St. Mungo's Waiting Room had never been so full. At the very sight of the numerous redheads, the Healer in charge had smiled privately to herself, tapping a quill to her lips as she regarded the freckled family spreading out and claiming seats - at least, those who hadn't taken to pacing.

"Arthur, Arthur Weasley." The Healer, whose name was Marianna Whimblewurst, approached the harrassed looking man and took his hand in her own, shaking it firmly. At his side in a wheelchair, she viewed an attractive twenty's-something woman, very pregnant, who seemed to have a death grip upon the hand of Harry Potter. If this wasn't Arthur's daughter, Ginny Weasley-Potter, she'd eat her robes.

"Healer Whimblewurst," came the relieved reply from the aging man. "What a pleasure to see you. I'm sure you can warrant a guess as to our visit?"

"Naturally," came the instant responce. Her attention drifted towards Ginny, who's face adopted an expression of alarmed pain. "How about we set you up in a room and see how far along you are, hm?"

Ginny looked pleased at this, and turned her brown eyes upon her husband. "Are you okay?" she asked gently, the smallest trace of a smile flirting across her lips.

To this, Harry blinked and nodded rather jerkily. He had faced dark creatures, Death Eaters, and even Voldemort himself, but the idea of facing the birth of his child was equally alarming. He really didn't know to go about it. Looking for some sort of advice or guidance, he instead viewed the enquiring look coming from his wife and company. Smiling weakly, he reached forward and took hold of the handles on his wife's wheelchair, pushing as he struggled to keep up with the long strides of Whimblewurst..

---

"You're doing great, Gin'. Amazing," said Harry, brushing back her crimson fringe from her sweating forehead and holding onto her hand while trying not to wince as another contraction raged through his wife's body. He hated seeing her in so much pain, but couldn't help but grin. This was the birth of his baby - his breaths came irregularily.

"Okay, Mrs. Potter, I'm going to need you to push now," interrupted their Healer. They had spent twelve hours in the hospital, and from the Healers flitting in and out of the delivery room, the time was taking its toll on the Weasley clan. Half had fallen asleep - excluding Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and Ron (basically, the men), who were driving the staff wild with their incessent questioning and aggressive demands to see the patient.

"The baby is crowning!"

"Push, Ginny! Push!" Harry attempted to catch sight of their child, but grew flustered and pulled back, feeling unnaturally dizzy.

Ginny growled, offered several curse words which made her husband flinch for the second time, and finally screamed as she felt her baby leave her and slide into the waiting hands of their Healer. Her breathing, harsh and unsteady, filled the nearly silent room.

But was interrupted as Ginny yelped with yet another contraction.

"Another baby!" gasped Whimblewurst, and the process was repeated.

---

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"It's been ages, mum. What if something's gone wrong?" questioned Ron, seated in his chair with his head bent down, firey hair grasped in his hands.

"Child labour is a fickle thing, Ronald, and you'd best learn to be patient. You'll find yourself in this position again not too long now, won't you?" questioned a maternal looking woman. Molly's proud gaze fell to her son's wife, Hermione, who was nearly seven months along, asleep in her chair with her head resting on Fred's shoulder.

Arthur, meanwhile, continued to pace along the room, hands thrust into his robe's pockets. He was familar with this waiting room, having paced it seven times. Six for his own children, and one for his first grandchild - Bill and Fleur's daughter.

"My delivery seemed so much quicker," purred the French beauty, her hand resting upon the arm of Bill. "We 'ad such talented 'Ealers back in France." Their daughter, asleep in her father's lap, was already acknowledged as a heartbreaker. Her heart-shaped face was framed with golden curls, and though they were closed at the moment - brilliantly blue eyes.

"Yes," replied Molly, though she didn't seem quite as enthralled as Fleur hoped her to be about those particularily 'talented' Healers back in wonderous France. However, as her eyes rested upon her grandchild, a sincere smile graced her features. "Jacqueline is perfect."

The others murmured their agreement while Fleur preened and Bill beamed, looking just as proud as any other father, even with his mangled face. (Courtesy of Mr. Fenir Greyback, himself). They only were silenced as Harry appeared in the Waiting Room, looking tired but ecstatic as he motioned for his family to follow him.

---

"Another set of twins!" crowed Molly, looking down to the pink bundle of blankets with her tearful eyes, hiccoughing lightly while sending loving glances to her daughter and son-in-law. To her left was her own husband, his thin arms full of another set of blankets - this time blue.

"A girl and a boy," agreed Ginny, her voice weak with exhaustion, though she never appeared more radiant with her purple bags beneath her eyes and her tousled mane of hair falling past her shoulders.

Ginny's brothers and their families had already departed, leaving behind balloons and teddybears, both for mother and children. Ginny was almost pleased with their absence. As much as she loved having her family around her, the peace was nice, and she was happy to have the privacy she needed when her babies needed to be fed. (Something she found slightly embaressing when surrounded by numerous male siblings.)

"Have you decided on names?" asked Arthur, his cheeks alive with pink. "Because, you know, I happened to have found this," he took the time to pull a small book from his pocket, placing it in Harry's outstretched hand. "It's a clever little thing Muggles have come up with. A Baby Name book! It's got names, along with origins and meanings. It really is quite marvelous." His glasses began to slide down his nose as he spoke, and Molly merely shook her head at her husband's enthusiasm.

"Actually," responded Harry, busy as he flipped through its pages. "I was hoping we could name the boy after my father and Sirius.." He looked questioningly at his wife. He guessed that naming their children was quite important for the mothers. A small ritual that should not be interrupted.

"And the girl after your mother," added Ginny. Instantly, Harry felt quite pleased and vowed to pamper Ginny for many months to come. Such an understanding woman deserved it. "Yes, I'd think I'd like that," she continued. "James Sirius, and Lily. Lily Molly?"

"James Sirius and Lily Molly Potter it is. Welcome to the world."

"Mummy, how do you spell 'Today'?"

"T-O-D-A-Y," came a gentle voice, the tone laced with curious amusement.

"Thanks." A pause. "How do you spell 'James'?"

"J-A-M-E-S."

"How do you spell, 'Fell in the mud'?"

"Well, those are seperate words, but: 'F-E-L-L'.. and, 'I-N', and 'T-H-E'.. and 'M-U-D'."

The girl nodded thoughtfully, tracing her quill on a page of a leather-bound diary with careful, practised strokes. The child was not more than five, her hair in auburn waves down her back and graced with brilliant bottle-green eyes. She was seated at a table of polished oak, her mother across the kitchen and supervising the dishes which were washing themselves.

A man entered the kitchen, striding over to his red-headed wife and kissing her cheerfully upon her freckled cheek. Ginny offered a giggle and swatted her husband away, leaving him to go sit across the table from his daughter.

"Good afternoon, Lil's," he greeted, looking at her with a questioning gaze. "What are you writing?"

"Daddy! This is my diary," Lily scolded, holding it protectively to her chest and jumping from her seat. "You're not supposed to ask about my entries!" With a huff, she turned and exited through the door.

"Lily!" called her mother after her, looking anxious. "Remember the rule. You're not to write in that without one of us being nearby!"

This would sound quite peculiar to some; a young girl not being able to write in her own diary while being alone. Of course, while Ginny was not often an overly paranoid woman, her own experience with a diary at a young age had left her very cautious with the whole practice.

"So," said Harry, interrupting gently as he flipped idly through the pages of the Daily Prophet, "What's been going on today?"

Ginny turned to him, slightly flustered as she leaned against the counter. "Not too much I'm afraid, but apparently James fell in the mud."

He raised an inquiring eyebrow, but failed to reply as a second child entered the kitchen. This young boy was the same age as his sister, and had the same colour emerald eyes. His hair, most like his father's, was raven black and completely wind-teased. His clothing was covered in dry mud, and he had a slightly arrogant smirk upon his features as he reached over the counter towards a bowl of apples.

