Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR

AN: A few people have asked now about how this story is likely to continue, so here's the current plan: I intend to have a snapshot chapter for each few years up to sixth, not being particularly plot related but just a short story in itself, then for sixth and seventh years there'll be more of a story arc and more chapters. I think. For now. Yeah, places will be a bit hazy, but I have full faith they you, my lovely readers, will be able to handle that.

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Fourth Year

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It had been decided within the Hogwarts staff room that the Marauders were individual personifications of the word 'fiasco'. They broke things, they humiliated people, they took perfectly respectable occasions and transfigured them into disastrous free-for-alls where students whooped in delight and teachers developed bone deep fatigue attempting to restore order. However, for all their adverse effects, they were without a doubt the most popular people in the school.

And this popularity was the thing that amazed Professor McGonagall more than even the shamelessness of their brazen daring. They weren't popular in the usual way of children, where they were 'cool' and attractive but secretly resented by everyone for the arrogance and rudeness they held themselves with. No, the Marauders were actually genuinely liked. It astounded her at times, but these four boys were adored by their peers, and though they certainly played on that fact, they never seemed to consider themselves above anyone that the Slytherins.

They were certainly unique, she thought, watching James Potter score yet another goal for Gryffindor and the explosion of cheers that followed from three quarters of the school. The times outside the school were changing dramatically, political tensions fraying generations of alliance, and it had began to show over the past few terms even in the Hogwarts student body. Houses were distancing themselves so gradually you might not even notice it, but there was one group that without fail would bring the majority back together, and they were the Marauders. Admittedly, their current antics drove the Slytherins away further, but that was an inevitability with views leaning the way they were, and at times she couldn't be more grateful to Sirius Black and James Potter for the smiles they put on the faces of children worrying over problems so much bigger than they could fully understand.

She clapped gleefully and grinned at the glum faced Professor Slughorn as the Slytherin keeper took another of Black's bludgers to the gut and Potter scored ten more points. It was the last game of the autumn term and she could just imagine the party that would be held in the Gryffindor tower that night.

-

And what a party it was.

Streamers, balloons, Filibuster's fireworks, butterbeer and Honeydukes chocolate. Children giggled and whooped, dancing to some loud concoction of heavy bass and melodious guitar while the two Gryffindor prefects danced on a table with their ties round their heads. Black and Potter were head banging to music that didn't quite fit, sporting a Gryffindor flag each and singing at the top of their lungs while Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew cracked open another crate of butterbeers. Even Lily Evans was laughing happily with a gaggle or girls near the stairs.

Standing unnoticed by the portrait hole Professor McGonagall admitted some regret at having to break it all up.

"Frank Longbottom! Elsa May! Get off that table right this instant and set an example!"

The prefects froze and a seventh year sensibly turned off the music. Gryffindor house stilled and looked warily at their Professor in her tartan dressing gown.

She straightened up, "You all know the rules and as happy as I am that we won, you have not yet got the cup and you all have lessons in the morning. I want to see Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew in my office at lunchtime tomorrow and Mr Longbottom and Miss May will spend tomorrow evening supervising the cleaning up on the common room; I'll ensure you receive no help from the house elves!"

She paused for effect, looking sternly around the room full of appalled faces.

"I expect all of you to be in bed in five minutes and if I hear so much as a peep for the rest of the night there will be detentions."

There was a brief stunned silence followed by horrified mutters and reluctant shuffled towards the stairs.

"And Chris?" she called out to the quidditch captain, he looked up uncertainly, "That was an excellent game, thirty points to Gryffindor for such an brilliant display of teamwork."

And with that she exited, swinging shut the portrait hole on the sounds of scattered laughter and applause.

-

Fifth Year

-

James' fascination with Lily had developed somewhat over the years, from wanting to befriend her, to wanting to impress her, to ignoring her after the general humiliation of third year Valentine's day and most recently to… well, drooling after her, as Sirius so pleasantly put it.

He'd always known she was pretty, that was indeed his very first impression of her, but it was only recently that he'd realised exactly what this meant in relation to him. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to smile at him. He wanted her to laugh at his jokes and actually listen to what he had to say. He wanted her to look at him like that group of girls in Hufflepuff looked at him. However, it sadly seemed that every step he'd made for the past four and a half years led him very much away from this goal.

