**Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.

**Rated M for: Graphic depictions of sex; language; some violence and mentions of drug use.

Foreword to the FFnet edition:

Yes, this is the same story that was found on Checkmated and it is complete here. That's really the main thing. I loved posting over there, but Checkmated has gone away for good, it looks like. I had to move it if I was going to post the final two chapters.

Writing this story was largely a labor of love, however it frequently vexed me. And I am aware of how long it took me to finish the damned thing. Part of that is that my natural writing speed equates to a sloth driving a Zamboni through a traffic jam, and part of that was simply that this project ended up being much more involved and difficult than I ever dreamed. For those that do not know, I have been writing/posting this story since 2007!

So why did I even start? Well the real answer is that I love Marauder era fan fiction, but I was always restlessly searching for the story that would hit all the bases and talk about all the things I found interesting. Like so many readers, I eventually realized that the only way I was going to get everything I wanted in a Lily/James story would be to write it myself.

So why did I even finish? Not gonna lie, a sane person would have abandoned this thing years ago. But I'm crazy-anal girl and I would never be able to go on with my life knowing I started posting a story on the internet that I did not complete. So here it is.

It is not perfect and there are a number of things I didn't execute the way I would have liked. I am also aware that things I did on purpose rubbed some people the wrong way. This story is not without controversy. More or less, this is my vision of the Marauders and their contemporaries; it may not be yours. I can only tell you that every decision I made was done with purpose, and with any luck that purpose became apparent as the story unfolded. That said, I am largely happy with how this thing turned out, and I learned more while writing it than any other project I have undertaken.

I thank my long-term readers for their years of support and for following me from Checkmated here. For those discovering the story for the first time, congratulations! You get to read the story without having to wait a year and half between updates (I exaggerate! But not, you know, by a lot). I hope you enjoy the story you are about to read.

Chapter 01: The Chocolate Frog Exchange

The Hogwarts Express barreled along its track, the people inside swaying ever so slightly with the motion. The compartments were full of raucous students on their way to school, for now without parent or teacher supervision. Lily Evans was weaving at top speed through the flailing bodies, trying to reach the front of the train. As the newly appointed Head Girl, she had to address the prefects. Unfortunately, she had woken up extremely late and had only just arrived to the platform before the train began to move. After searching for the compartment housing her friends and stowing her luggage, she had begun her journey to the meeting she was supposed to lead with her new partner.

Her arms were full. Starving as she was from having skipped breakfast in the rush to King's Cross, she had gone a bit mad at the sight of the trolley loaded with sweets. She would have loved nothing more than to settle on the carpet and eat her nine Licorice Wands, four Chocolate Frogs, three Pumpkin Pasties, and package of Cauldron Cakes (she figured anything she didn't pack away now could be stashed beside her bed for late-night snacking). But there wasn't time for that, or even time to dump them with her belongings and friends in their compartment.

Darting past a group of second years playing Exploding Snap, she winged her knee on the corner of a doorway.

"Oww, aah, blo—" she remembered the children just in time to stop herself, and opened her eyes to see them staring at her. Head Girl, Lily, you're Head Girl. "—blast," she finished lamely.

One of the boys looked as though he was going to laugh at her, perhaps even correct her profanity, and Lily took off. The last thing she needed this morning was to be mocked by a twelve year old, and if he did curse, she would have to mete out punishment. She didn't have time for that.

She hoped whomever the new Head Boy was he'd gotten the meeting underway without her. It was probably that Hufflepuff creep Rory Pye; she'd heard something about him being the top contender. That would make for a miserable year. She wasn't overly fond of Pye. Somewhere between his incessant brown-nosing and his dumping of her friend Pilar, he'd put her off.

She was approaching the compartment now, relief sweeping through her. It had been a long morning, and she was more than ready for it to end. She supposed Pye wouldn't be too horrible. Balancing her armload carefully, she opened the compartment door.

Leaning against the far window, two rows of prefects seated in benches on either side of him, was James Potter. A polished Head Boy badge gleamed from where it was pinned to his robes.

Sweet Merlin…. No—just…no.

He was speaking to a group of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff prefects, but looked up when she walked in. His eyes went a little wide and then settled, a smile splitting his face.

Lily swallowed her discomfort, aware that it wasn't just Potter staring but the whole compartment. Not only was she a good ten minutes late and holding a Galleon worth of sweets, but she was also the only one there to have not yet changed into her robes.

Potter was advancing on her. "Excellent, Evans. That's Head Girl thinking—bringing refreshments." With that, he snatched up a Chocolate Frog and ripped open the package.

