A brown barn owl flew low over Kynder Lane. As it passed number eight, it released the letter it held in its legs with practiced accuracy. The letter flew straight through the flap on the front door with a small clink.

---

Meanwhile, inside number eight, that innocent clinking noise had been the cause of chaos.

“One of you girls, get the mail,” said Mr. Evans without so much as looking up from his newspaper.

“I’m older. You have to get it,” Petunia said to her sister.

“I’m younger so you have to get it,” Lily shot back.

“You’re only two years younger.”

“And you’re only two years older!”

“Just get it!”

“No!”

“All right! All right! Petunia, pick a number between one and five,” their father sighed, tiring of their bickering.

“Four,” said Petunia.

Lily, who knew how to play the odds better than her sister, said, “Five.”

“Petunia, go get the mail. The number was two,” said Mr. Evans.

Petunia shoved her chair into the table and stomped moodily down the hall. A minute later, she plunked the mail in front of her father, took her lurid pink gossip magazine and disappeared behind it.

Lily’s parents both took a mixture of bills, junk mail, and catalogues, leaving only one envelope. Lily took it out of curiosity.

It was made of what appeared at first glance to be paper, until you realized that it was in fact parchment. Even more interesting was that it was addressed, in bottle green ink, to

Lily Evans, The Second Bedroom, Upstairs, Number Eight Kynder Lane, Newcastle.

Lily turned the envelope over to open it and saw that it was sealed with red wax. Funny, she thought. I didn’t know anyone did that anymore. She broke the seal and took out the two sheets of parchment inside. Lily began to read.

Dear Miss Evans,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

---

Five o’clock found Lily Evans flopped on her bed, having a silent, furious argument with herself.

I can’t be a witch!

Yeah I can!

No I can’t!

Then explain the letter.

The letter was a prank.

No it wasn’t!

Yeah it was!

No it wasn’t!

Prove it.

How?

Do some magic.

All right then.

Lily reached over and took an empty glass from her bedside table and wished it was full of water. Nothing happened. She sighed and conceded that her pessimistic side had been right.

“Oi! Freak! Dinner!”

Lily climbed halfheartedly down the stairs and listened to Katrina Evans telling Petunia off for having called Lily a freak.

“Well, she is a freak! She actually believed that she was a witch! Of all the�””

“Put a sock in it, Petunia,” Lily snapped irritably. To everyone’s shock, especially Lily’s, a dirty gym sock hurtled from a laundry pile into Petunia’s mouth. Her eyes widened in horror and she spat the sock out and ran from the room, screeching. Maybe I am a witch, she thought. Now back to that letter…

---

Sirius Black was awoken extremely early by a loud tapping noise on his window. His reaction was not what you would expect of someone that had been woken at such an ungodly hour. He leapt out of bed, ripped aside his curtains, and let the owl in. The handsome tawny animal held out his leg haughtily. Sirius untied the thick letter quickly and slit the seal.

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

“YES!” Sirius yelled at the top of his voice, forgetting exactly how ungodly early it was.

“SIRIUS BLACK, SHUT UP OR I’LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO SCREAM ABOUT!” yelled Mrs. Black’s voice. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Charming, Mum,” he called back.

Actually, his mother was part of the reason Sirius couldn’t wait to get to Hogwarts. At least there he wouldn’t be treated like a traitor because he didn’t think Muggle-borns were scum. Unlike most of his family, he didn’t engage in Muggle baiting, didn’t consider him above anyone else just because he happened to have pure blood, and would have considered it the deepest shame if he were in Slytherin House. He sat down at his writing desk and wrote a quick letter to his best friend.

Hey James,

I just got my letter, how about you? Who would’ve thought a nasty little blood traitor like me would ever get into “Salazar’s noble school”? Wish I could see Mum’s face when I get put in Gryffindor. What’s the money on a heart attack?

Haven’t seen you in ages! Want to meet in London to get our stuff in a week? That’s when I’ll be going. See you then (or on the train if you can’t make it).

Sirius

He folded it twice and gave it to his owl, Godric.

“Take this to James, okay?” Sirius said to the bird, who nipped him on the finger and flew out the still open window.

---

The rapping of an owl’s beak on his window came as a surprise to Peter Pettigrew. He put away the picture of a lion he was drawing and unlatched his window. The eagle owl that had caused the disturbance swooped through and landed on Peter’s desk. Peter untied the letter with trembling fingers. Is it what I think it is, he wondered. The Hogwarts crest jumped out at him and his heart began to beat a little faster.

Dear Mr. Pettigrew,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

Peter didn’t need to read any more. He was in. His dream for as long as he could remember had come true! After all those years of thinking he was a squib! He ran to wake his parents.

“Mum! Dad! Guess what!” he cried excitedly, shaking them awake.

“Wassamatter?” Mr. Pettigrew asked, still in a heavy stupor.

“Nothing’s the matter! I got into Hogwarts!” Peter exclaimed.

“That’s lovely, dear,” said his mother, who hadn’t even opened her eyes.

“I- GOT- IN- TO- HOG- WARTS!” Peter repeated, loudly and slowly. Suddenly both his parents were wide awake.

“Well done, Peter,” Michael Pettigrew said heartily, clapping his son on the back.

“Oh, that’s lovely, dear!” Sophie Pettigrew repeated, but this time she seemed to mean it a lot more.

“Can we go get my school things today?” Peter asked.

“Hold your hippogriffs, son!” Mr. Pettigrew laughed. “You’ve still got a month before school starts! Don’t you want to enjoy your vacation?”

“I’m ready for school to start, actually,” the boy answered.

“Oh believe me, when they start with the homework, you’ll be ready for it to end,” his father said with a knowing wink.

Peter went back to his room and took out the lion again. He sat staring into its eyes. The next time I work on this I’ll be a Gryffindor, he vowed, then closed the drawer on the proud face of the lion.

---

James Potter seriously debated letting the owl in. If it was another Howler from Auntie Georgiana that he would have to blow up…

Groaning, he realized that the owl would probably peck a hole in his window before long, so he let it in. To his surprise, there were two owls flying into his room. One he recognized as Godric, his best mate Sirius’s bird. The other he assumed had come from Hogwarts. He went for Sirius’s first.

Hey James,

I just got my letter, how about you? Who would’ve thought a nasty little blood traitor like me would ever get into “Salazar’s noble school”? Wish I could see Mum’s face when I get put in Gryffindor. What’s the money on a heart attack?

Haven’t seen you in ages! Want to meet in London to get our stuff in a week? That’s when I’ll be going. See you then (or on the train if you can’t make it).

Sirius

James laughed. He would have been willing to place several Galleons on Sirius’s mum having a heart attack. He wrote a hurried reply to Sirius and opened the other letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

James looked up from the letter, wearing his customary smug grin. He knew they couldn’t reject him. Not the great James Potter. That would have been downright scandalous. Besides, where else could you hex people, let off Dungbombs, and generally party all night? He could see it all: he and Sirius would be the most accomplished troublemakers ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts. He sighed longingly. Even though willing September first to come sooner wouldn’t make any difference whatsoever, he did anyway.

---

Remus Lupin’s parents woke him at a time so remarkably early that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how remarkably early it really was.

“Remus, we just got your letter!” said a jubilant Nancy Lupin. Remus rubbed his eyes, wondering how she could possibly be so energetic.

“What letter?” he asked stupidly.

His father rubbed his chin. “Well, it couldn’t be the one we’ve been trying to make sure you got for five years, could it? That would be way too obvious.”

Remus jerked out of his sleepy state. “You mean my Hogwarts letter? They accepted me?”

“See for yourself,” Mr. Lupin said, tossing a piece of parchment paper to his son.

Dear Mr. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

Remus looked at his father. “What about my…” he searched for words, “…lycanthropy?”

“Dumbledore knows,” said Mrs. Lupin. “He said he’s made arrangements for your transformations. Don’t let being a werewolf get in the way of enjoying school, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry,” Remus promised. “I won’t.”

He watched as his parents left the room and gently closed the door behind themselves. Excitement was building within him. I’m going to go to school. I’m going to make friends. I’m not going to let being a werewolf ruin that for me.

In that moment, he was not Remus Lupin the werewolf. He was Remus Lupin who in a short time would be going away to school and had every intention of crashing whatever party he might find there and of thoroughly enjoying himself while doing it. He was Remus Lupin the kid.

Ted, Katrina, and Lily Evans stood staring at the barrier between platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station. From their expressions, one would guess that they expected it to disappear under their gaze. To tell the truth, they half did.



“Er, Lily, do you know how exactly we’re supposed to get to this Platform Nine and Three Quarters?” Mr. Evans asked his daughter for about the twelfth time.



“No Dad, it didn’t say anything in the letter,” Lily explained for about the twelfth time.



Lily noticed that a couple with a child her age was standing some feet away, whispering and occasionally looking her way. She had barely enough time to take in that the two adults were a little elderly and the boy good looking, with untidy black hair, hazel eyes and glasses. The gentleman stepped up to her and said, with the air of one asking a password, “Who is Albus Dumbledore?”



Lily responded promptly. “Albus Dumbledore; Order of Merlin, First Class; Grand Sorcerer; Chief Warlock; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Why?”



All three of the people were taken aback, and Lily wondered if she had said the wrong thing. Then the boy’s father (or grandfather, or whoever he was) smiled broadly.



“Thought you might’ve been, from the way you were staring down the barrier. That’s not how you get through, you know.”



“Might’ve been what? Get through where? And who are you?” Lily asked, blushing at her rudeness. It was the boy who answered her questions while their parents moved off to talk.



“Get through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. We’re the Potters. I’m James, and these are my parents. And are you or are you not,” he arched one eyebrow without shifting his gaze at Lily, “a Muggle-born witch?”



“Yes, I am,” said Lily, not exactly sure if this was an insult. “Is there a problem with that?”



“Not to me, but I think you’ll find it’s not that way with some others,” James answered. “Well, it seems as if our parents are having a good time,” he said, raising his voice so that both sets of parents would be sure to hear, “as we miss the Hogwarts Express.”



