The Lost Generation (1975-1982)

The Lost Generation

(1975-1982)

Chapter Six

Cataclysm

Saturday, 12 December, 1976

Remus Lupin reminded himself for the tenth time not to twist his robes in his fingers like a frightened first-year. He stood straight, looking Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey in the eye, in turn. Being called up on the carpet was unpleasant and uncomfortable, but it would be far worse to say anything that implicated his friends. When the headmaster had asked to speak to him after lunch, Remus had feared the worst. What he got came very close.

Madam Pomfrey was looking particularly unfriendly. "I can't believe I trusted you, that I treated you like an adult. And this is how you respond! Gross irresponsibility!" Her voice rose as she spoke; she was very nearly shrieking.

Remus swallowed. "Yes, ma'am," he said meekly. He looked at the headmaster, who appeared very stern. The wizard was silent, leaning against the wall of the matron's office, watching with crossed arms.

"I could not believe that I came in here at sunset and learned from Miss Evans that you'd been at her bedside mere minutes before! Since you've shown that you can't do a simple thing like keep track of time on the nights of the full moon, I will go back to escorting you down to the willow myself, as I did when you were in first and second year. If you are going to behave like a large baby, you shall be treated like one. We shall be going well before sunset, too, even if you miss your last class during the winter, so we don't have you wandering about the castle, getting ready to transform at any moment...."

"Yes, ma'am." His response was nearly inaudible.

"I mean," she continued ranting, "think of the people you could have hurt! Miss Evans, for a start--" Remus' lip shook with the effort of trying not to cry, since he'd already hurt Lily; "and I understand that your friends helped you to get down to the willow in time. What if you'd attacked one of them? How would you feel then? Is that any way to repay them for befriending you? Although why they remained your friends after finding out that you're--"

"That's enough, Poppy," Professor Dumbledore said, standing up straight suddenly, his voice very firm. His stern gaze was fixed on her, now. Remus Lupin had been in the infirmary often enough that he knew that Madam Pomfrey was not a member of the Hogwarts staff who was timid about speaking her mind to the headmaster. He'd heard her disagree with him many a time, while Dumbledore always responded very levelly, whether he was ceding to her wishes or gently telling her off.

"Please excuse us, Poppy. I will walk Remus back to Gryffindor Tower. This afternoon, at three-thirty, he will meet you in the entrance hall and you will escort him to the willow. Since it is Saturday, we don't have to worry about any missed classes, either. That should be early enough even with the little bit of daylight we get these days. All right?"

She agreed, grudgingly, as though she thought the only sensible thing to do was to toss Remus out of Hogwarts on his ear (or find the nearest silver object and put him out of his misery). They left the office, the headmaster's arm around his shoulder. When they were in the corridor outside the hospital wing, Dumbledore stepped back and eyed him shrewdly, but also looking far kinder than he had while Madam Pomfrey was speaking to him. "When did your friends find out?" he asked quietly.

"I told them. Years ago. I--I feel very agitated just before the full moon. The day before. They noticed. I--I had to tell them. We all live together. How could I keep that from them? And being missing three nights a month was getting harder and harder to explain. I mean, they were starting to wonder how I could need to be in the hospital wing three nights running, you know? They're not stupid. And--and they're the best friends anyone could ever have. They never once--"

Unbidden, the tears leaked slowly out of his eyes, and he drew his sleeve across his face impatiently. Dumbledore nodded at him. "They're good lads. James and Sirius are scamps, of course," he said, his eyes twinkling, and Remus felt a smile pull at the corners of his mouth that, in spite of himself, was starting to make him feel better. "But they're good lads, no doubt about it. They would never turn their backs on a friend."

"I know that, sir. I know how lucky I am," he answered softly.

"I was a little worried about Pettigrew for a while," he admitted.

"Oh, Peter would never tell anyone about me either," Remus said quickly. He remembered how, just the day before, Peter had been the one working hardest to get him out of the infirmary discreetly, while Sirius was uttering a continuous stream of double-entendres and sarcastic asides. He'd had more than one occasion to be grateful for Peter's pragmatism over the last few years.

"I don't mean that. I was as worried about his having friends as you, when you were in first year. His mother had told me how withdrawn he'd been since she remarried, after his father's death. I was relieved to see that those fears were groundless."

"Well, that's largely due to James, sir, to tell the truth," Remus admitted, as he had also been guilty, at times, of wanting to exclude Peter. "He won't have anyone left behind."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly and nodded. "I thought that might be the case, but I didn't want to say." Remus suspected that he might possibly be getting points (although not actual house points) for being honest about his sometimes not wanting to include Peter, but it was hard to tell with Dumbledore sometimes. Even when you thought you were looking into those clear blue eyes and seeing his very soul, he still somehow managed to be inscrutable.

When they eventually reached Gryffindor Tower, Dumbledore turned to him. "I did not think I was making a mistake to take you as a student at Hogwarts five years ago, and I still do not think it was a mistake." Then his voice became low and chilling, very briefly, as he said, "Do not make me change my mind."

Remus swallowed again, nodding. "Yes, sir," he said softly. Dumbledore's smile spread across his face again.

"Good, good. Madam Pomfrey will expect to see you in the entrance hall at three-thirty. Alone."

Remus stopped short, having been about to give the password to the Fat Lady. "Alone?"

"Yes. Madam Pomfrey is the only escort you shall have." Remus looked into Dumbledore's eyes. How much did he know?

"Yes. Of course. Yes, sir."

When he was finally in the common room, James and Sirius fell on him, patting his back. Peter hung back, smiling timidly, and Remus, feeling guilty, went out of his way to reach out for Peter's hand to shake it, smiling warmly at him. His mates. He'd meant what he'd said to Dumbledore. The best friends anyone could ever have. It was true. Who could ever have such good friends?

Then he saw Lily sitting across the room with Cecilia, her foot propped up on a hassock. She had been released from the infirmary early that morning, not long after breakfast. Her leg was mended, although she wasn't to put a lot of stress on it right away, at least not for another twenty-four hours. He longed to stride across the room and take her in his arms, tell her he loved her, as he had in the infirmary. But he knew now that he shouldn't. He shouldn't even ever let her be a "friend" to him before the full moon. Never again. He still couldn't quite believe that he'd broken her leg. It had to stop, he knew. He was just too dangerous. He was lucky he hadn't broken her neck.

He turned his back to Lily and explained to his friends that Pomfrey was going to be escorting him down to the willow. Sirius shrugged and smirked. "That's fine. The thing is--we'll already be in there. This is almost too easy. If you're going at three-thirty, we'll just go at three. We'll use the Invisibility Cloak, so no one will notice."

"Well--people are bound to notice that the willow's branches stop three times...."

"No, it'll just be twice," Peter said quietly, his eyes narrowed as he thought. "James and I can go first. We can both fit under the Cloak, but three would be pushing it. Then James can go back for Sirius. And all three of us can wait for you in the Shrieking Shack. Pomfrey won't come all that way, you said she never used to when you were younger. And it's the weekend, so we're not going to be missing classes."

James nodded. "Peter's right. There's no reason we can't be with you tonight as usual."

Remus thought he might be on the verge of tears again, but he managed to stifle it this time. "Right," he whispered. "But--"

"We'll stop in the kitchens first," Sirius assured him. "I'll have the elves practically begging me to take freshly-slaughtered chickens and joints of beef. We'll have a regular feast tonight!"

"And--" James said, raising his eyebrows.

"And some feed corn for you, of course," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. He often wished that James had an Animagus form that was a carnivore, like him and Peter, but he didn't criticize this often, as his antlers had proven to be effective weapons on more than one occasion. It had been strange to eat raw meat, the first time he'd tried it, in his Animagus form, but he was used to it now, and it was something that seemed strangely separate from his existence as a human. Sometimes he forgot he'd been wandering the night or spending time in the Shrieking Shack with his friends in the form of a dog; he often remembered being with them in human form, even though he knew that wasn't right. But he never imagined he was human when he was eating raw meat as a dog. Instead, he imagined at those times that he was a dog, and that the dream was having been human.

The four friends never noticed the way the second-year boys, across the room, watched their every move, and listened attentively for every word they could catch....

* * * * *

Sunday, 13 December, 1976

The wolf's howl rent the night, making Bill sit up in his bed suddenly.

