A Chance You Only Get Once

Chapter Seven
Politics

Well, that's certainly interesting, the hat murmured in his ear.

The boy was nervous, and when he was nervous he sneered at whatever was frightening him. "Like it takes a lot to interest you. You're awfully dull, even for a hat."

And I suppose your father has better ones? Is that the next line you're planning to say?. . . No. . .I see not. Cleverer than most then, that's a little more original than the rest of the heads I've been sitting on all night.

"What is?"

What you were about to say.

"But I hadn't thought of it yet."

Maybe not so clever. You underestimate things you don't understand. Here's a lesson for you boy -

"I don't need lessons from a hat. You can't even figure out which house I belong in. Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Slytherin. I'm not getting off this stool if you say anything else. I'll just sit here until you take it back."

Yes, and you're just the sort for it too, if you won't listen to a being who's been witness to the wisdom of every genius ever to enter Hogwarts. I'll tell you anyway, as you may not always be so concerned only with what's right in front of your face. Not all power is of your nature, and not all knowledge is what you've been disposed to. There are other routes to greatness than the one that you have chosen.

"I'm not going to change who I am for a stupid hat."

By the staff of Merlin! I don't want you to, boy. I just want you to realize that their are other paths and others who will take those paths. Don't dismiss them because they do not follow your path. Or are you too full of yourself to learn that much?

"Since you seem to find it so distasteful to talk to me and I'm not leaving until you say Slytherin, why don't you just bloody well say - "

"SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

Professor Lucille Delacour was the second smallest teacher after Professor Flitwick. Her long brown tresses the color of mahogany curled down her back until, rumor had it, she could sit on it. And not one strand of it was ever out of place. Her eyes were an emerald green that sparkled with her considerable intelligence and spunk. She displayed both to her classes at all times.

She had a brother who was still in France and thought her daft for coming to England, everyone knew this because every time she got sick of the rain or the Ministry for Magic she remarked that she should have listened to him. It was James and Sirius, of course, who asked her (repeatedly) why she hadn't.

Professor Delacour, to everyone's immense surprise, had answered one day out of the blue. Even she looked surprised that the words she was muttering under her breath were audible to the rest of the class. Lily later claimed that she had intended to cast the charm only to make it audible to them. Marissa and the Marauders later wondered why they had given Lily that particular job.

"I woold go anzeewhere to escape that leetle devil that has me brother by the throat, that blonde beetch 'oo I fully believe eez a veela like the roomers say," she muttured bitterly, completely unaware that the entire class could hear her mumblings. She had looked perfectly horrified when she did realize.

Not that the class liked her any less for what they thought of as the Outburst. The Potionmaster from France had never been a professor in need of color (like Professor Sinistra whose blandness invited stories that may or may not be true about her husband's gift of the Day Star Room to her). No, the small (anywhere else she may have been called "tiny" but at Hogwarts that was reserved for Professor Flitwick) Professor Delacour was made interesting by virtue of having never attended Hogwarts before she took the position in the dungeons of the great castle. Her fabled first year (which none of the students left at Hogwarts had actually witnessed) of grand complaints and endless tirade against the dungeons had led to Dumbledore fashioning large windows with a gorgeous view of a garden swathed in light to be placed in her office, despite the fact that it was underground. The tiny dial that allowed her to control the weather had put an end to her complaints and reconciled her to Hogwarts Castle at last until she, in later years, claimed to prefer it to Beauxbatons. No one was quite sure if the believed her.

Afterall, she started all her lectures on the Gryffindor/Slytherin spats she had to witness with a proclamation that they had never had these kinds of inter-House problems at Beauxbatons.

Like the one she gave at the beginning of class on their first class in March. Double Potions was their first class on Tuesday. It was a wonderful way to start the day, with the Slytherins, they all agreed. Not that they escaped seeing the Slytherins in class on any day but Friday.

The lecture that Professor Delacour visited on them that day was unique only in that it occured at the beginning of class before they had even had a chance to squabble at eachother across the dungeon. "It 'as occured to me that the Inter-'Ouse rivalries between Slytherin and Gryffindor will never 'epair theemselves on their own. But do not deespair, fo' I have a plan. Starting today we will 'ave assigned partners in all potions experiments. I 'ave assigned the partners as such. . ."

Not one Gryffindor was paired with a member of their own house. Lily Evans drew Annette Penola; Sirius, Jessica Havisham; Peter, Augustus Trabb; James, Igor Karkaroff. But Marissa drew the ultimate short straw. Severus Snape. As there were more Slytherins, some of them were lucky. Professor Delacour warned them that she would be switching the partners routinely. No one was particularly sorry to hear that.

Professor Delacour was not a teacher blessed with the gift of keeping a class silent with minimal effort. But that day you could have heard a pin drop.

Marissa's spirits had dropped again once her Valentine's Day mission was behind her and she had nothing to distract herself with. Still, they were significantly improved from the week before Valentine's Day. The most obvious sign of this was that she was allowing her friends to cheer her up now. Still, Lily worried that two hours spent in Severus Snape's exclusive company was not the best way to mend her fragile spirits. Particularly when she noticed that they were talking. Marissa may be the only Gryffindor who could truthfully say that she had never gotten into a fight with a Slytherin, even a verbal exchange of insults, possibly in the entire history of Hogwarts, but with Severus Snape Lily highly doubted that the conversation could be very pleasant. Not even the other Slytherins liked him.

