Prelude to Destiny

Chapter 11

Going Home Again

Whispers raced around the Great Hall when Lily appeared beside Headmaster Dumbledore at the entrance.

The headmaster had come down to the train station to personally escort her back to the Hogwarts grounds, citing moral support as his motive. Lily had insisted it wasn't necessary, but now that she stood awkwardly in the Great Hall with people turning in their seats to get a better look at the-girl-who-arrived-late, Lily understood the real reason Dumbledore had come: to keep her from turning around and heading straight back to the train station.

But Dumbledore needn't have worried about Lily running, much as she wished she could. Instead, being both strong in character and stubborn to the point of sickness, she remained in place just long enough for everyone to see her. Then she smiled, said a polite thank you to the headmaster, and walked over to the Gryffindor table. At least she tried to walk to her table. Before she reached her destination, three friends came rushing over

"I'm so glad you're okay," said Tracy, running straight at Lily and enveloping her in a hug near the Hufflepuff table. Lily winced. Hugging hurt.

"Yes. Very glad," said Christine as she reached and hugged Lily. That hurt too, but it felt so good to see her friends that she didn't care.

Sam stood slightly behind them, looking at Lily with large, scared brown eyes. Never one to like being the centre of attention, hugging her friend in the middle of the Great Hall terrified Sam and it meant a lot to Lily that she had attempted it. Or it would have meant a lot to Lily if she hadn't been so annoyed with being the focus of every student's gaze.

The friends walked over to the Gryffindor table together-- Tracy and Christine talking and Sam remaining silent-- where Lily sat between Sam and Tracy as Christine sat across from them.

"Why's everyone looking at me?" Lily asked, glancing around the room.

"They're just curious about why you came to school late," Tracy said, turning on the bench to face Lily more fully.

"They don't know?" Lily asked, narrowing her eyes at a Hufflepuff who was pointing at her.

"They probably do. It's Hogwarts," said Tracy, squashing Lily's hopes that she could avoid becoming a part of the Hogwarts Rumour Mill. "Rumours move faster than snitchs here."

"That sucks," Lily said, propping her elbows on the table and rubbing her temples with her pointer fingers.

"No it doesn't. You're famous," Christine said, buttering her roll.

"I'm not famous," Lily said, raising her eyes to look at Christine across the table. "I'm not even noteworthy."

"Sure you are. You were there. I heard that you might have even seen Voldemort, though I didn't believe the bit about you duelling with him," Christine said, only sort of kidding. Lily looked at her blonde friend with wide eyes, wondering what sort of rumours she had actually heard.

"How in the world could you even consider that?" asked Lily, not bothering to keep the incredulity out of her voice. A seventeen-year-old duelling Voldemort was the stupidest thing Lily had ever heard. No one could survive that.

"Wouldn't that be cool, though, for you to had duelled and beaten the Dark Lord?"

No! Lily wanted to shout, wanted to scream. But instead she tuned her friend out and turned back to her plate, trying to forget the haunted look in Director Brooks's eyes when she spoke of her predecessor and her Auror friend Mr. Prewett. Trying not to dwell on things she could not change, Lily turned her mind to how good she felt to be at Hogwarts again. And it did feel good, didn't it?

At the end of dinner Headmaster Dumbledore came over and politely coughed to gain Lily's attention.

"Oh!" Lily said, spinning in her seat to look at Dumbledore, wincing slightly as she realized that turning around like that made her chest ache.

"Miss Evans," Dumbledore said, inclining his head briefly in acknowledgement of the rest of the students at the table, "would you please come with me?"

"Of course," Lily replied. She glanced at her empty plate and the unappetizing platters of food before smiling at her friends and standing to join Dumbledore. He smiled then motioned for her to walk with him. Once outside the Great Hall, Lily let a breath out that she was not aware she had held throughout dinner.

"It will become easier," Dumbledore said quietly. Lily looked over and noticed that his blue eyes were looking right at her even as he led her through the corridors. "Every meal, every day, it will become a little easier."

Lily did not know why she had to blink back tears as she nodded in response to his words. She did not know why her throat tightened. All she knew was that she hated feeling this weak. She hated that people noticed when she entered a room and surely noticed when she left. She hated that it had been difficult to sit with her friends and hear about stupid rumours and stare at food she did not want to eat.

