Chapter Text
Lily Evans's seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was fast approaching.
She had spent most of her morning on the twenty fifth of August sitting in her room, reviewing notes from last year—she would be, of course, continuing on with all her previous classes at NEWT level. But this year came with an extra dose of responsibility, something that arrived two weeks ago in the form of a red-and-gold badge along with her usual letter detailing the list of supplies she would need for the year.
Lily had nearly shrieked with excitement as the Head Girl badge rolled out of her letter, but contented herself instead with simply beaming as she presented it proudly to her parents. Petunia was, as usual, disapproving, but Lily hardly noticed. She knew that she would be chosen for Headship, Professor McGonagall had all but told her at the end of last term that she was a cert.
Flipping idly through Herbology notes (the contents of which she had already committed to memory), her thoughts turned to the mystery of the boy with whom she would be splitting her Head duties come next week. Her immediate thought upon receiving her badge was that it was likely to be Remus Lupin, the fellow Gryffindor Prefect from her year. The idea of sharing more space with Remus was not without appeal—the two years she had spent in close contact with him as a fellow Prefect assured her that he would not shirk his responsibilities, and she had grown to count him among her friends. Remus was really alright, thought Lily, especially considering his group of friends...
She jerked her wandering thoughts away from the Marauders as quickly as possible. Just because they did their level best to ruin every day she spent at school did not mean she had to allow memories of them to soil her summers as well.
Lily had half decided to owl Remus to ask him about the Headship when her mother called her down to breakfast. She dumped the notebook she had been perusing unceremoniously upon her desk and bounded downstairs, the smell of eggs and rashers making her stomach growl. As soon as she had taken her seat at the kitchen table, bid good morning to her parents, pointedly ignored Petunia and piled her plate with toast, an owl rapped smartly on the kitchen window and the whole Evans family turned to look at it. Lily's good mood evaporated at the sight of the owl.
"Whose is this one?" asked Mrs Evans. She had learnt the birds of Lily's friends by heart, and as her Hogwarts letter had already arrived, she would not have been expecting any unfamiliar owls again. Petunia scowled and pursed her lips, but gave no other acknowledgement that she was aware of what was transpiring, and returned at once to her gossip magazine. Lily, however, sighed and got up to let the owl in. She knew exactly to whom it belonged.
"This owl is Black's" she said, opening the latch and letting the Great Horned Owl into her kitchen. It blinked at her in a dignified way, stuck out its leg, and allowed her to remove a letter addressed untidily to "Evans."
She thanked the owl and gave him some water out of a saucer.
"Black? You mean the infamous Sirius Black?" Mrs Evans addressed Lily with raised eyebrows and a bit of a smirk.
Lily did not smile back. "I don't know what Black could possibly have to say to me that couldn't wait until next week. Heaven knows I see enough of him and his little friends during school. That toss— “
"Lily!"
"Sorry, mum" she said quickly, not sorry at all. She glanced down at the letter and decided not to open it until after breakfast. She set it in her lap and turned her attention back to her food.
Mr Evans surveyed his wife with an exaggerated look of puzzlement.
"Sirius Black...is that the good-looking fellow we saw last year at the station?"
Lily tried not to vomit into her breakfast.
"Not funny, dad."
Mrs Evans shook her head. "He’s very handsome dear, but I believe you're thinking of that lovely James Potter. Ever so polite, came over and introduced himself."
"That's right!" Mr Evans slapped his hand on the table and turned to Lily with a teasing smile.
Lily continued to stare at her food, not dignifying this line of conversation with a response, but she felt redness creep up her cheeks. She attempted to hide the blush behind her hair. Her parents seemed to think they had tortured her enough and resumed eating.
After she had finished, Lily excused herself to her room with her letter. She lay it, face up, on her desk, and attempted to study once more. She didn't want to seem too eager to see what Black had to say. In fact, part of her was considering throwing the letter in the bin in case he had decided to fill it with Bubotuber Pus or some other unpleasant substance as a joke. She wouldn't put anything past him.
But curiosity got the better of her. She put on gloves as a precaution and turned the letter over. What she saw made her stomach flip—in a nasty, unpleasant way, she assured herself.
