Seventeen Forever

Hurriedly tugging their uniforms into place, the group escaped the chaotic crowd around the train and made a break for the pathway that led to the carriages. Once they'd secured a rickety, wooden carriage for their own use, Sirius, James and Remus began throwing trunks onto any open space in the rather crowded carriage.

"Hey! That's fragile!" Maguire exclaimed when Sirius had thrown one of her trunks with a little too much gusto.

"Oh please, let God strike me down if one of your millions of outfits gets wrinkled!" Sirius cried sarcastically, wringing his hands in mock worry.

"Please, if it was your oh-so-precious hair products in that trunk, you'd be having heart failure!" she shot back with a laugh as she reached out to muss his hair playfully. He grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him in a bear hug. Lily watched, scrutinizing the two friends' body language; how close Sirius held her, Maguire's reluctance to let go, how it was oddly unlike any other hug she'd seen them exchange before. She shook her head; today had been weird enough, she didn't need to think about something like a Sirius/Maguire tryst right now. She clambered up into the carriage, closing her eyes for a minute to try and clear her head of the events of the day so far, but the momentary solitude was shattered as the carriage quickly became filled with the bodies of her best friends.

Once they were all situated in the carriage, it took off, rocking and swaying precariously over the bumpy road toward the castle. Loud exclamations of "oof!" and "ouch!" could be heard emitting from the carriage as everyone inside was jostled as the horseless carriage jerked and bounced down the road. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the carriage arrived at the castle and everyone piled out, no worse for the wear but with a few new bruises to sport.

"Oh, I'm going to feel that tomorrow," Sirius complained, stretching his long arms above his head as they hurried up the wide, stone stairs toward the inviting warmth and light the windows promised.

"I know, right?" Maguire agreed, twisting her neck in an effort to regain full mobility in it. "Aphrodite and I could drive that carriage a thousand times better than some stupid invisible pony."

"I seem to recall," Sirius mused, an effervescent grin on his face once again, "a certain someone falling into a river on one such horse one or two years ago..."

"Totally not my fault. Aphrodite threw a shoe; of course I was gonna fall off!"

"Mhmm, I'm sure. Say whatever you like, but I've come to doubt your so-called 'skill' at horseback riding," he jibed, winking at James who winked back.

Lily, Remus and Anna were at the top of the stairs in front of the front door, waiting for their straggling friends, frantically motioning towards the door.

"Hurry up!" Lily's hiss carried out through the quiet night, twenty or so stairs above them. Groaning, the three purebloods picked up the pace and raced to the top of the stairs, Maguire in the lead.

"And victory is just so sweet," she quietly celebrated as Sirius and James dragged themselves up the last few steps. "Better get back into shape, boys, Quidditch starts soon!"

"I...was never...out of shape," Sirius pointed out, panting. "I'm just...tired."

"Oh, so that's what they call being a fat ass now ," she retorted, rolling her eyes good naturedly as they all walked in doors to the Great Hall.

~*~*~

"GRYFFINDOR!" the ancient Sorting Hat screamed out to the filled tables dedicated to the founders of Hogwarts. Sirius hooted loudly, smacking the new, tiny Gryffindor on the back of the head in a sign of welcome as he stumbled to an empty seat a little ways away from the seventh years.

"Ah, newbies," Sirius sighed fondly, throwing the neophyte a thumbs up, as the boy immediately turned tomato red at having caught the attention of a high and mighty senior student. "I don't ever remember being that tiny."

"You weren't," Remus reminded him, a teasing lilt to his normally calm tone. "You were smaller."

"Yeah, you definitely were a midget," Maguire giggled as everyone around them roared in laughter.

"Well, I made up for my size in other ways," he retorted suggestively, wiggling his fingers at Maguire, who shrieked with laughter and pushed him jokingly.

"Yeah, by being the most annoying prick of our year!"

"I seem to remember you being rather small as well, Burgess," Sirius said, a knowing look in his dark eyes.

"And look how I've turned out!" she exclaimed, standing up from the smooth, wooden bench to showcase her tall stature.

"Not what I meant," Sirius fake coughed into his napkin, going in for a bite of his steaming, thick crusted shepherd's pie. Maguire looked at him curiously, as did everyone else, and Sirius nonchalantly leaned his head against one fist and brought the other up under his chest and pushed up. Smiling and batting his eyelashes, he looked at Maguire and he froze as he watched her face go from red to white and her eyes narrowed. Remus' eyes widened in alarm as Maguire continued to glare at him. James kicked his old friend under the table as well, knowing all too well Maguire's sensitivity of any jokes made about her body.

