This chapter is dedicated to Madeline because they're such a good writer and the sweetest person all round! Love you darling!
arnoldthe-pygmypuff ♥️♥️♥️

(13th September 1977)

A group of around thirty Hogwarts students sat bunched together in the room of requirement, squashed between each other on navy couches and oak coffee tables. A blackboard stood at the front of the room and a blonde girl, Marlene McKinnon, stood at its hilt– note taking. The group' defining feature, however, was their identical pin badges worn on each students uniform, regardless of their coloured ties. They read Magical Prejudice Protection and they were primarily worn with very little foppery.

Another girl –this one slightly taller than Marlene, hair the colour of red wine and eyes like a snowstorm– paced the room, handing out schedules to the new set of students that had been assigned to assist prefects on their rounds. That measurement had been put in place to keep attacks to a minimum, however, as Aliona Connolly passed timetables to the students selected to take the duties, she couldn't help but think of her best friend, Trudy Nott, she should have been here too, and Aliona really shouldn't be one of the volunteers either– considering she had been attacked almost a year ago now and the agony was still raw. Regardless she navigated the maze of chairs with dexterity and handed a timetable to each student as she addressed them:

"Each person selected will have signed up last meeting, and will be sixth year or above. You'll also notice that the prefects each person is paired up with are never all muggleborn or openly queer. This is fairly self explanatory and to those who don't understand; perhaps the door is the best thing place for you." Aliona smirked at the reaction from a few auspicious students and with a heartening glance at James she continued:

"The students selected are as follows: James Potter and Marlene McKinnon, as head students and MPP members they do not need an accompany, neither do prefect partners Mary MacDonald and Remus Lupin. Aside from that, I will be accompanying one of the Ravenclaw shifts, Zoë Richardson will be doing the other. Likewise, her brother, Marcus will take the first Slytherin shift and the next will be Ozma Periwinkle," the redhead shot Ozma a look of inimical sympathy (if not to beg forgiveness above all else), "and the hufflepuff shifts will be covered with Lewis Dearheart and Alfie McLeod. Any questions?"

Two hands hit the air, one belonging to Peter and the other to Ozma. It was this moment that James Potter decided to step in, allowing Aliona a moment to collect her thoughts. All things aside, James seemed to be good at reading when someone, decidedly Aliona, needed a moment to respite, however fleeting.

"Ozma, sweetheart?" (Aliona shook her head. James had a habit of calling people nauseating nicknames– often even the boys were not exempt from such mannerisms). "You have a question?"

Ozma Periwinkle –a tall girl with dark braids and a soft brown complexion– nodded sheepishly, "I do. Might it be possible for me to swap shifts with Marcus? There might be a conflict of interest between myself and Florence Flint –one of the prefects I'm with."

"And what's that?"

Ozma averted her inky eyes for a moment before triumphing over her internal conflict and meeting James' eye; clearly setting aside a generous measure of dignity: "I punched her boyfriend in the nose last term. She has yet to forgive me."

Now most of the students were laughing, or at least sniggering. It was common knowledge— rumour— that the MPP didn't have the most orthodox methods of dealing with those that crossed them and so members were rarely disciplined for crass behaviour (save Trudy who was no longer allowed to attended meetings, nevermind laugh about it, after her almost-manslaughter last year on Kieron Mulicber).
"Did he deserve it?" She heard James ask once the chuckles had perished like a lightbulb losing power.

"He was creeping me out. He tried to touch me and so I touched him between the eyes!" (And then, much more subtlety, she continued through her teeth) "and again somewhere a little lower."

This time James' laughter rang raucously around the room of requirement like a school bell used my muggle teachers to call their protégés in from breaks.
"In which case: gold star for you."

Ozma beamed, dropping her coyness and replacing it with a puff of her chest– a sense that Aliona was sure she'd possessed the whole time, and Ozma was just perturbed about parading it.

"That settles it then." James snapped his fingers and motioned for Ozma and Marcus to switch timetables. "Peter you had a question?"

Wormtail nodded, rectifying his position on the arm of Remus' couch, "yes. Will the members on patrol change each month?

"Depends how good this lot are. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Now, anything else or shall we go and have dinner?"

Sirius Black raised his hand with gusto, almost as though he were trying to force his limb out its socket.

Marlene readied her chalk, "go well, Sirius."

At the open invitation he leapt from his chair, startling both Peter, Remus and Mary, whom he'd been sitting close to.
"I shall, McKinnon, I shall. I'm afraid to say I was roused by my dear Ozma's valiant act of heroism to confess my own sins to you all."

"There ain't a church for miles Padfoot, and even if there was, you'd probably combust upon entry!" Remus muttered just loud enough to be heard but not to upstage the main event, Sirius.

"Thank you, Moony. Anyway, I might have committed a slight act of violence in the form of a physical altercation avec a dear student who tried calling a first year something vulgar in my presence. The broken nose was a warning."

A handful of students clapped, the rest shared looks of veneration while Sirius took bows from various angles in the room.

"Give it a rest, will you?!" A clip round the ear from Remus put him to rest.

"And did this bastard have a name or is it sexier if you leave it out?" James smirked, leaning a hand against one of the coffee tables and watching Sirius rub his ear, shooting looks at an angelic Remus every now and again.

"A name? Get this: Micheal White."

A few gasps radiated around the room as though the walls were made of metal. Micheal White was a former member of the MPP (former because he was certainly not welcome anymore) and had always seemed nice enough.

Some looked mortified, others galvanised, but the look on Remus Lupin's face was by far James and Aliona's favourite. And Aliona needn't have been told as much as James to understand the look Remus wore in that moment...

♣ ♣ ♣

(13th September 1977 continued)

Remus Lupin thought he was the only one left in the room of requirement when he saw the blonde hair of Marlene McKinnon reappear from behind the blackboard (which was now bountifully cluttered with notes from the meeting) and offer him a smile.

