James climbed through the Portrait Hole and stopped so suddenly that Remus nearly walked right over him. There were bouquets everywhere, and in the centre – Lily, back from her short trip to the hospital ward. His roses were on the windowsill, so at least she hadn’t thrown them away as he’d half-expected. Also filling the Common Room were several armloads of lilies, four bunches of carnations, armloads of daisies and mums, something rather cabbagey-looking that had probably come from Hagrid, Honking Daffodils in a flask that probably came from Slughorn, and a few other things beyond James’ ability to identify. Herbology, particularly Muggle Herbology, was not his strong point.

Apparently Lily had decided to share her flowers with the rest of Gryffindor House, which was probably sensible if the girls’ rooms were the same size as the boys’. There might not have been room for anyone to sleep up there for blossoms. He wished she’d at least taken his roses up there.

But on the bright side, they weren’t in the bin. On balance, he’d score that as a win. “All right, then, Evans?� he asked, sitting casually across from her and digging out a book. Advanced Floral Transfiguration -- oops. He put that back hastily and pulled out Gottshalk’s Grade 7 instead. Lily didn’t seem to have noticed.

“It seems I’ll live.� She kept petting Morag’s vast evil cat, who seemed to prefer Lily’s lap to all others, and gave James a vaguely friendly smile before drifting back to other contemplations.

'Vaguely friendly' was about the best he could expect. He followed her line of sight to a small handful-worth of black irises, almost lost in the riot of colour but distinctive for their own strange hue. James pondered them for a moment himself, noticing something mysteriously familiar about the blooms, then gave up understanding them on his own. “From someone special?�

She sighed. “Maybe. Sort of. Not exactly.�

“Well, that clears everything up.�

Her expression softened, and she chuckled. “They probably mean something complex, but I’m not sure what.�

“Do they have to mean something at all?�

“They all mean something.�

James gave her a doubtful look. “What do those mean?� he asked, pointing to the tiger lilies on the mantle.

“That Morag – and Henry, here, supposedly – wanted me thinking of tigery creatures and getting well.�

“And that cabbage thing?�

“That Hagrid is my friend. Simple enough.�

“And those Honking Daffodils?�

“That Professor Slughorn wishes his favourite student to laugh herself well, and that he wishes he could be seventy again so he could legitimately flirt with me.�

That was worth a moment’s extra thought, but it made some sort of sense. “And those?� He pointed to his own anonymously-given roses.

“An unsubtle young man thinks I might somehow have forgotten that he fancies me.�

Well, yes, that was indeed pretty much what they meant. He’d try someone else’s flowers again. “Those?�

She gave him a patient look. “James, those are lupins.�

Ah. Yes, knowing that, even he could figure it out from there. At least Lily seemed to be enjoying the game. “But the irises are still giving you problems?�

She nodded vaguely. “I think they’re an apology. The question is, is it an apology for anything I ought to want one for?� She’d stopped petting, and Henry butted her hand insistently with his battle-scarred head. “It’s all right, cat, I haven’t forgotten you.�

James watched the pretty girl rubbing the head of the scruffy tom in her lap, found himself envying an ugly old cat, and decided he was better off thinking botanically. “That sounds as though you think you do deserve an apology for something.�

“I’m not even sure of that.� She thought furiously at the flowers for a minute, then suddenly turned that regard on him. “James? I’m sorry.�

He blinked at her. Sorry for not fancying him back? Sorry for turning his bits green last year? Sorry for startling him with her toad way back in first year? “For what?�

She spread her hands. “Exactly. See?�

“Oh.� Probably none of the above, then. Perhaps she was sorry for making an example of his expectations, at least. He heaved a deep breath and took the plunge. “Could these be an apology for not fancying you back?�

The corners of her mouth turned up. “Only if my interest was noticed in the first place.�

“What great idiot…? Lily, you’re a smart girl. I never dreamed you’d fall for someone thicker than a brick sandwich.�

“A brick sandwich,� Lily echoed thoughtfully, and scratched behind the cat’s ragged ear. “Nice one. He’s usually brighter than that, so I’ll have to believe he’s ignoring me.�

“That’s thicker than two brick sandwiches. Even I’m a brick shy for that one.�

Lily laughed softly. “So what’s your advice, Dr. Potter?�

“Give up on him,� he said promptly.

She gave him a long look. He returned a sheepish grin. “Interesting advice,� she told him.

“It’s good advice. I’m just not good at taking good advice.�

That was worth another soft laugh. He loved that laugh. Lily prodded at the purring fuzzball in her lap. “Budge off, cat. That’s enough shedding on my robes for one afternoon.� The cat yawned, showing many sharp teeth and one broken one, stretched, and climbed onto the table to stare thoughtfully at James. Lily stood.

“You’re awfully nice to that cat.�

“He’s nice back,� Lily said with a shrug.

“You know, he once stuck out his paw, put his claws into a meringue I was holding, and took it.� James pantomimed the action. The cat watched narrowly.

“He does that to everyone. Did you take it back?�

“From those litterboxy feet? I don’t think so!�

“There’s your problem, then. If you had taken it back, then freely given him the clawed bit, you would have learned he doesn’t even like meringues.�

“He ate it.�

“Well, of course he did. It had been successfully hunted.�

"Ah." James stared at the cat's eyes. He'd never noticed the texture in cat eyes before. "That sounds oddly related to my advice, you know." He shifted his eyes to Lily without turning his head.

She was smiling a little. "That which is given freely is less interesting than that which must be hunted? I guess it does. But 'make yourself huntable' can only work for one of us at best."

James grinned his most impish grin, suspecting he shouldn't say what he was saying even as he blurted it out. "This is the Age of Aquarius. I'll share if he will."

Lily looked momentarily shocked, then deeply, profoundly amused. "Not," she said precisely, "going to happen."

Oh, well. He wouldn't share, even given the opportunity, anyway, and that glow of amusement in Lily's cheeks was worth any amount of ridiculous lying. "It was worth a try. Oh, well. I hereby give up. I'll just go snog... Not Morag; Fred would turn me into a newt."

