The Road We Walk by PhoenixPheather

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 5
Published: 20/05/2004
Last Updated: 28/10/2004
Status: In Progress

The seventh year of James Potter. The year in which he must finally choose--to follow his
destiny or to walk his own path. A year guided by tragedy, by friendship, and... just maybe...
love?




1. Prologue: Enter Many
-----------------------

Disclaimer: Everything is owned by JK. Rowling. Except Crystal. And Scooter. Crystal owns
herself and Scooter. Though I own Crystal-the-Character. Anyway, its disclaimed. Don’t sue unless
you want a nickel colored black and a Slytherin pencil. That’s all I’ve got.

Chapter Title: Prologue; Enter Many

Chapter Summary: The first day at Hogwarts for first years Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius
Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew, and Original Character Crystal Howling. The
train, the sorting, and the common rooms.

Chapter Written: January 10, 2004

~*~

*Everything old is new again
Everything under the sun
All of our fears come true again
Recycle reuse
Resent and refuse
Our parent's ideals and view*

*--Barenaked Ladies*

~*~

Severus Snape and Sirius Black were seated together on the train, happily discussing that
summer's World Cup. (Now tuck those jaws in, this is a serious moment.) "Did you see
Cleaton Race?!" Sirius was exclaiming, while leaping suddenly onto his chair. "He was
like, whoosh!" Sirius proceeded to hop to the seat opposite him, "And then, Bam!"
Sirius swung his wand like a bat, illustrating the picture. "It was SO awesome Sevs; my dad
HAS to get us tickets again next year!" He was panting slightly as he lowered himself back to
his seat, long, chocolate bangs falling over his deep sapphire eyes.

Severus laughed as his silvery eyes, warm despite their steely hue, watched his friend's
enthusiastic movements. Sevs grabbed eagerly into the pile of Bertie Bott's, chucking a handful
into his mouth and ignoring the odd taste mixture. "No kidding, Sirius. Poland winning by
loads, it was great. I hope England goes next year, though."

"Just wait till we play for England! They'll be unstoppable! Our names 'll
be flashing on the board; Beaters S. Black and S. Snape, the unbeatable beating team!" Sirius
stuffed a chocolate frog in his mouth. "'Course, we got to stay really good now, so the
scouts notice just how awesome we are."

In truth, Severus was just a mediocre player. While good on a broomstick, he had little
strength, with such a thin figure. Sirius, however, was amazing. His swing was powerful for a mere
eleven year-old, and he was both fast and nimble. No one had ever taken the time to notice that
Sevs wasn't so great, not with Sirius beating everything that came within the field, and some
things—*and* people—out of it.

Of course, it made no difference to friends. "Yea, maybe we can make the team this year,
even though it doesn't happen a lot."

Sirius frowned, then shook his head. "Nope, Andromeda says the only team without beaters is
Hufflepuff, and I'm not bein' in that sissy house."

Sevs laughed, softly, as if afraid of disturbing the humor. "You'll be a Slytherin, for
sure. You're whole family is, 'cept Andry; and Ravenclaw ain't too shabby
either."

"What about you, mate? You're bound for Slytherin if you follow your Da, or Ravenclaw
if you take after your Mum. I bet we'll be Slytherins though." Sirius frowned, suddenly.
"Y'know what Andry said the other day?"

"What?"

"She wanted t'know why I wanted to be in Slytherin so bad. Said there was plenty of
other good houses out there. As if anyone wouldn't want t'be a Slytherin,
'specially when you're a Black." He paused, then looked at Sevs, "Or a Snape. Or
a Malfoy. Or a LeStrange. Or an Avery. Or..."

But he found himself suddenly cut off by the opening of the door. A short, scrawny kid stood in
the entranceway to the compartment, a tangle of messy black locks falling over his face. There were
glasses covering his hazel eyes, and a gorgeous golden owl perched on his shoulder.
"Sorry,"the boy said, pushing up his glasses, "I'll go find someplace
else."

However, as the boy shut the door and left, Sirius Black turned to Severus Snape, his eyes now
surprisingly solemn for the formerly energetic youth. "Sevs, promise me
somethin'."

"Okay," he agreed readily.

"Promise me we'll be best mates forever."

Severus grinned, dark eyes honest and sincere. "Best mates forever, you can count on
it."

~*~

(While it seems all too interesting to sit on the conversation more, the author has decided she
would rather follow the rumpled looking boy, who left us only a few paragraphs ago.)

James Potter moved on to the next compartment, still looking for a place at least moderately
uninhabited. "This," he declared, "is the last time I'm late for the
train. There's no," he peaked inside a door, "bloody,"stuck his head into
another, "compartments." Aha! At last, there were only two boys in here, and one was
asleep. The other sat silently, staring out the window with a remarkably hopeful look on his face,
like a child taking their first steps out the door.

"Hey,"James said softly, and the boy turned to look at him. "D'you mind if I
sit in here, there's practically nowhere left."

The boy hesitated, cocking his head to the side while assessing James broodily with grey-blue
eyes. At last, he nodded his head slowly, sandy-brown hair flopping even in its short cut.

"Thanks," Potter said readily, stepping inside the compartment and throwing himself
down onto the seat across from the boy. "I'm James, James Potter." He offered a
friendly hand, giving him a half-grin.

"Remus Lupin,"the boy responded in an almost whispery voice, like one used far too
inoften. He shook James hand agreeably, offering a small smile. "You're a first
year?"

"Yea,"James commented, "I've heard so many stories though, from my Mum and
Da--I hope it lives up to the tales."

Remus smiled shyly. "I haven't heard much. My Mum, the witching side of the family,
isn't around too often. Plus, she's not a big one for stories."

A nod was the answer. "So, what house was she in?"

It was the common first question, and one answered readily. "Ravenclaw; most of the
family’s been Ravenclaw, with the occasional black sheep in Slytherin or Hufflepuff. No Gryffindors
though. What about yours?"

"They were both Gryffindors. Everybody in my family is in Gryffindor. It's been like
that for ages."

"Oh," Remus said softly, looking downcast. They both knew it was pretty common for
students to be sorted into their parent's house, especially when there was a line so specific
as to be completely Gryffindors. It was a slightly depressing thought, to know how
unlikely it was that the first person you met probably wouldn't be a part of your Hogwarts
House.

There was a sudden snore, and James turned his attention to the sleeping boy. He was plump,
though not overly so, with thin, mouse brown hair. The robes he wore were shabby, but serviceable,
and his snores were quite loud. "Who's he?" James asked curiously, after returning
his gaze to Remus.

"Peter. He's a first year too, fell asleep two minutes after lugging his stuff on the
train." James nodded, and the pair fell silent, interrupted only be Peter's rumbling
snores.

After a while, Lupin picked up the book that had been sitting beside him, and was soon
completely caught up in it. James twiddled his thumbs anxiously, before stretching out across his
seat and revealing his wand. Some moments later, Remus felt a gentle breath of air brush swiftly by
his cheek.

"Oops,"James commented, looking sheepish as he fell under Remus's cool look.
"Sorry, but I was practicing."

"Practicing what?"

James suddenly seemed to be smothering a laugh, as if just realizing some object of great humor.
Soon he burst into outrageously loud laughter, and he pointed to Remus's hair. Lupin's hand
went hurriedly to his hair, staring in horror as the locked pulled before his eyes seemed to be a
startling shade of red, littered with gold sparkles.

When the other boy turned to look at James, he found himself falling silent. The minutes ticked
by, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, finally, a wide grin broke out
on Remus's face. "How did you do that?!" He cried, eyes blazing with a
formerly hidden energy.

James grinned brightly back. "Simple thing, really. I found it in this." He tossed a
book across the aisle, and Remus read the title while his grin grew.

"The Art of Pranking: A Damn Fine Art Indeed! This is so cool, where'd you get
it?"

"Stole it from my da's library. He almost fainted when he found me in there. I never
knew there was such great stuff in books, else I woulda gone sooner."

"Have you ever tried the spell on a large scale," Remus asked excitedly?!

"Well, this one time..."

Suffice to say, that compartment was no longer silent.

~*~

Lily Evans was incredibly nervous. You never would have guessed it, looking at her picturesquely
confident outward appearance. She was dressed in a pair on long, comfortable jeans that fit her
petite frame quite well. Her t-shirt was a simple one of navy blue, with sky blue vines on the
sleeves, collar, and hem. A ponytail held her mass of dark red, curly hair, and accentuated the
loveliness of her face. She bore a charming little smile, and there was a brush of freckles over
her creamy skin. But it was her eyes that caught the eye. Large, almond shaped eyes that glittered
with a brilliant emerald.

However, appearances are quite deceiving, for internally, Lily Evans was frightened out of her
wits. Apart from Diagon Alley, she had a never been to anyplace magical. Now, she found herself
surrounded by people eagerly shouting out the statistics of something called quidditch, or rambling
on about how their house was going to win the cup, or the latest in magical hair care, or the new
man recently put in Azkaban (What was Azkaban?), and the absurdity and sheer immenseness of it all
was overwhelming her.

However, she had managed to find a compartment reasonably early, and it wasn't long until
the door open once again and two girls bounded in.

The first had her chocolate brown hair pulled back in a ponytail; dark brown eyes alight with
laughter. She was dressed in simple muggle jeans, and a loose, dark green t-shirt with a large
monkey on it. She was grinning, a wide grin that seemed to want to encompass her entire face,
including her dusting of dark freckles. She was also, quite tall. Tall enough to appear to be at
least a third year.

Next to her, the other girl was dwarfed, not even being five feet tall. She had long, blonde
hair that fell down her shoulders in unruly curls, and blue eyes that sparkled with buoyant enigma.
Her own garb was a pair of jean shorts, frayed at the edges, and a white tank top with a light
blue, quarter-length sleeved shirt over it. She wore large hoops in her ears, and seemed to have an
almost aristocratic presence. When her eyes turned to meet Lily’s, Lily found herself smiling back
shyly, the casualty with which these girls talked marking them as friends.

However, the blonde quickly tossed out a hand in greeting, directing her flashy smile at Lily.
“Hey, I’m Dorcas Meadows, and this bucket of bubbles is Crystal Howling.”

“*I’m* the bucket of bubbles; *you’re* the one who put all the sugar in the tea! It’s
all *your* fault!” Crystal cried, shoving Dorcas playfully.

Dorcas stuck her tongue out at Crystal, causing a surprised giggle to emerge from Lily’s lips.
“I’m Lily Evans.” She told them, and Mixie laughed and directed her attention to Lily.

“Nice ta meet ya, Lily. Mind if we sit in here? This place’ll be packed soon, and we need to
stay with cool people. In other words, get as far away from Slytherins as possible!” She suddenly
looked incredibly suspicious as she sized Lily up. “You’re not a Slytherin, are you?”

“I’m a first year,” Lily explained calmly, silently hoping they wouldn’t desert her for being,
well, probably younger than them.

Crystal’s eyes lit up, “Really? Awesome! I am too, though Dorcas here is a second year. We know
each other from these boring tea parties are mothers love.”

“Ravenclaw,” Dorcas exclaimed, before Lily could even ask the question. Lily grinned, and nodded
happily, but kept her silence.

“So…” Crystal drawled, lounging in a seat. “Got any family, Lily?”

“I have this awful sister, and a terrible Pomeranian. His name’s Scooter…” (Lol, that ones for
you, my maniacal friend. And maniacal dog.)

~*~

After a long period of time, the train finally drew to a stop. From there, a multitude of either
incredibly fearful or incredibly cheerful first-years trotted into a pack, following the shouts a
giant man. He was calling, “Firs years o’er here, o’er here all ye midgets!” So the students, being
the midgets that they were, trailed after him obediently.

The sky above them was pitch black, as if someone had thrown a blanket across the stars. Not
even the moon, which would have been half-full, glinted from beneath the cover of darkness. The
wind, too, was perfectly still. It seemed to be awaiting something, like the herd before the attack
of the predator. It was eerie, to know that stillness lay even in the Forbidden Forest, as happened
only once in millennia. Most of them didn’t notice, chattering softly as they were, but a few of
the more perceptive children did.

“Did you feel that?” James asked Remus and Peter curiously as they continued towards the
lake.

“Feel what?” Peter voice was slightly squeaky, his beady eyes wide in his terrified state.

“That chill. Like, I dunno, like you just looked death in the eye—“

“Or moonlight washed over your face…” Remus continued.

“Like blood seeped over your hands,” Sirius was saying somewhere.

“As if fire was liquid,” Sevs continued.

Lily was saying saying, “I thought it was the loss of something great.”

“Treachery. It felt like treachery.” Crystal agreed.

Anyone else wouldn’t have felt it. But these six, they were marked for something. Marked for
something perhaps beyond their reach. Marked by one who did not yet exist. But marked, above all,
by a fate of anguish. Their road would be difficult. Their road would be painful.

But for them, the road would not be lonely.

~*~

The first-years now filed slowly into the Great Hall, clumped like the anxious novices they
were. A few didn’t look it, and fewer still didn’t act it. But they all were.

After taking their place on the platform of the hall, they all stood silently, a few twisting
hands or hair, others biting nails or rolling wrappers in their pockets. One was messing up his
hair, a nervous habit developed early on.

Professor McGonagall sophisticatedly approached the stool, her lips drawn in thin line. Now, all
eyes turned to the battered hat that sat upon it, most of them merely expectant. Several moments
passed, before the hat finally opened its mouth and began to sing, its tone uncannily forlorn.

There comes a day

When courage calls

When men rise up

When hope may fall

This time will need

The union’s blood

To stand and face

He who will come

You must unite

Students of four

Bring forth your strength

Open the doors

You have your deeds

You have your traits

Follow your house

Destined by fates

Perhaps you walk

The just and loyal

The in Hufflepuff

Must you soon toil

Maybe you stroll

Through books and smarts

Then Ravenclaw

Is where you start

Come if you sneak

Through ambitious cunning

To Slytherin

You will find yourself turning

But if you stalk

Through bravery beyond all

Then in Gryffindor

You will surely fall

But beware, all ye

Who come this year

For you will live

To darkness fear

The silence lasted for far too many moments, ticking heavy with anticipation, surprise, and
horror. Dumbledore sat silently in his great chair, the twinkle lost from his eyes and a look of
deep depression and regret in them. He paused, looking around the faces of these new, now
forewarned, children. For they were still children, but he knew in his heart that their innocence
would be short lived. As the hat had warned, times were coming of great evil. His eyes landed
longest on the six who had felt a chill that evening, and he paused.

These would be the ones to face it. These would be their leaders.

With that, he smiled, and then coughed delicately. “Minerva, if you could please resume the
sorting.” He spoke quietly, just loud enough for her to hear him, but it broke her out of the
unnatural state of gloom she had been in.

“Of course, Dumbledore,” she replied, and then stepped forward. “Adkins, Jeremy,” she read
coolly off.

A nervous looking boy crept forward. It wasn’t long until the hat declared him “Hufflepuff!”
with quite a shout.

“Black, Sirius.”

“Go get ‘em, mate,” Severus whispered. Sirius gave him a reckless grin, and sauntered calmly to
the hat. A moment later, it fell over his eyes.

*My, my, my*, a voice spoke, *what have we here? A Black, aye? You’ve got the genes,
that’s for sure. The ambition, too. The cunning, I have no doubt. But, dear boy, you don’t seem to
have the treachery. No, you’re far too loyal for that. Almost dog-like, I would say. Admittedly, a
rather ferocious beast, but loyal all the same. Not just though, too hot-tempered for that. Not the
right amount of wisdom. Of course, I can already tell you’re quite intelligent, but I don’t think
Ravenclaw’s for you, either. Bravery, though. You’re quite brave; almost foolishly so. Incredibly
difficult to place, Mr. Black. But I think I have it.*

“Gryffindor!”

The entire hall fell silent. A Black had never, *ever*, been in Gryffindor. You had the
occasional Andromeda, and the once-in-a-century Hufflepuff. But *Gryffindor*?! It was
preposterous.

Sirius stood, rather shakily, an expression of great confusion on his face. He bit his lip,
looking down as the hall remained silent and he walked unsteadily towards the Gryffindor table. He
had not the least idea why he was going in that direction, only that the hat had commanded. And the
hat was never wrong. *Bull*, Sirius thought silently. *It’s wrong this time, and I’m not
going to let it manipulate me like that. I’m going to **hate** these Gryffindor Goodies. I swear
it.*

“DeSaber, Garcias,” was next, and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Then, “Evans, Lily.”

Lily hadn’t quite figured out why no one had cheered for that Black fellow. Maybe the
Gryffindors weren’t very nice. She wasn’t all too sure. She had heard so much about them, though…
And then the hat was covering her eyes, and she had no more time to think.

*Hello Miss Evans. I’ve been expecting you. But you’ve come, and just on time. For it will
soon be your time, Miss Evans. You’ll be needing these traits. And what are they? Let’s see; a
brilliant mind, absolutely brilliant, you’ve got plenty of loyalty too, mixed with a touch of
ambition. But yes, exactly what I was hoping for. Courage, Miss Evans. I congratulate you for
it.*

“Gryffindor!” The hat shouted for the second time. Cheers and clapping rang out from Gryffindor
table, at least, from everyone but Sirius. She trotted to the table, beaming, and took a seat
diagonal to Sirius’s. He scowled at her, but Lily only offered a shy smile in return.

Of the following, three became Ravenclaws, and there were two for both Slytherin and Hufflepuff.
Lily up hopefully when McGonagall read, “Howling, Crystal.”

Crystal smiled as she ambled to the stool, hands in pockets and an air of easy confidence
surrounding her. As the hat pulled over her eyes, she heard its words within her mind. *Howling,
is it? And bursting with talent, I see. You all have been quite the exciting year. I’ll be
listening for you, when the news rolls in to the office. But let’s see… Not a Hufflepuff, that I
can tell. Not exactly huge on justice, are we? Smart, too, but not studious. You’re brave, quite
brave. But also cunning. Sly. I have a feeling that you may even be treacherous, when you’re
loyalty hasn’t been placed with those you love. You’ve got a cool heart, but a quick tongue. I
believe, Miss Howling, that I know where your part is to be played.*

“Slytherin!” The Slytherins applauded politely, but Crystal was shocked. Her? A Slytherin? But…
She could *never* be so evil… Could she? Her steps were slow as she approached the table, a
mask drawn over her expression. She appeared bored as she took her seat, and the expression held
throughout the rest of the ceremony. But on the inside, she was befuddled. Oh, how very, very,
confused.

Several people afterward, the name “Lupin, Remus,” was read off. He went willingly to it, hiding
the fact that he was frightened. Frightened that perhaps the hat would simply send him home, order
that no werewolf was worthy of Hogwarts.

*You have no need to worry, Mr. Lupin. Werewolves are quite accepted. Rowena Ravenclaw’s son
was one. You’d do well in that house, I believe. You have an incredible mind, and quite the
capacity to learn. You’d do well, but it’s not where you belong. Not with that strength, or that
heart. Don’t fret, Mr. Lupin, I know the perfect place.*

“Gryffindor!” Remus was a bit surprised, but altogether relieved. He had hoped for Ravenclaw,
even Hufflepuff. He had believed the evil in him would send him straight to Slytherin. But
Gryffindor?! It was bloody fantastic!

He hardly had taken his seat, two places from Sirius, when McGonagall continued, “Potter,
James.”

Earlier, James had been confident. But a Black was in Gryffindor, and Howling, who he knew was a
decent girl, had been put in Slytherin. Maybe the Sorting Hat was messing up. It certainly seemed
like it.

**You.** *You are the one for whom I have waited. For whom **we** have waited.* And
suddenly, the Sorting Hat was not one voice, but four; a mixture of bass and alto, light and dark,
silver and gold. *You know already where you belong,* it boomed, *and you will be there. But
first, you must be told. You are the warrior. You are the leader. You are the lion. It will be your
choices that change the future. Others will later be the sword, but you must be the one to forge
it. Forge it well, lion. Forge it well.*

The hat fell silent within his mind, and a moment later called a proud, “Gryffindor!” James
strolled to the table where and took seat beside Remus, completely oblivious to the loud applause.
Instead, he was mulling over his warning. Or perhaps it was guidance. Either way, he knew it was
not what the hat normally said. No, this was different. But how? And why? Why him, to “forge” the
“sword”? And what was the sword? The questions would not leave his mind, swirling and mixing and
reforming till he was so lost that all features began to fade.

He didn’t even hear Minerva call out, “Snape, Severus.” Severus walked up to the hat slowly,
still in shock from seeing his best mate sorted into the terrible *Gryffindor*. Wasn’t
Gryffindor, like… Good?