"Where are we going, sir?" Lily asked, changing the subject and looking back down the corridor.

"The Healers from St. Mungo's have given very specific instructions to Madam Pomfrey regarding your care. She wishes to discuss the details with you. She's very fond of detail discussion." Dumbledore smiled a little to himself, then, as if enjoying a private joke. That confused Lily a bit.

"All right," replied Lily. That made sense. That was normal.

A few more corridors were traversed, a few staircases climbed, before the Infirmary lay in sight.

"Sir, does everyone know about the Ball?" Lily asked, noticing the way the pictures eyed her and the headmaster as they passed.

"There has been no announcement, but the staff have been informed of the reason for your late arrival," Dumbledore replied.

"Oh. Okay."

In truth, Lily would have preferred for no one to know what happened: not the professors, not the students, not even Dumbledore. It wasn't like anything really happened to her. Lily hadn't been there when Voldemort arrived. She did not see the Voldemort arrive or watch when he attacked the Prewetts. In truth, Lily had been passed out by the time anything big happened. She didn't want people to think that she had experienced something that she hadn't. She didn't want people to look at her differently.

But if all the people treated her like Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey did once she was in the Infirmary, Lily thought it wouldn't be that bad. Both acted as if nothing had changed. Neither of them mentioned the Ball nor even alluded to it. They treated Lily exactly as they had before the hols, except for the fact that Pomfrey insisted that Lily come up to her office to take a potion every night for a month.

"After you've taken the potion for a month, we'll see how you're doing. It's to help with the pain in your chest, though the papers claim no one suffered any real injuries. As if a punctured lung, shattered elbow, broken wrist, and cracked rib weren't real," explained the matron, clucking her tongue as if that demonstrated the uselessness of Ministry Officials and newspaper reports. "You'll feel some short, sharp pains if you overexert yourself, but report to me if the pain remains longer than a moment or has no obvious cause."

"I will. Thank you," Lily replied, nodding and drinking the potion.

"If that is all, you may return to your dormitory, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said. Madam Pomfrey nodded curtly, as though approving the headmaster's words. It was interesting for Lily to see Dumbledore defer some decisions to the resident Healer. Lily watched the little woman scuttle back to the far side of the Hospital Wing and open a door to a room. In that brief moment between open and shut, Lily saw Remus Lupin standing in the shadows, but stood and walked out of the Wing before he could start wondering about her presence there.

~*~*~

In her dorm that night, Lily thought of the loads of work that she would undoubtedly have to make up and winced. She had missed four days of classes that were becoming increasingly difficult as the professors forced students to consider their seventh year projects more seriously and, at the same time, study for the practice N.E.W.T.s that were to take place at the end of this year. Missing four days just wasn't supposed to have happened.

Stupid Ball. Stupid Death Eaters. Stupid Voldemort.

"Lily," called a quiet voice from just next to Lily's bed. Lily drew back her curtains to find Sam crouched in the darkness. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Lily replied, opening her curtain more and motioning for Sam to sit on the bed by her feet. Sam then soundproofed and closed the curtains before turning back to Lily.

"How are you?" Sam asked, the seriousness in her voice bothering Lily.

"I'm fine," Lily replied automatically, her manners beating the truth in the race to her mouth.

"You sure?"

"I--" Lily took a moment to relax against her pillow and close her eyes. I'm frustrated and annoyed, to tell the truth, and I don't know why. "I just wish everyone wouldn't make such a big deal out of what happened."

"It was a big deal." Sam placed a hand on Lily's and the redhead opened her eyes and rolled them.

"Well. Okay. It was a big deal in general, but nothing really happened to me. I just happened to be there."

"Exactly," Sam said, shifting her legs around so that she sat on her heels and her feet brushed the curtains. "You were there."

"And that's supposed to be impressive?" Lily pulled her own feet up and hugged her knees.

"Not impressive, just intriguing. The press has said so little about what happened. We were frantic, trying to find information. The news of the attacks was the first thing we heard about waking up New Year's Day. Christine owled you, but the owl returned unopened. So we went over to your parents' home just in time to see the Aurors escorting them out of the house and into black cars. No one would tell us anything."