He'd tried polite conversation but, "Alright, Evans," got him nothing but an icy glare and a face-full of red hair as she turned on heal and went elsewhere to study/daydream/socialise. He'd tried getting good grades to impress her but only ended up with her devoting herself entirely to her studies to beat him. He'd even tried carefully arranging friends to plant nice comments about him in conversations but all he got was an irate redhead telling him to "ask Alice out, for god's sake! She hasn't shut up about your bloody 'eyes' and 'hair' and 'quidditch' for the past week!"

What, he decided, it all came down to, was his utter inexperience with girls and it occurred to him that he could do with a little bit of help. He thought about it long and hard and somehow came to the conclusion that Sirius would be the best person to ask, turning down various female friends who might have actually had some form of insight. Sirius, he reasoned, may not have actually been in a relationship, but he had certainly snogged a number of girls and was even more popular than James himself in Hufflepuff.

Sirius' first bit of manly advice to Mr James Potter on the dilemma of Lily Evans was: "Well, why don't you ask her to Hogsmeade?"

And thus Phase One began.

-

It was cold on the grounds of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, wintry sunlight fluttering weakly through the flurries of snowfall while the Forbidden Forest lay unusually silent.

Lily Evans huffed uncomfortably from within a bundle of scarfs as she followed Alice through the vindictive elements to the small clearing set aside for Care for Magical Creatures lessons.

Divination had been cancelled due to some festive spirit on the teacher's part and by some strange loop of events Lily had somehow ended up accompanying her friend to the most hateful subject in the magical curriculum. It was cold, wet and by the sound of it they were to be learning about rare arctic dung beetles. Standing watching Professor Kettleburn describing the insects' abilities to break the ammonia produced by polar bears to form a bizarre magical compound was one of those moments that left Lily wondering why she'd even bothered getting out of bed that morning, let alone ended up standing knee deep in snow in a class she didn't even take.

"As you'll all remember from last week the activated ammonium ion is vital in the production of crude levitating oil, similar to the type used in the original models of broomsticks, three thousand plus years ago in Egypt. We'll be studying the scarab beetle later in the year so I advise you listen well to this, Mr Black, they're very closely related…"

Lily shuffled uncomfortably and turned to frown at the Mr Black in question. It was no secret that she didn't trust the Marauders, but the looks they'd been exchanging ever since they realised she was in their lesson unexpectedly had been enough to make her want to run straight back to her bed and wait for the inevitable hurricane to pass.

A few minutes later and they were all given a beetle between two to observe. While Alice riffled through her textbook Lily concerned herself with redoing the warming charms on her cloak; it was then that she felt rather than saw the Marauders stirring.

The following two minutes happened very quickly, Black distracting Alice while Potter sidled over to stand in front of Lily. The following evening she would remember only the barest details of what happened next, conveniently forgetting the shy way he toed the ground, the way his hand rested on the back of his neck while his head tilted towards the snow in uncertainty and his face reddened with embarrassment; the way he bit his lip before spitting out the rushed question and the way his eyes shone hopefully as she stood too shocked to answer. The next evening the only thing she'd properly remember was the words he'd used and the fact that the answer had most definitely been a "No!"

"Evans? I was… wondering… will yougotoHogsmeadewithme?"

-

James had never been so embarrassed in his entire life.

She had looked utterly horrified at his question, unable to even spit out a polite answer. He'd said little for the rest of the lesson and skipped Potions altogether, but that evening Sirius convinced him that the only reason she responded in that way was because he'd been so uncertain himself.

"The key to women," he said importantly, "is acting in control."

James had a sneaking suspicion this pearl of wisdom had been lifted from Mr Black senior's extensive guidelines for ruling a pureblood estate in the patriarchal old-blood sector of wizarding society, but he said nothing and decided to go along with it as it was the best lead he had.

"Evans," he said firmly, standing up straight and commanding in a way that he'd seen his dad do when talking with business associates, "Will you come to Hogsmeade with me?"

Her response had been even less favourable than the first time, she actually blanched before turning bright red and muttering something unintelligible, dashing up the stairs to the girls dorms without a backwards glance.

James watched in dejected confusion before turning to Alice in the seat next to the one Lily had just vacated, "I'm guessing that was a no?"

The blonde girl nodded with a small smile and quick apology before following her friend up the stairs.

"Bad luck, mate," came Sirius' voice from behind him, "We'll think of something."

-

And think of something they did. Many things, in fact, to Lily's utmost horror.

At breakfast she received a note repeating the question. And then another at lunch. And then one at dinner, charmed pink with an added "please" at the end.

