Part One

Lily adjusted her robes, tucked her hair behind her ear, and forced a smile on her face.
She was exhausted, but she was determined to keep going, because there was simply too much to do and she couldn't afford to stop. It would be a short meeting, anyway, and then she could go back to working on the massive pile of schoolwork that never seemed to shrink and worrying about the one last charm she couldn't seem to master. Or rather, the charm she had passed for O.W.L.s and now couldn't cast at all as they reviewed for N.E.W.T.s.

Entering the prefect's lounge, she was not surprised to find James and Remus there already: James had been trying to one-up her all year and get there early. For a while, it had been a bit of a game between them, until she had let him win, mostly because after Christmas he had started setting up the room and making sure the fire was hot enough. Whether he was trying to be responsible or trying to impress her, she wasn't sure. She could never tell what was going on with him: he was a mystery now, a former troublemaker and prat who had shown up seventh year with the Head Boy badge and a very different personality--one that she still didn't understand at times, even after working with him all year, and one that had grown strangely distant as the months had progressed.

"Hi Remus--Potter," she greeted them as cheerfully as she could. James glanced up and smiled at her--a warm friendly smile that confused her at times: was it just for her, did he smile at everyone like that now, or had he always done so and she'd never noticed? Either way, she hoped she wasn't blushing, because she liked that smile, on the rare occasions when she saw it.

"Evans, when are you going to start using my first name?" James asked, pretending to be exasperated, but she saw the twinkle in his eye and knew he was teasing. And for once, she didn't mind; she actually had a comeback.

"How about when you stop hexing Slytherins for fun?" she replied with a grin.

Remus clapped him on the back. "It'll be Potter forever then, Prongs."

James laughed, but Lily gave them a coy look. "I could call you Prongs, too. Especially if you told me what it means."

"Forget it. I'd rather you call me by my middle name," he replied, then arched an eyebrow at her. "If you know it."

"It's Harrington," she replied without thinking as she helped him move the sofa. "After your father."

She noticed Remus nod appreciatively, but James gave her a curious look. "How did you know that?" he asked. She shrugged, oddly embarrassed.

"Must have been from the Sorting," she mumbled.

"No," he said, either ignoring her discomfort or completely unaware of it. "They don't use middle names for the Sorting."

"Then I probably heard it somewhere else," she replied, trying to brush him off. "Look, if you want me to call you Harrington, I will. Or Harry for short."

"I just didn't expect you to know it," he laughed. "Call me James. At least once before we finish school, okay?" It sounded oddly pleading, and she wondered at his tone.

"At least once," she murmured, eyeing him. "All right. I'll try. But only if you tell me what Prongs means."

"You might as well call me Potter then," he replied as several students began to enter the prefects' lounge.

She pretended to sigh in mock disappointment. She had wondered for years what the Gryffindors’ nicknames meant, but not once had any of them let slip a hint or clue, even under the influence of copious amounts of Butterbeer or Firewhiskey. It had become a running joke for her to ask--to badger, really--yet even Peter pretended not to hear her when she tried to trick him into revealing something, anything.

She also wondered how they managed to sneak around the castle without getting caught. There were times she wished she knew how, for it was getting harder and harder to find someplace to study not already taken over by frantic fifth-years and seventh-years. But then, that was another of their secrets, another one of his secrets that she knew he had and found herself thinking about more and more.

Shaking her head of inappropriate thoughts, Lily nodded at James, and they started the meeting. It was as short as she anticipated; there was not much to go over until they handed out the schedule for the train ride to London, and as that was still two months away, they hadn't even started working on it. They were both too busy with N.E.W.T. reviews, and it was fairly obvious the other prefects wanted to get back to studying as well.

"I'll clean up," Lily told James as everyone left. "I'm going to stay and study a bit. Gryffindor is getting distracting, and Madam Pince is tired of kicking me out of the library."

James shrugged. "That's all right, I've got some time before I meet Sirius." He started to charm the chairs back into the corners. Lily couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind as they worked together, quickly moving everything back to its proper place; sometimes they seemed to make a good team, but other times they seemed as reserved as ever around one another.

"Thank you, James," she said, placing special emphasis on his first name. He gave her a look of exaggerated shock.

"You are quite welcome, Lily," he replied with a wink. "But I'm still not telling." Gathering his bag, he continued talking, friendly and casual. "So what are you working on tonight?"

"Well, that Patronus essay, for one," she said, and she noticed a dark look cross his face. "But I'm really trying to get the boggart spell down."

"Boggarts?" he asked, giving her a quizzical look. "But we passed those in O.W.L.s. You were brilliant at it."

Lily felt herself blushing at the easy, natural compliment…and the fact that she could no longer cast the spell. "Thank you, but I seem to have forgotten it. I haven't been able to banish a boggart since the holidays, and Armitage is planning on reviewing them in class next week." She had stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas and had come across one in her dormitory, hiding in one the wardrobes. When, to her shock, she had failed to banish it, she had been forced to ask Professor McGonagall for help. She in turn had sent Lily to see Professor Armitage, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, for extra tutoring, but so far Lily had failed every time they had practiced.

James frowned. "I'm sure it's just nerves. Armitage is throwing so much at us for N.E.W.T.s it’s a wonder we're not trying to Stun the castle ghosts every time we turn a corner."

"Maybe," she replied absently. "Anyway, I've been reading everything I can to try to figure out the problem. Hopefully I can find one I can practice on." She did not mention that she was fairly certain there was a boggart in the grandfather clock in the corner; she wanted to practice on her own, so that if she failed again, no one saw her. She had a feeling that if James knew there was a boggart in the prefect's lounge and she intended to face it, he would insist on staying with her. He was a Gryffindor, after all.

"Let me know if you do," he said, almost on cue. "I can help you with the charm. I've been known to have a sense of humor at times."

"I've noticed," she replied dryly. "And thanks. What are you working on?"

He sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. "I'm going over that same essay with Sirius. And then the spell itself, because I can't get my Patronus to resemble anything but a dirty rain cloud, and I don’t think that will do me much good unless I'm staring down a drought."

"Then I can help you with that in return," she said, the words popping out before she could stop them. "I've got it pretty well. I even produced a corporeal one on Friday."

"You did? Was yours the silver swan, then?"

"No," she laughed. "Mine was the deer--well, a doe, I guess. No antlers."

He gave her a funny look and a nod. "A doe. Huh." She didn't have a chance to ask him about it before he shook himself and forced a smile. "Then maybe we can set up a time to practice both," he said. "I'll keep an eye out for boggarts we can use."

"Thanks, James," she replied, his first name falling easily from her lips. He winked again, and she rolled her eyes as he turned away. "Good luck with your writing." She settled into a chair and took out her parchment and quills, intending to work on her essay before trying the boggart.

James waved and headed toward the door, stopping just before he left. "It was really a doe?" he asked, and Lily gave him a questioning look.

"Yes, why? Not what you expected?"

"No expectations," he replied. "Just a coincidence, I guess. Don't stay out late, Evans." He left her alone, wondering what he meant by a coincidence.

She worked on the essay--six feet of complicated magical theory--for what felt like hours. She was fairly certain she drifted off at least once, because all of a sudden she heard the clock in the corner chime midnight, but didn't remember it chiming the half hour. Standing up, Lily swore as she stretched: she was out past curfew and still hadn't faced the boggart in the clock.

She took out her wand, determined to let the creature out. She knew she was being rash and reckless, and yet she was so frustrated at not being able to banish one several times now that she had to try: she'd read so much, thought so hard about turning her fears into something she could laugh at, that she couldn't leave now without even attempting to face it.

Striding up to the clock, she raised her wand, took a deep breath, and opened the door. A shapeless cloud sped out and zoomed around her, like a dark bat circling its prey. It slowly coalesced into a vaguely human shape, one she recognized and dreaded.

It was her.

Yet the figure before her was dirty and bruised, clutching a broken wand and limping with an injury to its leg. Its hair was cut short and ragged and its eyes were dull and lifeless. It was a lonely figure bereft of spirit, of hope. It was Lily, living her deepest fear.

Lily faced her boggart. She was not afraid of getting dirty, of getting hurt; she was not even afraid of fighting and dying, not really. And yet the figure stood before her, injured and alone and full of despair, and she knew it for what it truly was: she was afraid of facing the uncertainty of war alone, of losing hope--of losing everything, especially her magic.