"And Morag would feed you to Henry before you could get better. I believe Emmeline's free at present, though." Lily flicked a glance at his open, unread book. "Or you could try reading."

He shook his head in mock sadness. "Far too radical for me."

Lily shook hers back. "James, if you could just be the person out there --" She nodded toward the Portrait Hole. "-- as you are in here, this might have been a very different chat. See you at dinner." And she went up to the girls' dormitories. And James carefully did not watch her do it.

He looked back to his book. There was a cat sprawled across it. "You would make a lovely set of mittens."

The cat looked thoroughly unimpressed.

James sighed. "Oh, all right. You may have my lap if I may have my book back." He slid back in the chair. The cat surveyed the proffered seat with regal disdain, then dropped down onto James' legs, turned around three times on exceptionally pointy paws, attempted to stuff his brushy tail up James' left nostril, flopped, and began to purr.

Well, that was warm and cozy enough. James stroked the brown fur, then experimentally scratched behind a scuffed ear. "I like owls," James told Henry. "They don't land on your homework, or take your food, or bring in little presents like snakes and eat them on the hearthrug." The cat purred on oblivious. "And they're prettier than you."

Without a break in the purr, the cat casually placed his teeth around James' knuckle.

"And they aren't two-faced biting hagbeasts, either," James said, pulling his hand back cautiously. The cat seemed content, so James resumed cautious petting. Come to think of it, his owl Swift had nipped him more than once. And brought in his dinner for everyone to admire. And landed in James' breakfast plate. Maybe that's why Lily had liked her toad Esmerelda. Gross as he found them, James was pretty sure toads didn't bite. Maybe if he'd made less of a fuss about Esmerelda hopping onto his scroll back in first year, Lily would like him better.

He had to admit, at least to himself, that it hadn't been his most poised and collected moment.

When Lily came back down to go to dinner, James was still sitting where she had left him. Henry was a great enforcer of good work habits, his bulk settled firmly, his claws coming out at the slightest shifting of weight. "Lily? Help?"

"You bounce your legs gently twice and say, 'Budge off, cat, I want to go to dinner.' He'll move."

James tried this. The cat gazed up at him with chartreuse disdain. "He will?"

Lily laughed and scooped up the cat without the slightest regard for where her hands went in the process. She hugged the startled beast, rubbed her nose against his, and plunked him on the table. "Now get up, quick, while he's still puzzled."

James did. "Thanks. I'm starving." For the first time, he found himself wishing his Animagus form had been smaller. Then maybe Lily would scoop him up and rub noses with him, too. No -- he was giving up. If he behaved himself, at least Lily would be his friend, which was better than nothing.

She seemed to be waiting for him. There were advantages to this friend thing. For a start, Sirius and the others had laughed at the cat in his lap and left him here, and going through the halls alone with Snape about could become an embarrassing experience very quickly. James brushed off cat hairs, left his books where they lay, and went to dinner with his -- friend.

"Any plans for Hogsmeade weekend, Evans?"

She looked up from her book. "Only that I'm going. I've worn my quill to a nubbin."

James shook his head. "How can one person write so much?"

"Innate talent."

"Anyway -- want to go with me?"

Lily gave James a look that reminded James of Henry at his most flat-eared. At least Henry no longer gave him gratuitous clawings. "You gave up."

"I did. But we'll both be walking down to the village at the same time in the same group of people anyway, so there's not much in it, so if you're not specifically going with Mr. Brick Sandwich, you might as well be with me, right?" He decided to believe that Lily's fit of giggles for his renaming of her thickheaded beloved was a good sign.

"Right. If you're willing to be bored silly shopping for quills, that is -- otherwise I suppose you can continue walking with the rest of the group."

"Remus would probably like something from there for a birthday present; you can help me find something good while we're at it."

"Diricawl feather, maybe? Now go back to giving up so I can finish my Transfiguration essay."

"Giving up," James announced, and grinned. "Or did you miss me chasing Emmeline 'round the table earlier?"

Lily gave him a look of open and amused skepticism. "I did miss that. I thought Sirius was the one for chasing Emmeline, however."

"Not unless she'd stolen his hairbrush."

Lily looked puzzled.

"I'm not supposed to know, but..." James glanced around. Nobody else was in easy earshot. "He doesn't much care about girls," he finished in a whisper.

"Sirius?" Lily whispered back, incredulous.

James nodded.

"Are you sure? "

James nodded again. "He's with Peter."

"Peter? " She seemed to believe that even less.

"I'm not supposed to know." He grinned. "But they aren't as discreet as they think they are. Not in the dormitory."

Lily shook her head. "If I'd thought about it, I might've guessed Remus."

"No. At least, I hope not. Otherwise he's really left out and I'm really outnumbered."

Lily began to giggle, then covered her face with both hands and shook with laughter.

"Okay, pay back. What sort of unnatural goings-on are there in the girls' dormitories?"

Lily stifled her laughter long enough to gasp out, "Wouldn't you just like to know?"

"Fair's fair."

"None. None I know of. Of course, I totally missed yours..."

"Hard to miss if you live with it, unless you sleep like a log and have an innocent mind. Trust me. What's so funny?"

She wiped her eyes. "About... two years of jokes I didn't get."

Two years? Somebody had been way ahead of James, too. Someone may even have been ahead of the involved parties. James thought he knew Sirius better than anyone else did, but apparently not on that point. "Whoever it was must have a good ear for a line to make you laugh this hard."

"Nothing I can quote," Lily said breathlessly, and shifted back in her seat with a grin. "Thanks. I needed a good laugh."

James wished he could feel entirely responsible for giving it to her. And he wondered how a girl who could reel off a class lecture from memory suddenly couldn't quote a single joke. Presumably she was protecting the guilty. "You're very welcome." He bowed sitting down, which wasn't easy. "Don't let them know I told you, all right?"

"Of course not. I can usually manage to keep a secret."