*Yes, Mr. Snape, Gryffindors are often known for being ‘good’. But not always; just as not all
Slytherins are ‘bad’. Perhaps you should think about the similarities sometime, it’s rather
illuminating. You could belong in either of these, I think. You could belong in Ravenclaw or
Hufflepuff, also. But I think, Mr. Snape, that I will leave that choice to you. Where will you
walk?* Severus sat, his mind completely empty for several seconds, and then a single thought
arose. “I want to be a Slytherin,” he whispered, so softly that not a single person overheard. The
hat seemed to sigh, but he could feel agreement. *Very well then, Mr. Snape.*

“Slytherin!”

~*~

Severus Snape and Crystal Howling were amongst the eleven first-years that entered Slytherin’s
common room. They glanced around, but neither seemed to really care for the stone walls covered in
thick tapestries, or the elegant rugs underfoot or the collection of high-backed chairs and sofas
arranged around the room. Indeed, neither seemed to be caring about anything at all.

But Severus was caring very much. Indeed, he was beginning to regret his decision to become a
Slytherin. He had just abandoned his best friend in the whole world. He could have readily become a
Gryffindor, and stayed completely comfortable with Sirius. Hell, he could’ve become a Ravenclaw and
still been friends with him. But Slytherins and Gryffindors weren’t friends. They certainly weren’t
best mates. Already, he had managed to begin splitting the promise from the train.

Crystal was also quite concerned. She was curled up on armchair near Snape’s, studying her
hands. They were Slytherin hands now. Because she was treacherous. The hat had said she was
treacherous. She didn’t believe it, not really. She had never been disloyal to her friends. At
least, not the ones that were loyal to her, too. Only now, now she was going to be classified as a
deceiving Slytherin. Wonderful. There went her life.

Both Severus and Crystal had fallen into depression within the next month.

~*~

In the Gryffindor common room, things were going much better. For most people, at least. James,
Remus, and Peter were seated in one corner of the room, excitedly going over the details of the
latest quidditch news. Sirius had nearly tuned them out, but it wasn’t ling until their
conversation began to disgust him.

Potter knew about quidditch, that he could tell. But Remus was going purely on statistics, and
that little fat dude—didn’t know his name—was clearly not educated in the highly specialized field
of quidditch debate. It wasn’t long after they began to discuss Poland that he groaned, causing
their attention to turn to him. “Idiots, Race is *clearly* the best player on the team. A
quidditch *wannabe* could see that.”

There was a short pause, then James slowly began to grin. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Black.
Hapsbugle is the most important. He’s the fastest, has all the awesome tricks—“

“And has no strength whatsoever. If Romania had just ran one bludger into him, he would’ve
toppled right off the broom.”

“Are you serious?” James began, but Black cut him off.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” There was a short pause, and then James began to laugh quite
heartily.

“Alright,” he finally managed to gasp out, “got me there. For the moment, I retreat. Expect me
back in a few days.” He smirked slyly, “*after*, me ‘n Remus have a bit of fun.”

“What are you going to do?” Sirius asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Turn the first-year girl’s hair red with gold sparkles. We’ve been practicing.”

“Oh!” Sirius was suddenly quite excited, and there was a real, true smile spreading on his face.
“It’s from The Art of Pranking: A Damn Fine Art Indeed!, right?”

“You’ve read it?” James asked, eager to find someone else who loved pranking just as much as he
did.

“’Course I have! C’mon, let me help!” Sirius paused, then added as a hesitant afterthought,
“Please?”

“Sure,” James said calmly. “They’re over there; let’s head out, men.”

The three boys stood slowly, creeping carefully towards the group of four girls. Peter departed
from them, acting as the diversion by settling next to them and beginning to explain in great
detail about some random event. James, Sirius, and Remus were extremely careful as they halted.
Each chose a target, aiming their wands expertly. James leaned closer, and whispered, “On my
count.”

There was a pause. “Three… Two… One… Go!” He whispered fiercely, and the three muttered the
words of the charm at the exact same moment. James had doubled his, no might encompass two
girls.

The golden sparkles were enough to send all of the boys in to amicable laughter, giving each
other cheerful high-fives. They barely noticed when one girl, on whom the read hair seemed entirely
natural, stepped up to them. She scowled, glaring at the trio. “Who are *you*?” Lily
demanded.

“James Potter, at your service.” He told her with a cheeky grin.

“Would you mind explaining this?” She tugged her ponytail, her scowl deepening.

“I think it looks charming,” he told her, straight-faced and sincere.

She slapped him. “Like hell it does, James *Potter*. You’ve been forewarned; I like my
revenge.”

He watched the retreating back of a certain red-head, and suddenly found himself break into a
huge, loony grin. *I’m going to marry that girl.*



2. One:  Plans of a Staircase
-----------------------------

Author’s Notes: This chapter is a bit unoriginal, I know. But it’s sort of a setup, and I needed
it.

Disclaimer: It’s JKRs. If you sue, you’ll get the 5 HP books, all thoroughly beaten up, and I
expect you already have those.

Chapter Title: One; Plans of a Staircase

Chapter Summary: Summer at James, with way too many enemies.

Chapter Written: January 14th, 2004

~*~

*Believe it or not, everyone have things that they hide
Believe it or not, everyone keeps most things inside
Believe it or not, everyone, believe in something above
Believe it or not, everyone, need to feel loved*

--Believe It or Not, Nickelback

~*~

James Potter ambled slowly through the door to Dumbledore’s office, hands tucked into his
pockets, slightly confused as to why he had been called here a week before term began. He was
dressed for comfort, in loose jeans and sneakers, his t-shirt sporting the English quidditch team’s
logo. The tangle of black locks covering his scalp fell over his eyes, and he brushed them
impatiently back before dropping into the chair before Dumbledore’s desk.

Albus Dumbledore surveyed James silently from over the top of his half-moon spectacles. He had
no idea as to what to do with the boy. Albus knew quite well that James was talented, the most
talented student he had seen since Tom Riddle. Of course, the boy had fun with it. He loped around
the school pranking everything that walked, and plenty that didn’t. While Dumbledore had always
enjoyed the displays of the Gryffindor boys, he knew James was about to face real danger, and he
knew you couldn’t do it with a box of Zonko’s fireworks.

James shifted uncomfortable under Dumbledore’s piercing gaze, before asking, “What did I do
now?”

Albus laughed, smiling warmly at the boy. “Nothing, James; unless, of course, you have something
to confess.”

James grinned back, and shook his head. “You know me; I’m never in any trouble.”

Albus nodded once again, having seen firsthand how well James could charm his way out of
punishment. The boy hadn’t earned a single detention fourth year, managing to wheedle every teacher
into letting his merry band of men’s pranks slide.

“Of course not,” Dumbledore responded. “But I assure you, you are not here because you are in
trouble. But rather, because others are. Trouble of the other variety, however; they are in
danger.”

Potter remained outwardly cool, though with a slightly curious air. “What d’you mean, sir?”

“I have had warnings of the rising a new dark wizard. It is rumored that he is more powerful
than Grindewald, and is swiftly gaining followers. They will be attacking soon, Mr. Potter; before
the term starts. I was hoping that you would allow several students to reside in your home until
term starts again,” Dumbledore explained.

“Er, sir, wouldn’t it make more sense for them to stay here?”

“It would, but I must depart from the school within the next two days to visit the Americans. I
do not want anyone remaining here unsupervised and unprotected.”

James appeared slightly confused for several minutes after Dumbledore’s statement. “There won’t
be anyone to protect them at home, either.”

James’s hazel eyes were suddenly locked with Dumbledore’s blue ones, and he found himself a bit
unnerved by the amount of power that suddenly seemed to roll through the room. *“You, Mr. Potter,
will be there.”* But that was not Dumbledore’s voice speaking, it was the voice he had heard so
long ago, back when he had first perched beneath the Sorting Hat. *“You will be there; you and
the first rank. You will have the hammer, Mr. Potter. You must begin to forge. Before it is too
late.”*

Then it was gone, and Dumbledore was settling slowly back in his chair. “Do you understand, Mr.
Potter?” He asked, his voice once more that of the ancient professor.

“No, sir,” he answered, before thinking about what he was saying.

Albus smiled wanly. “It will be difficult, and you are not meant to fully understand. However,
believe the Voices That Speak. They guide all heroes—and all villains—to their destiny.”

James sighed and shrugged. “I’ll figure it out later, sir. For now, let’s talk about this next
week.”

The headmaster smiled gently, worried still, but went willingly with the change of topic. “Very
well, James. I will be sending some of the greatest targets to your home, as the Potter manor is
quite well protected.” James nodded in agreement, but said nothing. Dumbledore continued, “Sirius
Black is already staying with you, I believe. I know also that Remus Lupin spends a great deal of
time at your home; please invite him for this next week. With his condition, Remus could be a
well-sought after prey. Your other friend, too, Peter Pettigrew, should return to your home. His is
easily attacked, and could be done so in order to harm Sirius, Remus, and yourself.” Now he halted,
knowing the next two choices would not be easy for James to accept. “Crystal Howling and Severus
Snape—“

But he got no further, for James was instantly on his feet. “*No* Slytherin enters my
home,” he spat, eyes glowing ferociously.

“Perhaps not yet. However, this is necessary. Besides, I think you will soon find that Crystal
contains less Slytherin properties than she demonstrates. I know very well that the Sorting Hat had
a difficult time placing her.” Dumbledore spoke directly, and James knew that the argument could
not be won.

“Fine, Crystal can come. But not Snivellus, he’ll murder us in our sleep!”

“James,” the headmaster said warningly, “Severus Snape must stay within your walls. If he does
not, I fear what he will become.”

“What he will *become*?! He’s already a slimy, sneaking, treacherous snake! If he doesn’t
kill us three steps in to the house, Sirius will have him murdered. Besides, the barriers will
never let him in.”

“Why don’t we test that? If the barriers allow Severus to pass, he remains with you for the next
week,” Dumbledore proposed.

James thought it over, considering his barriers. They were made to keep anything and everything
evil out, and they were nearly unbreakable. The only problem was, they often had a mind of their
own and veer into the most unexpected directions. But Snape… Surely they’d never let *him*
in…?

“I guess so,” Potter agreed slowly. “Just don’t expect all of us alive by September, if he does
get through. Which he won’t,” James reassured himself.

“Very well; now, there are two more people I must ask about. One, you have not met. She is a
muggle by the name of Petunia.”

“Why does a muggle have to be protected?” James had nothing against muggles, but why would one
have to be so protected as to have to leave home?

“She is the sister, of Lily Evans, your final house guest,” Dumbledore clarified.

Albus had not been expecting such a sudden and violent reaction. James leapt to his feet,
sending the chair toppling to the ground. His hazel eyes were suddenly blazing, and there was a
scowl on his face so furious that Dumbledore had to force himself not to cower. The tension in the
room had suddenly quadrupled, and the fireplace bust into white-hot flames. “*Someone wants to
hurt Lily*?!” James’s voice was soft, filled with the deadly danger of a sneaking predator.

Well, that response came as a surprise. Dumbledore was shocked to find that James cared so much
for Lily. He had always known that the boy harbored some feelings for Evans, but the passion in his
voice was clearly something beyond mere ‘feelings’.

Albus rested his gaze on the smoldering one of James’s, and smiled reassuringly. “She will not
be harmed once she is within magical wards. Don’t fear, James, Lily will be fine.”

“Yes, she will,” James whispered, quiet enough so that even Dumbledore did not hear. “I’ll be
protecting her.”

~*~

Lily Evans was quite livid, to say the very least. A week, with *Potter*! What could
possibly be worse than that? Not to mention that none of her friends would be there; she’d be
surrounded by the annoying Marauders and a couple of Slytherins. This entire last week of vacation
would be probably be spent forcing Potter and his minions not to kill Snape! What a waste of a
bloody good week! Dumbledore wouldn’t even explain *why* Petunia and she were being dragged up
to the Potter manor. He had merely told her that Potter would tell her if he wished, and that
otherwise she would most likely discover the reason near the beginning of term.

She wouldn’t have thought it so strange, except that Petunia was coming too. Of course, this was
back before Petunia had developed her profound hatred for magic. While she was one to skirt
nervously out of a room where spells were being performed, she had no reason to *hate* the
craft. Just be intimidated by the strength it granted those who held it.

“Petunia, come *on*!” Lily cried, “The fireplace is only hooked up for another six minutes!
If we don’t get there in time, I’ll have to owl Dumbledore and set up a new time, and all the
effort of getting up so bloody early will be wasted!” Not that she was in any hurry to see her
ruddy year mates, but having been awoken well before the crack of dawn in order to be sent off to
hell had put her in a terrible mood, and her patience was worn incredibly thin.

The blonde trotted sleepily down the stairs, with her last small bag of necessities. She was
yawning, and appeared quite wan. Her face was pale from lack of sleep, and her straw colored hair
had been pulled into a simple ponytail. Petunia had shrugged into loose jeans that nearly fell off
her straight frame, and her shirt was slightly wrinkled. She looked presentable, but Lily rarely
saw her sister so unsophisticated. Perhaps ‘beauty sleep’ really did do people good.

“Sorry, Lily,” Petunia said meekly. Normally, a shouting match would have ensued from Lily’s
bossing her sister around, but Petunia was obviously too tired to care.

“Good,” Lily said shortly. “Now, when the fire turns green, step in with your suitcase, and make
sure you’re touching me. If you don’t you’ll just be stuck here for the rest of the summer.”

Petunia nodded her agreement, and Lily tossed the small packet of floo powder into the fire.
Within moments, it was a fiery lime color, and Lily stepped coolly in, dragging her trunk. She had
expanded the fireplace earlier, enough so that Petunia now squeezed hesitantly into leftover space,
clutching her suitcase and purse in one hand, the other fisted around her sister’s wrist.

“Potter Manor,” Lily commanded softly, before feeling the sudden spin of the floo network. She
heard a screech-like sound from beside her, Petunia’s frightened scream. A moment later, her fit
hit solid ground once more, and Lily nearly fell onto the floor; beside her, Petunia had already
toppled, bags clutched to her chest.

Lily dragged her trunk out before taking the time to look around. The moment she did, Lily found
herself in shock. The room was long, its ceiling were high—but not too high as to seem
intimidating—and were painted in multiple shades of blue. The walls were a soft white, much of them
covered in moving tapestries. Furniture was abundant, all of it apparently antique. One mammoth,
glass cabinet housed a series of wands; each lay on their own delicate pillow with the name of
their owner before them. Across the room, a slender staircase descended, its rail highly
polished.

Seconds later, the clattering of feet could be heard on the staircase, before two people came
tumbling down. She recognized them instantly: James Potter and Sirius Black. Behind them, Remus
came, his footsteps soft and stalking, without the clamp and bang of the other boy’s. Lily spent no
time wondering about Peter.

Instead, she found herself surveying the noisy duo with distaste. Sirius was smirking at her,
dark chocolate hair falling over his piercing, sapphire eyes. He stood well above her, at his
height of six’ three”, and had the build to go with it. His shoulders were broad, his form muscled
both naturally and from time spent on the quidditch pitch. The comfortable, dark jeans and blue,
form-fitting shirt he wore would have looked simple on any other guy; Sirius turned them into a
styled, trendy look of casual sophistication. It was rather annoying, in Lily’s mind.

James, however, held another look altogether. He stood two inches shorter than his friend, with
his presence less obviously confident. Indeed, Lily might almost have believed he was worried, if
such an emotion came to James Potter. But the anxiety was there, in the little frown that lay
between his eyes, in the hesitancy of his slow grin. It was in the way he stood, dressed in grass
stained jeans and a crimson shirt. Mostly, the nervousness was in his eyes, in the way their hazel
no longer seemed to twinkle mercilessly at her, in the way that they bore almost a hidden gaze. It
unnerved Lily to no end, seeing him without his cocky grin and egotistical air.

“Have a nice floo?” Sirius asked from before her, his tone displaying the sarcasm.

“Yes, of course,” Lily replied in kind, glaring at both of them.

“Temper, temper,” Sirius scolded, laughing. “C’mon Lils, chill a bit. How was your summer?”

“Dazzling, up until five o’clock this morning. Are you going to tell me what this all about?”
Lily demanded pf James harshly, snappy still from her early rise.

James hazel eyes never left her, his grin fading to be replaced with a cool mask of
determination. “No,” he stated simply.

“What do you mean, no? Dumbledore said you would explain!”

“No, he said I might tell you. If I thought it was necessary—I don’t.” He was still calm, though
she could see him taking the slightest movement towards his wand, as if she were about to hex
him.

Lily honestly wished she could. Unfortunately, her birthday wasn’t until September ninth, and as
it was summer she couldn’t have harmed him if she wanted to. Instead, she settled on arguing.
“*You* don’t think it’s necessary? Why should I trust *your* judgment? Tell me, Potter!
Or I swear I’ll hex you to the sun and back!”

He opened his mouth, and then closed it again slowly. A moment later, however, he had given her
a half-smile of sympathy. “Sorry Evans, but you know you can’t do that. It’s still what, sixteen
days till your birthday?”

Her glare grew more furious, angry that he knew very well she couldn’t use her wand. There went
*that* approach to create some sort of order. “How did you know that?”

James blinked before proceeding to shrug. “It’s the day you always look the loneliest.” He
pointed out softly, then shook his head. “Well, almost—there’s the day we start term and May
23rd too, but that isn’t the same kind of lonely…” He trailed off, ducking his head
under her sharp, wary eyes.

There was an awkward silence, in which James stared at the floor, Lily stared at James, Petunia
stared at Lily, Sirius stared at Petunia, and Remus stared at them all in amusement. Finally, Remus
cleared his throat, causing them all to jump suddenly into the air. “Well, if we’re done with that
argument, can we move on to bringing your stuff to your rooms before the next one starts? I’d say
we have about thirteen minutes, and we really should try to fit a tour in somewhere. Otherwise
living here will be quite a struggle.”

Lily nodded dumbly, and bent to drag her trunk. A moment later it was floating in the air, and
she turned her murderous glare upon James yet again. “Potter,” she began warningly.

However, he beat her to the chase. “Believe me Evans; you don’t want to go dragging this around
the house. Just let me help, it’s not like I’m asking you to marry me.”

“I’m not an incompetent fool—“

“I never said you were.”

“I don’t need some chivalrous knight—“

“I’m not trying to be one.”

“Especially someone who’s no chivalrous at all—“

“I know, I’m egotistical and pig-headed, no need to remind.”

“So if you think this is going to have any affect on me—“

“It won’t, I understand.”

Lily gave another scathingly suspicious look, but left it at that. Whatever game Potter was
playing, she wasn’t going to fall for it.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Lily and Petunia got a view of the kitchen, the
dining room, the library (small but competent), the trophy room (Lily had to admit, the Potter’s
had done some marvelous things), and the hallway where James, Sirius, Remus, and soon Peter, were
located. Then he led to them to their own hallway, Lily’s trunk still following him obediently.

“Here are your rooms. They’re not all set up, because it takes a while to tap into their magical
chains, but we got three of them set up. I figure Petunia can have the Sunlit Room, Howling ‘ll
have the Sea, and Evans—you can have Mountaintop.”

Behind her, she heard Sirius say something that sounded like, “Mountaintop? But no one—However,
he was cut off by Remus’s elbow. For a moment, Lily wondered if James was playing some trick on
her, but dismissed the thought. Whatever his faults, he wouldn’t have done anything without the
loyalty and approval of his friends, which he didn’t seem to have.

Petunia had slipped into her room while Lily had pondered the Mountaintop scenario, leaving her
alone with them. Coldly, she turned to James. “You can put my trunk down now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, clearly preoccupied. A second later, it was on the ground, though he
hadn’t even reached for his wand. Lily frowned, but was interrupted from her questions b Potter’s
voice. “Um, Lily, there’s just one other thing. I really would like it if you didn’t go too far
away, try to keep the manor in sight and all.”

“Why?” She asked, distracted from his display to his words. “There’s not anything dangerous
running around, is there?”

“Not if you stay near me.”

The moment he said it, James knew he was doomed. “Near *you*?! You insufferable prat, I
actually thought you were serious! I’m not hanging around so you can pull some prank, or test some
stupid pick-up line, or..!”

“Lily,” he spoke quietly, but with power in his tone all the same. “It’s not like that. It’s…
It’s the house.”

Neither of them had noticed Remus and Sirius sidling away, they preferred to remain locked in
their little world of debate. “The house? What does the bloody house have to do with this?”

“The house, it’s full of protection spells. Spells to keep people close to the hei—well, to keep
people close to me safe. You know you wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some danger, so please try
to listen. Dumbledore’s got a plan, I think. Or at least, The Voices do.”

“The voices? What are you, schizophrenic?” Lily glared, exhausted, angry, and simply fed-up with
this numbing word game.

