A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I’ve been very busy! I haven’t had much time to write, as I have been preparing and celebrating my 16th birthday! *does the birthday dance*

So leave lots of reviews and make me happy. ;)

Disclaimer: Jo’s, Jo’s, Jo’s.

But when they got to Divination, Lily wasn’t there. They walked in and took their usual seat, James glancing around for her. Marlene was sitting, lips pursed, staring determinedly away from them. James could tell she was irritated that Lily wasn’t here yet.

The bell sounded, and Lily was officially late. This wasn’t like her at all. Marlene was looking even more irritated, a bit worried even.

Professor Voyant entered, and beamed around at them all. She was a thin witch and was exceedingly frail. She was outwardly very grandiose, and gave an impression of someone trying (and failing) to seem important. “Hello, students. It is marvelous to see you all back, again. I am sincerely pleased that you have all chosen to continue your studies of Divination. Many spend seven years of their life whittling away with wands, wasting their time over cauldrons and herbs, but I, and those precious few who can indeed See, we Know. We Know of the importance of the …Sight.” She seemed about to continue her spiel, but was interrupted as a red-haired girl -- with a face to match -- entered the room. Lily had arrived at last.

Blushing, Lily took her seat. Professor Voyant looked at her expectantly, deeply offended that she was late. “Er,” she started. She felt Marlene’s eyes on her. It wasn’t like her to be late. “Well, you see, Professor…” She was making excuses? What was she turning into, a marauder? “…I was reading over my homework assignment, and I realized -- and it’s a good thing too as I completely forgot -- that I had seen an omen, earlier this year. With some, er, consultation of my notes, I realized that I was, uh, in great danger … today … If I went near the, er, North Tower … er…now.”

Lily heard Sirius Black make a noise behind her, clearly shocked. Or impressed. Professor Voyant’s small eyes widened comically, her wrinkled, tensile skin stretching.

“My dear,” she whispered, “Tell me! What omen did you see?”

Lily was mildly surprised she was buying it, but she reminded herself that this was Professor Voyant, batty old nutter she was. She thought for a moment, trying to think of a decent omen. “A grim,” she said primly.

The room was suddenly spattered with whispers and hushed voices. Marlene gasped and Professor Voyant closed her eyes faintly. Lily had a hard time containing herself, trying very hard not to roll her eyes.

“My dear, you were very wise in your decision. You seem quite calm…surely you are worried?”

“Oh, yes, Professor. I am very grave,” she said seriously, taking her seat and biting back a smile. Though Voyant made no real reaction, the pun was not lost on everyone. Marlene was glaring daggers at her, and James and Sirius exchanged glances before bursting into unruly laughter.

Professor Voyant looked positively appalled. “Potter! Black! What in heavens is so funny? This is certainly no laughing matter!”

The two garbled apologies, struggling to suppress their laughter. James caught Lily’s gaze, his eyes twinkling.

Voyant turned back to Lily. She was not done yet with her interrogation. “Do say, when did you see this? Was it before…?” Her voice trailed off softly and Lily felt her insides go numb. She stared coldly ahead at the professor and said, “Well it couldn’t very well have been much after, could it?”

“I suppose not,” replied Voyant delicately. “Very well,” she said, seeming to realize this was not a topic Lily wished to discuss in front of the class. The woman never had much tact, but Lily was thankful she stopped the conversation when she did. “I think we will start this school year with a review of what studies we have already practiced in the…past.”

They spent the remaining lesson going over omens and dream interpretation. Lily watched with some amusement as Sirius Black attempted fruitlessly to talk his way out of the assignment. He finally gave up, gave an uninterested shrug, and allowed Voyant to continue her lesson.

Lily was quite happy to leave that stuffy room when the bell rang.

“You were lying,” Marlene said as they walked through the hallways.

“About what?” Lily said carelessly.

“Why were you really late?” Marlene pressed.

Lily looked at her for a moment, then said dramatically, “I was delayed.”

“Well, that much was obvious. By what?”

Lily paused again. “Your brother, actually.”

“Mick?” Michael McKinnon was Marlene’s twin brother, though they didn’t look that much alike. He was in Ravenclaw, one of the top students in their year, Keeper on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and a shoe-in for Head Boy -- until James Potter miraculously seized the title.

“That would be the one.”