"James Sirius Potter," said Ginny, looking over her son as she noted both the mud and expression. "You haven't been taking your father's broom out of the cupboard, have you?"

James spun around, as if amazed his mother would ever suggest such a scandalous concept. "Not me! It wasn't me! Uh uh. No, sir. It was, uh.. Lily! Yeah, that's who. She must've done it. Tsk. That girl is such a brat." He shook his head slowly, left and right, as if the very idea of his sister committing such a crime marred his own innocence.

"Oh?" laughed Ginny, folding her arms across her chest. "That same girl who just happened to leave the room, not only one minute ago?"

"Blimey! She's worse than I thought!" His mouth opened in an over-exaggerated 'O', his eyes betraying himself by displaying mirth.

"Nice try," his mother said, rolling her eyes in the direction of Harry, who had discreetly placed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. "But I could tell you were well practised. Have you been rehearsing by the mirror?"

Her son snorted, grabbing the apple swiftly and running from the room, leaving to the sounds of Harry's burst of laughter and Ginny's attempts to silence him by clouting him in the ear. His footsteps rounded up the steps, slightly muffled by the multi-coloured carpet that went through all the corriders and the stairs. Quickly, he found himself infront of his and Lily's shared bedroom door, and opened it rather brusquely by kicking it.

Two twin beds, wardrobes, desks, and Lily's vanity resided in the surprisingly large room. There was a bookshelf placed attractively in the corner stuffed with books, including James' favorite: 'The Adventures of Hautie the Hippogriff'. With a nod to Lily, he fell onto his blue bed, chomping loudly on his apple.

"Please stop chewing so loud, thanks," his sister said flatly, failing to look up from a puzzle of a flowery landscape she had been working on for the past two days. "You sound like a horse."

"Please stop breathing my air, in my room," he retorted, offensively continuing to chew as loud (or louder) with his mouth wide open.

"This is our room, and I'll certainly work on my little 'breathing' problem. It's such a gross habit anyhow. I have been trying to cut back." The sarcasm was lost on James, who had got up to view the puzzle over her shoulder. If Lily had been strong enough to throw the desk she was sitting on at him, she certainly would've attempted.

"Flowers," he said scathingly, chewing as close to her ear as possible. "Why not my Quidditch puzzle?"

"They 'zoom' too fast and it gets confusing. I prefer my swaying flowers," Lily said, turning to him and propping an elbow upon the surface of the desk.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, skipping over towards the window and thrusting it open. He threw the core of the apple out it, and sat upon the sill as he viewed the greying sky. It had rained yesterday, leaving everything wet and soggy. When he had taken his dad's broom out, he didn't even consider that he would fall off and land into the mud. Yes, the five year old considered himself to be an accomplished flyer, even though his mother didn't want him to go on anything other than that dinky excuse of a children's broom. It didn't go even three feet up!

"Why don't you go play outside before it rains?" suggested his sister, fitting a hexagonal shaped piece into the puzzle. It contained the stem of a violet, and she released a cheerful squeal as the last piece, the bud of a rose, fell into place.

"Because it's bo-oring by myself," he said, stretching his arms over his head sadly. "You know what?" he asked, about to confide something in his sister - something he hadn't done since she got to be able to punch him harder than he could.

"What?" Lily inquired, though she still had a ridiculous grin upon her face - evidence that she still hadn't gotten over her skill with puzzles.

"You're fat and ugly and I hate you."

"James!"

"Just kidding," he said bashfully, "I want you to pay attention to me, not your stupid puzzle."

"Okay, okay," she breathed, swiveling in her seat so that she could face him. "What is it?"

"I can't wait for Hogwarts!" he exclaimed. "I can't wait for the Quidditch, and the Houses, and the classes and professors. For all of it!"

Lily was surprised to see her brother's eyes shine so passionately, and she gave him a shy smile. "I know. It sounds so amazing, doesn't it? We'll be able to do magic! For real!"

"Only six years," he grumbled, ruffling the back of his hair so that it grew to be even more mussed.

"Only six years," Lily agreed, standing up. "Until Mummy and Daddy take us to Platform 9 ¾'s, and we walk to the red train and hear its whistle screech.."

Platform ¾'s was brimming with a motley group of witches and wizards with their children in tow. The most eyecatching sight would've been the crimson steam-engine, proud and bright, and humming with occasional bursts of sound and smoke. Voices of tearful goodbyes rang through the air - mingling with the heavy footsteps of those who were just a tad bit late.

"All right, children."

"This is your first year here, and we've talked it over. You know what to expect and that we're very proud of you both," said a heavy voice, proud and cheerful, coming from a tall and lean man with emerald eyes concealed by a pair of wire-famed glasses. On Harry's arm was his wife, Ginny, and infront of the pair were their children, James Sirius Potter, and Lily Molly Potter.

The twins looked to their parents with expressions of apprehension and excitement, and Harry was swept away by how much older they looked. It must've been the dim light.

James had grown into a lanky boy with knobby knees and a goofy smile. With his windswept hair and large, emerald eyes, he was the spitting image of his father with the button-like nose of Ginny. The most noticable difference between father and son was the lack of eye-wear. Like his mother and sister - glasses were an unneccessary accessory.

Lily, too, had grown to be tall and thin, her auburn hair curling near her elbows. Her fringe, which often fell into her equally bright eyes, was pulled back with a red barrette - though small strands had stubbornly escaped and rested on her eyebrows. Upon her cheeks and nose were the freckles of the Weasley nature, and most of her features - mouth, nose, chin - were similar to the ones residing on Ginny's face.

The pair blinked at their parents for a moment, offered several hugs and kisses, and turned to leave, heading towards the rumbling machine. Lily had just boarded, with James behind her, when their father yelled to them, his hand in the air to gather their attention. "Have fun and listen to your professors!"

An uneasy silence hung in the air for a brief moment before James, looking confused, shouted back, "At the same time?"

---

"So, are we just to enter any compartment that we please?" James questioned his sister, dragging his trunk behind himself and trying to avoid running into Lily's. The corridor in the train was uncomfortably tight, especially since numerous students were attempting to squeeze past the first years, looking disdainfully down at them.

"That's the idea," she responded, brushing back a curl. "Though I suppose we're to avoid any that have especially older students, or Slytherins, for that matter."

James nodded his agreement, and finally came to one that looked empty. Slowly, he slid back the glass-paneled door, and entered without grievances. Lily, who had obliviously continued to walk ahead, didn't realize that no one was behind her.

"I expect the train ride to be a few hours at the least. Mum said that we wouldn't arrive to Hogwarts until dinner, and that certainly implies a lengthy journey, now doesn't it?" She offered a burst of laughter, then paused mid-step. "Oh, look here. There's only one boy in this one." Lily took her twin's silence to be reluctant concurrence, and slid open the door.

At her entrance, the boy in question whom was seated at the window, looked at her curiously, his grey eyes slightly narrowed. He looked quite proper, straight and prim, and looked at her appraisingly. Lily instantly didn't like the feeling, the feeling of being judged. She continued to stare, at a lose for words. She only moved when he interrupted her thoughts, a slow drawl escaping from his mouth, "Might I help you?"

"We'd like to sit here, please," she said, clutching onto the handle of her trunk with sweating hands. She felt dreadfully intimidated - this boy held an aura of being very important, and very aware of his good-looks that were so evident even though he seemed to be Lily's age.

A smirk instantly displayed itself upon his features, and with a cocked head, he said, "We?"

Lily was starting to feel annoyed, and, as if stating the complete obvious, retorted, "My twin and I."

