Lily Evans stood on the edge of Platform 9 ¾, her face contorted into a frown. Above the left breast pocket of her crisp white Oxford shirt, her Head Girl badge shined. It had been polished to the point of overkill the night before, and there was no mistaking the tiny Gryffindor crest at the bottom. Her battered brown trunk rested near her feet, jarred occasionally when her tapping foot met the side of it. It was overstuffed as always, but the thick leather straps held it together as faithfully now as they had during her previous six years of education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It had not been the best summer of her life. She’d arrived home to an overly-attentive mother, an overly antisocial father, and an overly hypocritical, bigoted younger sister, who spent the holidays whining, moping, and doing everything within her power to make Lily absolutely miserable. Lily lost count of the times Petunia had tried to hide the spellbooks and parchment Lily had brought home for the summer. The locating charms she was now legally allowed to cast had come in handy, but there was nothing to be done for the several assignments that had “accidentally” been destroyed when the normally graceful Petunia had clumsily knocked into the table at which Lily had been working, tipping her ink across the tidy parchment. Francine Evans had chided her youngest daughter until screaming fights broke out, at which point Lily would retreat upstairs to re-do whichever essay had been ruined.

The brightest spot in an otherwise dreary holiday, Lily mused, had been the appearance of one Raoul Montblanc, dearest and only nephew of the rich and elderly widow down the road. A University student born and raised in the heart of Paris, Raoul had been overflowing with witty French anecdotes, clever French jokes, and passionate French kisses, shared on the patio in his aunt’s backyard underneath the stars.

Lily sighed wistfully. Alice Elliot, during her one visit to Lily’s house over the holidays, had summed Raoul up perfectly when she turned to Lily, wide-eyed, and whispered, “Cripes, Lily!” after her first meeting with the older French boy. Lily had to agree –- Raoul was charming and elegant and dashingly tall, dark, and handsome, and most importantly, the farthest from James Potter anyone could possibly get.

She scowled. James Potter, the bane of her existence.

It was much less than love at first sight –- his first words to her (“Is your hair on fire? Shall I put it out for you?”) being followed by a swift shove into the lake. It had been a horrible way to become acquainted with the Giant Squid, and had been made even worse, when, arriving at the castle, dripping wet and shivering, she had “conveniently” fallen on her face, tripping over his foot as she climbed out of the small rowboat. Lily had had no qualms about telling the truth when Professor McGonagall, a stern middle-aged witch with black hair and square spectacles, asked what on Earth had happened to her. James Potter received his first detention before even being sorted, and called her a tell-tale when the Professor turned her back. Lily had stomped on his foot and spit in his hair, and he had pushed her over into Alice, which was for the best in the end anyway, because Alice had helped Lily up, smiled at her, and kicked James in the shins. The girls were instant friends, and while a whimpering James went off to start an argument with another first-year, a tall, lanky boy with stormy grey eyes and shining black hair, Alice explained all about the four houses of Hogwarts and what to expect.

The Sorting Ceremony had been a moment of pure terror for Lily, her mind frantically whirling around all the things that could go wrong. Alice had explained to her about the Sorting Hat, but what if it rejected her? Could it send her home when she’d come so far? She couldn’t imagine fitting into any of the houses Alice had described – she wasn’t cunning or sly so as to be sorted Slytherin (which was rather a relief, as Alice had said no respectable witch would want to be sorted there) and she wasn’t clever enough to be a Ravenclaw. She was hard-working, she supposed, but thinking on it, she fibbed quite a bit, and wasn’t honesty supposed to be important in Hufflepuff? And Gryffindor… Well, Gryffindor was definitely not for her. She wasn’t brave at all – right now, in fact, she felt queasy and ill and wanted very much to simply faint away.

That was when another horrible thought occurred to her: maybe she wasn’t magical after all; maybe it was all just a cruel joke!

It was with trembling legs and knocking knees Lily had walked up to the front of the hall and seated herself on the stool, plopping the hat down over her head. It had covered nearly her whole face, and she had sighed with relief at not having to face the older students, who she felt were surely all looking at her as though she were less than dirt.

The hat had taken a long time deciding, so long that she’d heard the grey-eyed boy whispering loudly to the other boy -- the one with the messy black hair who’d pushed her into the lake, the one McGonagall had called James Potter -- that she was probably so dim it was still looking for her brain. She had burned bright red, thankful her face was hidden, and had asked the Hat politely that, if it was going to be taking a bit longer to decide, would it mind teaching her some sort of spell to use on the horrid boy to shut him up? At that, it had chuckled in a hat-like way and sung out “Gryffindor!” for the Great Hall to hear. She’d nearly fainted with relief as she slid off the stool and made her way to the farthest table, the one decorated with red and gold banners with rampant lions, sitting down in the first available seat, across from two much older boys with identical sparkling blue eyes, strawberry-blonde hair, and mischievous grins.

