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The room was in chaos. Magical gadgets and stationery and potions supplies scattered across the floor; textbooks teetering in precarious stacks; the bed all but buried under rumpled clothes as sixteen-year-old Sirius Black sorted through anything remotely important that he owned. His hands shook with adrenaline and fear, fumbling as he struggled to fit an entire life into a single bag. On top of it, he didn’t have much time: Regulus and his parents might have retired to their bedrooms, but who knew if or when Bella might return with more Death Eaters? He had to get to the fireplace connected to the Floo Network – down in the kitchen – and he had to get there immediately. His hands quickened, shoving only essentials into his drawstring bag, mostly school things. He could worry about anything else once he was safe.As soon as the last pair of uniform trousers disappeared into the cloth, Sirius hastily slung his bag over a shoulder. He paused to survey the room, ensure he hadn’t forgotten anything. His little act of rebellion from the first day back from Hogwarts that summer – sprawling letters inked into the wall above his bed – made him exhale a half-hysterical laugh in spite of it all; it would look deliberate, once they discovered he’d gone. Would seem like he’d taken the time to leave a parting message:
STICKS AND STONES CAN BREAK MY BONES, BUT YOU CAN’T TAKE MY ROCK AND ROLL.
Merlin, the irony. Sirius felt something almost manic catch in his throat.He’d had no idea it would come to this, when he’d scribbled those lyrics out for the heck of it last night. The second he and Regulus had arrived at their doorstep, he’d been whisked away by an eager Kreacher and brought before his mother. That was expected; he’d already braced for it. Punishment for sneaking out last summer, then more for making a joke out of Mother’s Howler in front of the entire school. He’d braced for it; even up to being shoved into his bedroom, wrists still stinging from the cane, and locked in without food and water – it was why he’d already stocked up from the trolley back on the Hogwarts Express.He’d thought the most he’d have to contend with was boredom again. Had idled away the time for a while, unpacking, snacking, even taking a nap. Had, at some point, vandalised the walls with those eerily prescient words – Professor Rallis, his Divination teacher, would have been proud, he thought wryly. He’d barely panicked when nobody turned up to let him out earlier this morning, which would have been bizarrely optimistic to hope for, anyway. Hadn’t mattered; he’d taken the opportunity to get a head-start on summer homework, called up James on the two-way mirror once the clock had chimed a more reasonable hour. To add to it, James had been at a Quidditch match, which was even better – like getting a free ticket.And then evening had arrived, bringing with it the crack of someone Apparating in: Kreacher.“What?” Sirius had demanded coolly, hardly glancing up from the textbook he’d been reading.“The mistress requires young master’s presence downstairs,” Kreacher had returned, equally as snide, and then wrapped forceful claws around Sirius’s wrist – probably on purpose, the sadistic little demon, aware that the weals Mother had left behind would hurt to the touch – dragging Sirius off his bed and out of the room.Sirius still hadn’t anticipated anything unusual. The most he could remember thinking about at that point was how glad he was that he’d iced his skin, so hadn’t given Kreacher the satisfaction of a hiss or a wince when the house-elf had grabbed him like that.He’d been herded along the corridor, down the steps. Had already been able to hear voices coming from the drawing room before they’d even reached the landing: his father’s voice, oddly low for once, bordering on sycophantic.“—Our allegiance has never been in question, my lord. Anything, whatever you require.”The other voice he’d never heard before; a rasping, cold, unnervingly smooth thing. “Power requires resources, Orion. We are building an army, and armies cannot be sustained by ideals alone. Your wealth is vast… years of careful management, strategic marriages and alliances… you have amassed a fortune that rivals most in the wizarding world. It is only right that it should be used to further the vision, cleanse our world of the impure and restore it to its rightful order… is it not?”“Of course.” Father had sounded eager, fairly leapt to respond. “Our vaults are at your disposal. Whatever you need, the Black family will provide. We have always defended the old ways – we will not falter now.”“There you have it, my lord,” and Sirius had recognised that half-simpering, half-maniacal cackle: Bellatrix. “As I swore to you. We are ever yours.”Even presently, Sirius couldn’t say why he hadn’t put two and two together from that much. Maybe it was just the sort of thing that seemed so unlikely as to be impossible. Whatever the case, when they’d reached the bottom of the stairs, and Kreacher had pushed him into the drawing room, he’d recoiled in shock.The space had been dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tightly shut. Bella had been sitting on one of the sofas, alright, with an air of palpable smugness. Beside her, a tall figure dressed in dark robes… a man… or something like one. His presence had seemed to suck the very air from the room, making it difficult to breathe. His skin had looked so waxy and slick he was like a corpse, and his eyes, when he’d turned his head at the intrusion, had been an unnatural red.It had only taken the one look to have Sirius’s knees all but buckle; everything inside of Sirius screaming at him to run. The man had felt dangerous, more than. He’d exuded evil, as though his very aura was made of dark magic.Voldemort, Sirius had thought. Had to be. Voldemort, there, in his house.He’d frozen. It was one thing to say the name defiantly among his friends. To make all those brazen jokes. Faced with the actual monster, however, Sirius had hardly been able to move.Kreacher had needed to shove him forward, then Disapparated. Sirius had stumbled, his heart pounding in his chest— and found himself standing beside his brother. There’d been tension visible in Regulus’s posture as well, the way his shoulders hunched slightly, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. But he’d been staring straight ahead, face expressionless, if pale.It was testament to how overwhelming Voldemort’s presence was that Sirius had barely noticed his mother. Not until her skeletal fingers had curled around his arm with their usual vicelike grip, dragging him closer to his brother as if she were showing off an expensive set of salt cellars and needed the matching pair. “My sons, my lord,” she’d said, her hoarse voice high with obscene excitement for once. “Two pure-blood heirs, devoted and ready to serve your noble cause. I would be honoured to dedicate them to your service.”Sirius had been able to feel the sharpness of her nails against the skin at the back of his neck, a silent but clear warning not to contradict her. His heart racing, he’d glanced at his father – who, in turn, had remained silent, his eyes dark with that familiar look he always turned on his wife: disapproval. Maybe even shame.But it’d been too late to stop her latest mad impulse, even for him.“Ah,” Voldemort had said, eerily soft, his gaze flickering over Sirius and Regulus with interest. “The future of the house of Black. How fitting that they should be here to witness this alliance.”Mother’s grip on Sirius had tightened, her nails digging into his flesh as she’d beamed. Her voice had been trembling with unabashed, unrestrained emotion: “It would be our greatest pleasure to have them serve you—”“—One day, my lord,” Father had cut in immediately, with an expression that Sirius supposed might have been a tight smile, he’d never seen the man smile so couldn’t say for certain. “As soon as they’d have acquired the skill to be of use to you and your army.”“Are they not of age?” Voldemort’s disconcerting eyes had lingered on them both, appraising, calculating. It’d been suffocating; Sirius had heard the blood pounding in his ears, felt the thrum of panic build in his chest. Regulus had been perfectly still beside him.Then… then Voldemort had risen, taken step after closer step, his movements fluid, like a serpent slithering across the floor. His voice, when he spoke, had been deceptively gentle: “Pity,” he’d murmured, gaze still fixed on them. “Such potential.”And he’d tilted his head slightly, a motion so small it could have been mistaken for a flicker of curiosity. “Bow,” he’d said, commanding, but almost amused – as though testing them. “Show me this… devotion that your mother pledges you carry.”There had been no hesitation from Regulus. Without a word, he’d dropped to one knee, head bowed, the movement graceful and precise, as if he had been practicing for this moment his entire life.The room had seemed to hold its breath – watching, waiting.But Sirius had stayed rooted to the spot, despite his mother’s grip burning into his neck. His heart had been hammering against his ribs, every instinct begging him to comply— but something he couldn’t rationalise had helped him stay upright.He had felt Mother’s nails prick even deeper, stinging, her breath hot and furious against his ear— but he hadn’t moved.The air between them had been crackling with tension, as if the entire world had paused to watch this singular moment, to see how it would unfold.Bella’s eyebrows had lifted toward her hairline. “Don’t be rude, Sirius,” she’d gritted through a forced, toothy grin.“Sirius,” Father had warned, as well.Sirius had lifted his chin as defiantly as he dared. Swallowed down the trepidation. “I gather nobody’s told you,” he’d managed, even though he couldn’t stand to actually meet Voldemort’s eyes as he’d said it, “But I’m a Gryffindor. We don’t bow— especially not to the likes of you.”He wished he could say that he’d been stony-faced, that he’d spat the words out. The reality was that his voice had been trembling as much as his body, and hardly louder than a whisper. He’d clenched his jaw, but that hadn’t stopped his breath from coming faster, his eyes from faltering with real terror.It was that the fear hadn’t mattered. Nor Mother’s pinch. He’d finally looked at Voldemort anyway. Stood his ground anyway.The room had fallen into a dead silence, the sort that made the air itself feel loaded, oppressive. Every eye had been fixed on Sirius, and he’d practically felt the barely concealed fury from his family – only Regulus, turning his head up slightly to stare, looked shocked.For a heartbeat, even Voldemort hadn’t spoken, his slit-like eyes narrowing as he appraised Sirius head to toe.Sirius had stood as still as a statue. Refused to squirm under his gaze. Voldemort, smiling slowly, had said, “Blood traitors among one of our most ancient families? Surely not.”“No! No, my lord, he does not speak for us,” Mother had lurched forward, fervent. Turning outraged eyes on Sirius: “You dare, you ungrateful— shameful little—”“Dumbledore currently misleads the students at that school,” Father had agreed, “I-I assure you—”“But why has Dumbledore been able to infect a scion of this great house?” Voldemort had questioned serenely. “It’s still… quite the disgrace.”Bella had blanched, her expression crestfallen – embarrassed – until she’d turned to Sirius, at which point it’d been quickly replaced by utter hatred.“Forgive me, my lord!” Mother had dropped to her knees – the plea in her voice had sounded uncomfortably close to a sob.“I assure you, his insolence will be more than corrected,” Father had continued, spitting it out, glaring at Sirius.It’d been easier to glower back at them, to straighten his spine.Bella had stood off the sofa, too, lips pursed. She’d twirled her wand between her fingers as she’d purred, “Leave it to me, uncle. I’ll remind him of his manners.”Sirius had known what was coming. It’d been no surprise to him and Regulus, when Bellatrix had developed a reputation as an expert in one specific Unforgiveable Curse. The sadistic things she would put the brothers through as children, in the name of “sport” – it was just inevitable.Sirius had known… but that hadn’t helped anything. Not one bit.
“Crucio!”
The pain had hit him like a bolt of lightning, a searing, unbearable agony that’d ripped through his body, turning his muscles to fire and his bones to molten lead. It had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced – pure, undiluted torment that had obliterated every coherent thought in his mind. He’d dropped to his knees instantly, unable to stop the scream that tore from his throat, his entire body convulsing under the force of the curse.The room had started spinning around him, a blur of faces and voices that barely registered past the haze. He’d fought to hold on, to not give Bella the satisfaction of seeing him break, but this was nothing like the old “games.” The pain had consumed him entirely.Through it all, he’d heard her laughter, high and mocking, as she’d hovered over where he was writhing on the floor. “Bow, Sirius,” she’d taunted, cutting through the agony like a blade. “Show your respect, cousin. That’s it.”Sirius had gritted his teeth, every fibre of his being screeching in protest as he’d tried to fight back, tried to stay somewhat upright – on his knees at least. But the pain had been too much, too intense. With a final, broken cry, he’d collapsed fully to the ground, his body trembling uncontrollably.He’d heard Bella laugh harder as if from a distance, a sound that echoed long after the curse had finally lifted, leaving him lying there on the floor, gasping for breath, barely able to move.And throughout— throughout all of that— Regulus had only watched. He’d remained on his knee, hadn’t said a word, raised a hand. Nothing.Only watched.Sirius’s eyes – already wet from the pain – had fixed on him in disbelief. Remember when I took more pins from her, when we were four and six? So you wouldn’t have to? he’d thought, half-delirious.Voldemort’s voice had registered from a thousand miles away. “—More than enough, Bellatrix. Shame to kill him… so much pure blood has already been needlessly spilt because of the traitors.” Then footsteps, movement. Sirius’s vision had been too blurry to identify more than shapes and colours, by that point. “The loyalty of the rest of the house of Black has been noted. I trust you can manage your… unfortunate exception… among yourselves.”“We swear it, my lord.” Father’s voice.“—Young… misguided…” (Bellatrix’s.) “He’ll be made to remember his place…”Sirius couldn’t recall much after that – he might have briefly lost consciousness, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that when he’d been aware of his surroundings once more, both Voldemort and Bella had gone. Regulus was on his feet; Father yelling at Mother.Sirius, still on the floor.“—You have disgraced this family tonight, Walburga! Summoning that here—” as if Sirius hadn’t even been worth the name, “—When you should have known he would not behave as you wish— what were you thinking!? If Bellatrix hadn’t been here, we’d have offended the Dark Lord beyond redemption! Do you want this house marked for traitors? And you—” At which point Sirius had felt his father’s rough hands grabbing him by the arm, forcing him upright— “You embarrassment upon the name of Black— don’t for a second think you’ve won something here. You will never get the chance to relay this to your blood traitor company – you will never set foot outside of this house again. Kreacher!”The house-elf had materialised. Father had ordered, “Take this piece of filth back where he came from, and keep him there.” He’d leaned forward enough that Sirius could see the hatred in his eyes clearly: “I know how you think, you pest. But you won’t be taking this to the Aurors. You won’t even be going back to that infernal school.”And Kreacher had marched him back up the stairs before Sirius even found the time to regain his strength after that ordeal, let alone to wrap his head around what had just transpired.He’d been shoved onto the carpet, the door locked behind him. Had hyperventilated briefly. Fumbled for his mirror, alerted James—Now here he was, standing in the middle of a half-empty bedroom, everything feeling unreal… he’d never be seeing this again.He turned— and knelt in front of the door. Slipped the penknife that James had given him for Christmas out of his pocket, easing the blade along the crack of the lock.It opened easily.He walked out.Mr Potter’s instructions had been clear – they’d be waiting by the Floo, on their end, but they’d also sent Hit Wizards to the Apparition Point at the end of the street, the only spot it’d be possible for other wizards to lurk around Grimmauld Place at all. It would be difficult, near impossible, to prove anything related to Voldemort and Bellatrix, but all the same, if Sirius didn’t turn up at the Potters’ by their specified time, the Hit Wizards had been told to assume he’d been harmed, and to enter the building by force if they had to.That wasn’t the ideal option, and Sirius knew it. The wizarding world had none of the abuse laws that the Muggle one did. Sirius knew the only reason the Ministry had complied was because the Potters held sway; even then, the most that the Hit Wizards would be able to do would be intervene if – and only if – Sirius was visibly under attack. Preferably with dark magic, at that.It left too much to chance – he needed to Floo over. That was simply the better bet.Every step felt like a test of willpower, his body still weak and trembling from the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. The corridors of Grimmauld Place were as dark and oppressive as ever, but now they seemed to close in on him altogether – like the walls themselves knew he was trying to flee and were conspiring against it. Every creak of the floorboards set his heart racing, every shadow in the corners felt like an eye watching his every move…Sirius moved quietly, his breath shallow, the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. He tried to keep his mind focused despite the pain and exhaustion clouding his thoughts: Merlin, how did Moony manage this every single month? His body ached with every step, and yet he forced himself to keep going, knowing that stopping wasn’t an option.He reached the top of the stairs, then paused, his hand resting on the banister as he glanced back down the corridor. Regulus’s door was closed – as it always was – but tonight it felt more like a barrier than ever. Sirius stared at it, heart heavy with betrayal: how could his brother just stand by and watch while he suffered? Eyes hard – as if Sirius were some stranger? How could he kneel before that madman without a second thought— they were supposed to be blood, supposed to look out for one another, but Regulus had evidently chosen his side. The family’s side.The realisation hit him like a physical blow, and he had to tear his eyes away from that unyielding wooden frame.There was nothing left for him here. Not anymore.He continued toward the kitchen, his last hope of escape. Each step downward felt as if he was journeying deeper into a pit, but he forced himself on. He made it to the bottom of the staircase without making much noise, or being accosted. When he finally crossed the threshold into the kitchen, the familiar scent of damp stone and old wood hit him. The room with its flickering hearth and worn countertops had never felt like such a lifeline before.But then he heard it: a noise behind him, soft but unmistakeable, like the rustle of fabric in the dark. He froze, heart leaping into his throat. Slowly, he turned, dread coiling in his stomach like a snake:He found himself staring into the furious eyes of his mother.Her face was twisted with rage, her sharp features even more severe in the dim light of the late hour. Her eyes, wild and unblinking as ever, bore into him with a venomous intensity that made his skin crawl. She advanced on him with a predatory grace, her voice low and dripping with malice as she hissed, “And where are you off to, wretch? You dare defy orders after what you’ve done? After the shame you’ve brought upon me, upon this family?”Sirius’s heart pounded in his chest. He instinctively backed away, eyes darting to the fireplace where the tin of Floo powder sat on the mantel. He made a desperate lunge for it, hand trembling with urgency— but Mother was quicker. Before he could react, she leapt at him with a speed that belied her frail appearance, bony fingers clamping down on his elbow like a vice. Sirius tried to struggle, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but her grip was unyielding. Her nails, sharp and unrelenting, dug into his skin, sending sharp jolts of pain up his arm as she tried to drag him away from the fireplace. Her voice rose in a shrill, furious shriek:“You’re not going anywhere! Back to your room, or it’ll be the cellar for an entire—!”Determination surged through Sirius like a tidal wave. There was nothing for it. With a wild, frantic motion, he made a flail with his free hand— knocking the tin of Floo powder from the mantel.It clattered to the floor with a sharp noise, the lid popping off, spilling the sparkling dust out in a shimmering cloud.The powder caught in the air— glittered in the low light— and, as soon as some of it touched the fireplace, green flames roared to life with an eager whoosh.The sudden flare of light and heat stunned his mother for just an instant— enough of one that Sirius could seize it with every ounce of strength he had left.With a forceful shove, he managed to shake her off, her nails leaving sharp, stinging trails on his skin. Sirius barely had time to leap into the flames, his mind racing, heart pounding: “Eldertree Dwelling!” he shouted.But she was faster than he’d anticipated. Her hand shot out. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his robes as the flames engulfed them both. Sirius felt a sickening lurch as the world around him blurred and twisted, and even past the familiar whirlpool-sensation of travelling through the Floo Network, realisation struck – his mother was coming with him.The next thing he knew, they were tumbling out of the fireplace in the Potters’ drawing room. Sirius hit the floor hard, the breath knocked out of him… and Mother’s grip remained, iron-tight on his robes.Thank Merlin, Morgana, and all of the Founders that the Potters had been waiting as planned. Sirius barely had time to register the warmth of the room, or panic about his mother – James was there before he could do any of it, eyes wide behind his glasses, grip ironclad as he yanked Sirius to his feet and pulled him close, shielding him.Behind them, Mother loomed like a dark wraith, the crackling fireplace still flaring green behind her, casting an eerie flickering glow that made her silhouette seem even more menacing. The air felt suddenly colder, despite the fire, as if her presence had sucked the homeliness out of the atmosphere.The Potters’ sharp gasps of “Sirius!” barely registered in his mind – drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. His mother had drawn her wand, pointing it directly at his heart. Her eyes were blazing.Before Sirius could even think to move, Mr and Mrs Potter were rushing forward, their own wands leaping into their hands with the speed of deep-seated instinct. They placed themselves firmly between the boys and Walburga Black, their stances tense, battle-ready.“Don’t you dare,” Mrs Potter warned, her voice edged with a deadly gravitas that Sirius had never heard from her before. She angled her wand upward slightly, as if to nudge at Mother’s chin.Mr Potter, on the other hand, sounded deceptively calm. “Walburga.” Like he was simply acknowledging an unwelcome guest. “You’re in my home now. I’d advise you to step away.”Mother didn’t seem to have heard, or else didn’t care. Her gaze stayed fixed on Sirius, her wand trembling – a deep fury in it that made her muscles quiver. The lines on her face pulled tight as she sneered: “You want to turn from us?” —Shrill, venomous, cutting through the air like a blade.She raised her wand higher. The tip began to glow with a sickly green light. “Very well. I should have done this a long time ago.”Sirius could only stare. The world around him seemed to blur, the sounds of the room muffled as if he was underwater… he barely registered the sharp flick of Mr Potter’s wand as he instantly disarmed her, instantly sent Mother’s flying from her grip— that light, the light from the half-cast spell, lingered in his vision, burnt into his mind.It had all happened in less than a second, yet— in that fleeting moment— Sirius had seen it. The colour. The way her lips had started to form an obvious syllable: “Av—”His mind reeled. Surely not— surely not, but— but yes. She had. His own mother had nearly—It knocked the breath out of his lungs. His chest tightened. A wave of emotion surged through his body, so intense it threatened to unsteady him. He could still feel the coldness of her hands on his robes, the sharp sting where her nails had dug into his skin, but even they paled in comparison to the icy realisation of what she had been about to do.Hadn’t she ever loved him once? Just once? She’d held him as a baby. Surely. Surely she must have done at least that.And now… now she’d almost ended that life with nothing more than a flick of her wand. As if it was nothing. As if he was nothing.“…Mum?” The word slipped from his lips in a broken whisper, trembling with disbelief. His eyes locked onto hers, searching her face, hoping, pleading for any trace of regret – any sign that she might not have meant it.But all he found in her cold, dark gaze was the same old seething fury, a hatred so deep and consuming it cut through him like a knife.There was no pain in her expression, no remorse. Not even the slightest glimmer of a woman who might have once cared for him, at least as a child, at least then.Nothing but utter loathing, an icy void where a heart should have been.His vision blurred, tears welling in his eyes, stinging as he fought to hold them back. He wouldn’t— couldn’t— let her see how deeply this had shattered him, but, the hurt was too overwhelming, too intense to contain, and entirely beyond his will the words spilt out, raw and fierce:“I hate you!” Anguished, voice cracking under the weight of the emotion. “I hate you! Go away! Just get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”He only realised he’d tried to lunge forward when he felt James’s arms tighten around him, holding him at bay with a firm, protective grip.Mother didn’t even flinch. She just stood there, unmoving, her expression as stony as ever, no trace of humanity in it. The cold, unfeeling mask of a woman who had long since abandoned any semblance of love or maternal instinct.Sirius could only untangle one emotion out of the chaos swirling inside of him: despair.Mr Potter’s voice remained, somehow, steady. “I think Sirius has made it clear what he wants, Walburga. Please do as he says.” Despite the evenness of the tone, there was a steely resolve in his eyes, and the tight grip he held on his wand left no doubt that he was prepared to back his words with action.Mrs Potter had already picked up Mother’s discarded wand, her own expression hard as flint. She made the smart choice – tossed it into the flames that still roared behind them, sending it back to Grimmauld Place without its owner.“Leave now, or you’ll find out exactly how far we’d be willing to go to protect our children,” she warned.“He is mine,” Mother hissed. Not “my son,” but “mine,” as if Sirius was no better than property.“And this house is mine,” Mr Potter countered smoothly, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s an old one, Walburga… much older magic than you’d be aware of, I’m afraid. Sirius has always had an open invitation, whereas you do not. You’re trespassing.”There was a palpable shift in the atmosphere – a crackle of magic that seemed to resonate from the very walls. Like the tree housing them itself had awakened, responding to the intruder with a silent, invisible warning.The air felt heavier, charged with latent power – Sirius’s skin prickled with the awareness of it. Even Mother blanched, her eyes widening slightly, as she appeared to sense the change, too. The realisation that she was in enemy territory, wandless, outnumbered, and with the very house itself turning against her, appeared to dawn at last. For a brief moment, Sirius thought she might try it anyway – curse him right there in the Potters’ drawing room, consequences be damned…But something shifted in her expression, a flicker of doubt, or perhaps fear, as the enormity of her situation dawned on her. The cold, calculating side of her nature seemed to win out over the madness. She clearly understood she was beaten, at least for now.“This isn’t over,” she spat, laced with venom. Her eyes burnt with the promise of future retribution.Then, with a sharp crack, she Disapparated, leaving behind only an echo of her rage, although it lingered in the air for a while after she’d gone.The room fell silent. For a long moment, no one moved. James was the first to break it, finally relaxing his hold on Sirius. His voice faltered, tentative, as he asked, “Are you okay?”Sirius couldn’t answer immediately. His mind was still racing, the aftershock of the encounter leaving him numb and hollow. Everything felt distant, like he was watching it all from behind a thick pane of glass. Voldemort, Bellatrix, Regulus, the coldness of Mother’s eyes on him— all echoing in his head, refusing to fade.It wasn’t until James set a steadying hand on his shoulder that Sirius managed a small, shaky nod, even if he wasn’t entirely sure that it was honest.Mrs Potter moved, then, with a cautious urgency, stepping between Sirius and James. She pulled Sirius to her, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, guiding him away from the fireplace. “It’s over, dear,” she murmured. “She won’t— can’t— hurt you anymore.”The words were a balm… but they also broke through the last of his defences. The dam that he’d been holding back for so long finally burst, and Sirius collapsed against her, his legs giving way as the full weight of everything he’d just endured came crashing down.He couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked his body, each one tearing through him with a force that left him gasping for breath. Anger, grief, betrayal; all the pain he’d buried pouring out of him in a raw, unfiltered torrent.Mrs Potter held him tighter, her hand smoothing over his hair in a soothing gesture, murmuring soft words of comfort that he couldn’t quite hear over the sound of his own anguish. James was beside them, too; Sirius felt the hand that he placed on his shoulder, squeezing gently.“We’ve got you now,” he said. “You’re safe.”Safe.The promise settled in Sirius’s heart, leaving him trembling – relief and exhaustion all at once.Mr Potter, who’d been standing by the door, silent but vigilant, cleared his throat softly. The sound drew all eyes to him, and he offered Sirius a reassuring nod before speaking. “I need to step out and have another word with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” he said quietly, his voice steady but gentle. “I’ve disconnected the Floo from Grimmauld Place, but all the same, try not to answer the door until I’ve returned, Effie. Lyall and Hope and Susan are on the way, so I’m sure the boys will be along, too – the more wands, the better.”A spark of gladness flickered in Sirius’s heart, in response, despite it all; he wanted to see Moony. That was exactly what he needed.“Stay alert,” said Mr Potter. “I won’t be long.”With one final, reassuring pat on Sirius’s shoulder as he passed, he slipped out altogether. Mrs Potter tightened her hold, guiding Sirius gently toward the nearest armchair: “Come, now, let’s sit you down…”Each step was an effort, but he allowed himself to be led. She and James eased him down, onto soft cushions, and Mrs Potter called for tea. James never left Sirius’s side, eyes deeply sombre as he promised, “Never again. They’ll never get you again.”The words wrapped around him, like a protective charm. The warmth of James’s hand on his shoulder, the solid presence of Mrs Potter close by, and the promise of seeing the rest of his loved ones soon – all of it began to seep into his bones, slowly but surely driving out the bewilderment, fear, and anguish that had been gripping him.Sirius exhaled, for what felt like the first time in years. It was a risk, he knew, but he allowed himself to believe them.