For someone who was so outgoing and confident, Maguire had serious body image issues, which stemmed from her intensely pureblood upbringing. Like most families, her parents valued outward appearances above all and the perfection associated with people of their high standing in society. From a very young age, the ideal of achieving perfection in all ways had been drilled into her. If one thing, one tiny, miniscule aspect of her life was less than perfect, it threw her whole world off kilter. Perfection was life; life was perfection was the way to describe the family motto and her own personal mantra. As she grew older and into her teenage years, more and more of her life seemed to be too hard to control, too complicated for someone of her young age to be able to handle. The parties, drama, family obligations, society's harsh scrutiny of her; it all drove her closer and closer to the edge of insanity as she tried desperately to make everything in her life reach the common goal of perfection. So, since she couldn't seem to control what was going on around her, she controlled the only thing she felt that she could: her body. She carefully analyzed and measured every calorie that entered her body, making sure she got so many 'healthy' and 'safe' foods in her during the day, taking extreme measures to maintain the ideal of perfection that she so craved. Using diet spells, drastic restrictions, strenuous exercising routines and even Muggle techniques of self-induced vomiting, Maguire's body crept closer to death every day, with every pound she lost. She could vividly remember the day everything changed, though.

Lying against the cold marble of her private bathroom floor, Maguire groaned quietly, still feeling the acidic burning in her mouth from yet another round of vomiting. Heaving a deep sigh, wincing as the fire flamed in her throat once again, she tugged herself up against the ivory sink, standing shakily as she fought back against the vertigo she so often suffered from in recent days. As she opened her eyes after catching her breath, she glanced in the mirror, something she rarely did anymore since she hated what she saw. Her disgust rose as she took in the sharp, angles her cheekbones created as they cut across her thin face, making her eyes seem bigger than ever, as the dark circles under them very nearly glowed against her pale skin. Her eyes had lost their shine in them; she couldn't remember the last time she had smiled, either. She slowly held up a skeletal arm, shivering as even the slight movement created a gust of wind that brushed against her paper thin skin, sending goose bumps racing across her body. She plucked at the skin, pulling at the tissue she deemed to be fat and felt her stomach convulse in revulsion. Or was that another bout of sickness about to overcome her? She quickly dropped to her knees, so familiar with the position since she was crouched on the floor for hours at a time during the day and felt her stomach heave as she threw up for the fifth time in the past hour.

When she was finished, Maguire fought to catch her breath, her emaciated chest heaving in labor as she felt the ragged breaths she took enter her lungs. She stood up again, leaning against the sink, clutching it so tightly that she winced as the marble bit into her claw-like hands. Something felt good about the pain, though; she gripped the marble again, tighter than she had before. It hurt, but it felt better than anything she had felt recently. She examined the palm of her hand, peeling it off of the sink so she could study it further. A dark red line imprinted itself across her palm, looking swollen and tender. She traced the line gingerly, wincing again as the pain bit into her skin. Again, the pain felt oddly good; it made her forget about everything but the physical pain for those few moments. She looked around the bathroom, looking for something to test her newfound theory on. Her eye caught the stainless steel metal bars of the shower rack the house elves so dutifully cleaned and organized. Though she was more prone to using Wizarding products to remove the hair from her legs, for some reason, the house elves always supplied the women of the Burgess family with Muggle razors. Maguire quickly scrambled over and ripped open the package, looking at the closed door of the bathroom as if the sudden noise might draw attention in the perpetually empty house. When no one came to check, though she had already known that no one would, Maguire continued on her mission, taking out one of the pink, plastic razors and holding it in her hand. She looked at it for a minute, studying the grooves of the metal blades and how it was made of cheap plastic. Without a further thought, she held her breath, closed her eyes and sliced across her upper forearm.

"Shit," she swore, grimacing at the sudden burst of pain as a line of red bloomed across her pale skin. The stinging of the aftermath hurt more than the actual cut, she decided, as she watched small rivers of blood escape from her arm in a strange fascination, blinking away tiny tears. There was something calming about the brief moment where everything was focused on the blade swiping across skin, creating a cut and watching the blood being released. It was almost therapeutic, in a way. She tried it a second time; once again, a brief moment of pain in exchange for one of...happiness? Again and again, she sliced, cutting further down her arm with each opening. She made about six cuts, eyes closed as she leaned against the bathroom door, breathing quietly as the razor gracefully opened up the skin on her arm with each slice. Going in for the seventh cut, she placed the now bloody blades against her arm and cut again, feeling as if she were an experienced expert. Immediately, she knew she had done something wrong. Maguire's eyes flew open in alarm as a different kind of pain flooded through her, stemming from the harsh, jagged line running across her wrist. Blood, too much blood, was seeping out of it and in a panic, she stood quickly, letting the plastic tool clatter to the floor. Black spots clouded her vision as soon as she stood, causing her to sag against the wall in an effort not to faint. Dizzily, she glanced down at her freely bleeding wrist now, an insistent throb of pain pulsing through her entire arm. The smaller rivers of blood from the other cuts mixed with the gaping gash that ran down her pale limb. Quickly, she reached for a towel, cringing inwardly at the imperfect mess she was making, even now in this direst of situations. She had to stop the blood, staunch the flow; that much she knew for certain. As she desperately tried to plug the cut in her wrist, she could feel the damned vertigo coming back with a vengeance, determined to take her its prisoner this time. A strange ringing could be heard reverberating in her ears and it scared her, since she knew inwardly that she was going to faint, maybe die, even. At that thought, true terror leapt into her throat and once again she thought she was going to vomit, this time out of fear. Tears quickly rushed to her eyes as the blood rushed out of the cut, seemingly never ending.

