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Trickster by Willow Rosenberg

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Winter had begun to creep across the grounds, bringing with it faint anticipation and excitement for the holidays. The Marauders were in fine form these days—the first real snowfall of the year found them outside, throwing snowballs at each other and anyone who passed by. Remus bewitched one snowball to target Sirius—it continually hit him in the face and reformed. Sirius retaliated by turning Remus into a giant icicle. Once he had unthawed, Remus enchanted a snowman to chase Sirius around the grounds. It got confused, however, and tackled Professor McGonagall who, while siphoning the moisture from her robes with her wand, gave all four of them detention, despite James and Peter’s indignant protestations that they, like her, were merely innocent bystanders.

Despite this, James especially was cheerful. He was looking forward to going home for the holidays—he was, as always, bringing Sirius with him—and his Quidditch team was doing well; they had won their first match of the season against Slytherin by a landslide, and were in high spirits during their training sessions. And more than that, Lily Evans was still speaking to him.

For all that she had claimed to dislike him, Lily no longer seemed to be going out of her way to avoid him. She had given him a hand several times in Potions over the past few weeks when he had been struggling, and the other day in Herbology she had been friendly when they were paired to the same Snargaluff stump—although she had reverted to calling him “Potter” instead of by his surname, she wasn’t ignoring him altogether. And when a nearby Venemous Tentacula had seized him rather surprisingly around the arm, she had quite savagely helped him beat it off with a pair of pliers. And while she didn’t seem inclined to want to start dating him anytime soon, he reassured himself with the fact that, at least, she wasn’t going out with anyone else, either.

---

“So, Evans, did you see that there’s a trip to Hogsmeade scheduled for next weekend?”

Lily nodded absently, her attention on the squirming Bubotuber plant in her hands.

“Well, I was thinking you might want to go.”

“I was planning on it,” she said vaguely, trying to squeeze the pus from the pod into a bowl.

“No, I mean, with me. Like a date.”

The pod shot from her hands and landed on the floor a few feet away, where it lay still. She eyed it suspiciously for a second, before turning her gaze to the boy who stood in front of her, blowing a strand of loose hair from her face as she did so.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you say?”

“I was wondering,” Isaac Smith, a sixth-year Hufflepuff, said slowly, “if you wanted to go to Hogsmede with me next weekend. On a date.”

Surprised, Lily just stared at him for a second. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed James Potter, who had been struggling with the Bubotuber next to hers, go suddenly still.

Isaac was still standing in front of her expectantly. Tall, blonde, and broad-shouldered, he was good-looking enough, but Lily had always found him a little pompous, and far too eager to show off.

“Oh,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Thanks for asking. But I was just really planning on going with Mary, you know, and I’m not really looking for anyone to date right now…”

She trailed off as he snorted derisively. “Sure,” he said. “Or maybe it’s just that the perfect Lily Evans is too good for any normal boy.”

“What?” she asked, hurt and startled. “No, it’s not that at all—”

He cut her off, saying, “Or maybe there’s something else wrong with you. Pretty girl like that, no boyfriend—maybe it’s just that filthy Mudblood stench coming through.”

Lily blinked. It was a word she had grown to expect from the Slytherins, and it hardly bothered her. But somehow, coming from a Hufflepuff, it felt much more like a slap in the face. She darted a quick glance to her right and saw James Potter tense; beside him, Sirius was staring at Isaac with a look of deep disgust on his face. Remus Lupin looked furious, and even little Peter Pettigrew was clutching his wand tightly.

She felt a strange and unfamiliar rush of affection for all of them—despite whatever differences they had had in the past, or still had, they were there, on her side. Whether it was as Gryffindors or—maybe—as friends, they had her back. Encouraged by this, she turned to face Isaac.

“You don’t take rejection well, do you Smith?” she asked coolly. Most of the students, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors alike, were paying rapt attention to their dialogue. Mary, who was seated just to Lily’s left, inhaled sharply as Isaac Smith barked a short, scornful laugh and turned away. Lily shook her head and started to bend back over her Bubotuber as Smith stopped in front of the pod she and dropped, and, with one last look at her, deliberately stomped on it.

Pus squirted from the tuber. Lily threw her arms in front of her eyes at the last second, causing some of the pus to spatter all over her dragon-hide gloves instead of her face. But a fair amount hit the bare skin on her forearms where the gloves didn’t quite reach, and some landed on her neck and the lower half of her face. Large welts rose there almost instantly, and Lily whimpered unintentionally against the pain.