“No, they… I can’t really explain. But they’re important, and so are you. Everyone here, or will
be here, we’re all important. I don’t know how, but Dumbledore does. I think he does. Either way,
we’re stuck here for now, and if we don’t even attempt cordial conversation this place will end up
a murder home.”

“Not as if anyone would care if you died, Potter,” Lily sneered.

James bit back a sharp retort, running a hand through his hair and only stirring up Lily’s
hatred. “Just get some sleep, Evans. Snivellus and Howling will be here soon, and things will get
ugly then.” He turned, and walked calmly away from her, head downcast and hands tucked into his
pockets.

Lily watched him go, head cocked slightly to the side as she considered his disposition. He
seemed so… unconfident. Like some terror had befallen him, something he hadn’t been able to fight,
and it had shattered him into a quiet, meek teenager. It didn’t fit James at all. There was no
egotistical sense of humor, no randy comments, not even a bright, blazing grin. Instead, he was
like a ghost of his former self, and it haunted her.

~*~

Crystal Howling carried a tiny wooden box in one hand, the other holding her wand in a defense
position. She didn’t give a damn if Dumbledore said she would perfectly safe here, it was full of
*Gryffindors*. She shuddered, despite the boiling weather, and looked icily upon the mansion
to which this concrete path was leading.

The Potter home, however, appeared no bigger than a one room cottage. The grounds were
expansive, surrounded by forest and holding dozens of miniature fields and pockets brimming with
flora, and yet the house seemed so miniscule. Inwardly, she was confused as Crystal at last knocked
upon the solid wood door, but her expression gave away none of it.

There were several beats of impatient silence, before the door was practically wrenched off its
hinges by none other than Sirius Black. She glared at him as he grinned cockily down at her petite
frame, towering over her almost exactly one foot. His lazy gaze traveled over her, observing the
black, baggy jeans and shamrock green t-shirt with a bold display of a silver, bleeding four-leaf
clover covering the majority of the cloth. Crystal’s brown, shoulder length hair was pulled back in
a hasty ponytail, several unobedient strands escaping it to fall with a languid chilliness over her
face.

Finishing up his inspection, Black continued to grin at her, irritating Crystal to no end.
“Well, are you going to let me in, or am I gonna get the pleasure of hexing you?” She asked, her
tone sincere, for perhaps once in her sarcasm-filled life.

Sirius stepped back, and she entered the room where Lily had been not too long before. “I woulda
though Potter’s place would be bigger, the way he struts around,” Crystal commented.

“It’s spelled,” Sirius explained. “You can’t see a room unless you know where it is.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, her look uninterested. “Can you show me my room then? I don’t want to
leave it any more than I have to.”

“Tsk, tsk, Howling; you shouldn’t be so eager to dash away from the company of your most
gallant,” here he bowed mockingly, “knight. Surely you desire to know the layout of the kingdom, so
that your supremeness may manipulate its fair folk to your will.”

Howling cuffed him over the head, as he was still bent over in his ‘bow’. “Shut up, Black, and
show me where I’m staying.”

“Fine, fine,” he complained, rubbing his head, “but that hurt like bloody hell.”

He turned and sauntered towards the staircase, Crystal following stiffly behind him, her amber
orbs eerily distant. She barely noted their quick passage through various hallways, or the quick
walk through the kitchens. However, Crystal did notice when she ran right into Sirius, causing him
to spin around quickly and catch her before she tumbled unhappily to the ground.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gripping her arms firmly with his to support her weight, and noting
that she weighed barely anything at all.

Crystal jerked herself hastily out of his touch, unnerved by the feeling of a human’s touch. She
hadn’t felt that in years, not since… Not for years. “I’m fine,” she shot, though her eyes were
flickering around with uncertainty. “Are we here?”

Had she been… *frightened*, Sirius wondered? Or was the look of incompetent control merely
imagined. Everyone knew Crystal Howling had a reputation for being stone-hearted, and the odd,
alarmed impression must have been imagined.

In response to her question, Sirius nodded. “Yeah, you’re through there,” he pointed to a door
two away from Lily’s. “It’s called the Sea. They all have names. Lily’s in Mountaintop and her
sister’s rooming in Sunlit. Not that you care,” he said offhandedly.

“No, I don’t.” With that said, Crystal marched into her room, mask set firmly in place once
more.

~*~

Sirius, Remus, James, and the newly arrived Peter all lounged in the living room, chatting
amicably amongst each other.

“It’s going to be war once Snivellus gets here,” Sirius was drawling, a wicked grin upon his
face. “Filthy bastard, we’ll hex him till he can’t read those ruddy Dark Arts books of his.”

“I don’t know, Padfoot. Maybe we should lay off old Snivellus for a bit; just till we get back
to school.” Three heads turned towards—not their normal voice of reason, Remus—but towards James
Potter. “What?” James asked defensively, “It’s not like we can’t start shucking spells at him once
we get to Hogwarts, but we’re not supposed to do magic in front of muggles. Oh, and Howling could
team up with Snivvy.” Sirius shrugged and snorted, but James cut off whatever he was about to say.
“Besides, Evans is here, and magic or no she’s got enough temper to blast us all to bits.”

“So *that’s* what this is!” Sirius cried triumphantly. “You don’t want to look bad in front
of Evans, aye mate? I shoulda known.”

“That’s not it at all, it’s just that—“

A moment later, a knock pounded on the door. James glared loathingly at it, tempted to simply
stay in one place, but forced himself out of his chair. Behind him, the final three marauders
stood, forming his body guard. James edged slowly towards the door, pulling it crawling open with a
look of putrid disgust on his face. “Snivellus,” James greeted him, and an icy hush fell upon the
five students.

Severus’s hand twitched towards his wand, but he had known he would be outnumbered. And there
they were, all four of those damned Marauders, curse them all. He made no response to Potter,
instead shoving through to the room. Pitch black orbs roved over the details with a sneer, pale
face and ebony hair making him seem almost otherworldly.

Thus followed almost ten full minutes of a silent battle of glares, before Remus decided to
speak up. “C’mon, Snape, I’ll show you where you’re staying.” Peter was dragged behind Remus as the
three ascended towards the steps, because Lupin knew that his other two friends wouldn’t last three
more minutes in the greasy Slytherin’s ‘company’.

~*~

Surprisingly, the next six days passed in almost dead silence. There was absolutely no
interaction between anyone, except the four marauders or when Lily and Petunia were together. It
was shocking, yet the house had always had its own plans, and carefully allowed them all to never
set eyes upon one of their enemies. (Lily did say hello to Remus once, but there was only so much
one house could do, and they weren’t that terrible off.) They were all quite delighted with this
setting, at least until the final day of their stay together; the day the manor gained a sense of
humor.

It was evening, around supper time, something they generally all took within five minutes of
each other, and in separate rooms. Tonight, however, the stairs were having quite a bit of fun, and
wouldn’t let Lily and Petunias go anywhere but the main room. They just kept ending up in there,
despite what path they took. Eventually, Lily and Petunia simply flopped down onto separate
armchairs, and decided to eat their dinner there.

No more than seven minutes later, Crystal appeared at the bottom of the staircase. She glared
distastefully at Lily, then turned back towards the stairs. And found them gone. “What the hell?”
She asked softly, but in the silent room Lily picked up her words.

“Did it to us, too. You might as well find a seat.” Lily commented, before diverting her
attention back to her salad.

Howling sighed and plopped against the wall near where the stairs had once been, and the room
fell silent but for the tiny clicking sounds of the silverware on dishes.

Just before Lily was finished, there was a huge rumble of sound and the Marauders raced jovially
down the steps. “Don’t—“ both Lily and Crystal cried, only to find that they had left the stairs
causing them to vanish.

“Oh no, don’t tell me,” James moaned. “The stairs are disappearing so we can’t get out, and the
door is gone.” He waved to the blank spot on the opposite wall.

“We’ll have a slumber party!” Sirius shouted, for all the world a clueless ten year-old. When
six faces turned toward him, annoyed, he gulped. “Or we could sit here in dead silence until they
reappear.”

The rest seemed to enjoy this suggestion, and took to it immediately. Sirius took a lay on the
floor not far from Crystal, while Remus and Peter lounged on a sofa. James silently took the
armchair nearest Lily, and neither bothered to comment.

It was surprising, therefore, when Snape ended up locked in the room with the rest of them. He
huddled in a corner, shooting them nasty glares and muttering obscenities, but no one paid any
attention. They were all carefully paying attention to nothing. Well, most of them.

James way paying a great deal of attention to Lily. Her crimson curls were spilling gently
around her face, emerald eyes locked on her pale hands. If there was one thing James loved about
Lily over all else, it was her eyes. To him, they were endless pools of emerald green, a light so
pure and beautiful that it trailed throughout the very soul of a person. It was like drowning in a
rainforest, or falling through the sea, all at once. Lily’s eyes were mystery, and passion, and
love. Her eyes were life, and the greatest part of it.

“Will you stop staring?” She asked suddenly, shaking them out of their trance-like revere.

James blushed and ducked his head, embarrassed to have been caught in the act of devoting over
an infatuation. “Sorry, I… got lost.” He excused himself, wondering if that made any sense at
all.

“Got lost in what?” Obviously it hadn’t, “You can’t get lost when you’re in one spot,
Potter.”

“I got lost in… thoughts. Dreams, y’know, ‘cause we’re stuck here and you have to think about
*something*.”

“Well, stop thinking about me, it’s creepy.” She turned her eyes, her life giving eyes, away
from him, and James sighed. But he couldn’t pull his gaze off her, entranced as he was by her
charming figure.

It wasn’t long before Lily felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling again, warning her
that he was still staring. Didn’t he ever *stop*? It was so… stalker-ish. She turned around
and glared, this time yelling. “Knock it off, Potter!”

He half-jumped in his seat, mumbling another apology. “Sorry, Evans, I just—“

“Just what? Though you could stare whenever you like? So the drool falls out of your twisted,
conniving mouth and your stupid ego comes up with some perverted fantasy? Stop it, Potter! I don’t
like you, so leave me the hell alone!”

“Yeah, I *know* Evans. You’re oh-so-holier-than-thou, so I can’t even look at you without
getting my head chewed off. Will you just leave it alone? The world doesn’t revolve around you! I
was looking at the, the wall!” He cried, his pent up frustration suddenly urging to be
released.

She slammed to her feet, pools blazing with heartfelt hatred. “Bloody hell Potter, you drive me
mad! You’re irresponsible, childish, selfish, unoriginal, cruel, egoistical, bloody
*bastard*!”

“Yea, well Evans, guess what,” there followed a dramatic pause. “You make me *sick*!”

He heard her gasp with his repeat of her quote, and suddenly she was tearing out of the room
through a newly formed door. James took several seconds to register what he’d just done, before
taking off after Lily. The door sealed behind him.

He was tearing after her, adrenaline coursing through every nerve of his body. *Oh, what have
I done? What have I bloody well done?* James asked himself silently, frustrated beyond end with
his actions. His footsteps continued after hers, but Lily was fast, and he guessed that she feared
his capturing her. As the wind tore through the his hair, pressing hard against his firm figure,
James couldn’t help but want to scream, and barely held up the emotions that ran so fiercely in his
blood.

In the end, Lily wore her out, as she was unaccustomed to such long-distance runs, especially at
her blazing speed. James caught up to her, slowing that he trotted a few paces behind her weary
steps. “Evans, I,” he began, but found her speaking.

“Just leave me alone, Potter, okay?” Her normally cheerful (or furious) voice was lined with
exhaustion and bitterness. “I make you sick, remember? Shouldn’t you be hurling now?”

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know what you meant. You meant that you hate me, just because I’m not a part of your bloody
fan club. All you want is my devotion, and then you can throw it away and claim that I was yours
for a day. You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the forehead with a twenty-pound divination
book, Potter.”

“If that’s all you think of me, Evans—“

“It is. Because it’s exactly what you are. You’re beneath me, James Potter.”

Now *that* was simply too much for him to take. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder,
pulling her around to face him eye to eye. “Now you listen to me,” he began, one hand on each
shoulder. “I don’t know why you think you can do this, go around throwing people away. It doesn’t
work like that, Lily. You can’t just… rip us into shreds and throw us in the garbage. You can’t do
that to me. Maybe you think that it doesn’t hurt, that words don’t hurt an ‘egotistical, sickening
prat’, but they do. They hurt like hell, and you can’t keep doing that. You can’t,” James faltered,
and stumbled roughly on, “you can’t keep fighting me. You can’t keep fighting me, Lily.”

With that speech, James turned and walked silently towards the forest, leaving Lily speechless
and in tears behind him.



3. Two:  The Intricacies of Green Eyes
--------------------------------------

*That green eyes,*

*You're the one that I wanted to find*

*And anyone who tried to deny you*

*Must be out of their mind*

--Green Eyes, Coldplay

~*~

Sirius woke to a banging on his door. Glancing at the clock, he growled, “Go away!” He shouted
at the door, promptly lying back down.

“Sirius, let me in!” James shouted, giving the door another heart bang.

By the sound of James’s tone, there was no way he’d be letting Sirius get a moment’s more sleep.
Grumbling, he dragged himself to the bed, trailing to the door with still-exhausted movements
before finally yanking it open. “Bloody hell, James,” he yawned out, “its three o’clock in the
morning; bugger off, will ya?”

But James pushed past his best friend, stalking into the room to drop into a large armchair
seated near the window. “I need help, Padfoot.”

Sighing, Sirius shut the door and loped back to his bed, which he plopped unceremoniously onto.
“Go annoy Moony, I need my beauty sleep.”

James didn’t seem to hear. “I made her cry, Sirius. But I was right, I know I was. I just… I
made her *cry*. Oooh,” he moaned, dropping his face into his hands, “Evans is going to hate me
forever.”

“Come back if you learn anything new,” Sirius grumbled.

He glanced up to glare at his best friend. “Thanks for the words of comfort and understanding,
mate.”

“I’m being serious, is all. She hates you as it is, your shouting match dropped you to about
negative three-hundred-million points in her book, and you can’t make it much worse. I’d console
you or whatever, but I think you need to give up on Evans. She’s not worth it, Prongs.” Sirius’s
head fell back towards the pillow. “What did you say to her, anyway?”

James shrugged, “I dunno. I told her she was always cutting people up, and that she needed to
stop doing it. I told her she needed to stop fighting me.”

There was a lengthy pause, during which Sirius considered his next words carefully. “I dunno,
mate. Truth is, she *is* always cutting you into dog meat. Maybe it’s good that she finally
learn that she isn’t an angel, either.”

“I made her cry,” James whispered. “I never make her cry, just yell, or turn red, or storm off.
I made her *cry*…”

“C’mon, James, buck up. Maybe it’s a sign that she finally understood or something,” Sirius was
lying, but it didn’t sound like too bad of an idea. “Maybe what you said hit her.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He sighed and ran a hand through his wind battered hair. “I guess I’ll find out
just how angry she is tomorrow, aye?” James stood up, walking back over to the door, but halting as
his hand rested on the doorknob. “Thanks, Padfoot.” With that note, he left, deciding to go for
another long, emotionally dimmed run as Prongs.

~*~

Lily awoke early that morning, despite the fact that she was already completely packed for the
trip to Hogwarts. However, there was no way she was going to fall asleep again, not with the amount
of time it had taken last night. Walking to her closet, she slipped into a pair of jeans and a
forest green, form fitting t-shit. Drawing a brush through her frizzy scarlet waves, she stared at
her reflection in the mirror, considering the things James had said last night. *I don’t
understand… I don’t ‘throw people away’. I have plenty of people close to me. Sort of… Well, not
really. But that’s because they’re all prats! Like James Bloody Potter, and his little speeches.
Telling me I couldn’t keep fighting him. I mean, he started it! He was staring at me! He’s got no
right to scold me. He’s the one who dragged me away from my home for no reason! And he won’t tell
me why! **And** he was staring at me!*

Lily’s denial of her faults concluded, she stuffed her feet into a pair on tennis shoes and
grabbed her trunk, fully intending to lug it all the way to the main room. However, a moment later
a roar spread through the entire house. “What the—damn it!”

Following this loud statement, which Lily was sure emerged from Potter, was the sound of
footsteps. It took her only a second to realize they were running towards her corridor, then
stopping in front of her door, and then, *Oh no, what now…?*, James burst into her room.

However, he did not look at all as she had expected. He was barefoot, the belt holding his dark
jeans unbuckled, and his scarlet ‘Go Gryffindor’ shirt clearly just thrown on. He brandished
something in the air, a letter, she assumed. Then asked, his voice filled with a deadly quiet,
“When did you get your Head Girl letter, Evans?”

She turned back to her room, casting a glance around in order to ensure that she had left
nothing behind. “Why assume I’m Head Girl?”

“Because it’s bloody obvious; just tell me when.”

Oh, she had almost forgotten the stuffed elephant that had been tossed from the bed! “Why?” she
asked dryly, not in the mood for his questions.

He stepped forward, gripping her and spinning her forcefully to meet him. His hands were digging
into her arms, as if gripping onto life itself. His eyes, which had always seemed so mischievous,
were now overwhelmed with a loathing anguish. “Just tell me, Evans,” he rasped out.

She winced as his hands cut deeper into her. “Two weeks ago, if you must know. Now let go of me,
will you, that *hurts*!”

He let go of her as if she was fire, his face falling dramatically. “Oh no,” he was mumbling,
“oh no, no, no, no, *no*!”

He whirled, sticking his head out the doorframe to shout, “Moony, where’s the Prophet!”

“It’s late, Prongs!” Was the answering shout, causing James to turn back towards Lily, ashy. For
a moment she thought he was storming towards her, but instead halted before her fireplace. Pulling
a handful of floo from a nook she hadn’t known was there, he tossed it into the fire and called,
“Dumbledore!”

Tension filled seconds passed by, before Dumbledore’s head was suddenly swimming in the flames.
“Yes, James?” he asked, blue eyes solemn as he glanced up at the arms-crossed, glaring boy.

“What happened?” He asked, waving the letter.

Dumbledore sighed, glancing towards Lily. “Are you sure you would like Miss Evans in the room? I
presume you haven’t told her of present… circumstances.”

“She’ll be fine; Merlin knows she’s dying for answers anyway.”

“I’m standing right here, y’know,” Lily said curtly, intrigued despite her tone.

The headmaster, or rather his head, turned to stare up at James. “The inevitable happened.”

James moaned, dropping to his knees on the plush green carpet, raking his hand through his hair.
“How many?”

“Seventeen,” James growled, dropping his face towards the floor, “It might have been more, but I
did help those that I could. You did too, James. Don’t blame yourself…”

“DeSabre is *dead*, Dumbledore, I know he is.” Lily gasped behind him, finally beginning to
understand. “He’s *dead*, and I couldn’t do *anything*. He wasn’t such a bad bloke,
either, once you got past the creepy tendency he had to burst into random Spanish. Now he’s
dead…”

“Who else?”

They both glanced towards Lily, where she stood, silently clutching a stuffed elephant to her
chest. “Who else was… lost?”

Dumbledore frowned, sadly, and listed the names. “DeSaber and his younger brother, who would
have been a first year. Delia and Danielle Barnheart, Joanna Bones, Ellis and Jeremy Adkins, and
Beatrice, Bill, and Derek Benson were killed in the fighting. We lost Joshua Burns and Julia
Summers in St. Mungo’s. The others they won’t tell me, because they weren’t Hogwarts students.”

James and Lily were silent, heads bowed. Tears coursed down Lily’s cheeks as she buried her head
in the elephant. She wept, bitterly, for those lost. The minutes dragged on, while she struggled to
stop the sobs, and found they could not be halted. As torrents of tears poured down her face,
strong, protective arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her. She didn’t care if it *was*
Potter; at that time, he was someone strong, and familiar, and she promptly buried her wet face
into his chest, scarlet waves washing around her and plastering themselves to her with her
tears.

James tentatively raised his hand, allowing it to stroke her hair soothingly. “Shh, Lily, it’ll
be alright. You’ll be okay. Don’t worry Lils, I’m right here. Just cry, don’t worry about it, just
cry.” As James continued his soft, whispered words accompanied by the gentle ministrations of his
hand Lily slowly began to calm. Her sobs drew down to a series of random hiccups, tear streaked
face drawing slowly away from his chest. However, she did not pull away, allowing his arms to
remain curled around her comfortingly.

“That’s two Gryffindors, five Ravenclaws, and four Hufflepuffs; what happened to Slytherin?”
James asked from above her, his voice cold with hatred.

“There were no attacks on Slytherins, at least not any reported. James, that does not give you
leave to go murder Severus. He was not a part of this.” Lily had no doubt that James would have
done just that, but he wilted under Dumbledore’s stern gaze.

