Harry Potter 1. Regina

**Chapter One: Regina**

Her hair streamed out behind her as it tumbled in the wind, the air caressing her skin. Her eyes shut themselves, and she knew she was free…free to fly, free to dash away from everything. It was terribly cold, being up so high, but she was immune to that as if she donned a cape of eiderdown. She was the only one there, completely alone, only her. But she sensed the presence of another, and she realized that she wasn't alone and could never be. Someone or something was below her, giving her support and giving whatever it was that allowed her to soar so unburdened, so wild and untamed. She called, "Who are you?" and received silence in return. She moved her head, trying to see this shrouded source of liberty, but she slipped…and fell, the wind stinging her…someone was laughing at her…screaming cruel jibes at her…

"You idiot, quit it!"

She bolted upright, senses sharpening, but the dream remained in her mind. She had already experienced it nearly everyday for a month now, and every time she tried to find out who was helping her, the dream would end with her tumbling back to the ground. It was a source of annoyance to her, really, but it also provided a sort of journey for her seemingly purposeless life. Sometimes, when she thought the world had been stripped of its color, the dream and the sensation of being so liberated felt like the only reason she was living was to discover the mysterious being that was giving her such an escape. Before she could further muse about the details, however, she recognized the screeching voice as her sister's.

"Stop making all that noise! It's giving me a headache," came shouts from the room next door.

"Ugh…I'm not doing anything!" she moaned into her pillow, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Yes, you are! Now stop it!"

"I said I'm not doing anything! It's coming from downstairs!"

"Well, stop it!"

"Why can't _you_?"

"Because _I'm_ doing my homework!"

Lily Evans scowled as she threw herself off her bed and thundered out of her room, muttering indistinct insults at her older sister, Petunia. Leave it up to someone like her to disturb a peaceful afternoon siesta. Now that she was going to be in her second year of secondary school, Petunia could easily use the excuse of schoolwork to avoid doing virtually anything, including house chores and menial errands. Whether or not she was actually _doing_ the work was a topic worthy of investigation, so Lily thought. When the subject was brought to the dinner table, though, her parents waved it away. Thus, Lily was unfortunately relegated with the task of not only washing the dishes but also doing the laundry…and catering to her sister's every whim, which would include quieting whatever it was that was making a racket.

As she walked down the stairs, she heard the clamor disturbing her sister, her ears longing to seal themselves up to block out the din. Off in the distance, there was a banging sound. It must be the neighbors again, Lily thought, rolling her eyes, playing with their toys, which she considered very akin to metal trashcans.

She strolled into the kitchen and, taking one look out the window, nearly turned around and sprinted back up the stairs. A barn owl was furiously attacking the window (it was a wonder it hadn't cracked yet) while clasping something in its talons. Trembling as she reached for the telephone, Lily's mind frantically raced through all the phone numbers she could think of, trying to locate the local zoo's. Even as she remembered the fifth digit of the number, it occurred to her how incredibly stupid the words would sound. _Hello, sir, sorry to bother you, but there's an owl trying to break my window._ Lily chuckled wryly, knowing whoever picked up the phone would think her a freak, just like Petunia.

But then, she came up with a better idea.

"Wait here," she told the owl, who, miraculously, seemed to have understood her command and immediately ceased its tapping.

Soundlessly, Lily crept up the stairs and, upon arriving on the second floor, opened the closet door, which was next to Petunia's bedroom. It was here the Evans family deposited any unnecessary items. She was very well acquainted with its contents, having rummaged through it countless times before in search of supplies for her school projects. Also, it was quite an adventure unto itself, diving in and about the many treasures of the closet.

"Oh, here it is!" Lily exclaimed, dizzy with relief.

A few years ago, she had kept a canary for a pet. Its melodious voice and inquisitive manner had enraptured her the moment she laid her sight on it for the first time. After much whining and adamantly insisting she wouldn't leave the pet shop until it was hers, Lily's parents at last gave in, and their young daughter exited the shop, cage in hand, chirping away as merrily as her bird.

But the canary's life had expired too soon for Lily's liking, leaving its owner in tears. She had asked her mother to throw the cage away so she could be rid of the bitter memory of death, but whether that request was ever followed through, she had never checked. Then only a year ago, she had seen it, tucked away in the back. Having convinced herself it couldn't possibly be a birdcage, Lily went back to her business.

Still, she thought, it could still be there, the cage. To her knowledge, no one had touched it for a while.

"Oh, here it is!" Lily declared, suddenly realizing Petunia might have heard her.

After seeing no sign her sister had heard her victorious proclamation, Lily yanked on the cage, causing a few nearby objects to fall over, and tiptoed back down the kitchen, at last opening the window. The owl was still flapping its wings; it feathers ruffling impatiently.

"Now, listen to me," Lily commanded as she turned to meet the luminously golden orbs in front of her, "you're going to have to get in this cage. I'm sorry if it may be a tad small, but it's the best I've got. I don't know what you like to eat, but I'll get you some water. Then I'll take you upstairs, but you'll have to be extra quiet, okay?"

Feeling a little silly, she extended her arm cautiously, bracing herself for the vice-like grip of the owl's claws. It dropped the package before landing with unprecedented lightness, making Lily double back in amazement. She had been brought up believing owls were bloodthirsty nocturnal beasts that prayed on innocent creatures like squirrels and rabbits, yet this one defied her assumptions and radiated nothing but tenderness.

You're so…so royal, she thought. Like a queen, a queen that's kind to her people, but still so regal…

"Regina," she whispered in awe.

From the word, something was evoked, something Lily had wanted her entire life and lacked for that long as well. No one liked her at school. She was the shy little redhead who was always preoccupied with a history book of some sort. She was only desired for her ability to complete "group" projects single-handedly and nothing more. And as she savored the feeling of "Regina" echoing through her mind, the owl seemed to be talking to her. _My name might mean "queen," but we are equal. We are friends._

"So, Regina, you're going to be staying with me now, I guess. I don't know where you came from, but I hope that you'll be happy here, even though that's next to impossible with someone like Petunia living in the same house."

Regina hooted in agreement but gestured to the nearby cage, reminding Lily that the consequences wouldn't be too pleasant if her sister happened to meander downstairs in search of a snack. Guess I really am a freak, then, she thought, befriending owls and talking to them like I've known them forever. She moved her arm to the opened cage door and waited for Regina to climb in. Yet, for some reason, she was having a difficult time and was whimpering in what seemed like pain.

"What's the matter?" Lily inquired softly, absentmindedly stroking the owl's feathers.

She studied Regina slowly. There didn't seem to be any _visible_ problem with her; the feathers still gleamed in the late afternoon light. Her hand passed over the left wing…admiring the chestnut hue of her owl…she liked that phrase: _her_ owl…the right wing…

"Hmm, this is odd," she murmured, pulling her head back to view the wing.

It took more than a few moments to realize Regina was injured. _How did _that_ happen?_

"Who did this to you?" she demanded, absolutely horrified that anything this cruel could be performed on any creature, especially one as tender as this.

The owl only replied with a feeble hoot, informing Lily she hadn't anymore of an idea as to who it was.

"Well, I don't know how to fix you up, sorry, and I don't think the local veterinarian has ever treated an owl before. I suppose you'll just have to make due with a little bit of water. Maybe that'll help…"  
Snatching a bottle of water as well as the package Regina had brought, she lightly pushed her owl into the cage. Struggling a little to keep it all balanced, Lily managed to force herself up the stairs without making an excessive amount of clamor. Only when she had shut and lock the door did she dare to breathe regularly.

After pouring a copious amount of water in the cage's food tray, Lily busied herself with the odd piece of mail – she assumed it _was_ mail – Regina had been carrying. It was a box wrapped in plain brown paper and encircled by an emerald green ribbon. The ribbon was also tied around one more thing: a letter whose envelope seemed to be made of some thick parchment-like material. Intrigued, she slid it out of its ties and flipped it over.

"Wow…"

The wax seal felt cool under her fingers, the engraving so finely created. She never thought the letter H could be written so perfectly. The lifelike lion, eagle, badger, and snake stared up at her, beckoning Lily to just open it…

She broke it.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Evans,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress 

Lily nearly laughed. What was this? Some prank letter sent by Petunia so she could further ridicule me? And this…this _Hogwarts_. It sounds like a toddler's nonsense word. As for witchcraft, the only "witches" I have ever heard of are those that were hung in America, but that was centuries ago, and everyone knows they weren't witches.

"This is all poppycock," she huffed, crumpling the letter and aiming it at the nearby wastebasket. "Nice try, Petunia, but your joke wasn't funny. I'm a lot smarter than you think."

As she coiled her arm back to toss it in, a sudden shrieking startled Lily.

"Regina!" she scolded, trying unsuccessfully to pacify the owl that was flapping about the cage wildly. "You're not only going to hurt yourself even more – and trust me, I don't want that happening – but you're also going to annoy Petunia. She'll see you, and a mad Petunia is _not_ fun to deal with."

Feeling thoroughly petulant, Lily hurled the deformed letter into the trashcan. Rage had replaced the initial feeling of amusement. What is she playing at? she thought angrily. Thought I'd fall for it, did she? A pretty and pitiful owl and some cock-and-bull letter with a made-up school for wizards? I would think she'd know better, after torturing me for my entire bloody childhood with her –

"Regina! Will you quit it?"

But the owl would not stop. In fact, it was only possible for the volume of her tantrum to have escalated since watching Lily dispose of the letter.

"Oh," Lily mocked, her words a cracking whip cutting through the air, "you want me to throw the envelope away as well?"

She snatched it off the floor triumphantly, but something caught her attention.

_Not another letter?_

Scanning through it disbelievingly, Lily wondered what new artifice had just been introduced. A reappearing letter? Couldn't be. Why, it would take, well…it would take _magic_ for that to happen.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!

Blazing with a heated fury, she threw the new letter away…but there it was again…and again. No matter how frequently she tore and screamed at it, it badgered her to the point of tears of humiliation.

"What do you want from me?" she shouted, overcome with madness and shame that a supposedly simply sheet of parchment could have her so tortured, so tormented.

A soft call from the side attracted her blurry gaze. Though Lily's vision was somewhat obscured by her tears, she watched Regina urgently point her peak at the package.

"Should I open it?" she asked quietly, more to herself than to herself, as if needing affirmation.

Desperately, she ripped off the paper. Out of it tumbled the most beautiful book Lily had ever seen. Her hand quivered as it passed across the embossed velvet, colored with a deep and fiery scarlet. Her eyes widened significantly as the scintillating gold letters pierced through her sight, a brilliant sun shooing away the clouds of unhappiness.

_The Basic Muggle's Guide to Everything Wizarding (Updated Edition!)_

Oh, it's the wizards again, is it? She automatically moved to the trashcan, reconfirming her decision of never picking up a book that dealt with magic for the rest of her life, but cried out in shock as the book tumbled out of her hand, almost by its own accord, and opened to the very first page.

_To whom this book has been sent:_

_If you're a Wizard, be gone and spend your Galleons on other books. If you have received a letter stating you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and doubt its existence or feel very confused, guard this book with your life. It will explain _everything.

Lily still wanted to think this was still just a crazily complex hoax concocted by someone like Petunia (she could easily imagine her sister's eyes gleaming madly and bubbled over with hysterical evil). But her mind, the mind that had taken her on an infinite number of breathtaking adventures as a young girl, was conjuring the most magnificent images, images that she thought could only exist in an ideal world. There was Lily, freed from the shackles of her sister. There was Lily, finding tolerance and acceptance after so many years of believing such things were unattainable and utopian. And there was Lily, discovering a richly woven tapestry – what seemed like a fantasy but _her_ reality – beneath the bland veneer her life had been.

She _had_ to believe in this, and she _had_ to trust in hope. If this was the only way to a new beginning and a clean slate, she would undertake the journey, no matter how many mountains she had to climb and no matter how many rivers she had to cross.

Always the one to devour a book, Lily set off reading immediately. It proved to be an adequate guide, answering virtually all the questions she had harbored since receiving the letter. The introduction, too, was fascinating. Apparently, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school she might be going to, had commissioned this book to be written in order to introduce the Wizarding world to those who weren't familiar with it. Nevertheless, a Limiting Charm (that meant nothing to Lily) had been placed on the book so that only the most rudimentary details were revealed. It had never occurred to Lily that an entire society was operating unbeknownst to her…and that _she_ was part of it. Endless possibilities were opening up to her…but she had to concentrate on learning about her world first. There was a time for imagination and a time for learning, and in this occasion, it was the latter. There was no way she would be able to fit in a new world without knowing anything about it.

_People like Petunia, her parents, and everyone she knew were called Muggles, meaning they were dull and had no magical skills…Hogwarts really existed and was located somewhere up north…Students got there by way of a train…that was funny._ She thought that being wizards, they would have come up with a more creative way of going to school. Strange, really. The book seemed to be reading her mind and was ready to answer anything that was related to the Wizarding world. I guess it's magic at work, she thought.

A rapping on the door knocked her out of her reverie. _Oh, it's Petunia!_ Lily's head spun as she tried to grasp the situation. Her boringly conservative sister, opposed to anything out of the norm, was about to enter her room, undoubtedly the oddest room in the house with a book on wizardry and an owl. Eyes darting back and forth, she couldn't find anywhere to hide Regina…or even the book!

A click signified Petunia had picked the lock of the door.

She hastily shoved the book under the bed, as well as the letter, but there wasn't a single place to conceal the owl. Well, Lily thought, feeling a bit diabolical, _she's_ going to be in for some surprise…

"Lily, I thought I told you to shut up that noise and now I'm hearing it from _your_ room – OH MY GOD! WHAT IS THAT?"

Petunia's face blanched, but her eyes glittered as if she had seen her sister commit a serious infraction against the sacred and holy house rules.

"It's an owl," Lily said, amazed at the poise her voice carried.

"And what are you doing with one?"

"It's my pet. Is that against the rules now?" Lily snorted. Even her parents probably wouldn't approve of such a pet. What a stupid thing to say, she berated herself. However, the knowledge that she would soon be whisked away by a train to an entirely Petunia-free world made her feel more reckless than she would have liked. "Well, is it?" she challenged, although aware that picking a fight with her older sister wasn't always the wisest decision.

"Nothing," Petunia muttered glumly, heading back to her own room and looking as though an opportunity had been lost.

But that glint in her eye remained. It frightened Lily.


	2. Broken Window

**Chapter Two: Broken Window**

Lily tried to continue plowing through her book, but the image of Petunia relaying what she had seen – the owl, the book, her _weirdness_ in general – to her parents remained burned in her mind. What would they say? She knew her parents were, when compared to their oldest daughter, very open-minded, but she innately knew that telling them when they came home, "Oh, mum, I'm a witch and I'll be going off to a school for weird people like me, is that okay?" just wouldn't seem…right, regardless of however tolerant they were.

The door slammed downstairs and voices filtered up to Lily, filling her with unusual dread. She was, under normal circumstances, the first one downstairs to greet them, a daughter genuinely pleased to see her parents. Today, however, the opening of the front door only brought further strain on her already-strained nerves. John and Prudence Evans both worked as teachers at the elementary school their children had passed through, which was possibly the main cause for Lily's lack of friends. Petunia, though deemed inferior in appearance and brains, was an invaluable tool for the school society elite due to her uncanny memory of gossip. People, however, thought Lily only managed good grades because of her parents' influences, and they thoroughly despised those kinds of students.

"That boy, I can't stand him!" Mrs. Evans complained, throwing what seemed like a thick stack of papers on the countertop.

"Look, Prudence, just calm down. He can be transferred to another class, I assure you that's possible. I've done it before – "

Lily chuckled; her mum was always griping about one student or another in a somewhat hysteric fashion, and on days when her mother was semi-quiet, Lily felt something was amiss. Her dad was the rational person in the family, the levelheaded one, usually dealing with the most troubling conflicts and attempting to pacify her mum. Guess they were made just right for each other, she thought. Well, I'd better tell them what happened before Petunia gets to twist the story into some huge tale about me keeping a dragon as a pet –

As she raised herself onto her feet, prepared for the worst, a thumping sound on the stairs sent her into shock. _No! Petunia's going to get there first, and that just can't happen!_

"Get out of the way!" Lily snarled, charging into her sister and sending them both tumbling down the stairs, landing in a heap in front of their parents.

"What are you doing, you moron?" Petunia screamed back at nearly the same volume. "Trying to kill me?" Rolling her eyes in perfect disdain, she rearranged her disheveled hair and faced Mrs. Evans with an impeccably angelic smile. "Mum, Lily would like to tell you something."

She sent a nasty look in her sister's way, but Lily tried to remain as unflappable as was possible with an aching elbow.

"I, um, I got this letter today. I'll go get it if you'd like."

"No, just explain," sighed Mrs. Evans, running her hand through her hair. "Sorry, dear, but I'm quite tired today."

"Well, I won't be able to go to secondary school anymore," she said, feeling defensive. "I'm…I'm going to another school. I've been accepted already, see, that's what the letter's about. I've been accepted to – " She took a deep breath, bracing for the reaction " – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she quickly recited, as if she could slip those words past her parents.

Never had the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer seemed so deafening or the birds' twittering so ear splitting as Lily waited for her mum to lash out, "I never should have had you! You were a mistake, you freak!" or her Petunia, towering over her, a satisfied grin growing on her gaunt face, for _something_…

But Mrs. Evans' face showed only a slight surprise and joy, mixed in with…apprehension? No, wrong word. What was it? Certainly it was something Lily had never seen on her mother's face, almost a fear, a foreboding, but defiance as well, full of the fiery passion that had been passed from mother to daughter.

"Why, that's wonderful," Mrs. Evans remarked in the fashion of one discussing the weather, but that strange look stayed upon her face.

No, this isn't right, Lily thought. She's treating this like she was…like she already knew this was going to happen. And Dad – he looks just like Mum. This isn't right! Well, I wasn't really expecting anything, come to think of it, but I thought she would look surprised or angry – I almost _want_ her to look angry – but not like this! Oh, _definitely_ not like this!

"So, do you want me to get the letter?" Lily repeated, praying to be given a moment to sort this all out.

"We'd like to read it, yes," Mr. Evans said.

It took more than a few minutes to deliver the letter. Upon reaching the safe parameters of her room, Lily threw herself onto her unmade bed, pounding the pillow and the bedcovers, confused at her own behavior. There was nothing to be upset over. Her parents had taken the matter very well indeed, better than what she had been hoping, and even Petunia had limited her scorn…then why this sudden change in demeanor? But no, mood swing or not, she had to get a hold of herself and present the letter with a straight face.

Her parents took a liberal amount of time consuming it, and Lily swore they must have been trying to find the etymological history to each word. She began tapping her foot absentmindedly, and it was that sound that seemed to have knocked them out of their reverie. Petunia was standing by, looking equally bored and thinking that her parents should be working themselves into a pleasurable rage at her sister instead of pouring over that stupid letter.

"So?" Lily asked impatiently, unable to restrain her temper and devouring curiosity.

"Could we talk to you over in the living room?" Mrs. Evans asked, her face pale but set. "And, Petunia, could you take your lovely self elsewhere, preferably back upstairs in your room?"

Very put out, Petunia trudged up the stairs, still rubbing her throbbing arm. Missing out on more gossip about your freak sister really sucks, Lily thought nastily. She did as she was told and followed her parents into the familiar living room. As the name implied, it was there the Evans spent most of their time as a family, sharing amusing anecdotes from the past day. But to Lily, the room seemed rigid and distant, shunning her away from what was once full of warmth and ease. No, she cried out silently, not you too! I don't want to be a stranger anymore, not in my own home! She shrank into the sagging couch and waited.

"Before we begin," Mr. Evans said in a business-like fashion after cautiously closing the door, "I just want you to remember this: We _are_ going to let you go to Hogwarts, if that's what you want."

"But," Mrs. Evans continued, "there are some things you need to be aware of. Just listen, okay?" Her face contorted with pain and torment as she reached for her daughter's hand, smoothing it tenderly. "I've noticed that, well, you haven't exactly been accepted at school. I don't want to make you feel bad, but I need to make that point clear. And Petunia? I know it always seemed we treated your little fights as a joke…in that sibling rivalry sort of sense, but I'm scared that maybe they've had more of an impact on you than we would've liked."

"Little fights"? Mum, Lily thought sadly, cringing as she thought of her past, you have no idea. You've never seen the water guns she and her friends bought with the allowance _you_ gave her, the ones that they used on _me_. It was years ago. I can't even remember clearly, but you weren't there, Dad wasn't there, and they pushed me against the wall outside in the garden. They soaked me until I was sopping wet, and it didn't hurt, really. Just humiliated me completely. They told me not to tell anyone or more would come. I was scared…of them, of Petunia, and of you. I didn't know what you would say. I never told you. I never told you about people throwing little stones at me during break or taking my books, making me chase them to get them back. I never told you. I guess this is what they mean by "ignorance is bliss," huh, Mum?

Lily kept her face impassive as such thoughts scrolled through her mind.

"And you've never really told us everything that has been going on. I knew that having children would be like living with a secret. It's right there in front of you, but you'll never know it. With Petunia, it usually wasn't that way. She probably told me more than I would've liked, but with you, you never talked all that much as a child. When you were young, I can remember you would just sit there, without a word, staring out the window.

"We also think that you might find it easier to fit in at a place like Hogwarts. Lily, you're a brilliant child, and – " Mrs. Evans paused, her eyes welling up with newly formed tears. "Well, you're too good for this family and for this world. You were made for something better than this…and your dad and I are ready to do anything for you."

Oh, it's _this_ speech again, the whole I'd-be-willing-to-do-absolutely-bloody-_anything_-because-we're-pretending-to-love-you-more lecture, Lily thought, disgruntled and yearning to throw something at her parents. Yet in spite of this, she felt some of the glumness that had settled over her shoulders like a heavy shroud lift, if only just a tad. Her mum was treating her with the maturity that was usually reserved for the more poised Petunia, and the seriousness, as much as it was intimidating, gave Lily a rare sense of worth.

"However," Mr. Evans broke in, "there is something you need to remember. Hogwarts might seem like some sort of paradise to you, but there will _always_ be people who won't like you for some reason, okay? Just keep that in mind."

She nodded, not revealing her confusion. That's something I never thought my parents would remind me of, Lily thought. But I guess they're right. I'll have to keep my expectations low then.

"Um, okay," she said, feeling very uncomfortable. "So, um, d'you want to mail the letter out?"

"Sure," Mrs. Evans said, shattering the tense atmosphere, "but one more thing." Lily froze. _No more lecturing!_ "What exactly do they mean by they're awaiting 'your owl'? Have you got an owl?"

"Yeah. She was the one who dropped the letter off, and she didn't leave, so I guess she's mine. I named her Regina. You wouldn't mind if I kept her as a pet, would you?"

"That's fine, but you didn't answer the first question. Why are they awaiting this Regina?" Mr. Evans repeated.

She thought she had read something in the guide on owls. I think they're used for sending mail, she remembered.

"They want me to send her to Hogwarts to tell them I'm coming. You know, like an R.S.V.P.? I don't know. I'll, er, go get her then."

Lily strode over to the door, her tiny frame shaking with unspoken relief. That's it, then. I'm going to Hogwarts! Sporting a grin, she yanked the door open, only to be knocked back into the living room by a heavy…well, she didn't know what it was. Her thoughts abruptly switched to the dream, the vision of falling from an infinite height…

"What are you doing here, Petunia?" Mrs. Evans scolded.

"Getting my book," she mumbled, blushing a furious crimson.

"The only book in this room is Lily's French Revolution book," Mrs. Evans said, her tone flat but bubbling with anger. "I didn't know you were interested in it."

"How long were you standing there?" Mr. Evans yelled.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear!"

"Yes, you were – "

"I WAS _NOT_, DAMMIT!"

"Petunia!" Mrs. Evans screamed, her words cracking through the air and demanding silence. "I will not tolerate that sort of language in this household, understand?"

"But Mum," she whined, "I _wasn't_!"

As the screaming grew louder, Lily smirked in evil delight. She knew it was wrong to be feeling so satisfied, especially with her sister finally getting what she deserved (a nice _long_ shouting session), but victory had never tasted so sweet. She couldn't help it…she had to say _something_…

"You know you're just jealous," she hissed superciliously.

A threatening quiet fell over the family, a sudden contrast with the calamity that had been occurring only moments before, but for only a second, Lily thought the din was entirely preferable to a strained and breaking peace.

"Jealous, am I?" Petunia mocked. "Why should _I_ be jealous of someone like _you_? I know you're being sent to some freak school so you can feel like you're all perfect and that everyone loves you. But you know what? _No one_ loves you. No one could ever love something like you, you spoiled brat. That's all you'll ever be, this stupid little girl who thinks everyone's just _dying _to meet and know you – "

"That's quite enough!" Mr. Evans scoffed. "Your mum and I didn't raise you to act this way to your sister!"

"No, Dad, it's okay," Lily said softly. "Just let her say whatever she wants to." Her piercing green eyes landed on Petunia's face, on the face of a sister she had tried to desperately to love and to think of as an idol. But the illusion of a warm and caring sibling melted away, and she was only looking at the startling complexion of an utter stranger, a stranger with whom she had lived her entire life under the same roof but never knew, never knew. Her sister's pale face tightened, but she said not a word. Speak, Lily commanded wordlessly. What insults do you have for me today? Still, nothing had escaped Petunia's talkative mouth.

Lily allowed her eyes to bore further into those of her sister's. Come on, if you really think you're that great, you'll look back and stare at me, just as I'm staring at you. But Petunia's head dropped, her eyes darting away. Seeing her intent accomplished, she turned to her parents, steel-eyed. "I'll be right back," she spoke clearly, and then dashed out of the room.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU BITCH!" Petunia screeched, chasing and clawing at her sister.

Lily scurried away, her eyes shut in fear, feeling that momentary triumph evaporate, knowing she would pay dearly for that minute of superiority. She hoped her legs would somehow acquire a few inches so she could outrun her taller, leaner sister. To Regina, she thought hysterically. Just get to Regina and then she will save you. She saved you from this world, so she can save you from Petunia. She flew into her room, ruffling the nearby curtains. She knew with instinct not to waste any time with the door because her sister could easily force it open, especially when charged as she was then.

"Regina, save me," she sobbed, throwing her body over the cage.

You can kill me, Petunia. Go ahead. Try it. Murder's fun, isn't it? Kill me, but you aren't going to without my owl beside me. Come on, you know you want to. You know that this is all you've wanted your _whole_ worthless life: to see your sister's blood all over your hands. Come on, then.

"I'LL KILL YOU AND YOUR BLOODY OWL!" she shrieked as she launched herself at her cowering sister.

But Lily looked at her, eyes swimming and brimming with unshed tears, the two green pinpricks of pure and virginal innocence. Her face was composed; it reflected no fear, only a horrible resolve and determination. We will die together, Regina, and we will fly away together –

"WHAT'S _HAPPENING _TO ME?" Petunia screeched, unexpectedly halting and looking sickened.

Lily looked on in amazement. Her sister had somehow grown wings…just like…just like that person in her dreams…but there was a beak too. She looked to Regina, startled, but the owl looked like she was enjoying herself greatly. Turning back to her sister, Lily could hardly tell Petunia was a human. Except for the fact the owl-human was maybe twelve times larger than Regina, she thought Petunia could've passed for a pretty decent bird.

Lily, she berated herself, don't have those thoughts! She tried to keep a straight face, but the mischief in her was surfacing…oh, why did common sense have to flee _now_? Her gaze settled on the descending sun, the subtle hues of the evening and twilight, so tranquil, so inspiring. And what a horrible shame it was that it would soon be ruined.

She whipped her head around, glaring at Petunia. Every fiber of her being was focused on one thought: Out the window, you. Come on, fly out the window…

Lily shut her eyes as she heard the window shatter in a crystalline explosion, shreds of glass littering the floor, and an accompanying, "AHH!" After hearing a sort of muffled clump and a shocking stream of curses she didn't even know existed, Lily felt very bad indeed for her mother's garden but spared no sympathy for her sister.

Alarmed at the crash, Mr. and Mrs. Evans trundled up the steps and burst into Lily's room. Before they could say a word, their daughter was on her feet.

"Mum, there was a little – " Lily paused. What could she call it? Certainly it wasn't her fault Petunia had been rendered into a bird, and although she had willed for her sister to be thrown out the window, she never physically picked Petunia up and tossed her outside " – accident," she finished firmly. "She sort of fell out there." Lily vaguely gestured to where the window once was.

"Petunia?" her mum yelled, sticking her head out of the window.

"SHE PUSHED ME OUT OF THE WINDOW – "

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Lily screamed back, but her dad beckoned her to stay silent.

"Prudence?" Mr. Evans said. "I'll go and take care of Petunia. You and Lily sort out whatever needs to be done, okay?"

As he hurried back down the stairs to answer Petunia's wailing, Mrs. Evans faced Lily and gestured to the owl.

"So, this is Regina?"

"Yeah."

Lily reached for a sheet of paper on her desk and began to compose a letter to Hogwarts.

_To whom it may concern,_

_My name is Lily Evans and I have received your letter about Hogwarts. The owl that delivered it didn't want to leave my house, so is it okay if I keep her? And, yes, I can go to Hogwarts since that's what the letter's about._

Lily 

After hearing her mum say it was okay, she placed it in an envelope and sealed it. However, it felt more like she was sealing herself off from the Muggle world.

"Regina," she commanded, "I'll need you to take this to Hogwarts for me, okay? You do know the way there, right?"

The owl hooted brightly and took flight, stretching her wings luxuriously (though the right wing didn't seem capable of being extended all the way) and dashing off into the sky. Come back soon! Lily thought.

Meanwhile, Petunia was still in the bush, shrieking in agony as her dad, without luck, tried to calm her.


	3. Many Meetings

**Chapter Three: Many Meetings**

Bit she wasn't falling anymore, because she knew whom that someone was, the person feeding her sustenance. Through the mist of early morning, she could see the jovial face of her darling Regina…

As she lay in her bed reading lazily, Lily thought she had never seen a brighter sunrise nor the dew more luminous as it dripped off of the trees. The excitement of knowing she would be gone from this boring life in a little over the month had kept her up most of the night, and while she had only received a few meager and restless hours of sleep, life coursed through her veins, filling her with a sense of adventure and inquisitiveness. Regina had yet to return, but even without her new best friend, Lily was satisfied with just herself.

When reading first-hand accounts of Napoleon began to drag, she reached for the Hogwarts letter lying by her bedside and looked at it with fondness. She thought she could never tire of seeing the words "you have been accepted" being associated with her name. And did wizards really write on _parchment_? Lily had never seen the archaic paper until yesterday. She ran her fingers across the letter, its texture especially soothing to the touch. Giggling, she snatched the sheet out of the envelope and smothered it with kisses, falling back on her pillow, overcome with happiness.

Swallowing the laughter, Lily noticed another sheet folded in the envelope. It might be an extension of the letter, she thought. However, it turned out to be a list of supplies.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry nametags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshhawk

_A History of Purebloods _by Karena Fidellalessa

_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Lily! Time for breakfast!" Not bothering to change, she flew down the stairs with the list still clutched in her hand. "Lily," Mr. Evans said with a touch of impatience, "it would be so much better if you could get dressed before eating."

"But Dad," she whined, "it's breakfast and early in the morning. And, anyway, I'm already downstairs. Are you really going to send me back upstairs just to put on a pair of jeans?"

She made an adorable puppy-face, making her parents smile.

"Okay, okay," Mrs. Evans said, giving in, "just this once."

"And where's Petunia anyway?" she asked absentmindedly.

Lily saw her parents exchange glances before answering _that_ question.

"She's a little…embarrassed," Mr. Evans finally stuttered. "It seems that…whatever happened to her won't go away, and she doesn't want to make herself the laughingstock of the family by eating breakfast looking like – Lily, what did you turn her into?"

"Dad, I didn't _purposely_ turn her into anything. It just happened, but I think she looks like a big fat bird."

The kitchen filled with merry chuckling. Having worked as a waitress once, Prudence Evans served the eggs with unmatchable grace. Their delicate scents wafted up to Lily's nose, and she immediately engaged in attacking the nearest one with her fork. The Evans family soon followed suit. So amidst the clanking of silverware, she brought up Hogwarts once again.

"Mum? Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I was looking at my letter again, and there's a supply list." Lily handed the folded paper to her mum. "I, uh, don't exactly know where we're supposed to get all this stuff. D'you know at all?"

"I think some place called Diagon Alley," Mrs. Evans replied, but her face soon turned a sheet white as she dropped the fork and her hand went flying over her mouth.

Lily wasn't expecting an answer. She just asked, "D'you know?" because that's what she did. Rhetorical questions never really hurt, did they? But now she stared at her mum, completely astounded. _How does she know? Is mum in contact with magical people? _As far as her she knew, though, Mrs. Evans was Muggle through and through, although she did carry a certain spark. The spark wasn't what you called real Wizarding magic, but more like a charm that entranced all who came near. Still, the fact that her mother had knowledge of the Wizarding world without having to hear Lily talk about it –

"D'you know where it is?" inquired Lily, hiding her shock.

"_That _I don't," Mrs. Evans said firmly, pale but sounding as if nothing had happened.

"I can find out." A few minutes later and after she had changed, Lily sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through _The Basic Muggle's Guide to Everything Wizarding_. Diagon Alley…Diagon Alley…where are you? she thought. There's "What is Diagon Alley?" and "Why Diagon Alley?"…here!

Lily read: _Despite there being other Wizarding shopping areas throughout Britain, none are as well located as Diagon Alley. For Muggle-borns, the easiest way to enter it is through The Leaky Cauldron, a pub located at 95 Charing Cross Road in downtown London._

The guide also had a few things to say about shopping: _The Wizarding world uses a dramatically different currency from that of Muggles, and your pounds won't buy you a beetle eye, let alone a state-of-the-art broomstick. It is advised to bring a decent amount of Muggle money to exchange at Gringotts, the Wizarding bank. The Wizarding world uses Galleons (gold coins, worth the most), Sickles (silver coins, seventeen of them equal one Galleon), and Knuts (bronze coins, worth the least, and twenty-nine of them equal one Sickle). Diagon Alley is a long and winding street, and while you almost certainly won't get lost, the amount of people on the road can sometimes make finding specific shops a weighty challenge. Last year, the Ministry of Magic_ – I remember what that is, Lily thought – _passed a bill allowing maps to be constructed along the path. These should aid you in finding your way around. A list of stores that you should spend some time in follows – _

She shut the book, throwing it to the ground. So, that's all I need to do, she thought. Get out the money I've saved and tell mum I need to go to London.

