Proving Me Wrong

PROVING ME WRONG

LAST CHAPTER: -

The girl who had been sitting in front of Bellatrix was gulping down air and smiling weakly to herself. Snape noticed this and bending down he hissed coldly in her ear.

"You do realise that if no one had tried to run, she would have done it. Be thankful that your friends are cowards."

CHAPTER 16

"Marauders and Meadows"

She trailed her fingers across the spines of ancient tomes, enjoying the feeling of different bindings beneath her fingertips; leather, silk, fur - even human skin.

There was a flash of gold and Lily felt a rush of air as something whizzed past her ear.

"James, I know you could catch the Snitch in your sleep, so stop showing off and put it away," she said without looking around.

Surprisingly, nothing else whizzed past her ear after that.

"It's really stuffy in here!" came a voice from somewhere below Lily. "How can you stand that heat?"

"You get used to it after a while. I hid a pair of shorts and a t-shirt under 'H' during the middle of fourth year, because I snuck in here so often for that Charms project Flitwick gave me." She laughed lightly while scanning the book titles. "Can you imagine being caught out of bed in those clothes? Any teacher would have known exactly what I was up to."

Lily couldn't help but grin at the shocked silence that followed.

Removing Al-kimia and Osiris from its place on the shelf, she gently blew off the silver cobwebs that had swathed it like a garment. She dropped down to the floor and nestled the book in her lap. As she continued to examine the cover, which she knew for a fact was real skin; she began to speak in hushed tones.

"This book was created over two thousand years ago, by ancient Egyptian wizards. It is said that the authors were alchemists - you know what an alchemist is?"

"Yes, I know. The Philosopher's Stone and all that rubbish," answered James, rolling up his sleeves. He was sitting opposite Lily with his back against the wall.

Lily's head snapped around to stare at him, looking shocked.

"Rubbish? How can you call - oh, never mind," she muttered, remembering that the only topic James would debate was quidditch.

"Well, anyway," shooting James a disappointed look from beneath her lashes, "These ancient Egyptians are said to have been alchemists, or rather, ex-alchemists, who had decided that they weren't really interested in producing gold at all, but with immortality and age. Through their work they had come to the conclusion that immortality is flawed."

"Wait --flawed? How is immortality flawed?" asked James, getting interested.

"Most people, when they think of immortality, imagine existing in the same state forever and ever. You'll notice I used the word 'existing' instead of 'living'..."

"Yeah, I was going to ask..."

"That's because life isn't about things staying the same, which is what traditional immortality is. Nicholas Flamel didn't master the Philosopher's Stone until old age, which meant that he got to live almost all of his natural life without the Elixir. But if he had created it in his twenties, he would have stayed that age forever."

James produced the snitch from his trouser pocket and held it in front of his face like a miniature fan; blowing his hair back and making it stick up worse than ever.

"But how do you know that he wouldn't have grown old as normal and then lived forever?"

"Well, there's no actual proof," conceded Lily, "but there are records of a Spanish boy in the 11^th century, a child prodigy, who came very close to creating the Philosopher's Stone."

She glanced at James to see if she was boring him, he seemed to sense her question and shook his head, gesturing for her to continue.

"A few wizarding historians believe that he actually did make the Stone, at age ten, and remained a child forever. But for one reason or another it wasn't written about," her eyes sparkled, "or at least not in a way anyone ever expected."

Lily continued, "It would probably help you understand better if I told you that the boy's name was Pedro Gelida Abenpándo, which, I'm sure you'll agree, is quite a mouthful. So he went by a shorter name..."

"Peter Pan," breathed James, his eyes wide with amazement.

Lily could have hugged him for getting it so quickly.

"The boy who never grew up was an alchemist," said Lily softly.

"But what's so bad --"

"- about being forever young?" Lily finished.

James nodded.

"That's what I thought as well," she said, touching the embossed letters on the book cover.

"Being young for eternity would seem fantastic; I'm sure... for a while. But after a couple hundred years, wouldn't Flamel have gotten sick of it? He would have wanted to age, and go on to live life at thirty, forty, and fifty, because life without change isn't life at all."

Lily looked up from the book to find James watching her.

"So what did these Egyptian wizards do?" he asked.

"They created Aging Charms in the hope that when a person came to the end of their life, they could go back to birth, and live again and again, forever. Enjoying all aspects of life, good and bad, without the fear of death. Perfect immortality."