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27 July 1976Dear Moony,Or “Moony dear,” if you prefer. Hullo, you – thanks so, so much for the last letter and I’m very sorry it’s taken me this many weeks to respond. I promised you a nice long one I know, but the Potters are trying to cram a lifetime’s worth of holidaying into this singular summer for me, I swear – we’ve been all around the world, it feels like, though I know it isn’t true. I think what it is, is aunty wants to distract me from, you know. Prongs isn’t exactly complaining, so here we are.Where even is “here,” you might ask? Well, Spain, at the moment. Prongs is writing you as well, so I’ll leave the details to him. We probably won’t be to yours at all, at this rate. Nor Wormtail’s either, in fairness, but I want to see youuu. Was September always eternities away? And I miss London too. Not that nightmare of a house! The city, I mean. There’s only so much unprompted politeness one can accept as guileless before one begins to wonder if every stranger they meet isn’t secretly hiding something sinister – “one” being me, in this scenario.I’ll get that flat next year, I’ve got to. Everything here is odd. Wonderful, but odd. I keep letting on my upbringing by mistake. Did you know that the Potters eat together regardless of whether they’ve got guests over or not? Well, you must know. Your family’s normal. I thought they only did that when we were about. Accidentally made poor Priya scramble when I turned up for lunch all by myself. Do you see what I mean there?Merlin, I must sound like the rudest, most ungrateful knob right now. Living with the Potters is heavenly, it really is. It also happens to be a change, is all… and taking quite some getting used to on my part.But enough about all that – I hope you and yours are doing alright. I know you said so, but there was all that worry, as well. So sweet of you, by the way – I’m fine, I promise. Andromeda and Uncle Alphard have written to check on me too. She’s still reluctant about us actually meeting, which I reckon is smart anyway, they’ve got a brat now apparently. I do get not wanting to tempt Bellatrix with that. On the other hand he plans to – meet, that is, he said Hogsmeade after term starts. Should be safe enough, but I suppose we’ll see.I’ve been obsessed with yet another Muggle band, they’re called Queen, I’m sure you’ve heard them all over the radio. I can’t pin them down, they’re like Sweet if Sweet was elevated? A more mature Slade with the grandeur of Zeppelin? Although I suppose ‘Good Company’ is more The Kinks. Those aren’t guitars they’ve got, I swear… they’re a cascade of magic. I think you’d agree, because if you liked ‘The Battle of Evermore’ (which I know you did) then you’re bound to like ‘My Fairy King,’ and ‘Seven Seas of Rhye,’ and all of it. It’s got narrative, Moony – you know you can’t resist the narrative.I’m not going to bore you by waffling on about my latest fixations, don’t worry, that was only to explain why I’ve sent you a record with this letter. Not to keep, mind, I’ll have it back at school and thank-you-very-much, I just wanted you to have a listen. Especially to the track called ‘Now I’m Here.’ Do you still fancy me, Moony? (Send me a kiss if so → x, like that.) If not, pretend I never dedicated a song to you, and I’ll try very hard not to show how utterly embarrassed I’d be for having done it at all. As for me I still feel the same as I did in June, just to set the record – as it were – straight.(Or rather, the opposite of straight, I suppose?)And now I really am embarrassed. Don’t know what else to say… missing you! Missing you lots. If your mum and dad ask about the warning on the envelope – about you reading this in private, I mean – just pretend it’s to do with some Marauderly secret. A complicated prank we’re plotting.Talking of your parents, do give them my best, and please thank them for being there after that fuss early on – I don’t think I remembered to. (I was rather shell-shocked at the time.) I really appreciated it, and your mum was right about the laws. I can’t wait to live among Muggles, they sound like they’ve got a lot worked out that we still haven’t – like basic bloody child safety.It’s funny, I haven’t actually got anything left to write about, but I don’t want to stop “talking” to you, either.Ah, how were your OWL results? Prongs and I have both got nine OWLs apiece, but guess what – he had a P in Divination! Ha! Please never let him live that one down. I’ve got more O’s as well but that isn’t worth taking the piss about, it’s all to do with my freakish memory and Prongs not even bothering on the subjects he wasn’t interested in, besides which that prat still managed E’s in those ones anyway, so it’d be pointless. My dud was Herbology, in case you’re wondering – an ‘A,’ oh the shame.(Picking this up hours later—) There really isn’t more, damn. I’ll just be counting down the days until we see each other again.With love (actually), yourPadfoot30 July 1976Dear Padfoot,Hullo right back. That’s quite alright, about the delay, I’d guessed you and Prongs would be preoccupied. Judging by his letter you’ve been having a lot of fun. I’m glad. I’m not sure what you’re worried about missing out on here in the (pardon my French) arse end of nowhere compared to the places you’ve been, but rest assured mum says the two of you are more than welcome to visit over the winter holidays instead, if you’re that keen on it.Drive up to Liverpool if you’re missing London so much – they’ve got the same evil, chaotic magic at their core. Did I say evil? Sorry, I meant “happening” in Sirius Black.I think it’s perfectly understandable that you’re having trouble adjusting. It must be different. Not having to look over your shoulder, for once. You’re on my mind – you always are, but I mean especially in that regard. I wish I had the words to convey exactly how I feel there, but you’ll have to settle for a hug once we’re able to.You don’t bore me and I retain a lot more of your musical rhapsodies (look, I even noticed the pun) than you think… however, I’m going to have to let you down on one of your points; the only reason I like ‘The Battle of Evermore’ is because of Tolkien, I’m afraid.XXXXXX and multiply it times infinityLovely song. You’re too generous about me. I’ve got one for you, ‘It’s Always You’ by Chet Baker, although you’ll have to find it on your own.Every time I read this letter back I feel I sound at best dull and at worst curt. How did you manage to make yours so eloquent? You haven’t written a love letter before either. (I hope I can call it that. Bother, now I’m embarrassed too.) My old letters to you were a lot warmer than this, you’d think it’d be the other way round. Don’t take it to heart that my response to Prongs’s will be a bit longer, I can’t seem to remember how to tell you anything anymore, all of a sudden.You’re just a natural at everything you pick up I suppose, and talking of which congratulations on the OWLs. I’ve got seven: three O’s and four E’s, and the E’s in mostly theory-heavy subjects; History, Muggle Studies, Runes (discount Herbology). Which doesn’t bode well for a teaching career, does it? And I won’t have a leg to stand on regarding making fun of Prongs, actually – I’ve got a D in Potions! Wormy was absolutely gutted about his results, but even he hasn’t got a single D. Will never be able to look Professor Slughorn in the eye again.Have relayed your thanks to the parents; mum says you’re a sweetheart but shouldn’t feel the need to, dad used some very rude words about your relations (I hate to call them your ‘family’). I’ve never heard him swear before, it was hilarious. Cheers for that. I agree with mum, though. Can’t believe you’d forgotten to say anything to them at the time, it’s not as though you’d just barely survived two Unforgiveable Curses on the same evening.Poor old Padfoot. You deserve a long rest.Missing you more. Whatever shall we do when we’re around each other at school? (← Read that with the melodramatic delivery of a heroine right out of the pictures.) I’m warning you now, but I’m going to act very strangely, I know it. I’ve no idea how to proceed. But,Until then, I am everYour weird littleMoonyAs soon as Sirius spotted him – standing there on the bustling platform, enveloped by the steam of the scarlet engine behind him, about to board the waiting train – he leapt into Remus’s arms. The sharp whistle of the Hogwarts Express resonated through the air, mingling with the excited chatter of students and their parents’ last-minute goodbyes. Remus stumbled backward, startled and more than a little self-conscious. His eyes flitted about, half-panicked, worried that people might stare.Sirius disentangled himself in under a second, however, the grin on his face shifting into an exaggerated circle as he gasped, indignantly, “You got taller!”He was still gripping just beneath Remus’s wrists when he whirled around, calling to James – who was ambling up behind him by now, weaving around a gaggle of first-years dragging oversized trunks – “Prongs, he got taller!”Remus, utterly stunned by the brazen contact – Sirius’s hands looped around his neck, the way they’d done an involuntary little twirl from the momentum of Sirius throwing himself forward like that, that barely perceptible noise of delight Sirius had made in his ear, perfect, perfect – couldn’t manage to find a response.Fortunately, James rescued him, grinning as he gave Remus a brief hug, too – albeit sideways, and ending with a pat. At least that would have reduced the likelihood of passengers and parents interpreting Sirius’s embrace for more than brotherly.“What do you mean by it, Lupin?” James was playing along now. “After everything we’ve done for you…”“Sorry?” Remus laughed, the sound barely audible over the insistent whistle of the train warning them to get on.“You’d better be,” Sirius grinned, then picked up Remus’s luggage for him. The moon was about a week away, and Remus was admittedly starting to feel sluggish.With parting waves at their own chaperones – no time left for verbal goodbyes – the three of them boarded together. They started through the crowd of other students, the sounds of the train station fading into the background. Sirius walked a few steps ahead, still grinning over his shoulder at Remus, while James followed a little behind, casually swinging his own things. The familiar, slightly chaotic atmosphere of the train greeted them: students bustling through the narrow corridors, calling out greetings, vying for the best compartments.“Did you get a letter from Professor McGonagall, too, Moony? About a meeting with her?” James asked. “Because Pads and I did, but it didn’t sound like we were in trouble.”“Yeah,” Remus answered, glancing back with half an attentive smile. “It’s to do with timetables, probably.”“Merlin, yeah, I’ll bet you anything only Moony’s looks sensible, and we’ll have to do ours over.” Sirius huffed. “This is all your fault, Prongs, why’d you have to go and fail Divination?”“Oi!” James protested, though his laughter betrayed him. “I did my best – I dunno what you want from me, mate. It’s essentially creative writing, the outcome’s hardly predictable. Ironically.”“See, there’s your problem, you think that Divination is beneath you,” began Sirius, launching into a rant that had Remus shaking his head fondly.He couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment as they reached the end of the corridor. “I’ve got to head to the prefects’ carriage,” he said, reluctant to have to part ways.James inched closer and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Here, I’ll drop you off.”Sirius – who’d evidently been about to offer the same thing – paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced between them.“I could—”“—Save our compartment,” James cut in, as if finishing for him. His tone was casual, but the look he gave Sirius was pointed. “We’ll need it if Wormtail hasn’t turned up yet. Could still be some daft fresher who hasn’t twigged.”Sirius hesitated, clearly picking up on some unspoken cue. Remus had an inkling of what was going on, and felt his cheeks warm as he rubbed at the back of his neck.Eventually, Sirius sighed theatrically. “Fine, fine. I’ll take the luggage and secure our spot and all that. Been demoted to pack mule now, have I?”“Never, princess,” James assured him with a broad smile. Remus couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was at play, but he smiled along anyway: “I’ll see you later.”Shaking his head, Sirius hoisted the luggage and headed down the opposite corridor. As his footsteps faded, James turned to Remus, his grin fading slightly as a more serious expression settled on his face. It wasn’t combative, thank Merlin, but the way James squinted and folded his arms made Remus uneasy nonetheless.“I want a word with you,” he said, in a hushed voice, “Padfoot hasn’t been at all subtle over the summer.”“…Oh?” —was all Remus could manage. He’d pictured this scenario, it wasn’t in his nature not to have, pessimist that he was, but that didn’t mean he knew how to solve it. James surprised him however, throwing an arm across his shoulder as he steered them onward. The gesture seemed amiable enough.“You cheeky tosser. So utterly beyond me I might as well be pining after a star. I’d be miffed if I weren’t so impressed you had the nerve to make a pun at me,” he huffed, shaking his head.Remus gave a nervous laugh. “…You see why I didn’t want to tell you?”“Not really,” James returned, bordering vehement. “It doesn’t bother me, or anything— I mean, alright, I might have been shocked for all of five minutes, but at the end of the day you’re you, aren’t you? Both of you.”Bizarre how the sentence made perfect sense, even though it didn’t. Remus felt his shoulders relax, exhaling a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.James’s hand on his shoulder patted him once, and when Remus looked, he found knowing, kind eyes on him. “Where the bloomin’ heck did you manage to get it into your head that he fancied me, anyway? And I stand by what I said then – I could’ve helped you. How long have you been, like, harbouring feelings for him or whatever?”“…Too long,” Remus answered honestly, biting around a jittery smile.James’s eyebrows raised. “How long has he been reciprocating them?”“Not long enough,” Remus sighed. He ran both hands across his face: “Look, I know what you’re thinking, Prongs, and you’re right – he doesn’t know what he’s doing. His head’s all muddled up from all that mess over the summer, and then last year on top of it, and he’s just going along with whoever’s showing him the first scrap of kind—”“Blimey, steady on, mate. Where’d you get any of that from?” James blinked, stopping altogether.Remus stopped walking, too, and James physically turned him around by the shoulders, so they could face one another. He had to rise a little to manage it; Remus really had hit a growth spurt, he observed, absurdly.“Moony, I was going to say that he seems really happy about it,” James insisted. “Not in the alarming sense, either. Just happy.”Remus worried at his lip. “How has he been? Otherwise?”“Dips and peaks.” James sighed. “The highs are really high and the lows are really low. You know how it gets. Should have seen him after the Ministry people interrogated him on that lot. If dad and ma weren’t there, I’d never have managed – I came close to Flooing for you.”“You should have done,” said Remus, and James chuckled lowly.“I wasn’t about to call you out so close to a moon because Padfoot couldn’t sleep, mate. But he lights up about you, swear he does. I mean, he always has, come to think of it.”Remus nodded, eyes on his own hands. The fingers of one toyed with the thumb on the other. “I don’t know how long it’ll last. I keep thinking it won’t,” he confessed lowly. “But, but I promise, nothing’s going to change because of it. Even if he does wind up deciding this was a poorly thought-out whim— we’re still friends first, we’ll always be, just, you know…”“…You’re also allowed to snog now,” James finished for him, with an amused quirk of one eyebrow.Remus exhaled a half-startled laugh.“Yeah, I never doubted it.” James smiled. He turned; they continued along the corridor. “You’re that mature and all. Genuinely, if there was one person in the world I’d confidently say would be able to handle Sirius Black, of course it’d be you. Dunno why I didn’t see it sooner.” Affable pat on the arm, “‘You go.’ In Moony terms.”Remus chuckled. “Thanks, though, Prongs. For not being… you know.”“Ah, none needed. Just take good care of each other.” James’s smile was sincere for all of five seconds; then it morphed into something teasing. “And don’t go leaving me out! I’ll force myself in on every little rendezvous of yours if you two start forgetting I exist, I swear I will.”Remus laughed. “Oh, I wasn’t aware you wanted to be included. Adventurous of you.”“I should always be included, thank you very much,” he feigned indignation. Then – eyes widening slightly, as if something had just occurred to him – he hissed, “And wanking rules apply to this arrangement too! Don’t you dare forget yer privacy charms when we’re in the dorm—”“Prongs!” Remus shoved him, his entire face burning. “You demented—”But he had to cut himself short. They were a few steps away from the door to the prefects’ carriage… and Lily Evans stood there, arms curled around her own elbows, her face rather red, not meeting either boys’ eyes. Remus blinked; James, meanwhile, had straightened so quickly he called to mind a soldier leaping to attention at a sergeant’s bark.He ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous. “Right, have a good one, Moony,” he blurted in one breath, then turned around and fairly sped away before Remus could even answer.When Remus glanced at her again, he found Lily looking up at last, her expression flustered. “…Morning,” she nodded at him. “Shall we, er, head in together?”“Yeah, sure,” said Remus, relieved – he’d thought she’d still be, justifiably, put out with him, after the last time they’d spoken.He stepped closer. Now Lily looked halfway to miserable. “Remus, listen, I…” she faltered. “Last term… I-I mean, I’m not saying I was wrong, but I know you did what you could in the end, and I can’t possibly imagine what it’s like having to navigate a friendship that’s so rare, considering your, erm, you know, and other people being so unkind—”“You read Hairy Snout, Human Heart, didn’t you,” Remus exhaled, amused.Lily’s features scrunched up in something both apologetic and embarrassed all at once. “I read Hairy Snout, Human Heart,” she confessed, in a self-conscious hiss. She crossed over to him and looped her arm through his: “It was so gut-wrenching! I don’t know how the author could manage all that gallows humour at all. I cried.”“I laughed,” Remus answered with a smile and a shrug. He slid open the door, and Lily led them through. Dropping his voice to a whisper, so no one else could listen: “I suppose at some point it all gets so absurd that there’s nothing left to do but.”Lily sent him a pitying look in response. “Are hospital stays really that awful?” she whispered back.Remus nodded, but added a noncommittal hum, too. “I’ve been lucky,” he assured her. “I’ve been really lucky.”“Well, I was horrified,” she insisted. They’d found themselves seats by this point, the first berth opposite the door. “What I mean is, I sort of understand now why it might be scary. The idea of ruffling feathers when you’ve found people who aren’t intent on hurting you, in a world that very much is.”Remus shook his head. “It wasn’t that. Well, not only that. We’d… managed to rebuild… a fragile sort of accord after, y’know, all that with Snape, and I suppose I didn’t want to spoil that at the time. It doesn’t mean you were wrong – I should be apologising, really,” he said. “That’s the entire point of being in Gryffindor, isn’t it? Being brave enough to stand up for when it matters. In spite of the fear.” Like Sirius, he thought, heart clenching for his beloved.Lily nodded somewhat distractedly. “Anyway, I suppose the blame lies squarely with James, more than anyone,” she sighed. “Honestly, I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, and what does he do? Turns right around and proves he’s still the same arrogant, attention-seeking idiot he’s always been – acting like a complete tosser and thinking everyone’s too thick to see through it.”Remus gave her a rueful smile. “…Lily, I understand the need to let off steam, but you do realise you’re slagging off my friend to my face, right?”She blinked at him. “Sorry,” she said, not really sounding apologetic – more surprised. “I thought we were agreed about his behaviour.”“We are,” said Remus, “Just— there’s a difference between criticising someone fairly and… well… shredding them apart. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t sit around and let him talk about you like that, either.”He could feel Lily giving the side of his face a long look, then she turned, speaking to the window. “I’ll bet he must have, after we, erm… had words and all.”“No,” Remus answered without hesitation. “He hasn’t said a single thing about you.”He heard her turn again. She didn’t say anything, for a while, then remarked, “And I suppose you aren’t the sort to lie to me about that, are you, Remus.” She shook her head. “You know, it is a bit perplexing – that you’re not blind to his faults, but you’re still so loyal to him.”Remus smiled and shrugged. “James is the best friend anyone could ask for,” he said with conviction. “If you’d prefer to put it in terms of life debts, then I owe him several. We all do.”Her eyebrows shot up. “Not a trifling claim, that.”“I’m not one for melodrama,” Remus returned.She considered him, eyes flicking up and down, lips curving into a pensive frown.“…Suppose I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said at last.Remus exhaled a silent laugh. “Then I hope you’ll get the chance to. I sincerely do.”Lily smiled crookedly, giving a half-sardonic, half-amused breath of her own. But she also held out her hand, offering, “Truce?”“Thank Merlin,” Remus exaggerated a sigh of relief, which made her laugh, and took it.They settled in. There were a few other prefects inside the carriage already, no one Remus knew well, although Lily waved and said her hello’s to a couple. Snape wasn’t present, he realised at length, and couldn’t help wondering about it – he vaguely recalled something about Snape and Lily being from the same town, and thought surely that it would follow they’d have arrived around the same time.Daring to venture a remark, he cleared his throat: “So, erm… you and Snape…”“We’re not on speaking terms anymore, no.” Lily sighed, sounding world-weary. “And he’s had his badge revoked. Professor Slughorn wrote me personally.”Remus’s eyebrows lifted. “Over… over the…?”The look Lily gave him was comprehending. “I bet so, partly,” she confirmed, “But most of the school heard him call me what he called me, too, didn’t they. That’s Professor Slughorn’s reason, in any case. He apologised to me in his letter, said it was unacceptable behaviour for a prefect…” Wry laugh. “It’s unacceptable in general, but, ah. I suppose, just because Professor Slughorn usually means well, it wouldn’t mean he’d be completely without his biases, would it.”“No.” Remus shook his head and curled a sympathetic arm around her shoulder, squeezing once. Still, he was a bit relieved to hear that Professor Dumbledore and ‘the incident’ last year hadn’t been the primary impetus behind it.“I’ve been so worried about my family.” Lily frowned down at her lap. “I mean, we’ve just got to live with the knowledge that there’s a fledgling Death Eater down the street, now. And it’s hard to convince them to move house when they barely understand what that means to begin with.”“Easier said than done, anyway,” Remus agreed, being somewhat of an expert on moving house, unfortunately.Lily nodded. Then she pushed up higher against her seat, exhaling deeply. It was, at least ostensibly, all she needed to compose herself – manage a smile again.“Oh, well. I wrote some friends for advice, and worked out a sort of ‘security system’ that wouldn’t violate the Trace – enchanted objects and potions and such, you know. Cost a fortune and a half, mind, but now’s not the time for skimping.”“I’m glad,” Remus offered. The door opened then, and both of them turned, more reflexively than anything. Remus’s lips pulled into a thin line as he watched the pale, dark-haired boy entering the carriage, so many echoes of his brother on his face, yet so different at the same time: Regulus Black.He couldn’t help fixing his eyes on Slytherin’s new fifth-year appointee until the boy had found himself a seat, although Regulus himself hadn’t noticed, or really acknowledged anyone at all.“Shocking,” Lily whispered, beside him. “I’d thought they at least bothered to pretend they don’t endorse would-be Death Eaters.”“Wouldn’t matter,” Remus answered darkly. “The Blacks are too prominent to snub like that. It’s not the Slytherin way.”Lily turned slightly. “You think he is, too, then? You didn’t deny it…”“He’s on the fence as far as I’m aware.” Which wasn’t a complete lie, if less true than it had been the year prior. “But the smarter ones never flaunt it, do they? Who’s to say, really.”“Yeah, which is why I was really surprised to read about the investigation in the papers,” said Lily. “I mean, it’d been an open secret for so long, I was sure the Ministry and the Prophet were all either in on it or had their hands tied.”Remus managed a noncommittal hum and a brief smile. He didn’t know how to tell her that, that brief snippet about the Blacks being looked into by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that had appeared in the Daily Prophet over the summer was proof of exactly that. The little blurb hadn’t mentioned a thing beyond that much, not the causes (and every speculated one with a generous amount of “allegeds” thrown in anyway), not Voldemort or Bellatrix, or Mr and Mrs Black, and especially not Sirius and Regulus themselves.As if having read his mind, Lily said, “How did Sirius cope with it? That can’t have been pleasant.”“He wasn’t there,” Remus answered, something warm in his chest, like pride and admiration all at once. “He’d left by then. Moved to James’s.”Lily’s eyes went round with surprise. “Good on him,” she remarked.“Yeah.” Remus’s smile stretched so wide it hurt his cheeks. “It wasn’t easy, but he’s free of them now.”“Well, he’s in our house and not another for a reason,” Lily smiled back, with an amiable pat to his shoulder.They were interrupted by the new Head Boy, a Ravenclaw, clearing his throat, and had to quiet down and listen as the meeting commenced.By the time he returned to the compartment at the very back of the train – having finished patrolling the corridors with Lily – Remus found his friends had long changed into their school things.“Alright, Moony?” Peter greeted first; they hadn’t met on the platform, so there was some sense of reunion.He and Pete exchanged a grinning slide of palm against palm. James, next to Pete, offered a languid nod-and-smile; Remus thought he might ask about Lily, but he didn’t.Sirius, meanwhile, was curled up on the opposite seat, napping. His head rested against the window, feet tucked underneath himself.Remus took his place beside him. He looked utterly serene in his sleep, his long, dark lashes brushing against pale cheeks, typically sharp features softened in repose. The last burst of sunlight, streaming through the window, cast a gentle glow on his face, tracing the fine lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. There was a rare peacefulness about him that made Remus’s heart swell with affection – for a moment, he forgot himself, forgot other people were present.His hand moved on its own, thumb reaching out to draw a comma along one corner of Sirius’s lips: gentle, reverent, trying to commit the moment to memory. Still half-stunned he was allowed this at all now.Sirius stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet Remus’s. A slow, lazy smile spread across his lovely face, filled with so much warmth it made Remus’s breath catch.“You’re back,” Sirius murmured, voice husky with sleep— and then promptly shifted so his head could rest on Remus’s shoulder instead, closing his eyes again like it’d all been perfectly natural.Remus barely had time to react before Peter’s voice cut through the quiet. “What was that?” he demanded, audibly shocked.When Remus turned, he found that Pete had one incredulous finger pointed at them, although his wide eyes were on James, as if he wanted James to explain.Remus’s stomach lurched, realising too late that he’d given too much away. He glanced at James, too, but James was only rolling his eyes with something both fond and longsuffering.