Lily made a grab for her stolen sweet, losing her grip on the other items in her arms. She quickly changed purposes, trying desperately to keep her meal from falling. Unfortunately, all that glossy wrapping worked against her and, in the span of a moment, it lay at her feet. A Licorice Wand caught awkwardly between two fingers was her only save.

She spared a moment to blink at the pile, then glared up at the cause.

Potter had bitten the head off his Chocolate Frog. "What?" he asked, his mouth a little full.

"That wasn't for you."

"It wasn't?"

"No, you great prat, it wasn't."

He swallowed the bite down. "Was there someone specifically you had in mind?"

Lily opened her mouth, fit to snarl that this was her breakfast. But she abruptly realized how much she'd bought while shopping hungry. She suddenly felt shy at the idea of admitting to all these people that she'd intended to eat it all on her own and in front of them.

Her body sagged. "Never mind. As long as everyone gets something, it doesn't matter." She collapsed into an empty seat on the bench to her left as students from both sides got up to claim their treat. She raked her hands through her hair and sighed. Looking up, she froze.

Across from her sat Severus Snape, moving in and out of her line of sight as people shuffled in front of her while grabbing and squabbling for their favorite sweet. A copy of An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms was occupying his full attention as he sat placidly unfazed and disinterested by the chaos in the car. It was silly that she should be startled to see him—she had known he would be at this meeting, but there was something about Severus that seemed to jump out at her even when she was looking directly at him.

"You're bleeding," she registered a voice saying.

She pulled her eyes from Severus to see Remus Lupin gesturing to her right knee, which was indeed bleeding.

"Oh." She sat forward, examining her small injury. Funny that she hadn't noticed the small pulsing sting or the sticky wet trickle down her leg.

He looked at it with her, frowning thoughtfully. "Nothing a little Meliorative Charm won't take care of."

"I know that charm!" Lily recognized Potter's gratingly eager voice.

"Thank you, Remus," she said pointedly.

As Remus cast the spell, she looked up, catching Severus staring at her now. Her breath hitched, but he didn't spare her another moment, not meeting eyes with her and returning immediately to his book.

Her nerves took a second hit, jumping beneath her skin when Potter sat next to her.

"I hope you don't mind, but I already gave out assignments and arranged the next meeting."

Lily raised her eyebrows, skeptical. He'd been responsible? Somehow she doubted it. "Were the assignments fair?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean will I find that the Slytherins have double shifts on Friday night?"

He was taken aback, but only for a brief second. Then he grinned. "Perhaps, but only until the next patrols are assigned. Then you can give them all cushy early evening rounds."

"Why James Potter, that sounds a lot like you dumping the entire patrol rounds schedule in my lap."

"Isn't that what you did to me this morning?"

"What I did this morning was sleep past my alarm and have my breakfast stolen," Lily said coldly.

His eyes widened in alarm and irascibility. "Who stole your breakfast?" For all the world, he sounded like he might go charging after the offender. The irony of it made her laugh.

"You did."

"I did?"

She looked meaningfully at the scattered pile of sweets on the floor.

His face displayed different stages of comprehension plainly. Lily enjoyed the discomfiture and shame—until they melted into a taunting smile. "You were going to eat all that yourself?"

Lily knew enough about herself to realize she'd bought as much as she had only in a fit of impulsive hunger. She would have eaten maybe half of it before finding herself too full to take another bite. But, for some reason, it seemed unacceptable to show Potter any sign that she was less than certain or controlled in any aspect of her life.

"Yes, and now I have a Licorice Wand—" she held up the wrapped stick of sugar in her hand, "and—" she craned her neck down at the floor where a few stray sweets had been dumped, "a Pumpkin Pasty, another Licorice Wand, and, oh look, a half-eaten Chocolate Frog—the part of my breakfast I was most looking forward to."

Potter was laughing at her. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I realized how rude it would be to eat in front of everyone."

"Silly Evans, they're just prefects."

He smiled in a way that made time seem to hiccup, and it abruptly dawned on Lily that the conversation had taken a turn she didn't like. He was too comfortable: his hand frequently tousling his untidy hair in gesture he seemed to think was flirtatious, and his arm was creeping behind her on the crest of her seat. She wasn't as annoyed as she should be, as she had been moments ago, her tone having lost much of its bite. And, she saw as she looked around, that save for a group of three prefects who hadn't wandered off with the presumption that they had been dismissed in the opposite corner of the train compartment, the two of them were very much alone.

There was a clenching in her belly at that thought. Her pulse raced as she saw he was looking, in that surreptitiously-obvious way boys had, at her chest. Color rose on Lily's throat.