“Fine,” he muttered, “but that still doesn’t explain the letter. DeSaber would have been Heady
Boy, I know that. We lost him to those bloody savages. It still doesn’t mean you can give the
position to *me*. Look at my record, it’s definitely not picture perfect.”

“We don’t need grades, James. Hogwarts needs talent, originality, and leadership skills; all of
which you posses a great deal of. And no, you are not allowed to refuse.” There was a pause, “You
must begin soon, James. Or your time may run out.”

“Tell them I’m working on it, okay? At the moment, I have to finish packing.”

Dumbledore nodded and vanished from the fire, leaving James to glance down to the slender figure
still held within his arms. “You okay, Lily?” He was speaking gently, not wanting her to suddenly
grow angry with him, but fearing it all the same.

“No, but I’ll live.” She drew herself out of his arms, glancing down at the floor while his
hazel eyes swept apprehensively over her. “I wouldn’t have, would I?”

“What?”

“I wouldn’t have lived, if I hadn’t been here. Petunia wouldn’t have, either. That’s why I
didn’t come, and you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to worry me.”

“Yea,” he was expecting a blow up; some shout as to why he hadn’t thought her able to handle it,
or how he could have warned her of the news. James braced himself for it, hands clenched tightly at
his sides.

She looked up, emerald orbs still glistening with unleashed liquid, “Thanks.”

He flinched back, realized what she had said, and gaped. Shaking himself internally, he managed
to mutter, “Yeah, er, you’re welcome.” Turning, he promptly dashed out of the door, leaving Lily
alone and in tears for the second time.

~*~

James sat silently in his seat aboard the Hogwarts Express, staring distantly at the expanse of
meadows as they rushed by, lost in his thoughts. *I don’t understand you, Evans. One minute
you’re about ready to hex my head off, and the next you’re thanking me for protecting you. It
doesn’t make any sense. Curse whoever had to make women so complicated.*

“Hey, Padfoot,” Remus nudged Sirius, “what’s with Prongs? He hasn’t said a word the whole train
ride.”

Sirius glanced up from their list of various hexes, curses, and charms that they would need to
learn for a certain, rather fantastic prank currently being planned. James was still staring, eyes
vague, and Sirius had no doubt as to why. “It’s Evans problems, Moony. Don’t you know ‘em when you
see ‘em?”

Remus frowned, turning back to face the list. “I think it’s more than that. Something’s felt
wrong since we got on the train, like something’s… missing. I have a feeling Prongs knows what it
is, and won’t tell us.”

Sirius shrugged, “I’m still betting on Evans problems. Apparently they got in a huge fight,
after the first one, and he made her cry.” Sirius sighed, “Poor bugger, he’s in love with her.”

Remus nodded; secretly surprised that Sirius was so perceptive. An idiot would know James’
affection for Lily, but not many would call it love. However, at least in the two Marauder’s minds,
there was no doubt.

“What’s the incantation for that spell again?” Peter asked, jabbing at the parchment. Remus
promptly switched his focus, and they launched into a discussion on some of the more complicated
spells.

Nearly a half an hour later, James glanced down at his watch, surprised at the time. “Damn,” he
murmured, standing and causing all eyes to suddenly turn to him. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

“Go where?” Remus questioned as James moved towards the compartment door.

Prongs searched his pocket, then dragged out a pin and stuck it neatly on his robes. “Head
compartment, me ‘n Evans have to do the whole fifth-year-prefect initiation thing.”

“You’re Head Boy and you didn’t tell us?” Remus’s brows were drawn together, confused.

“Only found out this morning, they had to appoint someone else, because DeSaber couldn’t make
it.” James was gone before they could ask why.

“Prongs is Head Boy? Now we’ll never get to have any fun!” Sirius cried, tossing his hands
dejectedly into the air. A smirk began to form on his face, and suddenly his azure eyes were
twinkling with mischief. “No wait! With him as Head Boy, we’ll never get into *any*
trouble!”

James strolled slowly down the hallway, palms sweaty with apprehension. What if Lily was upset?
What if she had gotten angry again? What if she detested the fact that he had touched her, even if
it was only a hug? What if—?

He was through the compartment door, staring at a red-head who was currently quite involved in a
rather large book. Lily glanced up at him, and, much to James shock, offered him the tiniest of
smiles. “Hey,” she whispered, as if it was a struggle to remain calm.

Taking a few steps closer, he noticed her suddenly swallow, and knew she was fighting off tears
once more. “Hey,” he responded in kind, dropping into the seat next to her. “You okay?”

“Sure,” she responded with fake brightness, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because—“

“Just don’t Potter, please. For now, we need to run over what we generally discuss in one of
these things, since you’ve never been to one.

For a moment, Lily thought he was going to protest. But the short, don’t-mess-with-me-now glare
that she offered him seemed to cancel that idea. “Alright, so what do we do?”

~*~

Lily entered the Great Hall sopping wet, due to the rain that had begun so mercilessly only
minutes before their arrival at Hogwarts. She drew her cloak more tightly around herself, glancing
silently at the four, long tables. There were faces missing at every table but one, and those at
the Slytherin table all looked quite pleased with themselves. Except, she noted with surprise, for
Howling. The girl was staring emptily off to space, as she was so prone to do. For a moment, Lily
almost wanted to go over and sit with her, to ignore the rules that declared that Gryffindors and
Slytherins were not friends. Lily could still recall the day they met, and she wondered why the
bubbly, energetic Crystal had become a silent and ghostly form of a girl.

Scowling, she now walked alone to the Gryffindor table, seating herself near the front, because
there was nowhere else to sit. She had seen, out of the corner of her eye, Potter look toward her
cautiously and cock an eyebrow towards the seat next to him, but Lily cut off his line of thought
with a sharp shake of the head. He may have been civil when she was on the verge of tears after
hearing that people had *died*, but she had no doubt in her mind that he would not remain
so.

As the first years began to file in, Lily yawned, already mildly exhausted from the hordes of
news and duties plunged upon her that day. She smiled wanly as the midgets shifted their feet, or
twirled their hair, or stared with wide eyes at Professor McGonagall. Sitting so close to the
front, Lily was quite sure she heard one boy with bright orange hair whisper to the girl beside
him, “I hear we have to fight a *troll*!”

Lily giggled, as if any first year could fight a *troll*. They had practiced dueling them
when they were fourth years, and you practically had to hit them over the head with their own club
in order to knock the big oafs out!

She watched as McGonagall set the Sorting Hat upon its stool, and waited without enthusiasm for
the thing to begin its song. After six sorting songs, they began to get rather old.

I warned you once

When you were young

Of those dread things

That are to come

Now you pay heed

And listen close

For you must face

Things you dread most

Terror comes

To haunt your halls

Fear will reign

With cackling calls

Do not give up

But do your best

For this next year

Will be your test

You Hufflepuffs

Of loyalty

Turn to your friends

When you’re in need

The Ravenclaws

Of vibrant wit

Shall look to books

When they are hit

For Slytherins

With ambition beyond

Listen up

Don’t join that throng

My Gryffindors

Brav’ry unmeasured

Look to those things

Which you have treasured

And all ye now

Listen to me

For in this time

Will battles be

If you shall fight

As one, the same

Then you can conquer

Him With No Name

Lily bit suddenly on her lip to keep the tears from pouring out, clutching unsteadily at the
table. A year ago, she would have found solace in her work or a book, but Lily knew that would not
do now. She had lost her closest friend, Dorcas, to the real world, and while Lily didn’t loathe
her roommates, nor were they her favorite people. No, she was quite alone.

Unless of course, you counted Potter.

Which she didn’t.

Under any circumstances.

Right?

~*~

Dumbledore stood up, smiling softly, but without the brightness that he usually contained. The
students fell silent, glancing towards their Headmaster with reverence. “So,” he began, just loud
enough to fill the hall, “we come upon a new year. I welcome you all back, and remind you of the
usual; the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden, and Mr. Filch has added seventy-three new items to
his list of banned objects. However, I also have more solemn news.” He folded his hands together,
surveying the hall silently. “Seventeen witches and wizards were murdered last night by Lord
Voldemort.” A collective gasp went around the hall, and several students bust into tears. “We give
our highest regards to Delia and Danielle Barnheart, Joanna Bones, Ellis and Jeremy Adkins,
Beatrice, Bill, and Derek Benson, Joshua Burns and Julia Summers, and finally, Garcias DeSaber.” By
now, three-quarters of the hall was sobbing, excluding the Slytherins and a few boys too ‘manly’ to
cry, though they would do so later. “We also remember the six others who died in the attacks.”

Suddenly, golden light was flowing throughout the room, collecting above Dumbledore’s head to
form words.

*We honor those who have fallen. We bless those who are harmed. We protect those who are
threatened.*

The words remained for a few more moments, and then they had gathered into a wide golden block,
and images appeared. There were images of Jeremy Adkins on the quidditch field, with a star save,
some with DeSaber scolding a student for harming a first year, others of Danielle summoning the
teacher’s lesson plan (which was greeted with a few chuckles), all memories of the fallen eleven.
It moved on, with a vision of St. Mungo’s, and an image of a hobbling boy on crutches. Finally,
Hogwarts came into sight, accompanied by snatches of moments still recent. Little things, like a
group of girls running giggling on the Express, or an image of a red-head as she twirled in the
rain, face uplifted to the sky. Finally, it showed the great hall now, all of them staring
reverently at the image. Golden letters flowed once more over the screen, like an old picture
film’s ‘the end’. *We are Hogwarts, leaders of many, students of four, united as one.*

The gold faded, picture along with it, and the hall was left speechless. Dumbledore returned to
his seat, quite content with such a reminder as an opening. Waving a hand, food appeared at the
tables, and shortly the students were digging heartily into the meal.

~*~

“First years, this way,” James called heartily over the crowd. “First year Gryffindors follow
me!”

A small crowd of tiny, nervous, food filled first years began to gather around James. He grinned
down at them encouragingly, before calling over their heads (which wasn’t at all hard), “Hey Evans,
d’you know how many first years we’ve got?”

“There’s eleven, Potter, don’t you count?” She snapped, striding towards the group with a scowl
on her face.

James leaned down to younger students and whispered, just loudly enough for Lily to hear him,
“Don’t worry, she’s only mean to me. She loves midgets, thinks they’re the funniest thing in the
world.”

Lily cuffed him over the head, causing a sharp, “Ow!” to emerge from James lips. He stood up,
glaring and rubbing the place where her hand had hit, rather hard.

“I do not,” she told him indignantly.

“Do not what?” He asked, tone aggravated and still in pain.

“Do not think they’re funny. I’m nice to them because *they* actually respect people.
Unlike *someone* I know.”

“Hey! I haven’t been disrespectful for a whole,” James paused, considering, “a whole day!
Almost. So there!”

Lily gave the tiniest of grins and shook her head, before turning back to the eleven, clustered
first years. *Wait a second… Evans just grinned at me! She **grinned** at me! Why isn’t the
sky falling? Where are the flying pigs?*

“Are you coming, Potter?” Lily’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to find that she
was already leading the new Gryffindors towards the doors. “Or are you going to stand there,
grinning like an idiot?”

James, still grinning like an idiot, proceeded to trot after the group.

“…And *that* was the prank of 1977!” James was describing, arms waving in the air, to a
wide-eyed first year girl. He had been explaining some of the Marauder’s greatest pranks since they
left the Great Hall, and capturing the attention and admiration of most of the first years.

“Ahem,” Lily said softly, “this is The Fat Lady.” They had halted in front of a huge portrait of
a rather obese woman in pink, who smiled and waved cheerily at the students. “Password, dear,” she
asked Lily?

“Flying pig,” she told the Fat Lady, who smiled and swung away from the entrance.

“Welcome,” Lily declared, “to the Gryffindor Common room.”

The young students stared in awe at their new home, eyes bright with interest. James turned
towards Lily, watching her face alight with the comfort of returning home. For this *was*
home; to her, to him, to Moony and Padfoot; it was their home, and the one place they were truly
comfortable.

The students scrambled eagerly in, but Lily and James made no move to follow. James remembered,
with a slight sinking of his stomach, that this year his home would not be where he slept each
night. *Who came up with the bloody idea of Head Dorms anyway? I’ll be dead before
Halloween!*

“C’mon, Potter,” Lily said from beside him, “I have no idea where that painting Dumbledore
mentioned is, so we’ll have to go and see him before we find it, and I *do* want to be asleep
before classes start tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about that,” James told her brightly, shoving aside the insecurities about leaving
the comfort of Gryffindor tower. “I know exactly where the painting is.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Lily asked wryly, shaking her head.

However, she followed James as he strode swiftly down corridors, through various doors, and up a
few staircases. Within a very short period of time, Lily found herself completely lost, and began
to wonder just *how* James could remember the exact path to a remote painting. She was about
to ask, before realizing that would mean conversing with Potter, and promptly shut her mouth.

It was only a short walk, though it had seemed a great deal longer, before they arrived in front
of a tall, slender portrait. The display was one of Hogwarts, almost completely surrounded by
woods, and surely a great deal smaller than it was today. But it was, most certainly, Hogwarts,
complete with the slender towers stretching towards an insurmountable sky and a lake where the
giant squid—considerably less giant—was swimming.

“The original Hogwarts,” James explained softly, “it’s funny, to see how much it’s changed.”

“It’s always been beautiful,” she murmured, admiring the portrait.

James smiled gently, watching her as her eyes roved over the painting again and again, admiring
all the tiniest details. The crimson locks of hair that she normally had pulled strictly back had
escaped her ministration today, and instead fell dazzlingly over her beautiful features. At that
moment, James could have spent eternity simply watching her.

Lily turned to face James, and immediately blushed, finding him staring at her as if entranced.
“Why do you always have to stare?” She questioned tartly, giving him a half-hearted glare.

“I get lost easy,” he told her, winking. Lily had no time to reprimand him, however, because he
immediately spoke the password to their new dorms, “Allman Brothers.***”

Lily grinned at the password, not being a huge music fan herself, but still finding it mildly
funny to hear the muggle name emerging from James Potter’s lips. However, her giggle faded as she
stepped inside the common room.

It was love at first sight. The room wasn’t all that large, but it had that quality that made
one feel as if they were perfectly at home, and perfectly safe. A fire roared quietly in the
fireplace, and the room was illuminated with a comfortable light. There were two cozy armchairs and
a small sofa, all dark red, surrounding a dark wood coffee table. The carpet was soft and cream
colored, while the walls were painted in a faint gold. Tapestries decorated the golden hue, one on
each side of two doors, each displaying one of the four Hogwarts founders. Or at least, she guessed
that was what they displayed, because of the names sewn elegantly into the foot of each tapestry.
However, all of the founders appeared to be gone, to Lily’s slight disappointment. The two doors,
on opposite ends of the room, each held a gold plague with the delicate inscription, either
*James Potter* or *Lily Evans*.

“It’s so cozy,” Lily cooed. “It makes me feel like Christmas!”

James laughed behind her, though it was not a mocking sound. Instead, he was laughing at the
pure eagerness of her voice as she exclaimed over something as simple as a room. She whirled to
face him, the firelight glinting off her strawberry hair, her face wearing a small scowl. “What are
you laughing at, James Potter?”

“James Potter, am I now? Wow, I must be moving up in the world,” he told her with a grin,
skirting her question.

“You’re insufferable.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I meant it.”

“I believe it.”

“Now, what were you laughing at?” She asked crossly, glaring at him.

*Damn those glaring eyes*, he thought silently. *Doesn’t she realize what they do to me?
All filled with fire, and passion, and gold sparking through their intricate designs of wild limes,
emeralds, forests, and jade. It’s unbelievable. She’s unbelievable.*

*Not that she’d ever let me tell her that.*

“Just laughing over your enthusiasm, that’s all. It’s cute,” James grinned at her, tweaking her
hair playfully.

She swatted his hand away, scowling in order to hide the smile that was threatening to emerge.
“Stop it, or you’ll end up tied by your ankles to the ceiling.” She twirled her wand, a mischievous
glint in her gaze, “I’ve been wanting to try that spell out.”

He raised his hands in defense, taking a step back. “No, I think I’ll skip that experiment. I
think my nice, new, cozy bed sounds much more welcoming.”

James swept towards the door to his left, carefully sneaking a few last glimpses of her. Just as
his hand hit the doorknob, he heard her ask curiously from behind him, “Potter, where was the
beginning of the year prank?”

He turned his head back to face her, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t notice the big, gold,
square with all the moving pictures?”

“That was you?” She sounded shocked, perhaps even a little bit confused. “But… it wasn’t cruel,
or annoying, or remotely funny.”

“Surprising as it sounds, we do have hearts, Evans. I just thought this was more…
appropriate.”

“Oh,” Lily said softly, glancing at the carpet and adding timidly, “well, I thought it was
rather sweet.”

James looked on, with quite a bit of astonishment, as Lily scurried into her room. Slowly, he
edged through his door, shutting it quietly behind him before lying atop the covers of his elegant
bed. *Lily Evans just said something I did was sweet. Lily Evans…! Oh, dear Merlin*, his
thinking paused, and a content smile spread over his face, *I love that girl.*



4. Three:  Always
-----------------

**Important** Author’s Notes!: Okay, so I hate describing classes. Here’s the deal—their
schedule is different from modern HP. They have one super long class before lunch, and one super
long class after. NEWT classes are like Advanced Placement classes, and they combine a few select
students from all four houses, and are not taught by the regular teachers. Got it? Good. Also, I’ll
warn you, the first half of this chapter is awful. I rewrote three times, and still hate it.
Hopefully, the second half makes up for it.

Disclaimer: No, it’s not mine. Hopefully you know that by now. Want to sue? Well, you’ll win a
grand prize, shiny, 1988 penny!

Chapter Title: Three; Always

Chapter Summary: The first day of classes. Oh what fun.

Chapter Written: January 26, 2004

~*~

*Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone*

--Crash and Burn, Savage Garden

~*~

Sirius, Remus, and Peter hurried into the Great Hall reasonably early, surprised to find James
already seated at the table. His head was in his hands, and he lounged as if barely awake. Remus
slid into the seat across from him, Sirius next to him, and Peter beside Remus. “Something wrong?”
Remus asked, giving James a worried glance before adding sausage to his plate.

“Hmm?” James looked up, as if he hadn’t noticed them arrive, “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong. I just
didn’t sleep much.”

“Looks more like you didn’t sleep at all,” Remus pointed out.

“Yea, that might be it.” James offered them a weary grin, “I think I spent the entire night
trying to figure out something I already knew.”

“What?” Remus asked curiously.

“It’s nothing,” he told him offhandedly, then avoided the subject by elbowing Sirius. “Padfoot,
mate, if you eat any faster you won’t be able to the taste the food.”

“Tafes goo’ t’me,” Sirius replied, voice muffled by his mouthful of pancakes.

James grinned and piled pancakes onto his own plate, and began eating them at a much more
reasonable pace.

“Oh,” he said in-between bites, “we got our schedules.” He tossed them all a piece of parchment
labeled with their names. However, none of them even began to open it. James, finishing up, stared
at the roll of classes between fingertips. “First year with different schedules,” he said
softly.

For the past six years, they had taken the exactly same classes. They had taken the required
classes, and had taken identical electives, but things changed this year. Sirius and James were
continuing Care of Magical Creatures, while Remus and Peter were instead taking Herbology. What
created even more difficulties was the fact that seventh year students had a choice of either NEWT
prep classes or basic classes, and the NEWT preparatory classes required extremely high OWL and
practical magic exam scores, along with the teacher’s personal decision to accept you. NEWT classes
spent almost no time on theory, and if you couldn’t perform a spell, then you were thrown out.
Suffice to say, they were nearly impossible to get placed in, and even harder to remain in.

Remus, glancing around the table, pondered which of them might be accepted into some of these
classes. He had strong doubts that Peter had made any NEWT class except, perhaps, Herbology, which
he had a surprising knack for. Of course, it was also the only class the others weren’t taking,
instead enrolling in Potions. Sirius, well, he was powerful enough, but getting the teacher’s
recommendation would be entirely difficult for him. James, you could never tell with James. He was
probably the most powerful of the quartet, but he rarely showed it in his classes. Remus blinked as
he glanced down at his own parchment. Theory was his strongest point, and while he was an excellent
wizard, it was due mostly to long hours of practice and research. It was possible that he wouldn’t
make it, because it relied so much on simply being able to perform automatically.

“Alright,” Sirius whispered softly, “let’s see what we’ve got.”

As one, they unrolled the parchments and stared at their fortune. Peter spoke up first, “I made
NEWT Herbology!” He seemed extremely delighted, beady eyes lighting up with joy. “Ha, you owe me a
sickle, Padfoot! You said I wouldn’t make any NEWT classes!”