Taking in a slow but shaky breath, Lily kept her wand trained on the boggart, her arm surprisingly steady. When she tried to cast the spell, however, nothing happened. What could possibly be funny about war? About stepping into the world as a Muggleborn when Muggleborns were disappearing and dying, victims of hatred and prejudice? How could she possibly laugh at such a future when it looked so bleak at times? When defeat was such a dark possibility?

Lily was not one to lose hope easily, but at rare times she felt it slipping. She felt alone. She knew it would be dangerous out there for her, and she would have no one to turn to, no one to run with if she lost everything. Her parents were Muggles and going home--giving up the magical world--would only put them in danger. She had lost her best friend years ago to Dark magic, and her two closest friends in Gryffindor were purebloods who would not have to face the same prejudices, the same threats that she already knew at Hogwarts. Even James was a pureblood with friends, family, and money that would see him safe from the war.

She had nothing, not even a simple spell to banish a boggart.

The boggart-Lily reached out toward her, and Lily felt an icy calm as it approached. She did not know what would happen if it touched her: would it attack her, drive her mad, kill her? At that moment, she didn't care; she was tired of this figure, this vision of defeat. Reaching out, her heart racing in anticipation, Lily faced the only future she knew.

* * *

James rubbed bleary eyes and glanced up at the clock in the Gryffindor common room: it was after midnight, and they had class first thing in the morning. Nudging Sirius, who had fallen face first into a book on advanced charms, James mumbled something he hoped sounded like, "Get up, Padfoot."

Sirius grunted back.

Too tired to try again, James began to gather the books and papers he'd spread out over the table. He had almost finished his Patronus essay, and Sirius had tried to help him with the charm up in the dormitory. And yet time and time again only a pale grey cloud had floated from the tip of his wand to hover aimlessly next to Sirius's great silver dog, until James had sighed (and sworn) in resignation: he had failed again.

It was frustrating. He had always been able to get things done, whether by luck, talent, or hard work (which few people credited him with, but he did have to work hard at things like Potions.) Yet here was something he could not do, and he hated it. Why couldn't he conjure anything more than silver dust? Remus had tried to help him as well and had said James probably just hadn't found the right happy memory to conjure a corporeal Patronus. Which was equally as frustrating, because James did not feel unhappy…not really.

He had a good life: he knew that. He was well-off and well-loved. He had happy memories from childhood, even better memories of his best friends from school: why did none of them work, then? It was as if it weren't enough, that amazing trip to the dragon preserve in Wales when he was eight, or that unforgettable night in Hogsmeade when him and Sirius had stayed out all night playing cards at the Hog's Head, only to be chased down the street laughing when Aberforth had finally realized who they were…

No, something was missing. He felt it more and more as the year progressed. Maybe it was the responsibility of being Head Boy weighing on him, maybe it was the pressure of N.E.W.T.s and an uncertain future outside Hogwarts: yet neither explained why he felt unsatisfied and alone, even with so many friends, so many memories.

At times he thought he knew what the answer was, and yet he pulled away from it, from her. She was just a dream, a teenage fancy, someone he tried to distance himself from because he refused to believe that love was either the reason or the answer to his problems. He couldn't let himself think about her like that anymore; it was a futile hope, and he refused to give in. He was probably just overwhelmed with work and responsibility and the prospect of going out into a world increasingly torn apart by war…but he wasn't unhappy, was he?

Either way, he couldn't call upon a good memory with enough conviction to make the spell work properly, and he hated not being able to do something--he hated failing. He was determined to get it before N.E.W.T.s no matter what it took, because he needed it, and not just for the exams. There was a war on, and he knew he would be swept into it. He hated Dark magic: he would fight it every chance he had.

Kicking Sirius under the table again, James stood, but stopped as one of the girls from Lily's dormitory, Sandra, came running down the staircase in her bedclothes, looking frazzled but relieved to see someone in the common room.

"James!" she gasped. "Thank Merlin you're still up. Lily's not back yet, and I'm worried."

He frowned. "She said she was going to study in the prefect's lounge."

"But it's past midnight, and she's always back by curfew," Sandra insisted.

"Maybe she fell asleep," muttered Sirius, lifting his head and running a hand through his hair. He glanced around with groggy eyes. "Easy enough with all this work we've got." He yawned and stretched.

"Could you check on her?" asked Sandra, still sounding anxious. "She really wanted to work on the boggart spell, and if she found one but couldn't manage it alone…" She trailed off, since none of them were really sure what happened when you faced a boggart and failed to banish it. James nodded, suddenly much more awake.

"Of course," he said, making sure he had his wand and the Marauder's Map tucked into his pocket. "I can be out after curfew. I'll run down there and see if she's just fallen asleep."

"Thank you, James," Sandra replied. "I'll wait up for you."

"And I'll keep you company," offered Sirius, trying to sound gallant but still sounding half-asleep. "Go rescue the Head Girl, Prongs. But hurry up, it's late."

James nodded as he left the common room. He was glad the Fat Lady was asleep and didn't even stir as he stepped quietly out of the portrait hole. Turning a corner, he took out the map and tapped it, searching quickly for the small dot that identified Lily. And there she was, still in the prefect's lounge, probably asleep, just like Sirius said. He sighed as he set off for the fifth floor.

As he neared the lounge, however, a bad feeling started to come over him. What had Sandra said about Lily wanting to find a boggart? Lily had told him the same thing as well. What if she had found one? What if she had tried to face it alone? She could be injured, or worse. He ran down the hallway as fast as he could, dreading what he might find. Shouting the password to the lounge, he burst through the door, stopping short at the sight before him.

Lily stood in the center of the room, facing…herself. But this second figure was dark and disheveled, green eyes full of grief as it held out its hand toward the real Lily. Without evening thinking, he yelled her name, and both figures turned toward him--one in surprise, one in despair. He ran toward them, waving his arms and hoping to get the boggart's attention.

He did. The creature swirled into a million pieces, then coalesced into the form of his deepest fear. Tonight it was a cloud of silver fluff, and with a flash of irritation, he recognized it as the Patronus spell that he couldn't cast. Failure. Yet his determination to protect Lily was strong, and he knew how to defeat the boggart, even if he couldn't produce a real Patronus.

He raised his wand and cried, "Ridikkulus!" The shapeless silver cloud became an absurd caricature of a prince batting away the mist, dressed in doublet and hose, a foppish hat, and glasses. James couldn't help it, because it worked every time: he grinned, and with a resounding crack, the boggart disappeared.

Breathing heavily, James turned to Lily, only to find her staring at the spot where the creature had stood. He was both rattled and relieved and almost couldn't help his harsh response.

"What the hell, Evans?" he said, running a hand through his hair as he pocketed his wand. "What were you thinking, going up against it by yourself? I said I would help you."

Whirling around, she glared at him fiercely. "I can handle it, Potter. Back off."

"No, you can't," he said, standing his ground. "You were about to touch it, Lily. You were completely mesmerized." He paused and tried to soften his voice. "What was it, exactly?"

"None of your damn business," she said, but he noticed that her hands were shaking, so he stepped toward her, reaching out hesitantly. When she didn't move away, he pulled her into an embrace and rubbed her back, feeling her heart race against his chest.

"What are you so afraid of that you can't get this?" he murmured. "You've always been the strongest, bravest girl I know."

She wasn't crying, which proved his point. Yet she didn't answer, not right away. Finally she stepped back and glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. "I'm afraid of leaving, of the future, of what's out there."

He shook his head, confused. "It's bad, I know, but you'll be fine. You'll get all your N.E.W.T.s and find a great job and--"

"No," she said, waving her hand in the air and turning away. "I'm not afraid of exams or finding a job. I'm not even afraid of the war, not exactly."

"Then what is it?" he asked softly. She was very still, her back toward him, and he could barely hear her response.

"I'm afraid of being alone, of losing hope--losing everything, including magic." She turned toward him, and now there were tears in her eyes. "What if he wins, James? What kind of world would that be for someone like me?"

"Someone smart and talented and stronger than she thinks?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I think you'd manage just fine."

"No, you don't understand!" she said. "I'm a Muggleborn, James. It's bad enough here at Hogwarts now, but out there it will be worse. And I can deal with that, I can …but what if it never ends? What if You-Know-Who wins?" She threw herself down onto the sofa. "I can't go back to the Muggle world--my sister hates me, and it would just put my parents in danger. And I love the magical world too much to leave. But if he wins, I might end up like…like her, and that terrifies me."

"He won't win," James replied, sitting down next to her. "The Ministry is doing the best they can, and there are others fighting back, too. You can't lose hope, Lily."