“Oh yeah, this lot are gonna be that insufferable from now on,” said James drily. “Gonna be all over each other. Forgetting about us.”Peter gawked, and James clarified, with a note of impatience, “They’re an item, innit.”“Honestly, Wormtail,” Sirius – evidently awake enough – exhaled a breath of amusement. “Keep up.”Peter’s mouth opened and closed, clearly trying to digest this news. For a moment, Remus saw a flicker of something in his eyes – was it hurt? Perhaps the feeling of being the last to know, of being left out? …Or revulsion? His stomach twisted slightly in discomfort, but before he could say anything, James went on:“I worked it out ’couple months ago.” Casually, almost lazily, and with an easy lean back against his seat. “Not that they made it hard, mind. You know, you two, if you don’t want anybody else catching on, you might consider being a bit less obvious.”At that, Peter’s shoulders visibly relaxed, some of the tension easing from his expression, though not entirely. It confirmed, at least, that he’d found some small comfort in knowing that Remus and Sirius hadn’t just been keeping it from him, specifically; so that was all his earlier uneasiness had been. Remus did remember what Sirius had said about wizarding attitudes toward same-sex relationships, but it was still hard to not doubt it.As if to corroborate that, Peter obliged, with a half-begrudging noise, “Well, that makes sense. Lucky I’m not too quick on the uptake, eh.”“Piss off. Like it’s fair that we’ll have to hide it,” Sirius grumbled. One of his hands found its way around Remus’s arm, and Remus fairly melted against his seat.He felt, more than saw, Sirius nod at James. “When this one got to suck face with what’s-her-name, seventh-year, right in front of half the school last term?”James’s grin was the definition of the cat that got the canary. “Are you expecting me to be sorry? I’m not sorry.”Some “whey”-ing from Peter, and swatting from Sirius. James laughed, “Anyway, it’s not like Moony would be inclined to do that even if one of you were a girl, is it.”Playing along, Remus arched his eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware you could speak for me.”“Ooh, hear that, Padfoot? You’d better guard your honour,” James teased, making Sirius laugh.“Doesn’t really change much, though, does it?” Peter observed, his voice genuinely contemplative. “I mean, what – they’ll nick your Cloak and sneak off in the middle of the night? They’ve been doing that for years.”“Actually, yeah,” James realised, vaguely indignant as he crossed his arms and squinted at them. “Maybe it isn’t that much of an accomplishment to have pieced it together so late.”“Don’t look at me, I had no idea either,” Sirius chuckled. He tilted his head up at Remus, smiling fondly. “Mr Moony and his secrets.”Charmed, Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulled him close, and brushed his lips against the top of his head. Sirius wriggled in delight.“By the way, Moony, who’s Head Girl and Boy?” asked James, at length.“And do we care or not?” Sirius added.Remus chuckled. “Oluyemi Adelakun from Hufflepuff and Gaspard Shingleton from Ravenclaw.”“Is that the bloke with the green thumbs?” asked Peter, and James sent him a quizzical look: “How’s he supposed to know whether random strangers are any good at Herbology or not?”“No, literal green thumbs,” Peter clarified with a sagely tilt of the chin. “Wears gloves to hide ’em and everything.”“Nah, that’s Tilden Toots from Hufflepuff,” said Sirius. “Shingleton is the pompous one with the white hair. Say, d’you reckon he’s related to Madam Hooch?”“So we don’t care, then.” James smirked. “Some puffed-up pillock and a Hufflepuff? They sound like a right pair of mugs.”Remus shook his head, though he couldn’t quite bite back a smile, either. “What are you going to do if I wind up Head Boy next year?”James’s eyes went wide with something faux-scandalised and teasing. “Woo, that ambitious already, are we, Lupin? Prefect’s badge gone to your head?”“No!” Remus laughed, but it was too late – Peter and James pounced, so to speak, for a good ten minutes after, while Sirius quivered in mirth against him.Eventually, Sirius asked, “Was my prat of a brother made prefect, then?”“Yeah.” Remus gave him a sympathetic squeeze where he still had a hand curled around Sirius’s upper arm.“Thought so. Little prick,” Sirius muttered darkly. “I want to get him back for summer. I swear. I want to make him regret it— thinks he’s so darling and important in that house, well. Let’s see how he feels at Hogwarts.”James grinned at him. “Heard you loud and clear.”That didn’t bode well, thought Remus, and he ventured, “Listen, maybe it’d be smarter to just—”But the train was stopping, and they had to pause all conversation to disembark. In the flurry of lugging trunks and pushing past other students, the group wound up separated for a bit, Remus falling into step with Peter instead.“So, erm, this thing…” Peter whispered, a note of concern in his voice, “Are you sure it’s a good idea, mate? After all that last year?”“I’m sure,” Remus assured him with a smile – and he was, at least in that regard, anyway. “That’s behind us now.”Peter nodded, contemplative eyes on the ground ahead of him. “Sorry, I don’t mean to doubt it. I’m just, you know, worried about you.”“And I appreciate that, Wormy.” Remus draped an amiable arm around Pete’s neck, pulling him close in half a headlock that made him chuckle.“It’s just…” Peter sighed. “Look, I’m happy you two sorted things out, I really am, but…” He made a frustrated noise as if struggling to find the right words. “D’you know, Pads never apologised to me? I mean, I’m not trying to take away from what he did to you, or make it about me, obviously, but… I said things to him too, and I meant most of them, and it’s like he didn’t even care. Bet he doesn’t even remember.”Remus’s eyebrows furrowed as he considered this. Peter was inching out of his hold, now, frowning at his shoes. “If you want me to have a word with him about that, I can,” Remus offered.Peter gave him a half-hearted smile, but shook his head. “Nah. It wouldn’t mean the same if he only did it because you asked him to – doesn’t really count if it’s not something he wanted to do on his own, does it? Whatever, it’s fine, mate. This is Padfoot we’re talking about, not one of them bullies you’d have had to give a talking-to back when we were first-years.”“Are you sure?” Remus frowned. “Because if it bothers you, it bothers you, it’s no good pretending otherwise. Take it from me, yeah? You wind up hurting each other worse.”Peter chuckled, although there was an insincere ring to it. “Come off it, Moony. I’m all grown up now, don’t need you looking after me anymore. You’ll be trying to tuck me in at night, next.”Pitying him, Remus let him have his change of tone, giving Peter a gentle shove instead. “Alright, alright. But don’t say I didn’t offer.”They’d caught up to Sirius and James, by that point, the two of them waiting at the tail end of the row of carriages. It was almost a form of transfiguration in itself, the way the air about them changed when they weren’t just on their own – Marauders only, that is – Remus observed. For all that James and Sirius both dismissed other people’s opinions, and genuinely seemed to believe they did, it was evident that on some unconscious level they did wind up putting on new faces when they were around other people regardless. James’s swagger for instance, or how Sirius held himself at the moment: exuding that slightly haughty, effortlessly cool manner that was so uniquely his; eyes focused on something in the distance with an air of almost regal indifference.But Merlin, he made it look good, Remus couldn’t deny. Alluring, and enigmatically so.He tilted his head and smiled when Remus approached, even that less eager now, just an insouciant little quirk of one corner of his lips. In compensation, all the warmth seemed to have moved to his eyes instead. Remus smiled back, enchanted.They bumped shoulders once they got close enough, meandering ahead together while Peter and James loitered a step behind. Sirius lifted a hand like he’d been about to curl it around Remus’s upper arm— seemed to catch himself, and ran it through his hair instead. Remus smiled: “Prongs might have a point about not making it quite so obvious.” Lowly, tenderly.Sirius grinned back, a more crooked, insolent thing. “I’m not the one smirking like Alice’s Cheshire Cat at the minute, Remus.”Remus laughed silently, hiding it behind a palm. James launched himself at them just then, forcing his head in between theirs, arms draped round each of their shoulders. “Hi, James Potter!” he declared loudly. “Not really a person that’s possible to ignore, thanks.”“More’s the pity,” Remus ribbed, while Sirius and Pete (who’d caught up to them) laughed.Sirius swivelled his head to the side, evidently spotting someone of interest across the aisle of carriages, and he called, “Excuse me, are you a teacher?”Remus turned to look as well. The woman Sirius had been addressing did seem young enough to leave room for doubt, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. She had black hair that she wore quite short, and olive-green eyes. There was no surprise, as such, on her face when she turned to find who’d hailed her; that vaguely aristocratic, unimpressed look actually reminded him of Sirius himself.She hardly paused in walking, a couple of house-elves pushing her trolley for her. “I am,” she answered; it was accented. Spanish or Italian or something like that, Remus thought.“Defence, then?” asked James.Remus sighed and cut in, “What they mean is, welcome to Hogwarts, professor.”There was finally a sliver of amusement in her expression, at that. “Well, thank you,” she said. (Definitely Italian.) “I will see you boys in class.”And she rounded the next corner, leaving them to their own quest of finding a carriage. “Thought she might have been an Auror,” Sirius explained before anybody could ask, “That’d be the day we’d need to be on our toes, wouldn’t it. When the Ministry start coming into the school.”“Oi, a free one.” Peter pointed at a carriage up ahead, and they quickened their paces, hoping to get it all to themselves.Sirius urged them on with a, “Chal,” making James beam: “Hey, you got the ‘ch’ right, Pads!”“I know, finally! Hearing aunty say it so much drilled it in,” Sirius laughed.James was still grinning when they clambered into the carriage. “We’ll make a Potter out of you yet,” he declared.Sirius affected a preening lift of one shoulder as soon as he sat down next to Remus, across from James. “And I can say the most useful one now.” With a mischievous tilt of the chin at James – “Chup.”James gasped, and Remus and Peter roared with laughter.They had barely set foot in the Entrance Hall, and hadn’t even caught so much of a glimpse of the Great Hall yet, when they bumped into Professor McGonagall, who was making her way down the staircase.“Ah, boys.” She gave them a quick nod. “This is rather convenient. If you’re willing to miss the feast, you can come to my office now. It’ll save you the trouble of getting up early to sort things out before lessons tomorrow – but it’s entirely up to you.”“Yeah, sure,” James answered for them, with a casual shrug. “We don’t mind, do we, lads?”There were no objections, so McGonagall turned, and called to Filch: “Mr Filch, could you inform Professor Flitwick that I won’t be attending? Oh, and please let Professor Rallis know that I have Sirius Black with me – she’ll want a word.”Sirius groaned. “Ugh, I knew it.” He shot James a disgruntled look.Professor McGonagall, visibly amused, led them back up the stairs and down the corridor.They followed her into her familiar office, taking the seats that she indicated.“Congratulations on passing your OWLs,” she began, closing the door behind her, “As you might have guessed, however, there’s quite some ironing out to be done with your NEWT subjects.”“Are we not taking enough classes, professor?” asked James, in his most sycophantic tone. “Because I was only thinking about Quidditch, you see – that’s what all that free time is for, I mean, considering how we only just won the Cup last year by the skin of our teeth…”He always did know how to use his shared interests with their Head of House to his advantage, thought Remus, half-amused and half-marvelling at James’s audacity.Professor McGonagall sent him an unimpressed look over her half-moon spectacles, although a corner of her mouth twitched. “I’m getting to that,” she said. “As it happens, Mr Potter, the issue isn’t the… generous amount of blank slots on your timetable… rather, my concern is that your chosen subjects make absolutely no sense given your prospective careers.”The boys exchanged glances. “Careers?” Peter squeaked – sounding, for some reason, a bit taken aback.“Yes, careers,” McGonagall replied, with just a touch of impatience. “To be perfectly clear – there’s nothing explicitly against the rules in the choices you have made. If you wish to continue with the subjects you’ve selected, I cannot stop you. However, as your Head of House and as your teacher, it remains my duty to offer you guidance, whether you like it or not.”She paused, her gaze sweeping over each of them. “I understand that the four of you have a rather… tight-knit… bond.” (They shifted, slightly, in their chairs.) “But I would strongly advise you not to base your choices solely on keeping each other company in lessons. You should choose the subjects that will serve you best, not because it might be more fun to sit together.”“But, professor, that’s just incidental,” Sirius tried. “We’ve got our career plans sorted, honestly. I mean, James doesn’t need to think about it, and I’m planning on getting a Muggle job anyway – so it doesn’t hurt for us to take whatever Remus is taking.”“Yes, well,” Professor McGonagall replied drily, “I’d like to offer my thoughts on that, too, Mr Black. But you’ve conveniently stumbled upon our first problem.” And she turned toward Peter, her eyebrows lifting. “Care to explain, Mr Pettigrew, or shall I?”Remus, thrown off, turned to Peter too. Peter’s face was rapidly turning scarlet, and he chewed nervously at his lip. “…I’m sorry, Moony,” he mumbled. “I failed Defence.”“What!?” Sirius blurted out before Remus could even react.“How does anyone fail Defence?” James wrinkled his nose in genuine confusion. “And why didn’t you just tell us sooner?”“W-Well, I-I thought, since we were going to get a new professor anyway, maybe… y’know… maybe they’d have… slightly laxer standards about who they let into the NEWT class, or…”“I’m sorry, Mr Pettigrew,” McGonagall interrupted, though not unkindly. “But new professor or not, no one is going to allow anything less than an Acceptable at NEWT level.”“It’s alright, Pete,” Remus finally got a word in, sending him a reassuring look. “Professor McGonagall’s not wrong, we don’t all have to take the same classes.”“Unbelievable,” Sirius muttered, folding his arms with a huff. “Go on then, what else did you fail?”Peter squirmed in his seat. “…Erm… History…”“Well, nobody cares about that,” Sirius scoffed, ignoring the disapproving look that McGonagall sent his way.“…Muggle Studies…”“Are you joking?” Sirius whirled around, scowling now. “My back-up plan’s to join the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office or the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee!”Professor McGonagall folded her arms and fixed Sirius with a pointed look. “Mr Black, I would remind you that Mr Pettigrew – like any of you – may play to his strengths. There’s no rule stating that he must take Defence Against the Dark Arts or Muggle Studies or any other subject he isn’t suited for.”Sirius opened his mouth, but McGonagall held up a hand. “And nothing is stopping you from continuing with Muggle Studies either, if it’s what you’re truly interested in. But this outburst of yours is doing a rather fine job of proving my point. You’re all picking subjects based on what everyone else is doing rather than what will actually benefit you.”Sirius looked a bit sheepish, though he still grumbled under his breath, “I just thought—”McGonagall cut him off, gently but firmly. “What you aren’t thinking is long-term. I understand your desire to stick together, but this is about setting yourselves up for the future— for instance, Mr Lupin, I appreciate your willingness to consider things from my perspective currently, but I also have to wonder where this discernment was when you chose your third-year electives. If you were always aiming for research-level expertise in Defence, why did you not take Care of Magical Creatures? Dark creatures are covered in the syllabus.”Remus coloured. It’d been because Peter was deathly afraid of approaching some of them in real life – he didn’t need to say it to know that Professor McGonagall had caught on.“…I rest my case.” She sighed. “In fairness, it isn’t your fault that careers advice is held so late. But what I’m getting at is that it isn’t too late to course-correct, either. For you in particular, Mr Lupin, as an educator myself I can confidently advise that you choose theory-heavy subjects such as—”There was a knock on the door, interrupting her, and when she called, “Enter,” Professor Rallis did. Professor Rallis was a stout woman, with very curly hair and a perpetually bored expression; people said she had Moroccan heritage, which showed in her olive skin and dark eyes and thick eyebrows. “Good afternoon, Pythia,” McGonagall greeted. “Perfectly timed – I was about to talk to Mr Black and Mr Potter about how they seem to have neglected signing up for the subjects that they actually performed well in and would benefit their aspirations. Would you like to join?”“Afternoon, Minerva,” Professor Rallis returned, then crossed her arms, and turned her attention toward Sirius. “What’s this I hear about you dropping Divination, Mr Black? If I’m not mistaken, you got an Outstanding in your OWLs.”“I did, professor,” Sirius confirmed morosely. “It’s just… well… I mean, Professor McGonagall’s already had a go at us about it, so you don’t have to, alright? It’s just that James didn’t pass.”“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Rallis said, blunt and monotonous as ever. She turned to James: “I’m pleased that you managed to avoid a Dreadful on the strength of your theoretical understanding alone, Mr Potter. However, you’re currently too disconnected from your own intuition to put it into practice – and frankly, I must say you’ve never shown much interest in developing it, either. The Sight is a gift that is either inherent or not, yes, but the intuition can and must be honed.”James widened his eyes at the desk ahead of him like he’d meant to roll them but had stopped himself. Remus observed, in amusement, that Professor McGonagall was echoing the look at her own papers, behind Professor Rallis’s back.“Sorry, professor,” James drawled, not sounding apologetic in the least.“Not at all. That’s entirely your prerogative.” Rallis shrugged, as blasé as usual. “Neither I nor fate care whether people are sceptical or not, it does not require your belief to operate. But I only accept students with an Exceeds Expectations and higher into my NEWT class for a reason. You, Mr Black, possess sharper intuition than most people I’ve encountered, short of being born with the Sight itself. Why not continue on to NEWT-level, child?”“I don’t know,” Sirius admitted, with an almost sulky expression. “D’you reckon it’d help, professor?”“Certainly.” Professor Rallis nodded. “As I’ve said, you have developed a strong intuition – however, I’m of the opinion that you still need to learn how to express it. It won’t help you to have all the insight in the world if you don’t know how and when to act on that. At best, you’ll end up a Cassandra; at worst, you may unconsciously set self-fulfilling prophecies into motion. Orchestrate your own, or other people’s, downfalls by saying or doing the wrong things, spurred by instincts you can’t explain.”Remus wouldn’t class himself as having strong opinions either way about the efficacy of Divination, but even he thought this sounded like a lot of nonsense.Evidently Sirius didn’t feel the same, for he hummed contemplatively. “I’m not planning on becoming a Reader or a Seer, though, professor…”“Regardless.” Rallis tilted her head. “You never know what fate might have in store for you, or for the people around you. How high the stakes could be.”“Forgive me, but I thought that was the point of Divination?” Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow.Sirius answered for Rallis. “Not really, professor. Telling fortunes is a very tiny part of it, and anyway not a guaranteed process at all, ’cause time and the future don’t actually exist, and fate is more like a choose-your-own-adventure book than anything. Divination is about seeing into the things you can’t, you know, like— like the subconscious, and all that, or maybe what other people might be thinking. Seeing into what’s hidden, in general.”“You see? You’ve got a solid grasp of it already,” Rallis pointed out. “It’d be a shame to lose you in my class, Mr Black.”Sirius looked conflicted. Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, seemed thoroughly unimpressed, though she hid it well enough, her expression perfectly civil despite the twitch of her lips. “Well, I’ve never quite been able to wrap my head around it, I’m afraid. Nevertheless, I do agree with Professor Rallis, Mr Black, if you’ve managed an Outstanding. There’s no sense in wasting that.”“Hmm…” Sirius turned to Remus, then James, then Peter. “None of you got an E? What about you, Moony?”“An A.” Remus smiled apologetically.“I genuinely wish it were otherwise, Mr Lupin.” Professor Rallis shook her head. “A werewolf with a Hogwarts education? Fate almost certainly has something planned for you.”Remus startled. Only Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey were supposed to know about him, officially. He sometimes suspected that Professor Flitwick knew, as well, but the Charms teacher had never said as much, either.In response to his shock, Professor Rallis only arched an eyebrow. “I do teach Divination for a reason.”Then, turning to James: “And you don’t need to take my class to sharpen your intuition, Mr Potter. There are books that could aid you. I’d suggest it’s worth the look.”“I find, Pythia, that students who perform… particularly well in my subject don’t tend to have a, er… knack… for Divination. Unfortunately,” McGonagall answered for him. “Transfiguration must simply demand more of a, er… concrete… mind.”James had to hide a laugh behind a cough. “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” he choked, as seriously as he could. “Sorry about that, professor, I’m just, er… Transfiguration-minded.”“None of my concern.” Rallis shrugged. “Well, do consider it, Mr Black. Minerva – I won’t take up much more of your time. See you at the feast.”“And you,” McGonagall smiled thinly.As soon as Professor Rallis left, Professor McGonagall and James exchanged twin looks of exasperation. “Yes, er… where were we.” McGonagall cleared her throat. “Mr Potter. Might I ask, why are you not taking Potions? Your strongest subjects appear to be application-oriented, and Potions would round out Charms, Defence, and Transfiguration nicely.”James deflated. “Have I got to? I mean, it doesn’t matter, for Quidditch, does it?”“Never bet on one option, Mr Potter,” McGonagall warned. “It’s not wise. With a record like yours, you could easily land some of the most coveted positions in the Ministry – perhaps even as an Auror.”“Pass.” James frowned stubbornly. “My dad would never let me live it down if I became some Ministry berk.”Remus stared at his lap, swallowing around the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. “…James, if you can have more options, you should keep them open,” he murmured. “I mean, sports alone… it’s taking for granted that you’ll always be this… healthy.”James whipped around in his direction, wide-eyed.Remus offered him a feeble smile. “Anyone can become disabled at any time. Absolutely anyone. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”They were all staring at him now, he could tell, but Remus only met Professor McGonagall’s eyes. She looked sympathetic, and there was an appreciation underlying it, as well.She nodded at him; he nodded back.“I mean, I can only do this one thing,” he continued, with a careless shrug. “And I’m grateful that— that isn’t true for any of the rest of you. Merlin, I’m grateful. But it’s exactly why you ought to take your own choices more seriously. Because you get to have them.”When he glanced up again, he found his friends all red-faced and looking rather ashamed.“…You’re right, Moony,” James exhaled, the look on his face halfway to distressed. He turned to McGonagall: “Professor, could we please just have our dinner up in the dorms? I think we ought to discuss this a little further.”“Oh, very well,” McGonagall sighed, with a half-forbearing shake of her head – although her eyes were fond. “I’ll be expecting your revised timetables by breakfast tomorrow, at the latest. You may be dismissed.”They all stood. James gave Remus a firm squeeze on the arm, his smile strained and apologetic. Peter clapped him on the back as he passed, too, nodding in sympathy.Sirius, for his part, evidently decided to forgo all caution or propriety and wound a hand round Remus’s arm, briefly dropping his head on Remus’s shoulder, though he straightened immediately after. Remus didn’t have the heart to shake him off, smiling down at him instead.The trek to Gryffindor Tower was decidedly subdued, and they all resumed talking about their picks with far more gravity.In the end – somewhat predictably – Remus finished his timetable, first. There hadn’t been much to revise. James came a close second, and together they did their best to help Peter, but Sirius was still at it well past curfew.There was a frenetic energy to Sirius’s efforts that set off alarm bells in Remus’s mind. By half-past ten, Sirius was so highly strung, he’d snapped at all of them, several times. Poor Peter had taken it to heart at some point, abandoning Sirius on his bed with parchment and quills strewn around him, and had gone to sleep in a huff.James was currently trying to coax Sirius into doing the same. “It’s good enough, mate,” he said, tone unusually gentle. “Come on, just leave it. It’s not like the professors won’t let you change things later if you need to.”Sirius’s hands were shaking slightly as he scribbled something along the edge of his parchment. His hair was a wild mess from running his hands through it, and he didn’t glance up. “But it’s not ‘good enough,’” he muttered through gritted teeth. “‘Good enough’ would be having more time together. More time with Moony.”Remus, sitting cross-legged on the mattress, exchanged a glance with James. The tension radiating off of Sirius was palpable, and it tightened Remus’s chest.“Pads,” he ventured softly, “You’ve done your best. You’re working yourself into a knot over nothing. We’ve already got plenty of classes—”Sirius finally looked, grey eyes stormier with frustration. “It’s not nothing,” he snapped. “We haven’t got much time left at Hogwarts as it is, and now I’m stuck in half my classes without you. I don’t like it.”James gave Remus a helpless glance. “Is this about you and Moony being together? Because I’m sure you two will manage to find time to yourselves… I mean, we’re Marauders, aren’t we? We sneak around for less, and we’re good at it, yeah?”Sirius glared at him, but there wasn’t any real venom behind it. The mask was slipping, and Remus could see the agitation brewing just beneath the surface. “It’s not that,” Sirius hissed, waving his hand vaguely, knocking parchment to the floor. “Whatever. I need a smoke.”And he slid off the bed, storming toward the bathroom.“You weren’t joking about the fragile mood,” Remus whispered to James once Sirius had gone.“If by ‘fragile,’ you mean like a detonator.” James groaned, slipping two fingers beneath his glasses to rub his eyes. “Yeah, I told you, didn’t I? Ups and downs. That display, there – that’s been most of our summer. You reckon he’ll supernova?”Which was one of James’s darker, not-quite-jokes. Their star, exploding, scattering debris everywhere. Sometimes literally – Sirius had been known to start flinging things, when frustration got the better of him.