Quickly and without warning, she stood up to leave. "Well, that was a fine meeting. Thank you for taking care of the agenda."

Stooping, she picked up the Pumpkin Pasty and the Licorice Wand from the carpet. Then, with a barely visible wave, she bolted from the compartment so quickly she was lucky not to have injured herself a second time.

Severus Snape pushed through the crowded train with little patience or consideration. His teeth were gritting dangerously. Dumbledore had made that ingrate, that degenerate ingot-brain, Head Boy. The bastard hadn't even served as prefect. The injustice of it had his lips curling into a snarl that caused many a lowerclassman to leap out of his way.

Behind him he could hear the two fifth-year Slytherin prefects, Regulus Black and Jillian Pucey, following in his cleared path. That didn't bother him, but his spine stiffened as Jillian's words pierced his haze of rage.

"…Mudblood twat bringing sweets to her first meeting—trying to weasel her way into the good graces of decent stock, no doubt. As though we'd touch anything her filthy hands grimed over. Merlin, she's revolting."

Severus fought the urge to whirl about and whap the girl across the face with his heavy book. Jill was trouble, but more than that, she was irritating. Severus had often fantasized about spiking her morning pumpkin juice with something interesting, like a Tooth Dissolving Draught.

Reaching his compartment, he opened the door with more force than was necessary. As he entered, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning his head he snapped, "Yes?"

Regulus had a hesitant but eager smile on his face. "I'm going with Jill to—ah—you know."

Yes, Severus did know, and he was appreciative they were taking their snog-fest elsewhere. Regulus seemed to be waiting for his permission to leave, which only served to provoke Severus further. With antipathy, he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Regulus nonplused on the other side of the glass. Evan Rosier and Rabastan Lestrange looked up from their respective distractions as he entered.

"Your time of the month, is it Snape?" Lestrange drawled dispassionately, going back to drawing on his arm with blue ink in boredom.

"Potter," he gnashed, "is Head Boy."

Lestrange's eyes flashed up again, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "Perverse."

"Does it matter?" Rosier posed from behind his comic book. "You didn't actually want the position did you?"

Severus would never admit to these apes his brand of hair pomade, much less the fact that he had indeed been hoping to be chosen to fill the highest-ranking office held by a student. "Of course not…but I'm going to have to take orders from that boorish nit for an entire year."

Rosier shrugged, not caring, and continued with his reading.

"Still no reason to snap at the little one," Lestrange said.

'Little one' was a pet name for Regulus, which had been coined by his cousin Bellatrix. No one was sure precisely what she'd meant by it, but it had stuck. Severus never used it.

Lestrange's lips twisted with his own humor. "If you make him cry, he may not share his allowance with you."

Severus opened his book, refusing to rise at either of the two digs in that last comment. The crack about his poverty was an old one, his association with the youngest Black, however, was fairly recent. He had taken Regulus under his wing, much to the consternation of the other two young men in the compartment, and they liked to prod and push him about it. In truth, Severus rather regularly had no idea where Regulus was or what he was doing. He might pay more attention to his charge if he actually cared, of course. As it was, he was keeping an eye on the younger boy under his new master's orders. That it annoyed Sirius Black was just an added incentive.

He tried to focus on his book, but his arm was throbbing insistently. The pain was an inexorable reminder of the newly branded Dark Mark lurking beneath a tight bandage under his left sleeve. Lucius Malfoy had assured him that after a week the soreness would fade and the Mark with it. After that, it would only glow black and sting when the Dark Lord called. This was necessary for Death Eaters to maintain secrecy in public situations, though Lucius had warned Severus that at times when the Dark Lord felt particularly strong surges of growing power the Mark would show up, and one had to be on guard for it. His initiation had taken place less than thirty-six hours ago and he was not looking forward to the ensuing week. He had some painkiller he'd brewed in his bag, but he refused to drink it in front of Lestrange and Rosier.

Frustration spiked in his throat and he felt a short-lived, but certainly violent, urge to slam his book shut and hurl it against the compartment wall. This was foolish, the most unforgivably idiotic thing he'd ever done. He may be relatively safe within the confines of Hogwarts walls, but there was a war going on outside, waiting for him. And he'd gone and signed himself up to battle on the front lines. No cause was worth that, he told himself. And yet…he'd done it.

And now—and now, on top of all that, Potter had been named Head Boy. Dumbledore couldn't simply be an icon of the crossfire amid which Severus stood, he had to promote that profane glowworm as well. Quidditch god and pseudo-hero amongst his clan of half-wits was no longer enough, Potter had to tread on toes for the position Severus had worked toward for six years. Undeserved, unfair didn't begin to convey it.

