Lily
"Prongs!" a voice rang out from the train corridor. Sirius Black, unmistakable as ever—especially to Lily, who had spent the past five years in the same house as him. The mighty house of Godric Gryffindor, of course.
"What kind of act is this, Padfoot? Don't pretend like you didn't see me just last week," James Potter laughed.
As the two boys passed her compartment, James spotted Lily and knocked on the glass with a grin that was half joy, half mischief. His shiny Quidditch Captain badge gleamed from his robes. Lily nearly groaned. Quidditch Captains had nearly as much status as Prefects. That's what she was: a Prefect.
"Howdy, Evans," he said as he swung the door open, a breeze following him—hairspray and something sweet. Lily frowned at the sight of his crooked grin.
"Honestly, why bother knocking if you're going to barge in anyway?" she snapped. But of course, it didn't deter him.
"Well, unlike Padfoot here, you must be dying to see me. It's been a whole three months. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting."
Sirius rolled his eyes. Before Lily could reply, two more students approached the compartment. She bounced off the sticky leather seat.
"Moony!" "Marlene!" James and Lily shouted at the same time. Lily hugged the blonde warmly as the three boys fell into chatter.
"You mind if we sit with you, Lily?" Remus asked, his sandy blond hair neatly parted, his eyes gentle. She never understood why they called him Moony—but she liked him more than the others. Before she could respond, Marlene slid in with a casual, "Not at all!"
Marlene shot Lily an apologetic look, blushing slightly. She wasn't sorry, not really. Lily knew she fancied Sirius. But Lily's only comfort was that she wouldn't have to stay in this compartment long. Remus was fine. James and Sirius—less so. She scowled as Problem #1 plopped down beside her.
"So, Evans, how was your summer?" James asked, scooting closer.
She couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested or setting up for some elaborate joke. After years of being the butt of his pranks, it was hard to trust anything that came with a smile.
"It was fine," she replied curtly. "But I really should be getting to the Prefects' cart. Don't want to be late." She turned to Remus. "You're the male Prefect, right?"
Remus nodded, his fingers fiddling the badge as he retrieved it from his pocket. Sirius's face fell.
Remus stood, tilting his head toward the door. We shall, Lily thought silently, and followed. James shot her a wink as they squeezed past.
"Where's Wormtail, anyway?" Sirius asked behind them.
"No idea, but I reckon he'll—" James's voice was cut off by the shutting door.
Remus moved with more energy than usual, a slight limp on his left side barely noticeable. Maybe the summer had done him good. His new robes helped too—gone were the frayed seams and unsightly patches. Lily taught him to sew two years ago, but neither of them had any better materials to patch with. At least he wasn't getting cold.
"I really am glad it's you and not one of the others, Remus. At least you can be responsible," Lily said. She meant it, but wasn't sure he believed her.
He stayed quiet as they walked.
"Being a Prefect is a good thing," she added. "Don't let them convince you otherwise."
"Thanks, Lily. But I'm not sure the Marauders see it that way. Prefects go against everything we do."
The lines in his forehead deepened—too deep for someone their age.
"You can't be a prankster forever," she said.
He didn't respond. She didn't mind. Her thoughts were always good company. Was it Compartment 201 or 301 they were meeting in?
"You know, he isn't as bad as you think," Remus said.
"Hmm?" Lily said, distracted. Did Woody McCollum or Jasper Benefact get the Prefect job for Hufflepuff this year? Lily bet it was Woody, even though Jasper had the job last year.
"James. He's a good bloke. Confident, sure, but with a good heart."
"'Confident' is putting it lightly," she huffed. Her petty thoughts evaporated, replaced by something sharper. The precipitate of Gryffindor. James, like sea salt on sun-dried skin—red, tender, hard to ignore.
There was a difference between confidence and arrogance. Confidence was quiet. Arrogance was loud. James Potter was anything but quiet. Besides, Lily didn't need another person telling her James had a good heart. Even McGonagall had a soft spot for him. He might have moved on from their disputes. She hadn't.
Remus stopped and gently grabbed her wrist.
"Promise me you'll give him a chance," he said quietly.
"I can't," she choked. Only Severus understood. "He's a bully."
"I hope you change your mind. Things are changing out there—and we need people like James. People on our side." His eyes were no longer soft. They begged.
Then he let go, walking ahead. There was something about Remus that felt older than magic.
"I am Edgar Bones, Head Boy of the Hogwarts class of 1976," he announced. "And I will be running this meeting alongside my female counterpart, Millie Thompson. First order of business: you will follow every rule. Meticulously."
