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Chapter Text

Cokeworth, August 1976

Even the breeze is warm and Lily feels it everywhere, lifting her dress up, tugging at her hair, turning the pages of Witch Weekly. She can feel the sun burning through her eyelids but she doesn’t want to move, not yet. Up here, on the only hill in Cokeworth, it’s just her. She can finally breathe. Up here, she’s the only person in the world and she can pretend that all she has to worry about is staying cool. The feeling of relief won’t last. She knows it won’t, but it’s nice to have it, just for a second.

At the end of fifth year all she wanted was for summer to come and now, all she wants is September 1^st to hurry up. She needs to get out of Cokeworth. Away from Petunia who has dragged out moving to London for weeks. Away from all the places she and Sev used to call theirs, where they would sit and chat for hours about Hogwarts and magic and make plans with stars in their eyes about how they would travel around Europe together, just like all the other witches and wizards before them. Away from the illness that takes a little bit more of her mum every day, hurting her dad too. It hurts to see him losing her when she can’t do anything about it. Cokeworth used to be home. When she was a child, Lily thought that it was the best place in the world, the only place that mattered. Now it hurts to be here.

“Lily?” She snaps upright, and for a second wishes she’d never left her room this morning. Her house is the one place Sev hasn’t approached all summer. Everywhere else has been fair game to him. The park where they first met. The grocers where he’d follow her around the aisles as she picked up food for her mum. The graveyard where he’d wait for her on Sundays to come out from the service. He’s been everywhere. Like a disease. A disease which stabs her every time she looks at its cause.

“No.” Lily stands before he can step any closer, scooping up her magazine and shoes, holding them to her chest like a shield. Her wand is tucked into the waistband of her underwear and she regrets that choice too.

Sev stands frozen a few feet away, robes as black as the coal that Lily’s father mines. “I just want –“

“I don’t care. I’ve told you a thousand times already, Severus. I don’t care.” She’s not sure who it hurts more.

“Can’t you just listen?” Desperation drips over his words. The lump in her throat tightens. But she can’t.

“I don’t want to listen.” The breeze blows his robes up and she sees the new hem of his trousers, stitched shoddily, without care. It’s so familiar, so him that it almost makes her want to listen. Almost. “We aren’t friends anymore. I never should have been friends with you in the first place.”

“You don’t know what’s –“

“And do you know what’s happening? To people like me? To people you call mudbloods, to people you think are dirty, lesser than you?” She spits every syllable, wishing that almost-feeling hadn’t happened, wishing it was easy to hate him. It was, in a way, but he knew so much of her and she knew so much of him. “Your friends are killing them Sev, and killing muggles too, for sport. Maybe it’ll be my parents in The Daily Prophet tomorrow.” 

“I wouldn’t let –“

Lily laughs bitterly now, at him, the idea of him having any sway so ridiculous that even he doesn’t believe himself. “It’s over Sev. We aren’t friends.” She turns quickly, not wanting him to get another word in and runs down the hill, the ground hard and hot under her feet. Every step makes her sweat, every step gets her further away from him. She doesn’t look behind her to see if he’s following, just runs until she hits the pavement and then stops, feet burning on the tarmac. She drops her shoes and steps into them, trying to catch her breath.

Her back is wet with sweat, her dress sticking to her like it has been all summer. Every movement is hot and sticky.

The sun taunts her as she walks home and now she lets herself cry, licking the tears away when they reach her lips. Summer is too much, Sev is too much, home is too much.

11 days Evans, then you’re out, she tells herself. 11 days and then you’re out.

“Lily? Is that you?” her Mum calls from the kitchen as the porch door shuts behind her and Lily debates turning around and walking back out.

She can’t, though. “Yes Mum, it’s me.”

“Where have you been?”

“The hill,” she says as she walks into the kitchen, not surprised to find her mum at the stove and her dad sitting at the table, crossword in front of him.

“You didn’t tell us you were going out,” he says without looking up.

“I told Mum,” Lily says.

There’s a pause then her mum says quietly, “Sorry love, must have slipped my mind.”

“It doesn’t matter, she’s back now.” Her dad is looking at her now, staring at her over his glasses, and Lily thinks he’s probably wondering if he should have just stuck with having one child.

“I’ll write a note next time.” It’s an apology, sort of, and he nods and then pulls out the chair next to him. “Come help me with this whilst your mum finishes tea. I’m stuck.”

All Petunia needs to cause a fight these days is just to be there, so Lily takes the high road when she comes through the front door and promptly stuffs a forkful of mash potato into her mouth.

“You started without me?” Petunia asks from the doorway, affronted. Lily is tempted to roll her eyes. Of course they started without her, she’s an hour late.

“You said you’d be back at five and it’s gone six, love,” her dad tries to reason softly. Lily watches Petunia consider this, and then wonders how her parents can stand her recently. She never used to be like this. So… entitled. At least Lily gets to leave. They’ve had to put up with it all year round.

“Yours is hot in the oven, don’t worry, don’t worry.” Her mum leaps up and opens the oven for Petunia to see, trying to appease her. “See?”

Petunia takes a moment then absentmindedly humphs. “Right. Well, Vernon is visiting tomorrow so you better not start without me then!”

Lily almost chokes on her forkful of peas. “What?”

“Vernon is visiting tomorrow,” Her sister says, looking down her nose at Lily whilst she takes off her gloves and sits down. “I thought I told you?”

“You didn’t,” Lily says, looking at her dad and trying not to be accusatory. “No one did.”

“We thought we’d take you two out for tea, love, let Lily stay at home to finish her summer homework. Then there’s not a crowd at the dinner table.”

Oh, thank fuck, Lily holds back a sigh of relief.

“Well, that would be nice, I do think Vernon prefers it when it’s just us,” Petunia sniffs, sickly sweet. Lily wants to kick her under the table. That would wipe away the snooty smile.

Her dad just nods and says, “perfect.”

“That’ll be lovely.” Her mum smiles. Lily wonders if her mum can remember that Vernon is a knob or if she’s just pretending for all their sakes.

Lily’s dad waits for her mum to sit back down then says, carefully, “will you be going back to London with him?”

“Yes,” Petunia replies, as if it’s obvious.

“Well, do you think he’d mind giving us a lift too? It means we don’t have to buy two sets of train tickets.”

Petunia looks at her dad as if he’s asked Vernon to cut his toenails. “Why are you going to London?” Her furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips make her look almost a decade older than she really is.

“Lily needs to get her school things, doesn’t she?” Her dad clears his throat. “We’ve already left it quite late.” He smiles at Lily and Lily smiles back, ignoring Petunia’s sour face across the table.

“I can ask… I don’t know if he’ll say yes. And we’re taking the last of my things back too, so there might not be room.”

Vernon’s car is too big for its own good and they all know it. But her dad just nods, and asks someone to pass the gravy.

When the doorbell rings the next night, Lily turns off the TV set and runs upstairs so she doesn’t have to deal with the prick for even a second. His booming voice fills the house and, in retaliation, she turns her cassette player up too loud.

It hurts her ears and she lets it, flopping onto her bed too hard and then jumping right back up when she sees an owl sitting on her desk.

“What the –“ Lily turns the music down, not wanting to hurt the owl’s ears. She takes a second to realise that it must have come in through the open window. It hoots softly at her and sticks its leg out. There’s a small envelope attached, and a muggle stamp in the corner, which seems very pointless given the method of delivery. She unties the envelope, giving the owl a few strokes, and apologises that she doesn’t have any snacks. The owl hoots, less softly, and flies to sit on top of her wardrobe. Clearly whoever has written is expecting a reply.

Vernon’s voice drifts up from the living room, but Lily’s too distracted now too care that he’s lingering instead of making sure they make the reservation. As Suzi Quatro tells her to come alive, Lily breaks the envelope’s seal and pulls out the parchment inside. She sees the handwriting, looks back at the owl, and then – “Of course. Idiot.”

Dear Evans,

Please read this before you throw it in the bin. I never said sorry last term for what happened and I wanted to but I didn’t know if you wanted me to. So I didn’t and that was stupid because I should have. Hopefully this letter will show you that I am sorry and that I was sorry and I probably will be sorry until I die.

Snape called you a you-know-what and he shouldn’t have and that doesn’t make what I did okay, I just want you to know that I’m sorry he called you that too. Neither of us should have done what we did that day. I thought it was my place to defend you and it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have asked you out either. I don’t know why I did. It was an in-the-moment thing, I think. All I know is that I wasn’t thinking at the time, obviously, and thinking about it now is painful because it was such a class arse thing to do. Godric would be ashamed. Sirius told mum about it and she threw a spatula at me.

But yeah, I’m sorry, and I hope you’re okay.

Enjoy the rest of your summer, see you at school.

James

P.S. I told Babbity not to wait for a reply, but she’s a big fan of bread, so if she’s hanging around, that’ll be why

Lily reads the letter once, twice and then looks at Babbity on top of her wardrobe, and wonders if the owl would tell James if she threw it in the bin. She doesn’t want to throw the letter in the bin, she’s just considering all her options. One option is replying. Except she has no idea what she would say. She reads the letter again, just to make sure she hasn’t misread any of his scrawl. And it is a scrawl, a messy, languid scrawl that means almost all of his essays have to be rewritten so the professors can actually read them. Lily thinks of him sitting in his room writing the letter. Did he have to rewrite it? Did he do drafts? Was his bin full of scraps of paper, like in the films, with half-started and half-hearted versions he just couldn’t get right? Does she care? Did he get halfway through and realise no one but him would be able to read it? Does she care?

“Don’t look at me like that,” she tells Babbity when she realises that she’s been standing in the middle of her room, rereading the letter for a good four of Suzi’s songs. “I don’t care. I don’t.”

Babbity cocks her head, ruffles her feathers and hoots. Probably asking for bread. Lily looks at the letter, her name, Evans, taking up half a line in his handwriting. Then she tells herself to stop being such a fucking flannel, Evans, throws the letter on her desk, and tells Babbity, who is incredibly judgemental for an owl, that she’ll be back in a minute with some bread. At least this gets her a happy hoot.

Downstairs the trumpet that is Vernon’s voice is even louder but Lily heads straight for the kitchen, grabs a slice of bread from the bread basket and jogs back upstairs before it gives her a headache. She looks up at the wardrobe to find that Babbity has moved from her original perch and is now on Lily’s desk, pecking at her Prefect badge. “What are you, a magpie?” Lily asks, quickly tearing the bread into small pieces and making a mental note to clear the crumbs up later. Babbity loses all interest in the badge immediately and Lily picks it up out of harm’s way.

Sirius told mum about it and she threw a spatula at me…  James’ words stroll back through her head and she sighs, rubbing her finger over the badge’s shiny surface. His mum knows about her, that he asked her out. Does she care?

It annoys her, the question, repeating itself over and over, squeezing out the memory she’s been trying all summer to forget. Does she care? She knows the answer, or she thinks she does, except she doesn’t really know at all, does she.

“Lily?” Her dad knocks on the door, and Lily jumps, not having heard him on the stairs. “We’re just about to leave, just wanted to let you know.”

“I thought your reservation was at eight?” She asks, looking at her watch as she goes to meet him on the landing. It’s half past.

Her dad shrugs. “You know what Vernon is like.”

“Unfortunately,” she says, not thinking. He shakes his head but laughs too, looking only vaguely disapproving.

“We’ll be back by eleven hopefully. Make sure you’re not hurting your ears,” he says as he nods to the cassette player. “I’ve written the restaurant’s number down in case there’s an emergency.”

“Thanks dad. Have a good time.” She gives him a dutiful hug, dragging it out for a second longer than she would normally, and he gives her a kiss on the forehead.

“Don’t wreck the house,” he says after, over his shoulder in way of a goodbye.

“I’ll try not to. Bye mum!” Lily leans over the bannister, purposefully not acknowledging Vernon, whose thick neck bulges over his collar as he looks up at her from the hallway, frowning.

Her mum waves then is hurried out of the house by Petunia. Lily watches them go, flipping Vernon off once his back is turned. The front door shuts after her dad and Lily waits for the roar of Vernon’s car to start before going back into her room.

“Finished?” she asks Babbity, who just looks at her, picks up the last piece of bread in her beak, ruffles her wings and then soars out the open window, disappearing into the dark sky. The force of the owl’s flight knocks the letter off her desk and Lily crouches to pick it up, placing it and her prefect badge carefully on top of last year’s books. Her name in his handwriting screams at her so she just turns her music back up and drowns it out.

The front door opens again a little past midnight and Lily can hear her parents shushing each other as they come up the stairs. Her light is off and she pretends to be asleep when her mum pokes her head in to check.

“She’s fine,” her dad reassures from behind her mum, in the corridor and Lily waits for the floorboard outside their bedroom door to creak before opening her eyes again. Vernon and Petunia come up the stairs a few seconds later, and they’re much less concerned about waking Lily up. Vernon’s feet sound like bricks every time he steps and it’s only when Petunia’s door shuts behind them that his voice, complaining about how dry the chicken was, is muffled. Although at the time it had been horrible, Lily’s glad that she and Petunia had been given separate rooms when Lily returned from her first year at Hogwarts.

She imagines the havoc it would cause if they were still sharing and Vernon was relegated to the sofa.

A few minutes later the house falls quiet again and Lily pulls her magazine from under the covers. Witch Weekly had generally never been considered highly political or even worth reading by a lot of witches and wizards she knows. It’s known for waxing lyrical about quidditch players and advertising the latest cleaning potion, not strong political stances. Lily had thought the same until a few months ago when she’d flicked to the back and found a list of all the wizard and muggle disappearances that were believed to be linked to the Dark Arts. There was no commentary, no accompanying article. Just three columns of names, ordered by the date they were reported missing. It was too many names and it wasn’t enough, was never going to be enough, to simply be reading the list. It’s all Lily can do though, for now.

Read the list, commit the names to memory and wait.

Vernon’s car is a monster and yet it still feels too small with all five of them squashed in, Lily wedged between her dad and her sister in the back. The radio is barely audible over the engine, which Lily doesn’t really mind because Afternoon Delight is playing again, for the third time since they left Cokeworth, and she’s not sure if she’d be able to handle it full volume. No one is talking because, well. They have nothing to talk about.

Any appropriate topics of conversation were probably worn out at dinner last night and no one’s about to ask Lily if she’s excited to return to her magic school when Vernon is in the car. When Petunia had introduced Lily to him, she’d pulled her aside first and sternly informed her that Vernon believed Lily attended a strict, all-girls boarding school in Scotland for young women who needed guidance. What sort of guidance has never been made clear. The general fib the Evans family stuck with was that Lily attended a posh, private school in Scotland which accepted five scholarship students a year and weren’t they lucky to have such a clever daughter? Clearly, Petunia was not a fan of this version.

Lily notices Vernon looking at her in the rearview mirror now, eyebrows creased together as if he too is unsure of what guidance his girlfriend’s sister needs. She smiles sweetly at him. Then she rests her head on her dad’s shoulder and tries to sleep.

She’s shaken awake later and opens her eyes to see that the countryside is long behind them. They’re stopped in a bus bay just beneath the Charing Cross street sign. “Come on Lils, there’s a bus coming,” her dad says, hurrying her out. Her parents are already on the pavement and Petunia is in the front seat, trying to justify why the only place that Lily can get her uniform from is in London.

“Thank you,” Lily says as she scrambles out. There’s a grunt in reply then the car is roaring away again. Lily and her parents have to dive back as the bus pulls in and a swarm of commuters and tourists tumble out.

She grabs her mum’s hand and leads the way out of the melee, her feet instinctively carrying her towards The Leaky Cauldron. It sticks out like a sore thumb to her, but she knows that to everyone else it’s just the weird gap between buildings. McGonagall had helped her parents see it on their first visit and, ever since, they’ve been privy to its existence.

“Ready?” she asks her mum over her shoulder, checking that her dad isn’t far behind. Her mum smiles excitedly. The illness is nowhere to be seen, not even hidden in her new wrinkles. There’s a steady stream of witches and wizards walking through the pub’s door and they join the queue, behind a family struggling to keeps its youngest member calm. Newly eleven, Lily guesses.

“Remember that?” her mum asks, squeezing Lily’s hand.

Lily grins. “I couldn’t wait. McGonagall had to ask me to be quiet because she was worried I was drawing too much attention.”

“You were,” her dad chimes in, ruffling her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re going into your sixth year already.” They both beam at her and Lily thinks their smiles could power her for the rest of her life.

“And top of my class,” she winks, trying to disguise her blush.

“Intelligence,” her dad notes with a solemn face. “It’s a family gene.”

“Not from your side,” her mum says as she nudges him in the stomach and Lily wishes this moment could last forever. They reach the door then and shuffle through, all breathing a sigh of relief as cool air replaces the thick humidity of London. There’s no way that the temperature isn’t being magically controlled and Lily is grateful all over again for this wonderful world she’s lucky enough to be a part of.

“Please no dawdling! Lots of traffic today, Hogwarts students please go through. No dawdling!” Someone is calling from the back of the pub and they follow the sound. “Peak time, peak time, Hogwarts students please go through.” It’s Tom, the landlord, and he looks exhausted. “No dawdling!”

They join the queue at the back of the pub and, in no time, have been herded through the archway. “Good to see we aren’t the only ones leaving it to the last minute!” her dad jokes as they’re swept up in the crowd.

