AN: This has been edited several times with several plot changes. Beware: this story may be different than the one you originally read. If I may be frank, this version should be much more cohesive. Obviously I don't own Harry Potter... or Dean Thomas, as much as I'd bloody like too.

Bloody friggen hell. Do not trip you blubbering whale. Embarrassing yourself in front of everyone in the bloody dining hall and then bloody tripping would really ice it all. And for goodness sakes, stop huffing and puffing, this isn't a bloody marathon. Deep breaths, you're a prefect. Deep, even breaths, and then once you get up to the dormitory you can throw around that tennis ball Petunia sent you for your birthday last year.

As I pass through the heavy doors at the end of the entrance hall, I feel my breath even out a bit. Much better, for cardiac arrest was imminent if I continued at that extended pace.

"Evans! Evans! C'mon Evans, just slow down."


"Evans, I'm serious here!"

At this I turn abruptly, my hands shaking violently.

He's on the house team and they play Ravenclaw tomorrow. If you hit him he might suffer extensive damage that would jeopardize his ability to play. Be rational. Don't even think about hitting him.

I suppose it would be fair to assume I turned much to abruptly for his Chaser reflexes, and that his immediate reaction to fall into me just a little, so that his arms grasped my shoulders roughly, was only a reflex and by no means a come on, and that my reaction to his touch was to push him back in an equally rough manner was thus excused. There. No harm, no foul.

"Hi." His half-smirk makes me clench my fists.

"You can't keep doing this you know."

"Doing what?" He looks as if he'll attempt to touch me again, but I'm too quick. My wand nudges his chin gently.

"Bugger off with the innocent charade. I know it's been tough for them lately but I'm a prefect and they're Gryffindors. If they can't keep the hexing to themselves I'll have to start deducting serious points."

His face hardened. "Evans, I don't think you understand..."

"I'm not a cow, Potter. I recognize that this is a unique situation and that they can hardly be blamed. But considering what I know you and Peter are capable of magically, by no means should they be taking it out on the whole Slytherin house."

"Not the whole...."

"Edith Parkinson, first year. Yuri Zebster, second year. Francis Rosier, second year.."

"You don't know what you're talking about Evans! You can't help them."

This time my eyes harden. "They'll get themselves expelled Potter! And then what happens? Hogwarts is all they have right now, we both know that."

"I don't know what you think you're talking about."

"Shut up! I'm not a bloody friggen cow! I know, Potter."

"NO YOU..."

I grab his hand quickly, my wand dropping to my side as I pulled him down the corridor and into the broom closet that fifth years frequently got caught snogging in. If he knew this he didn't say anything.

My breath comes quickly again as a whisper Lumos and drop his sweaty palm quickly. I murmur, "Lycanthropy. Lycanthropy and Death Eaters and illegal animagi."

His silence briefly bothers me, and the bereft sensation in my hand leaves me quite confused, and yet as I watch his face closely, I notice his impressed expression indignantly.

"You thought I was just annoying you because I'm a prefect?"


"You think I wasn't taking this seriously? You prick, of course I'm taking this seriously. Much to my dismay I am quite found of the Marauders and greatly dislike the idea of taking off points when we've already raced ahead! Not to mention how horrible it is to have you four acting mature when for the past five years I've grown accustomed to your foolery and tricks."

If I was surprised by his impressed look before, his satisfied grin now infuriated me.

"Have I told you lately that you're the most brilliant, compassionate girl in the whole wide world Lily Evans?"

"No, no you haven't!"

"And that I will surely be talking with Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black about hexing anyone below fourth year. We Marauders may be prone to devilish good looks and pranking, but we never pick on those who can't defend themselves properly." He nods, as if acknowledging the solemn nature of this task, his hazel eyes twinkling.

Before I can stop him, he's squeezing my hand.

"Potter, while Dorcas Meadowes may find you charming, I reassure you that I am yet to suffer the same delusions." I grin teasingly before ripping my hand away. "Don't forget to mention that they'd best keep away from the entire Slytherin house. They don't seem to be as amused by the pranks as the rest of us."

"Of course." He opened the door of the closet and followed me out.

I barely hid my surprise at his quick acquisition, but I didn't press the matter. "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow in Potions?"


I scoff almost immediately. "Nice try."

"C'mon, Evans. At least sit with me at breakfast. Remus and Sirius will want to talk to you about our discussion tonight." His voice lowered as two Hufflepuffs raced down the corridor. Looking up at him through his glasses, I could see his eternally hopeful smile.

"I really can't."

He sighed dramatically. "I suppose that's okay. They'll be terribly disappointed."

"G'night Potter!" I called as the corridor began to crowd and we headed in separate directions; him back to the kitchens and I to the common room.

"Sweet dreams Evans! Oi, before I forget...." He shouted in response.

"I'm quite sorry but I have a date with a certain Giant Squid!" I spotted his friends as they met up with him, knowing the response he'd give.

"You break my heart, but I'll have you yet!"