September fourth, 1971

Saturday dawned bright and crisp over Hogwarts castle. Lily Evans – having woken in the early hours of the morning and then found herself unable to fall back to sleep – lay in her four poster bed, transcribing a letter to her elder sister, Petunia. Her failed attempts lay crumpled around her.

She had left her sister on such bad terms, and her heart ached to right that wrong. Surely Petunia hadn't meant what she'd said when she called her a freak.

No. They were sisters. They loved each other. They always had.

Harriet Watson, the only other girl in the dormitory awake at such an hour, plopped unceremoniously onto the bed, causing some crumpled-up letters to fall to the floor.

"What 'cha doing?" she asked with a bright smile, towelling her hair – the shade of which almost put Lily's to shame.

"Writing to my sister," Lily replied, glancing up at the other redhead. Harriet grinned.

"How old is she? I bet she can't wait to come here."

Lily shook her head sadly. "She's older than me. She's a Muggle."

Harriet's bright smile turned immediately to a grimace. "Sorry, I didn't mean to – I just assumed."

"It's okay," Lily assured, smiling in a way that she hoped didn't appear forced. "She did want to come here. She even wrote a letter begging Dumbledore, but …"

"She's not a witch," Harriet supplied, mouth quirking this time into a sympathetic smile. "You know, my mum and dad fell in love with each other before she found out he was a wizard. She took it so well, it was amazing. Or maybe dad just puts a sappy spin on it."

Lily laughed despite herself, steadying her ink pot to stop it from spilling over the sheets.

"The point is, you accept things like that, even if they're crazy, for the people you love. And I'm sure your sister loves you."

Lily nodded, a smile she was sure wasn't forced creeping across her face. "So am I. Thanks, Harriet."

"Anytime," the other girl promised, before vacating Lily's bed and asking loudly, "Who are the purebloods around here? Oi, Alice! What is there to do in this bloody castle?"

"How should I know?" she grumbled, tugging the duvet further over her head in an attempt to hide from Harriet, but to no avail.

Lily finished her letter with a Love you, and left to get ready for the day.

She carried the letter in the pocket of her robes, intending to go to the Owlery after breakfast to deliver it, but was saved the trouble when she received a letter from her parents.

In the letter, her mother marvelled at the fact that a school owl had appeared at the very moment she had begun to wonder how they would send the letter to Lily. Her father asked if she'd made any friends and how she was settling in. There was nothing from Petunia, but Lily resolved not to worry about that for the time being. She borrowed a quill from a third year across the table and added a postscript to her letter to Petunia, asking her to tell their parents that she'd only just received their letter and would write back as soon as she could. Then, she attached the roll of parchment to the owl's leg, allowed him to take a sip of her pumpkin juice, and sent him on his way.

After breakfast, the girls from her dormitory offered that she accompany them on an exploratory walk around the castle grounds. She declined, spotting Severus sitting at the Slytherin table. It was the furthest away from where she sat, but she stood, held her head high and made the walk across the Great Hall.

She felt the eyes of the Slytherins on her, but she ignored them, only stopping when she reached the bench where Severus sat, with other first years she vaguely remembered from the sorting and Potions class. She smiled in greeting.

"Good morning, Severus."

"Good morning, Lily," he returned her smile.

"Who might your friends be?" she asked politely.

"I'm Avery," said one of the boys. "This is Mulciber. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lily kept her smile in place. "And you. I'm Evans. Lily Evans. Sev, do you want to take a walk?"

He finished the last of his toast and accompanied her from the Great Hall. Lily wrapped her new Gryffindor scarf around her neck as they headed for the courtyard. She told him about the letter she'd received from her parents, the one she'd sent to Petunia, and her worry that her sister would not reply.

Severus walked with his hands in the pockets of his robes, his face half-covered by the Slytherin scarf he wore. She could still hear him scoff through it, however. "At least you got a letter."

Lily clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Maybe you could try writing to them?"

He shook his head. "Don't be silly; it'd just be a waste of time."

They lapsed into silence after that, bundling themselves up in their robes on the uncommonly chilly September day. She asked Severus to tell her about Slytherin house, but his only answer was noncommittal.

"I heard that the common room is under the lake," she informed him, as they gave up on the weather and set back toward the castle. "Is that true?"

He nodded, seeming to realise that his mood was affecting their conversation. "It makes everything green – don't laugh – and gloomy. It's pretty cool, though."

"When I lean out the window in my dormitory, it feels like I can see everything," she returned, smiling. "Well, not, everything. But all of the grounds."

He chuckled, and she shoved him. The silence between them became more comfortable.

"Sev?" asked Lily eventually, glancing over at him.

"Yeah?" he met her gaze. In the weak sunlight, his eyes could almost be dark brown.

"We can still … be friends, right? It's just, there doesn't seem to be many – any, really – Gryffindors who are friends with Slytherins."

Severus held his head high, exposing his sallow face to the cold breeze. "We'll change that. I promise."

Lily smiled.

At dinner that evening, Harriet gushed about her 'adventures' around the castle.

"The caretaker looked like he was about to kill us!" she exclaimed through laughter. John – who had also been present – rolled his eyes at his twin's dramatized version of the tale.

"He just asked us to leave the corridor."

"He did look pretty mad, though," Alice granted.

On Sunday, Lily curled up on a hard-won seat by the window of the common room and did her homework, occasionally kept company by her fellow first years. She watched as Remus Lupin crossed and exited the common room that evening, frowning to herself.

She shrugged. Curfew wasn't for another half hour. Maybe he wanted to take some air.

"Evans, right?"