A red and gold wax seal, stamped in the middle of the envelope, bearing the the letters JP.
This letter was from Potter, not Black. Black must have loaned Potter his owl. Lily slipped her gloves off--Potter was dreadful, as dreadful as Black in many ways, but he wouldn't dare jinx her. Feeling much safer, but even more curious, she opened the seal.
My dearest, darling Evans,
I look forward with longing to September the first; that glorious day in which you shall again bestow your beautiful visage upon my sight.
Lily snorted with laughter. She could see Potter scribbling on this parchment in her mind's eye, turning to Remus and asking "what's another word for face?" The letter continued:
It is with great joy that I promise you that our year together—our year together? What is he on? –will be filled with laughter and happiness.
I can't wait to be Heads with you.
From the depths of my soul,
James Potter
Lily stared at the letter for a moment, her brain unwilling to comprehend what she had just read. Heads together? Surely he couldn't mean...Lily turned the parchment over and wrote:
Ha ha Potter. Don't write to me again, I'm trying to enjoy my summer by imagining that you don't exist.
She brought the letter back downstairs and tied it to Black’s owl, who had finished resting. He took off into the clear summer sky.
Lily decided that, just to be sure that Potter was truly having a go at her, she would write Remus. She went back to her desk, took out a roll of parchment and wrote:
Dear Remus,
How’s everything? I'm sorry to bother you about this but I just received a rather silly letter from one of your mates. Potter has written me and told me in rather prosaic fashion that he's been made Head Boy. I know it's preposterous but I wondered if you could owl me back and assure me that he's just having a laugh and you really got the badge.
Lily
She tied this to her own owl, a rather smaller barn one called Tulip, and sent her to deliver the message to Remus.
She heard back from him very quickly—she had long ago surmised from their correspondence that he could not live far from her. His reply read:
Lily,
Summer's been nice, how about yours? Congrats on making Head Girl. I'm afraid I'm about to make things worse for you though; the Head Boy is indeed going to be James. Don't ask me why—I don't know, and neither does he. Looking forward to continuing on as a Prefect under you though. I'm torn about James--either he'll cut me an enormous amount of slack because we're mates, or he'll work me into the ground for the same reason.
Sincerely,
Remus
Lily read this through several times, hoping each time to notice a line saying something like "Only joking—I’m Heads with you of course" but to no avail. She sank onto her bed, still holding Remus' letter, allowing the words to permeate. She was going to be stuck splitting all her duties, for the whole year, with Potter...
Maybe there was a mistake. There had to have been. Professor Dumbledore was out of his mind if he purposely gave the Headship to Potter. Lily took out another roll of parchment and a quill and wrote, much neater this time:
Dear Professor McGonagall,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are enjoying your holiday. Firstly, I'd like to thank you for your recommendation to Professor Dumbledore. I received my Head Girl badge with my letter and am fully prepared to take on all the responsibility that comes with it. I look forward to serving the school and hope to make Gryffindor House and you proud.
There seems to have been a bit of a mix-up as far as the Head Boy is concerned. I have been in correspondence with Remus Lupin and he has informed me that James Potter received the Head Boy badge along with his letter this year. I wanted to make sure you knew about this so that it can be rectified before the start of term.
Yours Sincerely,
Lily Evans
Lily tied this letter to Tulip and sent her off again. She seemed to feel thoroughly important about having two deliveries so close together, and ruffled her feathers in an official sort of way before taking flight.
--
It was the next day before she heard back from Professor McGonagall. Tulip delivered the letter directly to her bedroom in the afternoon. Expecting thanks from her Head of House for spotting this egregious error, Lily ripped it open without the slightest bit of trepidation.
Miss Evans,
I have received your letter. Mr Potter was chosen by Professor Dumbledore as Head Boy. I trust that you shall be able to perform your duties alongside him without further complaint.
Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
This letter made her feel even worse than Remus's had. The decision was final, official. The excitement at being chosen for Head Girl was rapidly draining out of her and she found herself wishing she would just be carrying on as a Prefect, allowing Potter the pleasure of torturing somebody else day in and day out.