Despite Lily's dire reflections, Snape and Marissa's conversation was limited to "I'll slice the shrivelfigs" and "Would you please pass the toads you de-horned? It's time to add them." If the Slytherin's comments were tinged with, "Do you think you're capable of..." and "If it's not too difficult for you..." then Marissa handled it all in stride the way her fellow Gryffindors never would have.

What was truly dangerous was a line of questioning that occured as it neared time to place all the ingredients in the cauldron, "I think I should tend the cauldron, yes? I hear you burned that little brat of yours trying to cook. That's how you were found out, yes?"

Marissa's mouth fell open at the unprovoked attack, moving soundlessly as she stared at Snape. "What do you know, the Gryffindor golden girl is as stupid as I suspected," he sneered at her shocked silence. "Then again, you are clever about procuring sympathy."

Marissa just stared at him, "What do you mean by that?" the tightness in her voice revealed her anger. Sirius and Remus who were working nearby and subtly keeping an eye on her and the slimy git jerked their heads up at the tone of her voice.

If Snape noticed, it only egged him on to greater heights. He could handle Black out of class, and don't even make him laugh mentioning Lupin. And it wasn't as if Saint Fletcher was going to do anything about it. Besides, he was enjoying the reaction that his taunts were (at last after five and a half years) getting out of her. "Oh, it's just that you seem to drop into your mourning routine only when the attention has fallen off you somewhat. So tell me, you miss the limelight so much that you have to reinvent your grief for a mother who died nine years ago?"

Marissa gasped and dropped her knife with a clatter as she backed away. It was a good thing too, because the next second, Sirius Black had launched himself at the Slytherin and was lifting him up by his collar, tall enough that the Slytherin's toes were barely touching the ground. Remus had sprung into action a moment later, but not to separate Sirius from the slimeball like had often been his role, but to place a comforting hand on Marissa's shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, as if he had startled her out of inner reflections. He shook his head to indicate that no one (probably not even Snape) believed his taunts. She tried to smile weakly in thanks.

Meanwhile, Sirius still had Snape by the throat and was shouting at him to apologize. A ring was beginning to form around them when the petite brunette burst through it looking daggers at all of them and forced the two apart almost effortlessly. No one had anticipated Professor Delacour being so strong. "I theenk that we 'ave 'ad enough Inter-'Ouse Politics for today," she said as she glared back and forth between them. "Class dismeessed."

Before she could stop herself, Lily cried in surprise, "But professor, we haven't finished the potions yet, and you said it'd be on O.W.-"

"I said, class dismeessed, Mees Evans," Professor Delacour said pointedly. "Everyone but Mr. Black is free to leave. You will stay to deescuss your detention."

Everyone gathered up their books and hastily exited the room. The moment they were up the stairs, the other three Marauders exploded into loud complaints about Sirius's sentence. "The things Snape said to Marissa!" "Like the slimy git didn't deserve it!" "You know Snivellus was trying to fight back, and because of the fact that he can't Sirius is the one who gets punished!"

"Relax, mates, it's just a detention," Sirius said with a self-satisfied not remotely penitent smirk on his face. "It was worth it, believe me. Can you imagine anyone sinking so low to insult her mother?"

"You shouldn't have hit him, Sirius," Marissa said, breaking past them and running up the steps. Lily ran after her, glaring back at the boys for all the world as if they were the ones who had caused Marissa's distress.

* * *

Remus was almost apprehensive when he entered the Charms classroom after dinner and saw Marissa sitting and staring out the window waiting for him. Her mood was so fragile these days, and Snape's well-aimed insults had shattered it apparently. She didn't notice that he was in the room until he said awkwardly, "So...this morning..," why was it suddenly so hard to string a coherent sentence together? They had talked (once) about her mother and he hadn't been this tongue-tied. Now he couldn't discuss some petty insults that a slimy git of a Slytherin had said to her.

"I probably shouldn't have snapped at Sirius, he was just defending me," Marissa said before sighing and turning to face him. There was a slight frown on her face that looked monstrously out of place.

"He's not upset with you, just thinks you're too soft on Snivellus," Remus said with a weak smile.

"That's a horrible insult with you Marauders!" Marissa cried with a laugh in her voice. Remus suppressed a sigh of relief at the sound of it. "Anyway, let's see, are we about due to start the tango?"

She had spent only their first lesson teaching him how to move and now they spent two nights a week learning and practicing countless dance steps. She insisted that he not "fall into a rut" as she called it. Remus wasn't entirely sure what the reference was (when he asked she said something about wheels on carts getting stuck in roads, but he had stopped trying to understand at "It's a Muggle thing from when mules had to pull carts...") but what it meant to him was that she wouldn't let him just memorize a series of steps. She made him improvise.

"Didn't you say we'd have to learn pavanes first? Something about the footwork - "

"Oh yes, yes," she remembered. "Very well," she waved her wand and stately orchestra music filled the room. Once they were in position, she began to describe the steps to him, correcting him slightly as they went. By the end of thirty minutes, she they had gone over all of the standard steps in the dance and Marissa had instructed him to lead her around the room using them. After several minutes of concentration, he was comfortable enough with this that they could talk.

"So when did you first learn dancing? It's like second nature to you," Remus said. He changed directions abruptly, but she followed him without a faulter. He smiled down at her when she opened her mouth to protest, an eyebrow raised to remind her of the flawless manevuer she had just executed.

"Oh all right, I'll tell you," she conceded. "My mother started teaching me when I was five, in preparation for my first cotillion at six."