"Isn't that just like using a really powerful time-turner?"

Lily frowned. "What's a time-turner? Oh -- you mean those new punctuality gadgets?"

"Yeah," said James, "I don't think the makers knew what they were getting themselves into with this. I mean, a Remembrall's one thing, but the public release of a device that can turn back time?"

James shook his head and pocketed the golden snitch.

"No wonder the Ministry's all over it."

The pair lapsed into silence, both pondering the possibility of time-travel for the average person.

"So, do you think this book will help us do that aging charm properly?"

Lily sighed.

"I hope so. It's bound to come up in the practical exam."

James rested his head against the bookcase, listening to the distant footsteps of the main library.

The footsteps became clearer; he could hear the distinct click of heels on polished wood.

Someone was coming.

Putting a finger to his lips, he motioned for Lily to be silent, hoping that whoever it was would pass by the Restricted Section and leave them alone.

The screeching of hinges and the clang of a gate slamming shut suggested that this person had other ideas.

James jumped slightly at the sound, "Put the book back and follow me," he murmured quickly to Lily.

"Why James? We've got every right to be here, it's only six o'clock. Don't worry. We've done nothing wrong," Lily whispered back, hoping to reassure him.

"Nothing wrong?" He gave a lopsided grin. "You're about to be caught in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts Library with a Marauder. That's a crime in itself."

Lily snorted loudly, horrifying James who immediately tried to smother the sound by throwing his robes over her.

Muffled laughter burst forth from the woollen lump, which began to shake beneath his arms.

James' mouth curled into a smile as he scolded the bundle, "I cannot believe you, Lily Evans. First you're Miss Prim and Proper, never breaking any rules, and now you're sitting here, practically wetting yourself with laughter as Madam Pince, or - Merlin forbid - McGonagall approaches."

The mound jiggled still more violently and James had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Deciding that he had better head this person off rather than let them discover the Head Girl giggling insanely beneath a set of robes, James stood up.

Even though he knew it would set her off again, James bent down quickly and whispered to where he guessed Lily's face was.

"You look like a drunken Dementor, do you know that?"

He took the explosion of chuckles as assent, and strode quickly down to the end of the aisle, where he almost ploughed into --

"Professor McGonagall! Fancy meeting you here!" he cried with exaggerated delight, throwing his arms wide.

The Gryffindor Head of House responded with a thin-lipped smile, an improvement to the cold manner with which she had been treating James since that night on the quidditch pitch.

She was wearing a thick winter cloak, seemingly unaffected by the heat of the Restricted Section, and James wondered how much time she had spent there in her own schooldays.

"Potter, you are to go to the Headmaster's office, there's someone there to see you."

The grin melted off James' face.

Without another word, Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and marched out of the library. James followed a few moments later.

Catching up with her quick strides, he asked, "Er- may I enquire, um, who it is?"

The professor's eyes narrowed behind her square-framed glasses, and she gave him a glare out of the corner of her eye, as though she expected James to know.

"Someone from the Ministry of Magic, I assume," she replied curtly.

James felt a cold sweat break out all over his body.

He had completely forgotten McGonagall's warning that someone from the Ministry would want to talk to him about Lily's fall. A sudden sense of dread gripped him as he neared the stone gargoyle, thinking of the article that girl had written in the Prophet and how many people must have read it, and believed those lies.

Before he knew it, James was at the top of the moving staircase, in front of the polished oak door. He knocked and waited. He could make out two voices coming from within the office;

"I'll let him in, Alastor --"

Footsteps drew nearer, and James knew Dumbledore was on the other side of the door. The knob began to twist, but stopped as the other voice spoke-

"Ask him his security question! Quickly Dumbledore, ask him! If he's an impostor, he's seen too much already!"

Dumbledore answered calmly, "He doesn't have a security question. I didn't think it necessary to --"

"HE WHAT?!"

The door suddenly swung open to reveal Professor Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling merrily at James' startled expression.

"Pro -- Professor Dumbledore," he managed, after clearing his throat.

James' gaze moved over to the room's other occupant, who was standing in front of a large cabinet. He was a rugged-looking man with a thick mane of brown hair, and a heavily scarred face that Sirius would have paid to see. The man's beady eyes followed James as he crossed the threshold and sat down, in front of Dumbledore's desk. The Headmaster closed the door and sat down too, but the stranger remained standing.

James knew had seen the man somewhere before, but he just couldn't remember where.

