, however, the charm had completely worn off—at least for Marlene.

In the library, the floating flowers became an outright nuisance. Every time she swatted at them, they scattered petals across her study notes. Madam Pince reprimanded her with a sharp "McKinnon, control yourself!" Fuming and muttering curses under her breath, Marlene gathered her belongings and stormed out, the flowers trailing behind her like cheerful but unrelenting shadows.

By lunchtime, she'd had enough. The flowers were no longer a sweet gesture but a relentless torment. She tried everything to lose them—darting down hallways, catching moving staircases, even locking herself in a broom cupboard. But the flowers always found her, waiting patiently outside closed doors and even fluttering outside the bathroom window.

Now, in full retreat, Marlene sprinted through the castle courtyard, shouting, "Out of the way!" The flowers, now seemingly emboldened by her attempts to escape, raced after her with relentless determination. She hurdled over a low wall, nearly tripping over her own feet, and shoved past a bewildered first year, scattering their books and parchment.

"Sorry!" she yelled over her shoulder, not breaking stride.

Reaching the castle gates, she slammed them shut behind her and leaned against the heavy wood, panting. The sharp stems of roses thudded against the other side. For a brief moment, she thought she'd won. But then, through the corner of her eye, she caught a flutter of pink petals sneaking in through an open window.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" she groaned, taking off again.

Her legs burned, her patience frayed, and she was running out of options. Turning a corner in desperation, she shoved open the nearest door and slipped inside, slamming it shut behind her. Leaning against it, she struggled to catch her breath.

"I'm going to kill Sirius sodding Black," she muttered between gasps.

"Going to be hard proving you're innocent after that," a calm voice drawled.

Marlene's head snapped up to see Remus sitting on the edge of a bed in the Hospital Wing, his expression a mix of amusement and concern.

She straightened, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair from her face. "Your mate sent murderous—" she inhaled sharply, "vicious and bloodthirsty plants after me."

"He's only my mate when he's not being a complete idiot—which, admittedly, is rare," Remus replied with a faint smile.

"Hilarious," Marlene muttered, rolling her eyes. She walked toward him, still catching her breath. "I thought you said you were going to talk to him?"

"I did," he said, scratching the back of his head. "But, uh…he didn't really care."

"What do you mean, he didn't care?"

"I told you, Sirius rarely ever listens to anyone."

She stepped closer to him. "But if you could only try again, I know somewhere in that thick head of his, Sirius respects you." Before Remus could reply, Marlene looked around, realizing for the first time she was in the Hospital Wing. "What are you doing here? You alright?"

"Oh yeah. Just getting a potion," Remus replied promptly. "For a headache. Madam Pomfrey just went to fetch it. Did you need anything from her?"

Marlene stepped back and sighed. "No, just needed somewhere to hide."

"From the flowers," Remus said bemused.

"Vicious, enchanted, overly persistent flowers."

Remus tried to hide a laugh but couldn't so Marlene walked to him determined. "It's not funny. You said you would help me. You have to help me, Remus."

She reached out and grabbed his hand with both of hers.

Remus froze under her touch, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I—I don't know what I can do. Sirius doesn't exactly listen to reason. If anything, the more you push back, the more determined he gets."

Marlene groaned, releasing his hand and pacing in front of him. "But there has to be something. And I know you know." She pointed an accusing finger at the Gryffindor prefect. "I am desperate. What do you want? Gold? I can pay you. Or…or I can do your homework. Although you're definitely smarter than me. That might not work."

The witch tapped her chin as if considering her options before suddenly brightening. "Oh! I know!" she exclaimed, stepping closer to him, her blue eyes alight with determination. "I can help you get a date! If there's a girl you like, I can—"

"No," Remus interrupted firmly, hopping off the bed and putting distance between them. "I mean…I don't know how I would help you. Sirius is, well…Sirius. He's stubborn."

Marlene stared at him, her hopeful expression slowly giving way to resignation.

After a long moment, she sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. "Yeah," she muttered, almost to herself. "I know. You're right."

Remus' gaze dropped to his hands as if the answer might be etched into his palms. He hesitated, but finally spoke, his voice quiet and measured. "Maybe…maybe there's something we can do."

The blonde spun to face him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, but a spark of anticipation lit within them. "Yeah?" she asked, trying to temper her hope. "Like what?"

