The morning of the Quidditch final is overcast with dull, grey, heavy clouds. Lily, looking out her dormitory room window, scowls a bit at it.

"Don't worry. The clouds will burn off before the match," Glynis says, from across the room and without so much as a glance at the window, and in that cheerfully sure way she has of being certain of things she can't possibly be certain of.

Glynis is almost invariably correct, however, about things she says in that particular manner, so Lily turns her attention away from the sky and to the three of her roommates who aren't on the Quidditch team. Cliona was gone when Lily woke up, though whether there actually was some sort of planned dawn team meeting or she just couldn't sleep, Lily doesn't know.

She is not, however, at all surprised to discover that while the Gryffindor common room is practically vibrating with energy and the hum of voices, there's no sign of Cliona, James, or their teammates.

They've been fairly scarce these last few weeks, as the final gets closer and the practices get longer. Lily has mostly seen her boyfriend in classes, at meals, and on the handful of occasions they've managed to be in the common room at the same time. (And if Lily has, once or twice, taken advantage of those occasions to slip completed copies of some of the more time-consuming Potions assignments into James' bag, well, what of it?)

But it's finally here, the last match of the year, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, with the Quidditch Cup on the line. One way or the other, it'll be over and done with in a few hours.

It's felt different this year than it did last year, the run-up to the final game. Partly because, while Gryffindor and Ravenclaw both want to win (and both can reasonably expect to), and while each house is perfectly capable of being a bit snide about the other when the occasion calls for it, it's not like it is with Gryffindor and Slytherin (but then, what it?). And partly because, Lily thinks, it's all so different between her and James this year. There's been no grand promise to win the Quidditch Cup for her this time around, and she's glad. Because the game has enough riding on it in and of itself, and because while Lily definitely wants James to win, she wants James to win for himself and his teammates and Gryffindor. Not for her.

The clouds have, as predicted by Glynis, burned off by the time the students reach the stands and it's a perfect day for a Qudditch game. Lily takes a spot between Mary and Remus, which cannot properly be called a seat because none of them do all that much sitting during the match. It's not the sort of match you sit through.

Because it is, as the teams mount their brooms and the Snitch darts out of sight, really and truly anyone's game. Gryfindor and Ravenclaw are fielding incredibly good and evenly matched teams. Gryffindor has the better Chasers (of course), but Ravenclaw has the more accomplished keeper. If Ravenclaw has more precise Beaters, Gryffindor has more creative ones, and both teams use the Bludgers very effectively. And as for the Chasers . . . Raquel Clayworth and Ellery West are often little more than blurs of red and blue (respectively), weaving in and out of twelve other players, a referee, and three darting balls in pursuit of what appears to be a particularly elusive Snitch.

It's not just a good game, it's a great one, one for the record books, and so good in fact that Lily keeps finding herself watching the game instead of watching James. (And watching James is easily one of her very favorite ways to spend her time these days.) The team trades goals, and the lead, and the occasional foul for the better part of four hours. And the students watching the match cheer and gasp and occasionally hold their breath.

And like all great Quidditch matches, it ends abruptly and spectacularly, with Raquel Clayworth diving fifty feet almost impossibly vertically to close her hand around the Snitch. And there's a proper explosion of noise Gryffindor's end of the stands, and no one actually hears the announcement that Gryffindor has won 470-310.

But that's exactly what they've done.

James, Quaffle still in hand, spins 270 degrees in the air and looks straight at Lily -- never mind the distance from him to her -- with the Jamesiest of all Jamesish smiles. And for one second, Lily thinks her knees might have forgotten how to work.

Then James vanishes into a scarlet-clad, multi-armed, tangled mid-air hug of Quidditch players.

"Come on," Remus says, pulling her attention back to her immediate area. "We should move away from Sirius before we hear any plans for this evening's celebration which we cannot, as prefects, condone."

(And if that takes them down closer to the field and the players, well, again, what of it? There are congratulations to give, after all.)

"Nobody's going to sleep tonight, are they?" Lily asks, as they weave their way through a sea of cheering Gryffindors.

"Not a chance," Remus says.