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't wanna die," she whispered in a panic, as she pressed harder on the wound, flinching at the pain. The ringing in her ears grew louder, the black spots grew bigger and she could feel herself going under as she slid down the bathroom wall. At the same time, she heard another noise, a foreign sound of someone downstairs. She was alone in the house, save for the house elves, so the thought that now an intruder was breaking in as she was lying on the floor, bleeding heavily, did nothing to console her. She burst into weak sobs, the effort draining her as she felt herself grow weaker as every drop of blood left her body. Carefully, she plucked the now scarlet towel from her wrist and looked down. She gasped, another wave of nausea sweeping through her as she stared in horror at what she had done. Red dripped down her arm slowly but steadily, seeming oddly innocent in a way, like a silent, undetected killer. Mesmerized yet sickened, she watched as the blood blossomed at her wrist and trickled down the length of her arm, rocking back and forth slowly. She blinked for a second and was scared when she was nearly unable to open her eyes except when she forced herself, using maximum effort. Again, she heard someone walking through the house, though she didn't care anymore; she was going to die, she knew it. She had cut too deeply, she couldn't stop the blood flow and she was going to die here, in the white marble bathroom that was now painted in bright red blood. Maguire leaned back heavily, moaning when her heavy head hit the wall too hard, sending just another round of pain coursing through her. Her legs were cold, clad only in once proper fitting shorts which were now much too baggy on her. She wanted to wrap her arms around her knees and curl up, but she didn't have the strength to move since just the thought made her dizzy. Footsteps, sounding muffled and distant, echoed throughout the house and a voice now accompanied them. In a vague stupor, Maguire hoped they would find her, maybe too late or maybe right at the nick of time. Her mind told her to scream and yell, to call out for help but she couldn't; her mind and body didn't agree or connect enough for her to actually follow through with the instructions her brain was screaming at her. It hurt too much to listen to her thoughts, let alone deal with the pain burning incessantly on her arm. A deep desire to sleep filled her with tiredness, but she tried hard to resist, desperate to keep on clinging to consciousness. She moaned weakly, screwing her eyes shut tightly in what she knew would be her last attempt at staying awake. Her eyes flew open, however, when the bathroom door banged open violently and nearly hit her, a tall shadow standing in the door way.

"Mags? Mags! What the hell--what the fuck is this? Oh God, what the hell--are you okay?" a masculine, very familiar voice yelled, crouching down to her level on the floor. With bleary eyes, Maguire looked up and met the shocked, terrified face of her older brother. She moaned, the sound barely escaping her lips while her eyes fluttered heavily once, twice and then shut as she finally fainted.

Thanks to Nate's quick action, he was able to close up the cuts with magic and strengthen her after the great amount of blood she had lost. They both knew that if she had had to go to St. Mungo's, their family's reputation would have been tarnished by the rumors of a suicidal debutante, forever marring their advancement in society. The Marauders, Anna and Lily, even their parents, had no idea about the ordeal Maguire had suffered with for that awful year. Learning the tricks of the eating disorder trade came naturally to Maguire; she was an honorary Marauder, after all. She could easily lie her way out of compromising situations and hid her food, vomiting sessions and restrictions with the ease of a natural. Sure, her friends had noticed a change in her, but she was able to brush their anxious questions with an easy lie or two. It killed Nate that he hadn't been able to protect his little sister, but these were monsters he couldn't fight for her; Maguire had to fight them herself, since essentially, the monster was herself.

Eventually, with Nathan's help, she realized how drastically unhealthy her so called 'healthy' lifestyle actually was and changed, vowing to never again touch a razor. She changed her eating habits and strict exercise rituals, overcoming most of her demons in time. But there was only so much change she could perform; while she exuded the image of a confident, outgoing young woman, in the back of her mind she still carried around the fears of being less than perfect. Perfect grades, perfect social life and of course, a perfect body were of the highest importance to her. Maguire hated attention of any kind to her body. Taller than most girls her age, and though she had learned to make jokes about it, she was painfully aware of just how much height was between her and the other boys at school. She could go on for days about all the flaws she found in her appearance; uneven lips, too muscular thighs, knobby knees, but one thing that she truly hated was her chest. As the typical, age old worry for most girls, it was, in her opinion, rather underdeveloped. However, most of the male population at Hogwarts begged to differ, though she had no idea. The dangerous look in her eye plainly said she had not gotten over her sensitivity.