Sam picked at the mattress and Lily stared at her dark-haired friend with remorse. She hadn't thought about what it must have been like for her friends, not knowing. She had been frantic to find information about Christian and Mrs. Crouch. She couldn't imagine what she would have done if it had been Tracy or Christine or Sam at the Ball.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Lily said, arms tightening around her legs.

"Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault. It was You-Know-Who's."

"Voldemort," Lily supplied.

"Yes, You-Know-Who."

"Yes. I do know who. It was Voldemort."

"No. That's not what I meant. People are starting to call Voldemort You-Know-Who, because saying his name makes too many people angry and scared."

"That's stupid. It's just a name," scoffed Lily. Sam gave Lily a half smile and embraced her. Lily thought she might be crying so she rubbed Sam's back, trying to comfort her. "It's okay, Sam. I'm fine now."

"I told you to be careful," said Sam, breaking out of the embrace and wiping her tears with the ends of her sleeping gown. "And you went and got caught up in this."

Lily laughed. "Right. Sorry about that. Next time, I'll heed your words more carefully."

Sam didn't smile. "Next time? What do you mean next time?"

"I don't know," said Lily, shrugging as she leaned back and straightened her legs. "It just sounded right."

"No. It sounded horrible. That will never happen again to you, if I have anything to say about it."

"And, fortunately," Lily said, "you organize Voldemort's day planner so he'll have to listen to you, is that it?"

"How can you talk about him so flippantly? How can you make jokes?" asked Sam, shaking her head and destroying the almost-happy atmosphere.

Lily wanted to tell Sam that taking him seriously was terrifying. She wanted to say that to not joke would make the situation worse. She wanted to explain, in careful tones, that if the Prewetts could die without quivering, without fear, and with dignity, then the least Lily could do was laugh at the man who wanted to steal laughter.

Instead, she claimed to be tired and avoided the question. Sam took the hint and left as silently as she came. Lily, meanwhile, tucked her hands under the pillow where she placed her head, and thought about how wonderful sleep would feel.

~*~*~

"Sorry I'm late, Professor," Lily mumbled as she ducked her head and hurried past Professor McGonagall and into her seat in Transfiguration. She expected a reprimand, a scolding, something. Instead, when she looked up, it was to see Professor McGonagall nodding at her.

That's odd, Lily thought.

"What was that about?" Lily asked Tracy, who sat to her left. Tracy averted her gaze, shrugged and began taking notes.

Well, fine, if that was the way Tracy was going to act, Lily wouldn't care. She would turn right to the front of the class and pretend that nothing weird happened with McGonagall. Yep. Lily would sit there and take notes and care about the intricacies of transforming a book into a dog. Any minute now she would start scratching away with her quill instead of staring uselessly at the paper in front of her.

But, of course, Lily was lying to herself.

As the class dragged on (and on and on), Lily did not take a single note. She felt bored and uncomfortable and listless. She felt an unusual desire to leave, to do something, to be outside and away from that classroom. It definitely wasn't conducive to studying or note taking. If she had spent some time analysing her feelings she might have discovered the reason, but she had no desire to undergo such introspection.

During the practical part of the lesson, Lily did not even attempt the spell; she was still wary of the wand lying on her desk - the wand she refused to call her own. And when Professor McGonagall began discussing the up-coming assignment, Lily thought back on the class and realized that she remembered none of it. What had she done for the last hour and a half?

"Miss Evans, please wait a moment," came the voice of Professor McGonagall, dragging Lily out of her thoughts and slamming her back into reality. Lily wanted to groan; how she dreaded another lecture from McGonagall about setting an example, about how her rank as prefect affected others.

"We'll wait for you outside," Sam told Lily as she packed her things.

"Don't worry about it," Lily replied, putting her blank parchment and unused quill into her bag. "You all have Defence next and I have a break. I'll find you at lunch."

"You sure?" Tracy pressed.

"Yes," replied Lily, an irrational stab of irritation snapping up in response to the look that Tracy was directing at her - the mix of pity and concern. There was nothing to be concerned about.

"It would be easy to wait. Are you sure--"

"She's sure. We're late. Let's go," interrupted Christine, walking up behind Tracy and pushing her right past Lily and out the door. Lily smiled at the retreating back of her friend, not for the first time grateful that Christine was her friend.

"I'll see you at lunch?" asked Sam, the only other student in the room. Lily looked over and nodded, so Sam left, shutting the door behind her.