“Not likely. Not over something like this,” Remus assured him. “He’s just tired and coming down from the excitement of the first day back. I’ve got it, Prongs. Don’t worry.”James – who had been leaning back on both arms – visibly relaxed, his elbows nearly buckling with the relief. “Cheers, Moony. Passing the baton – don’t mind.” And he rolled off of Sirius’s bed, stretching a little. “God, I’m knackered.”Remus chuckled quietly. “He’s my responsibility now, anyway.” Partly joking, partly a reflexive, territorial reminder.James huffed, half-smiling. “Erm, I love him, mate, but this bit’s always been your responsibility. I dunno what I’m doing, do I?”He gave Remus a pat on the arm – “Go on, go snog your boyfriend silly.” – And made for his own bed.Remus’s mind stuck on the word, for a minute. Boyfriend. He wondered what that would look like, what it meant for them.He got to his feet. Padded across the carpet with only his socks on. The double-doors leading into the bathroom, which they usually left open, opened into the row of basins and the large mirror above them first. Then followed two more doors on either side of this space – the one for the bath on the left, the one for the toilet on the right. Remus stepped into the bathroom, where sure enough Sirius was perched on the edge of the bathtub, staring at nothing on the floor as he smoked. He had a knee hooked over the other, his free hand curled loosely around his middle. Dark strands of hair fell across most of one side of his face.“Hey,” Remus ventured gently, closing the door again. He walked over and crouched beneath Sirius.“I don’t know what I’m getting so worked up for,” said Sirius, half-frustrated and half-despairing. “Sorry.”“It’s alright. You’re alright.” Remus ran his hands along Sirius’s thighs, back-and-forth, hoping to comfort. “It’s just been a packed day and you’re probably sleepy.”Sirius scoffed. “No reason to act a headcase.”“You want reasons, Padfoot?” Remus gave him a fond, but pointed, look, raising both his eyebrows. “In alphabetical or chronological order?”That made Sirius chuckle, at least. “You always know how to make things sound so… simple.”“Only you would refer to anything you’ve been through lately as ‘simple,’ Sirius.” Remus smiled, bittersweet.He coaxed the hand that wasn’t holding a cigarette into his, then stood, pulling them both to their feet. They leaned into an embrace in one beautiful, fluid movement like it was the most natural thing in the world. Remus buried a smile in the hair on the top of Sirius’s head, and relished the contented exhale that in turn brushed against his neck.“Hmm. Your jumper feels nice,” Sirius murmured.“Don’t burn it, then,” Remus returned. He used the hand that wasn’t curled around the back of Sirius’s neck to slip the cigarette out from between Sirius’s fingers.“Nasty habit. Bad for ya,” he said, as he tossed it into the bin nearby.Sirius made a half-hearted noise of protest, but didn’t argue. They stayed like that a moment longer, then Remus eased away: “Come on. Come to bed.”There was an odd, almost awestruck look on Sirius’s face. It made Remus feel vaguely self-conscious, and his eyes flitted toward their hands, which were now interlocked, instead.“…What?” he ventured.“Nothing.” (When he glanced up again, Sirius was smiling softly.) “Merlin, I think I want to hear you say that to me for the rest of my life.”Remus felt his face warm. He turned his head to the side, smiling at nothing. “…Are you sure, Sirius?” he murmured. “About me? I’m not much.”Sirius chuckled. A gentle hand reached up to Remus’s cheek, cradling it, turning his face forward again. “You’re mental, is what you are.” Sirius smiled crookedly. The hand that was still holding Remus’s tugged him forward, and soon Sirius was twisting around, overtaking him, leading him back out of the bathroom himself.With a mesmerising, wicked glance over his shoulder, Sirius added, “Which is lucky, because so am I.”Remus couldn’t help laughing along.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Remus had his mother’s hair, Sirius thought. It was the same shade of light brown as his dad’s, true enough, but it did that thing that Mrs Lupin’s did: sort of curled, sort of didn’t. One of these not-quite-curls, particularly stubborn, had fallen over his forehead currently, and Sirius’s fingers itched with the desire to reach up and brush it back. He could, of course. That was allowed now. But he didn’t want to wake him.For Remus Lupin was, somehow, miraculously, fast asleep by his side at the moment. Sirius still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here even though he could theoretically list all the preceding events in chronological order. It was just so hard to believe; Remus, there, with his lips slightly parted, his breaths steady and calm against Sirius’s face. This close, Sirius’s eyes could trace every line, every freckle, every faint scar that mapped his skin… there was a vulnerability to it, a sort of unguarded softness that Sirius never got to see otherwise, when Remus was all careful smiles and thoughtful restraint in his waking hours.It wasn’t even as though this was the first time they’d fallen asleep together: there’d been sleepovers at the Lupins’, afternoon naps on the Potters’ makeshift owlery, and far more often, this, like it was right now, simply having stayed up talking until it inevitably happened.But it felt momentous now that the meaning of it had changed. Remus was beautiful, Sirius thought. He marvelled at how he could ever have gone five years without realising this.His gaze dropped past the thin scar that cut across Remus’s cheek, followed the line of his jaw, the soft curve of those lips, back up to the faint dusting of freckles around his nose. It would be easy, he thought, to lean forward and kiss him. He could wait for Remus to open his eyes, ask him first, because he remembered how anxious it used to make him when Marcus would help his fucking self without so much as a warning, let alone “please.”But there was anxiety now, too – only a different sort; probably what people meant when they talked about Billywigs in their stomachs before Quidditch matches and such.Because it wouldn’t be just any old kiss. It’d be a kiss with Remus. He felt, for some reason, like when it happened it would be tremendous; move mountains, end wars, stop time.He reached out, cupping Remus’s cheek. Merlin, how was he here? How was he here? This moment would have been so far beyond the bounds of his imagination not a year ago that he’d never ever ever dreamt of it. He hadn’t known he was allowed to have this— that he could even want it. Remus, Moony, earth-angel, who was kind and wise and so very strong, and who knew him.How could anyone know him, know him like only a Marauder could, and then want him?And Remus thought he “wasn’t much.” By Merlin. That was probably why he bothered with Sirius – didn’t know any better.Remus stirred, then, and Sirius withdrew his hand, a bit disappointed that he’d disturbed him. He watched those eyelids with the fragile web of veins flutter open, watched comprehension return to Remus’s lovely brown eyes. A barely-there smile was quirking up one corner of his lips already; it made Sirius’s heart attempt a somersault. “We fell asleep?” Remus murmured hoarsely.Sirius nodded, biting around the helpless upturn of his own lips. That was indeed all they’d done: talked and talked until they’d fallen asleep. Not even a kiss, Sirius’s mind pointed out once more – why did that feel so significant, he wondered? Because it was the expected thing?He knew his eyes were flicking back and forth with the way he was drinking in the sight of Remus awaking; he could feel it himself. Remus’s smile turned bashful under the scrutiny; he shifted, rolling over onto his back.Sirius chuckled just to get the giddy feeling out of his chest. “Morning,” he obliged. “Say, Moony. D’you remember the first time we did this?”Remus nodded, still smiling at the canopy above them. “Why wouldn’t I? Summer after first year… first time you stayed over at my house… Prongs and Wormy and I… didn’t really believe your parents would let you, given, you know, my mum… so we hadn’t been expecting all four.”“Right, yeah.” Sirius grinned. “I’d managed to sneak out and turn up anyway. We had to fit us all into your bedroom— wound up having to share the bed, you and me…”“Top-and-tailing it, yeah.” Remus chuckled under his breath. “Do you, do you remember, in the morning, when Prongs found us— we’d somehow… inched closer in the night, and— he said—”“‘Don’t you look like a pair of puppies,’” Sirius recalled, laughing along. “Merlin, and he thinks he can’t grasp Divination.”Remus quivered with amusement.He turned on his side again, one hand slipping under Sirius’s arm to pull him close, the other reaching past Sirius altogether – feeling for something. It brought Sirius’s face practically against his chest; that giddy feeling threatened to make Sirius’s heart burst. “What’s the time, darling?” Remus asked – rhetorically, as he was clearly looking for the bedside clock – and Sirius’s brain sort of stopped working when it registered the words. Merlin’s beard, it wasn’t advisable to be seeing Remus after all, he thought; at this rate he would surely die of a heart attack.“Er?” was all Sirius managed.“Gone about six…” Remus murmured to himself, meanwhile, completely oblivious as he eased back onto his pillow, like that had been nothing. His hair was a mess now, from turning; some of it sticking up at odd angles here and there; and his lashes fluttered and caught the light.It all looked golden. He looked golden.Sirius swallowed, a sudden surge of courage making his pulse quicken. The words bubbled up unbidden: “Remus,” he started, voice lower than he meant, his gaze flicking up shyly, “Would you, erm… like to kiss?”Remus blinked, visibly caught off guard. His lips parted in surprise, then twisted into half a grin as he glanced away. “Pads,” he chuckled, soft and self-conscious, “My breath probably stinks.”The lightness in it made Sirius feel instantly less exposed. He watched as Remus settled further into his pillow, casual and easy, as if the question hadn’t rattled the earth the way that it had for Sirius. “Besides,” he continued, his tone gentling like he somehow knew, “There’s no rush, is there?”It settled like a warm blanket over Sirius. There was no rush. Nothing was wrong. He hadn’t broken any rules – hadn’t fumbled the moment by not doing something sooner. It was enough, just to be there.Sirius smiled quietly to himself, a knot he hadn’t realised was tightening gradually unwinding in his chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, glancing over at Remus again. “No rush.”As if to prove it, Sirius’s heart slowed from a gallop to a trot, and they lounged for a bit, and everything quieted.Remus had a knack for making the world feel like this. Calmer.Eventually, James’s voice called from the other side of the bed-hangings – rudely reminding Sirius that time existed and passed at all. “Oi, are you lot in there?” James sounded muffled. “We’ve got to get to breakfast early – McGonagall, remember?”Sirius and Remus met each other’s eyes and laughed silently. “What’s the matter, Prongs, can’t check for yourself?” Sirius shouted back, teasing.“Not funny,” hissed Remus, but the mirth in his eyes said otherwise. They both started to get up, with lots of stretching – James, meanwhile, was grumbling: “Shove off, I’ve seen more of you than your mother has, Sirius Black.”“Anything by zero makes zero,” Sirius snorted, and parted the hangings himself. The sunlit dorm greeted them: James was standing opposite the bed, arms folded, vaguely miffed (presumably about the ribbing); and Peter peered over in amusement from where he was already standing by his own bed, packing for lessons.Pete whistled at Sirius emerging from Remus’s bed; Sirius held up two fingers in response. James said, “Also, is this going to be a habit from now on, because it’s really weird waking up to that bed being empty,” (Gesturing with a thumb at Sirius’s bed over his shoulder,) “So if it is you’d better let me know, and then Wormy could swap with you, Pads, eh?”Sirius affected a scandalised gasp. “Prongs, how could you! Replacing me like it’s that easy— heartless git.”Peter laughed. “Look what ya done, Moony, you homewrecker.”Remus – casually buttoning up his cloak – shrugged, with a little smirk. “It’s always partly the husband’s fault when they stray. Neglect and such, you know.”James clutched his chest in mock appal. “Neglect? I’ll have you know I am very attentive, thank you. Padfoot just happens to be in high demand.”Sirius smirked, too, as he pulled on his boots. “Can’t help that I’m irresistible.”Peter, turning, rolled his eyes. “Irresistibly annoying?”Sirius stuck out his tongue. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Wormtail. Remus appreciates my charms, don’t you, Moony-mine?”Remus hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Sirius with exaggerated deliberation. “Hmm… I suppose you’re tolerable in small doses.”“Small doses?” Sirius gasped.“I’m joking, joking,” Remus chuckled, and wrapped both arms around Sirius’s neck from behind him, and Sirius loved the feeling of Remus’s nose pressed against the bit of skin that bridged his cheek with his neck so much he couldn’t help a giddy laugh.He almost forgot other people were present. When Remus uncurled enough that he had room to look, Sirius found James watching them with a small smile.He caught Sirius noticing, however, and cleared his throat, feigning indignation again. “Well, come on, get cracking,” he said. “And just so we’re clear, next time, I’m not waking you up. You can be late and have her cross with you on your own.”Sirius could feel Remus’s exhale of amusement brush against his face. “I thought I was the prefect here.”Sirius tilted his head back slightly, catching Remus’s eye with a teasing grin. “Whatever shall we do, Mr Moony? They’ll be giving him a badge before we know it.”With a dramatic roll of his eyes and a tremendous sigh, James marched forward and grabbed them both by an arm each, tugging them up forcefully. “Less flirting, more prepping.”They laughed, but let him yank them off the bed regardless.The new routine took quite a bit of getting used to. In some ways, they’d managed to keep up their old traditions: for instance, Moony had worked out that he could only comfortably handle up to five classes, alongside prefect duties, without overtaxing himself (though this realisation hadn’t come easily – Sirius had noticed how he’d pursed his lips, while crossing Herbology off his list). As a result, the rest of them stuck to no more than five classes as well, ensuring they all had roughly the same amount of free periods to spend together, even if not always at the same time.But nevertheless, the whole gang could only be together for Charms and Transfiguration now. Sirius, Remus, and James had Defence without Pete; Sirius and James had Muggle Studies without the other two; and Peter would join them for Potions, but Remus couldn’t.It really irked Sirius. He was certain only James’s and Remus’s timetables made any sense, both of them having taken Professor McGonagall’s advice to heart. Remus had chosen all the boring, dense subjects that would help in a teaching career, while James had picked ones that emphasised practical application over theory.Sirius, on the other hand, had taken as many of their classes as he could (with the exception of Muggle Studies, which he convinced James to keep rather than the other way round), and Peter took whatever he thought he could manage. Despite Professor Rallis’s rather ominous warning, Sirius hadn’t even signed up for NEWT-level Divination. It probably wasn’t his wisest decision, but the thought of spending one or two hours entirely on his own was unbearable. Not even Remus had understood him this time, pointing out that he’d be taking History and Runes on his own, and that Peter would be alone in Astronomy and Herbology.But Sirius wasn’t like them. He was convinced he wouldn’t even be mentally present in a class without his friends there. It’d just be pointless.The first day of lessons went alright enough, even if he did miss Pete and Remus in Professor Vaughn’s class. But Friday morning felt quite odd, with Remus off at Runes while the rest of them had a free period. Like moons before they’d completed the Animagus transformation, Sirius thought… the association made him antsy. Strictly speaking, as sixth-years, they were meant to use the generous amount of free time that they were given to complete readings and assignments and such – all of their coursework being at research-level now, their classes more just forums to discuss what the students would have (or rather should have) studied on their own over the week.But Sirius had always had the – in this scenario, rather unfortunate – gift of immediately retaining whatever he so much as glanced at, whether or not he understood it; and James only needed a single read-through to thoroughly grasp concepts inside and out. Maybe two if the wording was particularly esoteric.That left them with free periods that actually were. There was always helping Pete, of course – but neither he nor James had shared Remus’s career aspirations for a reason. Sirius didn’t have the patience for it, often losing his temper and winding up hurting Peter’s feelings, without really meaning to. And James was simply rubbish at it, going at a mile an hour before Peter had even finished digesting his first sentence. They’d all three of them had unpleasant experiences with attempting it in the past, so they didn’t bother now.It was starting to look like the afternoons would be Sirius’s haven; most of their shared periods were after three o’clock. He didn’t even mind that some of those classes included the weekends this year.Consequently, he was much cheerier when he and Remus and James made their way to their first Defence class of the term. They’d been bantering light-heartedly as they entered, taking their customary seats at the back of the room.The young, short-haired teacher they’d met on the platform strode in eventually. Without a word, she walked up to the dais, set her things on the desk, crossed her hands behind her back, and surveyed the class with a shrewd expression. Despite being quite slim, not particularly tall, and could have easily passed for their age, there was something oddly imposing about her presence.“Good afternoon. I am Professor Maddalena Bordastrega.” She introduced herself in that accented English that Sirius remembered from their first encounter. “Welcome to your first NEWT-level Defence Against the Dark Arts class—”But before she could finish, she was abruptly interrupted. Ola Kowalska, a Hufflepuff (NEWT classes were no longer divided by house), sprang from her seat unprovoked, startling everyone.“I am not taking lessons from Bordastrega scum!” she shouted, both her voice and her body trembling. She sounded on the verge of tears. Sirius exchanged a confused glance with his friends, but they seemed equally baffled.“Go back to where you came from, vermin!” Ola cried. “You and your entire family should be rotting alongside Grindelwald!”Sirius arched his eyebrows. Rapid whispers – the name spreading across the room like wildfire. Professor Bordastrega, however, remained as composed as she had been at the start.“Erm… Ola…” June Alderton, another Hufflepuff, tentatively placed a hand on her arm, but Ola shook her off violently.“Don’t touch me!” she snapped, voice breaking. She turned tearful, accusatory eyes toward the rest of the class. “Maybe that name means nothing to you English, but try saying it anywhere in Europe! Ask her what her family has done!”Sirius looked back at the professor, whose face remained emotionless. When she spoke her voice was calm, controlled. “Miss… Kowalska, yes?” she asked, having checked the register. “If you have some ethical objection to my appointment, you are free to leave this class. This is for anyone else as well.”“Erm… ethical objection to what, professor?” Lily Evans dared venture.Professor Bordastrega glanced at her, her expression neutral. “I come from a family of dark witches and wizards, in Italy. They worked for Grindelwald… and others before his time. But I have no allegiance to them. I do not even associate with them.” She paused briefly. “I have been working in Britain for the past three years. Professor Dumbledore, he invited me personally to teach here. You do what you like with this information.”All of this rattled off as if she’d only been reading out from the textbook. It was sombre, treated with the gravitas that it deserved, but at the same time she didn’t bother with some contrived, sentimental display of remorse, either.Sirius couldn’t help the distant flicker of kinship in his chest. He liked her, he decided.Ola, however, didn’t seem convinced. “I’m supposed to forget my grandparents because Dumbledore vouches for you? Their entire village burning down— my family displaced here?”“I would not dream of saying so,” the professor answered evenly. “As I said: you do as you wish.”“You can’t honestly hold what her family does against her?” Sirius spoke up, without really thinking about it.Ola whirled around, glaring at him. “Sure, we’re all so surprised that you’d feel that way, Sirius Black!”The words hit Sirius like a slap. The sharpness in Ola’s voice and the weight of his own name made his heart stutter. His first impulse was to retort, but the fire in her eyes froze him. He hadn’t expected to be dragged into this so directly, so pointedly.The room seemed to shrink, and he could feel the weight of his classmates’ stares. The tension pressed down on him, suffocating in the heavy silence.He opened his mouth, but no words came. A knot twisted deep in his stomach. “I’m not…” he began, but faltered. How could he explain the gulf between him and the rest of his family, here, in front of everyone, under this level of scrutiny?“Yeah, you are,” a voice heckled from somewhere to his right. “Your family’s under investigation too, innit?”“My brother’s still got scars from what Bellatrix Black did to first-years when she was here,” another chimed in bitterly.Sirius inhaled sharply. She’s given me scars too… He could feel Remus’s hand curling protectively around his arm, grounding him, and James shot back with venom in his voice, “Oh, is that why you’re such a prat, Aubrey? Because your family is?”Even Remus responded, rare heat in his voice. “Sorry, but what has any of this got to do with the class?”“Correct – it does not,” Professor Bordastrega interjected. Turning to Ola: “Miss Kowalska… while some things cannot ever be forgiven, I am sorry for your loss, all the same. You are welcome to take another subject if you wish. Professor Sprout, she will understand.”Red-faced, Ola swept her things off her desk, then stormed down the aisle and out of the door altogether. The entire class watched her leave. Professor Bordastrega didn’t speak until she was gone.“Anyone else?” she asked.No one obliged, although June Alderton was shifting uncomfortably in her seat.“Alright,” Bordastrega nodded once, curtly. “I must be clear with you – I am new as a teacher, yes, but still, I am your teacher. Not your friend, not your colleague, not family. You do not need me to explain myself to you. But I will say this: I am an Auror. Professor Dumbledore, he has asked me to come here because of my work with the taskforce between the British Ministry and the Italian Ministry of Magic. For one year, I am free from my duties with them, and in this time, I work here, for him.”She paused, her eyes scanning every face. “My work, it is about fighting the dark forces across borders. Our department was created because of the rise of Grindelwald. And now we fight the Death Eaters, and their leader, Voldemort.” A ripple of murmuring passed through the class, at the name, but she went on, unfazed. “We work across Europe to stop them, before they spread more. I have been here – in this country – for years already, and I see this position as an extension of that same fight. If my background, or my family history, makes you uncomfortable, you may go, like Miss Kowalska. I do not need your approval.”There was a pause as she folded her arms. “Yes, my family… they supported magical supremacy. I do not. I do not hide what they did, and I do not agree with it. My work now is to make sure their mistakes are not repeated. If this is not enough for you that is not my problem. I am here to prepare you to defend yourselves against dark magic. Whether you trust me or not does not change that.”Silence. The weight of her words hung in the air, like a challenge. No one stirred, this time, and even June Alderton’s squirming had finally ceased.“I take this responsibility very seriously,” she continued, her voice softening slightly. “And you should do the same.”Her gaze lingered on them all, as if inviting rebuttal. When no one spoke, she added, “Now, I will say again – if anyone wishes to leave, this is your chance.”Some students exchanged glances, but no one moved.“Good,” she said, turning to the board. “Then we will start with an overview of your Defence curriculum for NEWT-level. Open your textbooks to page three, please.”Predictably, Professor Maddalena Bordastrega was all anybody could talk about, at dinner. James had even nipped into the library, found himself a tome on European wizarding genealogies, and brought it with him to the Great Hall. “If any Potter ghosts happened to be watching, and caught me reading this rubbish, I’d be cursed for life,” he’d joked. He was currently perusing it, flipping through the pages with his mouth half-open. “Blimey,” he exhaled. “They make even the Carrows sound like right angels, these Italians.”Peter, who’d been reading along over James’s shoulder, paled, too. “Bloody hell,” he swore.“Bloody seems apt, doesn’t it?” said James grimly. “You sure you haven’t got a branch that’s intermarried to them, Padfoot? Because it would certainly explain Bellatrix.”Sirius managed to force a laugh, at the joke, hoping it didn’t sound as overly-bright as it did to his own ears. “She’s brave, then, that one,” he remarked. “If they’re that bad, and she stood up to them anyway.”Remus, beside him, surreptitiously reached around Sirius’s back to give his hand a brief squeeze. “Forget dark wizards, Prongs… I’m more concerned about what Madam Pince would be capable of, if she saw you bring a library book so close to food and drink.”Sirius turned and smiled up at him, grateful that he’d known to change the subject. Only Moony, he thought fondly.“You don’t think I can flirt with Madam Pince?” James challenged with a smirk. “Oh ye of little faith. I’m tempted to leave a stain on purpose just to prove you wrong, now.”“If they’d seen the number of girls you pulled on holiday, they’d never question it,” said Sirius drily. “I’m telling you, I’m surprised he didn’t come back with a disease.”Peter chortled, and James sent Sirius a mock-supercilious look over the cover of his text. “Ungentlemanly of you, Padfoot. Just because you’re not a proper Black anymore…”That wiped the smile off Sirius’s face, although he quickly hid it behind his goblet of pumpkin juice. Merlin, he wished everyone would stop talking about it.“But I was right, then,” he said, attempting to shift topics once more. “She was an Auror after all. D’you reckon Dumbledore hired her on purpose?”“Because of Mulciber?” Remus frowned, his voice low.“Or maybe Professor Vaughn,” said Sirius. “She’s been getting death threats from that lot, hasn’t she?”“I’m surprised the Ministry had a coordinated taskforce like that in the works at all,” James snorted. “Makes them sound more competent than they are, dunnit?”“I mean, she’s also pretty polarising already, though,” Pete pointed out. “I’ve been hearing people talk. The snakes are annoyed she’s taken a hard stance against You-Know-Who, without being subtle about it, you know, and then there’s others don’t like that she’s from the family she’s from and that.”“…Useful being a rat, isn’t it?” Sirius observed, humming. “Got our own personal reconnaissance man right here.”“Well, yeah,” Peter grinned. “I could do loads for pranks now.”“Talking of which.” James closed his book, set it aside, and gave them a mischievous smile. “I’ve got a big idea for this year’s inaugural one, lads. Listen…”And they all leaned in to do just that, Sirius grateful for the distraction.He dreamt of Bellatrix, that night. It wasn’t really surprising, given how often people had insisted on mentioning her all day. He dreamt of Bellatrix, and Reggie and lots and lots of pins. The sort that went in pincushions – sewing pins, were they called? – long things that took forever to pierce through skin, both while going in and slipping out.“But you lost, didn’t you?” she’d say, in that grating baby-voice she affected when playing. “You lost! It’s a penalty!”They always did lose, though, him and Reggie. Maybe they’d been too young to notice. Sirius had been the first to bother asking what the rules even were, and she’d refused to tell him, and he had asked Uncle Cygnus and gotten kicked out of the drawing room because children weren’t meant to go inside unless called and he’d tried Aunt Druella but she gave him vague waffling about “games that only boys could play” which made no sense because Bella was a girl.