"It's time!" Alex Wood hissed to him soon after.

"Are you sure about this?" Orville Simpson whispered in the darkness.

"Yes. It's after midnight, late enough that no one will question us for being in the sixth-year dorm. Including the sixth-years, as they're not there, anyway."

"Are you sure?" Peregrin Booth asked now, instead of Orville.

"Yes," Alex said adamantly. "And when they return in the morning, we'll be in there, in their beds, pointing at them and saying, `We know what you are!' And they'll have to admit it!"

There was a silence. Then suddenly, Rembert Leonard's treble voice said softly, "Why?"

"Why?" Alex said scornfully, impatiently. "Why what?"

"Why will they have to admit it? Why couldn't they just deny it?"

"Because we'll have them dead to rights, that's why, you prat! Stop asking stupid questions!" But secretly, Bill thought Leonard was right. What was to prevent them from lying? They were just a bunch of second-years, after all. They weren't even old enough to go to Hogsmeade on weekends, if any of the students were ever allowed to go again.

They crept up to the sixth-year dorm, pushing the door open cautiously.

"Lumos," Bill said quietly, lighting his wand then holding it high to see around the room.

"Erm," Booth said uncertainly. "Is there any reason we can't just light the candles?"

"Idiot!" Alex sneered. "What if they look up and see a light in the window? They'll know someone is here!"

Bill frowned at him in the wandlight. "They'll know we're here when they find us in their beds in the morning, too."

"Oh, all right--" Alex conceded. Bill pointed his wand at the sconces flanking the doorway; he could see the brackets clearly in the moonlight streaming in the windows. Two candles didn't shed much light on the room, but it was enough that they didn't need the wandlight any more. "And--" Alex said, looking around the room with a smirk on his face now, "we can do a little snooping around before we turn in for the night." He looked eagerly at the trunks sitting at the foot of each bed, and at the wardrobes and the cabinets next to each boy's bed.

Booth wavered, "I don't know. Waiting here to talk to them is one thing. They really won't like it if we go through their stuff. They're in sixth year! Think what they could do to us..."

Orville guffawed. "Yeah, only it's the sixth year girls I wouldn't want to cross. Especially Evans. Have you heard those stories about Sirius Black, after he tried to kiss her?" Bill saw Alex look at Orville strangely for a moment, then turn away, reddening for some reason. Bill thought of something then.

"Well, the sixth-year boys are out there tonight, aren't they?" Bill reminded them. "Under a full moon. They're not exactly to be trifled with. We are not taking a chance and touching anything of theirs, do you hear me?"

He looked sternly at the other boys. Alex had been behaving like the one in charge, but Bill didn't care. If Alex wasn't going to be responsible, Bill was going to step in. He remembered the map that he knew the older boys had. He wished he knew whether they had it with them; if they did, and they were using it, it was just possible that they knew the younger boys were in their room. Bill sincerely hoped, as they were probably in no state to be consulting maps, that their presence would go undetected until morning.

Alex stepped up to Bill. "Oh, we're not touching anything, are we?" he said, challenging Bill, who was still grasping his wand. Bill put the tip under Alex's chin and glared back at him.

"That's right, unless you want to look like someone's been trying experimental charms on you," Bill said, trying to keep his voice even. The two friends stared at each other, unblinking, and the other boys held their breaths, waiting. Finally, Alex Wood stepped back from Bill, rubbing his chin.

"All right, all right. Kill all of our fun. See if I care."

"Get into a bed. And don't touch anything else."

Bill clambered onto James Potter's bed, although he didn't know it, and Orville and Booth each claimed a bed; that left Rembert Leonard and Alex Wood standing uncertainly, staring at the remaining bed. They dove for it at the same time, Leonard winning by a hair. However, this had no sooner occurred than Alex was grasping the boy's hair in his fingers, trying to pull him off the mattress. "Oh, no you don't! That's my bed--" They struggled, Leonard having put his arms around one of the bedposts, holding on for dear life, his eyes practically popping out of his head as Alex pulled on his hair even harder.

"Stop it!" Bill yelled at them, pulling out his wand again. "Enough!" The two boys separated and stood next to the bed, panting, arms at their sides.

Orville shrugged, sitting up in the bed he'd claimed. "I don't mind sharing. You can come on over, Alex. It's pretty big--"

Alex Wood looked tempted for a moment, but, as though he remembered himself, he recoiled in horror. "Are you crazy? What do you think I am?" His eyes were very round and his voice full of derision.

"What do you mean by that?" Orville said, frowning. "What do you think I am? I'm just trying to end a fight and get to the sleeping part of the evening. Anything wrong with that?"

"Well, I'm not sharing a bed with anyone." His voice shook. "You can share with Booth," he said, nodding at Leonard. The other boy's face clouded over and he put his pointed nose very close to Alex's.

"Oh, so it's all right for me and Perry--"

Bill was surprised; this was very daring, for Booth. There was more of an edge to his voice than usual. Alex had been giving him a very hard time lately. He sounded distinctly like someone who was sick of bullying and wasn't going to take it any more. Bill was starting to get the impression that Alex should be very, very careful around Booth in future. As in the next five minutes.

Alex, however, was looking triumphant about his having won the bed, and climbed in, pulling the covers up to his chin. He had evidently decided to ignore Booth's taunts about Mary Ann Boxwood. All five boys settled down and let sleep steal over them, while the wolves howled in the forest and the moon traveled across the sky....

* * * * *

"What the hell?"

Bill shook his head and tried to open his eyes; he saw that the door to the room was open and the four sixth-year boys were standing just inside the doorway, looking both astonished and indignant. He wasn't sure, but it might have been Sirius Black's voice that had uttered the exclamation. Bill was confused; why were the sixth-years barging into their dorm?

Oh, right, he thought. We're in their dorm.

Now it was Peter Pettigrew, of all people, who was advancing on them with his wand drawn. Bill was suddenly feeling awake, seeing that, and he scrambled out of the bed and stood before the older boys, standing as straight ant tall as possible (he was a good five or six inches taller than Pettigrew) and drawing his own wand.

"Just a minute!" he said loudly, grateful that his voice wasn't cracking. (He really hoped his voice would be done changing soon.) "We're the ones who should be saying `What the hell?' to you. After all, you've been out all night. A night with a full moon. A night that was also full of wolves' howls."

The four older boys all froze and looked at one another, and Bill felt his heart leap within him. They know we know! he exulted. We were right! Alex and Orville and the others climbed out of their beds and came to stand with Bill, presenting a united front.

In a wavering voice, Pettigrew looked up at Bill and said, "I don't know what you are talking about."

Bill looked at him, seeing the fear there. "Oh, I think you do. You see, we've figured out what you are."

James was looking at him uncertainly. "Er--who exactly do you mean by `you?'" He was looking very dodgy, Bill thought. He frowned.

"Who do you think? All of you. We know what you all are."

James looked at the tall boy before him, wondering whether it would be better to pretend that they were all werewolves, as the younger boys seemed to believe, or to deny everything, rather than admit that Remus was the werewolf. James swallowed. "You do, do you? All right, then. What are we?" He had trouble getting the words out.

Sirius gave him a backhanded slap on the arm and James slapped his arm right back. "What the hell do you--" Sirius started hissing at him.

"Shut up," James silenced him, glancing briefly at Remus. He didn't dare do more than that, as he was afraid of Remus' condition catching their eye. Remus had had a very rough night and was a bit wobbly on his feet. He was so tired, he seemed to just want to sleep, instead of going to see Madam Pomfrey to care for his wounds. James turned to Bill again. "All right. Tell us, if you've got it all figured out."

Alex smirked and blurted it out, not waiting for Bill. "You lot are werewolf hunters! Every month, you go down to the forest, or wait under the Whomping Willow and then come out. We've seen you taking raw meat for bait. Although I suppose you use yourselves for bait, as well. Damn risky, but I suppose that's how it's done." Alex grinned, very proud of himself. He had been the one to come up with this idea. After he'd laid it out, only Bill was punching holes in it, and even he eventually came round and decided that it made more sense than his proposal (that the four older boys were themselves werewolves). After all, werewolves were dark creatures. Dumbledore wouldn't let one in the school, surely? Let alone four?

Peter collapsed on a trunk and sighed. "It's a fair cop." He looked out of the corner of his eye at the other boys.