In her absence, the size of the room seemed to shrink and pull Lily closer to McGonagall. For some reason, that put Lily on edge.

Once she finished organising everything in her bag, Lily shouldered it and moved to the front of the room and toward the Transfiguration professor's desk. She kept her eyes darting around the room as long as she could before finally looking up to meet her professor's eyes. When she did so, she did not see what she expected: in place of anger and reproach there was... Lily didn't know, but McGonagall's expression did not seem right. In fact, the normally cool woman looked as if she were uncomfortable.

"Miss Evans," she began, standing and holding her hands together, "as your Head of House, I wanted to open a line of communication between us. If ever you feel the desire to discuss certain events, I will listen."

It was almost like someone had poured a batch of Shrinking Potion over Lily's head, such was her complete shock. How in the world was Lily supposed to respond to this out-of-the-blue 'line of communication'? The Gryffindor Head of House was attempting to reach out and comfort Lily, but it was obvious that neither woman was particularly comfortable with the situation. Lily did not want to create a friendship with her professor - honestly, what student would? - and McGonagall's invitation was awkward, though Lily could not exactly explain why.

"Thank you," Lily replied after too-long a pause.

Pause. "You're welcome." McGonagall picked up a stack of books. "And I will understand if you wish to transfer your patrol this evening."

"My patrol?"

"You and Mr. Lupin are scheduled to have a patrol tonight, but as I said, I would understand if you asked another student to substitute."

"No. Thank you for the offer, but I'll work the patrol," replied Lily.

Though it was tempting to take advantage of the sympathy of her professor, Lily knew that except for the occasional minor pain in her chest, she was neither ill nor hurt. Thus, if she skived off the patrol, she would be wracked with guilt. Yes, the patrols were long, silent, and boring, but they were her long, silent, and boring responsibility.

~*~*~

Lily received two more invitations to "talk": one from Professor Flitwick who stopped her in the corridor and another from Hagrid, who she had seen when she walked around the Lake before lunch. Both times, as with Professor McGonagall, Lily did not know how to respond. Was she supposed to be flattered? Excited or relieved? All she felt was a vague sense of unease from the professors and a growing irritation inside herself. Why did they all think that she needed to talk about the Ball? Compared to the other guests, Lily had hardly experienced anything. She left before the real pain was inflicted. Plus, she had already spoken to two Ministry Officials. Wasn't that enough talking? All Lily wanted to do was return to her normal habits and routines.

To make matters worse, when Lily walked into the Great Hall that day for lunch there was a hush and then a tumult of voices. If they hadn't known about the Ball last night, it was obvious that every student at Hogwarts knew what had happened now.

As she walked to her table, red sparks shot out of the wand she clutched in her left hand.

"Angry much?" Christine asked, tossing a roll at Lily. The redhead deftly caught it in her left hand and threw it back at Christine, bouncing it off her head.

"Ow!" yelled Christine, making Lily smile as she sat down across from her.

"You deserved that."

"For what?" asked Christine sadly as she rubbed her head.

"For throwing it at me first," replied Lily. Christine put her head on her folded arms on the table and closed her eyes.

"What happened to Christine?" Tracy asked as she sat down beside Lily and grabbed an apple.

"Lily viciously attacked me," Christine pouted, raising her head enough to look at Tracy.

"Again?" Tracy asked after a brief moment of hesitation and a glance at Lily. Christine pouted more and glared.

"I tried using the Cruciatus, but she dodged. That poor first year, on the other hand, was another story," Lily quipped, looking over the piles of food and feeling utterly apathetic about eating any of it. If she had been looking up, she would have seen a stricken look cross the face of her beater friend. Lily gave up trying to find something appetising and merely picked up a roll, trying to remember the last time she had eaten when she felt a small wet object bounce off her forehead before she noticed a grape land in front of her on the table.

"Did you just throw a grape at me?" Lily incredulously asked Christine, who nodded. "Why?"

"Pre-emptive strike. You armed yourself." Christine reached over, picked up the grape and popped it in her mouth. Lily winced.

"I picked up a roll to eat," Lily replied, holding it up in her right hand as if to prove her point.

"I was scared," complained Christine, plucking more grapes from a bowl.

"You're the strangest person I know," Lily said, shaking her head.

"That's not nice," Christine said. "You know a lot of people."