"Five years old," Remus marveled, shaking his head. "Somehow I expected your mother to, I don't know, break the mold of your neighborhood in that department."

"Me too, truthfully," Marissa replied thoughtfully. "Though it makes more sense now that I know she's a witch, a lot of things do for that matter. But this, how was she to know that not all Muggle society was like that? That most would find it extreme? And she was embracing Muggle society fully afterall. Throwing children together from about the age of twelve on, hundred of old women playing matchmaker and cackling behind their hands, bureaucrats with their political wives, businessmen dangling the marriages of their daughters and sons for merges and business dealings..."

"And it might not have seemed so alien to her," Remus said with a long sigh, "Not if she was a pureblood."

"Don't tell me!" Marissa cried, looking at him in surprise.

"Substitute the dancing for Quodpot, crochet and polo for Quidditch, and age twelve for age six and you about have it," Remus said, scowling down at the floor at the stiff memories of his starched and ironed childhood, his parents twice as desperate as the rest to fulfill every protocol and be dubbed normal by the insane club.

"Age six?" Marissa cried in surprise and alarm. "That's literally cradle-robbing!"

"That's why purebloods don't marry Muggle-borns," Remus sighed again. Marissa stiffened in his arms, looking up at with an inscrutable expression on her face that was very close to rebuke. "Oh, don't get me wrong, some of them are fiercely prejudiced. But most families aren't anymore, even some of the Slytherin-based ones. The real reason that purebloods don't marry anything but other purebloods or half-bloods is that they're all paired up in the parents' minds by the age of eight at the latest, long before the Muggle-borns get their Hogwarts letter and join the wizarding world. They're three years too late to be the parents' choice."

"I thought that arranged marriages expired years ago! Didn't Binns say once in class that the Ministry repealed the legitimacy of it?" Marissa said curiously.

"Oh yes, but you'll know whom they've chosen for you because her parents as well as yours will be throwing you at her constantly," Remus explained. "And if you're too thick to get it through your skull, most of them will tell you almost bluntly. And if you don't care for that girl...there's snubbing, tears, and if you and they are both really determined..."

"Disinheritance," Marissa finished.

Remus looked down in slight surprise, "Yes, how did you - "

"You think that Muggles haven't found that particular way around the end of legal protection of the antiquated practice?" Marissa looked at him with a half-hearted smile on her face. She let out a long sigh, "Is there no where safe for the debutante?"

"Well, there's Hogwarts," Remus replied with a warm smile. "Beauxbatons is infested with the game and I don't even want to think about it at Durmstrang. Professor Delacour must have been disinherited or nearly to have remained single this long. But Hogwarts is like a haven. Dumbledore doesn't let anyone, not even the parents, put pressure on us here. That's why Sirius dates so determinedly."

"What?" Marissa said, truly surprised.

"What, did you think he just couldn't settle down? It's a kind of defiance of his parents, like most things that he does," Remus replied. "Even his happy demeanor I sometimes think is a way of thumbing his nose at them."

"And would James have any of that? Or is it just a coincide that Lily's a Muggle-born?" Marissa asked pointedly.

"James's case is very different," Remus replied. "He has good parents."

"Don't you, Remus?" Marissa asked, peering up at him soliticiously.

"I love my parents, Riss, don't get me wrong," Remus assured her. "But they love the game of it. Obsessed is what they are."

"Have your future wife all picked out?"

"No. They don't."

"How can you be so sure? Didn't you just say that Hogwarts was a safe zone? Maybe they're waiting for you to leave it," now she was teasing him.

"Believe me they don't."

* * *

"Gideon, I hope you know you can't ignore me forever."

"I can try."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. You're doing a very good job of it. You're being an idiot about it too. Why won't you at least talk to me?"

"We have nothing to say."

"Bullshit."

"Yes, I guess I did speak incorrectly. You have plenty to say, obviously. I, however, have nothing to say to you."

"So, what then? You just want to pretend it didn't happen?"

"Pretend what didn't happen?"

"Oh that's real mature, Gideon. Real mature."

"Listen, Walker, I don't have time for this so either grow up and leave me alone or get it through your head that you and what happened both mean absolutely nothing to me, understand?" Gideon yelled at her walking away faster than she could follow him. Lizzie didn't attempt it, nor did she say anything else. She hadn't really expected it to be that simple. That's why she had a back-up plan for this encounter.

"Gideon!" a voice cried loudly the moment he rounded the corner.

"Hello, Marissa," Gideon said tiredly but cordially. "What is it with blondes today and tracking me down in the corridors?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Gideon," Marissa lied, "But I wanted to ask you something. It's about Valentine's Day..." Gideon waited semi-patiently for her to explain. "Well, ever since then you've been...more distant with me than usual and...I was wondering...did you think I was too, I don't know, overenthusiastic or something? Are you upset or - "

"Are you crazy, Fletcher?" Gideon cut her off. "I wanted you to take the job away from Lockhart. And wasn't I in your Special Presentation?"

"Yes, but...did you think that I went overboard just like we were all afraid that Lockhart would do?" Marissa pressed.

"Marissa...yes, you sent a deluge of confetti down on us but at least you waited until we finished eating and yes, you had little 'cupids' delivering messages all day that got on some people's nerves, but at least they weren't disgruntled dwarfs who don't appreciate being stuffed into pink wings and carrying harps. And you made a joke out of serenading the school," Gideon outlined. "So yes, you went over the top, but you did it tastefully. So yes, I'm glad you took over Valentine's Day and no, I'm not upset with you. In case you haven't noticed, I've been short with just about everyone. Sorry about that."