Sirius snickered and tossed a sickle at him, as if throwing a coin to beggar. “Good for you,
Wormtail. I’ve got NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, and
Transfiguration.”

“Excellent,” Moony said briskly, “I made Defense, Herbology, and NEWT Potions. It’s too bad
about Transfiguration, but it’s not quite my forte.”

They all turned to James, who was staring wordlessly at his new schedule, as if in shock. “What
is, Prongs?” Sirius asked, snatching the parchment from his hands. “Blimey!” Sirius cried, “How’d
you manage all these? NEWT Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Care of Magical
Creatures, *and* Charms, that’s all your classes!”

Remus’s brows rose, surprised at the news; being enlisted in NEWT level of every class you had
was rare indeed.

“Yea,” James said softly, “so what d’you all start with?”

“Basic Charms, and then Basic Potions,” Sirius told him. “No classes with you today, mate.”

“I’ll have Potions with you,” Remus told James, “though I have Charms with Sirius and
Peter.”

“Great, NEWT Charms and no friends, what luck I have,” James said sulkily.

“Evans will have made NEWT Charms, it’s her best subject,” Sirius concluded. “That should be
fun, trapped with Evans for the whole morning. She won’t be able to escape you.” Sirius smirked at
James, “You got a plan of attack?”

“Yes,” James gave Sirius a small glare, “be there. Meadows is out of Hogwarts now, she’s gonna
need someone eventually. I’ll be there, whenever she does.”

“That’s it?” Sirius cried incredulously, “That’s not an attack, that’s a bleeding bout of boring
patience and friendship! It’ll never work, what girl wants a serious relationship when you can just
shag every night?”

Remus snorted, “Not every girl goes for the ‘let’s shag for a few weeks before I find someone
better in bed’ approach, Padfoot.”

“No, *Evans* doesn’t go for that. Apart from her, there’s not a girl in the school who’d
deny that kind of… passion. Romance is for *after* school,” Sirius shot back.

“Maybe,” Remus said calmly, “just eat, Sirius. We have to leave for charms in five minutes.”

Sirius dug heartily into his breakfast, oblivious to the looks of humored exasperation that
Remus and James shared.

~*~

Lily practically flew down the hallway, charms book clutched to her chest, and desperate to get
the classroom in time. NEWT Charms was located in a different room, as both Basic and NEWT were in
session simultaneously. *You would think*, Lily said silently as she rushed down the corridor,
*that in my seventh year I would know my way to each classroom. Yet here I am, about to be late
to my first class. Bloody hell.*

There was the door, she pulled it open swiftly, panting slightly and attempting to collect her
breath. By all appearances, she was not late, as the atmosphere in the room was casual and the few
students seated within were chatting quietly amongst themselves. She glanced around, searching for
an empty seat, and felt her stomach sink. *Of course the last seat would be next to Potter. My
luck is just dazzling.*

Sighing, she resigned herself to stride over, drop her books carelessly onto the table, and drop
huffily into the chair. He turned to face her, grinning lightly, “Hello, Evans. Have a nice
run?”

She glared in response, and was planning an attack of her own when the door opened. Thirteen
students spun to face their new teacher, and grinned in relief as Dumbledore lowered himself into
the desk.

“I suppose,” he began with a tiny smile, “that you’ve been told dreadful stories of the NEWT
Charms teachers. How can I blame you, when most are so foreign that you can’t understand their
English?” A few giggles erupted around the classroom. “This year, however, you will not be taught
by a Charms Master, but by me. I have decided, due to recent events, that instead of teaching my
students diversity I shall teach you myself.” A Ravenclaw in the front row wiped away a tear, and
all were solemn in light of these ‘recent events’.

“Perhaps you’ve heard that NEWT classes are incredibly challenging, and that by spring at least
half of you will no longer be in this class. It is true. I have no doubt that this class will be
more difficult than ever before, because you *must* be prepared. If you want to remain, you
will have to work impossibly hard. Most of you will need aid in order to stay another three weeks,
I suggest you get it. Despite the effort needed, in the end, it will be worth it. When you are
facing the world outside this castle, it will be worth it.”

They all sat silently throughout his speech, eyes locked on their headmaster. When he halted, a
few traded looks; many nervous, a few determined. When their gazes returned to Dumbledore, he
smiled. “Pair off with the person beside you, you’re about to learn how to create a glamour.”

James glanced to Lily, and she could read the surprise in his eyes. A glamour was similar to
such things as the Polyjuice Potion, except that you didn’t actually change your appearance.
Instead, you changed the worlds perception of you. It was far more complicated than any form of
figure-altering potion, and also considerably less painful—if you could perform correctly. The
talent of creating a glamour was incredibly rare.

“Very good,” Dumbledore said as they stood up to face their partner. “Before we begin, ask
yourself a question. Do you trust this person? They will be your partner for the remainder of the
year, and if you’re answer is no then I suggest you change that very swiftly. Many later charms
will require complete trust, and will be completely impossible without full confidence in the
other.”

*Oh great, I have to have complete trust in **Potter** in order to pass. I hope he fails
soon, or else we won’t be able to perform the slightest spell.*

James only gave Lily a small grin. “How are you, Evans?”

“Fine,” she growled.

“Ready to attempt a glamour?”

“If it will change *your* ugly face, why not?”

He winced, “That’s harsh, Evans.” He didn’t seem to mind, because he suddenly grinned at her
scowling features. “Of course, I wouldn’t change you a bit. You’re the loveliest person I’ve ever
met.”

“Shut it, Potter, and pay attention,” she snapped, annoyed that he was complimenting her. He had
no right to tell her she was lovely, the arrogant bastard.

“Whoever is sitting on the left side, your left, will be the first to attempt the spell. Look at
your partner, and try to decide which of their features is most noticeable to you at first
glance.”

James, sitting on the left, didn’t even need to look at Lily to know that her eyes were her most
entrancing features. He turned his head to face her anyway, giving her a charming smile. “Seems to
me staring is good for school, Evans. Aren’t you proud of me, practicing over the summer?”

Lily glared furiously, causing him to want to bite back his words. “Sorry, couldn’t help it,”
James said dejectedly.

“Now, the incantation is very simple. When concentrating on only one feature, you need only say
the words ‘mutatio visum’. The wand should remain entirely still, directed at the main feature
which you are attempting to alter. As you say mutatio, creating an image within your mind of the
feature, and *only* the feature. If you are attempting to change your partner’s hair, do not
envision their face. If you do so, the glamour will alter the perception of both hair *and*
face. When you say visum, change the feature within your mind. If you want to change the hair color
of a person, then imagine it as it changed from blonde to brown—“

“Wait a second,” James glanced from Lily to Dumbledore. “Isn’t that exactly the same steps
that’s listed in books that can be used to do things like,” he glanced tentatively at Lily, “like
changing people’s hair to crimson and adding gold sparkles? Only that doesn’t have the incantation,
it’s just this weird wand twist…”

He halted as people stared at him, though Dumbledore was smilingly amusedly. “You’ve performed
it before, James?”

“Yes,” he replied hesitantly, still unnerved by the eyes on him.

“It is the same spell. Most people learn the incantation first, then how to do it silently. The
silent version is older, and more difficult, because it required concentration with movement
instead of with speech. Could you, perhaps, demonstrate?”

“Er, sure, I guess.” *Demonstrate? I’ve never had to do anything in front of a class; the
whole point is to go unnoticed so when you don’t do the homework, they aren’t disappointed that
such a ‘fine student’ is being irresponsible. Ack! Scary!* He turned to Lily, biting his lip,
and she was slightly surprised at the nervous look in his eyes. Thirteen pairs of eyes on his for,
James took a deep breath, and calmly flicked the wand directed on Lily Evans eyes.

A moment later, they were sparking a vibrant violet shade, and he was still alive. “Merlin, I
hate audiences,” Lily heard him mumble.

Dumbledore smiled, “Excellent, James. Was their any pain, Lily?”

“No,” she responded calmly, as she picked up a mirror that had been sitting on the desk and
stared at her now purple eyes. “A sort of tingle, but it was brief.”

“Splendid work, Mr. Potter; remove the charm, and please assist Miss Evans.” Dumbledore relayed
his instructions, the strolled to the first pair in order to help them.

Lily stood still as he removed the charm, with considerable ease now that people were no longer
staring. “Alright, Evans, want to give it a go?”

“Sure,” she said coldly, directing her wand at his hair. “Let’s see if I can change that
horrible mess on your head.”

James grinned lopsidedly at her, and for a second, just as she was beginning, she felt her words
falter. It was an adorable little grin, with none of his cockiness and filled instead with a sort
of sweet laughter. “Mutatio visum,” she said solidly, trying to imagine first his ebony, tousled
locks and then picturing them as they straightened and fell smoothly in place.

It didn’t work.

“Damn it,” she whispered fiercely.

“Don’t worry, me and Moony spent the entire train ride trying to figure out how to do it
properly,” James said, trying to be comforting.

“Yes, but you were *first years*, and it’s a *NEWT* level spell, that you could do it
only in a few hours is *amazing*.”

He didn’t mention that it had actually taken him all of two tries to change his father’s hair to
pink, or that Sirius had gotten it on his own first try. It would make her feel entirely
disappointed with herself, if she believed him at all.

“Okay, so try it again. Only first, say the words a few times. Make sure you *know* them,
so you don’t have to concentrate on the pronunciation or anything. Then, when you’re thinking of
the change, really *want* it to happen. Don’t just imagine it, *do* it.”

Lily blinked and, much to James’s shock, began to mutter the spell to herself. After a few
minutes of repetition, she turned towards him again, and followed his instructions.

A moment later, his normally windblown hair fell in a smooth, almost Sirius-like style around
his face. Lily beamed, thrusting the mirror into his hand.

James eyes widened, and his hand flew to his head. “Ah! What did you do to my hair, Evans!
Change it back!”

Lily laughed, happy enough with her success to comment, “Alright, I guess it looks better the
other way anyway.”

Dumbledore had arrived beside the pair, smiling. “Beautiful work, Miss Evans, the reverse is
much simpler. You need only repeat mutatio visum, and imagine the hair returning to its original
form.”

Lily did as commanded, and James sighed in relief as his hair returned to its wildly artistic
style. They spent the rest of the class changing each other into incredibly grotesque creations,
and then proceeding to laugh.

Much to her surprise, Lily Evans had a great deal of fun.

~*~


Sirius left lunch grinning, having spent the entire time laughing with James over James’s new
favorite class, Charms. *I’m glad Evans is finally starting to warm up a bit, maybe James will
finally get a girl. I don’t understand it, the waiting just for one person. Moony and Prongs are
bloody insane.*

He was about to eat his… thoughts.

Sirius slid casually into a seat in the back of the potions classroom, tilting his stool back on
a single peg as Peter shuffled into the place beside him. Sirius glanced around the room, sighing.
*Dumbledore’s stuck us with Slytherin again. Doesn’t the old fool realize that it’s only ten
times easier to hex them this way?*

“Hey Miranda, you look nice today, new robes?” Sirius leaned forward, towards the charming
brunette Gryffindor sitting in front of him.

She giggled, “Actually, it’s Marissa, and the robes are the same ones as always, silly. Everyone
wears the same thing!”

“Really? I couldn’t tell, you make them look so dazzling.” He gave her charming smile, and she
blushed as bright Rudolph’s nose.

“Are you flirting with me, Sirius Black?” Marissa asked, giggling cheerfully as her grey eyes
chirped with elated mirth.

“I do believe I am, Miss Marissa.”

At that moment, Professor Gutenhiem swept into the door, stroking his rather large black
mustache. Gutenhiem was a mammoth man, swelling in both height and fat. He had blotchy, reddish
skin barely hidden under too-tight grey robes. The man had next to no hair, except for a massive,
pointy mustache. He was also incredibly, almost unbelievably, loud.

“Listen up everyone!” His voice roared, much like the roar of a rabid bear. The class
immediately fell silent. “We’re going to do a few review potions this week, starting with something
easy, the Shrinking Solution. Now, I’ve got you all paired off, listen up!”

“Damn it,” Sirius muttered, “I hate it when they pair us up, it’s always bloody awful—“

“Black, Howling!”

“—fun,” Sirius decided, changing his mind swiftly. Howling looked on with distaste as he
sauntered over the seat beside her, giving her an aristocratically undeniable smile as he sat. “So,
Howling, having a good day?”

“Not anymore,” she responded coldly.

“I’m hurt,” Sirius replied, “care to make it up to me later?”

“No,” Crystal pointed to the items she had laid out, “start chopping, Black.”

No? This was going to be harder than he thought. Obediently, he set to slicing an ingredient,
hardly managing a silent minute before his efforts began again. “Have you heard the new song on the
radio, the one by—“

“Shut up, Black.”

He gaped. She was sitting there, coolly adding something to the cauldron, completely unaffected
by his attempts. Howling looked very pretty; he had to admit, with her dark hair crossing over
equally dark eyes and shading much of her face from view. If she hadn’t been a Slytherin, he might
actually have been serious about his playful conversation.

“You make any NEWT classes?”

“Do you not understand shut up? I’m busy, Black, and you should be too,” Crystal snapped.

“Looking upon your lovely face makes me want to spout sonnets of absolute jo—“

Sirius found his mouth draw shut as she turned to face him, her eyes holding an eerie amount of
steel. “Are you flirting with me?” Crystal did sound at all like Marissa had. Her tone was cold,
blunt, and coated with dangerous warning.

However, Sirius was not about to be deterred, “Yes, I am.”

“Stop. Now.”

“Why?”

“Because the thought of you flirting with me is repelling. *You* are a disgusting,
horrendous creature. Moreover, you are an energetic, emotionally buoyant *Gryffindor* that has
absolutely no sense of the real world and delights in kicking those that do.”

Sirius sat speechlessly, head cocked slightly to the side, studying the woman who so blatantly
loathed every point of his existence. For a moment, he knew what Prongs felt, facing the full scorn
of someone so passionate about their anger. It frightened him, greatly.

And he liked it.

~*~

James ambled into Potions, enthusiastically discussing NEWT Charms with Remus. Or rather, his
partner in NEWT Charms. “It was so amazing Moony,” James was saying for the tenth time, “I mean,
she *smiled*. Then she *laughed*. A *lot*. Have you seen her smile? It’s so
perfect—“

“Prongs, mate, I suggest you shut up before she hears you.” Remus nudged James, pointing to
where Lily sat, quietly discussing something with a rather shy Ravenclaw.

James grinned stupidly in her direction, though Lily took no notice, absorbed in her
conversation and facing the opposite direction of James’s delight. “Two classes with her, Moony!
Can you believe it?”

Remus laughed, “You’ve had every class with her for six years, and you choose this year to be a
fool about it. You’re an odd one, Prongs.” Remus took a seat in the back of the small classroom,
James falling into the one next to him. “I wonder who will be teaching this year,” Remus mused.

“No idea,” James replied, “probably some old, withered bloke who looks like he’d topple over at
any second.”

The door opened again, and a young, rather beautiful woman entered. She looked about twenty,
with chestnut brown hair half drawn into a bun, loose strands splaying delicately about her face.
The slender, loose robes of pale green that she wore fell nicely over her tall, elegant frame. She
threw a few heavy volumes carelessly onto the desk and turned to face the class, silvery irises
glinting cheerfully.

“Andry?!” James choked out, blinking several times, “What are you doing here?”

“Teaching, James,” their new potions mistress explained. “It’s a wonderful opportunity, and I’ve
been studying in the east for three years, so I can qualify.”

The class had turned to observe this greeting, and Andromeda Black seemed to suddenly realize
that a dozen and a half eyes had suddenly turned upon her. “Heh, hello,” she began a bit anxiously.
“I’ll be the NEWT potions teacher this year, obviously.” She glanced around, “I know most of you
already, I think. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Andromeda Black, or I suppose Miss
Black is more appropriate now. I graduated a Ravenclaw and Head Girl a few years ago, and was in
China for the past few years studying advanced potions. So,” she lifted one of the large books on
her desk and flipped to a page near the beginning. Waving her wand at the letters, then the board,
instructions for a rather difficult potion formed. “Let’s begin, shall we? Hopefully this shouldn’t
be too hard.”

James and Remus had just started when she swept over to their table. “It is the right sort of
thing to start out with, right?” Andromeda asked quietly, “I wasn’t sure. I’ve never taught before,
so it’s a bit odd…”

“It’s good, An—Miss Black.” James paused his work, and gave a funny face, “That sounds so
weird.”

“I agree, but it’ll have to do. How is Sirius doing? Still getting into more trouble than he’s
worth?”

James tossed something into his cauldron, “Not more than he’s worth, but I’m sure trouble will
soon be in order. Does he know you’re here?”

“No, it was pretty sudden. I think Dumbledore had someone else, but they couldn’t make it.” She
turned towards Remus, “You’re Lupin, right? Ron Lupin, or something?”

“Remus Lupin,” he offered, “Who’d you study with in China?”

“Ming Cha, she specializes in—“

“Healing, specifically work on curing or controlling lycanthropy, I know.” Remus paused, then
asked casually, “Is she getting anywhere?”

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of her, she’s not very well known. We were getting close though,
just before I left. Cha was working on a sort of sedative, something to calm a werewolf when they
transform.” Black smiled faintly, “I feel terrible for those that have it. It’s an awful
disease.”

James glanced towards Remus, finding his friend bearing an expression of deep concentration.
“I’d better go,” Andromeda told the pair, “else I’ll be accused of neglecting everyone else.”

“You okay mate?” James asked Remus once Andromeda was out of earshot.

“Sure,” Lupin turned bright eyes towards his friend. “Wonder if they really are getting
somewhere on that sedative thing. It would make it lot easier on you ‘n Padfoot.”

“Yea, and you...” James trailed off, noting the distant look on his friend’s face.

A knock came unexpectedly on the door, and Andry bustled to open it. “Hello?”

“Hello,” the voice belonged to a squeaky, chipmunk-like first year Gryffindor James recognized
as Alcorn. The poor bloke was terribly excited about quidditch, and knew almost nothing about it,
being a muggle born. “Headmaster wants to see James Potter and Lily Evans, he said.”

James and Lily stood, beginning to gather their things. “I’ll dispose of the contents of your
cauldrons, for now. If you get back to late then we’ll find another time you can work on it,”
Andromeda waved her wand, vanishing the ingredients that could potentially be dangerous if left to
sit.

James followed the first year from the room, Lily trailing a few paces behind. They walked in
silence until reaching the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, and Alcorn called, “Cauldron Cakes,”
leaving James and Lily to ascend the stairs alone.

Entering the office, James smiled comfortably. He had been here too many times to count, and
found it no less fascinating on each visit. There was a presence in the room, one that spoke of
ancient creations, and yet one that was a modern as tomorrow.

He leaned against the back of one chair, leaving Lily to settle in the other. For a moment, he
risked her to wrath to watch her as she gazed wide-eyes around the room.

“Hello Mr. Potter, Miss Evans,” Dumbledore greeted them, emerging from a corner unseen. His
expression was somber, as James was starting to considerably more frequently. “How are you
both?”

“Fine,” Lily replied quietly, leaving James to echo her with a similar response.

“Good, good,” he offered a small smile, taking the place behind his desk. “I hope I didn’t
disturb your class too terribly.”

“No,” it was James turn to answer, “besides, it’s not like And—Miss Black minds.”

“No, I didn’t believe she would.” Dumbledore turned his translucent, pale blue eyes on James. “I
have a proposition I’m obliged to offer you, James.”

“Proposition?”

“The position of quidditch captain is free again,” he stated flatly.

James puzzled over his tone for a moment, then stated, “You don’t want me to take it.”

“No.”

“Why not?” He asked curiously, though he had a vague idea as to why.

“You will be busy enough as it is. You still have work to do,” Albus reminded him.

James waved a carelessly hand, “I still remember. It’s under control, don’t worry.” He sighed,
and ran a hand roughly through his hair, “Couldn’t even captain one good year. Oh well, there’s
also professional. I’ll let Sirius have it then, aye?”

“Yes, I do believe Mr. Black sounds like an excellent candidate.” Dumbledore nodded, before
turning his focus to Lily. “I need to speak with Lily alone now, James. It will only be a
minute.”

James grinned in agreement, grabbed his books, and half jumped down the stairs. Once he reached
the bottom, however, he found himself in a dilemma. Should he wait for Lily, or just head to back
potions? On the one hand, leaving would seem cold and a bit rude, while staying might make him
appear clingy and awkward. Pacing in front of the stone entrance, he was quite shocked when Lily
suddenly rushed down the stairs, shoving him to the side as she flew down the corridor.