“…Well, yes, but she plays so, er, roughly, and our Cissy’s delicate.”
Reggie’s delicate, Sirius had thought. Delicate and stupid enough to show it, even knowing Bella enjoyed that; it only tempted her to do worse. Sirius had grabbed her by the hair and pulled and taken the full force of her anger and their aunt’s and uncle’s and mother’s and father’s afterward— all so she wouldn’t notice Reggie cry.Better her rage than her delight.
“Crucio.”
A thousand volts of pain, and Reggie had just stood there, he’d just stood there—It was a careful hand brushing the skin beneath his eyes that woke him up. Sirius blinked, the familiar sight of Remus’s concerned face hovering above his own taking its time coming into focus with nothing but a Lumos to illuminate it. “Nightmare?” Remus whispered, and Sirius nodded, too busy swallowing down the lump in his throat to manage words.Remus’s fingers wrapped around his, which made him realise he was fairly burning up sans an actual fever.The comparatively cooler hand tugged his upward, and then Remus pressed a brief and gentle kiss to the back of it.Despite everything, it made Sirius smile into his pillow. “…Were you always secretly such a romantic, Moony?” he whispered back.Remus exhaled amusement, though his brown eyes were still sympathetic. Scarred and callused fingers pushed Sirius’s hair out of his face, his clammy forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, because he always asked, even though Sirius hadn’t once said yes in all the years they’d found themselves kneeling by each other’s beds like this.Sirius shook his head this time as well. He never talked, anyway. Remus and James and Peter tended to just piece things together themselves – and that only worked for whatever had external evidence, didn’t it, Mother’s caning, the verbal onslaught in the Howlers, the overly-strict do’s and don’ts, the occasional going hungry.They didn’t know about the cellar. Wouldn’t find out about Bellatrix, either; it’d been too long ago. Before Hogwarts.He just didn’t see the point in telling them. It wasn’t as though they could do anything about it, and he already had their sympathy. Possibly more than was warranted.Maybe that made it hypocritical of him to have hounded Remus for the truth in first and second year because he’d been so worried that Remus was going through the same things, but, there it was.“D’you want to do something else?” Remus murmured, now.Sirius closed his eyes, remembering Regulus again. Distant anger sat in his throat, and he hissed an answer: “Break things.”“Alright.”Sirius blinked, confused. When he looked, he found Remus still smiling down at him. “Come on, then,” he whispered. “Grab your wand and let’s go.”“…Where?” Sirius asked perplexedly, even as his body automatically complied, sitting up, reaching for his cloak.Remus didn’t answer, getting up off his knees and parting the hangings for Sirius. He tiptoed over to the next bed, himself; swiped the Invisibility Cloak off the top of James’s trunk with a quiet little, “Cheers, Prongs.”Entertained in spite of the lingering melancholy, Sirius chuckled as he pulled his boots on.As soon as they were ready, he and Remus slipped under the familiar fabric.“Merlin, you know this is meant to be able to cover two grown wizards?” Sirius whispered, half-teasing. “And yet your ankles are showing. How tall’d you get over the summer?”He could feel Remus’s laughter in the way his shoulder shook, beside him. “I suppose we’ll just have to stick quite close.”“Oh, dear, what a pity,” Sirius grinned, pushing up against Remus’s side, relishing in the way Remus curled an arm around his elbow and held him there.They walked out like that, and had to pause quite a lot to adjust the Cloak and stifle laughter and shush each other. Didn’t bother with a secret passage, making straight for the front door, then unlocking it with a whispered Alohomora.“Where are you taking me?” Sirius chuckled, daring to raise his voice to a more regular volume now that they were out on the grounds, with the wind burying their noise.“Shack,” Remus answered with a smile— and before Sirius could ask any further questions, he wrapped a hand around Sirius’s wrist, tugging him forward as he broke into a run.Sirius laughed, grabbing a fistful of the Cloak so it wouldn’t slip. Their feet probably flashed in and out of sight regardless, not that either of them cared at the minute.It wasn’t long before they reached the Willow, used a Stunning Spell on the knot, and scurried into the hollow with practiced speed.By the time they climbed up into the Shrieking Shack, having shed the Cloak, they were both breathless, grinning.Remus walked over to an upturned chair, and without a word – almost casually – snapped one of its decaying legs off, in a rather appealing display of easy strength.“Here.” He tossed it to Sirius, who caught it deftly, blinking at it in confusion. “People already think this place is haunted,” Remus explained. “You can make as much noise as you like.”Sirius shook his head even as a broad smile stretched his lips from ear to ear. “You’re joking?” he said.“No, I’m se—” Remus caught himself before he could fall into the usual trap, making Sirius laugh.“I’m Sirius,” he declared. After a brief second of consideration, he marched up to the chair, and kicked at it hard. Truth be told, running out of the school and to the Shack had already released a lot of that heaviness that had been clinging to his chest. But it was still extremely satisfying to be able to smash his boots against the rotting wood, to watch it crumble.“And I will not—” (Hitting it with his plank,) “Fucking—” (Kicking away another leg that’d been sent flying,) “Apologise—” (Smashing the nearest defunct lamp,) “For it!”Remus whooped, even as he laughed.Sirius was half-laughing, too, when he paused to catch a breath, steady the rise and fall of his chest.Remus wrapped his arms around him from behind, and Sirius sighed, contentedly leaning against him.“You’re magnificent,” Remus murmured in his ear. “Absolutely magnificent.”He buried his face where Sirius’s neck met his shoulder. It sent gooseflesh pricking pleasantly along Sirius’s skin, and Sirius gave a half-startled, half-nervous laugh. “How’s that fair? Those are inanimate objects,” he joked, wanting to change the topic. “Didn’t exactly put up a fight, did they.”Remus refused to let him. “I admire it so much,” he whispered, like a confession. “You, the way you— you’ll not let it win. Even if you were backed into a corner and it was your last option out, you’d never, ever let it win.”Sirius squirmed, the praise like a hundred Flobberworms wriggling in his stomach, making him feel both bashful and uncomfortable all at once. “No, that’s you,” he insisted, turning around. “You – you’re the one that’s admirable, Remus, how you… take whatever’s thrown at you with such, such grace—”Remus was shaking his head no, a wry little smile lifting up one corner of his lips. He pulled Sirius closer by the small of his back, and Sirius’s face warmed even as he brought his own arms up to wind around Remus’s neck. “Hardly,” Remus answered. “All I do is give up, Padfoot. That’s all it is, I just— I accept my lot, and, I give up. Give in. Maybe it’s who I am, what I’m like. Maybe I’m just… tired.” He exhaled. “It’s so much easier to resign yourself, be pessimistic. Safer, more predictable. Can even make you feel a bit like a martyr, you know? All… tragic and important.”“Come on, Moony, don’t talk about yourself like that,” Sirius shushed, tracing a half-circle from the bottom of his lip down to his chin. “It’s because you’re mature. A wise old soul, that’s what it is. Me, I’m just— belligerent—”“I don’t care.” Remus bent slightly, pressing their foreheads together, that bittersweet smile constant as he searched Sirius’s face as if committing it to memory. “I can’t take my eyes off you, when you get like this. Angry. Fighting. You’re… Merlin’s beard, Sirius. Don’t, don’t change. Never change. Never stop— treating what’s unfair like it’s unfair. Taking on the whole bloody world and defending your place in it.”Sirius had to fight the urge to duck his head, he was so embarrassed. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about, you daft creature. You’re my inspiration. You’ve always been.”Remus chuckled. There was a pause in which his eyes flicked down to Sirius’s mouth, and Sirius averted his own self-consciously, and Remus bent, and Sirius braced himself, a bubbly feeling in his chest.Remus didn’t kiss his lips, however, just pressed a sweet little peck to his cheek, right at the corner of them.Swoon.“Sorry,” Remus smiled, abashed. “I’ve, erm, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and, er, I don’t know how.”Sirius shook his head reassuringly, charmed, returning his hands to their loop around Remus’s neck. “You said it yourself – no rush.”Remus exhaled amusement. His own hands held Sirius by the waist, sparking the oddest, tingling sensation. “Have you…?”“Well, yeah.” Sirius rolled his eyes with a rueful smile. “Professor Ainsley.”That made Remus’s grip on his sides tighten. “Doesn’t count,” he insisted vehemently. “If you didn’t want it, or if it was manipulated out of you, it means nothing. Less than nothing.”Sirius smiled. An utterly soothed feeling swept over his heart, and he couldn’t help quipping – or else he thought he’d spontaneously combust from how perfect the moment was.“Oh, good,” he teased, “I’ve always wanted to lose my virginity to Since I’ve Been Loving You.”Remus made a sound caught between a barked-out laugh and choking.“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius laughed, too. “I can’t help it, Merlin, you should see your face…”“Why are you like this?” Remus pulled him even closer, cheek against cheek, so Sirius couldn’t even see him anymore, just feel his mirth in his quivering shoulders.When he eased away, he was considerably less red, though still biting around his smile and not quite meeting Sirius’s eyes.He cleared his throat. “I do like Zeppelin III.”“Mm, you do.” Sirius grinned, cupping his face. “Real blues man, you are.”“Can’t imagine why.”“No.” Sirius nodded sagely. “You’ve got absolutely nothing to be blue about, have you.”They managed to feign seriousness for all of five seconds, then dissolved into uncontrollable chortling.A memory rose up in Sirius’s mind, then, and he made a startled sound, eyes wide even as both hands shot up to cover a sheepish grin. “Oh, no. I have, actually, I have – I’ve kissed Prongs.”“Sorry?” Remus half-laughed, half-gasped.“Yeah!” Sirius buried embarrassed chuckles. “In third year. We got curious, we thought we’d give it a go.”“Why am I not surprised?” Remus shook his head, expression amused and incredulous all at once. “Honestly, you two.”Sirius, still half-hiding behind his hands, peeped out at him mischievously. “Tell you what, then. To make things fair, I’ll allow you one kiss with Prongs too. Just one, though. That’s the rule.”Remus snorted, arching an eyebrow. “Sure – on the day he learns that brushing his teeth daily isn’t negotiable.”Sirius barked out a laugh. “Oh, so then never. Poor sod.”“He’ll live,” Remus huffed, patting Sirius where he held him. “And I’m… already spoken for? I think?”Sirius dropped his hands, a helpless smile stretching across his face. “Lucky me,” he murmured. “Lucky, lucky me.”Remus’s lips twitched, and before Sirius could say anything else, Remus tugged him down by the sleeve of his shirt. “Come on. Let’s sit.”They moved to a corner of the room, Sirius plopping down onto the floor with a graceless thud, pulling Remus along beside him. The wood groaned, beneath their weight, but neither seemed to care. Remus leaned into him, their legs brushing, and Sirius shifted to wrap his arms comfortably around Remus’s middle.Everything ebbed into soft, contented silence. They sat there for a while; Remus’s arms around his shoulder, and Remus’s chin atop his head, all Sirius cared about, now. Basking in the warmth that came with the ease of this thing between them.After a beat, Sirius sighed, glancing around the dimly lit Shack. “We should probably think about heading back to the dorms, hmm?”“Yeah,” Remus agreed, though his voice lacked conviction.Neither of them moved. Instead, they shifted closer, Remus tugging Sirius snugly against his side.The night was cool, the wind outside barely audible, and even the dusty, worn interior of the Shack felt almost cosy, for once. Remus tilted his head until his temple rested against Sirius’s, and Sirius let out a contented sigh, pressing his cheek against Remus’s hair.“Maybe in a minute,” Remus mumbled, eyes already half-closed.Sirius nodded, his fingers tracing lazy circles on Remus’s arm. “Yeah.”They wound up staying like that for much, much longer, there in each other’s arms, and the world outside felt very far away. Even if for just that fleeting moment, Sirius forgot the nightmares and the shadows that lingered at the edges of his mind, losing himself instead in the rhythm of Remus’s breathing, as if all the world’s worries had simply faded into the night.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
JOIN THE HOGWARTS SCHOOL NEWSPAPER!
Your Voice, Your Stories, Our Magic
Are you passionate about writing, photography, or design? Do you have an eye for detail or a knack for uncovering the truth? The new Hogwarts school newspaper, The Quillman, is looking for talented students to join our team! Whether you’re a budding reporter, an artist with a magical flair, or simply love to be in the loop, we want YOU to help bring Hogwarts’ stories to life.☆ Open Positions ☆✒ Editors & Section Editors:Lead a team of writers and shape the content for each issue. Specialise in sections like News, Quidditch, Culture, or Opinion. Bring the latest updates from the wizarding world to your friends.✒ Reporters & Writers:Love telling a good story? Become the voice of Hogwarts by covering school events, interviewing your fellow students, and writing exciting articles.✒ Photographers & Illustrators:Capture the magic of Hogwarts through enchanted photography or create stunning illustrations to enhance our stories.✒ Designers & Layout Wizards:Are you creative and organised? Help design the look of our newspaper, ensuring it’s as visually captivating as the stories we tell.✒ Spell Technicians:Are you skilled in Charms and Transfiguration? Use your magical abilities to enchant our paper with moving pictures, animated headlines, and seamless distribution.✒ Outreach & Owl Post Team:Help spread the word! Work on promoting the newspaper around the castle, manage subscriptions, and keep everyone excited about the latest edition.
Interested in more than one role? Feel free to apply for multiple positions!