The Hogsmeade weekend came and went and yet Potter had not let go of the idea. Lily's gratitude that she was no longer in the same Divination class as him reached whole new levels and with the Christmas holidays nearing she had never been so grateful to be leaving Hogwarts. He'd given her flowers, stolen her textbooks and written notes in the front of them, sent owls and even asked her what she wanted for Christmas. Her attempts at avoiding him were given a new urgency when Dumbledore and Flitwick combined forces to decorate the school with mistletoe and it was with a sense of barely contained joy that she boarded the Hogwarts Express on the twentieth of December.

However, one thing she had not counted on was her best friend's deep betrayal of trust and on the twenty-fifth she discovered that Alice had given up Lily's address to Potter and he'd actually gone to the effort of sending her a present. It had taken her two whole days to pluck up the courage to open it and another two days thereafter to convince herself that the carefully chosen book was in fact horrible and he was a thoughtless prat and she hated him. She sent him a harshly worded letter on New Year's Eve and demanded that he leave her alone next year and while there was no reply she felt somewhat satisfied that she'd dealt with the problem effectively.

-

With the coming of the new year and in light of the multitude of disastrous attempts at winning Lily Evan's heart James had given up on Sirius and decided to choose a new 'relationship advisor'. After all, it was a proven fact that the smallest details could count for everything.

The first thing Remus had done was laugh.

The second was to assure James that this recent decision was his most hopeful step yet.

He had then set the task of James telling him why he was so set on getting Lily.

"But you know that!"

"Do I?"

"Yes! You're always complaining about the running commentary I give you!"

"Well if you think you're so sure you can write me a list."

"What?"

James had stared at his friend in mild horror at such a pointless suggestion, seriously considering returning to Sirius for help.

"Then write a list of why she should consider you."

"I- Moony. This is ridiculous."

The boy raised and eyebrow and picked up his book, "You asked for my help and I'm giving you it."

"Lists?"

Remus ignored him and with rain pouring outside and Sirius in detention for another two hours James had only his Divination homework as an alternative.

He picked up his quill.

"Reasons why I, James Potter, like Lily Evans:"

He underlined it.

Even the title looked pathetic.

-

"'She comes up with the most elaborate ways of shooting me down without any obvious previous planning.'"

Remus looked sceptical.

"This is a good thing?"

"Yes!" stated James defensively.

"And are you sure you knowing what 'colour her eyes go when she's ready to throttle you' is a plus point?"

"Yes. She's beautiful. That's stated clearly in point one, four, seven and twenty…three?"

"'Twenty-three. She always wears purple socks on Thursdays.'" He raised an eyebrow, "James, I'm beginning to doubt your sanity."

"No! That's there because it shows how she has all these little routines, with a certain colour for a certain day and it ties in with how that would balance my reckless, unpredictable streak – that bit's in the second list. The 'why we'd be perfect together' one. The beautiful bit must have been twenty two."

"Right."

"And purple is the Hawks' colour."

"I though it was too good to be true for quidditch not to feature once."

-

"Erm, Evans?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, James heart soaring when she didn't dodge out of his way in desperation to avoid him. In fact, the first few weeks back at school had contained no propositions from Potter and Lily was feeling brave enough to go back to treating him to the odd disapproving eye-roll, safe in the knowledge that he had finally gotten bored of his new form of torture.

"I've got a question for you."

She looked up slowly from her book, panic mounting. "You're acting strange, Potter. You usually just plough straight in."

James perked up, "And you like this better?"

She watched him warily. "No. I was just commenting."

"So, you like the other me better?"

"What other you?"

"Well, you like me when I just ask you without telling you I'm going to ask you?"

"Erm,.." she looked a little nervous, please don't let him be doing this again…

"'Cause I can do either."

From somewhere nearer the fire there was a loud cough. James straightened up.

"Yes, well," he took a deep breath. "I just wanted to know, what's your favourite colour?" he said it in a bit of a rush. Lily looked puzzled (and felt mightily relieved).

"Why?"

"It's a questionnaire I'm filling in. About people. Lots of people. Not just you. See, Alice?" he called over to the little blonde, "What's your favourite colour?"

"Erm, blue," she called back, shaking her head before turning back to the conversation she was having with a sixth year boy.

James pretended to write her answer down.

Lily stared at him.