Dumbledore smiled at him, "James, this is Alastor Moody."

James' stomach dropped.

Moody? Wasn't he...?

"I'm an Auror," growled Moody.

Oh dear Merlin, I'm done for.

Dumbledore watched him intently, saying, "There's nothing to worry about, James. Mr. Moody would just like to ask you a few questions."

Moody moved gingerly towards the desk, extracting a hip flash from deep within his heavy black robes, and for one terrifying moment James thought he was about to be given Veritaserum. Then Moody took a swig from it and put the flask back into a different pocket.

The Auror stopped directly in front of James and settled himself solidly on the edge of Dumbledore's desk. He sat slightly sideways so that his cloak fell open to reveal two wands strapped to his left arm, and a miniature Sneakoscope, dangling like some sort of sinister pocket watch on the inside of his robes.

James would have bet his broomstick that Moody's Sneakoscope was tuned in to only Dumbledore's office, so that there was no chance of any interference setting it off.

The Sneakoscope swayed tauntingly on its chain.

"Are you James Altair Potter?" growled Moody.

"Yes."

The spinning top remained silent.

"Where were you at a quarter past ten on the morning of the 22^nd of September?"

"Here."

No whistling.

"Be more precise."

"At Hogwarts."

Not a sound.

"Where exactly?"

"In the castle."

The gadget was still.

James had a thought- as long as he kept giving vague answers, and avoided telling outright falsehoods, the Sneakoscope wouldn't go off. He might get out of this one after all...

"Where in the castle?"

"Class--"

"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

Fuck.

***

While James Potter was being interrogated in the tower that was Dumbledore's office, three other students were preparing to do some interrogating of their own.

"Sirius, can you explain it one more time? I just want to make sure you're saying what I think you're saying," asked Peter, who was sitting on his four-poster bed and cramming dung bombs into a worn satchel.

"Yes," spoke Remus on the floor, where he was lying flat on his stomach, looking underneath the beds, "I'd like to hear this again as well, Padfoot. Or rather, I'd like you to listen to yourself and hopefully realise how completely mad you sound."

Sirius was standing by the darkening window, tucking the rolled up Marauder's Map into the waistband of his trousers and pulling his jumper down to hide it from view.

He gave his two friends an exasperated look and rolled his eyes, declaring grandly, "Oh unbelieving generation; how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you?"

"Shut up," said Remus, forgetting his search for a moment and frowning at Sirius angrily. "If my dad heard you joking around like that he'd give you a kicking, and then he'd get my mum to hex you."

Looking slightly put out, Sirius strolled into the middle of the dormitory, "Well, your dad's not here is he? And besides," he shook his black hair out of his face, "quoting the Bible makes me sound brainy, that Jesus lad must have had to fight the women off with a stick."

He made a swinging motion as though beating away invisible admirers, not seeing Peter swirling his chubby index finger around his temple, and mouthing the word "CRAZY" to Remus, who doubled up in silent laughter.

"So - seriously, Siri--" Sirius's eyes widened in dismay at the pun, "I mean, Padfoot, why are we doing this?" Peter finished.

"For the last time," he said grimly, turning around, "I think Kreacher, my mother's house elf, had something to do with Evans' fall at the Quidditch Pitch last month. Why? Because a few weeks ago, she practically screamed when an elf came up to her in the kitchen - you saw her Moony," he shot at Remus, who nodded slowly.

"She was in a right state," Sirius said to Peter.

"But what makes you think that Kreacher, of all elves, had something to do with it?" demanded Remus in frustration.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, a trait which he had no doubt picked up from James.

"Because Moony! She described him! She described him right down to the filthy rag he wears round his middle! She can't have just imagined it!"

"All house elves look the same to me," said Peter bluntly, shrugging.

"It could have been a Hogwarts elf she seen, and how do you even know that she saw this elf at the pitch? This fear of house elves could be for some totally different reason, Padfoot!" said Remus.

Sirius just shook his head repeatedly. "No - no! You don't understand! I know it wasn't an accident, and I'm sure Kreacher was part of it. That's why I need to talk to Regulus, to ask him why he gave Kreacher the order to come to Hogwarts. He's the only one here apart from me with any power over the little rat."

"And the idea that someone was already out to get Evans doesn't make you feel just a little less guilty about what you did? Knowing that something was going to happen sooner or later?" asked Remus sharply, looking up at his friend.