He stood rigid, every hair in place, clean-shaven but clearly capable of a beard. Tall and strong in that way. Pompous, Lily thought—not arrogant like James, but stern and dignified.
He spoke of rules, how slip-ups were unforgivable, how this would change their lives. To Prefect to lead by example. To do wrong, is to reflect badly on ourselves, on them as Head Girl and Boy, and therefore on Dumbledore.
Millie, in contrast, was relaxed—long hair flowing, smile easy. Lily recognized her as a Gryffindor Chaser.
Lily missed half the speech watching them, shame curling in her stomach. She needed to focus.
"You may now patrol the halls," Edgar said. "Don't forget to lead the first years to the Common Room after Sorting."
As the group stood, a stool clattered to the floor. A Ravenclaw picked up someone else's candy wrappers. Lily didn't remember if he was Pureblood or Half-blood—not that it mattered, but such things often molded habits.
Remus sped toward the back of the train.
"Where are you going?" Lily asked.
"Back to our compartment," he replied, confused.
"We have to patrol. Edgar said so. We can't slack off—it's OWLs, we're Prefects."
"I appreciate what you said earlier, and I'm honored to be a Prefect," Remus said, "but that guy's got a stick up his bum."
Lily wanted to laugh, but settled for a smile. She might not agree with Edgar's rhetoric all the way, but she wasn't planning on screwing up either.
"I'll make you a deal. We patrol for half an hour, then go back to our friends."
"Alright," she said, not correcting him—they didn't share friends. Not really.
As they walked, they traded summer stories. Remus had split time between his grandparents' in Surrey and home, dragged into adventures by James and Sirius.
Lily spent hers in Cokeworth. She tried and failed not to argue with her sister. Her parents worked crazy hours. Mary and Marlene were busy globetrotting or bussing tables in Diagon Alley. That left Lily more often than not with Severus.
This summer like all the ones before. Afternoons thick with sun and black flies. Picnic blankets and ants crawling towards the lemonade they split. Two straws under the oak tree by the river.
She mentioned him without fear. Remus didn't flinch—he even asked questions. She told him about Jaws, about buttery popcorn and trips to Oxford Street. She'd bought a cheap disposable camera. The trench coat Severus had modeled might not move like wizard photos, but it lived in her wallet. In her mind.
"There they are," James shouted.
Lily sighed as he peppered Remus with questions, barely giving her a wayward glance.
"The Head Boy's insufferable," he said, shaking his head. "Bones, you know him. Imagine giving him a bit of fake power like this."
The boys howled in laughter, each one adding a new bit to the joke. Lily ignored them and joined Mary, who launched into a story about a scandalous older magazine editor trying to make her his muse.
James and Sirius whooped and high-fived about something behind her, but she tried to pay them no mind. Mary dived into a story about a magazine editor she met this summer, scandalously old, who tried for days to convince her to be his muse. Laughter blossomed between the girls as quickly as ever.
"Honestly mate, where is Peter?" Sirius asked again. "It's not like him to be this late."
Remus shrugged and looked to where James stared into the hall where two Slytherins stood. James jumped from the compartment and into the hall. They all had their backs turned, but Lily knew who one was right away: Sev. Lily leapt up from her seat and followed him. Mary and Marlene reached for her, but only caught air.
"Sev!" she called.
He turned mid-hex, his spell fizzling. Peter cowered behind James. Mousy, forgettable—too easily dismissed. Peter Pettigrew was a mousy looking boy with watered down features, like a photo copied too many times. But Lily had always seen more in him than others did.
James marched up to Severus, wand out.
"You greasy-haired prat," James said. "Already targeting Peter? We haven't even been on the train for an hour."
"Can it, Potter," Lily snapped before she could stop herself.
James turned, hurt flashing before he scowled.
"Whose side are you on, Evans? Snivellus's?"
"I'm not picking sides like a child. I'm saying you hex people all the time—and that's not counting your pranks."
Severus smirked.
"How's it feel to know not everyone bows to you, Potter?" he said with a smile as unnerving as James' anger.
Lily suddenly didn't want to defend anyone.
"You know what? You're right," James said, turning back. "Cantis!"
Severus began to sing uncontrollably. Songs she didn't know, and songs she did. The Beatles and the Gray Sisters. It was ridiculous. Lily nearly smiled. But she couldn't.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter," she said sharply.
"Get off your high broom, Evans. You've been a Prefect for an hour! We're in the same House!"