Both mothers blushed and both fathers yelled, “You have fifteen minutes!” at the same time. Lily and James grinned at each other.



“Parents,” he sighed, “are ever so predictable.”



Lily couldn’t help but see the truth in this.



“So how do you get onto the platform?” she asked. James waggled a finger at her.



“That is a closely guarded secret. If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”



He laughed as Lily blanched. “Only joking. You just walk straight through the barrier and voila! You’re there!”



Doubt was etched in every feature of Lily’s face, which was as James thought, extraordinarily pretty.



“Seriously, that’s how you do it,” he assured her. “Watch and learn.”



He strode over to his parents (Lily couldn’t help but notice that his walk was a bit like a strut), and then led them over to the barrier. He winked at Lily before breaking into a run, pushing his trolley faster and faster…and then he was gone. He and his parents had vanished completely through, it could only be assumed, the barrier. Lily drew a deep breath and walked over to her parents.



“I’m going to have a go,” she said bravely. Her parents nodded and said perhaps they should stay where they were in case only witches and wizards could get through. Lily nodded, gritted her teeth and ran at the brick barrier (which, by the way, looked very solid). Just when she knew she was about to crash into the divider and was cursing herself for taking the advice of a boy she hardly knew, the station around her melted away and was replaced by a notably different station, one which had one platform, Nine and Three Quarters.



Her eyes widened as she saw hundreds of people in robes of varying colors milling around the train. The train itself was nice, as trains went. It was bright scarlet and shiny, with the words Hogwarts Express emblazoned on the side.



“Told you, didn’t I?” said James from right next to her. Lily hadn’t even noticed him. “D’you want to get a compartment with me? It’s best if you sit with someone, otherwise who knows who’ll come in.”



“And you think you can protect me from whoever attempts to come in?” Lily asked, smiling slightly.



“Oh yeah,” James said in an offhand way. “Come on, all the good ones will have gone if we don’t hurry.”



Although she never would have admitted it to James, Lily was happy to be included with the word we. She thought she may just have found her first friend at Hogwarts.

---

“Is it all right if a couple of my mates sit wit us?” James asked Lily anxiously. “Only I already promised them I’d sit with them…”



“It’s fine,” Lily said hurriedly. She pushed her thick red hair out of her eyes and surveyed the platform outside. After a few minutes of silence, the compartment door slid open.



“Hey, Sirius!” James greeted the boy standing in the door. But Sirius’s eyes did not even flick to his friend. They were fixed intently on Lily. A second passed and Sirius let out a low whistle.



“That’s Jamesie, first day of school and he already has a girl!”



James and Lily both blushed furiously. Sirius, apparently happy with his handiwork, sat down next to James and the two immediately began catching up. Lily didn’t pay attention to most of it, and it was only when James roared with laughter that she turned her attention to the boys.



“�”and then my mum, you know how she is, she drew herself up like this,” Sirius’s back immediately straightened as if a ramrod had taken the place of his spine and wrinkled his nose distastefully, “and she says, “ ‘Who has passed wind in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?’ And then Regulus and Andromeda and I all blame it on Kreacher at the same time�””



At this point, the hilarity of his story overcame Sirius and he succumbed to fits of laughter just like his friend. Occasionally he could choke out words like “dungbomb,” “Kreacher,” and “grounded.” Lily guessed that it would have been a highly amusing tale had she any knowledge of wizarding life. When James asked her how her summer had been, she replied, “All right, if you can say being called a freak by your own sister is all right.”



She then recounted the story of Petunia and the flying sock. The boys laughed just as hard as they had with Sirius’s dungbomb story.



“Inventive,” said Sirius after he regained control of his vocal cords. “Dirty socks, why didn’t we think of that?” he added to James, who shrugged and stared at Lily with new admiration.



“That sister of yours sounds like a right git,” James said more seriously. “Pity, pity.”



“What’s a pity?” Lily asked. James gave a theatrical sigh.



“That you can’t hex her until you’re seventeen,” he said regretfully.



“Why ever not?” Lily asked, looking crestfallen.



Sirius laughed. “Because you have to go to a nice big hearing about underage sorcery if you do,” he explained. Lily muttered a few choice words. Sirius whistled again.



“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said. “How’d you learn those?”



“I went to public school,” Lily answered, already embarrassed at her outburst. She explained to them what that was, and they seemed appalled that people would shove her into a locker simply because she would fit. She saw James lean over and whisper something in Sirius’s ear.



“Not yet,” Sirius replied. “We don’t even know her that well.”



Mystified, Lily was about to ask what they were talking about when the door to their compartment was opened yet again.



“Mind if my friend sits with us?” said a pale, sandy haired boy that James and Sirius obviously recognized.



“Not at all, mate, not at all,” James said grandly, squishing over a bit to make room.



“Thanks,” said a small, somewhat pudgy boy that Lily had just noticed. “I’m Peter Pettigrew.”



Peter sat beside the pale boy, who introduced himself as Remus Lupin.



“Right,” Sirius said, rubbing his hands together. “This train ride is long, and I’m not going to waste it. We have to focus.”



“Anything off the trolley, dears?”



Sirius appeared to be grappling with himself. Finally he gave in, buying enough Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, Chocolate Frogs, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans for the whole compartment. It was only after demolishing about half the supply that anyone remembered that they had a purpose. Sirius took from his trunk a list of classes, who taught them, and what made each of the teachers mad.



“My dear cousin Andromeda was kind enough to draw this list up for me,” Sirius said, flourishing the piece of parchment. “‘Teachers and What Makes the Tick’, a study of Hogwarts educators and the distraction methods that work best on them.” Sirius wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Kind of her, lending a hand to younger generations of troublemakers. Let’s see…

---

Time passes quickly when you’re plotting and eating sugary snacks, as the five of them soon found out. Before they knew it, the train had stopped and they were getting out.



“Firs’ years! Firs’ years, this way!” called a large man. Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter followed a mass of students their age to a small fleet of boats on the edge of a large lake.



“No more ’n four ter a boat,” the man instructed them, taking a boat all to himself. Lily left the boys and sat with three other girls in a different boat. No one spoke as the boat lurched forward of its own accord, moving noiselessly across the glassy surface of the water.



A short time later, the giant said, pointing at a shape rising in the distance, “There’s yer firs’ view o’ Hogwarts.”



Every one of the first years gasped. As they had moved closer, the shape had been defined as a breathtaking castle, complete with towers and turrets. Many large windows were lighted with flickering lights.



“It’s beautiful,” breathed a girl in Lily’s boat.



Lily agreed. She had never seen anything half so majestic as this in her life! Hogwarts looked more like an ancient palace than a school.



The miniature boats docked on the other side of the lake and their guide, who told them to call him Hagrid, led them up to the castle and into a huge hall.



“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid said to a strict looking lady in emerald robes.



“Thank you, Hagrid,” Professor McGonagall said in an authoritative tone. Hagrid nodded at her and shuffled out of the hall.



“You will soon be walking through those doors and get Sorted into one of four Houses,” she said without preamble once students had finished wringing water out of their robes and hair, “Ravenclaw�””



“A bunch of nerds,” Sirius muttered.



“�”Hufflepuff�””



“Well...'Dromeda makes it okay.”



“�”Gryffindor�””



“That’s me.”



“�”or Slytherin.”



“It’d make my mum happy. There goes that.”



“Points will be awarded to your House when you answer a question correctly, win a Quidditch match, or do something that pleases your teachers. Points will be deducted for any bad behavior. At the end of the year, the House with the most points wins the House Cup. I fully expect that each of you will be good additions to the student body and represent your Houses well. The Sorting Ceremony will begin now, please follow me.”



The first years walked after her through the double doors at the end of the room and into another, bigger, hall. Five long tables were arranged inside it; four for students and one for teachers. Professor McGonagall led them through the middle of the hall, past older students craning their necks to get a good look at “this year’s batch”, and up to a stool and an old, patched hat sitting in front of the staff table. When the new students were lined up in front of it, the hat did an extraordinary thing. A large rip near its brim widened, formed and unmistakable mouth, and it began to sing.

---

Lily kept staring at the hat even after it was done singing. She felt herself join in the tumultuous applause coming from the older witches and wizards, as if it was perfectly normal for a hat to sing. Professor McGonagall then took a place beside the stool.



“When I call your name, please come forward and place the hat on your head. Abercrombie, Stephen!”



A small boy stumbled forward and put the hat on. It was so big that it slipped over his nose, but he didn’t seem to care. The rip widened again, and…



“HUFFLEPUFF!”



Stephen Abercrombie took the hat off and tottered off to join his housemates, who were clapping enthusiastically.



“Albernathy, Rose!”



“RAVENCLAW!”



So it proceeded, nervous-looking boys and girls jammed on the hat and were divided into one of the four Houses.



“Black, Sirius!”



Sirius sauntered up to the hat and put it on at a jaunty angle. The hat deliberated with him longer than with anyone else. Finally, it roared:



“GRYFFINDOR!”



There was a shocked silence after this pronouncement, then a thundering of applause that Sirius acknowledged with a wave of his hand and a grin. The names and faces flew by, indistinguishable, until…



“Evans, Lily!”



Lily walked forward, concentrating all her efforts on not tripping or otherwise making a fool of herself. She fixed the hat over her fiery curls and jumped almost instantly. The hat had spoken!



“Ah,” it said. “You have a fine brain, quite a lot of bravery, and do I detect stubbornness? What could be right for you?”



“I want to be in Gryffindor,” thought Lily with all her strength.



“No need to shout, I’m right here in your head. I don’t suppose you’d like Slytherin?”



“Are you joking?” Lily asked the hat.



“Yes,” it admitted. “Better be GRYFFINDOR!”



Lily sighed in relief, took off the hat and joined her fellow Gryffindors.



“Well done!” Sirius told her, a sly grin on his face. “It’ll make plotting a lot easier if we’re all in Gryffindor. I’m not worried about James; his entire family’s been in Gryffindor for ages, but you and Remus and Peter I didn’t know about.”