"I have noticed," Marissa said with a slight smile. "But...what about charming everyone so that if they kissed fireworks and cherubs would fly all around them?"

Gideon actually stopped his furiously paced walk. He turned to look her full in the face, "That was you?" he cried before he could realize that this would be a mistake.

"Gideon Prewett!" Marissa cried as if in surprised delight at discovering at secret.

Gideon's eyes went from incredulous to closed in a fraction of a second and he turned briskly and walked away even faster than before.

Marissa was almost jogging to keep up. "Now, is that fair? You have to at least tell me who now!"

Gideon stopped so quickly that Marissa nearly ran into him. His eyes were flashing when they met hers. "Don't you think you've done enough, Fletcher?" he said angrily. "Leave it alone." And with that, he walked away from her as well, hoping fervently that she didn't talk to Lizzie.

* * *

But even Gideon Prewett's anger could not compare to that of James Potter when he saw Lily Evans walking down the corridors, calm as you please, hand-in-hand with Dennis Wemmick. The Hufflepuff surprised and impressed Marissa and the other Marauders when he didn't quail in the face of James's rage. In fact, it would be difficult to say that he batted an eyelash at the younger boy's fury.

Nor did he so much as comment on the buckets of ice water and worse that seemed to be falling on his head at an unusually high rate, it never occured to him to wonder or tattle when his food was spiced to a degree far too hot for a British tongue and water mixed with his milk, Dennis Wemmick didn't offer the Marauders a single outward sign of annoyance for the immense effort they expended in drilling minute holes in his potions cauldron. Professor Delacour had an arguably more vocal reaction to this last one, giving them a week of detentions and adding an additional chapter to her Chronicles of the Lost Cauldron or whatever it was titled this week.

After that it was all tripping him in the Courtyard, kicking chairs out in front of him in the Great Hall, invisible and often unrecognizable unpleasant articles being left on his seat in classes (how they had derived his schedule was the most impressive thing about this prank). Wemmick's one and only comment on it was made to Lily, "It's really not so bad by half as what I expected. I truly expected them to be much more creative in their efforts."

"Don't say things like that, it's tempting the gods," Lily had chided him, glancing uncomfortably over her shoulder as if afraid to find that she was being followed.

And of course all this made him the hero of the James Potter Fan Club. What had started out officially as the Gryffindor Booster Club founded jointly by Lily and Marissa, the even then entirely female group had grown so star-crazy over James's flying ability that even before the love triangle gone wrong, Lily had found the meetings too sickening to continue to attend and lead. That left Marissa alone at the helm of twenty-odd girls all mooning over one of her best friends who already had a rather swollen head. When girls from other houses began asking to join and even attending without permission, the club lost all pretense and the Gryffindor Booster Squad became a separate group within the larger James Potter Fan Club.

And of course, what club devoted to worship of James would be complete without those pining devotely for Sirius Black? It was virtually impossible to separate them in anything, and this was too grand a joke on too large a scale for him to be left out. In all but name, the group of gabbling girls was pledged to moon over Sirius Black as well.

But Sirius, at least, dated some of them. James was like a unicorn. In the uncatchable sense at least. There was only one girl that he wanted, the only girl who didn't want anything to do with him (excluding perhaps someone like Narcissa Black, but that's a separate issue). Lily Evans. And of course, Evans never had a boyfriend who would claim her for long with Hogwarts' leading prankster out for his blood. So there she was, distracting Potter from his adoring fans by her involuntary single status. But not anymore. Dennis Wemmick had stepped up to the plate. He had taken the object of James Potter's affections off the market and out of his reach. Now, he could get his head out of the clouds and appreciate the gaggle of girls who were vying for his heart.

Or, at least, that was the prevailing theory at the next meeting that Marissa presided over. That and the fact that the fact that Marissa's friendship with Lily was compromising her ability to lead the club. One Natalie Blaise was of the opinion that her "association with the deluded woman continually rejecting the god in our midst cannot but cloud her own vision and thus render her incapable of leading this club in the direction intended." It was said casually, but it was plain that it was a challenge.

"This club was intended to be a Gryffindor-only club devoted exclusively to Quidditch, Natalie. You have not expressed an interest in either in all the time that I've known you," Suzie Q. had retorted on Marissa's behalf, all but glaring at the Ravenclaw beauty.

Marissa, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently warn her off, sized up Natalie's bid for the presidency appraisingly. Her eyes flicked over the faces in the group behind her and those watching the scene with worry on their faces. It wasn't as if girls hadn't tried to oust Marissa from her position before. The last girl who had come close to actually threatening her had been rewarded with no greater victory than that Marissa's leadership became official. That was how the position of President of the James Potter Fan Club had been created and come to rest on Marissa Fletcher's shoulders in one swift manuveur. Natalie Blaise couldn't compete, whatever she thought. Not when she had underestimated Marissa so grossly.

To Natalie Blaise, Marissa Fletcher was probably no more than a naive, sweet, crowd-pleasing girl who was at least half-cheerleader because she had thought to found a Booster Squad. And ineffectual enough that she had let it become something quite different from her original intentions. But was it weak to change your agenda to fit your means and current problems? No, it was merely resourceful. And if there was one thing that you could say about Marissa Fletcher, it was that she was resourceful.

Marissa doubted she would even need her trump card to maintain her status in the club. And she needed to maintain it. She was the only one of the girls in the entire room that would exercise and enforce the necessary restraint. And she was the only girl in the room who wanted to see James Potter scale down his head.