"I'm not sure you're aware," he said, leaning back into the cushions of his seat. "But we are alone. If you do, in fact, have a twin, you must have lost her."

"James is a boy," she snarled, and looked over her shoulder, completely surprised that she was, as this boy said, alone.

---

Meanwhile, a young boy with raven hair sat alone in a compartment, more annoyed than confused. He had stubbornly figured that his sister had cast some sort of spell that had either made her invisable or made her disappear completely. The fact that she could have been swept off in the crowd simply didn't occur to this boy, who furiously cast his gaze to the window.

Slowly, the door slid open, and James whipped around. "Oooh," he said, his arms crossed. "Came crawling back, have you?"

"Well," laughed the intruder, drawing his form into the compartment. "I did miss you since you last came over, which was, when? Last Tuesday? But I don't think 'crawling back' is exactly fitting."

James grinned, his features relaxing as he regarded his friend cooly. "Sorry, Nate, thought you were Lily."

"Ah," replied James' fellow first year, dropping into the seat opposite James. Nate was a good friend of Lily's, and James' right hand man. Incidentally, he was one of Ron and Hermione's children. He was the first to attend Hogwarts however, and was excited at the prospect. Brian, Danny, Julianna (Jules) and Anna Grace stayed home, and were not too pleased about it.

Taking a heavy breath, Nate glanced around easily, his eyebrow raised. "Where did Lily go off to, anyway?"

"Couldn't tell you," he replied, placing a hand in his unruly hair. "She was infront of me, then poof. I'm sure she'll turn up."

Nate shrugged in response, then drew a box of Bernie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and rattled it ominously. "Interested?"

---

"Are you going to sit here the whole trip?" sneered the boy, his arms folded across his chest.

"Yes. Do you mind terribly?"

"I suppose not," he replied, though diverted his attention towards the window, carefully avoiding her gaze. Lily was quite content with that, and followed his gaze towards the scenery. They sat in easy silence for a long time, the only sound being their light breathing, until it was interrupted by an announcement coming from above:

"Would all students please take the time to secure all possessions and dress in their uniforms and robes. The Hogwarts Express is nearing Hogsmeade's Station."

The pair jumped up, rifled through their trunks, and left together towards the end of the corridor, where there were bathrooms and changing stalls available. Lily took her time dressing - carefully attending to her Hogwart's tie (as she had no House one, yet) and smoothing out the wrinkles in her robes. She could hear her friend's stall door bang open, announcing he was finished, and since she could hear no departing footsteps, she assumed he was waiting for her. Cheered, she finished up quickly, and ran her fingers through her hair with one hand while pushing open the door with the other.

---

"Would all students please take the time to secure all possessions and dress in their uniforms and robes. The Hogwarts Express is nearing Hogsmeade's Station."

James looked up to the speaker that announced this, then moved towards his trunk to grab for his robes and uniform (which his mother had folded, sitting on the top of his possessions). He looked to Nate, who was waiting, and the two of them left for the changing stalls down the corridor. There was only one stall availabe, so James motioned for Nate to step in, while James merely waited for one of the other two to open up. He certainly didn't have to wait long, as one with a very blonde boy stepped out. He didn't leave, lingering behind, which James took to mean he was waiting for a friend.

Moving towards the stall, James inclined his head to the boy, but only received a sneer for his effort. Blinking, he entered the stall, closing it behind him as he heard the one to the right open, and then two pairs of departing feet.

'He'll be sorted into Slytherin - that's obvious', James thought to himself, shrugging off his t-shirt.

A/N - Please review and let me know what you think!

"Jugson, Daniel."

Lily looked around with wide eyes, her breath leaking out in unfair bursts. It was so much more than she had expected. Her parents had told her about the half-giant who would guide them across the lake, had told them they would travel through a corrider, which ghosts were likely to visit, and then, finally, be led to the front of the Great Hall, watched by thousands of older and wiser eyes.

"Hufflepuff!"

Attempting to regain any control she claimed to possess, Lily let her eyes land upon the cheerful and maternal looking woman at the front of the room, gripping a horribly worn hat in her stubbly fingers. The woman, who had earlier introduced herself as Professor Sprout, had again and again convinced them that all would be fine - nothing to fear.

She was such a contrast to the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Now, the Potters were familar with the witch, as she was often appearing at their Household with news or other interests of her parents. However, despite knowing her for eleven years, Lily did not possess the gall James had when he referred to her as 'Aunt Minnie'. More than anything, this disturbed the aging witch, but Lily had once sworn she saw her thin lips twitch in what could be a smile. Perhaps. If you squinted.

"Kenmore, Sarah."

The image of a petite blonde, looking fiercely confident, strode up towards the hat and plucked it upon her crown of hair. To the amusement of their peers, it slid down her face, settling itself around her chin.

"Gryffindor!"

The House clothed in scarlet and gold rose to a deafening cheer, and Sarah bounced over, looking completely thrilled. She eagerly shook the hands that were offered to her, occasionally issuing charming smiles and throwing her head back to laugh. For a moment, her blue eyes locked onto Lily's green ones, and she raised a hand in greeting. Startled, Lily awkwardly raised her own hand in the air, and quickly turned her head so that she looked to her friend.

They had entered the Hall together, her gripping his hand while she fought for normalcy. He had looked merely amused, and made little a point of it. Lily thought she had seen James' dark head among the First Year's, but had been swept away to the front before she could get a chance to yell for him.

"LaFolle, Darla."

"Gryffindor!"

It was this girl, more than anyone, who caught Lily's attention. She was one of those people, at sight, who you knew you instantly disliked. Perhaps it was the way she carelessly tossed an ebony lock of hair over her shoulder, or how she shamelessly batted her eyelashes in the direction of James and Nate. Lily hadn't noticed it before, but 'Darla', as it seemed, had been standing awfully close to the pair, giggling at their jokes even James knew were lame.

"Llyod, Steven."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Maddocks, Jessie."

"Ravenclaw!"

To her left, Lily felt someone take an intake of breath, and looked questioningly to the blonde boy. He waggled his eyebrows, smiled, and released her hand. Her palm suddenly felt ice cold.

"Malfoy, Atticus."

A thunderous silence descended upon the Great Hall - more specifically, the table bearing banners of emerald and silver. Lily's eyes darkened as she choked. She felt dizzy, but she stood upright, swaying only slightly. It really was impossible. The first friend she made turned out to be a Malfoy!

Atticus, as it seemed his name was, merely sat upon the stool with little interest. Professor Sprout barely had to place it on his head before the brim spit out, "Slytherin!" It seemed to be no surprise for him, as he moved towards the table with ease.

"Potter, James."

Yet another silence fell. It was interesting how much power a simple surname could possess, thought Lily, her lips curling despite her nausea.

Her brother walked past her, taking a second to take her cold hand in his own and offer a gentle squeeze. She imagined he had not seen her and Atticus, because she knew it would be impossible for him to hold such a cool exterior. His strides progressed, and he soon found him self seated upon the chipped and aged wood. He too, spent very little time on the stool before he was sent in the direction of Gryffindor's table, sitting among screams and whistles.

"Potter, Lily."

Her ears were full of buzzing as she approached the stool, stealing a glance in the direction of the Slytherin table. Atticus' eyes, so full of joy merely moments before, had narrowed dangerously. She wondered how they had come all this way without exchanging names.

"Ahh, another Potter", whispered the Hat in her head. It was a disconcerting feeling, having someone in her head, and she closed her eyes in hopes to bear it.

"I suppose you're hoping to go in the direction of your brother, eh? Lively mind, he has. Your's is much more organized, I hope you know. Makes my job easier."

There was a definite pause, in which Lily took the time to say, "I want to be in Gryffindor."