“We’ll find a way even if they’re not,” she assured him. Sirius winked.



“You think the right way, Evans,” he said.



“Glad to hear it.”



She and Sirius paid attention only when they knew who was being Sorted. All the rest of the time, Sirius pointed out people he knew.



“That,” he said, his upper lip curling in a sneer, “is my cousin Bellatrix.”



Lily looked where Sirius was pointing and saw a Slytherin girl with heavily lidded eyes. She was very pretty, but in a sinister sort of way, and she somehow emanated evil, even though she was only in third year.



“Oh look, Remus is getting Sorted,” Lily said, pointing to the front. The hat hesitated on his head, but only for a moment.



“GRYFFINDOR!”



“Brilliant!” cried Sirius.



After Remus came Peter, who also joined the Gryffindors. James was next, and he had barely shoved the hat on his head before it yelled, “GRYFFINDOR!”



“That’s everyone important,” said Sirius as James sat down next to him and stared hungrily at his empty plate.



Soon the last person (Zephyr, Elizabeth!) had been Sorted (SLYTHERIN!), and Albus Dumbledore stood up.



“Oh, please, no,” James groaned, his stomach groaning with him. “Not a speech…”



Professor Dumbledore appeared to understand this mentality. “I know you will not understand a single word of my well prepared oration when your stomachs are making more noise than I am.”



“Hear, hear!” Sirius and James said together. Dumbledore winked at them.



“So without further ado, let us set to our excellent feast. Tuck in!”



At the words, the golden platters before them became full to bursting with food. The boys all exchanged looks, then without reservation began to shovel down as much food as they could reach. Lily spared a second to roll her eyes at them before doing likewise, but obviously with much less food.

---

That night, all the Gryffindor girls were too tired to introduce themselves, or talk at all, for that matter, so they made an unspoken agreement to do so in the morning.



Lily was the first one awake the next day, but as happens with sleepovers, the rest woke within minutes. Lily spoke first.



“Hi, I’m Lily Evans, I’m Muggle-born, and I have one older sister who is a downright git. Who’s next?”



“I am,” said a girl who had been in Lily’s boat. “I’m Arya Knightley, I’m half-blood and I have one younger brother named John that I love to tease.”



“Brilliant,” said a girl with curly blond hair, giving Arya an appreciative smile. “I’m Kathleen McFarley, I’m also Muggle-born, and I have three brothers, all older, all Muggles.”



A silence followed in which everyone turned to stare at the last girl. In a hoarse whisper, she said, “You want to know my name?”



“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Arya said.



“Know then that if you repeat it to anyone, I will hex you into obliviation.”



“I for one am not about to take that risk,” Lily said. “Let’s hear it.”



“My name,” the girl said, closing her eyes in horror, “is Prunaprismia McKinnon. But call me Mia, or else.”



“Who would name their kid that?” Kathleen asked, shaking her head. “It’s like abuse!”



“My parents thought it was a ‘nice, pure-blood name’,” Mia spat in disgust. “I ask you! Apparently after they took care of my birth certificate and stuff they realized that it was a horrible thing to do.”



All three of the other girls were at this point debating whether or not to say, “Sucks to be you!” No one said it.



“How about some breakfast?” Arya suggested. “And Lily, I saw you with some boys! Care to introduce us?”



“Sure,” Lily shrugged. “Least I can do.”



The mention of boys seemed to cheer Mia up. She played with her light brown hair for almost twenty minutes, before deciding it looked best down. Then the four of them walked down to the Great Hall, three of them thinking of how best to impress the boys, and one thinking of how best to prank History of Magic.

“Ready, steady, go!” Sirius whispered. At the signal, James’ hand shot into the air.



“Oh, yes Mr. Puddyer?” Binns asked absently.



James launched one of his famous teacher-distracting questions, leaving Lily free to do her part. She pointed her wand at Binns’ carefully arranged notes and said, “Wingardium Leviosa,” from behind her nonchalantly raised hand. The note cards hovered for a second, then flew straight into the blades of the overhead fan. The first year Gryffindors were then showered with what had once been descriptions of goblin rebellions. Binns noticed nothing. Sirius and James both gave Lily high fives under the table.



Binns finished answering James’ question and looked down to his desk, seeing for the first time that the cards were missing. The ghost teacher was convinced that he had misplaced them, and he began shifting piles of papers looking for them. It was only when a residual piece floated down onto his desk that Binns realized what happened.



“It seems as if someone is intent upon disrupting this lesson,” he said in his droning voice. “So we will sit in silence until the culprit confesses.”



Several people sitting around Lily who had seen her do it snuck sidelong glances at her. They saw an innocent-looking redhead, looking for all the world as if she were bored with the proceedings and just wanted someone to give it up, already. James and Sirius were proud of their new friend. Very proud, in fact…



“How would you like to be an honorary Marauder?” Sirius asked Lily on the way to Transfiguration.



“What’s a Marauder?” Lily replied, confused. James grimaced as though she had mortally offended him.



“A Marauder,” he said, “is one dedicated to the goals mentioned in the Marauder’s Pledge.”



“Which are?” Lily prompted.



“These. Repeat after me,” Sirius instructed. “I, Lily Evans�””



“I, Lily Evans�””



“�”do solemnly swear�””



“�”do solemnly swear�””



“�”to keep and uphold�””



“�”to keep and uphold�””



“�”the duties of the Marauders�””



“�”the duties of the Marauders�””



“�”that being to harass Slytherins�””



“�”that being to harass Slytherins,�””



“�”annoy teachers,�” ”



“�”annoy teachers,�” ”



“�”and distract lessons whenever the need arises�””



“�”and distract lessons whenever the need arises�””



“�”or whenever I get too bored.”



“�”or whenever I get too bored,” Lily finished. “What did I just agree to?”



“Good Merlin, Evans, we thought you were the smart one!” Sirius exclaimed. “You just agreed to harass Slytherins, annoy teachers, and distract lessons whenever the need arises or whenever you get too bored. I didn’t think the pledge was that hard to understand!”



“Go back to the bit about distracting lessons whenever I get too bored,” Lily said. “Will a single History of Magic class be safe?”



“I highly doubt it,” James answered.



“Excellent,” Lily said with a rather fiendish smile.



The Gryffindors entered the Transfiguration classroom and saw to their horror that they were having it with the Slytherins. Professor McGonagall (who they found out was the Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House in addition to being the deputy Headmistress) handed them each a match and instructed them to turn it into a needle. Lily stared at it. Then she pointed her wand at the match and said the spell Professor McGonagall taught them. Her match turned a shade grayer than it had been. Excited, she looked over at her friends and saw James attempting to stab Sirius with his perfectly transfigured needle. It only improved her mood slightly that the other girls were having no luck whatsoever.



Lily tried again. The match shuddered, elongated and became pointy. Lily was elated! She stabbed James and told him to stop trying to stab Sirius. He looked at her needle in amazement.



“I knew you were the smart one,” he told her, and for some unexplainable reason, that made her blush. He smiled hesitantly and fingered a lock of her hair.



“When you’re quite finished flirting with Miss Evans, I’ll see your progress on your needle,” McGonagall said, causing both of them to jump. James produced his finished needle, which she approved grudgingly. Lily handed hers to the professor next, realizing too late that there was still a bit of James’ blood on the tip. McGonagall didn’t say anything about it, but Lily could have sworn she saw the teacher wink at her.



“Charms is next,” James told the girls. “You’ll like that, it’s dead easy.”



And it was, at least for Lily. The first spell they learned was Wingardium Leviosa, the Hover Charm, and she astonished Professor Flitwick by doing it right the first try.



“Excellent, Miss Evans, simply excellent!” the tiny wizard exclaimed. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I would think you’d been practicing this!”



Lily conveniently forgot to mention the hours she’d spent mastering the spell in the common room. Flitwick moved on to aid Kathleen, who had set the feather she was supposed to be levitating on fire. Lily looked over at James and saw that he had also levitated a slip of parchment and was using the feather as a quill to pass notes with Sirius. Lily caught his eye, and then rolled both of hers at him. He shrugged and smiled sheepishly, before dipping the feather into the ink pot and resuming his conversation. Lily, determined to ignore him, struck up a conversation with Arya. Shortly, her friend pointed out a small paper airplane zooming toward Lily. On the wing was one word: Unfold. Lily did so. The small note read:



Evans,



Will you go out with me?



James



Lily stared at the page in shock. James wanted to go out with her?



“Well, he is good-looking,” Arya said, who had read the note over Lily’s shoulder. She ignored her. After pausing a moment, she scribbled:



No, Potter. I’m saving myself for someone who’s not hopelessly dim-witted.



L.E.



She sent the note back with a flick of her wand.



“Ouch,” Arya said, who had read that over her shoulder as well. “Did you have to be so brutal?”



“Yeah,” Lily replied. “I need for him to get the picture.”



“If he doesn’t get it, then he is hopelessly dim-witted.”

---

“D’you think she really means it?” James asked Sirius.



“Nah,” Sirius said lazily. “She’s just playing you, mate. She knows a boy wants what he can’t have.”



“You think so?” James said hopefully.



“Are you questioning my knowledge of girls?” Sirius asked his friend, raising an eyebrow.



“Of course not,” James said hurriedly. “So should I try again?”



“Not until at least next week,” Sirius advised him. “Just so you don’t seem too desperate.”



“Right you are,” James replied, and began to mentally draft what he would say to her.

October 30, 1972

Dear Diary,



James asked me out again today. Ho hum; no surprises there. He’s been doing that daily for about two months. How desperate could you get?



I got my first perfect score in History of Magic yesterday! It was really only because I stole Binns’ notes with magic again, but I’m still proud of myself. I shared them with the girls, and they did really well too! Stealing from Binns is becoming something of a habit…



Halloween is tomorrow. Sort of funny; if I hadn’t gotten my letter I might have gone as a witch! There’ve been rumours that Dumbledore booked dancing skeletons! I wonder what that’ll be like. I expect it’ll be a bit creepy.



All right, I’ve been trying to avoid this. I have no idea what to do about James. Not one. At all.