Well, he certainly had enough evidence of that.

-*-*-

"I don't even know why I'm trying to do N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration. Thanks for the help."

"I don't know why I'm doing N.E.W.T.-level Charms, so thanks right back."

"You're doing Charms because you needed one more class and it was that or Potions, am I right?" Lily grinned at him. He'd given up -- he was absolutely not going to make a stupid pass at her for that grin.

"Not to disparage your favorite subject, but yes. Once stopping Snape from blowing the castle sky-high was quite enough."

Lily shrugged. "That must have been an off day. He hasn't done it again."

James paused in their stroll from library to common room and stomped his feet on the reassuring solidity of the stone floor. "Must not have -- it's still here."

Lily had stopped with him, and suddenly stepped forward and hugged him. He stood perfectly still, not believing, unable to get any message from his brain to his hands.

"What's this for?" he asked her hair, indistinctly. When had Lily gotten so short, anyway?

"Being friends with Morag's cat. Studying. Asking the right sort of questions. Getting through your last several sentences without the words 'bloody great idiot' showing up even once."

"Oh." Some connection finally clicked, and he managed to put his arms around her.

"Did I earn that somehow?"

"Getting through the last several sentences without the words 'swollen head' or 'Giant Squid' turning up."

"Oh." She pulled back without letting go of him, checked both ways down the corridor, guided his head down, and kissed him.

He wondered if she'd practiced on someone else, then wondered if he should have, and then remembered that he'd given up on her and shouldn't be enjoying this -- and to hell with all that. He kissed her, too. In all his happy unfulfilling daydreams of kissing Lily, this had certainly never been how he'd gotten here. He told his stupid brain to shut up already and learn to enjoy what it had. He'd wanted to win her with some deed that was noble and heroic and impressive -- and, in retrospect, probably stupid -- and all this time apparently she'd wanted him to be smart and thoughtful and, well, maybe still noble.

And he still couldn't help wondering if there was someone, somewhere in the Wizarding world, who was smarter and more thoughtful and yet thick enough to overlook a girl like Lily, and if she'd done any better a job of giving up than he had himself.

He broke off the kiss and studied her expression. She seemed quite sincere and a bit puzzled. "Does this mean you really did give up on the brick?" he asked, and regretted asking it.

She nodded once, perhaps a little misty-eyed, and smiled a little. "Bricks make good solid friends. Does this mean you really didn't give up on yours?"

James discarded six answers to that question before settling on, "I'm stubborn that way. Remus says I should work on that."

"Don't you dare," she said, and kissed him again.

Well, a man only had so many hours in the day. He'd much rather work on kissing Lily than on decreasing his stubbornness, and did so now. A faint sound caught his Snape-trained attention, and he broke off the kiss again to look around.

"You tease," Lily said playfully.

"I thought I heard someone."

"Peeves, show yourself!" Lily snapped -- quietly. Using the name too loudly could get a poltergeist where there had not been one before. Nothing happened. "He's the only invisible one I know of."

James knew of one more: himself. But the Invisibility Cloak was safely upstairs in his trunk, unless...

No. Sirius wouldn't pinch his cloak. Remus certainly wouldn't. Peter -- well, Peter would certainly be more discreet about it. James was pretty sure his was the only Invisibility Cloak in the castle. With a mental shrug, he decided the remaining time before curfew would be better spent kissing Lily than wondering what a noise might have been.

-*-*-

When James went up to bed late that night, three curious faces greeted him from three sets of bedcurtains. "Well?" Sirius asked.

"Well, what?"

"Oh, come on. Spill," ordered Peter.

"Spill what?" How could they possibly know already?

Remus gave him an unusually toothy grin. "You only think you're sneaky, Prongs. You're blushing."

"I think someone else is sneaky." James yanked open his trunk. The Invisibility Cloak was almost -- almost -- where he had left it. Looking up, he found one curious face and two very guilty ones. "Remus. Do me a favour. Sit on Sirius for a bit so I can punch him a few times once I'm done with Peter."

"I'm your prefect!" Remus protested, without much force. Sirius observed his indecision with open humour.

"Fine, assign them lines, then sit on him!"

Remus put on a lecturing look. "All right, both of you: 'I will not spy on James Potter's love life,' three hundred times."

"Is that each, Mr. Perfect Prefect, or total?" Sirius asked, cheeky. Remus tackled him without further ado, and they rolled laughing on Sirius' bed. It wasn't in the spirit James had hoped for, but Sirius was out of his hair for the moment.

He'd given Peter too much warning. "Rictusempre!"

It was hard to stay properly angry when being tickled half to death. Once James was helpless on the floor, Peter peered over the edge of the bed at him and removed the spell.

"All right, Prongs?"

For answer, James reached up, grabbed Peter by the collar, and yanked. Quidditch reflexes were useful things. A moment later he was sitting on Peter and strangling him lightly. "Don't get into my stuff again, and don't spy."

"I won't spy on you!" Peter choked out.

"Never mind me; don't spy on Lily!" James shook him once more for emphasis, released his hold, and sat up on Peter's stomach to see how Remus was getting along.

The inventor of the Two-Way Mirror, the Lock-Picking Knife, and the Nose-Biting Teacup sat proudly beside a human-sized cocoon of bedcovers. The cocoon seemed to be expressing the belief that Remus Lupin would certainly have won any fair fight and that Sirius Black was a dirty dog. Sirius promised, "I won't spy on Lily either; now get off poor Wormtail before he blows a gasket."

Before he blew a what? James decided not to ask. He never could stay properly mad at Padfoot. "If you'll get off the end of that sheet before Moony smothers." Padfoot always did find the most ingenious uses for the most mundane of objects.

"Agreed."

The two boys released their victims by standing up; James gave his friend a good glare. "Don't do it again."

Sirius tossed his hair back. "I already said I wouldn't. Which brings us back to -- well?"

"Well?" James mimicked. "You should know; you were there. And why were you there, anyway, under my cloak?"