"And you'd do well there," was the responce. "Yes, I can see it. But you know, there are other options.. you are kind enough to be in Hufflepuff, and very mature, which rises Ravenclaw to attention."

"But not Slytherin?" she asked, flinching as she did so. She imagined it was Atticus that had brought that House up.

"Oh, no," he replied, and she could imagine, if he was a being, shaking his head violently. "Be aware, young Potter, that you should avoid Slytherin at all costs. Toy with a snake, you will get bitten."

She had no time to question this, however, as the next thing she knew, the Hat was being pulled off her head as the shouts of "Gryffindor!" echoed in the air.

Lily grinned toothily, leaning over to Hat now in the grip of Professor Sprout, and whispering, "Thank you". She received an inquiring look from the Professor, but Lily was already on her way, speed-walking so that she might take the seat next to James. She plopped in it, laughing as she was patted on the back by her brother, strangers, and a few faces she recognized, such as her cousin Jacqueline Weasley, and her best friend, Regan Tonks-Lupin.

Eventually, the noise died down, and James elbowed her hard in the ribs as Nate Weasley was called to the stool. Lily felt guilty as her gaze wandered, landing on Atticus across the Hall. His eyes, still dark and narrow, were settled eerily upon her, and she could not help but let the Sorting Hat's warning wander through her thoughts..

"Be aware, young Potter, that you should avoid Slytherin at all costs. Toy with a snake, you will get bitten."

A/N - Shorter than I meant it to be, but I figured it was for the best. Don't forget to review!

Seven years later.

A disgruntled figure rolled around in her confining bedsheets, trying to distangle herself from their folds. Her eyes, narrowed in both exhaustion and frustration, suddenly widened as she felt herself falling - as if in a dream - until she made hard contact with the ground. Grumbling, the teenager nearly ripped off the curtains hanging from her four poster bed, tugging at her white nightgown as she trudged in the direction of the girls' shared bathroom. She hesitated at the closed door to the sound of running water. Wonderful. Someone had beat her to the shower.

"It's Darla," came a voice from behind her. "And she's been in there for ages."

Lily whirled around, so that she faced her best friend, Sarah, who was grinning at her. Lily noted that the girl had the gall to be dressed and ready, her hair perfectly controlled and her face tastefully made up.

"How is it," said Lily, placing a hand upon her hip as she used the other to bang fiercely on the door. "That while you go to bed nearly one o'clock every night, after reading your romantic love novels, that you wake fresher and more alert than any of us?"

Sarah continued to use the Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Magic?" she offered.

Lily smiled, somewhat feebly back, and turned to face the door. "Darla! For Merlin's sake, hurry up!" She uttered a hushed scream as the door was suddenly whipped open, and a girl wrapped in towels (one around her body, another upon her head like a turban) glared at her.

"I'm terribly sorry that I had the nerve to wake first, and to the rights of the shower," snapped Darla, wandering over to her side of the room so that she might dress and get ready.

Lily, hoping to avoid an arguement that she couldn't deal with, merely rolled her eyes heavenward and moved into the bathroom. She shed her nightgown, and stepped into the shower, the water cold due to Darla's indulgence. After a good wash, Lily stepped out and into the empty dormitory; she really was running late.

---

Lily ran down the corridor, her bookbag slapping her hip painfully as she skipped down a flight of stairs. Having woken up so early, she had had to skip breakfast, and could feel her stomach physically complaining because of it as she passed a group of Ravenclaw third-years.

While still running at such a fast pace, she attempted to straighten her red and gold tie, her green eyes downcast. This resulted in a few more successful strides, until she ran into a hard body as the figure rounded the corner.

Immediately, Lily made contact with the ground for the second time that day, and this time, all her possessions went flying through the air and scattering themselves. She released an aggravated sigh as her two ink bottles stained the stone floor black, and began to mumble her apologies.

"Watch where you're going, Potter."

Groaning, she looked upwards so that her eyes met Atticus' intimidating grey ones. "It's not as if you exactly warned me I was coming," she retorted, scrambling around the ground to pick up her things.

"Because I can see though a wall," he sneered, motioning to the stone corner he had been behind until the very last minute.

Her eyes narrowed as she was left with nothing more to say. With her possessions in hand, and the broken ones repaired, she made to leave, hitting shoulders with him as she passed.

"Don't forget!" Atticus called after her, his tone cold but amused. "We have to get together after dinner to supervise the decorations!"

Outside of the Charms door, she paused, cursing christmas decorations, cursing her Head Girl badge, and cursing Atticus for being her partner. And alive.

---

"You seem distracted."

"I'm not."

"You didn't pay attention to any of our classes."

"I'm tired."

"You're not sick?"

"No."

"Then why do you keep answering me with two words or less?"

Lily cringed in guilt. "I'm sorry, Sarah," she said, kicking the tables leg with her foot. (A nervous habit.)

"No worries," she said, cheering slightly now that Lily was opening up. "What's giving you so much trouble that you didn't pay attention in class?"

It really was ridiculous. Lily always paid attention in class. She took notes, met with the teachers after class, and every Sunday she would go over her notes and re-write them if her cursive wasn't up to par.

"Malfoy. I 'ran into him' right before Charms," Lily replied, spearing her chicken with her fork. The Great Hall was full of students during the hour, and everyone was enjoying their conversations and food, speaking with full mouths while reaching for a second roll. "I have to meet him in twenty minutes to supervise the prefects who are supervising the decorations." She rolled her eyes. "My idea of a fun evening, I assure you."

Sarah smirked at this, poking at her potatoes. It was a known fact that Lily and Atticus had been rivals since their very first day. James obviously didn't get along with him either, but the animosity between the female Potter and Malfoy's son filled the whole school with tension. They fought to be best in class, the best Head, and often had arguements in the halls. If Lily could manage to sit on a broom without sliding off, she imagined that the pair playing Quidditch wouldn't fare any better.

"Maybe I could tag along.. be your second if he challenges you to a duel." Sarah waggled her eyebrows, eyeing Lily's piece of pumpkin pie hungrily.

"Unneccessary, though appreciated all the same," Lily replied, slightly happier as she pushed the pie in the direction of her friend. "And I suppose I should go," she said, chancing a look at her wrist watch. "Wish me luck?" she asked, getting up from the table's bench.

"Gew' lack," said Sarah, for her mouth was full of pie.

---

"You're two minutes late."

"Miss me that much, Malfoy?" questioned Lily dryly, folding her arms across her chest as she observed Hagrid pushing up a great tree, while tiny Professor Flitwick charmed some baubles to take residence upon its branches.

"Well, I just figured that since we're Head Boy and Girl, that we should share the work equally. I mean, is it fair for me to be expected to do every-"

He was cut off by an angry glare from Lily. "You do all the work? Merlin's beard, if that isn't a slight exageration. I recall last Tuesday doing the rounds alone because someone was giving his latest girlfriend a tour of the broom closet!" Her pale face reddened angrily as she flung a curl over her shoulder.

He grinned, enjoying her temper. "If you're jealous of Melissa I can certainly.."

"Shut up," she seethed, watching Brian (Nate's younger brother) who was a fifth year prefect, usher a group of curious first-years away from the tree.

"Have I touched a nerve?" he asked, feigning concern as he moved closer, draping an arm around her shoulder. "Because I seem to recall that you've never had a boyfriend, isn't that true?" His tone adopted an infuriating coo, which sent Lily off the deep end. Shrugging off his arm, she ventured towards Brian, who seemed alarmed at her expression even though she was attempting to smile happily.

"How're you, Brian?" she asked, ignoring the snickers coming from behind.

"Frightened," he replied truthfully.

A/N - Short and sweet. It'll get more exciting too, I promise. Next chapter is James' too, if you've missed him. =D Review.