"Then what are you referring to, Black?" she hissed, an icing of sickly sweetness coating her deadly words.

"Oh, come off it, you know," he answered as everyone around him cringed, waiting for the inevitable attack. "There's no need to be ashamed of your body, Maggie."

Her jaw dropped in outright shock. Jerk off, she thought as tiny angry sharp pricks stung her eyes, He knows I hate that...fuck him.

A cold, calculating look came into her eyes and rising out of her seat once more, Maguire announced, "You know, I suddenly remembered."

Immediately, Lily and Anna were on red alert. Whenever Maguire spoke like that, nothing good came out of it. This was not going to end well. Several heads down the table and across the room were turning to watch the exchange.

"I heard you won a contest, Sirius," she said, looking around the table and nodding appreciatively.

"Hmmm?" he mumbled, turning to face Maguire, his mouth filled with shepherd's pie. She took a miniscule step closer to him and James, on Sirius' left, cringed slightly, backing a little way away from him.

"Yeah, it's funny," she continued as he swallowed and looked at her, confused. She took her goblet of fresh, pulpy pumpkin juice in hand and took a sip. "I heard you won 'Asshole of the Century'. Cheers!"

And with that, she casually poured her glass of orange, glistening juice over the shocked head of Sirius Black.

As he sputtered vainly, wiping seeds and juice out of his eyes, Maguire angrily set her now empty glass on the table and excused herself over the roar of laughter coming from the Gryffindor table.

"I'm not really hungry anymore. I don't think I can eat around that," she said, her voice sounding only the tiniest bit strangled as she indicated Sirius with a sharp jerk of her head. She stepped over the bench and sauntered down the aisle and out the doors, struggling to appear cool and confident, while trying desperately to keep it together.

"Ma--Maguire!" Sirius called, just as he had down earlier that day, rising halfway out of his seat, seeds and juice dripping from his hair as he made to go after her. She turned, just slightly through the doors.

"Fuck you," she whispered, traitor tears stinging her eyes again. Even though he couldn't hear what she'd said, her expression said enough. She violently pushed the door open with both hands and left. Sirius slumped back down into his seat, feeling confused, miserable and pissed off.

I'm such a fucking idiot. I never know when enough's enough. Fuck. I'm such a douche for even joking about that. God, I'm such an idiot! He raged at himself, trying not to let his feelings give him away.

James, Lily and Anna were still laughing outright at Sirius, as he glumly picked the seeds out of his sticky and juice doused head. Remus seemed to be struggling to contain his laughter but when Sirius glared murderously at him, he too lost his battle and burst out laughing. With a defeated sigh, Sirius mumbled, "That was a pretty low thing for me to do."

"You think? You know how sensitive she can be," James reminded him with a playful shove and then had to wipe the sticky residue off of his hands.

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know she'd take it like that!" Sirius exclaimed, lifting his hands, palms out. "I was only joking!"

Anna and Lily exchanged an eye roll. Boys.

"Sirius," Anna said softly. "She's a girl. Of course she'd be offended. And then add the whole self conscious thing on top of it and well..." She shook her head.

"But it's Maguire!" Sirius argued. "She knows...well, I'd think she'd know...I mean...ugh," he moaned, throwing in the towel. He couldn't take back what he'd said or try to put it in a better light. He was a jerk and he knew it.

"Scourgify," Lily murmured and immediately Sirius was back to his pre-pumpkin juice appearance. He shot her a grateful look and then commenced to pick at the remainders of his destroyed shepherd's pie. After a few moments, the others noticed his mood swing and exchanged worried glances. Sirius? Not eating? It just wasn't normal.

When the remnants of dinner disappeared and delicious looking desserts took their place on the highly shined, gold plates, Sirius merely glanced at them in passing interest. James was beginning to get frightened. Was his best friend sick? He shot a nervous look at Remus who also appeared concerned.

"Uh, Padfoot? Are you sick or what?" James asked, reaching for a thick, overflowing slice of what appeared to be some kind of fruit filled pie. He swiped the little white cloud of freshly whipped cream off of the golden brown crust and popped it in his mouth. Sirius didn't answer; he appeared deep in thought. James dug his fork into the pie and put the bite in his mouth, elbowing Sirius in the ribs. Oh, strawberry pie. That was new, he decided.

"Eh?" he asked, cocking his head at his morose friend while he nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. "Padfoot, you not eating worries me. Immensely."

Rolling his eyes and stuffing an éclair in his mouth, he clambered out of his seat and mumbled, "Ish schold robly shee mow sheees doiwan." He choked at the end of his garbled reply and coughed, spraying James with bits of éclair and frosting.

"Pardon? Couldn't quite catch that last bit," James said sarcastically, wiping cream from his thickly framed glasses.