Because Gryffindor -- and James -- just won the Cup.

And a celebration is definitely in order.

It's one of those things Lily has noticed about James. When he's interested in something he's talking about, invested and committed and involved in it -- he's just so animated. His eyes are bright and alert, his hands make grand sweeping gestures as he talks. She doesn't even have to be able to hear what he's saying to know he's on a topic he's excited about.

It's ridiculously attractive.

She doesn't even mind that the topic currently causing this animation is Quidditch.

And it's not really that she would necessarily choose to sit by during a two-hour dissection of the two-hour Slytherin-Hufflepuff match she just watched, but she doesn't mind, either. (It helps everyone's mood, of course, that Slytherin played their worst match of the season, and given their other two losses, that is saying something.)

James takes Quidditch very seriously, and even though Gryffindor won't play either Hufflepuff or Slytherin again till next year, there is still post-game analysis that must be done with the rest of the team. And Lily likes that James takes Quidditch -- his commitment to his team, the responsibility of being Captain -- seriously. She likes it a great deal.

And if that means she has to sit on the other side of the common room for a couple of hours, playing chess with Mary and playing very badly because she's spending as much time watching her boyfriend talk to his team as the she is watching the board . . . well.

He's ridiculously attractive.

That said, neither she nor her poorly commanded chess pieces have any objection when the team's conversation finally breaks up. Or when James, who still clearly has too much energy to spend the afternoon sitting in the common room, suggests that they take a walk around the grounds.

Lily is quite relieved when she looks out the train window and sees the outskirts of London.

Of course, now that she's reached London, she has to deal with her interview, but at least that's something to do. The problem with this trip is that there has been entirely too much thinking and entirely no doing of anything.

Now there will be plenty of doing things, starting with finding James, who is meeting her at Euston Station. She had mentioned, one afternoon at Hogwarts, that she wasn't actually sure how to get to Diagon Alley from the Muggle train station and did he know the closest Tube stop? And James had assured her that he would meet her at Euston Station and make sure she got to Diagon Alley safely and on time and not to worry about it at all.

The train rolls to a stop, and Lily picks up her handbag and makes her way with the jostling morning crowd out onto the platform.

All she has to do now is find James.

Or, more likely, wait for James to find her.

(He's showing an amazing talent for it, recently.)

The hardest thing to get at Hogwarts is not, contrary to popular belief, an overt sign of approval from Professor Grindstaff.

It's privacy.

With hundreds of students living four and five to a bedroom, even a castle as big as Hogwarts can feel pretty crowded.

Still, most students have at least one place they go when they want fifteen minutes alone (or alone together), though not all of these places are as private as would be ideal.

Lily has a windowsill in a little niche in a stairwell. She and Mary found it as first years, after a series of wrong turns it still amazes Lily that they could recreate well enough to find it again. It's a stairwell that doesn't seem to be the most direct route to anywhere, so it's generally (but not always) a place that no one else will be.

It's where Lily's headed this evening. Not because anything is wrong, but just because she wants a few minutes to herself.

At least, that was the plan.

Before . . .

"Please, just leave me alone."

It echoes off the walls, from up ahead and around the corner.

And the slight distortion from the echo isn't enough to disguise Mary's voice.

Or Mulciber's.

"You can't go yet. You just got here."

Lily has her wand out before he's finished speaking. Just ahead, at the corner, she can see what she knows is Mary's wand, cherry and unicorn hair, lying on the stone floor, where it was dropped or, more likely, where it landed when Mary was disarmed. Lily moves as quickly as she can without letting her footsteps make any sound – surprise is one advantage she doesn't want to give away, here. She stops just long enough to collect Mary's wand, and then steps around the corner, her own wand level and ready in her left hand.

Mulciber is a few yards ahead, his back to her. At the other end of the short corridor, twenty-five feet or so away, is Avery. And trapped between them is Mary. They're not aiming spells quite at her – not yet – but a few feet to either side, watching her scuttle and twist to get out of the way of the bright green sparks that instead hit the stone walls.

It's worse, somehow.

And Lily just might be angrier than she has ever been in her life.