"I haven't, not really," she sighed heavily, falling back against the cushions. "I'm just afraid that I will. That he'll just keep growing stronger, that I'll be alone and lose everything--"

"You won't be alone," he said firmly.

"But what if--" she started, and he stopped her.

"You won't. I'll be there for you, no matter what happens. I'll fight for you." He almost reached out to take her hand, but stopped. "I promise."

She just gazed silently at him, a slightly stunned look on her face. He wasn't sure what had moved him to say it, but it was true: he would. He couldn't bear the thought of her vibrant personality beat down by war, her life destroyed by despair. He wouldn't let that happen: she was too strong, even if she didn't know it.

She stared at him so long he started to grow embarrassed. Finally he stood and offered his hand to help her up. She took it, squeezing gently. "Thank you, James. For what you did… what you said."

"I meant it," he replied, helping her pack up her books and parchment. "And we'll figure out the spell, too, so you believe me."

"I believe you," she murmured. "I guess I just don't believe in myself right now."

He wasn't sure how to reply to that and was silent. They finished cleaning up and left the lounge together, walking side-by-side down the hallway. James felt like something had changed between them, but he wasn't sure what. And he certainly wasn't sure if she felt it.

"James, what was your boggart?" she asked. He glanced at her in surprise, and she stuttered a bit. "If…if you don't mind me asking, that is."

He shook his head ruefully. "No, I don't mind. You saw it. I wish I could say my greatest fear was something more normal, like spiders or snakes, but it's not."

"So you're afraid of…rain?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

"No, of failing," he finished for her. "Of not being able to do something. Feeling powerless." He laughed somewhat bitterly. "Which is why this damn Patronus Spell is driving me mad. I should be able to do it, but I can't. All I get is that wispy silver cloud, and that's not going to save me in a dark alley unless a sandstorm pops up."

"So that's what it was, back there? Your Patronus?"

He nodded. "My lack of a corporeal Patronus. It obviously represents what I'm most worried about right now. For O.W.L.s it was a bit different--a botched Quaffle play, which I think Flitwick found a bit shallow, but I've always known what it meant, no matter its form."

Lily was quiet as she appeared to think about what he had said. He'd never really shared that with anyone and wasn't sure why he had just told her, but he had. It was out there now, and hopefully she wouldn't hold it against him.

"How do you make it funny?" she asked, sounding both curious and sad. "That's what I don't understand, how our deepest fear can be defeated by laughter."

"It's not about just laughing at our fear," James said. "It's about seeing it differently, so that it's not as frightening. Then you can laugh. When a boggart shows me failure, in any shape or form, I feel an incredible determination to win, to succeed. So I imagine a…well, you saw," he coughed in embarrassment. "I picture myself as a prince from all the stories my mum told me growing up. You know the type--tall, strong, and proud, bravely fighting back the darkness. And they always win in the stories. It's the most ridiculous image I can think of, me as a stuffy prince," he laughed, just imagining it, "and so it always works. Not that princes can't fail, but I really can't see myself in tights."

Lily smiled at him. "It's brilliant, if a bit self-depracating," she said. "I think you'd make a good prince."

He stuck out his tongue. "No thank you. Most of them were dull, pompous idiots, except for the one who got lost in a maze--do you know that story?"

"I know lots of stories about princes and princesses," she said, shaking her head. "But they're probably quite different from yours--Muggle stories, after all."

"The only one I ever liked was the one where the prince had to fight his way through a maze to find a princess under a spell in the center, and--"

"--and he had to wake her with a kiss?" Lily finished. He nodded. "We have that one too, although there wasn't a maze. The castle was surrounded by thorns."

"Ouch," he murmured, and she laughed.

"And there was a dragon," she continued, and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Best part," he said. "That's why I actually liked that one--the dragon, the maze, the kiss, the…" he trailed off as he noticed something he had never seen before: a large set of double doors at the end of what had always been a dead-end corridor.

"The what?" asked Lily, following his eye. Then she noticed the doorway. "Where did that come from?" she asked.

"I have no idea," he replied as he walked up to the doors. Pulling out the map and forgetting that Lily had no idea of its existence, he quickly found their small dots in the sixth floor corridor. They should be facing a blank wall, as there was nothing on the map to show any room there…yet clearly the doors before them went somewhere. James felt a curious excitement begin to build.

"What's that?" asked Lily, looking over his arm at the map. "Is that a--"

"It's a map of the castle," James replied absently, still staring at the doors. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he'd heard or read about secret rooms at Hogwarts…

"It has people on it!" she exclaimed.

"Well, yes, it's a magical map," he replied, folding it up and tucking it away. "And those doors are not on it. I've never seen them before, have you?"

She turned back to the doors, moving closer as if she were as curious as he. "I haven't, no. I'm sure there haven't been doors here before."

"I'm positive," James said. They were close enough for him to run his hands over the dark wood, traced with a complicated design of swirls and knots. "I'm also fascinated." He turned to her with a grin. "Want to see what's inside?"

Lily's eyes widened. "James! It's the middle of the night. It's past curfew, and I'm already exhausted. Let's come back tomorrow."

"It might not be here tomorrow," he replied. "Not if it's magical. It'll probably be gone by morning."

She still seemed hesitant. "What if it's dangerous?" she asked. He gave her a glib grin as he took out his wand.

"It's in the castle, so it can't be that bad," he replied. "But if it is, then you cast your Patronus, and I'll take care of the boggarts. Deal?"

And finally she nodded, a slow smile creeping onto her face. "All right. I just hope it's not a magical toilet."

James laughed as he pulled open the doors and stepped into the mysterious room, Lily by his side.

* * *

Part Two

They stepped into a large room: at least, it felt large because James couldn't see the ceiling. He guessed it was probably enchanted, like the ceiling in the Great Hall, but he still gazed upward in wonder before glancing around the rest of the room.

He couldn't see much else, however, for directly before them stood a wall that rose to three times his height and stretched sideways into darkness. There was a large opening right before them that appeared to branch off to the right and the left. Puzzled, James glanced at Lily, but she seemed to get it.

"It's a maze," she murmured, and with a start he realized she was right. They had somehow stumbled upon a maze in the heart of Hogwarts. He could imagine the walls before him spreading out into the room, twisting and turning, and felt a prickle of excitement: this was something new, something exciting. Something he and the others had never discovered--something he could do, rather than continuously working on spells he couldn't cast.

"Want to try it?" he asked, speaking softly in fear of disturbing…what, he did not know. But the strange room felt so vast he did not wish to hear his own voice echo back at him and confirm it. To his disappointment, Lily shook her head.

"I do, but it's so late, James. We should go. We can come back tomorrow night, if you want."

"It might not be here tomorrow night," James pointed out, knowing it was true. He had been at Hogwarts for seven years and not once come across a magical room with a wooden maze; he highly doubted it would be there the next day and did not want to miss the chance to explore it.

"Of course it will," Lily said. "Rooms don't just disappear."

"Why not? It's a magical castle. Have you ever heard of the Come-and-Go room?" She shook her head. "It's a room that comes and goes, just like it's name. Maybe this is it."

"Maybe," she replied, sounding skeptical. "But where does it go when it's not here?"

"I have no idea," he said. "But I've been all over this castle and have never seen this room, not here, not anywhere. I think we need to take the opportunity and explore a bit. Who knows, maybe there's a reason we found it tonight."

"I really doubt it," she said, stifling a yawn, and James could see she really was tired. He, on the other hand, felt energized: he might just stay and wander around on his own if she left. He started thinking about what spells he would need to navigate the maze, particularly a magical maze. If it was anything like the stories he had heard growing up, there would be trials to face…

"Let's go," Lily was saying, and she turned back toward the exit. "We can try again tomor--" She stopped abruptly, and James whirled to see what had happened.

The doors had shut behind them, and in fine, glowing script a message had appeared in the wood:

Whomever dares to enter here
Will many lessons learn,
Both spiritual and magical.
Step forth, bold Heads, and raise your wands,
For it is now your turn.

"Oh my." Lily stared at the door with her mouth hanging open. James felt an almost otherworldly shiver across his neck; it was as if the message were meant just for them, and for some reason, that made him more apprehensive about entering the maze.

"I'm sure we can still leave if we want to," he said, noting the look on Lily's face. Yet even as he said it, she turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"But it appears we're not supposed to," she said. "Maybe you were right, and there is a reason we found this room tonight."