The Gryffindor Common Room was surprisingly crowded as James stepped over a pair of first years who had sprawled themselves across the ground, the game Exploding Snap occupying their minds. He chuckled to himself, striding over towards the message board that took over half of the west wall, papers advertising all sorts of things, such as lost possessions, or invites to a club who's popularity would last for approximately a week.

Shaking his head, James let his eyes wander across the cork board, looking for an unoccupied space. Finding nothing, he offered a shrug, and tacked up his own poster with no regard for the others. It wasn't his problem that his was so unneccessarily large.

His poster advertised the most important activity in all of Hogwarts (and to be fair, the Wizarding Community). Having been named Captain this year, it was his job to try to fill the newly vacated positon of Beater. He had been sorry to hear Darren Spencer, his team-mate, being forcibly removed from the team due to an over-protective step-mother. Spencer had come to him with the news, tears formed in the corner of his eyes. It was a sad, sad thing, being denied the right of Quidditch.

Brushing off his hands on his pants, he observed the poster. It was bright and flashy, sporting red and gold appropriately. He had had a fourth year girl make it. Her best friend, Karen something-or-other, had approached him, weilding a story of this shy, very talented artist. Hesitantly, he had followed the fourth year's advice, and had not been dissapointed with what had been given to him.

The sound of footsteps coming up behind him pulled him from his reverie. He turned to see Nate striding over, a jubliant grin lifting the corners of his mouth. Behind him followed his younger brother, Brian, looking slightly harrassed; his usually pale complexion a bright scarlet.

"What happened to him?" James questioned, folding his arms across his chest while mirth flickered obviously in his emerald eyes.

Brian looked to the floor, muttering something about 'saying the wrong thing.. Lily..', before heading off in the opposite direction towards his fellow fifth years.

"Lily took a bite from him, then?" he asked, turning his attention to Nate, who was observing the shining poster imposing the board.

"So I'm thinking," he responded, before waving at the sign. "What's this about replacing our Beater? Has Spencer or Moonwater been in an accident?"

James placed an arm around Nate's shoulders, leading him away from the message board. Nate was every bit involved in anything James did when it came to Quidditch. He, like his father had, Ron Weasley, took the position of Keeper. From what he knew, James knew that the position of Captain had been between them and had been a large struggle to decide who deserved the position. In fact, James felt a little sorry for Nate, as he had been Gryffindor prefect along with Lily, (something James had absolutely no desire to be, not that the idea of him being prefect had ever been entertained) but had been denied the right of Head Boy. Honestly, he didn't know where McGonagall got off, giving the title to Malfoy. Perhaps for the drama with Lily, as they certainly were a comical pair.

"Mr. Spencer, Darren's father, as you know, has recently re-married to a very young, very voluptuous, very simple-minded woman. It seems someone has fed her the idea that playing Quidditch could be dangerous." He shook his head, falling into an over-stuffed armchair near the fire.

Nate fell into an opposite couch, spreading his long limbs out. "And we need a replacement," he followed.

"A Beater replacement," agreed James.

"In December."

"Quite so."

"Bloody hell. You know tryouts are going to be horrible," said Nate irritably, rubbing at his eyes as he leaned into the cushion. "Every idiot with a broom will show up, and the likeliness that we'll find someone decent.. and Spencer being as incrediable as he is.."

Nate paused, finishing with a, "Damn."

"Damn," James agreed.

---

Tryouts were just as Nate had predicted. The weather was completely foul - a mixture of ice, snow, and rain falling at unexpected intervals. Nearly all of the Gryffindor common room had shown up, all different sizes,shapes, and colours, and none of them nearly good enough.

James had sent two of his Chasers to the skies, flying around rather slowly by now, heavy with water. The third Chaser, himself, stood down on the pitch with Nate and the rest of the team. One after the other, he sent one of the eager participants up with a bludger and bat, and looked on at some of the damage they could do.

Smithers, the over-zealous disaster, was flying without any regard for the others, and nearly allowed the bludger to hit himself. After a few more moments of struggling, he dropped his bat, and it fell to the ground with a wet 'thump'.

Tweak! Tweak! Tweak!

James attempted to gain everyones attention, waving his hands in the air before finally blowing into the whistle around his neck. The roar finally depleted, many eyes turning to face him. James grimaced, looking over to Nate who held a clipboard in his hands. His friend looked far too skeptical.

"That it?" James questioned.

"That's it," he replied wearily.

James finally turned his attention to the soakened crowd, eyeing them apprehensively. Behind his turned back, he could hear the giggles of some of the seventh year girls, and the consistant sighs of Darren Spencer.

"All right, you lot!" he called, ripping the clipboard from the hands of his Co-Captain. "We've seen what you got. The team will converse later this evening, and we will base our decision on attitude, chemistry, and.. (he sighed) talent. Our choice shall be informed by tomorrow's breakfast."

One by one, the students that had shown up headed towards the changing room, their sodden robes clinging uncomfortably. James' team followed, save for Nate and Astrid Wood who stayed loyally by his side. Nate looked depressed, and ready to cry. Astrid, on the other hand, looked furious.

"Potter," she seethed, glaring up at him with her sandy curls plastered to her face. "You can't honestly let one of those gits join the team. They're all awful!"

James eyed the girl. She was fourteen, and perhaps the most dedicated Quidditch player he had every stumbled across. She, like her mother, Katie Bell, was a Chaser, though he had heard rumours that her father had pushed her towards Keeper, until he realised how well Nate did with the hoops. Like her parents, she was stunningly good at the sport. (For a girl, at least).

"We'll talk about it in the common room." His voice was dull and disappointed, and it seemed to infuriate Astrid all the more. With a huff, she spun on her heel and stomped through the mud purposely, heading towards the changing room. Nate, after sending James an apologetic glance, turned to follow as well, his head low.

With the mud up to his shins, James stood, thinking about how this day couldn't possibly get any worse.

"Hello, James," came a simpering voice from behind.


He turned to face Darla LaFolle. One of the gigglers.

The Transfiguration room was at a low buzz, all the students bent over their parchments while quills scratched with purpose. Those who dared to whisper to their neighbours were almost instantly hushed by the beady eye of the professor, standing with importance at the front of the room.

Professor Angus McEwen was an aging Scotsman standing at an intimidating 6,3". While he had nothing on Hagrid, it was the way he looked at you that left you with an impression of insignificance. He was almost always grumpy, but was fair in his grading. However, any misbehavior in his class, no matter how mild, was treated with a week's worth of detention.

At the front of the class, Lily stared uncharacteristically out the window, traced with frost with snow resting upon its sill. Before she realised what was happening, the side of her head with hit with a piece of parchment. Instantly, thinking it from either James or Nate, she ripped into it, glancing to the unfamilar cursive.

Potter,

You weren't at breakfast. Trying to catch up on your beauty sleep? It'll take longer than an extra hour, I'll assure you.

You'll be disappointed to know that McGonagall called the Heads to her table this morning. Since you were unavailable, it was only me. (Slytherin was awarded five points for this, did you notice?) The point is, she's noticed some slack in some of the student's grades. Her theory is, with Christmas fast approaching, everyone's turned to the holiday rather than their papers. She's eager to set up a tutoring session, with us, naturally, being the tutors.

Seems we'll be spending more time together than initially made out.

The note was unsigned, but it did not take a genius to figure who sent it. Peering over her shoulder, she took the time to glare at Atticus, who was watching her with interest. When he grinned and wiggled his fingers in a mocking greetings gesture, she felt a flush rise up her neck and settle into her cheeks. He was so completely infuriating! Whether it was his business or not, Lily had skived off breakfast so that she could go to the Library before classes. Due to her daydreaming in Charms the previous day, she had to finish up her essay that had so stupidly been ignored. It was hasty, and not as well done as usual, but it would earn her at least a decent pass.