Remus fought his way free of the covers long before Peter had caught his breath, and put in his own glare at Black. "It seems I missed a lot this evening by sitting tamely in the common room, reading. Padfoot and Wormtail prowling about invisibly, Prongs getting kissed at long last. Should I feel left out?"

"You'll keep getting left out of my bit, mate." James turned a grin on the other two. "How about it? Want to explain to your friend here why three is a crowd?"

There was a long elastic silence. Sirius seemed to have frozen in the middle of an expression of interest, Peter in an aspect of guilty glee now slowly crumbling. Remus studied each face and reached the wrong conclusion. "Well, if you've decided you're tired of your monster prefect tagging along and getting in the way --" And he slammed out.

"Nice one, Prongs," Peter said in the echoes of the door's crash.

"I don't see either of you leaping off after him to explain that wasn't what you had in mind." James scooped up the cloak in case of emergencies -- it was long past curfew, after all -- and followed Remus.

He caught up not far from the Fat Lady's portrait. Remus stood facing the wall, one arm against it above his head, the other cradled carefully as if injured. "Go away, James; you're the one I'm not angry with."

"Yeah, well, the ones you are angry with are still upstairs trying to figure out how to tell you they're queer, okay?"

"What, they'd rather say that than..." Remus gave him a sideways look. "You meant that, didn't you?"

"I meant it. And I wish I slept as soundly as you must."

"Well." Remus stared at the stone wall as if it might tell him something interesting. "And that's why they were sneaking off, then?"

James shrugged, though Remus wasn't looking at him. "Most likely. Feel any less left out now?"

Remus snorted. "Maybe. Yes. Probably. "I mean, I'm not one bit interested in whatever they do together in that case."

That covered the yes, but not the maybe or the probably. "But?"

"But... Sometimes I hate not being at the top of anyone's list. Sorry, Prongs, but there it is."

James had never thought of that. Remus was just -- well, Moony, reliable and predictable, the sensible one who happened to turn into a wolf every twenty-eight days. Even that was reliable and predictable. "If we didn't like you pretty well, you wouldn't be calling me Prongs."

"I suppose not."

"Come on, we'll get you a girl too, and then the four of us can triple-date."

That earned him a thin smile. "Not much point in that. I can hardly marry and have a family, can I?"

"Of course you can. We'll all live close together, and once a month the Midnight Marauders will prowl again, and the rest of the time you can go on being the respectable one."

Remus spoke a few words on the subject of respectability.

"You punched the wall, didn't you?"

Remus nodded once.

"Break your hand?"

Through tight lips, Remus indicated that he had.

"I can fix that for you; no need to bother Pomfrey."

Remus gave him a decidedly worried look.

"Oh, come on. Quidditch. I know about broken bits. If I break the last bit of me left to break, I may not want to date Lily anymore. "

His friend finally laughed a little. "I'll take the high road on that one and assume you mean your heart."

"The high road? What other road could there possibly be?" James laughed back and drew his wand to mend the broken hand. "Episkey!"

Flexing his fingers, Remus admitted, "Not bad, Prongs."

"Not bad," James scoffed good-naturedly. "You're as hard to impress as Evans. Ready to go up again?"

"No. Let's go nick something from the kitchens first. And you can tell me on the way just how, exactly, you finally managed to impress her."

"What, just march on down there, Mr. Prefect?"

Moony bared a few teeth. "You came charging down here without the cloak? I may have to set you a detention for that."

"No, you won't. Of course I've got it. Let's go stuff ourselves and let those great idiots we live with wonder what we're up to. But I'm not too sure what I did right, so you have to kick me if it looks like I might stop doing it, before Lily gives me the boot. You're the only one I can trust with the job."

"Count on me. Do you suppose there's any pie left?"

"I was hoping for treacle tart, myself."

"Addict."

James hid the Invisibility Cloak more carefully after that, successfully enforcing the new rule of the Marauders: No spying on Lily.

Absolutely no spying on Lily. Not even James himself was allowed to spy on Lily. Not even if his curiosity was killing him with wondering where she was during his Quidditch practices and instead of breakfasting with him on Sunday mornings and otherwise vanishing like smoke when he wasn't looking.

So he was emphatically not following Lily for any such purpose this evening -- he merely wanted to make sure his Muggle-born girlfriend was safe from hex-happy Slytherins. Duelling with her in DADA classes had taught him how fast she was; she'd probably gotten that through vast experience. Hell, she was probably bloody near as fast as that serpent Snape, but James still didn't like the idea of a real skirmish between the two taking place without him handy to interfere. She might be as fast, but she was nowhere near as nasty.

He trailed her up to the seventh level, wondering what on earth she'd found to do up here -- the only feature of even the remotest interest was the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, which she seemed to be ignoring. She strode down the corridor, pivoted suddenly to face him with a look of concentration that made him almost certain she'd heard him, almost walked right over him, then swung away for a third pass. Had she dropped something? Frozen in place, James glanced down to check. Then Lily turned to a door he'd never seen before and entered a room he didn't know, in this castle he thought he'd known intimately.

He blinked at the door, puzzled, and went to try the knob. It, and the door, vanished before he'd taken two steps. He searched the wall with his fingers, then with his wand. Nothing. Well, she had seemed to know what she was about. Pace the hall three times, thinking... what, exactly? Some incantation? A wish? The castle architect's mother's maiden name? Lily had vanished into an unknown part of Hogwarts and he could no more resist trying to follow her than he could resist hexing Snape.

He paced briskly down the corridor almost back to the stairway, turned, went back to where Lily had stopped the first time, did the same, and froze again. Apparently thinking of Snape was a bit like shouting Peeves' name. The infernal nuisance was no more than four paces behind him, wearing a distressingly thoughtful expression. James held his breath.

Snape paused, one finger at his lips, so close that James probably couldn't draw his wand without elbowing his foe, and studied the tapestry, the dark gaze roaming as if the trolls clubbing their ballet teacher might give him some inspiration. It seemed they had. Snape drew his wand, sketched an idle-looking shape with it, nodded to himself, and resumed his prowl.