"Oh, I doubt it," he said. "I was just saying that so you'd try it with me."

"Change your mind, then?" she asked, cocking her head with a small yet challenging smile. He narrowed his eyes at her and grinned.

"Not a chance. Let's go."

They stepped up to the entrance of the maze and faced their first decision: whether to turn right or left. Both ways looked exactly the same: a long corridor with a stone floor, wooden walls branching off into darkness and who knew what twists and turns. James took out his wand.

"Right," he said.

"Left," said Lily.

They laughed, and James turned to the left, leading the way. Lily inclined her head in thanks as she lit her wand and they set off into the darkness, following the maze as it wove its way back and forth. Occasionally they would hit a dead end and turn back, trying to work their way through the complicated pathways, only to find they had changed.

"So what do you think this really is?" James asked quietly as they walked. "Who put it here and why hasn't anyone ever heard of it?"

"Maybe it's some sort of test," Lily replied. "That everyone keeps secret once they've taken it."

James snorted. "Or maybe we won't remember any of it when we're done."

"No, the message on the door said we'd learn lessons both spiritual and magical, so I think we'll remember." She was silent for a moment. "Maybe it just doesn't appear that often."

"I wonder why it appeared now?" he asked.

"You were talking about mazes," Lily pointed out. He stopped and gave her a surprised look.

"That's right, I was. So maybe this is the Come and Go Room. It's said to turn into whatever you want it to be."

"I doubt it," Lily said, sounding skeptical. "This seems more purposeful, somehow. Like it's always here, but doesn't appear until the right person shows up at the right time."

"And apparently we're the right people," James replied. "I wonder why."

A low growl stopped him in his tracks, and Lily bumped into him from behind before she could answer. "What was that?" she whispered. They heard it again, and James felt gooseflesh break out on his arms.

"It's a werewolf," he said, his voice grim.

"What?" she asked. "How do you know that? And what would a werewolf be doing in the castle?"

"I have no idea, especially since it's not the full moon," James said, moving forward carefully. "But I'd recognize the sound of one anywhere."

"Why, are you a werewolf?" she asked, her wand out before her. "Is that where you disappear each month?" She turned and stared at him as she said it. "Good Godric, are you?"

He shook his head and continued slowly as another howl ripped the air. "No, of course not. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," she said, but he could tell she was trying to sound brave.

"You should be. They're dangerous."

"Maybe it's not real," she suggested. Another low snarl and the sound of padding feet stopped her. "No, that sounds real. Maybe we should go another way." But when she turned around, the corridor behind them had shifted, and the only way forward was they way they were going.

"Stay behind me," James murmured, but she stood beside him as they turned the next corner and found the werewolf prowling back and forth across the corridor, blocking their way forward.

"Holy Helga," said Lily. "It's a real werewolf."

James blew out his breath. "Or a very good imitation of one."

"What do we do?" Lily whispered. "I'd say run but there's nowhere to run."

Before he could answer, the beast turned, snarled, and charged toward them.

They both fired Stunners: one missed and the other barely stopped it. Lily cast an Impedimenta Curse, but the werewolf leapt into the air, and the spell flew past its ear as it landed with its paws on James's chest, teeth flashing before his face.

He reacted on pure, gut-level instinct: he changed into a stag as the slavering jaws tried to bite, narrowing missing his very human neck. The beast shifted clumsily on top of him, and he easily threw it off, standing on four legs and lowering his head to charge. The beast ran at him first, and he was vaguely aware of Lily casting another spell to try and stop it, but they crashed together anyway, teeth gnashing, hooves and paws flailing, until he finally managed to throw it off once more. It had drawn blood on his leg, however, and he stood unsteadily as he faced it again.

A Full-Body Bind curse from Lily stopped the beast in its tracks and sent it tumbling awkwardly to its side, legs frozen awkwardly in the air. He turned toward Lily, limping forward...but she backed away, shaking her head.

"Stay away," she said, eyes wide. "Or I'll curse you too."

Changing back, James found himself on his knees, his leg burning, but his chest heaving with unexpected laughter. Why he was laughing, he had no idea, but the incredulous look on Lily's face had a good deal to do with it. He had never imagined telling anyone his secret, yet alone revealing it to Lily Evans in such a spectacular way. It was obvious she was shocked, as she waved her wand around and tried to speak, and her reaction filled him with more laughter.

"What the hell, Potter?" she finally managed. He stood somewhat gingerly and glanced down at the long scratch on his leg. He knew from experience it wasn't bad, nor would it infect him; yet it stung like mad, so he cast a quick pain-relief spell on it before facing her.

"That would be Prongs," he said. He didn't grin, even though he wanted to; he knew this was actually a very important moment for her.

"Prongs?" she repeated. "Are you serious?"

"No, just James," he replied, unable to resist a small smile. "I'm--"

"An Animagus." She shook her head and swore again. "No one knows, do they? Except your friends."

"Not even my dad," he said, growing earnest. "Look, I'm sorry you had to find out that way, but it was just instinct. I hardly thought about it, I just…changed, to stop it."

"You fought a werewolf," she breathed, her voice still higher than usual. "How did you know it wouldn't kill you?"

"They're not as big of a threat to animals as they are to humans." He shrugged, because he knew it was true, having experienced it every month for three years.

"How did you know?" she pushed, and he grimaced, because he obviously couldn't tell her; it wasn't his secret to tell.

"Read it in class," he mumbled. "Lily, are you all right? Did it hurt you?"

She was looking at him so differently he wasn't sure what to think. "I'm fine. Just…a bit shocked, that's all. And that binding spell won't last forever."

"Right." James turned toward the fallen werewolf and raised his wand. He Stunned it in the forehead, then bound its hand and feet with white ropes. He knew it wasn't Remus, yet couldn't help but feel a tiny spot of guilt for doing such a thing to the creature. "We can't have it following us," he said to Lily, turning back to her.

"Of course," she said, then abruptly set off back down the path they had been following. James sighed; once again things had changed between them, and he wasn't sure if it was for the better. He was beginning to regret exploring the maze after all.

* * *

Lily tried to calm her racing heart. James Potter was an Animagus. A stag. Prongs. The thrill of finally knowing what his nickname meant was second only to the shock of seeing him change before her eyes. She had watched Professor McGonagall transform into her Animagus form in class, but the sight of James going down under the gigantic paws of a werewolf only to morph into a large stag was nothing compared to that. It was jaw-dropping.

He walked silently behind her, and she could almost feel how upset he was, his disappointment in her stunned reaction. Coming to another split in the maze, she finally stopped and turned toward him. Hazel eyes met hers, begging for understanding and forgiveness.

"Lily--" he started, but she stopped him.

"No, it's all right," she said. "Really. I'm just…shaken, that's all. It's not something I expected--you being a large forest animal and all. I mean, it's a hell of a secret, James."

"Yes," he replied, and she saw the glimmer of a grin on his face. "It is. But I'm glad you know. Maybe you'll stop bothering me about Prongs now." She rolled her eyes, and he grew more serious. "And I hope you won't say anything. I'm not registered, and I don't want to get in trouble for it."

"How long have you been one?" she asked, now growing curious. And to her surprise, he blushed in the light of their wands.

"Since fifth year." He shrugged. "It's no big deal, it's just me…and very secret."

"It is a big deal!" she exclaimed. "It's powerful magic. The Animagus spell is incredibly difficult--you heard McGonagall lecturing about it last year."

"She's right," he murmured. "It was hard, that's for sure."

"It's really amazing," she continued. "You should show her. You'd get an Outstanding in your Transfiguration N.E.W.T.s for sure. You probably wouldn't have to sit the written exam at all."

"I'm not telling her," said James, his voice firm. "And neither are you. It's just something I can do. Can we please get back to the maze? I have a feeling that wasn't the first test we'll face."

"Test?" she asked, and now he grinned.

"Of course. Haven't you figured it out?" When she shook her head, slightly annoyed, he coughed and tried not to rub it in. "All good stories with a maze have tests in them--trials. And the note on the door said we're supposed to learn something from this."

"So what did we just learn?" she asked dryly.

"You know I'm an Animagus," he said. "You know what my nickname means now."

"Prongs, because you're a stag…" She trailed off as she realized something. Her Patronus was a doe. Was that what he had been referring to, back in the prefects' lounge when she had first told him, and he had brushed it off as a coincidence?

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as he glanced around.

She smiled at him and almost reached up to brush some dirt from his face. "Nothing. Just a coincidence, I'm sure."