"I wonder what you're still doing here?" She smirked, stalking over to him and perching on the arm of the chair he seemed to be glued to. Of course she already knew exactly why Remus was lingering skittishly but she preferred to make him say it. She believed in the power of vocalising ones bedevils and, in turn, having them ameliorate themselves, even if that meant performing figurative surgery in order to do so.

"I'm just... thinking."

"About?"

Remus looked up at her, his eyes almost pleading, as if he were silently begging her not to make him say it, but Marlene had many qualities, her best being her unshakeable principles and so she prevailed.

"Fine. About Sirius, and being bisexual and... about the possibility of being out."

Marlene allowed her eyebrows to raise with his last revelation but the rest did little to shock her.
"Well," she slipped off the couch's arm deftly and planted herself at Remus' side, taking one of his hands in her own, "I know a thing or two about being bisexual. And it's great fun. I get that being out is different for halfbloods, I've more or less lived like one since my parents split, but that doesn't mean to say it's bad. And this place," her free hand drew a dismissive sweep of the empty room, "this place will protect you. That's it's name sake after all, isn't it?"

Remus nodded, slowly– dubitable.
"And the other bit?"

"As for Sirius... I suppose you could do a lot worse than Padfoot. Mr Hedonism himself."

"You're not selling it."

"Haply."

"See you?" Moony said, bouncing their linked hands as if so indicate whom you was to be, "you're a pain in the arse."

In retaliation Marlene placed her free hand on her forehead, giving off the impression she was to star in a 1920's movie and directed to convey distress.
"I've never been so insulted in my life!"

Remus smirked, clearly he was finding it hard to resist a little sarcasm.
"Well stick around. The night is but young!"
That earned him a clip round the ear (and one or two colourful phrases).

"Bastard!"

"Haply."

♣ ♣ ♣

(13th September 1977 continued)

James and Aliona found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by schedules and forms from the MPP when Aliona found the courage to pose a question she'd been rolling over the past few nights since they'd arrived back at Hogwarts for their final year:
"Why did you ask me to do this with you? Take a bigger part in this? Why now?" (Rather it would appear to have been three questions and not one, but they conformed to a general theme all the same).

"Which one should I answer first?"

"I've not got a pen and paper."

James shot her a supercilious look, his hazel eyes glittered in the light, despite the flatness in the glare.
"Har-bloody-har! Let's start with the easy one, because you already know the answer: I keep my promises and I made Nott a promise. And, aside from that, you're my friend and I appreciate you, and your opinion." His closing remarks evoked a pyretic, contagious blush to rise from his neck.

Aliona could only nod for a moment, not trusting her power of speech with a throat congested by the sort of embarrassment that only an ex boyfriend can awaken.
"You... you still call me a friend?"

"Of course I do. I'd always valued your opinion, even when you hated me the few weeks after we broke up."
The truth was, the pair had broken up mutually, and that hadn't allowed for any reason to resent the other, but –like any healthy relationship– they both strived to look for one as means of consoling themselves. This, in turn, lead to a period of stony, thick silence and looks filled with dread as the knot that tied together their lives slowly loosened. By the time the rope had been fiddled with enough to erase their relationship, the bitterness had faded and an amiable friendship had remained, although not exclusive, and now slightly cumbersome. That was the trouble with a mutual split, especially when split from one's first ever partner: it was difficult to know where one relationship status ended and another began. They'd walked the fine line between friendship, romance and resentment since the end of fifth year.

"I never hated you. Absolutely not. I just liked to imagine I did because it made not being your girlfriend less painful. You were the first person I saw myself almost loving, and then it just sort of ended. It's difficult to get over that sort of shit when you're sixteen," Aliona laughed nervously and allowed the snowstorm in her eyes to avert themselves to the fireplace, pretending to fixate on the grate instead of James.

"Yeah. Yeah me too. It's strange isn't it?"

"What?"

"How we can tell each other this now," he replied, passively admiring the deep red of Aliona's hair from his side view; not in the same way he used to, more in a sort of pleasant worship, "and it's not weird like it used to be. I'd define that as friendship. And, although not the same, Trudy is my friend too and I made her a promise: I promised I'd help her out any way I could."

The girl with the snowflake eyes smiled to the fire grate but James knew the smile was meant for him.
"And so your first call to order was to recruit her best friend as a major player in the club she was devoted to, and banned from?"

"Among other things. And you know I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think you capable. You know first hand how important the MPP is. I need you helping me, so I'd likely have asked regardless. Plus," he grinned, "I'm Head Boy, Quidditch Captian, Head of this club, and chronically shiftless. I need someone sensible calling the shots. I'd ask Marlene but well... you've met her."

They shared a giggle and for a fleeting moment, both forgot that spending time with the other was supposed to be uncomfortable. In that moment it was just a little laughter. It was right.

(15th September 1977)

For the past week or so, walking into the Evans household had become somewhat of a battlefield. The silence felt like navigating no-mans-land and the yet it simultaneously seemed to deafen Lily as she tumbled through it. The silence. It was thicker than rain and louder than a thousand screeches. She learned to fear the silence, and so she filled it with music. Vinyls of all sorts spun on her turntable at any hour in the day, and once they'd been exhausted she would listen to the white noise they emitted for hours on end. Often she would be unable to sleep without it.

And so, Lily quickly grew miserable, surrounded by silence and broken records. And so she wrote. She wrote to James and she wrote to Marlene, and even to Sirius, and Remus. Something's stopped her writing to Esme-Leigh, and she hadn't spent much time with Peter; at least not enough to know what she would say.
James' letter came the easiest. Despite the start to their relationship it felt much easier to pretend the world wasn't half as deplorable with him in it. And so she posted his letter first and, in turn, received the fastest reply from him.

The letters became her refuge, the only thing keeping her sane in the dystopian ambiance that had swallowed her house whole since that day. That day the tension snapped.

She visited Dorcas in her flat, Alice in her bungalow, even Frank in his house. But she prohibited any of them set foot in her own home, she couldn't bare to let them see the ghost town it had become– graveyard it was now.

Her letters were so frequent she'd become acquainted with the postman, a decent seeming chap that always offered her a smile and an oddly familiar wink.

Dear James, (one of her latest letters read.)