It was going to be a long night.

"You know, it's funny that you say that, Natalie," Marissa replied in her typical cheerful voice. "Because Lily founded this club with me."

"And ducked out when she saw what it was becoming," Natalie replied with the same frozen smile on her face as before, a hint of victory in her tone. So she thought she had won that easily did she?

"Yes, for the precise reason that you worry about," Marissa returned. "So she wouldn't be sitting in the back, doing her nails and rolling her eyes. At that point, Lily and I made a patented agreement to agree to disagree about James Potter. We swore an oath not to speak of him in our dorm. An oath we've kept faithfully...on days he doesn't do anything interesting." This ellicited a laugh from all the girls but those posed behind Natalie. "The arguments we've had about him!" Marissa laughed at the very real encounters she was describing. "The arguments I've presented to her would make Severus Snape worship James Potter. Thanks to her influence," Marissa couldn't resist drawing out these last four words, "I have amassed no less than ten separate presentations of these arguments. Ten different reasons that I call..." With a flourish, Marissa pulled out her wand and waved it at the blackboard, "The Top Ten Reasons Why James Potter Deserves Our Admiration."

At her words, the list began to materialize as if an invisible hand were writing on the blackboard. "Item One," Marissa read off, chancing a glance at Natalie's angry face before she surveyed the room. Support from all but those around Natalie and defeat in her supporters' eyes. Apparently they too had underestimated Marissa Fletcher.

Natalie made no less than five additional attempts to undercut Marissa's authority over the club during the course of that one meeting. Only her final attempt had even flustered Marissa. She quickly recovered. When Natalie and her group left, sulky and vengeful, Marissa let out a long sigh. Having to distract from Natalie's attacks was a useful way to evade a confrontation, but very difficult to work into the flow of the meeting. As such, the agenda had been royally screwed by the time Marissa adjourned the meeting.

Oh well, there wasn't another Quidditch Match for Gryffindor until the end of the year. And Quidditch matches were always Marissa's main focus, a hold-over from the days when she and Lily had run the Gryffindor Boosters together.

"Natalie Blaise wants to be team captain of the Potter Patrol," Marissa said when she entered her dorm room to find Lily seated on her bed with a book in her hands. "Seems to think that being antagonistic will get her anywhere, that one."

"Club politics, spare me," Lily all but grunted, not looking up from her book.

"C'mon, Lils, you're my best friend," Marissa playfully pretended ignorance of Lily's intense dislike of the concept of a James Potter Fan Club. "Shouldn't you care that Natalie Blaise is out for my job?"

"Here's an idea," Lily replied from behind her book, "Let her have it."

"And have her singing odes to Dennis Wemmick? Is that what you want, Lily Evans?" Marissa asked.

"As you have ceased talking sense, I am going to ignore you now."

"He's their hero now, don't you know? For taking you off the market and away from James's reach supposedly," Marissa continued cheekily.

"Club politics, spare me," Lily repeated drolly, turning the page in her Advanced Transfiguration book.

"Still think you have nothing in common with those...what do you call them again?" Lily finally looked up to see Marissa's undeceivingly innocent look.

Lily immediately returned to her book. "You mean lunatics? Or delusionals? Or cheerleaders? I live with a girl who's all three, so it's rather hard for me to tell the difference most of the time."

"Have a date tonight, Lils?"

* * *

"James convinced you to do what?" Sirius exclaimed, staring at Marissa's notepad as the trudged out to the Quidditch Pitch with the rest of the school.

"Catalogue all the plays that Ravenclaw makes. Says since Slytherin's style of play is so similiar to Gryffindor's it would be...what was that phrase he used? Contusive to the training program? To have Ravenclaw's methods of countering it written down," Marissa replied with a bright smile. "Lily here agreed to help me."

"I told her she should suggest to James that he get a video recorder and catalogue it himself, but Riss here insists on being overly helpful," Lily said slightly sullenly as she stared gloomily at her feet. For Lily Evans, Quidditch had about the same appeal as sharing a room with the new Petunia.

"Nah, Muggle contraptions don't work at Hogwarts," Sirius said off-handedly. Both of the girls stopped dead in their tracks and turned around to stare at Sirius in wonder. "What? You think a pureblood can't know things like that? Muggles have some damn useful devices. Damn shame they don't work here really." They were still staring mutely at him. "I wonder why he wouldn't want the Marauders to help him out, though? Or Jacob Bell, he's down with an injury."

"Arm injury, genius boy," Marissa retorted rolling her eyes. "And between Remus's lack of knowledge and interest in the sport, which he won't admit to, Peter's poor eyesight, which he also won't admit to, and your tendency for getting distracted, I think James knew exactly what he was doing asking Lily and me."

"He doesn't have a death wish. He didn't ask me directly," Lily mumbled sounding distinctly put out and giving her friend a pointed glare she knew wouldn't faze her in the least.

"What does she have over you, Evans, to draw you out here so early on a Saturday morning for your arch nemesis, Quidditch?" Sirius asked, leaning forward conspiratorily.

"Oh, I've just threatened to tell everyone about the original Singing Incident," Marissa replied gaily for all the world as if the question had been directed at her.

Lily stomped on her foot hard, glaring at her best friend, "And part of this arrangement is that that night is never mentioned however obliquely!" she practically shrieked. Marissa only laughed. They had received the pitch and were climbing up the stairs into the stands.