"This hasn't got anything to do with that thing I heard you talking to Black about earlier, has it?" she asked shrewdly. "Only I have no desire to see Snape's underwear, charmed my favourite colour or not."

James's brow creased. "You heard that?" A pregnant pause and then, "No! Nothing to do with that at all. In fact, we don't even have any plans involving Snape! You must have heard wrong, Snivellus on the brain or something." He arched a suggestive eyebrow.

Lily frowned.

Near the fire there was another cough.

"So, favourite colour, Evans?"

Shaking her head she answered, "Green, if you must know. And no, it's nothing to do with Slytherins or Snape in particular, so I'd appreciate it if you and Black would lay off with the Lily's-got-a-Snape-fetish thing. It's unpleasant."

Silently agreeing very much with that conclusion, James nodded, scribbling green next to point one.

Lily made to stand.

"When's your birthday, Evans?"

-

"Progress?"

"Yup. I've answered all of the first page," grinned James.

Remus looked up, surprised. "She actually answered you?"

Peter snorted, "No, Alice answered him with the promise that he'd find out whether Frank was staying in school for Easter."

"James! That wasn't the point! What happened to making conversation?"

James looked put out.

"I got the answers didn't I?"

Remus huffed, "And I trust you know why I made you do that?"

James blinked. "Not know, per sae… I trust it though, you tend to be logical with stuff like this," he added after a brief pause.

Remus sighed, shaking his head and settling back in his chair. "Never mind. I'll come up with something else."

-

Potter was acting very strange. That is to say, more strange than normal. Alice had told Lily immediately of the prospect of finding out whether her sixth year crush was in school for the holidays and pretty soon the conversation had come around to 'how'.

"He just asked you whether I had a pet?"

"Yeah. I've already told you, it was nothing sinister."

"And my family. He wanted to know my sister's name?"

"Yes, and no I don't know why. If you're that worried about it go ask him yourself."

Lily's troubled expression turned to eye Potter, sitting with his friends by the fire; the group of them looking with rapt concentration between some form of Lunar calendar and a Zonko's catalogue.

"They're all completely deranged," she commented.

Alice sniggered beside her, "They're probably planning some sort of potion to combine with Zonko's stuff. You need special moon phases for that sort of thing."

Mild distaste graced the redhead's face. "I hope not. I'm the prefect that'll be left to clear it all up."

Alice made a vague sound of sympathy. "They call him Prongs, you know," she said after a slight pause.

"Hmmm. As stated before, they're deranged."

"But don't you wonder why?"

"No."

"But-"

"And I don't want to think about it either Alice. Mental images I'd rather not go into."

Her friend stared, looked confused, frowned and then gasped with widened eyes, "Ergh! Lily! That's disgusting!"

-

"Evans?"

"Yes, Potter."

"Why don't you like me?"

She looked up from her Arithmancy, irritated by the distraction, "What?"

"Why don't you like me?"

"You mean 'why won't I go out with you'?"

"That too… But also why don't you like me."

"I never said I didn't like you."

"You did and even if you didn't it was implied."

He was holding a piece of parchment and a quill. In fact, the last few times he'd spoken to her he'd been holding a piece of parchment and a quill.

"What are you planning on writing down?" she inquired.

Potter's eyes widened, standing utterly still in the classic deer in headlights stance he then muttered some form of excuse before as good as dashing over to where Remus had been watching. Lily distinctly thought she heard him say "she's onto us," but that could have been simply the voice of her paranoia.

"You're right," noted Alice from her left, "They're definitely up to something."

-

Phase Two was failing miserably.

The idea had originally been to gradually introduce James into Lily's company and then eventually her good books. Sadly the little exercises Remus had planned ended with James bribing other people to tell him stuff about her and succeeded in nothing but making him look ever so slightly stalkerish. The lists he'd made James write on why he even wanted to go out with Lily didn't have quite the 'voyage of self discovery' effect he'd been looking for either. All in all Remus's 'subtle' approach just left James feeling he was getting nowhere and it wasn't a great surprise when his attention waned completely. That weekend James and Sirius put their heads together to deal with something else that had been niggling at their collective patience. That something else was of course Severus Snape.

The Slytherin boy had been on the wrong side of the duo since, ironically, on the first year boat ride to Hogwarts he'd dared to suggest that Sirius (heir to the Black's Ancient and Most Noble clan) would get sorted into Gryffindor for his foul mouth. The young Black had been so angered and offended he rugby tackled the scrawny boy, sending him flying into the dark water and since then their relationship had taken a rather long-term nosedive. He carried his grudge on into his new house, first resenting him for being right and then later for the slight on his beloved new home in Gryffindor.