I hope I don't appear to keen, if not verging on creepy by writing so quickly to you? I'm desperate for the company recently, nothing seemed to be quite as fun as it was with your lot anymore. I don't think I've ever been quite so happy to have someone who's purpose in life seemed to be to irk me at all given intervals. You'd think I'd be glad to be short of you!

Marlene told Dorcas she was Head Girl in your school? According to Dorks it's a big deal, lots of responsibility. How's she coping? I can't say Id have had Marlene pinned down as a responsible type.

While she was at it, Dorcas also asked if I'd request any information on the Head Boy? I've trusted you, also, to rank their attractiveness. This is because, as Dorcas so eloquently puts it: "despite wholeheartedly trusting my girl, I would very much like to make myself miserable with the prospect of her spending time with someone attractive as a colleague." This makes little sense to me but I've never been in love before so what would I know?

Anyway, how are you getting on? Missing us all terribly, I presume? Sometimes I still expect to see you jogging out the front door of your house from my window, before I remember you're not here anymore. It's so odd to imagine how desolate that house used to be before you moved in. I was convinced the place was run down, a place for delinquents to frequent but you proved us all wrong in that front.
I see your father in the street sometimes, out buying provisions. He seems like a nice man, though I haven't talked to him much. I saw him the other day with a chap calling himself McQuade, chatting about some kind of overwhelming pressure from the department. I hope he isn't in trouble? It's not my business either way, just consider me a concerned mate. (I don't even know what your father does for a living. In any case, just consider me nosy!)

I think that's about all I want to say on paper, of course there are things I'd rather say in person, stories I'd rather tell to your face but no matter. I'll get the chance soon enough. When do you get your Easter break?

I think I'll sign off here, with a quick reminder to get back to me on the Head Boy situation, for Dorcas' sanity as well as my own.

Hope you're well,
Best wishes, Lily xoxo

Aside from the letters there wasn't much for Lily to do but wallow in her own misfortune, revelling in the quiet and bathing in the cloud of tension. The house felt like a ticking bomb at the best of times, but now it had finally exploded and she wasn't quite sure what to make of the wreckage.

Lily sighed, her own voice being the first one she had heard all day as she looked up at the clock on her wall: half one. Alice was supposed to call her half an hour ago.

"Right. Let's go." She muttered to herself, more as a narration to stop the lunacy before it engulfed her life in flames as she stood up and jogged down the stairs to the phone, dialling the number of Alice's home.

It rang for slightly longer than usual before the crinkling stopped and was replaced with a male voice she knew well:
"Hullo?"

"Frank?"

"The one and only."

"Are you at Alice's?"

There was a pause which Lily took to mean he was laughing to himself as the tone that followed was humorous.
"It would appear so."

"That'll be why she didn't call me then?"

"What?"

"She was supposed to call me half an hour ago. No matter. Tell her it's no trouble."

There was a short muffle of voices as Lily heard her receiver being placed on Frank's sweater (she didn't doubt he was wearing a sweater).
"She says she's sorry and she's asking if you wanted to come down? Apparently she's not seen enough of you recently."

Lily frowned, laughing slightly as she spoke, "she saw me yesterday. And the day before at school?"

(Another muffled pause.)
"She says: exactly."

"Alright. I'll be round in half an hour. Behave before I get there, please."

"I'm a saint, Lily, don't you worry about us."

"Okay. Bye then, Frank."

"See you in a bit, Lily."

"Bye."

The line went dead and the silence returned to the house. Coating it like poison.

♥ ♥ ♥

(15th September 1977 continued)

Once Frank put the phone down he turned to see Alice still hadn't moved from her rather peculiar perch on her own single bed. Her legs were firmly on the mattress, socks by the pillow, while her entire torso slipped off the bottom end; she hung upside down with her hair grazing the floor and somehow still seemed perfectly comfortable.

"Come and sit there," she pointed to the rug on front of her and he sat down, a small smile tugging at his lips which she returned.
"What?"

"I just love you is all. You're brilliant."

Even with the blood pulsing around her upside down head it was easy to see the tips of her ears go pink with a blush.
"Kiss me then."

Frank laughed as he leant into to her and placed a kiss on her lips gently, letting his hand linger on the smooth, tanned skin of her cheek after he pulled away.
The vague taste of honey was still lingering on his lips when she spoke again:

"How many times do you think you've told me that?"

"Told you what?"

"That you love me," her tone made it seem like the question she posed was obvious.

"Oh– um... I've no idea!"

Alice nodded as best she could from upside down, "you think it's been more than a hundred?"

"I'd imagine so but I've not kept count before," Frank replied, letting his hand drop from his girlfriend's cheek so he could better study her expression.

"I think we should start. Keeping count, I mean."

Her smile looked brighter than any star in the sky, rival, even to the sun itself; to Frank anyway, and so he nodded.
"Alright. From now on, let's keep count."

He leant in to kiss her again.
"I love you," he told her between short pecks.

"That's one."

"I love you."

"Two."

"I love you."

"Three..."

By the time Lily arrived they'd counted thirty-four with infinite to go...

(16th September 1977)

James Potter knew he was good at quidditch. It was one of the only things he was ever certain of. If the world turned up upside down tomorrow then he's still have quidditch. And it wasn't just him that knew it: just about every Gryffindor knew how good James Potter was as a chaser, they'd follow him blindly like hatched ducklings if he called the shots with enough authority, because when the push came to the shove: nobody dared question the veracity of any order James barked in an ardent, Captain holler.

It was likely this reason that all it took to coax a crowd of about one-hundred into stony silence was a single syllable: "OI!"

Flocks of students in quidditch gear and brandishing brooms stopped mid-sentence to stare in awe at the boy in front of them.
James surveyed the lot for a quick moment, sizing up the group for physical ability and recognising a few faces from the last few years.

"Right! I need chasers over to the right, then beaters, keepers and seekers!" He waved a hand in the generic direction of each station.
"COME ON NOW! WHILE THE SUNS STILL UP!"

