Lily sat at her small desk, dusting her quill against her nose, re-reading the letter for what had to be the thirty-sixth time. She was searching for some sort of hidden meaning - something that actually wasn't there at all.

Hi Lily,

Thank you for the necklace. It's pretty.

-Petunia

Surely it was just something their mother had forced Petunia to write, and Lily felt a small pang of sadness rip through her chest. Even though she set herself up for the disappointment, it was still painful to only get this letter. Lily had spent a significant amount of her money on Petunia's birthday gift, and probably wouldn't be able to buy sweets for the next four months because of the sacrifice. Why didn't Petunia ever appreciate anything? Why was Lily being punished for something that was out of her control? It probably would have been easier if Petunia had just sent nothing. Then perhaps Lily could pretend it was lost in the post, or that her sister was so ecstatic that she had forgotten to write a thank-you note. Or more, that it was just so normal for them to be nice to one another that Petunia didn't find it necessary to write such a note. Right.

Lily carefully folded the letter and placed it in her letter box with all of her own unsent letters and a certain singed photograph. She pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and scribbled a letter of her own.

Tuney,

You're very welcome. How was your birthday? Did you get anything good? I can't wait to see you again, and I hope you're well.

Lots of Love,

Lily

She folded the letter quickly, perhaps a bit more violently than actually necessary, but this time she proceeded to crumple up the paper and throw it into the waste basket. Why did she keep doing this? She probably had some undiagnosed mental disorder. Lovely.

Along with the very short letter from her sister, was a much more lengthy one from her mother. It filled in the gaps that Petunia's letter had left - how lovely Petunia's birthday dinner was and what Vernon had bought her and how the cat had jumped on the table and eaten the pudding. Mum at least thought Lily's gift was thoughtful and lovely. At least it was something. It ended by asking how Lily was faring and if she had managed not to throttle Potter yet - that made her chuckle a bit.

Lily picked up her quill again and another fresh parchment. She wrote her mum a quick letter to let her know that she was doing very well, getting along with James, and was thrilled that Petunia had a good birthday party. She sealed the letter, marked it 'mum' and pushed open the door to the Heads' common room.

"Hey Lily, where're you off too?" James seemed to have been in the process of attempting to will his homework into existence rather than actually write his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, and was all too eager to be distracted from the monotony. Lily shot a glance toward the darkening sky, pushing thoughts of the last time she made this trek out of her mind.

"I'm heading to the Owlry to send a letter to my family."

"May I accompany you, my fair lady?" It was clear from the momentarily alarmed expression that passed over his face that his mind had also flashed back to the last time she had been heading off to the Owl Post. It had ended okay, but was fairly terrifying for the both of them. Despite James' joking tone, it was easy to see that he was anxious to go with her.

"I don't need a baby-sitter, James." Lily muttered, a little affronted. She could take care of herself. She had just been a little... frazzled, that last time. Usually she was far more aware of her surroundings, but she didn't want to sound overly defensive, because that only made her look like she was making pathetic attempts to rationalize her behaviour. Of course, that was what she was trying to do, but James didn't have to know that.

"Do I really look like the baby-sitting type? Merlin, nobody would let me around their children!" The scandalized look that passed over his face was positively outrageous, and Lily couldn't hold back a small snort of laughter. "I simply wished to be graced by the pleasure of your company." He smiled charmingly, eyes sparkling innocently. Lily shrugged after a moment of deliberation, resigned. Really, there was no legitimate reason for her to refuse his company, aside from her own pride.

"Excellent." James' smile grew even more ecstatic as he followed her into the hallway. For a few moments, there was an awkward silence between them. Well, Lily thought it was awkward, at least. James happened to think it was quite a comfortable one, and finally broke it when Lily started to fold the corners of her letter without realizing what exactly she was doing.

"What's your favorite animal?" He asked suddenly. Lily blinked several times, confused. Where had that come from?

"Erm... what do you mean?" She asked slowly - perhaps there was some bizarre deep meaning to his odd query? She couldn't fathom what.

"You know," he laughed, "Dog, horse, platypus?" Lily snorted, still unable to understand what he was playing at. Oh well, she could play along, she supposed.

"Er, I think probably cats," She said finally, she liked their independence, and grace. They enjoyed solitude and were not dependent on others for the most part. They also seemed to be very intelligent creatures. She told James as much, unsure of why exactly he was so strangely curious. "So what's your favourite animal?" She fired back, suddenly curious herself.