════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆ Why Join? ☆- Share your stories with the entire school.- Gain valuable experience in journalism, publication, photography, and design.- Build your leadership and teamwork skills by collaborating with fellow students across all houses.- Get the inside scoop on Quidditch matches, school events, and more.- Work directly with Professor Serena Vaughn, our Editor-in-Chief, to learn the craft of magical reporting.════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆ How to Apply ☆- Pick up an application form from the library for more details.- Submit your application by Friday, 10 September.- Open to students in third year and up from all houses!Don’t miss your chance to be part of Hogwarts history!For questions, reach out to Lily Evans (sixth-year Gryffindor prefect) or visit our office on the second floor of the West Tower.════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆ Make Hogwarts news YOUR news. ☆Wherever the magic happens, we’ll be there to tell the tale!“…What’re you looking at?” Sirius asked, a touch of suspicion in his voice.James quickly tore his eyes away from that poster (crimson letters on pale pink paper, rotating stars scattered across it, not exactly easy to miss), pretending to study one of the other notices on the board instead. “Huh,” he remarked, “They’ve put the Hogsmeade weekends up early this year, haven’t they? Memorise these for us, won’t you, Padfoot?”Sirius grabbed his head and shoved it forward. “Oh, give over. I know you saw her name, you berk.” He sighed, steering James by the shoulder and forcing his gaze back at the corridor ahead – or what should have been the corridor, anyway; their start-of-term prank had involved transforming most of it into a beach. The floor was now covered in sand; the walls displaying seaside scenery (interrupted by doors and portraits and notice boards); and the ceiling showed a permanent sunset.Well, James had missed being on holiday somewhat, and he thought some of his fellow students might feel the same.“Thinking of signing up?” asked Peter, who was flanking his other side. “Because if you do, I might as well. Could probably do the illustration bit.”“If I see either of your names on there, you’re dead to me,” Sirius huffed, and James couldn’t help some amusement either:“No, Pete, we don’t join school newspapers.”“Why not?” Peter blinked.James and Sirius exchanged a longsuffering look.“Do you or do you not fancy bagging yourself a lady-friend this year?” James replied, and Sirius added, “He’s the one who gets interviewed, not does the interviewing, idiot.”Peter managed a rather sulky, “Oh.” It was a full moon, that night, and Sirius was even grumpier than usual about it.“Bloody Potions,” Sirius muttered, sure enough. “I hate having to be stuck in class when we could’ve been out with Moony already.”James hummed, not bothering with a pointless response. Sirius kicked at the sand beneath them in lieu of one:“For our next prank, we should just blast the moon right out of the sky.”James chuckled. “Erm, I reckon the rest of the planet might have something to say about that, mate.”“Tough.” Sirius turned up his nose. “Moony’s more important than them.”“Would you look at Snivellus practically snogging that poster?” said Peter, then, with a giggle. James turned: a few paces across from them, Severus Snape was, indeed, glued to the board that hung on that side of the corridor, ostensibly floating above a languid tide.James narrowed his eyes. It didn’t take a lot to work out that Snape was perusing the same thing as him – if the glimpse of Lily’s name had sparked James’s curiosity enough to skim it, to find out what she was up to, he could only imagine the effect it would have had on her creepy friend. He didn’t think Snape would join up or anything, not now that he’d so publically chosen his side, but still – to steal a look while his fledgling Death Eater company weren’t around to catch him – well, James commiserated, for once. Lily was difficult, near-impossible, to get over.For James had been trying; by Merlin, had he been trying. Every human female in existence who was up for it and wasn’t her, it felt like.It’d work at some point, he reassured himself. Statistically speaking. He needed some patience…They were just passing Snape, now, and would have done without incident if James didn’t then spot Mulciber and Avery approaching from the opposite direction. To his surprise, Snape didn’t do what James had expected him to: move away from the board, pretend he hadn’t been looking at Lily’s poster. Instead, when Mulciber and Avery got closer, Snape turned to them and pointed at it deliberately, talking as he did.James had an inkling he knew what this was about – Professor Vaughn’s name had been on the poster as well, after all. He inched closer as surreptitiously as he could, slowing his steps so that he could eavesdrop.“—Propaganda tactic,” he could hear Snape saying, sure enough. “That Muggle-lover has been given the perfect vehicle to spread her filth. We should warn the house against reading it.”James nudged Sirius with an elbow, but evidently his friend had already caught on, lips a thin line as he returned James’s glance with a knowing one of his own.At an unspoken cue, they both slowed down to listen, almost making Peter stumble.“Disgraceful,” Avery was saying, now. “And look – Mudblood Evans at the helm. I’m not surprised.”“Bound to be a rag full of nothing but indoctrination,” Snape agreed.Mulciber said, “It really is refreshing to hear you speak of your little pet so harshly, Severus,” with a taunting note in his voice. Trouble in paradise, James wondered? Old Snivellus being ditched by even that crowd?“I’m not under her sway anymore, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” Snape’s voice was low and cold, more so than usual. “You know as well as I do, Alpheus… that I wasn’t in full control of my faculties last year. Lily Evans possesses enough skill to brew a love potion.” Spitting the words like venom. “It’s the only explanation. She had me under her spell – literally.”James’s mouth did not find time to catch up with his brain, he was that repulsed. Without stopping to think, he blurted, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”It was too late to dodge the consequences; Snape’s head had snapped around, his expression twisting with fury at the sound of James’s voice. Avery and Mulciber sneered in unison, but Snape was the first to speak, words dripping with malice.“Mind your own business, Potter,” he hissed. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”In for a knut, in for a sickle, James thought, and slipped a hand into his robes pocket, clutching his wand. “I reckon it does,” he sang, stepping closer. “I couldn’t help but overhear this… brilliant little theory of yours, Snivellus.”Snape’s sneer deepened.As soon as he opened his mouth again, however, James – quick as lightning – angled his wand upward, pointing it at Snape through his robes.He whispered, “Sonorus.”Just as Snape started, “That’s right, Potter,” —the charm took effect, and his next words followed in a loud boom that echoed up and down the entire corridor:“—LILY EVANS SLIPPED ME A LOVE POTION!”The words thundered through the space, ricocheting off the stone walls. There was stunned silence, for a split second, followed almost immediately by peals of laughter. Students who had been passing by stopped dead in their tracks, staring at Snape with disbelief and wide, mocking eyes. A group of sixth-year girls, probably headed to Potions as well, burst out laughing, while a few seniors exchanged raised eyebrows and knowing glances.James feigned surprise, then raised his hand theatrically. “Hang on— let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re saying Lily Evans, the most popular girl in school, has to resort to love potions… on you.” He couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. “Merlin, Snivellus, what do you smoke at night? Your dreams sound mental.”Snape had turned a remarkable shade of puce, lips wisely clamped shut so that the Amplifying Charm couldn’t do worse. Peter chortled, “That makes so much sense.”“Does, doesn’t it?” James smirked, folding his arms smugly. “A girl who’s got her pick of blokes – am I right, people?” Turning to the gathering crowd, who shouted back resounding agreement. “A girl like that, going, ‘D’you know what I fancy? Slipping a love potion to Slytherin’s resident try-hard – that greasy-haired git with the face like a smacked arse.’” He scoffed. “Jolly well done. You’ve absolutely cracked the case.”More laughter erupted. A group of passing Gryffindors had doubled over, one of them calling out, “Lily would rather snog a Blast-Ended Skrewt than you, Snape!”“Yeah, on the wrong end!”“Honestly, Snivellus, instead of making up wild stories, you might want to accept that not even someone as nice as Evans would waste her time on you.” James exaggerated a sigh, gesturing to the poster Snape had been staring at earlier. “She’s too busy doing proper things… like running the school paper, and being a prefect.” With a pointed look at the spot on Snape’s robes where a badge should have been, but no longer was: “Something you, er, clearly know nothing about.”The crowd’s guffaws grew louder. Someone heckled, “He’s cracked, that one!”“Tell him, Potter!”“Eyes off our girls, you Slytherin scum.”Before James could go further, however, Sirius tugged him away insistently. They melted into the crowd, James no longer able to see what Snape and his cronies were up to.“What?” he asked, confused.Sirius had a tight grip on his arm, and rare chastisement in his expression. “Noses clean today, remember?” he hissed. “We are not landing ourselves in detention on a full moon!”“Oh, right.” James coloured, realising he’d forgotten Moony entirely. Merlin, Snape might have a point – Lily did, evidently, turn people’s heads.They weaved through the lingering students still buzzing with laughter at Snape’s expense. Peter hurried after them, struggling to keep up with their longer strides. “I can’t believe he made that up about Lily,” he panted, looking between James and Sirius. “A love potion! He’s madder than a box of frogs.”Sirius snorted. “Madder and uglier, but we’ve got priorities. Anyway, serves—” But he stopped himself, for whatever reason, and didn’t speak again until they’d reached the door to Potions.Slughorn wasn’t inside, yet, when they entered. The twin rows of workstations that greeted them were also not that populated, most of the students that’d arrived as early as they had still just milling about, chatting. The Marauders made a beeline for a station near the back of the row on the right; Peter and Sirius commandeering one in front of James, who could simply shift toward the middle of his if he wanted to be closer to them. It wasn’t ideal, but the stations were set up for pairs, and such was their usual arrangement whenever Remus had to miss a class – none of the professors trusted James and Sirius to sit together and not cause trouble.“But I wonder if we ought to tell Professor Vaughn,” Sirius was saying now, a slight frown on his face. “I dunno, I doubt there’s much they can do about the newspaper, but just in case…”“Yeah, I’ve been worried about her, too,” said James. “That lot weren’t wrong – with her and Evans running this, you just know they won’t be publishing trifles.”As though he’d conjured her up by mentioning her name, however, Lily entered the room, just then. James couldn’t help but tune Sirius and Peter out as soon as he spotted her; he would have turned away immediately upon catching himself, he honestly would, except that Lily was marching right toward him.She stormed down the aisle between the rows of workstations, making straight for James’s without so much as a pause. She had that fire in her eyes, as she got closer, the one that tended to call to mind something his mother often told him: Every woman has Durga-Ma within her.James took an involuntary step backward. Out of the corner of his vision, he noted that both Sirius and Peter had frozen in place, too, where they’d already been turned around to talk to him— that was the last he could really observe of his surroundings, however, because Lily was quite, quite close now, and all he could see was piercing green.“What is your problem, Potter?” she hissed. “Haven’t you had enough of making Severus the laughingstock of the school? You’re just compelled to do it over every single year, is it!?”James tore his eyes away from hers long enough to gain some semblance of composure, then returned: “What do you care!? Everyone knows you aren’t friends anymore!”“I care because I’ve got a conscience, unlike some people!”“He was telling lies about you! Insults!”“Oh, I’ve heard, thank you very much! I can fight my own battles!”“Well, I’d have loved to have seen you manage that, considering you weren’t even there!”“Good afternoon, good afternoon!” Professor Slughorn’s jovial bass interrupted, and James and Lily had no choice but to leap apart with twin, exasperated huffs.He couldn’t believe her. Even now, after everything Snape had done, she was still rushing to his defence as if the slimy git had any right to her loyalty. He shot a glance at Sirius, who raised an eyebrow, and Peter, who looked like he was about to speak but thought better of it. Before James could fully digest the ridiculousness of it all, however, Slughorn’s voice interrupted his train of thought again.“Quickly, come in, you’ve still got time…” He was ushering in the stragglers, Snape and Mulciber and Avery among them, all three still visibly incensed.The familiar clatter of cauldrons and crystal vials followed, students shifting around to set up their stations. But James could feel Lily still standing a few paces away from him, the weight of her presence more noticeable with every passing second. She wasn’t looking at him; in fact, she was facing entirely the other direction, her arms crossed tightly. It was the first time he’d seen her look so… unsure.Of course, he realised all of a sudden. She had nowhere to go. Snape, her usual partner, had reportedly not been on speaking terms with her since the incident last year, and her closest mates Mary and Marlene were already huddled together at a different workstation.James might have smirked at the irony of it all if he wasn’t sure she’d hex him for it. He tore his gaze away, trying to focus on gathering his own ingredients, but it was impossible to ignore her lingering so close. He almost started to say something, but it didn’t take a genius to grasp that anything that came out of his mouth at the moment would be the wrong thing no matter what.And, well, as it happened, James did possess a bit of that – genius – so he kept mum.Slughorn, meanwhile, had long begun his droning about their NEWT syllabus— but, halfway through his enthusiastic introduction, he seemed to notice the peculiar standoff at the back. His bushy eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Miss Evans,” he called out cheerfully, “You seem a little… adrift today. Have you lost your partner?”Lily’s head snapped up. “No, I— er—”Slughorn only clucked in sympathy. “Ah, no worries, no worries! Plenty of space to go around… oh! Mr Potter.” His eyes lit up as though he’d just made a great discovery. “You’re working alone today, aren’t you?”James’s eyes went round as he realised where this would inevitably go. Both he and Lily blurted at the same time:“I’m alright, professor, really—” “I’ll find someone else—”But Slughorn waved away their protests with a careless, broad smile, his moustache twitching in something like amusement. “Nonsense – a perfect opportunity for collaboration! Both top-notch students, after all. This will be quite the pairing, I imagine.” He clapped his hands, signalling the end of the discussion, as if that was that.Looking like she’d swallowed something sour, Lily inched toward James’s station again reluctantly. James, for his part, pushed his cauldron as far apart from her as possible, shrugging when he noticed Sirius throw him a bitter look over his shoulder.“We’ll begin with a quick revision of your OWL-level ingredients…” Slughorn was waffling on.Lily – who’d set her things down – drummed on their counter distractedly. James watched out of the corner of his eye as she turned slightly, apparently about to speak to him, but stopped, her head snapping forward again… then pausing, turning once more.“…Look,” she whispered, “I… I appreciate the… sentiment… but honestly, have you ever heard of proportionate retribution? And can’t you think for two seconds— isn’t it obvious why Sev said it at all?”James scrunched his nose up at her. He grabbed his quill, scribbled a note on his parchment, and shoved it across the counter.
Can’t with the chit-chatting. Actually trying to stay out of trouble for once. Don’t care about Snivellus’s excuses.
Lily blinked, a genuine look of bafflement on her face. “You? Stay out of trouble?” she whispered.James rolled his eyes, sliding his parchment back. Need to be around when Remus gets back from you-know-what, he wrote, showing her again.Lily’s mouth formed a silent “oh.” She jerked her head up, eyes flitting this way and that with impressive speed, a look James was more than familiar with from his own gang – she was making sure no one was snooping. Intrigued, he watched as she slipped her wand out under the counter, whispering something that sounded a bit like, “Muffliato.”“There,” she declared, at a regular volume that startled James. “We can talk freely now.”James blinked. “…We can?” he tested, and sure enough, no one turned to look at him – not even Sirius.“Cool.” James cocked his head. “What charm was that? Did you say ‘Muffliato?’”“It’s not, it’s something Sev invented— never mind,” Lily sighed. “As I was saying— he clearly had to make something up about why he and I used to be… you know… or else that lot might have harmed him for causing the scene he did last term.”James snorted, half-scowling at his blameless cauldron just so he wouldn’t need to look at her. “You mean when he quite literally stalked Gryffindor Tower until you were forced to acknowledge him?” he returned.“Would you stop making it out like I’m saying he did anything right?” Lily scowled back. “I’m not. I’m only stating a fact – he hangs around dangerous people.”“He chooses to!” James argued.“Yes, obviously, he does!” Lily threw her hands up briefly, and they made a slapping noise as they landed on the counter again. “Which is exactly why he’s got to lie, innit? He’s got to explain—”“—You? He’s got to explain you?” James lifted both eyebrows. “Unbelievable, Evans. You know, you strike me as a girl with a bit more self-respect than that.”“I’m not saying it’s alright!” she snapped. Evidently, Snivellus’s charm only covered their noise, and not their movements, because the violent gesture that had accompanied her outburst caused Slughorn to call, “I hope all’s well back there?”“Fine, professor,” they responded in unison, and with the exact same impatient tone. The Muffliato charm appeared to only work at a certain volume, for Slughorn acknowledged the shout with somewhat baffled nodding.They turned to one another again: “How much did you hear of what Severus said to me before you and Frank came investigating, last year, anyway?” Lily demanded.James crossed his arms stubbornly. “Oh, sure, Evans. Insult me in front of all our friends, make a dreadful accusation upon my character, and then expect me to oblige whenever you want me to tell you something regardless.”He watched, half-surprised, as Lily’s face actually turned pinkish in response. He’d expected more vitriol, not actual remorse… his accusation didn’t even really hold water, he’d only felt spiteful.He shifted uncomfortably.“…I was wrong,” she murmured, talking to her hands, which fidgeted with each other. “I-I mean, I stand by the, er, general sentiment – that hexing people for no good reason isn’t right. I wish you’d stop, and you ought to stop.” She lifted her head again, brilliant greens meeting James’s eyes directly, fairly taking his breath away. “But, but you’re not responsible for Severus’s choices – no one is. People… people have been through what he’s been through without winding up supporting genocide.” She shrugged morosely. “So, well, erm, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I was upset, and I wanted to lash out at— something, and… you happened to be there.”James could only gawk at her. To say he hadn’t been expecting that would’ve been an utter understatement; something uncomfortably close to shame crawled up his throat. Merlin – he almost wished she’d go back to telling him off.He turned back to his cauldron, his own face quite warm. He was acting like a petulant child, wasn’t he? He sighed. “…We didn’t… actually hear anything,” he mumbled. “Rather, I didn’t, I dunno about Frank and the rest. You and Snape were sort of whisper-shouting, y’know, and over each other, at that. It was all… jumbled, like. Couldn’t make out words— speaking for myself, I just saw him grab ya, and… didn’t bother with anything else. Had to stop him.”When he stole a glance, Lily looked quite sad and faraway. It made his heart clench painfully.He turned again, glowering at the counter. “I don’t like how he treats you,” he bit. “I don’t like how he treats anyone, but especially you – you supported him. You don’t deserve it.”“So you think that warrants constantly humiliating him?” Lily shook her head. “You’re not the judge of that, James. You’re just not.”“Fine, whatever, maybe you’re right,” James shot back, “But how does it warrant you defending him, either? You cut him off. You clearly concede he’s not a good bloke.”Lily crossed her arms, fixing him with a hard look. Not a glare, there wasn’t enough fury in it to justify calling it that. Only something so unyielding and full of conviction that it intimidated James far more than a glare could have.“Unlike you, I don’t only stand up for my friends,” she said. “And at some point you’re going to have to ask yourself, James Potter – do you have principles, or do you just have people you like and people you don’t?”It winded him worse than if she’d thrown a punch. James stared at his shoes. He must have been silent for a bit too long, because he heard her exhale wearily.“…You saved his life,” she murmured. He jerked his head up, surprised, but she only shook hers dismissively. “Yeah, I… heard about what happened. You saved his life – why’d you bother?”James frowned. “What’d you mean, why? He’s… a person, I don’t want him dead.”Lily’s face transformed into something inexplicably like relief, and she snapped her hands forward, as if pointing him out. “So you’ve got it, really,” she said. “You’ve got it, just… give yourself a chance.”James felt his eyebrows furrow. “Give myself a chance?” he echoed, not comprehending.Lily nodded firmly. She was bracing herself with one hand on the counter now, the other resting on her hip so that her pose was at a slight angle. Merlin, it wasn’t fair how pretty she was, even as she stared him down – it was utterly distracting.“To be your best,” she clarified, averting her eyes. “Because… because from what people have said… and from what I’ve seen… that’s probably something rather…”She didn’t finish her sentence, however, fingers rapping at the counter in an almost frenetic little rhythm. “I dunno.” She sighed. “Whatever. It’s not my job to straighten you out.”“No, hang on, something was on the tip of your tongue,” James insisted, and he turned to face her entirely, crossing his arms. “Well, you might as well, yeah? Not like you haven’t said worse.”She huffed, straightened, and returned her attention to her own things. “Leave it,” she said.Before he could think it through, James quickly snatched her cauldron, yanking it toward his side of the counter. “Oi!” she glared at him, indignant.“Tell me,” he repeated, both eyebrows arched as he shielded his improvised hostage from her grasp.“You’re incorrigible,” Lily huffed.But she faced him fully again. “It’s just— I dunno, James, you take so much pride in breaking the rules, you lot, but at the same time you only do what’s expected of you.”James’s frown deepened, utterly confused. “I don’t think anyone in the world could accuse me of that…”“No?” Her gaze was pointed. “Oh, right, yeah, because you always stray off the beaten path, don’t you.” Sarcastically. “Exactly what is expected of you when you pass by Severus, then? When your mates are bored? When you… when you’re talking to m—to girls and you’ve got an audience, rather than… like this.”And now there was a melancholy, almost pleading look in her eyes, beneath the chastisement. James could hardly turn away.“I mean, for Merlin’s sake, pick one,” she said. “You’re going to have to eventually. Is it the rich, popular boy— the Quidditch lad thing— for the rest of your life, or is it…” She paused, her head turning to the front again, and with a frustrated noise. “I dunno. Almost everyone seems to think you’re better. Remus all but bit my head off for implying otherwise, the other day. I just don’t see why… if you are better… you wouldn’t… choose to be that more often. I guess.”She worried at her lip as if hesitating to say what she did next, but took in a deep breath, like she was steeling herself. “Look, I know what Sirius did. I’ve worked it out. And, while, yeah, I was wrong to blame Severus’s decisions on you, that doesn’t mean you haven’t got some responsibility in… I-I mean, haven’t you ever… stopped and considered that, maybe, maybe Sirius wouldn’t have felt so comfortable doing something like that to him if you hadn’t utterly dehumanised him in front of your group by that point? You’ve said he’s a person, but you don’t treat him like one, and— I dunno— maybe it’s unfair to say, but surely that had a bit to do with why Sirius doesn’t appear to feel the same way as you, yeah?”James, contemplating all this, had shifted away from her cauldron absentmindedly, and she pulled it back. With a sigh, “I suppose that’s none of my business.”He found himself at a loss for words, forced to stare at his own apparatus, without really seeing it, for a while. At the front, Slughorn was instructing them on the first potion of the year – he’d forgotten to so much as open his textbook, James realised, and did so, not that his attention was actually on it.There was a knot in his chest that was deeply uncomfortable, and – desperate to be rid of it – he tilted his head toward Lily again. “…Well, I… I’m sorry, too,” he managed.She turned slightly, one eyebrow raised. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”“I’ve got an inkling,” James exhaled, ruefully. Uncomfortable with the sombreness of the moment, he ventured a half-heartedly joking, “You’ve preached an entire sermon, Evans, Merlin— give us a minute to digest. Or d’you want me to write you several feet of parchment’s worth of an essay on it afterward? I can.”That made her features soften, at least. Charmed and rather sheepish, James confessed, “No, I’m not being funny, I actually do feel like I ought to have taken notes just then. That was a lot.”The side of Lily’s face had turned a pretty shade of pink. “I had a lot buried,” she half-shrugged at her cauldron.James huffed. “Evidently.”A much less tense silence fell between them, as they set to doing their own work, or at least attempted to – James was juggling his pieces of ginger root between both palms aimlessly, and Lily kept stealing glances at him, too. He’d caught her once or twice, having been unable to fight the urge to do the same thing himself.Eventually – having set her potion aside to simmer – Lily cleared her throat. “So, er…” She was tapping on the counter again, not quite meeting James’s eyes. Her lips twitched from side to side restlessly, and James understood that she was looking for something less divisive to talk about.Nice of her to bother, he thought, his heart skipping a beat.“I suppose Muffliato will be all over the school by tomorrow,” was what she settled on, at length.James blinked. “Hmm?”She gave him an unimpressed look. “Sev was always complaining about how you’d pick up his spells the minute he used them on you. And pass them along, at that.”James snorted, amused. “Well, why does he feel the need to hoard them, then? If you’ve got spells you’ve worked hard to create, you ought to share them with wizardkind, that’s what I say.”“Oh, and you share yours, do you?” There was a lovely twinkle in her eye.“That’s different.” James pushed his glasses further up along the bridge of his nose. “Mine are mostly for laughs. Entirely pointless outside of that.”But he’d clearly piqued her curiosity, because she turned to him, folding her arms. “Go on, then,” she demanded, “Like what?”Entertained by her attention, and wanting an outlet for the odd, fluttery feeling in his stomach, James affected a lofty, “No, I don’t think so.”That made her gawk at him, blinking like a startled bird. It took everything in James to hide a smile.“James,” she hissed.“Lily,” he returned.She stepped closer. He hummed an off-key tune, nonchalant.She took him by the elbows and spun him around; not enough force in it to have actually done it, but James let her, smirking as he did, so she managed. “Show me one,” she insisted, turning a self-conscious red. It made James grin, that breathless feeling threatening to overwhelm him, send him into hysterics.He drew his wand, a corner of his lips still upturned crookedly as he watched her.