The cluster separated hastily into their groups and James nodded in satisfaction.
"Alright then. Let start with some drills."

It took James a concerning amount of time to notice the Esme-Leigh was not among the chasers. She'd assured him that she was willing to try out this year and yet he did a scan of the pitch, once, twice, and she was nowhere to be seen.

"MCKINNON!"
Marlene –whom had previously been throwing a Muggle golf ball between herself and another potential seeker– shot through the air, almost cutting it in half, to meet James.

"Captain?" Her voice was serious but eyes mirthful as she gave him a tenuous wink.

"Have you seen Esme-Leigh? She said she'd be along."

"Oh? I assumed she got detention from the new Defence professor. Her and Remus were causing a raucous at the back of the class earlier today –you must have been organising the trials while it was going on. But you know how Remus can talk shit to save his life, Esme, the poor dear, has no such gift. And so she's likely to be scrubbing the Defence room's floor right about now."

James nodded curtly and made to go and survey the beaters before doubling back, "Mar?" And now there was a smirk on his lips. "Did you hear why Playford got sacked?"

Marlene's face screwed up at the mention of Professor Playfrord– their past Defence teacher and the person responsible for Trudy Nott and the MPP's hearing last year.
"No, I assumed Dumbledore was just hiring and firing to keep up old traditions."

"Well you might want to write to your dad."

"My dad? Steven?"

"No, you're actual dad. Because he, along with... mum, they managed to 'influence' the ministry to advise he be fired."

It was difficult not to grin when images of every time she'd wanted to punch professor Playford began waltzing through her mind, this time, tough, with sweet vengeance coursing through her blood.

"But he's still an auror right? I mean, not that I don't hate him but I heard his fiancée is pregnant."

James shook his head to the side, allowing the wind to coax a raven curl out from his eyes.
"Nah, he's still an auror but he's just not back here. I pity his future wife, whoever the poor soul is; I think I saw her last year, actually –pretty, blonde woman. Very respectable."

"Wonder what she sees in professor crush-your-dreams then?"

They laughed, the vicious wind carrying the amiable sound away like it was attempting to keep the moment elicit.

"Beats me," they were about to laugh longer before a thought crossed James' mind and his hazel eyes went wide in the expression that swept over him, "speaking of beats: I need to be keeping an eye on things. Besides from looking for a team, a few of the second years have homicidal tendencies. Wether they're intentional or not still remains enigmatic."

"Then the best of luck."

"You too. You better play well or I'm not gonna put you on the team."

"Fuck off! I'm the best seeker we've had since we were first years!"

James smirked and nodded towards the group of potential seekers. "Then prove it."

♣ ♣ ♣

(19th September 1977)

Some days just seem to be brighter than others. The weight on one' shoulders subdued and a smile finds a way to creep up on one' features.

It was difficult to tarnish those sorts of moments, but perhaps there was one person that might have been able to. As Marlene, James and Remus stumbled along to the courtyard to find Sirius and Peter they bumped into, whom they would consider, a person capable of wilting spring with his surely existence. Severus Snape.

"Oh wonderful, he looks like he's going to talk to us," Marlene grumbled, stopping in her tracks and submitting to the malign snarl that took over her, making James and Remus feel a little uneasy to say the very least. They may have been friends but she still had an undeniably virulent aura about her.

"Seriously," James spat poison, "does he mark his diary to get on my tits?"

"Maybe if we stay very still he might not see us?" Remus suggested, ignoring James, "you know like with vermin? Or gorillas?"

James snorted but did not gratify the suggestion with a response. Instead he eyed Snape with an expression hot enough to melt the polar ice caps.
"Snivellous. It's a pleasure to see you. To what do we owe the privilege?"

Marlene smirked. It was past noon, and therefore ultimately acceptable to make snide remarks like that one. Although most bets were off when it came to Severus Snape.

"I thought you ought to know the truth about that girl you've been hanging around with during the summer."
His voice was deeper than it had been before the summer, but its tone was still jarring, like the sound a storm cloud might make, like he was perpetually on a knife's edge.

Almost immediately after the words took affect Marlene was the first to straighten up, her blue eyes turned from a summer sky to an icy winter at the drop of a hat. She stepped forward to size him up. Severus' voice might have dropped a key, but it was clear he hadn't grown much. He couldn't have been much taller than her and so it made her look even more minatory when she reached his eyes with the sort of peril that could leave scarring.

"I hope to merlin you're not talking about my girl?" Their noses were almost touching she was so close, nearly spitting fire. The other two boys were stunned into temporary oblivion.
"Because if you were, then I'm sure they'll be careful with your coffin when they ship it back to Cokeworth."

Severus didn't back down, although it was clear he was tyrannised.
"No. I'm here to talk about Lily. The girl I saw you with, Potter."

James felt himself pale before Remus grabbed his wrist, in what he first thought was a defensive move, but later realised he was stopping James from reaching his wand. Smart man, he thought.

"What about her?" Marlene asked, her lips still a dangerous snarl, she'd yet to back down from her stance.

"I wouldn't trust her if I were you. Back off from her, she ain't who she says she is," Severus' surprisingly gravelly voice had a hint of desperation to it. Clearly, James had been right in his affliction to Snape when he'd seen him glaring at himself and Lily over the summer.

"Are you trying to warn us?" Remus said, his voice soft, although he were talking to a lover, "because in which case that is very sweet, but I think we can handle being friends with whomever we like. Thank you for the concern, darling!" He grabbed Marlene's wrist and pulled her back, she was still fizzing like a bottle of lemonade but seemed to calm a little once she wasn't so close to him.

"You better watch what you say," James spat, "because if you don't then I'll get the sudden desire to catapult your scrotum into your neck be means if kneeing you in the balls. Are we clear?"

Before Severus got the chance to open his mouth Remus had tugged Marlene's wrist with the hand that wasn't already on James' and dragged the two of them away, shooting Severus a look that might have put him on a murder trial if looks could indeed kill.
"As much as we've loved the catch up, we need to scram before someone's on trial for homicide." He smiled caustically and with that all three of them were on their way.