Sirius swallowed audibly and repeated himself, saying, "I should probably go see how she's doing."

"And...?" Lily prompted.

"Apologize," Sirius muttered quietly, scuffing his feet uncomfortably against the cold, stone floors. He saluted his friends and slouched down the length of the hall, following the path Maguire had taken more than thirty minutes before.

At the Head table, Professor McGonagall began to rise, surprised that two members of her House were leaving before dismissal. A pale, thin hand rested on her cloaked arm as she was about to call back Sirius and she turned to face Albus Dumbledore.

"Let him go, Minerva," he spoke, calm radiating from his voice. "I am quite confident that he has good reason to skip the remainder of dessert. This is Sirius Black, after all, one of the heartiest eaters I've ever seen grace these halls."

With a sigh, the head of Gryffindor took her seat, still uneasy about letting the infamous Sirius Black loose around the school unattended.

~*~*~

"Goddamn insensitive asshole!" Maguire cried, tugging her school sweater off and tossing it on her bed in disgust. Her button down, so carefully folded and pressed before, also met the same fate, the risk of wrinkles completely forgotten in her rage. Stupid, idiotic ass...

She was yanking off her skirt when something banged sharply against the wooden door of the dormitory. With a surprised gasp, she tripped on the tangled mess of grey cloth at her feet. Quickly tugging on a pair of long, striped pink pajama pants, she stalked to the door and threw it open, demanding, "What do you want--hey!"

Instead of the worried faces of Anna and Lily she had been expecting, a slightly panting Sirius Black was staring at her shock. She was about to tell him where he should go and what he could do to himself when he got there when she realized what was wrong. He was staring partly due to her furious greeting and also partly due to the fact that she'd forgotten to throw on a shirt and was now standing, facing him with only her pajama pants and bra on.

"What the hell? How'd you--out. Out! Get out!" she cried, pushing and shoving Sirius towards the staircase. He struggled, shouting about something or other, but she was beyond caring. As soon as his foot touched the stone flagons, the stairs disappeared and Sirius slid down the stones, cursing all the way down to the floor of the common room. Immediately, he flung himself back at the stairs, but was met with a slick wall of stone and slid back down.

Ha, Maguire thought smugly, smirking condescendingly at him. Let him struggle. She scampered back to her dorm and grabbed a throw blanket, wrapping it around her like a cape. Leaning against the stones that rose up to form a railing to keep students from tumbling to their death, she glared down at Sirius, who was glaring right back up at her.

"The hell was that for?" he called up, rumpling his already rumpled hair.

"The hell was that for back in the Hall?" she countered.

He sighed and studied his feet intently, which obviously must have been much more interesting than the conversation at hand, and muttered, "Yeah, um, about that..."

"Yeah. 'About that'," she scoffed, placing her chin in her hand, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. "That's the understatement of the year."

He sighed and finally met her gaze. "It was a really stupid thing for me to say. It just...I don't know, it just came out. I'm an idiot, a jerk, whatever you can think of, that's what I am."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," she dismissed, angry with him and, oddly enough, herself, but for what she wasn't sure. She didn't know and didn't care. She turned back to her dorm but Sirius called her name.

"Maguire! Wait! Wait," he begged. She sighed, knowing that she would regret it, and turned around.

"What, Sirius? What can you possibly say that will make me feel better?" she whispered.

"Nothing could and I know that. I'm a complete and total idiotic asshole for saying what I did. I can't take it back but...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said it," he murmured, his eyes pleading with hers. She could feel her resolve weakening and then an idea struck her.

Maguire looked down at him and, enjoying herself immensely, called down, "What was that? Couldn't quite catch that all the way up here."

He groaned and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "I'm sorry!" he yelled exasperatedly. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, I'm sorry I'm an idiot, asshole, fucking loser, I'm sorry."

"All right, I guess you're forgiven. As long as you never say anything like that ever again," she threatened, finally laughing. "Stay down there. I'll be down in a second. Wait," she asked, realizing something as she turned back around to face him. "How the hell did you get up here in the first place without the stairs changing on you?"

"I crawled up the banister!" he laughed and she did the same, racing down the stairs.

~*~*~

"Ufff," Lily moaned. "I'm stuffed."

The others groaned in agreement as they walked out of the Great Hall, on their way to the Gryffindor Tower. The feasts of Hogwarts were always what the students looked forward to when they were coming back to school.

"I'm seriously going to have to work it on the pitch or my ass is going to be monstrous," she complained good-naturedly, pinching her gluteus maximus for effect.

James was trying to think of something non-creepy about how Lily could never be fat when a shadow in front of him made him stop in his tracks. He looked up sharply to meet the blue eyed gaze of Albus Dumbledore, smiling at him.

"Good evening," he greeted them smoothly, adjusting his half moon spectacles. A chorus of "Good evening, sir," accosted him. "I trust you are all filled to the brim of wonderful foodstuffs and are off to lay your heads to sleep?"