He’s cute, I’ll give him that, but he’s a bit too shallow for me. All the same, I hate the look he gets when I turn him down. He looks like all the happiness and hope has been sucked from his life. I don’t want to give him false hope by saying yes, though.



Writing this down doesn’t make it any easier to think about.



L.E.

---

I don’t aim high. I want only two things this year:



1. for Binns to actually get my name right, and

2. to go out with Lily Evans.



Good luck with that, mate.



That was Sirius, who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word privacy.



But then again, maybe he’s right for a change. Don’t go getting a swelled head over that, Sirius, I said maybe. Maybe just getting Evans to consider me will be an accomplishment sufficient enough for this year. Seeing how she calls me something along the lines of an overdeveloped flobberworm every time I try, that could take some doing. Remus reckons I should do something special for her, like buy her Chocolate Frogs or write her a poem. Only thing is, I’m flat broke and I suck at poetry.



This is just my luck. The prettiest girl in the school is in my year and my House, and I still can’t go out with her.

---

November 11, 1972

Dear Diary,



James has stopped pestering me; thank God! I did catch him staring at me about fifty times in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. It’s actually getting on my nerves. I think I actually preferred it when he asked me out every day. He hasn’t pranked any classes for about two weeks, and I think this new change is my fault. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss his self-confident smile and his arrogant strut. I miss the old James and I don’t know how to get him back.



I need to get off this topic.



But I don’t want to.



L.E.

---

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. Whatever I do and say is wrong, so I’ve stopped trying. But however much I want to, I can’t forget her.



Jeez, mate, you said you suck at poetry!



Shut up, Sirius! This is my journal; that’s why it says JAMES POTTER on the front!



Touchy.



ANYWAY…



I haven’t given up hope yet. Today in DADA she caught my eye and I swear she smiled at me.



I have yet to figure out the puzzle that is Lily Evans.

---

November 28, 1972

Dear Diary,



I’ve finally made a decision about James. Kat, Arya and Mia say it’s about time because if they had to watch him flirt with me for much longer, they would be sick and/or leave the country.



If he can prove that he really does love me and isn’t just chasing after me for something to do, I’ll go out with him. Plain and simple. Even Potter can’t misunderstand that! Actually, I wouldn’t put it past him…



Potter. He practically stalks me! Every day it’s the same:



“Will you go out with me, Evans? Please?”



I wouldn’t ever consider telling him, but every time he asks I come closer to saying yes. And not just to get him to stay off my case.



L.E.

---

I got rejected again. This happens so often that I have the script memorized.



Act I



James walks up to Lily, who is doing her homework. Not a smart choice of timing, really, because she’s sure to be cross.



James: “Evans?”



Lily: “What, Potter?”



James: “Will you go out with me?”



Lily: (pauses to think of a term offensive enough for the occasion) “In your dreams, you moronic son of a bowtruckle!”



James: “Please? Just consider me?”



Lily: (miniscule pause) “All right, I’ve considered. No.”



James walks away, distraught. Lily is congratulated by dorm mates.





That’s how it goes. The moronic-son-of-a-bowtruckle thing was yesterday’s retort. Last week I was a spawn of the giant squid. And on my first attempt I was hopelessly dim-witted. I wonder how this girl thinks of these!



She’s clever. And creative. And beautiful. And I wish she was mine.


A/N: No, James being a (rather terrible) playwright is not important to the plot. At all.

It had been a relatively calm night. Remus was away visiting his sick mother and the remaining Gryffindor boys sat in their dormitory. Sirius appeared to be deep in thought, something that didn’t ordinarily happen to him.

“Come on, Sirius!” James Potter taunted, messing up his hair with one hand. “Can’t you think of anything?”

The pressure got to Sirius, and it caused him to do something even he considered way below the belt.

“I dare you,” he said, eyes twinkling maliciously, “to snog Evans.”

Here came a silence so long and profound that you almost wouldn’t have thought there were Marauders in the room.

“No way,” James said, his mouth dropping open. “Absolutely no way.”

“What? Afraid she’ll hate you? Because I hate to break it to you, mate, but she already does.”

James punched his friend, but Sirius just laughed. Peter watched the scene with growing trepidation.

“But it’s Quidditch tomorrow!” James said, desperately clutching at straws. “It’ll ruin the game, a thing like that hanging over my head!”

“Look into my eyes,” Sirius said calmly. “Does it look like I care?”

It didn’t. James gave up.

“All right, but I’m telling her it’s a dare first,” said James with an air of finality. Sirius threw up his hands in disgust.

“Then what’s the point of the dare? Honestly, you’re just like Pettigrew!”

Peter was affronted.

“I never did something like that!”

“Only because no one ever dared you to snog your crush,” James assured him, shooting daggers at Sirius, who grinned and winked at him.

“Let me make one thing clear, Jamesie: You’re not allowed to tell her until after the kiss; that is, if she leaves enough air in you to speak. Good night,” Sirius added to the room at large, swinging his legs up onto the mattress and rolling over.

James would have groaned and lamented if he had thought anyone cared. As it was, he lay on his back, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

This is way too sudden, he thought. Sirius is wrecking my only chance with Evans. If she never talks to me again, I’m killing him.

---

Lily awoke to the chants of her fellow Gryffindor girls. It was a minute or so before she was able to discern what they were saying.

“Down with Slytherin! Gryffindor for the Cup! Down with Slytherin! Gryffindor for the Cup!”

Lily checked her watch that was lying on her bedside table and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was 7:02.

“What in Merlin’s name are you lot doing up this early?” Lily said irritably.

“Oh, this isn’t early,” Mia said brightly. “All the boys have been up since five decorating the common room.

Lily felt her initial annoyance at the rude awakening ebbing.

“Decorating it for what?” she asked curiously. Arya threw a pillow at her.

“For when we beat the crap out of Slytherin in the Quidditch final!” Kat cried jubilantly.

All of Lily’s roommates loved Quidditch. Arya and Mia had followed it their entire lives, and Kat had fallen into the sport so naturally that Lily was almost jealous. She herself couldn’t see the point of it, but she wasn’t about to tell them that (Especially not Arya, who had once hexed a fifth year Hufflepuff for saying that Pride of Portree were even worse than the Chudley Cannons. All the fur still hadn’t quite come off.) Lily did, however, enjoy the after parties, in which food from the kitchens would mysteriously crop up, and occasionally some she had never seen at the Hogwarts tables.

Still yawning for the earliness of the hour, Lily swung herself out of her four poster bed and got dressed. For a reason not even she knew, she spent extra time on her hair, twining it into a silky plait down her back. She looked at her reflection, deemed it passable, and headed down to the Great Hall for a spirited breakfast before the last Quidditch game.

---

James Potter had not slept all night. For the first few hours he had laid there in his bed, listening to the heavy breathing and snores of his fellow Marauders. Shortly after getting immensely bored of this, he snuck down to the common room and sat in his favorite chair beside the dwindling fire. Questions were chasing each other through his mind.

What am I going to do? How can I make this work? What if she hates me? What if I refuse to do it? What then?

James knew he couldn’t just back out, as much as he wanted to. It was an unwritten Marauder law that dares have to be carried out. Otherwise the one who chickened out would be the test subject of newly learned jinxes and curses until they did the dare. James had seen it happen. It wasn’t pretty.

By a quarter to five the rest of the first year Gryffindor boys had joined James in the common room and proceeded to cheer him up by discussing the menu for the party that afternoon (since they were sure to have one, since they were sure to win).

Then they woke up the older boys; a very brave thing to do considering that most teenage wizards hex people who wake them up before the crack of dawn is even thought of. Especially when those people are first years. Eventually, though, they got a sixth year boy to call off the giant flying bogies that were attacking Peter, and they started planning in earnest.

James and company were put in charge of the food and drink, since they wouldn’t tell anyone else about the secret passage into Hogsmeade, much to the disappointment of the older students.

The Gryffindor common room was an impressive sight once the boys were finished with it. Red and gold lions hung over almost every wall, and in a stroke of brilliance a third year had suggested a dartboard with the Slytherin serpent on it. This, of course, was done overenthusiastically, and the dartboard filled an entire wall.

Around seven thirty, the girls came chanting down the staircase from their dormitory.

“Kinda catchy,” Frank Longbottom said to no one in particular, nodding in time to the words. Soon the other boys took up the chant, and they went that way through the corridors. When they reached the Great Hall, they saw that, oddly enough, the Slytherins were singing the exact opposite.

“Down with Gryffindor! Slytherin for the Cup! Down with Gryffindor! Slytherin for the Cup!”

“Well, if it’s a battle of the wills, then,” James heard a girl called Mia mutter to Lily, before yelling the words all the more loudly. He grinned as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined Gryffindor in out-chanting the Slytherins. James looked briefly at the High Table and saw Dumbledore directing them with his wand, his bright blue eyes twinkling merrily. The Headmaster, who always seemed to know if someone was watching him, winked at James and stood up.

“If you have all finished yelling yourselves hoarse,” the professor said, “perhaps we can get our breakfast? I’m sure the house elves are wondering what is causing this dreadful din.”

He said this not as an adult telling them off, but rather as a suggestion. It really gave the impression that if they were to say no, thank you, he would be quite content to sit back and listen to them yell themselves hoarse some more. He had actually seemed to be enjoying himself. James shook his head in wonder. This bloke, he thought, is not normal.

He put aside thoughts of Dumbledore’s abnormality when the food arrived. The house elves appeared to have outdone themselves. On the Gryffindor table there was a sculpture of a Quaffle made out of what a closer look would tell you was toast, kippers laid out on a plate so that they spelled GRYFFINDOR, and a Golden Snitch carved out of butter. The food did not stay beautiful for long, as yelling oneself hoarse does tend to give one a large appetite.

---

The match was fabulous for Gryffindor spectators and horrible for Slytherin ones. The Gryffindor Chasers were superb, working as one unit. To the onlookers, it seemed as if they could read each other’s minds. They scored goal after goal, and then, in a breathtaking dive, Simon Wood of Gryffindor caught the Snitch, making the score 220-10.