Sirius frowned. "What the hell--" he said again, moving toward Peter, who held up his hand.

"They've got us, Sirius. We can't deny it any more." He turned to the younger boys and sighed wearily again. "Yes, we're werewolf hunters. You see--my dad was killed by a werewolf. My stepdad is a werewolf hunter. My mum contacted him to get him to find the one that killed my dad, and that's how they met. He's actually a Muggle, but there are Muggles who know about creatures like werewolves and vampires. They don't talk much to other Muggles about this sort of thing. If one of them tried to talk to someone about werewolves and vampires, they'd be locked up in a madhouse faster than you could blink."

James watched the faces of the younger boys. Were they buying it? he wondered. He motioned to them with his head, looking at Sirius, and Sirius stepped forward now, starting to regale the younger boys with their exploits as werewolf hunters. James knew Sirius was talented enough with make up several dozen convincing-sounding lies to distract them while he did want he needed to do. He stood behind Remus while Sirius went on and on, searching his pockets. All he had were some chicken bones he'd retrieved from the Shrieking Shack, to use in Potions class. He quickly transfigured one of the bones into a long silver-colored sword, and another into a scabbard for it. He stepped out from behind Remus and approached Alex Wood. Drawing the sword, he held it, point up. The younger boys all swallowed, seeing it.

"This is what we use, you know," he said in an eerie voice. "Does the trick cleanly. And then--no more werewolf." He felt rather than saw Remus shudder behind him. "However--if you lot ever breathe one word of this--"

Wood swallowed, and he saw that Booth, Leonard and Simpson also looked petrified. Weasley, on the other hand, was looking at James with narrowed eyes. He seemed unconvinced.

"Don't worry!" Booth cried as the other four boys bolted for the door. "We won't!"

They were gone, elbowing past each other to get out of the dorm. Bill remained, gazing at James' sword shrewdly. He put his hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around his wand. The older boys looked at him uncertainly; he could see doubt flickering in their eyes.

"I'm not like them," he said softly, meeting their eyes one at a time, and then landing on Remus Lupin, who, he had just noticed, was looking as though he'd gotten into a fight with the Hogwarts Express and lost. He moved his eyes back to James Potter. "I don't believe you're werewolf hunters. And I don't believe that that's a silver sword." He swiftly pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the weapon in James' hand. "Finite incantatem!"

Immediately, James was revealed to be holding two chicken bones, instead of the gleaming sword the other second-years had seen. He grimaced, dropping the bones and looking at Weasley, who was far too clever for his own good. "If you don't think we're werewolf hunters, what do you think we are?" James asked him softly. Bill looked at Remus again and relaxed his grip on his wand. Remus looked worse, if that was possible, and Bill swallowed. He knew now. The difference between Remus Lupin and the others was very obvious. He looked at James again.

"I think you're good friends," he said quietly. "Very good friends."

Nothing else was said. They nodded at him; a mutual, unspoken understanding was born at that moment. Remus fell to the floor and James and Sirius whirled on him, lifting him up and, staggering with him to one of the beds, heaving him onto the mattress and pulling the covers over him. While they were doing this, Bill walked to the door. His hand was on the knob when Sirius panicked and suddenly said, "Weasley! The others--I mean will you tell them--?"

"Don't worry. I'll tell them not to spread it around that you're werewolf hunters," he said with a lopsided smile. Sirius smiled back at him and nodded.

"Good, good. Just checking."

When he'd gone, James said to Sirius, "He's all right, is Weasley."

Sirius agreed, before collapsing on his own bed. Peter watched James get into bed, too, thinking about this exchange. He didn't trust the second-years--any of them, including Bill Weasley. He also didn't care for how quickly and easily Weasley had insinuated himself into James' and Sirius' good graces. They were his friends, even though it was partly because of James insisting that they not exclude him. Well, Mr. Weasley, he thought as he climbed into bed himself. We'll just see how much they like you when you turn out to be more of a rat than I am....

* * * * *

Friday, 19 March, 1977

Bill was walking back to Gryffindor Tower somewhat late, after losing track of time while working in the library. He was having a dreadful time getting enough written for Binns' History of Magic essay; it was supposed to be three-and-a-half feet, and he had only just cleared twenty-three inches. Madam Pince had finally kicked him out and he was half-way along the third-floor corridor when, up ahead, Mrs. Norris turned the corner and started walking toward him with that slow, deliberate, rolling gait. His heart in his throat, Bill slipped into an empty classroom to avoid running into Filch and getting a detention (the encounter right before the Christmas holiday in his first year was still very fresh in his mind). He listened for Filch's footsteps to recede, his heart in his throat. As he passed, he heard him speaking to his cat.

"What is it, my pet? Is there someone in this corridor who shouldn't be?"

Bill thought he might very well be the first thirteen-year-old on record to die from a heart attack. Don't come in here, he thought desperately. Don't come in here, don't come in here....

But the footsteps went past the room where he was hiding, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. After a time, it seemed very quiet in the corridor, and Bill hoped that Filch might be gone.

He was gone, but some other people, who might have been the original reason for Filch thinking someone was about, had come out of hiding, and were now standing around a statue of a hump-backed, one-eyed witch. Bill only opened the door a crack, enough to see who was standing there, looking around furtively.

It was Black, Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin. Bill grimaced. I should have known, he thought, wishing he were in sixth year, just because the four of them seemed to get into everything. He remembered confronting them in their dorm. He'd been frightened at first, and instead wound up wishing that his friends were more like the four older boys. What were the four of them up to now? he wondered. The full moon had been almost two weeks earlier. He'd watched them from a window in Gryffindor Tower, every full moon for the previous three months, sneaking down to the willow before Madam Pomfrey came along, escorting Lupin, a disapproving frown on her face. He knew what they were doing but not how they were doing it. It was obvious that all four of them weren't werewolves. He noticed now how Lupin, before the full moon, grew noticeably more hirsute and agitated. Somehow, they'd managed to find a way to be with him. They weren't worried, it seemed, about anything but being discovered. They clearly weren't afraid of their friend, but concerned for him.

Through the crack between the door and the jamb, he watched, fascinated, as James stood behind the statue and touched his wand to the witch's hump, saying, "Dissendium." The statue opened up, creating a passage large enough for each boy to pass through, which they did; first Remus and Peter, then Sirius and James. When all four of them had vanished, the hump closed slowly again. Bill was frozen in amazement, and then he was glad of this, because two people he had not expected at all came round the corner, and on top of everything else, they were Slytherins.

"I tell you, they came this way!" Snape said sharply to the other boy, who was looking at Snape distastefully, his eyes half-lidded. Bill thought he might be the sixth-year Slytherin prefect.

"Yes, so you said many times..."

"Look!" Snape said now, seeing the witch's hump still slightly open. Even as he approached it, the hump slid closed the rest of the way. When he reached it, the statue looked like solid stone again, and Snape ran his fingers over it frantically, poking the nose and the eyes, in case these were buttons that would open the secret chamber. The prefect watched him poke and prod the witch, his mouth twisting with amusement.

"Would you two like to be alone? If I'd known you were planning to bring me along on your date, Snape, I'd have brought one of my own," he drawled at the tall, hook-nosed boy.

Snape whirled on him. "Looks to me like you have both of your hands with you, Iggy," Snape responded snidely, making the prefect swell like a bullfrog. Bill winced; Slytherins did not pull any punches. Snape turned back to the statue.

"They use this to get out of the castle, I'm certain of it," he hissed at Karkaroff, who stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Snape skeptically.

Down in the tunnel, Remus Lupin stopped and put his hand on the nearest arm and squeezed. It turned out to be Sirius.

"Ouch! What are you trying to do to me, Remus?"

"Don't you hear them?" he asked, loosening his grip; then he realized that of course they couldn't hear the voices.

"Hear who?" Peter asked nervously.

Remus sighed, feeling again the burden of his heightened senses, even when he wasn't a wolf. "Voices, up there in the corridor. One of them said Iggy."

"Who?" James asked, mystified.

"I've heard some people call Karkaroff that."

Sirius swore. "Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. What the hell are we going to do now?"