There was a moment of complete silence as everyone in the greenhouse, including Professor Sprout, stared at Lily in amazement. Then Mary gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, and James Potter sprang from his seat, Sirius Black half a second behind him. The two of them tackled Isaac Smith, fists flailing and wands forgotten.

The sight seemed to jolt Professor Sprout into action—pulling out her wand, she shouted “Petrificus Totalus!” and the three of them were blasted apart, limbs locked to their sides. She cast them one disparaging glance before sweeping over to a motionless Lily.

“Class dismissed,” she said, before departing for the hospital wing. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors alike shuffled out in her wake, leaving the three boys lying on the floor behind them.

---

Lily woke suddenly in the middle of the night to find a dark shape leaning over her.

She reacted without thinking; her fist shot out, and she heard the satisfying sound of impact. And then—“Ouch, Merlin’s beard, Evans, what are you doing?”

The voice was masculine and familiar; raising herself onto her elbows, she said cautiously, “Black?”

He popped up in front of her, making her jump. “Of course it’s me. Who else would be sneaking around the hospital wing in the dead of night?”

Surreptitiously, she rubbed her fist, which was a little sore from hitting his face. “Yes, but what are you doing here?”

“Move over,” he commanded, and she was so startled by the order that she did—a second later, she regretted her compliance as he sat familiarly on the edge of her bed. She tried to look suitably firm. He ignored her.

“To be honest,” he said, “James asked me to come see how you were.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t he just come himself?”

“Why, did you want him to?”

She scowled and shoved him off the bed. He emerged grinning. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said cheekily. She started to protest, but Sirius put a finger to his lips and said, “Don’t want to wake Madame Pomfrey!” Lily settled for what she thought was a severe frown.

“Anyway,” Sirius continued, settling himself down beside her again, “he would have come. But he’s in detention all night. Sprout’s totally fierce when it comes to messing around in her greenhouse, as it turns out. Hey Evans, why does your face look like that? Are you constipated?”

Hastily, she tried to rearrange her expression, ignoring his last comment with as much dignity as she could muster. “Why aren’t you in detention, then?” she asked.

He made a face. “She didn’t want me and Prongs doing ours at the same time. Thought we’d have too much fun together. I have to do mine all day Saturday.”

Lily felt a pang of remorse—it was over her that they were in trouble, after all. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s my fault, isn’t it.”

He waved away her apology. “Nah,” he said. “You didn’t make him jump that guy. And you know me. Always itching for some action.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. Then, the thought suddenly occurring to her, she asked, “Hey—Smith got in trouble too, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius grinned. “Way more than Prongs and me. He’s got a whole week of detention, and he’s banned from Hogsmeade for the rest of the year.”

“Good,” Lily said smugly, leaning back into her pillows, suddenly very tired. Noticing this, Sirius stood.

“I’d better be going. It’s late. And don’t worry Evans,” he said diplomatically, “your boils look much better already.”

She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. Then, as she heard him leaving, she remembered something and sat up again. “Wait!” she hissed. “Why do you call him ‘Prongs?’”

He turned and winked at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asked, and he was gone.

She looked after him, shaking her head. “They’re all the same,” she muttered faintly, and went back to sleep.

---

The weekend came and went, and both Sirius and James had recovered from their detentions—both of which had involved various odd jobs around the greenhouses. They were satisfied to notice, however, that Isaac Smith’s detentions were much more frustrating—when James left his detention, he saw Smith attempting to prune the Venemous Tentacula, and he couldn’t help but grin.

Late Monday night found the four of them sprawled in front of the fireplace as usual, flipping idly through schoolbooks—or, in Sirius’s case, sniggering over a Muggle magazine he’d nicked from a first-year. After awhile, James looked up, and, noticing that the common room was empty, shut his book emphatically.

“Uh-oh,” Remus said, glancing at him.

Peter looked up as well, startled. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“James has a bright idea that’s going to land us all in detention,” Remus said. “Again.”

Peter looked at James. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.”

James frowned defensively. “Well I was just thinking,” he said slowly, “that a week’s worth of detentions just isn’t enough punishment for Smith. He needs something more…”

“Personal?” suggested Remus.

“Humiliating,” said Peter.

“Hot,” breathed Sirius, turning a page of the magazine. The other three looked at him for a moment, and then, as a whole, ignored him.

“Right,” said James, nodding at the other two. “Something he’s not going to forget in a hurry.”

Remus was fidgeting a little uncomfortably—no doubt the Prefect’s badge on his chest was weighing on him—but Peter’s eyes were shining excitedly. “What do you want to do?” he asked eagerly. “Hang him from the roof of the castle?”