"Deer. They're so dainty but very strong and fast and agile - you wouldn't believe how interesting they are." His eyes were twinkling as though there was some sort of joke involved in this statement, but Lily brushed it off as typical Jameslike behavior. Without giving her much time for reflection, he started up again. "What's your favorite number?"

Lily bit her lip, what was with the interrogation? And such random questions... her favorite number? She always liked the number five. And seven. "I suppose five. Why? Are you trying to psychoanalyze me or something?" She shot at him, figuring he must have some sort of ulterior motive. Afterall, he was James Potter.

"Psycho- what?" A look of such utter bewilderment passed over his features that Lily sighed and couldn't help but smile a bit at the image.

"Nevermind - what's your favorite number then, Sherlock Holmes?"

"Who's - oh, nevermind. Thirteen. I think all of that bad luck bullsh-" Lily shot him an intense look "- dung. Bull dung. Right. Anyway, I think you make your own luck. My dad always says, ' the harder you work, the luckier you are.'" James pulled open the door leading up to the Owlry, bowing extravagantly. Lily laughed and hoped he dismissed her slight blush as just a response to the exertion of walking so far. Huh. Hard work. Lily wondered if James Potter had ever really worked hard for anything - he was handsome, intelligent, popular, wealthy... Did he believe what his father said on faith, or did he really work harder than he let on? On what?

She pushed the thought aside and thanked him with a small smile for holding the door. He could act like a right little gentleman sometimes. It was a shame he was usually joking around, as he was now.

In a few moments time the pair was heading back to the common rooms, James still asking Lily question after random question. Then, just after the pair had made their way down the staircase from the Owlry, they lapsed once again into a silence. This time, however, it was mutually comfortable. The dark hallway was bathed only in the soft light of the crescent moon - it was easy to tell that winter was quickly approaching, with nightfall coming earlier and earlier each day. Lily bit her lip as the issue that had been bothering her so much lately lurched back into the fore of her mind - Remus. She knew bringing up the subject was going to most probably make him lose his rag, but now was as good a moment as ever - it wasn't as though he was apt to run off or anything.

"James? Er... is Remus ... okay?" She couldn't bring herself to say anything more, and cursed her own cowardice.

James' relaxed stance quickly stiffened minutely, and his voice dropped until it was barely audible. "Remus is perfectly well... Why do the paintings even pretend to sleep, it's not as though they are even capable of sleeping, anyway. I suppose they just enjoy eavesdropping, is all. Look at that one of the violinist -" He pointed to a painting several meters down the corridor " - The violin in that painting was a Stradivarius owned by a famous wizard violinist, he was my mother's great uncle, isn't it odd? I don't see the resemblance. And of course the musical talent failed to carry over..."

He had gone off on so many tangents that Lily was shocked at how quickly she found herself distracted, but she had also picked up on the hint quickly: he clearly had something to hide about Remus, but did not wish to discuss it in public when it was a certain possibility that they could be overheard. On the other hand, she couldn't help but wonder about the painting, or the story behind it, as she studied the artwork. The man holding the beautiful instrument was looking intently at a sheet of music, mostly facing away from them, and was moving from side to side as though dancing to a tune in his mind. His dark curly hair was somewhat similar to James' own, but that was where the resemblance appeared to end. She had heard somewhere that most if not all Purebloods were at least vaguely related, she wondered if Sirius and James were themselves related. How very odd. Reluctantly, she decided to let the issue go, for now. But this was only another reason why she knew something was not quite the way it was being made to appear.

"You are actually related to a famous musician? Was he only famous in the wizarding world, or also as a muggle?" She questioned, a little curious.

James shrugged, relaxed now that his distraction had clearly worked. "I think only in the wizarding world. I'm not entirely positive, actually. We could ask him, but we'd probably be stuck here all night." He rolled his eyes and turned down a side corridor that Lily had never gone down in her life. She sighed heavily and paused a moment, but ultimately decided to follow him.