Diagon Alley is bustling as always except, compared to when Lily visited at the beginning of the summer with Mary, there’s a lot more people her age and younger and a lot of names being called. She loves it. Everywhere she turns someone is carrying a cauldron full of books or the latest broomstick or a cage making noises she can’t quite name. The fear she’d woken up with this morning of possibly bumping into the Slytherins or, worse, Potter, is replaced with excitement and she can’t help the smile on her face.

Her mum pulls the list from her bag and they start shopping, spending longer than necessary in every shop because they all want to look at what’s new. Lily is stopped every few minutes by friendly faces and students she’d helped pass Potions or Charms at some point. Her parents’ smiles grow wider with every hello and wave until Lily is worried their faces will break.

Her friends and dormmates have all done their shopping already, able to get to London much more easily with at least one parent being magic. Lily had been upset at first that she wouldn’t be seeing them but being with her parents is just as nice. It’s only ten days until they’ll all be back on the Hogwarts Express together anyway.

“Don’t be fooled Evans.” Hot breath tickles her neck and she spins, hand ready to jump to her hair where her wand is keeping it in a bun. Avery leers over, her turning a pack of Exploding Snap cards in his hands over and over again. Her heart races and she looks desperately around for her parents. They’re on the other side of the shop, watching a demonstration of Gobstones. They’re safe.

“Having a good summer, Avery?” she asks, meeting his gaze without flinching. He can't do anything here. Not in Diagon Alley. 

“Don’t expect special treatment anymore, Evans. You’re filthy,” he sneers. “Snape won’t protect you now, your time is coming.”

Lily’s hand twitches, “Thanks for letting me know, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She steps around him, “See you at school.”  

He doesn’t follow. 

As soon as she’s stepped into another aisle she lets her breath out, sagging against the shelves.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Avery doesn’t scare her, not when they’re in public and he wouldn’t be able to do anything without causing chaos. Avery hadn’t ever scared her. What does frighten her is his confidence, what his words meant. It’s getting worse, growing, spreading like an infestation. When rumours first started spreading that something was happening, that someone was building an army, that he was as strong and powerful as Grindewald, she hadn’t understood. She’d been too young, too new to the world and its history.

All the wars she’d learnt about in primary school had been fought with guns, tanks, and planes. Not wands and creatures. Magic. None of them had lasted this long without any real battles. No leader had waited this long to actually start something instead of just threatening it. They’d all ended too, within a few years. Lily knows this one hasn’t even begun properly. He’s still preparing. They call him the Dark Lord and revere him as a god. Lily isn’t sure if she believes in God, any god, but she knows he isn’t one.

She counts to ten, pushing Avery to the back of her mind with every number, and then goes to find her parents. The shopping is all done and they’re all weighed down with books so she suggests they go for an ice cream then head home. They ask if she’s okay and she forces a yawn for their benefit. Lily doesn’t want to let Avery ruin their day but now that she knows he’s there she can’t help but want to protect her parents. And the best way to protect them is to get them out of Diagon Alley and back into London, the muggle side.

On the train back, two hours later, Lily watches the city turn to country. Then back to city. Then country… county… country and then Cokeworth; home, the factory’s chimney rising up in the distance. Her parents are still doing the crossword together and she’s been pretending to read her new Potions book but she hasn’t been able to focus. Ten days and the view from the window will be country, country, country then her second home, Hogwarts.

Ten days, and she’ll be back with her friends, and her parents will be alone. With her at school, there will be no one to protect them.

Her thoughts run before she can stop them.

Maybe it’ll be my parents tomorrow.

You’re filthy.

Enjoy the rest of your summer...

She lingers on that one. It is, decidedly, a much nicer thought than everything else. She won’t think about Sev or Avery. Not anymore, not till she’s back in Hogwarts. She’ll spend the next ten days with her parents, hot, sweating, happy, safe.

Enjoy the rest of your summer.

She will.

Chapter Text

Kings Cross is crowded, as it is every year, and as they push her trolley through the crush of people Lily tries to spot the commuters from her fellow students. They’re given away by the owls in cages and parents wearing a mismatch of suits and pyjamas and skirts. Around the barrier to Platform 9 and ¾ it’s even more obvious. She holds back a laugh as she notices a guard arguing with someone holding a rat.

“Lily,” she turns around at her mum’s voice, “did you say you were meeting Mary somewhere?”

Oh shit, “Yeah, by the sandwich kiosk,” Lily says, realising that she’d completely forgotten. They reposition themselves by the kiosk and enjoy the show whilst they wait.

The older students or the people who have had children at Hogwarts before easily melt through the barrier and disappear, but the first years and the muggleborns stick out as they stumble through the barrier, some not even checking to see if any muggles are looking. Lily remembers her first time, holding her dad’s hand as all four of them charged at the barrier and then burst through into a realm of smoke. McGonagall had told them what to expect when she visited with Lily’s acceptance letter. Hearing about it had been nothing like the real thing.

“Lily!” Mary appears suddenly in the crowd in front of them and Lily opens her arms ready for a hug. “It’s been so long!” Says Mary as she crashes into her, grinning.

“I saw you two months ago, MacDonald,” Lily laughs, squeezing her friend tightly because, whatever she says, two months is a long time.

“Whatever. Your hair’s grown,” Mary replies as she untangles herself and holds Lily at arm’s length. Lily is reminded of her late aunt who used to do the same thing to her and Petunia whenever she visited. Mary seems happy with her assessment though because her bright grin stays in place.

“That’s what hair does,” Lily flicks at Mary’s short brown bob. “You’ve had yours cut again.”

“Are you parents here, Mary?” Interrupts Lily’s dad, stepping forwards for his own hug.

Mary obliges with a smile, and hugs Lily’s mum too. “They’re just com – look, there they are.” She points and Lily sees Clare and Archibald MacDonald approaching, pushing the trolley Mary had clearly abandoned the minute she spotted Lily. The adults say hello to each other, exchanging hugs and agreeing that it feels like yesterday when they were sending the girls off for their first years.

“Are we meeting the others?” Mary asks, pulling Lily to the side.

“Maya wrote last week, said her parents weren’t staying because of work or something so she’ll save us a carriage. I don’t know about the others, Marlene’s nearly always late.” Lily says with a shrug, pushing herself up on tiptoes to scan the crowd to make sure none of their friends have slipped through without them noticing.

“Tegan’s probably on the platform, we should go through,” Mary nods towards the barrier eagerly, “I want to see everyone.”

Archibald notices his daughter easing the trolley away and laughs before asking, “Eager to get on the train girls?”

“Eager to get away from us more likely,” Claire says with a shake of her head. Lily can see the fond way she looks at Mary though and, flashing a look to her mum, sees the same expression there.

“Come on, we’ll go through first if that’s alright Lils?” Asks her dad, taking her mum’s hand. Her mum looks a bit apprehensive now at the mention of the barrier, never having quite gotten used to the idea of stone that isn’t really stone.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Lily says in reassurance, smiling and taking the trolley. They watch as her parents casually stroll up to the barrier, let a lone student run through with his trunk, then melt through too.

“Us next!” Mary declares, nudging her trolley into Lily’s. Her owl, Smokey, takes this as offense and joins in the chorus of owls already screeching. Lily grins, tightens her grip on the trolley’s handles and pushes, sprinting alongside Mary. They don’t need to sprint, but it’s fun. She shuts her eyes as the stone approaches, resisting the natural urge to swerve or slow down. When she opens them again, they’re on the platform and surrounded by a thick veil of smoke and noise; Kings Cross is loud but it has nothing on Platform 9 and ¾. Lily can feel the frantic energy as parents yell goodbye and students make a last minute check to make sure they haven’t forgotten anything and owls taunt the cats who can’t reach them in their cages.  

“Can you see my parents?” Lily asks Mary as they step out of the way of the barrier and try not to crash into anyone else’s trolley.

“By the train,” Mary points. Lily looks through the haze and sees them too, standing with Rita and Leander McKinnon. “Guess Marls isn’t late.” They steer their trolleys in that direction and slowly make their way through the throng, Lily checking over her shoulder too many times. Diagon Alley was one thing; there had been a high chance they’d done their shopping on another day, earlier in the summer. They have to be here though, somewhere on the Platform, standing with their parents, saying hello to friends.

Last year her parents and Sev’s mum had stood together, their stilted conversation easy to block out because she and Sev were talking about what Slughorn might have in store for them. She’d seen only Potter’s parents once or twice on the platform over the years. They were always smiling and surrounded by a bunch of other parents, laughing and not letting their son out of their sight until they absolutely had too. They are here, she knows, somewhere, and she doesn’t want to have to face either of them yet.

“Mary! Lily! Look at you two!” Rita sweeps them both into a big hug and squeezes tightly. “We were just telling your parents, Lily,” she lets them go and smiles. “Marlene is helping the little ones on to the train, she’ll be back in a moment to get her own stuff.”

“How was Spain?” Asks Mary dutifully.

“Absolutely wonderful,” Rita says as she nudges her husband, “wasn’t it?”

“Marlene dragged us everywhere, I don’t think there was anything of historical significance we didn’t see,” he laughs affectionately, and Mary and Lily share a knowing look. If they couldn’t be seen, Mary would be rolling her eyes.

“What was the weather like, we’ve never been?” Lily’s mum asks and then doesn’t get an answer because at that moment Marlene comes flying out of nowhere. She barrels into Mary and Lily, almost sending them flying.

“Marlene!” Rita scolds, shocked, but Marlene ignores her, not letting go.

“I missed you, Merlin’s arse, I missed you!” She cries into Mary’s shoulder, almost deafening Lily.

“We missed you too Marls,” Mary laughs. “Now get off.”

Marlene steps back, finally, and grins as she asks, “Where are the others?”

“Haven’t seen them, but Maya said she would save us a compartment,” Lily says with a shrug, waving towards the steam engine.

“Onto the train then?” Clare asks, coming up behind Mary. The girls nod in unison and begin levitating their trunks off the trolleys, Mary carefully positioning Smokey’s cage under her arm so she doesn’t have to come back for him.

“We’ll meet you back here once we’ve found a compartment,” Marlene says over her shoulders to the parents as she steps on to the train. Mary follows and Lily gives her mum and dad a quick smile then steps on too, trunk hovering in front of her. It feels good to do magic, even this tiny, easy bit and her hand tingles slightly as the girls make their way slowly down the crowded corridor.

Students overflow from compartments, and they’re stopped every few minutes and almost lose Marlene when they come across some of the Gryffindor team. Eventually though, they’ve pushed their way past the main traffic and find Maya and Tegan sitting in a compartment, Tegan sprawled over one of the benches whilst Maya sits on the floor, stroking Artemis, Tegan’s cat.

“Hello there!” Marlene announces, swinging the compartment door open and opening her arms wide. She just manages to land her trunk on the shelf before she is accosted by Maya.

“Finally!” Tegan leaps up too and, almost stepping on her cat, drags Mary and Lily into the compartment and hugs them. Lily almost loses a hold of her trunk but she manages to levitate it next to Marlene’s over Tegan’s shoulder.

“How are you? How was your summer?” Mary is asking.

“Long,” Tegan sighs dramatically and releases them. Then Artemis meows in expectation. They all have to spend a few moments giving him some attention until he’s satisfied and stalks over to lay down where Mary has put Smokey’s cage next to Phil’s, Maya’s owl.

“So Mar, I know you’ve been dying to tell us, wow was Spain?” Mary asks Marlene once she’s hugged Maya.

Marlene flicks her hair, bleached even more blonde from the Spanish sun and smiles coyly as she says, “It was perfect.”

“You better get all of that out of your system now you know,” Lily teases gently. “Bragging about your amazing holiday is only allowed for 24 hours - then you have to shut up.”

“Them’s the rules,” Maya agrees solemnly.

“Whatever,” Marlene shrugs, “it was perfect.”

“Let’s say goodbye to the ‘rents before she starts waxing lyrical,” Tegan says with a roll of her eyes, dodging Marlene’s replying pinch.

“Reckon the compartment will be alright now with our stuff in it?” Maya asks.

“Yeah, come on, mum’s dying to see everyone,” Marlene slings an arm over Maya’s shoulders and leads the way back out into the corridor and off the train. They find the group of parents quickly and there are a lot of hellos before there are any goodbyes.

Then it’s five to and there’s a sudden wave of moment towards the train. Maya and Tegan dive on, their parents having left a while ago, whilst Marlene, Mary and Lily are subjected to a last round of hugs.

“Remember to write,” Lily’s mum says sternly, as if they both hadn’t been sat at the kitchen table crying this morning when Lily promised to write every week.

“And if you need anything, or you’ve forgotten something,” her dad pulls her in for one last hug, “just ask.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Lily says, burying her face in his jacket, trying to commit his smell to memory.

“Work hard too,” her mum rubs her back gently, “and have fun.”

Lily lets go of her dad and gives her mum another hug, whispering “I love you.” She ignores the tug behind her eyes, knowing it will only upset her mum if she cries.

“Love you too,” her mum smiles as they part, tapping her cheek gently, “now get gone or you’ll miss the train.”

“Love you!” Her dad calls after her as she turns to go, following Mary and Marlene who are waiting in the train’s doorway for her. She boards and they tug her down the corridor to where Tegan and Maya are guarding a window for all of them to lean out of. The whistle blows and the girls hang out, along with every other student on the train, waving and calling out goodbyes. Lily grins at her parents, waving furiously, feeling the tears prick at the back of her eyes as they recede into the distance and eventually disappear.

“And we’re off!” Marlene squeals once the platform has been replaced by countryside and everyone begins to return to their compartments, the corridor crowded again.

“I better go,” Lily says, raising her voice over the closest compartment of second years yelling about their summers. “I’ll see you later.”

“Say hello to Remus for us!” Mary reminds her.

“Ugh, almost forgot you were a prefect,” Maya groans, screwing her face up in mock disgust.

“Says the girl who just spent her summer working for the Ministry,” teases Marlene.

“See if you can find the trolley on the way back,” Marlene says, ignoring the others and giving Lily a playful shove, “I’m starved and mum only packed sandwiches.”

“Anything else?” Lily asks dryly.

“Bugger off?” Says Tegan, laughing. Lily flips the girls off and then turns and heads down the train, towards the prefect carriage. Last year she’d found Remus on the platform first and they’d headed their together, nervous and quietly proud of each other. This year however she doesn’t feel half as nervous as she approaches the prefect carriage and, besides, she’d much rather only see Remus here, and not anywhere where Potter might also be.

“Hullo Evans,” Caelum Worthright greets her when she enters, patting the space next to him. Lily goes over gratefully, having noticed that the only other available seats are next to the Slytherin prefects, who Lily has never particularly gotten on with. “Good summer?”

“Yeah thanks, good to be back though.” She smiles, “you?”

Caelum shrugs, “same old, same old really.” Lily nods, and Caelum goes back to reading the newspaper. He’s nice and they get on, he’s also quite shy yet Lily thinks this is what she appreciates most about him; he doesn’t mind comfortable silence. Remus enters then and Lily jumps up to give him a hug. He hugs back and Lily notices that there’s more of him than there had been last year, less pokey bone.

“Now that everyone’s here –“ the head boy, a Ravenclaw who seems very excited to have the honour, stands and begins to talk, looking pointedly at Lily and Remus until they sit down. The meeting is no different from usual; the Head Boy and Head Girl welcome everyone, the newest prefects introduce themselves, and then a rota is handed out and they’re told to hand it in once they’ve been given their new timetables so duties can be assigned. Lily has to wait until afterwards to talk to Remus. It’s only once they’ve left, said goodbye to Caelum and started heading down the train that they actually speak.

“Did you finish Les Miserables?” Lily asks, walking backwards down the now empty corridor so they can hear each other easily.

Remus rolls his eyes, “it’s a long book, Evans.”

“It was a long summer, Lupin.”

“I’m halfway through. What about you, caught up on Doctor Who?”

“Yes and I cannot believe that we’re missing the new series by three days, it’s a joke,” Lily says.

“I notice you’ve lost the Sarah Jane hair,” Remus eyes her hair, now past her shoulders and down to her collarbones. Christmas of fifth year she’d gone home, watched the latest series and then marched into Val’s Cuts, the local hairdressers, and given Val a picture of Sarah Jane Smith and her money. Over the summer, Lily had decided a fringe wasn’t actually her thing, so Val had taken the fringe out for her and now she’s growing all of her hair out. “It suits you longer.”

“Thanks,” she flicks it over her shoulder dramatically and he grins.

Then – “This is me.” He stops by the compartment Lily has just walked past and she pauses. “Want to come say hello?” Remus asks. It’s a prick move and he knows it.

Lily narrows her eyes. “Fuck off, Lupin,” she says with an attempt at a scowl. The compartment door slides open though and Peter peers out.

“Evans, didn’t see you there,” he says with a wave and from inside the compartment they hear something crash. “Remus, we told you not to come back unless you had pumpkin pasties. Do you have pumpkin pasties?”

Remus starts patting down his jacket and jeans and then reaches into his pocket, “Oh, yeah look, here you go–“ he pulls his hand out swiftly, giving Peter the middle finger, and then barges past him and Lily hears him telling whoever is inside “I’m not a fucking delivery service.” She knows who is inside. She just doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

“Good summer?” Peter asks and he’s looking at her as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and she hates all of them.