And then there was Lily. The way she had looked at Potter…the way she had flushed and flirted as though she were flattered, as though she were interested. Of course, Severus allowed, he could be delusional. That was what Lily had always insisted when he had previously voiced the niggling feeling that there was something between her and Potter. Perhaps she was telling the truth, and Severus was simply so paranoid and fixated on his worst fear that he created evidence where there was none. But over the years the feeling had only grown more distinct and more frequent. She giggled when Potter bantered with her for Merlin's sake.

There was little Severus could do about it even if it were true. Lily had put him from her one long year and three months ago, and he had never quite been able to wheedle his way back into her good graces. Sometimes, like at the meeting, he would sense her gazing at him with such longing that it warmed him. She missed him, he knew that, but it never led to reconciliation. He sent her notes and she would meet him for potion brewing sessions when it suited her or when Slughorn required it. He gave her presents and went out of his way to do kind things for those she cared about—even for Petunia. None of it made the slightest dent in her resolve. It was shameful and demeaning, but he could not seem to stop.

He wasn't sentimental cretin enough to imagine himself in love, but there was no denying that in her presence, his stresses and frenzies would quit their screaming and he could hear himself think again. This would make her company valuable about now.

Severus inwardly sneered at his game. He knew what he was doing—rationalizing. True, it was imperative he regain control of his emotions. If he could not, his Occlumency would become unreliable and he'd surely find himself caught. But he didn't need her to accomplish that. She would speed the process, facilitate it, but was hardly necessary to it. She also carried risk with her, pointless risk. Lily had no notion of the Mark he'd taken, and he no intention of showing her. She would never forgive him, something he'd known even before taking his vows. That thought fostered desperation to reel her back in before she was out of reach, but he also knew it was too late for that. His initiation, his branding marked the finalization of a choice of something else over her—a choice he could not recant.

Still, he hadn't expected the thunderclap of yearning that would shake him at the first sight of her in weeks. A little of her company went a long way and he needed only to regain his feet.

He tore a corner from the scrap parchment he used for study notes, and scribbled a message with his quill before crumpling and depositing it in his cloak pocket.

Yes, Severus knew he was still rationalizing—lying to himself even. Pity it didn't make much difference.

Lily's skin had only just returned to its natural color when she reached the compartment holding her friends. In a nervous rush, she'd eaten both Licorice Wands and the Pumpkin Pasty on her way there.

Pilar Garza occupied an entire side of the compartment, lying down on the seat reading a magazine. Melody McGonagall sat by the window, upon which she'd been breathing and drawing pictures in the fog with her fingers.

"Well," Lily announced, "Dumbledore's obviously been hitting the absinthe."

"You're sure this time?" Melody asked, nudging Pilar's feet out of the way so that she could put up her own.

"Absolutely." She took a deep breath. "Potter is Head Boy."

Pilar set down her magazine. "Really?"

"Either that or he stole the badge."

Pilar opened her mouth to speak, paused, and then seemed to consider the scenario. "That would be quite the lark, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, would you two stop," Melody said impatiently. "He's not as bad as all that."

Lily sat heavily, rubbing her eyes. "He's not as good, either. We are talking Head Boy."

Pilar sat up, pulling some Drooble's from her bag while she looked at Melody incisively. "And you don't have room to lecture, bearing in mind the fight you picked with Maggie Bagnold earlier."

Melody spread her palms. "I can't help it. There's something in that bitch's voice that's like a dog whistle, and I'm only one who can hear it. Every time she opens her mouth I want to break something. I can't figure what Black sees in her. How anyone could stand to be around her for more than a few minutes is beyond me."

"I expect it's different when she's giving you head whenever you want it," Pilar said, something in the lift of her brow saying the answer had been obvious.

Lily couldn't help but take a different position altogether. "I'd be more inclined to ask what she sees in Black."

"Great looks, charm," Pilar said disinterestedly. "Money."

"Isn't he disinherited now?" Melody asked.

"He's still a Black," Pilar said, "and even poor Blacks aren't poor."

"Why are we talking about this?" Lily reclined and closing her eyes.

"I was proving a point," Pilar replied. "I don't mind Maggie."

Melody made a rude noise.

Lily was becoming frustrated. "Can we focus, please? Potter is Head Boy. How the hell did that happen? He's terrorized more first years than anyone in school."

"And we're not considering his exemplary behavior last year as an explanation?" Melody handled the change of topic easily.