"That's enough," Lily says, in a loud, cold, steady voice.

Her wand is pointed at Mulciber – he's both a better wizard and a worse person than Avery. But she's not an idiot, she's expecting the curse Avery sends from his end of the hall. "Protego. Impedimentia," she says, and has her wand pointed back to Mulciber to block his spell, even as Avery hits the floor, struggling against the jinx. "Protego. I said that's enough," Lily says, moving toward Mary without ever taking her eyes off Mulciber.

"Evans," Mulciber says, with a leering sort of smile that makes Lily's skin crawl. "If you wanted to play, too, all you had to do was ask."

"We're leaving," Lily says, reaching Mary and handing her wand back to her. "You'll want to get out of our way now."

"Don't think I do, actually," Mulciber says.

"Then you won't like what happens next," Lily says, her eyes and her wand never leaving Mulciber.

Mulciber starts laughing. "Was that a threat, Evans?"

"Yes, it was. We both know you're not the best duelist in this corridor, don't we?"

"Maybe," Mulciber says. "But I'm not the one who's outnumbered."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lily sees Avery getting to his feet again.

"I don't think you can take both of us at the same time. Not for long. Not alone," Mulciber says.

"She's not alone," Mary says, though her voice isn't quite as steady as Lily would like.

Mary has many wonderful qualities, but this is not really her strong suit.

Lily can probably beat Mulciber or Avery, but Mulciber and Avery can probably beat Lily and Mary. Especially as she and Mary are stuck between them, a single target to the double one presented by the Slytherins.

Avery laughs, and those same green sparks shoot past them, a foot to Lily's left.

Mulciber doesn't waste his time with sparks. "Confringo."

"Protego," Lily counters, though she's going to have to get off the defensive to have any chance of getting out of this.

Especially if Mulciber is breaking out curses like that.

Spells flash up and down the corridor for more than a minute, leaving a scorch mark up the wall, blasting a suit of armor's arm off.

And then Avery manages to hit Mary with the same clothes tightening curse from last year, and Lily has to turn away from Mulciber to break it, because that spell will kill her, and it's all looking very bad until …

"Petrificus Totalus," says a voice behind Avery, and he falls forward to reveal Remus Lupin, wand already leveled at Mulciber. "Good evening, Lily. Mary. Mulciber. Avery," he adds, stepping over the fallen Slytherin and into the corridor.

Mary's sitting in the floor, catching her breath, but with the spell broken, Lily can turn her wand back to Mulciber as well. "Remus," she says. "Thank you for stopping by."

"Heard a commotion," Remus says. "Thought I'd check things out. Since I am a prefect."

This last is less conversational and more pointed, a reminder to Mulciber (and the still fallen Avery) of exactly who, and what, they're dealing with here.

"Yes," Mulciber says, with a sneer. "The Mudblood bitch and the half-blood freak. Is that really the best Gryffindor come up with for prefects?"

"Is that really the best you can come up with for an insult, you slithy frumious Bandersnatch?" Lily asks. "Fifty points from Slytherin. Each. For the most repulsive display of disrespect for a fellow student I have ever seen. Even from you. And please rest assured that Professor Slughorn will be hearing about this. Now take Avery and get the hell out of here."

Behind her, she can hear Remus break the jinx on Avery. She doesn't take her eyes off Mulciber, though. "This isn't over," he hisses, as he passes her and Mary.

"Yes, it is," Lily says.

Even though she's fairly sure it's not.

Remus follows them down the hall to the corner, wand still drawn, probably to make sure they're not planning to turn around and come back. Lily turns her attention to Mary. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not hurt," Mary says, which doesn't quite answer the question.

Lily hugs her, gently. "We should go to Slughorn," she says. She looks over Mary's shoulder at Remus. "Right now."

"I – " Mary says. She didn't want anyone to, in her words, 'make a big deal out of it' last year, and Lily suspects she'd like to just pretend this didn't happen, too.

"Mary," Lily says, "we have to. They're getting worse."

After a second Mary nods. "You'll come with me?"

"Both of us," Remus says, coming back over to join them.

"Thank you," Mary says.

"Of course," Remus says.