Lily smiled fondly. The Prewetts had been gone for several years; the last she’d heard they were working for the Ministry, and she chuckled to herself. No doubt they were causing mayhem and mischief just as they had during their time at Hogwarts, most likely driving the Minister of Magic completely mad. Troublemakers to the last, it was rumoured that they had set the record for Howlers received during their seven years at school. Lily made a mental note to send them one as soon as she had a chance –- they would think it was a right joke, and most likely send her one straight back, perhaps of Gideon singing in the shower: something guaranteed to remind the students of Hogwarts that though the Great and All-Powerful Prewetts (their words) were gone at last from the hallowed halls of that “prestigious learning institute”, their spirit would forevermore carry on.

She had just began a mental first draft of the Howler when she stopped short, her eyes settling on four students who had just walked through the barrier from the Muggle station. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked away, her cheerful mood vanishing.

“Oh God, there she is!” James Potter wailed, slumping against the short blonde boy next to him and falling to the floor of the station.

“Buck up, Prongsy,” Peter Pettigrew said, leaning down to pat James’ already disheveled head. “Don’t start moping yet, you haven’t even spoken to her.”

“She hates me,” James whimpered, slinging an arm across his face dramatically.

Remus Lupin sighed and rolled his eyes, nodding to Peter and pulling their friend to his feet. “Get off the floor, James, it’s filthy.”

James whimpered again pathetically, allowing himself to be pulled up. “Padsy, I’m dying,” he said, turning to the fourth boy. “She’s a goddess.”

Sirius Black was not paying attention. They had been on the platform for less than thirty seconds, and he was already flirting with a rather pretty fifth year, running his fingers through his shining black hair, grinning at her wolfishly and touching her arm as she asked him why he hadn’t replied to her owls over the summer.

“Mafalda, darling, I was in Romania all through the hols!” he explained, sounding hurt. “The owls there must have been dreadful; I wrote you a thousand times at least!” He twirled a lock of her long brown hair around his finger, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. She giggled, and he winked at her, patting her bum as she scampered off. “Lovely girl, that one,” he said airily, eyes glued to her arse as she skipped down the platform.

“Sirius, you were home all holiday,” Remus said, slightly annoyed. “You chased all of her owls off after feeding her letters to the cockroaches living behind the toilet. And you called her a wench. That does not sound very lovely to me.”

Sirius grinned pleasantly, and ruffled his friend’s hair, slinging an arm around the other boy’s shoulder. “Moony-my-love, this is why you do not have a bird: honesty is never the best policy. Why, if I was told the truth to every girl I’d ever snogged, I--“

”Can we get back to the undying torment I am in?” James interrupted, still watching Lily in purported agony as she loaded her trunk onto the train. “Evans still hates me.”

“That’s because you’re honest with her,” Peter suggested helpfully, glancing at Sirius for approval. The taller boy nodded sagely, and Peter continued. “If you lied, then she would like you.”

“What would I lie about?” James asked scathingly, turning to Peter.

“Erm…” Peter said, blushing. “I don’t… Oh, look, there’s Marlene!” He scampered off into the crowd, waving to someone they couldn’t see.

James sighed far more heavily than what the situation warranted, and continued staring at Lily, his face contorted in pain. “She hates me,” he said again unnecessarily, as she had whirled around when Peter had bumped into her accidentally, and was now shooting icy glares at James.

“She does not hate you,” Remus reassured, wincing inwardly as he said it. He was a terrible liar.

“My,” Sirius said, lugging his trunk out of the way, “but you are horrid at lying, aren’t you, Moony?” James wailed, and Sirius rolled his eyes, smacking his best friend upside the skull. “Stop mooning about -- sorry, Remus -– and just accept your fate: she will never go out with you.”

James made a disgusted face, and began dragging his trunk to the side of the platform, as they could hear angry voices on the other side demanding to know why the barrier wasn’t letting them through. “She will go out with me,” he muttered resolutely, swearing and then levitating his trunk onto the train, knocking over a baggage handler in the process. He grinned at Sirius. “I keep forgetting we’re of age now.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sirius said cheerfully, doing the same to his and Remus’ trunks. “Now, shall we go find a compartment?”

“Lily!”

Lily turned, relieved to hear a friendly and wanted voice. “Hello Alice!” she said, smiling as her best friend came down the corridor towards her. The plump blonde girl smiled, hugging Lily with enough force to nearly knock her over.

“How was the rest of your summer, then?” Alice asked, linking arms with Lily.

“Lovely, except for the ten or so owls I received from him every day,” Lily said, making a face. “I can’t imagine how I’m going to make it through the rest of the year having to work with that idiot. How he ever got to be Head Boy, I’ll never understand...”

Alice sighed, patting Lily’s shoulder. “He is a nuisance. What of Raoul, though?” She waggled her eyebrows at her friend, and they both giggled.

“Lovely, actually,” Lily said, smiling faintly. “Oh, look what he gave me!” She reached into her shirt, pulling out a tiny oval locket on a delicate gold chain. She popped it open, and there was a miniscule picture of Raoul, smiling and flipping his hair about attractively.

Alice giggled when he winked at her and blew a kiss, and she raised her eyebrows at Lily. “I’ll assume the original photo wasn’t such a flirt?”

“It had a Muggle photo,” Lily explained, “but I took it out and replaced it with one from that camera Dorcas gave me for Christmas. Couldn’t stand it any other way, now.”