"I don't know," he admitted honestly but when Marlene frowned Remus quickly continued. "But if we put our heads together I'm sure we can think of something."

Marlene's frown melted into a wide smile, the kind of smile that seemed to light up her entire face. She took a step closer, the energy in her movements palpable.

"Oh, Remus, you're brilliant!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in an impulsive hug.

Remus chuckled softly. "Don't thank me yet."

"Maybe we can meet later today - wait, I can't, Quidditch practice - tomorrow! We'll need to meet and come up with a proper plan."

"Sure," he nodded. "That sounds good."

Marlene beamed, her earlier frustration seemingly forgotten. "You're the best, Lupin."

Madam Pomfrey came in at that moment, surprised to find Marlene there. She asked if she needed anything and announced to Remus that his potion was ready. Not wanting to be a bother, as Marlene knew she could often be, she decided to retreat, thanking Remus again and bidding Pomfrey goodbye.

---

Practice was a disaster.

James had spent the better part of his weekend holed up in the common room, parchment spread out across the table as he agonized over the final Gryffindor Quidditch team roster. He selected a couple of players as the backups. The Seeker, though? That had been more difficult. No one had truly shined at tryouts. In a moment of desperation, James had made the mistake of asking Sirius for input.

"Pick that cute fifth year. Haley or Hally or something."

"She literally couldn't stay on the broom for more than thirty seconds, Sirius."

"But she looked good while struggling."

And that had been the end of James consulting anyone else for advice.

By Monday, the roster was finalized, and James called the team together on the pitch for their first practice of the season. He clapped his hands to gather their attention, the bright afternoon sun gleaming off his glasses.

"Finally everyone please welcome Paul Podmore, our new Seeker." He gestured toward the scrawny fourth year standing nervously at the edge of the group. Paul had been the only one at tryouts who had actually caught the Snitch—though he'd crashed into a goalpost doing it.

Polite applause rippled through the team, and Sirius stepped forward with his trademark grin, clapping Paul on the back so hard the boy nearly toppled over.

"Well done, Polly!"

"Er… please don't call me Polly," Paul mumbled, though his voice was so soft no one heard him.

James cleared his throat, drawing the attention back to himself.

"This year, I don't just want to win the House Cup—I want to win every single game," he said, his voice firm. The players exchanged uncertain glances, but James pressed on, undeterred.

"I know what you're thinking. Why is that necessary? Well, I'll tell you. This is our legacy. I want Gryffindor to dominate the pitch. I want to be the best. So starting now, you lot are no longer just Gryffindors." He straightened his shoulders, his hazel eyes sharp. "I want us to be more hardworking than any Hufflepuff, more clever than the Ravenclaws, and hungrier for the win than the Slytherins."

"A bit dramatic, aren't we?" Dorcas quipped.

James ignored her.

He outlined his plan for the season: physical training three times a week, tactical sessions twice a week, and simulations every practice. The team groaned but didn't argue.

Things started off well enough. The team took to running ten laps around the pitch, with James leading the pack. Paul was lagging behind by lap six, his face red and his steps uneven.

Sirius, ever the cheerleader, slowed down to a jog beside him. "Doing alright, Polly?" he asked cheerfully.

"It's Paul," the younger boy wheezed.

"Right, right. You're doing great, Polly!" Sirius gave him a thumbs-up before zipping ahead.

Paul's groan was lost in the wind.

Next came the drills: three rounds of pushups, burpees, and sit-ups. Most of the team powered through, but Paul struggled, collapsing onto the ground after just a few pushups.

"Don't worry," Sirius said, crouching next to him. "It gets easier. James is just a bit of a freak. Did you know he was only in his second year when he properly made the team? First year he made reserves. And captain by fifth year."

Paul glanced over at James, who was helping one of the players adjust her plank form, and his jaw dropped in amazement.

Sirius patted Paul on the back, albeit too hard, and Paul face-planted into the dirt mid-plank. "You'll be fine, Polly."

"Don't call me Polly." But no one heard him, his face pressed against the dirt.

They moved on to play simulations, but things only got worse. The Prewett twins were widely inconsistent with their Bludgers and their aim left much to be desired.

"Gideon! Fabian! Can you actually aim, or are you just hoping for the best?" James shouted, narrowly dodging a rogue Bludger.