"A coincidence," he repeated, gazing into her eyes. "Right. Must be." He knew what she was referring to, but what did it mean, if anything?

"Come on, let's go this way," he murmured, taking her hand and leading her toward the right hand path. She glanced down at their intertwined fingers and smiled; it actually felt nice to hold hands with James.

They turned a corner and found themselves twisting and turning through the maze once more. James was silent. Lily wanted to talk, but she wasn't sure what say. They were still holding hands; maybe that was enough.

"So about that coincidence," James finally said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Yes?" she asked, wondering what he might ask.

"Well, what's the trick?" She didn't understand. "To producing a corporeal Patronus? Sirius tried his damnedest to help me earlier, but it was no use."

Lily shook her head. "I don't know. It's a difficult charm, that's for sure. I'm surprised Armitage is teaching it. Half the class still doesn't have it, so you're not alone."

He gave her a very self-deprecating look. "I don't want to be in that company. I want to be in the other half. With you." He paused and gave her a grin. "You know what I mean. What's the trick? What does it take that I'm not getting?"

She thought about what she had written earlier in her essay, and how she had conjured her own Patronus in class. "Do you have any happy memories that you focus on?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Of course I do. I have all sorts of great memories from growing up, from Hogwarts…but nothing seems to work." He sighed and shook his head. "It's like they're not enough, or I haven't found the right one."

"Perhaps," she replied. "I won't tell you that you haven't found the right one, but maybe it's more about really feeling it, believing in it. Or maybe you don't need a specific memory, but just something in general that makes you happy in a…well, an all- encompassing way. A feeling of happiness so big it fills you every time."

"I don’t understand," he said, and he looked completely confused. Lily took out her wand.

"Here, let me show you." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. For all her fears, she was always able to focus on the deep thread of happiness that wound its way through her soul: she was a witch. She had magic. She had spent years feeling different, while odd things happened around her, and then she had discovered a whole new world, full of people like her casting spells, flying on broomsticks, popping in and out of fireplaces. It was who she truly was, and that thought brought forth her Patronus. It was probably why her greatest fear involved losing that in some way.

As a silver doe burst forth and hovered in the air before her, she wondered why James Potter could not conjure the same strength of feeling, particularly when he had so easily defeated the boggart, as well as mastered the Animagus spell as a fifth-year. She had a sneaking suspicion of what his Patronus might materialize as, but he needed to channel something into it first. Why couldn't he tap into a happy memory that was strong enough?

"What's your memory?" he asked softly, gazing at the doe in wonder, and she told him, just as he had shared his boggart with her. He nodded slowly.

"I don't have anything like that," he said. "I've always known I was a wizard."

"But there must be something that inspires a similar feeling," Lily said, waving her Patronus away. "It doesn't have to be a special day, a specific event. It's just something--anything--that fills you with happiness."

He still looked skeptical, so she stepped closer and this time laid a hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb along his rough chin and ignoring the urge to run it along his lips. "You're a really powerful wizard, James. If you can turn yourself into a stag, you can do this." She stepped back with what she hoped was an encouraging smile; inside, her heart was racing from their brief contact. "Do you want to try?"

He looked slightly gobsmacked at her words and didn't respond right away. "No, but thanks for the vote of confidence." He touched his face where her hand had been. "Let's keep going. If we run into any Dementors, I'll do my best."

"Dementors?" she frowned as they continued. "You don't really think we'll see any of those in here, do you?"

"Probably not," he said. A dead end forced them to turn around. "But there could be something else that needs that spell."

She tried to think of what else might require a Patronus Charm, when they turned another corner, and a shiver ran down her spine. She raised her wand higher, for it seemed darker somehow, and the blackness felt thicker, colder. "James, something's wrong."

"Get closer," he murmured, his own wand raised. "And have that charm ready."

She started to move toward him, but an inky blackness rose up behind them and surrounded her, instantly suffocating her as her wand clattered to the ground. She collapsed, unable to breathe as she felt the edges of consciousness slip away…

* * *

James whirled around to find Lily…gone. Or rather, she was completely enveloped by a murky black shadow, like a cloak that had swallowed her whole. His first impulse was to fire a Stunner, but much like the werewolf, it had little effect. Neither did the other three spells he tried, and he didn't want to hurt Lily with anything else.

It was a Lethifold, and there was only one spell that would stop it: the one spell he couldn't cast.

Yet Lily had said he was strong, that he could do it. She had reached up and touched his face and smiled at him, and in that moment he had been filled with something indescribable. Happiness, maybe? It had certainly made his heart jump in his chest, and not with fear, but with that intense feeling of attraction and longing that he had been trying to ignore for so long.

Hope filled him, hope for a future where maybe, just maybe, he would find love, where he wouldn't be alone…where he might even be with Lily Evans. It wasn't happiness, exactly, but it was faith in her words and trust in the touch of her hand. Raising his wand, he stepped forward and cried out the spell with conviction.

"Expecto Patronum!" It felt different: he knew it came from deep within him, filling him just as Lily had said it should. There was no doubt anymore, just confidence filling him with a sense of satisfaction he had not felt in a long time, a profound happiness that was so very different than simply remembering good times with family and friends. He could do it: he wasn't a failure.

A silver stag slowly flowed from the tip of his wand. The Lethifold reared up; waving his wand forward, the stag moved toward it, and the Dark creature made an unearthly screeching sound as it backed away. The stag butted its head at the shadow, and it let go of Lily, who lay gasping on the floor. With one more charge, the Patronus forced the Lethifold back, and it slithered away, screaming in pain.

James stared after it, unable to believe what had just happened. Lethifolds were amoung the Darkest and most dangerous magical creatures out there, and it had just attacked them in the middle of Hogwarts. If he was supposed to master the Patronus Charm in the maze, it was an awfully dangerous way to learn such a lesson.

Hurrying over to Lily, he helped her sit up. She was cold and gasping for breath, and he wrapped his arms around her just as he had in the prefects' lounge. Yes, he had just saved her from a Lethifold, but he couldn't have done it without her. She was the reason he had been able to do it: her touch, her belief in him. In that moment, it had filled him with such strong happiness that he could have beat back ten of the creatures. He wanted to sit there forever with her.

Lily was slowly getting her breath back as she pulled away and stared into his face, wide-eyed. "You did it," she said. "You cast the charm."

Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, he gave her a crooked grin; really, he wanted to kiss her, he was suddenly so inexplicably happy, just to be there with her, knowing that she was safe, and that she believed in him. "Only thanks to you," he replied, and she shook her head.

"I didn't do anything," she said. "I just prattled on about it. You must have found what you needed."

Glancing upward, he shrugged in embarrassment. "You helped me find it. I couldn't have done it without you. Literally."

She unexpectedly threw her arms around his neck. "No, thank you," she whispered near his ear. "It was awful, feeling it smothering me and not being able to do anything." She pulled back and shuddered. "Why did we come in here again?"

"To learn," he said with a slightly bitter laugh. "Obviously the hard way."

"First a werewolf, then a Lethifold." He helped her to stand, albeit somewhat shakily. "I wonder what will be next?"

James had a pretty good idea of what might be next, but he didn't want to say anything and make her more worried. Instead, he took her hand once more. "Are you all right? Can you walk? The sooner we get going, the sooner we can get out of here."

"Yes, I'm ready." She nodded and squeezed his hand. "Thanks again, James. Let's finish this."

And so they set off, hand in hand once more. James still felt that same strange contentment and forced himself to acknowledge what it was: it wasn't just what Lily had said, or that she had touched his face. No, it was Lily herself, and everything about her that he had been denying all year. She was the one who inspired such deep feelings in him. She had for years, but he had given up, denied it, and distanced himself from it until he had lost any sense of contentment whatsoever. He had accepted her as his failure.

Glancing down at their hands, he knew he would always have these moments in the maze to draw on when he needed to cast the charm, even if he didn't have her.

But there was hope for that too, he decided with a smile.

* * *

Lily knew what the next trial would be, what they--or she--was supposed to learn. She had a feeling that James knew it as well, only he was too kind to say anything. Yet if that was what appeared around the next corner, she needed to be ready. She needed to face it. James had cast a Patronus; she needed to banish her boggart.

"James?" she finally asked. "You know what's next, don't you?"

"Could be anything," he said casually. But she could tell now, somehow, from the tone of his voice that he didn't really believe it.

"It'll be a boggart," she said, and he glanced sideways at her with a sigh.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Which means I need to learn how to banish it. Now."