Sounds simple enough.

Half an hour later, though, Lily was crammed in the backseat of a car, shooting dirty looks at her parents and…Petunia. She had been imagining the perfect shopping experience, bags upon bags slung over her shoulders, a sweater tied around her neck, heels clicking across the cobbled alley, and everyone staring in wonder –

Lily stared at her dirty sneakers and was suddenly aware the jeans she donned hadn't been washed for a week. So much for being a sexy and rich European beauty.

"Lily, stop twitching!" Petunia hissed.

She rolled her eyes. Always count on her sister to ruin everything. Just as Mr. Evans had mentioned they were going to London, Petunia immediately bounded out of her room (where she had locked herself for the entire morning), covered in a sheet ("She doesn't anyone want to see her _condition_," Mrs. Evans whispered), announcing that she felt "perfectly well" and wanted to go shopping too.

"Mum, she'll ruin everything!" Lily complained as she was walking out to the car.

"Now, everything will be okay. You're going to Diagon Alley and we'll take her to Harrods or wherever Petunia would like to go. She won't interfere with your shopping, okay?"

Despite this, she was still grumbling. Smug with her victory over Lily, Petunia had taken off the sheet. Most of the feathers, at least the ones that were visible, and the beak had miraculously disappeared, although she still had a lingering owlish smell.

"Do you have your money?" Having reached The Leaky Cauldron – or at least where Lily said it was ("There is no pub!" Petunia taunted) – Mr. Evans was running through the checklist once more. "And you have bandages in case you fall? And – "

"Dad, I know what I'm doing," she assured him.

"Be careful, Lily! And remember, we'll be waiting right here to pick you up at four, okay?"

"Yes, Mum, I will…I promise." She was getting awfully tired of her overly protective parents. I'm eleven, aren't I? I can do this myself, she thought. "Love you!" she called back.

Yet as the car zoomed away, she suddenly felt alone and unsure. London in its entirety swept over her, its dizzying buildings and skyscrapers taller than what she had ever imagined, and she no longer did she feel her heart beating with temerity. The reigns were in someone else's hands now, and she was being led and swept along by the currents of city life, one of endless exhilaration and high spirits.

But contrasting the modern surroundings was The Leaky Cauldron. Lily thought she had never seen such a dilapidated building, and in the middle of London at that! If this is what the entrance to Diagon Alley looked like, she shuddered to think what sort of conditions the shops were in. Nevertheless, she pushed the door open, acting entirely nonplussed.

Lily had to clench her eyes shut to prevent herself from screaming. Those…what were they _wearing_? And why were they looking at _her_? Oh, did she really look that eccentric in her "normal" clothing? It is normal, isn't it? Just calm down, calm down, she thought. I'll just tell them I accidentally walked in here…I was looking for the, um, bookstore.

"Young lady!" the bartender called from the other side of the shop. "What are you doing here?"

Say something!

"I'm looking for Diagon Alley," she sputtered, conscious of how foolish she sounded. "Is – is this the right place?"

"Ah, going to Hogwarts?"

Her tense self relaxed, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, she could breathe again. All of these people, she thought, why, they're just like me! They're…wizards too. And they're probably just as weird as I am, if not more.

"Yes. I read in a book that the entrance to the alley is through this pub."

Laughter filled the bar.

"You're a clever one, aren't you?" a women nearby said, drinking something Lily tried to ignore.

For such a place in disrepair, the pub seemed extremely popular. Dingy it was, but it was densely packed and no one seemed to acknowledge or even realize how filthy the place was. The cheery voices lifted her mood, even though she felt extremely out of place.

"Could you show me where to go?" she asked, feeling a little braver.

"Just follow me," the bartender said, placing the glass he was polishing down on the bar. "By the way, my name's Tom, and if you need me again, you know where to find me."

Lily willed to move her legs forward, and they took her out the back door of the pub and into what appeared to be a deserted garden. Two overflowing trashcans lounged in the corner, their pungent scents making her cringe. Enclosing it were brick walls on either side. She didn't see how this could possibly lead to Diagon Alley, but Tom took out his wand – that's what she assumed it was – and tapped the bricks on one of the walls in a peculiar fashion.

"Now," he whispered. "Watch this. Bet they don't have anything like _this_ in the Muggle world." Squinting her eyes to see if anything subtle had occurred, Lily was stunned to see the bricks…_moving_? They wriggled a bit at first, but then parted to the side, revealing –

"Diagon Alley," Tom proclaimed, a contented look drifting onto his face. "Always makes me happy looking at it. Anyway, if you've got problems with anything, just come back this way and I'll help you out."

He reentered the pub as Lily stared on, flabbergasted, eyes gleaming with surprise and euphoria. So I'm not the only freak in the world, she thought ironically, knowing how Petunia would react if she saw so many cloaked wizards in one place. Diagon Alley itself winded and curved, undulating as it went. Shops lined either side, and the noise emanating from the crowd was extraordinary. She caught odd snippets of conversation ("Mum, I've run out of unicorn hairs!" "Can't you just get me the Comet? I don't _really_ need the Silver Arrow!"), and although she was at the top of her English class, half of what she heard was incomprehensible. And to enter this staggering and alive world…all she had to do was just walk through the archway…put one foot through then the other…

Not looking back, she Lily took a step forward.

But she was immediately pushed along the street by the massive throng of grumpy adults and dancing children. Struggling to even find air, she fought her way to the side of the street, bending over and panting, wiping the thin layer of sweat that had begun to develop on her forehead. Suddenly, her knees gave way, and she found herself rolling on the sidewalk, retching. A foul smell had reached her and it overpowered her tender nostrils. As she sensed a blackness encasing her in unconsciousness, someone's footsteps approached her.

"Are you okay?"

It was a woman's voice, and it sounded like she wasn't any older than Mrs. Evans.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lily croaked, grimacing and pulling herself onto her feet with the aid of the stranger.

"Here, let me clean you up." She pulled out a wand from her purse and pointed it straight at Lily. "_Scourgify_!" Her soiled T-shirt was magically clean again, and she watched on in curiosity as the pile of vomit disappeared with a single wave of the wand. She knew it at once.

_Magic_.

"Thanks," Lily said, blushing. "My name is Lily."

"Going to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, my first year."

"Our son Remus is going as well," she answered happily, motioning for a dejected-looking boy to come. "We're very lucky to have been able to send him there…due to certain circumstances. The headmaster is really very nice, doing what he did for us."

"Mm, yes," Lily replied, not paying much attention to the woman but looking at her son, who was now standing by his mother.

Remus, it seemed, was a bit on the slim side, and only a little taller than herself. His thin light brown hair reflected the late morning light, and she thought he would look more his age had those dark creases not been under his eyes, which were cast down politely. With them, he looked positively wraith-like.

"Remus, say hi to Lily," her mother said sternly.

"Hey," he replied shyly, looking down at his feet. "I'm Remus, Remus Lupin."

"I'm Lily, Lily Evans."

She held out her hand as a customary introductory gesture, but Remus seemed to have doubled back before, and he seemed caught unaware. What, she thought, confused, is there anything wrong with my name? Evans…I've been told it's pretty common sounding.

"It's, uh, nice to meet you," he eventually said, shaking her hand and then pulling his hand behind his back, looking at the nearby shops with a feigned interest.

Trying to brush away his odd actions, she asked him, "Have you done your shopping yet?"

"No, we just got here – "

"That's great then," Mrs. Lupin interrupted briskly, pulling out a heavy bag (Lily suspected it was full of money) and handing it to Remus. "You and Lily can go shopping together. I'll be waiting at Fortescue's for you two, okay?"

It took an exchanged glance between the two students before either of them could say yes. Mrs. Lupin hurried off, and an awkward peace remained between Lily and Remus.

"So, where do you want to go first?" she asked quietly. He mumbled something in return, but Lily didn't exactly catch his answer. "Pardon?"

"I said that you can go anywhere you want to first. I'll just follow you," he croaked hoarsely.

Ugh, why did I have to be stuck with someone like him? He doesn't look like he could say anything for himself.

"Look," Lily snarled, her shortcomings getting the better of her tongue, "no one made you come with me. I'm sure your mum wouldn't mind if you joined her at Forte…whatever it is!" Head held high, she stomped off, joining the swarm of shoppers. It wasn't long, though, before her conscience caught up with her. How could I have been so mean to him? He…maybe he needs someone to help him. He doesn't look too happy. Overcome with shame, Lily ran back to him. "Oh, I didn't mean it!" she moaned. "I was just…I don't know…I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, it's easy to say things like that to me, isn't it?" he snapped, showing the first bit of true emotion, albeit negative, since their meeting.

"God, I seriously didn't mean that! Honestly, I didn't! I just sometimes get critical of other people – "

"No harm done," Remus breathed, hands in his pockets. "None at all, okay? Forget this ever happened."

She stood back, perplexed. Could someone really just disregard something like that? Lily knew she'd never be able to hold such composure and poise. Although people said the greatest gift you can give is mercy to those who deserve punishment, she could envision herself brewing herself a storm if someone had ever said such words to her. No, Remus must be joking. No one could treat such a thing so lightly.

"Stop playing with me," she pouted. "I'm really _really_ sorry."

"I know that!" he laughed, the happiness making him look less fraught and troubled. "You've told me already, and many times too! So, where was it you were headed to?"

Lily pulled out her supply list and showed it to Remus.

"Well, I've got to get all of this, but I don't have any Wizarding money."

"Wow, you've got Muggle money!" he exclaimed, but lost his cheeriness at once. "Oops, I shouldn't have said that."

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"I don't…" he said, stumbling over his words, "I don't want you to…oh, never mind. So, you're going to Gringotts?"

"That _is _the bank, right? D'you know the way there without having to look at those maps? They do seem awfully confusing."

"Yeah. My parents have taken me there a few times. Let's go."

Experienced with handling crowds, he led Lily in and out of everyone, deftly avoiding wand points and swinging shopping bags. She was awed at the dexterity this boy possessed, and by the time they reached the bank's marble exterior, she had managed to get smacked on the side of the head only once.

"Muggle banks definitely aren't as pretty as this one," Lily sighed, surveying the remarkable structure.

"There are a lot of them, though, right? Muggle banks?"

"Three of them in my town alone, and where I live is pretty small."

"Well," Remus explained, "this is the only bank we've got, so I guess we need to make up for it."

Lily suppressed a nasty little grin.

"Yeah, I suppose so. Shall we go inside?"

Gringotts' interior was just as noteworthy and marble-covered as the external. High desks were propped up in two straight rows on either side, and sitting at them were –

"Goblins," Remus whispered. "Never get on their bad side, I can tell you that. And keep your voice down. They don't like loud noises." She kept that in mind as she thought about what an angry goblin might look like. Ever the kind one, he guided her to a nearby desk. A plague hung on it that read, "New Account Applicants." "Lily," he urged, "ask him for one!"

"A _what_?" she spat back, keeping her tone quiet.

"An account!"

"Right!" Feeling a bit queasy, she turned to the rather strict-looking goblin that was busy scribbling something on a sheet of parchment and cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me, sir?" It showed no sign of having heard or seen her. Clearing her throat once more and raising her voice slightly, she repeated, "Excuse me, sir?"

This time, he placed his quill down and peered down at Lily, sporting a bored look.

"New account?" he grumbled.

"Yes," she said firmly.

"Fill these application forms out, please."

Stuffing a leaflet of papers into Lily's arms, he engaged himself with whatever he had originally been working on again.

"Yeah?" she muttered to herself. "I'll fill 'em out…if you told me how to."

But though she never had to fill any such forms before, they were pretty much straightforward, excluding one specific question.

"Remus? Could you come over here for a second? This question, it says: 'Check off your blood type.' What sort of question is that?" She looked back down at the possible answers: pureblood, half-blood, or mudblood. And she was the one who thought blood types could only be letters. "This is so confusing. I don't get it at all! Remus? Could you help?"

"It's…you check off mudblood," Remus said slowly, but his face blanched and contorted in pain and – was that sympathy?

"What does that mean? What's a mudblood?" Lily asked, her face buoyantly joyous, her expression contrasting that of her friend's. "Hmm?"

"Someone with…" His face fell. "I don't know how to explain it, Lily. I'm sorry."

"Then how did you know what to answer?" she demanded.

"Okay, fine. A mudblood is…I don't know how to say it." He buried his face his hands, trying to come up with the most clement way of saying it. "It's someone who has Muggle origins…like you," he said finally.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, comprehension dawning on her face.

With a flourish, she checked off that box, signed her name, and marched up to the desk, brandishing her forms. Lily handed the unhappy goblin the pounds she had saved up exchanged them for the strangest coins she had ever laid eyes on. After leaving in her vault (number 827) her initial deposit, she and Remus headed out the door, each holding a jangling bag filled with money that pleaded to be spent.

"Where do you want to go first?" said Lily, feeling like she owed her friend a favor.

"Let's do our shopping in the order the list has them."

"So that would mean we'd have to get our robes first, right?"

"Yup, and Madam Malkin's is right over there," he said, waving his hand to a shop two doors down.

"Malkin," Lily guffawed. "That's such a funny name!"

As they were being fitted with their robes, she prattled on about amusing incidents that had happened to her when she had gone shopping.

"Oh, and there was this once where my sister kept trying to poke me. I'm really ticklish, so she poked me in the stomach and I sort of tumbled into the nearest rack of clothing. I remember mum was kind of pleased, but the store manager wasn't. I'll never forget how angry he looked."

Remus smiled a bit at Lily's anecdotes, his weary face lighting up. To him, it seemed that she was the person who would abandon all caution and delve into whatever it was she wanted. Such an attitude would be helpful when entering a world as complex as that of the Wizarding world, but he feared for her. Recklessness, especially coming from someone of her background, would have to be reigned in and kept under constant watch. He didn't think she – she that dazzled with energy and vigor – would be able to have such self-control. His jaw hardened. His first year might be a little harder than what he had expected.

Nevertheless, he felt ashamed at thinking this. Immediately labeling her as a carefree and ignorant child without any care in the world wasn't giving her enough credit. He had seen the terror she could feel as well, having observed her fall spontaneously ill after entering Diagon Alley alone, probably simply due to being overwhelmed; he couldn't blame her for it. And the fortitude with which she faced it. He thought all girls were weepy little creatures, crying if anything was out of place, yet she had been able to bear it all without shedding a tear. Still, she was his burden now. Remus would never understand how he felt obliged to remain watchful for her sake (after all, she was…no, don't think of it like that). There was something horribly incorrect about the image of this headstrong girl pushing her way into a world that might not accept her, and he had been the first of his kind to become acquainted with her.

"Remus? Is anything wrong? You look tired."

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly answered, breaking away from his reverie.

"She's done, anyway," Lily said. "She's only packing them for us, and I've already paid."

Thinking how stupid he was to have forgotten about paying for his clothes and musing over Lily instead, Remus hopped off the stool he had been standing on and approached Madame Malkin, apologizing profusely.

"Not a problem," she said cheerily as he handed her a few coins. In exchanged, she gave him two packages wrapped in brown paper. "Now, this one here's for you, and the other you can give to your friend, alright? Have a nice day!"

The traffic in Diagon Alley had lessened significantly since most of those that had been milling around were taking a lunch break. Remus had meekly mentioned the notion of resting to eat a little something, but Lily was much too excited to bother with something as petty as lunch. This is what she had been looking forward to: _the course books_.

Flourish and Blott's being located right next to Madam Malkin's, she easily sprinted the short distance to its entrance and threw the door open, dashing inside, completely oblivious of anything else but the books in sight. If I ever had a private library, Lily thought, it would _have_ to be modeled after this. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the entire perimeter of the shop with polished sliding ladders attached to them. Shop representatives were plentiful, and some were leading lost and confused customers to the right section. Gilded titles shone from the spines of books of various sizes and degrees of thickness, and there was one section marked off. Upon closer examination, all the books she was required to buy could be found on this shelf alone.

Wizards, she thought, definitely place more value on their books. At her elementary school, the books were carelessly handled and in need of replacement. Due to her need to appease her insatiable appetite for reading and books while fitting under the tight budget she had, Lily had opted to buy used books as opposed to their shiny trade paperback editions she so desired. Here, the books were leather-bound and stamped with gold, ribbons hanging from their spines – the absolute stereotypical novel she dreamed of. _And they were in reach of her fingertips._ Shivering with delight, she carefully pulled a copy of _The Art of Potion Brewing_ from the shelf, absorbing the perfection and precision with which the book had been bound and published.

"Look at this, Remus!" she squealed, pointing to the page she had opened to. "The picture…it's _moving_!"

"Shh, Lily!" he insisted, glancing around to see if anyone had heard. "Be quiet!"

"But look at it! It's fantastic!"

Mesmerized by the self-stirring cauldron, she stared on, and Remus was once again reminded of how little she knew of the Wizarding world…and how potentially harmful it could be. He was aware he would have to tell her sometime for it was an unavoidable and inevitable fact of life, but his heart melted, seeing how purely ecstatic Lily was, and he couldn't bring himself to say what was required of him. Better someone like myself tell her, he thought glumly.

They chose out their books together, chortling as they went. Fond of the moving pictures, Lily made a point to see the photographs of the books' authors and ended up shrewdly mentioning Newt Scamander looked quite reptilian. Observant of the cover's colors, she noticed they were all monotones and not printed with an ornate design like Muggle books. Biographies being the exception, they hadn't any pictures on the front and only a bold title.

_A History of Purebloods_ was strangely attractive, although its cover was an inky black color without even a picture to brighten its somberness. While Lily didn't mind the color, seeing nothing _but_ it was entirely too morbid for her. Its author, Karena Fidellalessa, Lily thought, would not have looked out of place in the court of Versailles during the _ancien régime_. With dark hair flowing past her shoulders and a pursed mouth, she carried a very aristocratic air. The title, too, was baffling. "Purebloods"? Although she recalled seeing that word on her Gringotts account application form, she hadn't any idea as to what it meant. She almost asked Remus again, but having pestered him so often already, Lily decided she would be able to understand it all better after reading it and attending a few classes.

Remus had already purchased his set of books and was waiting patiently for Lily finish examining her own.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were done!" she said, looking disappointed. "These books are just so interesting…well, I guess I should pay for them so we can leave."

"Just take your time," he assured her. "And, if you care, which I think you do, you can take a look at some of the other sections of the store. I'm sure you'd be able to find something you'd want to read."

Heeding his idea, Lily and Remus wandered upstairs, where it was slightly less crowded. He surmised she would immediately attack the "Spell Books" section with full enthusiasm, but he frowned quizzically as she meandered over to the "History" section. Not being acquainted with anyone who found the past a bit interesting, he was taken aback by the zeal she displayed to what he considered the most boring topic of all.

"You like history, I take it?" he asked wryly.

"I absolutely love it!" Lily shouted, not catching his sarcastic tone. "It's the only thing I really loved to in school, but they don't seem to have any books on the French Revolution."

"The what?"

"You've never heard of the French Revolution?" she asked wide-eyed. "I thought…oh, never mind. I guess I'm just a history nut then, but there's nothing wrong with _that_," she added. "Or do they not teach you Muggle history in whatever school you went to?"

Remus shook his head.

"Never saw the point."

"What school did you go to? Is there a Hogwarts for Toddlers or something?"

"They don't call it that, but you could say it that way, I guess. Dumbledore set up an elementary school for children of magical descent, and I think it's pretty far from Hogwarts. Didn't want too many magic schools crowded in one, I guess."

"What did they teach you there?"

"Nothing." He grinned. "I never paid attention…and I was sick a lot…when I was younger," he attempted to say in a semi-nonchalant fashion, but Lily noticed his face twitch unpleasantly when he mentioned being ill constantly. "Um, so, anyway, if you want a good history book to start out with, I guess I'd have to recommend _Hogwarts, A History_. It'll give you a good background about the school and a few other things."

Catching a copy directly in front of her, she grabbed it and threw it on top of her already staggeringly high book pile ("Why do you have a copy of _Charms on the Side_?" "So I can learn more, of course, and take advantage of the resources available to me"), basking contently in the shocked expression of the cashier as she handed him the money. Bet he's never seen a person who actually _likes_ to read, she thought.

From selecting a wand (willow, ten inches and a quarter, swishy, and according to the storekeeper, very good for charm work) and scooping out dragon liver, Lily found a level of satisfaction in shopping she never could have found in a Muggle mall. Everything was so novel to her, and she had to try it all, including suspicious-looking samples being handed out by a witch parading around Diagon Alley.

"They _were_ really good," she maintained stubbornly as they strolled down the alley to Fortescue's.

"Fine," Remus huffed, who was now acting a good deal more open than when Lily had first met him, "but when you're sick, don't come running to me."

As they reached the parlor, Lily commented that Mrs. Lupin had yet to arrive, or if she had ever been there in the first place, to come back. Shrugging apprehensively, she suggested they take a seat and wait. However, in the blazing afternoon heat, all the tables were occupied, and despite the ice creams everyone was consuming, the boisterous chatter only added to the temperature.

"Look, over there," Remus said, pointing to a small boy sitting alone, kicking at the dirt with his shoes. "Think he'd mind if we sat next to him? It's the only place that's sort of open."

In a foil of the bold way she had been acting all day, Lily approached the boy. He wasn't "small," as Remus had pointed out, merely a bit on the skinny side, and she knew he would be at least a few inches taller than her had he been standing up. A pair of round and thin glasses adorned his clear hazel eyes, and his shock of black hair could've done with a bit of grooming. Then again, if anyone tried to pull a comb through it, its teeth would probably snap off in the tangled mess of hair.

"Excuse me?" she said softly, and the boy's blank face turned to her. "There isn't another empty table, so my friend Remus and I were wondering if we could sit here."

"No problem," he sighed, stretching and closing his eyes lazily. "It's been pretty boring 'round here all day."

"Have you really been here since morning?" she asked, sitting down and motioning for Remus to join her. Suddenly, the boy threw back his head, engulfed in wild laughter, his eyes misting up in mirth. "What?" she demanded furiously, wondering how this boy had the gall to laugh at her when they were barely knew each other. "What's so funny?"

"You're the most literal person I've ever met," he managed to spit out through his amusement (now tapering off). "But, since you want me to answer your question, I haven't been here since morning. I've only been here for – oh, I don't know – maybe half an hour or so, but I have absolutely nothing to do."

For a moment, the relaxed demeanor of this boy mirrored that of Karena Fidellalessa's. He had that same aura to him, that supercilious manner of comfort, that everything was right with this world.

"My mum and dad are at Madam Malkin's," he continued. "They've been granted an audience with the Minister of Magic and need new dress robes. Always have to look good, don't we, us purebloods?" He rolled his eyes, propping his feet up on the table. "I don't see why blood matters anyway…and what's your name?"

"I'm Lily…" she spoke slowly, prudently leaving her last name out.

"James Potter," he said, shaking her hand. "And you?" he asked, turning to Remus.

"Remus Lupin."

"So you two already know each other?"

"We sort of…bumped into each other this morning," Lily finished uncomfortably, the memory of her vomiting in front of his mum carrying a burning shame. "Then we did our school shopping together."

"My mum said she'd be here to meet us," Remus said, peering into the street as if his mother was coming, "but she hasn't showed up yet."

"You're going to wait for her then?"

"I guess."

The three of them stared around, stupefied by the intense late summer heat. Lily, in the middle of pondering why London was usually hot today, was caught off guard when James, sounding very refreshed, began talking.

"Did you go to Gambol & Japes today?" he inquired, a maniac look flashing in his eyes. Not waiting for a response or even a reaction, he rambled on. "They had this thing on sale – bloody cool – and it comes in a pair. You give one of them to another person and you keep on for yourself. They're _totally_ silent and they know what your thinking – magic, it's amazing, isn't it? – and it transports your own thoughts to the thing the other person has and – "

"Breathe, James!" Lily muttered, feeling that if she had to withstand another second of this spoiled boy's ranting, she would die.

"But they're _bloody amazing_! They can actually – "

"I don't care, anyway," she spat, liking him less and less. "They're just like walkie-talkies anyway."

"What are those?" James asked.

"Something like what you're talking about," she groaned, turning to Remus. "This guy is really annoying me," she murmured. "Can't we sit somewhere else?"

"No one's left since we came," he said, sounding just as vexed as Lily.

She checked her watch: _three o'clock_. There was still an hour to go before she had to be in front of The Leaky Cauldron, waiting to be picked up. How she was going to survive the next sixty minutes she could not fathom. Shifting around in her seat, she retrieved _Hogwarts, A History_ to begin reading, but the sweat pouring in her eyes made the words very hard to see. In a matter of minutes, she found herself reading, "Though no one knows on which date _exactly_ Hogwarts was founded, most historians place it – " over and over again. Defeated, she slammed it on the ground, attracting the stares of James and Remus.

"Lily, just calm down," James urged, though he was in no position to say anything of the like.

"I can't! I'm so bored and it's too hot to even read!" she screamed, standing up and stomping into the alley again. "I'm going to _find_ your mum, Remus, because I'm not going to sit and waste my time and do nothing for another hour!"

"Quiet down!" Remus said, running out to drag her back to the table and ignoring the reproachful stares from nearby customers. "And get off the road!"

"Why should I do _that_?" Lily shrieked, throwing off his arm. "There aren't any cars – "

"Yes, but only something worse," he gulped, cocking his head toward a large group of people that had just emerged from Gringotts. The lot of them had their heads thrown back in uproarious laughter, save for one little boy, who looked quite downtrodden with his limp hair bobbing up and down with each step. This little boy, though, was entirely passed over by Remus. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as he said, "The Blacks. I'll explain it to you later if you just _get off the road_."

Vexed her "perfect" day had turned her ill-tempered, she obediently followed him back to Fortescue's with her sight still fixed on "the Blacks," as Remus had called them.

"Okay," she stated as soon as she was seated, "now you owe me an explanation. What's so wrong about 'the Blacks'?"

To her surprise, James was the one to answer.

"They're a very powerful family, and they're, er, kind of judgmental of people who aren't like them."

"Translation, Remus?"

"Sorry, Lily, but I can't put it in any other way. What he said was true…"

"So they're like Britain's royal family?"

"Somewhat."

"But if the Queen was walking down the street, I'm sure her guards wouldn't be pulling me back just because the Queen was there. I know you have respect her, but her being there doesn't mean I can't walk where I want to. We don't live in the past anymore, you know that."

Choosing to ignore Lily, James asked her a question that, according to Wizarding etiquette, should have been asked when they first met.

"What's your surname?"

"My what? Why do you need to know that?" she yelped, hiding the fact her heart was hammering against her chest, afraid of the skeptical look she was sure to get.

"If you want to know more about the Blacks, you're going to have to tell me."

What's this, blackmail? she thought sardonically.

"Evans," she uttered loftily, trying to appear as if his question had left her entirely indifferent. Stunning her inwardly, James' expression only grew more intense and concentrated, giving his face a look of maturity it normally would not have attained. Not daring to breathe, Lily realized this boy, no matter how much of a child he seemed, held a store of knowledge greater than hers. Books can only teach you so much, she thought dispiritedly, and experience provides the rest. "What?" she exclaimed, exasperated, not knowing how her last name could carry such significance.

"That's _exactly_ what. You're not a Black."

"I know I'm not a Black, but why should that matter at all?" she shrugged, leaning back on the table, as if without a care in the world.

"We'll have to tell you later," Remus said, his voice dropping to a threateningly low register. "My mum's here. Hey, Mum! Let me introduce you to James Potter."

"Oh, a Potter? And how is your father doing?"

"Fine, fine," he mumbled, his face burning.

Very put out she had missed the story, Lily tried her best to present a smiling figure, but the fatigue from walking around all day had at last set in, and maintaining a semblance of enjoyment was a trial. After Mrs. Lupin had bought them each an ice cream, James had thankfully taken over the conversation, informing them all of his purchases, including an avant-garde broomstick that, sadly, couldn't be used this year.

"I don't see why first years aren't allowed to have brooms of their own," he prattled on. "Dad told me there's a Quidditch Club or something along those lines, and it's made up mostly of first years since they didn't make their House teams. Actually, there are bound to be _some_ of them that are better than the older players; they're just too afraid to try out. Well, I'm going to change that. I'm going to tryout and I'm going to make the Gryffindor team, and when I do, I'll tell all the first years they were morons not to tryout. Well, sure, a first year hasn't made the House teams in God knows how bloody long; still, I mean, really, some things you're just born with. I'm sure some of those seventh years just don't have them."

At this point, Lily was too embattled with aching limbs to take note of the term "Quidditch" and to reprimand him for his unconcealed arrogance. She felt her head drooping, her mind entering a state of utter peace and –

"Goodness, Lily!"

"Wha…"

Groggily raising her head off the table, she still didn't bother to open her eyes. It would make her work beyond her capacity, and the air was still thick with shouts.

"Don't you have to go home yet?" Mrs. Lupin fretted, trying to gently coax Lily awake but eventually fell back to shaking her shoulder violently.

"At four," she said almost inaudibly, throwing off the hand that gripped her.

"It's four-fifteen!"

No more goading was needed as Lily sprang awake, her eyes vigilant and searching for her shopping bags.

"Oh, God, it _is_?" she cried. "I'm fifteen minutes late! Sorry, but I really have to leave! Goodbye!" Arms full with her purchases, she sprinted back to the brick wall by The Leaky Cauldron, unaware she was crashing into countless window-shoppers. As she neared the entrance, Lily racked her brains, forcing herself to remember how the bartender had opened the wall. _Something that involved a wand_, she recalled, thrusting her hand into a random bag and hoping she would find her wand.

She hardly had time to marvel at her luck. Lily began to tap bricks here-and-there, but the brick wall remained immobile.

"COME ON!" she yelled, kicking it and soon regretting it as well. "OPEN, YOU – "

"What's all the racket over there?" a muffled voice answered from the other side. "You _could_ be a little quieter. I swear the Muggles'll hear you at that volume. So what's this you want? You need me to let you in?"

"Yes, please!" The bricks parted to the side, and a mildly amused Tom appeared in front of her. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" she panted, an unspeakable relief settling over her.

"No problem, just don't forget how you do this again. Look."

He showed her the proper way of tapping the breaks, and after promising this information would never leave her, Lily was allowed to leave, her face flushed.

"There you are!" Mrs. Evans said, running over to hug her daughter. "We thought you had…you had disappeared or something."

"Sorry, Mum. I just lost track of time."

"So, was it fun?" she asked as they walked back to the car, eyeing the many bags.

"Oh, really. Wizards do know how to shop."

It wasn't until they had entered the highway did Lily remember she had forgotten to pay back Mrs. Lupin for buying her an ice cream.


	4. Collision

**Chapter Four: Collision**

The next morning, a light swoosh past her ear awoke Lily, who turned her head to follow the sound.

"Regina," she murmured sleepily, extending a limp arm to greet her returning friend. "How are you? And how's your wing?" Thrusting her wing out smugly, it pleased Lily to see her friend healthy again. Bet the local vet couldn't've done that, she thought. "Have you got something for me as well? Let me see."

The owl laid a parchment ticket in her palm, and she studied it closely. Carefully turning it over, she noticed a note scrawled in loopy letters on the back. _This is your ticket for boarding the train to Hogwarts. Do not lose._ Seemed simple enough – the King's Cross Station in London. While her parents might not be too pleased with having to make the trip to the city again, there was still a month to go.

A very long month, Lily thought wryly, hoisting herself out of bed and strolling to her desk calendar. She flipped through the pages until she reached September 1. Sighing, she starred the date and slumped back onto her bed.

Thirty-one days. _The best of luck to you, Lily_, she told herself.

But as the last month of her old life wore on, she sometimes found herself unconsciously saying farewell to places that had been there since her childhood. The neighborhood park and its creaky swings, the streets her feet had pounded when seeking a moment's solace…they would be gone. Gone, exchanged for something alien and almost completely unfamiliar. It tasted bitter between her teeth at times, but then she thought of Remus and the acridness receded for a moment. At least you have a friend, she often reminded herself. At least you have _one_. Maybe two, if you count James, which – she supposed – she did.

Every time she looked at her parents, those weathered but still young faces, strained but eager-to please, her soul filled with a searing longing severe enough to almost make her rip up her Hogwarts acceptance letter. _How can I leave you? I've lived with you my whole life…and you'll be gone._

Lily expected to cry torrents the morning before her departure, clinging desperately to her mum, but when she announced that everything was packed and she was ready to leave, her face was composed, her heart barely fluttering. She would have been entirely composed had her lower lip not been trembling, threatening to expose her guise of tranquility.

"Petunia!" Mr. Evans called up the stairs. "Would you like to come drop Lily off at the train station?"

"Why would I want to do _that_?" she replied.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your sister? You're not going to see her for almost an entire year – "

"Dad," Lily interrupted, placing a hand on his arm, "it's fine. She doesn't have to come. It'd probably be better if she didn't." As they headed out the door, she snorted to herself, "It _would_ be better if she didn't."

There was still a good ten minutes to spare as they reached the packed station, which was full of commuters rushing to get to work. Bright yellow cabs lined the streets, all vying for passengers by honking incessantly, much to the irritation of Lily. Her parents jostled her, the trunk, and Regina's cage (perched atop the trunk) along, craning their necks to find their daughter's platform –

"Um, dear," Mrs. Evans asked worriedly, "Where's this train coming?"

"The ticket said…" Lily reached into her pocket to extract the folded paper. "'Platform Nine and Three Quarters,'" she read, her brow furrowing in confusion. _Platform Nine and Three Quarters_? What were they talking about? Surely it was a misprint. She couldn't see anything located between platforms nine and ten! Shaking with anxiety, she looked at her mum. "I'll ask around," she reassured her, though feeling none too reassured herself. Maybe Remus is here, she thought. He'd tell me. His mum's a witch, after all.