With bitter humour, Lily thought if she continued being distracted in her classes, it would not be too long until Atticus was tutoring her, and wouldn't that just be a ball?

With a sigh, Lily quickly whipped around to face the board at the front of the room. She found that her place in the notes had been erased to make room for additional information. She gasped audibly, afraid to fall behind in any more classes, and glanced desperately to Sarah's paper to find what she lacked.

Sarah looked up in surprise, blushed, and quickly made to cover the parchment. It was this action more than anything else that brought Lily's attention to the drawn heart in the corner of the paper, bearing initials Lily just couldn't make out.

---

It was at lunch in the Great Hall when Lily noticed two very peculiar things that formed an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The first was that Sarah was saying very little to her, and hadn't since Transfiguration that morning. When Lily had questioned about the initials on the paper, her friend either changed the subject or treated Lily with the idea that there was no such thing, and that she had merely been mistaken. When Lily asked if she could see the paper anyway, so that she could copy Sarah's notes, Sarah in turn replied that her notes were most likely wrong and that she would be better off to borrow James' or Nate's.

So Lily had done as suggested, and approached James. He had grinned up at her, and slid down the bench, which Lily took to believe was meant for her. However, as soon as she had made a move to sit beside her brother, she was shunted aside by Darla LaFolle, who quickly took the position for herself.

"Good afternoon, Lily," the girl had greeted with every indication that this afternoon was not good at all, and this was because of Lily.

With a raised eyebrow, Lily responded the same, and held her hand out as James placed his parchment in it. His notes looked legible, so Lily thanked him and was about to turn around when the second peculiar thing occured.

Darla, with no regard for any watching professors, leaned over and kissed James on his lips, which he happily accepted.

Nate looked unalarmed and continued to eat, but Lily was taken aback, and pointed her finger at the pair while colour filled her cheeks.

"You're.. you're.. James! There's a girl on your lips!"

Around them people erupted into laughter. The sound, which barely registered to Lily, was coming not only from the Gryffindor table, but from Ravenclaw's, Hufflepuff's, and Slytherin's as well. Whispers ventured around soon after, and many curious looks were sent to the trio's direction. It was an odd reaction come from calm and collected Lily Potter, as James had had girlfriends before.

'But,' thought Lily, now glancing around with a startled expression. 'It had never been Darla LaFolle before!'

"Oh, that's right," said Lily's female enemy, who seemed to have disconnected her liplock with Lily's brother. "You've never been in a relationship before, have you Lily? This must be so difficult for you." The statement was dripping with amusement and cruel satisfaction, and Lily was disappointed to remember Atticus had said something along the same lines the day before.

And before she knew it, Lily had grabbed James' arm and pulled him from the Great Hall and into the corridor. When they were finally alone, she turned to face him, her features lined with anger.

"You're kissing LaFolle?" she exclaimed, feeling her blood boil as James merely regarded her with crossed arms and his face adorned with an amused expression.

"Dating her, actually."

"Well, how could you! You know I hate her, you know she's driven me up the wall since our first year! You know that we argue almost daily, and that she's condescending, rude, and completely ignorant. I can't believe you'd do this to me! I'd be more satisfied if you were dating Malfoy!"

Sure that she was finished, James finally opened his mouth, anger stiffening his movements. "It's always about you, isn't it Lily? It's obvious that you're dismally picky, because Darla was right when she said you've never been in a relationship. The only boys you associate yourself with is myself and Nate, and that's because you've known us your whole life and wouldn't get away with it if you ignored us. You're making nothing into a huge, gigantic, big deal, because you always do that! You always over-react."

"I do not always over-react. I react to things in a proper proportion," Lily huffed, hands placed dangerously upon her hips. "This is huge. You've never showed an interest in Darla before. In fact, you were nearly as distasteful of her as I was, up until fifth year, and I don't think I need to delve into why that may be."

"If you're suggesting it's merely physical then-"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting!" Lily interrupted. "What else could it be? Her intelligence? Her humour? Darla is an air-headed dolt! She sits in the Common Room, batting her eyelashes and giggling, fawning over the boys in Witch Weekly while the rest of us strive to get good grades and plan strategies for sports! Others meet to play chess, an intellectual hobby I should add, while she questions her girlfriends over what shade of nail polish will bring out the colour of her eyes! She's a horrible candidate for a girlfriend!"

"I don't like you telling me what to do and who to be with," spoke James between clenched teeth, his hands in fists at his side.

"I'm not trying to be the boss of you! I'm looking out for you! For Merlin's sake, we're not only brother and sister, we're twins. I would think you'd like my opinion on things like this."

"Well I don't," snarled James. "And maybe I wouldn't like to be your twin brother either, at least not while you're like this."

And then Lily was alone in the corridor, breathing hard as she watched the back of her brother, until it disappeared behind the large oak door.

---

For the rest of the day, Lily barely managed to get through her classes with a steady mind. Her arguement with James was now the newest gossip floating around the school, and she was getting very many sympathetic glances sent her way. More disturbing were the angered ones coming from Darla and her girlfriends, though she hadn't seen either a trace of James or Nate.

The one good thing coming from the arguement was that Sarah was talking to her again, and was comforting when she did so. The blonde called Darla every foul name in her vocabulary, and assured her that James would get over the arguement sooner than she thought.

But later that night, Lily excused herself to bed much earlier than usual, and was undressing when she noticed a crumpled paper in the otherwise empty wastebasket beside Sarah's bedtable. With a strong urge of curiosity egging her on, Lily found herself picking the wad up and unfolding it.

It was Sarah's Transfiguration notes, which struck Lily as odd, as they were supposed to hold onto them and study for an upcoming test, not to mention N.E.W.T.s. After skimming her friend's writing for a moment, she noticed the heart in the corner for the second time, and was able to finally read the initials that had been hidden from her earlier that day. She finally understood why Sarah had been so protective of her paper, and the red-head felt her heart fall to the bottom of her stomach.

And this was because, in the neatly drawn heart, were the initials J.S.P.

James Sirius Potter.

A/N: Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! =D

James glanced around the Library, noticing it's rather full appearance. This wasn't surprising for a Sunday afternoon, however. Nearly everyone procrastinated their work until the last possible day during the weekend. James tried to do his homework on Saturday, not too early to be called a swot, but not too late that he'd be sweating it out.

But now, he was sweating it out. He had eight inches of parchment due for Professor McEwen, and he'd hate to be the one to make the infamously grumpy man even more ill-tempered. Still, leaving his essay until Sunday provided the absolute guarantee of avoiding Lily. She'd never leave her work until today.

Weaving throughout the tables, James searched for an unoccupied seat. Nate had offered to come with him, but he had done his work earlier, and the chances of them finding two seats together were nearly as impossible as seeing McEwen and McGonagall in a passionate embrace.

James shuddered at the thought.

Darla had pleaded to come with, but the likliness of her allowing him to complete his assignment without distraction was equally improbable. And to be truthful, nearly three weeks of this stiffling relationship (and the absence of his sister, he reluctantly admitted) was taking it's toll on James.

Finally, Hope showed her pretty little face to him. Three third year Hufflepuffs left a table in the farthest corner, leaving only one occupant left.

"Well, well," James said, grinning as he took one of the seats left behind. "If it isn't Miss Sarah Kenmore. Tutoring, I suppose?" He couldn't imagine the departed thirteen year olds were particularily close friends.

The blonde looked up, and James was charmed to see the faintest blush grace her cheeks.

"Afternoon, Potter," she returned, putting away a few extra quills. "But you should know I'm not supposed to speak with you - my duty as your sister's best friend." However, she made no move for departure, or give way that she wanted him to leave, so he settled himself rather comfortably.

"It's been three weeks, Sarah."