“No, no,” said Remus, apparently choosing mischief over order this time. “It’s got to be more subtle than that.”

“Here’s what I was thinking,” James started to say, leaning forward, when someone cleared her throat behind him.

They all turned to look. Lily Evans—apparently fresh from the hospital wing—was leaning against the doorframe of the portrait hole, watching them. They blinked at her guiltily (Sirius quickly shoved the magazine beneath a nearby couch).

“Uh, hey Evans,” James said, trying to grin. “We were just—”

She held up a hand to silence him. “Stow it, Potter,” she said. “I heard what you were saying.”

He leapt to his feet, a little angrily. “Come on, Evans,” he said. “You can’t be threatening to turn us in here. After all, it’s for you that we’re even—”

“I didn’t say I wanted to turn you in,” she interrupted him. “What I was going to say, if you’ll let me finish, is that I want to help you.”

“Oh,” he said, slightly stunned. He sat down again. Sirius was now eyeing Lily approvingly, and Remus was grinning openly. Peter was examining his fingernails.

James moved over, opening the circle to give her a place to sit. She took it.

---

Lily dragged herself down to breakfast the next morning with some effort; she hadn’t gotten to bed until dawn the night before, and it had been difficult to resist the urge to sleep through her morning classes. But her internal Prefect nagged her to get up—with the mischief she was helping to plan, she couldn’t afford to miss class.

Mary was already in the dining hall when Lily entered, and she squealed in delight, moving down the bench to make room for her exhausted friend. Lily slid in beside her, and immediately started looking for the coffee.

“I didn’t even hear you come in last night,” Mary said to her. “I’m surprised Madame Pomfrey let you go so late, instead of just keeping you in for the whole night…she did a fantastic job, though, your face looks totally normal!”

Lily glanced at her dryly. As she did so, she noticed James and Sirius enter the Great Hall. Neither of them looked as tired as she felt, and Sirius was bouncing around like a puppy—whether it was years of running around on little sleep or sheer, irrepressible energy, she didn’t know.

James caught her eye and winked, and she raised her eyebrows in response. She had to admit that she liked the intrigue—the late-night planning, the covert communication, all of it added up to the kind of adventure that she had been searching for when she attempted to prank these boys in the first place. It was what Mary had never had the patience for, and Lily was forced to admit to herself that, when it came to excitement, maybe she had more in common with James Potter than she wanted.

Not, she hastily thought to herself, that she liked him now or anything. Despite his recent acquisition of manners—and despite the fact that she had been enjoying herself in his presence lately—she had seen him hex people for the fun of it, not in the least of which was Severus. And Lily had trouble reconciling that side of him with the side she saw now.

But still, they were awfully good at pranks. She had noticed that last night. Planning with them made her attempts at pranking look feeble and amateur—their kind of mischief was what she had been longing for. Well, she thought, helping herself to a piece of toast, If you can’t beat ‘em…

She shook her head to clear it, half-noticing that Mary was still chatting away beside her, when the mail arrived. Lily looked up expectantly. She was still receiving, with some regularity, letters from her mysterious friend, and she looked forward to them. These days, they didn’t have quite the solemnity of the first few; they were lighthearted and funny, and often a bright spot to her day. This morning didn’t disappoint her. Today’s letter was brief—it included a short, mildly amusing joke about a hag, a healer, and a Mimbulus Mimbletonia—but it made her laugh nonetheless, and she pocketed it.

“Who’s that from?” Mary asked curiously, as they got up to walk to class.

Lily hesitated for an instant before answering, “A friend.”

---

A few nights later, and the plan was ready to be set in motion.

Sirius was all for it, and although James would have liked a few more days to plan, he had to admit that the Christmas holidays were only a week away, and they had to get moving. He, Sirius, and Remus were awake in their dorm when Peter returned in the form of a small rat. He turned back into himself, sat on the floor in a daze for a minute, and then stood up.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m done tailing Smith, I think. He has a pretty strict schedule.”

From his four-poster, Sirius snorted. “Of course he does, the ponce.”

Peter ignored him. “He always studies alone in the library until ten, and then he walks back to the Hufflepuff dorms via the passageway by the kitchens, which is pretty much deserted then. That’d probably be the best place to get him”

“Good job, Wormtail,” James said, clapping him on the back. Peter grinned.

“We’ll let Lily know that tomorrow’s the night,” Remus put in. This time, it was James who grinned.

---

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” muttered Lily the next night.

“Ah, come on, Evans,” said James, bumping her with his shoulder. “You’re enjoying yourself.”