But three minutes of rapid searching yielded nothing, and Lily began eyeing the clock repeatedly, dreading the moment it would chime, signaling the eleventh hour. Suddenly, her sight fell on a group of people she was sure she had seen before…

_The Blacks_.

Two of them were talking, and she listened in on their exchange.

" – Mum, I hate wearing all this Muggle clothing – "

" – Bella, don't complain, especially when in public."

Lily opened her mouth to ask them about the platform when the terrified face of Remus appeared in her mind. His eyes had doubled their width when he had seen them, and his face paled to the degree where the only thing that could be whiter than it was the snow. Still, she didn't see what was wrong about the Blacks.

"Um, excuse me?" she ventured at the dark-haired lady that had just chastised Bella.

"What is it you want?" she sneered, viewing Lily with a supremely haughty look.

"I…I was just wondering how you get onto the platform!" she squeaked, petrified at the woman's dominating presence.

"A _Mudblood_, are you?" Bella interjected, her face glowing. "Hah! I didn't know they still let scum like you go to Hogwarts, what with that Muggle-loving headmaster in such trouble!"

"Bella, that's enough," her mother said, coolly ushering her daughter behind her. "We can't let our – " She pursed her lips " – _new friend_ feel unwelcome, now, can we? Now, do you see the barrier between platforms nine and ten? Simply run towards it and you'll find it."

As she steered Bella away, Lily caught their high-pitched giggling. Scowling back at them, she checked the time again. _Three minutes to go_! And what sort of advice was running right at the barrier? If I want a broken neck, she thought, I'll try it. But as she spun her head around every which way, seeking more wizards to ask, she knew it was hopeless. Just do what that woman told you, she urged herself. It certainly didn't _seem_ like she was lying…

"Mum, I know now," she quickly said as she hurried back to her parents. "I know what I've got to do. I guess I'll take my stuff now and…"

That was it then. Eleven years of upbringing about to be swept away just as the train would exist King's Cross. There would be no more rummaging through her mum's bag for treats or eagerly absorbing childhood tales from her dad, no more dinners and laughs, family outings and ice cream. For her entire life Lily had had these two immovable stars to guide her along the treacherous path of life, lighting the way when she was lost, rescuing her if she had fallen. And now those stars had been extinguished…extinguished and diminished by her _own hand_…it was all her fault the sentinels of her existence, standing strong, forever fixed above her in a dazzling array, a show that was heaven sent…it was all gone. Because Lily wanted to go to Hogwarts, to begin a new path, one that wasn't lit or well-trodden…one that her parents couldn't first travel…couldn't travel at all…

"G'bye, Mum," Lily mumbled into her mother's sleeve as she was caught up in a tight embrace, squinting her eyes and not allowing herself to yield to the threatening tears. "I'll miss you."

"So will I," Mrs. Evans sighed quietly after setting her daughter back down. "Here, we've got a present for you, but hurry up because you haven't much time." From her purse, she extracted a journal, its cover slathered with an intricate floral design. "I'm sure that, later on your life, you will want to look back on Hogwarts. I'm not requesting you to write regularly. You don't even have to write at all, but…if you do…"

"She needs to leave _now_!" Mr. Evans urged from nearby, pointing at the clock.

"Oh! Goodbye, Lily! Take care!"

But Lily had already turned away, deaf to her mother's last words. Having hastily pocketed the journal, she pivoted to face the barrier separating platforms nine and ten. Just run, she told herself. You won't crash. For an instant, her muscles twitched, yearning to run back to her parents, yet she was hardly aware of her legs bounding towards what seemed to only have been a solid brick wall…albeit in the form of a barrier – there was no stopping now – Lily extended a hand to hold Regina's cage steady – she shut her eyes, bracing for the collision –

A sharp train whistle greeted her ears as she slowly opened her eyes. She watched a conductor, who had been standing by the train only seconds before, run to her, an alarmed look on his face.

"The train's just about to leave! Get your trunk in there!" he yelled, pushing Lily forward. "Never mind the trunk, just leave it here! GET ON THE TRAIN!"

Petrified by his stern tone, she leaped across the platform to an open door, what she assumed the entrance to the train was. The clock rang out its mellow tones just as she set her foot inside a carpeted corridor, her heart hammering.

"Hello, Lily."

The calm voice sent her head twirling around, her mind overwhelmed by the pace of the events that had just happened – the journal, the conductor, now a stranger saying hello to her.

"Hi?" she answered, puzzled.

"It's Remus. Don't you remember?"

Clutching her chest, Lily studied the placid boy's face. The premature wrinkles, the soft eyes…

"Oh, my God, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you at all! I'm in such a rush – "

"Here you go," came a grumpy noise from behind her, followed by the shutting of a door. The conductor shoved a trunk and cage into Lily's arms, causing her to stagger backwards with the extra weight. "Next time, _don't_ be this late. We're never holding up the train again for a student, understand?"

"Yes," Lily gulped, her eyes averting his menacing stare.

"Now off with you two."

As he left, Remus eyed the conductor with a skeptical glance.

"They held up the train for you?" he muttered.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Lily demanded. "And I wasn't late, whatever the idiot said. I was _just on time_."

"Okay, okay! It's just…that's never happened before. Well, that's what my parents say anyway. They told me this story about a guy in their year who missed the train and when they called his name, he wasn't there so he missed out on all of Hogwarts. God, isn't that horrible? Imagine if that happened to either of us…or anyone at that. Here, I've already got a seat for us. Follow me."

The "seat" turned out to be a comfortable-looking cubicle located in one of the passenger cars, lined with plush benches on both sides. A table stood underneath the window (displaying a quickly disappearing London), laden with a variety of candies Lily had never seen before. Seeing Remus's trunk was already stashed underneath one of the benches, she proceeded to do the same thing.

"So," he asked, after they had both been seated, "how have things been since I last saw you?"

"Well, Petunia's – that's my sister – she's been annoying, like always. More so since I went to Diagon Alley. I think it was because she saw everything I had bought, while she, apparently, wasn't allowed to buy anything from the mall."

"Sibling rivalry," Remus remarked wistfully.

"Do you have a sister? Brother?"

"No, only child, and from the looks of it, I'm very lucky to be one."

"Stop it!" Lily demanded, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

"What? What did I say?" he said in mock surprise, holding his hands up as if surrendering.

"You're making fun of me!"

"What's wrong with that?"

Lily had never had anyone to joke around with her before, exchanging repartees and sarcastic comments, and she threw her head back in wild laughter, not knowing why she was so provoked to erupt in giggles. After her mirth had passed, however, Remus's face had lost its jovialness.

"So, you got on the platform alright?" he asked in a somewhat motherly fashion.

"Yeah. I asked these people for directions…"

_The Blacks_. Just as their surname might imply, whenever Lily thought of them, it made her feel susceptible and exposed. Chills ran down her back, filling her with exhilaration, but an ominous one. And after having seen them, _talked_ to them…the presence they commanded, even when in Muggle clothing, was quite something.

"Who? Who did you ask?" he questioned, his voice developing a cutting edge.

"Er – "

But before anything could leave her mouth, the door of their compartment slid open, and a familiar-looking head stuck itself in. It was followed by a body already clothed in black Hogwarts robes.

"Hey, you don't mind if I sit with you guys, do you?"

"No, not at all, James," Lily replied, sensing her journey to Hogwarts was in jeopardy of becoming a raucous party, but she moved over so he could have a seat nonetheless.

With a flump, he plopped himself down next to her and took a Chocolate Frog from the table.

"Remus, you mind if I eat one?"

"Go ahead."

Lily watched on, enthralled at the moving treat. Its arms and legs flailed in all directions as James lifted it up to his mouth. He popped it in, limbs and all, and after chewing for a few moments, he busied himself with the Chocolate Frog package.

"What's so interesting about that?" she asked.

"The cards," he mumbled through a chocolate-stuffed mouth. "Here, take a look."

He handed her a pentagon-shaped card. A witch, who had just brandished a beaker filled with…something, adorned one of its sides, and on the other, Lily found a highly interesting biography about the person who first concocted a Love Potion.

Suddenly struck with shame, she realized she was sitting in a compartment whose other passengers were _male_. Rarely did she spend any of her time around those of the opposite sex, and while she hadn't developed the mooning-over-guys state her sister constantly wandered around in, knowing she would be alone with Remus and James caused her to shift slightly in her seat, inching towards the window. _Hours_ alone with Remus and James.

But no matter, she thought. I already know them and they don't _like_-like me…in that way…I guess. Whatever, Lily told herself after minutes of pondering. Just act like this never crossed your mind.

When she exited her reverie, talk of Hogwarts already had the two boys immersed. For the first time since receiving her letter, Lily felt a pang of nervousness.

"What house do you think you're going to be in?" James asked.

"My dad was in Hufflepuff," Remus said, "and my mum was in Ravenclaw. I'll be in one of those, I guess."

"Both of my parents were in Gryffindor, so they're expecting me to be the same."

"Not like the rest of your family?"

"For God's sake, I'm not related to the Blacks!" he exclaimed, his face incredulous.

There they are again! Lily thought. The Blacks. They seemed to be everywhere, slipping in where you least expected them. And what did James have to do with them, anyway?

"I thought they were all intermarried," Remus said quietly, his cheeks burning.

"The Potters have always been a bit…weird, if you will," James declared, a slight crease developing between his eyebrows. "Like, I mean, you know what my parents are doing, right? We're just not like other Purebloods, so a lot of people don't even know we _are_ Purebloods. My parents don't even set much of a store by it, anyway. They could be Muggle-borns and they wouldn't care.

"See, the Malfoys and the Blacks, they're the all-British, all-Wizarding families. They marry only within their country, as well as their families. But we marry Purebloods from all across Europe. My mum's part German, you know that? We're related to the Longbottoms. I think half their family doesn't even live in Britain."

"Is that all Wizards talk about?" Lily interrupted, bored with the genealogical discussions. "Their families?"

To her astonishment, Remus answered a steely, "Yes. Family is everything." Then she witnessed a most strange happening. His face was screwed in concentration, and yet, after a while, it began to break and soon turned a ghastly white, as if he had said something vile.

Lily wisely chose to ignore this and continued to stare out at the steadily darkening landscape. The day was absolutely brilliant, the sun restraining nothing and pouring forth all of its glory. Passing clouds sauntered down the broad avenue of clear blue, extending their outstretched arms to Lily as if to fly her up to the gates of infinite possibilities. She slowly lifted her finger to the window, where it landed tenderly, tracing the shape of a cloud on the window.

"My dear, would you like to eat something?" a sweet voice rang out, startling her.

"What?" Lily asked, turning around to see a plump witch patiently standing outside the compartment, waiting by a food-laden cart.

"I asked you if you would like to buy something."

Not being to able to recognize anything for sale, she politely refused, feeling her stomach wouldn't be able to take any food, regardless of how delectable it might be. She massaged her belly in circular movements, its qualms distracting her from anything else. Never had she experienced such strong apprehension, her nerves undulating with the gentle rolling motion of the train. Then again, it wasn't so gentle anymore, what with split seconds of weightlessness striking her sporadically.

"Lily, are you okay?" Remus ventured concernedly.

"I'm just feeling a little sick, that's all."

"Nervous about Hogwarts?"

"How did you know?" she retorted, sounding a little sharper than what she had intended.

"It's natural," he assured her. "Actually, I'm a bit anxious myself. Just a bit though."

That's because you already know a lot about magic and the Wizarding world, Lily thought, bracing herself for the latest wave of nausea. I know nothing. And it hurt her to think the lack of knowledge lay in something other than academics. Potion ingredients could be memorized and wave movements practiced. It was the culture and the ways, the present and the past of the Wizarding world, its people, she knew nothing about.

Concerned with her ignorance, Lily took out _Hogwarts, a History_ and tried to glean as much information as she could from its pages. An hour later, he eyelids began to droop as she sank into a semi-stupor, her head nestling itself next to the window while she hopelessly read on –

Muffled steps from outside the compartment door awoke Lily, who instantly sat up to see what was happening. Remus shook his head and motioned for her to lie back down, but before she could do so, the door flew open, reverberating threateningly after slamming into the wall, rudely knowing James out of his peaceful slumber. A livid boy rushed into the compartment, his face twisted in an enraged snarl. After quickly catching his breath, he swung himself back into the corridor.

"Aww, is wittle Siwius too scared to fight back?" a girlish voice taunted from further down the aisle.

"SHUT UP, BELLA!" he yelled back with an unmatchable ferocity. Grumbling indistinctly, he turned back around and found himself facing at a stunned crowd. "Sorry about that," he said at last, staring adamantly at the window opposite him.

"No problem, mate," James said, extending a hand, which the stranger took cautiously. "I'm James Potter, and this is Remus Lupin and – " He paused momentarily " – and Lily."

With eyes twinkling with kindness, he looked over at her. She turned pink, overcome with gratitude he hadn't disclosed that volatile piece of information in the presence of…dare she think it? She thought she had seen him somewhere when he first burst in…and then that other name was mentioned.

"P-Potter?" the boy stammered, who appeared to be trying to fix his face into a mask of contempt and disgust. However, he failed spectacularly and abandoned the attempt altogether, now appearing much more at ease. "I'm Sirius," he announced confidently, though still with a protective edge.

_Sirius_. The more masculine form of "Siwius," I guess, Lily thought. It would be so perfect to ask him now, but what if her suspicions had been wrong? And what if they had been _right_, and she was actually talking to one of _them_?

"Sirius…Black?" she put forward timidly.

For a second, the only noise that could be heard was the muted rattling of the train, the clicking of its wheels.

"How did you know?" he asked flatly, not cutting or even surprised that a girl he had met mere minutes before could guess his last name.

"You mentioned the name 'Bella,'" Lily replied in the same level tone.

"And how do you know her?"

She bit her lip. Lily knew she should have been prepared to answer that question, not just for Sirius but Remus as well.

"I, er, I met her on the platform."

Which really isn't the truth, she thought. I first saw her in Diagon Alley with Sirius and the rest of the Blacks, and our very short acquaintance – well, I don't know if you can even call it that because she doesn't know my name – wasn't exactly what I'd call friendly. Besides, I never really _talked_ to her.

"She's my cousin," Sirius admitted dejectedly. "I hate her, and she annoys the shit out of me." He wheeled around to look James straight in the eye. To Lily's surprise, his countenance radiated not the usual imperturbable nonchalance she had become so accustomed to but an unflappable concentration, one that wouldn't have been broken even if she screamed into his ear. "I'm not like her…and _them_. And I don't want to be like them either, okay?"

"I've got it, I've got it," James yawned, back to his lackadaisical and bored self.

"I'll go then." But as Sirius prepared to leave, his sharp gaze softened and his jaw wasn't as tense. "Look, I'm sorry for acting this way," he blurted out, shuffling his feet around. "It's just that, well, I'm sick of being one, you know what I mean? I wish I could be a Potter because, that way – "

"Oh, no, you don't," James sighed, moving so Sirius could have a seat. "My dad's always nagging me about 'not being involved enough,' and, man, it gets to be a little too much sometimes. My uncle's even worse! Sometimes he'll go to work dressed up in – what are they called? – _jeans_. I'd feel bad for his kids…but thank God he doesn't have any."

"I can't see why you're complaining though. Do you know what I've gotta put up with at home? It's crazy, I tell you."

Lily found herself getting more and more lost as Sirius's list of grievances wore on, so when Remus invited her to go out in the hallway and chat, she eagerly agreed.

"I thought I was going to die," she groaned once they were out of earshot, "listening to him go on and on – "

"When did you meet Bellatrix?" Remus interrupted, his voice not containing any shadow of levity.

Why does it even matter? Lily thought, feeling very vexed, but she swallowed her irritation and obediently replied, "Like I said, on the platform."

"What did you say to her?"

"Well, I never really talked to her. See, I talked to her _mum_ – Sirius's aunt."

"Then what did you say to her?"

"Just asked her were the platform is. That's it, I swear." Remus's expression remained dark despite whatever coaxing Lily could come up with. He's making absolutely no sense, she thought. What exactly is so wrong about asking someone for directions, huh? I think I was really lucky to bump into them. Otherwise, I would've missed the train for sure, no matter how long they would have held it up for me. "Look," she finally said after another round of endless interrogation, "if this is all you're going to talk about, then we'd better get back to the compartment. I'll say it just one more time, in case you missed it, oh, the last hundred times or so. I asked her, 'How did you get on the platform?' and in a way that couldn't've insulted her."

Frustrated, Lily didn't bother to wait for a reply and she stalked away, incensed thoughts filling her mind. What does he take me for, a total idiot? Hey, I know he and everyone else are a lot smarter than I am, but I'm sure that at one point, they knew no more than I do now, although that was probably when they were around one or two. For not knowing where I _really_ belonged for the first eleven years of my life, I think I'm catching on quite nicely.

But as she stepped back into the compartment, no statement, however bold, could hide the fact she was growing increasingly inadequate to deal with the changes the Wizarding world had wrought in her life. Old philosophies had to be torn down, ripped up, and discarded. Old dies had to be pushed aside, severed, and placed in the past, the unchangeable and unshakeable past. Cling onto memories and regretting what should have been and what could have been were in no way going to help Lily. Facing a harsh new world required holding nothing and starting afresh.

"Hey, Lil!" James called out. "What've you been doing, and where's Remus?"

"Probably out in the hallway, snogging," Sirius joked, causing James to bury his face in his robes.

Choosing to pass over the implied romantic infatuation, she said coolly, "He's in the bathroom."

They accepted her excuse without a word, though James was still overcoming his fit of laughter, and Lily quickly sat down, wondering where Remus really was. Reflecting on their question-and-answer session, she guessed her brusque departure was roughly the equivalent of a slap to the face, like the ones Scarlett O'Hara was forever giving to men in _Gone With the Wind_, one of Lily's favorite novels (American, but still). She sighed, acknowledging once again her people skills, or lack thereof, were hardly polished. Maybe that's why I love books so much, she thought. Pages and words, they can't judge me. A sudden forlornness seized her, and without warning, Lily found herself wishing she hadn't forsaken Remus's company.

Having nothing else to do, she faced James and Sirius, who were back to conversing in inaudible and rapid whispers. It irked her a bit that she was being left out of their no-visitors-allowed discussions. Seeking to break that rule, Lily said loudly, "So, what are you talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing, nothing at all," James quickly stammered, whipping around and smiling at her innocently.

"I mean before you quickly ended your conversation."

"Why, I thought it was obvious," Sirius cooed, raising an eyebrow.

"_Then what_?"

"We were talking about how much of a nosy git you are."

"You were not," Lily shouted, unfazed by his joking around, "because if you were you wouldn't have told me! Now tell me the truth!"

"Or," he said in a psuedo-philosophical voice, "what if I was telling you the truth but _you _just decided not to listen to it?"

The words swam in front of her eyes, but they made no sense to her. She tried to ignore Sirius's amused expression, James's silent giggles from the corner…God, Remus, she thought desperately, where are you? She couldn't see what was so laughable about what she had asked and why that goddamn Black had to turn everything into a farce. And James…she thought he had been pretty decent throughout the entire train ride, but once Sirius had started talking to him…Lily could imagine a biography being written about her: _Stranger in One, Stranger in the Other: Traversing the Barrier Between Muggle and Magic_.

"Lily, just ignore him," James said, and she would have listened to him entirely had it not been for the tease that accompanied it. "He's had a little too much to smoke…"

And, once again, the entire compartment, except for one stony-faced girl, dissolved into uproarious glee.

"I surmised as much," Lily remarked sardonically.

Leaving the boys to their own hilarity, she stomped into the corridor. What did I do wrong? she thought. What did I do to ruin what could've been such a calm trip? Realizing she hadn't anywhere to go but back near the presences of James and Sirius, she sank to the floor, thinking what her parents had been doing since she left.

"Lily?"

"Go away," she spat, not wanting to speak to anyone.

"It's Remus. Hurry up and get changed. The conductor told me we're going to be there in about ten minutes."

If she had it her way, Lily would have sat there until eternity came, but train rides were finite happenings. Sighing, she tried to push herself onto her feet, but whatever strength she once had seemed had fled, reducing her arms to nothing but a tube of skin and bones.

"I can't get up," she moaned, still struggling.

"Here, let me help."

He extended his hand cautiously as if afraid that Lily would swat it away at any moment, and although she seemed devoid of energy at the moment, he was quite sure she still had to potential to react violently to, well, anything. Ever since he met her, Remus had devoted hours of free time trying to decipher her enigma of a personality, and needless to say, he hadn't made much progress, if any. The oddest things could make her tear up with joy; likewise, the oddest things could also make her explode.

She eyed him prudently and with a tinge of suspicion. Something about the situation made her feel defensive. He's only trying to help you get up, she told herself. Carefully, she placed her palm on his, and his fingers tightened around her hand.

If an observer had looked down the otherwise deserted corridor, he would have seen only a tableau of a perfect friendship, of gratitude, of aid. But within Lily, she felt something stir, something primitive and innate. Something she could not put a name to. She found that she couldn't look at Remus anymore.

"Yeah," she stammered, "I'll go get changed then."

Skirting James and Sirius in the compartment, she snatched a robe from her trunk and dashed into the bathroom, where she breathed deeply, feeling peace descend on her nerves.

Hogwarts, she thought, here I come.


	5. The Sorting

**Chapter Five: The Sorting**

"Lily!"

"I am awake…dammit," she grumbled, adding on the swear word. Her parents had always preached of finding more colorful and appropriate language than four-letter words to expressing strong emotions, and Lily had followed their lead faithfully. However, she had never felt so overwrought and drained in her entire life, yet still so energetic, and she could find no other way of putting it. "Remus, is there anything wrong with just closing my eyes for awhile?"

She lay back down on the bottom of the skiff, her small body curled into a ball, but she could no more sleep than anyone else. Visibly shivering, she reached for her cloak, which was lying nearby. Her heart was beating uncomfortably loud. Opening her eyes just a crack, she saw Remus looking down at her, obviously trying to see if she really was asleep.

She was finding it very difficult to stop fidgeting with the fringes of her cloak, her hands, and anything that could be fondled with. The mere sighting of Hogwarts had sent a plunging freeze through her body. As her eyes roamed over the aged stone walls, the innumerable turrets and towers, she dived off her seat on the boat and, instead, hid under it. Of course, she soon discovered it was more than cramped down there, so she moved to a more open space. Though she had shut her eyes in a feeble attempt to block out Hogwarts, the formidable appearance of the school and the accompanying feeling of awe kept her mind entranced, and James's constant sniggering didn't help either.

"Will you shut up?" she spat at them, giving up the false pretense of being asleep.

"Why? Disturbing your little nappy?" Sirius taunted. "Is little baby Lily nervous? Is she frightened of the big scary castle?"

"C'mon, quit it," Remus said, sounding unusually impatient. "I'm nervous too, and you've got to be too, right, Sirius?"

"Hell no!" He stretched leisurely, accidentally kicking Lily. "Why would I be nervous? Everybody knows what's going to happen. I'm gonna get sorted into Slytherin, be prefect, Head Boy, everything perfect and expected of a Black, and then when I leave Hogwarts, I'll be all fit to help Lord Voldemort purge the world of Muggles and Mudbl – "

"Shh!" James whispered, tilting his head at Lily.

"Huh?" Sirius asked, his voice still at an unbearably loud tone.

"She's one of…you know…"

"One of _them_?"

"Yes, you moron!"

"ONE OF _THEM_? HERE?"

"Shut up! My God, all of Hogwarts probably heard that, not to mention all of the first years. Well, there goes one year of peace. Great job, mate!"

"But, blimey, one of…she's a – "

"Will you _please_ shut up?" Remus reiterated. "You'll, you know, disturb her and…we can't have her…" The exchanged glances of the three boys that followed signified that they understood what they had to do, and as different as each one of them were – the lord, the rebel, and the outcast – at that moment, they were united under a single purpose, and really, one that would carry them through the rest of their school days.

Sirius then looked away, seeming ill at ease.

The vibrations beneath jolted Lily rudely, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Dazedly, she swiveled around and found herself trapped. Forcing rationality upon her wild thoughts, she told herself it was just a wall – a very large wall of Hogwarts. She had come at last. With a soft grinding noise, the first years disembarked on the grassy slopes that led to the towering oak doors. And past those? What could be there? For the time being, she didn't dare to think about it. Trying to alleviate some of the trepidation, she staunchly fixed her eyes on the back of the gamekeeper's large overcoat, which she could still see through the pack separating them. He had been there to greet the first years at Hogsmeade train station, giving them all a cheery wave. She had found his eccentric accent and his nature oddly comforting.

"Don't be too nervous!" Remus told her soothingly.

"Yeah," Sirius remarked nonchalantly, "we'll catch you if you faint."

"I am _not_ going to faint!"

"Wanna bet?"

"No thank you," she huffed, supremely indifferent.

"Great going, mate," James hissed in a joking manner as she stomped away. "I can tell you are going to be extremely popular with the ladies."

"Of course I will!" Sirius exclaimed, his face turning livid. "By third year, I'll have girls lining up in bloody long queues just to _see_ me, oh, and then _she'll_ see…"

"Why third year?" James laughed. "D'you first need two years to perfect your flirting skills?"

"Calm down, alright?" Remus said. "Lily's a little on edge, and it's natural for people like that to be a little irritable. Take it easy – don't raise your blood pressure before you have to."

"Filthy Mudblood, I'll kill her!"

"Okay, Sirius, that was uncalled for."

"I don't care. She had absolutely no right to talk back to me like that. After all, I'm a Black – "

"And," James cut in, "weren't you saying on the train that you didn't give a damn about your last name, hmm? So are you using it now as your defense?"

Sirius could not find a commensurate rebuttal for this indisputable fact and only stared glumly ahead at the swinging red hair off in the distance. Not wasting anytime, Remus caught up with a stormy Lily.

"He didn't mean it, you know," he said.

"That still doesn't give him any right to insult me," she said in a voice that was smoothed over but still barbed and dangerous.

"He wasn't insulting you."

"He _insulted_ me, Remus, and he's been insulting me, and it gets really annoying!"

"Sirius just, you know, likes to joke around a bit. You'll just have to get used to it."

"But what if I don't want to?" she shot back venomously.

He thought for a while before answering.

"Because sometimes, we have to do things we don't necessarily want to do, but we still have to, right?" he countered. "Like me, for example. I – I almost didn't want to come to Hogwarts."

"Seriously?" she exclaimed, aghast.

"Seriously."

"Why would that be?"

"It's sort of a long story," he said, looking away. "Anyway, that's beside the point. It'll be hard, especially for someone so…"

"Someone so what?"

"Well," he started uncomfortably, "someone so strong-willed…with a short temper to boot."

Cringing, he expected a good verbal lashing from Lily for calling her such, but she only laughed.

"Remus, Remus," she sighed, "I don't think I've ever met anyone so brutally honest in my life."

He raised an eyebrow, about to say something. However, he, Lily, and the rest of the students were stopped just short of the front door. The gamekeeper lifted his massive hand and rapped on it a few times with his knuckles. The hollow throbbing sound of wood made her tremble. Within a few seconds, a witch with a taut and aging face, only further accentuated by the tightly pulled-back hair (black, like James's, Lily thought), appeared in front of them, casting an almost disdainful look at the first years.

"Thank you very much, Hagrid," she sniffed. "I will take them from here; you may head back to your duties. First years, follow me, please."

"Always nice ter help, Minerva," the gamekeeper named Hagrid said, bowing slightly.

Immensely frightened of the green-robed witch, Lily looked pleadingly at him, willing him to make eye contact with her. She didn't want to leave him – his height made him seem especially protective. Amazingly, she caught his eye, his demeanor half apologetic, half optimistic.

"That doesn't help," she muttered to herself as she was led into Hogwarts's vestibule, fit with a sweeping ceiling and candlesticks suspended in midair, their flames dancing perilously.

Despite her overwhelmingly dark thoughts, Lily couldn't resist being awed by the grandeur of the castle. Her drumming heart ceased to beat for a moment so swept away was she by the richness of the Wizarding world, _her_ world.

"Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall for those who do not know yet."

"We all know _you_!" James called out, flashing a smile at her and making many students laugh, though their gaiety was still fringed with unease.

Lily felt extremely out of place. She didn't know the Professor.

"Potter," she said lightly, "I thought I would see you here, but please, do not interrupt. There are those – " her eyes roamed across the crowd, seeming to look for no one in particular, and to Lily's horror, they landed on her " – who do not. Anyway, to continue before Mr. Potter here interrupted. The entire school is already seated in the Great Hall, which is further down this hallway. There, you will be sorted into your Houses, and after that, Hogwarts shall treat you to a delicious welcoming feast. At this time, I would like you to follow me into the Great Hall."

Here we go, Lily told herself, at last relieved of Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes. Here I am at last, the border between two worlds.

"Do you know what you're about to do?" Remus said to her under his breath.

"I believe so," she replied, breathing slowly to calm her palpitating heart. "I read about it in the book they sent me. They're going to 'sort' us all into 'Houses,' which are – hold on, I know this – Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Yes, that's right."

"Hmm, what book did they send you?"

"_The Basic Muggle's Guide to Everything Wizarding_, the updated edition."

"Well, I reckon a lot of people would've liked to have received that book over the summer."

"Why is that?"

"You already know quite a bit, especially for a Mu – I mean, Muggle-born."

"Do I? That book said it would only give me the very basics. Didn't want to spoil the surprise, I guess."

"Take a look at those half-bloods over there."

"Over where?" Lily complained, jumping up and down vainly in order to see them. "What do half-bloods look like?"

"Never mind," Remus muttered, pressing a firm hand down on her shoulder. "Stop hopping around; we're there."

_Blood_, she thought. I hate that word – it's all wizards ever bloody talk about. You think they'd find something else to be obsessed about, like the cinema. They love it so much they've even made words out of it: purebloods, Mudbloods, whatnot. But whatever brooding thoughts Lily had been thinking were dispersed when she walked into the Great Hall. The school's foyer was impressive, she thought, but this is a million times better. Following the lead of many other first years, she arched her neck back and gasped.

"It's the enchanted ceiling!" she heard someone say. "It mirrors the sky right above it."

Enchanted, Lily thought, would be an understatement. To her, it was as if the room had no ceiling, and the walls stretching upward unto infinite heights, the land of sun and clouds and perpetually blue skies. The night was a velvety black, bordering on the deepest shade of violet, a few stray wisps of cloud drifting by and temporarily obscuring the stars, the stars that were always so colorless – were their tints of a creamy yellow, faint blue, or simply white? – yet so dazzling that if all the candles in the school were extinguished, they would provide enough radiance to compensate.

Her head still tilted backwards, she accidentally bumped into the person in front of her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed back, alarming Lily.

"I'm – I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was walk – "

"Shut up!" James said to her, his eyes focused intently on a point in front of him.

Taking his cue, she looked that way as well. Standing on her toes, she could see a tiny little wizard, carrying a wooden stool, dressed in the most eccentric robes she had ever seen hobble onto a raised platform in front of the first years. After setting the stool down, he brandished a ragged hat from behind him and, with all the care in the world, laid it on the stool's seat, as if he was consecrating the piece of furniture. One short bow to the hall later, he left the stage and all of the attention was fixed on the hat. Lily, for one, could not see what was so extraordinary about it. Had she been running the school, the hat would have been thrown away ages ago. To her disbelief, the brim of the hat ripped open and it launched into a song. However, the heat being emitted by the many candles was beginning to take its toll on Lily (along with the growing nausea inside of her), and she became disoriented and dizzy, her head splitting with discomfort and stabs of pain. Her unresponsive ears deflected the hat's words; her eyes shut to block out to throbbing in her head. Only the thundering applause from the students shook her out of her agonizing reverie.

"When I read your name from this roll of parchment," Professor McGonagall announced, Lily barely catching the words, "you will walk onto the stage by way of the stairs to either side, put the hat on, and then sit down on the stool. The Sorting Hat will then pass its judgment as to where you will be sorted, and after it has made its decision, please sit down at your House table." Unrolling a scroll of parchment in her hands, she called out, "Avery, Sebastian!"

The boy Lily had bumped into earlier now swaggered onto the stage, his chestnut colored hair catching the light of the candles. She heard a few shouts of, "GO AVERY!" from a table on the far left and she craned her neck to see it. Above them was draped an emerald green tapestry on which a brilliantly silver snake danced and seemed to be hissing with elation.

"Remus, are those the Slytherins?"

"Indeed," he answered somewhat disdainfully, his eyebrows furrowing.

Lily suddenly remembered that was the house Sirius said he was going to be sorted into. Quite honestly, she couldn't imagine someone as cheerful as him in a crowd that appeared as…well…something _certainly_ seemed off about them. As she struggled to put a word to the Slytherins' bearings, a picture fleeted across her mind and she reached for it, yearning for it. The Slytherins, she thought, look a lot like someone I know…but impossible! I don't know a Slytherin by name. Annoyed, she looked away from the raucous table. Her eyes fell on James, and she noticed his slim body was quite still, though he, too, was looking on Avery with undisguised anticipation. As she felt her stomach lurch again, Lily looked into his serene hazel eyes, not knowing how anyone could remain so at peace, so unaffected and almost apathetic about something so life changing.

That's it.

That's it! she thought. The Slytherins – they're, why, they're practically bored by this insipid ceremony. For me, it's the most exciting and scariest thing I'll ever have to go through, and here they are, acting as if it was just another day, just another day in life. It's like…it's like they know. They _know_ what it is to enjoy life, to indulge in life, to know what it is to be happy and comfortable so they don't have to take anything from the Sorting. They're…satisfied with everything they've already got and really don't care at all for this. Like James, except I'm sure he cares more than they do. Well, if he does, he definitely isn't showing it. The Slytherins – it's as if they're a totally separate class of people…like the First and Second Estates in France…

Fear flooded Lily. If they were truly like the upper class of pre-1789 France, then they would be just as oppressive, just as uncaring for the woes of others, the opposite of compassion, existing only to further their own cause. Dear God, she thought. One-fourth of Hogwarts is going to be made up of self-absorbed idiots. She looked over at Sirius warily. Well, she decided, he's an idiot for sure, but not of that kind. Look, he seems a little bit nervous!

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted, sending shocks through her body.