"You know as well as I do, James, that Lily can certainly hold a grudge far past three mere weeks. I do believe she's had a lasting one with Malfoy."

"And Darla," he replied, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Yes," Sarah mumbled, not meeting his eyes completely. "How is that going, by the way?"

She seemed ever so slightly heartened by his hesitation, but cocked her head to the left as friendly curiosity manipulated her features.

"It's been going..." The words were difficult to place.

"Going... going... gone?" she asked, offering to him a rather cheeky smile.

"That's rather accurate," he said, a grin splitting his face. "How'd you know?"

"Darla's.. overwhelming," Sarah said, "at best."

He nodded. "I'm breaking it off."

She raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you're braver than I thought, Potter."

James couldn't help it, he laughed heartily, earning himself a few glares and many hisses, all easily reading 'Shut up!'

"You don't think I will?" he challenged, leaning towards her, his elbows resting upon the darkened wood.

She shifted forward as well, a dangerous look crossing her blue eyes. "I don't think you can. It's best not to under-estimate Miss Darla LaFolle."

A silence descended upon the pair, and anyone who would've glanced at the pair would've noted a certain tension. But no one did glance over. The scratching of quills and a few whispers were the only sounds in the cavernous room.

"Sarah?" James asked after a bit.

"Hm?" she questioned, her eyes back on the text placed infront of her.

"Would you mind terribly if I kissed you right now?"

Her eyes, no longer glued to the weathered pages, snapped back to his.

"I don't know, Potter," she replied, reluctance evident in her tone.

Slowly, James moved closer, brushing his lips across her's, ready to pull back if the sign was there.

But Sarah didn't pull back. Instead, she sighed and mumbled across his lips. "I'm still not supposed to talk to you, you know."

And James broke out into laughter for the second time.

---

It wasn't until after dinner in the Common Room that James finally managed to steer Darla from her giggling crew of girlfriends. Slowly, he led her towards a secluded corner in the back, and he magicked a pair of chairs there in which he and Darla settled themselves into.

Darla, obviously under the influence that there wouldn't be much speaking going on, applied a fresh layer of lipgloss.

"No, no, no," said James, waving his hands and looking quite flustered. "I actually have something quite important to say to you. Not, er.. no. Not that."

Looking mildly surprised, Darla pocketed the gloss, crossed her legs, and settled her attention on her boyfriend. "All right, then. Spit it out."

James coughed nervously into his hand, avoided her gaze, and gripped the arms of the chair rather forcefully.

"Oh no," she said, her tone venomous. "No. You're not dumping me. It doesn't work like that."

First he looked surprised, then somewhat angered. "Excuse me?"

"No," she repeated. "I'm the most popular girl in Gryffindor. In school, and you're the Quidditch Captain. We're supposed to be together. It's expected."

"I find it's not nearly as convenient for me as it is for you. I'm awfully sorry, but it's what I want."

"You pig!" Darla seethed, standing up, her robes swishing ominously around her ankles. "You liar. You insufferable, selfish boy. I can't believe this! I've given you the best years of my life!"

"Darla, it's been three weeks. Hardly anything resembling a year." James' face had adopted a rather dark shade of red as he glanced around them. Nearly everyone in the Common Room was looking their way, especially Sarah, who, unlike the other's, was looking highly pleased by the events. She winked at him before James bothered to turn his attention back to the purple-faced Darla.

"You. Will. Be. Sorry. Don't doubt that!"

And with that, Darla whipped away from him, heading towards the stairs that led to the Girls Dormitory. Her gang of girlfriends followed, tears dripping from their eyes as they had just witnessed the breaking of the relationship.

They all passed Lily on the stairway, who was struggling with about four texts. Her eyes grew wide and dark as Darla breezed past her, snarling "Get out of my way", before disappearing with a bang behind a large oak door.

"What," she breathed, turning to James for the first time in weeks, "was that all about?"

"I may have just broken up with Darla," he answered easily, smiling and taking her texts from her hands, placing them upon a nearby table as he enveloped his twin in an apologetic hug. "So sorry. You know."

Lily laughed lightly, patting his back, and smiled to Sarah as she approached the pair.

"You're allowed to speak to James now, Sarah. He's been forgiven."

Lily, observant as ever, noted the tinged cheeks of her best friend, and remembered the information she had recently obtained. Sarah liked James. She'd have to keep that in mind when around the pair. Sarah would never forgive her if she betrayed her secret, and Sarah wasn't even aware yet that Lily knew this secret.

Both James and Sarah opened their mouth, looking quite embarassed, before the second disruption of the day occured.

The Portrait Door opened, revealing a very concerned Headmaster. McGonagall swept towards Lily, wringing her hands before she reached the trio. "Miss Potter," she greeted, looking towards both Sarah and James, who looked curiously relieved by the interruption. "There's a bit of a situation. I need you and Mr. Malfoy to meet me in my office as soon as you can get there."

Lily stood somewhat straighter, her expression more serious. "What's happened, Professor?"

McGonagall released a sigh, shaking her head. "There's been a disappearance. A first year has been taken from the school grounds."

Lily rushed towards the Headmaster's office, her mary-janes slapping across the stone floor in loud, ominious echoes. Despite her bulky robes, Lily felt lightly chilled, and rubbed at her arms to soothe the goosebumps bubbling upon her skin. She ignored the inquisitive looks sent to her from the portraits, some who had left their original frames so they could accompany their neighbour's. "Views," they said. "Lovely scenery." Lily wasn't fooled. They just wanted something to gossip about.

She was on her own. James and Sarah had been furious that they weren't allowed to accompany their friend or sister, depending upon situation, to the office, but McGonagall had been adamant. This was between the staff and the Prefects. Meanwhile, McGonagall had warned, keep an eye out. Be cautious. Viligant.

Lily was forcibly reminded of Alastor Moody. A nervous giggle erupted over the thought.

Surprised, she clamped a hand firmly across her mouth, shaking her head as she did so. 'Stay with me, Lily,' she scolded herself. 'Keep a firm head, now.'

Coming to the two gargoyles she was quite familar with, Lily squared her shoulders, caught her breath, and announced, "Teary Phoenix."

After a moment of consideration, a spiral staircase was revealed, spinning, and the Head Girl stepped daringly forward, rising until she was out of sight of the whispering and solemn gargoyles.

---

Horribly uncomfortable, Lily shifted in her seat while modestly patting at her skirt and keeping her eyes to the ground. It was a curious thing, being watched by so many people. Usually they were chatting or pretending to sleep (so they might catch something tasty, of course), but today they were blunt in their approach, sitting in their settees or whatever they happened to be painted on, with folded hands and pursed lips. The past Headmasters and Headmistresses weren't speaking, but their silence spoke volumes.

The sounds of stone turning caught Lily's nervous ears, and she whirled around to face the door. She was expecting McGonagall, or another Professor at the least, but instead, with slight disappointment, it was Atticus Malfoy who stepped forward and took the seat next to her's.

There was no biting comment, no gloating or sarcastic retort. More disturbingly, Lily realised, was that he was keeping to himself. His narrowed eyes were focused on the empty desk before them.

She cleared her throat. No responce. Louder. Nothing. Frustrated, she gave an exaggerated cough into her fist.

"Need a cough drop, Potter?"

She smiled, then quickly realised her expression and scowled unattractively instead. She paused heavily before asking, "What did McGonagall tell you, Malfoy?"

He shifted in his seat, then turned to face her. "She said a first year student had been taken off the grounds. That was it before she darted off to find Professor Sprout and Professor McGee."

"Ah," she replied, ever so winningly, before falling into silence once again.

"What did she say to you?" he asked easily, leaning into the cushions of his seat.

"The same. Exactly."