“Yeah thanks, very hot,”

“Disgusting, wasn’t it. Anyway, I have to go tell Remus that he’s a massive arse so I guess I’ll see you at the feast.” Peter salutes her with a smile and then shuts the compartment door. Lily turns tail and tries not to run. Vague shouting follows her but she tells herself it could be coming from any compartment, it doesn’t have to be –

“Alright, Evans?” Lily swings around. There he is, all hurricane hair and long limbs. And she blushes. What the fuck is wrong with you.

“Potter,” she acknowledges, watching as his hand jumps to his hair, of course, and he almost knocks his glasses off his face. He’s already wearing his Hogwarts robes and she hates herself for thinking he looks good in them but, well, he does, sort of. He’s also taller than he was at the end of fifth year, and Lily has to raise her chin to look at him properly.

“Good summer?” he asks, in the exact same voice Peter used, except Peter didn’t ask her out at the end of fifth year, or ridicule her best friend in front of the entire school, nor did he not talk to her the rest of term and then write an apology letter with ten days left to go of summer. So, really, it’s not the same voice Peter used at all.

“Above average.” Lily wonders why it’s so hard to talk to him, to be normal around him. She doesn’t hate him, isn’t really sure how anyone could ever truly hate him. She didn’t even hate him at the end of last term. Not properly. She’s never really known exactly how she feels because he moves too quickly for her feelings to keep up.

“Do anything interesting?” he leans against the carriage wall, finds even he can’t balance against the train’s movement, and then moves to put his hands in his pockets, forgetting that Hogwarts robes don’t have pockets.

“Not really.” Why did you write? is what she wants to ask, but the words won’t make it out. “What about you?”

“A lot of water fights and quidditch, not much else,” he says with a shrug. Suddenly, he straightens and tries to look her in the eye. He lands on her left ear instead. “Look,” and here it is. Whatever he’s about to say next is the real reason they’re standing in the corridor, being watched by a compartment of fourth year Gryffindors who know too much about their business because everyone knows too much about each other’s business at Hogwarts. “I didn’t expect you to reply, I just wanted to check you got my letter. I’d feel bad if Babbity flew all that way to deliver it to the wrong –“

“I got the letter,” Lily says, stopping him so he can’t ramble his way down a hole. “I- I, it was nice. I think your mum was right to throw the spatula.” What is she saying. She doesn’t know, because she hadn’t planned on having this conversation, yet. Not in the corridor on the way to Hogwarts, maybe not even until they’d been back for a week. Maybe, not even at all.

“My mum is usually right,” Potter says, looking as if she has no idea what she’s saying either. They settle into awkward silence, Lily wanting to leave but unable to turn and feeling as if there’s something more coming. Finally, he sticks his hand out, “Friends?”

And Lily almost loses it. Friends? Are they friends? Were they ever friends? Could they be friends? Doesn’t she want to be his friend? Taking his hand means agreeing, silently saying yes, we are friends, and I like you. Lily doesn’t know if she likes him, she doesn’t know what she thinks of him at all anymore because the boy who wrote the letter hadn’t sounded like the boy who took off Sev’s underwear that day by the lake and she doesn’t know this new boy. She’s starting to suspect she didn’t really know the old boy either.

“Friends.” And she shakes his hand, not knowing what else to do. The smile that crosses his face almost blows her away, and then he’s wiping it away, literally rubbing his cheek with his hand to hide it, and there’s his usual half smile, easy and with a lot less baggage than the one a second ago. Their hands drop back to their sides and they don’t need to talk anymore because they’ve decided they’re friends. It’s just they’ve never been friends, not this explicitly, so they don’t know what to say.

“Guess I’ll see you at the feast then,” Potter says a few seconds later.

“Yeah, see you there, Potter.” Lily gives him a nod and turns before he can walk away first or, Merlin forbid, ask something else. She can feel him watching her but she doesn’t look over her shoulder, just sets her sights firmly on the end of the carriage and walks until she reaches her compartment, not sparing anyone else a glance.

When she slides open the door, the girls all turn to look as she drops to the floor next to Maya, muttering when Marlene kicks her foot in lieu of asking what’s wrong. “Potter.”

“What the –“ Suddenly they’re all on the floor around her, squashed together, and Artemis leaps into the middle of the group to join the fun, curling up in Lily’s lap as if the cat knows Lily needs her.

Her hair falls around her face as she pulls her wand from her bun and she lets it, assuming that there’ll be some blushing in the next five minutes. “Muffliatio,” she points her wand at the door and then throws it onto the bench across from her.

“Well?” Demands Tegan and so Lily begins to explain, telling them about Sev harassing her every chance he could, all summer long, Potter’s letter and then their conversation in the corridor. Over the hot months she’d thought about putting it in letters but that would mean writing it out four times and knowing what she wanted to say. Plus, at the time she’d only had the Sev thing to write about. That would have just annoyed them all, whereas Potter related news always excites them beyond what Lily thinks is reasonable. When she finishes speaking, they all exchange looks as if Lily isn’t sat right in front of them and she briefly considers finding new friends. Then she decides that she’s in too deep now, and it’s not worth the effort after six years.

Maya speaks first, calm and like she’s known the whole story all along, “Well we all knew Snape wasn’t going to give up on you that easily, but you should have said. We would have come and hexed him.”

“Thanks,” Lily says sarcastically.

“Look,” Marlene says clapping a hand onto Lily’s shoulder in what Lily guesses is meant to be a comforting guesture, “we told you from the start Snape was a no good piece of shit and –“

“Marls!” Mary stops Marlene from talking with a sharp nudge to her ribs.

“Well we did!” All of her friends make eye contact then, except not with her, and it doesn’t help the bubble of shame growing in her stomach. Everybody could see what he was except her. “I’m just saying none of us are gonna let him near you at Hogwarts and him and his cronies can fuck right off.” Finishes Marlene, frowning at Mary.

“That’s not what you were saying.” Says Mary, returning the frown and narrowing her eyes.

“Sev isn’t the problem. I know now that he’s a dick. He’s in the past. I know where I stand with him but, Potter…” Lily sighs in exasperation, “where the hell do I stand with him?”

“Where do you want to stand with him?” Tegan asks, as if this question is the answer to all of Lily’s turmoil. It’s not.

“She just said she doesn’t know Tegan,” Maya says, snapping her fingers impatiently. “Keep up.”

“Well you just agreed to be friends didn’t you? That’s a start.” Mary prompts and the others hum in agreement.  

Lily shrugs, “I guess.”

“Anything from the trolley dears?” They all look up at the interruption and see the door has been slid open to reveal the little old witch and her trolley of goodies.

“Everything,” Lily mutters, pushing herself up from the floor and onto the bench. Then, audibly, “five sugar quills, please.”

The others rush to get their orders in, searching through pockets for enough knuts and sickles. By the time they’ve all ordered and got their snacks, they’ve all silently decided that they don’t need to talk about Snape or James anymore because there are much more important topics to catch up on. Such as Marlene’s amazing holiday to Spain and Maya’s three-week internship with the Ministry.

Lily goes out to patrol the corridor once or twice, stopping every time she nears Potter’s carriage and returning to her own. When the sun starts to set through the window and they haven’t seen a house in over an hour, they begin to pull on their robes, closing the door’s blind so Maya can adjust her hijab easily. Soon the lights of Hogsmeade will appear through the window and the corridor will begin to fill as over excited students fight to be the first off the train.

The girls stay in their compartment until almost the last moment once the train has stopped, laughing as Tegan battles with Artemis in an attempt to get the cat to go into her basket. Once Artemis has finally settled, only happy to do so after thoroughly scratching up Tegan’s arms, they join the queue leaving the train and step off into the cool Scottish night.

At one end of the platform Hagrid is herding first years into his shadow, lantern held aloft. Lily and the girls wave, then Lily convinces a few hesitant eleven year olds nearby that what they heard on the train is not true and Hagrid will not be eating them any time soon.

“Ah, to be young,” giggles Mary as she loops her arm through Lily’s and leads the girls towards the carriages awaiting them. They hop into the first one they come to and gently bully Marlene about the fact that in their first year, she threw up on the boats. Only Maya had seen it, but they’ve all heard the story so many times it feels like they were there. The carriage ride barely takes any time at all after the long train journey and Lily is relieved when they climb down and look up to see Hogwarts, to see home. The castle stands strong in the night, all of its windows lit up. Already noise from the Great Hall spills out the doors, warming the Entrance Hall and steps with chatter and laughter. McGonagall stands at the top of the stairs and she waves to the girls when they reach the top.

“Hey prof!” Shouts Tegan, grinning.

“Hurry up now, you don’t want to miss the sorting,” is all McGonagall says in return, waving the throngs of students past her. Maya drags Tegan away before she can say anything else and they walk through the Entrance Hall, past the glittering house points held in their hourglasses, and then, finally, through the tall doors and into the Great Hall.

Just like it does every year, the sight takes her breath away and Lily finds herself craning her neck to see the clear blue sky, littered with stars. Marlene guides her forwards, used to it by now, and Lily holds back a smile at how easy it is to be here, to be back, to be with her friends who know every inch of her and love her for it.

“You’re gonna trip,” Marlene warns her just before she bumps into the bench and they both climb over, Maya, Mary and Tegan sitting opposite them. The benches fill up and luckily Lily is facing the wall so doesn’t have to deal with looking at the Slytherin table. She spots Remus and Sirius diagonally across from her, about a dozen people down towards the teachers’ table, which must mean Potter is on her side but you aren’t thinking about him, you aren’t thinking about him.

The doors close and an excited hush settles over the hall, because the when they next open the first years will walk through, led by McGonagall and the Sorting Hat. They only have to wait a few minutes for this to happen and everyone is leaning, standing up, kneeling on the benches to see them, watch their nervous faces, try and spot siblings.

McGonagall sets the stool down with a pointed crack and places the Sorting Hat on top. That’s when the Great Hall falls into total silence. Under the table Marlene is nervously fiddling with her robes in anticipation and Lily lays her hand on top of hers to calm her down.

Finally, the Sorting Hat opens it torn mouth and begins,

“Every year I do this job,

watch students sit at tables,

and you may think that I’m squab

but to date I’ve not been wrong.

So step up, sit on my stool,

find out where you belong here

let me prove that I’m no fool.

I’ll show you where you need to go.

For you, maybe Slytherin,

the house built on sharp cunning

it’s here you’ll learn how to win,

for there’s no cowardice there.

For you, maybe Gryffindor,

the house built with pride and fame.

In Gryffindor find your roar,

learn to run before you walk.

For you, maybe Hufflepuff,

the house built with heart and toil,

the house that’ll say enough,

there’ll always be room for you.

For you, maybe Ravenclaw,

wit and charm are never far flung,    

release your mind and it’ll soar,

do not fear the knowledge found.

We can only try and see

what is around the corner

but together you and me

we will always be prepared.   

For you, there’s always somewhere here.

You’ve come from afar, all to learn

now let me sort and bring cheer

then you’ll feast with your new friends.” The Hat finishes with a half bow of his tip and all the houses clap, surprised at the shortness of the song this year. McGonagall, no particular expression at the song on her face, unfurls her scroll of parchment and begins to read names, each child shuffling forwards apprehensively. Every time the Hat announces a new student for Gryffindor the girls stamp their feet and cheer, leaning down to the end of the table to see them sit down.

When it reaches M, Marlene starts leaning backwards to get a better view and she bites her nails when McGonagall reads “McKinnon, Mitchell.” He’s her youngest sibling and her two other younger brothers sit at the Ravenclaw table, third and fourth years, biting their nails too. Her two older brothers were Gryffindors so Mitchell has two options, as far as his family are concerned, which is more than a lot of the other students who had other siblings already at Hogwarts could say. The division of the houses had confused Lily as a first year and it had taken months until she understood how deep it runs and how people consider your house your family.

The Sorting Hat’s tear opens and Marlene almost falls off her seat as it roars “Gryffindor!” She’s on her feet in seconds, cheering, and the girls cheer too, laughing as Marlene waves frantically at her brother, who just looks embarrassed.

“Sit down before he becomes the boy with that weird older sister,” Mary says and Lily tugs on Marlene’s sleeve, dragging her down as the next name is called out. There’s two students left when Lily’s stomach rumbles for the first time and Maya nods.

“I’m starving. They need to cut down on the intake so we can eat sooner,” she jokes as the last first year sits down at the Hufflepuff table and Dumbledore stands. His beard has grown over the summer and the plait at the bottom of it rests on the podium in front of him.

“Welcome to all of you, from our oldest to our newest students,” he gestures across the whole hall and Lily wonders how he seems to manage to make eye contact with everyone at once. “It’s been a long and hot summer and I hope you’ve all had a languid and euphoric time. Now though it is time to prepare yourself for another year of learning the wondrous art that is magic. Our dear groundskeeper has asked me to remind you that the Whomping Willow is out of bounds and very dangerous. It would be inadvisable to approach it.” Lily’s not sure if she imagines it but, she thinks, just for a second, his eyes rest on the Gryffindor table. “The same can be said for the Forbidden Forest. For a full list of our ground rules, please see Mr Filch’s office door. And with that, I think it’s time we ate!” At his last two words, food appears all over the table and the Hall bursts into noise again.

The girls don’t talk as they dig in, except to ask someone to pass a plate or dish of food. Lily thinks she’s on her third plate before dessert appears, completely wiping the idea of more Yorkshire puddings from her mind because there’s a bowl of meringues and strawberries in front of her.

“The House Elves have out done themselves this year,” Tegan comments as she spoons mousse into her mouth.

“Better and better each year, I swear to Merlin,” says Mary, almost dribbling pumpkin juice. Lily has to agree. The start of term feast does seem to only improve and she has yet to be disappointed by its offerings.

Dumbledore is standing up too soon and the dessert vanishes as quickly as it came and there’s a collective groan across the hall. Meanwhile Marlene has found a way around the system by piling profiteroles into her lap. “Now that we’ve feasted and our bellies are full, let’s head to bed for a good night’s sleep.”

Around the hall prefects stand up first, heading towards where their new first years sit at the end of the bench. Lily nicks one of Marlene’s profiteroles, climbs over the bench and tells the girls she’ll meet them up there. They wave goodbye and she walks down to the throng of first years, making sure not to look when she sees Peter out of the corner of her eye.

Remus is already there and she joins him in herding the first years, introducing herself and leading away the first group. He follows close behind and when they reach the Entrance Hall fall into step. “Heard a funny story on the train,” he says quietly, looking over his shoulder to check his first years are still behind him.

“Oh, what’s that?” Lily answers, stopping their groups so they don’t get lost in a bunch of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins heading downstairs.

“Pr- James says he wrote you a letter,” they start walking again, guiding the first years up the stairs, ignoring their amazed oohs and aahs as they notice the portraits waving at them. “An apology letter.”

Lily looks sideways at him, “And?”

“Just interesting. You didn’t mention it.” Remus says casually then turns to tell the first years about the history of the portraits. Lily rolls her eyes at his avoidance tactic, also grateful for the extra time to figure out a reply. He turns back a moment later, smiling as if they’re talking about the weather. Dick.

“I didn’t realise I needed to,” she says before telling the first years that Gryffindor tower will be their home for the next seven years and it’s normal to get lost in the first few weeks, but they’ll get used to it.

“Just wondered what you thought, that’s all,” Remus says, snatching the already stolen profiterole out of her hand and popping it in his mouth before she can complain.

Lily frowns but can’t reply because just then they reach the Gryffindor portrait hole and the Fat Lady coughs for attention. “Password?” She asks, looking over the first years.

“Godric,” Remus says with a roll of his eyes at Lily. She’d been surprised when she heard it first too, given how easy it would be for anyone to guess it.

“Enjoy your first night in the tower!” The Fat Lady smiles as she swings open, and the first years’ mouth drop as they see the common room for the first time. Lily crawls through the portrait hole first and then helps them through, Remus scrambling through last.

“Welcome home,” she smiles at them, taking in the comforting sight for herself as well. The fire is lit and it’s cosy, already full of older students. “The towers are at the back, girls I’ll show you yours.”

“Boys, with me.” Remus guides the boys towards their staircase and Lily leads the girls to theirs, showing them up and to their room. They’re all happy to be reunited with their trunks and, in some cases pets, and Lily asks if they have any questions before leaving them to it.

Downstairs she snags one of the sofas near the fire and sprawls out, waiting for the girls to appear. Her conversation with Remus plays in the back of her mind but it’s her first night back and she refuses to think of it when the girls appear a few minutes later. They fall through the hole, Marlene pushing Mary through before turning back to help Maya.

“It’s good to be home,” Tegan says, diving on to the sofa seconds after Lily moves her legs to the floor.

“It’s so warm,” smiles Mary, tugging her robes over her head and chucking them on to Lily. Beneath them she’s wearing jeans and a loose top and Lily snorts when she notices a few third years distracted by the sudden sight of a girl in muggle clothing.

“You’ve got an audience MacDonald,” she tells her.

Mary looks over her shoulder, rolls her eyes and drops to the floor, “pervs.”

“Why are you lot sitting down anyway, thought we had plans,” Marlene says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.  Lily groans.

“I’m too full to drink,” she says, throwing her arm over her eyes, “not yet.” She hears Marlene huff and sit down next to Mary.

“In Spain –“ There’s a loud cry and Lily moves her arm quickly to see Tegan and Mary wrestling Marlene, Mary with her hand firmly clasped over Marlene’s mouth.