"Give me the map," Peter said suddenly. Without a word, Sirius handed it to him. "Can someone give me a bloody light?" he asked, irritated. James immediately lit his wand and held it over the parchment while Peter activated it. Slowly, the familiar lines spread themselves over the parchment, drawing the map of Hogwarts Castle. Peter moved the parchment under James' wand until the light was directly over their location; then they saw that in the corridor above them there were two dots labeled Severus Snape and Igor Karkaroff.

"Snape," Sirius hissed venomously. "I should have known."

"Fishing expedition," James said, noticing that he hadn't brought just anyone with him but a prefect. "Trying to catch us out." Snape had been very, very annoying since early February, hanging about them and in the corridor outside Gryffindor Tower whenever there was a full moon. Spending those nights with Remus had begun to resemble work more than anything else, because they had to work so hard to avoid Snape, and they'd been champing at the bit to see something other than the inside of the castle or the Shrieking Shack. Finally, they'd decided to sneak out and have some fun on an evening that was chosen specifically because there wasn't a full moon, so that Remus would be able to join in the fun as well.

"What are we going to do now?" Remus asked, echoing Sirius' earlier words. It was Sirius who answered him.

"What we were going to do all along. Go to Honeydukes, now that they're closed for the night; light the fire so we can go to the Leaky Cauldron, which will be so crowded with Friday night business, no one will notice the four of us going through the street-side door to Muggle London, where we will have ourselves a night on the town, as planned. I didn't go through hell and high water to get this Floo powder from McGonagall's office for nothing. I had to make her think I didn't know she was standing right there when Aurelia and I started snogging, and then I had to pretend I was upset about the detention, and I had to hope that Peter's diversion would take her out of the office long enough to nick enough Floo powder for all of us to get to London and back. Aurelia's hacked off at me now, too, because McGonagall sent her to Sprout, and Sprout gave her detention as well, for `creating a public spectacle.' After all that, we are definitely going. Look at them," he said, pointing at the parchment; "they're still just standing around the statue. They haven't a clue how it works....We don't have to worry about them. They're too incompetent to be a threat," he said authoritatively.

Peter squinted at the map, noticing another dot besides Snape and Karkaroff and in addition to the moving dot that was Filch, now in the entrance hall. This dot was near the door of a classroom that was very close to the humpbacked witch.

"Here, now," he said softly. "Here's someone who's not quite as incompetent as our Slytherin friends...."

He held the map so that the other boys could see what he'd seen. "Weasley!" Sirius spat vehemently. "What's he want to be there for? You don't--you don't think he saw us coming down here, do you?" he asked no one in particular.

"I do," Peter said, looking Sirius in the eye. Whose side would he be on, his mate's or the stupid little second-year's?

James glanced at the map. "But look--he's not coming out of hiding and telling the Slytherins what they need to know. If he was snooping around, trying to get the goods on us, wouldn't he have come out of the classroom by now and told them how to open the witch? He's hiding from them too. He's just as worried about being caught."

Peter looked at the dots. "Maybe. Or maybe, if he tells them, Karkaroff will get the credit, since he's a prefect. I bet Weasley would like to be the one who brings us down."

James frowned in the dim light. "That doesn't sound like Weasley. I don't think he--"

"How well do you know him?" Sirius asked, making Peter smirk; he hadn't had to do it himself. "What makes you think he wouldn't sell his grandmother for the chance to get points?"

"He hasn't told anyone about Remus, has he? And if he gets points by putting other Gryffindors into hot water, he'll also be losing our house points. That doesn't make any sense," James reasoned.

Remus rolled his eyes. He'd been listening to Snape and Karkaroff above them with half an ear. "Listen, they don't know what they're doing. Let's just go. Is there any point to standing around here all night arguing about this? At least, if anyone's going to turn us in, we can say we've had a time tonight, right?"

Sirius slapped him on the back. "That's the spirit, Remus. I say we go to London, find a taxi driver who can take us directly to the nearest place that has some birds dancing, wearing as little clothing as possible--"

James rolled his eyes and started walking along the passage toward Honeydukes, while the others followed. "Blimey, Sirius, you're not going to be satisfied until you're surrounded by naked girls, are you?" He thought of Bonnie, who, when they were alone together, never actually removed all of her clothes. And she'd probably be furious if she knew what he was doing....He shook his head to get her out of it, continuing along the passage.

Sirius ambled along, smirking. "Why should I be?" He laughed out loud, and then his friends finally laughed with him. "Oh, yes, you're all going to complain bitterly if we're surrounded by naked girls...."

Remus felt himself color, thinking of Lily. She hadn't been with him since December. He'd made certain of that. He had managed to hide very effectively each of the ensuing months, so that he wouldn't be anywhere near her the day before the full moon. He'd had the map with him, and once or twice, he'd seen her dot near Severus Snape's dot, and then moving closer together, making his throat feel very tight....

They continued to walk to Honeydukes, to temporary freedom, while, back in the castle, Bill Weasley held his breath and waited for the Slytherins to leave.

Severus Snape continued to prod the statue for a while, but finally gave up. What am I going to tell Lily? he wondered.

His relationship with Lily was very confusing. It wasn't common knowledge that they were seeing each other. Certainly they didn't behave like a couple in public. But when he was alone with Lily....He had always thought she was beautiful, and he had discovered that she was even more beautiful when she was filled with passion, giving herself over to it; unfortunately, she had yet to give herself over to it completely, and he had been feeling more and more frustrated about this, although he never pressured her in any way. After she would withdraw from him, panting a little and saying, "I think we should stop, Severus," he would immediately nod and accede to her wishes. It was after one such time, almost three months earlier, that she had said, "I just wish I knew where they go when they're sneaking around at night...." They'd both been silent for some time, her head pillowed on his chest as she ran her finger up and down his sternum idly, her hand slipping inside his unbuttoned shirt.

"Who?" he had asked her. She had explained that she was talking about her so-called friends, the ones who were excluding her and sneaking around without her.

"If you ever hear or see anything, you'll tell me, right?" she asked him anxiously.

He had immediately agreed, and since then he'd dedicated a good deal of time to knowing where Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin were whenever they weren't in class. He felt like he had come so close this night, but the statue of the witch just wasn't giving up her secrets, and Karkaroff was making noises about going back to Slytherin house, so Snape was forced to go along. Before he turned the corner, he looked back at the stone figure.

I'll find out what they're up to if it kills me.

* * * * *

Saturday, 20 March, 1977

They were back in their dorm; it was five o'clock in the morning, and they were all exhausted. It had been quite a night. They'd gone to pubs, they'd gotten a little tipsy, they'd seen quite a lot of bare flesh, and Sirius had very nearly been knocked out by a man who was poncing for a prostitute whom Sirius hadn't realized was a prostitute. Peter lay back in his bed, staring at the underside of the canopy, thinking about his plan. It was perfect. And then we'll see what the others think of Bill Weasley, he thought....

It was almost too easy. He lingered while James, Sirius and Remus went down to breakfast, spending a long time in the showers. When he was dressed and he was fairly certain the dorms were empty, he crept into the second-years' room and poked around until he found Bill Weasley's trunk. He located some old parchments he'd written for various classes, finally deciding on a Potions essay and a Transfiguration exam which were several months old, and pocketing these. He returned to his own dorm and secreted these in his trunk before going down to breakfast.

Later in the day, James and Sirius had gone down to the Quidditch pitch with their brooms, and Remus was napping in the dorm while Peter crept in and carefully collected the parchments from his trunk. After the door closed, Remus looked up in surprise; why should Peter be tiptoeing around the dorm? But then he rolled over, assuming his friend just didn't want to wake him....

Peter found a quiet corner of the library and took out a stylus, tracing over the handwriting on the Transfiguration homework with it so that there was a firm impression of the words on the parchment even after he'd wiped it clean of ink with his wand. He took special care to press hard on Bill Weasley's name. Once the parchment was clean, he took out the other essay and carefully copied Bill Weasley's handwriting, but the words were not Bill's, nor would he see them before Professor McGonagall....

* * * * *

Friday, 16 June, 1977

The sun shone down on the grounds of Hogwarts, gilding the grass and trees, sending sunbeams awash with dust motes streaming through the stained-glass windows of the castle, and taunting the students with its promise. Finally, the exams were over, and the third years and up had a Hogsmeade weekend to look forward to. The headmaster had announced it the previous week. No one had left the castle grounds since Easter, but now the depression that had sat like a dark cloud on the castle, due to the months of deprivation, lifted immediately. Everyone walked through the castle with a spring in their steps, even the first and second years, who would have the run of the place with the older students down in the village.