"What do you think happened?" Atticus asked, concern creasing his features. It was surprising to see such an expression on a boy who was either smirking or leering.

"Honestly?" He nodded. "I have no idea. I didn't think it was possible, really. I mean, the security in Hogwarts is fascinating, with very few flaws.. I can't ever think of an incident which-"

"Shut up, Potter," he interrupted easily.

Lily sighed, "All right. I know I'm babbling. It's just terrible to think of. We don't know what 'taken' means. A wizard? A creature? She might've informed us before she darted off."

Atticus shrugged, looking curiously towards the many portraits lining the walls.

Suddenly, the sound of stone grinding sounded once again, and McGonagall breezed in. She was followed by Professor McGee, the Gryffindor Head, Professor Sprout, the Hufflepuff Head, Professor Kline, the Slytherin Head, and lastly by a very elderly, struggling Professor Flitwick, Ravenclaw's Head.

The professor's all magicked chairs for themselves, and settled down, their attention upon McGonagall, who was behind her compulsively organized desk.

"We'll begin," she started, standing up and reading the faces. "When the rest of our guests arrive."

The adults immediately turned their heads towards the fireplace, so Atticus and Lily did as well, exchanging glances of incomprehension before doing so.

Suddenly, the mantle flared green, and two figures stepped out. They were Nate's parents, Ron and Hermione Weasley. They greeted the adults by shaking hands and whispering faintly. Hermione gave Lily a hug when she was noticed, and Ron rewarded Atticus with a suspicious and untrusting glare.

Again, the mantle fired up, and a tired, worn-looking Remus Lupin appeared from it, followed by the eccentric witch, Head Auror Tonks. Again, Lily was treated with two hugs, and again, Atticus, with glares.

Neville Longbottom and his wife, Luna, emerged from the fireplace ten minutes later. And five minutes following, Lily's parents followed. Harry and Ginny Potter greeted their old friends and Professors before Lily found herself sniffling when enveloped in the arms of her father, and finally, all eyes were turned to McGonagall, who cleared her throat while motioning for everyone to take a seat.

The room was full, but it was of course enchanted to give plenty of space to everyone.

"This morning," McGonagall began, her face white. "I was greeted by two hysterical young girls from Ravenclaw. They informed me that they, along with their best friend Melanie Trumpett, were approached by a cloaked figure who appeared to have came from the Forbidden Forest. These two girls tried to persuade their friend to come along with them, as they were cautious of the stranger, but they said that Ms. Trumpett was answering oddly. She didn't look the same, and her eyes looked "funny". Before they knew it, the stranger pressed a piece of paper into one of these girls' hands, and disappeared into the forest once again. However, Ms. Trumpett followed her, seemingly willingly, despite her friends' warnings not to."

McGongall took a deep breath, searching the faces of these adults, along with Lily's and Atticus'. "The girls were too terrified of the forest to follow after Melanie, and for this I'm grateful, because we could've lost them as well."

Ron Weasley took this time to warily raise his hand, as if he was still a student, and McGonagall still his professor. "Ah," he began, "this paper that you mention?"

The adults murmured their agreement, and Lily leaned forward expectedly as McGonagall unfolded the small and tattered piece of parchment.

Heaving a sigh, McGonagall begain to read:
"Four babes of innocence, led away
To His hands of which they'd stay.
Each one with difference, and not the same.
Their blood their death, and with it came,
A knife dug in, and blood is drawn,
Body weak and life is gone.
One of sense, next, ambitious,
Of noble heart and last was gracious.
Followers keen to bring existance
To their Lord, of which great distance
They would go, to bring back bane.
The Greatest Darkness ever 'gain."

The letter was read as a poem, and silence befell the room as "'gain" was finally dropped. Even the fire, once so cackling, seemed fainter to Lily's ears.

"Do you mean that whoever this figure was, plans to kill this little girl, along with three others?" Ginny Potter demanded, emotion cracking her voice.

"I'm afraid this seems the case," McGonagall answered reluctantly. "Of couse, we will do our best to keep this from happening. I've Owled the Ministry for extra precaution, along with Ms. Trumpett's parents, who must be informed."

The adults looked sadly around the room, avoiding each other's eyes. Many of them had children, and one by one, Lily could see each parent shudder while beginning to think that it could've been their child stolen and undoubtedly harmed.

"The Prefects will be assigned more rounds, as well," continued McGonagall. "And first years and second years will not go anywhere without a professor as their escort. I guarantee you that Hogwarts will attempt to keep this from happening ever again, and I hope the Ministry takes action in finding this little girl."

They talked for another hour, Lily offering her input very little. She was still startled by this turn of events, and by looking to Atticus, she sensed he was feeling the same way.

Slowly, one by one the couples left the office, continuing their conversation with shaking heads. Lily took longer than neccessary saying goodbye to her family, and was nearly in tears by the time she left as well, spinning down the stairwell slowly.

Exitting the doorway, Lily raised a hand to say goodbye to the stone gargoyles, nearly jumping out of her skin as a shadow seperated from the black.

"You startled me!" she yelled, her face growing red as she observed the growing smirk on Atticus' face.

He seemed cheered at this, but the smirk disappeared slowly, and he raised an eyebrow. "Have you been crying?"

Lily raised a hand to her eyes, feeling slight dampness, but shook her head. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"It looks like it," he said, leaning forward to peer into her face. He was closer than neccessary, and Lily could feel his warm breath on her face. She took a step back. He smirked cheekily at her retreat, "Your eyes are red and puffy."

She felt her teeth grinding as she walked past him, muttering words beneath her breath that would cause a heart-attack to her grandmother.

Undeterred, Atticus matched her pace easily, hands stuffed into his pockets.

"What are you doing?" Lily demanded, realising he was following her when he didn't take the turn towards the dungeons.

He looked to her, as if surprised by her reaction. "I'm walking you to your Common Room, obviously. You think I'll let you wander the corridors by yourself after a girl has been taken from the school?"

Surprised by this confession, she paused, shaking her head. "Young girls. Innocent ones, the paper said."

He laughed loudly, causing her scowl to deepen. "Think you're corrupt, then? Not innocent?"

"I'm just saying," she gritted, "that I think I don't exactly fit the qualifications."

He shrugged again, swinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards the staircase. "Just to be safe than, right Potter? I'd lose my best competition if you were taken, wouldn't I? Always thinking of yourself."

She snorted dismissively, and in her haste, nearly forgot to shake his arm off her shoulders. His face adopted an expression of heart-wounding pain, and she laughed at him lightly.

A companionable silence befell the pair, as they took the steps, two by two, towards the West Tower. After five minutes, Lily spoke up once more.

"You know how McGonagall wants us to be especially watchful for the younger ones?"

"Yes," Atticus replied, thinking it over. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I just think.. I think the next child attempted to be taken will be from Slytherin. I just thought you should understand that."

He considered this, "Why not Hufflepuff or Gryffindor next?"

Lily recited, "One of sense, next, ambitious,
Of noble heart and last was gracious."

"If it goes in the order of the poem," she continued. "It would be, first, Ravenclaw, second, Slytherin, third, Gryffindor, and lastly, Hufflepuff."

He looked surprised, yet skeptical. "Did you memorize it? You heard it once!"

Smiling ever so secretly, Lily drew something from her pocket.

"Oooh," he looked quite impressed. "I suppose you're not as innocent as I once believed, Potter. Congratulations. That was a very Slytherin move you just made.

The tattered paper reflected the lantern light, illuminating her grin. "That must be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Malfoy."


A/N: So there it is! The lastest chapter! I'm interested to know what you think of the story so far.

Also, if you liked the poem, please let me know! I'm god awful at poetry - it's my weak point in English class - but I worked so hard on that and tried to make it sound best as I could.

Thanks for reading. =D