James decided he could breathe again and wondered what Snape was up to since Snape up to nothing was inconceivable. Hopefully the first trip up the corridor still counted despite the interruption. He started off again and rediscovered something important -- a Snape no longer in sight was not necessarily an absent Snape.

The air around James thickened into some impossible gel, encasing him gently from the neck downward. It might have felt comfortable, if someone else had done it to him and he'd been in no hurry to go anywhere. Under the circumstances, he might as well try politeness as anything. "Nice one."

"Thank you," Snape said from behind him, and seemed to be willing to leave the conversation there.

Twisting his head around gave James a sore neck and the vaguest view of a Hogwarts uniform at the edge of his peripheral vision. It wasn't worth the effort. "I suppose there's no point asking you to teach me that one."

"I dislike teaching."

James disliked long silences, especially long silences while he was held practically immobile in front of an enemy's wand. "Are you planning to do something interesting back there, or see how long it takes me to die of boredom?" Silence. "And how did you even know I was here?"

There was a soft sound of mirth behind him. "Potter, you would need to add an Inaudibility Cloak to the one you have -- and perhaps to give up that alleged cologne -- to be remotely discreet."

"Lily gave me that cologne."

"One might suspect she was kidding, as with the Cockroach Cluster."

James had to think about that -- oh, right, five years previously, when he and Snape vaguely got along, they had wound up in hospital together and James had tried to pass off a Cockroach Cluster from Lily. If he was referring back that far, it was probably safe to assume he'd remember the next conversation they'd had as well. "The other thing everyone bloody hates about you is that you remember bloody everything."

"The other? I had believed the list rather longer."

"You mean, such as prowling about jinxing people in the corridors? I can't imagine why that would bother anyone."

"You probably cannot. Otherwise I would have to suspect you of a sense of irony not previously demonstrated."

And that dead-ended the conversation again. "What are you doing up here, anyway?"

"Nothing that needed to interest you."

That simple sentence sounded as though it had at least four layers of meaning. James tried to decide which one he wanted. "Simple tapestry appreciation, then?"

"And what was your purpose in this empty bit of Hogwarts?"

"Trying to keep my girl safe from hex-happy bastards like you." As soon as James said that, he realized he'd blundered. Aubrey and Gilbert hexed Lily, yes, if they could get away with it or thought they could, and Rosier and Wilkes could be outright nasty about it, and Carter the prefect had done it a couple of times, though even Lily herself thought that was mostly to keep from looking too odd. But, now that James really thought about it, not Snape. Knowing Snape, of course, that could have been some subtle and complex ploy to look undeserving of the Marauders' attentions and trick Lily into being on his side -- if, of course, Snape had ever shown any grasp of the concept of 'sides' or any desire for anyone's pity. And there were two perfectly reasonable things that Snape could be saying right now, a denial of the accusation or a polite inquiry into where exactly this alleged girl might be, and yet he was saying nothing. James added everything twice, checked his figures, and felt smart. "Brick sandwich," he said, and thoroughly enjoyed saying it.

The sense of amused menace behind him faded considerably, though it might have been imagination all along. "I beg your pardon?"

Puzzling Snape was an event for the diary, and James deeply regretted that he could never share this moment with anyone, ever. "At the beginning of the term, Lily told me she was interested in someone who wasn't interested back, and I said he had to be as thick as a brick sandwich. And if he knew she was interested and overlooked her anyway, I upped it to two."

There was a faint rustle of robes hinting of a shift of weight. "And?"

If James had added incorrectly, he had his back to a very deeply insulted Slytherin who knew some nasty tricks. He might even if he had added correctly. "And," he continued, still feeling smug -- after all, he seemed to have won Lily -- "she meant you."

A silence followed, so long James thought he might have been left. "You do tend to choose the simplest and least flattering explanations," Snape said eventually.

"All right, what's the complex and flattering one?" Not that James had any right to ask personal questions, but Snape had left him damn-all else to do with this air-gel stuff holding him in place.

"They are legion. The one you would probably understand best is that I do not wish to see Lily hurt. Something you might also keep in mind, by the way."

James would have preferred to have his skin stripped off rather than hurt Lily; Snape's tone suggested a closer relationship between the two possibilities. "I would never hurt Lily."

"If you knew just being with her put her in danger, would you leave her?"

James tried to turn to see Snape's expression, to see if that was hypothetical for himself or a restatement of Snape's own situation, or some other complicated statement, but was held fast. "Assuming I believed you?"

"You would not, of course. And Potter? Even I find it morally dubious for you to spy on your girlfriend." The silence that followed took on a gradual difference, a certain empty quality.

"Snape?"

No thoughtful pause, no feel of a sneer drilling between his shoulder blades. Just ordinary empty-corridor quiet.

"Snape! If you don't undo this spell I'll 'morally dubious' you into next week!" Shouting threats might not be the best bargaining strategy, but it was a bit late to think of that now. "Snape? I passed you a few good things along with that Cockroach Cluster, remember?" Five years ago. There had also been a few stunts involving immobility and Filch's mop cupboard, come to think of it. And a few humiliations in front of Lily. Quite a lot of humiliations in front of Lily. Quite a lot of stunts. "Severus?"

Well. It seemed there was nothing to do but try to draw a little power from the wand in his pocket, with no luck, and try to make up a good story for the next person to happen along, who would almost certainly be Lily. Well, she might as well know about the Invisibility Cloak, and maybe she could even think up some new uses for it. The hard part would be explaining what he was doing here in the first place.

At least he was calm in his cozy little prison. The Midnight Marauders had once confessed their deepest dislikes to each other, and this spell could almost make him think Snape had managed to overhear them in their own dormitory. Peter hated to be helpless, and Remus hated to be confined, and Sirius just plain hated Snape, but James could only define his hatred as of "icky things," which the others had found nebulous and unsatisfying. This spell would have made his three friends very unhappy, but...