Sirius looked thoughtful. Dangerously so. "Hm, there are any number of spells that could be cast on a person that he or she is more vulnerable to if singing...the question is which one? Was it a truth charm?" Lily tried not to jump in surprised alarm. "No! Whatever did you admit to, Lily?"

"Oh let her be, Sirius," Marissa said with a wave of her hand.

"If he figures out anymore, I will kill you Marissa Jane Fletcher," Lily whispered fiercely in her ear as they took their seats with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Suddenly worried about your memory charms, Lils?" Marissa teased her as the Slytherin team in dark green robes made their way out onto the Pitch.

"Good morning Quidditch fans! This is James Potter taking over for our regular announcer Head Boy Gideon Prewett who is feeling under the weather. And now..." the distaste was plain in James's voice, "I give you the Slytherin Quidditch team..." He seemed slightly more pleased by the boos echoing from the stadium as he announced their names with marked disgust, "Pucey, Bletchely, Malfoy, Flink, Derrick, Bole, and Higgs. Captain Terence Pucey shocked the entire school at the beginning of the year by adding Valerie Malfoy to his roster, the first girl to make the Slytherin team in anyone's memory."

"Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice said warningly.

"What, Professor? It's true! I'm just giving some background on the match," James cried, innocently incredulous at her reprimand.

"Try to keep it to the match, Potter," Professor McGonagall said tiredly.

"Righto, Professor," James replied cheerily. "And here comes the Ravenclaw team led by captain Peggy Kong. Kong's main find this year was Cindy Liu, the team's Seeker who's sure to give Higgs a run for his money. Not that she'd give me one, of course. Easy Professor! And there's the Patil twins Larry and Barry, well matched as Beaters against Derrick and Bole despite the significant weight advantage of the Slytherins. They make up for in speed what they lack in dumb bulk. And then of course, Henderson, Davies and Bryce make up one of the more creative Chaser teams in our school's league, nothing like the crude violence popular with the Slytherin team -"

"James Potter! If you cannot commentate in an impartial manner - "

"Don't know what she's talking about. I think he's making a noble attempt to be unbiased, don't you think?" Marissa said with a laugh.

* * *

The door to the Prefect's lounge opened and closed with a snap. Gideon didn't turn around. He was staring out the window to the distant view of the Quidditch Pitch where the match was in full swing. Every once in awhile he caught a string of James's comentary, whenever he got particularly angry or excited and the volume rose accordingly.

Gideon sighed for more than the fact that he was missing the match. He knew what prefect would throw school spirit so blatantly in the face to miss the match. And it wasn't Stacy Meirson who had never shown much interest in the sport.

In fact, her speaking was really an unnecessary confirmation. And one that he didn't want. She was about to speak, when his voice rang out, "I knew I shouldn't have begged off commentating. I may have had to sit next to you, but at least I wouldn't have had to talk to you." He turned around in his seat. "So, did you get down to the pitch and fight your way back up to the school on the off-chance I'd be here? I find your determination acutely annoying, Walker."

"Give me a little more credit than that, Gideon. The Head Boy commentates at Quidditch Matches unless he plays or doesn't want the job. The next person that they ask is...the Head Girl. McGonagall talked to me yesterday after you 'begged off' as you put it. I merely confessed my inferior knowledge of the sport," Lizzie explained in a cheerful voice, walking slowly forward. "So I never went down to the pitch, no."

"Brilliant, Walker. My congratulations," Gideon spit sarcastically, brushing roughly past her to the door. It was locked.

Shooting his fellow Head a furious glance, he yanked out his wand. "If you're about to use 'alohomora' don't bother," Lizzie replied, again almost cheerfully. "A girl doesn't get to be Head without learning a few tricks."

"Let me out," Gideon said in a dangerous voice.

"If you really wanted out, you'd already have the door open," she replied.

"Ah," Gideon said, his eyes lighting up with sudden understanding. "A will power spell. But do you really think that your will is stronger than mine, Walker?" his voice was almost derisive.

"In general? I haven't the slightest idea," Lizzie replied casually. "In this particular case? Well, I suppose we're about to find that out, aren't we?" Her voice held a challenge.

Gideon stepped forward until he was standing mere inches away from her, looking quite menacing. "We're going to talk about what happened, Gideon. No matter how many supposedly intimidating scowls you can put on." He said nothing, merely stared at her no less hostilely. After a moment, Lizzie was prepared to take this for a temporary agreement.

"Gideon, I'll admit I haven't been marking your steps well enough these past six years to know if this should mean anything to you. But it meant something to me. I can count the boys I've kissed on one hand. Three fingers is more like it. And none of them felt like that. Only you've made me feel like that," Lizzie sounded aggressive rather than tender as she spelled out her feelings.

"And that's why you can't conceive of it not meaning anything to me," Gideon said in a hard voice.

Suddenly Lizzie was yelling, "I can't conceive of a man that I thought respected me kissing me like that when he doesn't give a damn if I live or die!"

"Of course I give a damn whether you live or die why the flying fuck do you think I'm doing this?!" Gideon exploded, drowning her out. He spun furiously on his heel and made for the door, raising his foot to kick the door down. But before he could touch it, the door flew off its hinges and cracked loudly against the far wall of the corridor. Gideon turned to look at Lizzie who looked quite alarmed at his display of accidental magic. Or maybe it was his words.