He blinked. She was crying… Oh no, Lily was *crying.* In a heartbeat, he was dashing madly
after her, a scene becoming more common for the pair. Robes fluttering behind him, James raced
through hallway after hallway, unable to catch the nimble girl. At last, she entered the head
common room, leaving him to leap breathlessly in behind her.

Lily had crumpled onto the sofa, tears pouring her down her cheeks as sobs wrecked her petite
figure. Her face was buried in her hands, and she was rocking delicately, back and forth on the
furniture. The grief poured from her in the form of saltwater, coating her hands and robes.

Hesitantly, James drew nearer. “Lily?” He spoke softly, edging slowly closer, “Lily, what’s
wrong?” If anything, her tears only poured harder, wails drawing a touch louder. “Lily?” He tried
again, now stopping several inches from her rocking frame.

“Mrs. Meadows,” she managed to gasp out. “Mrs. Meadows, one of those others… Oh!” Lily burst
into hiccupping gasps.

James kneeled slowly, taking up an almost squatting position. “Mrs. Meadows? Was she?—oh
no.”

She let out a cry, causing James to wince. James drew one hand away from her teary face, slowly,
clasping in both of his own. “Oh, I’m so sorry Lily. I know what Dorcas, what her mother, what that
must mean…” He tried to imagine Remus’s mother dead, and fought the thought terrifying. A friend’s
parents were simply family that you weren’t blood related to, to lose them… “I’m so sorry, Lily.”
He stoked her hand, running gentle fingers in circles over her palm.

“You don’t know,” Lily choked out, “you don’t understand. You can’t understand. She… you
*can’t* understand…”

“I know,” he told her softly, “I don’t understand. But I can try. I—“

“No, you *can’t*!” She cried, “You *can’t*! You just need to leave me alone, Potter!
Just *leave me **alone***!”

He paused, then, ever so softly, reached out to brush her hair with his fingertips, pushing it
gently behind her ear. The other hand continued to hold hers, while he tenderly let the other
stroke her hair over and over. “I know you don’t want me here Lily, but I am. Whether you want me
or not, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you Lily. Always.”



5. Four:  Drawing Closer
------------------------

Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to the all-knowing JKR.

Chapter Title: Four; Drawing Closer

Chapter Summary: A discussion, a project, and a plea.

Chapter Written: February 5, 2004

~*~

*Caught in a winter’s rain
I can't remember a word you said
Take away my fear please hold on to me
I'm falling
Falling*

--Black Sunday, Cold

~*~

“Morning, love,” a rather chipper voice interrupted Lily’s vague thoughts. She had only just
awoken, and was still rather disoriented. Peeling her eyes slowly open, she considered whatever she
could remember, thoughts hazy with exhaustion.

“Huh?” Lily managed rather sleepily, still trying to figure everything out. Suddenly, she
realized that her head was resting in someone’s lap… in the voice’s lap… in *Potter’s* lap.
Lily sat up immediately, awakened out of her tired state by the sheer, horrifying thought.

Potter seemed to be reading her face, because he quickly threw up his hands, as if shielding
himself from the menacing glare Lily was now delivering. “Don’t hex me, please, Evans. You fell
asleep, and I figured you would need some rest. I just didn’t want to wake you up.”

James couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, tell her that his lack of persuasive awakening was not due
solely to the fact that she had just lost someone as dear to her as a mother. He wouldn’t even dare
to mention that he had let her sleep partly because of the way the hair fell over her face,
cascading in gentle waves over her tranquil face. The words would never pass his mouth that when
she was sleeping, her slender torso rising and falling with every slender breath, that he felt more
at home, more surrounded by comfort, than he had ever felt before. James couldn’t possibly explain
that, as she was sleeping, he actually felt true *peace*, in every inch of his body.

Lily sighed, and gave a little yawn. “What time is it, anyway?”

James checked the wizarding watch on his rest, blinking in surprise. “It’s four o’clock,” he
declared.

“What?! I missed all of potions?!”

James chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s four in the *morning*. You missed potions a long
time ago, Evans,” he paused as her stomach suddenly rumbled. “And you missed dinner,” he pointed
out.

She looked slightly startled, then gave him a suspicious and slightly befuddled glance. “You
stayed here?” She could hardly believe that *any* Marauder would miss a meal, as all of them,
even Remus, seemed to need a great deal more food than anyone else in the school. *He’s probably
just lying so I won’t curse him for… for displays of affection.*

“I didn’t want you waking up alone.”

That effectively cut off Lily’s thoughts, and the sincere tone with which he spoke made it hard
for her to doubt him. She met his eyes; her own filled with bafflement, not understanding this
considerably more sweet side of James. “Oh,” she replied softly.

There was a long, awkward pause, in which Lily tried to sort through the puzzle of James Potter
and he attempted to figure out exactly what she was thinking. This went on for several minutes,
until both began to grow uncomfortable. However, Lily’s stomach attempted a small ice breaker when
it rumbled more loudly, demanding nourishment.

“Want to grab a bite to eat? I know how to get to the kitchens,” James suggested.

Lily stared at him for a seemingly interminable pause, before finally offering a reluctant
nod.

James smiled tentatively, then stood and strode to the door, glancing behind him to make sure
Lily was following. Her gaze, that had been on his back and now met his eyes, was queer. It writhed
with surprise, uncertainty, confusion, and almost… *hope**?* He wasn’t quite sure.

It took her a moment, to realize that he had caught her staring, and she immediately blushed.
However, James made no comment, and Lily rose to follow him in silence.

Not a word was spoken over the entire course of their walk, and though James followed habit and
surreptitiously snuck glances at Lily, on occasion he was both amused and shocked to find her
glancing at him. Of course, her eyes bore nothing of the adoration in his, but rather assessment.
It was unnerving, but James found himself satisfied with the mere fact that she was looking at him
out of her own free will.

Finally, their stroll drew to a halt before a rather large portrait of a fruit bowl. Evans
raised an eyebrow when he stopped, but said nothing. He began to wonder if she was being silent for
the sheer pleasure of creeping him out, or whether she was actually deep in thought. Leaning over
slightly, he tickled the pear, and grinned at Lily’s surprise when the kitchens entrance
appeared.

“Welcome,” James drawled in a stately voice, “to Hogwarts Kitchens.” He bowed, acting the
perfect chaperone, and Lily gave a small laugh before entering.

James followed behind her, and within moments a squeaky, energetic house elf was before the
pair. “Mr. Potter!” the elf squeaked, “so good to have you back, Mr. Potter!”

James smiled at the jittery creature, “Hello, Cringle. How have you been?”

The elf beamed at James’s remembrance, “Cringle is doing wonderfully, Mr. Potter! Can he help
you with anything, Mr. Potter?”

He nodded, “D’you have anyplace to sit? And some food would be great, whatever Lily wants.”

Cringle turned to grin elatedly at Lily, “Hello, Miss! What would you like, Miss?”

Lily smiled affectionately at the bright elf, and requested, “Could you get us some chicken
noodle soup, Cringle? Oh, and pickles would be really nice.”

James smothered a laugh at her pickles, causing Lily to give him a little glare. Cringle broke
up any idea of argument when he grabbed Lily’s hand and began to drag her towards a table that had
suddenly appeared further into the kitchen. “Please, come Miss! We can get you pickles, yes, and
chicken noodle soup!”

Lily slid into a seat at the small table, James taking the one across from her. Their food came
swiftly, a bowl of chicken noodle soup for each, and a large container of pickles. Lily and James
both ate quietly for several minutes, before Lily let her spoon rest and asked broke the quiet.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked softly.

“Well, people normally eat when they get hungry—“ James began.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Why are you… being nice, and helping me?”

It was getting tiresome, not being able to tell her what he felt. If he had, Lily might have
learned that he’d leap into lava just to stare into her eyes for a heartbeat, or die one-thousand
deaths only to see her smile. If he would just be more courageous, to tell her how strongly he
felt, she might have learned that he was in love with her.

But he was not so brave.

“Someone has to,” James offered in reply.

“I’m not a lost puppy looking for company, Potter,” she snapped.

“Whoa, slow down Evans. It’s just that you don’t have many friends—“

“I do too!”

“—here. All of you’re friends are intelligent, mature, and older than you. They’ve already left
Hogwarts,” he explained.

“I *have* friends,” she stated indignantly.

“You have acquaintances. What you need, Lily, is someone to be there when you need more than
help with your homework. You need someone for more than a discussion of the weather. You need
someone to listen to you, when you need it more than any book or spell. I want to be that
person.”

~*~

James arrived at breakfast quite late. The Marauders were already seated, and glanced up as
James slid into the seat beside Remus’s. “You better eat fast, Prongs,” Remus stated, “we have to
be at Potions soon.”

“I know,” James responded lazily, his mind clearly elsewhere. “I ate earlier.”

They all followed his gaze, to where it rested on Lily Evans. She was sitting alone at the far
end of the table, head cupped in one hand. Her gaze was distant, staring off at some remote image
in her mind. She, too, had gone nowhere near her food.

Sirius spun to James immediately, and proceeded in interrogation. “What happened, Prongs?”

“Nothing, Padfoot,” James told him calmly, slowly drawing his eyes away from Lily.

“Where were you yesterday at dinner?” Remus attempted.

“Busy,” he responded carelessly.

“With what?”

James was silent, and began to sense the anticipation held in all of his friends. “It was
nothing, really.”

“I think we can make that decision for ourselves,” Peter declared.

“Yea,” Sirius agreed, “so what happened?”

James drew his hand slowly through his hair, and then sighed. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not mine to tell,” James replied, growing angry with Sirius’s persistence.

“But—“

“Back off, Padfoot,” James growled. He stood, storming rather exasperatedly out of the Great
Hall.

Sirius made to follow, but Remus halted such actions, “Leave him alone, Sirius.”

“He’s not allowed to hide secrets, it’s the code!” Sirius cried, tossing his hands in the air
for emphasis.

“One, we don’t have a code Sirius. Two, Prongs needs some time to cool off, he looks tired.
Three, he said it’s not his secret to tell, and you know how he can be about loyalty.” Remus met
Sirius’s puppy-like gaze with forceful eyes, not giving an inch.

“But Moony, he’s supposed to be loyal to *us*. Y’know, by telling us what’s going on!”

“No, Padfoot,” Remus demanded, and a staring war ensued. In the end, Sirius backed down, and
lowered himself grumpily into his chair.

“Fine,” he muttered, “destroy my curiously enthusiastic behavior then. See if *I*
mind.”

The next five minutes proceeded in perfect silence, before the trio departed for classes.

~*~

James and Sirius entered Transfiguration, having just finished lunch. They were currently
plotting techniques for the quidditch team, as Sirius had recently been informed of his new
Captainship.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird though, mate?” Sirius mentioned offhand.

“What?”

“Well, them choosing me as captain. You’re a better player,” Sirius explained.

James shrugged carelessly, “Probably thought you were a better strategist. I don’t know.
Personally, Padfoot, I’m glad I’m not captain. Too much bloody work.”

“Work,” Sirius paled, “it requires work?”

James chuckled and slapped him on the back, “Good luck, Padfoot.”

They took their seats, and James glanced around at the room’s occupants. One Ravenclaw was
already seated, chatting with three Hufflepuffs. Huddled in the corner were two Slytherins, to whom
Sirius and James shot a nasty glare. The final student hurried through the door, her crimson mass
of waves streaming down her back.

Lily glanced around the room, eyes flickering between the seat beside Potter and the one next to
a Hufflepuff. Then, much to everyone’s surprise, Lily strode purposefully towards the seat beside
James. She slid into it calmly, setting down her book and retrieving a quill from her bag before
looking up to meet a collection of wide-eyed stares. “What?”

The Hufflepuff boy spoke up, “Er, there’s a seat over here, Lily.”

She blinked, and nodded to the boy, *William Johnson*, she reminded herself. “I know,
Will.”

He paused, then glanced over to where James was staring blankly at Lily. “Er,” Will said softly,
“then why are you sitting by Potter?”

“Better view,” Evans responded calmly.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “We’re in a horseshoe, Lily. They’re all the same
view.”

*No shit Sherlock*, Jams responded inwardly. *What kind of idiot are you?* “Her seat
has a better view of the window,” he pointed the window directly across from him. “Or are you to
blind to notice, Johnson?”

He turned around in his chair and muttered a soft, “Oh.”

Lily turned to him the moment the class had slipped into relaxed conversation once more. “You
couldn’t be any nicer, Potter?”

“Not to Captain Obvious over there,” James replied, tipping back his chair and waving a hand at
William. “Bloody stupid bloke.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, compared to what? *Your* amazing intelligence?”

“Hey,” he snapped, “I made all NEWT classes, thank you very much!”

“You’re kidding.”

“Want to see the schedule?”

“Not if it’s been near you.”

“You’re near me.”

“And regretting it, trust me.”

“I’m hurt.”

“And I’m sure I find that incredibly disappointing.”

“I know you do.”

“Because I care so *terribly* much.”

“Aw, I *am* loved!”

“You wish!”

“I bloody well do.”

“Yeah, like you just *love* me.”

“I –“

“As amusing as you two are,” Sirius interrupted the conversation, “I have better things to do
than to listen to you arguing like my grandparents.”

A horrified look appeared on Lily’s face, and James smirked. “Really though,” Sirius continued,
“your sitting here is a bit weird. I mean, close proximity to each other normally results in both
of you in the Hospital Wing.

A faintly surprised look crossed Lily’s face as she glanced towards James, who shook his head.
*He didn’t tell his friends about last night? But, doesn’t he like get bragging rights for me
sleeping with my head in his lap and then eating with him? Why didn’t he tell?* Lily wondered
silently. “Potter and I…” She thought a moment, then excused herself with, “Potter and I have to be
able to work together to be Head Boy and Girl. And for charms. So… I’m putting up a… neutral
front.”

“Prongs,” Sirius practically shouted in a stage whisper, “I think that means she’s falling! Good
work!”

~*~

Sirius entered the library, gaze roving the room in search of a certain brunette Slytherin. She
was there, perched on a stool in the corner, bent over a rather ancient looking book. She appeared
to be taking notes, quill scrawling swiftly over a roll of worn parchment.

He strolled over to Crystal, calmly taking the seat beside her. She didn’t even bother to glance
up, absorbed by whatever she was working on.

“Hallo, Howling. How has your morning been?” Sirius asked cheerily, grinning.

“Sod off,” was Crystal’s blunt reply.

Sirius sighed, faking a look of depression and pressing a hand to his heat. “You wound me,
Howling. And yet, the mere sound of your voice soothes my soul.”

Crystal snorted, “Fine, now that you’re healed, leave.” Still not looking up, she pointed a
finger at the desk across the room. “I’m sure your flock of giggling girls misses you.”

“Yes, but I’d much rather spend time in your dazzling company, pet.”

“Go away, damn you,” she cursed, her tone vexated.

Sirius’s grin broadened, but he made no move to leave. Instead, he promptly unpacked a text book
and began to read, flipping idly through the pages. After a few minutes, Crystal glanced up,
glaring at him. He sat peacefully, enduring her fiery look for several more moments before turning
to face her and offering a polite smile.

“Can you please stop glaring? It’s ruining my concentration,” he lied, though he sounded sincere
enough.

Crystal, however, didn’t seem to buy this, as she smirked cruelly as if in amusement at his
pitiful attempt at earnestness. She packed up her book and work, then proceeded to move to a
different table. Sirius watched her go, then waited several seconds before doing the same. He felt
the glare as soon as he sat down, and ruefully came to the conclusion that Howling had a very
*powerful* glare.

“So…” He drawled, trying to disrupt the tension filled silence between the pair, “why are you
always so silent and broody anyway?”

“Talking to idiots annoys me,” she stated flatly.

He gave her a wide, charming smile. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re talking to me then,
aye?”

Her lips twitched. It was there, the tiniest hint of a smile, the hidden laughter that now
danced in the very depths of her chilly chocolate eyes. Sirius could have jumped for joy, just to
see that miniscule hint of emotion. But, for some reason, the notion that she was nearly displaying
emotion—other than frigid emptiness—because of *him* was simply elating.

However, she swiftly returned to her usual self. “Black, you *are* an idiot.”

He laughed; a smooth, rich sound that was rarely heard outside of his close circle of friends.
For being one of Hogwarts’s most famed pranksters, he was not one to laugh so easily. There simply
*was* no one out there who could hold the amount of sarcasm and easy bluntness that was
required to bring the sound from is vocals.

“Yes,” he replied, “but it’s much more fun that being a Ravenclaw always holed up in the
library.”

“Yes, because it’s *so* much better to be a Gryffindor who spends his time plotting pranks
and shagging sluts,” she responded dryly.

“Hey!” He cried, eyes flashing, “I do more than that!”

“Like what?”

“Like...” He paused, then grinned, “Like chatting with lovely Slytherins in the library.”

“Call me lovely again, and I’ll wipe that grin off your face,” she responded, her tone
disgusted

He leaned forward, till his face was only inches from hers, and read the surprise that she
fought to remove from her face. “How do you plan to go about it, lovely?”

She groped on her desk anxiously, grabbed her book, and slammed him in the head with it. Sirius
let out a yelp, leaping away from her and bringing a hand to his head. “Like that,” Crystal
replied, her tone businesslike.

“Damn it woman, are you trying to kill me?”

“I suppose that’s far too wonderful to hope for.”

“I was just *talking* to you! You didn’t have to hit me over the head with a ten pound
book!”

The look she sent him when her face raised to meet his was dangerous, pools flashing in anger
unmatched. “You were two inches from my face, Black. I don’t want you two meters from where I sit.
Understand?”

Oh, he understood alright. Sirius stared at her, head cocked slightly to one side. He understood
that this was a new challenge. Oh yes, Crystal Howling was going to become Sirius Black’s new
project.

He was going to make her fall in love with him.

~*~

James strolled through his hall, headed towards the great Hall for dinner. NEWT Transfiguration,
he had discovered today, was going to be pathetically easy. The spells were all ones that Sirius
and he had learned long ago, spells you had to master before becoming an anamagi. Besides, they
would be having almost no homework, except to practice because, McGonagall had declared, “NEWT
Transfiguration will be one of the most difficult classes you take.” That had made him laugh. At
this rate, NEWT Transfiguration was going to be his easiest class.

Sirius had left earlier for dinner, but James had wanted to fetch a few things from the Head
Common room. He would meet the others there. Ambling calmly as he was, the peace that had settled
upon was disrupted when a well kwon voice remarked coldly from behind him, “So, your girl finally
get what was coming to her?”

James spun, wand already in hand, to face Snape. “Shut up, Snivellus, I don’t have the time to
waste on you.”

Snape sneered, “Personally, I’m glad. The Meadows always were mud-rollers, consorting with
mudbloods constantly.”

James glared, his voice rising in anger. “Sod off! Don’t bloody insult Mrs. Meadows! Just
because you’re a damn Death Eater doesn’t mean I can’t hex you into yesterday!”

Snape cackled, a merciless, brutal sound. “You won’t do anything, Potter. That filthy mudblood
whore has you wrapped around her little finger, and she’d be upset.”

In an instant, Severus found himself slammed against the stone wall, his feet no longer touching
the ground. James’s expression was amazing powerful, a loathing and ferocity beyond anything Snape
had ever seen in his eyes. They were filled with passion, chock full of defensive… love.

“*Don’t you dare.*” Severus had never heard him sound so vehement, and it was shocking and
quite frightening. “I swear, Snape, another word about Evans and I will *kill* you. I
swear.”

Perhaps he was simply stupid, but Snape burst into malicious laughter. “Are you in *love*
with her Potter? Oh, I can’t believe it! You’re in *love* with the bitch.” James hands
suddenly tightened around his throat, but Severus continued to choke out words. “It… will be so…
*funny*… once… once he… gets rid of her…”

With the threat to Lily, James hands suddenly clenched tighter, and Severus pawed in vain at his
broad hands. “He *won’t* get to her. I would *never* let it happen. I--”

“James Potter, release him *now*!” Lily shouted, having just rounded he corner

James leaned closer to Snape, “*Ever*,” he whispered fiercely, before allowing Snape to
tumble to the ground. Without taking so much as a glance at Lily, James swept towards the Head
commons.

Lily watched him go, baffled. He’d been so *nice* yesterday, and today—he had almost killed
Snape! *The bastard! I can’t believe I actually thought he might be getting better! He was just…
just trying to seduce me or something! Bastard!*

She glanced down at Snape, but made no move to help him. Instead, she frowned at his position on
the floor, came to the conclusion that he would live, and hurried after James. She walked briskly
through the halls, tracing his path while contemplating just exactly how best to injure Potter.