Apparently it had some sort of time limit and revealed its true nature in its dissipation. James had considered it to have made the air softly solid. Now it seemed instead to be a bath to his neck of lukewarm and stiff slime on which someone had just pulled the plug of a very small drain. The uppermost edge slid from his Adam's apple to the hollow of his throat clingingly, seeming to leave a residue of raw egg, slithering against him and oh Merlin's beard and thickened toenails how long before he could reach his wand and break himself free? He was certainly going to faint, throw up, or scream before then, and none of those would do him the least good.

The bright side. There was one. He would think of it hard. Snape disliked using his little inventions over and over. James would probably not have to stand rigidly trying to shrink by two clothing sizes in the company of an angry Sirius, a panicky Peter, and a distressed Remus at some later date. Poor Snape, wasting an admittedly good spell on just one of them. Had James really just thought 'poor Snape'? He was coming unhinged. Never mind admitting even in his thoughts that this was an excellent if ghastly spell.

Every bit as ghastly as the thought of Lily having anything to do with Snape, or Snape with Lily. On the other hand, Lily had been disappointed, and said bricks made good solid friends. So why had the two been meeting in secret as though...?

Well, obviously, because a Slytherin and a Gryffindor could not be at all civil to each other in public and still survive Hogwarts as it was. Especially that ugly git of a Slytherin and pretty popular Muggleborn Lily.

James shuddered as the spell oozed its way to the middle of his chest. Why hadn't Snape stayed around to watch and gloat a bit longer? Well, the spell was invisible and so was James; watching would have been about as interesting as watching mould grow. And as for gloating, well, this spell seemed to give enough time for that and a clean escape.

And that was about as kind a thought as James was going to manage as he became intimately familiar with the feel of a gooey fluid trickling away from each pair of his ribs. He could just about almost credit Snape with a small helping of brains before making another futile effort to break free. Oh, yes, a very clever son of a --

Presumably there was a side of Snape that Lily saw and James did not. Had Lily ever had a good look at this side? The cursing, swearing, slime-creating, snake-summoning...?

Apparently panic just made the stuff move more slowly, or seem to. Relaxing, taking deep breaths, and trying to remember when the gel had seemed rather comfortable all seemed to help. This was, after all, temporary, no matter how gross. His wand hand would be free soon, and then he could just end the spell. He'd been caught with that hand partway up, and the edge of the ooze seemed to slide caressingly over a knuckle of his thumb. Soon, he reminded himself. Very soon.

And the confoundingest part was, he was pretty sure he couldn't exact the sort of vengeance he craved a friend of Lily's. James was pretty sure that by now he would normally have a perfect prank in mind even with this vile distraction creeping down him. Lily's friends were off-limits, even this one he supposed. He waved a few fingers, aware of the way his wand's weight distorted his still-unreachable pocket. Soon, he promised his shrinking skin. What had he done to deserve this?

A treacherous corner of his mind offered up several stored-up possibilities, quite a lot of them pranks that had seemed a lot funnier at the time.

All right, maybe he had deserved it. Maybe believing that would make the spell end.

Maybe really, really believing that would make the spell end.

He would soon be able to move his arm. At least Snape hadn't performed a Full-Body Bind on him and stashed his invisible self somewhere tricky, which come to think of it would also have been fair. Assuming James kept his sanity, Snape had done him no lasting harm. Lasting embarrassment was usually more the goal, and James thought he might just avoid that too.

Two experimental heaves, and his arm came free with a distinct sucking sound that made goose pimples form. James grabbed at the handle of his wand. "Finite Incantatem! "

The transparent goo became suddenly, horribly magenta, trailing over his freed parts in long slobbery lines. It was one of those spells. "Evanesco slime! " The magenta turned to a colour James could only think of as toad-bogey green. Spell disruptions were coming to mind very poorly for some reason. "Finite! " James was now waist-deep in mealworms, with more in his cloak and clothes. He used one of the words he would have punished Snape for using. The mealworms turned to an ochre pudding-like mass.

It responded to swearing. The curse would be undone with the right curse word, used enough times. Was the level still falling? It was, slowly, so if James couldn't find the correct pick from Snape's rather phenomenal vocabulary, he'd still be free eventually. He certainly didn't know that many himself, did he?

James tried quite a few colourful words, getting varying responses from his nasty imprisonment, none of them a step back along the chain of transformations. This was a Markov Charm -- any incorrect attempt to remove it would simply nudge it along a path of increasing chaos. Irena Markov earned a few rude remarks that also failed to improve matters. Hip-deep in what appeared to be puree of rotten banana, James announced to the world at large, "Oh, bugger."

The puree retreated back to glowing turquoise sludge.

"Oh, bugger?" James tried again, and got another retreat, to something like semi-liquid tepid cheese sauce. "That's the best you could do?" he said in disbelief to an absent Snape, and was right back to turquoise. The trailing edge was almost to his private bits; James hastily recited, "Oh, bugger!" a shocking number of times. Was his own vocabulary really that large? Eventually his entrapment turned toad-bogey green, then magenta, then invisible, then disappeared, except --

Except for a clinging residue on and in his cloak and robes. James said, "Oh, bugger!" one more time with extra fervour and changed nothing. How would he have felt saying that a few dozen times in front of Sirius and Peter?

He took off the Invisibility Cloak and surveyed himself. Which would be worse: waltzing into the Common Room looking as though he'd been rolled in last week's kitchen leavings, or gliding through the halls as a heap of garbage smells with an invisible centre? There wasn't a hint of cologne remaining, that was certain. No, Snape meant to pay him back for everything.

James could just go let the others know he had been bested, leave them to their amusements, and get his revenge without attacking Lily's friend himself. No, he couldn't. He closed his eyes and mouth tightly, took a deep breath, and pointed his wand at himself. Scourgify!

After his unpleasant coating, the soapy vacuuming of the spell almost felt good. Almost.

He sulked back to the dormitory, thinking that love could make a man put up with a lot and he hoped he'd done his full share of tolerating tonight.