At least, most of the first and second years were cheered by this announcement (as it made it less likely that the no-Hogsmeade-weekend policy would be a permanent one). The five second-year Gryffindor boys, in particular, lounged around the Gryffindor common room, grumbling amongst themselves. Watching the excitement of the older students was practically unbearable and the castle had never felt more like a prison to them.

"It's just not fair," Orville Simpson grumbled. "Everyone should get to go. We've all been cooped up." He shuffled a deck of cards repeatedly, the rippling cardboard punctuating his words. Alex Wood watched him carefully.

Peregrin Booth sighed. "Yeah. I can't believe we can't go until next year. If only there were some way to sneak out of the castle without anyone knowing...."

Bill saw that Alex had suddenly opened his eyes wide. "Bill!" he said abruptly now. "Orville! I need to talk to you!"

Orville shrugged. "So talk."

Alex looked at Booth and Leonard. "Not here," he said pointedly, clearly not wanting to include the other boys. He rose and started walking toward the portrait hole, Orville behind him. Bill followed, looking over his shoulder for a moment, seeing the hurt expressions on the other boys' faces. When they were in the corridor, Bill frowned at Alex.

"I think you were rude, Alex. Treating Booth and Leonard that way," he said to his friend as soon as the portrait closed. Alex grimaced.

"Oh, come on, Bill. You're always wanting to include them. Worried your mummy and daddy will think they haven't taught you proper etiquette?"

Bill went pink. "No. Just thinking how much I'd like to be excluded, which is not at all. Where's the harm?"

"Here's the harm," Alex hissed at him. "Leonard's a little rat, and Booth is learning to be one. I'll bet one of them gave that letter to McGonagall about the sixth-years and framed you for it. How easy would it be for one of them to get their hands on a couple of your old parchments?"

Bill frowned; he was still persona non grata with the sixth-years in particular because of that incident; everyone thought he'd grassed on Sirius and James. He didn't know who had really sent the parchment to McGonagall (who had been able to figure out it was Bill's after peering at the writing that had previously been pressed into the surface) and why they hadn't known about Peter and Remus also being out of the castle that night; he just knew that all of the older students thought he was a rat now, and he had been avoiding the common room ever since.

When McGonagall had called him to her office and asked him about the anonymous letter, which was in his handwriting and written over a former Transfiguration assignment of his, she'd thought he was merely being modest when he denied any knowledge of it. Sirius and James had been standing right there, Sirius glowering at him the entire time, James merely looking chagrined. She'd told him not to be worried about retaliation from the older students; she'd see to it that he was safe. Being treated like a baby in need of protection--especially when he hadn't done anything--made him feel even worse.

As he was leaving McGonagall's office, James had said softly to Bill, "Thought you said you didn't do this sort of thing." Bill felt his stomach drop into his feet. James Potter was the last person he'd try to get into trouble, and now poor Potter had a week of detentions, and he thought it was Bill's fault.

"If Booth and Leonard find out we're planning to sneak into Hogsmeade tomorrow," Alex continued, "they'll be running to McGonagall faster than--"

"We're planning to sneak into Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Orville squeaked. "Since when? We'll be expelled!"

"We will not be expelled! We won't even be caught! We'll use that secret passage Bill saw the sixth-years use! It's foolproof!"

Bill wasn't so sure about that. "I didn't show you that so we could--"

"But it's perfect!" Alex insisted.

"We don't even know where it goes!" Bill said angrily.

Alex started to walk along the corridor. "Well! No time like the present to find out! We'll do our homework first, of course. A practice run. Then we'll be all set for tomorrow!"

"Why can't we just go into Hogsmeade tonight?" Orville asked, jogging to keep up with Alex, who rolled his eyes.

"Because we'd stand out like sore thumbs! Tomorrow the entire village will be swarming with students. No one'll notice us then."

Bill held back. "I've been to Hogsmeade, and it's not that great--"

Alex turned and glared at him. "So have I been to Hogsmeade, Bill. That's not the point. The point is getting out of the ruddy castle."

The three of them looked at each other for a tense moment, then the boys continued walking along the corridor. They went downstairs and around corners until they were half-way along the third-floor corridor, stopping before the statue of the hump-back witch.

"Check the classrooms," Alex told Bill and Orville. They nodded and quietly started creeping into the various rooms lining the corridor. They couldn't find anyone about. The three of them were standing around the statue, their wands drawn. Bill touched the hump and said croakily, "Dissendium."

The witch opened and the passage was revealed. Alex went first, then Orville. Bill was about to climb in when Rembert Leonard and Peregrin Booth suddenly ran around the corner.

"There you are!" Booth cried out, breathless. "Don't go without us!"

Bill frowned. "How did you--"

"Not now! We have to get out of sight, before someone comes!" Booth panted, holding a stitch in his side. He pushed past Bill and slid down the passage, followed by Leonard. Bill grimaced, knowing there was bound to be a row when Wood saw them. Sure enough, he heard an outraged roar from below. Sighing, he slid down after them, finding himself in a dusty, dark space lit only by a slit of light filtering down from the torches in the corridor above. The other boys weren't standing in the light; he could hear grunting coming from the blackness. As the witch's hump slid closed, that light disappeared, and Bill took out his wand, saying, "Lumos."

He saw immediately, in the dim light, that his friends were locked in combat, the four of them a mass of arms and legs. Alex had Booth in a headlock and Leonard was sitting on Orville while Orville attempted to smack Booth about the legs.

"Break it up!" Bill roared at them in his new, deeper voice; the echo in the tunnel gave it an added ring of authority. They all sat up, looking at him meekly. "Now that we're all here, we all need to be concerned about getting caught. Let's light wands and try to figure out where this tunnel goes without any more fighting, understand?"

Alex stood shuffling his feet. "I was just trying to get out of Booth which one of them ratted on Black and Potter and made it look like you'd done it."

"We didn't do that!" Leonard immediately cried.

"Ssshhh!" Bill said quickly. "Not so loud!" He scrutinized Booth and Leonard. "If either one of you did do that and I ever find solid evidence, you're going to be very sorry," he said softly. "In the meantime, now that you're here, you'll be in as much trouble as the rest of us if we get caught, so watch yourselves and don't say a word about what we're doing if you know what's good for you."

They nodded vigorously. The others lit their wands and they all walked forward for a very long time, sometimes going down, sometimes up, and making numerous turns. When they went up some dusty stairs and discovered they were in the basement of Honeyduke's, they couldn't believe their luck.

"All we have to do is wait until the older students have left the castle tomorrow, then come down here and let ourselves into Honeyduke's. It'll be like a dream come true," Alex said in amazement as they went back down to the secret passage. That night Bill could hardly sleep, thinking about what they were going to do tomorrow.

However, he couldn't help think that he'd have traded a hundred Hogsmeade trips for the chance to clear his name and have the sixth-years trust him again.

* * * * *

Saturday, 17 June, 1977

Lily rolled over in her sleep, reaching out, but finding her arms empty when she opened her eyes. She sighed. She'd been with Remus again, just two weeks before. She'd had a talk with him a few months before that, explaining to him that she was with Severus, but their relationship wasn't really physical yet, and she was willing to be a "friend" to Remus occasionally, when he needed some help. Just a friend. She said that she knew he hadn't meant to hurt her when he'd broken her leg. However, if her relationship with Severus ever took on a more physical nature, she would have to stop helping him in this way. He had accepted this, wishing he'd been more vigilant about avoiding her, but over the months, he'd let his guard down, and she had surprised him in the corridor outside the potions dungeon. They hadn't been together since December, and although he was mad with desire for her, he managed to be very careful, and that day she was uninjured.

She had separated herself from him quickly afterward, fleeing the dungeon room where they'd gone. Crying as she climbed the stairs, she'd taken herself upstairs to a disused girls' bathroom where she kept having the feeling that someone was watching her. Shuddering, she went back up to Gryffindor Tower, reminding herself that Remus was her friend and would never think of her as anything else, no matter what she thought she dreamed when she was in the infirmary with a broken leg....