Every thought but pure hatred left her mind as soon as she entered the common room. He was
standing on the far side of the room, leaning on a windowsill and staring out at the grounds. She
couldn’t see any of him but his cloaked back, and didn’t notice the exhaustion and pain etched on
every line of his face.

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have shouted. But she couldn’t, so Lily promptly cried, “What the
*hell* did you think you were doing?!”

“Don’t Evans,” his voice was tight with some restrained emotion, “just don’t.”

“I bloody well will! You were *killing* him Potter!”

“He deserved it,” James replied harshly. “The filth; he’s nothing but a heartless, cowardly
Snape. Just like his family.”

“If you think that, you’re no better than Snape himself,” Lily retorted.

“I’m *nothing* like him,” he shot, his voice dangerously passionate.

“You have this stereotype against the Snapes—all Slytherins—just like the one he has against
muggle-borns,” she explained

“But… But they’re *evil*.”

Lily sighed, “Not everyone is evil just because of where they live. There are plenty of rude and
Gryffindors, or cruel Ravenclaws.”

James ran a hand through his hair. “Snape deserves it. He said…” James trailed off, still
staring distantly out the window, though he went suddenly stiff, as if he had something he hadn’t
meant to.

Lily raised an eyebrow, giving him a queer look. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, forget it,” he said dismissively.

“No I want to know.”

“Lily—“

“I’m not a child, Potter,” she snapped.

James sighed, still not daring to look at her, not wanting to read whatever mixture of hatred
and disappointment that was currently on her face. It was becoming unbearable, her anger that was
beginning to seem terribly unfounded—or rather, created on only impressions and not truth. “He
called you a—a mudblood whore bitch.”

Lily crossed her arms, glaring at his back. “I’ve heard it before, Potter. I don’t need you to
defend my honor.”

James spun, and the look in his eyes shocked Lily. It was passionate, worried, protective, and
warm all at once. He swept towards her, stopping only inches away from where her glare was failing.
There was a frown on his face as he spoke, and his voice was broken by a lack of confidence. “He
threatened you. Lily, he threatened to *kill* you. And I can’t live without you Lily. I can’t
live without you.” There was a seemingly endless pause, as his gaze filled with pleading, an
emotion that echoed in his voice. “Please don’t make me live without you Lily.”



6. Five:  Choices
-----------------

Disclaimer: You all by now its JKRs.

Chapter Title: Five; Choices

Chapter Summary: An answer, quidditch, destiny, and Lily Potter.

~*~

*I've had my choices
I've chosen today
I've had my choices
The choices remain*

--Living is Simple, Switchfoot

~*~

He looked so lost, standing before with that desperate, longing look in his eyes. This was a
James she hadn't known existed. A James who was kind, and gentle, and wanted more than anything
to protect those he cared for. It came as a shock to Lily, this realization that maybe he
wasn't just being like this to annoy her with his infatuation, that maybe he was *sincere*
when he told her she looked pretty, or merely defending people when he performed his curses on
various enemies. Maybe, just maybe, James was *good*.

Giving him a small, wavering smile, Lily reached out a hand to grasp one of his. She wove her
fingers within his, causing him to glance down unbelievingly at where she now held his hand.
"Don't worry Potter," she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere soon."

His face rose, hazel eyes wide and incredulous. Then, he too smiled in response, a smile filled
with an emotion kin to hope. Giving her hand the smallest of squeezes, he replied gratefully,
"Good."

~*~

The rest of the week sped by. While Lily was not openly friendly to James, she was far from her
usual hostile self. On occasion, they traded greetings, or perhaps a flickering smile in the
hallway, but for the most part their interaction was private. Even then, there wasn't much to
be said. They discussed things such as classes and family, trading light jokes and amusing stories.
The pair did not dare move towards more complex topics, like death, threats, or emotions. However,
within a week James grew closer to Lily than he had ever been, and by that Saturday the two might
have been described as friends.

Saturday dawned with brilliant sunshine, streaming through the windows of the head dormitories
unwanted. Light flickered over James's eyelids, and at last, once it became simply too
aggravating, him drew himself from bed. Glancing at the clock, he noted with surprise that it was
well past eight. "Damn," James cursed, leaping from bed. Quidditch practice began at
nine, and there was no way he was going to be late to their first practice.

He hopped frantically through his room, tossing on his quidditch uniform and not even bothering
to comb his hair, it was useless anyway. Dashing into the common room, he was halfway to the door
before an exasperated voice spoke from behind him.

"Potter, aren't you forgetting something?" Lily asked.

He squinted, trying to make out her form, and swore mentally. "Glasses, yea, have you seen
them?"

"No," she replied, "I assume they're in your room."

James nodded and hurried into his room, before spending five minutes hunting for the damn pieces
of glass. At last, when he determined his hunt to be fruitless, James poked his head into the
common. "Hey Lily, er, would you mind lending a hand? I can't," he motioned to eyes,
"see them. Since I don't have them."

Lily chuckled and stood, strolling leisurely to his room. "Why don't you just put them
somewhere every night, so you don't have to worry about this?" Lily scolded gently,
admitting privately that it was too humorous to see him dashing blindly here and there.

James scowled, "I'm not that bloody organized. It's stupid anyway, you need the
glasses to see but you have to be able to see to find the glasses. Whose idea were they
anyway?"

Lily brushed past him to enter his room. "I think most people *can* find them."
She glanced around at his pigsty of a room, shaking her head. "In *here* though, anybody
would be lost."

"Just help, please? The team will kill me if I'm late, and I'll have to endure
Sirius's mocking little lectures for a week."

She sighed, and glanced around, making her way slowly through the piles of parchment and
laundry. It was like wading through knee-deep mud, and she tossed things higgledy-piggledy in her
search. After less than two minutes, she drew something from the top of his dresser. "Potter,
you really are an idiot. They're in your *glasses case*."

James blushed as she tossed him the glasses, and stuck them stubbornly on his nose. "Well,
it's not as if I expect them to be where they're *supposed* to be. That's too
confusing!"

Lily laughed, and he grinned cheerily at her before dashing at an amazing speed from the room.
She, however, made no move to leave. Instead, she frowned disapprovingly at the mess at her feet,
and then brandished her wand. Pointing to a large pile of robes, she muttered a quick charm, and
they were suddenly directed to the laundry basket in the corner of the room. Pointing again,
various other items in the mass of destruction began to find their way to wherever they
belonged.

While Evans was beginning to straighten his room, James was dashing madly onto the pitch.
Arriving at last, he halted on the field, bending over as he wheezed out breaths.
"Prongs," Sirius called as he strode toward James, "you were almost late!"

James sighed, "It's a bloody longer run from the head rooms. And that was after the
twenty minute hunt for my glasses."

Sirius laughed. "How *did* you find them, mate? Normally you have Peter searching
everywhere for you."

"Lily found them."

"Lily, is it?" An elegant eyebrow rose. "What are you two, married? She's
finding your glasses now? Was she there when you lost them?"

James glared at his best friend, but Sirius merely smirked. "No, Padfoot, she wasn't.
You're twisted."

"Nope, I'm Sirius, seriously!"

James sighed and rolled his eyes at the ancient and rotting comment, but who could expect less
from Sirius? Sirius beamed back, and then called to the assembled team, "C'mon everyone!
Up in the air!"

James hurried to the lockers, grabbing his broom and leaping onto it before even reaching the
field. As soon as the open air his him, he was soaring towards the shimmering sky.

James had always loved flying. It was like nothing else. Once on a broomstick, he left all of
his troubles on the ground. Gone was the threat of Voldemort, past was the difficulty of NEWT
classes. When he was flying, life was perfect.

"Prongs, the snitch is out!" He heard Sirius call from below. For a moment, James
ignored his friends, twisting in a lazy loop. He didn't want to come back to the game just yet.
For another moment, he wanted to be free.

That thought was blasted out of his mind when Sirius sent a bludger hurdling towards him. James
dropped instantly, even though his brain hadn't fully caught the action. Reflexes were all a
part of quidditch, and James had reflexes in a store several times more enormous than most.

The bludger had broken his reverie, and James's hazel eyes now sought the snitch. Diving
lower, he writhed in serpentine motion around the goal posts. Around him, he could hear Sirius
shouting plays, but James ignored the sound. The seeker was a solitary player. Seeking was not
something that could be taught in a series of practices, or learned in a few dozen plays. It was an
art, a born talent that few possessed.

It had always been James's art, since long before he arrived at Hogwarts. However, James had
played Chaser on the team as a second and third year, as the position of seeker had already been
filled. Then, in fourth year, growing tired of an endless match against Slytherin, he had stolen
the snitch from where it hovered inches beyond the Slytherin seeker's fingertips, and had
passed it to the Gryffindor seeker. The captain, asking loudly why James had never mentioned he
could play seeker before, had switched his roles with the seeker. It had turned out better for both
of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, James noted the tiniest flicker of gold. A moment later, he was
speeding at a frantic pace towards it, hovered low over his trusty broom. It may not have been the
most new and prominent broom at that time, but it had weathered storms and snows, frustrations and
exhaustion, and it had never failed James. To him, the battered broom was just an old, dear
friend.

A split second later, he was reaching for the snitch, realizing only then that Sirius had just
slammed a bludger in his direction. Cursing his friend's belief that challenges would make him
better, he swung upside down and his broom and let the bludger hurtle past the exact spot his
stomach might have been. Still upside down, he removed a hand from he handle, and stretched to
clasp the small ball in his fingers.

Almost immediately following, he flew smack dab into a chaser, and tumbled twenty feet to the
ground.

He hit the pitch with a loud grunt of pain, snitch still clutched in his palm. Mentally
reviewing his health, he determined that nothing was broken, but his back was going to be very,
very sore tomorrow.

Sirius's head popped jovially into his view, and Padfoot grinned down at him. "Good
work, mate."

"Bloody hell, Padfoot," James groaned. "That *hurt*."

"Good for your character," Sirius replied. "Now, c'mon, let's see if you
can't catch it faster!"

~*~

Lily Evans quickly discovered that James's bedroom was very. layered. Pile after pile of
junk was thrown everywhere, and, getting frustrated, she finally flopped unceremoniously onto the
floor. She landed on a notebook, which she dragged out from beneath her, and flipped idly through
the pages.

They were charms notes and, judging by the tattered quality of the pages, getting quite old.
Opening to a page towards the end, she scanned quickly over his sloppy handwriting. It was a tiny
scrawl, but somehow legible all the same. However, it was all shorthanded to the point that it was
practically code. Sighing, she ruffled through a few more pages, and halted when a small image
caught her eye.

Drawn on the page was a snitch, perfect in every detail, down to the feather wings. Scrawled
elegantly in the middle, complete with flourish, were the letters L.E. Lily blushed, scanning over
the rest of the page. This one had clearly begun as notes, but a third of the way down the page
became something quite different.

*Evans hates me. I know she does. And she thinks I'm terrible for making her angry. But
it's fun! And she looks so pretty when she's angry! Her eyes light up, and they glow and.
She's so pretty. I told her that yesterday, and she told me to 'Sod off'. Bloody girls
and their mind games!*

Flipping to the next page, she found a handful of new notes, accompanied by a handful of
comments about her.

*I think Evans's hair is made of fire. Like her eyes. If glares could do magic, I'd
have been through ten 'incendio's by now. But really, her hair is so red! The other day
she-*

"What are you doing?"

Lily glanced up at the sound of James's voice. He was standing in his doorway, lightly
coated in dirt and sweat. Leaning on the doorframe, he inspected her with suspicion.

"I-I was straightening up your room," she stammered, waving at the piles around the
area.

James glanced around, then turned his gaze back on her. "You cleaned my room?"

"Well, I started, but it's worse than I thought."

There was a pause, and then he strode to lower himself on the bed about a foot away from her.
Leaning over, he plucked the book lightly from her fingers. Glancing over the page, Lily found that
she couldn't read his expression, and it worried her. She had been prying, and if he accused
her of it.

James laughed softly, "Fifth year. Merlin, you hated me back then."

"You were a prat," she replied stubbornly.

"Yea, I suppose I was. We all were though, didn't have anything to worry about. Now
it's all on us, because we're the future." He sighed, tossed the book carelessly on
his desk, and stood slowly.

As he hobbled towards his bathroom door, Lily noticed that his walk was shuffling and awkward.
"Are you okay?"

He turned around and grinned sheepishly at her. "I fell off my broom."

Lily winced. "Flying is risky Potter. You should be more careful."

"What, worried for my safety?" James teased.

Lily met his hazel eyes, "Yes."

~*~

Lily made a decision when she entered the library that day. Huddled in her hidden corner was
Crystal Howling, exactly where she always sat. Taking a deep breath, Lily strode towards the small
table. She set her books gently on the table, before taking the seat across from Crystal.

Howling glanced up, narrowing her eyes. *What, two Gryffindors in one week? Is it drive*
*Crystal* *crazy month?*

Lily met the glare calmly, before speaking softly. "Hello."

"Go away," Crystal replied grumpily, diving back into her book.

Lily sat silently for several long minutes, then whispered into the quiet, "Mrs. Meadows
died."

Crystal's head jerked up before she stop it's movement, and the word was out of her
mouth before she could stop it. "What?"

"In the attack," Lily said slowly. "She died in the attack before school started.
Dumbledore told me."

Howling blinked. "But. I met Mrs. Meadows. She was so friendly."

"I know," she whispered, blinking back tears. "I. I owled Dorcas. I hope
she's alright."

"Me too."

Lily gaped at Crystal, having not expected this reaction. A sneer perhaps, or a cold look, but.
maybe there *was* something of the old Crystal, hidden somewhere within this emotionless
girl.

"You do?" Lily asked softly.

Crystal paused for a long moment, considering. "Yea." She drawled slowly, "I
guess I do."

~*~

Sunday found Crystal back in the library, once more skimming lightly through her book. She was
quite unsurprised when a rustle of movement informed her that her table had a visitor. They had
been quite frequent lately. She idly finished her page, before raising her eyes to meet brilliant
blue ones.

"Morning Crystal," Sirius greeted her with a grin.

"On a first name basis, are we now?" She asked, disinterested.

"I'm on a first name basis with every lovel-I mean, every beautiful girl in the
school."

"Yea," Crystal drawled, "because you've shagged them all."

He smiled charmingly at her. "Clearly not the Queen of Beauty, though."

Crystal sighed in aggravation, returning to her book. A minute later, he was pestering her with
questions and sappy comments again, but she took no notice. Instead, her eyes traveled over the
page, though her brain did not fully process the information.

After so long, even Sirius gave up, and stood to move from the table. He was pushing in his
chair when a soft, sorrow leaden voice stopped him. "Do you ever think about it?"

He turned around, to where Crystal's eyes still stared at the page, but her words were
clearly directed at him. "Think about what?" Sirius questioned, leaning on the table on
his elbows.

"Life. Why we're here, and what we're supposed to do with it. How things affect us,
how the tiniest word can change our entire destiny. Do you ever think about it?" Her words
were so soft that he had to crane forward to hear her, but their meaning hit him with sudden
importance.

Slowly, Sirius slid back into the seat, frowning in concentration. "We control our own
destinies. No one can change our choices, they make who we are. We're here to make them, to
fulfill our choices, which created out fate. Life is ours, ours to live and ours to
control."

"But it isn't," Crystal insisted. "It's not ours. Our life is. It's
everyone's. If we die, then our death is part of the life of others. If we live, then how we
live affects those around us. Things we create, things like authority, they push us towards where
we go. How do we know that, without that authority, we wouldn't have turned out
different?"

"You don't have to obey authority. Just because it says something doesn't mean you
have to follow. If we did, then how would we live in our world today? If everyone listened to
Voldemort just because he's powerful, then how would we live?" Sirius's tone was soft,
and yet brimming with feeling.

"But you have to obey the rules. It's. it's the rules."

"Damn the rules. If I followed the rules, I'd be a Slytherin Death Eater still living
with my demonic mother. I got put in Gryffindor, and I thought it was the worst thing in the world.
I was going to follow the Black Family Law, and hate Gryffindors to eternity. But I couldn't.
The moment I met James, we were brothers. It didn't matter that our families had loathed each
other for generations. Something in us didn't accept it. It's why I prank, why I turn the
world upside down. To me, the rules are just words. Maybe someone, five hundred years ago, said
they shouldn't be broken. But I'll break them anyway. For freedom. For life."

Crystal stared at him for an eternal moment, gazing straight into those sincere, sapphire pools.
They flickered with a passion she didn't know he possessed, glinted with a conviction that was
entirely heartfelt. For a moment, a mere heartbeat, she felt something. Something beyond anger, and
ice, and wild bitterness. It was something deep, and ancient, and everlasting. It was something she
*liked*.

A smile couldn't grace her features then. It was too complex a subject. But when she looked
at him, Crystal inwardly came to a conclusion, and he read it on her face. *I'm a Slytherin.
But I don't have to be evil and empty. I can **live*****.** *For life.*

~*~

Remus lay on his bed that night, staring at the moon. It was still half-grown tonight, but it
would be full next Saturday. Next Saturday, he would be a monster again.

And yet, it didn't bother him.

At most times, he loathed being a werewolf. He could spend days cursing lycanthropy, blaming it
for the awful transformation that he was forced to endure so frequently.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he felt. connected. It came, ever so often. This feeling of understanding, of focus. It
made him realize that maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. That he was a part of something. That
it created something.

It created a bond.

They had been close, James, Sirius, Peter and he. Then they had discovered he was a werewolf.
They'd accepted him anyway.

It made them stronger.

Most friends were close through talking, and sports, and studies. They could smile and laugh and
argue. But the Marauders were different.

Because of the werewolf.

Nobody else would ever understand it, but the werewolf made them better. They saw him at the
absolute worst point in his life, and they joined him.

They were inseparable.

His friends had become anamagi for him. It meant that, even at the lowest point, they were there
for each other. Not even a monster, a howling ferocious beast, could tear apart their
friendship.

Who else could say that?

Nobody faced difficulties like this. Those that did failed. But his friends, they defeated it.
They worked through the problem, and they solved it. Maybe he wasn't cured.

But he was happy.

And wasn't that what mattered? He may have turned into a werewolf once a month, but he
didn't mind. Not if it meant that he had friends who were his blood. He didn't need
anything more than that.

They were the Marauders.

Nothing could change that.

~*~

Lily was lounged on the sofa, her Defense Against the Dark Arts book propped in front of her,
while her chin rested on her folded arms. She sighed, flipping tiredly to the next page while
letting out a huge yawn. "Potter-" She began sleepily.

"It's James," he interrupted her.

"What?" Lily asked, her exhausted brain hardly functioning.

James glanced up from his own book, a volume on Grindewald, and glanced over to where she was
still staring sleepily at her book. "James. My name is James," he repeated, shifting on
the armchair.

Lily paused, then nodded. "Alright, so-"

"Say it," James broke in once more.

"Say what?" She questioned innocently, turning her head to flutter long eyelashes at
him.

"James. Say it," he commanded with a small smile.

Smirking herself, she teased, "Why should I?"

He stared at her for a long pause, before a wicked grin spread over his face. Lily's smile
faded, for he looked entirely mischievous, hazel eyes twinkling. "Because otherwise," and
in an instant, he was out of his chair, book aside. A split second later, his hands were drifting
over her, tickling her mercilessly.

She squealed, pulling away from him and attempting to run to the opposite side of the room.
However, his arms quickly engulfed her as he continued his cheerful tickling.

"Stop!" Lily cried between giggles.

"Say it," he insisted, avoiding her light slaps.

She laughed harder, writhing as the giggles erupted from her. "Stop!" She shrieked
again, knowing it was useless.

His grin, behind her, broadened. "Only when you say it," he whispered, head now bent
so his breath whispered over her neck, causing her to laugh harder and the gentle sensation.

She hardly had the breath for words, and though she protested several more times, he simply
ignored her. At last, being able to stand it no longer, Lily gasped, "Stop James!"

He laughed gently at her, relinquishing her from his grip. She stepped dizzily, then went to the
sofa, quite out of breath. Smiling, he sunk into the cushion beside her. "Now," he said
cheerily, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

She smiled, and then turned her eyes towards him, though not her face. Smiling, she whispered
under her breath, "Potter."

"Lily," he whined, drawing out the vowels as he spoke.

"Potter," she repeated swiftly.

"Lily," he tried again.

Just as he was finishing the "y" she cut in, "Potter."

He paused, tilted his head, and then smirked. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Lily
Potter."



7. Six:  Past and Future
------------------------

Disclaimer: I don’t own it. Shocker, aye? That’s what I thought.

Chapter Title: Six; Past and Future

Chapter Summary: A few pointless actions, talks of the future, the transformation of Remus, and
a Hogsmeade trip—or not.

