(15 : WHAT'S IN A NAME . . .
THAT WHICH WE CALL A ROSE)

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     "REDWOOD AND PHOENIX FEATHER. TEN inches. Quite flexible. A wand like that is a sign of great change, Miss Fawley," Ollivander had announced when she bought her new wand. However, as she stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Juliet somehow doubted the old man. No great change was coming — not when she was back to where she had started. The cold, stoic Juliet that was infamous amongst the Hogwarts population was back and the bright, fun Juliet that had made an appearance around the Potters was dead. To mark the occasion, she wore black, mourning the girl she could no longer be.

From feeling like she could take on the world to feeling the brunt of her father's anger, Juliet didn't like how her life was spiralling.

On the other side of King's Cross, the four Marauders were elbowing each other in a race to be the first on board — they had an agreement since second year that the last one on the train cleaned the dorm for the first week of the term. All of them stopped when they realised James stood frozen in the middle of the chaotic platform, oblivious to the annoyed parents with trunks and owls swerving him. When James looked up and caught Juliet's eye, time stilled around him. In a matter of days, she had become a shadow of who he knew — her eyes were sunken and sad, but she still walked with pride and purpose.

     "Juliet!"

Ignoring the shout, Juliet forced her way through the crowd and boarded the train in haste. Both James and Sirius were caught off guard by the cold shoulder whilst Remus and Peter were confused. In his usual attentive fashion, Remus scrutinised the crestfallen expression on James' face.

Motioning between their group, Remus shot a pointed look at James. "Care to clue the rest of us in? Since when were you on first name terms with her?"

"I told you I invited her over mine for Christmas," defended James. "You were the one who told me about what happened at Hogsmeade."

Remus shook his head. "I didn't think she'd agree. You spent Christmas with Juliet Fawley?"

"Wait, does this mean we like her now?" worried Peter, feeling left out.

"Yeah, she's cool, Pete," stated Sirius distractedly. "Well, she was before she started ignoring us. Do you think —"

"I'll talk to her later," interrupted James. "She probably didn't hear me. Come on, I'm craving some sugar quills and I want to beat the queue."

     Peter ran after James. "But you don't like sugar quills!"

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Nibbling on the end of a sugar quill, Juliet was thinking of what to write back to a reporter for The Daily Prophet when the compartment door flung open. Under the assumption it was Regulus, the redhead didn't look up from the parchment. The two didn't usually sit together, but Juliet thought it was wise to use the train ride to hammer out the details of their relationship. Regulus had left to change into his robes, leaving his soon to be wife rather anxious. Apparently they were to marry the following June.

"Does this sound lovestruck enough to you?" asked the girl, clearing her throat in a melodramatic fashion. "From the moment we met, I was under his spell. Reggie is the light of my life, a shining star in —"

The new arrival coughed. "Please tell me 'Reggie' isn't who I think it is."

A sugar quill fell from her mouth. "Sirius!"

"Are you dating my brother?" Sirius didn't know whether to gape or gag. "Does Prongs know?"

    Juliet furrowed her brow, running through the group's ridiculous nicknames before it clicked. "James? Why would I tell James?" Her tone was light, comfortable even, then she caught herself and elevated her voice to hold an arrogant air, imitating her mother. "And not that it's any of your business, but we have an . . . agreement. As it stands, everyone will be finding out soon enough. "

     "Brrrr, did it just get cold in here or is it just me?" Mockingly, Sirius pretended to shiver. "I don't know what happened when you went home, but freezing us out is not the answer. James hasn't shut up about you since you left and I won't have him going back to the little kicked puppy he was at the start of the year," he said pointedly. "And maybe I'm worried for you too. Because it turns out you aren't half bad for a Slytherin and then you come back from your parents looking like a ghost."