"You'd guess right, sir," James replied with a grin the headmaster's eccentric way of speaking.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, just one of the persons I wanted to see. And Ms. Evans! What a stroke of luck. Might I request your presence in my office for just a few moments in my office? Forgive me, Mr. Lupin, Ms. Giacomba, for stealing them from what I am sure is far better company than I," he allowed, nodding towards the werewolf and Veela in turn. They assured their Headmaster it was no problem and ascended the stairs, hand in hand, glancing back questioningly.

Gesturing towards the Heads quickly, Dumbledore turned the corner swiftly, his robs billowing behind him with the sudden rush of air. Actually struggling to keep up with their elder, Lily and James jogged slightly to keep pace with him. Lily glanced at Potter just once in confusion but looked away quickly. She had tried not to look or think about him during the remainder of the train ride or at dinner. After the awful Truth or Dare game, which she'd shoved to the back of her mind, he had barely bothered her, almost like he was giving her space. It was kind of nice, she had decided; nice but weird, very weird. Something's up, she thought warily, peeking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Stopping finally in front of a fierce, seemingly normal stone gargoyle, Potter remarked, "This is new."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, yes. I'd forgotten that both you and Mr. Black have been to my office on numerous occasions. I think you'll find this much more...pleasant than my old guardian, Phineaus. Perhaps Mr. Black will enjoy the change more." James snorted and Lily had the feeling as if they were sharing some inside joke.

The stone gargoyle suddenly sprang to life, causing Lily to jump back in fright, as Dumbledore murmured, "Sugar quills." James went to put a hand out to steady her but the look Lily gave him was enough to stop him from even thinking about continuing his well intentioned action. Momentarily, Lily found herself moving upwards, the stairs under her feet revolving towards some unknown destination. When the stairs stopped, Dumbledore opened a wide, glossy mahogany door and stepped inside, beckoning that the two seventh year students to follow him.

Lily gawked at the immense, eclectic room she found herself in. It was the first time she had ever been in the Headmaster's office, seeing as she had never had a reason to find herself in there before, being the ideal student. Strange artifacts adorned all of the surfaces of the room and paintings, as well. The portraits, mostly of men, graced the walls in sizes varying from some as small as playing cards and others as tall as Potter. Some smiled and waved at her, others seemed indifferent and still other painting occupants sniffed haughtily at her. Behind the large, shiny desk upon which numerous papers, objects and books were strewn, a graceful, blood red bird resided on a golden stand, staring interestedly at the visitors.

"Oh," she gasped softly, entranced by the bird's beautiful plumage. As she took a step closer, the orange beak opened and a soft, strikingly pure note wavered in the air.

"Might I introduce you to my colleague, Fawkes, Ms. Evans?" Dumbledore smiled from his seat at the desk.

"He--she--it's beautiful," she finally decided, gender-wise.

"Yes, Fawkes is a beautiful creature," Dumbledore agreed. "You may admire him further, once I have finished stealing your time."

She quickly took her seat, a little embarrassed, and James slid in easily into the one next her, looking fully at ease in the wondrous room.

"Firstly, before I begin, is there anything that you'd like to discuss? Either of you?" Dumbledore inquired, peering at James and then at Lily, perhaps a little more lingeringly. She knew, somehow, some way, that their Headmaster had found out about what had taken place on the train and she mulled over the events of the day, considering how Potter had been acting so far. Maybe he's changed, she thought. I mean, I can try it. Trying won't kill me. He can't be all that bad, I guess. Sighing, she answered, "No, sir, I'm good."

James looked at her in outright shock, having been expecting another explosion like what he'd experienced on the train, maybe sans hyperventilation.

Coughing delicately in the back of his throat, perhaps to cover a chuckle, though James wasn't sure, Dumbledore remarked lightly, "Ah, funny. I thought you wanted to ask me something. However, I have been known to make mistakes and this is one of those times, so it seems. If there are no further questions or objections..."

He went on to explain the duties and responsibilities of the Heads, what their limits were, what privileges they were granted, the schedules they would have to follow and then, when they assured him they didn't have any questions, the seemingly both ancient and youthful Headmaster dismissed them.

Just before the door shut behind them though, he called out to them, saying, "Oh, Ms. Evans, Mr. Potter?" They peeked their heads in marginally.

"Being the Head Boy and Girl comes with both responsibilities and privileges, as I mentioned. One of those privileges is living in a larger, single dormitory for each of you. You'll find your new rooms on the fifth floor. I trust you know where the Prefects' baths are? Just down the hall," he said, smiling innocently and bidding them goodnight, unaware of the storm he had just unleashed.

"Wait--what? Professor!" Lily called, but it was too late as the stones beneath her feet began to move and she clutched James' arm to keep from falling, thrilling him immensely. However, she immediately let go and glared at him.