James Potter took a deep breath, watching Lily Evans’ frenzied victory dance with her friends. Now or never, he thought, and poked her in the back. She whirled around.

“Merlin, Potter, don’t�””

The rest of her sentence was cut off as James pulled her closer and kissed her. Her saw her eyes widen in shock, and for a blissful second, James was sure she was kissing him back. That is, until she ripped herself away and slapped him across the face.

“Ow!” he gasped, gingerly patting his smarting cheek.

“What were you thinking?!” she cried, angry and indignant.

“It was a dare! Honestly, it was just a dare!”

“And who dared you?” Lily asked, her green eyes narrowing into slits.

“Sirius,” James admitted. Lily walked over to where Sirius was sniggering at his mate and slapped him, too.

“Jeez, Evans, what was that for?” Sirius moaned, staggering backward with the force of her blow. Now it was Lily’s friends’ turn to snigger.

“You know perfectly well what that was for, Sirius Black, and don’t pretend otherwise,” Lily hissed, then turned on her heel and marched back to James, who shrank back in fear.

“Never,” Lily whispered, her face an inch from James’, “do that again. Get it?”

“Got it.”

“Doubt it.”

With that, Lily spun around and saw that a large number of Gryffindors were gathered around, preferring to watch the first year drama instead of joining the victorious parade back to the castle. When Lily pulled out her wand, however, they suddenly decided that being early for the party wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

Severus Snape was in a bad mood. Slytherin had just been murdered by Gryffindor, and what’s more, he had bet on the outcome of the match with Rodolphus Lestrange.

His eyes flicked, as they so often did, to the Gryffindor section, searching out Lily Evans. She was jumping up and down in celebration with some other first year girls. A sad smile played on his lips. She looked so pretty when she was happy. Then again, he reminded himself, this is Lily we’re talking about. She looks so pretty doing just about anything!

Suddenly, his small happiness turned to horror. He saw things as if in slow motion.

Lily turned, her red hair swinging around, and she was in James Potter’s arms, kissing him.

Severus closed his eyes, unable to watch any longer. Of course she would choose Potter over himself. Potter was funny, smart and popular. He, Snape, was only the potions geek that no one really talked to. Oh, and he doubled as Potter’s cursing test subject.

Snape opened his eyes slowly, hoping he had somehow imagined it all. But no, when he looked at Lily, she was only and inch away…

He let out a moan of utter despair that all around him associated with losing the Quidditch match. Snape ran blindly for the stairs out of the stands, memories flooding him as he went.

“Evans, Lily!”

A flash of red caught Severus’ eye. The girl walked, trembling only slightly, up to the stool where the Sorting Hat sat.

“Please, Slytherin! Please, Slytherin! Please, Slytherin!” Severus begged in his head.

“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted. Severus shook his head. Why, he thought, couldn’t Slytherin House get some good-looking girls for a change? I mean, Narcissa Black isn’t bad, but, 1) she’s in fifth year, 2) she’s already going out with Lucius Malfoy, and 3) she’s related to that blood traitor Sirius Black who’s in Gryffindor. So much for her.

Severus watched as Lily Evans sat down next to aforementioned blood traitor and they began chatting like old friends. He shook his head. This one will have a LOT to learn…

* * *

He ran through the door of the dungeon room, breathing heavily. He had managed to get to Potions five minutes early. Severus ran up to Slughorn’s desk.

“Professor,” he wheezed, “can I ask you something?”

“Ah, Severus, m’boy!” Slughorn exclaimed. “What can I do for you?”

“Can you partner me with Lily Evans? And can you not tell her I requested it?”

“A secret Slytherin-Gryffindor romance, is it? Don’t worry, m’boy, I won’t tell a soul!”

“It’s not a romance!” Snape protested, blushing. “And she should be in Slytherin!”

“Who should be in Slytherin?” Lily asked coolly, breezing past Severus. He thought fast.

“Mia,” he answered. “I mean, she’s a pure-blood, so she should be with the rest of her kind!”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“The rest of her…” Lily repeated. “How dare you! Mia is as much a Gryffindor as anyone! Her father’s side of the family has been in Gryffindor for as long as anyone can remember! And what do you mean, ‘the rest of her kind’? What is everyone else? Subhuman?”

“Please,” Severus pleaded. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s perfectly clear what you meant, Snivellus,” Lily replied, using for the first time the Marauders’ nickname for him…

* * *

And now this. Snape wanted Lily to be happy, but not if her happiness included James Potter. There’s only one thing for it, he thought grimly. Sabotage.

What happened to you, mate?” Sirius asked Remus. “Did your mum beat you up or something?”

Remus, who had gotten back to the common room in time for a few bottles of butterbeer, had a black eye and several nasty looking scars that he certainly hadn’t had the day before.

“No, I fell down the stairs,” he said, wincing as he put pressure on his scarred right leg.

He had, of course, done nothing of the sort. It had been his first transformation away from home, and it had been worse than usual. The Shrieking Shack had lost several pieces of furniture that night. Not that anyone cared. Remus was the only one who knew how to get into the Shack, aside from Madam Pomphrey and Dumbledore.

“What kind of stairs do you have?” James asked moodily. “Because none that I know of can do that.”

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked, concerned at his friend’s tone. James told him. Remus whistled.

“Merlin’s pants! You really did it?”

“Of course! What else could I do? And Sirius and Peter haven’t exactly been angels of comfort either.”

Sirius spread his arms in a sort of not-my-fault gesture. “It could’ve been done to anyone! And she slapped me too!”

“You really shouldn’t have told him to do that, Sirius,” Remus said sagaciously, shaking his head. “That was incredibly underhanded, even for you!”

“She way overreacted!” Sirius protested. “I swear, if some girl snogged me on a dare, I would’ve been a lot better about it.”

“If you consider snogging her back taking it well…”

James had to duck as a butterbeer bottle soared straight at him.

“That’s only if she’s reasonably good-looking!” Sirius cried indignantly.

“And if she’s not?” James continued, his eyes glittering.

“I’d probably pull an Evans and get physical on her,” Sirius admitted. James threw his bottle (this time complete with butterbeer) at Sirius for the casual reference to his bodily and emotional torture of three hours before. It hit him in the face, and he howled as bits of glass embedded themselves into his skin.

Sirius ran off to find an older student who could repair flesh wounds after taking the glass out. He came back ten minutes later, healed but still fuming.

“I’ll get you for that, Potter,” he breathed. James was not unduly surprised at the use of his surname.

“I think not, Black,” he replied, laying a delicate stress on the last word. They stared each other down for nearly a full minute before bursting into laughter and giving each other high-fives.

“Nice shot, Jamesie,” Sirius chuckled, slapping his friend on the back. Remus rolled his eyes at them, drawing their attention back to him.

“So what really did happen to you?” James asked. “And don’t give us that rubbish about falling down the steps; you’d just get bumps and bruises from that.”

Remus lowered his eyes and sank into an armchair.

“You don’t understand,” he said in a barely audible whisper. “I can’t tell you, I just can’t!”

“Why not?” Sirius said rather forcefully. “We’re your mates, aren’t we?”

“Of course!” Remus cried. “And I want it to stay that way, and that’s why I can’t tell you!”

“Come off it,” James said, half laughing. “We wouldn’t desert you for anything!”

“You would,” Remus informed him. “Trust me, you would.”

“Just give us a hint?” Sirius begged. Remus shook his head angrily.

“Leave me alone! I can’t tell you, all right?”

“No, it bloody well is not all right,” James said seriously. “You look like you’ve been beaten up, and we want to know why.”

Remus scowled, closed the book he had been reading, and stormed up to the dormitory.

“Well, there’s nothing else to do,” Sirius sighed.

“Dumbledore?”

“Yep.”

---

A quarter of an hour later, James and Sirius stood in front of the ugly stone gargoyle that guarded the spiral staircase to the Headmaster’s study, and realized that they didn’t know the password.

“Er, Slytherin sucks?” James said hesitantly.

Sirius looked at him in disgust.

“D’you honestly think that would be the password?” he said. “He has to tell the teachers too, you know.”

“It was a thought!”

“Which is more than I can say for you most of the time,” Sirius said fairly. James belched.

“Sorry, too much butterbeer,” he apologized, and to their astonishment, the gargoyle sprang to life and moved aside.

“Butterbeer must’ve been the password,” James said, marveling inwardly at his own genius.

The two stepped onto the moving staircase. When it stopped, they approached the tall oak door. Neither of them wanted to be the one to knock.

“You do it.”

“No, you do it!”

“I thought of the password; that means you have to do it.”

Sirius raised a hand to the handsome door and knocked three times. A loud voice sounded from inside.

“If you’re selling Dungbombs, I don’t want any. I have just introduced a new line of Dungbombs and therefore have all I could possibly desire. Otherwise, please come in.”

James turned the doorknob, and he and Sirius walked into the room. Dumbledore was seated at his desk, smiling blithely at them.

“Have you really just introduced a new line of Dungbombs?” James asked incredulously, forgetting for the moment why they had come.

“I have indeed,” Dumbledore answered him, his smile widening. “Gradual Release Dungbombs; make a whole corridor smell for weeks at a time. But I’m sure you haven’t come to listen to my sales pitch, wonderful though it may be. Why have you boys come to see me?”

“Well, it’s Remus Lupin,” Sirius began awkwardly. “He just got back from visiting his mum, and, er, he looks pretty bad.”

“Yeah,” James added. “I want to find out who did it and hex them so they won’t ever stand up again.”

Sirius gave James a you-idiot-you-don’t-say-stuff-like-that-to-a-teacher look, but James didn’t seem to care and neither did Dumbledore.

“Such loyalty is admirable,” the professor said slowly, “but has it occurred to you how Remus must be feeling?”

It hadn’t. Dumbledore went on.

“You are obviously good friends with him, to be so worried about his health and safety. I am afraid I’m responsible for the fact that Remus cannot tell you what has happened to him.”

James and Sirius shot identical quizzical looks at Dumbledore.