Sirius's grey eyes flashed, "What we did Moony! The three of us! Together! And no, it actually makes me feel worse thinking that I led her straight to them, she wouldn't have been up there if it wasn't for me!"

He threw himself down onto his bed and punched his pillow so hard that feathers exploded out of the end. He buried his face into the mattress.

There were a few moments of silence, during which the expelled feathers floated softly to the floor.

Sirius remained lying face down, his words barely audible as he spoke into the duvet.

"She could've died... I could've killed her...

That's two people in two years. First Snape, and now Evans - and it's not even as if I hate her that much anyway...but I still almost murdered her. It's like-- I can't stop it...there's just something rotten inside of me, and I can't get it out."

There was a muffled sniff and he croaked,

"I'm going to end up in Azkaban with the rest of the psychopaths--"

Remus was at his side in an instant, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders, forcing Sirius to look up and face him.

"You are not a psychopath," he said harshly.

Sirius avoided his eyes, but stared at a point over Remus's left shoulder, his tear-stained face void of expression.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?" Remus shook him violently. He glanced over to see Peter standing on the other side of Sirius's bed, looking frightened at the sudden turn of events.

"I am," said Sirius miserably.

"NO, YOU'RE NOT," said Remus, glaring at him.

"You're not, Sirius," whispered Peter, shaking his head sadly.

"I am," he moaned, looking away.

"YOU'RE NOT," repeated Remus.

"I - AM!!!!!!"

Sirius gave a guttural roar, and shoved Remus off him; then stumbled to the other side of the room, where he collapsed in a heap against the door.

Remus and Peter stood rooted to the spot, both watching helplessly as the other boy fell to pieces on the floor.

Sirius's sobs subsided after a few minutes.

When he finally lifted his head to look at his friends, it was with cheeky grin on his face, as if the past ten minutes had all been just a hoax.

"Have you found the invisibility cloak yet Moony?" asked Sirius gruffly, quickly wiping his face with his sleeve and standing up.

Remus watched him for a moment before answering, "I can't find it. Prongs probably has it in the Heads dorm."

"Just leave it then, I don't think we'll need it. Wormtail, do you think we've got enough ammo in case of attack?"

Peter held up the dung bomb-filled schoolbag in reply, as though he had forgotten how to speak.

"Right then, let's go and see my little brother, shall we?"

Sirius opened the dormitory door and started making his way briskly downstairs.

Remus and Peter exchanged a look, each wishing that James were there.

"Remus --" began Peter, his face filled with worry.

But Remus just shook his head, muttering, "C'mon Peter."

And putting his hand on the smaller boy's back, he ushered him from the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

***

Lily had remained in the Restricted Section for quite some time, not bothered in the slightest at James's disappearance.

She had realised in recent weeks that it was normal for James to be in one place in one instant, and gone the next. She couldn't explain it, but had simply come to accept it as one of James's ticks; like redoing his tie at lunchtime -- or knocking seven times on the door before he entered their shared bathroom, even when it was empty.

Vanishing unexpectedly -- it was just something that he did.

She left the library right before closing, and let her feet guide her where they would, thoughts of immortality and time-travel still twirling in her mind. She couldn't help imagining what she would do differently if she could start life anew...there were lots of things.

Wandering into the girls' toilets on the second floor, she sat her book bag and James's robes in a pile in the corner, and moved over to stand in front of a sink. She filled her cupped hands with water from the tap, and splashed her face, realising how hot her skin was.

The door opened behind her, and Lily watched in the mirror as two young women entered.

"Hello Lily," they greeted.

"Hi Dorcas, Tabitha," she replied pleasantly, meeting both their reflected gazes before splashing her face once more.

They each went into a cubicle, but continued to chat loudly while they set about their business, as is custom for teenage girls in lavatories.

"Did you see the look Black gave me today in Herbology?"

"Yeah, you'd better stay away from her tomorrow, Root said we're working with Devil's Snare, and you know she's going to try and stuff a bit in your robes or something."

"I just wish she was gone --"

There was a gasp.

"I don't mean dead, Tabby. I just wish she'd left when that Rudolf did."

"It's not Rudolf, it's - oh, it's - um..."

"Rodolphus, " offered Lily suddenly, who couldn't care less if she was butting in.

"What, Lily?" called Dorcas.

"His name- its Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Oh yeah, that's it!"

The sound of water flushing down the toilet, and the click of a lock, Tabitha emerged from her stall.