"What rooms?"

"I swear, I have no idea," James promised, looking just as confused as she felt. She was silent until they returned to the Gryffindor common room, where only a few stragglers remained, most people opting to collapse straightaway into their beds. Lily couldn't blame them; that's what she felt like doing. Maybe then she'd wake up from this twisted dream.

Making the dream even more surreal was the fact that a pajama clad Maguire and fully clothed Sirius were sitting in front of the fire, animatedly chatting and playing chess, looking as though they were back to being the best of friends. Lily groaned, rubbing her temples and James looked at her in concern.

She grimaced and explained. "Today has just been really screwed up. From the train, to the pumpkin juice thing, to having weird rooming arrangements, to this," she said, gesturing towards Sirius and Maguire. "I'm losing it."

"And it's only the first day," James murmured brightly. Lily found herself, shockingly, smiling at him, which only added to her headache. What the hell was going on?

"Oh, hey!" Maguire smiled, the girl who had almost been brought to tears a few hours ago seemingly forgotten. "I was wondering where you were. Anna and I already unpacked, but your trunks weren't there."

Lily stopped breathing for half a second. They couldn't have...She thought, horrified.

"Yeah, yours aren't up in the dorm, either," Sirius said, talking to James. "Where'd they haul them off to?"

"Uh," James stuttered, looking guiltily at Lily. She looked right back at him, just as tongue tied.

"Well, uh, I guess the Heads have, uh, different rooming arrangements," Lily said, her voice a tad bit higher than normal.

"What do you mean, 'different rooming arrangements'?" Maguire asked suspiciously, eyeing both of the guilty parties.

In a rush, James said, "We have our own rooms on the fifth floor."

"Excuse me?" Maguire asked in disbelief.

Lily sighed. "It's like, well, I'm not really sure, but I guess we have our own apartment thing...of sorts."

Maguire's eyes lit up excitedly. "Oh my God, that is excellent!" she squealed. "We're so having a party on Friday there. And oh my God, it works out great! Did you hear the first Hogsmeade trip is this Saturday? So you can go fulfill your little dare and everything! No, no, no," she objected, as Lily began to protest. "Leave it all to me. I'll plan it all out, no worries. Now, trot off you two."

Maguire and Sirius laughed at the expression on Lily's face as she and James left out of the Gryffindor common room to go find their own rooms.

~*~*~

It honestly wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, Lily decided, taking another look around. There was a large, communal sitting room with a dominating stone fire place on one wall with a circle of leather, overstuffed couches surrounding it. Bookcases were placed all around the room and on opposite ends of the living room were doors to their respective bathrooms. She had blushed slightly when she had seen them. Her room was a pale green, with an antique white desk, book cases and bureau. Her large, canopied bed ruled the center of the room, the gauzy canopy looking like something out of a fairytale. To her surprise, when she had gone to inspect her closet, all of her clothes had been neatly hung and folded into proper order. She found herself drawn to the large, bay window so much like the one in her real room and had drunk in the scenery of the grounds until she had finally collapsed on her bed, not even bothering to take her uniform off.

~*~*~

Unfortunately, the first week flew by, ending on a high note with her favorite class of Charms. Lily fell in love with her classes all over again, except for the dreaded Transfiguration. That was the one subject she was destined to fail, never being able to turn out just what McGonagall desired, often producing strange end results. Either she was a total failure naturally or McGonagall was being really tough this year and had decided to fail Lily anyway. But that was an option every year.

Anna and Maguire showed up at Lily's dorm promptly at five o'clock on the dot and were shocked into silence at the room. Minutes earlier, Sirius and Remus had shown up, little Peter Pettigrew tagging along.

"I'll be right back, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," Maguire said, slipping slightly on the shiny mahogany floors. She yawned and glanced at the giant clock above the fireplace. Twelve in the morning, lovely. She tugged her light, cotton tank top back into a better position after she yawned again and bent over to stretch her legs. Sitting on a bed in a cross legged position was not good for her, she decided as she twisted her ankle around in a circle. A cold, autumnal gust of air blew in from the open window to her left and she shivered, hard goose bumps springing up along her unclothed limbs immediately. She hurried over to the fire to warm herself, clutching her arms across her torso. As she toasted her toes, the door to James' room cracked open and Sirius slid out deftly, calling, "Bathroom trip, gents." He stopped short at the sight of Maguire warming herself by the fire.

"Hey there, stranger," she greeted him and he jumped, startled.

"The hell?" he whispered, blinking in the shadows the fire threw across the walls. "Oh, hey. Um, why are you here?"

"Um, why are you here? Please tell me you and James aren't having some sick, illicit gay love affair," she begged jokingly.

"Oh, damn, it's true," he sighed with a laugh as he sank down into the stuffed cushion next to her. "We're actually having an orgy; Remus and Pete are in on it."