“You see, I asked him not to tell anyone about this, something he agreed to readily. I believe he rather thinks you wouldn’t be friends with him if he did.”

“He’s mentioned that,” Sirius said, wondering how Dumbledore knew so much.

“I thought he might have. Exceptionally bright students though you two may be, you are just too young to understand what happens to Mr. Lupin.”

“‘Happens’?” James questioned. “You mean this has happened to him before?”

“Yes, and it will keep happening and there is nothing yourself and Mr. Black can do about it,” Dumbledore said sternly. “Remus may tell you if he desires how he got the abrasions of which you have informed me, or he may not. It is his choice and his alone and I do not intend for either of you to attempt to make it for him. You may go now.”

There was no mistaking the dismissal. The two boys got up and exited the study.


A/N: Soo...another chappie done! Please review to share any questions, complaints, greivances, gargoyles or guacamole you may have!

Severus’ quill paused. He wondered how to do what he had made up his mind to do. There were so many choices! To make Polyjuice Potion or to steal it from Slughorn…

He shook his head. He wasn’t worrying about that now. The note he was writing now read:

Potter,

Meet me in the Trophy Room at six o’clock tomorrow night. I need to tell you something.

L.E.

P.S. �” There’s no need to send a return owl.

It was the best imitation of her handwriting and her style that he could do, though it looked a bit shaky from his nerves. He only hoped it would be good enough.

At this point I think an explanation of Severus’ clever plot would not go amiss. He intended to somehow procure one of Lily Evans’ hairs (he still hadn’t quite worked out how to do that yet), then either steal or make Polyjuice Potion. Next, he would send Potter his note and go to the Trophy room at six o’clock, turn into Lily, and wait for Potter to turn up. Then…he wasn’t sure what he’d do then. Pay Potter back for all the times he’d hexed him just because he was alive, and of course for stealing Lily. It was the perfect plan.

But, as everyone knows, even the most perfect plans can fall apart. Snape was determined not to let that happen. He made up his mind.

He suddenly stood up, crossed the Slytherin common room to the door, and exited. Snape was running along a corridor he knew well, the one leading to the dungeon room where Potions classes were held. He often went there on weekends and after classes were over, and Slughorn now recognized his aptitude for Potions. Of course, the professor did not know exactly how good he was at Potions. No one did. The knowledge would scare them.

By this time, Severus had reached the Potions room. He knocked hard on the door.

“Come in!” Slughorn boomed from inside. Severus did so.

“Severus, m’boy! Haven’t seen you in days! I thought you had forgotten where the room was!” Slughorn cried. “Come to brew another sixth year potion?”

“No, sir,” Snape said. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, m’boy, ask away!”

“I was wondering if, er, if I could take some Polyjuice Potion, professor,” Severus said, feeling extremely stupid. “I wanted to experiment with its properties, and I didn’t think I was up to making it myself,” he finished, lying through his teeth. He was perfectly capable of making it himself, but he thought the veiled flattery would help his case nicely.

It worked.

“Well of course, m’boy, of course!” Slughorn proclaimed. “It can’t hurt to give the best potioneer a bit of help, can it?”

“No, sir,” Snape replied, hardly able to believe that it had worked. Slughorn was thicker than he had thought. He took a flask from the inside of his robes and ladled as much Polyjuice Potion as he could into it. After thanking Slughorn a little too profusely, he made his way back to the Slytherin common room, glowing with pride and success. It was time for phase two.

---

“C’mon, Remus! Dumbledore said you could tell us!” Sirius cajoled, forgetting what Dumbledore had also said about not influencing their friend’s decision. James hadn’t.

“Stop it, Sirius,” he said. “If he doesn’t want to tell us, we shouldn’t make him.”

Sirius threw his friend a look of shock and dismay.

“Jamesie, you’re turning into a…a responsible student!” he cried. “If we don’t watch out, you could become a prefect! Or even Head Boy! I would disown you if that happened,” he warned. James rolled his eyes.

“D’you really think Dumbledore would make me a prefect or,” he spat the next words, “Head Boy? I’d die of the shame!”

“Then you’re all right, mate,” Sirius acknowledged. The two turned back to Remus, who had used this time to think of a comeback to the question that was sure to come.

“If you don’t want to say, that’s fine, but I warn you, we’ll find out. Marauders have a way of finding out things we probably shouldn’t,” Sirius sighed.

Remus was surprised. The question had not come. But this was hardly better. Remus knew they were right; James and Sirius were the best students of the year; they would of course figure out that his mother was always ill or something always came up every full moon, and then where would he be? All three of the boys in his dormitory would be afraid to go near him. It was too much. Remus ran from the dormitory and his only friends, out the portrait hole, and to the library. At least he would get quiet there. And there was the added bonus that James, Sirius, and Peter avoided it like the plague.

---

Lily sat in the back of Defense Against the Dark Arts, hating the teacher more than she knew it was possible to hate someone. Professor Hancock stalked down the aisles, surveying each first year’s notes with an overly critical eye.

“Mr. Potter!” he said sharply, stopping by James’ desk. James looked into his cold grey eyes, utterly unafraid.

“Yes, my lovely Professor?” James simpered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Lily admired his daring.

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing to that piece of parchment?”

James had been alternately scribbling on and tapping the parchment in question with his wand. Professor Hancock picked it up. Lily saw James mutter a spell, and the writing on the parchment disappeared. The professor clicked his tongue in annoyance. He drew his own wand.

“Specialis Revelio!” he cried, pointing his wand at the parchment. A few scribbles appeared. James smirked.

“Satisfied, Professor dearest?” he asked sweetly.

“No, I am not satisfied, Potter, and don’t you take that tone with me! That would be a detention!” the professor said forcefully. Then he appeared to see something. “Hmm, ‘J.P. and L.E. Forever,’” he read from a corner of the parchment. “I wonder who this L.E. would be?”

His eyes never moved from Lily. The Slytherins (whom the Gryffindors were sharing yet another class with) hooted with laughter. James slipped farther down in his seat, and Lily saw that his ears were a flaming red color to rival her own hair. Out of pity for James and something else she couldn’t quite name, Lily did something she had never had enough nerve to do before.

“Everyone knows that,” she said loudly. Professor Hancock raised his eyebrows, daring her to go on.

“It’s true though! Everyone does know that James likes me,” she continued unashamedly. That shut the Slytherins up.

“Detention, Miss Evans,” he said silkily. “I will not be spoken to such. Class dismissed.”

Fuming, Lily slammed shut The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. Detention, for pointing out the painfully obvious? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

In all the confusion, nobody noticed as a hair separated itself from Lily’s scalp and zoomed into the waiting hand of Severus Snape.

Lily stalked from the room, unable still to believe that she had just received her first detention.

“Hey, Evans! Lily, wait up!”

She didn’t know what made her do it. James Potter was the last person she wanted to talk to at the moment, but she turned. Shockingly, James looked sincere. He took her hand, and for reasons unbeknownst to her, Lily didn’t pull away. This seemed to bolster James’ confidence.

“Thanks for standing up to Hancock like that for me,” he said. “I really don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”

Lily softened, and she gave James’ hand a little squeeze.

“You would have been laughed out of the room by a bunch of Slytherins,” she told him bluntly. He chuckled.

“And don’t sweat the detention. You know, that’s the only true mark of a Marauder,” he teased. “Me and Sirius�””

“Sirius and I,” Lily corrected automatically. James made a monumental effort not to sigh or roll his eyes.

“Right you are, Evans, Sirius and I,” he amended, “must have racked up about thirty detentions together.”

Lily didn’t deny it.

“Evans,” James started, and braced himself as if for impact, “will you go out with me?”

Lily hesitated for what seemed like an age to both of them, but what was in reality only a couple of seconds. “Prove to me that you love me.”

James took a deep breath. This was it. “This should prove it,” he murmured.

Without so much as thinking about what he was doing, James planted a kiss on her lips. As he pulled away, he saw that her eyes were shining; not with happiness, however, with tears. James’ face fell.

“Lils, I’m sorry, I�””

But Lily had turned her back on him and was running away down the corridor, and James thought he heard a muffled sob as she disappeared from sight.

---

Arya Knightley marched down the staircase from the girls’ dormitory, looking determined and vindictive. She walked straight up to James Potter, and when he looked up to see who it was, she punched him hard in the face.

James felt several teeth part company with his gums, and he bit his tongue till it almost bled to keep from crying out. It occurred to him that she must have practiced her right hook on her little brother. That was one kid he definitely did not envy.

“You filthy scumbag, Potter,” she said coldly. “Lily is up in our dormitory crying her eyes out; she said you’d forced another kiss on her.”

Arya raised her arm as if to hit him again, but thought the better of it. She sighed.

“Don’t you learn, Potter? Lily won’t like you, let alone go out with you, if you keep taking advantage of her like that. I thought what happened at the Quidditch final would have knocked some sense into you.”

James grimaced. He still didn’t like to think about that particular catastrophe. One thing bothered him, though. Why had Lily sent her friend to do her dirty work? She had proved herself more than capable, after all. He voiced this query.

“Because Lily is too busy being distraught to do it herself and I thought someone needed to do it,” she replied. James offered a small smile at this. Arya scowled in return and stalked back to her dormitory.

---

The last thing James expected was an owl from Lily. But the next morning, a screech owl that he did not recognize swooped down on him and dropped a note into his eggs. It looked like the writer’s hand had been shaking badly.

Potter,

Meet me in the Trophy Room at six o’clock tomorrow night. I need to tell you something.

L.E.

P.S.�”There’s no need to send a return owl.

No need to send a return owl…that was odd. Lily Evans wasn’t the type of girl to act without assurances. Whenever Marauder plots concerned her, she would make them all run over the plan in its entirety at least ten times before she would give it her OK. This was totally unlike her. James looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was talking animatedly with her friends; only the dark circles under her eyes hinted that she had not had a very good night. He decided to forget how unlike her it was and go. Besides, a sly voice in his head said, you’ll still be alone with her…

---

Six o’clock was approaching. James ran as quietly as he could toward the trophy room. He looked inside before entering. Lily was there, all right, twisting a strand of the hair that was her best feature. Well, thought James, that and her face, and her eyes, and everything else about her. He walked into the room.