"Bit of both!" one of the twins yelled back, grinning.

Meanwhile, James, Marlene, and Sirius—all Chasers—flew from one end of the pitch to the other, attempting passes. It was an absolute mess. Marlene glared at Sirius with each attempt, clearly ready to hex him out of the sky. Sirius, on the other hand, was enjoying himself far too much, lacking any sort of focus. James intercepted every pass with ease.

With a frustrated sigh, James stopped near the goalposts, Dorcas stationed as Keeper behind him. "Sirius, stop fooling around."

"I'm not doing anything!" Sirius protested, but his grin was smug.

"That's rich," Marlene added with a sneer. "You keep taunting me. And the whole thing with the flowers yesterday… despicable."

"You didn't like my gift?"

"I don't want to hear it!" James threw the Quaffle at Marlene, his irritation bubbling over. "Focus! Run it again!"

"You're trying to spin gold out of straw, Potter."

"Save it, Meadows!"

The team returned to practice, but Marlene and Sirius couldn't stop bickering, and Dorcas found the entire thing hilarious, laughing so hard that too many Quaffles slipped past her. The new recruits flew erratically, lacking structure and speed.

As for Paul, he hadn't spotted the Snitch even once. James had pointed it out to him twice, and both times the boy had flown in the opposite direction.

Just when James thought things couldn't get worse, a Bludger came hurtling straight for him. He spun his broom easily to avoid it. He was about to berate Fabian—or Gideon, he couldn't tell—when a loud 'ARGHH' pierced the air.

Paul Podmore was spiraling out of control, his broom wobbling violently before he crashed into the ground with a heavy thud.

Clara Torres flew over to James, shaking her head. "Poor ting, he weel definitely 'ave a bruise after dat."

---

Lily took a deep breath, steadying herself against the knot of nerves twisting in her stomach. Approaching a pack of Slytherins in broad daylight wasn't exactly her idea of a good time, but she didn't have a choice.

"Claudia!" she called out, her voice crisp but carefully neutral.

The group of girls turned their heads almost in unison. Claudia, at the center of the gaggle, was mid-laugh when she locked eyes with Lily. Her dark brown hair gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight as she tossed it over her shoulder with an air of superiority. The amused curve of her lips only sharpened as she saw who had interrupted her.

"Yes?" Claudia arched a perfectly sculpted brow.

"I was thinking—hoping, actually—" Lily stumbled slightly, but quickly recovered. "Is there any way you can take the patrol today? If you're feeling better, of course."

Claudia blinked, her expression morphing from mildly amused to outright incredulous. She rolled her eyes dramatically, enough that the other girls giggled behind their hands.

"Are you Gryffindors all deaf or something?" Claudia drawled. "I already told your mate I have an appointment this evening." She began to turn back to her friends, the conversation clearly over in her mind. "Now, if you can just leave—"

"But—" The word slipped out of Lily's mouth before she could stop it. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Claudia's arm.

Claudia recoiled instantly, her lips curling into a look of absolute disgust as she yanked her arm away. "Ew! Don't touch me."

Lily stepped back, her face flushing as the sound of laughter swelled around her.

"Do you think it'll get infected?" Claudia said loudly, her voice dripping with mockery. Her friends laughed even harder.

Lily didn't wait to hear more. The humiliation burning in her cheeks, she turned sharply and walked away, her head held high despite the mortification simmering in her chest.

---

"They're evil," Marlene said.

"Absolutely," agreed Mary.

"Claudia thinks she's the next Narcissa."

"She's not even half as pretty."

Lily sighed.

---

"She's got to be at least half," Sirius declared confidently.

"No way," Peter argued, shaking his head. "If she was, wouldn't we all be acting weird?"

James grinned. "Why do you think everyone suddenly loves Astronomy?"

"Professor Ivanova is not a Veela," Remus said flatly.

"I said half," Sirius shot back. "At least."

Peter leaned in conspiratorially. "I saw the Bulgarian team's Veelas once. Everyone acted like complete idiots. None of us are acting like idiots now."

"No," Remus muttered. " Some of us don't need Veelas to act like idiots."

"Why are you looking at me?" Sirius asked, affronted.

"Marlene told me about the flowers," Remus said dryly. "That could've ended badly."