He stepped closer. Taller now than he'd been in years prior. Her face was inches from his chest
"Prefects don't choose favorites," she said. "And if they did, you certainly wouldn't be on my list."
"Really? Well, Snivellus made your little list. Tell me how that's fair."
She hesitated. He wasn't wrong. His hand mussed his hair. She wondered if he always does that when he's stressed.
"Fine," she spat. "Ten points from each of you," she said to the Slytherins. "Get back to your compartments."
"You'll get what's coming to you, Mudblood," Mulciber muttered as he shoved past.
Sirius cursed him before Lily could react. A Body-Bind.
James rushed to her side, his anger replaced by concern.
"Evans, I'm sorry—he's a—"
"Get out," she said. "And take your stupid friends with you."
James looked like a kicked puppy but didn't protest. He left quietly.
Her friends came rushing back in.
This was going to be a long few years.
JAMES
"Many, many years ago,
When I was young and new,
Two wizards and two witches
Were not unlike you.
They wanted nothing more
Than to give kids education.
So these talented four
Built Hogwarts into creation.
Sorting students, I provide,
For seven years they divide.
Since the Founders were not unified,
Free roam leads to strife.
Godric took the chivalrous—
They wore their hearts on their sleeves.
Salazar chose the cunning ones,
Who thought the end justified the means.
Rowena claimed the intellects,
Who always thought before they act.
Helga took those who would protect,
Whose morals stayed intact.
And for quite some time,
All was going well.
But the Founders had different views
On the purpose of magic and spells.
Gryffindor thought it was a weapon—
To protect and to defend.
Slytherin saw it as treasure,
That others should not comprehend.
Ravenclaw thought magic was art—
To be studied and perfected.
While Hufflepuff saw it as a gift,
That all should be accepted.
The friends became divided—
Their differences were not small.
And the four turned to three
When Salazar left the hall.
Now I am all that's left,
Each year I split and sort.
Each year I wonder quietly
If it's more harm than support.
Still, I do my duty.
I sing my song.
I sort you into houses,
Though Hogwarts is less strong.
I hope, by hearing this tale,
You'll help Hogwarts unite.
But if history repeats itself,
We'll surely lose the fight.
Because the school is in danger—
A war is coming soon.
Our foes have joined together,
So do listen to this tune."
Everyone sat in awe. The Sorting Hat usually just sang about the Houses—how brave Gryffindor was, followed by a polite mention of the others so no one felt too bad about being placed elsewhere. But this year's song was different. It sounded more like a warning. And it definitely put a damper on the feast.
To lift the mood, the Marauders kicked off term with a prank. Every floating candle above the Great Hall flared scarlet and gold, then drifted into the shape of a roaring lion—sound effects and all. James had spent weeks mastering it without a wand, and his parents' library had proven useful yet again.
He wasn't sure how Lily wasn't impressed—it had taken them the entire train ride to prepare. Then again, she was already mad at him. Not that it was really his fault. More Snape's fault, really, for being a git. He tried not to let it weigh too heavily. But he hoped she hadn't been too bothered by Mulciber.
Lily had somehow gotten even more beautiful. She'd always been pretty, but this year... she was drop-dead stunning. And while Lily couldn't care less about appearances, between her lush dark red hair and those impossibly green eyes, James knew there was no competition—not in his book.
"Merlin, Padfoot, slow down," Remus scolded as Sirius shovelled spoonful after spoonful of food into his mouth. Maybe it was habit for Sirius but James knew Sirius had ate well all summer. He'd been staying with James after all! There was no undereating in the Potter home.
"Hm?" Sirius mumbled, cheeks full of food and faux innocence.
Peter and Remus laughed, but James was distracted. Ever since Lily had kicked him out of her compartment, he hadn't been himself. Not that they'd ever truly gotten along, but... he'd hoped this year might be different.
"Cheer up, Prongsy. The prank went brilliantly—McGonagall couldn't even pin it on us. Close one, though. My wand got snagged in my robes and I nearly blew it," Sirius said, clapping him on the back.
But James barely heard him. He was too busy staring across the Hall at Lily. Her face lit up in a brilliant smile. For a moment, his heart skipped—he tried to grin back, but his mouth was full of juice—until he realized she wasn't smiling that wonderful smile at him at all.
Remus. Her Prefect buddy.
Pumpkin juice dribbled down James' chin, and Lily looked over, squinting slightly at the mess, then coolly returned to her conversation.
James wiped his chin with his sleeve, scowling deeper.
"I'm going back to the Common Room," he muttered.
"Want us to come with?" Peter asked squeakily.