“’Lo, Evans.”

“Hi, Potter.”

“Looking good tonight,” James said. After all, it couldn’t hurt to get in some compliments.

“Shut up, Potter.”

James obliged. Snape (because that was who it of course was) was nearly beside himself with glee. Never before had Potter actually shut up when he told him to. It was a nice feeling.

“Let’s get down to business,” Snape said. “Potter, we’re over.”

James simply looked puzzled. “What d’you mean, we’re over?”

“We’re over. Done. Through.”

“I don’t understand,” James said, his brow furrowing even more.

Snape groaned and put a hand to his temple. This would take longer than he had anticipated. “I’m breaking up with you, Potter. I’ve found someone else.”

James was not half so stupid as Lily (and Sirius) occasionally made out. He knew that whoever this was probably was trying to break him and Lily up. Obviously, this boy had seen them kissing one of the two times, and thought they were going out. There was only one way to find out who this imposter was.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Snape smothered a grin. The git was finally cottoning on.

“Severus Snape,” he said, savoring the way his name sounded in Lily’s voice.

“Snivelly?” James said incredulously.

“Don’t call m�”him that!” Snape said, a little too shrilly for his liking. James just laughed.

“You didn’t have a problem with it yesterday,” James said, also smothering a grin. “You call him that yourself behind his back.”

She did? That was news to Snape. But Potter wasn’t done.

“What is the name of Sirius’ favorite cousin?” he shot at Lily-Snape.

“I don’t know,” Snape said, a little worried. This was not in the plan…

“What are all the titles of Albus Dumbledore?” James asked next. Snape tried getting angry.

“How should I know? Potter, if you have a point, kindly get to it!”

“All right, my point. You should know Andromeda’s name because you were praising her creativity and attention to detail only last week. And you sure as heck knew Dumbledore’s titles on the first of term. Bloody near knocked my dad off his feet. Therefore, I draw the conclusion that you are not Lily Evans, but Snivellus Snape.”

“What gave me away?”

The question was out before Snape could stop it. James smiled patronizingly.

“Snivellus,” he said, pausing dramatically, “I was never going out with Evans.”

James walked in a slow circle around Snape, who was frozen with terror.

“I think I’ll leave you here for Pringle to find, Snivelly,” James thought out loud. “And so you can’t run away,” he continued as Snape’s eyes flicked to the door, “I think I’ll do this. Petrificus Totalus!”

Now Snape was frozen with something other than fear; the Full Body-Bind Curse. His limbs sprang together and he keeled over backward, hating Potter all the way down. The plan had completely backfired. He would have cursed if he could move his mouth. As it was, he settled for glaring at Potter. Potter waved cheerily back.

“See you ‘round, Snivelly. Or rather not,” he added as an afterthought. He walked out of the room, careful to leave the door open. Why not make things easier for Pringle, the dear man, he thought sarcastically.

James was acting extraordinarily un-Marauder-ish. He was absorbed in a book while Sirius and Peter plotted. This particular book was excusable; a library book in which James was looking up anything and everything that would help to unveil the mystery surrounding Remus.

Sirius was brainstorming aloud, and Peter was listening attentively.

“…and we can have it show everyone in Hogwarts, all of the secret passages, everything! And if anyone tries to read it other than a Marauder, we can give them a piece of our minds! I actually got the idea from when Hancock took that bit of parchment from Jamesie�””

James looked up from his book, bemused.

“You remembered that? After all these months?”

“I remember every detention every Marauder has ever had, but don’t make me go into the details now. So if some brainless moron steals it, it can�””

“Oi! You two, listen to this! I found something.”

Something in James’ tone made Sirius stop talking immediately and both he and Peter gave James their full attention.

“I looked up the dates of Remus’ absences…and they’re all full moons.”

The truth hit Sirius first.

“You mean�””

“Yeah! It would explain everything!”

“All the scratches�””

“�”and the scars…”

James and Sirius stared at each other excitedly. Peter cleared his throat.

“Would you mind telling me what is so terribly exciting that you’ve just discovered?”

"Man, you’re slow, Pettigrew,” Sirius said fondly.

“We’re saying that�””

“�”we think Remus is a werewolf.”

“Way to play the drama, Sirius,” James said disgustedly. But it didn’t seem as if Sirius had heard. He sprang up from his bed and started pacing the dormitory.

“It makes perfect sense! That’s why he didn’t want to tell us! He thought we’d turn on him!”

“We share a dormitory with a werewolf,” Peter said, his eyes wide. James chucked a balled up set of robes at him.

“You idiot, that’s just how he was afraid we’d react!”

“But how do we tell him we know? That’d be a pleasant chat; ‘Hey mate, we found out about your furry little problem!’” Sirius said sarcastically.

“Whose furry little problem?” said a familiar voice from the door.

Remus Lupin was standing in the doorway.

James, Sirius and Peter looked at each other and decided to tell the truth.

“Yours,” Sirius said quietly. Remus still didn’t understand.

“I haven’t got any pets.”

“We know you haven’t,” James replied. He squirmed slightly. “We were referring to your, er, condition.”

At those words, Remus’ eyes grew as round as dinner plates. He made to bolt out the door again, but James sealed it with a wave of his wand and a whispered spell. Remus turned slowly to face his classmates, and they saw that he was shaking. Peter kindly ushered him to his bed.

“Remus, we don’t care. We know you can’t help who you are and we will still like you now that we know.”

Remus turned his head to each of them, hardly daring to believe this piece of amazing luck. All three boys nodded encouragingly. He spoke, his voice hoarse at first, then growing stronger.

“I got the bite when I was six. My father offended one of the neighbors, we had no idea he was a werewolf. I was playing outside, and the next thing I knew, he’d bit me and I transformed myself. I told my friends, and they never spoke to me again. Then I resolved that I would never make close friends again. I wouldn’t have been able to bear it if I lost more friends.

“I broke my resolution when I met Peter and James in Diagon Alley. Then, on the train, I met Sirius and Lily, and my promise to myself was pretty well in smithereens. I was so afraid that you lot would turn on me like my old friends had that I couldn’t stand the thought that you might find out. But now you have, and it seems as if it’s for the best anyway.”

A long silence followed this speech.

“Does transforming hurt?”

That question was so childish and stupid-sounding that James was instantly appalled at himself for having uttered it. Remus had no choice but to be sarcastic with him.

“No, James, these bruises are entirely painless.”

Sirius had a rather more intelligent question.

“Are you dangerous to animals too or just humans?”

“Just humans,” Remus shrugged. “What, are you worried about Godric or something? ‘Cause I swear I never attacked any owls.”

“No, not him,” Sirius said. James recognized the glint in Sirius’ eye that came before his suggesting something either very brilliant or very stupid. Or both.

“What if we,” Sirius gestured to himself, James, and Peter, “became Animagi?”

“No way,” Remus said, inhaling sharply. “That would take years�””

“We’ve got years,” James said.

“�”and you’d have to be really, really good,” Remus said, pretending he hadn’t heard James.

“Well, not to sound like I’m bragging or anything, but me and James are top of the year, and we can give Peter a bit of a boost,” said Sirius.

“Look,” Remus said, “I’ve hung around with you lot long enough to know that if you really want to do this, nothing I say is going to stop you. But I’m going to ask you to at least think this through.”

“Maybe you haven’t hung round with this lot long enough,” Sirius said, raising his eyebrows. “Since when have any of us ever thought things through?”

Upon reflection, Remus couldn’t think of a single instance. He admitted this.

“Knew you’d see it that way. Thinking is your specialty and Evans’, not ours.”

James’ stomach gave a funny lurch.

“Are we going to tell her?”

“Who?” Sirius wanted to know. It was at times like these that James strongly suspected his friend of having severe short-term memory loss.

“Evans. She’s been just as worried about Remus as we have. And she was the one that gave me this book.”

“I don’t know, this is sort of a Marauder thing,” Sirius said doubtfully.

“And she’s an Honorary Marauder! She’s been a load of help with our plots and everything. She deserves to know.”

In the end, Sirius, Remus, and Peter agreed, and they went to the common room to look for Lily. It wasn’t hard. She was sitting at one of the tables, writing an essay for History of Magic.

“Evans, we found out about Remus,” James said when they had her attention. She put down her quill.

“Well, it certainly took you long enough,” she said tartly. The boys gaped at her. “I’ve known for ages; why d’you think I gave you that particular book?”

“How long have you known?” Peter asked in awe.

“About two months.”

“Two months?! Evans, you are the limit! How could you know something like that and not tell us?” Sirius burst out.

“Quite easily, really,” Lily said lightly. “It’s rather enjoyable, watching you three try and figure it out. Eventually I took pity on you and lent James that almanac. Though I did think you’d figure it out before now, though. You’re supposed to be intelligent.”

“Is that a complement, Evans?” James said, his eyes twinkling.

“Now that I think about it, no, Potter, it isn’t,” Lily said. “If your head was any more swelled they’d have to rebuild Hogwarts to accommodate it.”

Insert considerable “ooooh”-ing and high-fiving here.

James walked to a chair by the fire and sank into it. He had to do the History of Magic essay as well, but he was putting that off. At the moment, all he wanted to think about was Evans.

There was a spark there, he was sure of it. All the compliments she so cleverly disguised as insults, all the times she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t watching…

Lulled by these comforting thoughts and the heat of the fire, James finally fell asleep.

A/N: Now, this is my little spiel, before you all go off and leave angry reviews about how soon they found out. Hermione figured out Remus' lycanthropy in less than a year too. James, Peter, and Sirius actually live with him, so it stands to reason that they would discover it fairly quickly. (And don't get the wrong idea that I don't want reviews; I love them! I just wanted to clear up that bugger first.)

“Professor?”

McGonagall took a deep breath. When James Potter called her Professor, he was always sucking up for something. Three months ago it had been Hogsmeade. Last time, it had been Quidditch.

“Yes, Potter?”