James was quiet as they stopped at another split in the maze. Neither one of them moved. He finally pointed right with a questioning look; she shrugged in reply, and they continued through the labyrinth toward whatever was waiting for them.

"James," she repeated. "How do I turn my deepest fear into something else? Something I can smile and laugh at?"

"Bollocks, Lily, I don't know," he said, sounding frustrated. "I've been thinking about it over and over, and all I can think of is to try what I do and throw a story at it."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused and curious.

"Well, I grew up with those ridiculous stories of princes and princesses, so when I face a boggart, that's what makes me laugh. Are there any stories that make you laugh?"

She shook her head. "No, I loved fairy tales growing up. Especially certain ones--Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Rapunzel were always my favorites."

"But all of them?" he persisted. "Were there any that made you roll your eyes?"

"Well, yes," she said, nodding. "I didn't really like fairy stories. They always struck me as too fanciful."

He gave her a dry look. "Only fairies are more real than a princess locked in a tower."

"I know!" She laughed at his reaction. "Believe me, the first time I saw a fairy at Hogwarts--right as I walked into the Great Hall, actually--I just about jumped out of my skin. And then I laughed, because they're really quite beautiful, if rather silly and vain…" She trailed off as she thought about what she had just said.

James squeezed her hand. "I think you just solved your boggart problem, Evans."

She nodded slowly: it made sense, and she knew she had to at least try it. If it didn't work, James was there, and his foppish prince could always step forward should she fail.

Yet, she didn't think she would. She grinned just thinking about it--the ridiculous image of a Muggle fairy, so very different than the real creatures she'd experienced at Hogwarts. If she could somehow think clearly enough to force the boggart into that shape, she'd burst into laughter and banish it for sure.

A strange sound interrupted her thoughts, a raspy hissing and crackling. The floor started to shake beneath them; the air grew warmer. Instinctively, they both slowed down.

"Maybe it's not a boggart," James murmured, stepping cautiously forward with his wand raised.

"But that's my lesson," Lily whispered. "It has to be."

"Does that sound like your boggart?" he whispered back as a soft rumble reached their ears. She stared at him, her heart thumping, and shook her head.

"No." The sound was louder, more of a deep growl now, and Lily felt gooseflesh break out on her arms as they came to a corner. A bright light was flickering from around the turn. "It sounds more like a…" She couldn't say it; they turned the corner, and he did.

"A dragon."

* * *

Part Three

A large cavernous room opened before them; on either side was a dark corridor leading back into the maze. As if it were guarding the way forward, a large red dragon filled the room, pacing impatiently. It didn't appear to be a full-grown dragon; James wasn't even certain it was a real dragon at all and not some magic of the room. Yet after the werewolf and the Lethifold, he knew that it could be just as dangerous, just as capable of hurting them--or worse. And because he had never paid much attention in Care of Magical Creatures, he really had no idea what to do.

"This is where we might try turning around again," he murmured. Lily gaped at him, glanced down the maze at the way they had come, and shook her head.

"Can't," she said. "I think it's blocked now."

"Brilliant," said James, still staring at the massive beast. "Any ideas, then?"

"Do you have a sword?" she asked with a slightly hysterical edge to her voice. "That's how Muggles defeat them, with swords."

"I'll check my robes," he replied dryly. "Damn--I left it in the dormitory."

Lily let out a nervous laugh, which unfortunately drew the beast's attention before she could cover her mouth. Even at half-size it was too large for the room and turned slowly and awkwardly. It roared and blew a blast of fire at them. James threw up a Shield Charm he hoped would stop it as Lily pulled him away from the opening and back behind the wall.

They stood side-by-side, breathing heavily as flames shot through the opening. James glanced down and saw that his wand arm had been slightly scorched. "At least we know how to get its attention," he remarked with a wince, and she gave him another wide-eyed look.

"Don't make me laugh," she said. "Now what do we do?"

"I already asked that," he replied.

"And I suggested a sword," she said.

"I don't carry it every day," he snapped back. "Only on special occasions."

"This is a special occasion!" she exclaimed, and now he couldn't help but burst out laughing in spite of the danger they were in. She quickly joined him, and they slid down the wall laughing uncontrollably until they had caught their breath.

"If I had my cloak, maybe we could sneak past it," James said, thinking out loud.

"What cloak?" Lily asked. Another low grumble set his teeth on edge, and he could hear the dragon snuffling about the opening. Thankfully, it was too big to follow them, but they had to do something, or it might just cook them where they sat.

"Invisibility cloak," he said, reluctantly revealing his last secret. By the dim light of the maze he could see her eyes widen. "Yes, now you know everything. But it's in my trunk, so it's not going to help us."

"If we want to sneak past it, then we could just use a Disillusionment Charm," Lily suggested. "Then we could blend in with the wall as we walk by. We'd just have to be extra quiet so it doesn't hear us."

"I can take care of that," he replied. "But what if it smells us walking by? It sounds like it's sniffing for us. Know any anti-smelling spells?"

She giggled uncontrollably again. "Not really, but maybe we could distract it with something?"

"Such as?" he asked, thinking it might actually work.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The dragon roared; it was so close it was deafening. It also sounded frustrated, which meant they needed to move fast before it tore apart the maze looking for them.

"Got anything?" he asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

Her eyes flew open. "Yes." She conjured a small glass vial, then murmured a spell before stopping it up as quickly as she could. "I have no idea if this will work, but I tried to put a Fragrance Charm in here."

He nodded in immediate understanding. "Perfect. We throw that the opposite way we want to go, the dragon goes off to investigate, and we run for it."

"Exactly." She grinned. "We make a good team."

"Yes, we do." He grinned back. "All right, let's stay together. I know a spell to muffle the sound, but we should stay together so that we can still communicate. Can you Disillusion yourself?"

"Yes," she replied. "Ready?"

With another nod, James cast a Disillusionment Charm, and the strange feeling of ice water trickling over his head flowed down his body until he couldn't see himself anymore: he blended in with the darkness of the maze. When he glanced up, he couldn't see Lily either, and a split second of blind panic set in.

"Lily?" he whispered. "Are you still there?"

A hand groped about and found his. "I’m right here. What about your spell?"

James took her hand and murmured, "Muffliato." He could almost sense Lily nodding in understanding.

"That was one of Severus's spells, you know," she whispered, even though they were protected by the spell and the dragon could not hear them. "I should have thought of it."

"Why would you want to think of him?" James murmured back. He pulled a face he was glad she couldn't see at the thought of her former friendship with the Slytherin.

"I really don't anymore," she said, and he could feel her shrug, since he was still holding her hand. "Which is probably why I didn't."

"That's what I'm here for," James said. "With or without my sword."

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered, and he felt her step closer and kiss him on the cheek. It sent shivers down his back, and he instinctively turned his head toward her.

"Really?" he asked, but his words were jumbled as his face bumped into hers, and his lips touched her lips for the briefest of moments before he jumped back, dropping her hand and apologizing profusely. He wished he could see the look on her face to know whether she was as mortified as he imagined.

He heard a soft laugh not far from him; maybe she wasn't as upset as he suspected. "Really," she replied. "Now let's go."

"Right," he said, taking a deep breath and trying to put the memory of her warm lips from his mind. They had a dragon to defeat…well, sneak past, anyway. "Stay close. We can't see each other, but we're under the same silence bubble so we can hear each other."

He imagined her nodding. Taking her hand once more, they turned the corner and faced the dragon. It had moved back to the center of the room, growling to itself. It couldn't see or hear them, but it could obviously still smell them, for it turned immediately and roared. They began to edge slowly along the wall to the left.

"Now?" Lily asked, still keeping her voice low, but steady.

"Wait a few more steps, then throw it down the right hand passage so it goes that way," he murmured. They pressed their backs up against the wall and continued to move past the great body of the dragon, not six feet in front of them. James actually could feel the warmth of its skin when suddenly it whipped its head around and blew a stream of fire directly at them.

He wished he had done something more gallant, more Gryffindor, like throw himself in front of her to stop the blast with his bare hands, but all he could do was swear vehemently and pull Lily down hard enough for her to actually say, "Ow," as the flames blasted the wall above them. She let go of his hand and rubbed her shoulder.

