Rams at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts, Crystal Lake, a warm evening in the last week of June. The air is like baked milk, smells of mown grass and freedom, five days left until departure.

You're lying under an old birch tree, lost in Murder on the Orient Express, when the idyll is shattered.

The castle doors burst open, and the entire four Marauders spill out onto the lawn. James and Sirius, flushed from their latest run-in with Filch, compete to see who can whistle the loudest, imitating a steam locomotive. Peter tries to cartwheel, and Remus (with a book in his mouth, which he was clearly carrying for James) grins wearily, trying to calm them down.

With them are Lily and Marlin. Lily is excitedly proving something to Sirius, gesturing, and Marlin, throwing his head back, laughs so loudly that the echo carries across the water.

You see them before they see you. You're in the shade of a birch tree, the only motionless object in this explosive movement.

At one point, Sirius Black's gaze, gliding across the lake, catches your white vest, and then rises to your face. The laughter vanishes from his face instantly. He nudges James with his elbow.

"Hey, Potter," Sirius's voice sounds unusually even, drowning out the noise, "we have an audience here."

James turns around. For a few seconds, there's that awkward silence that happens when a noisy group stumbles upon someone who doesn't fit in. Lily peers curiously at your scars, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. Marlene stops laughing and simply stares, her mouth slightly open. Remus seems to recognize you as the one who often sits in the far corner of the library but never looks up.