“I was wondering how someone would go about becoming an Animagus.”

She let out the breath. No harm in answering that.

“Well, Potter, it is a very long and complicated process, and I would be astounded if anyone in this room ever achieved it.”

She surveyed the all over the rims of her spectacles before continuing.

“A person wishing to become an Animagus must first submit their name for consideration to the Ministry of Magic. There they will go through your personal file to make sure that you are of age and that you have no criminal history. Then you must undergo a series of very difficult magical tests, far beyond anything taught here.

“If you pass this test�”and very few do�”then the Ministry provides a training room in which you will be observed practicing the necessary spell by Ministry officials who will step in if anything goes wrong.”

Suddenly, McGonagall stopped talking. Her eyes burned into James’, the latter fidgeting slightly under her stern gaze.

“Please see me after class, Potter,” she said carefully. “Now, back to your beetles. Pettigrew, I have enough sense to see that that is not a button. Do assume I have some intelligence, won’t you?”

Peter, who had been poking his partially Transfigured beetle halfheartedly with his wand, gave a start and flushed. He muttered something under his breath, and the beetle went from red to dark blue. McGonagall tutted loudly and demonstrated the proper hand motion and incantation again. Peter’s beetle immediately lost its antennae and flattened into a perfect button.

The bell rang. James shoved A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration back into his bag along with a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill.

“Just a moment, then, Potter.”

James had forgotten to stay after class. He doubled back through the door. McGonagall indicated a chair near her desk.

“Professor, I’ve got Charms�””

“I will send a note along to Filius,” McGonagall said, flicking her wand. A piece of parchment flew out the door. “Now sit down, Potter.”

James sat.

“Potter, if you or Black or any of your friends are planning to turn into Animagi, I must remind you that that is illegal. And you will not just get detention�”which, I must say, has startlingly little effect on you�”you will get time in Azkaban.”

“Professor, it was just an innocent question, honest!”

As his Head of House, McGonagall knew James. She also knew that the chances of him asking an innocent question were about those of a fire crab venturing out in a blizzard. Slim to none, in other words.

But, as she searched his face, she saw that he was either telling the truth or a brilliantly gifted liar. Besides, she reasoned with herself, I could be the Transfiguration teacher of the world’s first underage Animagus.

McGonagall dismissed him.

---

“Ah, yes, Mr. Potter. I got Minerva’s line,” Professor Flitwick said resignedly. “Since your friend Mr. Black openly refused to pair up with anyone except yourself�””

Sirius winked mischievously at James, who grinned back.

“�”you two will be partners for Freezing Charms.”

“So, what did McGonagall want?” Sirius asked in an undertone after Flitwick hurried to unfreeze Pamela Hughes of Ravenclaw.

“Asked me if we were going to turn into Animagi.”

“That woman is too sharp for her own good,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a few minutes, watching other students’ fruitless efforts to freeze their glasses of water. Sirius made to drink from his, but James muttered the Freezing Charm and a block of solid ice dropped on Sirius’ jaw. He swore quite badly, earning himself a reproachful glance from Flitwick.

“Ow,” he moaned, turning an offended glare on James. “What’re you playing at, anyway?”

“Sorry,” James said, laughing, “couldn’t resist. Your face was priceless.”

Sirius eventually saw the funny side of this, and the two of them were laughing their heads off at James’ spirited imitations of Sirius going cross-eyed and woozy after the blow from the ice by the end of class.

“You know, that could have really hurt,” said Remus, who was hurrying to get close enough to tell them off properly. James and Sirius both flinched; they hadn’t heard him come up behind them.

“Oh, lighten up, Moony,” Sirius chuckled, relaxing. “If I can laugh about it, you have every right to, also.”

“You weren’t laughing at the time,” Remus said, going misty eyed at the recollection. “Nearly gave Evans a bloody heart attack. She thought someone had died or something.”

“I thought no such thing,” Lily said from behind them. James yelled in alarm and whipped around.

“WHAT IS IT WITH PEOPLE SNEAKING UP BEHIND US, EH?!” he bellowed. Lily was practically paralyzed with laughter.

“You�”had to�”have jumped�”a foot,” she choked. Sirius thumped her on the back, sending her careening into a group of third years.

“Honestly, Sirius, you’ve forgotten how short I am,” she grinned, trying and failing to look angry.

“I hate to interrupt this charming little party,” said a cold voice, “but you lot will be late for Potions if you don’t get a move on, and you know how I’d hate to see Gryffindor lose any more points.”

“Snivellus,” Sirius growled, the grin vanishing instantly from his face. Lily looked petrified. James drew his wand quicker than anyone would have thought possible.

“Don’t!” Lily cried suddenly, just as James was about to curse Snape into oblivion. “Don’t do it, he didn’t do anything to you!”

James shot her a “why-did-you-ruin-my-cool-moment” look. Snape’s lip curled, and he said the first thing that came to his mind, something he didn’t mean in the slightest.

“How kind of you, Evans, but I don’t accept help from Mudbloods.”

Lily knew immediately that Snape had said something extremely insulting. People she had never spoken to were screaming, “How dare you!” and a lot of people she had spoken to and was friendly with drew their wands, each looking as if they intended to murder Snape on the spot.

“What’s all this?” said a silky voice.

James shut his eyes in the pained expression of one doomed without a chance of redemption. Lucius Malfoy was the last thing he needed now. A prefect and a member of Slytherin House, he was one of the few people who could make the situation worse than it already was. Some of the quicker thinking students hastily stowed their wands in their robes and struck up conversations with their friends, determined to act as if nothing had happened.

“Fighting in the corridors?” he drawled. “And�”dear me, fourteen against one?”

“Snape called Evans ‘Mudblood’,” a Ravenclaw second year with a drawn wand called out. Malfoy’s lips twisted into a cold smile.

“Well, you can hardly expect him to call her ‘Pureblood’, now can you?” he said in a quiet but yet somehow carrying voice. “Five points from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. If I catch anyone fighting again, it’ll be more.”

He swept away, ignoring the outraged looks on most people’s faces.

“I’m telling you, next time I see that git, he won’t be walking away with that smug smile of his,” Sirius said furiously, pounding his fist into his hand. “Come to think of it, he won’t be walking anywhere at all, if I can manage it.”

“What was so bad about what he said?” Lily said, desperately trying to catch up. Sirius stared at her incredulously.

“You mean you actually don’t know?” he said, raising his eyebrows so high that they threatened to disappear into his long hair.

“No, I don’t, and if someone felt like telling me, that’d be great,” she snapped irritably. James sighed.

“Sure we’ll tell you, Evans, we’re just so amazed that you don’t already know!”

“FOR MERLIN’S SAKE, WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HE MEANT?” Lily yelled at the top of her voice. James and Sirius smiled sheepishly.

“Mudblood is one of the most insulting things our kind can call someone,” Remus explained, not meeting Lily’s eyes. “It means that your blood isn’t as clean as theirs, just because you’re Muggle-born. It’s a load of rubbish, but there you are. Only some so-called purebloods believe that stuff.”

Lily’s face reddened in anger.

“I can’t believe he would do that!” she cried. “He always seemed so quiet, and he’s so good at Potions!”

James shook his head.

“Merlin’s pants, Evans, just because he’s good at Potions doesn’t make him a saint!”

Lily treated him to her most withering glance. “I know that, Potter.”

---

“I hate him!” Lily stormed. “It’s impossible to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion when he’s breathing down my neck and telling me I ought to have taken the cauldron off the fire before I put in the rat’s tails!”

Lily had had Severus Snape for a partner in Potions, and she was positively fuming about it.

“Calm down, Lils!” said a slightly alarmed Arya. “You’re still one of the best potioneers in the year, that hasn’t changed just because that slimy git made you mess up one potion.”

“You should talk, you were partnered with Sirius! At least he’s a laugh, even if he isn’t that good at Potions!” Lily cried. “All Snivellus does is sit there writing in that bloody stupid textbook of his and he only pays attention to the potion if I’ve done something wrong and didn’t realize it! I’d rather be partners with Potter than him!”

At this, there was much smirking and eyebrow-wiggling.

“What?” said Lily, stopping in mid-pace around the dormitory.

“Oh, it’s just�”” Mia began.

“�”we thought you’d come ‘round soon enough,” Kat cut in. Lily stared from one face to the next, to the next, looking bewildered.

“He’s crazy for you, Lils,” Arya said.

Lily resumed her pacing. So this was about Potter, was it? Her steps became more clipped, but her friends didn’t seem to notice.

“I mean, you have so much in common! You’re both Marauders, really smart, like hexing people who annoy you…” Arya was saying.

“Shut up before I hex you,” Lily threatened. Arya grinned.

“Case in point,” she said smugly.

“So are you going to go out with him or what?” Mia asked impatiently.

“No,” Lily said, a little too quickly.

“Ooh, she’s considering him!” Kat gasped. Lily rolled her eyes at all of them.

“If I go out with Potter, all he’ll want to do is kiss me in the corridors.”

“And there’s something wrong with that, I wonder?” a voice quipped.

“Potter!” Lily yelled in shock. “How in Merlin’s name did you get up here?”

“Nice to see you too, Evans,” James grinned.

“But how did you get up here?” Lily repeated.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” James winked. “I’ve been listening to your fascinating conversation. Bad luck with ol’ Snivelly, I say.”

Is there ANYTHING Potter cannot find a way to do? Lily’s amazed side wondered.

Yeah, how about shutting up and not acting like such a prat all the time? her irritated side replied eloquently.

“Oh, and Evans? I completely agree with everything you said about Snivellus, and would like to add that he is an ugly git.”

“I concur,” Lily said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Now that I’ve had my word, I’ll take my leave. Ta ta, ladies,” James said, tipping an imaginary hat. He reopened the window, hopped onto the broom he had pulled from the outside ledge, and flew out of sight.

Actually, it was quite embarrassing that nobody had seen him come in.

“Girls,” Kat said slowly, “we have a problem. James Potter can get into our dormitory.”

“So let’s make sure he never will,” said Lily.