     "Once again, I'm not you, Sirius," she sighed. "Stop pushing your childhood trauma onto me. I now realise that I overreacted, what happened with Lucius was a misunderstanding —"

   "What happened with Lucius was sexual assault," he whisper-yelled. "You don't have to pretend otherwise, especially not around me. What the fuck did they to do you, Juliet? Tell me because I can't stand here and —"

     Juliet opened her mouth, prepared to rant about how she had no choice but to pretend. Pureblood women were taught to keep their mouths shut and their eyes down. And had she obeyed the first time around, perhaps she wouldn't be still feeling the phantom pains of the Cruciatus Curse days later. Instead of saying any of this, she turned back to her letter and casually rebutted, "Then go. And don't let the door hit you on your way out."

In disbelief of her attitude, Sirius moved to snatch the parchment away from the girl. He dangled it teasingly above her. When she reached to retrieve it, a flash of dark hair captured her attention near the inner window. Immediately, she dropped any pretence of playfulness and wiped her face clean of emotion.

     Sirius reached out to touch her arm, wondering what was wrong.

Digging her nails into the Gryffindor's arms, she loudly snarled, "Don't touch me, filthy blood traitor!"

'Blood traitor' was not a new term to Sirius. In fact, he revelled in it. However, something about it coming from Juliet — the girl that he had baked cookies with, the girl that he had watched his best friend twirl around to Queen — made it like a knife in the back. Shooting her a fierce glare, Sirius stormed out of the compartment, bumping shoulders with his brother in the process. Merlin, James really knew how to pick 'em.

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    When they arrived at Hogwarts, Juliet hid in her common room. Whether James genuinely wanted to talk to her or hex her for what she said to Sirius, there was no doubt in her mind that he would be searching for her. To be honest, she didn't like living up to her house stereotype. If she saw James, she would have to behave as harshly as she had with Sirius because life was all about survival of the fittest. And she was determined be the fittest.

    Her motivations weren't entirely selfish though. By cutting ties with the two boys, she was saving them both from the pain of severing a limb when they ultimately wanted an escape but were too tangled up with the redhead to get out unscathed. Eventually, they would realise that she wasn't like them — she couldn't handle the rough road of stakeouts and suffering in the name of a good cause when the alternative was her sanity. Even if, in spite of all that, they still wanted to be her friend, she would only endanger them and end up painting a larger target on their backs. Without any emotional connections, she was invincible.

    Lonely, but invincible.

    However, her plan to hide from James was quickly dashed when Amos Diggory — the Head Boy that year — informed her that she was scheduled for the first patrol since she ditched the prefects' meeting on the train. 

All she could do was groan in resignation when she left to patrol at 10pm and found James Potter waiting outside of the dungeons with an ugly silver cloak in hand.

"Detention, Potter," she said lazily. "Should I even ask how you knew I was on patrol tonight?"

"Remus." James bit the inside of cheek and prompted, "I thought we could talk. We seem to be pretty good at that."

Reflecting over the various conversations the two had shared, Juliet reluctantly agreed. They had a good balance of the uncomfortable topics and the lighter ones. Not many people could make Juliet spill her guts, but something about James made her want to be more honest. A part of her liked their arguments, liked being able to look at something as if she was the other side of a coin.

The Slytherin tapped her badge and slid past him. "I need to patrol."

He grabbed her wrist. The move was gentle enough that she could have shook out of his hold if she desired, but she found herself enjoying the heat of the skin to skin contact. "Give me ten minutes."

"You're a chaser, right? Let's see if you can talk as fast as you fly because you have five," she bit. "Not that I know why we need to talk. If you think you need to apologise or you've done something wrong, save your breath. Like I told Sirius, it was a mistake running to you. I was being stupid and overemotional."

James paused as if swallowing his initial sentence. "Did you really call Sirius a filthy blood traitor?"

"Mmm, he was annoying me." As if challenging him, she quirked an eyebrow. "What are you going to do about it? Hang me up by my knickers like you did Snape?"

"You didn't mean it," said James fiercely.

Scoffing, Juliet argued, "You're being a hypocrite. I still said it and you can't decide who meant it and who didn't because you like one of us more."