"Bloody arsehole."

"Merlin, Moony! Why didn't you let me hex him?!"

"Because, blondie, I can't be arsed writing out a detention slip for you if we were caught!"

James shook his hand free from his friend's grip and sidestepped in front of them, walking backwards to maintain their pace.
"You'd need to get a slip approved by me first. And I would have lost my glasses that day," he gave Marlene a roughish wink and she smirked.

Moony seemed to give up, seen as he was outnumbered until they found the others.
"Fine. Let's just go and get the boys, they'll be in the courtyard. I don't know about you but I think today might be the only weekend where we've got decent sun for a while."

They found Peter, Sirius and Esme-Leigh quite easily, mainly because they seemed to be the centre of attention –nothing new– but also because Esme looked especially fretted. Peter was doing his best to comfort her but the gaping fly-catchers for mouths that a few first years were sporting made it easy to hazard a guess as to what had just happened.

"Which slimy twat have you had to turn down this time?" Marlene demanded, jogging up to her best friend and embracing her. It was a common occurrence to find Esme had been forced to reject, yet another, abject advance. Her veela blood made it principally impossible to go through a week without something similar happening.

"Anything interesting?" Sirius snapped at the group of younger students, still intent on watching.

Remus gave them a quick glare, flicking his prefect badge and tapping the side of his nose. The first years didn't stay long.

"It was Brodie O'Connor." Esme sniffed once it appeared that the show was over to most spectators.

James screwed up his nose, "I've always hated that bloke. Shifty little prick." There was something in his words which seemed to convince his internal monologue that it wasn't his hatred for Brodie that drove his reaction to Esme's upset, and more the fact that he'd done what James wished he'd done years ago: asked out Esme. Then, maybe, if she'd said yes, he wouldn't be in this mess with Lily (regardless of whatever last name she was going by).

"No kidding, Prongs!" Sirius glowered all of a sudden. James guessed it was something to do with the fact Remus was kneeling on front of Esme and muttering sweet words of reassurance into her ears, lulling her anger to simmer and upset to cease.

"Shut up. You know what I mean! We've all had a bit of a shite day. The three of us bumped into Snivellous just there. I think Marlene was ready to kill him."

Peter groaned, "what'd he want?"

"Pestering us about Lily Simpson and Marlene's girl– that lot. 'We can't trust Lily!' Because we're all gonna buy that." The sarcasm he'd laced in his voice sounded a little forced, mainly because it was. He wanted to convince his friends to forget about the doubt Snape had tried to plant in them about Lily. Something told him that it was best to keep his recent discovery about her identity incognito.

"I'd liked to have been there to see the blood," Esme-Leigh laughed. (James glanced at the ring on her middle finger, it was blue –upset– but slowly fading into a new colour, though it was too early to decipher what it was). Regardless, James though her laugh sounded like a perfectly clear, starry night– if such a thing could talk, that is.

"You'd have been disappointed. Some bloody spanner ripped us away before I could hex him."

Remus rolled his eyes, "and as I told you before: I ain't filling out the detention slip. Getting the bloody thing processed is a nightmare!"

"Whatever. I've got a better idea."

"Fire away, Confucius."

Ignoring Remus and his flagrant scepticism of her plans, she continued:
"We could set up a prank together? Maybe on O' Connor?" She grinned with a look that might have been gifted to her by the devil himself.
"We could make a night out of it! I'm sure Sirius'll find some firewiskey and we could even invite the other girls from the dorm! Merlin knows they've probably got some form of grief from the bastard! And we could introduce them to Marauders Dares!"

"You know what? I think that sounds like a brilliant plan!" Esme-Leigh was smiling, a smile that might knock any living creature dead with the thought of not seeing it again. James noticed her ring seeping into a baby-pink– mischief.

(19th September 1977)

Dorcas Meadowes had a very long list of personal attributes. She was kind, funny, loyal, thoughtful, hot-headed, but for the most part, Lily realised that being best friends with Dorcas was like having a labrador: she followed Lily just about everywhere she went, yapping about this or that; she adored children and would seek out any opportunity to play with them; and she loved it when Lily stroked her hair.

Keeping a petulant pet was an insignificant price to pay compared to all the wonderful things about Dorcas, but sometimes Lily wondered if it would be unreasonable to miss the days that personal space existed.

That moment was one of weakness for Lily. She was in her bedroom, rummaging around her shelves for the letter James had sent a few days back to show Dorcas– the one concerning Marlene and the Head Boy.
The aforementioned had situated herself so close to Lily's back that she could feel the rise and fall of Dorcas' breathing coming from her chest, and she could feel it on her left ear too.
Resisting the cajoling of her subconscious to shrug Dorcas off, Lily produced the letter from behind a bunch of trinkets that sat near her cameras.

"A-ha!"

Dorcas smiled, parading teeth like pearls in her candid enrapture.
"Well, can't I read it?"

"Sure thing." She handed Dorcas the letter and she took it like a dog offered a stick, planting herself on the edge of Lily's bed and seeming to inhale the letter with the speed she was reading.

Dearest Lilykins,

Everything's been going swell up here. The younger kids are smaller still. But you'll know all about that, although I'd like to see you try and have them around you all day.

You'll be pleased to know that I've procured as much information about the Head Boy as I can. I don't want to give it away but he's a wonderful chap, top class sort of bloke. As for a rate of attractiveness: I'd have to say heartbreakingly so. Although, tell Dorcas she's nothing to worry about, I sincerely doubt he's got any interest in Marlene. In fact, he's rather preoccupied with another girl...

I'm sorry, I couldn't resist being a touch dramatic. You know me. Which is why it should be even harder to believe that the Head Boy is me. I was shocked too, but alas I've long since grown used to it. Mainly because we get our own common room and office which makes the job seem a lot more swanky than it really is. (Which is fairly boring).

I'll write to my father, although I'm not sure what the conversation you overheard meant. He works for the government, if you must know. And Millard (the man you heard going by McQuade) is sort of a right hand man. If you hear anymore then write without delay. I can't stand the thought of you knowing my fathers out a job before I do. What a moral high ground!