“No more Spain, please, we get it,” laughs Maya, and Lily can’t help but grin as Marlene manages to overpower Tegan and Mary and emerges, her hair all over the place.

“Fuck all of you,” she says, narrowing her eyes, “you’re not getting your gifts now.” This changes the mood quickly.

“Gifts?” Maya asks at the same time Tegan says “You never said anything about gifts.”

"Gifts change everything,” Mary says, patting Marlene on the shoulder gently.

Lily smiles, joining in, “yeah, Marls, you never mentioned gifts.”

“Traitors. The lot of you, fake friends.” Marlene crosses her arm and shakes her head, nose in the air.

Mary points at the girls’ dormitories, “bet they’re in her trunk.”

“You wouldn’t!” Says Marlene, but Mary is already on her feet and the others follow quickly, dodging over students with shrieks of laughter and racing to get up the stairs before Marlene stops them. Lily feels Marlene grabs the back of her robes and speeds up, almost tripping. “I hate all of you!” Marls yells as Mary opens their dorm door and dives towards the end of Marlene’s bed where her trunk is. Artemis, having been asleep on Tegan’s bed, shoots up at the noise, back arched.

“Got them!” Mary shouts, and Maya and Lily hold Marlene back whilst Tegan tries to calm down Artemis, giggling. Mary has opened Marlene’s trunk and pulls a big bag from inside, crawling up onto Marlene’s bed so she can empty the contents onto the soft mattress.

“Ouch!” Maya winces as Marlene bites her, actually bites her and Lily lets go of Marlene before she gets the same treatment.

“They’re fragile, be careful,” Marlene says, resigning as Mary reads the tags on each of the presents.

“You wrapped them and everything,” notes Tegan, carrying Artemis over to Marlene’s bed and kneeling next to Mary.

“Yeah, I’m a good friend,” Marlene scowls, “unlike you lot.”

“Lily, this is yours,” Lily stands and goes over to the bed, accepting the present off Mary and unwrapping it quickly. It’s a small flamenco figurine, and Lily grins as she realises that it’s been made to look like her, red hair flowing down its back. She looks to the others’ presents and sees that everyone has their own personalised figure, Maya’s wearing long sleeves and everything. She sets it on the floor, jumping when suddenly it ruffles its skirts and starts to perform the flamenco, skirt flying around.

“Marls! They’re amazing,” Mary says, echoing Lily’s thought exactly. Maya sets hers next to Lily’s on the floor and the figures begin dancing in unison, “you can talk about Spain as much as you want now.”

“Ha,” Marlene says, but she looks appeased by the compliment.

“They really are cool McKinnon,” says Tegan, rescuing hers before Artemis can swat it off the bed.

They all chorus a thank you and Marlene finally looks happy again. Then she pulls a bottle of wine from her trunk, “I got this too.”

Laughing the girls give Marlene a hug and then change out of their robes and into pyjamas, the figurines dancing on their bedside tables. Lily barely unpacks her trunk, just pulls her washbag, pj top and cotton shorts from the top and leaves the rest for the morning.

Marlene cracks the wine open once they’ve all changed and passes the bottle round, Maya pretending to be askance at their actions.

Lily smiles softly as they all pile onto one bed once Maya has performed her evening prayers and cuddle up under the covers with Artemis prowling over them, pouncing on wiggling toes and unsuspicious strands of hair. They’re talking about nothing and everything all at once and this has what she has been waiting for. Here, under the duvet, holding hands with Marlene, feet squashed under Tegan, head resting in Maya’s lap, here Lily feels at ease, safe, at home.

Chapter Text

The sun is burning through her eyelids. As Lily realises she’s awake she also realises two other things in quick succession. One, Artemis is curled up on her chest, fur filling her mouth. Two, her neck is almost definitely broken. She squints against the sunlight and tries to look without moving too much. Her head is still in Maya’s lap except Maya has turned in the night, leaving Lily’s head to dangle off the edge of the bed precariously.

Slowly she shifts so that her head is not hanging over the precipice, and winces at the sharp pain in her neck. She is reminded of why the girls stopped sharing a bed once they reached third year and became too big to all fit comfortably.

“Lily?” Someone whispers her name. She risks lifting her head up then regrets it immediately as her back twinges. She sees Tegan at the opposite end of the bed, head raised slightly off the duvet.

“I think my neck’s broken,” Lily whispers back and Tegan rolls her eyes.

“Breakfast?”

“What time is it?”

“Too early to be talking, Evans,” Tegan and Lily look to Mary who hasn’t opened her eyes but is still talking, “go back to sleep.”

“We’ve got to get our timetables though,” Lily reasons.

This makes Mary open her eyes. “I understand you’re a prefect but you don’t need to be a swot too.”

“She’s always been a swot Mary, neither of those things are exactly new,” Marlene joins in now. Lily has the sneaking suspicion they’ve each been waiting for someone else to wake up so they didn’t have to be the first.

“I’m not a swot,” Lily says, even though this has proven to be false on many occasions, “I want breakfast.”

“And your timetable,” Maya adds, sounding a lot less groggy then the rest of them.

Tegan sits up with a sigh, almost knocking Mary off the bed, “So we’re all awake.”

"Yup.” Mary says, pulling herself more comfortably onto the four poster.

Artemis, who has been purring since they started talking, getting louder with every new speaker as if to block them out, decides then is a good moment to stretch her front paws and stab her claws into Lily’s sternum. “Merlin’s fucking beard!” Yelps Lily, shoving Artemis off her chest unceremoniously and disturbing the rest of the girls as she scrambles up.

“Fuck me, Evans, could you be any more dramatic!” Tegan exclaims, clinging to Mary so she doesn’t fall off the bed.

“Yes,” Lily answers flatly, looking down her top to see if there’s blood, “I could be Marlene.” This earns her a pillow to the head.

“Up we get then I guess,” Mary says dejectedly, pushing off the bed and slouching over to her trunk.

“Some of us have already been up,” says Maya pointedly as she bends over and ruffles her hair out. Lily recognises that tone. Smugness.

“Yeah, about that, thanks for leaving my neck hanging,” Lily says with a frown, guessing Maya hadn’t considered that when getting back into bed after praying.

Maya laughs, straightening up and pulling her hair back into a loose bun, “you fidget like those worms from third year, that had nothing to do with me.”

“Shh, my head hurts,” whines Marlene, stumbling out of her pyjama bottoms. “It might fall off.”

“We had, like, one sip each Marls, you flannel,” Tegan points at the bottle as she says it, and the three quarters left in it attest to her statement. Marlene answers slyly and they bicker casually as the others all slowly shake the aches of a shared bed off and get dressed.

The dorm in the morning is always a mix of tights and socks flying about, squabbling over the sink, pulling back the shower curtain because they’re bored of waiting, forgetting whose toothbrush is whose, and today is no different. It takes a while but, finally, they’re ready and Lily leads the way down the stairs. The common room is still quiet so there are no distractions and they make it down to the Entrance Hall with little event, apart from Mary almost getting stuck in a trip step. In the Great Hall the girls spot their head of house in the middle of Gryffindor table, handing out timetables.

“Oh good! Timetables,” Lily says, sitting down and pouring pumpkin juice into her goblet.

"Fucking swot,” Marlene rolls her eyes and joins her, immediately stuffing her mouth with toast. Lily nudges her in the ribs and then they all look up as the owls begin to arrive and the Hall becomes blur of wings. McGonagall arrives in the midst of all this, seemingly indifferent to the three owls hovering above her, one holding the Daily Prophet and the other two carrying a magazine and a thick letter.

“Good morning, girls. Your timetables all appear to be in order. Well done on your excellent O.W.Ls. There’s just… yes…. MacDonald,” McGonagall turns to Mary, “you no longer want to be an Auror?”

Mary freezes with her spoon halfway to her mouth, “Sorry?”

“You have dropped Charms which is needed to become an Auror. Last year you led me to believe that’s where you thought you were headed?”

“Healing,” Mary says suddenly, as she catches on, setting her spoon down with a clatter, “I want to do healing now. It seems… it seems like it’s going to be needed now.” McGonagall considers this carefully for a moment. Lily can’t place her expression. Maybe she hates the fact that they know they’re going to leave Hogwarts and enter a war. Or maybe she just thinks Mary would be more suited to being an Auror.

“A very honourable career path. I’d recommend taking Herbology then too,” she says. Mary nods, a relieved smile on her face, and McGonagall taps her wand to a piece of parchment and hands it over. “Any other changes?” Her eyes scan over all of them and Lily thinks maybe it’s pride. Or pity. Or both. None of them answer so McGonagall double checks their subject choices and gives them all their timetables before leaving them with, “although career advice is primarily for fifth years, you’re still welcome in my office to talk about your future after Hogwarts at any time.”

Marlene sighs as McGonagall walks away, followed by the owls, “I’m in love with her.”

“Who isn’t?” Lily comments absent-mindedly, looking over her timetable. She smiles as she sees she has double Potions first thing. They finish breakfast quickly, comparing timetables and celebrating the appearance of free periods. Then they have to rush to get their books before the bell rings.

“Double potions twice a week...” Mary groans as she, Lily and Maya make their way to the dungeons, “I might die.”

Maya rolls her eyes, “It’s not that bad.”

Mary cackles in disagreement.

The familiar and welcomed coolness of the dungeon greets them at the bottom of the stairs and they lean against the wall by the door, first there.

“I hope we’re with just the Ravenclaws again,” Lily says quietly as they wait for their classmates to appear. The hope doesn’t last long though as the next people down the stairs are Sev, Rosier and Avery. Lily turns away from the sight and she feels Maya and Mary step closer. Luckily, Sev and Avery are quickly followed by Bertram Aubrey, Florence Abbott and three Hufflepuffs Lily can’t remember the names of.

Then the door opens and Slughorn’s belly appears, preceding the rest of him. He beams when he sees Lily at the front of the queue and claps his hands together then chortles out, “Welcome! Good to see you all, the final few!” He waves them past and Lily and the girls snag a table in the front, joined by Florence a second later. Slughorn waddles to the front of the class, taking his favourite place in front of the potions bubbling away behind him.

“It seems we are missing some -“ he stops as the door opens and Potter, Remus and Peter tumble in, cauldrons clanging. “There you are! By the skin of your teeth, I’d expect nothing less. Come, come, sit down, and where’s Mr Black?” Slughorn beam doesn’t falter as he welcomes them in and Lily smiles at Remus as the three of them all sit down at the last empty table. Black strolls in a moment later, not out of breath like the others. “That’s everyone… well, well, it’s good to have you all here! Some of the best students…” he winks at Lily and someone else, and Lily guesses it’s probably Sev. “I can already tell this year is going to be fun!” He rubs his hands together, “let’s start by getting your things out, books and cauldrons, books and cauldrons.”

There’s a few minutes of movement and noise as cauldrons are slammed onto the weary tables and books, most untouched but Lily’s dog-eared, are dragged out of bags. “Now… can anyone tell me…” Slughorn starts speaking again and they all settle in, well versed by now in his performances at the beginning of every lesson, “what this particular potion is?” He directs their attention to the cauldron containing Veritaserum.

“Veritaserum,” it’s Sev’s voice and Slughorn nods gleefully.

“Five points to Slytherin! What about…” he deliberates between Polyjuice Potion and Amortentia and Lily has her hand ready because if he’s giving out house points, she doesn’t want Slytherin to get all of them. Finally, he chooses.

Lily’s hand shoots up into the air, and Slughorn nods for her to answer. “Amortentia. It’s the most powerful love potion in the world.” She’d recognised the potion before the other two when she came in. It is overwhelming, even from Slughorn’s desk. No other potion she knows smells of her mum’s Sunday roasts.

“Five points to Gryffindor. Thirdly… yes, Miss Evans?”

“Polyjuice potion,” she answers with a smile.

“Another five points to Gryffindor, excellent, excellent…” Slughorn walks towards the chalk board, leaving the last potion on his desk unmentioned. Even if Lily hadn’t been told by one of the seventh years that Slughorn liked to start sixth year the same for every class, she’d know it’s Felix Felicis.

It’s Florence who gives in, eventually, and asks “What about that one?”

Slughorn, who’d been dragging out writing the date on the board, spins gleefully back to face them, “Ah! I’m glad you asked… does anyone know, exactly, what this potion is?” All of them have heard about the competition Slughorn starts the year with so it’s an easy one and Aubrey gets five points for Ravenclaw with the answer they all know already. Remus explains what it is and they listen to Slughorn excitedly set them their competition, everyone contributing the necessary questions when he pauses, waiting for them.

Eventually it’s time for him to tell him what potion they have to make to win it and this is when everyone actually listens. This is what changes every year. “…Draught of Peace…” As soon as the name of the potion passes his lips, the whole class is flipping through their textbook, not waiting for him to tell them go. Lily had read the recipe briefly over summer so she’s the first to start cutting ingredients, only having to double check the ingredient list.

Aside from knives chopping and fires starting, the class is as quiet as it has ever been. Lily’s brow creases slightly whilst she works, shutting off from the rest of the world completely. Potions always has this effect on her and, by the time Slughorn is clapping his hands together and telling everyone to stop, she’s almost forgotten she’s not alone.

“Hmm…. Good, good…. Oohoo, interesting!” Slughorn walks slowly around the classroom, leaning over everyone’s cauldrons before giving a noise of approval.

When he reaches their table, he steps excitedly up to Lily’s cauldron first and grins, exclaiming, “Excellent, excellent! Well done Miss Evans.” He gives a wink and moves on to Mary’s cauldron, leaving Lily to hide her blush in the fumes. Her potion is far from finished, they’d need two double lessons to actually be able to complete it, but it is past the half way stage and on track. Florence’s has gone a turgid green colour and Maya’s seems to have bubbled itself away to half of what there should be.

“You’re too good at this,” Mary whispers as Slughorn gives her a sympathetic smile at the state of her own potion. Lily rolls her eyes, because even though she is good, there’s someone else who is better.

She’s proven right a few minutes later when, after circling the class twice more for effect, this time with the small bottle of Felix Felicis in his hand, Slughorn stops by the Slytherins’ table, hoists Sev’s hand into the air and declares, “The winner ladies and gentlemen!” There’s a groan around the room but Sev just gives Slughorn a forced smile, gently removes his hand from the professor’s and accepts the vial.

“Thank you, Sir.” Avery and Rosier clap Sev on the book, looking far too excited since they themselves had produced potions both the colour of piss.

Everyone starts packing up disappointedly, and Lily turns away from the Slytherin table as Sev tucks the vial up his sleeve and whispers something to Rosier.

Usually Sev doesn’t show off in Potions. He would make his personal edits, which Lily knows are better but refrained from copying herself, and ignore Slughorn’s fussing to the point that the Professor just nodded whenever he saw Sev’s cauldron. He didn’t like drawing attention to his work. It’s worrying, thinking about what sort of luck Sev needs.

“Coming, Lils?” Asks Mary, breaking Lily out of her head. She quickly starts packing her bag, noticing out of the corner of her eye that the Marauders are dawdling.

Slughorn goes over to them and asks, “Everything alright lads?”

“We just had a question -” Peter starts,

“- a hypothetical, for a Transfiguration essay,” Potter adds hurriedly. Black notices then that the Gryffindor girls are still there and clears his throat. Potter looks up, spots Lily, smiles distortedly and stamps on Peter’s foot just as Peter opens his mouth. “Could we come back at lunch and find you? Only it’s a tricky one.”

Lily frowns, closes her bag and walks to join Maya and Mary who are waiting for her by the door impatiently. They push her through the door before she can dilly-dally anymore and Slughorn’s reply to Potter’s question is cut off.

“What have you got now?” Says Maya as they reach the Entrance Hall.

“History of Magic and then free until Transfiguration this afternoon,” Lily replies.

Mary’s answer is accompanied by a big grin, “Divination then nothing until Transfig’ later.”

Maya laughs and rolls her eyes. “Too lucky,” she says, “I have History of Magic then double Ancient Runes and then a free.” Mary finds this ridiculous and they traipse up to the common room listening to her theory about overworking yourself. Somehow, the Marauders have beaten them there and Lily is waved over by Remus.

She goes, partly only because Maya pushes her.

“Just seen Worthright and he says we need to hand in a copy of our timetables before lunch. The new heads want to be really on top of schedule this year,” he says it with a roll of his eyes and Lily sighs as she perches on the arm of his chair.

“I have a free before lunch, I guess I’ll pop into the Heads’ office then,” she says.

“You got Binns next, Evans?” Asks Potter, clearly eavesdropping. He’s sat on a sofa with Black, crossword spread out on their laps.

“Yup,” she replies, still not sure how being friends with him is meant to work. Telling him she has History of Magic next seems like a boring but safe place to start.

“I’ll see you there then,” he gives her a half-smile, his half-smile and goes back to pouring over the paper. On the sofa opposite, Peter is grinning. Lily isn’t sure if it’s related to their conversation or not, so she ignores it and turns back to Remus. He’s grinning too though so she pushes off the sofa and goes back to Maya, who’s giggling behind a copy of Witch Weekly.

“Oh, fuck off,” Lily says and refuses to even look at Potter again for the rest of the day.

The first two weeks fly by and Lily almost forgets about everything outside of lessons and N.E.W.T.S. None of the teachers seem to care that they’re just back from summer and that O.W.L.S are barely behind them; every teacher seems intent on drowning them in homework and Lily walks out of DADA on Friday evening into the crush of students wishing she’d never been born.