     Conflict passed through James' hazel eyes briefly before he raised his arms in surrender. "Fine, I'm pissed at you," he declared. "Is that what you want me to say? I'm pissed because when Sirius told me you called him a blood traitor, I should've been thinking of all the ways I could hex you to hell and back for insulting my friend, but all I could actually think was, 'I can't believe I was so wrong about her.'" He spoke with a dryness that bordered on manic. "I like hanging out with you, more than I ever thought I would, and it bloody well scares me that I don't know you at all. I let you stay in my house, I introduced you to my parents — — I thought you were a friend."

     "You barely knew I existed three months ago and I was drunk the first time we talked, that's hardly a foundation for friendship." Rolling her eyes, she added, "There's nothing to know about me other than I'm not a nice person — I laugh when First Years fall into the Black Lake and call people blood traitors."

     "But all of this only makes me want to know you," he informed her, unbothered. "I want to know the you behind a pureblood mask. The you that would rather self-sabotage then allow themselves a single moment of happiness." There was no resentment in his tone, only mirthful disbelief. "Sirius isn't even upset, you know. He's angry that you're too thick-headed to realise that he's been hiding bruises and scars for years as well. None of your lies or cover ups or defensiveness will work with us."

     Disconcerted, she stiffened, somehow feeling like those boys had the means to unearth any skeleton in her closet. "There's nothing worthwhile or redeemable about me, so do yourself a favour and drop the hero shtick."

"I don't like you because you're the moral standard, Juliet," he asserted, refusing to break eye contact with her. "I like you because you give me a new perspective on things and I learn from you. I don't want my legacy to be hanging someone by their underwear. When I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to be a prankster, or like I have to constantly jump through hoops to keep your attention. You don't . . . expect things from me."

People had the tendency to think James was incapable of change. They defined him by his pranks and his popularity. After only ever knowing what it was like for people to expect things from her, Juliet could understand his frustrations.

"I don't want to be the boy who never grows up," admitted James, unabashed. "I think you could help me with that. You have a way of —"

Juliet interrupted, "I have a way of destroying everything I touch. You don't want my help and I don't want to offer it."

"I like you exactly as you are," he lamented, frowning. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because I'm a lost cause."

"No," he said, "I think you're just lost."

Fed up of the argument, Juliet backed James against the stone wall. "This," she motioned between them, "will never work."

Exasperated, James caught her hand. "Why?"

"It just won't," she fumbled. "I'm a Fawley, you're a Potter. We were never meant to be anything except enemies."

Something about the graveness of her tone prevented James from laughing. To him, surnames were unimportant. In contrast, Juliet knew the weight carried by one's name — it determined who you were in life and it would always shackle you down in some way. Sirius Black was a prime example. Disowned or not, people cowered when they heard his name because he was a Black.

Even when backed into a corner, James remained arrogant. He cocked his head and questioned, "What's in a name?"

"Everything, Potter."

It took all of Juliet's will power to not glance back as she walked away.

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A.N: Truthfully, I'm not happy with this chapter. It was very difficult to write because Juliet is a complex character that not everyone will understand and James is obsessive, impulsive and dogged in his pursuits. Not to mention he has a bit of a saviour complex. Their argument over being friends this chapter barely scratched the surface of all their issues. Juliet's insecure and has closed in on herself after being tortured whilst James is desperate to grow up and gain more perspective on the world out of Hogwarts. The line "I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me from 'mirrorball' inspired my portrayal of him quite a lot.

Few more notes, I only ever scan before publishing a chapter, which is bad, I know, so I'm going to read the book from the start to finish over the weekend so I can't correct any errors I might have missed initially. This chapter also is opening up the marriage plot between Juliet/Reg. I'm going to liken any interest in their marriage to the public interest in who Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian married before anyone comments. In many ways, purebloods are socialites. And finally, thank you for all the support! We're almost at 15k.