"Most Head Boys need six years of exemplary behavior to get that badge. What makes Potter so goddamn special?"

"His hair, obviously."

Ignoring Melody, Pilar asked, "You don't think money had anything to do with it, do you?"

Lily lifted her shoulders in a shadow of a shrug, still not opening her eyes. "The thought has crossed my mind. It wouldn't be the first time his daddy pulled some strings."

Melody snorted. "Of course, because Dumbledore is the sort of man who accepts bribes." She folded her arms crossly. "You're just miffed because Potter got it instead of Snape."

The effect that this statement had on Lily was fierce and instantaneous. She sat up, her eyes flashing. "That is not true."

"If you insist," Melody goaded. "But don't deny that you wouldn't rather be working with him all year than with Potter."

Lily sighed. "I concede." She swallowed, a hollow feeling in her stomach. "Can we not talk about him now?" she pleaded. "Or ever again?"

"Of course," Pilar said gently, shooting a look of warning at Melody.

"I'm going to change into my robes," Lily announced, rising. Thinking of Severus always made her feel like she'd been kicked in the chest.

When she returned, she was relieved to see that her friends had taken her hints and were no longer bringing up either Potter or Severus. The rest of the journey passed pleasantly and uneventfully. They emptied the train and climbed the rise to the lantern-lit road.

Lily had never much cared for the thestral drawn carriages. Perhaps it was just the Muggle in her showing, but it bothered her that she couldn't see what was pulling her along. She climbed into one with Melody, Pilar, and Hestia Jones.

A few carriages ahead, she saw the back of Black's head as he settled in with his on-again, off-again squeeze, Maggie Bagnold. Across from them, James Potter was climbing up, pulling his girlfriend behind him. He had been seeing her for almost a year now, and it still struck Lily as odd. Alida Ackerley was a timid creature—timid and bland. She had pale eyes with white-blonde hair, a petite figure, and porcelain skin. All in all, a wash and between her demeanor and her shyness, she blended into the background.

The carriages had started to move before it occurred to Lily that she was staring, and not at the girl. Her eyes had wandered to Potter, and he was now staring straight back at her. She looked away quickly, blood rising in her cheeks. She'd already made enough of a fool of herself today where he was concerned. Launching herself into conversation with the other girls around her, she chatted determinedly all the way up to the castle.

Dismounting the carriage upon arrival, she stumbled, almost falling. An arm reached out to catch her before she could lose her balance. She steadied herself, and then looked up to see Severus Snape holding her elbow.

"Thank you," Lily said softly as he quickly disentangled himself.

"Not at all," he dismissed coldly, scarcely sparing her a glance as he moved on.

Lily stared after him, not quite able to quash her hurt feelings. She shook herself and squared her shoulders, heading first for the Great Hall, then for the Gryffindor table. Seating herself on one side of Pilar, she was only half-listening to what her friends were on about.

When the Sorting began, she watched with the same disinterest. She was fighting the temptation to sneak a glance at the Slytherin table when she felt something heavy and warm sidle up beside her. She froze, still facing the staff table and Flume, Damon, who had just become a Ravenclaw.

"Evans." She felt his breath on the back of her ear, and the heat of it shot down her body. Damn it all.

"What?" she whispered crossly out of the corner of her mouth, not turning to look at him.

"I got you something."

From behind her, Potter slid a package along the table, past her elbow and into her line of sight. It was a Chocolate Frog. He leaned forward, dangerously close to her neck, and said, "Enjoy your breakfast."

She didn't know if it was the tickle of his breathing or the timbre of his voice that made her shiver. Lily could swear she felt his face lightly brush against her hair before he returned to his own seat. When she was certain he was gone, she released the uneven breath she'd been holding. Her eyes didn't waver from the Sorting as she tried to pretend she was thinking about anything but what she was thinking about: the Chocolate Frog next to her hand and the boy who had given it to her. Her skin tingled and pricked just from being near it.

Staring ahead of her, desperately trying to get her mind to catch upon anything else, she saw Melody and Pilar whispering to each other. But they weren't glancing her way, so she knew they hadn't noticed Potter's little visit. Once the feast started and they saw the Chocolate Frog, however, the questions would start. Deciding to scratch two itches in one go, she seized the sweet off the table and crammed it into her pocket. As her hand reached inside she was surprised to feel a scrap of parchment tickling her fingers.

Her hand hung suspended in her robes a moment. Glancing about to see if anyone was looking, Lily furtively pulled the slip from her pocket and read it beneath the table. It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. The handwriting was as familiar to her as her own.

It read: Dungeon 3, Midnight.