She stood at the sink beside Lily's, washing her hands. "Did you get the message about the Slug Club, Lily?"

Lily nodded, tying her hair up with an elastic band. "Professor Slughorn told me in Potions yesterday. Halloween night, right?"

"Yes, in his chambers." Shaking the water off her hands, Tabitha leaned towards Lily, her brown eyes shining with scandal. "Guess who didn't get invited back this year?"

"Who?" enquired Lily, looking at the fair-haired girl.

"Tetley."

"Rodgerick?" she gasped in complete surprise.

Tabitha smoothed down her skirt, pursing her lips together. "So I've heard."

Lily was nonplussed, "But - why? Last year Slughorn adored him, he couldn't get enough of him."

"Well, the Tornados were top of the league last year, weren't they? And Tetley's dad was in the Prophet every week, talking about his fantastic saves."

"And this year?" asked Lily, already knowing the answer.

"They've lost every game so far."

"Poor Rodgerick," said Lily glumly.

"Yes, poor him," sounded Tabitha half-heartedly.

"Well, anyway... you know what this means, don't you?"

"Um - no."

"Slughorn's going to be looking for a new favourite, isn't he? And d'you know what I think Lily, I think it's going to be you."

Lily began to argue but Tabitha cut her off -

"Oh Lily, look at yourself. You're Head Girl, a total Charms whiz, liked by everyone...or at least everyone who matters, you've got gorgeous looks... and you were front-page news with that accident in September."

Lily was gobsmacked, not only because Tabitha seemed to think so highly of her...but also as most of it was true.

Would Slughorn be asking her to sit beside him at his Halloween party?

There was a second flush, and Dorcas came out of her cubicle.

Spotting Lily's face, she smiled apologetically, "Tabitha, stop embarrassing Lily, can't you see she's mortified."

"What? I'm just telling it as --" she looked at her watch "- Oh Merlin's pants! It's almost nine o'clock! I told dad I'd owl him before bed!" She ran to the open door, "Are you coming Dorcas?"

"I've got to wash my hands, you ninny," the black-haired girl laughed, "I'll meet you back in the common room, in a while - don't get caught!"

Tabitha gave a hoot, "I'll try, Mother!" before disappearing down the corridor.

Dorcas caught Lily's eye and grinned again. She seemed to do that a lot.

Dorcas Meadows' swarthy skin, blue eyes, and pointed nose and chin - definitely mismatched in the mind's eye, in reality complemented each other very well.

Lily had always thought that Dorcas's face mirrored her personality perfectly, a jumble of features that one thought shouldn't go together, but did. Just like chess and Teen Witch beauty tips, complete opposites, but enjoyed equally by Dorcas. Or Arithmancy and Divination, two tricky subjects, each one thriving on the futility of the other, but both chosen by Dorcas to do at N.E.W.T level.

The girl leant over the washbasin, rinsing her hands, her thick ponytail hanging over her shoulder.

Using her wand to dry her hands, Dorcas glanced at Lily, and in that look Lily saw recognised indecision in her eyes.

"Dorcas?"

Appearing to throw caution to the windows, Dorcas blurted, "I'm really happy for you Lily."

"Thank you," was Lily's automatic response, but she did a double take, "Wait - why are you happy for me?"

"You and James...finally."

Dorcas waited expectantly for Lily to agree with her, perhaps to give a sheepish smile and say, 'Yes, I know, at last.'

Lily hadn't a clue.

"I'm sorry, wha- ?"

"I mean, I knew that that thing at the start of the year with James didn't mean anything," Dorcas declared, putting her hands on her hips and shrugging nonchalantly. "Of course it didn't, it was just a snog...a drunken, twenty minute-long snog." She initiated a knowing smile, which Lily didn't return. "I'm sure James told you about it," she shot at Lily.

Lily nodded.

Why the hell am I nodding?

"I knew it. Good old honest James -- he probably told you it was no big thing, right?" Lily didn't even have to nod this time, the other girl just ploughed on, "Yeah, well...it was a bit different for me, okay?"

She looked at Lily and smiled, even as she was about to bear her soul.

Dorcas sighed, "I mean, it's not as if I'm in love with him or anything, I just --" she paused, turning away from Lily for the first time, "I just thought...maybe, you know?" she spoke to the wall.

Lily immediately understood.

"I know, Dorcas," said Lily gently, putting her hand on the taller girl's shoulder. "And just to set the record straight, James and I...we're not --"

Dorcas stared back at Lily, "You're not?"