“Just remember, you asked,” he warned.Lily huffed, crossing her arms, one foot tapping impatiently on the floor. “I did,” she returned, with a defiant tilt of her chin.Shrugging exaggeratedly, James pointed his wand at her, making a quick figure-eight motion. “Spargere Scintillat,” he drawled.A shower of glitter immediately rained down upon her, sprinkling Lily’s head and shoulders with a burst of tiny sparkles. Lily gasped, stunned, her mouth a soundless circle.For a second she just stood there like that, her auburn hair looking like tinsel. It suited her, James thought, his heart swelling. She looked like a fairy – not the real things, vicious creatures, but the ones out of Muggle picture-books. Tinkerbell and her pixie dust.Then the moment passed, and Lily’s still-startled eyes met his, and she exhaled accusatorily, “James!”James’s grin widened. “Lily?”And they burst out laughing, that tight knot of tension that had been sitting between them instantly unravelling with it. The break in Lily’s concentration must have caused her Muffliato charm to momentarily stop, because Slughorn’s voice called out, “Mr Potter, really! I expect better behaviour from you than—”But Lily, still giggling, held up a hand to stop him. “No, professor, it’s alright! I asked him to demonstrate.” She wiped at the glitter still raining lightly from her shoulders. “It’s not a prank.”Slughorn raised a bushy brow, looking between the two of them, clearly dubious. “Are you certain, Miss Evans? Because I’d hate to think young Potter has been pulling another one of his stunts on my top student.”Lily shook her head, still smiling, her cheeks flushed from the mirth. “Really, it was me. Oh, please don’t give him detention.”Slughorn harrumphed, although there was a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Very well, very well. But no more glitter in my class. This is a potions lesson, not a ballroom.”James winked at Lily as Slughorn turned away, and she rolled her eyes in response, but there was no hiding the amusement in her expression regardless.James could have easily Vanished the glitter, of course, but he didn’t. It looked so nice, little diamonds on Lily’s perfect skin. He inched closer toward her, leaned in and whispered: “Once, I said the incantation wrong, and accidentally invented a spaghetti variation…”Lily chortled into her palm, trying to send him a chastising look in spite of it. “You’re awful,” she half-whispered, half-laughed. “And you’ve spoilt my potion!” Pointing to where little flecks of the sparkling dust had fallen into her cauldron.Still grinning helplessly, James swapped it for his own, an apology. It would be worth the extra lecture from Slughorn to have made her laugh like that.“’Least it wasn’t spaghetti,” he quipped, nonetheless.She shook her head, although her smile remained. Then she fished out her own wand, cleaning the glitter off on her own.Chuckling, James returned his attention to his own work, wondering if he could salvage the potion. Sirius had turned around, however, and he caught his best friend’s eye: he was frowning, his brows furrowed.James responded with a quizzical look of his own, mouthing, “What?”Sirius said nothing, although his lips thinned. Faced forward again.Perplexed, James was about to reach out and tap him on the shoulder, but he heard Lily cast another Muffliato. He turned toward her, expectant.“Talking of avoiding detention,” she said, a tentative note in her voice, “Did you mean that you go to see Remus? After he’s, erm… finished with… you know…”James nodded. “Yup. Madam Pomfrey usually lets us, a bit after moonset.”“Oh, good. Oh, of course Madam Pomfrey knows. Thank Merlin.” Lily sounded genuinely relieved, and even her face showed concern. “So he’s got a proper Healer. And company. D’you reckon I could see him, too? I’d be really, really careful not to let on to Mary and Marlene, I promise.”James smiled, grateful that she cared. “I’d ask Madam Pomfrey,” he answered. “If she allows it, I’m sure she’d tell you what to do.”“Right, yeah, good idea.” Lily nodded briskly. “I’ll do that, then. Give him my best, in case I can’t, won’t you?”“On my honour,” he promised. Merlin – but she really was fantastic, to the core. Actually cared about Remus; reasoned with James even though she thought he was dreadful; minded Snape’s… humanity… after everything he’d done.If you are better, choose to be that more often, her voice echoed in James’s mind.He couldn’t help fixing a contemplative look on his cauldron for a long time.Now that James and the rest were able to join him, Remus and the wolf seemed to be of one mind more often, James observed. There was intelligence to its choices, not a mindless, instinctive ferocity, anymore. For instance, at the moment, now that the night had begun to wind down, Remus – or the wolf? – appeared to sense it, even before the slightest sign of the moon setting. It always did that; didn’t matter if they were frolicking in the middle of the forest, or halfway along the deserted backstreets of Hogsmeade – when it was time, the wolf would perk up, turn right around, and lead the way back to the Shrieking Shack. The rest of them had no choice but to follow.Remus didn’t like them to watch him transform, was the thing. They all knew to stop at the front of his ramshackle prison, when the wolf entered it. Sirius was the only one who’d actually seen it happen, in second year, and that was without Remus’s knowledge; he’d followed him, back then. James sort of understood: the Animagus transformation was different, merely another form of transfiguration, and all he usually saw when he watched Peter and Sirius shift was a sort of… swirling of the air around them, not unlike when transfiguring something with his wand.Remus’s was a true transformation, and James could imagine it would likely be quite grotesque for a body to actually, physically change from a human’s to a wolf’s, and vice versa. He thought, if it hadn’t fazed Sirius that much, it might not bother him, either, but he understood why Remus didn’t want to risk the chance, however miniscule, of James and Peter never looking at him the same way again. Sympathy already seemed to chafe at Remus’s pride, as it was; James could see how pity would be anathema altogether. Or worse yet, revulsion – James didn’t think he was particularly squeamish, but he suspected Peter might be.So, as always, they paused at the barbed-wire fence surrounding the Shack while the wolf went ahead. Sirius, whether consciously or unconsciously, tried to take a step closer, but James in his stag form skipped ahead and blocked the shaggy dog’s path. Dating or not, he thought that’d probably warrant a conversation between the pair of them first.He watched until the wolf had re-entered the Shack and shut the door with a lazy nudge of its nose. Gave it a moment or two longer to be sure the locking charms had done their job, and then shifted back into human form.Sirius and Peter had done the same. “Christ, I’ll never get used to having to listen to that,” Sirius winced, as the noise that gave the Shack its name started up – the moon had set.“Bit better than before, at least?” James offered, but gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder nonetheless – then, turning around: “Who’s got the time?”“’Bout a quarter past five,” Peter answered, having checked his watch. “What’d you reckon, breakfast in the kitchens or kip until seven?” (They normally checked in on Remus around that time. If Madam Pomfrey deemed him awake and well enough, she’d let them picnic with him; if he was sleeping off his aches and potions, they went straight to the Great Hall or, now that they spent the moon nights with him, back to bed themselves, their visiting postponed for later.)“Breakfast in the kitchens; Madam Pomfrey’ll probably take about that long to patch Moony up; then see if he’s awake,” Sirius replied, a tone brooking no argument. James very much doubted Remus would be, but didn’t protest. Sirius’s urgency was not a new thing that came with he and Remus seeing each other at all; the poor thing had been visibly itching to rush to Remus’s side after their night-time wanderings even the year prior, it was only that the two of them had been on the outs at the time, so he hadn’t actually been able to follow through then.And then of course there was the early years, when Sirius would outright nick James’s Cloak and sneak into the Hospital Wing when his more above-board attempts would get him kicked out by their strict matron. James and Peter only did that if they had something urgent they absolutely needed to see Moony about, before the time Madam Pomfrey usually allowed them in that is, but for Sirius it’d been imperative no matter what. James supposed there would always be a part of Sirius that’d never quite trust the adults with… well, anything, really, but probably least of all his near and dear ones.“Sounds good.” He slung his arms around Sirius’s and Peter’s shoulders, steering them along the path back to the passageway that would take them into Hogwarts. The castle was almost totally silent still, when they emerged from behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. James considered ditching the Cloak altogether and simply strolling toward the kitchens – it didn’t seem like even Filch was about – but the idea made Peter antsy, so they had to huddle under it anyway; Peter riding in James’s pocket as a rat so they would fit. They had a quick breakfast (James and Peter would’ve probably taken their time, but Sirius scarfed his own food down, necessitating the same out of them), and then made the trek toward the infirmary.Predictably, Madam Pomfrey told them to come again later, even after Sirius’s usual insistences that they’d be quiet as dormice, wouldn’t disturb Remus’s rest. James actually did believe that – there was nothing that could bring out Sirius’s rare, gentle side like an ill or morose Moony. It was himself and Peter James didn’t trust, the boredom would make him restless. With a half-fond, half-forbearing exhale at the sight of Sirius’s crumpled expression, as soon as Madam shut the door on them James held the Cloak out to him.“Go on, then,” he said. “Just don’t forget we’ve got Muggle Studies at nine.”“Fab.” Sirius took it with a grin. Chuckling, James pulled Peter toward himself by the neck, already twisting them in the direction of Gryffindor Tower:“Give Moony a snog from us, too.”Peter chortled, and Sirius returned, “You wish.”James and Peter ducked into a shortcut toward their dorms, then napped for a bit – well, Peter managed more than “a bit,” but James had to be up for class. Sirius napped in class – then they all went back to the Hospital Wing right after.“You really, really don’t need to come down on top of us having been out together,” Remus protested as usual. He was looking a bit pale and exhausted – faint shadows under his eyes, the skin over his cheekbones stretched too thin. His hands, lying limply on top of the covers, trembled ever so slightly, and there was a hollow look about him like some essential spark had temporarily dimmed, although he still smiled weakly at them all.At least there weren’t any scratches and bruises to be seen anymore, anyway; no bandages or purpling on what was visible of him.“You’d have to kill me to be rid of me,” Sirius declared with a languid smile; he was curled up on the bed with Remus, head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, a careful hand idly caressing one arm as lightly as though Remus were made of paper-thin glass.“Well, how am I supposed to top that?” James feigned indignation, throwing both hands up for the added effect. “No wonder you ditched me for him, Moonykins.”Sirius smirked, and Remus laughed, wincing as he did: “Ow, ow, ow, not now, Prongs, fuck, that hurts.”“Quick, tell a sad one instead,” Peter joked along. “Erm, er— oh! How about that time we went to Honeydukes, and they were completely out of Chocolate Frogs?”Remus snorted, immediately grimacing right after. “What is wrong with you both?”James chuckled. Sirius sang, “Poor baby,” indulgently, then leaned across Remus, and picked up the jar of dittany on the bedside drawer. He scooped up a little, perfunctorily sliding his hand up Remus’s jumper, presumably to massage it into his sides. The gesture was token, no more intimate than Madam Pomfrey would have done, but Remus sort of hid behind his own hair for a bit, what James could see of his face rather pinkish.Evidently Sirius was a lot more comfortable with displaying it than Remus was. Mindful of that now, James obligingly turned to look at something else for a while.And then there was a knock on the door, and Sirius really did have to leap apart with impressive speed. He went from Remus’s side to the stool by the bed in under a second.Madam Pomfrey poked her head in, a rare half-a-smile on her face. “Remus? You’ve got another visitor,” she announced.“Me?” Remus blinked, and James turned, beaming – he’d hoped, of course.Madam Pomfrey stepped aside, and there she was: Lily, pretty as ever, holding a little bouquet of daisies and lavender, her brow furrowed in concern. Her steps were tentative, all of her usual confidence dampened by the unfamiliarity of the situation. She seemed to glance around quickly, but as soon as her eyes lit on the bed, she smiled wide, rushing toward Remus before anything else.For his part, Remus had straightened further, too, wide-eyed. “Lily! What—?”“Oh, you don’t look as bad as I’d feared, thank Merlin,” she sighed, immediately scooping Remus up in a one-armed embrace. (James wondered what she felt like, if she squeezed or caressed, whether she wore perfume and if so, would Remus always feel like he’d been hugged by her when he smelled it…)“Still like death warmed over, mind,” she teased lightly as she eased away, “But better? How’re you feeling? Here, I thought these might liven up the room for you.”All of this in one prompt, easy breath, and with an air of inexplicable authority she turned, set the bouquet on the bedside drawer, and offered the rest of them smiles:“Hullo, Peter.” (Little wave that Pete returned, equally friendly.)And then her eyes met James’s, and James couldn’t have stopped the grin that split his face if he’d tried.“…James.” She nodded, her own smile a touch more hesitant, now. Awkward, unsure. But there was something sort of amused in her eyes – conspiratorial. James liked the thought of that.“Lily,” he echoed, smirking right back.Sirius cut in, “Fancy seeing you here, Yoko,” in an affectedly quiet, almost condescending tone. He’d stood off his stool, had arched an eyebrow in lieu of a smile. His eyes flicked toward James and back again.“Hullo to you too, Sirius,” Lily returned, her own voice just as clipped and forcibly polite.Sirius sent her a smile so tight it was almost a sneer. He turned to James, stepping forward: “Prongs? Can I have a word?”Trying not to sigh, James stood. Lily, meanwhile, had sat down on the bed by Remus’s knee; Remus hadn’t noticed Sirius’s change of mood at all, far too touched by her presence. It was much too obvious to not notice, his face had surprised gratitude written all over it, and the touch of his hand on Lily’s shoulder, however feeble still, was also eager, welcoming.“How’d you…?”“Well, Madam Pomfrey…”Their voices faded into the background as James followed Sirius out of the quarantine room. The moment the door clicked shut again behind them, Sirius spun around, sharp eyes sweeping the empty ward around them. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, probably in her office, and evidently satisfied with this Sirius faced James again. His brow was knit, lips pulled into a thin, tight line. “You invited her to see Moony?” he whispered.James – leaning against the wall now – arched a quizzical eyebrow. “No, she asked. She’s his friend too, why not?”Sirius’s eyes flashed. “But she’s not yours, is she?” he hissed. “In case you’ve forgotten what she—”“Hang on,” James interrupted, holding up a hand. He glanced around quickly, then drew his wand and muttered, “Muffliato.”He could feel the charm settling. Pocketing his wand again, James turned to Sirius with deliberate calm. “Some sort of audio-specific variation on the Imperturbable Charm that she showed me, yesterday,” he explained. “Go on.”Sirius looked even more unimpressed, lip curling slightly. “Charm that she showed you…? Prongs.” He let out a sharp, humourless laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.James sighed, straightening up from the wall. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving Sirius a look that was both patient and exasperated. “Look, Pads… I appreciate the concern, but that’s behind us now, you know? It’s been a whole summer, and we’ve— and I mean, maybe she had a—”“If you say she had a point, I swear on Merlin,” Sirius cut in, a finger raised as if to stop James from even uttering the words. “She accused you of turning Snape into a Death Eater! That’s not even remotely fair— or accurate, for that matter. What point could she have had?”James opened his mouth to retort, then paused at Sirius’s fiery gaze. “She’s apologised,” he said, his voice softer now, though resolute.For a brief moment, the only sound between them was the muted ticking of a distant clock echoing faintly in the sterile quiet of the main ward.Sirius passed a hand over his face. “She’s toying with you,” he said. “She is, and I don’t like it, and I don’t have to like it no matter what you say.”“Well, alright, then, don’t,” James lifted both shoulders in a sort of arrested shrug, knowing his expression was both impatient and contending all at once. “We’re only talking, Padfoot.”“You still fancy her.” Matter-of-fact, and of course James stood no chance of lying to Sirius of all people.He sighed. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, ignoring the pang in his chest that came with the words. “We’ve got to get on somewhat, right? We’re housemates… and, anyway, she and Moony, yeah? I don’t see you giving him an earful about it.”Sirius crossed his arms stubbornly. “Moony’s got carte blanche to do whatever the fuck he pleases with no input from me, after what I did to him last year. And it’s not him she treats like crap, mate, it’s you.”“She doesn’t.” James groaned, resisting the urge to stomp in place with the frustration of it. “She’s honest! I don’t mind – as a matter of fact, I prefer it.”Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose, shook his head. “This’ll end badly,” he muttered, but didn’t labour his point, thank Merlin.He only threw an annoyed look at the door to the quarantine room. “She won’t become one of us,” was his final retort.But James thought of the picture they’d left behind in there: Lily and Remus chatting away happily; how pleased Remus had been to see her; Peter listening on with a keen smile of his own.She’s halfway there, James thought, and knew it was true – felt it in his heart.He didn’t say so, however, having noted that Sirius sounded more like he was trying to convince himself, rather than James.
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Sitting on top of the picnic table in the back garden, a guitar propped under her arm and the sky a pleasant violet above her, Lily mused that it would have been quite a serene summer evening – if it weren’t punctuated by the cacophony of Mum and Petunia having a massive row that wafted outside from beyond the kitchen door.Lily sighed. Honestly, the suburban side of Cokeworth in this weather was nice enough, otherwise: not too hot and not too cold, generally a quiet place that she supposed could be dull to anyone who wasn’t a student returning home from the chaos of Hogwarts. All of the houses had tall walls and fences, giving each the illusion that it was a world unto its own, and most of the families that lived there were ordinary, middle class, not unlike the Evanses themselves. Too ordinary and middle class to get up to anything remotely interesting.If one were to look for something interesting in this town, they’d cross “the tunnel,” which wasn’t really a tunnel at all in Lily’s opinion; it was too small. Up the slight incline of the Evans’s street and down the steps on the right (that nobody really took, because if they were going up said incline they’d likelier be after the bus stop straight ahead). “The tunnel” stood under the road that the buses crossed, and served as something of a border, even if no one called it that.Not in so many words, anyway. All the girls were warned not to go under it after dark, and all the boys that had any rebellion in them (a rarity in the area) could be found loitering there at said time, smoking or vandalising the walls.The natives of the suburbs did not go beyond that spot, however; although occasionally the residents of the other side would cross over, mostly to visit the park, or to hail a bus. Beyond it was a more disadvantaged area, beginning with a brief cluster of small houses – workers’ homes from the industrial era – that gradually gave way to the row of terraced houses that was Spinner’s End, where Severus and his family lived.Lily often thought that Spinner’s End wasn’t aptly named, because it wasn’t any sort of “End” at all; it continued on to the old textile mills, to the river beyond it all. Her own street felt more like an “End.” An end to the suburbs and middle class monotony, in the literal sense; but also, in a more figurative one, the demarcation line between Lily’s life at home and Lily’s life with Sev.For that was where it had all begun, wasn’t it? Crossing that tunnel…A particularly histrionic shout from Petunia brought her back to the present moment, and, reflexively, Lily’s hand picked up where it had paused in strumming her guitar. She wasn’t even aware of what she was playing, at first, the tune only catching up to her a heartbeat after her fingers had resumed their movements: My Bonnie lies over the ocean…It was an incongruous serenade to the argument in the background, maybe, but that only amused Lily in a wry sort of way, so she went on.
My Bonnie lies over the ocean…
“—Perfectly reasonable to expect your, your intended to dress like a self-respecting woman ought to! I don’t want to embarrass Vernon in front of his—”
My Bonnie lies over the sea…
“—Only saying, Petunia, that I worry— if he starts dictating you now, when you’ve hardly been together a year, then—”
My Bonnie lies over the ocean…
“—Not dictating me! It’s natural, and, and right, and your morals are just completely skewed from—”
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me…
The sound of the door clicking open behind her made Lily pause and turn. Her father had evidently chosen to abandon the battlefield inside as well, like she had, and was currently walking up to her with a sheepish half-a-smile.He often looked sheepish, Dad did. Came with being the sort of man he was – a gentle and rather shy creature, which gave him the air of constantly “apologising for the intrusion” wherever he went. He had blondish hair, thinning nowadays and grey at the sides. A straight nose, faint lines around his forehead and eyes, the eyes themselves the same shade of bright green as Lily’s. An average build, slightly stooped not from poor posture but from the way Dad tended to walk in general.She couldn’t in full honesty say that she loved him more than Mum, whom she genuinely cherished just as much, but she would admit to loving Harry Evans with a special love reserved only for him.She smiled back warmly.“Hello, kiddums,” he greeted in that nice, sing-song way of his. Up-and-down on the “hell-low,” and he enunciated it that way, too: hell, stressed on the syllable. Not rushing to get to the end of the word like everybody else.“How’s it out here compared to in there?”“Heavenly, daddy,” Lily answered with a sardonic huff.“Oh, good. Might as well join you, then.” Dad chuckled, under his breath as he usually did.They stayed together in companionable quiet for a while, the only sound other than Mum and Petunia being Lily plucking at the strings of the guitar every now and again.“Who’d have thought Tuney handing over all her old trousers would kick off World War III, eh?” she marvelled, eventually.Dad exhaled another breath of amusement, although when Lily turned she thought the look in his eyes seemed rather faraway.He cleared his throat: “…You know, love…” (Pausing, as if searching for the best words,) “I, erm… I’m not going to pretend I know much about… your world, you know, growing up as girls, and all that. I tend to leave that to your mum.”“Wise decision,” said Lily, faux-loftily, making him smile and pat her on the shoulder.“Still,” he continued, a little more seriously, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should have had a word with Petunia, you know, before she…” He trailed off.“Upped and left for London,” Lily finished for him, knowing he would dance around the subject, unlike her and Mum – and Petunia herself, really. Poor old Dad, surrounded by strong wills.“Right.” Dad gave a nervous laugh. “And, erm… well, that got me thinking about you, too. Would you mind if I… shared a few thoughts, sweetheart? Some of the things I wish I’d said before?”“Dad, say it,” Lily smiled affectionately, twisting around on the table so that they could face one another. “I’m all ears.”He nodded as if to himself. His hands were in his pockets, a nervous gesture. “You’re about that age now.” He swayed slightly, squinting out at nothing. “Suppose we’ll be, er, potentially hearing more about… boys, and such. From you.”“Oh.” Lily chuckled, endeared by how he was so obviously trying, despite how awkward the topic made him. Dad, glancing at her again, briefly, mirrored her smile. He rubbed at the back of his neck.“And as much as I know we’ve raised a sensible girl who makes us both proud, and that you’re more than capable of making your own decisions… far be it from me to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, Lily-pad,” he added with a wry, half-amused sigh. “I thought the same about Petunia – that she’d find her own way – and, well, here we are. Maybe it’s time I gave you a bit of advice. For whatever it’s worth. You know, coming from a man, about men.”“I’d love that,” said Lily earnestly, shaking her head in an attempt to show him he wasn’t meddling. If there was one person in the world whose guidance she’d value like treasure…Some of the nervousness in Dad’s expression faded away, and he took a seat on the bench beneath her. “Is there?” he asked. “A boy?”Lily glanced at her fingers, a distant melancholy sweeping over her heart. She set her guitar aside, clasped her hands together at her lap. “Yeah,” she murmured, talking to her shoes. “He, erm – he says he loves me. A lot. And I think…” She swallowed, feeling a knot tightening in her throat. “I think he really means it. The way he looks at me, dad, it’s like, like I make the whole world spin.”She let out a shaky breath. “Which… I suppose is what I’m meant to want, right…? It’s what everyone wants. But, I dunno. It feels more like a weight than anything. And I think… I think I’ve let him down.” Her voice faltered, barely able to push the words out, and she quickly swallowed them back.Covering her face with her hands, she tried to steady herself. “It’s… hard to explain… witchy stuff… you know.” She dragged her hands back through her hair, attempting a weak smile to make it all seem less significant, like it wasn’t eating away at her. Trying to make it sound trivial when it felt anything but.Dad was nodding, watching her closely. He took a moment to answer; he always did, perfectly comfortable with enduring silence in order to be sure he knew what he’d be saying before saying it.“Sounds to me like you’ve got the opposite problem to our Tuney at the moment,” he remarked.Lily turned toward him. “Really?”“Really,” Dad replied with a small, sympathetic smile. “I don’t reckon I need to warn you about getting tied to some bloke who thinks he can tell you what to wear.”“Oh, absolutely not,” Lily snorted, rolling her eyes. “I’d like to see one try.”Dad laughed, his eyes twinkling. “So would I, to be honest. Might even buy tickets to that show.”Lily grinned, laughing along with him.“Well, obligatory fatherly advice anyway.” He ruffled her hair affectionately. “Promise me you’ll never settle for someone who tries to lord over you or make you feel small.”“Never,” Lily replied, giving him a mock salute.Dad let out a soft, amused breath, but his gaze shifted toward the kitchen door, growing more serious. “But there’s another side to it, love. There are some men… who’ll put you on such a high pedestal… that you lose sight of who you are. They’ll treat you like you’re perfect, like you’re above them in every way. And that can be just as dangerous – because eventually, they’ll wind up falling in love with an idea of you, not you.”Lily’s lips twitched as she fought a smile. “So, what, I shouldn’t date anyone who’s nice to me either?” she teased lightly.He chuckled, a bit more relaxed now. “Not quite what I’m getting at,” he smiled.Then his expression restored some gravitas. “You’re a canny one for not getting taken in by that sort of so-called admiration, Lily-pad,” he said quietly. “For not letting a bit of flattery turn your head. Because, the thing is… when a man falls in love with his own idea of you, it won’t be long before… you start feeling like he’ll only love you so long as you aren’t actually yourself. Like you can’t put a foot wrong, can’t have an off day, can’t just be… human. Because the moment you do, the illusion he’s built around you starts to crack, and that’s when things can turn nasty.”He shook his head disapprovingly. “The trouble with men like that is they won’t blame themselves for expecting the impossible. No, they’ll blame you for not living up to it. And all that adoration that might’ve once felt so nice? Oh, it’s going to sour, quick as anything, once they realise you aren’t the goddess they imagined. And that’s not on you, but you’ll be the one left paying for it.”Swivelling his head back around to smile at Lily, he reached out and clasped her shoulder. “When the time comes, and you’re looking for someone to share your life with, I hope you find a man who sees you. You, exactly as you are, and loves her. Not because he thinks you’re some unreachable ideal, and not because he wants to mould you into what he thinks you should be either. Just… someone who’s your equal. Someone who’ll challenge you, whenever it’s needed, but respects you. Someone who can make you laugh, and knows when to take things seriously, too. Someone who’s as kind as he is strong.”Lily felt her chest tighten slightly. There was a flicker of recognition in her mind, and she pushed it aside as quickly as it had come.“Because someone strong, truly strong,” Dad continued, his voice growing a little softer, “Won’t be threatened by how bright you shine. He’ll be proud of it. He’ll want to stand beside you, not in front of you, not behind you. And that’s where he’s going to be – at your side – when there are storms to weather. Not only when it’s easy.”She swallowed, trying not to let her thoughts stray too far toward dangerous territory. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed her father’s cheek – feeling a surge of warmth for him, and how he always seemed to know just what to say, even when he fumbled for it.