Professor Slughorn opens his door already in his dressing gown, takes one look at the three of them, and ushers them promptly into his large and not especially office-like office, sends for tea from the kitchens, and listens as they explain what has happened.

He summons first Professor McGonagall and then Madam Pomfrey, as "Suffocation Curses are nothing to take lightly, my dear girl."

Lily sits on the couch in the corner while Madam Pomfrey and the teachers fuss over Mary. Remus comes over to sit beside her. "Are you all right?"

"Me?" Lily asks. "I'm fine. Regretting that I didn't hex something off Mulciber that he'd miss while I had the excuse, but fine otherwise."

Remus smiles, just a little, just for a second, then his expression grows sober again. "What were you doing up there, anyway?"

Lily sighs. "There's a window in that stairwell. Mary and I both go there, when we need a place to think. Or we did. I suspect it's lost its appeal. What were you doing up there?"

"Nearly Headless Nick pointed me in your direction, actually. And then as I got closer, I heard the dueling."

"I'll have to thank him. It's a very good thing you showed up when you did," Lily says.

"You're welcome." There's a second of silence, and then Remus says, in a somewhat lighter tone, "What did you call him, again?"

Lily smiles faintly. "A slithy frumious Bandersnatch."

"Not what I was expecting," Remus says. "Probably not what he was expecting, either."

"Did you think my repertoire was limited to 'arrogant toerag'?" Lily asks.

"You were holding back on James, then."

"A little, maybe," Lily says.

"That's 'Jabberwocky,' right?"

Lily nods. "Yeah. He's lucky I didn't go for Shakespeare. There are some fabulous insults in Shakespeare."

"Save it for next time," Remus suggests.

"You think there'll be a next time?"

"You know there will," Remus says.

Lily looks over at Mary. "She doesn't go anywhere alone for a while," she says. "Not till Easter, anyway. Maybe for the rest of the year."

Muggleborn, Gryffindor, and not a terribly strong duelist. Lacking prefectorial authority, and shielded by neither a friendship with Snape nor a well-known connection to James Potter. Mary is the most obvious target.

She always has been.

Remus nods. "I'll tell the others."

"Good."

Madam Pomfrey decides Mary should spend the night in the hospital wing. Lily thinks she might be better off with her friends in Gryffindor Tower, but there's no sense arguing with Madam Pomfrey. She and Remus walk down with them, leaving to Professor McGonagall's assurances that the Headmaster will be hearing about this -- and handling it -- as soon as he returns to Hogwarts.

They pass a few other students on the way, and from the reactions, Lily is willing to bet that word has started getting around.

Madam Ponfrey throws them out after about twenty minutes, claiming that Mary needs to rest, and on that, at least, she and Lily are in complete agreement. Her own anger and the adrenaline are starting to wear off, and the exhaustion is starting to sink in. And Mary was the one who was properly attacked.

James reaches the hospital wing just as she and Remus are leaving, with an expression on his face that isn't quite like any expression Lily has ever seen there before.

Not that she takes long to study the expression on his face.

She doesn't even take the time to greet him.

Right now, Lily just kind of needs her boyfriend to hold her for a moment.

It's amazing, sometimes, how little time it takes to feel like you've always been doing something.

Case in point: dating James Potter.

Related case in point: staying up all night when the moon is full, until James and the others cross back across the grounds and all is well.

And further related case in point: slipping off to the end of the universe to get a nap after staying up all night when the moon is full.

Which is why, a yawning Lily makes her way back down the stairs that lead up to the rooms above the main bar, sidesteps two waitrats, and heads over to Bar to return her room key.

Lily Evans' seventeenth birthday begins with an enormous party in the Gryffindor common room.

Of course, this party has nothing at all to do with Lily's birthday. It has, in fact, been going on for several hours when Lily's birthday begins, because Gryffidor had completely annihilated Slytherin in their Quidditch match. (Final score: 390 to 80, meaning Gryffindor would have won even if Raquel Clayworth hadn't beat Regulus Black to the Snitch, which she did, with a little help from some remarkably accurate Bludger batting by Sebastian Edeson. Word is that Regulus Black might have a broken nose. Again.)