Well, she thought, today is a Hogsmeade weekend. The first in recent memory. The headmaster had relented; there had been a lull in Death Eater activity, and the Ministry assured him that there would be numerous Aurors in Hogsmeade and the students would be perfectly safe. Lily certainly hoped so, but safety wasn't really her first concern. She was going to Hogsmeade with Severus. A date, of sorts. But they were going to be careful not to touch--even hold hands--in public, in deference to the rampant anti-Slytherin sentiments in Gryffindor lately, and the rampant anti-Gryffindor sentiments in Slytherin. She sighed deeply; life would have been so much easier if she and Remus--

Stop that, she told herself sternly. Another sigh. Oh, well. She had to stop dreaming and start living. Today she was going to Hogsmeade with Severus. That was a big step. She forced herself to get up and dress before she decided to stay at the castle out of sheer nerves. It will be all right, she told herself. Everything will be fine.

After breakfast, the third-years and up started streaming out of the castle. She walked about a foot from Severus on the path to Hogsmeade; they were surrounded and jostled by so many other people, it was probably unclear that they were actually together. When she turned a little, she saw behind her in the crowd James Potter walking with his arm around Bonnie Manetti's shoulders, her arm looped around his waist, and Lily felt a pang of jealousy that they could do that, as there weren't any rampant wars going on between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Then she noticed Remus walking with Peter and Sirius (who had plenty of opportunities to be with girls in the castle, and didn't want a girl along "ruining" his Hogsmeade trip). Remus seemed very pale in the bright June sunshine, his grey hair looking almost white. She met his eye briefly and turned to face forward again. I will not think about Remus, she thought fiercely. I will not think about Remus....

The people of the village were thrilled to see the students again; they had traditionally counted on them to leave the castle on a regular basis and spend money in the village, but with the moratorium on Hogsmeade weekends, the village merchants were all hurting. Soon Lily found herself laughing beside Severus as they watched a terrible puppet show (the puppets were enchanted) outside Zonko's joke shop, and she took great pleasure in picking out sweets she knew he liked in Honeyduke's. The day was turning out even better than she supposed. When he suddenly reached out, breaking the rules they'd laid down for the day, and took her hand in his as they were leaving Honeyduke's, in full view of Sirius, Peter, Remus, James and Bonnie, who were approaching the shop, her heart turned over and she squeezed his hand back, daring anyone who objected to try anything. Sirius' eyes narrowed as they passed; she glared at him defiantly. Then she saw Remus next to him, appearing rather forlorn, and she swallowed, trying not to think about this, turning away and walking down the High Street, Severus Snape's hand in hers.

They hadn't gone more than fifty feet when the world suddenly exploded.

Lily and Severus were thrown to the ground; he covered her body with his as debris rained down on them, but Lily tried to climb out from under him. Around them, the rest of the people in the street were on the ground also, looking shaken and confused.

"What's going on?" she asked shakily, brushing plaster dust from his black hair. He looked around in a daze.

"I don't know." He squinted back in the direction from which they'd come; she turned also, seeing flames erupting from the sweetshop.

"Oh, no," she gasped. "Remus--James--Bonnie--Sirius--"

Before he could stop her, she was sprinting down the road, holding handfuls of her robes in both hands. He ran after her, and they arrived at the flaming shop just in time to see James Potter, covered in plaster dust, bleeding and with a torn sleeve that revealed a vicious burn on his left arm, carrying Bonnie Manetti from the flaming building, then collapsing in the road with her. Lily went on her knees next to Bonnie and started yelling at her, "Bonnie! Bonnie, can you hear me?"

She felt for a pulse, but the wrist was not throbbing at all, and Bonnie's flesh felt strange to the touch. She moved her hand to Bonnie's neck, to feel for the pulse there, but instead she found a large piece of wood which had been hurled right through her neck, probably killing her instantly. Lily choked back a sob and looked up at James, who had obviously realized before her that it was hopeless. His dusty face was streaked with tears, his eyes liquid blue behind his spectacles. Lily couldn't help the tears flowing down her own cheeks.

"Oh, James! I'm so--so--"

He nodded, cradling Bonnie against him. She remembered the night his parents had died. It just wasn't fair, she thought, that he should lose so many people so young...

She reached for Severus, beside her, for solace, but he wasn't there; she looked up and he was running toward Honeyduke's. "No!" she screamed. "Severus!"

But he was gone, into the smoke. She started to rise, but James had grabbed her wrist. "No, Lily! It's too dangerous!"

"That's why I have to go! He--"

"Lily!" he cried again, looking at her desperately, with tears running down his face. "I--I couldn't take it if--if--"

Abruptly, she pulled him to her and held him while he cried, unable to prevent the tears gushing from her own eyes. He doesn't want to lose me, too. After a minute she separated from him and looked toward the flames.

"Are they--are they all--?" Her voice shook. She couldn't say it. She wondered whether she'd ever see Remus again. Or Sirius, or Peter. Or Severus.

James shuddered, watching. "I--I don't know," he whispered. Then they could see a figure emerging from the smoke, and it was Remus. Lily couldn't bear it any more; she scrambled to her feet and ran to him. He was carrying three people, somehow. Once he was clear of the burning building, he collapsed and dropped them to the ground. He had Sirius, Peter and a small boy with a foxy face, a pointed nose. She threw her arms around Remus and kissed him on the mouth without thinking, then she fell on Sirius and Peter, hugging them too, crying hysterically, feeling completely irrational.

"You're all right! You're all right!" she choked out, speaking to no one and all of them. The three older boys looked at her, their faces grimy and streaked with sweat, their robes singed and smoking. Remus was out of breath.

"I have to go back in," he said finally managed to say.

"Me too," Sirius chimed in. He didn't seem to appreciate being removed from the building by Remus.

She grabbed their arms as they stood to return to the conflagration. "Why? Haven't you done enough?"

Remus shook his head. "There are more second-years in there. They'll die if someone doesn't go."

He pulled his arm away from her and they were both running back to the fire before she could think. She turned and stared at the boy on the ground before her.

"You are a second-year!" she said in surprise. The thin boy raised guilty brown eyes to her. "What's your name?" she demanded. "Who are the others?"

But now the boy was staring at the fire, crying convulsively, unable to speak. She held him against her, feeling motherly suddenly, crying with him. Peter was shaking, but he took out his wand and repaired a cut on the boy's arm, trying to be useful.

"You're Leonard, aren't you?" he said quietly to the boy while he fixed his wound. The boy nodded, still crying.

"Did all five of you come?" Lily whispered, hoping against hope that someone had been left behind at the castle. When the boy nodded again, she met Peter's eyes, seeing the same fear there that she was feeling. Gone. All gone....

Aurors had finally come running; they circled the still-burning building, spraying water from their wands to put out the flames, or just freezing them into arcs of brilliant red and orange tinged with blue. Lily saw one of them, a young woman with a kind face and chestnut hair, kneel by James, talking softly to him, finally convincing him to let go of Bonnie's body and let another Auror examine her. Then they conjured a stretcher and moved her onto it, and the body of the seventeen-year-old girl suddenly seemed very small. The body, Lily thought. She isn't even a person any more; now she's a body....

She turned aimlessly, as Aurors moved about the site of the shop. Finally, she saw a tall, dark figure emerge from the smoke, walking under a frozen arc of flame, followed by two boys staggering, leaning against each other, their arms looped around each other's shoulders. Severus was carrying a boy in his arms; both of their faces were black with soot. From a distance, through the soot, she recognized a bit of the blond hair of Peregrin Booth, and she ran to meet them and the other two boys, who she saw now were Weasley and Wood. It was almost impossible to tell that Weasley had red hair, there was so much ash in it. Severus collapsed on the ground.

"One--didn't--" he gasped.

"You've breathed too much smoke, Severus!" She patted him on the back and pushed his hair out of his face, concerned. He shook his head.

"I'll be fine," he whispered. "Simpson--"

She looked up and Sirius was emerging from the wreckage of Honeyduke's, carrying the Simpson boy. Remus followed him, bearing what seemed to be three adults, who, she was glad to see, were all stirring. Sirius laid the Simpson boy next to Booth, and his head lolled unnaturally; a trickle of blood ran down his face. Lily started to go to him, but Severus put his hand around her wrist, holding it so firmly it hurt. She saw him and Sirius exchange a very grave look, and she knew that, for the first time in their acquaintance, they were agreeing on something. Neither one of them wanted her getting near Simpson. She looked at the still boy, an uneasy feeling growing inside her.