“Well fuck me. That’s…” Marlene says, counting on her fingers, “fifteen feet of homework from today.” She throws up her hands and almost smacks Mary in the face.

“We’ll survive,” Maya says and Marlene smacks her in the shoulder, on purpose.

“Just because you have a work ethic, doesn’t mean we all do,” Marlene gripes, and Lily kind of agrees. It’s not like she doesn’t have a work ethic, she does, it’s just that it still feels like summer and she’d much rather be lazing outside on the grounds with all the younger years than trapped up in the common room for the rest of term.  

Tegan steps in between Marlene and Maya before Maya can retaliate and slings her arms over their shoulders, “Hey, at least it’s the weekend now.”

Before anyone can reply, there’s a loud bang down the corridor and everyone speeds up to see what the commotion was. The girls are jolted along, and Lily clings to Mary’s robes in front of her so she doesn’t lose anyone. Around the corner there’s shouting and when the crowd halts, Lily reaches up on tiptoes to see –

“Lupin!” Mulciber shouts and the whole crowd gasps as he waves his wand and Remus is thrown into the wall. Potter is in front of him in an instant, pulling up shield after shield as Mulciber advances. Avery and Rosier are preoccupied with Peter and Black, who stand shoulder to shoulder, casting hexes every other second.

“You,” Lily grabs a second year standing next to her, “go and get McGonagall. Now.” The second year looks petrified and thankfully runs off immediately, fighting back through the crowd. At the other end of the corridor Lily can see the head boy holding the crowd there back, wand out.  

“What should we do?” Mary is asking Tegan, but Lily doesn’t think there’s anything they can do. Her heart is beating in her chest and, she hasn’t realised, but she’s holding her wand in her hand, ready.

“Fucking blood traitor,” Mulciber is spitting, “how’s mummy and daddy? Sitting at home on top of their fortune –”

“At least they have a fortune,” Potter shouts back, pausing in holding his shield to fire back a hex. Mulciber dodges it but almost slips and Potter takes the opportunity to shoot ropes from his wand. They curl around Mulciber before he can counter them and he topples to the floor, cursing.

Behind her Lily hears movement and she turns just in time for the crowd to part, squashing her and her friends into the wall. McGonagall and Flitwick appear, running behind the second year Lily had sent.

“Boys!” McGonagall’s voice echoes down the hallway and Potter looks up from where he’s crouching over Remus. It doesn’t stop the other fight though and Flitwick has to put a shield up in between Black and Peter and Avery and Rosier before they lower their wands. “What is the meaning of this?” Demands McGonagall, sweeping over to Remus and releasing Mulciber from his binds as she passes.

“Expelliarmus.” Flitwick mutters and all the boys’ wands fly through the air to his hand. He tucks them into his robes and then marches off to the other end of the hall where the head boy is desperately trying to clear the corridor. As soon as Flitwick passes through the shield, Black and Peter accost him, obviously trying to give their side of the story before the Slytherins can.

Thinking quickly, Lily turns and starts to tell people to move, “Back to your common rooms! Come on, prefect’s orders. Off you go.” The girls help her and a few other fifth year prefects standing nearby catch on and soon the corridor is pretty much empty, save a few nosy stragglers desperate to see what happens next.

By the time they turn back, Flitwick has Mulciber, Rosier, Potter, Black, Peter and Avery lined up against the wall and McGonagall has conjured a stretcher for Remus. “Miss Evans, I think you should follow your own advice and get back to the common room,” she says before Lily can even step forward and ask if Remus is okay.

“But –“ Lily says, looking to Potter. He’s not looking at her though. His eyes are firmly fixed on Remus’ prone body and she can tell it’s taking every bit of his willpower to stay against the wall.

“Miss Evans, if you won’t go to the common room then you can fetch Professor Slughorn for me. I’m sure he’d like to have a word with his students.” McGonagall looks at her sternly, levitating the stretcher into the air. “I am going to take Mr Lupin to the Hospital Wing. You will be able to see how he is later. Now, off you run. And you too, girls.” McGonagall says, and there’s some leniency in her tone. Tegan tugs on Lily’s robes and Lily goes, looking over her shoulder one last time before they round the corner.

“Come on,” Tegan says and squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“What the fuck was that about, do you think?” Marlene says as they all start jogging towards the dungeons.

“Someone must have said something.” Suggests Mary. She’s probably right. Mulciber had called Potter a blood traitor, so it must have been something to do with the war. The war that’s meant to be outside the castle walls, not in it.

“They’ll all be in trouble, whoever started it,” Maya says, “they can’t just fight in the hallways.”

“Do you think Remus will be okay?” Lily asks.

“Probably, Poppy’s the best around,” Maya says and the other girls nod. They fall silent then, not talking until they reach the dungeons and find Slughorn in his office. Lily tells him what has happened and, with a lot of ohs and oh Merlins, he waddles out of the classroom, telling them they must listen to McGonagall and go to Gryffindor tower. “Even you Miss Evans!” He calls over his shoulder as he disappears up the stairs and she sighs.

“Maybe you aren’t his favourite,” Tegan jokes. Lily musters a weak smile but that’s all she can manage and when they reach the common room she goes straight up to the dormitory and collapses onto her bed.

Tegan drops down next to her and strokes her hair softly, and Lily can tell that she knows what’s going through her head. All the girls do. They’ve spoken about it before. Had spoken about it a lot at the end of term when Sev called her that word.

“It’s too close, isn’t it,” Mary murmurs, letting Maya wrap her arms around her in comfort. It’s not even a question.

“Why doesn’t Dumbledore just expel them?” Asks Marlene, ripping her robes over her head and throwing them across the room.

Tegan shakes her head and says, “he can’t. Then they’d just be… out there. It’s better to keep them at Hogwarts where he can see them, and they’re safe.”

“Well he shouldn’t want them to be safe,” Mary says with a scoff.

“They’re the same age as us MacDonald, they don’t deserve to die just because they’re indoctrinated.” Maya lets go of Mary, almost distancing herself from the words, and shrugs, “we’re all just kids.”

It doesn’t feel like they’re kids though. It feels like there’s a war on outside the castle and it’s inside too, breathing down the back of their necks. It feels like they’re too young to be dealing with this but not old enough to help. It feels like they should be worrying about homework and N.E.W.T.S and relationships and how hot it is. Lily buries her face into the duvet and doesn’t scream, but she wants to.

They go to the Hospital Wing after dinner when they notice that the Marauders aren’t there and McGonagall nods at them from the teachers’ table. Lily leads the way out of the Great Hall, ignoring Mulciber and Rosier at the Slytherin table as they re-enact Remus being flung against the wall amidst applause and snickers. She knows Sev is with them, sitting next to Mulciber, but she doesn’t meet his eye and she’s not even sure if he tries to.

Madame Pomfrey greets them at the door, as if she’d known they would come, “You can’t stay long girls, he’s already got too many visitors. And you must be quiet.” This last bit seems to be aimed at Marlene in particular and she rolls her eyes.

“We’ll be good,” Maya smiles diplomatically and Pomfrey leads them down to the last bed, hidden behind some curtains.

“Fifteen minutes,” Madame Pomfrey says sternly and then leaves them to it. Tegan draws the curtains across and Lily tries not to smile at the sight behind them. Remus is propped up with several pillows reading their textbook for Transfiguration and, next to him, Potter is curled up awkwardly on the bed with his head next to Remus’ stomach, apparently asleep.

Black has his feet on the end of the bed and is lazily levitating Bertie Botts into Peter’s mouth. He looks up when the girls appear and scowls. It’s Peter who greets them.

“Come to visit the brave hero?” He asks, swatting away the next Bertie Bott.

Remus looks up from his book with raised eyebrows, “I don’t quite think that description fits me, Wormy.” It’s a new nickname, unfamiliar, Lily thinks, but is too distracted by the bruises on Peter’s face to pay too much attention to it.

“What happened?” She says, pointing at the marks all over his cheeks.

“One of the hexes, not sure which one exactly,” Peter shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, then accios over five chairs for the girls to sit on. “Remus got it worse.”

“No kidding, just look at the poor bastard,” Black says, shaking his head, and swaps from levitating the beans to throwing them up in the air and catching them in his own mouth.

“Brave hero to poor bastard in under a minute,” Remus says, tutting.

“Brave heroes don’t get three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder,” Black answers insolently and some of the girls gasp.

“What did you say?” Demands Maya.

Remus sighs, “Poppy’s fixed them all already. She’s only keeping me in overnight because James threatened to break the ribs again if she discharged me.”

“You need to rest. How does she know they’re completely fixed?” Potter speaks, eyes shut. Evidently, not asleep.

“Maybe because she’s a qualified health professional?” Says Mary and the rest of them show their agreement.

“Whatever. He’s staying.” Potter opens his eyes and sits up, stretching out his legs, “who let you in anyway? You can’t overcrowd him, he’ll get tired.” He frowns and Lily grabs one of the beans from the box and throws it at him. It only bounces off his shoulder but, still, it’s the point that matters, not her aim.

“He’s fine,” Black says and moves the box out of Lily’s reach just in case she tries to use anymore as missiles.

“I really am okay,” Remus reassures, looking pointedly at Lily. “I’ll be out of here as soon as James stops smothering me.”

Potter looks affronted, “I’m not smothering you, I’m looking after you. There’s a difference.”

“Name this difference, please.” Tegan says and Lily settles back in her chair, laughing as Potter sputters. No one mentions why Remus is in the Hospital Wing, or why the fight started. No one brings up the fight at all. Lily’s desperate to know though, and she makes a mental note to ask one of them tomorrow. Until the girls get kicked out though, they just chat about brave heroes in the wizarding past and complain about the homework they all have to do.

As they’re leaving, Potter jogs to catch up with them. He taps Lily on the shoulder and, giving each other a look, Maya and Mary haul Tegan and Marlene out of the Hospital Wing doors before they can say anything.

“Um, thanks for coming,” he starts, “to check on Mo- Remus. I- he likes all of you lot.” This is not new information to Lily, to anyone she’s pretty sure, and she bites her lip to stop herself from smiling. Getting to the point is not Potter’s biggest strength. “We’ve all got detentions, for a month… McGonagall said that whilst our cause was admirable, our method was childish and left much to be desired.” He imitates her Scottish accent, badly, and Lily can’t help but let her smile out.

“I’m not surprised,” she says. “What was your cause?”

Potter runs a hand through his hair and shuffles his feet. “Well, Avery started it,” he runs a hand through his hair again, “asked if Sirius had enjoyed his summer… it’s complicated.” There’s a lot in his words, a lot behind his words, Lily can tell, and she’s not sure what Avery’s comment means, she just knows it means something. Potter won’t meet her eye and she doesn’t want to pry tonight.

“Right, complicated. Everything’s complicated these days.” Lily says, words heavy, and this Potter agrees with, judging from his brief eye contact.

“I better get back to Lupin… in case he needs something,” Potter smiles and lifts his hand slightly, then turns and walks back to Remus’ hospital bed. Lily watches him go and sighs because he’s ridiculous and she has no idea what to make of him.

Outside the Hospital Wing, she is accosted by her friends and they pester her all the way back to the common room until she gives in and tells them what he said.

“Mum said something about Sirius…” Marlene says once they’ve climbed through the portrait hole and settled by one of the windows. “I think his parents like, disowned him or something. It was all very hush-hush, everything is when it comes to pureblood families like the Blacks, secretive tossers. She’s not sure what happened, but she did get a letter from Potter’s mum asking if she could borrow some of my brother’s old clothes.”

Lily frowns, “You think he went to the Potter’s?”

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me, they’ve spent loads of summers there, haven’t they?” Mary says, looking to Marlene.

“It’s a big house, it’s not like they wouldn’t have room.” Marlene shrugs.

“Have you seen it?” Asks Tegan.

“That’s where me and Marls met,” Maya answers with a fond smile, and Marlene holds up her hand for a high-five. “The Potter’s always threw these parties when we were children. I think they thought Potter was lonely. I don’t know, but we were always invited.”

“Huh,” Lily says, amazed that there’s all this information that she had no idea about, that she missed out on. She forgets sometimes, that they grew up in different worlds. That, when it comes to their history, she’s an outsider.

They stay in the common room as it empties out, working on essays and flipping through textbooks to find answers. They stay until Potter, Black and Peter fall through the portrait hole, Potter complaining loudly about being kicked out.

Tegan waves them over and they join them, although Black seems reluctant to sit anywhere near Lily. Just like in the Hospital Wing, it’s easy to be with them, easy to sit and talk. Potter makes them all laugh, and Peter does too, and when Marlene pulls out a pack of Exploding Snap, even Black joins in.

Chapter Text

The fight is all anyone talks about for the next few days, but as in most semi-contained social eco systems it only takes another, just as dramatic event to catch everyone’s attention. This time it’s a third year accidentally accioing a girl’s robes. Lily is there when the accio event happens and it really is an accident, and far less dramatic then the fight, but she doesn’t mind that people have something new to talk about. She knows Remus has never liked this level of attention, even if Peter takes some enjoyment in stopping Madame Pomfrey from healing him and showing off his bruises much longer than he needs to. Plus, if people are talking about the fight, they’re also talking about the Slytherin boys and she’s definitely had enough of hearing about them. It’s bad enough being in Potions with three of them.

Especially when, in the last week of September, Sev and her are the first ones to arrive at the deserted dungeons. Maya is finishing the essay due in and Mary had forgotten her books and told Lily to go on while she sprinted back to the dorm.

She almost scarpers when she comes down the stairs and spots him there, alone, flicking through the textbook. From the steps she can see all his scribbling on the pages, his handwriting almost as familiar as her own. He looks up before she can hide and there’s a short second where his face lights up and Lily thinks he’s going to smile. He doesn’t.

Lily hoists her bag higher on her shoulder, resolutely deciding that she’s not going to give him the power to stop her from doing everything normally. She can stand behind him, waiting for everyone else. It doesn’t need to be a big deal. So she ignores the pain in her ribs, her heart, and simply joins him by the door, eyes fastened on the steps, hoping Mary hurries the fuck up.

“How- how- what do you think of Slughorn this year?” Sev says a few moments later, and Lily jerks her head around to look at him, almost in disbelief. He’s not looking at her. His eyes are firmly on the steps too and a distant part of her mind wonders what’s holding Avery and Rosier up.

“I think he’s being more dramatic.” She answers flatly, wishing she was able to ignore him just like she’d planned to do when she’d thought about this situation happening. If she was Marlene, or Maya, she could turn a cold shoulder or tell him to sod off.

Mudblood mudblood mudblood, in her head the scene replays, and she can see them all standing in a circle of other students, hatred and anger and confusion pushing them towards each other and tearing them away at the same time. But she can also see him lying on her bedroom floor, staring pensively up at her ceiling, asking how long it took her to cut out all the stars that are stuck up there. You can see the stars in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, you know. The real ones. He’d given her so much. Tried to take it all away too.

"I didn’t realise he could be more dramatic,” he laughs, cuts it off quickly. “At least he’s only given us one essay.”

“Yeah,” she pauses and mudblood deafens her. “Sev… We’re not-“

“I know.” He says it softly, still not looking at her, and she’s not sure what hurts more. Mudblood. I know.

There’s a sudden clatter of footsteps and Mary and Maya appear, followed closely by the rest of the class. At the same time Lily sees Avery and Rosier amongst the herd, Sev steps away from her, almost instinctively, and that hurts more than anything he could have said.

Don’t you dare cry over him, Evans. She bites back foolish tears as Maya and Mary join her at her side, shooting quizzical looks but knowing better than to say anything, partly in case they are overheard and partly because she’ll tell them when she’s ready. The Slytherins, led by Avery, leer at the Marauders, apparently hoping to goad them into a pre-class scuffle. In a surprising show of restraint though, Potter’s only response is to loudly ask Black what he’d thought of the article in the Prophet that morning about the Slytherins who slipped down the ladder of success.

Just as Black is telling Potter that he’d thought it rather insightful, Slughorn appears and ushers them in, tutting at the boys and jokingly asking them if they’re going to behave in his lesson.

Afterwards, Mary asks what Sev said to her but Lily brushes the question off and, thankfully, they don’t push it.

“I miss summer,” Maya moans, flinching at the cold as she presses her hand to the dorm window. Where she’s touched it, there’s a handprint in the frost and through the panes they can see snow on the tops of the distant mountains.

“It’s only been gone a week,” Lily says. October had arrived sharply, booting out the sun and heat very matter-of-factly and making up for how lazy summer had been in leaving. It hasn’t been sunny for quite some days, to the point that the Hufflepuffs had had to call off a training session on Tuesday because of the unforgiving wind.

“Still, I miss it.” Maya says and pulls her hijab closer round her neck. Their dorm is warm, even cosy, and it’s absolute shit that they can’t say the same for the rest of the castle. They’ve just got back from the library and walking through the halls had felt more like diving into the lake.

There’s a small tapping noise and Lily looks up from deciding which jumper is thickest and towards the window. Maya gets there first and lets the owl in. It hoots a thank you and flies over to settle on the headboard of Lily’s four poster, looking a little bit worse for wear.