“Why did Mick hold you up?” Marlene said curiously.

“Well, I was on my way to Divination, and I ran into him in the hallway -- not literally, of course -- and we got to talking.”

Marlene shook her head. “You missed Divination so you could talk to my brother.”

“I hardly missed much.” Marlene rolled her eyes. The two friends shared very different views on the subject. Marlene seemed to believe every word Voyant said, and Lily? She thought it was all complete rubbish.

The rest of the week passed without much excitement. She was happy to be back in school. The methodical order of schedules and homework was calming. She soon felt back to normal, and was almost enjoying herself again.

The first night of rounds came soon. The Head Boy and Girl were supposed to patrol the corridors for a few hours after curfew.

James stood, waiting for her by the window of the corridor they were going to patrol.

Lily came moments after he arrived. They decided to split off, and patrol different hallways. James was a little disappointed at this, but agreed because it did seem a bit superfluous to have two people patrolling one corridor.

James saw virtually no one on duty, save a professor or two. It was about time to leave. He turned back down the corridor he came, heading back to the Common Room. Lily Evans was standing there, leaning against the window, gazing out.

She looked up. She noted his presence, but made no response. After a moment, as he came closer, she commented, “It’s such a beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it?”

James frowned. “It’s raining.” Maybe it was because he was a Quidditch player, but he had never been very pleased by the rain.

“Yes,” she said distractedly. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” She spoke in that preoccupied tone that suggested she was paying very little attention to what she was really saying. Her thoughts were elsewhere, guarded by rhetorical questions and idle comments.

She was staring off now, smiling placidly at the rain. He watched her watching it for a few moments before he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

She said nothing, looking away as though she had not heard him. Then she answered very softly, “The rain.”

“What about the rain?” He knew he was being rude, an intruder on her thoughts, but he wanted to delve into her mind. She let so little out anymore, he wanted to see for himself what treasures she hid away in there. He wanted to see what only she could, what made her smile like that, the way he always wished she would smile at him. And at the same time, he wanted to purge her mind of the horrors that inevitably lied there. Leave her with nothing but those simple joys, simple things that made her smile. It must be a beautiful mind.

He received the same response with this question: She was silent for a moment or two, but then she sang very softly a song he couldn’t understand. She blinked and gave an apologetic laugh. “I don’t know where that came from. It just popped up. My mother used to make me have a tutor over the summer, you see. She was horrified that I wasn’t learning French or taking Literature classes here. She was rather old-fashioned, my mother. While she was proud of my magic, she never quite understood it, and to her, you just weren’t educated if you couldn’t read Shakespeare easily, or speak fluent French. Needless to say, I can’t do either.”

It was a memory. A good memory, he perceived. He wondered if he should say something, but opted not to. She didn’t need conversation. She wasn’t really talking to him, anyways. He felt almost guilty, standing there, listening to her thoughts, like a schoolboy reading a magazine he shouldn’t it. He knew he should stop, but at the same time, each second was rapture. He simply resumed watching her.

“I’ll have to write my French tutor, of course. Tell her I won’t be taking lessons anymore…Mother would be horrified,” she paused. “I miss her…” James was caught in indecision of whether to speak or not, but Lily had turned away. She was staring at the rain once more. She muttered something James didn’t catch, and then shook her head slightly, as if warding off bad memories.

Lily never mentioned her parents again, after that night. She opened up to no one, not even Marlene, it seemed. No one reminded her of it, for she needed no reminder. She simply kept quiet, pretending it had never happened. Things, it seemed, were getting back to normal.

The month passed, and with it the full moon. The wolf was more aggravated than usual. He restlessly traced his steps inside the Shack, clawing at the walls and howling for release. Remus had requested that they not allow him to leave the Shack. He had wanted his friends to not come at all -- presumably after what had happened last year, but they unashamedly refused. There were also teachers on guard around the grounds -- Voldemort had not yet attempted to attack the school, but that didn‘t mean he wasn’t ever going to. It was much to risky to let a werewolf out and about.

Sirius had tried calming the wolf, even tried to engage him in a game, but the wolf could not be placated. Padfoot resigned himself to nestling into a corner, head on paws, and whining softly as he watched his friend continually rage.