"And of all of them, only you throw grapes at me," Lily replied.

"True," Christine admitted, putting four grapes into her mouth at once.

"I'll be right back," said Tracy, standing and distracting Lily.

Lily watched her small, brown-haired friend walk down the length of the table and sit beside a tired-looking James Potter and an angry Sirius Black. As Lily watched them, Sirius shouted something, stood and threw his goblet at the table then stormed off. James, meanwhile, tilted his head and rested it on top of Tracy's, looking so tired that Lily wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"Christine?" Lily asked to get her friend's attention, not taking her eyes away from the far end of the table. In response she got a grape to her left temple. She gave her friend a sideways glare and Christine had the grace to look regretful.

"Yes, Lily?" Christine said, trying to look innocent.

"Would you stop with the grapes?"

"It was a reflex."

"It's a stupid reflex. If you're going to throw something at me, let it be galleons or something useful," said Lily, mentally shaking her head before getting back to alleviating her curiosity. "Anyway, what's going on with James?"

"James Potter?" asked Christine, turning to look at him and Tracy, still sitting together at the end of the table. "I don't know. You ought to ask Tracy."

"You're a lot of help."

"I never said I was helpful. I haven't even seen James since New Year's Eve, when he left the party early," Christine replied, reaching across two younger students in order to obtain a piece of pumpkin pie.

"He left early?" Lily asked, watching the younger students lean back in their seats as Christine tried to wedge a piece of the pie out. Lily grabbed her hand and stopped her before asking one of the younger years to pass the whole pie.

"Yep. He received an owl, and then he, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew left in a hurry," she answered. Lily took the pie from the younger year and cut her friend a piece, handing it to her on a little plate.

"What about Sirius Black?" Lily asked, handing the pie back to a grateful younger student.

"He didn't come at all." Christine took a large bit and bounced in her seat a little, a large smile on her face as she munched away. "And James and Sirius only returned to school today. Remus isn't back yet."

"Remus isn't back yet?" Lily asked, remembering her brief glimpse of him in the Hospital Wing the night before.

"No," Christine replied, taking another delighted bite. Lily decided not to wonder if she had hallucinated.

"And Peter Pettigrew?"

"He came back on time."

"Oh," said Lily, trying and failing to keep her eyes from the far end of the table, trying and failing to not care about what happened over the hols with James Potter, who was conceited and definitely not worth her obsessive ponderings. Lily put down the roll she had yet to take a bite of, and stared blankly at the table as she tried to clear her mind.

~*~*~

Walking down to her patrol felt vaguely odd. Actually, being at school felt vaguely odd. Instead of the oppressive protection she experienced at the hospital, when house-elves appeared if Lily so much as sneezed, here she freely roamed the corridors. It was a bit disquieting to be in such a large school without any protection except for a wand that she refused to use.

Normally, she and Remus met in the main corridor, but when she arrived, no one was there to meet her. She was eager to see if he would come, if Christine had been wrong and if Remus had already returned. The corridors seemed longer and more foreign as she walked through them. She wrapped her cloak about herself and bounced up and down on her toes, refusing to be scared by the familiar castle. How many times had she raced through these corridors before? What had changed?

"Lily." The echoing voice made Lily jump and spin around, fumbling for her wand.

"Who's there?" she called as she pointed the wand in the direction of the voice. She saw only darkness until a figure stepped forward and the light from his Head Boy badge lit up Matt McGrath's face.

"Are you all right?" Matt asked.

"I'm fine when people don't sneak up on me in the middle of dark corridors," Lily snapped, trying to control her breathing. With the adrenaline leaving her body, the pain in her chest became more apparent. It dissipated quickly, leaving her body completely by the time her wand was lowered to her side.

"Sorry," Matt said, sounding so sincere that Lily wanted to throw her wand at his head.

"Never mind. Why are you here?"

"Remus hasn't returned to school yet," said Matt, sounding suspicious. Lily herself was suspicious. She could have sworn that Remus had been in the Hospital Wing the night before. It must have shown on her face because Matt soon looked at her and asked, "What are you thinking?"

Lily didn't want to sound crazy. "I was just thinking that he ought to be here by now."

"Well," said Matt, taking a step closer, "I think he is here."

"Then why isn't he in class?" Lily asked, questioning herself as much as him.