"It was harmless," Sirius waved him off.

"Can you ever stop and think about other people for once?"

"I think about other people all the time!" Sirius said, pretending to be deeply offended. "Prongs, back me up here."

James raised a brow. "Honestly, I wish you'd stop bickering with McKinnon. Neither of you paid attention during practice."

"See?" Remus said triumphantly. "Would it kill you to consider the consequences for a second?"

Sirius shrugged. "Ridiculous. Where's the fun in that?"

---

Clank. Zip. Swish.

Dinner had ended over an hour ago, and Dorcas lay on her bed, the latest volume of Seeker Weekly resting on her chest as she idly flipped through the pages, attempting to focus on an opinion piece about Seekers faking the discovery of the Snitch to distract the opposing team.

Thwap. Snap. Thump.

The Wronski Feint, when executed properly and despite its risk, could be a powerful tactic to throw off—and sometimes incapacitate—the opponent's Seeker. There had been instances where referees had ruled it a foul, comparing it to hitting a Bludger toward a player without the Quaffle—

Clasp. Thump, thump, thump.

"Lily!" Dorcas sprang up, dropping the magazine onto her lap. "I'm trying to read."

Lily paused mid-step, turning to her roommate with an apologetic expression as she pushed her red hair behind her ear. "Sorry, just getting some things ready—"

Dorcas knew better than to believe her. She stood from the bed, leaning against the bedpost with a knowing look. "No," she said firmly. "You're procrastinating."

"I'm not!" Lily insisted, rifling through her bag. "I just can't find my book."

"And you need that for patrolling because…"

"Found it!" Lily pulled out a smaller purse, shoving her book inside. "Just in case it's one of those boring nights." She glanced at her muggle watch—a gift from her father. "Ugh, I have to go."

"Good luck with Snivellus."

Lily gave Dorcas a pointed look. "I really wish you wouldn't call him that."

"Then he shouldn't have done what he did," Dorcas shrugged, climbing back onto her bed and picking up Seeker Weekly once again. "Have fun!"

The sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Lily, who tightened her grip on her purse strap as she left her room. She quickly made her way out of the common room, heading toward the Head Students office to meet Severus. With every step, her chest felt tighter, her throat dry, and her nerves gnawed at her as students passed by, hurrying to their respective common rooms as curfew approached. The sound of her own footsteps echoed on the cold stone floor, only adding to her unease.

"Lily Evans!"

Lily jumped at the voice, startled to find Ella—the young girl she had met that weekend—standing in front of her. Now wearing the typical black robes over her uniform, her icy blue eyes shimmered against the blue and silver of her Ravenclaw tie.

"Where are you going?" Ella asked, with a curious smile.

Shaking off her anxious thoughts, Lily forced a smile at the young first year. "Patrolling," she explained. "I'm a prefect. Are you heading back to the common room?"

Ella nodded but let out a frustrated sigh. "I was, but the stairs moved again. I think I was going the wrong way."

Lily suggested that Ella walk with her—Shacklebolt would likely still be in the Head Students office, and he could help the young Ravenclaw. Ella followed closely behind her, her shorter legs trying to keep pace with Lily's longer strides. The Gryffindor prefect asked about Ella's potions venture, and the Ravenclaw's face lit up with pride as she spoke about Henry's full recovery.

As the two students rounded the corner, Ella almost bumped into Lily's back when she suddenly stopped short. There he was—Severus—waiting outside the Head Students office, deep in conversation with a Slytherin seventh year, Rabastan Lestrange.

"Who is that?" Ella whispered, her voice low, assuming they were the reason for Lily's unexpected halt. "That's not your boyfriend, is it?"

Lily quickly shushed her. "No, I told you. I don't have a boyfriend. Come on, quietly."

Cautiously, they stepped forward, making their way behind one of the castle's towering suits of armor. Though they couldn't hear what was being said, Lily could see Severus' expression clearly. His brows furrowed deeply, a crease forming between them as he shook his head slightly, his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Lesrtange leaned in, stepping closer, but Lily couldn't get a clear look at his face. Severus shifted away, his body tense as if physically distancing himself from his housemate. After a moment, Severus nodded slightly, and Lestrange's hand rested briefly on his shoulder. Satisfied, Lestrange walked away, his platinum hair trailing behind him.