Remus’s injuries were worse than they’d been for over a year. Madame Pomfrey had come to believe that Remus was simply getting used to his transformations (for she had no reason to believe his three best friends snuck out every full moon to be with him), and she was shocked at his state the next morning. Remus attributed it to stress from the war, and James secretly agreed.

Their nights of freedom, like so many other things they held close to them, seemed to be coming to an end.

One cold October morning, James was buttering his toast when the morning post came. He watched the owls uninterestedly, and the only mail he received was the Daily Prophet. Sighing, he opened it and read. The Daily Prophet was the window to war. Killings were announced most every other day on the front page. Any pleasant news was shunted to the back.

“The Crouch laws finally got passed, did they?” muttered James, unsure of his feelings on this matter. Sure, he was all for rounding up the Death Eaters and giving them what they deserve, but using the Unforgivables to do so? Wasn’t that, well, rather hypocritical?

Sirius, seeing what he was reading, shook his head brusquely and turned to a slightly agitated barn owl, who did not appreciate being ignored. Attempting to pacify the owl, he muttered to Peter, “Bung him a kipper, Wormtail.” Peter obliged, and the owl, who did not seem in the least mollified, flew away as soon as Sirius had removed the letter.

More, it seemed, to break the silence than anything else (as James was still glowering at the Prophet), Sirius said, “Letter from Andromeda.”

It worked. James looked up and said, “I liked Andromeda.” He remembered the time he had met her earlier this summer. It seemed like ages ago. She had come to James’s home, raging at Sirius for running away to live with James.

She had started by saying how it was completely irresponsible of him to just up and leave like that. He might have been killed! And ended by saying that she wished she had had the guts to do it before she had been blasted off the family tree, and how she’d just love, sometime, to replace one of the house-elves heads (a tradition James and Sirius both agreed was incredibly freaky) with dear old Auntie’s.

The whole time, her five-year-old daughter Nymphadora was running circles around James and Sirius, singing a loud song about a batty old lady and her evil elf that James felt quite certain she had learned from Sirius. (The elf’s name had sounded remarkably like “Kreacher,” though it was hard to tell through the girl’s garbled lyrics.)

“Child’s a monster though, isn’t she?” James said, grinning reminiscently.

Sirius drew himself up very proudly. “Learned from the best, of course.”

Both James and Sirius laughed heartily at this. His mood brightened, James asked, “What did Andromeda have to say?”

“Oh, not much, just keeping in touch, you know. Apparently, she thought she’d go on a ‘family-outing’ the other day. She, Ted, and Nymphadora went to a park. Apparently, her lovely daughter decided it would be funny to play hide and go seek.”

James gave an amused snort, knowing what came next.

“Problem is, Dora doesn’t play hide and go seek like normal kids. She kept morphing into all of the children around her. Just about gave Andromeda a heart attack. But you know Ted, he’s so indulgent. Andromeda just about kicked him, she says.”

James grinned, and his eyes fell on Marlene McKinnon, looking superfluously smug. She smiled all the way over to the Gryffindor table, not even pausing to glare at the James and his friends, as was the usual routine. She took a seat a little ways to the left of him, and looked expectantly towards the entrance to the Great Hall, presumably waiting for Lily.

“Alright, McKinnon?” said James, giving a look of mock concern. “You look a bit off.”

She gave him a cold look through her bespectacled eyes, but said in a voice dripping with fake politeness, “I’m perfectly fine, Potter. Thank for you asking.”

“You look awfully pleased over there.”

“Is that a crime?”

“Just a curiosity.”

She fiddled with the rim of her blue glasses, but said nothing more.

“May I be so rude as to inquire why?”

She gave him an appraising look. “No,” she said simply.

“Very well,” said James solemnly. “I suppose you plan to just leave me in the dark on this wondrous change that has suddenly overcome your personality?”

Marlene’s jaw twitched slightly, but she kept her composure, that placid smile plastered to her face.

She watched the doors for a few moments longer, then gave a satisfied “hm,” and helped herself to some eggs.

A bit curious, James followed her gaze. Lily was walking in through the door chatting emphatically with a tall boy that James didn’t recognize. As they came closer, James noticed her cheeks were slightly pink, but she was smiling. He caught snippets of their conversation.

“I’m just saying, that surely if we reached out to the Giants, some of them would accept…They can’t all be evil.”