“It’s Acklebey,” Maya can recognise the Hogwarts owl Lily uses to write to her parents and by now all of the girls have become familiar enough with each other’s mailing habits, so there’s no need to explain her excited grin as she hurries to untie the letter. The owl flies off as soon as she’s unattached the envelope, probably desperate to get to the shelter of the owlery. “You go down to dinner, I’ll catch you up.” She tells Maya, no longer hungry but desperate to read her mother’s words. Maya double checks that she’s sure, tugs on a jumper and then closes the door behind her.

Lily settles onto her bed and tears open the envelope, recognising her mum’s handwriting immediately.

Lily,

It was so good to get your last letter. I’m glad you’re writing so much. Your dad and I miss you lots n your letters make our week! Tuney is all moved out now and we’ve only chatted on the telephone a few times, but I think she’ll visit at Christmas.

About your letter: it’s good you’re enjoying the year so much. God knows your dad and I never liked school as much as you. Can you explain what human transfiguration involves… it sounds a bit too dangerous for younguns to be trying. Good that Potions is going well like usual, that teacher of yours definitely sounds like he knows what he’s doing.

Hopefully you’ll keep up with all your work, but it does sound like you’re getting a lot. Makes me tired just reading the number of feet.

Here everything is normal. Colder now September is over but your dad has more shifts down the mine and his cough seems to be getting better. He can’t finish the crossword without you and misses you a lot. I think I already said that.

Val popped in yesterday to say hi and asked how you were getting on. Everyone wants to know how you are! She brought over some apple pie but it’s too sweet for me. Maybe I’ll ask her to bake one I can send to you. Would you like that?

I’m sorry this letter’s so short, I’ve got about two loads of washing on and I promised I’d do the cake for Sunday’s service so I’m very busy. Say hello to all your friends.

Lots of love, your mum and dad x

She doesn’t realise she’s crying until a teardrop hits the paper, lined and clearly ripped out of a notebook,  and she wipes them away quickly because there’s no need to cry. She just misses them. A lot.

Lily reads the letter a few more times, then grabs some parchment and writes an immediate reply. She explains the theory behind human transfiguration and tells her mum not to worry, there’s only a small chance she’ll get an extra leg. Then she asks about her dad’s cough, because she didn’t even know her dad had a cough to begin with. He’d had a ‘tickle in his throat’ over summer, but that had been there for years and no one ever paid much attention to it. Then she just writes and, by the time the girls come back from dinner, carrying a few new potatoes and sausages in a napkin for her, she’s got five sides of parchment finished.

“Do you want to write my letters home for me?” Marlene asks, taking a bite from one of the sausages before she hands her the food. “My mum would kill to get that many pages.”

“And mine,” Tegan says. Lily laughs and carefully folds the parchment up and tucks the pages into one of the muggle envelopes she keeps in her bedside table.

“Bad daughters,” Mary says with a shake of her head. “It’s not that hard.”

“You haven’t got Potter’s training schedule to contend with,” Marlene says, looking sick at the mere thought of it.

Lily licks the envelope and then asks, “What’s he got you doing now?”

“Four training sessions, two fitness ones and a strategy meeting every Wednesday lunch.” Tegan tells them with a dead expression behind her eyes and Maya, Mary and Lily all pull faces. Lily loves Quidditch but she’s glad she doesn’t have to play, especially with Potter as her captain too; for someone who prides himself on his casual façade, Lily’s heard enough stories, and seen enough, to know how much of a dictator he can be when Quidditch is involved.

“If he mentions the trophy one more time, I’m going to steal it and bludgeon him to death with it,” Marlene groans from where she’s sprawled face-down on Lily’s bed.

“I’ll help.” Tegan picks her beater’s bat up from where it’s propped upright at the end of the bed and pretends Mary’s old, stuffed bunny is Potter’s face. Mary rescues her bunny with a squeak of outrage, and they all squeeze onto Lily’s bed and listen to Marlene coming up with different ways to remove Potter’s legs from the rest of him.

“Oh, by the way, first Hogsmeade trip next weekend!” Mary says excitedly, once talk about murdering Potter has died down and they’re just ribbing Marlene for flirting with the new fifth year chaser. “It went up on the board over dinner.”

“Three Broomsticks?” Suggests Tegan.

“No I was thinking we could try out the Hog’s Head,” Marlene says sarcastically. They go to the Three Broomsticks every trip, it’s routine by now.

Tegan throws her a derisive glance from where she’s sat. “Whatever. Maybe you’ll be going to Puddifoot’s anyway, since you’re basically married,” Tegan jibes and, with a growl, Marlene dives at her. They fall off the bed and Maya, Mary and Lily lean over the side to watch them scuffle on the floor.

“Do you think this is because Marlene has about a hundred brothers?” Maya asks, sounding genuinely curious, as a snarling Marlene straddles Tegan and tries to get her in a headlock.

“Nah, it’s just because she’s feral,” Mary says and nods her head when Maya looks at her questioningly.

Lily pretends to think about the question, “Maybe it’s because Tegan doesn’t have any brothers. All the testosterone from the quidditch team is rubbing off on her because she’s not used to it.”

Maya and Mary stretch out an understanding “ah” and Tegan manages to give them the middle finger before overpowering Marlene and bending her arm behind her back. Mary throws a pillow into the mix and before anyone can blink, an arm extends from the tangle and she gets dragged into the fray too. Lily laughs but it’s quickly and efficiently cut off by Mary grabbing her wrist and yanking her off the bed, using her as a human shield whilst Tegan pummels them with the pillow.

The Hogsmeade weekend comes quickly and Lily and the girls race down the stairs, feeling a bit seasick by the time they reach the Entrance Hall. On trip days the stairs tend to get a lot more excited, as if they know how much everyone wants to get out of the castle and are trying to stop them.

With his usual litany of muttered complaints, Filch herds them into the line already stretching back from the doors, and demands to see their permission slips. He spends about five minutes inspecting each of them, and almost refuses to believe that Mary’s is real. It takes some time to persuade him, but then they’re out of the doors and huddling together as they follow the stream of students.

“I hate Scotland.” Tegan’s voice is muffled behind her scarf as they fight their way against the wind. “You never get shit like this in the valleys.” There’s no point replying because the wind would just snatch away any conversation, so they stay silent until they reach the Three Broomsticks and can recover from the biting gusts.

Maya points out the Marauders sat at one of the tables near the back, already surrounded by bags from Zonkos and she, Mary and Tegan go to join them whilst Lily and Marlene queue at the bar.

“You meeting your brothers?” Asks Lily while they wait to be served.

“Can you believe them? They said it was ‘too embarrassing’ to go for lunch with me,” Marlene says, drawing quote marks in the air. “All three of them. Bunch of traitors.”

Lily shakes her head in support, “Wankers, all of them.”

“Even Arnie and he’s only eleven. He doesn’t even know what embarrassment is.”

“What can I get you ladies?” Madame Rosmerta interrupts their conversation and they order four hot chocolates and a butterbeer.

“How is he getting on?” Lily asks once their drinks are being made.

Marlene shrugs, “Okay, I think. He’s got friends but I think he’s struggling with all the new magic. He never expected there to be so much theory.”

Lily thinks about how much theory they have in sixth year and laughs, “You gonna warn him?”

“I would if we had had lunch today,” Marlene says jutting her chin out. Lily grins and then accepts the tray from Madame Rosmerta, levitating it over to the table because she doesn’t want to risk dropping it. Tegan picks it up out the air and sets it down on the table, handing the drinks out.

“Butterbeer? In the morning,” Remus says, feigning outrage.

“Fuck off Lupin,” Marlene says and flicks some of the froth into his face.

“What’s that?” Asks Lily, leaning across the table to see what Potter and Black are reading. It’s a small pamphlet with a sketch of Hogwarts on the front.

“’A hit by hex commentary of the confrontation that has the whole castle talking’,”

 says Potter, pitching his voice to a tone that reminds Lily of him in first year.

"By Gilderoy Lockhart,” adds Black.

Lily frowns, “The Ravenclaw boy who tried to kick Peeves out the castle last year?”

“Hogwart’s very own Narcissus,” Remus confirms.

“What’s he saying?” Tegan asks, cradling her chin in her hand to listen.

Black clears his throat and then begins reading, “’If you weren’t lucky enough to witness the fight that everyone’s been talking about then, fear not, because our Editor-in-Chief, the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart was there and has all the action for you, straight from the side lines.’”

“Editor-in-Chief?” Marlene snatches the pamphlet from Black’s hand and looks at the back where there’s a list of contributors. “’Editor-in-Chief, Gilderoy Lockhart. Editor, Gilderoy Lockhart. Researcher, Gilderoy Lockhart. Manufacturing, Gilderoy Lockhart. Publisher, Lockhart Incorporated…’ Is this even allowed?”

“He was handing them out in the Entrance Hall until Filch confiscated them off him,” Peter shrugs, “so probably not.”

“Filch will confiscate anything though. Remember when he tried to take those dungbombs off us in third year?” Pouts Black, snatching the pamphlet back and tossing it onto the table. On the other side a sketch of Lockhart himself grins toothily up at them all, hair waving slightly.

“I wonder why he’d do a thing like that,” Maya says and rolls her eyes. Black pointedly refuses to acknowledge her comment.

“Apparently he’s petitioning Dumbledore to start an official Hogwarts newspaper.” Remus, wanting to get back on the subject, says and flips the pamphlet over to point at the title. Lily reads it upside down. If The Walls Could Talk.

“Sounds more like a gossip rag if you ask me,” Tegan says, although she does look interested. Students at Hogwarts are bred to be interested in everyone’s business and the idea of it being delivered routinely in a neat little phamplet isn’t too shabby.

“Funny you should say that…” Peter points to the contents, squashed below the sketch of the castle. He reads it out, “Page 1, Current Affairs; page 2, Affairs.”

"Very tasteful,” Lily says with a snort that almost sprays her friends with hot chocolate.

“Which does your fight fall under?” Asks Mary innocently.

“Ha,” Potter smirks, “both.” He stretches his arms into the air and then clasps his hands behind his head, knocking Black’s shoulder in the process.

“Arrogance isn’t a virtue you know,” Maya tuts.

“Let him have it, it’s his only personality trait,” Marlene says dryly. This gets a laugh out of everyone but Potter just frowns, looking genuinely upset. Although Lily can’t be sure, because she hasn’t got all of his facial expressions catalogued. That would mean she’d spent a long time looking at him, and that definitely is not the case.

They all leave just as it starts snowing, the hot chocolate in her stomach not hot enough to keep Lily warm for longer than a second. She shivers as the snow finds its way to every bit of her exposed skin and wishes she had a time-turner so she could dress more warmly this morning.

“No scarf?” Potter asks, letting the other three boys pull ahead with a more relaxed strut.

Lily looks up at him, ignoring Marlene’s eyebrows behind him. “At the bottom of my trunk. I thought the summer might hold out a little longer.”

“This is Scotland,” he smiles and then unwinds his scarf from his neck before holding it out to her. She waves it away, words stuck in her throat, so he just wraps it around her neck, warm fingers brushing her skin once, twice. “I’m built to handle the cold.”

“With all your layers of fat?” Finally she finds her voice, and manages to raise an eyebrow too. Cool, cool.

“Exactly Evans,” Potter grins and takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, “exactly.”

“Thanks,” she says, before he turns away.

“What are friends for,” he winks and then turns, almost slipping on the wet ground but catching himself just in time. He jogs to catch up with the boys and Lily imagines the blush on his face.

“Nice scarf,” Maya says, slinging her arm over Lily’s shoulder at the same time Mary does. Lily blushes and ducks her head down, burying her chin into the scarf and pretending not to hear her friends.

October drags, sticking its heels in and refusing to leave. The snow doesn’t settle, just leaves the grounds soggy and the castle cold. Professors take the opportunity to give the sixth years even more work and Lily finds herself in the library every spare moment, trying to finish essays before she is handed the next one.

Distractions worm their way in though, and she finds herself playing Exploding Snap with the Marauders or walking down to the pitch to watch the Gryffindor’s practice or flicking through to the back of Witch Weekly. One day she even finds herself reading through all of Lockhart’s If The Walls Could Talk, which Filch had officially classed as contraband two weeks ago. A perk of being a prefect though is that she still gets access to all the contraband she confiscates, so she hides herself behind a pile of books on conjuring spells and flicks through the copies.

Rumour has it that Lucinda Talkalot is only second rate on the pitch, but first rate in bed… What a lot of people don’t know is that the Lockhart family actually founded… To take a sneak peek inside the library’s Restricted... This week in the Hufflepuff’s surprisingly rowdy… her eyes wander over the pages, taking in the Affairs section but skipping over the Current Affairs, which always seem to relate back to Lockhart or his family’s achievements.

She pretends she’s reading all of them just for something to do. But she also pushes all the other copies to the side when she finds the one she wants.

… straight from the side lines. It all began with a single, off-hand comment from Slytherin Quidditch team member Evan Rosier. “How did your summer go?” He asked the handsome member of the Marauders, Sirius Black. This was apparently a touchy subject for Mr Black, who didn’t answer Rosier’s question but instead hexed him. James Potter, Marauder and man who got rejected by Lily Evans… Lily stops reading and takes a steadying breath. …was not happy about this and soon it was an all-out brawl. The Marauders can certainly handle themselves in a fight, but so can Slytherins and it’s hard to say who would have won if Professor McGonagall, hard line teacher and animagus, hadn’t intervened.

“Not the best writer, is he?” Potter announces himself, appearing suddenly over her stack of books and making her jump. Lily slams the pamphlet down and pushes the pile away, although it’s too late to pretend she hadn’t been reading it. Potter winks as if he’s just discovered some big secret and is promising not to share it. “Don’t worry, we all have guilty pleasures.”

“It’s not… I was just…” Lily pulls her wand from her bun and arranges her hair to calm herself down. “I thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.”

Potter grins and asks, “Which one were you perusing… ah,” he snatches up the one she’d dropped like it’d burnt her. “Thought this was old news by now?”

“Took it off a Slytherin beater this morning. They’re still not over it,” she says, happy to have some sort of defence.

“No,” he drops down into the other chair, “they don’t seem to have the ability to get over things. Terrible at obstacle courses, I heard.” Potter smiles at his own terrible joke, half hiding it behind the pamphlet. Lily struggles not to smile back. “Hey,” he looks up, “I tell you who else hasn’t gotten over this. Pa- Black. He won’t stop quoting it to us. ‘The handsome member of the Marauders’ has really gone to his head. I don’t suppose you could do a mate a favour and –“

“Confiscate his copy?” Interrupts Lily.

“He’s got eight copies, Evans, eight! I don’t know where he’s getting them from. Every time I throw one away, another is on my pillow when I get back.” He shakes his head and tilts the chair back, looking quite put out by the whole thing, “Disgusting.”

“I did always think it was Remus who was the handsome one,” Lily says, looking at him out of the corner of her eye whilst she pretends to flick through the other pamphlets.

“Each to their own, I’ve always rather fancied Pete myself.”

“Potter?” She looks at him suddenly, the thought burning in her head since she read the story.

He looks at her. His smile hesitates, as if he knows what’s coming. “Evans?”

“Is his summer a touchy subject?”

Potter tilts the chair back further. Runs a hand through his hair. Considers her. Runs a hand through his hair again. Then he says, “I don’t know if I’m the one you should be asking.”

This is a fair answer. This is also a true answer, but Lily knows Black would sooner give Lockhart an exclusive on his summer than answer any questions she has about it. “But he’s okay? That’s what I meant.”

“He had a change of address,” Potter says, no longer looking at her and setting his chair back down. He hands her back the pamphlet and sounds eerily expressionless when he speaks again. “Good luck with all that reading.”

She doesn’t want him to leave on a sour note. Not that it’s sour. Just… stale. “Where are you going?” He swings around and shrugs, half smile, his half smile on his face.

“Got some planning to do. Can’t be known as the Marauder who got rejected by Lily Evans forever, can I? Need to make a name for myself.” His hazel eyes meet hers for a second, almost as if daring her to keep talking about the subject, but then -

“Shh!” Madam Pince appears, armed with her feather duster and a half manic look in her eyes.

“See you around, Evans,” Potter stage-whispers before saluting Pince. The librarian replies by chasing him with her duster. Lily watches him out the library and then drops her head onto the desk and groans to herself. You’re a knob.

A few seconds later, she’s jerking her head up again as a first year timidly approaches and shoves a familiar looking scroll onto the desk. Before Lily can ask anything or say thank you, the first year runs off and disappears amongst the shelves. She shakes her head and unfurls the scroll, happy to see that this year Slughorn has skipped the exploding confetti.

Dear Miss Evans,

It has been too long delayed but I would now like to cordially invite you to a meal to celebrate the start of the school year on 15^th November. There will of course be excellent food and, as always, stimulating company. Do let me know if you’ll be in attendance, although I’m not sure what else you have to be doing!

          Prof. H. Slughorn

Chapter Text

The Gryffindor common room was presumably built with rowdiness in mind. As Lily surveys the party, she decides this is a good thing. Every corner and hideaway has been monopolized by a couple, including Marlene and her partner. She’s broken her own rule of ‘not shitting where she eats’ and seems very comfortable in the lap of the Gryffindor’s seeker, Langley Robins.

Everyone else is either dancing or watching the half wrestling match, half full blown brawl taking place on the other side of the room. She would intervene, except it’s three third years and none of them have enough upper body strength to do any real harm. Plus, she’s sort of tipsy. Sort of being an understatement, and tipsy being a lie.