Lily decided that it was time to discuss these developments with the most sympathetic ear she could think of. So, with a shout downstairs of "Mum, I'm going to Alice's!" Lily closed her eyes, thought determinedly of Alice Wright’s house, and with a loud CRACK, she disappeared from her bedroom.
--
Lily appeared at the front step of Alice's home moments later, feeling dizzy and winded. Although she had passed her Apparation test with flying colours, traveling in that particular method still left her a bit nauseous. She knocked on Alice's front door, and saw a face poke out of what she knew to be Alice's bedroom window—but it was not Alice's. Marlene McKinnon grinned down at Lily once she saw who was there and said "Lily! Why didn't you just Apparate up here?"
Lily cocked her head. "Well, that would be rude, wouldn't it? What if Frank had been over?"
Marlene smirked. "Point taken. Be right down."
Marlene came down the stairs and opened the door. Her black hair, already long and curly, seemed to have grown several more inches in the few weeks it'd been since Lily last saw her. She beckoned Lily inside and then bounded back upstairs with the kind of quick grace Lily had come to associate with Seekers.
Alice was sitting on her bed surrounded by photographs. She was in the process, Lily knew, of selecting pictures from their sixth year for her album. Her round face brightened at the sight of Lily.
"Lily! How lovely of you to come by—and good timing too! Want to help me choose pictures?"
Lily sat down on the edge of Alice's bed and sighed dramatically. She was secretly glad that Marlene was here too--they were, combined, an excellent audience.
"Girls, I'm afraid my seventh year has already been ruined."
Marlene raised her eyebrows. Alice looked up from her pictures.
"Whatever is the matter?" she said, concern etched into all her features. This is exactly why Lily had come to Alice first.
"I have dreadful news."
"I have interesting news," Marlene added, but Lily shot her a look.
"Mine first."
Marlene made a face. "You'll want to hear this. It's going to be all over school, I'm sure, and you'll get to say you've heard it first."
Lily snorted. "You're never going to believe what I have to tell you."
"I promise you, I will. I bet I already know what it is."
Alice wasn't listening to the bickering. She had gone back to sorting photographs. "When you're ready to tell me what you've got to say, Lily, I'll listen. Until then I'll be doing this," she said, without looking up.
Lily exhaled loudly. "I've come to tell you that I've been given a sentence worse than Azkaban—being Heads with James Potter."
Alice looked up, her jaw slack with surprise. Marlene didn't react. She spoke before Alice could formulate a reply.
"I knew he'd been picked as Head Boy," she said casually.
Thoroughly annoyed that Marlene had ruined her dramatic pronouncement, Lily shot back at her.
"Who told you?"
Marlene smirked. "Sirius."
Lily snorted again. "Sirius, is he now? Since when is he Sirius and not Black?"
"Since we've been meeting up this summer." Marlene raised her eyebrows suggestively.
Lily forgot all about Potter for a moment. "You aren't."
"We are."
"No way."
"Oh yes."
"...how is it?"
Marlene's head fell back and she laughed loudly.
"He's alright," she said, but Lily could tell she was really pleased, and that, whatever she might think of Black, Marlene was thoroughly enjoying the time she was spending in his company.
"So is it like...are you two going steady now?" Lily asked her with some apprehension.
"Nah, it's nothing like that. Just a bit of fun."
Lily’s apprehension grew. Six years of rooming with Marlene had taught her one crucial thing—which was that Marlene rarely let on how strongly she felt about people, and that this might not end well.
Alice looked as uneasy as Lily felt, but they both knew better than to try and talk Marlene out of doing whatever she wanted. There was a bit of a pause before Lily remembered that she was there to complain about Potter. And complain about Potter they did, for several hours, they debated how Lily could best avoid him at all times, starting with how she could dart onto the train without his noticing and ending with how she could perhaps place a charm on him to keep him from ever contacting her again after they had graduated. Sitting there laughing together in Alice's room, Lily was suddenly hit with a pang—this would be the last summer they were students together, and she felt herself wishing the summer would never end.