The boy shook his head. “They don’t like Wizards very much. Don’t trust ‘em.”

“He’s a Wizard.” Lily persisted.

“If you would even call him that. You-Know-Who has more to offer than we do. He’s telling them to kill Wizards, isn’t he?”

“But surely --”

“McKinnon. Are you coming to practice or are you going to chat all day with your girlfriend?” James looked over to see the Ravenclaw Quidditch Caption, Hermia Clennell.

The two looked politely embarrassed, but Lily smiled and said to the boy, “I’ll see you later in Hogsmeade, okay?” She then stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

And with a jolt, James recognized the tall, brown haired boy, walking away. Michael McKinnon. James didn’t really know him well, and had never had strong feelings of dislike towards him. Sure, he was related to Marlene, but it he wouldn’t hold that against him. After all, look who Sirius was related to! James had even played him in Quidditch once or twice. He was a pretty good Keeper. However, all these feelings of neutrality quickly disappeared, and he realized that Mick McKinnon was really just a stupid prat.

Lily took a seat next to Marlene, who was wearing a small smile. Lily, still rather pink, said, “Oh, don’t do that …”

“What are you going out with Mick the Prick for?” asked James loudly, before he could stop himself. He heard Peter groan beside him.

Lily looked up. Clearly, she had not seen him. She looked slightly surprised at his comments, but not as though she hadn’t been expecting them. “He’s not a prick --”

“Then you are going out with him?”

Lily’s face turned a hue bright enough to rival her hair. “What do you care if --”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t care. I just think he’s a git, that’s all,” James said brutally.

“He is not a git!”

“Well we’re going to squash him in Quidditch, anyways.”

“Oh…falling back on the old Quidditch security blanket. Boys!” Lily replied scathingly.

They glared at each other for a moment, then James muttered to his friends, “I’ll see you guys later.”

And he stormed away. Stealing a furtive glance back, he saw Lily was staring daggers after him, and as he walked away, Marlene leaned in, presumably offering solace which more than likely consisted of reminding her how much of a git he, James, was, anyways.

The injustice of it all welled up in him. McKinnon! Mick McKinnon! That brainless idiot! He knew he was being rather unfair -- McKinnon certainly wasn’t brainless -- but he didn’t are at the moment. McKinnon!

He had been so engulfed in his anger, that he didn’t even notice when he walked right into a sallow-skinned boy.

“Watch where you’re going, Potter,” the boy hissed. Severus Snape was glaring at him through cold black eyes.

“Oh, go jump in the lake, Snivellus,” said James crossly. He wiped off his robes with a look of exaggerated disgust. “No, honestly, do. It might get rid of the stink.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “Relash--”

But James blocked the hex with ease. He considered very seriously cursing Snape. It certainly would be a nice way to relieve his anger, but something stopped him. He turned and began to walk away.

“What’s this?” crowed Snape. “Potter’s going yellow?”

Losing his temper, James told Snape to do something very rude.

“You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? You think you and your friends can just roam the school, and everyone will bow before you.”

“Are you looking for a fight?”

“But I know your secret. Its secret. Its disgusting, dark secret, the wol--”

“You can’t say anything!” growled James through bared teeth. Remus is not an it! “Dumbledore made you swear, you’ll be expelled…”

“Yes,” admitted Snape grudgingly. “‘Tell no one of this, Severus. No one must know of this, or I will be forced to expel you.’ Well, that certainly put me in my place!”

“Should’ve let you die. I didn’t do it for you, though. I did it for --”

Snape turned, if possible, even paler. “You did it for yourself, you arrogant --” Snape paused, and regained himself. “You would have been expelled. So you decided to turn things in your favor and give the threat of expulsion to me. Things are changing, Potter. Even you aren’t idiotic enough to not realize that. It soon may very well be that it doesn’t matter if I’m expelled. Oh, what fun it would be to see it cope with that…”

“SHUT UP!” Without thinking of what he was doing, he jerked his wand at Snape. “Incarcerous!” he muttered, and thick ropes sprang from his wand, wrapping themselves tightly around the git. He fell to the ground, struggling to free himself. The ropes were so tight, however, that he could hardly move. James kicked him to the side of the corridor and turned to walk away. Let Snivellus stay there until someone found him. What did he care?

He knew he would regret his rash actions later, but he was too furious at the moment to care.