"Nah. I'll catch you later."
He wandered up to the seventh floor, his fingers brushing the thick stone walls. Hogwarts always felt steady—safe. It had held his parents, his grandparents, his friends. It was a great equalizer. Galleons didn't matter here. He thought about his parents—how it hurt them more each year when he left. They'd never say it, but he saw it in their eyes. Their boy growing up. Little by little.
He was just reaching the Fat Lady's portrait when a voice called out.
"James! James, wait up!"
For a second, he thought it was Lily. His heart jumped—then dropped again when he saw Delia Forester approaching. She was a Ravenclaw, also in fifth year, with dark ringlets, warm brown eyes, and skin like polished ebony. A pretty girl, no doubt. She played Quidditch. A Beater maybe? They sat next to each other in Potions last year. He used to help her stir her potion—his hand over hers as she stirred. He never pursued her seriously, just enough of a flirt to shoot Sirius a wink over his shoulder.
"Hey, Delia."
"How was your summer?"
"Good. Yours?"
He just wanted this conversation over with. The day had taken more out of him than the first day back ever had. He usually bounced with the energy of a loose puppy, but today he simmered.
"Pretty alright. Did you hear about the new Minister of Magic?"
James sighed internally. Everyone had heard about it. Harold Minchum. Lots of drama, politics, blah-blah-blah. He wasn't up for small talk.
"Yeah. Minchum. Um—sorry, I'm not feeling so great. Was there something you needed?"
"Oh!" she said, cheeks flushing. "I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me sometime? Opening weekend's coming up..."
James flushed. He wasn't great with this sort of thing—not when caught off guard. He was a horrible liar, everyone has told him so. That was Sirius' area of expertise.
"Oh, er—well, I'm not sure. I've got Quidditch captain stuff and, you know, OWLs…" James dragged on. It was his first day back and Delia already asked him to Hogsmeade. She was quite tactless, even more than him.
"Of course! Feel better, James," she said, waving cheerily. "Let me know when you're sorted."
He gave her a brief wave, ran a hand through his hair, and entered the empty Common Room with a sigh. He collapsed into a chair.
Seconds later, Sirius burst in.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
James debated whether to share. He never kept things from Sirius. So he told him everything—Lily, Delia, the whole mess. He sunk deeper into the chair.
"Oi, Delia Forester has the hots for you and you turned her down?" Sirius laughed. "I think you've had one too many Bludgers to the head."
"Isn't it your job to protect me from those Bludgers?"
"Touché. But still—why'd you turn her down?"
"Don't you think she's a bit... dim?"
Sirius raised a brow.
James shrugged. "Never mind. You've dated plenty of girls since third year who were dumb as a sack of bricks."
"Oh, shut it."
"Enough about girls—what do you think about practices on Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at 7?" James asked.
Since he had got his letter containing his Captain badge it was all he'd been thinking about. Almost all he'd been thinking about. "I really want to get a jump on scheduling the pitch. Archie screwed the pooch last year by letting every other House pick before us."
"Four times a week!?"
"Archie was too soft. We're winning the Cup this year. We've got the talent."
"Too right we do," Sirius agreed. "We're way better than Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. And Slytherin? Half of them are practically Death Eaters-in-training. They'll be all booked up"
"I heard Hufflepuff might be good this year. Someone said something about a promising second year."
"Rubbish. We've got you, Marlene, and Millie for Chasers. Me and Higgins as Beaters. We just need a new Seeker and Keeper."
"Archie's brother wasn't bad. What was his name again?"
"Lance."
"Right. Lance Stillsap. He showed promise. And there's always a few decent kids at tryouts."
Last year's tryouts played through his mind. Plus all the kids getting sorted just now to add to the lineage.
"When are you holding trials?" Sirius asked.
"Maybe Friday. I want a couple practices in before then."
"Earth to Prongs," Sirius said, waving a hand. "You're gonna be a great Captain."
"I just don't want to let anyone down," James said. The nerves he's been feeling stirred in his chest. Saying the words out loud made his chest a little lighter.
"You won't. You've been leading The Marauders since first year. Remus' furry little problem? You figured it out. The Marauder's Map? You mastered the Homunculus Charm. You even came up with the name 'Marauders.'"
"Minnie called us that."
"Yeah, but you made it stick. And you were the one who thought of becoming Animagi. You're a brilliant Chaser, and you're a bloody brilliant friend. Okay?" Sirius said snappily, "Now cheer up and stop making me feed your ego."
"Sounds like Evans," James grinned.
"As if," Sirius laughed.