"Because no one wants us to know he's here."

"And why would they want us to know that?"

"Because it's easier to excuse him missing a day of classes if he missed a whole week than to write it off as another trip to visit a sick relative," Matt said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I think--" Matt cut himself off. "Oh. I shouldn't have said anything. You have enough to deal with."

"Matt!" exclaimed Lily. "Are you joking? You can't just say that and not explain."

"Are you sure you're well enough?"

"Of course I'm well enough!" Why wouldn't she be?

"Well. I only--" he cut himself off again.

"Yes?" prompted Lily.

"I think Remus Lupin is a werewolf," he said at last.

Of all of the things that Lily had expected Matt to say - from guesses that Remus had a long term illness to a guess that he had tendency to tap dance to suppositions about a really prominent toe-fungus- accusing Remus Lupin of being a werewolf was almost the last thing she could have imagined. It came right after Lily expecting Matt to accuse Lily of kissing Severus Snape or bearing Professor Flitwick's child.

"Are you joking?" Lily asked, disbelieving.

"No. Let me explain."

"You don't have to. You're insane. Have you ever spoken with Remus Lupin? He's a mouse. And if you've looked at him lately, you would see that a strong wind could blow him over. The idea of him being a werewolf is ridiculous."

"How often does he miss class?"

"I don't know. A lot. Maybe once a week or something."

"Are you sure it isn't once a month?" Matt asked, pressing. Lily shook her head at the idea, then stopped. Remus certainly seemed to miss class more than just once a month, but maybe since he was the only person who missed class, it seemed more often than it was. "Are you sure he doesn't miss only the days of the full moon, days like today?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"I scheduled you and him for every full moon and every half moon for the rest of the year. Do you know which ones he's cancelled so far? Only the full moons."

"Listen," Lily said, shaking herself mentally. "He's only cancelled two yet this year, and that might be a coincidence. This time he missed the whole week, not just the moon."

"Exactly why they kept his return a secret, to hide his lycanthropy," Matt said. Lily wondered if this was what crazy people sounded like.

"Do you really think the headmaster would involved in a large-scale conspiracy?"

"Do you really think Dumbledore would announce to the world that he let a werewolf come to Hogwarts?"

Lily walked over to the stairs and sat on them. This was too much to take in. Too much. Remus couldn't be a werewolf. He couldn't. He was too shy. Too timid. He was weak and frail and sick all the time. Or was he just sick on full moons?

Trying to remember what she learned about werewolves in third year, Lily ran through all of the symptoms. She made a mental checklist of all the things that were tributes of a werewolf and remembered most vividly the fact that there was no correlation between being a werewolf and any specific personality trait. Werewolves weren't all mean or cruel. They weren't all nice either, though. They were just people.

And that was when Lily realized that anyone could really be a werewolf and hide it from everyone. What did Lily care if her entire year were werewolves? Then Lily remembered the gruesome pictures in the text regarding werewolves and the scorn with which some students treated them. She remembered the way Tracy had spoken about them after class in particular.

"Werewolves are real?" Lily asked as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Of course," Tracy replied.

"Do they have big eyes to see you with and big ears to hear you with as they dress up like grandmothers?" asked Lily jokingly as she started walking toward the door.

"Werewolves aren't a joking matter. They're really evil creatures," Tracy said, staring intently at Lily. "People say all of them worked for Grindewald. Can't trust a werewolf."

"But aren't they just people who turn into wolves at the full moon?" Lily asked.

"Yes, and then they roam around attacking people." Tracy said. "That's the key."

"But they don't attack people when they're human, right? I mean, it's not like the all walk around snarling at people and lighting things on fire."

"The bite turns them evil - as a human and a wolf. Why do you think the Ministry bans them from working for them?" Tracy continued.

"Because they'd take too many sick days?" Lily joked, trying to lighten the mood, and the conversation was dropped.

Then and now, Lily had yet to find evidence to support Tracy's claim, but Tracy had been convinced. Lily had no doubt that her brunette friend would shun Remus Lupin if she ever heard about her brother's suspicions. Lily glanced over at Matt, standing with his Head Boy badge gleaming in the darkness. Matt was Tracy's brother. They probably thought alike, Lily realized with a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. Whether or not Remus Lupin was a werewolf, Lily pledged to convince Matt that he was not.