"Sorry, but now would be a good time for your little homemade Dungbomb," he said urgently. He knew she had thrown the vial when it shattered with an explosive sound; apparently Lily had cast an Amplification Charm on it as well. The dragon turned toward it and immediately began lumbering away from them. James groped about for Lily's hand again, locking his fingers tight with hers as they stood. They ran quickly across the room and down the left hand passage. The dragon did not hear them, nor did it seem interested in their scent; it growled as it pawed around the floor opposite them. James did not want to stay and see how it responded to a foot full of broken glass.

A sudden roar sent him running even faster, Lily tumbling along behind him. They ran and ran, weaving their way through the maze as far away from the dragon as they could. They didn't stop even when they started breathing heavily; James just wanted to be done, to get out of the maze, and he sensed that Lily felt the same because she kept up with him and didn't say a word.

The maze grew dark and the sound of the dragon fell behind them. Gradually they slowed down and dropped the Disillusionment Charms, but kept a quick pace and didn't talk. It was as if through unspoken agreement they were determined to plow through to the end, still holding hands. And without warning they made it, turning the corner and bursting through a gap in the maze…

…only to find themselves in the very spot where they had started, facing the same oak doors they had entered what felt like hours ago.

* * *

Lily stared at the doors, relief flooding through her. She dropped James's hand and rushed forward, more than ready to be done with whatever lessons the maze was trying to teach them. She had faced a werewolf, been smothered by a Lethifold, and barely made it past a dragon: she wanted to leave. James, however, stayed behind, staring at the doors with a frown.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "We made it out. Let's go."

"Something's not right," he said, shaking his head. "It doesn't feel over. We didn't face a boggart."

Lily rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Then we'll just have to find one and practice, won't we? Come on."

She pushed the doors open and stepped through, but he still didn't follow. When she turned back, James had a look of panic on his face.

"I can't move!" he exclaimed, and she could see him struggling to move his legs, only they appeared locked in place. "It won't let me out. Lily--"

She didn't get to hear the rest of his sentence, because the doors slammed shut between them, leaving her alone on one side, and James stuck on the other. She pounded on the doors, but they were locked fast. She tried every spell she could think of to open them, but nothing worked. What if the doors disappeared? What if the maze went back to wherever it had been before they had found it, only with James trapped inside this time?

She needed help: she needed to get Professor McGonagall, or even the headmaster. Turning to run for assistance, she gasped to see that she was not, in fact, in the castle corridor, but back in the maze room, facing the same opening her and James had already entered. And standing there blocking the entrance to the maze was…

Her boggart.

"Hello, Lily," it said, sounding just like her. Lily gasped and stepped backward, bumping into the doors where the message had appeared, inviting them to enter the maze. There were no glowing letters now, and the doors still would not open. She would have to confront her boggart after all. Alone.

"I'm not scared of you anymore," she told it, but the dirty, broken vision of her deepest fear simply shook its head.

"Of course you are," it said. "You can't conquer your fears in one night. You only think you're not afraid anymore."

"I just faced a dragon, a werewolf, and a Lethifold," Lily said, trying to put as much courageous bluster into her voice as she could. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Everyone fears something," said the boggart. In the back of her mind, Lily wondered if boggarts could really talk; it was probably some special magic of the room that was enabling the conversation. Well, she had gone over this with James: she knew what to do and would not let the creature's words undo her newfound confidence.

"Fine," she said, nodding at the boggart. "I'm still scared. But I know something now, something that will help me banish you and accept my fear."

The boggart-Lily frowned. "You cannot change what you are," it said.

"I'm not alone," Lily replied. She was thinking of something James had said in the prefects' lounge, of what they had just been through in the maze together. "No matter what happens, I will never be you. I will never lose hope." She believed it, and it filled her with confidence to know it was true.

"We're Muggle-born," the boggart said, tears dripping down its face. "We're in more danger than anyone. If he wins, we will be alone. No one will help us. We will lose everything."

Lily took a deep breath. The thought of such a future still scared her, yes, but she could defeat it now. "You're wrong," she said, once again thinking of what James had told her. I'll be there for you, no matter what happens. I'll fight for you. I promise.

She believed him. He would be there for her, and they would fight together. The image of them laughing hysterically before they faced the dragon came to mind. They had done it, though: they had survived, and they would again. She grinned, raised her wand, and cried, "Riddikulus!"

The image before her transformed. Gone was lonely, despairing vision of the future she had feared to the point of being paralyzed by it time and time again. Instead, the boggart-Lily stood before her in a leafy green dress, white puffs dancing on the tips of tiny green slippers, hair knotted in a bun atop its head. There was a look of surprise on its face as it gazed over its shoulder at a pair of dainty gossamer wings. Then it turned to Lily, shook its head as if denying the truth…

…and exploded into a thousand tiny fairies that dissolved into nothingness.

Nodding to herself, Lily turned around and confidently opened the doors behind her. She was somehow not surprised to see James standing in the castle corridor with his wand raised. She ducked as a particularly powerful Blasting Curse sailed above her head, then stood slowly, arms raised in mock surrender.

"It's just me," she said. "Put your wand away."

"Bollocks, Lily--I wasn't expecting you to just stride right out." He had already pocketed his wand and was nervously shaking his head. "Are you all right? What the hell happened?"

Lily shrugged, a tired smile on her face. "You almost killed me, for one."

"I was trying to get in!" he exclaimed. "At first I was stuck in the maze room, then the next thing I know the doors slam shut between us, and I'm back out here, locked out."

Lily felt the adrenaline flow from her in a sudden, dizzying rush. She practically staggered over to a nearby window seat and collapsed, letting her head fall back against the window. James followed her, his face drawn with worry.

"What is it? Are you hurt? What happened in there?" He knelt in front of her, and as Lily gazed into his concerned eyes, she couldn't help but reach out and touch his cheek with a small giggle.

"I'm fine, really. I'm just…" She shrugged, unable to articulate anything. He nodded in understanding.

"I know." He sat down next to her, and Lily was glad for his solid presence, his warmth and support. He leaned back against the window as well and gazed sideways at her.

"Was it a boggart?" he asked. She looked him in the eye and nodded. "So you did it then." When she nodded again, he slipped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the temple. "I knew you could do it," he whispered.

"Thanks to you," she murmured, too tired to resist letting her head rest on his shoulder. It was comfortable, and again his words from earlier that night came back: I'll be there for you, no matter what happens. She rather liked that idea. She liked sitting there with him.

In fact, she could have fallen asleep wrapped in his arms, but he finally sighed and stood up, and for the first time Lily noticed the burn marks on his sleeve, the scratch on his leg, the smudges on his face; she wondered if she looked the same. He held out his hand to help her up, and she gave him another tired smile as she accepted. For a moment they simply stood there, holding hands before he brushed a loose hair away from her face and gazed into her eyes. She thought he might kiss her, but instead he said the last thing she expected, ruining the moment. "I wonder what time it is."

"It is quite early for even the Head Boy and Head Girl to be up and about," said a voice from behind them. They turned to find Professor Dumbledore standing there, as if he had appeared from nowhere. His eyes were twinkling behind his round spectacles; he seemed amused at coming across the Head Boy and Head Girl in the middle of the corridor, scratched and dirty, as opposed to furious at finding them out of bed before the sun even rose.

"Sir," James stuttered, stepping away from her immediately. "We can explain, really. It's not what you think, sir, we were--"

Lily almost flinched from the awkwardness. Professor Dumbledore merely tilted his head. "And what do you suppose I might be thinking, Mr. Potter?"

James flushed clear up to the roots of his messy hair; Lily glanced down, fumbling with her dirty robes. Then she thought about why they were so dirty: she had almost been killed by a Lethifold. She stepped forward, determined not to be in trouble, because as far she was concerned, they hadn't really done anything wrong.

"Sir, we just experienced something incredibly strange, right here in the castle. Something I think you should know about."

"I imagine you did, Ms. Evans," Dumbledore replied with a slightly amused tone.

"You already know," said James, a note of accusation hanging in his voice. "You were waiting for us."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter." If it were at all possible, Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling even more. "I was informed of your situation almost as soon as it began. Why don't you join me in my office, and I will explain before breakfast begins."

"Before breakfast…" James repeated, his shoulders slumping as he passed a weary hand over his eyes. "Merlin's beard, we've been up all night in that damn thing." He seemed to realize what he had said and straightened up. "Sorry, sir. Of course we'll come to your office."

They followed Professor Dumbledore to the third floor. When James reached over and squeezed her hand in reassurance, Lily smiled at him…and didn't let go. They had gone into the maze to learn, and she had learned something unexpected. Now perhaps she would learn why.