Yells of all sorts, including rather rude and school-inappropriate comments, erupted from the Slytherin table, and she immediately decided that if the sodding hat put her in _that_ house, she'd throw it in Professor McGonagall's face and storm out of the school. Better to be back with freak-hating Petunia than with people with no sense of restraint. Avery knocked the hat off his head without even the courtesy of placing it back atop the stool and joined his Housemates in celebration, a smug look resting on his face. Lily watched as a piercing gray-eyed student – at least, she assumed he was a student; he looked so very mature – lean over and whisper something in his ear. Grinning sadistically, the first year nodded. Curious, she kept her sight focused on the gray-eyed one and his neatly groomed blond hair. No, it wasn't blond but more of a silvery sheen. Maybe he could teach James how to brush his hair properly, she thought, snickering silently.

Turning away from the Slytherin table, she looked at Professor McGonagall.

"Black, Sirius!"

The thunderous shouts that filled the Great Hall provoked many students to shake their heads in disapproval. Lily, however, clapped her hands over her ears, thinking disbelievingly that the cheers for him were even louder and heart pounding than those for the previous student. Looking up, she saw minute particles of dust drifting from the seemingly limitless ceiling, a most precise measurement of the deafening sounds that threatened to make Hogwarts collapse. Looking mortified, the ingenuous faced Sirius stumbled onto the stage, also clearly alarmed by the unanimously positive response from his House-to-be. The beads of sweat dripping from his forehead were obscured as he, quivering slightly, lifted the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head. Abruptly, the cheers died down and it seemed as if a trance befell the Slytherin table. Heads bowed demurely and eyes cast down, they hardly appeared to be the boisterous noisemakers they were just seconds before. Why, she thought, it's as if they're _worshipping_ him, like he's some sort of god, or maybe he's the priest and the Sorting Hat's a god, and they're waiting for the priest to interpret the god's words.

No one had to wait long for the deity's judgment.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A deathly silence hung in the air; there were no screams of approval, not even scattered applause. Sirius, now having removed the hat, remained on the stage, his pallid face and soft eyes scanning the crowd of students, imploring them for some response. Feeling every bit sympathetic for him and his coldly distant Hogwarts greeting, Lily, too, looked around. There were the Slytherins – many were still stunned but most bore looks of hatred on their faces, their eyes shining like black jewels. There were the Gryffindors – half of them seemed as if they had been badly smacked, and the other half donning condescending looks.

"Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said, her nostrils on the verge of flaring, "the Sorting must continue. Will you please walk to your respective House table?"

"Y-yes, Professor," he managed to croak.

Tripping over the stool, he made his way down to the ethereally quiet Gryffindor table, and found an empty seat. Cautiously, he sat down and then proceeded to bury his face in his arms. A muffled sobbing filled the Hall, and it sat through it, still soundless.

"GO SIRIUS!" James impulsively yelled, catching the entire Hall off guard.

Though he was clapping his hands so enthusiastically it was bordering on painful, his eyes were tightly clenched, trying to allow the tears to subside.

"Mr. Potter?"

The applause ceased.

"Yes, Professor?" he said innocently, looking up, his eyes dry.

"Would it be _possible_ for you to stop causing such a racket? Your professors won't be having a good first impression of you, you know that."

A few good-natured laughs were heard, and this made James flush with pride.

"Well," he began slowly, "then I'll have to work extra hard to fix that, won't I, Professor?"

Someone wearing a delighted grin from the Ravenclaw table punched him lightly on the back and whispered something in his ear, provoking a stifled laugh on James's behalf. Ironing the smile off his face, he turned back to Professor McGonagall, his shoulders back and head raised high.

"Mr. Potter," she said harshly, "that can begin now. See me after the feast please."

"Ouch!" the Ravenclaw said out loud. "She outscored you on that one, Potter."

"Just shut your mouth, will you?" Lily snapped at him, eager for the Sorting to continue, though observing it only deteriorated her uneasy disposition.

Professor McGonagall, too, glared at him reproachfully as if to say, "If you keep up your antics you'll join your friend Potter after all this is over."

"Bones, Edgar!" she announced, her voice still laced with frustration.

Without knowing why, the Slytherins, led by the silver-haired student Lily had been somewhat interested in, began to mock him, calling him horrifying names that she tried to pretend she never heard. _Why are they saying these things about him? _she thought, taken aback by the Slytherins' enthusiastic vehemence. There doesn't seem to be anything – wrong about him. In fact, he looks extremely likable.

"FILTHY HALF-BLOOD!" someone yelled. "LET'S SWITCH YOU AND BLACK!"

Lily whipped around, her lower lip shaking indignantly.

"How dare they call him 'filthy'?" she scoffed. "_They're_ the filthy ones!"

"Be quiet," Remus told her. "Don't say that."

"Why?" she pressed, though in a lower volume. "Don't tell me you agree with what they're saying? You've heard 'em! It's disgusting!"

"Of course I don't, but now isn't the right time to stage a protest. This is the way things have always been. There's no point in questioning them, _especially_ at this very time."

"Yeah? Well, Martin Luther King questioned and protested against what had always been done, and look at what he managed to do!" she said, remembering having read a newspaper article on the American Civil Rights Movement.

"But this Martin Luther King person wasn't a wizard, was he?"

"I give up," Lily huffed, and immediately after she did so, the hat informed the crowd Edgar Bones was to be in Hufflepuff. The table to her right cheered on as the scarlet-faced boy joined their kind, but it was not to the outrageous level of the Slytherins. They look like a pleasant group of people, she thought. I wouldn't mind being in that House.

The next few Sortings or so elicited more jeering from the Slytherins that could not be outdone by the meek (in comparison) response from the other three tables. Not being able to hear any of the Sorting Hat's decisions, Lily threw her arms up in defeat, losing interest in the Sorting. Stomach gurgling, she darkling wondered when this entire ideal would all be over and she could settle down for a full and satisfying meal. At the rate _this_ is going, she thought, it'll be a long night. With no dinner too, she added as an afterthought.

"Remus," she said, "I'm bored."

"How? Your name's almost up."

Wait…

_My name_?

"But, how is it…I thought there were going through people with last names that began with C!"

"Well, they just finished with the D's. You weren't paying attention?"

"Er, no," Lily tried to say in an offhand way.

"Shh, they're calling the next name! It might be you – I wouldn't bet on there being many E's."

Dear Lord, she thought, _me_? But…but I'm not ready for this! I'm not ready for it at _all_! Oh, God, oh, God, why do I have to get nervous now? Technically, I've been nervous since…I forget, really, but –

"Estelle, Helen!"

Simultaneously overtaken by relief and bracing herself for further noise from the Slytherins (or any other table at that), the rolling sound of murmuring filled the Hall. Students were jabbering to their peers in hushed tones, and Lily immediately realized that something had gone wrong. It didn't take long for her to learn what.

"Bloody hell!" James whispered, the blood drained out of his face. "A Muggle-born! Here! Now! In Hogwarts!"

Other first years nodded enthusiastically and gaped onward as Helen strode up to the Sorting Hat. She was of small build, her perfectly straight chocolate brown hair trailing down her back. Her face was trying to fix itself into more placid lines as if to say to the Hall, "Hah, so much for your little gossip!" but was failing dreadfully. _A Mudblood_.

Is this then, Lily thought, what it will be like when I walk up there? An entire room full for people just _staring _at me because I'm norm – er, a Muggle? No, I'm not a Muggle. A Mudblood – that's what they call me. _A Mudblood_. Muddy blood, right? That's probably where they got it from. There will be no one and nothing to welcome me but stares and odd looks. Maybe even Remus won't like me anymore and everything that I wanted and thought would really happen won't. And it'll just be like I was back at home: a total and complete freak, hated and suspected – of _what_? – by all.

Thus were her thoughts as she caught something that sounded remarkably like "Evans" and was goaded forward by a jab in the back. As her feet automatically carried her forward, she sent a fearful look at Remus, one that one only wears in the most despairing of circumstances. _Remus, don't let me go…don't let me go to my death_.

Oh, shut up, she told herself. They aren't going to stone you up there, though maybe the Slytherins might –

_No_! Positive thinking, remember? Right, now think positive –

She reached the stool. She willed herself to just plop the hat on and get it over with – the hanging silence, the dirty looks – but she couldn't respond. Her mind was reduced to nothing, a blank slate, and Lily found herself pivoting slowly to face the potential hostile student body of Hogwarts. Remus was mouthing, "Sit down! Sit down!" but she was not looking for him. This is it, she thought. This is what I've damned myself into doing: standing in front all these people who might as well be holding torches and pitchforks and making a complete idiot at myself all the while being teased. But it isn't teasing. It's something so much deeper, so much worse, and it hurts. She found her vision wandering over to Helen, the latest victim of this merciless mob, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table being shunned by her fellow Housemates, all stony faced. She panned across the Great Hall, soaking in its magnificence, basking in its warmth, and closed her eyes. Her body surrendered to its allure, its beckoning for her to join in, to join Hogwarts.

Then she opened her eyes, her lids rising after what seemed like an interminably long nap.

The first person she noticed was the silver-haired Slytherin. He was watching Lily with an amused expression but one full of impudence all the same. Tempted to slap him, she had to settle with merely glaring back. He spoke.

"Dear Lord," he said loudly so that everyone in the Hall could hear him, "not _another_ Mudblood? Goodness, these people just don't know what to do, do they?"

All four tables were consumed with laughter, and in dismay Lily swung her head around and looked at the professor's tables. To her revulsion, many of _them_, too, were quickly trying to smother their mirth. There was only one sitting there that kept his face impassive. She didn't know him, and he didn't know her (save for her name, which included her cursed last name), but there was something about his partly regal demeanor (and long silver beard) that assured Lily he did not sympathize but gently pushed her to do what she had to do and to complete it with an aura of elegance. It struck her: _he's the headmaster. He's the one who let me in and let me be mocked not just in front of everyone but by everyone_.

She found that she could harbor no resentment for him though. Tell me what to do, she implore silently.

He looked back at her, his eyes twinkling.

Cautiously, she placed the Sorting Hat on her head and sat down, blessed not to be able to be seen by the crowd.

_Ah, finally_, it spoke to her. _I was beginning to wonder if that was the end of everyone. What a terribly small class that will be! I thought._

Should I talk back to it? Lily thought.

_Oh, be free to do so! I'm here to divulge in all of your inner secrets and personality traits, even those you didn't know you had._

Umm…

_Don't worry at all! It's no work on your behalf. _I'm _the thinking cap, remember? So, let's see, another Muggle-born, eh? Hmm, we seem to be having a lot of those this year._

Two? Two is a lot?

_We usually don't have any! But, anyway, that's digressing. Well, this is going to be a tough decision. There's definitely that drive to prove yourself, but not in the accepted way._

"Accepted" way? What's what supposed to mean?

_Oh, just the way most people would._

I want to _prove_ myself?

_Yes! Why, it's so outstanding on your list of credentials I can't believe I didn't see it the moment you put me on! Very smart and intelligent, no doubt, yes, that will take you far if you use it correctly. Ravenclaw? I shouldn't think so. Personally, I never liked Rowena much – _

Wait, you mean Rowena Ravenclaw? The witch who founded the House of Ravenclaw?

_Bravo! You're even smarter than what I had first expected!_

You knew Rowena Ravenclaw? But…she was one of the Founders of Hogwarts. There's no way you could have known her…unless…unless…

_I was there when she was alive?_

My God!

_There, now, everyone knows I'm Godric Gryffindor. Well, not physically, but still._

Huh, I certainly did not –

_Enough! Sorry, dear girl, to cut you off, but there are people waiting for you to be done. Albus – _

Who's that?

_Gracious, do these questions never stop coming? Anyway, I am sure he would love what I'm going to do with you, and it would undoubtedly be a credit for me as well. Perhaps not in the short term…but – _

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Swiping the Sorting Hat off of her, she sprinted to the Gryffindor Table and sat next down next to Sirius, her breaths coming in heaves. Now that it was over, she was entirely indifferent to the fact she was getting hisses instead of cheers, shifty glances instead of approving eyes.

"That took forever," Sirius said under his breath as the next unfortunate students took the stage.

"Did it?" Lily trilled in a high voice, still recuperating from the conversation she had with the Sorting Hat – or, more appropriately, Godric Gryffindor.

"Most people get their Sortings done in less than thirty seconds. Yours took at _least_ two minutes. Must be a school record or something," he said casually, but the dark glint in his eyes betrayed him; clearly, the two of them were still avoiding each other slightly.

She couldn't find a reply for that (though it was tempting to begin a sparring of words) nor did she have the concentration to do so. Her thoughts were still dwelled upon her Sorting.

"_There's definitely that drive to prove yourself_…" "_Very smart and intelligent…that will take you far if you use it correctly…_" All of the enigmatic phrases the Sorting Hat had spoken left Lily in a terrible quandary. Half of what it (he?) had said registered as meaningless and had frightened as well as confused her. Firstly, could a hat – albeit one with wizard's spirit inhabiting it – really read so much of her inner self, more than what she knew of? Then, of course, there was what was actually said. She supposed, though, that as the year wore on she would learn what the Sorting Hat's almost prophetic words meant.

So deep she was in her thoughts that Lily didn't see Remus crash down beside her, his face shining and showing the most expression she had ever seen it show.

"Oh – your Sorting!" Lily moaned. "I forgot! I wasn't watching. Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, Remus, I'm really _really_ sorry."

"Understandable," he said breathlessly. "After how long yours took, it's no wonder…but anyway, my parents are going to be so surprised! Gryffindor! Of all the Houses, I thought, and they thought, I had the smallest chance of getting into this one, and look at where I am. Gryffindor! That's mad!"

"That's great! I'm really happy for you."

"I still can't believe it. I want to say the Sorting was somehow rigged, but I couldn't. The Sorting Hat is always right. _Always_."

So, Lily thought, it will be right about me as well?

"And James?" she asked. "Has he collapsed of anxiety yet?"

"Of course not," he replied delicately. "If anything, he would jump up on stage and grab the Sorting Hat and put it on his own head. Professor McGonagall keeps on sending him looks, though. Don't think she's too pleased with him. He still has to see her afterwards, right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Well, I feel bad for him." Remus's voice dropped to a lower register. "I've heard she isn't all that lenient with misbehaving first years. Imagine if he was sorted into Gryffindor. Professor McGonagall's the head of our House!"

Lily giggled. "Imagine that…"

"He's going to be in Gryffindor, alright," Sirius interrupted smoothly as if he had been conversing with them all along. "It's in his blood."

"Yeah?" Remus retorted, unusually stinging. "What about yours?"

The color drained out of Sirius's face, his eyes glittering ferociously.

"What did you say, _half-blood_?"

"Guys," Lily complained, "could you be quiet? I want to watch the Sorting now." Hah, she thought, like I really want to. For her, watching the first years go through the Sorting was like reliving the ordeal again…and again…and again, a succession of never-ending bouts of nausea and headache. She had only said that to break up the brewing rancor between Remus and Sirius, though God knows how that even began. "It always seems that whenever the word 'blood' is brought up, so is some kind of argument," she mused softly to herself.

"Hmm? What did you say?"

"Nothing, Remus," she stated a little too loud. "I was just wondering, you know, when the feast will begin. I'm bloody starving."

"So is everyone else," he groaned, grasping his stomach.

Feeling as if she was going to pass out due to hunger, Lily kept her attention on the Sorting long enough to see James hop down to the Gryffindor table, his face victorious. Curious, she watched on as Sirius congratulated him. His smile and praise were genuine, there was no doubt about that, but she somehow sensed that there was something stirring within Sirius, something that wanted to give James a good kick in the –

"Snape, Severus!" Professor McGonagall said. "After this, the feast will begin."

Shoulders hunched slightly forward, Severus shuffled his way to the Sorting Hat, and a mere moment later, he was on his way to the Slytherin table. Lily felt a looming tension break. The food was coming.

It was all over. There was no more to fear.

"Oh, no," she griped, staring on in annoyance as the headmaster stood up, lightly clanging his fork against the side of his goblet for silence. "I want to eat!"

"Students, faculty members," he began, his face warm, "welcome to yet another year at Hogwarts. New additions – our first years – " His spectacles turned to Lily " – may you have a wonderful stay this year and for the next six years to come. For those who do not know me, my name is Albus Dumbledore – "

"Albus!" Lily murmured, sinking back into the myriad of thoughts occupying her mind.

" – and if I had had the choice, I would continue to bore you to insanity with my speech…but not to worry. I shall honor all of your stomachs' wishes. Let the feast begin!"

And just like magic, mounds upon mounds of food appeared from literally nowhere, heaping themselves upon the tables' surfaces. Lily could almost hear the tables groan with the weight. _Food_, she thought, savoring the imaginary taste of roasted chicken in her mouth and the sizzling juices swimming down her throat, and begin piling random helpings onto her plate.

"Mm, dis i' blurry good," she managed to say through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Lily," James preached solemnly, evoking much laughter from Sirius, "didn't you mother ever teach you not to speak when your mouth is full?"

"Of course not," a fellow student huffed. "She's a Mudblood, and _they_ don't have anything called manners."

Her blood chilled, the light of the night dimmed, and the mashed potatoes suddenly tasted so revolting she wanted to choke it back out. No, she urged herself. Don't let that sort of person ruin it for you. Just because _one_ Gryffindor thinks like that doesn't mean the others will.

"It seems they've found a new nickname for me already," she said coolly.

"And, trust me, it'll stick," Remus replied sympathetically.

"Oh, that does it!" she spat, throwing down her fork and standing up (though being so short and the hall so loud, no one noticed). "What's wrong with being of Mug – "

Sirius threw a restraining arm around her shoulders and threateningly pushed her back into her seat.

"Shut _up_!" he shushed. "We don't need the whole freaking school knowing that you're…" Remus sent him a subtle but reproachful look, and Sirius meekly continued at a much lower volume "…that you're not like us."

"Why would that be?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged glances?

"Hey, would you look at that?" James exclaimed, pointing his finger at the wall he was sitting opposite to. "Ghosts!"

Half of Lily wanted to shake him by his shoulders and scream into his face, "THERE – IS – NO – SUCH – THING – AS – GHOSTS!" but now that she was actually in Hogwarts and her Muggle rationality was being infiltrated by that of the Wizarding world, her doubt was ephemeral and just that. The pearly and translucent specters glided down to the tables, waving their wispy hands at students they were already acquainted with. A particularly fat-looking one was whispering something into the ear of another, vainly trying to make him change his brooding expression. One landed on the Gryffindor's plate of smoked salmon but, unsurprisingly, left no imprint on the food.

"So, have we our new batch of first years?" he said, his smile bright. "Ah, there you are. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sir Nicholas – "

"Nearly Headless Nick?" James butted in. "I know you, well, I've heard of you. My dad talks about you _all_ the time, but he just calls you Nick."

"Your dad?"

"He was in Gryffindor. And Head Boy, Prefect, Quidditch Captain, everything someone would want to be," he continued, though sounding somewhat spiteful.

"Yes, that would be a lot to live up to, wouldn't it?" Nick chortled. "Good luck with that…wait. You aren't Roman Potter's son, are you?"

"That would be me," James groaned, extending a hand. "He always told me never to shake hands with a ghost, but I fear that wouldn't be polite. The name's James Potter."

"James is a good name," Nick remarked. "Very strong, very good. Your old man'll have to come back to Hogwarts if he'll not be outdone by his son." Sulking, Lily saw him glower with pride. "Now, enough with formalities. Have you tried this pastry yet? It's simply marvelous, though – of course – I haven't eaten in hundreds of years. What a pity; I can almost taste it."

"_Suck up_," Sirius said flatly as Nick floated away, "using family connections like that."

"And what about you?" James swiftly replied, reaching for the pasty Nick had recommended.

"Well, clearly it didn't work with the Sorting Hat, did it?" Sirius chuckled.

"Apparently not! And I would have been pretty ticked if it did."

Lily, on the other hand, was growing increasingly drowsy. Excessive amounts of food often have such an enchanting effect on people's minds, a bit like alcohol except the sensation is much more filling. When Nick sat down next to her, however, her dreams of sleep instantly evaporated. She smiled at him, but his face was clouded and dark.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You wouldn't happen to be Evans, would you?"

"Yes, that's me. Lily Evans."

She offered him a hand but he didn't take it. On the contrary, he seemed to shrink away from her, but maybe that was just her imagination. Actually, now that she thought about it, everyone but Remus was giving her a wide berth. Even James and Sirius were acting as if they could not see her.

"Would you like to know," he started, obviously sounding quite pained, "how things are going to work, since, er, you're not that familiar with it all?"

"That would help very much," she tried to answer in her sweetest voice.

I ought to ask James how he brown-noses so well, she thought, disgruntled.

"Okay, then. We've got the four Houses: Gryffindor – oh, by the way, I am your House ghost – Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. The students aren't just categorized that way based on your personality, but this system is also in place to breed a little friendly competition, though in the past few years, it hasn't been exactly 'friendly.' Still, it's not so violent," he hastily added upon seeing Lily's mortified expression. "Er, right. Whenever a student does something particularly commendable, a professor will award his or her house points. Conversely, if a student does something that he or she shouldn't have done, then a professor will take _off_ points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded with a trophy. It's a big honor to win. Gryffindor lost to Slytherin last year; hopefully we'll redeem ourselves this time around!"

She nodded in understanding, and Nick went off to chat with a nearby prefect. Mournfully, she watched his transparent form as it floated away, feeling the hollowness return. She had certainly eaten her portion of the food, and now her head ached for the support of a fluffy down pillow beneath it. Since such a thing wasn't present, a table would have to suffice…

_The boundless sky stretched out around her, the sun bathing her in warmth, the breeze running across her skin. Never had she seen such a glorious day. There was not a cloud obscuring the light, but then the warmth was stolen from her and the chill leaped upon her, strangling her in its grasp. She wrenched her eyes open: a menacing shape was slowly moving toward her, and she tried to flee before it could get her. As it neared, she noticed a distinct rip on its side – the Sorting Hat. It landed over her, and she could see nothing, nothing but a black as boundless as the sky had once been._

"Wake up!"

_Her arms groped about in the darkness, trying to hold onto something for support, but there was nothing…_

A sharp jab awakened her.

"Finally! First years…" Struggling to her feet, she followed the prefect who had awoken her out of the emptying Great Hall. "Okay, all of your Housemates are a little farther on since they didn't fall asleep at the table. Turn left two corridors down and then go up one floor. Go and join them. I'm supposed to stand here and make sure no one like you gets lost."

Still too tired to disagree, Lily stumbled dazedly in the direction the prefect had pointed out. Hmm, two corridors down? she thought. Here's one, two –

She had hardly turned her heel when she was roughly pushed against the stone wall, her head nearly splitting in two. Her sleepiness disappeared, and all she could feel was fear, cold and impenetrable fear, pervading her entire body as she stood, shock still, looking into an unforgiving face. Discretely, her eyes roamed over him, his tall form, flowing robes, and hard-set gray eyes. And the silver hair, a blond so light it was almost no blond at all.

Then Lily knew him. He was the Slytherin that momentarily captivated her attention, and here he was, towering over her. If it was at all possible, she shrank even more against the wall.

"So," he drawled carelessly, "Lily…_Evans_. What an interesting name." She willed herself to remain silent. "Are you finding Hogwarts to your liking?" Thoroughly confused, she wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question. He seemed to expect a quick answer from her, but under his stare, she could do no more than keep her jaw clenched tightly, her eyes fixed on his. "Oh, not good enough for your Mudblood tastes, I suppose."

In an instant, her pride rose up and spoke for her. "It's good enough!"

A throbbing pain shot across her cheek and she tumbled to the floor. Tears formed in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away before he could see and further ridicule her. Paralyzed, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he slowly, threateningly approached her, a wand pointed straight at her. And she knew it. She knew what was going to happen.

He's going to kill me, Lily thought, her head spinning, and I'm going to die right here, right now, in the middle of a hallway in a school I've only been in for a few hours. He's going to bloody kill me!

But he only stood there. His glare was riveting. Slowly, he bent down, placing the tip of the wand near the base of her neck.

"What a beautiful girl you are," he said, half teasingly. "It would be a shame to kill someone…like you." He raised a hand and ran it through her hair, twisting its strands around his sure and steady fingers. Stop it, stop it! she screamed silently. Don't touch me! In all of the books she had ever read that involved romance, this was something to be enjoyed, to feel a man's touch, but Lily could not enjoy it. His stroking was utterly revolting, spreading poison through her. She insolently turned her head away, knowing how dearly she would pay for not being his whore. Almost reluctantly, he pulled back, but his face was still fixed in lines of amusement. He broke out in harsh laughter, his loose hair swaying. "Oh, God, you think I'm going to shag you in the middle of the school?" he asked. "A little full of yourself, aren't you?" Brusquely pulling her to her feet, his vice-like grasp cutting into her skin, she let out a moan of pain.

"Yes, you are beautiful, I'll give you that, but your looks are only a deception. Under your pretty self you're worthless, worthless and a shame to us all." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "I'm warning you, Mudblood. We'll be watching, _all_ of us. I don't know how you managed to worm your way here, but we'll make sure you'll go no further."

Storing his wand within his robes, he released her and strode away. He didn't go more than two steps before he pivoted, looking back at her. It was then Lily realized the full extent of his intimidating presence. Every part of him was impeccably built as if each part of him had first been carefully examined before being put together to create _him_. Closing her eyes, she could still sense him, standing nearby.

"My name is Lucius Malfoy," he said at last. "You'll remember that, won't you?"


	6. A Fireplace Discussion

**Chapter Six: A Fireplace Discussion**

Holding her breath and her body tense, Lily waited until that Lucius Malfoy person's footsteps could not longer be heard. As they echoed away, she felt her limbs almost melt into the floor, though she had done nothing particularly exhausting. Her head was awhirl…she couldn't stand any longer, his teasing face mocking her…

Is there really anything weird about me? she thought. I don't look any different, and if only that Lucius guy didn't know my last name, then he wouldn't have been able to tell me apart from any…any person they think is normal, I guess. God, why does my name matter so much, especially my last name, which I have no control over anyway? It doesn't tell people a thing about me, so why does Lucius or anyone else care?

"Hey, Lil!" Someone was calling for her. Probably to make fun of me again, she thought venomously. She looked up; it was only James.

"What do you want?" she asked, wondering why he, of all people – a Pureblood (she still wasn't sure what it was, but it clearly commanded a lot of respect)! – would be wandering the halls looking for her, a Mudblood.

"Well, you never came up to the Gryffindor Tower and none of those stupid prefects noticed either, so Remus asked me to go and look for you. God, this place is so weird at night. The candles are so dim it's scary, and I swear I passed a few ghosts on my way here."

"You know your way around _already_? Hogwarts looked so big from the outside."

"And it's big on the inside too. My dad told me how the school's mapped out," James said with a touch of smugness.

"Oh, I see," she said lightly.

"So…come on then! I don't want McGonagall to catch me in the halls – technically, I'm supposed to be asleep," he whispered, his eyes furtively darting around as if the strict professor was about to appear past the next turn. "We're, uh, not exactly on good terms…already."

"That's right! You had to see her after the feast, didn't you?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't fun."

"What did she do?"

"Just told me I was a troublemaker, that I should lose points, and so on."

"So did you? I mean, lose points for Gryffindor?"

"I told her that when she told me to see her after feast, I hadn't been Sorted yet, I wasn't in any House, and that way, I shouldn't have to lose any points. Thank God it worked, but I don't think she likes me much. Oh, well. I've got a whole year to redeem myself." He grinned. "I don't think I want to, though."

Being lead by James through a labyrinth of staircases and passages, Lily thought she would never be able to find her way around. But that might have been because she was still dwelling on her encounter with Lucius and his threat. With someone as imposing as him lurking over her day after day, she wasn't sure if she could ever do anything. Half-wishing James would continue talking to distract her, she marched on in silence.

"Alright," he said abruptly at long length. "This – " He fancifully gestured to a portrait of a snoring and quite rotund witch " – is the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. What a shame she's asleep. She's really fun to talk to! Ah, never mind. Anyway, in order to get in, you've got to say the password. Ours is 'Humbug' for some reason."

A loud creak sent Lily shrieking.

"Goodness, darling! My hinges really must be oiled, don't they?" the portrait said, but the portrait was no longer there. Instead, it had swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room. "It's a bit late to be out, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," she said sincerely, hoping that she wouldn't have to bump into Lucius or any mean-spirited Slytherin in the middle of a hallway ever again.

"Not a problem. Well, get along, then! Even paintings have got to sleep."

"Sorry, ma'am," James said soothingly, bowing ridiculously low.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, you!" she laughed. Sending him a surreptitious little wink, she returned to her original position after letting the two students to pass.

"Why did she move out of the way like that?" Lily asked once they were in the confines of the common room. "I mean, neither of us said the password."

"Actually, I did. I guess when I was telling it to you, the Fat Lady, that's the portrait, she heard it and did as she always does when she hears the password."

A slowly dimming fire was still crackling merrily in the corning, even at such a late hour. The shadows it cast about the room danced and twirled about, giving off a sort of welcoming feeling that Lily never felt when around a fireplace. In the low light, she could still see the lush redness of the plush couches that lined the room and the gleam of oak table set in the middle of the room. Stretching and yawning, all that was on her mind was sleep, a deep and blissful sleep –

"Lily!" A dark figure leapt up from a nearby couch. "You're back! Where were you?"

Remus.

As she saw his face, lined with concern, everything rushed back to her, weighing her mind down with matters she wished would leave her forever: the Sorting, the Slytherins' obnoxious behavior, Lucius…oh, everything! Everything! Hogwarts! She wanted that to be erased, that of all things, for it was the root of all that had gone wrong, a deception that had stealthily persuaded her to abandon one life for another.

Allowing a wry and pained chuckle to escape her, Lily realized she had never really said _that_ word.

"Mudblood," she whispered, ignoring his question and feeling its syllables caress her lips and tongue, only to find that it only left a stinging burn.

"Oh, God," Remus moaned. "Don't say that word. And where were you?"

"Why?" she said in that same apathetic tone, yet again avoiding the question.

"Because." He paused. "You just don't."

"Everyone else does."

Everyone else, she thought blankly, oblivious to the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. Everyone else. Right, that's how it always is, right? It's always everyone else and me. Why isn't there ever anyone to help me and to tell me that I'm right? Like at my old school, and now here, at my new school. No, it's not even _my_ school. It doesn't belong to me, and I don't belong to it.

Her sight a bit hazy, she made her way over to the couch directly in front of the fire, submitting to her mental exhaustion and falling onto its buoyant surface. The velvety hairs brushed up against her cheek, the fire emitted waves of heat, but it was all cold, an ever-shrinking shroud of isolation and loneliness, lonely because of something she couldn't control, lonely because…

"Mudblood," she said again, now consciously feeling the repugnance and disdain of the word, not understanding how anyone could say that word without experiencing a racking guilt and shame.

"Lily?" Remus was next to her, and James sitting nearby, feigning interest in a hanging tapestry on the opposite wall.

"What?" she sniffled, curling herself into a shaking ball wracked with sobs.

"What's wrong?"

"You don't know what's wrong?" she shrieked incredulously, losing control of her immense emotion. "_You don't know what's wrong?_ Okay, I'll tell you then! First, some idiotic moron of a headmaster sends me a letter, asking me to come to this school, all the while knowing that because I'm a _Mudblood_, I'm going to be made fun of until I bloody leave the school! Then you don't tell me anything, James – " She shot the poor boy a scathing look " – doesn't tell me anything, or Sirius, or the prefects, or the professors! Oh, and while I'm on the professors, did you see them? Half of them were laughing at me. My own teachers, laughing as I was being Sorted!"

"I know, I know," he spoke, deadly calm, laying a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "I already knew that. It's all my fault."

"Your fault? It wasn't your fault that I have Muggle parents, it wasn't your fault that the whole blasted school thinks I'm completely stupid because I haven't been around magic my whole life, and it wasn't your fault…you didn't _do_ anything!"

"It _is_ my fault, Lily." In the short time that they had been acquainted, she had never seen his face so grave nor adamant. Instead of arguing back, she merely shrugged her shoulders. Remus seemed to have taken it as an impetus to explain his mistakes. "You know the saying 'Ignorance is bliss'? Well, see, I basically lied to you."

Lily's faced turned pallid, her skin almost translucent by the firelight. "You didn't," she croaked, not wanting to believe that the one person she trusted had only been a fake, an illusion.

"Well, I didn't _directly_ lie to you. That day in Diagon Alley, when we bought our supplies together, I think I gave you the impression that the Wizarding world is almost exactly the same as the Muggle world except for the fact that we can wave wands around and perform spells. Or if I didn't give you that impression, then you got it from somewhere else." Thinking of _The Basic Muggle's Guide to Everything Wizarding_ and the placid face of the headmaster, it was very difficult for Lily not to beat the old man senseless. "You had to have noticed somewhere along the line that things in the Wizarding world are just a little off. Like remember in Gringotts and that application form?"

"The word 'Mudblood' was on it," she muttered hoarsely.

"You know what that means?" Remus ventured nervously.

"Means I'm not like everyone else," Lily remarked ruefully, eyes fixed on the floor.He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is going to be harder than I thought," he said.

"What d'you mean?"

"Everything. I've got to explain everything; there's no other way to do it. I own you this explanation. It's the only way you'll ever be able to feel comfortable in the Wizarding world." Through her tears, Lily gave him a look of disbelief, and she wondered if she would ever be "comfortable," as Remus had said, in a world that unabashedly and disdainfully hated her. "Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm being serious. The key to understanding the Wizarding world is to understand its history. You like history, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she admitted, not wanting to know how dark this sort of history would turn out to be.

"Then it's storytelling time, Lily. But just a quick warning: I can't guarantee that I've got _all_ the details because I'm just a Half-blood. People like me don't put too much of an emphasis on the past."

"I'll fill those missing details in, if there are any," James volunteered graciously, for once keeping the look-here-I'm-a-Pureblood tone out of his voice.

"Right. Thanks, James. All right…where to start? Well, wizards and magic have been around for just as long as Muggles, even back in those cavemen days. Unlike today, we lived together. You know those early inventions that Muggles supposedly created? The wheel and fire – we were the ones that came up with them, and we ran the early civilizations, the early government…pretty much the whole world. Under cover, though. No one was stupid enough to stand in the middle of the street waving a wand. So some separation was necessary, but not like it is today.