And any Gryffindor victory requires a party, but that kind of victory, and over Slytherin requires a party. One that James is more or less stuck at the center of, as Captain and Star Chaser. Occasionally, he manages to escape his friends and fans and admirers long enough to talk to his girlfriend for a few moments, and the rest of the time, Lily is more or less gracious about having to share him with the rest of their House.

(Well, all right, so Serena Keddle might have had a little help spilling that butterbeer all down the front of her dress and fleeing in mortification, but, honestly, the whole giggle-and-hair-toss routine was annoying enough when James wasn't actually dating anyone. Now that he is ... )

It's a very nice way to begin a birthday, even though, looking at her watch at two past midnight, Lily suspects she's the only person in Gryffindor Tower who realizes it's the thirtieth already.

But of course she's wrong about that, because she's barely finished the thought when someone says, "Happy Birthday, Lily," from just behind her right shoulder, and she turns to find James there, with one of those very Jamesish smiles of his. It doesn't quite surprise her at all, not really, that he's been watching the clock all through his party for his win, so he can be the first person to wish her a happy birthday.

There's another party on Sunday, smaller and quieter and properly for Lily's birthday, with her roommates and James', after lunch (when they've all had the morning to recover from the late night before). James takes over the chairs in front of the fireplace (running off a couple of second years) and produces a cake that he no doubt talked Milty into making for him and a small box wrapped in gold paper.

"It's from all of us," James says.

"Even Sirius," Cliona puts in, cheerfully.

"Oy," Black objects, from the chair farthest from Lily's.

Lily opens the box to find a deep gold, oval-shaped locket on a long chain. There's a delicate, almost lace-like etching of links around the perimeter. It's got the same look as the hairpin she wears more days than not: simple, elegant, well-made -- James' style.

"It's a tradition," Perdita says, and Lily forces her attention from the locket to her friend. "When a witch turns seventeen, she gets a locket."

"Just like a wizard gets a watch," Peter adds.

"It's usually from your parents, but we didn't know that they would know," Glynis says.

"So James had the idea that we should do it," Remus says.

"It's beautiful," Lily says, carefully lifting it from the box. "Thank you." She's a little overwhelmed. "All of you."

"Open it," Mary says.

It takes Lily a second to find the rather cleverly hidden latch on the side. When she does, though, she finds tiny pictures of her parents looking up at her. And, small as they are, she can tell they're wizarding photographs, because the smiles shift a little, and they keep blinking.

Lily looks at James, stunned. "How on Earth did you ... ?"

"It was easy," says James with a grin. "Honestly, it didn't take much to get your parents involved; they were happy to do it. Just a quick trip out, a couple of bent rules and a prefect on our side." He exchanges a glance with Remus, who smiles innocently.

"Can't have an empty locket after all," Cliona says. "And it'll keep expanding, too," she adds, demonstrating with her own locket, which opens like an accordian, to reveal pictures of her parents, her sister, all her brothers, and her niece. "How ever many spaces you need or want, later."

"It's perfect," Lily says, slipping the chain over her head, then looking down at the locket again. "It's just perfect. Thank you."

Sirius clears his throat loudly and straightens. "Right, well. Now that that's done, can the lot of you stop acting like a bunch of girls and get on with the cake?"

Even after two months of Officially Dating, Lily and James don't eat many meals together. After all, he has his friends and she has hers, and there's such a thing as too much togetherness. But some days he joins her friends, and some days he joins hers, and some days they eat by themselves -- or at least as by themselves as they can at a table with the rest of their House.

On the morning of 6 January -- the day after the full moon -- Lily comes down to the Common Room with her roommates and finds James waiting by the portrait hole, no sign of the other Marauders. "All right?" he greets them, and then, more directly to Lily and with a very Jamesish smile, "Breakfast?"

Lily nods. "Yeah." Breakfast with James sounds good. "I'll see you later," she tells her friends, and she and James wait until they've gone on ahead.