When Lily returned just before curfew, James was revising dutifully, looking up new Defence spells and memorizing them. At present, knowing how to defend oneself was smart -- both outside Hogwarts and inside. Sirius was beside him with a Muggle magazine from Heaven-knew-where. Lily dropped into a chair across the table from them, gave Sirius' feet a mild glare where they rested, and smiled at James with the same expression he was pretty sure he was wearing himself. She had plainly had a perfectly boring evening, about which there was absolutely nothing to say. So had he.

Sirius lowered his magazine, looked from one to the other of them, and swung his feet off the table. "There is way too much innocence at this table for me. I think I'll go upstairs and let you two discuss whatever you haven't been doing."

James gave him a puzzled look that would have been worth a lot more if Lily had not done the same. He was beginning to wonder how much she had gotten away with, and for how long, wearing that expression. Sirius shook his head at them and left.

“So. Where have you been all evening?� James asked blandly, trying to imply that he’d been in this very chair all night.

Lily tossed her auburn hair back. “Just studying Potions.�

Oh, bloody hell, of course. Potions. Lily was Slughorn’s best student ever, to listen to him, and Snape was not far behind, presumably on Lily’s coattails even if they hadn’t shared a cauldron in class in years. They were sneaking off together to study. They bloody well better have been studying. The idea of coming in second to -- that -- made James feel worse than the sliming spell had. He clenched his teeth. “With Snivelly, by any chance?�

“Whatever would make you say that?� she said in a light tone that would have fooled him if he hadn’t been almost an eyewitness.

“I figured it out, Evans. You’ve been sneaking off to meet with him for – what, years now? Presto, two brilliant Potions students, and one can’t stand to see the other get whatever he deserves.�

Lily studied him with a cold expression that suddenly seemed distressingly familiar. “It isn’t as one-sided as all that. And how did you figure this out? Something sneaky, perhaps? A little spying?�

Damn and double damn. She was absolutely right, of course, and was using exactly the words he and his friends had been using to describe Snape’s behaviour for years. Denials now would only doom him further. “And you didn’t trust me enough to just tell me? Think how much trouble you could have saved everyone, him included, with a little more honesty.�

“Why on earth would I trust you enough to tell you something like that? When have you ever done anything that would convince me you’d pay the least attention? And why did it take the allegedly brightest student in Hogwarts six years to figure out he should quit being a bullying fathead for one full minute and pay some attention to what he was doing? Was I not supposed to notice that being seen within shouting distance of my friend usually made something bad happen to him? That didn’t make me think saying anything to you was going to do a bit of good.� Lily was in full flow now, and getting in words was beyond even James’ skill at interrupting or deflecting her anger. “And as long as we’re on the subject, what did you do this evening, exactly, that made him half an hour late with a complete snarled explanation of ‘Potter’?�

Up until that last bit, James had been willing to admit she had a point. He would have assumed Lily was only taking pity on Snape, and that he was only taking advantage of her. He had assumed that the time she spent with Snape previously had been at Slughorn’s request, and that her interferences with the Marauders’ pranks had been pure noble-headed spoilsporting. But to suggest that he, James, was the only one to blame in that ongoing war of wills… “I didn’t so much as shoot a spark at him! I couldn’t! He’d done something vile from behind me, and repaid anything he might possibly have owed me. So if he was in some sort of temper, you’d best ask him about it because he bloody well won.�

Lily looked acutely skeptical. “Are you certain?�

James snorted. “Well, let’s see. I was the one stuck in one place, up to my neck in ectoplasm, getting grilled as to my intentions, and he was the one who was snide, cryptic, and free as a lark. What do you think? He won? I say he won. He does, sometimes, you know.� He waited. “Oh, come on, not even a crumb of sympathy?�

Lily glared at him. “Not until I know exactly where you were and what you were doing.�

Blast. In the course of things, he’d forgotten to make up a good lie. Now he was stuck with only the best possible truth. “I saw you going off by yourself, and with prats like Aubrey and – Rosier about, I thought I’d follow and watch your back. So I was standing around on the seventh floor wondering where you’d got to, and suddenly realized nobody was watching my back – except your mate Snape.�

Lily’s expression hadn’t let up in the slightest. “Next time you want to ‘watch my back,’ let me know you’re there, all right? Then it’s a bit less like spying on me.�

“Next time tell me what you’re up to instead of sneaking off,� he snapped back, thoroughly out of temper by now and somehow still keeping himself from shouting here in the middle of the Common Room.

“So you can lie in wait properly?� she accused.

“So I can feel you’re off to study with a friend instead of doing something worth sneaking for. So I can feel a little less like I came in second. So I can feel as though you trust me. Good enough?�

“Trust you? I mostly do, James. Just – not with that.� She still looked angry, but also rather sad. “Not after six years of telling you to lay off him. I do love you. Don’t make me choose whether to love you or keep that friendship.�

She hadn’t said she loved James before. This wasn’t the context he’d had in mind when he’d dreamed of her saying it. He hadn’t thought he’d be this angry with her when she said it. “Why the hell not?�

“Because --� She stopped and shook her head, her hair falling into her face. “You really can’t figure it out yourself, can you?�

James hated to feel this lost, and hated to feel that his stupidity might just be enough to lose him what he had so recently and miraculously gained. “I’m sorry. I really can’t.�

Lily sighed. She was looking at him as though he were dense, but that was better than looking as though she hated him. “Example. Sirius is from a pretty awful family, right?�

James nodded. That was one of the first things he’d learned of Sirius – from Snape, come to think of it.

“But he has you and Remus and Peter. And that helps, doesn’t it?�

James nodded again, puzzled.

“Now, in your head, take Remus and Peter away. They never joined the group. They never liked him – maybe you, but not him. It’s just you and Sirius. Got it?�

It wasn’t easy, but he tried. No steady, sensible Remus for them to run with at the full moon. No nervous, shy Peter who seemed to love Sirius so much. For Sirius, only James.