"And everyone was equal. It didn't matter if someone was of complete magical parentage or was just born into it like you. All kinds of wizards were friends, and we were still on good terms with Muggles for probably the only time in history

"However, keep in mind that there were _always_ wizards that thought living so close with Muggles was a bad thing, and they didn't like at all the intermarrying between Muggles and Wizards. That's the one thing. Then a guy named Jesus of Nazareth came along – "

" – and you'd better watch your bloody mouth," Lily finished for him, she herself being proudly Lutheran.

"Okay, I will! I swear I wasn't going to say anything, you know, bad. Anyway, Christianity was born and it, no offense, doesn't have the greatest view of those old superstitions."

"They would be…" she mulled quietly to herself, fearing what the answer might be.

"Exactly. See, even if we _were_ trying to keep low about things, which we were, the Muggles obviously noticed there was something weird about us, and they just couldn't put a word to it was all. Little by little, magic was being abused. Power-hungry wizards promised Muggles that by using their magic, they could make them live forever and those sorts of things. 'Course, they only did it for the money, but some did become pretty famous. This was at the time of the Roman Empire, and when Christian leaders began speaking out against false ways to salvation…"

James ran a finger across his throat in one swift and violent motion, and Lily nodded in shocked comprehension.

"Yeah, so you can pretty much guess what happened – basically, the Muggles took up the Christian cause and killed any wizard they could find in any way they could think of. Sometimes, they accidentally killed _other_ Muggles they accused of 'knowing' magic, the whole thing got so out of hand."

"The Middle Ages?" Lily asked, remember how devoutly Christian people were during that time.

"Uh-huh. It was probably the most important time period for the Wizarding world. First, you've got wizards dying all over the place, but there was also a good thing that came out of it. It was the feeling that we all were magical people and we all had to work together if we were going to survive the crazy doings of the Muggles. Almost everyone figured the best way to do that was to separate completely from them and to gradually erase their memories of wizardry and magic. That way, magical and non-magical people would be able to live on in peace. However, remember the people I mentioned earlier that always wanted to live separately from Muggles? Well, now, their feelings weren't very friendly towards them, blaming them for everything bad that had happened to the Wizarding world."

"I wonder who those people were," said James sarcastically.

Despite her limited (but growing) knowledge of the Wizarding world and its people, Lily somehow knew. "The Blacks," she blurted out.

"As well as the Lestranges, Averys, and the Malfoys, to name a few," James filled in for her, ticking the prestigious family names off his fingers.

"What about you, I mean, your family? I thought you were a pureblood – "

"I never said those families were Pureblood, did I?

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be, because you're right. Yeah, I'm a stuck up little Pureblood brat, supposedly, but no, the Potters never spoke out against Muggles. Okay, maybe we never spoke out _for_ them, but we certainly didn't go parading around blasting the hell out of every Muggle we saw. I should know; my parents make that point everyday over the dinner table."

"Remus," Lily complained, "I still don't even know what exactly what Pureblood and Half-bloods and…" She paused for a while before saying the word " – Mudbloods are. I've only got a vague idea."

"Just wait a little, all right? Don't worry, I will explain what they mean. Just let me get through the story first.

"Luckily, those families were in the minority – most wizards, even at that time, had some Muggle parentage in them. This was when the Ministry of Magic was set up. Lily, the goal of the Wizarding world, as a whole, is to protect magic and making sure it doesn't die out because that almost happened during the Middle Ages. Hogwarts was set up during the Middle Ages because it was no longer safe to teach children magic at home, where any passer-by could see. Later on, the Ministry finally began inspecting every house owned by a Wizarding family and cast Unplottable Charms and that sort of thing on them.

"It took maybe a century or two for both worlds to separate, but by the Renaissance, the situation was pretty close to what it is today."

"So you're saying, then, that the Wizarding world hasn't changed since the 1400s?" Lily exclaimed, aghast.

"Er, not really. What I meant to say was that the situation between wizards and Muggles was pretty much the same."

"Oh, I get it."

"Now, on the Pureblood's list of priorities, the first thing's done. Get rid of the Muggles. The next thing to do was to get rid of all Muggle influences, and that would mean using a different currency, wearing different clothing, but most importantly, to get rid of those who were brought up in a Muggle environment and then joined the Wizarding community because they were born with the gift of magic."

"Like me," Lily said slowly. "People like me."

"Yeah…sadly."

"Hmph, and _you_ said the Wizarding world hasn't changed…"

"Lily," James cut her off, "can you just let the guy finish?"

Glowering, she allowed him to continue.

"At first, no one listened to the Blacks and the Malfoys. Sure, they were powerful, but popular opinion went against them. The population of wizards had dropped during the Middle Ages and it was still on the rebound, and for many people, it was, above all, most important to increase the number of wizards.

"This made all the powerful families very angry, and using their power, they managed to convince almost everyone that it was better to have a smaller but pure Wizarding community than a large one but with some traces of Muggle-ness. They unleashed this huge campaign to oppress Muggle-born wizards, coming up with words like Pureblood, Half-blood, and…God, I don't want to say the word."

"It's okay, Remus. I know what you mean."

"Now that a lot of people believed in their cause, they were elected into the higher levels of government, and a lot of anti-Muggle-born laws were passed. Luckily, as time went on, most of the laws were repealed." Sighing heavily, Remus sank down on the couch, looking supremely exhausted and worn. "James," he said at last, "could you take it from here?"

"Sure, mate. The laws and crap were gone, but the anti-Muggle feeling still existed, and it carries on through today, largely due to the fact there's this goon who calls himself Lord Voldemort that's going around, gathering supporters."

"And I'm guessing this Lord Voldemort wants to rid the world of filthy little Mudbloods?" Lily yelled violently, the force in her tone taking even herself by surprise.

"Pretty much. His supporters are, who would have guessed, those proud Pureblood families."

"God, what sort of _damn_ place is this?" Furious, she impulsively gave the back of the couch a good punch. "Why didn't anyone tell me it was so backward? I thought…it's not fair! And what kind of sick person _is_ this Voldemort? _Why_? Why do they have to feel that way, that I'm just not good enough?"

It all made sense now: the jeering Slytherins, the horrified/supercilious reaction when she was called up to be Sorted…but Lily still could not understand why Remus could have just told her this beforehand, before she had to endure such a trial, battling the greatest opposition in the world, prejudice, with the weakest weapon in her armory, ignorance, only because she had nothing else with which to fight, nothing else with which to shield herself. Her mum had always told her that knowledge was power (and she was sure some other famous person in history had said that as well) and that to be kept uninformed and unaware was the cruelest torture any person could endure. And here she had been, skipping around, her aura relatively carefree, actually thinking she would be accepted, that she would be more loved in this world than in the other one…

Ignorance is not bliss, Lily thought sorrowfully. Why couldn't you have just told me?

Yet if he had told me, she reasoned, would I have been able to take it? God knows I would've just…exploded when he did. Don't blame him for anything because all he tried to do was to make you happy. He did nothing.

He didn't make me happy! Ignorance is not happiness! I'd rather have known before I made a total idiot out of myself.

Yes, you were happy. Admit it, you _were_ happy, even if it was for just a short time.

And as she looked into the dark and trying eyes of Remus, radiating nothing but compassion, she felt it fall apart – the perfect Wizarding world she had constructed in her mind since receiving the letter, the perfect Wizarding world that she had clung onto no matter how unlikely it seemed, the perfect Wizarding world that was no more and never was or had been. It fleeted across her mind, now nothing but an infinite void, the image of a happy Lily in a happy world. Oh, how faraway that seemed…

The tears that then tumbled out of her eyes were not those of grief but of deep remorse and shame, shamed that she had allowed herself to be so carried away by her fantastic images and creations that she, in return, had been blind to what was so painfully clear.

"Well, mate," James said uncertainly, standing up and yawning, "it's late and I'm off to bed. Goodnight, then."

Remus murmured an almost inaudible, "G'night," as he turned to Lily, who had proceeded to bury her tear-streaked face in her hands. "Lily?" She sniffled in reply. "The girls' dormitory is off to that side…you should probably go to sleep now," he mumbled, "because I'm pretty sure you're as tired as I am."

"No, Remus! Don't go." He can't leave, she thought despairingly. Then there'll be no one left for me. "Can you stay here with me?"

Reluctantly, he settled back down on the couch, watching onward as Lily placed her head on the armrest, her tears illuminated by the dying fire. She fell asleep almost immediately, but he could do no more than stare at random portraits (also in the midst of resting). With a heave, he walked over to Lily, her face now ethereally calm, the tears having departed at last. Gently, he lifted a loose tendril of her thick red hair and swept it back behind her shoulder. He heard her sigh contently.

At that, unconsciousness overtook him as he slumped back on the couch, snoring ever so slightly.


	7. Racing Beans and Spilled Potions

**Chapter Seven: Racing Beans and Spilled Potions**

"Faster, Remus!" she urged him as he pulled her along the sky, streaking away from the incoming red. "Faster…faster…" Her voice grew fainter as the red overtook her, and as she drowned in it, it tasted sharply metallic. It tasted of blood…

Socializing birds flitted by the Gryffindor tower, their voices shrill and their songs sharp. It was to this Lily snapped open her eyes and found herself seeing a deep thick red color. Oh, my God, where am I? she thought, reverting back to the dream. Oh, wait, it's just the sofa…it's just the sofa.

A fog shrouded her common sense. As much as she ruminated over events she _supposed_ had occurred, they certainly didn't seem to fit together. Drowsiness overtook her again, and Lily rolled her neck from side to side, resting the tight muscles in her neck. A glint of sunshine struck her eye, its glare almost silver…

Silver like…

Oh, I have to remember this, she admonished inwardly.

Silver like…what's his name?

Lucius! I met him the night before, didn't I?

The night before.

She remembered it with startling clarity. The truth. She remembered that too, and she doubted she would ever forget it. Well, Lily thought solemnly, that's that.

Stretching luxuriously, she lifted herself up from the couch and regretted it immediately, thinking longingly about how enticingly comfortable it had been. She squinted as the morning sun cut into her eyes. Clumsily, she turned around, pushing a few plump cushions aside and looking beside her. Remus had left, though when exactly she could not tell. A clock hanging above the fireplace informed her it was only seven-thirty in the morning.

"It's too early and it's too cold," she groaned to herself, letting herself slump back on the couch. "And I don't want to go to class," she added as an afterthought.

Shutting her eyes again and cursing the inconsiderate birds that had awoken her, she tried to lull herself to sleep. But this time, there was no sound of crackling wood, dancing flames, or Remus's steady breathing to sooth her. Only that incessant twittering birds, which was _no_ lullaby.

She heard small, shuffling steps approaching her. Faking a deep slumber, she clenched her eyes tightly, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice her. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and Lily assumed that person had sat down. For some odd reason, there was a devouring curiosity inside her to find out whom that person was. After all, it was a little bit early for anyone to be up.

Risking being observed, she cautiously opened one eye. A thin-haired, pale-looking, and – euphemistically put – pleasantly plump boy sat by the fireplace, curled up in an armchair, looking reflectively out of the window as if desiring something he painfully knew he could never have. Lacking any sort of distinctive feature, he certainly didn't strike her as someone she could easily notice. Still, he gave off an aura of fear and the need to be comforted.

"Hey," Lily said, sitting up. The boy jumped in apprehension. "What's your name?"

"Um, Peter…Pettigrew," he stammered timidly. The hesitance with which he approached her question made her nearly bow her head with shame and pity. If anyone had asked _her_ what her name was…

"Sorry, Peter," she blurted out apologetically. "I shouldn't have asked you that."

"It's okay," he mumbled. "I don't really care, anyway, 'cause I know that name isn't going to take me anywhere." Hmph, it'll take you further than mine will, Lily thought enviously. "Do you know how much it sucks being the son of two Squibs? _Two_, can you believe that? Not one, but _two_. No strong magic flowing in my blood."

"If I knew what that was," she muttered to herself, feeling more and more stupid with each passing second.

"Hmm? What did you say? I didn't really catch it."

"Oh, it was nothing…just wondering when breakfast starts and all," she quickly lied.

"Wait, you're that Evans girl, aren't you!" he exclaimed, his eyes fixated on Lily.

"Sadly…" she trailed off bitterly, shifting tensely under his speculation.

"Well, I, um, though you were, uh, really brave up there…on the stage thing or whatever it's called. I – I think you were really brave to come to Hogwarts," he stuttered, shuffling his feet discreetly.

"Oh, thanks," she snapped back while rolling her eyes exasperatedly; Peter, however, seemed to have let the only-too-evident sarcasm in her voice slip away unnoticed.

"Yeah, I wish I was like you…" Wow, this guy is scaring me now, Lily thought, praying that Remus would appear in the common room and take her away. "Like me"? "I'm a little bit nervous right now because classes start today. I'm going to look like such an idiot in front of everyone."

"No, you won't," she assured him. "You'll know more than I will. If anyone's going to be an idiot, it'll be me, I promise you. Trust me, I'd never even heard of magic until I got my Hogwarts letter, and I still don't know anything about it."

"Living with Squibs is just as bad as living with Muggles," he whispered fearfully, his eyes darting around rapidly. "Actually, I think…I think I'd rather be Muggle-born."

Lily's mind went blank, Peter's voice echoing through its emptiness. "I'd rather be Muggle born"? What was that supposed to mean? Nothing, she thought, _nothing_ can be worse than being Muggle-born. I'm a living reason why! But after the initial stun wore off, she held nothing but the utmost respect and honor for him. His appearance was bedraggled and his presence was almost negligible, but he hadn't called her _that_ word. He hadn't insulted her dignity.

"Well, maybe and maybe not. I guess it depends on the situation, right?" she explained after much internal deliberation.

He shrugged casually. "Maybe."

"Sorry, but I've got to go get my books, you know, for class."

"Okay. It was nice talking to you."

There was a slight pause on Lily's behalf. "Same here."

Hair disheveled and robe entirely askew, Lily trudged up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, where she should have slept last night. She darkly wondered what her dorm mates would think of her after being absent the very first night. "First impressions are lasting impressions," her mother had always said. Lily felt that she didn't leave a very good one.

To her heart-fluttering relief, she discovered her dorm mates still dozing in bed, despite the sunshine pouring through the opened curtains. Making her way to her bed (located on the far left of the room), she was pleasantly surprised to see her trunk already laid at the foot of it. Nice room service, she thought. Bending down, she flipped open the lid and began sorting through the various items she had, rather unceremoniously, stuffed in there while she had been packing.

Reverently, Lily lifted her schoolbooks out, all organized in a precarious-looking stack, staggering a little under its weight. Without warning, the top book slipped from her grasp, and as she groped wildly for it, she lost her balance. All of her books came tumbling down, landing at odd angles.

"Oh, God!" she swore, racing to gather her fallen things while sending panicky glances at her dorm mates, many of whom began stirring.

"Who's that?" someone yawned, sitting up dazedly and looking in Lily's direction, her eyes blurry and unfocused.

"Just the Mudblood," another answered, halfheartedly watching as Lily, books forgotten, got to her feet, simmering with unspoken rage. The others observed, many of them looking very bored. "By the way, where were you last night?"

"My name's _Lily_, if you haven't learned that yet," she replied, her voice laced with suppressed fury. "It's not 'Mudblood.'"

"Whatever you say," came the lofty response.

Not able to stand another minute under the speculation of her blatantly prejudiced dorm mates, she roughly crammed her books into her school bag, and with it swinging perilously from one shoulder, she stormed out of the room and out of the Gryffindor Tower. If I'm going to be stuck with those people for a whole year, I'm going to ask for a House change, she thought, her hands balled into fists.

Suddenly, the portrait swung open from behind her, and a round-faced girl, with eyes brimming with empathy framed by soft brown curls, climbed out of the Gryffindor Tower. Lily recognized her as one of her dorm mates.

"What do you want?" Lily inquired, crossing her arms petulantly.

"Look," the other girl started, an Irish accent light on her words, "I don't want us all to start off on such bad terms."

"Then tell _them_ that!"

"I'm sure they didn't mean to make fun of you – " Lily snorted incredulously, and the other Gryffindor girl threw up her arms in defeat. "All right, fine, you're right. They shouldn't have called you that, and they won't apologize for it, either. I can't hide it from you."

"Wait, you really asked them to apologize?" Lily said, feeling her hard-edged cynicism melt away.

"Well, I tried. It didn't work a bit though. I just want you to know that not everyone is like them. Not all of us are Muggle-born haters."

"But most of you are, right?" she observed, head tilted downward.

"I – I guess," the other girl admitted, "but I promise you that I'm not one of them Lily. I really am not. I would never call anyone a you-know-what, and I'm really sorry about not saying anything to stop the rest of the girls. I should have told 'em to just shut up. It's all my fault."

"No, no, not at all! It's – it's…no problem. And thanks," Lily tacked on.

"Well, I already know your name, no offense or anything, so mine's Alice Emer."

I don't remember seeing her sorted, Lily thought, but, then again, who was the one hyperventilating right before being called up? A small smile gradually crept onto her face. Maybe Alice is right. Maybe I will find people who don't think I'm worse than they are, simply because of my name. As she peered out of a nearby window, she saw the English countryside stretch out before her, an endless wave of sloping green hills flecked with flocks of grazing sheep. A breeze fluttered pass, sweeping the loose tendrils of hair from her face.

"Then, Alice," she said, "would you like to join me for some breakfast?"

"Of course! I'd be more than glad to."

After running into three trick staircases and an extremely unhelpful suit of armor that inconveniently pointed them in the wrong way, they arrived at the threshold of the Great Hall. The four House tables and their respective banners were still in place, and despite the early time of day, Lily found the Hall bustling with students and professors, all of whom were gorging themselves and taking full advantage of the various breakfast selections. Deeply inhaling the mingled scents of eggs, bacon, and freshly baked bread, she half-dragged Alice to the Gryffindor table, the sweet perfume of food guiding her.

"Lily! Over here!"

Over a sea of people, she spied a hand waving energetically at her.

"Do you mind if we sit over there?" Lily asked, pointing vaguely at the crowd.

"As long as there are seats!" she almost screamed. "I never thought that so many people would be here. I can barely hear you over them!"

Lily had to agree. The student body seemed to have expanded overnight – surely the Hall hadn't been this full! But the night before was an entirely different matter. The Sorting and the Welcoming Feast were established and practiced Hogwarts traditions, able to be held without a single interruption. The students understood that as well, and with the notable and glaring exception of the Slytherins' raucous idea of a welcome, they had sat, placid and docile, until they were dismissed. Breakfast, at least on the first day, couldn't have been more different. Cries of excitement, rage, and aggravation filled the Hall, and it was only further accented by the fact that everyone rushing around and pointing wildly at pieces of parchment that every student seemed to be zealously grasping.

"Oh!" Lily gasped, suffering a second of temporary weightlessness. "I think we're getting our schedules!"

The notion that she was about to foray into the world of academia, her forte, thrilled her beyond anything. Leaving the complex matters of history and blood and family name, she thought only of her classes and her books. She might not be able to take pride in being an Evans, but Lily could always invest in grades for they would hopefully provide the anchor of stability she hungered so desperately for. Hogwarts had already proven itself very fluctuating; first a paradise, then an inferno, and who knew that the next day would bring?

"Hogwarts is just a school," Lily said under her breath as she sat down at the table – Alice next to her – trying to push back the tide of rising nerves. "It's just a school, like any other school…it's _just_ a school. You can do this."

"Good morning, Lily!" James chimed, every bit his grandiose self, handing her a blueberry muffin.

"Er, morning, James," she said, a slight crease forming between her eyebrows. "Would you…d'you know where Remus is? I…I really wasn't expecting you here or anything. I thought that was Remus waving at me."

"I can see why," he said, winking provocatively at her.

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

"Just means I must be as attractive as he is."

"Are you trying to say that – "

"Maybe I am."

"_Are_ you?"

"Well, can't you figure that out on your own?"

"What?"

"You don't get it yet?"

"JAMES!" she shouted, blushing madly as she chucked her muffin at him, missing his head by a mere inch or so.

"Okay, okay! I'll stop," he said, holding up his arms but giving her one last wink. "Sorry, Lily, but it's just so much fun to tease you. But back to the original point, shall we? Remus? Well, when McGonagall came around while she was handing out schedules, she told Remus to go with her. I think she said it was very urgent. I could definitely tell – she and Remus were all jittery. Then McGonagall took him away and gave our schedules to Flitwick, so now he's handing them out."

"Flitwick?"

"That short guy over there. He's the Charms professor. Anyway, that was about fifteen minutes ago and they're still not back."

"Do you think he's okay?" she asked. Although she was attempting to remain upbeat even with that unpleasant Lucius fellow scrutinizing her from the Slytherin table, Lily felt compelled to ask, her concern for Remus and his well being too powerful to avoid. Already, he had helped her in numerous situations, and at least in Lily's point of view, there was an unspoken obligation to fill: someday, she would, in return, aid him in something as aggrandizing as being assimilated into a different world and its lifestyle. Though Lily seriously doubted anything required more assistance than that, she felt that maybe this would be one of those times.

Suddenly, a light rustling came from overhead, a shuffling sound that was entirely unrecognizable to Lily. Putting down her goblet of orange juice with a clunk, she drew her head backwards, raking over the seemingly illimitable ceiling of the Great Hall. A great mess of colors – various hues of brown with some gray sprinkled in – appeared out of the corner. As it fanned apart like a formation of migrating geese, she registered the sight, her eyes glowing in comprehension. _Owls_. Owls poured into the Great Hall, their talons clutching packages and letters spanning a gamut of sizes and weights, a few loose feathers floating down from their beating wings. Tearing herself away from the spectacular show, Lily found she was not the only one awed by this surprising morning greeting. Many first years from all four Houses were gabbling excitedly, their fingers pointing at the birds that were now swooping into lower altitudes, some beginning to drop their burdens.

"It's the post!" someone exclaimed.

But Lily, now having escaped the initial shock of a few hundred guests flying in on breakfast, wasn't thinking about any letters that she, for some odd reason, might receive, but her owl. What had become of Regina? The first years had been instructed to leave all of their belongings on the train, and the announcement had made it clear that everything would be delivered to their dorms…_but where was Regina?_ The unknown whereabouts of her dear friend made Lily's skin unusually clammy.

"Looking for your owl?" James said.

"Well, no, not really. I'm just wondering where she is. I left her on the train when we got here, but now I don't know where she is."

"She'll be at the Owlery, if she isn't carrying a letter or anything. Don't worry, your owl will be fine. By the way, what's your owl's name?"

"Regina, and it's sort of hard to explain why, so don't ask. It just came to me naturally."

"Regina," James repeated, drumming his fingers on the table.

"What, anything wrong?"

He hesitated before replying. "It's my mum's name."

Lily decided to drop the conversation as it was, but she couldn't quite understand why James had danced around the subject of his mum, even if it was just her first name in question. She gazed back up at the owls, the last of which were still dropping letters in their rightful owners' hands. Her heart twinged with bittersweetness as thought of how ecstatic everyone else must be, being able to receive gifts from home on the first full day of school, while her parents, her _Muggle_ parents, had probably forgotten all about her and were now doting on Petunia…

Lily forced the image out of her mind. _Mum and dad still love me, I think. They just…don't know how to send me letters. Yeah, that's why._

But now that the subject of her lost family was brought up (by my own crazy mind, she thought, annoyed), a thousand new questions were spawned: What are they doing right now? Is Petunia still evil and nasty? Will Mum get angry with another student today? Will Dad then calm her down? Have they really just moved on without me like I never really existed?

Stop it, she told herself. Don't think like that.

The yearning for her parents would not go away. Their amicable faces revisited her, mouthing silent words of love, disgust…Lily didn't know what they were saying. They might as well have been saying they were ashamed of having a witch in the family, and that Petunia had been right all along, that Lily really was a freak. Were they now denouncing their youngest daughter, calling her a failure and a blemish on the family name?

Like the family name helped me a lot, she thought. Wait, no. It was no one's fault that she had "Evans" as a last name, and it was no one's fault that she had been put in the position of the ridiculed at Hogwarts. That's the way things were always done. Don't disturb tradition. Wonderful, sacrosanct tradition. Right?

A sudden pang of homesickness seized her. Would she never again lay her head on her mother's shoulder? Would she never hear anecdotes of her father's childhood?

A weight settled on her right shoulder. Turning her head around, a mass of brown feathers met her eyes.

"Regina!" she cried, her worries melting away as she stroked the contented owl. "Have you got something for me?"

Hooting gleefully and nipping Lily teasingly on the finger, Regina took to the air once again and flew away, but not before depositing a rather wrinkled sheet of parchment – hastily ripped on one end – on her sausage. Mail for me? she thought, raising an eyebrow. Who'd be writing to me, unless it's…no, it isn't. With a slight qualm of disappointment, she scanned through the letter that Remus, not her parents, had sent.

_Hey Lily!_

_I just thought I'd let you see owl post in action, but I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to see it later on. Anyway, sorry I had to leave you without telling you beforehand (you were_ _sleeping). I had to go see Professor McGonagall for something, so I'll see you at breakfast then!_

_Remus_

Lily had scarcely finished reading it when shouts of "Lily! James!" filled the hall. Spinning around, Lily's eyes widened in relief as she saw Remus sprinting over to the Gryffindor table, his nimble body weaving through the dense pack of students. After sitting down and motioning for her to do the same, he apologized briskly for having missed some of breakfast. Though she dismissed it with a casual shrug, Lily could sense a palpable uneasiness on Remus's behalf, his curt, "Sorry about that," being nothing more than a scrambling attempt to cover it. "So, were you able to make your way down here without getting lost? And you got my owl, right? It took me forever to find yours, you know that? She looks exactly like the school owls…actually, I might have taken one of those by mistake…"

"No, you found the right one," she replied, biting her lip.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, waving her hand absentmindedly. However, Remus's mention of Regina's resemblance to the school owls had quite unnerved her. How could she have forgotten that Regina was indeed a school owl, and Lily had – more or less – _stolen_ her, however unintentional? She had half a mind to run back to the Owlery, take the owl to the headmaster (wherever he might be), and apologize copiously for having made such a grievous mistake.

Then a strange thought occurred to her. If she really had purloined an owl, then why _hadn't_ Hogwarts noticed? Somebody, she reasoned, ought to have realized an owl had gone missing after delivering a letter, and that same somebody ought to have been logical enough to send a letter to Lily, politely asking for Regina back. In fact, Regina should have just flown away altogether after delivering the letter. None of that had happened, though, and reasons behind it were incredibly nebulous.

Meanwhile, James was acquainting himself with Alice.

"Ooh, an Emer, are you?" he asked, fascinated. "Irish, right?"

"Did you know that because of the name or the accent?" she jested.

"Both," he replied. "What is Ireland like, anyway? I've always wanted to visit: my mum tells me there's a large population of wizards over there."

Alice exchanged seats with Remus so that she could continue the discussion of her homeland (and family, as Lily soon learned, much to her dismay) with James. Lily gave him a small smile as he sat down next to her, a few crumbs dribbling from his toast-filled mouth.

"What did Professor McGonagall want with you?" she questioned him as soon as he had swallowed everything.

"Just..." His face screwed up in concentration. "My mum gets sick a lot." With a jolt of horror, Lily remembered the sweet complexion of Mrs. Lupin. I had no idea she wasn't feeling well, she thought. "She's always feeling a little ill, and the only way she would have let me attend Hogwarts is if they promised they'd let me visit her once a month. Professor McGonagall wanted to confirm things with me, that's all."

"That's terrible! Next time you go home, can you tell your mum I hope she feels better?"

"Sure, I'll – "

Remus abruptly stopped. Professor Flitwick was standing next to him, jovially smiling and a thick leaf of parchment tucked in his arm.

"Name, young man?"

"Remus Lupin."

Ruffling through the interminable stack of papers, Professor Flitwick retrieved Remus's schedule and duly handed it to him.

"Well, Mr. Lupin," he said, beaming at Remus, "I'll be seeing you after breakfast then. Okay, next person. Name?"

"Lily…"

"I need your last name, if you don't mind."

"Could I get the schedule myself?" she squeaked nervously, making an effort to sound resolute.

_How am I afraid to death of a tiny little wizard who's shorter than myself_? she thought, irked. However, her first experience with the Hogwarts professors – observing them laugh at her as she was being Sorted – had not provided the best of impressions.

"Are you Miss Evans?" he put forward, his tone possessing no hint of dislike and only the joy that comes in helping others.

"Y-yes."

"I'll be seeing you after breakfast as well," he said, and before hobbling away, he passed her a schedule. "Now, where is Minerva? I would think she would be back by now."

Instantly absorbed in the rigidly drawn cells on the parchment, she noted the word "Charms" written in the top-right corner under "Monday." A ten-minute break and Transfiguration followed it, then lunch and Double Potions – with the Slytherins. She cringed at the thought of it.

"Remus, do we all have the same schedule?" He peered over the top of her parchment and nodded. "I wonder if James and Alice do as well."

"All first-year Gryffindors do," James answered. "God, can you believe this? Classes with the bloody Slytherins this year. That's insane!"

Thankfully, Lucius isn't a first year, Lily thought, feeling quite pleased with how everything was going. True, having to spend time with the Slytherins was certainly something she loathed, but the classes looked balanced, not to mention interesting. There was also the added advantage of having Friday afternoons free.

"Lily, it's already eight-thirty," Remus informed her. "D'you want to start heading up to Charms?"

"I'd love to, but I don't think any of us know where it is!"

"You think we should ask around?"

"Yeah, why not?" Head swiveling around, she searched for a person that would legitimately know where the Charms classroom might be. She supposed anyone should suffice, but as an added precaution, Lily looked for one of the two Gryffindor prefects, distinguished by little silver pins on their otherwise plain black robes. "Pardon me?" she ventured.

"What d'you need?" the prefect snapped back, sounding so disdainful Lily wanted to slap him.

"Could you tell me how to get to the Charms classroom?"

"You first years…and you'd think they'd give you a Hogwarts orientation or something so you wouldn't be asking people like me for directions."

Despite his exasperation, he pointed out the route to the Charms corridor, and Lily thanked him copiously. Rejoining her tight-knit group of acquaintances – she was almost afraid of calling them friends for fear of losing them – she faithfully repeated what the prefect had told them, and after much shuffling of books, papers, and concealed breakfast items, the four first-years stood up and strode out of the Great Hall. The Slytherin table, a boisterous place even in the morning, passed through the very edge of her field of vision. Perhaps it was the condescending House unity it valued above everything else, but the Slytherin House certainly had an extra quality that set it off from the others. The Sorting Hat _had_ said each House pertains to a distinct set of traits, but in Lily's mind, the partitions between Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff were merely arbitrary. The Slytherins, on the other hand, all possessed a certain element of _something_. It was this outstanding and nameless quality that drew Lily's eyes to their table, despite what good sense dictated she should do.

Lucius Malfoy, his robes immaculately arranged and hair impeccably groomed, towered over a cowering but surly-faced Sirius Black, and from the looks of it, he was admonishing the first year vehemently, a zeal brewing in the usually nondescript gray eyes.

"James, what's Sirius doing over there?" she asked.

"What does it look like he's doing?" he shot back, though not without an implication of pity in his voice.

"You think I can't see? _Why_ is he over there?"

"Undoubtedly being yelled at for being a blood traitor, I would guess."

"Blood traitor," she mulled, not surprised that she had stumbled upon yet another unfamiliar term. Slowing her pace down, she turned back, casting her gaze on Sirius. His usually tart mouth was clenched shut, the outline of his jawbone noticeable. She looked from him to Lucius's shadowy face. Breathing slowly, Lily disregarded her friends' frantic and wordless warnings, obviously referring to the highly and respected pureblood Lucius, and skipped over to the feuding pair, the lilt in her steps cruelly ironic. Creeping a little nearer, she crouched down, taking care to keep herself concealed from the Slytherins. She was sure they wouldn't appreciate having a Muggle-born Gryffindor listening in on their conversations. Well, there was only one particular conversation she had in mind…

"Black," she heard Lucius say, "I really don't care if – " Lily craned her head to the side as someone walked between her and the Slytherin table, temporarily blocking Lucius and his words. As soon as the slight disturbance passed, she caught something that sounded like, " – exert a good influence over them, maybe."

More and more students were getting out of their seats and were beginning their day's odyssey, and they were interfering, however inadvertently, with Lily's eavesdropping. Thinking she could risk it, she crept closer. The words were clearer; Lily could hear much better now.

"But under no circumstances, Black, under no circumstances whatsoever, are you to sympathize with that Mudblood Evans, is that understood?"

The first year mumbled something in reply, his eyes glued unblinkingly on Lucius.

"Don't be so impertinent!" he snapped. "You know what's best for you. No one of your lineage should consort with such filth. We can only afford one family of blood traitors, which is, by the way, why you should also avoid that Potter kid…what's his name again? Something common, right?"

"It's James," Sirius said, positively spitting poison.

"Never mind, his first name is irrelevant. What is relevant, on the other hand, is that you don't go around picking up foolish ideas like his."

Lily's throat choked up with a screaming wrath, her heart ramming against her chest. I'm going to kill this guy, she thought, glaring and Lucius and his irritatingly smug demeanor. He's brainwashing Sirius and telling him what to think and what to do, and that would include treating me like dirt! Lucius's now-prophetic threat echoed in her hears: _"We'll be watching you…"_

He hadn't been joking. With a deft and sure hand, he was turning Hogwarts against her through his numerous connections, boxing her into a cramped and enclosed pen, friendless, cold, and terrifying. He would plant a seed of doubt in everyone's mind, doubt in Lily, doubt in Muggle-borns, and it would flower, feeding on the hate with which Lucius watered it, growing into a monstrous tree, blocking all light. There would be no escape for her then.

Pushing her panic aside, Lily pulled herself up to full height, and doing her best to look carefree, she called out, "Hi, Sirius!" as if she had stumbled upon him by chance.

He glowered at her through narrowed eyes, but Lily noticed him watch Lucius warily too, waiting to see how he would react after explicitly telling Sirius not to associate with Lily.