James looks absolutely knackered. And that makes perfect sense -- unlike her, he probably hasn't slipped off to Milliways for a post-full-moon nap. But she can't quite believe she's never noticed it before, that James looks exhausted every month at the full moon, just when Remus is "ill." Is he not making as much effort to bother to conceal it from her, since she knows where he's been all night and what he's been doing? Or was she just not paying as much attention as she perhaps should have been?

Lily reaches out to take his hand, and they start for the Great Hall. "How did last night go?" she asks.

She won't -- can't -- ask more specifically than that.

But she will ask that much.

Lily has always, in some ways, been happy to go back to Hogwarts when term begins again. She misses Hogwarts, misses her friends, misses magic, misses that whole ever-more-significant piece of her life.

And, this particular break, she has also missed James.

(Speaking of ever-more-significant pieces of her life.)

So, as much as she loves her parents, as much as she enjoys being home and spending time with them, it's with a certain amount of relief that Lily steps through the barrier, two steps ahead of her father, and onto Platform 9 3/4.

She might be standing up on her toes, just a bit, trying to get a better look at the crowd of students and parents waiting next to the Hogwarts Express.

Harry's package is a small, flat, square-shaped box. Inside is a silver-colored metal Christmas ornament, in the shape of a stag. There's a card as well.

Dear Harry,

We know it's not Christmas here, but it is at home, and James and I wanted to get you something. We hope you'll like it.

Thank you again for all the help with the Patronus earlier; that class has been going much more smoothly since, and I'd probably still be something of a muddle without you.

Hope to see you soon.

Lots of love,
Lily

Below this, in a different hand, is

Happy Christmas, Harry.
– James


Albus' present is probably instantly recongnizable as a wrapped paperback book – a slightly flexible rectangle. This particular paperback is To Kill a Mockingbird, with To Albus, From Lily, Christmas, Sixth Year written across the flyleaf. There's a card as well.

Dear Albus,

I know it's not Christmas here, but it is at home, and I am taking the excuse to give you this book. It's another of Dad's many, many favorites, and one of mine, too. I hope you'll enjoy it.

I do apologize for the very Gryffindor paper, but blue and bronze would hardly seem Christmasy at all.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

Lots of love,
Lily

There's is still a part of her that wants to go to Dumbledore and tell him everything.

There's even a part of her that thinks (or maybe knows) that that is exactly what she should do.

Because what James and the others are doing is, in Lily's perhaps not entirely objective opinion, the most stupidly dangerous thing she's ever heard of anyone doing anywhere.

And no matter what James said, she's not sure it's necessary. She's quite sure that Dumbledore knows Remus is a werewolf and no doubt came up with thoroughly sufficient precautions to make sure he didn't run off and murder someone every full moon. And it seems arrogant -- maybe even toerag levels of arrogant -- to assume that a bunch of half-trained Hogwarts students are better equipped to deal with this than the Headmaster.

Werewolves may prefer to target humans, but Lily's fairly certain a wolf can rip a deer's throat out if it is so inclined.

Really, is it too much to ask that if he has to do this, James turn into some kind of carnivore?

So, yes, she ought to go to Dumbledore, tell him everything, and put a stop to all this before Peter Pettigrew comes running up to the castle some morning, shaky and pale and wide-eyed and says that Remus-the-wolf has killed James-the-stag.

In fact, the only way she talks herself out of telling Dumbledore that first night is the lateness of the hour. It's nearly midnight by the time she finishes alternately resolutely ignoring and obsessively evaluating her options here, and since it's still a week till the full moon, there's no point in disturbing everyone in the middle of the night.

Monday morning, she can almost convince herself that she dreamed the whole crazy thing. After all, Peter got a D on his Transfiguration OWL and could barely transfigure a biscuit into a bumblebee, so it's hard to believe he could turn himself into a rat.

Except that things with James are just a little ... off-kilter. It's not exactly awkward, it's certainly not uncomfortable, but there's a certain level of ... of cautiousness. Like he's paying just a little more attention to her than usual, or maybe it's just a slightly different kind of attention. More ... watchful.

She thinks that's the word she wants.

Watchful.

Neither of them mentions their talk in the Clock Tower, but that night she beats him at chess, easily and for the first time, and she wonders if it's because his mind's not entirely in the game or if it's some kind of apology in the weird non-language of boys.