“Drunk, Evans?”

“Very,” she answers before she realises she’s opened her mouth. And before she’s seen who’s asking. “I mean, no. I’m a prefect. That would be… that would be inappropriate behaviour.”

The mystery voice turns out to be Potter – fuck – wearing the most dizzyingly patterned shirt Lily has ever seen. “Someone should tell Remus that,” he says, pointing. Lily, slowly, follows his arm, then his finger, across to where Remus is slumped in an arm chair. He’s passed out in a matching shirt, a truly nauseating number, firewhiskey bottle dangling precariously from his fingers. Peter (also wearing the same shirt) is trying to see how much stuff he can stack on him before he wakes up. Lily counts five cushions, two bottles of ink, about a dozen empty bottles and, on his chest, one sleeping Artemis. Lily can’t help the giggle that escapes. The very girlish giggle she would usually only employ when she’s flirting. Which she’s not. “Enjoying the party?”

“Excellent affair,” she says, lurching her arm forward to raise her bottle. She thinks she’s trying to cheers the party. It looks like she’s trying to knock him out. He has chaser reflexes though and dodges out of the way before any of it spills on him.

“Woah. You weren’t lying, eh?” He grins and it’s a smug grin and she hates him for it.

“Fuck off Potter. As if you’re sober,” she says this with a stab of her finger into his chest.            

He laughs, a chuckle really, and who the fuck chuckles these days? “More than you are.” He gently pushes her hand from his rib cage and takes a swig of his firewhiskey. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s Potter for fuck’s sake it’s not like you’re flirting.

“Where’s Black, anyway?” Lily asks, because she doesn’t want to talk about how she’s drunk and he’s not. That’s a dangerous mix.

“Doing what Black does best,” Potter says. He points again and Lily sees Black in the centre of the common room, lazily perched on an arm chair, giving a monologue to a crowd of admirers.

“Harassing people?”

“I believe he’s giving a retelling of one our best pranks, actually,” Potter says, jumping up to sit next to her on the table. Lily tries not to notice that their shoulders brush.

“Second year swimming pool?”

“Fourth year vanishing act, I think.”

“That was only average.”

“McGonagall fell for it.”

“She was only pretending,” Lily says, and then burps. “Didn’t want to bruise your egos.”

“Interesting take.”

“Factually correct.”

“You think the swimming pool was one of our best?” He sounds genuinely curious.

“I like swimming. Wasn’t bad.”  

Potter finishes his drink and swings his legs back and forth. Doesn’t say anything. Lily watches his feet disappear and reappear beneath the table. Listens to the beat in her head, which is just out of time with the music. I’m just a witch, you can’t claim I’m a bitch, that title is yours, I’ll watch you crawling away on all fours. She wonders who’s controlling the music.

"Evans?”

“Huh?” She jerks her head up to look at him. Sees herself reflected in his glasses. Sees how close her face is to his.

“I said I better go intervene before Sirius wags his tongue off,” Potter says, sliding off the table and clinking their bottles together. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wish him a happy birthday from me,” Lily calls after him and he salutes her. She watches him work his way through the dancing throng and knock Black over the head. Then she makes herself look away. Then she tries to figure out what that feeling in her stomach is.

She can’t place her finger on it though. It hasn’t got the familiar wave of better-find-a-toilet nausea, and it doesn’t feel like butterflies. Not that she’s sure anyone has ever actually had butterflies in their stomach. “Just a metaphor,” she mumbles to herself. It feels like someone has electrified her, hollowed her out and stuck a charge in there. Fucking firewhiskey, she thinks.

 Whatever that feeling was last night, it’s absolutely better-find-a-toilet nausea that wakes her up the next day. Fucking Merlin’s arse, she thinks as she dives out of her four poster, tripping over the duvet in the process, and stumbles across the dorm to the toilet. It’s locked. Fucking hell.

“I will throw up on someone’s four poster,” Lily croaks, banging a fist on the door.

“What –“ the door rips open a second later and Marlene hops out, pyjama shorts still around her ankles. “Go go go.”

Lily scrambles past her and slams the toilet seat up before hanging her head over it and burping. It’s there but it’s not coming up and maybe if she – Marlene rubs her back once and that’s all it takes.

“Is that Lily?” she hears Mary ask and then laugh, but she doesn’t have the energy to give her the middle finger. Besides, she needs both hands to cling onto the toilet’s bowl because if she lets go she think she might fall in. Marlene is holding her hair back, rubbing her scalp soothingly, and Lily tries to focus on that instead of the regurgitation of her insides. It’s difficult though, given it is bright fucking red, with mysterious chunks of something yellow she can’t remember eating recently.

"Even your sick is proud to be in Gryffindor,” Marlene adds unhelpfully.

“Firewhiskey,” Lily groans and then coughs and throws up some more lumpy, proud-to-be-in-Gryffindor sick. The smell of her own vomit and the toilet wash over her head and it’s surreal. She still feels drunk.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” asks Marlene, crouching next to her limp body. Lily shakes her head, resting her cheek on the bowl while her friend tries to stroke the tangled heap on her head. “You gave a fifth year a strip tease.”

“Fuck off, McKinnon,” Lily sighs and closes her eyes. There’s more sick to come, she can tell. But for now it’s just teasing her.

"You did want to though, Evans,” Maya’s voice floats through from the room, giving more colour to the event that Lily can’t quite put a finger on. “Tegan had to hold you back.”

“To be fair, he was attractive,” Marlene says flippantly.

“Fifteen though,” Lily only needs to hear the tone of her voice to picture Maya’s outraged expression. “Fifteen!”

“Firewhiskey.” Lily reiterates into the toilet flatly. “Fucking firewhiskey. Thanks Tegan.” She knows there isn’t an explicit rule against giving out strip teases, but she wouldn’t have wanted to find out the consequences if she’d been successful in her endeavour.

“She’s asleep,” Maya calls back too loudly. Too fucking loudly.

“Stop yelling then,” Lily says, then considers. “Please.”

Marlene laughs and accidentally shakes Lily’s head and then – Lily lurches forward and gags.

“Gross.”

After a few weeks of restless expectation and dozens of complaints from Marlene and Tegan, the first Quidditch match of the season is underway. Potter had spent all breakfast hyping the team up with rallying slaps on the backs, and refusing to acknowledge that the weather could be anything but perfect. The fog from last night has only thickened though. Lily can barely see to the end of the row, let alone the players on the pitch.

Occasionally, snippets of shouting break through the fog. They’re faint and vague and not at all enough to tell what’s going on. This hasn’t stopped the Marauders from chanting their support though and, sadly, Lily and her friends are directly in earshot. "Potter, your slippery otter! Weave in and out and give their goalie a clout!"

“Didn’t you use that one second year?” Maya turns around and asks mid-way through their fifth run of it, sounding only slightly judgemental.

Sirius raises an eyebrow at her and huffs in disdain, “We would never repeat a chant. We are original -”

“Our creative juices were kind of stunted this summer. The next one is from third year,” interrupts Remus with a shrug, earning a punch to the shoulder for his trouble.

“You realise he probably can’t hear you,” says Mary as she turns around too, the game not that interesting when all you can see is faint shadows passing by. It’s much more entertaining to take the piss out of Sirius anyway.

“When you’ve got eyes as bad as his,” Sirius starts.

 “You’ve got to have good ears,” Peter finishes, shaking his head solemnly.  

“Makes talking about him really difficult,” Remus says, disappointed.

“He talks about himself enough, you guys don’t need to,” says Lily, finally deciding to join the conversation. She stays facing the pitch though, trying to discern the figures.

Peter just lets out a small laugh and says too casually, “Well, funnily enough, he’s actually broadened his horizons.” Now Lily twists her head with a frown, eyeing Remus’ smirking face and Sirius’ bored expression. “Not very far though.”

After a pause that lasts too long, Maya’s sarcastic, “How cryptic,” snaps the silence. Behind them the shouts are louder but the words still impossible to make out.

“It’s getting boring,” Sirius says, waving his hand dismissively as if he can brush the subject away.

“You’re just jealous,” Remus says and, again, gets a punch in the shoulder for his trouble.

“Well, are you gonna spill the details or not?” asks Mary, tilting her head pointedly, and Lily turns back to the game – which is really just fog – because she’s not sure if she wants to see the boys’ expressions for the next bit of conversation.

“Marauders honour. Can’t,” they say in unison, raising their hands to their breast as if singing the national anthem. Maya and Mary groan in reply.

“Wankers,” mutters Lily, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck and pretending not to care that they haven’t answered. Potter’s moved on. He must have. He’s had all summer to get over her – not that Lily’s too sure he ever properly fancied her. Sev used to bring it up sometimes, when he thought she was defending them, but he was just trying to cause shit. And Potter, well, he had asked her out, that rushed ‘I will if you go out with me Evans’ she had almost forgotten about; all of it had been buried under mudblood mudblood mudblood. It hadn’t meant anything though. It couldn’t have. He was just giving the crowd the drama they wanted, like always.

 That’s what she’d spent fifth year telling herself whenever the girls – traitors – informed her that Potter was staring at Lily instead of the teacher or his lunch or the boys. So, if he never really fancied her why could he still be talking about her? It’s not logical, she tells herself, happy to have mentally carried herself away from the idea that Potter would have any reason to talk about her like that. They’re friends now. Still, she keeps listening, just in case, as Mary tells them that Marauders’ honour is a load of bullshit and to spill it. Unsurprisingly, they don’t.

The game goes on and the Marauders’ chants catch on at points, the whole Gryffindor stand cheering the team on. At others it's quiet and the commentator fails to keep spirits up by telling Quidditch puns. Ones worse than Potter’s and not as funny, eliciting groans from the audience more often than not.

Gryffindor scores two goals and then Slytherin scores three and Gryffindor gives away a penalty for a foul no one in the stands can see. By the time the fog has started to clear it’s reached the three hour mark and a good chunk of the stands have emptied, people traipsing back up to the castle’s warmth to have dinner and watch from the towers. Maya leaves with most of the crowd, complaining that she didn’t really want to be there in the first place, leaving Mary and Lily to huddle together against the cold and the Marauders’ chants.

Then, all of a sudden, without any warning, it rains and the last of the fog goes in the short shower, revealing the whole pitch at last and partly reviving the crowd. Lily leans forwards, searching out the seeker who’s circling above the Slytherin team, wide laps around the pitch, methodical. Neither seeker looks exactly hopeful and Lily lets her eyes drift to the actual game, which has sped up now the players can actually fly without having to worry about crashing into the other players.

Now the fog has cleared, it’s also easier to hear a certain eager chaser’s bellows clearly. “Pass! Pass!” Potter throws the ball up and Marlene races forward to snatch it, dodging a bludger before passing back to Potter who has managed to gain twenty metres on the Slytherin chaser who had been marking him. It’s the first manoeuvre the crowd has actually been able to watch.

“Slytherin for the win! Slytherin gets the goals in!” The Slytherin stand starts chanting and stomping their feet as their seeker dives, shooting across the pitch from her position above the Slytherin goal posts and darting towards where the play is happening.

“Gryffindor is heading towards the goal but - what’s this… Slytherin’s seeker Regulus Black is diving! Has he spotted the snitch? Gryffindor’s seeker, Robins, is far behind, surely too far… Potter drops the ball, McKinnon catches it, passes to Macmillan, Macmillan gets hit by a bludger - that will hurt… Black is right in there! What is he doing? Looking for the snitch or trying to catch the quaffle?” The commentator is as confused as the crowd, everyone yelling and heckling Black or cheering him on as he darts in between the chasers, Gryffindor’s seeker not risking joining the fray and instead flying just below.

“Spread out!” Potter’s voice booms over the clamour. “We aren’t fucking bumblebees!”

“Potter reminding his team they aren’t insects there. Was there something in the pumpkin juice this morning? Black is still being a menace and there’s no sign of the snitch from here… will Hooch call foul? Obstruction? Gryffindor has lost the ball, but they aren’t letting Slytherin make any ground.”

“What is he doing? He’s doing it on fucking purpose!” Sirius says through gritted teeth, knuckles white as he grips the stand’s railings and watches his brother fly.

“Get him off!”

“Ref!”

“Are you having a lau-“

The stands are feverish as Regulus clips Marlene’s broomtail and she loses control for a second, missing the quaffle the third chaser has thrown her. Slytherin gets it again and Potter bolts, forcing a pass which he then intercepts.

“Go on!” Lily leans over the stands as he races forwards, dodging a bludger and ducking beneath the Slytherin beater. Tegan circles Regulus, waving her beater’s bat with fervour and stopping him from any more interference. Robins returns to circling, eyes darting over the pitch like a magpie looking for its next target.

“Goal for Gryffindor! Potter scores a goal, right past the goalie’s head! Poor Slytherin. Maybe rethink your team?” The Gryffindor stands, what’s left of them, scream and wave their flags, cheering as the team collide with Potter to congratulate them on his goal. “And Hooch has given Gryffindor a free go at goal for Black’s interference! Marlene McKinnon moves up to take it and -”

The crowd cheers again as the Slytherin goalie screws up the save and the quaffle goes through, moving the score up to 40-30 to Gryffindor. It doesn’t slow for the next hour and the scoreboard shifts constantly, Gryffindor always ten up or ten down. By the time it’s reached the five hour mark even the Marauders are starting to quiet. Madame Pomfrey is bustling through the stands, checking that people aren’t too hungry or dehydrated or cold and sending them up to the castle if they’re the slightest bit off colour.

Lily waves her away when she reaches her, and the Marauders do the same, Mary looking slightly put out that she doesn’t get sent inside.

At the eight hour mark, there are only a few teachers and a scattering of students left and night has darkened the sky. McGonagall and the other house heads are walking among the stands, trying to convince students to at least go and get some food. Lily and Remus run to the castle for a quick snack trip and bring back steaming mugs of hot chocolate and plates of toast for the group to make their way through.

It’s not going to be enough.

“If this goes on for much longer, I may throw myself off these stands,” Mary mutters, huddling closer to Lily under the blanket Madame Pomfrey had wrapped them in.

“Would you mind, MacDonald? Saves us pushing you,” Sirius says from behind, feigning innocence when Mary turns around and glares.

“Take him with you if you do,” says Remus. He looks tired and cold and Lily is tempted to say she’s calling it quits so he can join her without admitting to anything. The Marauders have never left a game though so she doubts he’ll go with her anyway. Sirius has also noticed, judging from the fact he doesn’t respond to Remus and just gives him his blanket to add to the three already cocooning him.

Peter points to the pitch and says, “Tegan’s back on.”

Player substitutions had started around four hours in and so far every single player has been swapped out, except for Potter. Hooch had called a timeout at one point to check he wasn’t simply asleep on his broom and he hadn’t even dismounted to tell her he was going to play until the end of the match. Idiot, Lily thinks, watching him intercept the quaffle and score yet another goal. There’s still only two goals difference between the teams but it’s obvious Slytherin is starting to slip a little bit. They have less reserve players than Gryffindor and their captain hasn’t been waking them up at Merlin cursed hours to work on their cardio, and it’s all beginning to show.

Forty-eight minutes later Gryffindor’s seeker makes a sudden turn and before anyone even has any idea what’s going on, Hooch is blowing the whistle and both teams are descending to the ground. Although there’s only a scattering of students left, the Gryffindor stands still manage to make some noise, the other stands emptying immediately now they have no reason to stay. Lily, Mary and the boys shout themselves hoarse. The Slytherins slump off their broomsticks and have to wait whilst the Gryffindor team untangle themselves from the group hug formed around Robins before forming a line to shake hands.

Even from the seats Potter’s grin is visible as he slaps his teammates’ backs, only then allowing Madame Pomfrey to descend on him with blankets. The Marauders, Mary and Lily make their way down the stands, joining the victorious team and congratulating them. The girls seek out Tegan and Marlene who, despite their chattering teeth, look pretty pleased.

“You were great out there guys.” Lily hugs them tightly and then wraps her blanket round their shoulders before they can protest. “You need it more than I do.”

“You’re not getting mine,” Mary says, with a frown.

“Thanks guys. I think I can just about feel my hands,” Marlene says, laughing. McGonagall appears then, smiling from ear to ear, with a harried looking Madame Pomfrey at her side.

“It’s ridiculous Minerva! He shouldn’t be allowed to -”

“Poppy, he’s off the pitch now and you can detain him in the Hospital Wing for as long as you like, if you feel he really needs it. But look at the boy – does he seem ill?” It becomes apparent they’re discussing Potter when McGonagall gestures towards him. He has donated all of his blankets to Remus and is the only one of the team with any colour in his cheeks. The matron huffs and bustles off to him, McGonagall’s smile returning to her face as she reaches Tegan and Marlene.

Lily takes the chance to look over her shoulder again, the happiness on Potter’s face marred only by the slight furrow in his brow. He’s concerned about Remus and whenever Madame Pomfrey magicks up a blanket, he discards it to give to his friend. Sirius and Peter are watching in amusement, although Sirius keeps looking across to the Slytherin team distractedly. Remus simply stands there and accepts every blanket Potter wraps around him, knowing if he puts up a fuss it will be worse. There’s so many wrapped around him, his face is beginning to disappear. He looks like a lumpy, cuddly caterpillar. In rolling his eyes at Madame Pomfrey, Potter catches Lily looking at him.