"Is he--"

"Lily," Severus said softly, not releasing her wrist. "There's no doubt."

"But how can you be so sure?"

Sirius swallowed. "Back of the head," he whispered, with some effort. She noticed that he was looking a bit green. Suddenly, he scrambled to his feet and staggered away from them; he wasn't able to get more than ten feet before he began retching onto the cobblestones, and Lily looked at Severus, understanding what Sirius had meant, finally. It was blown off, she realized. The back of his head....

She saw that Severus was also looking rather green, and her stomach moved uneasily inside her as well. Then Aurors appeared by their sides suddenly and helped them to stand; all at once, the sixth-years were no longer adults, taking care of the younger children. They were children themselves again, being hustled out of the way, clucked over and checked for wounds.

They were all transported back to the castle in ambulances, regardless of whether they were hurt. Professor Dumbledore watched the stretchers being carried in, looking very old. Madam Pomfrey obtained some help from mediwizards in setting up a triage center in the Great Hall. Everyone was shaken to the core, looking at each other with wide, stunned eyes. Everyone knew that it was highly unlikely that another Hogsmeade weekend would be scheduled for a very long time.

In spite of efforts to contain the chaos at the castle, no one seemed to be in charge, suddenly; students ran about the corridors visiting one another and the teachers did, too. It was pandemonium, and didn't lessen until eleven at night, when everyone was finally forced to return to their houses, and, ideally, their dorms.

Remus, however, was restless. He had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room, with James and Lily. James was in an armchair by the fire, staring into space, his arm bandaged, Lily sitting on the floor in front of his chair, her legs drawn up to her chest as she gazed at the flames. Sirius and Peter had gone to bed, and the surviving second-years had also gone up the stairs. When he rose to go, no one stopped him.

He wasn't sure where he was going. Perhaps to the infirmary, to see how the wounded students were doing. Perhaps to talk to Dumbledore, or Professor McGonagall; but when he closed the portrait behind him, his ears pricked up; he could hear someone crying, someone not in Gryffindor Tower. He knew that most people would probably not have been able to hear it, but his sensitive werewolf's hearing helped lead him to the sound unerringly. He had to walk up a flight and down a long corridor before he came to a closed classroom door, and then he could smell the person doing the crying, he could smell the soot and ash residue, and knew it was someone who'd been in Honeyduke's. He opened the door and spoke into the dark room.

"Who's there?"

There was silence, of a sort. The boy stopped sobbing and seemed to be holding his breath, hoping Remus would go away, probably. Remus drew his wand and lit it; holding it up, he saw a boy with a young, tear-streaked face and large bloodshot eyes, a nose red from crying.

"Oh, it's you, Wood," he said, pointing his wand at some candles on the wall, which sprang to life. The boy had been sitting in a corner, holding his knees against his chest, but now he stood, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I thought you were in the dorm."

He shook his head, his chin trembling. "I--I can't go there," he whimpered.

"Why not?"

"Because--because it was all my fault!"

Remus strode to him and pulled the boy against him as he started crying again. Wood hesitated at first, then threw his arms around the taller boy, and they rocked back and forth, as Remus' heart ached, wondering what he would have done if, at thirteen he had felt responsible for someone else's death. I could have been responsible for someone dying, many times....

"Sssh, sssh," he hissed at the boy, trying to soothe him. "It wasn't your fault. Even though you lot weren't supposed to be there, you didn't blow up the sweetshop...."

The boy's head was just below Remus' chin. His face was still as hairless as a girl's, and tentatively, Remus reached up and smoothed the boy's messy hair with one hand, trying to be a calming influence. However, he could not help but notice that, in the midst of the chaos and fear, it was very comforting to hold another person's body against his, to feel another heart beating against his chest....

Simultaneously, both boys withdrew from each other in horror. Remus swallowed and felt a warmth rising from his neck, while Wood was beet red, putting his hand over the front of his robes, trying to hide what Remus had already felt when the boy had been pressed against him. Bloody animal, Remus thought at himself, fighting the urge to hide his own reaction to the boy in a similar fashion. He's a child still, and in grief....

"It's--it's all right, Wood," Remus said shakily, even though he wasn't convinced himself. Wood shook his head, biting his lip.

"No. No, it's not. I'm--I'm not right. And--and now Orville's dead, because of me."

"Because it was your idea to go into Hogsmeade?"

"That and--and the fact that--"

Remus frowned. "What?"

Wood was still biting his lip. "Well--I've kept your secret. You know, about being a werewolf hunter." Remus tried not to laugh; clearly, Weasley had not told his friends the true truth. "So--so do you promise to keep my secret?"

Remus nodded, annoyed with himself for feeling another twinge of desire for the boy. Something about sharing confidences was terribly stimulating....

"Well, I--Orville--I mean, he didn't know. I made the other blokes think I fancied Mary Ann Boxwood. All I had to do was deny it at least once a day. But--but it was really Orville. I fancied him rotten," he finished in a rush.

Remus digested this and nodded slowly. "I see," he said simply, not daring to add anything to this.

"Do you?" Wood said now. "He was killed because of me. Because I--I wanted him. Which is unnatural, so--"

Remus frowned and stepped toward him again. "Don't be stupid! Your friend did not die because you had fallen for him. That's superstitious nonsense. And--and plenty of people in the world feel as you do. I mean, men who--who fall in love with men--" he said awkwardly. "A man falling in love with another man doesn't cause the second one to die."

"But he wouldn't even have been in Hogsmeade if it weren't for me! I--I wanted him to have a good time," he said tearfully. "I wanted him to--to just look at me once with--with this way he has of smiling--had of smiling--when--when he was really happy--"

He broke down again and Remus gathered him in his arms again, trying to ignore the fact that this was physically stimulating both of them. The boy cried into his robes and Remus rocked him back and forth, hoping Wood would stop hating and blaming himself and realize that he was perfectly normal. Why can't I feel that way about myself? he wondered. I'm such a hypocrite....

"You wanted to make your friend happy," Remus whispered to him, and he kissed his brow tenderly. "You cared about him and wanted to make him happy. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and none of you could have foreseen that." His voice was very soft.

Then he realized that the boys had probably taken the Honeyduke's passage into the village, remembering that Bill Weasley knew about this. Remus had been confused about why the letter to McGonagall had just said he'd seen Sirius and James leaving the castle; there was no mention of the secret passage, and no mention of him or Peter. (When she'd called James and Sirius to her office and they still had paper napkins from a Muggle pub in London in their pockets, and five pounds in Muggle money, it had been rather incriminating.) Now he knew; Weasley hadn't mentioned the tunnel so that McGonagall wouldn't find out and block it up. He'd wanted to use it himself at some point....

Wood's fingers clutched at his robes. Remus stroked his hair and held him tightly, his own guilt starting to become overwhelming, while the boy sobbed on him and repeated like a mantra the same words:

"It should have been me....it should have been me...."

* * * * *

Lily and James still sat by the fire in the common room; she wasn't sure where Remus was going, but she felt strongly that it was James who needed her just now. Earlier, before Sirius and Peter had gone up the stairs, Lily accosted each of them, giving Sirius a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek, then Peter. They both looked at her with longing, but she didn't notice this. She looked toward the fireplace, at James.

"I'm going to talk to him," she whispered to the others. "I'm afraid of what he might do...."

Sirius pulled her to him in another hug and kissed her forehead. "Take good care of him, Lil." She looked at him gratefully, feeling somehow that he might finally be growing up, a little. Peter seemed a bit agitated, but followed Sirius up the stairs. After Remus left the common room, she moved to the chair where he'd been sitting. Looking restless, James rose and began to pace before the fire. She watched him going back and forth, finally saying, "You mustn't blame yourself, James. I heard you saying over and over, It's all my fault. It's not. You can't go on torturing yourself this way...You'll fall in love again some day...."

He continued to pace the hearthrug, the firelight lighting the underside of his nose and reflecting in his glasses, obscuring his eyes. He rubbed the dark stubble on his cheeks and wrung his hands alternately.

"Oh, Lily, you don't understand...." James took off his glasses and ran his hand over his face. She watched him; he looked very different without his glasses. His eyes seemed so vulnerable, so defenseless. He put them back on before she could think any more about it. "You see--I--I was going to break up with Bonnie today. It--it just wasn't working out...."