She was, actually, although she wasn’t going to admit that to him—especially not when they were both on their hands and knees in a broom cupboard that was barely big enough to hold them. They were squished together, waiting for Sirius’s signal.

“How long do you think it’s going to be?” she whispered, trying unsuccessful to wriggle away from him—his elbow was jabbed unpleasantly into her ribcage.

“Probably any minute now, and stop fidgeting like that, you’re going to knock something over, give the whole game away.”

“Please,” she spat back quietly. “I’m not five, I can sit still. It’s just a little uncomfortable being continuously prodded by you in here.”

“You want to talk uncomfortable? Do you have any idea where your knee is right now?”

“Never tell me. If you could just move a little to your left, I could get this broom handle out of my spine…”

“Okay, I’m trying, I don’t exactly have all the room in the world here.”

They shifted around, ending up more tangled then before. Somehow, Lily ended up with her back to the wall, shoved unceremoniously into a corner. James was braced above her, his hands splayed on the wall, trying to keep both himself and a few brooms from falling over. Lily sighed. “This isn’t working,” she said, looking up at him.

He was so close that, even in the dark, she could see him roll his eyes. “Tell me about it,” he said, slipping a little as he tried to keep his balance.

She laughed softly, and tried to raise herself into a sitting position. “Here,” she said, putting her hands on his chest to gently push him back, trying to maneuver herself around him. “My legs are falling asleep.”

He managed to back up, kneeling, holding onto the brooms for support, as she, with some effort, pushed herself onto her knees as well. Their noses brushed, and she ducked her head almost shyly.

“Hey,” James said, his voice suddenly deeper, gentler. “We always seem to end up on broom closets, don’t we?”

Surprised, she glanced up at him again, laughing again, and for a moment they just looked at each other. And then he was tilting his head, leaning in towards her—or maybe he wasn’t, maybe it was just a trick of the dim lighting—but either way, she wasn’t thinking anymore, just raising her chin, her mouth parted slightly. She could feel his breath on her face, and surely this couldn’t be her imagination—

A stream of red sparks shot under their door, and James leapt to his feet and bolted outside so fast that Lily was sure the last few seconds hadn’t happened. A moment later, he stuck his head back in the closet. “What are you still doing in here?” he asked, grinning. “Come on!”

She got to her feet and dashed after him. The rounded a corner and came face-to-face with Isaac Smith, who blinked at them in confusion for a moment. James flung out his wand, shouting “Incarcerous!,” Lily a beat behind him.

“Ha,” James said, satisfied, as they stared down at the thoroughly bound and gagged body of Smith before them. He held out his hand and Lily, smiling, high-fived him. Together, they dragged Smith around the corner, to a corridor that was more frequently populated during the day. Stretching from one wall to the other was a giant spider web that Remus and Peter had put together while Sirius had stood in the hall, disguised in a suit of armor, watching for Smith. He appeared around the corner as well now, clanking, removing the metal helmet from his head and beaming.

“Well done!” he said to James and Lily. “Now we just got to get him up there.”

It wasn’t, in the end, a difficult task; James and Remus levitated Smith into the center of the web where he stuck, squirming weakly. Then Lily used her wand to embellish the words “Some Pig” over his head. Then they all stepped back to admire their handiwork.

“You know,” Sirius said thoughtfully, “I don’t really get that.”

“The pig thing?” Lily asked, and he nodded. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “Some Muggle-borns will. But either way, it still describes him perfectly.”

Sirius admitted that it did indeed, and as one, they turned to walk back towards Gryffindor Tower.

“Oh, wait,” Lily said suddenly, turning around and facing Smith. She pointed her wand at him—the four boys behind her exchanged nervous glances—and then she cried, “Obliviate!”

His eyes slid out of focus for a second, and Lily dashed towards the boys, hauling them around the corner.

“That way,” she said, sounding pleased with herself, “he won’t be able to remember who did that to him to tell on us.”

She walked ahead, and behind her, the Marauders stared at her in amazement.

“How come we never thought of that?” Peter muttered.

“Well, thinking ahead has never really been our strong suit,” Sirius said lightly.

“How many detentions do you think we could have avoided…” Remus mused, and James clapped him on the shoulder.

“Detentions build character!” he cried. “I am thankful for every one. Although,” he paused, “I’m actually okay with not getting another one anytime soon.” The other three chortled.

Ahead of them, Lily stopped and turned around. “Are you guys coming or what?” she called.

“We’re coming,” Remus called back, but James was already running to catch up to her.