“That’s brilliant!” Alice said, peering at the tiny waving Frenchman. “Phwoar, he’s bloody gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“Mmm,” Lily agreed, snapping the locket closed and tucking it back inside her blouse. “And now I can look at him any time I want!”

Alice sighed again, shaking her head. “Lucky.” She peered in the door of a compartment, nudging Lily inside. “Here, this one’s empty.”

“All right,” Lily said, following Alice in. “I’ve got to go do Head Girl things in a moment, but let’s sit for a moment at least. I’m bloody exhausted. Dad insisted we drive me, even though I assured him it was legal for me to Apparate now.” She rolled her eyes. “’I don’t want my baby girl popping off to the station!’ and ‘it’s not safe!’ and all that rubbish. Honestly, I wish there was a magical theory class for Muggles, he’d lap it right up.”

Alice laughed. “I could always lend him my Mum’s university textbook?”

Lily snorted. “No, don’t. I’d never be able to pull him out of it. Mum’d be furious, he already spends too much time leafing through my school books anyway.”

They had barely settled into their seats when the door to the compartment swung open again, and two girls came in, chattering together about that summer’s Quidditch World Cup.

“Hello, darlings!” Dorcas Meadows said loudly, flopping across the seat into Lily’s lap. “Can you believe it? Poland finally took the cup!”

Lily laughed, and Marlene Engleborne took a seat next to Alice, sticking her tongue out at Dorcas.

“Only because China lost a Chaser during the first ten minutes of the match,” Marlene protested, waving a hand as if trying to bat away a pesky fly. “If Xiao hadn’t been out of commission, it would have been an entirely different story.”

“Not a chance,” Dorcas scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Xiao is a terrible Chaser anyway.”

“Are you blind, Meadows?” Marlene exploded, shaking her head. “Xiao can’t catch the Quaffle to save his ruddy life! If he were even half as good as Pietryzyk, they might have been able to score a –-“

“China’s got alright offense, but it’s mostly the fault of their Beaters.”

The girls all turned to the door, where James Potter had stuck his head in, having apparently been listening to the conversation.

“Guang should have been able to knock Sawzcyn off his broom, but instead he let the bloody berk score about twenty times,” he said lazily, crossing his arms and leaning in the door frame. “ Poland’s an alright team, but China’s just gotten sloppy. This is the third World Cup they’ve been to in the past six years, and the only one they’ve lost.”

Dorcas’ mouth was hanging open in fury, and even Marlene, who supported Poland, was looking more than miffed.

“What do you mean, alright?” Marlene shrieked, clenching her fists. “ China couldn’t Beat their way out of a soggy cardboard box, but that doesn’t mean Poland doesn’t have the finest team of Chasers in Quidditch for at least a decade!”

James shrugged infuriatingly. “They’re alright, like I said, but they need to hone their--“

“Can we help you with something?” Lily hissed, looking utterly livid.

“Oh,” James said, looking started and, for the first time, meek. “Erm, yes, meeting… Heads and things… you know?”

“Spit it out,” Lily said viciously, her eyes still narrowed.

“We, erm, have to go to the meeting… thing. I was sent to fetch you.”

Lily sighed, giving her friends an apologetic look. “I’ll see you lot at school.” They nodded, and she slipped out of the compartment after James, sliding the door shut behind her quietly.

“Do you have to do that?” she asked angrily, walking slightly behind him as they made their way to the front of the train.

“Do what?” James asked, looking completely puzzled.

“Offend everyone you come in contact with!”

“I do not!” he defended, turning to face her. “I can’t help it if your friends don’t know a thing about Quidditch!”

“Oh, yes, good job not being offensive, Potter,” Lily said nastily, stalking past him.

“Well I can’t help it!” he protested, following after her. “And anyway, they’ve never been exactly pleasant to me, now have they?”

“Perhaps,” Lily said, not turning around as she continued down the corridor, “if you didn’t hide and set fire to their knickers on a regular basis, they would be slightly more willing to make conversation.”

“That was only the one time!” James said, indignant. “And it’s not as if they didn’t have enough! Girls are veritably crawling with knickers! The bureaus were stuffed, and it was only one pair each. They didn’t—“

Lily turned abruptly to face James, her wand suddenly out and a centimeter away from his eye. “Shut. Up,” she growled, eyes blazing. “Now, we are going to go inside that compartment—“ she jerked her head at the door beside them “—and we are going to discuss Prefect duties and rounds with the students inside. We will give them their schedules, which I made,” she said, pulling the aforementioned schedules out of her breast pocket, where they’d been neatly folded, and continued, “and you will smile and direct any questions asked of you to me.”

James nodded weakly, looking rather cross-eyed as he tried to look at her wand, which was twitching closer and closer to his eye with every word. “Right,” he said meekly, leaning his head back a bit and nodding. “No answering. Schedules.”

“Good,” Lily said, and jabbed him in the eye for good measure, sweeping inside the compartment with a placid smile on her face. She pulled James, whose eye was bright red and watering, inside the compartment, and shut the door. “Right,” she said, turning to address the students inside with a smile. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!”

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