Title: Harry Potter Histories: Lily Evans and the Wolfsbane Secret

Era: Marauders (1970-1981)

Summary: Lily Evans enters her seventh-year at Hogwarts as Head Girl, uncertain where she stands with James Potter and hardly realizing that it is the last time she will feel safe from the war against Voldemort. A series of attacks on the castle's grounds indicate the presence of something terrible in the Dark Forest, and signs point to a werewolf. Working together with James and the Marauders, Lily must discover the truth before the school turns against an innocent friend.

Author's Note: This is my personal take on the much-imagined Year Seven story of the Marauders, with a particular focus on Lily Evans (all the chapters are narrated from a tight third-person perspective that focuses on her take on the events). I actually wrote this several years ago but returned to it to make some minor changes so that it would fit with The Deathly Hallows, which wasn't published at the time. I also corrected some random grammatical errors. As always, anything associated with Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One – A Chance Encounter

If one would have seen the newspaper that drifted out of Lily Evans's second-story window from any other house on the street, it would have appeared quite ordinary. But as Lily watched The Daily Prophet flutter out the window, she made a desperate grab for it. She knew how different it truly was, and that difference would raise questions if anyone happened to find it lying in the street.

Unfortunately, she leaned a bit too far over her desk and spilled a small jar of ink over the long sheet of parchment on which she had been writing out new potion ideas she wanted to try when she returned to Hogwarts after vacation. Cursing, she drew her wand and held it over the table.

"Bloody hell!" she said, realizing that by the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery she couldn't clean the mess up with the typical incantation of Scourgify!

She didn't even want to think it too strongly, for she was now quite accomplished at nonverbal spells.

Taking one last look out the window at the Prophet, which was fluttering to the ground, Lily crumpled up her parchment and sighed. As she walked outdoors she looked out at the stars, noting the constellations she had studied for so many years at Hogwarts. Her eyes strayed towards Mars, which was quite high and bright in the sky.

As she walked around the side of the house, she thought it was a good thing that it was night. Their neighbors might have found it suspicious for her to go to all this trouble to retrieve a newspaper, which was now stuck atop a high hedge beyond her reach.

A low sound, almost a growl, arose from her throat as she jumped up to reach the paper. In the glow of the streetlamp, she noticed that the figure on the front page looked decidedly frightened and disheveled and was shaking his head back and forth. Its lips even appeared to be sounding out the words, "I don't like heights."

Lily's attention was so affixed upon the newspaper clinging to the top of the hedges that she failed to notice the first light at the end of her street suddenly go out. A small globe of light streaked away from the top of the post and disappeared into the night. The next bulb in line, and then the next, soon followed.

When the light above her grew dark, she whirled around and said, "Who's there?" She heard the soft rustle of footsteps and drew her wand. There are exceptions for underage wizards if they really need to use magic for defense, she tried to reassure herself. She was still considering whether an elementary Lumos spell would suffice when a voice called out in the darkness.

"Accio Daily Prophet," the voice drawled confidently. Lily wrenched her wand in the direction of the voice. Apparently she must have been thinking quite intensely, for the end of her wand suddenly brightened and illuminated a small globe-like area around her.

She quickly flicked it off. I'm not supposed to do that.

"I won't tell if you won't," the voice said, as if reading her thoughts. Another wand lit up in the darkness, and in its light she saw the newspaper sailing into the waiting hand of one of the last people on earth that Lily had expected—or desired—to see.

"Potter?" she blurted, in a tone both astonished and aggrieved. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" After another second she added, "At my house?"

"I just happened to be in the neighborhood," James Potter replied casually. "That light suits your hair, you know." And it was true. The silvery threads of light seemed like fire against the strands of her dark red hair.

Her eyes flashed dangerously as she said, "Watch it, Potter."

"Woah, woah, no need to get hostile with me. I was just paying you a compliment," he said. His smile was slight and momentary, a mere twitch of shadow around the mouth. He brushed a lock of hair away from the side of his face.

"I wouldn't worry about the spellwork, actually. The Ministry knows I've been sent here, so…let's just say the eyes aren't watching as closely as they normally are." He smiled, but after he spoke they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"So," she said, a hint of expectation in her voice.

"So," he said, for the first time sounding a bit uncertain. "Here's your newspaper."

She quickly snatched it from his outstretched hand. As he withdrew it, she saw the long object in his hand. It appeared like an elongated cigarette lighter, although the fine filigree and the spots of rust on the metal engravings gave it the look of a valuable antique.

"No word of thanks?"

"I didn't need your help, thank you very much."

"Oh," he retorted, "So all that jumping was what, a bit of the ol' exercise routine, eh, Evans? That's how you stay in shape over the lazy summer months?"

Lily scowled at him. "I guess lugging around that big head of yours is what keeps you in shape, I'm sure. More than enough exertion, no doubt." She stalked past him back towards the front door.

"So you think I'm in good shape, Evans?" Rather than answer, she tapped her wand irritably against her leg. As the light vanished, James' face and smile vanished into the darkness behind her.

She had just opened the door when he reappeared behind her.

"What, not going to invite an old friend in?"

She started at him. "What did you just call yourself?"

He shrugged. "Why, an old friend. A chum, a pal, a buddy. A peer."

"The only way I'd call you chum is if I was getting ready to throw you into a pack of seals," she said, quite exasperated. But a little voice niggled her instead her head. What was James Potter doing here, in Surrey of all places, this late at night? And why did he have Dumbledore's light-flicker with him?

She needed to get him out of here quickly, before…Too late. As she turned to enter the house, her mother appeared at the door. Mrs. Evans was a kind-looking woman with the slightest hint of laugh lines around her green eyes and an easy smile.

"Lily, why are you standing outside—oh, who is this young man?" Lily couldn't help noticing the glimmer of hope in her mother's eyes as she surveyed him. Oh no. Oh no, no no, she thought. She could imagine her mother sizing him up as a possible romantic interest for her youngest daughter. Lily could remember all of her mother's supposedly subtle inquiries: "So, met any interesting boys at school this past year?"

"Why, hello. I see where Lily gets her beauty," James said smoothly. Her mother covered her mouth and made a little sound. A giggle, Lily realized with astonishment. "The hair must come from her father, I guess." Her mother's hair was a rather dark shade of brown.

"We haven't been introduced, I think," he said. Here he stepped up level with Lily and seemed inclined to wait for her to say something.

She only glared daggers at him. She was definitely not going to introduce him to her mother if she could help it.

Shrugging his shoulders imperceptibly, he continued. "My name is James Potter. I'm in the same year as Lily at Hogwarts. I just happened to be nearby and thought I'd say a quick hello."

"Yes, well, hello, James," Lily said. "If you really want to make it quick, we could say goodbye here as well."

"Lily, don't rush the young man off so quickly!" She groaned as her mother swung the door open. "Oh, you must come in for some tea, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans."

"Oh, call me Evelyn, I insist you call me Evelyn."

"Thank you Mrs. Ev—Evelyn." And he followed her inside the house.