By the beginning of second year Snape (or Snivellus as he had been dubbed by James in a moment of blazing wittiness) had been firmly established as Marauder Enemy Number One and for the next four years his status jumped erratically from Enemy to Victim and back again as the five boys involved researched new ammunition.

Currently Snape was in Enemy mode and both Sirius and James were anxious he should be restored to Victim status as soon as possible.

From Lily's point of view this was nothing more than shameless bullying grown from their utter stupidity in leaping at every provocation he made, but to them it was much more. It was asserting themselves. It was fighting for the honour of their house and their beliefs. It was upholding moral values and first and foremost it was teaching the snivelling Slytherin worm what it meant to mess with people such as they.

Who exactly they thought they were was one question ever hovering on the tip of Lily's tongue.

She'd grown used to the name calling of Slytherin, whether it was due to her heritage or James Potter's new fascination. She'd learnt to ignore words such as Mudblood, but sadly for her, Mr Potter had not.

He treated it as though they'd utterly violated her, which only made it harder to convince herself their words meant nothing, that the abuse slung around was no more than petty playground insults. (Nothing more, nothing deeper.) Years later she would tell him how much it broke her for him to bring up the awfulness of their words, and his eyes would fill with such guilt and hurt that she'd wish she'd said nothing at all; but for now she simply walked away, never doing anything but paint her disgust at him across her face. He didn't understand, but back then he didn't really try.

Easter passed and along came the exam term, OWLS study stress broken only by the Marauders and their Slytherin baiting. They met less resistance than ever with everyone so wrapped up in books and they grew arrogant in their string of trivial victories. Lily was appalled at what little regard they gave to their studies, and even more so at their continual desire to deny other people of theirs.

She tried so hard to devote herself to her revision, but every time the Marauders passed Snape in the corridor she was morally outraged. She tried ignoring them, but as the threats escalated and the spells used on both sides grew more serious it became difficult to even see where the Gryffindor boys were coming from (what in God's name could the pathetic boy have done to deserve such utter loathing?).

Over the exams there was a brief respite from their antics, either that or she was so absorbed in getting good grades that it all simply passed her by, but it was not until the end of their History of Magic exam, the second last OWL of the year, that things exploded so utterly that she actually stepped in.

Maybe Snape had said something, or maybe the boys were just restless after the exam they apparently thought so easy; whatever the reason wands were drawn and Snape was lying disarmed with bubbles pouring from his mouth.

"Leave him ALONE!"

He couldn't leave it at that, oh no, not Mister James I-am-so-wonderful Potter. He had to talk back, playing for the gathered crowd and apparently for her.

She was not impressed.

"You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant bullying toe rag, Potter, leave him alone."

She'd had thought her tone of voice indicated just how unimpressed she really was, she'd have thought he had at least the barest scrap of intelligence in that bloody horrifically overlarge head, but no. He had to ask that question.

Close to snarling she snapped, "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."

And then suddenly Potter's face was bleeding and Snape's underpants were on display for everyone on that side of the lake to see.

People actually cheered the idiot.

"Let him down!"

And he did, into a crumpled heap only to be frozen again by yet another red spark of light.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

She shocked herself to find her own wand pointing at Potter.

He looked alarmed and uttered what could have been a threat were it not for his earnest tone, but he let Snape up all the same.

And then that bloody idiot Slytherin called her that name and Potter was at it again, demanding apologies on her behalf. She'd admit it freely that she'd gone perhaps a little overboard, but that didn't mean she hadn't meant it. "…You think it looks cool… hexing anyone who annoys you… your fat head… You make me SICK!"

She'd left after that; heart pounding and face so red she thought she'd catch alight.

"I hate him," she moaned to Alice that evening, hugging her pillow and despairing at the state of mind he'd got her in – there was no way she'd get a decent grade in Transfiguration thanks to him.

She felt it should felt some comfort in the way he completely ignored her for the remaining few days of term, and how depressed he seemed at mealtimes. But some small part of her stirred with guilt and that, if anything, just made her more angry.

The end of fifth year couldn't come quick enough for either of them, and all Lily could be thankful for was the fact he wouldn't so much as speak to her, let alone ask her out. She could only hope the following year would continue in the same way.

-

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