A second later she had apparently recovered. "Gideon!" she shouted as she ran out into the corridor, sliding on a sliver of wood as she did so. It would have been a nasty fall if Gideon hadn't roughly caught and righted her. Before he released her arm from his very tight and almost painful grasp, she said, "The castle's empty, everyone's at the match. Who are you afraid will see?"

There was a moment of hesitation as their eyes met when Gideon was processing what she meant. The next second he was kissing her forcefully, nothing at all like their timid and tender first kiss. The next thing that she knew she was pinned up against the wall as he continued to kiss her fiercely, holding her still every time she attempted to break away.

After a long moment, he pulled away, still holding her to the wall. "Is that what you wanted?" he released her and she slid down the wall an inch or so before she rested firmly on her feet again, shaking and drained from the force of Gideon's kiss. "Now leave me alone, Walker."

* * *

It was an exciting game. Even the Gryffindors, who were rather torn over who to support when a Ravenclaw victory would mean they would have to beat them by a much greater margin to win the Quidditch Cup but supporting Slytherin felt wrong on so many levels, had enjoyed it immensely. In fact, almost the entire House had stayed in the Common Room to discuss it. Ravenclaw would be celebrating and Slytherin would be hiding in shame to emerge only when their smug looks could be pasted on again. That left Hufflepuffs if they wanted to venture out into the areas common to all of the Houses. While not generally a bad sort, Hufflepuffs tended to form very close groups within their House that left looking for friends outside it quite unnecessary.

As was inevitable at every mass gathering of Gryffindors, there was a call for Marissa's latest magic tricks which she gladly graced the cheering crowd with after submitting to several spells to keep her from using magic. Although they'd seen most of them, all but one really, everyone cheered loudly at what had become her customary finale: performing what with a wand would be a simple levitation charm on an Exploding Snap card and spinning it around her body and from her hand. Just before it exploded with a pop she tossed it up into the air so that the explosion took place over her head.

Afterwards, she left the thick of Quidditch fans and gossipers and made her way across the Common Room to where Remus Lupin sat on one of the few more isolated couches. "Sitting all alone, Remus?" she said as she plopped down next to him.

"Not anymore," Remus replied. "So you have your pick of anyone in Gryffindor Tower to approach after that stunning display that proves Muggles more ingenuous than wizards, why did you choose someone like me?"

"You're the kind of person I can rely on to be there when everyone else gets tired of just smoke and mirrors," Marissa answered with a smile.

Marissa sighed and settled further back into the cushions of the couch. Despite years of wear everything in the Gryffindor Common Room was so wonderfully comfortable. Everything in her house was was stiff and didn't give an inch when she sat down. It was probably because of how many people had sat down on them, as opposed to her house where none of the chairs were properly worn-in even after almost a decade in the same spot.

"I was watching you during the match today," Remus broke the silence. Marissa looked over at him, "You don't like Quidditch, do you?"

"No more than you do, Remus," Marissa answered honestly with a small smile.

"Am I that obvious?" he groaned in slight alarm.

"Only to someone who wasn't watching the match with bated breath," Marissa laughed. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Remus tried not to blanch.

Apparently he failed. "What? That worried your friends would turn on you if they knew the truth?"

"No, they're so loyal they could be Hufflepuffs if they weren't so brilliant," Remus said staunchly.

Marissa tried to look stern at his stereotypical joke but was grinning despite herself. "So what? Just afraid of being left alone in the Tower for a morning?"

"Why don't you tell me your reasons," Remus countered. "Afterall, you are the one who pretends with a vengeance. Imagine you and Lily starting that Booster Club when as it turns out niether of you like Quidditch!"

"It's not so unreasonable when you think about it," Marissa replied calmly. "We started the Squad so that we'd have something to do during the matches. We were both friends with James back then, so it wasn't as if we could weasel our way out of them. As it turns out, herding an insanely large group of crazy girls and shouting almost embarassing rhymes can be quite a good way to pass the time. And it's not like we have no House spirit, that is genuine excitement when we win. This way we can experience the euphoria of winning without having to endure hours of tedium beforehand. That and no one suspects. You're the first person in six years to figure me out."

"I suppose I wasn't so clever, how long have you known about me?" Remus asked curiously.

"Last year, when you made up excuses to miss two matches, one of them even a Gryffindor one," Marissa replied. "Obviously false ones too if I do say so, should I be giving you lessons in lying rather than dancing?" She looked over at him and sat up straighter in alarm, "Oh Remus, I'm so sorry!"

"What? Why?" he said, pulling himself out of the panic that he had experienced with great difficulty. The real reason hadn't been his dwindling interest, but his lycanthropy. And the idea that she could see through him so easily was more than a little alarming. Marissa Fletcher must not know. Any other secret of his or the Marauder's she was welcome to, but not that. He couldn't lose her as a friend. And even if he could have been convinced that she wouldn't turn on him, he remembered the look of horror on Sirius's face when James and Peter worked it out. And as a Muggleborn, she could never think of a werewolf as anything but a monster. The way she had blanched when she learned that they were real in Defense Against the Dark Arts third year!

"You looked so upset, did I offend you somehow?" she sounded worried and self-reproaching.

"Oh, no, I'm just disappointed that I was so obvious," Remus lied (he hoped) smoothly.

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

"Yes," he insisted firmly. Thinking it time for a change in subject, he added, "So tell me, why did Lily bail out of the club before she started hating James?"

"We both almost did," Marissa confessed. "It's actually rather sickening to see the mass histeria that he evokes among the female population of this school, him and Sirius both. It doesn't do their raging egos any good, that's for sure. And it's also the reason that I stayed with it."