“Is that well in your head? Good. Now.� She leaned in close. “I’ve never understood what you see in that dodgy friend of yours, Black,� she said evenly, her green eyes boring into him. “He goes or I do.�

James looked for the hint of a joke. “You didn’t really mean that, did you? I mean, we’re still hypothetical here, right?�

Lily raised an eyebrow, and James was suddenly unsure whether she had learned the expression from Snape or the other way around. If she didn’t mean what she had just said, she was an awfully good actress.

He realized he was looking for an answer that would satisfy her without committing to anything. That was no good. He didn’t have the talent for it. “I’m sorry. I have trouble thinking the unthinkable.�

Lily’s mouth usually had the hint of a smile lurking about the corners, but not now. “And there’s the problem in a nutshell.�

“I mean, Sirius isn’t…� There were a lot of ways to end that sentence, and none of them would do him any good.

The eyebrow lifted slightly higher.

“Okay, I don’t pretend to understand how you can be saying it, but at least I see what you’re saying. You can keep your awful friend if I can keep mine.�

Lily grinned suddenly. He must have passed. “Silly boy. I like Sirius – most of the time.�

“You mean, when he’s not testing out his newest invention on your friends? In fairness, he’s used all of your friends at one time or another.�

“He has. And that’s precisely what I meant. Now go get that cloak of yours. I think I know a better use for it.�

That sounded promising. However – “Did it ever occur to you that I might still be a little miffed at you?�

“Are you? Can you really stay angry at a pretty face like this?� She gave him her most winning smile from behind her curtain of hair.

“Absolutely. Of course. Definitely.�

“You’re a lousy liar, James Potter.�

“Bring it here in the evening, not to the breakfast table,� James had told Swift, his owl, after recruiting his parents to make a special purchase for him. It seemed the bird had understood, clever fellow, and James gave him several Owl Treats for it at the dormitory window.

The package was undamaged. He peeked in at the contents, which proved fine as well. Good. It wouldn’t do to give Lily a ruined birthday present, especially not this one.

James stared out into the mild May evening. He hoped Lily liked her present. If she didn’t, he was stuck with it, and it didn’t exactly suit him. If she did, well, it would look far better to him on her hand. If she liked it, maybe she would judge him a better person than he’d been.

He wasn’t even sure she wanted one.

He put the parcel carefully away before his friends came back from dinner and laughed at him for it, then worked on his strategy. Lily tended to be up early; he’d catch her in the Common Room to hand over her present. She’d probably like it much better than last year’s Midnight Marauder Singing Fiasco, at any rate. If they had rehearsed first, they would have known only Sirius could carry a tune, and revised their plans accordingly.

If Lily were not a music lover, that might still have gone over better. James had put a little more research into this year’s surprise.

There was no point in staring at the package and wondering. He might as well go down to dinner and wonder, then revise for N.E.W.T.s and wonder, then go to bed and wonder.

Maybe he could give it to her an evening early? No, that would be silly.

Maybe he could give it to her at midnight?

---

The next morning, before the window was showing more than a trace of light, James sneaked out of bed. He made the most he could of himself – his hair was hopeless, there was nothing new in that – and checked the package one more time. Nothing dreadful had happened to it during the night. Nothing dreadful happened now, either; his roommates snored on, leaving James to conduct his romantic fool’s errand in peace.

He lounged in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, nonchalantly reading a Quidditch book he’d read thirty times before, casually pretending he wasn’t facing the stairway to the girls’ dormitories for any particular reason. The package was nestled safely between the arm of the chair and his side. He hoped the warmth wouldn’t hurt it – now that was just plain silly. It wasn’t that fragile.

Lily came down the stairs at least six millennia after he had settled in to wait, and smiled at his innocent greeting. “And good morning to you, too, O Sneaky One. What are you doing up at this hour?�

He grinned back, accepting that he probably never would put anything past Lily, ever. “I wanted to give you your birthday present. Privately,� he added as Morag Jones came down the stairs next.

Lily gave him a saucy wink and told Morag she would be at breakfast soon. Some joke apparently passed between them by that mysterious girl-to-girl telepathy they all seemed to have, and Morag went through the Portrait Hole giggling. Lily sat in the next chair from James. “Am I to guess what it is?�

“You’ll never guess what it is,� James told her, rather proud of himself.

“Twenty Ways to Transfigure Your Boyfriend? I’ve three copies already. You’ll have to give it to Sirius instead.�

He laughed. She’d gotten awfully comfortable with that little secret – more than he had, really. “Not it.�

“Hmm. A magically expanding bouquet of singing roses?�

“Not even close.�

She assumed a thinking pose, clearly trying to dream up the most ridiculous possible present. That was a little disappointing.

“Give up yet?�

“Well, unless you heard me say my next pet was going to be a dragon, I have no idea.�

A dragon? She was as bad as Hagrid. “Not exactly a dragon egg. But here you go. Happy birthday.� James tried not to worry about what she would think of the contents. It was certainly no dragon.

Lily weighed the item thoughtfully, then peeled off the brown paper. She stared at her present for a long minute.

A small tadpole swam in the jar in her hands, its yolk sac still visible, nibbling algae from the glass. Lily said nothing.

“Lily, meet Junior. I thought we’d be good parents as long as I don’t have to change his diapers.�

Lily held the jar up to the light, and the little creature within bumped at the glass, trying to sample her fingers. The silence stretched.

“Do you like him?�

Lily stood from her chair, still watching her new pet – at least, James fervently hoped it was her new pet – and took the jar to the nearest table. She put it down gently, with a faint click of glass on wood.

She didn’t like it, James thought. Maybe she hadn’t wanted another toad. Maybe Esmerelda had meant too much to her. Maybe –

Lily faced him with a serious, solemn expression, then crossed the floor with steady, even steps. He rose to meet her. She put her hands on his shoulders, still serious, to study his face carefully.

“James Potter,� she said thoughtfully, using his full name as though he was in trouble, “will you marry me?