"Why, Miss Evans!" he exclaimed, his eyebrows rising. "What brings you here?"

"We need to go to class now, Sirius included."

"Ah, and I was hoping you could stay and enlighten me with your presence," he said tartly, the current beneath his chiding words perilous.

"But, unfortunately, I cannot," she fired back, equally saucy.

His face flickered dangerously. Lily capitalized on this brief moment of silence, grabbing Sirius by the hand and sprinting over to where Remus and the others were standing.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Sirius yelled, throwing off her hand. "I didn't need that!"

"Yes, you did!" she shouted, just as vehement. "You were letting him walk all over you!"

"I was not!" he retorted, his cheeks red. "And I didn't need your help either."

"If you didn't, then I thought you'd have the nerve to stand up for yourself over there, or at least to make an excuse so you could get out of there. But I saw you do none of that. You just let him push you around."

"Yeah, but you're in no position to talk, are you? _You_ don't know Lucius Malfoy."

Lily gave Sirius a withering look. His physical nearness and the fingers entwined in her hair from the night before, the unspoken power he used in such a Machiavellian fashion made her wonder if _Sirius_ truly knew the real Lucius.

"Oh, I know all that I need to know," she stated, turning on her heel and marching away. She strode through the corridors alone for quite some time, determined not to peer back to see if the others had followed. "Just get to the seventh floor," she said to herself resolutely. "Then I can sit in a corner and not have to think about Sirius." The morning had undoubtedly put in her terrible spirits.

Hearing approaching footsteps from behind, Lily reluctantly turned around and saw Remus jogging towards her. James, Alice, and Sirius, on the contrary, seemed quite keen to sensibly keep a good distance behind the still-fuming Lily.

"You know Lucius Malfoy?" he asked as he fell in stride with her rapid speed.

"In a way," she said, roughly pushing a curtain of hair away from her face, not especially eager to disclose any details of their first contentious meeting.

Neither of them spoke until they arrived at the Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick was not there. Lily took her bag off her shoulder, using her other hand to massage it. She half-dragged it behind her and slumped into a seat near the back of the room. Remus sat down next to her and gave her a wan smile, gesturing in Sirius's direction.

"Try and stay away from him for a bit. I've heard the Blacks have got the nastiest tempers in all of Wizarding Britain," he advised, and for the first time since meeting Alice, Lily felt her foul mood lighten. "But, seriously, you won't want to anger him."

"So I've learned," she sighed, bending down to pull out her books.

"Can I ask you a question? Just…please don't get mad. I think I'm a little afraid of that famous Evans temper too."

"_My _temper? Clearly, you've never seen my mum after she gets home from work, and _her_ name's Prudence, but never mind. What's your question?"

"Why did you help Sirius out?"

"For the same reasons I told Sirius earlier." Her voice faltered. "And, well, you know how people always tell you to do the right thing? That's what I tried to do, and now everyone over there's mad at me."

"They aren't mad at you…except for maybe Sirius, but he'll get over that. I think."

"Nothing's going right, is it?" Lily pondered, resting her head on the desk.

"But the year's only just begun. You can't say that now, can you?"

"Then nothing's been going right so far."

"You still have a whole year ahead of you. One ruined morning won't ruin the next – I dunno – however many months we've got left."

"Already thinking about the end of the year?" Lily inquired, though she herself wondering what life after Hogwarts would be like.

"Just a little bit. The good part about going home is having my broomstick back."

The mention of "broomstick" made Lily feel a little nervous, although she could hardly guess why.

"Oh, right," she said. "First years aren't allowed to bring their own broomsticks to school. It isn't like I've got one to bring, anyway."

"Yeah, well, I thought it would be pretty cool if I tried out for Quidditch. I wouldn't make it, of course. I just like flying around, you know? Sometimes it's fun trying to race the birds…I never win. I'm not very good at flying" he finished, shrugging. "Why did I just tell you that? That was an incredibly stupid thing to say."

"It wasn't! I think it would be really fun to have been able to _fly_ when I was younger. Huh, imagine that. Flying. With the birds too!" Lily snapped her fingers wistfully. "You should try out for Quidditch, Remus. You really, really should."

Nice job, Lily, she thought. You don't even know what Quidditch is.

"I can't. There are certain – circumstances – " He broke off uncomfortably.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"My mum, that's all."

"She doesn't want you to try out?"

"Remember how I told you she gets sick a lot?" Lily couldn't believe she had forgotten. "I wouldn't be able to attend the practices, so even if I did make the House team, they would probably kick me off for not showing up for practice."

"But they'd make an exception for you, wouldn't they?" she argued. "Quidditch can't come before your mum's health."

"Quidditch?" came a sing-song voice from behind Lily, who rolled her eyes, not daring to believe who it might be. "Did I hear someone say 'Quidditch'?"

"Maybe you did, James," Remus replied coolly.

"I can't _wait_ for tryouts," he ejaculated, pummeling a fist into his other palm. "I'm going to show them all…you don't have to be second year or older to make the House team!"

"Be r-realistic," Remus reasoned, failing to sound cogent beneath James's ferocious stare. "If you can get on a House team as a second or third year as a _reserve_, that's good right there. The competition's tough."

"Competition," James huffed. "Like they stand a chance."

"You don't even have your own broomstick with you," Remus said. "You're going to have to be flying on a school broom – "

" – and I'll still be better than everyone else," he finished with a flourish, and then James headed back to his original seat with a look so smug Lily swore it would have made Lucius tremble with jealousy.

"Um, what _is_ Quidditch, exactly?" Lily asked as soon as James had resumed his conversation with Sirius.

"It's our sport – played on broomsticks."

"Hmm, I've never heard of that before."

"Muggles tend to want their sports to stay flat on the ground, don't they?"

"Eh, the ball can go pretty high during a football match," Lily said, recalling the one time her parents had take her to a game.

"Well, what's football?"

"I'll tell you…after you explain Quidditch to me," she bargained.

"Er, it's a bit complicated, to tell you the truth. I don't think there's anything Muggles have that can match Quidditch. There are, let's see, four balls – three different balls – and seven people on each team, and rules that I can't even count."

"I think I'll get it once I physically watch the game," Lily said, her natural disinclination towards anything related to sports returning.

By this time, the great majority of the Gryffindor first years had filed into class, many of whom were buzzing about what their first ever day of Hogwarts might bring. With this tide of rising exhilaration, Lily felt her troubles at breakfast disperse; a tingling sensation pervaded her thinking, a nervous anticipation building from within.

"Oh!" she said, letting out an audible gasp.

Professor Flitwick, with a marquee of scarlet cushions floating behind him, emerged from his office, whistling a nondescript tune. He flicked his wand, and the cushions punctually arranged themselves in a tidy pyramid, each layer consisting of one fewer cushion than the previous one. The eyes of many an amazed student followed Flitwick as he marched up the pyramid, not stopping until having reached its peak. Spinning around, he faced his class, beaming.

"Well, hello!" he squeaked, bringing his hands together. "Welcome to your first class at Hogwarts, and it seems that I have the pleasure of bringing you up close to magic." His eyes scanned the room, lingering on Lily for an infinitesimal moment. "I'd like to begin with a quick lecture before I take roll."

A unanimous rustling of parchment interrupted his words. Lily snatched a quill, somewhat bent at the end, from the side pocket of her bag, vaguely wondering what there was to lecture about on the first day and whether or not she should have memorized her course books over the summer. James seemed to echo her views.

"A lecture _already_?" he yelped, arms crossed over his chest.

"I never said anyone had to take notes." The room froze. "So, shall we begin then? Charms is perhaps the most applicable branch of magic you will learn at Hogwarts, though that may be coming from a slightly biased perspective. It will undoubtedly be the most useful in your everyday life, regardless of your career…"

One period later, the bell clanged through Hogwarts, commencing a ten-minute break. The first years exited the Charms room, chatting animatedly. After a short introduction to the subject, which had been interspersed with many laughs, Flitwick had given each of them a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean – Lily had gazed, bemused, at hers – in an attempt to practice the Pushing Charm, the most rudimentary of charms, according to _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_. After a bit of practice, the beans were lined up on a strip of Spell-o-Tape and raced across the room, goaded on by their respective owners' cheering and flying red sparks.

Lily hadn't won, but as she watched James's bean cross the designated finish line and his acceptance of Flitwick's prize (an oversized bag of Bertie Bott's), she felt she had done quite well in finishing ahead of a good portion of her classmates. Her feelings had buoyed even further as she eyed Remus battle it out with another person for third place and Peter's bean give one last feeble hop across the finish line to finish second-to-last.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" she said the moment they left the room, the incidents from breakfast being mostly forgotten, though she and Sirius were still tacitly avoiding each other. "I wish every class could be like that."

"Doubt it," Remus groaned, casting a longing look down the Charms corridor.

"Flitwick's classes'll be fun, though," James added. "My dad's told me he's not strict at all. As for the other ones – " He exhaled dramatically " – who knows?"

"Bet you won't fancy having McGonagall next," Sirius gibed, jabbing at his own schedule.

"Oh, no, you aren't being serious?"

"'Course I am."

"Transfiguration next?"

"James," Lily pointed out, "you do have your own schedule."

"Why do I have to go through all that trouble of getting mine from my bag when you, Remus, and Sirius have all got 'em in your hands?"

Alice, covertly throwing shifty glances over her shoulder, jogged up to Lily and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Is anyone up for a bit of fresh air?" she offered. "The courtyard's just at the end of this hall."

Everyone but Lily declined; they made their way to a verdant expanse lined with benches carved from a flecked gray stone. The midmorning sun shimmered off the morning dew even now clinging to the grass, and the birds were as bothersome as ever, fluttering in and out of the mass of students cherishing their quick intermission between classes. Breathing in the scents of rural England, her senses awoke. Lily lowered herself onto the nearest bench, Alice still following. Ready to continue discussing the morning's lesson, it came as a surprise for Lily to see Alice staring, with a misty and rapt expression, at the blanket of dancing blue that seemed to cover and encompass the entire courtyard. Lily's stomach squirmed, and she felt herself empathizing for Alice, though as to what had caused the sudden change in Alice, she was none the wiser. But somehow, instinctively, Lily knew.

"D'you miss Ireland?"

"Yes," Alice admitted, her neck muscles constricted.

"Did you live there?"

"Em, used to. Me mam moved to London and took me with her after she got a job at the Ministry of Magic. My family might be pureblood, but we've barely got ten Galleons to our name. The Ministry offered her a good pay."

"London's all right," Lily mumbled, the thrill, the rush of the city still emblazoned in her mind.

"I – I guess it is, but Ireland, Lily! Ireland! You'll never see anything like it anywhere else in the world. The sky's purple at times, the hills are almost magical, and when I'm standing by the shore, and I watch the waves crash onto the cliffs…it's like living in one of those old myths."

Lily nodded, her throat tightening. Having never seen Ireland, she could only imagine the rich landscapes being described, but Alice's words struck a deep chord within her, and it resounded through her tangled heart.

"Lily," Alice snapped, her airy manner disappearing entirely, "who's that following us?"

Lily's thoughts automatically jumped to Lucius Malfoy, who was always there waiting for her in the most inconvenient of moments, but as she scanned the courtyard, it wasn't the distinctive silvery hair that met her eyes. It was Peter.

"Oh, him. He's just another Gryffindor," she answered, yawning, but Alice didn't seem placated.

"He's certainly a strange one. He's been following you since we left Charms."

"What?" Lily sputtered. "Me? Why me?"

"I thought you would know. Do you know him?" Alice asked, her lips pursed.

"By name only," Lily lied. "Well, um, we should probably go to Transfiguration now."

The mention of class seemed to un-ruffle Alice. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulders, she cast one last longing look at the sky before the two friends made their way to the Transfiguration department, arriving in a dazed state. Acrid fumes had been slowly billowing out of a crevice in an empty classroom door, and they had the misfortune of unintentionally running through it and inhaling it. Its putrid scent sent them doubling over.

"What's that _smell_?" Lily gasped, trying to limit her breathing.

"I think – ugh. It's disgusting. I feel like I'm going to throw up!"

"What's all that racket over there?" a raspy voice grunted, heading in their direction. "One of these days I'm going to quit this job. Hanging students from the ceiling was the only thing worth staying for, and now that's been bloody outlawed." A narrow-eyed man with scraggly hair opened the door, letting free another blast of the stink. A cat with bulbous eyes emerged from the room, resting at his feet. "What do you want?"

"Just…the smell," Lily said, trying to act as if it wasn't affecting her at all.

The cat hissed.

"Damn plumbing broke," the man muttered, heading back into the room. "Now get to class!"

Alice and Lily complied without a moment's hesitation and sprinted down to the Transfiguration room, not saying a single word to each other until they collapsed into their seats, still clutching their sides. Professor McGonagall, hair pulled back into her customary bun, was shuffling about at the front of the classroom, still in the midst of preparing her lesson.

"Where've you two been?" Remus mumbled, eying their pallid profiles.

"The pipes broke somewhere back down the hallway," Lily forced herself to say, holding back the sickening feeling filling her. "Smells terrible."

"And we ran into this scary-looking person," Alice continued. "He didn't look too happy at all. I wonder who he is."

"_I _don't," Lily snorted. "I hope I never have to see him or his evil cat ever again."

At last having all of her notes organized, Professor McGonagall tapped her wand impatiently on the side of her desk. The class fell silent at once.

Lily soon realized that, in comparison with Transfiguration and the uptight, regulated way it was taught, Flitwick's class was the closest she would get to having a free period. McGonagall's voice was kept stiff and low, almost a monotone, but that was all it took to ruthlessly maintain the class's attention. Her control was firm and authoritarian, and as much as she elaborated on the nuances of the subject of Transfiguration, one message penetrated Lily's dazed brain: This is a serious class, and you will take it seriously.

Shaking with fear, her eyes surreptitiously roamed across the room. From what she could gauge of her classmates' facial expressions, they, too, seemed afraid, the look of foreboding mingled with reluctant admiration naked on their faces. Even Sirius's lower jaw was dangling. Only James had the annoyingly lazy look and was absentmindedly examining the sleeves of his robes.

After the course introduction came an extensive lecture, brimming with complex definitions and theories. Professor McGonagall moved at a brisk pace and erased one board of notes after another, only to replace it with another. Ugly splotches of ink and uneven lines of meaningless words covered Lily's paper, who as trying her very best not to fall behind. Out of the corner of her eye, Remus was scribbling with such speed his nose was flecked with pinpricks of black, and if she wasn't mistaken, Peter had managed to tip his inkwell, and a great puddle of black was now enveloping both his and his disgruntled neighbor's parchment.

"Now that you have the very basics of Transfiguration copied down," Professor McGonagall announced, magically wheeling the board over to the side of the room, "I should hope that _all_ of you – " She fixed her steely gaze on James, who had the gall to not so much as look at his quill " – will diligently review these notes until they are thoroughly memorized. I doubt that without knowing this information as well as your own name, you will not go far in Transfiguration."

This extraordinary pronouncement provoked a small squeak of terror from Peter, still madly waving his wand at his ruined parchment, which wasn't responding to its owner's shrieks. Nonchalantly, Professor McGonagall flicked her want at him. The ink vanished. Peter beamed gratefully at her, and while Professor McGonagall smiled back at him, Lily was sure she saw the professor's cheek muscle twitch.

"Now, will you please get into pairs, and Mr. Potter here, since he was so raptly listening to the lesson, will kindly pass out to each of you a matchstick. Using the techniques and the incantations that I have just taught you, try your best to transfigure it into a needle. If you need help, consult your partner before asking me. You may begin."

"Well, hello, Lily," Remus said, turning around.

"Hello, Remus – "

" – and hello, you two," James interrupted, offering a wicker basket. "Fancy seeing you here. Take 'em, already."

Lily reached in and picked up a few as James moved onto the next pair. She felt a slight prick on the finger.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, holding up her finger for examination. "I think I've got a splinter."

"You should pull it out," Remus advised.

"No, because then it'll hurt even more," Lily moaned, bringing her finger up to eye level so that she could see a miniscule sliver of wood protruding from her skin.

"It hurts more when you leave it in."

He reached for her hand and brought it back down, laying it in his other hand. Wincing a bit, Lily watched on as he bent down and freed the splinter, tossing it aside. He patted her finger gently as if ensuring there was none of the wood remaining.

Her attention meandered over to Sirius and James. Sirius had managed to turn his matchstick a metallic silver color, resembling a needle in many ways except…not being a needle. James, on the other hand, was prolifically turning out one needle after another, and was continually reaching into the basket for un-transfigured matchsticks, only to transform them with a natural wave of the wand and a drawling incantation.

Lily looked back at Remus and realized with a start he was still stroking her translucent skin, his figure bathed in sunlight. Her stomach roiled. He tilted his head upwards, their gazes locking. Lily felt an embarrassed heat flushing from her cheeks. Remus dropped her hand.

"So, uh, the matchsticks," she stuttered, placing one of them in front of her and extracting her wand.

But flicking their wands and reiterating the spell had no effect whatsoever on the matchsticks. Frustrated, Lily read through her notes again: _Visualize desired result…incantation: _mutatio_…circular wand movement…going counterclockwise…_She glared jealously at James, who was presenting his mountain of needles – their points facing perilously outward – to an astounded Professor McGonagall.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I don't believe I've ever seen a student do this well on his first try," she remarked, nodding. "Twenty points to Gryffindor."

Lily stored all the say down to lunch, the word "failure" lurking in her footsteps.

"Don't be disappointed," Alice said, later, through a mouthful of potatoes. "I couldn't transfigure mine at all. Hardly anyone could."

"You didn't see James, did you?" Lily retorted, mashing her peas into a pulp. "He was a Transfiguration factory! Matchstick goes in, needle comes out. Matchstick goes in, needle comes out."

"James is an exception. His father got a perfect score on his Transfiguration N.E.W.T. Those are the exams we take in seventh year. It was the only one in history. He outscored even Tom Riddle."

"Who's that?"

"I can show you if you like."

"Okay," Lily acquiesced, wondering what Alice had in mind.

"It's not far. The trophy room's nearby." The trophy room turned out to be exactly what its name implied: a room full of trophies, plaques, and framed certificates. Pearly glass cabinets lined the perimeter of the room, reflecting whatever light the paltry candles emitted. "Lily, look there," Alice pointed out.

Lily edged tentatively closer, half expecting to hear the scream of breaking glass. Countless chestnut-hued plaques met her eyes, the name "Tom Riddle" boldly embossed on every one of them.

"What did this guy do to get all of these?" she murmured to herself in awe. "See, he's got…Special Services to the School, Academic Achievement Award, International Association of Teachers of Magic Award, student of the year – hang on, he's got about five of those." Tearing herself away from the prodigy's massive collection of accolades, Lily stared at Alice, stupefied. "You're sure he did this – _all_ of this – when he was Hogwarts?"

"More than sure," Alice swore. "He was also prefect and Head Boy."

"How d'you know all of this?"

"He's practically Hogwarts legend, Lily, especially since there's been no trace of him since he left the school. Wizarding families with children going to Hogwarts worship him and his perfect marks. Me mam used to say to me, 'Why can't you be more like the Riddle boy?' whenever she was annoyed with me. Then I'd tell her, 'Who'd want to be a good-for-nothing, stuck-up genius, anyway?'"

Lily found herself laughing alongside Alice, though not without a twinge of disappointment that she couldn't be Tom Riddle-reborn. Maybe then she might have been able to transfigure a bloody matchstick…

"So, you said he disappeared after leaving Hogwarts?" Lily asked, salivating for more information about the student that was so idolized.

"Mm-hmm. He's probably inventing self-spelling wands as we speak."

"The Ravenclaws have got a lot to live up to, then."

"What do you mean?"

"He was a Ravenclaw, wasn't he?"

"That's the odd thing about him," Alice spoke softly. "He wasn't in Ravenclaw. Or Gryffindor. Or Hufflepuff, for that matter."

"He's a – ?" she gasped, the glowing aura surrounding Riddle's mystique extinguished.

"Yeah, weird, isn't it? Of all Houses. He was a half-blood, too. Wonder what the Sorting Hat was thinking."

"I thought only purebloods could be in Slytherin."

"Who knows?"

They tromped back up to lunch, gulped down whatever was left on their plates with unnatural speed, and waited as James and Sirius resolved their debate over – what else? – Quidditch. Remus sat off to the side, watching, amused.

"Don't even bother trying," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "You know you won't make it."

"I will!" James said, looking aghast.

"You will not."

"And why won't I, huh?"

Sirius hastily swallowed what was in his mouth and set his fork back down on the table.

"You've got three strikes against you." He held up three fingers. "One: you're a first year. Forget about making the team – do you know how many first years try _out_ for the House teams? My cousins tell me the last one to do so was five years ago. Two: you're a bit too confident."

"I am not! I just have high self-esteem."

"Which is too high, if you ask me," Sirius finished for him. "First years, if you couldn't tell, are generally seen as a bunch of little berks." Lily recalled the prefect she had asked for directions at breakfast. What an idiot she must have seemed to him! "Three: your…"

"My what?"

" – _name_," Sirius mouthed discreetly.

" 'James'?" he exclaimed deprecatingly. "What's wrong with that?"

"No, not…that name."

The fury blazed in James's hazel eyes only momentarily before fading. Looking as if he accepted this last point, albeit with a pouting lower lip, he sunk back into his seat, playing with his shepherd's pie with a fork.

"Ah, um, Lily," Remus said, clearing his throat, "what do we have after lunch?"

Studying her schedule, she replied, "Potions, but it seems that there are two of them."

"Double Potions?"

"I'd guess so."

"Do we have it with another House?"

Clearly, the acid green words located beneath "POTIONS" had escaped Lily's notice.

"Oh, no," she groaned, banging her forehead against the table. "This is impossible! The Slytherins, and in the dungeons too!"

And despite her threat to skip classes, Lily was dragged down into the bowels of Hogwarts, her skin becoming clammier with each step. Her initial annoyance at whoever designed the schedules began to be replaced with an increased trepidation and fear, something she had become all too acquainted with. Rivulets of water trickled ominously between the cracks in the walls, and the torches incarcerated in their brackets did little to comfort her. _The dungeons_…we aren't really going to have class in a prison, are we? she thought, hoping against hope that "dungeons" would turn out to be some sort of misnomer.

They were the first Gryffindors to arrive. Innards boiling, a sugary grin of welcome fixed imprinted on her taut face, Lily made her way past rows of tables bearing identical cauldrons and miniature cabinets of Potion ingredients to a bench with her name, shaped with sparkling letters, floated in midair. Looking down, she saw her own cauldron and purchases from the apothecary resting on the table. She sat down warily, her shimmering name vanishing instantly. Mollifying her somewhat, she realized she was seated at the very back of the classroom. On the other hand, she thought the distance between herself and the Slytherins could be widened significantly.

James appeared next to her, blocking the Slytherins from view. She expected him to ask if she was put out that Remus wasn't within arm's distance, but he himself seemed very irritated, still reeling from Sirius's carefully dealt points dealing with his prospect of making the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

"Aw, why's Potter looking so sad?" one Slytherin jeered. "Severus here could put it all right for you."

A great guffaw rose from the Slytherins.

"Yeah, you could, couldn't you, Snape?" another one laughed.

Lily felt James stiffen beside her. Casting her eyes down, she watched as he secretly slipped a hand into his robes, his slender fingers gripped on a thin rod of wood.

"No," she said instantly, laying a restraining hand on his arm. "Don't."

"Does Potter need a Mudblood to protect him?" someone mocked; Lily, blushing, pulled her hand back, rearranging her cauldron. "Snape, come here."

A small boy with lank shoulder-length hair stood up, the bench scraping unpleasantly against the floor. Revolving slowly, he faced James, his motionless black eyes meeting James's pulsing hazel ones. He raised his arm slowly, lissomely, directing it straight at James. James did the same, although in a much swifter fashion. Both of their knuckles were bulging with tension; both of their wands aimed at their respective targets, erect and unmoving.

"The Gryffindor's a pushover for someone like you," a Slytherin said, propping his feet up on the table. "He'll be no problem."

Streams of strange and foreign words flowed out of James and Snape's mouths as bright jets of light issued from the tips of their wands, arcing towards their destination. They met in midair, ricocheting off each other and heading it opposite directions. The screech of glass filled the room. One of the numerous glass jars laying on the shelf above the Potions professor's desk had fallen victim to one of their jinxes. It was now in pieces on the floor.

"What is this commotion?" a soft voice issued from nearby. "Class isn't due to start for a few minutes."

Everyone's head whipped around, staring at the lone figure leaning against the dungeon's entrance. Mum! Lily thought, her heart racing. She examined the woman closely. Excluding the wizard robes, she could easily pass for Prudence Evans. Her lush auburn locks were parted elegantly down the middle, hanging down to her collarbone. A rather small nose, relatively short fingers, a very shapely contour…but, no. The eyes. They were different, blue instead of the orbs of light brown sprinkled with green, but the blue! Lily had never seen such a shade, light yet deep, enticing yet mournful.

She walked over to where the jar had splintered. With purpose, she looked from student to student.

"What happened?" was all she said.

"James Potter tried to jinx me," the boy named Snape called out, a sickeningly oily feel to his voice.

"He tried to jinx me first!" James yelled back, blazing with fury.

"Out of self-defense. You obviously wanted to attack me, so I held up my wand to protect myself."

" 'Self-defense,'" James snorted. "More like you were being egged on by all your Slytherin buddies over there."

"Was anyone hurt?" the woman asked, more concerned for their well-beings than who had began the fight.

"Just the jar," James shrugged, sitting back down.

"No, Mr. Potter. Please stand back up. Which one of you broke the jar?"

"He did," they said simultaneously.

A small smile lit her serene features.

"Then you are both equally at fault," she declared. "Sit down. We're beginning class now." James obeyed with such speed he almost toppled the bench and sent Lily lurching.

"Watch it!" she hissed.

"You shut up!"

"_You_ shut up!"

"My name is Professor Trewellyn," the woman said after effortlessly repairing the glass and replacing it on the shelf, "and I will be your Potions professor at Hogwarts. Now, I must warn you that – "

"Where's Professor Icarus?" a Slytherin interrupted, glaring at the new professor with undisguised contempt.

"He retired at the end of last year. He apparently wished to spend more time at his seaside house in France."

"Why's that?"

"I would suggest you ask someone else. As I was saying, you should be warned that Potions is considered one of the most difficult subjects in the Hogwarts curriculum, O.W.L. or otherwise. Few are able to master it thoroughly; therefore, do not be discouraged if you do not get what you want on the first try. Potions requires an exactness and perfection not found in any other branch of magic, and one misstep can often ruin your entire concoction. Not many people can have this precision without a good deal of practice.

"This said, I will be grading you quite leniently through the first half of the year. More emphasis will be placed on effort and brewing methods than the finished product. After that, I shall be expecting more from you – "

"What's your surname again?" the same Slytherin disrupted, now picking his fingernails.

"And may I ask what your name is?"

"Sebastian Avery."

From somewhere next to her, Sirius let out a low whistle.

"Mr. Avery, anything not pertaining to Potions can be discussed with me after class," she said smoothly, but Lily detected a slight pink glowing on her cheeks.

"But, Professor," he continued, "it's important that, as students, we're able to know if our professors are – able enough to teach us."

"And what would my surname have to do with my competence as an instructor?"

"Everything," Avery smirked.

"_Regardless_, I should expect that all of you, if you put enough hard work into it, should be able to brew any Potion in the first year curriculum by the Easter holidays. Now, what is a potion?" Two hands shot up. Professor Trewellyn looked from Snape to James, deciding whom to call on. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"A potion is a brewed solution," he recited, glaring at Snape.

"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor."

"However," Snape added coldly, "a potion is a _magically_ brewed solution. A Muggle soft drink wouldn't be a potion, would it?"

"Even better. Five points to – "

"Still wrong, Snape," James spat. "A potion is a magically brewed solution which is brewed for a specific purpose."

Professor Trewellyn looked dumbfounded at this sudden burst of antagonism. It took a moment before she regained her composure.

"Another five to Gryffindor, then. Well, let us try brewing a potion ourselves, shall we? Assuming you remembered to pack your cauldron and student cupboard, which, it seems, all of you did, those objects should be arranged in front of you. The instructions for this are very straight forward, and after a few rounds of potion brewing, you ought to be quite familiar with the brewing methods. If you are not, then consult _Magical Drafts and Potions _for more assistance. Please get into pairs."

Lily automatically swiveled around, looking for Remus, but he was seated at the opposite corner of the classroom and had already been approached by Peter. Sirius was already chatting with Alice, about what, Lily could not imagine…

"Guess I'll be working with you then," James said.

She found nothing to say in reply. They both looked up at Professor Trewellyn for further information. She waited until everyone had settled down before resuming.

"We seem to be a bit split along House lines, don't we?" she asked, noting the gap between Slytherin and Gryffindor. "It's time for a little bit of inter-House communication. Let's see, now, Mr. Black there, why don't you work with Mr. Snape over here?" Loathing showing plainly on his face, Sirius and his materials relocated to the empty seat next to Snape. "Ah, that's better. Now, Miss Emer, would you please move over here?"

And so it continued, the pairing of Slytherin and Gryffindor, proceeding at an agonizingly slow pace. Wondering when it would be time for dinner and the end of this double period, Lily was struck to find herself the last remaining Gryffindor.

"Mr. Avery, you will be working with Miss Evans."

Lily almost rammed her fist into her solid metal cauldron, thinking she would rather feel the white-hot pain of her bones being crushed than have to suffer the fellowship of a Slytherin – and that one in particular. He was certainly very absorbed in blood and lineage.

He shot her a look of pure hatred before moving over to the seat James had only so recently occupied. I'd rather work with James in a bad mood and Quidditch-less than this person any day, she thought.

"The instructions for the potion are right here," Professor Trewellyn said, tapping her wand twice on the board. Curved letters slowly spread from where the wand had touched the board, methodically reordering themselves into the necessary words, sentences, and steps. "I expect that most of you should be able to brew this with little difficulty as now heating of the solution is involved. You may begin."

"So, um," Lily began, falsely cheerful, "what do we need first? It says, 'Add a pinch of essence of lionfish to half a cauldron-full of lukewarm water and mix clockwise three times.' Um, do you want to get the water then?"

"Mudblood, stop acting as if I'm really enjoying this," he yawned.

Lily wanted to snap, "I'm not either," back at him, but she prudently bit her tongue, being reasonably assured that she had a Lucius Malfoy protégé on her hands.

"Alright, then, I'll go get it," she told him, but not moving.

"Go, then!"

Scowling, she wrenched the cauldron off the table, its weight pulling her down. She straightened up and stumbled over to the faucet to join the line that was already forming.

"What a great class this is going to be," Lily grumbled under her breath.

She filled up the cauldron to what she thought was the halfway point, and struggling under the weight more than ever, made her way back to wear Avery lounged, the water sloshing about.

"Now the essence of lionfish," Avery said, pointing his finger at the student cupboard.

Lily wrinkled her nose as she creaked open the cupboard. Identical jars stood in stolid rows, each with fresh new labels affixed on them. She picked out the essence of lionfish and sprinkled a very small quantity of it over the cauldron. A light vapor fizzled from the water's surface.

"Where's my ladle?" she asked.

"Tsk tsk, Mudblood. How could you lose something as important as _that_?"

"Stop being so sarcastic," she snapped, her temper flying loose. "You could help me, you know, instead of just sitting there!"

"Don't talk to me like that, Mudblood!" he hissed, standing up so quickly the table shook.

"Then help!"

"No, I won't."

"Then sit down and be quiet, _please_. I don't want to fail Potions, and I don't think you want to either."

Immediately, she sensed she had pushed the matter too far. For a moment, Lily had almost welcomed the chance to spar with a rival Slytherin, to show that she wasn't about to let anyone toy around with her, but then she remembered with a sinking horror that this wasn't just a Slytherin. She was dealing with someone with prestige, someone with connections, and someone with power, a power that could be lethal. Avery seemed to have noticed her falter.

"If you ever talk to me like that again," he threatened, "you'll more than just fail your bloody classes."

"Miss Evans, Mr. Avery, is there something wrong?" Professor Trewellyn asked, seeing them upright and glaring.

"We're – just…working…getting stuff," Lily spluttered, awkwardly sitting back down. As soon as the professor's attentions turned elsewhere, she leaned in and whispered to Avery, "See what I mean? Can't we just get the assignment done and over with? Then we'll never have to talk to each other again."

"Fine," he conceded. "Use my ladle since you're too stupid to find your own."

Turning crimson, she accepted his ladle and stirred the potion as instructed.

"The next step: 'Add three strands of unicorn hair and let potion sit for five minutes,'" she read. As Avery pulled out the strands, Lily gazed in wonder at the slender threads of dazzling white. A real unicorn, huh, she thought. And all this time I thought they were just fairy tale animals. Maybe I'll see one someday! "What do we do next?"

"Can't you read, Mudblood? We don't have to do anything for the next five minutes."

"But wouldn't it be better if we prepared for the next step?"

"Why bother?" he mumbled, but looking back up at the board all the same. "We'll need some gumbumble wings." But as Lily reached for the cupboard, her elbow struck against something hard and immobile, a loud clang resonated through her ears, pain shooting through her arm. Clutching it, she grimaced, rocking back and forth. "What the – " Avery began.

"Ow, that hurt," Lily cried.

"What did you do, Mudblood?"

"I think my elbow hit the cauldron."

"That's _not_ what I was talking about!" he screamed. "Open your eyes!"

Slowly, her eyelids rose. Her eyes traveled from Avery's livid form to…Lily gulped. His finger was directed incriminatingly at the floor. The cauldron rolled on the floor, liquid slowly spilling out from its gaping mouth.

"I – I'm sorry," she said, instantly getting off the bench and righting the cauldron. "I'll clean it up, I'm sorry!"

"You're such a stupid little Mudblood!" Avery continued to rave, spittle flying from his mouth. The entire class was silent, observing them with an edge of fear. Professor Trewellyn was watching, too, but said nothing. "Who even let you come to Hogwarts? You ruined it!"

"I don't – oh, I'm really really sorry," she pleaded, trembling violently, her face sparkling with tears. "I'll clean it, I really will!"