"No. So, if you want to find out if this 'maybe' is a 'definitely', its fine by me."

Dorcas blinked.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Lily smiled.

Dorcas put her hands over her face, "Oh Merlin. I've just made a fool out of myself, haven't I?"

It seemed that she couldn't stop the laughter that poured forth from her mouth like bubbles, as she peered between her fingers at Lily.

Lily pulled her hands away, and looked Dorcas straight in the eye;

"Not at all, Dorcas. Not at all."

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath and gave a slight nod.

Feeling pleased that she had helped someone feel better, Lily moved over to the corner to collect her bag and James' robes. She saw Dorcas take a glance at the black bundle and then at Lily, probably wondering why she had two sets of robes, but she didn't say anything.

The girls' journey back to Gryffindor tower took longer than normal, since Dorcas kept on begging Lily to make detours to all sorts of strange places, professing that the castle looked so much more inviting at night time. And it did, agreed Lily silently.

In the dark, one could almost feel the magic of the place come alive, even the most unadventurous student would be itching to explore it.

"But Filch can't do anything as long as we've got this with us," Dorcas gave Lily's Head Girl badge a quick tap.

Lily, however, refused point blank to go wandering when she had Charms first thing, but promised a disappointed Dorcas that she would sometime.

"Oh -Lily," Dorcas clicked her fingers as they reached the Fat Lady, suddenly remembering something, "The thing I wanted to tell you, before I dragged you off to the Heartbreak Hotel--" she cringed faintly, "--was that I was down at the Quidditch Pitch last night, and--" she broke off as the painting shifted in her seat.

Pulling Lily closer, she continued quietly, "And on the door of Wright's office, the timetable said that Slytherin had booked the pitch for practice. But the place was deserted. I walked over to the Slytherin changing rooms and the door was locked." She looked at Lily before going on, "In class, do you ever get a little tingly feeling in your fingertips after touching a charmed object?"

"Yes," nodded Lily, who had up until that moment thought she was the only one.

"After putting my hand on that door last night, my fingers were numb."

Lily's eyes widened.

"Someone charmed the shit out of that door, and I can think of only one reason why," the other girl muttered.

"Dorcas..." Lily began warningly, "Please be careful before you start supposing things."

Dorcas's mouth fell open in outrage, but Lily pressed on nonetheless; "I know what you're thinking, because I'm thinking it too. But I can't afford to blow this out of proportion, lest I'm wrong, and then what if the real thing comes along? I'll just be the Muggleborn who cried 'Death Eater'."

Dorcas nodded grimly. "I know, Lily, don't worry about me starting any rumours - that's Tabby's department," she added jokingly. "Besides, the Slytherins do enough damage to their reputation by themselves, they don't need my help."

"Thank you," replied Lily with complete sincerity. "Though I will think about what you've told me. And if I think it becomes something to be concerned about, I'll go straight to Dumbledore."

Dorcas grinned. "That's why you're Head Girl; diplomacy is in your veins."

"See you tomorrow, Dorcas," said Lily, starting down the corridor to the Heads dormitories.

She had only made a few steps when she heard,

"Lily!"

She turned around to look at Dorcas, who seemed embarrassed.

"Please don't say anything to Ja--"

"I won't," said Lily, "But only if you tell me why you were at the Quidditch Pitch last night."

The girl's tanned skin flushed dark pink. "I thought that was obvious."

"Oh," Lily bit her lip, smiling sympathetically, "We had to go to a Prefect meeting, so he wouldn't have been able to practice..."

She trailed off into an awkward silence.

"So, er...goodnight, Lily."

"Get to your common room, Miss Meadowes, before I start taking points," barked Lily in imitation of McGonagall.

"Ay ay, Captain!" called Dorcas with a salute.

Lily walked on to the entrance to her dormitory, and after saying the new password, "Kneazles", clambered in through the portrait hole.

She was just thinking about what a lovely couple James and Dorcas would make, when she spotted the boy in question lying asleep on the sofa, looking as though that evening's disappearing act had taken its toll on him.

Lily dropped her bundle into the nearest armchair, and moved forward to pick James's glasses off the floor.

She sat them on top of the coffee table, and upon glancing around once more, connected with a pair of brown eyes that were watching her drowsily.

"'Lo, Lily," James mumbled. Then he smiled.

All thoughts of Dorcas flew from her mind.