For a second, he seems surprised that she’s watching him. Then his lips quirk up and he winks. Lily’s mouth, ajar, embarrasses her and then she whips around because she’s been caught staring at him and that wasn’t meant to happen.

McGonagall must notice the sudden red on her face because she stops discussing tactics with the others to focus on Lily. She smiles gently and says, “Look at me, keeping you all out in the cold. Get on with you. Jones and McKinnon, make sure you shower and wrap up warm. You two,” she shakes a finger in imitation of sternness at Mary and Lily. “Ensure they have a hot chocolate. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

Their head of house moves on to the last group still hanging around, interrupting Potter from trying to convince Madame Pomfrey he’s fine and ordering him to get into the shower and then report straight to the Hospital Wing. As the girls walk away, they can hear McGonagall telling Peter and Sirius off for allowing Remus and Potter to stay out for so long and Madame Pomfrey cajoling Potter.

“He’s probably going to catch pneumonia,” Mary says, looking over her shoulder, not sounding too bothered.

“Good. He deserves it after all he’s put us through,” Marlene says and nudges Mary. “He’s a bully.”

“A bully who just made us win our first game,” interjects Tegan, raising her eyebrows as if to challenge Marlene.

“Against Slytherin!” says Lily with a grin. “You fucked them right up.”

“We did, didn’t we?” 

The party is already in full flow by the time they get back, and Marlene and Tegan are torn away from them by their team members.

“S’pose we better find Maya,” Lily says.

“Tell her the good news,” laughs Mary. “Because she cares so much.” Lily rolls her eyes but they push through the crowd until they find her, sat on one of the tables in the shadows. She’s doing McGonagall’s essay and is struggling to concentrate as it is without them pestering her, so they leave her with the pumpkin juice they’d picked up along the way and enter the fray.

“Should we find Potter?” asks Lily, once they’ve circled the room twice, unable to get to Marlene and Tegan who are in the middle of a play-by-play of the Regulus’ dirty tactic.

Mary immediately spins round to face her. “Why’s that?”   

“Um.” Lily falters, surprised by Mary’s reaction. “To congratulate him?”

“Since when have we said well done to Potter?”

“Since… well…” Thinking about it, Lily supposes they never really have said well done to Potter after a match. And, if she really pushes the thought, she’s not sure why she wants to change that all of a sudden. “We don’t have to.”

“No, by all means,” Mary says, stepping aside and sweeping her arm gracefully in the direction of the Marauders, “go ahead. Congratulate Potter.” She has this stupid smirk on her face and it looks like one of Marlene’s, which makes Lily nervous because Mary only looks like that when she knows something you don’t.

“What is it?” she asks, swatting Mary’s arm down before anyone notices.

“Oh,” Mary shrugs, purposefully not meeting Lily’s eye. “Nothing.”

“Well that just means everything, doesn’t it,” Lily says tiredly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mary says, innocent as a thief.

“You’re a knob and I’m going to get some more butterbeer.” She turns around because she doesn’t want to look at Mary’s I-know-something-you-don’t-know face anymore and because she suddenly very much doesn’t want to congratulate Potter at all.

For the rest of the party, she takes refuge at Maya’s table, only dragged up a few times by the second years she’s tutoring in Charms and an incredibly drunk Tegan. Maya asks her what’s wrong every time she sits back down sighing but Lily only rests her chin on her folded arms and tries to avoid looking at Potter. She’s not sure she even would be looking at Potter, but now Mary’s put the idea in her head she feels like there’s a need to actively not look at him.

Which means she doesn’t see him looking at her. Or his several attempts to cross the room to talk to her, thwarted each time by Gryffindors eager to slap him on the back and offer him more to drink.

“Where are you off to?” Lily jumps as she opens the dormitory door from the inside, at the same time Marlene opens it from the outside.

“To Slughorn’s dinner,” she says, almost self-consciously.

Marlene rolls her eyes. “Lucky sod. My mum always tells me I should try to get in on those.”

“They’re archaic!” sing-songs Maya from her four-poster, rolling onto her side to join the conversation.

Lily bites the inside of her cheek. “Well I enjoy them so I’m going.”

“Suit yourself,” Marlene says, standing aside to let her through. “Try and bring back some of the pudding would you? What was it last time?”

"Fudge cake and ice cream,” Lily says over her shoulder, already walking down the corridor. She just hears Marlene’s jealous moan before the door shuts.

Maya’s not wrong, she thinks as she makes her way down the stairs and through the common room, but Maya also grew up in the wizarding world. She knew about Slughorn long before she came to Hogwarts. Lily’s first invite to the Slug Club had been unexpected. Two weeks into September of first year, Slughorn had asked her to stay behind and passed on the invite himself, explaining it was a little gathering of those he thought worthy enough to enjoy each other’s intellect and company. Or something pretentious like that. And that first dinner had been brilliant, if not tinged by the way some of the guests, whose faces she can’t even remember now, looked down at their noses when she had mentioned she was muggleborn.

Slughorn hadn’t minded. In fact, he’d though it only added to her brilliance. Which he stated on many occasions. It was nice to hear this in her first year, especially in contrast to Snape suddenly hanging out with boys who refused to talk to her in the queue outside Transfiguration. Not once has Slughorn doubted or categorised or reduced her to something she isn’t or something she can’t do. To him she is purely a measure of her skills, blood purity be damned. Which is why she still goes, despite Maya only attending the dinners and parties until third year. It’s nice to feel valued, to feel recognised for excelling. That and, as Marlene always moans about missing out on, the food is fantastic.

As she turns the corner onto Slughorn’s corridor she flinches as she almost runs straight into a stormy looking Sirius.

“Merlin’s soggy arse, Evans, what the fuck are you doing?” he snaps, roughly stepping back and shaking out his robes as if she’d muddied them or something. She fights back the urge to roll her eyes. Giving in to it has never helped in a situation where Black is involved.

“Going to Slughorn’s office,” she says and crosses her arms over her chest. “Isn’t that where you’re meant to be too?” Black stares at her, scowl twisting into scorn. It would probably be surly, if his features allowed for such stockiness.

“Aren’t you above that peacocking by now, Evans?” Black straightens his back, which Lily didn’t think could be any more well postured, and crosses his arm in clear imitation of her.

“You’ve never turned away from it before,” she fires back, and she’s not wrong. For all his high-and-mightiness, Black has never said no to one of Slughorn’s invitations. At first she’d thought it was only so he and Potter could find a way to disrupt the gatherings. Then Potter had stopped coming and well, Black kept coming.

“Been taking a register?”

“I have eyes, Black,” she says half-sarcastic, half-tired. “Are you going or not? I don’t want to be late.” 

“Slughorn’s guest list leaves a lot to be desired this time,” he steps to the side and gestures towards Slughorn’s door dramatically, mock bow and all, “but you enjoy yourself.”

Lily’s brow furrows and she opens her mouth to ask him what he’s talking about, but Black doesn’t give her the chance. Before she can form a question, he’s vanished around the corner and she’s left to open Slughorn’s door not knowing who’s on the other side.

The table in the middle of the office is set for eight but just as Lily steps in, Slughorn vanishes one of the place settings, looking flustered. He looks up at the sound of the door shutting and quickly grins, waddling over to guide her towards the table.

“Ah, Miss Evans! Our last guest, wonderful, wonderful, do sit down-” He pulls a chair out for her as she takes in the other students. The Head Boy smiles at her, she recognises two fifth year Hufflepuffs and quickly realises why Sirius left as Regulus nods curtly at her. Next to him the Slytherin captain, Hawthorne, is smirking and it doesn’t take a genius to guess that words have already been exchanged. “Now, I think it would be best, yes, if we all just forget what happened and get on with our welcome dinner! What do you all say?” Slughorn looks eagerly around the table, smile strained, and grabs on to one of the Huffelpuffs nodding. “Brilliant, brilliant!” He waves his wand and their plates fill with a mixture of veg and salmon. “Dig in!”

Lily eats, making sure her mouth is always full whenever the conversation lulls so that Slughorn can’t spring her with a question. She needs the starter to figure out what in Merlin’s name is going on.

Objectively, it’s none of her business. Sirius isn’t her best friend, isn’t even her friend, and he’s never before confided in her, or suggested that he wants to. It’s none of her business. But… this feels familiar to Lily. The distracted staring, the touchy summer, the inability to stay in the same room as each other. This feels like her and Petunia, growing apart, growing up, tearing away. Sirius and Regulus have never been like her and Petunia though. Even with the Marauders as Sirius’ best friends and Sev’s group as Regulus’ regulars, they’ve always been connected. Lily has seen them snatching conversations in the corridors, has witnessed brewing fights cooled off by Sirius because his brother is there, caught Sirius refusing to cheer on Hufflepuff against Slytherin because despite everything, his brother still made seeker and he doesn’t want to actively cheer on the opposing team. They’ve managed, house rivalry be damned, to stay connected. Until, apparently, now.

It’s none of your business, she tells herself because it really isn’t. It feels wrong though, to leave it. There’s nothing you can do. And that, Lily realises with a soft sigh, is the truth. At the end of the day, Sirius is not her friend and would likely hex her before taking advice from her, so there isn’t anything she can do.

“- and Lily is proving to be an excellent help with the new prefects-”

She darts her eyes up from her plate to see the Head Boy and Slughorn smiling at her, and she registers she’s being talked about.

“Now that’s not a surprise at all! Lily spends most of our Potions lessons making sure her friends don’t blow anything up, don’t you?” Slughorn chuckles.

Lily runs an unsettled hand through her hair because it’s not the whole truth and she’s still not quite used to Slughorn’s hyperbole when it comes to her own talents. “I think we’ve all come a long way since first year sir, there haven’t been any explosions recently.”

“Such a dab hand you are though, I still think the Sorting Hat missed your talent when sorting you,” Slughorn says, wagging his fork at her. “Slytherin would be lucky to have you.”

“I think Salazar Slytherin would disagree with you, Professor,” Hawthorne chimes in before Lily has a chance to. “Didn’t he only have purebloods in mind when he founded the house?”

The table goes quiet. Lily bites the inside of her cheek, stomach churning. Everyone looks from Slughorn to Hawthorne to Lily. The Head Boy looks like he regrets ever mentioning her name. Slughorn is staring at Hawthorne, fork now hovering half way between his mouth and his plate.

Lily takes a careful breath and reminds herself that if she replies how she wants to, it will probably end with her being cursed in the corridor afterwards. You can’t respond. You can’t cry. Just breathe. “Well, Sir, unfortunately for you, I don’t think green is my colour.” Refusing to look at Hawthorne, Lily watches Slughorn’s face contort until it finally lands on relief.

He lets out a loud belly-laugh, and the Head Boy follows suit, “Miss Evans! You are quite a piece of work, aren’t you!” He shakes his head, still laughing, and Lily shrugs coyly, playing along. “Anyway, enough of houses, who wants the main course?”

The dinner struggles along disjointedly after that, Hawthorne bitterly ignoring every question Slughorn aims at her and Slughorn still looking out of breath from laughter. Everyone seems relieved when dessert, even though it is delicious and Lily wishes she could actually focus on the fudge instead of the sour taste still left in her mouth, vanishes from their plates and Slughorn bids them to hurry back to their dorms. Just as Lily’s about to leave, Slughorn shuts the door, blocking her exit.

“Everything alright, Professor?” she asks, knowing what’s about to come.

“Lily, I –“ He rubs his chin, folding the skin up like dough. “You handled that very well I must say, and I don’t want you to think my silence was agreement with Miss Hawthorne. I was taken aback, in the moment, you understand?” Slughorn says, smiling tersely.

Are you okay, Miss Evans? Miss Hawthorne shouldn’t have said that. I will be giving her detention. Miss Evans, I hope you aren’t upset – Lily brushes away what she thought Slughorn had been going to say and quickly smiles, “Of course, Sir, I understand. Don’t worry about it.” He’s covering his back, not defending her. She’s not sure how surprised she really is. “Anyway, I better be getting back, after curfew and all that,” she says, nodding towards the door.

“Oh oh, yes of course, sorry.” He opens the door for her. “Goodnight Miss Evans. I’ll see you in Potions!”

“Goodnight, Sir.” She steps around his belly and into the corridor, surprised to see the Head Boy standing there. If she’s honest, she’d hoped everyone would be long gone by now so she could calm down properly. At least it’s not Hawthorne and Black.

“Hey, I just kind of wanted to properly introduce myself,” the Ravenclaw says, holding his hand out.

“Have we not met before?” she asks with a smile. We definitely have. Several times. Your name is Alfie. I literally have a meeting with you once a week. We’ve met.

He laughs, looking abashed, and shrugs with one shoulder. “I mean not as prefects and stuff. I’m Alfie.”

“Lily.” She takes his hand and shakes it because, despite the absurdity, it’s a sweet notion. “So, Not-Head-Boy-Alfie, what makes you different from Head-Boy-Alfie?”

“Well, I’ve got the courage to talk to you for one thing,” he says, falling into step beside her. Oh. Lily finds herself blushing.

“Am I that intimidating?”

Alfie’s eyes widen. “I mean, no, that’s not what I -um-“

“I’m teasing, don’t worry,” Lily smiles, nudging her shoulder into his in reassurance.

“Oh yeah, right,” he rubs the back of his neck, smiles. “You aren’t scary, just quite impressive. I don’t know anyone else who could have handled that back there so well.”

“You get used to it.” She brushes off the comment because she’s not in the mood to break down the events of the dinner with anyone, let alone him.

“You shouldn’t have to though.”

“If only everyone else thought the same,” she says softly. “Anyway, enough about me. You’re Head Boy. Surely that’s impressive too? I’m certain there’s quite a few people who find you intimidating.”

“But not you, it seems?”

“Nah, I’ve seen your civilian side now, you’re harmless.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Lily think he’s flirting. She also thinks she’s flirting back. But they’re reaching their parting point and she doesn’t have time to figure it out. “Well,” she starts as they stop at they reach the top of the stairs where she goes right and he goes left, “it was nice to meet you Not-Head-Boy-Alfie. I’ll see you at the next meeting?”

“I’ll be there in my Head Boy guise. We’ll see if I’ve got enough courage then to speak to you,” he says, grinning.

“I look forward to it.” She smiles and turns to walk away, twisting to look behind her for a moment. “Goodnight, Alfie.”

“Goodnight, Lily.” He gives her a half-wave and she grins before turning back and continuing down the corridor. A few of the portraits titter and she rolls her eyes. They certainly seem to think she was flirting. You’re allowed to flirt, she knows this, she just hasn’t flirted with anyone in a while, contrary to what her friends would say. Alfie is a pretty good person to start with. She considers him as she makes her way slowly back to the Gryffindor common room. He’s got nice, thick brown hair, neatly brushed, and lovely brown eyes. She’s heard some of the other prefects talking about his lips and his jaw, how soft and strong he looks at the same time. Daft. It’s daft, Evans.

There’s no way of knowing if he was flirting with her, even if she was flirting with him. So, she concludes as she reaches the portrait hole, it’s pointless to even consider it.

“Gadzooks.” The portrait hole swings open with thankfully minimal grumbling from The Fat Lady and Lily crawls through, hoping to find her friends still downstairs. Two out of the four Marauders are sat by the fire and she makes her way over to them once she’s determined her friends are nowhere to be seen.

“Alright, Evans?” Potter says when he catches sight of her approaching.

“Mhmm, I’m fine,” she says in lieu of any real sort of answer, dropping down on to the sofa next to Peter.

“Weren’t you just at Slug Club?” Peter asks.

“Yeah.”

“So why aren’t you with Pa-Black?”

“I mean, even if he had stayed for the meeting, Peter, I really don’t think we’d be coming back arm in arm.” She leans her head back on the sofa and sighs, hoping he doesn’t take her crispness too heart. It takes her a second, but then she processes what he just said. By the time her eyes flick open, Peter and Potter are already staring at her intently. “Has he not come back?”

“What do you mean ‘if he had stayed’?”

Lily sits up. “He left the dinner before I got there. Regulus was there, and Hawthorne. I think they had an argument or something. I don’t know, I only saw him in the corridor.” She doesn’t finish before Peter and Potter are standing up, Peter running upstairs to their dorm at one nod from Potter. “Potter, what’s wrong?”

“Complicated, Evans, really fucking complicated,” he says, foot tapping nervously on the floor. She stares at him, waiting for more. This isn’t like their chat in the Hospital Wing. He is wired - foot tapping, hand running through his hair, eyes flicking from the dorms’ entrance to her forehead. “How did he seem?”

“Angry. Upset. Potter, what’s wrong?”

“Evans, as much as I know you want to help, this isn’t somewhere you’re needed. I’ve got this.” He flashes a quick, mad grin which is gone too quickly to be real. A frenzied Peter appears at the bottom of the stairs, stopping Lily from protesting, an old bit of parchment in his hand and something bundled beneath his arm.

“The forest. He keeps tra-” Peter stops himself as he looks at Lily and she feels her frustration growing. “Let’s go.”

“Catch you later, Evans,” Potter’s already walking while he unfolds the parchment and they’re gone before she can blink, scrambling through the portrait hole.

“What the fuck,” she breathes, collapsing back into the sofa and staring at the ceiling. Then – Lily dives up before she can think it through and races to the portrait hole. She’s through in a flash but they’re already gone. She rushes to the end of the corridor but, they’re nowhere to be seen which doesn’t make any sense. They’d only had a ten second head start.