"I DON'T CARE! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!" he bellowed, kicking the cauldron with such force whatever solution was left in it sloshed on Lily's robes. "YOU'RE JUST STUPID, MUDBLOOD!"

Straightening his robes, he stormed out the dungeon. The absence of his cutting words magnified Lily's sobbing and panting gasps for air.

No one moved.

Remus hurried forward, standing before her prostrated figure. Sinking slowly to his knees, he placed a hand on her shoulder, murmuring something.

"No!" she shrieked, throwing it off. "Don't – oh, my God!"

She pushed herself to her feet, defiantly staring at a point off in the distance.

"Miss Evans – " Professor Trewellyn cooed, moving towards her student.

Lily, her reverie broken, turned her head in a graceful arc and looked at the professor. Fresh tears poured from her eyes, trickling down her chilled skin, half pitying and half disbelieving.

Careful not to slip on the spilled potion, she ran from the room.


	8. Nighttime Encounter

**Chapter Eight: Nighttime Encounter**

"Lily, please get up. It's dinnertime."

A few raps on the dormitory door followed Alice's soft plea.

"I told you already. I'm not coming!" Lily yelled into her pillow.

"Do you want me to bring you some dinner then?"

"I don't care!"

Receding footsteps told Lily that Alice had given up her half hour-long struggle to make Lily rise from her quiescent and moping state. She knew that she would have to get up sooner or later, but for the time being, her face itched with dried tears and she felt lightheaded, pressure building up in the back of her head. Her breathing had at last returned to normal, and while sniffling occasionally broke the silence of the dormitory, a calm had descended on her after an afternoon's worth of sobbing and regret.

Lily turned over onto her back, the bed creaking gently beneath her weight, and stared up at the canopy. Closing her eyes, she relived the Potions class. The deadly clang of the cauldron as it crashed onto the floor, the trickling of the incomplete potion, Avery's burning impatience with Lily that had been provoked into fury…All of that, Lily thought, I can deal with. Well, now I can, after crying up here for who knows how long.

The soft grip of Remus and kind but urgent whisperings of "Get up, Lily!" ran through her mind, the everlasting moment as she stood up, her knees almost buckling…she remembered the dazed stares of her classmates as they looked on her as they might a specimen at a zoo.

The humiliation and Avery's stinging words – those would melt away with the passing of time, becoming mere blips in her memory. It would hurt, but the hurt would be ephemeral. She knew it couldn't last. Time was merciful; it would continue its march towards eternity; it would help her heal. But there was something she knew that even a thousand years could never cure: the indelible sight of Professor Trewellyn, so haunting, so beautiful, almost aloof, just standing, the clear blue of her eyes wide, but just standing.

Then, of course, there was the fact that she had lost all composure in front of everyone to contend with. Her weakness had been exposed for all – including the Slytherins – to gape and point at. Something in her had cracked and splintered, and there were no other words for it: she had lost it.

A fresh wave of shame swept over Lily as her sniffling became less and less sporadic, culminating in renewed cries of helplessness that shook her bed frame. She pounded the mattress until her fists were an angry red, until she wanted to tear at her hair until it fell in shreds to the floor, until the whole world collapsed around her. No one had been there to help, and she hadn't even been able to help herself. Maybe no one had ever been there by her side…but her parents.

But now her parents were far, far away, unable to help their daughter.

"I never should have come to Hogwarts!" she cried. "Never! It was all a big mistake, and I'll kill the person who let me in!"

Her thoughts jumped to the sage headmaster of Hogwarts. _Dumbledore_. How she hated that name, and how she wanted to claw her fingers across his wizened face. How could someone as wise as he subject her to such tortures? If the prejudices of the Wizarding world ran as deep as Remus had told her, wouldn't anyone with as much acumen as he possessed, wouldn't he know that she would be mistreated so, or worse, watch as everyone stood by, not moving, as she was being mistreated?

"Lily?"

"WHAT?" she blazed, suddenly reaching for her wand and pointing it at whoever it was that stood over her bedside. "Alice? How did you get in here? I locked the door."

"Looked up a nifty little charm in the spell book," she said. "_Alohomora_: simple charm, but it works very well. Look, I know you're upset, but a bit of food wouldn't hurt, right?"

"And you think 'a bit of food' would make it better, do you?" Lily fired back, too exhausted to soften her words. "Well, I'll tell you what would make me feel better. Get me a ticket for the Hogwarts Express so I can go back home!"

"But I can't do that! If I could, I would, but I can't. Lily, please," Alice pleaded, biting her lip. "None of us meant for that to happen. We can't control what that Avery kid does or what anyone else does, and the truth is that there are people like that, and you'll just have to learn how to live with them. Please don't be mad at me…or anyone else."

"Why shouldn't I be mad at you? You didn't do anything to stop him, did you?"

"Lily, I know, I know! I _know_ I should have done something about it, but the Professor…she…I just heard the Heads of Slytherin House are never really nice – "

"AND THAT'S REASON ENOUGH FOR YOU TO NOT DO ANYTHING?"

"I'm sorry!"

Alice's apology struck a chord in Lily.

"Okay, okay," Lily said, her voice hoarse from yelling. "I'm sorry, too, for being so angry and…yeah. I shouldn't have said those things."

"No, no, no, I – I understand why you did. I deserve it," Alice sighed, hanging her head.

There was a moment's hesitation, then Lily threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly.

"Thanks a ton, Alice," Lily said, smiling for the first time since lunch. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"So, um, are you up for some dinner? Because I'm starving."

As Lily walked into the Great Hall, she noticed a few heads turning to look at her, dark curiosity showing on their faces. They must know about what happened, she thought, her heart sinking. Ignoring them, she glanced up at the high table. Professor Trewellyn was cutting a piece of steak while speaking to Professor McGonagall. The scene was so neutral Lily didn't know what to feel.

A few Gryffindor second years shifted over a little to give Lily and Alice a bit of room. She opened her mouth to say something, but Remus, James, and Sirius all looked withdrawn and haggard, occupying themselves with their meal. Thinking it was of her best interest not to disturb them as it might lead to awkward questions, she loaded her plate with a grand helping of pasta and ate quietly.

"What did Professor Trewellyn say after, you know, I left?" Lily asked, covertly glancing up at the Potions instructor once more.

"Well, she told us to get back to work," Alice recalled. "She cleaned up your potion and put away both you and Avery's supplies. That's basically it."

"No detention or anything? Did I fail that lesson?"

"That I have no idea about. You'd have to see her about it."

"I think I'd rather have a chat with Lucius Malfoy than have to talk to her," Lily mumbled, wondering if Professor Trewellyn would turn out to be the archetypal Head of Slytherin House: not very "nice."

Alice snorted delightfully into her chocolate pudding. Across the table, Lily thought she saw James flash her a grin. Seeing that Alice had already finished her dessert, Lily bolted down the rest of her dinner in a few minutes' time, and they headed back up to the common room.

"Hah, yes!" Alice proclaimed as they neared the fuzzy glow of the fireplace. "We're early?"

"Early for what?"

"The common room is absolutely packed after dinner. There aren't enough chairs and sofas, so people are sitting on the floor doing their homework. Getting your legs stepped on is definitely not fun."

"Alice, could you wait for me? I'm going to go and get something to read."

A few minutes later, Lily reappeared by Alice's side, clutching a ragged paperback.

"What's that you've got there?" Alice asked. "It doesn't look like you got it from Flourish and Blott's…wait. Is that a _Muggle_ book?"

"Um, yeah. It's Thomas Carlyle's _French Revolution_. My mum recommended it to me because I like European history. I don't even know why I'm bothering with it – it was written a long time ago, and a lot of it makes no sense to me. Still, I might as well try, right?"

Curling up on the sofa, the flames tickling her skin, Lily opened up her book and flipped to a dog-eared page. Within seconds, she found herself reading the same line again and again. Screwing her eyes up in concentration, she moved onto the next line, only to be completely befuddled.

Luckily, a distraction was nearby.

"Is it up? Is it up?" someone yelled from behind the portrait.

"Is what up?" Lily shouted at the back of the Fat Lady.

"The flying lessons, of course!"

Lily looked over at Alice, and they both let out an exasperated sigh.

"James, why don't you just come in here and look for yourself?" Alice called, smirking.

"Because I forgot the password!" he whined.

"Then ask Sirius or Remus. I'm sure they know," Lily cajoled, beginning to giggle.

"They're still eating dinner! Oh, c'mon, Lily, let me in! Alice? I really want to know if it's posted! Please?"

"Fine," Lily gave in. "The password's _humbug_. _You_ were the one that told it to me, remember?"

The portrait swung open as James, ecstatic, sprinted to the bulletin board on the other side of the room and screeched to a stop.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" he said, his index finger traveling down the thick sheets of parchment accrued on the bulletin board. "Ah-ha! Here it is!" Clearing his throat he read, " 'Flying lessons for Gryffindor and Slytherin first years will begin next Monday after dinner out in the courtyard. Lessons will be held every other Monday afterwards. Mandatory.' Yeah, like someone wouldn't show up. Yes, finally! It's Quidditch time!"

"Oh, joy," Lily muttered sarcastically. "I've always wanted to make a fool of myself while floating in midair. Just great – it's exactly what I need."

"Don't be so pessimistic," Alice soothed. "Flying's not too hard. Well, Quidditch is…but we won't be playing that!" she added after seeing Lily's mortified face. "So, James, when's tryouts? I think I'm going to come down to the Quidditch pitch to watch you."

"They're the day after lessons. Good, 'cause I can polish up a bit on my flying skills."

"Like you need them, eh?" Alice ventured. "I mean, the way you talk, you ought to be playing for England."

James rubbed his chin. "That's not a bad idea," he said, grinning stupidly.

"So when you're playing in the Quidditch World Cup, I hope I'm there to see you fall."Smiling inwardly at their banter, Lily stared into the fire, wondering how she had managed to live without a blazing hearth at home. She heard the un-oiled hinges of the portrait swinging. Looking up, she saw Remus and Sirius hurrying into the common room.

"Mate, why'd you leave dinner so early?" Sirius asked. "I heard you say something about flying, and then you left!"

"Well, some Hufflepuff, he was walking past the table and talking about how he saw an announcement about flying lessons in his common room. Then I just had to run up here – "

" – and see if he was telling the truth," Sirius finished for him, "because you just can't wait until you can fly and show off, right?"

"That's not true!" James defended, his face scarlet, and Remus burst out laughing.

"It is, James," Remus said amidst his mirth. "Anyone who tries out for the House team in their first year can't be too humble."

Sirius and James howled with amusement and collapsed onto the floor, clutching their sides.

"Hear that, James?" Sirius wheezed. "Not – too – humble! Hah!"

He relapsed into laughter.

Remus chuckled slightly, and Lily had never seen him so lighthearted before. It brought a smile to her face, and she hoped that the lonely, reserved boy she had first stumbled upon in Diagon Alley had found his niche in Gryffindor. She, on the other hand, was a different matter…

"Lily," Remus whispered, motioning to lead her away from the raucous scene, "can I talk to you for a second?" Tossing Carlyle aside, she followed him to a more secluded corner of the common room. The light of the fire, she noticed, did not extended to here. "So, um, are you okay?"

"What are you talking about?" Lily said, though knowing exactly what Remus was referring to.

"With…with Avery and all."

"Oh, that! Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she lied.

"Okay, because Professor Trewellyn told me to tell you to see her after class on Thursday."

"She – she did?" Lily muttered, imagining those luminous azure eyes contorted in anger. "D'you know why?"

"Sorry, I don't. You could always see her right now, if you'd like. It's not curfew yet."

"Come to think of it, you're right. The Slytherins would start a riot if they saw me talking to their Head of House and accuse me of ruining the pureblood-ness of her. Let's go."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Would you want me to walk down to the dungeons alone?"

Drafts of chilly air blew through the hallways as Lily and Remus made their way down to the Potions classrooms. Suspicious portraits fixed their gazes on this pair of first years wandering in the near-dark. Suits of armor rattled as they passed. Could this be the same Hogwarts Lily knew? Could these aged walls of stone be the same inviting friend? Her chest rising and falling rapidly, Lily's hand snaked down to Remus's wrist and held it tight.

"Professor Trewellyn won't kill you," he comforted.

"How do you know? She'll say I purposely harmed a Slytherin, who was a pureblood to boot."

"She can't prove that."

"You think she needs proof? I think if it was up to her, she'd expel me."

"You're overreacting a bit. It was just the first lesson, all right? It was just an accident, and she can't do anything to punish you. Look, we're here."

With horror, she gaped at the plain black door looming over her.

"I don't want to do this, Remus."

"Lily, it's nothing. She wants to talk to you. That's _it_. Don't be nervous."

Exhaling slowly, she knocked on the door with her knuckles as Remus backed away.

"Yes?" came a delicate voice from within.

"P-Professor? It's – it's Lily Evans. You said I had t-to see you?"

"Please come in." Shaking violently, Lily pushed the door open and stepped into the speculation of Professor Trewellyn. She was sitting a desk cluttered with quills, candle stubs, and half-graded essays. A lone candle floated above its surface, its light feeble. She smiled invitingly at Lily and gestured for her to sit down in a chair opposite her. Up close, Lily was shocked to see dark ringlets surrounding the professor's eyes. _And she looks so young._

"Miss Evans," Professor Trewellyn began, "you, I assume, know what this is about?" Lily nodded fretfully. "Good. I shan't have to elaborate then. I am aware of your circumstances, to put it lightly, and someone in your position should try to avoid people such as Mr. Avery as much as possible. Otherwise, the consequences could be severe."

"You mean like detention?" Lily managed to say.

"No," she stated softly, her fact set. "Much worse than that. That is all. You may leave now."

As Lily rose from her chair, she felt more confusion than relief that she had escaped punishment and chastising words. The meeting had been more of a warning than anything else…but warning of what?

Lily didn't sleep very well that night, tossing restlessly in her covers until the early hours of morning. Her dorm mates' breathing permeated her thinking, the humdrum inhaling and exhaling driving her to the brink of insanity. Fitfully, she climbed out of bed, and snatching a candle off her nightstand, she headed down to the common room.

The clock read midnight, but surprisingly, there was still a fair amount of students sprawled in front of the fire, writing essays or reciting incantations.

"Uh, um, could I borrow a quill and some parchment?" Lily slurred to no one in particular, her tongue paralyzed with insomniac exhaustion.

A nameless sixth year tossed her a handsome eagle feather quill and half a sheet of parchment, badly ripped at the top.

"I'll need the quill back, though," he warned her. "Oh, and here's an inkwell. I wouldn't fancy trying to use a quill without any ink."

"I won't take v-very long," she said, failing to stifle a yawn.

Setting the candle, which had already ignited itself, on the floor, she sank to the ground, laying the parchment before her. Lily knew what was causing her inability to sleep, so she dipped the quill in ink and wrote:

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I'm sorry for not having written sooner. I've been so busy with classes! Anyway, I'm sending this letter by owl post, which you've probably guessed by now, anyway. Just tie your letter to my owl's leg and she'll deliver it to me. I hope I Regina (that's my owl) didn't scare you!_

_Everything at Hogwarts is going fine. I've made a few friends already, the classes are fun and interesting, and the professors are very nice. Here at Hogwarts, they put people into Houses, which are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. I was Sorted into the first one. I have my classes with my House, but for some, I take them with other ones. Next week, I'm going to start flying lessons. It sounds a little scary, but hopefully, I'll get used to it._

_Keep me posted on what's happening back at home. Tell Petunia I said hi._

_Love,_

_Lily_

Scanning through her letter, Lily was disgusted at herself for lying and appearing so sanguine when, in reality, she felt matters couldn't be any worse. Still, perhaps reassuring her parents that everything was running smoothly would convince her the same. Turning around, she handed what she had borrowed back to the sixth year and asked him where the Owlery was.

"Technically, you shouldn't be out in the halls at this time, and you'll get in some major trouble if you're caught," he said. "Why do you need to go to the Owlery?"

"To send a letter," she replied, holding up the parchment.

"Are you the Evans girl?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes," she answered, preparing herself for a dirty look or haughty movement, but the other Gryffindor only nodded.

"Couldn't it wait until morning?"

"It's very important."

He raised a singular eyebrow but gave her the directions without hesitation.

"Just don't get caught!" he whispered down the hallway as she was leaving.

"I won't!" she whispered back, sounding much braver than she felt. "And thank you," she finished, thanking him for more than just parchment and quill.

Prowling through the corridors, the coldness of an unlit and empty Hogwarts enveloped her for the second time that night. Soft snores emanated from behind the portrait frames. I reckon everyone's asleep but me, she thought, taking a right turn and feeling her muscles burn as they propelled her up a steep flight of stairs. She shoved a dilapidated wooden door off to the side and found herself surrounded by a storm of feathers.

How could I have forgotten? Lily thought. It's nighttime, of course.

Parting her way through a group of owls soaring out of the window together, she found Regina in the corner, calmly gnawing on a dead mouse.

"Well, you seem to be having fun," Lily commented, shying away from the rodent. "Sorry to bother you, but could you deliver a letter for me?" Reacting without delay, Regina released the mouse from her beak, letting it fall to the dropping-strewn floor. Balancing regally, she held out her leg as Lily attached the parchment with a piece of twine. "Right, take this to Mum and Dad, all right? Try not to scare them. They've never had to deal with owl post before."

Regina hooted gleefully as Lily patted her feathers, and then, spreading her wings, took off into the velvet night. Resting her elbows on the windowsill, she imagined the air rushing beneath her as she took flight, the world spinning as it fell out of sight, the glorious freedom of the air…

"In here, come on!"

Drawing a sharp breath, Lily stared at the door. Someone was coming. Frantically, she searched the Owlery for a place to hide, but the Owlery had clearly not been built to accommodate children playing hide-and-seek. Feeling incredibly stupid, she crept into a corner and pulled her robe – black as anything, thankfully – over her head. This is the best I can do, she thought, suddenly flushed with heat.

"Ah, where is my owl?" Lily recognized the voice as belonging to none other than Lucius Malfoy. "Come, Cliodna. You have a very crucial bit of mail to deliver." A ruffling of feathers, the clipping of twine. "To the Dark Lord _himself_." A gentle swoosh of air.

The owl was gone, but Lucius remained.

"Is it done, then, Lucius?" another voice rang out in the darkness. It sounded frighteningly like…

"Yes, Avery, it is, so I expect to see you at the meeting in two weeks?"

"I'll be there. Definitely."

"And if you can garner some new recruits, I wouldn't have any objections to that. Back to the common room, then."

Lily couldn't agree more. She doubted she would have any problems sleeping now. Pure fatigue from holding herself so still and vigilant overpowered curiosity as she crept back into bed, losing consciousness before her head hit her pillow.


	9. Quidditch and Flying Galore

Chapter Nine: Quidditch and Flying Galore 

At breakfast the next morning, Lily adamantly avoided looking over at the Slytherin table and relegated herself to morosely stirring a bowl of soggy cornflakes. Lucius seemed as composed and awake as ever, but Lily had to be roughly prodded in the arm before opening her eyes. Her sleepiness was still apparent, manifesting itself in her pale cheeks.

"You really couldn't sleep last night, could you?" James asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "I'm sure you could skive off History of Magic to catch up on your sleep."

"James, you're not supposed to put any bad ideas into innocent little Lily's mind, remember?" Sirius chastised, barely holding back a grin.

"Lily, don't listen to them," Remus cautioned. "Skiving off classes on the second day of the term, even if it is History of Magic, won't go well with the professors."

"What, old Binns?" James scoffed. "You're kidding. My dad once walked right out of class without him knowing."

"To do what?" Alice challenged, rolling her eyes. "Put a Niffler in someone's office?"

"Come to think of it, that's exactly what he did. A genius, my dad is."

On any other day, Lily would have eagerly joined in on the laughter; instead, she yawned grandly and pushed her cornflakes aside.

"Aren't you going to finish it?" Alice said.

"Nah. I'm not hungry. Not one bit. Guess my appetite hasn't woken up either."

"Well, think of it this way: you'll be starving by lunchtime, so then you can make up for breakfast."

"It helps to think of it like that. Shouldn't we be leaving for class now?"

Leaving the three boys to chat amongst themselves, Lily and Alice walked – or in Lily's case, stumbled – to the History of Magic classroom. Unlike the other classrooms they had been in, this one appeared to have been untouched by the cleaning staff in some time. The rows of desks were askew, and upon closer examination, the windowsill was caked with a thick layer of dormant dust. Half-erased tracks of chalk covered the board. Maybe I ought to have taken James's advice after all, Lily thought.

There was a light knock on the partly closed door, and a swinging film of dark brown hair emerged into sight.

"Hi, is this where History of Magic is?" she asked. Lily clapped a hand to her mouth. She knew exactly who the girl was. Upon seeing Lily's reaction, the girl hastily added, "I must have the wrong room then."

"Oh, no, you're in the right place," Alice answered. "Ravenclaw? I'm pretty sure we've got this class with the Ravenclaws."

"Yeah, so I guess you must be Gryffindors."

"My name's Alice, and this is Lily."

The girl looked dazed. "L-Lily?"

"Hmm?" Lily trilled, focusing intently on the scratches on her desk.

"Are you the, well, you know…the other…" Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "_Are you the other Muggle-born_?"

"A-um, yeah, I am." Neither of them moved. "You could sit down, if you'd like."

"My name's Helen, by the way."

A pack of Ravenclaws soon entered the room, all of them casting funny looks at Lily and Helen. As she shuffled into their seats, Lily heard the word _Mudblood_ being circled around, not-very-tacitly referring to them. When Lily took out her copy of _A History of Purebloods_, she slammed it onto her desk, its legs creaking ominously. Scowling, she sent the Ravenclaws a nasty look and then glared back down at the book.

_A History of Purebloods_.

If Lily had known what it meant, she would have never purchased it in the first place. She certainly wasn't a fan of book burning and censorship, but if she ever had a chance to toss a single book into a climbing conflagration, that one would be it.

"What a sick class this is going to be," she spat, slamming a fist onto its cover. "A bunch of Pureblood nonsense. What are they going to teach us, huh? How to properly respect Purebloods? How they're better than people like _me_ in every way?" The Ravenclaws' pre-class babbling ceased, and every one of their heads turned in Lily's direction. "What're you all staring at?" she demanded.

"Lily," Helen implored, "could you stop? I don't like it when – when they look at me like that."

"Why should I?" Lily growled, suddenly realized what "History of Magic" really meant. "This class is insulting."

A sudden surge of recklessness seizing her, she stood up, heart pounding, the somnolence of breakfast fading away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Helen pleading for her to sit, but she couldn't, not when her dignity was being threatened. Gone were the days where –

The door swung open, and a cackle of laughter met her ears. James, leading the procession, marched to the front of the classroom and declared, "Well, guys, welcome to History of Magic, where naps are served all day, everyday, and there's never any work to be done. C'mon!"

He and Sirius hurried to the very back row, both of them sporting pompous smiles. Remus paused when he reached Lily's row.

"Why are you standing up?" he asked.

"Oh, I – no reason," she said quickly, sitting down and feeling both angry and ashamed all at once. "Remus, this is Helen." They nodded cordially at each other. "So, are James and Sirius up to anything?" she said in a hushed tone.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, you saw them. 'Never any work to be done'?"

"He's not up to anything except the usual," Remus sighed, looking around the room as the rest of the class filled the seats, "which would include sleeping and not doing anything related to the class."

"Won't they fail though?"

"James? Sirius? Fail? You saw them yesterday during Transfiguration. They both got farther than anyone else."

"But this isn't, you know, practical magic, right? It's – it's history."

"I don't know how he'll do it," he shrugged, "but I'm sure he'll find a way. He _is_ James, after all."

"Oh, look!" Alice squealed, pointing a finger at something and getting everyone's attention.

A pearly form passed through the black board, hovering a foot or so off the ground as he looked at the class. Lily stared; it was a ghost. She had already become quite accustomed to seeing the transparent specters floating through the halls, but to have one as a professor, to have one teaching an actual class – she felt that was something unique in every way.

"Welcome to History of Magic," he drawled, his tone flat. "I am Professor Binns, and this year, we will study the basic social structure of Wizarding society as it is today and how it interacts. This will cover the first term. After the holidays, we will cover the historical roots of our social structure, examining them in great detail." Looking back down at _A History of Purebloods_, Lily snorted in disgust. Professor Binns seemed not to have noticed. "During classes, I expect you to take notes. They will be especially helpful in studying for your end-of-the-year exams. Now, to begin, please copy these terms and definitions down."

As Lily had been forewarned, the vast majority of the class sat there, not following his instructions. Behind her, James and Sirius were already talking animatedly, definitely loud enough for the professor to hear; however, Professor Binns merely floated there, watching onward, his eyes drooping.

"The term _pureblood_ refers to…"

Whatever wave of energy Lily once possessed deserted her. She slumped over her desk, mouth hanging slightly open, and fell asleep. Her slumber, however, was short-lived. A hand fell on her shoulder and shook her. Lily woke up with a start.

"What?" she grumbled, raising her head a few inches off the desk.

"Since no one else is really paying attention, could we talk for a bit? I've been wanting to for a while," Helen whispered, and for the first time, Lily discovered the rest of the class, too, was either sleeping, doodling, or gazing far off in the distance, sinking into the limbo that separated the conscious and the unconscious. Professor Binns was still pacing in front of the classroom, sporadically gesturing at the board, rattling off his lecture and impervious of the state of the class. "Please?"

"Yeah, fine," Lily yawned. "So…what's going on?"

"It's – I'm having some trouble getting used to Hogwarts. I'm not used to the fact I'm a witch and that I can do magic, but it isn't as if I've gotten anywhere with it."

"That's nothing to worry about. A lot of people still aren't great with magic."

"Everyone keeps calling me 'Mudblood,' and I haven't a clue as to what it is or what it means. And I don't know if it's an insult or just what I am because most people say it like it's something they're used to, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," she sad, her mouth dry. "I know."

"What's it mean?"

Somehow, Lily found herself biting back tears, staring helplessly at Remus and the quill dangling from his limp hand. She was in the same predicament that he had been in when he had stumbled upon _her_, naïve, innocent, and ignorant. How had he treaded the fine line between outright lying and the cruel truth? How had he kept her happy while satisfying her inquisitiveness? She was in his position now, that of the omniscient and kind being, and how bitter it was for Lily to accept that she lacked his foresight and his wisdom.

"Means you're Muggle-born," Lily said, slowly and uncertainly. "You know what a Muggle is, right?"

Helen nodded and said, "The book told me. Hmm, you think the _book _could tell me what a Mudblood is?"

"I have a feeling it won't," Lily replied, though not really knowing for sure. "Remember how it said that there was a Limiting Charm cast on the book? It was done for a purpose: I guess the headmaster doesn't want us learning everything by reading. I think – I think he wants us to really go and out and learn what the Wizarding world is like."

With that, their conversation ended and the bell rang, and so as not to be caught in the coming inundation of students, Helen hastened to pack up her things and darted out of the classroom.

"She's a bit off color, isn't she?" Lily heard Sirius say behind her.

Lily hadn't even the will to criticize him for his comments. As she had watched Helen leave, her heart ringing, she felt sympathy like no other. They were the only Muggle-borns in the school. What else could she feel? It was something Sirius – perched atop his family prestige and name – or anyone else would not be able to understand.

Quite fortunately for Lily, the remainder of her first week at Hogwarts passed by without any remarkable incidents. Even Potions on Thursday was a rather pleasant affair. Professor Trewellyn had, out of discretion, not insisted on forcing House unity and let the students pick among themselves their partners. Lily steered clear of Avery, however tempting it was to ask him what he had been doing in the Owlery with Lucius that one night. "Mudblood" had been screamed in her direction as she passed through the halls more than once, and though it was in her nature to challenge this, she quietly kept her head down and reminded herself to retain a low profile. Making a scene in the hallways of Hogwarts was not a wise thing to do.

On a late Friday afternoon, Lily was trudging up to the Gryffindor tower from the library after hours of hard studying. Professor McGonagall had recently sprung on the first years yet another Transfiguration essay; the subject was quickly becoming one of Lily's least favorite. There was a subtlety to the art of transforming objects that remained unexplained, and Lily hadn't any idea as to how to capture and channel that subtlety. What more, James used every opportunity to put on flamboyant performances of his many gifts in Transfiguration. During the previous lesson, he had flaunted his Transfigured teacup to the point where Lily, scowling, whacked him over the head with her hand, resulting in a few lost points for Gryffindor.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she mumbled under her breath as she continued with her Transfiguration. "_James_ over there can get those points back for you. Perfect little James and his perfect little teacup…"

The tirade had continued until someone nearby told her to be quiet.

Determined to redeem her inadequacy in the subject, Lily locked herself in one of the library's many student cubicles on the first years' free afternoon. Her bitter feelings replayed themselves between the scratching of her quill. Upon completion, she raised the ink-covered parchment to the light and breathed deeply. It might not be James-level, she thought, but it'll hopefully get me a good mark.

Now standing before the Fat Lady, Lily stretched her tensed arms, shaking from it the concentration built up from writing the essay. She checked her watch. Oh, good! she thought. It's only four. There's plenty of time to catch up on my reading –

"Lily?"

She turned slightly to the side. "Oh, hi, Helen. Enjoying the afternoon?"

"Yeah…um, I have something to ask you." Helen's hands played with her hair, looking terribly nervous. "I was wondering if you – we – could spend some time together this weekend?"

"Er, doing what?"

"Maybe taking a stroll around the grounds?" Her lower lip trembled as her hands convulsive movements stopped. "I'm just so lonely here at Hogwarts. No one in my House really likes me, and can I really blame them? I don't talk to anyone either. I only want – a friend, I guess."

"It's okay," Lily said, still trying to maintain her stoic façade.

"Nothing's worked out for me at all. People make fun of me in the hallways, and someone even told me they'd put me right back on the Hogwarts Express and send me back to London! This is such a horrible place. I wish I never came to Hogwarts."

"What?" Lily interjected, abandoning her attempt to be nothing more than a helpful and cheerful friend. "You _can't_ be serious!"

"I am," Helen defended, "and I don't see why you should have come either. Hogwarts wasn't made for people like us."

"What – what d'you mean by 'people like us'? Helen, look, I'm a witch, and you're a witch too. We're just like everyone else. Hogwarts is exactly where we belong."

"Do you really believe that, though? Or are you just saying it because that's what they want you to believe?"

Lily wanted to yell, "Of course I believe that!" back at her, but Helen's quiet intensity made her choke on her own words. _So, do you belong?_ she asked herself. _Do you belong with people like Lucius and Avery?_

Not with those kind of people, she argued back. But there's Remus and Alice…and I guess James and Sirius aren't so bad when they aren't showing off. Even Peter. They're my friends.

_There are your friends…and then there are those that aren't you friends._

I never even had friends before Hogwarts. I at least have that now.

"Yes, I believe that," Lily stated, deliberating every syllable. "I think that if you just look in the right places, you'll find friends. That's what I had to do."

Burying her face in her hands, a paroxysm of wailing seized Helen and she sank down to the floor. It hurt Lily so, hearing the grievances of the lonely belted out wordlessly, the only route of communication the sobbing, the tears, all reduced to a small huddle on the floor. Lowering herself, Lily patted Helen's shoulder.

"Look, don't cry," she whispered, fumbling for something in her bag. "Here, have a tissue."

Helen raised her red, swollen face, great tears leaking from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't mean to just start crying like that, but I'm so alone…"

"I know, I know. Um, how about this? I'll ask Alice if we could all go down to the grounds together, all right? The two of you could get to know each other better. She really is a nice person, I promise you."

"T-thank you," she sniffled, blowing her nose.

"I'll send you an owl tonight. Well, you'll get it tomorrow morning's what I mean." Helen forced a small giggle. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's great." With Lily's help, she pushed herself back onto her feet. "I'll see you around, then."

So over the warm and sunny weekend, Alice took Lily and Helen down to explore the grounds. The quaint wilderness of Scotland stretched out before their eyes as they skipped through lush pastures and silently approached the gamekeeper's cabin before being chased away by a hardy-looking rooster. Drained of physical energy, they collapsed beneath a tree not far from the lake. Lily suggested swimming until Alice told them of a large squid that lurked beneath the water. The idea was immediately forgotten.

Almost dozing, Lily observed a small rabbit hop towards a towering willow located further down the lake edge. It inched forward, occasionally sniffing for a cowslip or other delectable plants. How cute, she thought, watching it approach the willow.

A resounding boom shattered the silence. The rabbit darted off in the opposite direction, its white tail flashing.

Lily screamed, bolting upright.

"What, what?" the others asked, but Lily could only gesture wildly at the willow.

Alice and Helen screamed as well, and they took off for the castle, not breathing until the heavy oak doors were securely shut behind him.

"Oh. My. God," Lily panted. "What was that?"

"The tree – its branches were _moving_," Helen said. "That was…Alice, do you know what it is?"

"Purebloods don't know everything," she shrugged.

"Unless you're James, of course," Lily mocked, eliciting laughter from Alice.

"Maybe we can look it up in the library," Helen suggested.

Keeping their voices low, they skimmed through the library's plant identification book until they came across the moving graphic of a very violent tree, very akin to the one that stood on the grounds.

"It's a Whomping Willow. 'A very dangerous species. Limited number to be found in Wales. Not to be approached without proper protection,'" Lily read. " 'Will attempt to crush anything that touches it. Can be frozen by pressing a significant-looking root near its base.'"

"That's some crazy tree," Alice muttered.

"You said it was found in Wales?" Helen asked.

Lily nodded. "That's what it said. But…but we're in Scotland!"

"Exactly," Alice said. "We are in Scotland, the Whomping Willow's from Wales, so what's it doing here?"

Thankfully, they didn't come across any other sort of murderous plant for the rest of the weekend. It wasn't until Monday evening until anything of significance happened. Lily and Remus sat alone in the Great Hall, finishing their dinner, when James ran into the hall, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

"You're going to be late! Eat faster!" he urged.

"Late for what?" they asked.

"_Flying lessons_, you dolts! Oh, hurry up, already."

Almost gagging on her food, Lily crammed what was on her plate down her throat and followed James as he led them out onto the grounds. Remus, panting for air, arrived just a second after they did. Lily noted the class had already split into its customary two groups: the Gryffindors and the Slytherins.