"Mind if I join?" she giggled, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

"Eh, maybe another time. So, are you all in Lily's room, playing makeup and dress up?" he asked, batting his eyelashes girlishly. She shoved him playfully.

"Oh, definitely. You should come and play, you'd enjoy yourself," she retorted as she poked her tongue out at him.

"I think I will," he said, jumping up and racing to Lily's door. He barged in and shouted, "Hello, ladies!"

Shrieks and screams greeted him and he looked confused; why wasn't anyone pleased to see him? Lily quickly threw a blanket over herself and Anna grabbed one for herself as well, quickly scrambling under the blankets to cover her pajama clad figure.

"Sirius!" Lily cried, jumping off the bed and shuffling towards their unwelcome visitor. "Out! Out, out, out!"

James, Remus and Peter hurried out of the opposite room, stumbling over each other in their hurry to investigate to screams.

"The hell is going on?" James asked, mussing his thick, black hair.

"Sirius," Lily growled, a thick blanket thrown around her, as she tried to dislodge the suspect in question from her room, "is being a pervert and came into our room!"

"Sirius, what the hell?" James asked, surprisingly turning on his friend. "I mean, we all know you're constantly looking for some, but come on, have some self control!"

Silence met his little speech and then Sirius burst out laughing.

"Ouch, that hurt," he said sarcastically, holding his heart as if he'd been shot. "I wasn't doing anything, just thought I'd pop in for a visit."

"Oh, I'm so sure," Maguire said, grinning. "A little visit, that's all he wanted, James."

"Pretty please, can't I stay?" he jokingly begged, getting down on his flannel clad knees and pressing his palms together. "In fact, let's all stay! We can hang out in here."

The group warily looked at each other, females versus males. Peter Pettigrew looked as he was about to die of mortification because, unlike the other Marauders, he was wearing fuzzy, red footie pajamas. Remus, James and Sirius had all just thrown on ragged, beat up pajama pants and shirts. However, only James and Remus had opted to keep their shirts on, letting Sirius be the one sole male flaunting his admittedly good pectoral muscles.

"Well," Lily considered, biting her lip in consternation. "I guess it's okay. Just give us a second." She and Anna quickly ran back to Lily's room, Maguire following close behind. The Marauders looked at each other, bewildered.

"I..." Sirius began, seeming as though he was about to deliver a great oratorical statement, "am confused."

"You're not alone on that one," James agreed. "You idiot, do you know how close you came to annihilating us all? Lily looked as she was about to have a freak out!"

"She was probably worried that she wasn't decent, you morons," Remus finally spoke, rolling his eyes. "Imagine, if you will, being caught in your pajamas by a bunch of guys. Seriously, at least they have some modesty," he said pointedly, looking at Sirius' bare chest. The Marauder in question immediately puffed out his chest and grinned proudly.

"Ah, there's nothing like flashing the guns to the ladies," he declared striking a pose.

"What guns?" Maguire called from behind the closed door suddenly, as the other girls burst into giggles.

"You know what guns! I saw you staring!" he countered.

The door opened and she stepped out, this time wearing a long, too big, navy rugby jersey over her blue and white flannel shorts. Her floppy slippers scuffed the wood floorboards as she tripped over to join the boys.

"God, you're a mess," Sirius said, catching her by the arm as she nearly fell. "You can find something to trip over on a flat surface!"

"But I'm a hot mess," she teased, pouting her lips and blowing a kiss.

"Eh," was his unimpressed reply. Plucking at the voluminous folds of her shirt, he asked with a raised eyebrow, "Um, big enough jersey?"

"Not mine; it's Nate's," she answered as she plopped down in front of the fire once more. She quickly conjured a few rounds of Butterbeer and cracked the top of off one for herself, taking a long sip from it and letting the delicious, buttery warmth fill her.

Cautiously, the door opened again and Lily and Anna stepped out. Lily had thrown on a long sleeved thermal and the longest pair of pajama bottoms she could find, so long that they draped onto the floor. Anna had chosen to borrow a pair of Lily's pajama pants and had left her thinly strapped tank top on. She went over and sat next to Remus on the couch and laid her head on his shoulder, smiling sweetly up at him.

For a while, it was slightly awkward for the group to interact because the situation, to say the least, was tense due to the sexual tension of the male/female dynamics coursing through the air. But soon, everyone was laughing, teasing, and downing bottles of Butterbeer just as they had done on the train. And, once again, they played the fateful game known only as Truth or Dare. All too soon, everyone's eyes began drooping and they realized that it was very late and that the trip to Hogsmeade was the next morning, so they stumbled off to bed.

Lily lay in her bed, mulling over the last week as the darkness of her room lulled her senses.

Potter's been halfway decent to me, she grudgingly allowed. He's not too much a jerk and recently he's been backing off. It's kind of nice...I wonder what he has planned...