"To contain it?"

"Only in part," Marissa leaned closer, speaking conspiratorily. "You see, I've been working on project DJE, Deflate James's Ego, for some time now. Obviously the subtle stuff won't work and as Lily's proved spectacularly, pointing out his flaws doesn't do a heck of a lot of good either. So I'm trying, as a kind of last ditch effort, to go so overboard that he realizes that he's not in fact a god at Hogwarts and becomes embarassed by all the attention." Remus snorted. "I didn't say I'd get there by being conservative."

"You know, that actually explains quite a lot," Remus said. "In fact, I think I like you much better now."

"Oh really, how kind, thanks so much."

"No, I mean it. And out of curiousity, just what do you have planned next on the DJE front?" Remus asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

Marissa didn't hesitate a second before answering obtusely, "Just be sure that you don't miss the next Quidditch Match."

"Couldn't afford it," Remus shook his head. "Can't have anyone else catching on to my darkest secret."

* * *

Prefect meetings had grown distinctly uncomfortable after the infamous Second Kiss. It made Gideon's previous attempts to ignore her look quite passive. Now he refused point blank to respond if she spoke to him, had suggested that they trade off running the meetings week to week to reduce the amount of coordinating they had to do together, and bluntly refused to look in her direction whenever they were in the same room. Even if it was the person next to her who was speaking.

Lizzie found it unexpectedly lonely running the meeting herself and suddenly understood why Hogwarts always appointed leaders in pairs. It was a daunting task to shoulder alone. So she was relieved enough to have Marissa's support that she didn't bat an eye at her rather outrageous plan on the Cheering Up Gideon front. At least she wouldn't have to carry the weight of the meeting on her own, and maybe it would teach Gideon a lesson for leaving her to it in the process.

"All right, I know I've been stalling the last five minutes, but it's time to bite the bullet and get this thing started," Lizzie said.

"Fire away, oh fearless leader," Marissa returned immediately. Nearly everyone else in the room looked slightly baffled by their phrases.

"Since Mr Prewett doesn't seem to have anything to add, I suppose I'll have to step up to the plate."

"It's a right Kodak moment, your first meeting handled alone."

"I just know this is going to trigger rambling."

"Until you sound like a broken record."

"It's a domino effect. It's a roll of the dice to trust me with anything."

"Hey, that's no fair! Two at once! For that, you'll be sleeping with the fishes tonight."

Although after that Lizzie settled to the agenda, only two people understood the majority of what was said all meeting long. Marissa and Lizzie. Afterward, a very disgruntled collection of prefects spilled out into the hallway, a by no means cheered up Gideon in the lead. He was just about to walk out of earshot when he heard Tirone Quirrell, the sixth year Slytherin prefect mutter to David Saylor, "What else did you expect from a girl like that? Truth be told, I'm surprised this pathetic excuse for a Head Girl hasn't devolved into talking nothing but nonsense before. Stupid Mudbloods, the both of them. What could ever have possessed Dumbledore to make a stupid Mudblood Head Girl? He must have gone batty."

Gideon whirled, in one glance taking in the smug smirk on Quirrell's face and the shock and hurt on the faces of Marissa and Lizzie who had obviously overheard. The next thing that anyone knew, Gideon's hand was at Tirone's throat and he was being thrown up against the wall. Gideon's angry voice rang through the corridor, as he shouted fiercely, punctuating some of his words but banging Quirrells' head against the stone wall. "Shut that gaping hole in your face you slimy, gutless little weasel! Anna Jacobs Prewett was Muggle-born and she was almost as great a Head Girl as Elizabeth Catherine Walker! And if I ever, ever hear you say anything like that again I swear I'll make you wish you had never been born into a family of such bigoted, hypocritical, pitiful rejects and lived to express such an opinion! You spineless, brainless, worthless little snake."

With a final violent shake, Gideon dropped Tirone to the ground and walked over to Marissa and Lizzie still radiating anger. So much so that he was unable to repress it as he told them forcefully, "And if either of you ever let something that those rejects say hurt you, you're even stupider than they are." And with that he walked off.

The instant he was around the corner, Lizzie turned to Marissa. "I stand in awe," she said quietly. Then her voice grew excited, "You got him out of his daze! You're brilliant! Thank you, Riss!"

"I didn't think it would work quite that well," she admitted. "Sorry, Tirone. Thank you for doing this, and I am sorry that you almost got killed for it. Not what I expected, I assure you."

Quirrell laughed, "I owed you one, Fletcher. But we are definitely even after that one! Man, I thought he was going to put my head through the wall!" Marissa, Lizzie, and Remus laughed, ignoring the stares of the rest of the prefects who hadn't been clued into their plan. Quirrell was Marissa's favorite of all the Slytherin prefects, seeming to possess an appreciation for right and wrong even if he was very preoccupied with the study of the Dark Arts. Instead of being alarmed by this interest as she often was in others of his House, Marissa merely considered that he would make a great Defense professor someday.

"C'mon, Riss, I've had enough politics for one day," Remus said ushering her off toward the Grounds where the other Marauders and even Lily had agreed to meet them after the meeting was over. He fully intended to spend the afternoon getting Lily and Marissa to explain the myriad of phrases that he had heard in the past hour. Afterall, considering they were all in the world he had grown up in, shouldn't he be the one explaining what things meant to them all the time? He'd never understand how with Marissa and Lily it always seemed to be the other way around.

©KatyMulvaney6-21-2004