-:-

Sirius,

You know how difficult it is for me to ask you this, so please oblige me. I need help with dueling - and today is the only day that I really could do it. Professor Oxley will murder me if I fail my next practical exam, and you know what mum would do.

your brother,

R.A.B

Sirius read over the letter several times, and snorted before crumbling up the paper and pegging it at an unaware Prongs, who had turned his head to talk to the sixth year across the Gryffindor breakfast table. James ignored the paper and finished his conversation, sure that the only person who would throw a piece of paper at him was the one who was indeed the culprit. Sirius rested his chin on his palm, looking absurdly like a moody model posing for a photo shoot. Remus sighed and threw his friend a questioning look.

"My stupid little rat of a brother - er, no offense Wormy," Peter looked up, but clearly hadn't heard what Sirius had just said. "Nevermind. Regulus just sent me an odd letter. Wants me to help him learn how to duel. Funny. Why on God's green earth would I ever be inclined to help the little snot with anything at all? Least of all with something which he could later use against me, and during a Hogsmeade weekend!" He took a deep breath at the completion of his rant, satisfied that he had adequately gotten across his point. Remus remained quiet for a short moment after to make sure Sirius was indeed finished before shrugging.

"He wants you to help him learn how to duel? Does he often ask you things like that?" To Remus, this sounded out of place, suspicious even. But what sort of ulterior motives could Regulus possibly have, anyway?

"Never really talks to me, actually," Sirius pushed his glass of pumpkin juice around the tip of his fork, going over it in his mind. Perhaps Regulus and some of his fellow lackeys just wanted to ambush him in the corridor. Whatever his reason, Sirius didn't feel inclined to help his younger brother with anything. He didn't like to talk about it, but he still felt some level of brotherly affection for Regulus. He wished that Regulus wasn't so easily influenced and bullied by their family, but clearly they had each made their choices, and Regulus made the wrong one. It wasn't Sirius' problem at this point, as far as he was concerned - telling himself that made him feel better about it, at least.

Remus nodded his head slowly, not completely buying what Regulus had asked. He opened his mouth to speak just as James decided to jump into the conversation, suddenly as ever.

"You don't really plan to skip a Hogsmeade trip for that snaky little brat brother of yours, do you?" He was speaking in that intensely furious voice that somehow managed to still be an undertone low enough not to be heard by too many people. James had an aversion to Regulus that was probably stronger than Sirius' own - he blamed Regulus for not supporting Sirius and for embracing dark magic when he was really too naive to understand it in the first place. This was what Sirius had needed to hear. He picked up a quill and flattened out the letter so that it was a curved and crinkled joke of what it had been originally. He scribbled 'hah.' onto the back of the note, and passed it to the bird.

"Would you bring this to dear Regulus Black for me?" Sirius watched intently as the bird took the note and flew over to the Slytherin table. Regulus stared at the paper solemnly for a moment, and quickly shoved it in his pocket. He brought his eyes up and locked his gaze on Sirius' own gray eyes. The look was a strangely unfamiliar expression on Regulus' face, but growing up with someone, you learn to interpret his every minute facial expression.

Regulus looked terrified.

-:-

Lily glanced over at the calendar, and suddenly closed her eyes to think. How long had she been staying in the Heads' quarters? September, October... it was November already - wasn't she only required to stay here three weeks? When had that turned into three months? Why hadn't anybody mentioned it at all, either? She was a little surprise it was even permitted at all.

The wild part was, Lily didn't want to go back to the regular dormitories. She enjoyed the privacy of the Heads' dorms, and though she wasn't eager to admit it, she enjoyed James' company. How silly! Mary would have a field day with that information - not that she didn't already have it - she just knew better than to bring it up just yet in front of her best friend. Speaking of aforementioned best friend, Lily knew that Mary was waiting for her so that they could go down to Hogsmeade together. She yawned soundlessly and carefully closed her charms textbook - Mary most certainly would not take studying as an excuse for being late to something as exciting to her as a Hogsmeade weekend.

Lily sighed and ran her fingers through her soft hair - it always felt so nice after a nice long hot shower and a drying spell. It smelled lovely as well, like freash cut roses. She pulled the red waves into a high pony tail and put her wand in her pocket before heading out toward the Great Hall, where she was meeting Mary. James was already long gone, as she noticed as she passed through the very much empty Heads Common Room, a strange unsettling feeling rooted in her chest. She sort of wished she could just stay in and read today, she had one of those feelings that it would be a most enjoyable day to relax the day away in solitude. She was exhausted already, as well, but hoped she would wake up once in the presence of her uppity friend.