Lily covered her mouth in surprise. "Oh! Oh--I had no idea. I thought the two of you were, um, were--"

"Sleeping together? Yes; a big mistake. It made her think--it made her think we were somehow incapable of breaking up. As though that meant we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. I wanted to go slowly, I really did. I'm still not completely clear how it happened...."

Lily turned a bit pink. "Well. You know how it is. Sometimes--these things just--happen." Her voice was very soft. James noticed that she had colored.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "At any rate--we had a row last night. We stopped just short of breaking up. Afterward, I wished I had broken up with her instead of just storming off. Then she wouldn't have been in Honeyduke's.... She probably thought I'd calm down and come to my senses and we'd be right as rain again, you know?"

"If you don't mind my asking--what were you fighting about?"

He sighed and looked down at his hands. "Something stupid. Because it wasn't going to happen. I knew it wasn't going to happen. Ever since the second time we--we slept together, she's been talking as though she's already married to me. Or engaged, at least. She was always saying, When we have a place of our own, or, I'll make sure you never forget to shave when you're waking up next to me every day; you'll have to shave before you can give me a kiss. It was getting on my nerves, rather. I mean, I'm only in bloody sixth year! And if I ever decide to marry anyone, I'd like to ask them myself. Then, last night, she just--I don't know. She pushed me over the edge. I'd been managing not to lose my temper, but I just couldn't stop myself...."

Lily rose and walked to him, taking him gently by the hand and leading him to a chair, making him sit. She sat on the floor at his feet, his hand still in hers, her cheek on the cushion next to his leg. "It's all right, James. When you're ready," she whispered, seeing fresh anguish and guilt on his face.

He swallowed and nodded, looking down at her, at the way the firelight lapped at her features, the way her green eyes glowed softly, the light reflecting in them. He could tell Lily, he knew. She'd understand.

"We were arguing about my dad's name," he said finally, after staring at her for some time. Lily noticed him doing this and decided not to say anything; she found that she was staring right back at him, and was glad that he was preoccupied and seemed not to notice this.

"Your dad's name?"

"Well, see, she was doing it again. Talking about our being married and all. She was saying that when he have kids, if we have a boy, we should name him Henry after my dad, and if we have a girl, she should be Elspeth after my mum."

"I see--" Lily said slowly, vertical lines appearing between her brows despite her best efforts not to reveal her confusion over why this had angered James, other than the fact that Bonnie was being presumptuous again.

"No, you probably don't. I--I just lost control of myself completely. I started screaming at her, `No son of mine is going to be named Henry! If I decide to name my son after my father, his name will be Harry! That's what my father was called! His damn name was Harry!'"

His voice rose hysterically and tears started running down his face as he remembered his father's funeral again, the stupid gits who didn't even know him getting up and talking about how much Henry had meant to them....

He felt Lily's hand on his knee, patting it sympathetically. He fought the urge to put his hand on her head, to stroke her beautiful hair, to brush some stray strands from her brow. Instead, he put his hand over hers. "And my mum....my dad never called her `Elspeth.' He would always put his hand under her chin;" unconsciously, James reached down and did this with Lily, her lip trembling as she felt his fingers brush her jaw; "and he would just look at her and say, `My Rose...' Dad always said there were roses in Mum's face...."

James still held her chin in his hand and Lily looked up at him with moist eyes. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest. "So," she whispered, "if you had a daughter you'd name her Rose?"

He didn't answer, but looked down at her, his heart pounding in his ears, her skin so soft under his fingers. He was a terrible, terrible person. What he wanted to do at this moment more than anything else in the world was to lean down and kiss Lily Evans, to lift up her chin with his fingers and brush his lips against hers, to feel her mouth slowly open under his....

Bonnie was dead. His girlfriend had only just died, and here he was yearning after another girl, one of his best friends, and the girl one of his other best friends loved. He remembered Remus at Lily's bedside, telling her how he loved her. He knew that was why she had wondered whether he had spoken while she was sleeping. Some part of her had heard Remus. She must not believe it really happened, he thought, if she's really seeing Snape.

"I might," he whispered. "I--I don't especially want to think about it at sixteen, though," he added. They were silent again, looking into each other's eyes, his hand under her chin still as she gazed up at him, trying to figure out how she was feeling.

"You know," she said softly after a while, "there's no reason you couldn't just name a boy Harry."

Her speaking jolted him. "Tell that to Bonnie--" he started to say, then put his hand up to his mouth in horror. "I mean--I said that to her, and she argued with me about it. Said that you couldn't name a boy plain old `Harry.' That it wasn't a proper name; it was a nickname. It was what people were called whose real names were Henry or Harold or Harrison....she kept saying you couldn't just name someone Harry. And I kept telling her I didn't care. I wasn't going to name any son of mine Henry and have people calling him the wrong thing all his life. And it was so stupid for me to be talking to her about this, when I didn't even want to be thinking about children at all, especially with her, when I just wanted to say to her, Listen Bonnie, I don't think this is working out... Instead, I was talking just as if I also believed we were going to get married and have kids...."

Lily smiled grimly at him. "She struck a chord, that's all. It's your parents' names. You're not going to take it lightly. Listen, James, just because you had a row before she died...It's not like you killed her, after all. Bonnie was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I doubt you would feel less guilty if you had broken up with her last night. You might even be feeling worse right now. You can't blame yourself."

She clambered to her feet and then leaned down to kiss his brow. He wished he had the nerve to lift his face and catch her lips with his. A shudder went through him; her lips lingered on his skin. She finally straightened up, her face in shadow. She held her hand out to him and he took it, standing uncertainly. She led him to the circular stairs to the girls' dorms and he stopped in surprise.

"Lily--what--"

"I'm not letting you spend tonight alone, James Potter. That's all there is to it."

He clutched at her hand. What did she mean? he wondered. But he followed her up the stairs, not trusting himself to speak, in case a strangled yelp should be all that came out of his mouth. When they reached the sixth-year girls' dorm, she turned the door knob carefully, slowly, creeping into the room after turning to him and putting her finger over her lips. In the light from the torch on the landing, James could see that deep red hangings were pulled around all of the beds in the room but one, near the window. Lily motioned for him to close the door, and when he did, the torchlight was gone and the room was plunged into darkness. Then he felt her hand again, guiding him to the fourth bed. He heard the springs creak as she clambered onto the mattress; he followed her. She was making a rustling noise, and he realized that she was pulling the hangings around her bed so that they would be hidden from sight in the morning.

His heart seemed to be running away with him, it was racing so fast. Then he felt her settle on the mattress next to him in the dark, on top of the coverlet. It was such a strange thing to be doing, to be sharing a bed with someone else, especially Lily (he and Bonnie had never dared to try to spend the night together). He found that she had left plenty of space for him, and that she was lying next to him fully clothed still, her robes over her Muggle clothes, like him. He lay down on his side, only to discover that her hair was in his face. He whispered to her, "Can I move your hair?" He realized that she must have her back to him. She murmured a vague assent, obviously tired and on the verge of sleep. He tentatively reached out and took her hair in his hands, winding it into a rope and gently placing it over her shoulder. After he'd done this, he rested his hand on her shoulder, then ran it down her back, then around her waist, under her arm. He drew nearer to her, spooning her, and she settled back against him as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

James held Lily close and his heart ached within him. He had just lost his girlfriend. He'd carried her dead body in his arms. Publicly, he was obliged to mourn for a respectable amount of time, in spite of the fact that he'd been on the verge of breaking up with Bonnie. It was as though she'd found another way to continue to make him hers. And he was sorry she was dead. In most respects, he'd thought she was a great girl. He just didn't think they belonged together. And he would have mourned her wholeheartedly, he would have gladly gone through the charade of being the bereaved boyfriend, playing his part, doing what everyone expected of him, if it weren't for one small detail that made playing this role far more difficult and far more distasteful than it would have been otherwise:

James Potter was in love with Lily Evans.

* * * * *

Note: I'm feeling rather arty lately, so I included the link to my artwork of Lily and James. It's not really an illustration of the scene; just your basic portraits.

Many thanks to Erica and Court for doing the beta work on this chapter. Get well soon, Andrew !.