Lily watched him for a moment longer before stepping out from their hiding spot. "Alright, c'mon," she said, motioning for Ella to follow again. Severus saw them instantly, his expression shifting the moment he spotted Lily.

"Hi," he said, his voice smooth and low.

Before Lily could respond, Ella extended her hand with a grin. "Hi, I'm Ella. Lily said you're not her boyfriend."

Severus raised an eyebrow but ignored her hand. "Did she?"

Lily quickly covered Ella's mouth, laughing awkwardly. "She asked if I had a boyfriend, and I said no. She's a bit obsessed with the idea."

Thankfully, they were interrupted by Kingsley, who exited the office and happened to be heading back to his common room. Recognizing Ella, he offered to escort her. After a brief goodbye, Kingsley led Ella away, leaving Severus and Lily alone once more to continue their patrol.

Severus had never been one for many words. Quiet and reserved, he rarely initiated conversation, so Lily shouldn't have been as surprised as she was when he didn't speak at all. They walked in silence, making their way through broom closets and empty classrooms, checking for stragglers past curfew. Halfway through the patrol, neither of them had found anything.

Lily knew she should be grateful for the ease of the quiet night. But she'd spent so much time anticipating this moment, it now felt… disappointing. Her voice broke the stillness, "So how's school been so far?"

His eyes flicked briefly in her direction. "Fine, I guess."

"Good," Lily said softly. "That's good."

More silence followed. After a few steps, Lily broke it again.

"So what were you talking to Lestrange about before?"

"Why do you care?"

Lily might have flinched but didn't. She shrugged. "Just passing time."

Severus continued looking straight and Lily was admittedly surprised when he answered. "He was asking for help with some…homework."

"Homework, huh?"

"I said no," Severus added, as though reading her thoughts. "If you wanted to know."

Lily breathed a quiet sigh of relief. They turned a corner, stepping into the empty courtyard. The crisp fall air was sharp, but Lily found comfort in the quiet. She'd always loved patrols through the empty castle, there was something enchanting about it. Well, more enchanting than usual. It was the same feeling that she felt when she went on her runs, just before dawn, like the castle was there all to herself. Patrolling with Severu had been one of her favorite things to do last year—-a chance to be on their own away from judgemental houses.

"I really am sorry, Lily."

The words caught her off guard. She stopped walking, the bright moonlight casting their faces in silver. Severus kept his black eyes lowered, his dark hair framing his expression as he bit his fingernail. For a moment, all Lily could see was the boy who had told her she was magic—a young Severus who had once been her closest—and only—friend.

Her breath hitched. "You really hurt me, Sev."

"I know."

"It was like you regretted telling me I was a witch. Like you wanted me gone—gone from Hogwarts, gone from your life."

"But I don't!" Severus exclaimed, his voice rising slightly as he looked at her. "I'd never want that."

"But you would other muggleborns," Lily said softly.

"No," he shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. I was just embarrassed. Confused."

From the moment Severus was sorted into Slytherin, he had been surrounded by poisonous messaging. Lily knew that, understood it more than he could comprehend. His heart was gentle, easily swayed, though never weak. But she also knew, at the bottom of her very core, that Severus was good. She couldn't explain how, and he certainly hadn't helped her prove it, but she knew.

Lily pursed her lips, her voice steady. "I don't want to go back to how it was." When Severus looked at her, just a glimmer of hope in his dark eyes, she continued. "I don't want to hide from your housemates. I don't want to hide our friendship."

Severus paused, his brow furrowing slightly as though considering her words. Then he nodded, a quiet affirmation. "You won't have to."

She hesitated, unsure. "Do you promise?"

Severus stepped closer, his voice a whisper. "I promise."

They stood for a moment, the world around them still. Lily smiled softly, feeling a weight lift. Some might have thought her foolish—after all they'd been through. Maybe she was foolish. But her friendships meant the world to her, and Severus' had always been special even among the others. He'd been her first friend who knew she was a witch. His very essence connected Lily to her childhood. He'd been there when Lily discovered Petunia's letter to Dumbledore, begging him to let her go to Hogwarts. He'd been right next to her when Lily visited the Headmaster's office herself during their first year, begging him to let her sister join her. Severus was the person Lily ran to when Petunia lost her temper and started destroying all of Lily's school things. He'd be the one to comfort her when her father died. Always there.