* * *

They entered the headmaster's office together and stood awkwardly in front of the fireplace. Dumbledore motioned them to sit on a nearby sofa. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes," said Lily, sounding exhausted.

"No, thank you," replied James. "Sir, if you knew--"

"All in good time, James," said Dumbledore, pouring two cups of tea from a nearby tray. He handed one to Lily; it smelled so good that James wished he had accepted one after all. Dumbledore must have noticed the look on his face, for he handed the second cup to James, then poured himself another before taking a seat across from them.

"Now that we are settled, why don't you tell me what happened tonight?" he asked. James blinked a few times, not sure how to start. Fortunately, Lily began.

"We were walking back to Gryffindor when we saw a set of doors on the sixth floor that had never been there before," said Lily. "When we opened them, there was a maze inside."

"Which naturally you decided to enter in the middle of the night after curfew," said Dumbledore.

"It was my idea, sir," James said quickly, setting down his tea. "I didn't think the room would be there in the morning, and then…" He trailed off as he thought about the mysterious words that had appeared.

"There was a message on the door, sir," said Lily. "It seemed like we were supposed to go in, so we did."

Dumbledore studied them thoughtfully over his cup. "You are both correct. The room only appears to those in need. It does not appear often and does not appear for long. So you were right to take advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself."

James wanted to give Lily an 'I told you so' look, but he also wanted to know more. "Professor, what was it exactly? And how did you know where we were?"

"I knew you were in the maze because I was informed as soon as you entered," said Dumbledore.

"How?" James asked, beginning to grow annoyed with Dumbledore's vague answers. The headmaster seemed to sense his impatience and smiled.

"By the witch who created it." He motioned toward a portrait above the door. "Rowena Ravenclaw."

The woman in the portrait looked up from a book. She was fair skinned with long black hair and piercing black eyes. She had sharp but beautiful features and wore a deep blue gown detailed in the same complicated loops and swirls as the doors to the maze.

"So these are our two young stravaiger," she said in a lilting Scottish accent. "And how did you fare in the maze?"

Whereas James had held back his irritation with Professor Dumbledore earlier, now he did not. This was the woman who had almost got them killed, and he wanted her to know exactly what he thought, even if she were only a portrait.

"We almost died in there," he said, his voice surprisingly calm as he stood and faced the portrait. "Is that what we were supposed to learn? How to die?"

"James," murmured Lily. "Sit down."

"No, it is quite all right," said Rowena Ravenclaw. She raised a dark eyebrow at them. "Is that really what happened? Perhaps you should return if that is all you have brought back with you."

"I brought back this, this, and this," James snapped, pointing at his leg, his arm, and various scratches on his face.

"But what did you learn?" she pressed. James just stared at her, too annoyed to do anything but shake his head. Professor Dumbledore spoke.

"Rowena, I think they have had a rather long night. I shall explain things to them."

"Thank you, Albus," she replied, gazing fondly at the headmaster. "I am sure you will be able to help them understand far better than I."

Rowena returned to her book, absorbed in whatever she was reading. James turned on Dumbledore.

"She told you we were in the maze?" he demanded. "Did she tell you we were in mortal danger as well?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Please sit down again, James. I will explain everything, as I can see that you are clearly upset about what has happened."

"I'm not upset," James grumbled, and he wasn't. He was tired, irritated, hungry, and confused, but he was not upset--not really.

"Thank you, sir," said Lily, finishing her tea as James reluctantly sat down. "If you could explain what happened, I'm sure we'd both feel much better."

"Of course." Dumbledore stood and walked before the fire. He stared into it before turning toward them and beginning.

"As you know, Rowena Ravenclaw was one of the founders of our school. It was she who designed this castle, including the moving staircases, so it should come as no surprise that she included a secret room or two."

"Like the Come and Go Room?" James asked, and Dumbledore inclined his head.

"Perhaps."

"Only that wasn't the Come and Go Room," said Lily, and Dumbledore nodded this time.

"No, it was not. Rowena created the maze as an exercise for the students of Ravenclaw house, to challenge them both intellectually and physically. Before she died, she placed a spell on the room so that it would appear to any student at Hogwarts who needed a challenge to overcome any obstacles preventing them from fully realizing their potential."

"So it just appears to some people and not to others?" she asked.

"It appears to those who are struggling with something very specific and very important about their magic," Dumbledore replied. "It is a rare and special gift."

"But why don't more people know about it?" asked Lily. "Are you going to ask us to keep it secret?"

"Or Obliviate us," murmured James, which earned him an elbow in the side from Lily. Dumbledore laughed softly.

"Of course I am not going to Obliviate you." He paused, giving them a thoughtful look. "You went into the maze to learn something. You were always perfectly safe. The fact that you made it out of the maze on your own, and quickly at that, indicates that you learned what you were supposed to learn, and that is an important lesson to remember."

Sitting down across from them once more, Dumbledore continued. "Some have turned down the opportunity you were given tonight. Others have tried and failed." James idly wondered if Dumbledore himself had experienced either; he doubted it, but there was a wistful look on the headmaster's face as he spoke.

"I will not ask you about your experience in the maze, as it is a very personal thing, nor will I ask you to keep it secret. I would ask, however, that you not reveal its presence to everyone you know, as it is more fun this way, don't you think?" His eyes were twinkling again, and James resisted the impulse to roll his eyes at the headmaster.

"Now, I am sure you will want to clean up and find something more substantial than tea for breakfast." Dumbledore stood once more, clearly dismissing them; they rose and followed him toward the door.

"Thank you for explaining everything, sir," said Lily as they left. James did not say anything, because he still had many questions.

"You are welcome, Ms. Evans. I hope that you both take much away from your experience this past night. Perhaps even more than was intended."

She thanked him once more, and they left the tower, making their way back to Gryffindor. The sun was coming up and the castle was starting to stir, and James was just as tired, confused, and irritated as ever. He didn't even notice where they were going until Lily stopped him in front of the prefects' lounge, said the password, and dragged him inside.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and she seemed both annoyed and concerned. He sighed, not wanting to upset her.

"Nothing, really," he said. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"It bothers you, being played like that," she stated, and he nodded in surprise at her insight.

"A bit. I mean, doesn't it bother you?" he asked, and to his surprise she shook her head.

"Not really," she replied. "Think about it, James: we just got to do something very few students get to do. And we got to do it together."

She took a step forward as she spoke, and James felt his heart skip a beat. He glanced down into green eyes gazing at him in a way that he had never thought to see.

"We could have died," he murmured, but she shook her head.

"No, you heard what Dumbledore said. We were always safe."

"But what was the point?" he asked, though deep down, he thought he knew. He just wanted her to say it.

"I defeated my boggart," she replied. "You cast a corporeal Patronus. And we worked together to defeat the dragon and the werewolf."

"So what do you think Dumbledore meant by learning more than was intended?" he asked. His voice was a husky whisper, because she was so, so close, and he all he could think about was accidentally grazing her lips in maze, and how much he wanted to feel that again.

"I learned you're an Animagus," she said softly, and she reached out to touch his face just as she had right before he had defeated the Lethifold. "And I realized that I'm not alone, because I'll always have you."

"Me?" James felt his voice break and cleared his throat. "What do you mean?"

"You promised you would always be there for me," she whispered, and her lips were brushing his as she spoke. "And not only do I believe you, but I will hold you to that promise."

"Me?" he repeated. He had spoken on impulse, and though he had meant every word, he had not thought she would truly want him. Yet she gave him a coy look through her eyelashes before leaning even closer.

"Yes, you…Prongs."

Their lips finally met, and he kissed her back, relishing in the simple joy of finally discovering something he had wanted for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was. It was Lily, and he knew that now. She had inspired his Patronus, and he in turn had helped her defeat her deepest fear.

Yet more importantly, they had found each other in the maze. He had made a promise to her, and their experience together only deepened his commitment. He would be there for Lily, no matter what happened. Neither of them would be alone.

Slowly she pulled back, laying her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and sighed. "I really doubt this is what Dumbledore meant, you know."

He could feel her smile against him. "You never know. He is a strange, wise man."

"He's not a matchmaker," said James, and then laughed at the ridiculous idea. Lily giggled with him.

"No, but I think he knows. Why else would we go into the maze together, James, except to find one another?"

James had no answer; he was just glad they had been given the chance. Taking her hand, he lead her from the prefects' lounge, just as he had only hours earlier. This time, however, things were different: this time they were truly together.

And somehow he knew it would be forever, no matter the twists and turns their lives might take.

* * *