~*~

*And it all seems so helpless
And I have no plans
I'm a plane in the sunset
With nowhere to land
And all I see
It could never make me happy
And all my sand castles
Spend their time collapsing*

--Let that Be Enough, Switchfoot

~*~

Patrols began that Monday, with Lily and James taking the latest shift together every night, the
eleven o’clock to twelve o’clock shift. The other shifts were spread amongst the prefects, and
there was always two pairs patrolling, each from different houses. Monday classes passed
uneventfully, and that night Lily and James could be found in their common room once more.

Lily was growling over a particularly difficult translation of NEWT Ancient Runes, the one class
she did not share with James. He glanced up from his position on the floor, a rather large
collection of books on feral potions strewn around him. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

Lily glanced up, smiling exhaustedly at him. “No, I’m just sick of this. One week into the year,
and the classes are already impossible. There’s no way I’m going to survive all these NEWT classes,
much less the actual tests.”

He stood, stretching languidly. “It’s about time for us to stop anyway. Patrol starts in ten
minutes.”

“Yeah,” Lily, giving a last glare to the tricky rune, also stood. “I shouldn’t have taken
Ancient Runes this year,” she commented as the pair swept out of the common room.

“Why not?” James asked, giving her a curious glance.

“Well, it’s not really going to help me later in life. It’ll just be useless knowledge.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing then, once you get out of Hogwarts?”

“Well, I want to be an auror. But it’s almost impossible for a girl to get a position, so I’ll
probably go into some form of basic law enforcement. Or do something with politics; I certainly
wouldn’t mind being Mistress of Magic one day. Just to prove a muggle-born can.”

He grinned crookedly at her. “You’ve got some big dreams, Lily.”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re not *that* big. Besides, I just want to do something
important. I want to be remembered.” She sighed, twirling a lock of hair, “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No,” was James’s soft reply.

Lily glanced at him, startled. “What do you want to do then?”

“I want to just make it *out* of Hogwarts,” he replied softly. “Then I want to help people.
People who are emotionally corrupt, y’know? Like the people who have been through torture, or just
who have suffered so much that they can’t hold on anymore.” His voice fell softer, and she saw what
looked like pain in his eyes, “I want a *family*.”

For a moment, Lily halted completely. Here was James Potter, Marauder Extraordinaire, Hero of
the Qudditch Team, declaring that he that all he wanted to do was *help* people. That he
wanted a *family*. It was… strange, to think of him as someone so… *sensitive*. “Those
are big dreams too, Potter,” she whispered in reply.

He laughed coolly, as if helpless. “Believe me Lily, I know. Somehow, I doubt I’ll get to any of
them.”

“James,” she scolded softly, “don’t be so pessimistic. For one, you’re sure to get out of
Hogwarts! Nothing is going to kill you while you’re here!”

He smiled sadly, “Maybe.”

“And,” Lily continued in defiance to his sorrow, “I’m sure you’ll be able to help. You… you’re
destined for greatness, Potter.”

“But am I destined for happiness?” James asked softly, so softly that she decided to ignore his
words.

“And a family… one day a girl will come along, and you’ll fall in love with her, and you won’t
have a doubt about that one. It just takes time.”

He opened his mouth, prepared to tell her that he *was* in love with a girl, and that that
only made his case seem all the more hopeless. Instead, he stood silently for several endless
seconds, and then turned and began to march down the hall. There was the softest whisper of words,
and Lily wasn’t sure if they were real or imagined, “I’m waiting.” Then James looked over and
offered her a simple shrug. “C’mon, Evans,” he commanded. “We’re patrolling, remember?”

Lily stared after him, a small scowl on her face. *Why does he have to be so sad anyway? He’s
got everything any guy wants—except a girlfriend. But he could have practically any girl, so that’s
his own choice.* *What is he waiting for? **Who** is he waiting for?* Her thoughts
paused, and down the hall, James turned and beckoned to her.

*Is he waiting for me?*

~*~

Saturday found Remus ambling slowly towards the Whomping Willow. The school nurse tutted beside
him, her lips pursed in a thin line. She had been like this since his first day, and Remus knew
very well that Madame Bumble thought he was a hazard to the school.

Sighing, Remus stood by as she poked at the knot in the trunk of the tree, and he gazed
forlornly up into its branches. He could remember being here the first time, when he was not but
eleven. Then, the leaves had seemed so far above him, the Willow a protective guard around the
monster inside.

Now, they felt like the bars of a jail cell.

Remus was thankful for the gift Dumbledore had given him when he had taken him into the school,
but still, it was difficult. He *was* a hazard, a danger to his peers and to the villagers. If
not for his friends, then he probably would have harmed *someone* by now.

He followed Madame Bumble as she entered the tunnel, her large girth completely blocking his
view. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the tunnel by heart anyway. Remus ran his fingers lightly
against the dirt wall, half smiling as he followed the nurse, his back hunched to avoid the low
ceiling. This, too, had once felt like something good. It had been the way to his comfort.

Now it was the bridge between humanity and a monster, a segregation of him and the world.

At last, they reached the trapdoor, and Remus climbed out behind Bumble. He threw himself down
on a rather battered, crumbling sofa, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. He could feel
Madame Bumble’s disapproving glare upon him, but that was normal by now. She left shortly after,
and he was left to pass the next hour until the moon rose.

Remus studied the ceiling, watching as the last tiny droplets of sunlight played over the dusty
white overhead. The flickering lights enacted a small dance as he watched, and he sat in peaceful
silence as they swept through their choreographed movement. He could remember longing for those
droplets never to leave, because they were his last clutch on humanity. Now, their disappearance
was expectant, and he sat tranquilly as the final specks faded, leaving him to his doom.

To his destiny.

Darkness settled like a forbidding cloak over the shack, and Remus stood slowly. He walked
towards the window, a hole that had never been intended. It was a chunk of wall, ripped out in his
third year when he had been in a particularly bad mood after a fight with James and Sirius. Now he
leaned on the thick wood, gazing over the hill that rolled down into a thick forest. It was a
lesser branch of the Forbidden Forest, and the first place they had explored as vibrant
teenagers.

Now, the moon began a sluggish creep over the colossal gathering of timber, silver lights
replacing those of the golden sun. A pale platinum washed over him, and he sighed reluctantly.
Before, this bath of moonlight had frightened him.

Now, it was a window to a new world.

Finally, the last rays swept over his still form, and Remus let his eyelids fall. He knew what
would come. The pain of a transformation, the agony and viciousness of the first long minutes
before the Marauders could arrive. Then, things always became a little clearer; memories of runs,
of howling with Padfoot, of racing with Prongs. He could remember the moon, and the stars, and the
endless stretch of ruckus that he and his anamagi friends had plowed.

Now, he stood still. He let it come, like the whisper of wind upon a window. He knew what was to
happen, and though he couldn’t understand it, he was ready. Those first years had been the hardest,
when it had made no sense, when the fear of becoming something he was not overwhelmed him.

But it *was* a part of him, it *was* who he was.

Needles lanced through his being, and Remus dropped to his knees. He could feel it burning, fire
lacing through every inch of his skin. His form changed, and spread. Claws shot from his knuckles
painfully, and his body ached as it was pulled into the awkward form of a changing werewolf. He bit
down on his lip, the pain increasing there little by little as flat teeth turned to angled ones.
But he knelt still, enduring, as he so often did.

It was agony, and it was endless. It was vicious, and so was he. It was terrible, and it was
worse than any pain man could endure. Long ago, when it had first begun, he had loathed the angry,
ferocious beast that he had become. It drove him to a hatred of the emotions he felt when alone
with himself.

One thing had not changed over the years.

~*~

The weekend following was to be the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. James, Lily, and
Dumbledore had been in agreement that the students needed something to cheer them up. The weight of
schoolwork, added to the tragedy of the summer, had made the first two weeks of school nearly
unbearable. Any more than a third, and the struggle would be impossible.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all found themselves strewn in the head common room that
Wednesday. Lily had, reluctantly, agreed to let James bring up his minions, on the condition that
he help her with a tricky bit of Transfiguration they had been working on lately. He had happily
obliged.

She was seriously regretting her decision.

Even from her room, the boy’s were noisy. It appeared that they were planning some atrocious
prank on the Hufflepuff Qudditch Team, who they would be playing the weekend before Halloween.
Apparently, they wanted it to be so grand that they needed to plan a month in advance.

Lily sighed, banging her head on the surface of her desk. She had thought, that with Lupin
around, they might have been *reasonably* quiet. But it appeared that Remus was also in high
spirits, as his voice was just a loud and boisterous as the rest.

Finally giving up on her battle with the most recent Potions assignment, she stalked into the
common room. None of the four took any notice of her, and she glared at their scrambled positions.
Sirius had thrown himself onto the sofa, his feet propped on the armrest and his arms folded behind
his head. Remus sat on the floor, legs outstretched, leaning against the sofa. Peter was sitting
cross-legged on the normally unused armchair, and James lounged in his favorite seat.

“James Potter,” she snapped, “what the bloody hell are you doing that requires so much
noise?”

He grinned sheepishly at her from his position across the room, and the other boy’s fell silent,
seemingly expectant of another Lily Evans blowup. “C’mon, Lily,” he pleaded, “we’re just having a
bit of fun. Cut us some slack, will you?”

She glared, “I’m trying to *work*, Potter.”

“You work too much,” he shot back, standing and ambling over to her. “Come, join the fun.” He
took her arm, pulling her gently back towards his armchair. When Lily remained immobile, he sighed
and cast a hand through his hair. “Please Lily? I promise not to—“ he paused, trying to think if
something fitting, and grinned lightly at her, “—I promise I’ll leave my glasses where they go. You
won’t have to hunt for them again.”

Lily’s lips twitched, as finding James’s glasses for him had become a part of her morning
routine. He grinned in return to her hesitant smile, dragging her over to his armchair, which he
promptly fell into. Immediately following, Lily found herself pulled onto his lap.

“You have some nerve, James,” she muttered darkly.

His eyes were mischievous, “You know you love me for it.”

Lily sighed and glared, but didn’t move. His arm was draped casually around her waist, but she
had no doubt that it would tighten, should she attempt to leave. Instead, Lily sat stiffly, while
the other boys stared at the pair for a few moments before resuming their conversation.

Eventually, the conversation, of which Lily was not a participant, turned from pranks to the
Hogsmeade trip that weekend.

“Who are you taking this week, Padfoot?” Peter asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

“Crystal Howling,” came as Sirius’s smooth reply.

Lily laughed. It wasn’t a quiet giggle either, but a downright, boisterous, amused laugh. When
the four stared at her, she waved a careless hand, slowing her breathing to a point where she could
speak. “Like she’d go out with *you*, Sirius. She won’t go out with anyone, much less
*you*.” She giggled, “It could be funny to watch though.”

Sirius glared at her. “James, get your girl to shut up,” he commented dryly.

At once, Lily’s eyes hard narrowed and her hand flew automatically to her wand. “I am not—“
James caught her wrist before it could reach her pocket, and she spun to glare at him. “Let me
go!”

“He’s just having a bit of fun Lily. Let it go,” James spoke quietly, not loud enough for the
watching trio to hear.

“I’m not your girl!” Lily cried fiercely, though her voice was just as soft.

Something flickered in his hazel eyes, something similar to what she’d see during their first
patrol; that gentle, partly hidden pain of longing. “I know,” he replied. “I know. But he’s just
being a prat because you told him he couldn’t get his girl. It’s that automatic reaction, to shoot
insults in reply. Just let it go Lily, it’s not a big deal.”

She sighed, and muttered a few dark curses, but slowly her hand fell back to her lap and she
turned to face the rest of the room. Sirius immediately spoke, giving them a wink. “Going to
Hogsmeade together, are you?”

“No,” Lily said. “I’m not going to Hogsmeade.”

“Why not?” Remus asked, speaking up for the first time since she’d entered the conversation.

“I have some… some things. Things that I need to deal with soon, before they… get out of
hand.”

Remus raised a curious eyebrow, but James silenced him with a shake of his head behind Lily’s
back. Sirius soon disrupted the slightly awkward pause with a detailed description of just how he
planned to get Crystal to attend Hogsmeade with him, accompanied by a few snickers from Lily.

Around midnight, the others finally left, taking James’s invisibility cloak in order to ensure a
safe trip. James waved as they left, then carefully shifted. Lily had, about an hour ago, draped
her head on his shoulder, where it continued to rest. Running a hand tenderly through her hair,
James whispered, “Lily?”

There was no reply, and James smiled softly as she slept. He stood with extreme caution, lifting
her gently in his arms. A few minutes later they had entered her room, where he placed her
carefully on the bed. Slowly, so as not to wake her, he removed her shoes, before wrapping her
comfortably in the blankets. He brushed her hair softly away from her peaceful face, a tiny smile
adorning his features as he watched her. Leaning down, James swept his lips over her cheek, before
murmuring, “Goodnight, love.”

~*~

Sirius stalked cat-like along the carriages, continuously popping his head inside of the doors.
He was searching for a certain Crystal Howling; who he was absolutely positive would come. After
all, she would need to replace all of those potions ingredients that he, er, didn’t conveniently
steal.

At last, he approached one of the final carriages, cheerfully swinging the door open. Crystal
looked up from a list she had been reviewing, and sighed. “Why am I not surprised?” She glanced
hopelessly towards the ceiling, before glaring as he swung up into the carriage.

“Go away and snog somewhere else, Black,” she shot coldly.

He sighed, azure gaze sorrowful. “But Howling, I can’t snog if my girl is in a separate
compartment.”

It took a second for her to register his comment, before her eyes narrowed dangerously. “No.
Out. *Now*.”

He sighed, drawing the door shut. “Sorry, but you’re stuck with me. This was your idea anyway,”
he remarked flippantly.

“My idea?”

“Of course,” Sirius grinned. “You’re the one who told me I should help you find all those
ingredients.”

“But—I didn’t—oh—grr!” She cried angrily, seconds before the carriage jolted into movement.

Sirius sat silently for the rest of the ride, watching her beneath half-lidded eyes. She was
marking notes in the margins of her battered text, occasionally mouthing the words to a particular
section. His eyes watched her lips as they formed each syllable, and their gaze was hungry.

When they finally reached Hogsmeade, Sirius decided to, for the moment, keep the act of a
gentlemen. He leapt lightly from the carriage, offering her a hand, which Crystal refused. She
stalked out onto the street, leaving him to trail behind her, while she scowled at his
presence.

Offering a hopeful grin, Sirius asked, “Where to first?”

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Crystal sighed when he merely shook his head, and resigned
herself to spending the day with Mr. Charming Grin himself.

Stuffing her list into her pocket, she set off at a quick pace towards Hogsmeade’s apothecary,
annoyed to find that his easy lope moved just as quickly as her swift march. He had his hands
tucked into the pockets of his muggle jeans, sapphire orbs cast towards the sky. Crystal studied
him as they walked, her eyes sweeping over the casually elegant stance, the easy grin, the light
that sparked in his eyes. He was gorgeous, really.

It took all of her willpower not to stop dead in her tracks. *I did not just think that. I did
not just think that. Sirius Black **is not** in any way good-looking. He’s a Gryffindor. A
playing Gryffindor. A playing Gryffindor who has the most beautiful eyes… Argh!*

She swept into the apothecary, tossing all thoughts of Black from her mind. Dozens of odd
ingredients and mixtures crowded the room, releasing strange aromas and causing an almost freakish
haze to sift over the shop. Crystal turned to face Sirius, finding him watching her with an almost
lustful expression. She shuddered, though whether in disgust or delight she wasn’t sure, and
promptly handed him one half of the list.

“If you wanted to come so badly, you can work. Find those,” she pointed to his list. “Buy them,
and meet me back here.”

“Er,” he cast a wary glance over the list. “How much is this all going to cost? My…
*parents*… aren’t big on the ‘support system’ of money.”

She sighed, shoving her hair bitterly behind one ear. “I know for a fact that the Black’s are
rich. Goodness knows your brother proclaims it enough to make the whole world sick.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, shifting his feet almost uncomfortably, as if he were nervous. Of course, the
very idea was laughable. *Sirius Black, nervous? Never.* “Well, see, I… I don’t exactly talk
to them anymore. My brother and my family, that is.”

Crystal blinked slowly trying to sort through a sudden bit of information. “What do you
mean?”

“I ran away from home.” He responded bluntly, though his gaze remained downcast. “This summer, I
ran away. I lived with James for the summer.”

“But… Why? They’re prominent, and they’re powerful, and they’re rich, and… and they’re
pure-blood.”

Sirius looked up, to meet a pair of bewildered chocolate eyes. He remembered, with abrupt
surprise, that Crystal was muggle-born. As a muggle-born in Slytherin… It must have been difficult,
to say the least. “Crystal,” Sirius spoke slowly, as if actually thinking before he spoke. “It’s
not that easy. My family, well, you’ve seen Regulus. They’re all that bad; a load of selfish,
egotistical, lying, judgmental *bastards*. I couldn’t handle it any more. Not when they were
enemies of my friends. Not when they hated Moony, or cursed Evans, or wanted to cast out every
muggle-born in the school. Not when they were *evil*. I couldn’t stand it any more.” He
paused, then spat, “I *hate* them.”

Slowly, and with hesitancy, Crystal reached to lay a gentle hand on his arm, meeting his gaze
with compassion. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, and he could read the sincerity in her eyes.

Smiling softly, he reached up one hand to clasp over hers, smiling a heart-warming, but rare
smile at her. “Thank you.”

~*~

Lily had settled herself beneath the large tree beside the lake, her back resting easily against
it as her legs stretched before her. Closing her eyes, she began to hum a soft, sad song, as the
wind playfully tossed her curtain of fire locks here and there. She was surprised when a presence
could be felt settling beside her, ad Lily opened her eyes to identify the stranger.

James gave her a light, lop-sided grin that she returned hesitantly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lily responded.

“How are you holding up?” He asked, tone as gentle as the sweet look in his eyes.

“Alright, I suppose.” She sighed, turning her eyes to face the lake. Beside her, James remained
a solid, comforting figure, silent but radiating warmth of both the physical and emotional
kind.

For a long time, Lily simply sat there in relaxed quiet, gazing upon the lake. Her eyes traced
the path of the sunlight as it sprinkled over the water and the ripples caused by movement beneath
the surface. Outwardly, the lake was as calm as a lizard in the sun, inwardly it was a beehive of
activity.

Lily felt as if she could relate.

“James,” Lily whispered, her delicate voice cracking their hushed moments.

“Hmm?” He replied, both still watching the lake.

“What’s wrong with me?”

James turned to face her, eyebrows knit in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, letting her eyelids fall over the emerald that now glistened slightly with unshed
tears. “What did I do wrong?” She asked helplessly, her voice trembling. “Everything was fine, and
I was happy. Now I just feel like… I feel like my world, everything I know, is crumbling into a
million pieces. I feel like my life has… shattered.”

He paused, and Lily felt the weight of his arm settle around her shoulders like a barrier to the
harshness of the world, protecting her while in its grasp. “I don’t know Lily,” he whispered. “I
don’t know why everything is going wrong. But… it’ll get better. I promise, it’ll get better.”

She sighed and continued, her thoughts hazy and broken. “I just—I stopped seeing the point. Or
maybe it’s that I finally did see it, but it isn’t worth it. I just… I don’t understand. I don’t
know why I’m here, or what I’m supposed to do. I feel so insignificant… so *useless*.”

The arm tightened around her, though not to a point of discomfort. “You’re *not*
useless.”

“But I am!” Lily argued angrily back. “I know, if I died now, people would miss me. But… what if
I had just never been born? What if I had never lived? It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“It would have mattered to me,” James returned with conviction.

“How? C’mon James, what would really be different in your life? You’d have a girlfriend,
probably—someone you could be happy with. You’d be happier, better off, if I weren’t here. Just
admit it James.”

Lily stood irately, only to find James dragging her back down, gripping her in both friendly
arms and the powerful gaze of his brilliant hazel eyes.

“No, I wouldn’t. If you weren’t here…” James shivered, and a flash of fear sped through those
hypnotic features. “I don’t even want to imagine that. If you weren’t here… How would I live
without seeing your smile?” He released one arm, using that hand to brush gently over her frowning
lips. “Or seeing your beautiful eyes, so filled with passion?” The same hand drifted lazily across
now closed eyelids that re-awoke when he continued speaking. “How would I have gone without hearing
you bellow my name, or hex me into oblivion? Without you, Lily, I’d still be an insensitive prat,
waltzing around the school. Without you, I wouldn’t…” He paused, inhaling deeply. “I don’t know if
it matters. . . I don’t know if it means anything to you. . . But without you, Lily Evans, I
wouldn’t be half of who I am today.”