Thank you for the letter, Lily. I should go, but I hope we can make this a regular thing?

Kindest regards,
James Potter (your new best mate)

Once she'd finished reading the letter, Dorcas looked up, her pretty eyes wider then saucers.
"So James is the Head Boy?"

"It would appear so."

Dorcas shook her head, scrunching up her nose and sending charcoal curls flailing around her head in spring-like coils.
"That frightens me in a completely different way."

"What way?" Lily frowned, joining Dorcas on the bed.

"In the sense that a poor school, of more than a thousand kids, has James Potter in a leadership role."

"Yeah?"

"Lils, we've met him."

"I know... oh! Yeah, I can see it now," she looked off out the window absently, as if all the answers to the universe lay on the other side of the glass, "poor bastards."

They laughed at the mere thought of Marlene and James as Head students. They didn't have Heads in Cokeworth but prefects held enough responsibility as it was, without having to deal with the kerfuffle a boarding school was sure to bring. It was cataclysmic to even imagine the disaster that would arise under the reign of James and Marlene.

"Enough of this," Dorcas tried to wheeze, but ended up lost, once again, in the laugher.

Lily hadn't heard anything like it in ages– at least not in her own house. It was still like a cemetery down there and so that's why Dorcas had come. That's why Dorcas always came. She was there for Lily when she didn't even have to ask. A bit like a pet dog, she realised with another chuckle.

♥ ♥ ♥

(19th September 1977 continued)

Riding a bicycle was one of Lily's most treasured joys. It felt like flying on the ground– rolling down hills, zipping along pavements and bumping along grass. She didn't have much to compare to the feeling of flying but she imagined it was somewhat like what she was experiencing then: utterly untethered; wind coursing along her hair, like it was giving it a life of its own; and a smile on her lips, catching little bits of her hair now and again, but she didn't falter.

She had been cycling the first time she saw James and the others. Remus, Sirius and Peter were there too, and yet she could remember James' face like it had jumped to her, calling her. She remembered the aversion she had felt when he winked before she cycled off, now it seemed almost endearing. Now she knew James, anytime he did seemed endearing.

As wonderful as cycling proved to be there was one major downfall: it was much quicker than walking. To some, this was yet another bonus, but Lily would much rather revel in the romance of her surroundings whenever she found herself in the position to do so. That was what made it all the more disappointing when Indulge cafe drew into view.

Caroline, the waitress, greeted them with a delightful smile when the two of them slipped into the place.

A newspaper was sitting on the table that the last customer here had clearly left behind. The front page was becoming increasingly familiar:

TWO CHILDREN STOLEN FOR THEIR BEDS IN NORTH LONDON

There was little sense in reading the story by this point, too many children had gone missing for it not to get repetitive: children stolen from their beds; window left open; no pattern to the takings; no witnesses; and in most cases the police declined comment. However in this case there were clear quotation marks at the bottom of the article.
Feeling an odd pull to the story, Lily snatched the paper in her hands and sat down in the booth without much thought. Dorcas slipped in the chair opposite and ordered for both of them while Lily read the paper...

.... we asked Scotland Yard's Detective Inspector Robin Knight for comment: "this is a pressing time for Londoners, we know, but remaining calm is the key. Finding a pattern and looking for flaws in the kidnappers MO is our main priority, as ever. We have begun working with a new unit of specialists who can hopefully shed some light on our terrible situation." DI Knight is expected to address the nation later this week.

The article followed a column written by one of the parents –a Mancunian woman who's daughter went missing as one of the group who disappeared earlier in the summer– she called, justly, for Knight's resignation.

Lily sighed, looking up to see Dorcas watching her, the coffee had already arrived and a caramel latte sat in front of her.

"How'd you guess?"

"It's your favourite drink when you've had a crappy couple of days. Which I know you've had."

Lily shrugged, sipping the coffee like it was made of molten gold.
"The house is like hell at the moment. I don't know what to do. It's beyond fixing now."

"Nothing is ever beyond fixing. Ever."

Lily smiled, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear and evading the smouldering gaze of her best friend.
"You don't know that." It was a whisper to most, entirely invisible to some, but Dorcas heard perfectly.

"But I do. Look at you and James. You both said horrible things from what Marlene told me, and now look at you. After the funeral you two had this... this bond– like you'd been attached to each other somehow," she smirked, "and I'm still not entirely convinced you didn't have sex. I don't care what you tell me."

She laughed in spite of her self, rolling her eyes in attempt to hide her amusement.
"We did not have sex!" (A few people shot them a look and Lily blushed. This place was a little too quiet for her liking.)

"Sure thing, Lil."

"We didn't!"

"Whatever. You're the boss."

They were both stifling giggles now, and Lily realised the best thing about Dorcas Rae Meadowes: Despite her annoying tendencies to act like a Labrador, she knew exactly how to cheer her best friend up. Never prying, never even asking. Just making it better for the short while they were together.

(19th September 1977 continued)

It hadn't taken much to convince the other girls from the seventh year dorm to join then in planning a prank against O' Connor. Despite none of them being excessive vagabonds in their time, it went without saying that Bodie had given all three of the other girls a reason to wish him ill. And so just after curfew, there was a holler from outside the door of the Heads Common Room:

"OI!" Said the holler (which sounded an awful lot like Trudy Nott).

Soon enough the face of Marlene McKinnon replaced the portrait on front of the girls.
"Ah, you made it!" She beckoned them in whilst calling to James over her shoulder, "darling! The guests hath arrived!"

James materialised from a room that looked an awful lot like an office, "I'm serious about filing a sexual harassment the workplace order, blondie. Maybe your girl was right about what she said in the letter?"

Marlene snorted, paying little heed to the fact their three guests had a very limited amount of information to hazard a guess as to what this was about. Regardless, she seemed to find it amusing.
"There is not enough firewiskey in the world, sweetie pie."

"Whatever," James swatted the air like it was infested with fleas, "shut up and play hostess."
He disappeared into a different room (haply his bedroom) and closed the door behind him. Said door talked to them after that before the voice faded:
"Looking splendid, by the way, ladies!"