And despite everything, despite the past and the pain, Lily couldn't let go of that.

They spent the rest of the patrol quietly catching up. They talked about classes and tutoring, Sev throwing a harmless insult or two towards Amos, making Lily laugh. She told him about her summer—Vernon Dursley, her sister's intolerable boyfriend and potential fiance—and Severus nodded in understanding. Only he would truly get it.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to Petunia's horrific annual summer tea party. "I missed it, thank Merlin. I went with Marlene to a wedding. I just couldn't stay in that house for one second longer."

"Who's wedding?" The Slytherin asked casually, as they started heading back to their respective houses.

Lily froze. "Oh um…Marlene's sister, actually. So of course," the redhead quickly changed the subject. "Petunia threw a fit."

As Lily said her goodbyes and made her way toward the portrait of the fat lady, a strange twist tightened in her stomach. Her heart was light with joy and relief, but beneath that, a nagging sense of unease settled in—an emotion she couldn't quite place. Not until she stepped through the portrait hole and saw the familiar warmth of the Gryffindor common room did she understand. There, by the fire, sat the sixth year Quidditch captain in his pajamas. It was at that moment she realized what had been tugging at her all along—guilt.

---

The Gryffindor common room was almost silent, save for the crackling of the fire. James sat alone, his head bent over a miniature Quidditch set sprawled across the low table in front of him. The tiny players resembled the current Gryffindor team—remarkably lifelike, down to Marlene McKinnon's scowl and Paul Podmore's vacant expression. James shifted the figurines around, testing out new formations. It didn't matter what he tried, though; mini-Marlene still chucked Quaffles at mini-Sirius's head, and mini-Paul flew aimlessly, nowhere near the Snitch.

James groaned, rubbing his hands through his already messy hair. This was hopeless.

"Up late, Potter?"

The voice startled him, and he looked up to see Lily standing in the doorway. She was in her uniform, her red hair slightly windswept. She raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

"Past curfew," she added, stepping into the room. "I could deduct points."

James grinned, leaning back and adjusting his glasses. "You can't. Remus told me. You have to file a report, and who'd want to do all that paperwork?"

"True." Lily walked closer, setting her bag down on the sofa.

"Where are you coming from?" He asked, curiously.

"Patrols," she said with a shrug, eyeing the miniature Quidditch set. "And you? What's this?"

James gestured to the table with a heavy sigh. "Just trying to figure out how to make the team less rubbish."

"Sounds promising," Lily said, dropping down onto the rug beside him and leaning over the table. Her emerald eyes sparkled with amusement as she picked up the miniature version of James. "He even has little glasses."

James watched her, feeling his heart skip a beat as her lips curled into a grin. He forced himself to look back at the board, clearing his throat.

"Marlene and Dorcas were talking about practice at dinner," Lily continued. "They said it was… a bit chaotic."

"That's putting it lightly." James groaned again, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the sofa behind him. "It was a total disaster."

Lily laughed softly. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

He cracked open one eye, glancing at her with a hint of amusement. "Oh, you want to bet?" Lily grinned, shifting her legs to sit more comfortably. "Paul Podmore—our new Seeker—got hit by a Bludger, fell from his broom, and dislocated his shoulder."

"Oh no." Lily winced.

"Yeah."

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine." James waved a hand dismissively. "But honestly, it's only the first practice, and I'm already questioning every decision I've ever made."

Lily laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. "Well, it's only the first practice. I'm sure it'll get better."

He raised an eyebrow, shooting her a skeptical look. "You weren't there when Marlene tried to hex Sirius."

"Honestly, those two…I bet she really regrets that kiss now."

The word "kiss" hit James like a Bludger to the chest. His gaze snapped to Lily, who was still focused on the Quidditch set, completely unaware of the effect her words had on him. The dim light of the fire danced across her features, casting shadows on her freckled face, making her emerald eyes shimmer. Her hair, maroon in the darkness, framed her face in the soft glow, and James couldn't help but be drawn to her lips—slightly parted, curved into a subtle, effortless smile.

"Do you?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

Lily blinked, finally looking at him. "Do I what?"

James swallowed hard, leaning forward slightly. "Do you regret our kiss?"