"Look, Lily." James pointed to a great edifice standing only a hundred feet away. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"What is?"

"The Quidditch pitch!"

The way James talked about it, it might as well have been a shrine, but all that Lily could see were six towering hoops, three located on each end, and raised stands encircling the entire field.

"What's so special about it?" she asked.

" 'What's so specialabout it?'" James exclaimed, looking mortally offended. "It's Quidditch, Lily. Quidditch." He walked over to a heap of rather worn broomsticks and selected one, running his hand along the handle, closing his eyes. Mounting it, he gazed up and the sky and prepared to kick –

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing?" someone shrieked. "Get off that broomstick! _Accio_!"

The broomstick flew out of James's hands and he tumbled to the ground, landing facedown with an _umph_. Rolling over and finding his footing, he dusted off his robes and glared at the middle-aged witch, who was now holding his broomstick in her outstretched hand.

"I wasn't going to fly with it, anyway," he spat.

"All the same, I can't have you setting a bad example."

"But I _know_ how to fly."

"Rules are rules, my boy," she said simply. "Now, here, Mr. Potter, you may have your broomstick back. _No flying, remember? _The rest of you, my name is Madam Hooch, and I will be your flying instructor this year. Please grab one from the pile over there. Stand in a spot where there is ample room and place your broom on your right side. Then wait for further instructions."

A mob formed by the broomsticks, everyone jostling to find the least battered one. Reaching for the nearest one, Lily was hit repeatedly over the head in her struggled. Temper rising, she extricated herself from the group and stood to the side while waiting for most of the fighting to stop. Her nose wrinkled distastefully as she examined her own broomstick. The handle was badly chiseled; the twigs were completely awry. She doubted she would be able to fly on something as poorly constructed as that.

"Lily, over here," Remus said, motioning to an empty space to his right.

After a terse set of directions, Madam Hooch set them to work. Everyone mounted their brooms, gripped it in accordance, and waited as Madam Hooch made her way to each student, inspecting their positioning on the broom. James, of course, was extolled as being "perfect," and he sat smugly on his broomstick, holding his chin up. Lily glowered angrily at him while her grip was being corrected. James, seeing that Madam Hooch was no longer paying attention to him, started bouncing up and down on his broom, floating a bit upward before forcing his broom back down. As he played around with his broomstick, though, Lily saw him slyly take out his wand. A small _poof_ and a flash of light came from the tip, and suddenly, the wand was gone, hidden in his pocket. Groaning, Lily wondered if she would ever have a normal class again.

"All right, now that we have that fixed," Madam Hooch continued briskly, "we now come to flying itself. It is a ridiculously simply concept: you simply direct the broom in whatever direction you wish to go in. Leaning forward will increase your speed, while leaning backward will decrease your speed. The challenge of flying lies in its subtleties. For example, how far right can you lean while still turning and not falling off? That is what separates the excellent flier from the average flier. Would anyone like to demonstrate?"

Not surprising anyone, James's hand was the first in the air, and he was practically salivating at the chance to show off his flying prowess.

"Snape here could do it. He's a better flier than Potter any day," a Slytherin chuckled, shoving the first year forward. "Go on, you know you can."

James and Snape exchanged glances. Clearly, they were prepared to take their animosity beyond Potions class.

"You there," Madam Hooch called out, "the Slytherin. Come here." Averting her eyes from the ground for a split second, Lily was shocked to see …well, James looked content, despite having to witness an inexperienced Slytherin, also his growing rival, picked over him. The image didn't satisfy her. Then she thought of his wand and the light. "Right, now mount your broom and grip it tight. Kick lightly off the ground so that you're hovering, oh, a good few feet above the ground. Then fly a circle around the courtyard and come back here."

Though his face was drawn and pallid, Snape swung one leg on the other side of the broomstick and grasped the handle. Haunches coiled back, he pushed himself into the air. Lily quickly looked from Snape to the ground. He really _is_ flying, she thought, flabbergasted.

But without warning, his arms began to shake violently and he lost his greasy little smirk, looking terrified. Abandoning the proper grip, he pulled his body flat alongside the handle, his entire form now vibrating.

"W-w-w-w-hat's hap-p-p-ening?" he stuttered through chattering teeth as the broom started moving up and down in a sharp rapid motion.

"Get – get off the broom!" Madam Hooch yelled, but she was as clueless as Snape.

But Snape continued to hug himself tightly to the broom, clinging on for dear life. The broom let out a whinnying neigh and begin undulating wildly, trying to buck off its owner. The entire courtyard broke out in rowdy laughter, both Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, as the horse-broom's movements grew crazier and more unpredictable. James was on all fours, banging on the ground, blithe tears trailing down his face. Lily was having difficultly breathing through her laughs, and when she sincerely tried to stop, they redoubled and she laughed all the harder.

With a crash, Snape was finally thrown to the ground, the broom still bucking off its invisible rider. Face set, Snape leaped at the broom and tried to mount it, only be to thrown off again. He landed flat on his back, and the broom throttled around the courtyard. Madam Hooch whipped out her wand and yelled, "_Finite_!" With one last neigh, it rolled to the ground, limp.

The laughter intensified as Madam Hooch helped him hobble to his feet; Snape looked quite ashen. It was only when she pointed her wand did the class fall silent. Snape scuttled back to the Slytherins, hiding in the very back.

"Whoever is responsible for this," she threatened, emphasizing each word with her wand, "will be sorely punished. Anyone with any information should report it to me as soon as possible. Class is dismissed."

Everyone began to file past Lily to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the piercing-eyed Madam Hooch, but Lily was rooted to the ground, guilt swelling in her. She had been the only one to see James jinx the broom, and she knew it was her moral obligation to tell…but she didn't want to get James in trouble.

"Get out of my way, Mudblood," Snape growled, pushing her off to the side.

Or maybe I won't tell, Lily thought coolly as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, already thinking of the homework awaiting her.

Of all the many facets of Hogwarts life, perhaps it was the academics that she felt most ill at ease with. Often, she wondered how that came to be because she had once considered it the base of her happiness, simply being in the company of books and the written word. But she wasn't happy, not that happy where one feels invincible and impervious to adversity.

Still, she tried to tell herself, one week's experience with magic was too little to judge from. Lily knew she had the ability and the power; the difficulty lied in harnessing the magic within in, to direct it through charms and spells and potions. The theory made perfect sense to her, but when it came to picking up a wand, her mind was blank.

"I told you reading isn't the best way to go," James teased her after Charms the day of the Quidditch tryouts, acting oblivious to Lily's stormy expression.

"James, shut it," Remus complained.

"Just getting myself ready for – "

" – Quidditch. Everyone already knows, James," Sirius said, coming up from behind. "You've been talking about nothing else since term started."

"That's not true! I've talked about loads of other things, like…like…oh, damn, I can't remember. Who cares, anyway? There are only two things in life: Quidditch and everything else."

"I'm glad the tryouts are today. Wanna know why? We won't have to hear about Quidditch for the rest of the year."

"Sirius, are you trying to say that I won't make the team?"

"Maybe I am," Sirius commented. "Seriously, mate, what'll you do if you don't get called back for more further tryouts?"

"I'll figure it out when that happens…_if_ it happens," he corrected himself.

Double Defense Against the Dark Arts and the remainder of the afternoon breezed by with unnatural speed. Professor Wesleyan had assigned them to do some group reading; predictably enough, no reading was being done. Lily, working with Alice and Remus, sat, entranced, while Alice spoke of Hogsmeade, which she had visited with her family a few years back.

"My favorite shop was Honeydukes," she said, a glow tingling in her cheeks. "Oh, you should see it – there are mountains of chocolate and all these different candies I had never even heard of before. I think I bought a bit of it all and ate it right after leaving the shop, and if I'm not mistaken, I threw up that night."

Lily giggled merrily. "I'd love to visit," she said.

"I know that in third year, we're allowed to visit while at school."

"That's exciting," Remus said, as enraptured by Alice's words as Lily.

"You know what? I should invite you two over to my house over the summer. Then me mam could take us all to Hogsmeade!"

"Sounds like a good idea," Lily sighed, looking out of a window as if expecting the cozy village and its twinkling lights to appear before her.

At dinner, James could hardly hold a fork properly. It turned out that wasn't much of a problem, as he couldn't eat at all. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his face, and he loosened his robe, complaining that it was too hot.

"We'll all come down to the pitch to watch," Sirius said, clapping a hand on James's shoulder.

"Sorry, I've got a Herbology essay to finish," Lily began. Sirius gave her an imploring look and then nudged his head in James's direction, who had just tipped over his goblet. "But I'm sure I can finish it some other time!" she corrected, inwardly wondering how she would get it done; Herbology would be tomorrow's first class.

"Yeah, James, we're all coming," Remus guaranteed, backed up by Alice's fervent nods.

"Thanks," he croaked, his knife clattering to the floor.

Lily felt someone tapping her shoulder. Looking behind her, she saw Peter standing there, his hands clasped dutifully behind his back.

"Hi, Peter," she said, keeping her voice low. "What d'you need?"

"I was hoping that you…that you might be able to help me with that essay on the plant thing…"

"The Herbology essay?" Lily tried to clarify.

"Yeah, that one! Unless…unless you're already done, of course."

"I'd love to help, Peter, but I'm going to be watching James's Quidditch tryouts tonight. I won't be in the common room."

"How're you going to get it done?"

"I'll – uh – work on it when I'm watching?" she improvised.

"Then can I come with you?" he asked, his eyes glowing.

"I think you should ask James, not me. He's a little bit – touchy about the whole thing, if you know what I mean."

The daylight was fading away into dark hues of violet as the six Gryffindor first-years strolled down to the stadium, Lily and Peter lugging their Herbology books in their bags. To be truthful, Lily hadn't wanted Peter to tag along. Working alone had always produced the best results for her, and while she did consider Peter a good person, he registered as incompetent in her mind. James had let the decision lie with her. Skeptical as to how they would compromise their different intellectual capabilities, Lily threw caution to the winds and acquiesced to letting Peter work with her.

They reached the stadium entrance and went their separate ways. Sirius bid James a farewell and good luck, and James, in an attempt to appear confident, straightened his shoulders, nodded brazenly, and walked into the locker room, his Quidditch equipment getting caught in the door. Laughter rang from within the locker room. The door inched open and James stuck his head out.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly, pulling his equipment in.

"Look," Alice pointed out, running her finger down a pinned-up sheet of parchment, "they've got a list of open positions listed for the Gryffindor team. Sirius, do you know what position James is trying out for?"

"Chaser. What, they don't have an opening for it?"

"No, they do. It's just – " Alice grimaced " – there's only one spot for a new Chaser. It means he'll have to be almost perfect."

"He could always be a reserve…" Peter piped up from the back.

"And you think that James would settle for _that_?" Sirius barked, wide-eyed.

"It was – it was just an idea!" Peter squeaked, cowering behind Lily.

"Sirius, be nice," Lily said, regretting more than ever her decision to bring Peter. "Let's go up to the stands. And try not to fight on the way, please. You'll give everyone a headache."

Darkness was quickly descending on Hogwarts, and Lily found that she couldn't discern a thing written in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

"I should've brought my candle," Lily said.

"You could use your wand," Sirius condescended. "You are a witch, remember?"

"Well, I don't know any spell to create light!" she sputtered, flustered.

"_Lumos_, Lily. I thought _everyone_ knew that."

She paid no heed to Sirius's sarcasm but took his advice and muttered, "_Lumos_." An orb of light surrounded the tip of her wand. Flipping the pages to Chapter Two ("Cultivating Methods"), Lily immersed herself in the most effective ways of balancing soil pH and nutrient content, intermittingly writing something on the parchment.

"Wait, Lily, I can't see," Peter complained, leaning this way and that.

"You have your own book, Peter," she groaned, now regretting her decision altogether to come and watch James play a sport she knew practically nothing about.

"Let me see your essay."

"Are you joking? I'm not letting you or anyone copy!"

"Lily, please?" he cajoled, pouting.

She paused and remembered their early-morning conversation from a week ago. "First, try and write it yourself, okay? If you have trouble with anything, then I might let you see mine."

"Oy, there's James!" Sirius exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, "GOOD LUCK, POTTER!" down to the field; a figure with messy hair waved back.

In spite of determination to get her work completed, Lily set aside the Herbology assignment and observed the Quidditch tryouts, intrigued. James was up in the air on a none-too-steady school broomstick, tossing a football-like object around. She was heartened to see that he dropped none of his catches, which she assumed was the point. He had made a few spectacular ones, actually, including one where launched himself a few feet in the air, caught it, and landed back on the broomstick with a minimal amount of bobbling, making it seem like a practiced and finessed maneuver. Sirius roared approvingly particularly loud after that one.

Next, they lined the prospective Chasers at around midfield.

"What are they doing now?" Lily asked.

"Taking shots on goal," Sirius replied automatically, his dark eyes focused on the pitch.

James only made three out of five, but those that found their way around the Keeper were those of an athlete who knows his sport intimately. As James soared to the ground and dismounted, great cheers echoed through the mostly empty stadium.

"Let's go!" Sirius urged, tripping across the stands to be the first to see James.

James exited the locker room, his Quidditch equipment trailing behind him, at the same moment Sirius came down from the stands, and they both ran out onto the grounds, arms raised, great victorious whoops issuing from their mouths.

"That was the bloodiest, most brilliant thing I've ever done!" James breathed with difficulty.

"You _had_ to make the team! For sure!"

"Well," James said, the elation on his face lessening a little, "that was just the first day, but I'm bound to be called back for more tryouts! I can see it now: I've just scored my twentieth goal of the game, everyone's cheering my name – "

"You arrogant little berk," Sirius joked, slapping James on the back.

"Right," Lily huffed, catching up to the celebrating pair, "now that your Quidditch is over and done with, it's time I get this essay done."


	10. The Young Death Eaters Association

**Chapter Ten: The Young Death Eaters Association**

"Lily, get up!"

Groggily, Lily tilted her head up a few inches, keeping it raised long enough to register that Alice was shaking her shoulder, and then let it slump back onto the pillow. The Herbology essay had taken a ridiculously long time to write, and after much wheedling, Remus gave in and let her copy what she needed from his essay at around half past midnight. Nodding off into sleep, she promised to never leave her essays until the night (or morning) of.

"Wassamatter?" Lily mumbled.

"We're supposed to meet James and Sirius and Remus in the common room at seven, remember?"

"No, I don't 'member. When did you guys decide that?"

"Last night, when we were walking back from the Quidditch pitch."

"Really? I still don't…" She stifled a yawn "…still don't remember."

"You must have gone ahead."

"Oh, yeah." She recalled James and Sirius's egotistical talk, her own annoyance at having wasted her time on watching people fly around on a bundle of twigs – regardless of how much she enjoyed it – and how she stormed up to the castle. "That might be why. So, why are we meeting them at this ungodly hour of the morning?" she asked as Alice tossed Lily's robe onto the bed.

"James wants to be the first one to see the callbacks," Alice said.

"And why do we have to be there? I want – no, I need my sleep. I was up really late last night!"

"Wait, what did he say about it last night? Oh, right." She cleared her throat dramatically. " 'For moral support,' or so he says."

" '_Moral support_'?" Lily guffawed, throwing her head back in laughter. "For what?"

"I dunno. I just think he wants us there when he receives the big news, you know, as friends."

"Alice, Alice," Lily wheezed, clinging onto her bedposts to help her breathe, "do you really and honestly believe that James needs actual _moral _support?"

"Well, no," she said simply. "I think he'd be able to cope with it quite fine. He'd think of something else he's really great at – and trust me, there are a lot of – "

"And you don't have to name them all, thank you very much," Lily interrupted, austerely rearranging her bedcovers.

"All right, then, I won't. But, anyway, once he's found yet another one of his talents, he'll start talking his head off again. He could also join the Quidditch Club, which is for people that try out for the House teams and don't make it or for people who just like to play it on a non-competitive level."

"Exactly, so I'm sure he wouldn't miss me if I decided to sleep in for a bit longer. As a friend, like you said, he should understand."

"But, Lily," she pressed, "we promised him."

"I promised him nothing," Lily stated, diving under her covers, which muffled her voice, "and, really, I don't feel like seeing him gloat over making the team or start boasting about how he was unfairly judged just because he's a first year if he doesn't make it. I'm sorry. And, if you want to, you can tell James I'm sorry too."

Alice scowled but left her alone and made her way down to the common room. A few minutes later, she was by Lily's bedside again.

"So, when's the party?" Lily asked sarcastically. "I'll bring the cake."

"He didn't make it," was all Alice said.

James spoke to no one at breakfast and occupied himself with cutting his pancake into miniscule little squares. From where Lily was sitting, he didn't look angry or even disappointed, but his hazel eyes betrayed him. Usually glittering with effervescence, today they were glassy, dormant, and detached. His thin-rimmed glasses were slipping down his nose; he paid no attention to them. Skewering his bits of pancake onto a fork, he deluged them in gobs of golden syrup and stared as the amber droplets dripped back onto the plate.

His blank and emotionless state lasted for the rest of the day and persevered through much of the following week. Lily was too busy to notice: the professors had escalated the first years' workload, feeling that they had had enough time to acclimate into Hogwarts. On top of her academic troubles, her secret encounter with Lucius and Avery came back to haunt her. As she was leaving Potions on Thursday afternoon, her stomach yearning for dinner, she accidentally bumped into none other than Lucius Malfoy, her books spilling onto the floor.

He had recently taken to saying hello to her in the hallways in his haughty voice, and this always drew giggles from the Slytherins that were following in his train. Lily never gave him the pleasure of a conversation and remained obstinately silent. Perhaps it was just her imagination at work, but whenever they passed, she felt Lucius's eyes roam across her body. Could it be at _all_ possible that he found her – attractive? He called me beautiful, she would think, but whenever Lily grew mollified with the idea that Lucius might somehow fancy her, she wrapped her robe ever tighter around her still not-quite-adolescent body and cursed him with every swear word she had ever heard her sister utter.

"Why, Miss Evans!" he exclaimed, watching her seethe with embarrassment. "You really must watch where you're going. Otherwise you might hurt yourself."

"And you really care, don't you?" she snapped, reaching for a random book.

"_Accio_," Lucius sighed lightly, flicking his wand and observing her infuriated glare as the book flew into his outstretched hand. "Now, let's see what Miss Evans has been reading. Carlyle? Indeed, I don't remember seeing that name at Flourish and Blott's."

"Give it back."

He carelessly flung the paperback at Lily, a few ripped pages fluttering to the floor.

"Good day, then, Miss Evans," he smirked, walking towards the Potions classroom as she shrieked with anger.

James's is going to really have to teach me one of his jinxes, she thought venomously. I'll kill Lucius…Just then, she heard his voice. It was, however, laced in a secretive undertone.

"The meeting is tonight. It's in the Transfiguration classroom with the broken plumbing. No one would bother to check there. Eleven o'clock. Do not forget, Avery."

"I won't."

"Have you got anyone to bring with you?"

"Actually, I think I do. He'll be a good addition. Trust me."

"Remember, that is for my discretion _alone_."

"Yes, yes, of course," Avery muttered, shuffling past Lily. "Mudblood, you look even more pathetic when you're sitting in the middle of all your stupid books than you normally do! Get up!"

Oh, shut up, she thought, gathering her books and sprinting down to the Great Hall, her mind full of what she had just heard.

Sitting in the common room that evening, she was anticipating Friday as much as anyone, but the idea that Lucius had a hidden organization running without the professors' permission wouldn't dislodge itself from her thinking, and knowing Lucius and his tendencies, whatever it was he was planning to do certainly couldn't be good. She was sure that the meeting he had spoken of both in front of the Potions classroom and the night in the Owlery were the same, and Lucius had said something about a dark lord…no, _the_ Dark Lord. He had sent the Dark Lord something, and Lily wanted to desperately find out who this Dark Lord was and what Lucius had to do with it.

She had left dinner early to examine the Transfiguration room Lucius had mentioned. Its horrid smell aside, there wasn't much else to it. There wasn't even a closet in which she could hide, and Lily had a dark feeling that if she asked Lucius if she could listen in on his meeting, she would be dead before receiving a reply. If he was merciful, she might be cursed within an inch of her life.

Looking over at the clock, Lily was disheartened to see it was already ten o'clock. At this rate, she thought, I'm going to miss the meeting altogether.

"What's the matter, Lily?" Remus asked, his face pale. "You don't look too well."

"Well, you don't look too well yourself," she said, trying to divert the subject of conversation.

"No, Remus. It's not that she isn't well," James corrected, nodding authoritatively in Lily's direction. "She looks like she's thinking too hard. Be lazy, Lily. Rest your brain. It's Thursday night…almost Friday. The weekend's almost here!"

She knew she was thinking too hard and pushing her creativity to its limit, but Lily needed to find a way to eavesdrop on the meeting without being seen. Maybe, she thought, James will know.

"Hey, James, can I ask you something?"

"Dear me!" he exclaimed, pretending to swoon on the couch. "Is Lily Evans actually going to talk to me without being a – " James stopped short upon seeing her stony face.

"Whatever you were going to say, do us all a favor and don't say it," she said.

"You're no fun, Lily. Did you know that? Okay, jokes aside, what did you want to ask me?"

"Could we, um, move to somewhere a bit more private?" she whispered.

"We could go up to my dorm, if you'd like."

"But – that's the _boys'_ dormitory!" Lily gasped, shocked.

"So what?" James shrugged. "It's not like there's anyone there at the moment. And if I see anyone, you know, doing something _inappropriate_ – " Lily darkly wondered what that might mean " – then I'll jinx him. Just for you, Lily dear."

"Don't call me that. If you're not going to be serious about this, then I'm not going to bother."  
"Fine. It's your problem if you don't want to use my dorm. Where else do you think we should go then?"

"I give up."

"Knew you would. Lily dear," he added, grinning.

"Stop it!"

She followed him up the spiral staircase and into the first year boys' dormitory. To Lily's amazement, it looked exactly the same as the girls' dormitory, only slightly messier.

"See, no one here." James threw his arms out wide as if ready to take a bow. "Very private, if you ask me."

"And not very neat," Lily commented, raising an eyebrow at the robes tossed haphazardly over trunks, lamps, and anything that would serve as a stand. She strolled around the dormitory, shaking her head occasionally. "This one's neat, though."

"And, surprise, that one's Remus's. So, what was so important that you _had_ to ask me about it?"

"I need to know if you know a way of – " She paused, wondering if she should be frank about the entire ordeal. Oh, forget secrecy. "Do you know how I can eavesdrop on someone's conversation without being seen?"

"Ooh, is Lily about to _break the rules_? Maybe _The Daily Prophet_ should be called up – I'm only kidding! Um, well, you'd have to be invisible."

"But that's impossible! You can't be invisible."

"Ah, you forget where you are," James told her. "This is Hogwarts. This is the Wizarding world. Basically anything is possible here."

"So I am supposed to transfigure myself into a particle of dust or something?" she guessed wildly.

"Of course not! Once you have what you need, it's really easy to become invisible."

"Does it have to do with some complicated Potion or spell?"

"No, Lily. Can you please listen to me for once? I'm being serious. See, can't you just see all this seriousness on my face? Whee, look, seriousness!"

"James…" she threatened.

"Okay. What you need is an Invisibility Cloak," he proclaimed.

"And where, may I ask, would you get one of those in less than an hour?"

James opened his trunk and pulled out a flowing cloak made of a languid, silvery material. "It's right here for you. Put it on and you'll be invisible."

"Oh, my God, James!" she murmured as he passed her the light fabric. Lily held it to her face, its cool surface brushing past her cheeks. "Where did you get this? When I went to Diagon Alley, I didn't see any of them."

"It's because you can't get them at Diagon Alley…or in any regular shop, for that matter. There's only one company in the whole world that makes these, and even then, it's only for special requests and a lot of money. My dad needs one for work. He had an extra, so he gave it to me."

"It's so beautiful…"

" 'Beautiful'? It's wicked. And damned useful too. Just put it on and stand in front of that mirror."

Facing the mirror, Lily swung the cloak over her shoulders and screamed.

"I can't – I can't see my body!" she squealed, delighted. "It's still there, though, right?"

"'Course it is. Now, you just need to remember that even if no one can see you, then can still _hear_ you. So to be completely invisible in every sense of the word, I guess, you've got to be silent as well. Oh, and make sure you don't step on anyone's foot or anything. That won't lead to pretty questions."

Taking the cloak off and draping it over the crook of her arm, Lily thanked James profusely.

"If you don't mind me asking," he began, "who exactly are you going to eavesdrop on? Or is that information I'm not allowed to know?"

"You know, I was thinking of telling you, but I'm not sure if I can trust you to keep your mouth shut," she said, leaving the boys' dormitory.

"Wait! Come back!"

Lily cocked her head in his direction. "Why?"

"Don't let anyone know about the Invisibility Cloak, understand?" James warned, pulling her back. "I really don't want people badgering me about it. Put it on now, all right, and go straight to wherever it is you're going."

"I don't see why you should care," Lily mumbled, but she did as she was told and soon disappeared under the cloak.

Slipping out of the boys' dormitory, she managed to edge past the common room with little difficulty. Most of the Gryffindors were crowded around the fire, which left the periphery of the room very open. Carefully, she pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady squawked a shocked-sounding, "Who's there?" as Lily waited, catching her breath, on the staircase landing. Resting her head against the stone banister, she reconsidered what she was attempting to do.

I'm going to wander around in the corridors after hours, hide in a room that's off limits, be around Lucius Malfoy, listen in on something that's obviously private, somehow remember what I heard, wander back through the corridors after hours, _and_ never tell anyone what I did, she thought, slapping herself on the forehead. If I can do all of that without being caught, it'll be a bloody miracle. Well, I'd better get there before everyone else, especially Lucius.

Hoisting herself up, she held the Invisibility Cloak tighter around her body and shuffled down to the Transfiguration department. The meager torchlights flickered as she swooshed past them, and Lily forced herself to slow down so that she nearly floated through the hallways, another one of Hogwarts's ghosts. The pungent stink of broken plumbing lingered in the air, and Lily soon found the room she was seeking. As soft as air, she pushed the door open, relieved to see that no one had arrived yet. She checked her watch and smiled. There was plenty of time to wait.

Lily surveyed the classroom, looking for a hiding place, but therein laid the problem: there _was_ nowhere to hide. The characteristic Hogwarts desks had been removed, possibly to give the caretaker room to work. She walked to the back of the room, where she crashed into a wall of reeking stench. Pinching her nose shut, she backed into the far corner of the classroom and sank to the floor, gathering the part of the cloak that was trailing on the floor closer to her. So, she thought, this must be where the plumbing is broken. No one's going to come near this place; I'll be safe.

The first person that arrived was, predictably enough, Lucius. His tall form, though, was swathed in a long black traveling cloak, and his slit-like eyes, peering out from under the hood, inspected the room. The corners of his mouth turned upward; Lily had to stifle her laughter at having outwitted him and tricked him into believing the room was free of any infiltrators. His pushed his hood back, revealing his signature hair pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck. During the minutes leading up to eleven o'clock, similarly cloaked, hooded figures filed into the room. After whispering something to Lucius, they, too, would push their hoods back. Lily recognized some of them: Bellatrix Black, Sebastian Avery – they were all prominent, pureblood Slytherins. However, she also spotted a few of the older Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws – even a Gryffindor seventh year she had seen around the common room! However, it was clear that the great majority of those gathered before Lucius were Slytherins.

As the time of the meeting drew nearer, the crowd had grown substantially, filling up much of the room. Lily could hear their hushed, anticipatory conversation, but it was suddenly silenced by one last opening and closing of the classroom door. She couldn't see who had just entered, but she didn't need to.

"Ah," Lucius said, "are these your new recruits, Avery?"

"Recruits? I only invited one."

"I see," he purred, his tone growing more threatening. "Might we have a spy in our midst? Introduce yourselves!" he barked.

"Can I introduce _my _recruit?" Avery asked. Without waiting for a reply, he walked up to the front of the room. "This is Severus Snape. A Slytherin, of course."

"And, tell me, Snape, why do you think you would be a good addition to our cause? Are you a pureblood?"

"No," came the soft answer, "but I do know a lot of jinxes that could be useful."

"You're a first year," Lucius dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"He doesn't lie," a loud voice said, but one that was unmistakably female. "I've seen Snape. He duels better and knows more curses than half the Slytherin seventh years. He could be powerful, if you let him, and he's already an established enemy of the Potter kid."

"Bellatrix, I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter. Very well, Snape. I believe I can trust in you." Lucius turned to the other person. "And who are you? Were you recruited by anyone here?"

"I – I came because I wanted to. Avery was talking about it, and – and I was interested."

"Avery, didn't I tell you to be careful about this? Didn't I tell you to be careful about where you talk about matters of this – sensitivity?" He shook his head. "Well, what's your name?"

"Regulus, sir. Regulus Black."

Lily gasped audibly, but her surprise was drowned out by the collected murmurs that filled the room.

"Are you Sirius Black's brother?" Lucius asked, voicing the same question Lily had in mind.

"I – I am."

"Do you think your brother is a blood traitor?"

"Oh, of course I do," Regulus said, firmer. "He never really listened to my parents when they would talk about the family name and the importance of blood. He doesn't honor the name of Black. And now that he's at Hogwarts, he's in Gryffindor – the Mudblood-loving house – and he's friends with Potter and half-bloods. He's…he's every bit a blood traitor."

"Hmm, interesting, but has he taken to supporting the, er, vendetta of Potter's parents?"

"I don't think so."

"So he may yet be saved. You may prove to be useful, Black. Welcome." The tension noticeably lessened as Regulus joined the group. Lucius turned to face the group gathered before him, a half-smirk light on his lips. "And, all of you, welcome to Hogwarts's first ever meeting of the Young Death Eaters Association, founded by me. My name is Lucius Malfoy, as most of you know, and we have a very – _interesting_ year ahead of us, with what the circumstances are.

"But first, I believe a little bit of background information on this association is necessary. No, this isn't an official club – I assure you that if Dumbledore ever caught wind of this, we would all be expelled. Therefore, I hope you all have the wisdom to keep your mouths shut about this business.

"No doubt all of you have heard of Lord Voldemort, alias the Dark Lord. He is still very much unknown outside of pureblood circles and intends to keep it that way until he thinks it would be to his advantage to reveal himself. In this time of history where the Wizarding community is beginning to cave in their judgments of Mudbloods and Muggles, he has been the only one to stand strong in this decline of true Wizarding pride. His close supporters are known as the Death Eaters, who help him in the quest of righting the Wizarding world. They are still few, but their numbers are growing. Indeed, I will be taken into his ranks as soon as I leave Hogwarts and am now serving as his personal scout here at Hogwarts, having only been recently acquainted with him.

"All of you here today are here for one reason and one reason only. You were invited by me…or in Regulus's case, simply wandered in. Remember that simply joining in this club does not make you a Death Eater. Only the Dark Lord can decide that. I act only to give you to the opportunity to display your beliefs. This is because you were chosen based on what I know of your beliefs and the fact that you wish to act upon them, even at this minimal level."

"Why aren't we Death Eaters?" someone asked.

"Like I said earlier, the Dark Lord is – oh, what's the phrase? – going to lie low for a while, and I don't know how long that may be. To have a group of students marching around Hogwarts, proclaiming his name, would not be advisable. He would be most unhappy, I can assure you. Also, the Dark Lord needs supporters who can help him at a moment's notice. We, however, are still here, trapped in this hellhole. However, there are more important issues to discuss. For the first time in recent history, Hogwarts is playing home to not only one – " He paused emphatically " – but two Mudbloods."

Lily felt her back stiffen.

"Clearly, the headmaster is preparing for an overthrow of the traditional order. Using whatever influences he has at the Ministry of Magic, he is trying to push through a piece of legislation called the Muggle-borns Protection Act. This law will give full status to Mudblood Wizards all throughout the area where the Ministry of Magic claims jurisdiction. If passed, the British Wizarding community will be the first in all of Europe to grant those rights, thus setting a dangerous precedent for the mainland. It will also overturn a centuries-old law of limiting the number of Mudbloods admitted to Hogwarts.

"How can we let Dumbledore go through with this? How can we let him allow students in to Hogwarts from a purely Muggle background, when, remember, it was the Muggles that persecuted us so greatly in the past? They drove us from our homes, going on killing rampages. We've seen their destructiveness and their insanity. And are we to allow that sort of filth into Hogwarts, one of the most esteemed Wizarding schools in Europe? By allowing Mudbloods to mingle around us, we wouldn't be honoring those who died to give us the power of magic. We must stand strong in this way of corruption.

"The Ministry of Magic plans to vote on the Muggle-borns Protection Act by next May. Dumbledore and his Mudblood-loving cronies will undoubtedly continue to lobby for it, and it's our job to represent the voice of the people, the people who this law will ultimately affect. Over the course of this school year, I hope that we'll be able to plan a few rallies, all of which will, of course, appear to be spontaneous gatherings and seem to have no connection to the Dark Lord, correct?

"If you wish to continue attending these meetings, please sign your name on this piece of parchment here. If you do not, please come and see me in the Slytherin common room so that I may perform a selective Memory Charm on you. That will be all for today."

Away from the conglomeration forming by Lucius, Lily was able to slip away unnoticed. Breathing in shaky gasps, she wasn't sure what had governed her attention more: the realization that Lucius really was leading an underground organization against people like her or how his speech seemed to ring of historical inaccuracy, especially when juxtaposed with what Remus had told her.

Wizards and witches were persecuted during the Middle Ages – both of them said that, Lily reasoned with herself. That's a definite fact. But what happened after all the persecution? Lucius made it seem like we just suddenly turned against the Muggles and Muggle-borns, but Remus…what did Remus say again? Why can't I remember this?

The scene by the fireplace flashed surreally through her mind. She heard a glimpse of Remus's voice and clung onto it. The words came back to her: _The population of wizards had dropped during the Middle Ages and it was still on the rebound, and for many people, it was, above all, most important to increase the number of wizards._

Lily stopped, thinking deeply. Turning around, she changed her route. She was now heading to the library.


End file.

Harry Potter, Drama