Seeming to take his advice, Marlene swivelled around to face her friends.
"You guys are the first to arrive. The boys and Esme are off getting some shite from the kitchen."

"I hope you don't mean that in the lateral sense," Trudy smirked, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived.

"I hope I don't either but Sirius is a member of that party so I've learnt that anything is possible and just to sort of go with it." Once again the air was swatted– the two Heads seemed to have spent enough time together to pick up each other's mannerisms.
"Also, Prongs was right. You lot look fabulous. New top, Aliona?"

They smiled and Aliona nodded rather sheepishly, no matter how often– and impromptu– Marlene complimented everyone it never seemed to lose its effect. Everyone unknowingly yearned for her approval, perhaps that's what made her such a tenable candidate for head girl.

"Anyway, take a seat. According to James, I'm playing hostess but there's jack to do until the boys arrive with the drinks."

The girls sat down, Mary on a chair opposite Marlene and the other two knee to knee on the burgundy rug.
"Where is James, anyway?"

"He went to get changed. I'm sure you'd have loved to be here twenty minutes ago when the indolent fucker was strutting about missing a shirt– sorry Aliona, dear."

Aliona blushed and shook her head in attempt to cover it up, "you're a nightmare, you are."

"Oh I know. Anyway, he's putting on some nice clothes– it is a party after all. Of sorts." She added the final clause as an afterthought and accompanied by a pert wink.

As if on queue, the Head Boy bounded out the bedroom, wearing a grey shirt, untucked, and rolled up to his forearms. He grinned when he saw the girls and went to join them, taking a seat next to Marlene on the settee.
"Splendid. I hope you weren't talking about me?"

Aliona snorted, "not in the slightest."

"You've always been piss poor at lying, sweetheart."

"Shut up."

He held out his hands and scrunched up his nose at her, "alright your majesty."

Marlene smacked his arm, "you're the only drama queen I see."

"Just you wait until Sirius arrives, then."

Eventually he did, shouting the password loud enough to make the Ravenclaws in the opposite tower clutch their ears.
"Here comes the real party!" cried Sirius Black, leaving everything behind him in a trail of devastation.

"I wondered when we'd be gettin' drunk!" Mary sighed, standing up to snatch a bottle out of Sirius hands and opening it with her teeth.

"Merlin, Mary! I forgot you were secretly cool!" Esme-Leigh grinned, she looked as though someone had handed her the world on a plate.

"You should have been paying more attention, then!" Mary laughed in retort, taking a long sip and passing it to Esme. "Your turn. I've only ever drank with you a couple times but from what I've heard you're a hilarious drunk."

"Let's get pissed!" Sirius seemed to rejoice in the promise of alcohol, flinging himself between Trudy and Aliona, claiming they looked 'too cozy'.
Neither argued but both felt a little more empty pushed apart...

♣ ♣ ♣

(19th September 1977 continued)

"We could... we could... I dunno!" Trudy sighed, firewiskey sloshed out the bottle and dropped onto the floor as the threw her arms down in despair.

"I think I'm a little..." Peter hiccuped, "little too drunk fir' makin' prank plans."

"Agreed. I got an idea!" Sirius held a finger above his head, mimicking a lightbulb, "we could play Marauders Dares!"

A chorus of oohs and ahhs surrounded the room until Mary had the bright idea of asking what that was.

"Oh, it's like Truth or Dare but... but with money n' a fuck tonne of other... rules that I can't be arsed thinkin' about."

Esme giggled airily and nodded.
"I didn't even bring any money."

"Shame."

"What's wrong with normal truth or dare? Trudy asked.

"Not much."

"How about it then?"

Remus shrugged, "as long as Sirius goes first."

Soon enough they had descended into utter chaos. Sirius had danced on the table, Esme-Leigh and Peter had sung Bohemian Rhapsody and Marlene had done a handstand.

By the time James had chosen truth he seemed to have been the only person to have done so thus far.

"Alright," Peter screwed up his face in thought, giving him an odd resemblance to a rodent zapped in an experimental maze.
"Alright," (he said again) "which of your ex girlfriends do you like the most?"

Despite being a decent amount sloshed, James was still able to ponder the question with enough level of reason before answering: "Aliona." Strong and sure of himself, even pointing the nose end of his firewishey towards her, as if he were pointing her out, save Peter forget who she was.

"Really?" Aliona cried, maybe the firewiskey was muffling her hearing. "What about Jasmine?"

James shook his head, nearly seeming disgusted by the thought, "Jazzy isn't here. Besides, I like you better anyway."

"Yeah," Sirius smirked, "you never forget your first sha— OW!" He was punched in the arm and clipped round the ear by Mary and Remus, respectively.

"SIRIUS!"

"Alright! Keep your hair on, I was kidding!"

"That's not the point!"

Everyone was too busy arguing to notice Trudy. To anyone paying enough attention they might have seen her shoulders slump a little, the sparkle slip from her eyes at the mention of Aliona with James. And especially at the shade of crimson they had both blushed. The only other person any shade similar was Esme-Leigh, though she looked more sour than Trudy– she was more upset, maybe even miserable. Esme just toyed with the silver ring on her finger...

Sirius had stolen a quill set from McGonogalls office, Esme-Leigh had locked Mrs Norris in a broom cupboard and James nearly set said cupboard on fire. However, arguably the best dare of the night came from Mary and it was directed towards Remus:

"I dare you... to try out for quidditch commentator!"
A few people looked up, grinning with the prospect and bouncing up with the mere idea of it coming true.

"What?!"

"Oh please!" Mary wailed; apparently when there was firewiskey around she wasn't a waterfall of emotions, she was an open book. Inhibitions and all.

"I can't say no, now can I?"

The room erupted in cheers and Remus took a bow. By handing out this dare, Mary had genuinely done the group a favour, Remus had an awful habit of watching the games and commentating to his friends and so this was perhaps best for everyone else as well. If not to get the sarcastic twat to shut up from the murmuring in their ears during matches.