Anyway, Lily was fairly certain that there was no possible way that Remus Lupin was a dark creature. Werewolves did not attend school. They would be a threat to the other students. Professor Dumbledore and the Board of Trustees would never allow such a thing. Plus, it wasn't like anyone could keep a secret that big in this castle. Matt only had to be convinced to agree with Lily.

As Lily came to this realization, she head two sets of footsteps racing toward them from outside the castle. Just as the doors opened, both Lily and Matt turned to see who was racing in. First came one figure, racing straight past the pair, as though not even noticing them. The second came in a moment later and turned right as soon as he was inside before pushing open a secret passage.

"Go that way," Matt yelled, pointing towards the secret passage. Lily nodded and ran pursuit as thoughts of werewolves still occupied most of her thoughts, letting Matt track the other student.

While Lily no longer played football as avidly as she had when she was younger, she was still fit from years of playing The Game with her friends and summers spent rehashing her football skills. So it was that she managed to keep the lone figure in sight even as he dashed inside the castle. So it was that Lily lifted her wand and yelled stixus, effectively stopping his movements as his shoes were melded to the floor.

Panting, Lily walked through the final stretch of space between them, letting her hands cover the painful area in her chest. Each breath was like a knife stabbing her heart; tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she held them back long enough to say, "Ten points from--" she stopped when she saw his face. "James?"

"I need to go," he replied, pulling at first his right and then his left foot, as if unwilling to believe he had been caught. As if unwilling to stop moving.

"What--" the pain overwhelmed her words. Breathing hurt so much. She tried again. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he muttered, glancing down the hall as if to run.

"Nothing?" spat Lily, her airway too small to fit the air her body needs. "You and your friend were out after hours wandering the grounds. That's not nothing."

"He's not my friend," he replied, kneeling down on the ground and trying to untie his shoes. The laces wouldn't budge.

"Look at me!" snapped Lily. He obeyed, though she regretted her commanding tone as it redoubled her pain. Her left temple began to throb and her forearms hurt. "What were you doing?"

"Just take the points and let me go," James said, standing to glare at Lily.

"Why?" She wanted to fall to the ground, curl up, and melt into the floor.

"I need to speak with the headmaster."

"The--" Lily couldn't finish her sentence. Her chest felt like it was on fire. She leaned back against the wall.

"The headmaster," finished James. "So get off your power trip and let me go."

"Power-- power trip?" muttered Lily, still aching, still unwilling to let him go without an explanation, still unable to breathe without pain.

"Just take the points!" he yelled. Hearing the desperation in his voice, Lily looked into his frantic eyes, saw the bags beneath his eyes and the pleading stance. He met and kept her gaze.

"Finite Incantatum," she whispered as the pain caused her to crumple against the wall and slide to the ground.

And James Potter was gone a moment later, racing towards the headmaster's office. In his wake lay Lily Evans, clutching her chest and desperately trying to take normal breaths. Gasping for air, she painfully lifted her wand and tapped her badge twice - the signal to her patrol partner that she needed help - and then she laid still.

Footsteps raced toward her, but she could barely hear them.

"Lily?" Matt asked, rushing forward and crouching beside her. "What happened?"

"I--" She let out a short cry of pain, and instead of reassuring him of her health, she only managed to make him more aware of her pain.

"Did he attack you? Who was it?"

"Pomfrey," she squeaked, trying to breathe in lightly to avoid pain. It didn't help. She started to cry.

"Madam Pomfrey attacked you?"

"No. I need--I need a potion." Each breath in felt like it was shoving open her airway, painfully. She was tired, hurting, and crying. She just wanted to stop trying to breathe altogether. It hurt. It hurt so much.

"Don't close your eyes. Lily! Wake-up!" Matt said, leaning down to pick her up.

"No!" Lily cried out, her eyes flying open, the moment he tried to lift her. "It hurts. It hurts. I can't breathe."

"It's okay. You'll be okay," Matt said, then he cast a Mobilicorpus charm and the two were on their way to the Hospital Wing. He ran, floating Lily in front of him, between corridors and portraits until at last he shoved open the Hospital Wing doors.

"What is the meaning--"

"Lily Evans. She can't breathe. She keeps grabbing at her chest."

And soon a potion was in front of her and she was drinking it, but before the relief was complete, she blacked out.