She glanced away from the portrait hole to find the Black boy – Sirius, she thought his name was – sitting across from her. She raised an eyebrow. "Yes. What do you want?"

Sirius raised one shoulder in a shrug. "It's a nice spot you've got here. Mind if I sit?"

"You already are," she pointed out, dipping her quill into the ink well beside her elbow.

Sirius nodded his head in a 'fair enough' gesture. "Mind if I continue to sit?"

"As long as you don't bother me."

He didn't, and he remained there, merely gazing out of the window, until James Potter yelled, "Oi, Black!" from across the room. Sirius smiled almost apologetically, and vacated the seat.

Lily didn't give any more thought to the first year boys, until the next morning, when Remus Lupin was absent from classes.

"Do you know if he's ill?" she murmured to Harriet, during their first class – Potions. The other girl shook her head.

"John said he did look a bit poorly, though. Maybe—"

She shut her mouth abruptly as Slughorn passed. He offered encouragement to Lily's potion. She smiled, brightening, and forgot all about Remus.

The other classes passed without incident, until their final one: Transfiguration. They had graduated from the note-taking of the past two classes to attempting to turn a matchstick into a needle. Lily, after a great deal of concentration, succeeded in the task, only to find that she was not the first to do so.

James Potter had apparently transfigured his matchstick with very little effort at all, declared the exercise boring, and proceeded to take Sirius Black's matchstick, light it aflame ("That's what you're supposed to do with matches anyway, Professor. Muggles do it all the time.") and caused it to zoom about the classroom, scattering frightened first years. Harriet immediately used her book to shield her head. Alice ducked under her desk. Lily could only watch in horror as Professor McGonagall directed her wand toward the object and caused it to fall to the ground, snuffing out the flame as it did so.

Silence descended upon the classroom.

"Detention," said McGonagall eventually, her lips almost disappearing in the thin line she pursed them into.

"Professor—" Sirius attempted to protest.

"For all first year Gryffindors."

"What?" Harriet exclaimed immediately. A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration landed on her table with a thud, splintering her matchstick.

"We didn't do anything!" Mary Macdonald added, pointing a finger at James and Sirius. "It was them!"

McGonagall passed her eyes over the Gryffindors, who were all sitting relatively close together. The Hufflepuffs were silent.

"Wait behind after class. I shall explain."

Stumped, the first years' protests died down. There was not long to wait until the bell rang, the time easily filled by Greg Lestrade from Hufflepuff collecting the matchsticks (or needles, in Lily and James's cases).

After the other houses had left, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "While Mr Potter did display a remarkable level of magic for his age—" James accepted Sirius's offered hand in a high five "—his way of showing it was unacceptable. Since, Potter, you strike me as the type of person who would not listen to a reprimand directed only to you, you will all serve detention on Friday evening."

"This is all your fault, Potter," Harriet muttered darkly, glaring at him.

"What about Lupin, Professor?" asked Frank Longbottom.

"I see no reason why he shouldn't serve with you, as long as he is back to health," said McGonagall, ignoring the groans of protest from the students. "Consider it a kindness that I am not deducting any house points. Report to me after dinner on Friday. You are dismissed."

With a slight sense of gloom hanging over them, the ten Gryffindors shuffled over to the Great Hall for dinner. James and Sirius appeared pleased with themselves, chatting animatedly among themselves. They even attracted the awe of the shy Peter Pettigrew. Lily rolled her eyes, focusing on her stew. Remus Lupin had still not appeared. She wondered vaguely if she should write him a note, or a 'Get Well Soon' card. Or a 'Sorry I got You in Detention' card, and make James sign it.

In the end, she opted to strike up a conversation with him when he returned to the common room.

He had clearly been unwell. His skin was pale; his face haggard. He seemed a little surprised when Lily called him over to where she sat, but he came anyway, sitting in the chair that had been occupied by Sirius the previous evening.

"Are you okay?" she asked, setting aside her quill. "John said you were ill."

Remus nodded. "I had the flu."

Lily opened her mouth to chide him for wandering around without a jacket, but shut it again and opted to cluck her tongue sympathetically. "Well, you can have my notes from today, if you want. We had practicals for Potions and Transfiguration – which reminds me. James Potter got us all in detention on Friday, even you. I'm sorry."

He merely gave a one-shouldered shrug. He seemed too tired to complain, or even hold a proper conversation. Lily's heart went out to him.

She set aside her homework and started a letter to her parents. Remus leaned back against the chair, looking as if he might fall asleep. It came as a surprise to her, then, when he asked softly, "Who are you writing to?"

"My parents," she replied with a smile, once the alarm had dissipated. "They're muggles. You said your mother is one, didn't you?"

He nodded, smiling. "My father saved her from a boggart."

"A what?" Lily frowned.

"Boggart," Remus repeated. "It takes the shape of whatever your fear the most."

Lily felt an involuntary shudder roll over her shoulders. "That sounds terrible. What do you think yours would be?"

"I don't know," he replied, but he sounded as if he did.

"Mine would probably be something daft," said Lily, in an attempt to rid the boy across from her from the faraway look in his eyes. "Like a duck."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "You're afraid of ducks?"

"No," Lily replied, and, realising that her tone of voice had suggested that was obvious, added, "but I've never seen one up close, so I could be."

"I quite like ducks," Remus divulged. "Though they can be persistent if they know you've got food."

Suddenly unsure how their conversation had turned to the subject of waterfowl, Lily shook her head. "I should probably go to bed. Goodnight, Remus. I hope you feel better soon."

He smiled faintly. "Thank you, Lily."

I think there'll be one more chapter of first year before I move on. We'll see how it pans out.