The room seemed to still. Though they were the only two people in the entire common room, Lily glanced around quickly, her movements cautious.

When she didn't answer, James' stomach twisted uneasily. He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his discomfort. "You do remember we kissed, right?"

"Yes," Lily said, sharply. "Please stop saying that out loud."

"What?" James smirked, leaning back again. "Kiss?"

Lily's hand shot out, covering his mouth. "Stop!" She whispered fiercely, her face burning. Realizing what she'd done, she pulled her hand back quickly, looking mortified. "Sorry. I just—I haven't told anyone, and I'd really like to keep it that way."

James tilted his head, his grin fading slightly. "Why?"

She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Because we're finally friends. And it's been… nice. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea and making things complicated."

"What wrong idea?"

"You know," Lily said, waving a hand vaguely. "That we're… a thing. That there's nothing going on."

James raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "A thing? Is that what you're worried about?"

"James," Lily said, exasperated. "I just don't want any drama and this could start people talking, which would only make things more complicated for no reason. Look at Sirius and Marlene—it's exhausting. We were just drunk and it was nothing. I'd hate for it to become something it wasn't."

Then, to his surprise, Lily placed her hand gently on top of his. The touch sent a jolt through his arm and into his chest. James felt a rush of conflicting emotions—part of him knowing she was doing it to convince him, while another part didn't want to let her down. She had a point, after all. If word got out that they'd kissed, James knew the rumors would spread like wildfire, potentially complicating their relationship—friendship, he reminded himself—and it was still too fragile to risk.

"Fine," James replied nonchalantly, his voice easy, though he didn't dare move his hand. He grinned, leaning just a little closer. "I'll keep our little secret. But you owe me."

Lily raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smile. "Is this blackmail?"

"No," he shrugged, playful. "Just quid pro quo."

As she pulled her hand away, Lily let out a soft laugh. "Sure. Thank you, Potter."

"Don't mention it."

They sat in a moment of quiet, their gazes locked. James' hazel eyes seemed to lose track of the different shades of green in hers, the firelight flickering across them.

Lily glanced away first and after a moment, she broke the silence.

"But... out of curiosity," she began carefully. "Why haven't you told anyone?"

James grinned faintly, leaning back and crossing his arms. "And steal the spotlight from Sirius and Marlene?"

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a small smile as she looked back at him. "I'm serious, Potter. Why?"

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the flickering fire. "I just thought you wouldn't want anyone to know," he said, his voice quieter. "You know the saying—kissing and not telling, or something like that."

"Huh." Lily tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You are a gentleman after all."

"I told you."

Their conversation wound down, laughter lingering in the air like the fading embers of the fire. Lily reached for her bag, her movements unhurried, but as she stood, she paused, turning back to James.

"Thank you," she said softly, her green eyes meeting his. "Really, James."

The sound of his first name sent a jolt through him. He couldn't help the lopsided grin that spread across his face. "Anytime."

Lily smiled, that easy, heart-stopping smile, before heading for the staircase. "Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, Evans," he called after her.

Once he was certain she was gone, James exhaled deeply, letting his head fall back against the sofa. Bloody hell. He glanced over at the Quidditch set, a faint, distracted smile tugging at the corners of his lips. How was he supposed to focus on tactics and strategy when all that filled his thoughts—day and night—was certainly not a Quaffle?

The weight of the secret pressed down on him. Part of him reveled in the thrill of keeping it, the knowledge that this was something shared only between them felt special. But the other part—a more rational side—wondered how long he could keep it hidden. Secrets had a way of slipping out, and this one was bound to stir up trouble.

Still, as he stared into the dying fire, he knew he wasn't afraid. If trouble came, he decided, it would be worth it.

---

AN: Like I said, this one has a lot going on but bare with me. It's all fairly important. (Says the author who is begging you to keep reading lol)

I'd like to talk about the title of the story for a moment. Sonder. This is also the name of my favorite album by Dermot Kennedy. I will talk WAY more about how his songs influence my writing but wanted to give him a shout out. This album screams James and Lily to me. Every single song. It's crazy. Give it a listen.

Thank you again! Hope you liked it and if it's not too much trouble, leave a comment! It makes me as happy as Mary sharing the latest gossip!

-Sam