It's not that she doesn't trust James, because she does. She can certainly appreciate how much he must trust her, to tell her all this. And, perhaps more significantly, to do so without extracting any kind of promise that she'll keep it all a secret, just an assumption that she will.

It's just that James can think things are eminently reasonable that are a little ... daring. Perhaps even foolhardy. She might go as far as reckless. Black's involvement doesn't help, because while James is reckless, Lily has occasionally wondered how Black managed to survive childhood. Or First Year. Or Second. Or ... well, you get the idea.

Remus, though ... Remus is someone Lily knows to be cautious and thoughtful and slightly less impulsive than his friends. He's someone Dumbledore trusts enough to give him the same shiny silver badge she has, after all. He knows far more about the situation than she does, or really than she ever could (if even less objective about it than she is). So Lily decides, somewhere around the time Monday becomes Tuesday, that if Remus is going along with this, if he's allowing it, then he must be reasonably certain of his own and his friends' safety. Even if she's frequently called his ability to influence the others at all into question, for something like this, with the stakes as high as they are, surely he'd put an end to it if it really were as dangerous as it sounds to Lily.

(Years from now, shortly before Harry is born, she and Remus will get onto this subject one afternoon, and he'll tell her about the guilt and the misgivings and the worry he ignored each month at Hogwarts. It will be the first, last, and only time Lily ever slaps him. But that's years from now.)

Besides, she has told James that she won't say anything. And she meant that. It's not her secret.

So she won't say anything about the Secret Animagi of Gryffindor Tower.

James stays watchful for another day or two, but by Friday he's back to flirting with her at lunch and beating her at chess, and on Saturday they finally make it into Hogsmeade on their first not-at-Hogwarts date. They wander in and out of shops, where Lily does some of her Christmas shopping and James insists on carrying her bags. They wind up at a crowded table with their friends at the Three Broomsticks.

It starts to feel like just one of those things about James that make him, well, James. He's a Gryffindor, and a Quidditch player, and an amazing kisser, and a bit of a showoff. He's got messy black hair, and beautiful hands, and a smile that could make gardenias bloom, and glasses that he wears because he's horribly farsighted. He's fiercely loyal, and frightfully clever, and devastatingly charming, and maybe just the tiniest bit mad. And, once a month, he turns himself into a stag, to keep his werewolf best friend company during the full moon.

But it's very hard to see that last as 'just one of those things about James' on Monday evening. If you can even really call it an 'evening.' It's nearly the Solstice and they're so far north. The day is short, the sun sets early and the full moon is waiting.

Lily sits in window in her room, with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her view is mostly of the lake, though she can see one small part of the Grounds that she'd expect people to pass through on their way to the Whomping Willow. She's been sitting and watching for maybe half an hour when she finally sees three figures, wrapped in cloaks and moving quickly, headed away from the castle.

After that, she discovers that she had no business using the word 'finally' after only half an hour.

She manages to at least hold her Charms book to make it look like she's revising, while her roommates are still awake. "The moon's full, there's plenty of light, I'm be fine," she tells Glynis, when Glynis asks if she wants a candle. "I won't be up much longer," Lily adds. "I just want to finish this chapter." Glynis looks at her for a second and then nods.

After they've fallen asleep, Lily gives up the pretense of the book and just sits in the window, wrapped in one of the blankets from her bed. She watches the moon make its way across the sky and watches its reflection make its way across the lake. It's a very clear, very still night.

And it's long. It's very, very long.

Finally (and this time, she thinks the word is earned), the moon sinks out of view and the eastern edge of the sky begins to grow lighter.

Some time after that, four figures make their way across that same bit of the Grounds, moving more slowly than the group that left.

Lily sighs, and slides down out of the window.

Her roommates will start to wake up soon.

Lily throws the covers back on her bed (so that it won't be completely obvious she hasn't slept at all, or even tried to) and then very, very quietly opens her trunk, lifts the trap door, and climbs down to the door to Milliways.

With any luck, she can get enough of a nap to make it through her classes today.