After that, things went by in flashes. Bottles drained slowly, the room filled with thick cigarette smoke and good music oozed from a gramophone Remus had found –and nicked– from a store cupboard and it worked on the first shot (Remus had become somewhat of a kleptomaniac over the years, but usually just chocolate, gramophones were, admittedly, a size up).

Marlene sang almost every ABBA song while Sirius belted Queen like this life depended on it. It was only after a group rendition of Rocketman that people started descending into comatose states.

Mary and Esme-Leigh stared at the fire next to one and other, making stupid jokes that only really seemed to make sense to them.

Sirius pulled Remus onto the rug with him, insisting on him being 'the best to cuddle'. The two boys lay on the floor, Remus feeling a little bit out of place and by the looks of things he was doing his best not to enjoy the ephemeral moment of intimacy too much.

"I'm a bit... uncomfy!" Remus grumbled, trying to shift into a better position but Sirius had already rooted himself into Remus' side in such a way that moving seemed like an impossible feat.

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" He slurred, squeezing his eyes shut with the effort of battling the drunkenness.

"That's Clark Gable –Gone With The Wind!" For a moment he seemed almost excited at the discovery he still knew basic trivia before there was a frown on his lips, "I've always thought he was a prick."

Sirius hummed, not bothering to look up, "me too."

"Hmm."

Marlene, likely the least drunk of the lot, surveyed the damage. They'd need a shit tonne of Pepper-Up-Potion tomorrow.
Mary and Esme had fallen asleep, so had Remus and Sirius. Peter seemed to be dipping in and out of a delightful dream from the armchair and James was searching for his muggle lighter around the room, probably the most klutzy she'd ever seen him.

"Are you...you girls staying or going?"

Trudy and Aliona shrugged, "I guess we'll go. I think... I think I'd like a bed to wake up in. You know, tomorrow?" Trudy waved a hand around as if it were perfectly feasible to forget tomorrow was an oncoming prospect.

"Good- good call."

Trudy nodded, "don't forget we need some of the p— the potion tomorrow, please?"

"I won't forget." Suddenly Marlene was smiling, "forget me not... forget me Nott!"

The girls giggled just as James cried, "I've got it!" Brandishing a lighter as though he were about to rage into battle with it.

"Good job! Now be a good boy and walk the girls back to their dorms!" Marlene spared a moment to clap her hands in caustic applause before pushing him towards Trudy and Aliona.

James stumbled and nearly fell on top of Trudy before he righted himself and grinned again.
"Shall we ladies?"

Trudy chuckled, stumbling a little too, "where would we be without you, eh?"

♣ ♣ ♣

(19th September 1977 continued)

James had left them by the door and was long gone by the time the two girls had reached their dorm, giggling and shushing each other even after the door was closed behind them.

Aliona managed to pour each of them a glass of water from the tap without spilling much of it on the floor.
"Here." She said, putting Trudy's in her hand but she didn't keep it.

All of a sudden the glass crashed to the floor and Trudy looked more sober than she had when they'd left earlier that night. Almost as if he hadn't drank anything at all.

Maybe it was the way their hands brushed when the glass switched possession; maybe it was the small, delicate smile on Aliona's lips; the ethereal clouds in her grey eyes or maybe it was something she'd known a very long time. Or perhaps it was just pure idiocy, plain and simple lunacy, tied with a silver bow and a pretty ribbon to make it seem more appealing to her lips...

Trudy didn't breathe, didn't blink and, vitally: she hardly thought.

"I love you."

Aliona grinned, dazzling the room with her beauty; completely ruining the moonlight for Trudy as her eyes were much better to stare at.
"I love you too, idiot! To the moon and back, remember?"

"No, I don't mean—"

Something flashed in her heart when she saw Aliona's smile and she knew that it had to be now. It had to be now or she would never be this stupid again.

Trudy took her hand, she other one was on her shoulder. Suddenly they were very close, and she was feeling very stupid. So she kissed her.

Aliona's insides burned against Trudy's lips more than the firewiskey had ever burned her throat. The kiss seemed to scorch her, turn her into flames. In fact, she wasn't sure she could rule out the prospect she might spontaneously combust.

Aliona' lips were softer than Trudy had ever dreamt they would be. And although she could taste the firewiskey it was still distinguishable from her. Her was peppermint and coconut, her was safety and peril, flying and falling all at once.

It was over far too soon, less than a few seconds, but Trudy had a feeling that peppermint and coconut would never quite leave her dreams.

But there was something else.

Something else that would haunt her dreams too...

And it was the look of horror plastered, over Aliona's angelic face. She looked like she was the star of a Greek tragedy. The beautiful star.

"Oh no." Trudy took a gaping step back, she swore she felt the floor crack beneath her feet, separating them both, putting them at opposite sides of the world...
"Oh no no no no."

"Trudy I—"

"—you don't love me to the moon and back like I do." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She didn't need to ask because she knew her best friend, her only love, better than she knew herself and that meant feeling and reading the agony on her face, in her tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes, shattering as salty tears spilled out.

Aliona knew it wasn't a question, but she dignified it wit an answer anyway, feeling her gaze dwindle as her glassy eyes shattered and submitted to a flood of tears. Her voice had failed her, leaving only a wispy response, soft like silk but broken like the material had ripped...

"No."

Aliona gazed at Trudy for a moment longer, feeling her vision distort with the tears clouding her eyes; reducing her best friend to a small, indistinct shape. She didn't look like her best friend anymore. She looked like a shadow, a stranger.

So Aliona turned and ran like hell, the buzz of the firewiskey long since drained away, leaving her feeling numb...

Anyway... sorry about that.
A lot of this was just a collection of scenes I needed to slot in somewhere in order for the story to work (except of course the last bit) but from now on it should feel a little more structured.

Full disclosure, I was struggling to find a running theme and by the time I had one it was too late so I took it out. It might come in the chapters to follow? Who knows? Certainly not me!

Anyone got any theories? I'd love to hear what you think Aliona is going to do?

Love you all,

Abbi♥️