“Thanks, dad,” she whispered. “I’ll remember that.”Dad gave her a soft look. “Good,” he said, reaching for one of her knees and squeezing.Lily opened her mouth, but before she could get another word out, the kitchen door opened again. Her mother came stomping toward them, face flushed, arms crossed at her chest.“She says she won’t be coming home to visit anymore,” Mum announced. “Oh, over that? I’m the unreasonable one, here?”Even though there was nothing but frustration in her voice, Lily couldn’t help enjoying the sound of it regardless. She loved the way her mum spoke, a distinct thing that suggested an expensive education but was actually a remnant of Mum’s old abandoned aspiration for the theatre. She hadn’t been able to become Shakespeare, unfortunately, so now she taught him. But the influence remained, her words as crisp and clear as a news presenter’s, and it might have been ridiculous out of anybody else but from the deceptively stern face of Rosemary Evans, it only felt natural.For Mum looked like a queen; as a matter of fact, she looked like the queen. She wore her hair the same way, that prim-and-proper tightly pinned bob, and held herself quite regally. Dark hair and light eyes, Celtic good looks… Lily knew that Petunia would look exactly like her when she got to that age, you could spot the similarities even now, except that Petunia was blonde.“Do you know what the boys would do to girls who wore trousers, when I was in college?” that perfect enunciation continued its tirade, now. “They’d sneak up on us and snip at our clothes with real pairs of scissors. Real pairs of scissors! And they thought it was a laugh. Oh, all of the progress we’ve made, and Petunia thinks there’s nothing wrong with some, some boyfriend forcing her into skirts and dresses—”“I don’t think she really means that she won’t visit anymore, mum,” Lily placated. “She’s only being dramatic. As per.”Mum deflated, a rueful look in her eyes. “Yes, well, I wonder where she gets that from,” she sighed.“Don’t be so harsh on yourself.” Dad pulled her close by the elbows, making one corner of Mum’s lips quirk up in spite of her mood.Mum turned to Lily, coaxing, “Nip into her bedroom and have a word with her, later, won’t you, Lil? Smooth things over before she leaves.”Lily snorted. “You think she’d listen to me? I’d only get an earful about what I wear, next. Oh, d’you know what – I could do, just to return them all. The trousers. I mean, I don’t think much of her tastes… in fashion or in men.”“You and your cheek,” Mum huffed, amused and resigned all at once.Lily laughed, shrugging impishly. “Calling that spade a spade.”“I’ll talk to Petunia, alright?” Dad offered with a gentle smile as he rubbed at Mum’s arm where he still had his curled around it. This was a much better idea – not even Petunia could stay angry with Dad, not really. “Why don’t we go inside, and finish our tea, and sort this all out later?” he suggested.“There’s no use, it’ll all be cold, now,” Mum sighed.Dad stood, the dimple by his lips and creases around his eyes deepening with tenderness. “I’ll make up sandwiches with it,” he assured her. “Take one up to Tuney.”She smiled up at him, gratitude and affection in it, and for a moment, Lily suspected they’d both forgotten she was even there, the way they looked into one another’s eyes. It made something in her heart flutter, and she knew that no words of advice her parents could offer would ever impress upon her as deeply as simply watching them – watching this.Because of them, Lily had long resolved to go unmarried rather than settle for anything less. She didn’t mind her own company, after all.“Come on, Lil,” Dad slung his free arm around her shoulder, now. “Give us a hand. Let your mother have—”“—Some quality time with three or four glasses of white wine?” Lily teased, making them all chuckle.“God knows I need it,” Mum huffed, and Dad said, “I was going to say ‘a break,’ but that’ll do, too.”He steered them both in the direction of the kitchen once again. Lily smiled contentedly, musing about how she no longer understood Petunia like she used to: there was nowhere else Lily would rather be.After tallying the sorry number of application forms that they found on their new office desk, Professor Vaughn assured Lily that this lacklustre turnout was exactly what she’d been expecting.“We’ll put up another round of notices, after the first edition has gone out,” she said. “People will be more likely to join once they’ve got a better idea of whether it would be worth their time or not.”Still, Lily couldn’t help her disappointment. She’d really been hoping for a proper first meeting of The Quillman’s editorial team at last.“I’d really been hoping—”“Fer a proper first meeting, aye, we ken,” Marlene groaned, throwing Lily an annoyed look over her plate of bangers and mash. “Ye’ve only said it aboot five hundred times in the past hour.”“Sorry.” Lily sighed, nudging her own empty dishes away. “I’ve just got no idea what to do with my weekend now… none of the teachers have started setting that much homework yet, either.”She really had spent far too much of her free time with Severus in the past, she thought— and instantly shoved the notion aside.Mary, meanwhile, giggled. “Only you would be disappointed by that, Lil. Anyway, haven’t you been paying attention to your calendar? Tomorrow’s—”“The Hogsmeade weekend, I know.” Lily set both elbows on the table and slumped against them. It was “the” Hogsmeade weekend and not “a” Hogsmeade weekend for a reason; they’d never had one in September before. Normally, the first one would be in October, and then monthly from there. A September trip into the village meant a trip before serious classes, before the new Quidditch season, and just generally a freer one than it might have been otherwise.Naturally, that meant a flurry of romantic rendezvouses being planned for that weekend among most of the student body – as copious as if it’d coincided with Valentine’s Day.So it was “the” Hogsmeade weekend in current Hogwarts parlance. Lily had no date, however, so she exhaled once again.“That’s no use, either. I haven’t got any shopping to do yet, and you lot have plans.”“Yer more than welcome tae join us at the square…” said Marlene, but Lily shook her head glumly.“Even if I had got tickets, which I don’t, I really, really don’t want to see BOOM-Stick. Honestly, BOOM-Stick. What’d you even like about them?”“Search me, doll, it’s this one that wanted tae go.” With a helpless shrug in Mary’s direction, who, in turn, was blushing.“Well, it was the only thing available that sounded like any fun,” she said, half-defensive and half-embarrassed. “For a… a date, I mean. W-Which didn’t really go as planned, so here we are.”Lily chuckled, if sympathetically, and reached a hand across the table to pat Mary on the arm. “I’m really sorry about that, by the way. Believe me, if I’d known Remus already had a girlfriend, I’d have told you as soon as I found out – he can be so tight-lipped about these things.”“Oh, it’s fine, really.” Mary smiled, sheepish. “It’s funny, but all that stress about asking him out first seems to have just… worn off, you know? It sounds strange, but it doesn’t feel like such a big deal anymore, now that I’ve done it. Maybe all the nerves were just about working up the courage to ask. And since he was so kind about turning me down, it doesn’t sting as much.”“His loss,” Marlene declared loftily.“Anyway, who’s to say…?” Mary toyed with the end of her plait, a glint in her eyes despite how pink she’d gone. “Sirius seems not to think very highly of her. It might not even last.”Lily gasped, and Marlene laughed so hard she had to pause and clutch her stomach.“Mary Elizabeth Macdonald!” Lily cried, half-laughing herself, and Marlene wheezed out, “Who are ye an’ whit have ye done wi’ our sweet little Mare?”“That was downright vicious, that,” Lily agreed, still chortling uncontrollably.Mary had buried her face behind her hands, her shoulders quivering with embarrassed mirth, too. “Oh, stop! The point is, we had to put the tickets to use…”“Ach, poor me. I wis jist her pity invite,” Marlene feigned sorrow.Lily shook her head, amused. She was about to say more, but was interrupted by a light tap on her shoulder: turning, Lily found one of their Hufflepuff classmates, Adrian Masefield, standing a step behind her, clutching what was obviously the application form for the school newspaper in both hands.“Hullo, Adrian,” Lily greeted with a smile. She didn’t know the boy very well, but wasn’t entirely a stranger to him, either – they were both on Professor Slughorn’s little ‘Slug Club,’ and had met and spoken at parties before. Still, he was a bookish sort, kept to himself and his circle. He had blond hair, wide eyes, and a large nose. Not too tall, but not as short as his best mate – another Hufflepuff from their year, Reginald Cattermole – either. Adrian wore glasses, and his hair tended to stick out in all directions – a description which (it occurred to Lily) was not unlike one James Henry Potter, except that James’s glasses were round, and James’s hair made him look rather… well… cool. As though it were perpetually windswept from riding on that broomstick.Adrian’s hair made him look a bit like a madman.Now who’s the vicious one? Lily thought, mentally chastising herself for it.Adrian, meanwhile, was nodding his own greeting. “Hi.” He held the paper in his hands out to her. “Am I supposed to turn this over to you?”“Yeah, that’s fine,” Lily answered, taking it from him. A quick perusal with swift eyes told her he’d applied to be a photographer.“You like photography, then?” she queried politely.He nodded again. His hands had slipped into his pockets, which Lily noted had been half turned out anyway, as if he did that a bit too often. There was a rumpled look about him in general – his tie not quite straight, some of his shirt buttons undone, his cloak almost carelessly draped over his uniform and slipping off one shoulder. The slouch of his posture only added to this lazy air.He shrugged, his gaze drifting past Lily as if the conversation held only half his attention. “Yeah, I suppose. It’s something people don’t quite get, you know?” His hand emerged from his pocket, pushing his glasses further up his nose, though they still sat at a crooked angle. “I use a Praktica – East German. You wouldn’t believe the craftsmanship. Most people would go for a Leica, but, that’s so unoriginal. Besides, there’s something raw about the Praktica… gives photos a real grain, a soul. It doesn’t try to pretty anything up, unlike all the trendy rubbish you see nowadays.”He glanced at her, but only briefly, as though he wasn’t entirely interested in gauging her reaction. “I was inspired to pick it up as a hobby because of Cartier-Bresson. But I doubt you’ve heard of him, he’s not one of the posers that get any attention. His work is about capturing the decisive moment, you know? None of this staged nonsense.” He fiddled with a fraying cuff on his robe. “That’s real photography. It’s art, but not in the way most people think of it. It’s more like… capturing life as it really is. Something most people don’t understand.”His eyes flicked to her again, narrowing slightly, like he was expecting her to contradict him. “But I suppose photography is subjective, innit?” he finished, with a small, knowing smirk. As if he’d just delivered some profound truth.“Er… right.” Lily blinked, perplexed. “That went right over my head, I’m afraid, I don’t know anything about photography. Cheers, though. Hope to see you on the team.”“Cool.” Adrian shrugged again, his hands restored to their home in his pockets. Nonchalantly, “Couldn’t help but overhear, earlier. That you don’t have any plans for Hogsmeade this weekend.”Lily turned, slightly surprised. “Hmm?”He shifted his weight, his slouch deepening with it. “If you’re not doing anything, we could… I dunno… walk around or whatever. Check out the quieter spots. The Three Broomsticks is a bit loud, don’t you think?”Lily tilted her head, eyebrows lifting in curiosity. “Are you asking me on a date?”Adrian looked momentarily affronted, as if the very idea was beneath him. “Asking you on a date?” he repeated, scoffing lightly. “I don’t really… subscribe to the whole notion of dates. It’s just constructed, isn’t it? Like, society’s way of labelling interactions… boxing them into these narrow definitions.” He paused, adjusting his slipping cloak absently. “People feel like they have to call it something. But why? We can just… be in the moment, you know? Exist. No need to tie it down with expectations.”“…Right,” Lily frowned, liking him less and less with every word. “Well, thanks for the offer, but I’m alright. Got other plans at the minute.”“Cool.” Adrian took this for the dismissal that it was, if indifferently. He turned around and left, back toward the Hufflepuff table.“Merlin, doesnae that one think he’s God’s gift tae the earth?” Marlene sneered, and even Lily couldn’t help rolling her eyes.“Hippies,” she agreed derisively.“Whit are they?” Marlene blinked, confused, making Lily and Mary laugh.“Never you mind,” Lily answered. She reached across and gave Marlene a pat on the head, exaggerating condescension.Still, even without a proper team, Lily set to work immediately that evening after classes. “Thanks again for agreeing to this, Greta,” she smiled at her Ravenclaw classmate, Greta Catchlove, a plump and golden-haired girl with a perpetually cheery expression. Greta took the folder that Lily handed her with a smile of her own:“Oh, no worries at all,” in the friendly lilt of the West Country. “I’ve already got a number of drafts that just want polishing… here’s an idea – don’t put my name on, and it’ll look like you’ve got articles from multiple writers already!” (With a wink.)Lily laughed. “Excellent plan.”Their voices echoed across the now-empty corridor as she twisted the key that would lock the office door. It was almost curfew, well time for them to start toward their respective dormitories.“—Total conundrum, isn’t it,” Greta was saying, now, “The first edition’s got to be interesting enough to convince people it’s worth reading and writing for, but at the same time it’s only us here, putting in the work to make it that. There’s only so much a couple of students can do, isn’t there?”“I know!” Lily commiserated. “There’s not even Quidditch to draw some attention… Merlin, you know things are dire when I’m wishing for Quidditch matches to write about…”Greta chortled.“Well, having a gossip column would be the foolproof option if you’re wanting readers.”“Never, Professor Vaughn wants the paper to be ‘educational above all.’ Integrity and that.”“Interviews and human-interest pieces, then, that’s the ticket. Oh! How about interviewing Professor Bordastrega? Everyone’s curious about her.”“Poor woman, scrutinised like some sort of circus attraction…”At the turn of a corner, they came upon a group of younger girls – fourth years, by the look of them – huddled together by one of the tall, arched windows. Mindful of her prefect’s badge, Lily considered warning them about curfew being imminent, and started toward them. Too late, however, she realised that they were giggling in that unmistakeable way that could only mean they were deep in gossip, their heads close together.“—And I swear she just does it to keep him interested,” one of the girls said – quite lowly, but Lily caught fragments anyway, thanks to the echo. “I mean it’s quite clever, when you think about it. Potter could have any girl he likes, couldn’t he, so the surest way to have his attention all for herself would be to tempt him. Boys always want what they can’t have more, you know.”“That’d explain it. She’s always brushing him off, but he keeps going after her,” another voice chimed in, a snicker following the words. “I swear I thought they’d fallen out after that last row – but here we are, eh? Watching her pretend to be nice to him again. What a vixen.”“I think it’s a cold-hearted thing to do,” a third girl clucked loftily. “She’s toying with his feelings, in’t she. Poor James.”“I’d treat him better!” the first girl announced, faux-grandly, making the rest of them squeal and laugh in a raucous clamour.Lily’s cheeks flushed as she registered that they were talking about James Potter – and, by the sound of it, her.She kept on walking, but her back had stiffened. Greta, evidently noticing the change in her demeanour, glanced over, but said nothing – following her lead as they passed the group.The younger girls abruptly fell silent, when they noticed them approaching, but as Lily walked past, they exchanged knowing smirks, trying and failing to suppress more giggles. It confirmed her suspicions about the topic of their conversation, anyway. Lily could practically feel their eyes on her— she swallowed the urge to snap at them, knowing that would only make it obvious that she had heard.Once they were out of earshot, Greta gave her a sympathetic look. “Ignore them,” she said softly. “They don’t know what they’re on about.”Lily forced a smile, though her face still burnt. “Oh, I’m not bothered. I feel sorry for them, really – sad, innit, how us girls are incentivised to turn against each other like that over some boy.”“You’re a libber, Lil?” Greta smiled. “Good on ya. You’re right – patriarchy, and all that.”“Yeah.” Lily forced a confident half a grin. They made the next turn, and—And she almost stopped in her tracks. Coincidence seemed to be having a laugh at her expense, because a little ways ahead was the very subject of the gossipmongers’ chatter: James.Lily stared. He wasn’t alone – he rarely ever was, anyway – he had an arm slung around Peter Pettigrew’s shoulder. The pair of them were laughing and twisting this way and that – as if intent on tracing figure-eights into the floor, for whatever reason. Lily noticed that their eyes were turned skyward, so she looked, and found her explanation: Moaning Myrtle was swooping over their heads, and they were evidently trying to keep up with her.Right, Lily realised. They were all in front of the abandoned lavatory that Myrtle haunted.“Oh, no,” Greta muttered, beside her. “Wonderful. Let’s wait until she passes, I don’t want to be held up by her whinging again.”“Are they winding her up?” Lily whispered back, squinting at the boys. “She’s even left her toilet to chase them off…”But then, when relative silence followed, she could actually hear what was going on.“Can’t you stay longer?” Myrtle was pleading in her most babyish voice, her translucent hands clasped in front of her chest. “You always do this to me, you only visit when you want somewhere to have a drink. Humph.”“You wound me, Myrtle, my love,” James called back, the grin evident on his tilted face. “You know I’d stay forever if I could, but alas! A man has duties. What would everyone say if I were to disappear into your… er… your charming little… space, for good?”Myrtle gave a long, dramatic sigh, drifting closer to him. “But no one ever bothers to visit me except you four.”“Well, that’s because they don’t take the time to appreciate the finer things in life, lovely. Like your excellent company.” And even though James laughed, and his tone was theatrical (possibly a bit tipsy, at that), Lily couldn’t help noting that it wasn’t unkind. Teasing, but no humiliation in it.She was right: Myrtle giggled in a pleased, bashful way that Lily had never heard out of the forlorn ghost before. Myrtle swayed from side to side giddily as she sang, “Oh, you’re just saying it. You’re laughing at me. You’re so cruel, James Potter.”“I am not!” James replied, indignant – Lily couldn’t even tell if he was fooling around now. “You’re one of the most interesting people in this castle, and if you weren’t a ghost and I weren’t alive I would never have allowed the utter travesty that is you being alone to stand. We’re like Romeo and Juliet, you and me.”Lily could have sworn Myrtle blushed, or the closest thing that passed for it in her colourless form, anyway. “You called me a person,” she gushed, and James declared:“You’re very personable.” (Turning toward Peter, his nose scrunched up,) “Is that a word? Personable?”“Dunno, mate,” Pete managed through uncontrollable chortles. Definitely tipsy, Lily thought.Myrtle swooped lower. “What’s Romeo and Juliet?”“Oh, just you wait, my marvellous Myrtle.” James held a finger up with a sagely expression. “Next time, I’ll bring you that story. And flowers. I’ll bring you stories and flowers, but I really have got to go, now.”Myrtle cocked her head, an utterly endeared sparkle in her eyes. “Dead flowers?”“The deadest,” James promised, nodding solemnly. “So dead they’d be the Inferi of fauna. I mean flora. Say, does fauna come from fawn, like, deer?” (To Peter again.)Lily couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth as she watched their antics. Despite the acting, there was something oddly sweet about the way James spoke to Myrtle – Myrtle who so often wailed about her isolation, who was used to being the punchline of jokes, and was now giggling like a girl at her first ball as she basked in the coveted attention of a popular (and not unattractive) Quidditch captain. She wasn’t shrinking into the corners of the walls, but beaming – albeit, er, ghostly – at James.He had made her feel special, whether or not he’d intended to.Lily glanced away, sudden warmth creeping up her neck. It wasn’t just that James was being nice – he was often annoyingly charming, especially when he was trying to get a laugh out of her – but this was different. It wasn’t a show he’d put on for anyone’s benefit, least of all hers. He wasn’t playing the part of the hero or trying to win over a crowd. He was just… being James.A feeling swelled, one that often nudged at her around him. She could call it many things, none of them incorrect: amusement. Fun.Endearment.She cleared her throat, heart racing. The noise attracted the boys’ attention, however, both of their heads turning toward her and Greta.“Evans!” James grinned. (Above him, Myrtle shot the girls a sour look, harrumphing as she glided back into her lavatory through the wall.) James straightened as much as he could in his clearly drunken state, drawling, “No, hang on, I know what you’re about to say – ’s’almost curfew. Don’t worry, don’t worry, we’ll head.”“And we’re not— hic— sloshed at all,” Peter slurred helpfully.Composing herself, Lily drew up taller and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.” Huffing, “Fine – just get going before I’m forced to take points, yeah?”“That’s why we love you,” James pointed a finger at her, and Lily had to ignore the way her heart stuttered in response.As the boys lumbered in their direction, James paused just as they were about to pass: “Erm, Evans? You doing anything for the Hogsmeade, you know, whatever, tomorrow?”She turned. His expression was earnest, all of the cocksure theatrics he’d affected for Myrtle gone. Her heart both soared and sank at once, impossible as it sounded: he was clearly asking her out, but how on earth could she say yes? Juxtaposed against those hopeful hazel eyes and dimpled smile facing her right now, was that casually-cruel smirk that had watched Severus suffer by the lake. However she felt about Severus now, it wouldn’t change the fact that James had revelled in somebody else’s pain. Regardless of what that person was, or was not anymore, to Lily at the moment…All of the warmth she’d felt a moment ago flipped over, morphing into pained anxiety. Certainly he was changeable, that much was evident. Undeniable. But changeable, not changed. The term had hardly even started, and he’d already proven that yet again. Even if she gave him a chance, it would apparently just get her labelled as a conniving femme fatale playing hot and cold with him, in the eyes of his adoring fans.“I’ve… got a date, actually,” she murmured. She couldn’t, wouldn’t give him that inch. Just because he had the capacity to be as wonderful as he’d just demonstrated didn’t mean she’d be able to ignore the rest.“Oh.” James’s face fell. He quickly composed himself, however, nudging his glasses further up along his nose. “Who’s, er, whom with?”“Adrian Masefield,” she shrugged, being the first name she could think of. But she was glad for it; this wouldn’t be a lie – she resolved to find Adrian later, tell him she’d changed her mind.“…Right.” James nodded – kept nodding for a long time. Then he steered Peter around: “Right. Have a good one, then.”“…See ya…” Lily agreed.She could still hear him and Peter regardless:“’Oo’s Adrian Masefield?”“Crusty bloke with the hair. You know, from Hufflepuff?”“No, I don’t know. Well, alright. Alright. Lucky git…”“You sure about that, Lily?” Greta asked her, now, with a playful smirk. Evidently, none of Lily’s genuine, conflicting emotions showed on her face – because her companion seemed to be under the impression that that’d been an impersonal, meaningless rejection. There was obvious teasing in Greta’s voice as she said, “I’ve heard Potter doesn’t ask twice, you know. Matter of pride.”“…I’m sure.” Lily forced a smile. Pretending to joke along, “Getting turned down ought to do him some good, anyway. Deflate that ego.”Greta laughed, and Lily tried not to feel too wretched about it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Madam Pomfrey allowed Remus to return to lessons on Friday, after a full day’s rest. His first class was Ancient Runes – one of the few he didn’t share with the others this term. Although he’d been careful not to let on – especially to Sirius – that he was concerned about how obvious the state of him might be, with how slowly he’d be taking notes due to his still-aching wrist or how he had to frequently shift in his seat to ease the pain in his back, he found that, with Lily there, he didn’t have to worry. Normally he only relied on the other Marauders, who’d pull pranks, cause a ruckus, or otherwise create a distraction if needed. But now, he had her as well.Not that Lily made a scene, of course, but when she noticed him struggling to keep pace with the speed of Professor Babbling’s lecture, she helpfully raised her hand, and asked for clarification after clarification, giving Remus more time to make his hand cooperate with his quill. Remus was utterly grateful he still had someone who cared to sit with.“Thanks for that,” he smiled, as soon as the lesson ended. Lily had already gathered her things and packed up at lightning speed; Remus had long gotten used to this habit of hers. This was Lily Evans, after all – always had something important to get to next, people to meet, places to be.“No worries,” she beamed back, even as she stood and swiftly pushed her chair back in. “Will you be alright? Need anything?”Truth be told, he could have used a bit of support getting up, but he didn’t want to say so: the desk would do. He shook his head, a practiced expression of mildness on his face. “I’m fine… just packing.”Lily clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, “Don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever do, yeah? Right, see ya.” —Then jogged away.As soon as she was gone, Remus allowed his smile to fall. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply in an attempt to brace himself. There was an irritating knot of pain sat just at the base of his spine and he had to scan his body for some other spot to focus on, somewhere entirely painless – chest, he decided – narrowed all his attention to the point just like Madam Pomfrey had taught him, and set his palms flat on his desk, pushing himself upright.He winced, standing slowly. Healers and doctors often said meaningless terms to him and his parents that sounded right out of science fiction: cervicogenic dizziness, degenerative joint disease, myopathy, bone thinning, nerve damage. Remus must have inherited his mother’s poetic bent, however, because if he were to describe it himself he’d say he felt like a crumpled ball of paper being straightened out by impatient hands that favoured yanking rather than smoothing it.Hands that didn’t care whether it tore.Focus on the positives, that one absurdly expensive, aged Healer at St Mungo’s with the apathetic, fake smile would say. There are always positives to focus on, one must be grateful…He shut his eyes against the throbbing pain (neck, lumbar, wrists, knees, ankles, fuck, fuck—) and cast about for any. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about open wounds, on top of this… and at least at school Madam Pomfrey’s potions dulled it enough that he could get around without a cane, unlike transformations at home…“Remus?” an uncertain voice interjected. He quickly cleared his face of all sign of grimacing, then turned: it was Mary Macdonald, slightly bowed at the waist, peering at him in concern.“Oh, hullo, Mary.” He restored his smile. It must have been shaky, however, because Mary’s brows were still knit. Anxious.“Are you alright?”She’d half-extended a hand, presumably for him to take, to help him leave his desk. Remus stared at it, stomach lurching, queasy. Was it some helpless, masculine instinct that chafed at being offered a girl’s aid, no matter how egalitarian he generally thought himself? …Was it his own weakness rearing its ugly head, that fear of burdening others?Whichever, it urged him to deliberately straighten, ignoring the pain. “Yeah, I’m only packing,” he said, smile even sunnier now. “But thanks very much.”And with that, he plucked his book-bag off the back of his chair, slinging it across one shoulder… damn it all, the weight of his books pulling it down didn’t help…“O-Oh, that’s good.” Mary gave him a bashful smile of her own. She tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear, and as he rounded the desk, she kept pace – uncharacteristic, but Remus didn’t question it. They were friendly enough by now. “I-I hope you’re… generally… well?” she went on, endearingly awkward. Remus’s smile turned genuine; she wasn’t one to initiate conversations, normally, so must have mustered up all her courage to give it a go at the moment. It reminded him of Peter, and inspired the same sense of protectiveness that he did.“Generally,” he answered, half-quipping. She obliged with a soundless laugh. “How’re you?” he continued.He really had been anticipating a response – didn’t mean to be rude at all. Honestly. But his eyes found the doorway, and his surroundings faded into nothing as a result. Sirius was there, Sirius with his perfect hair that fell elegantly over his forehead, Sirius watching Remus with that usual spark in his grey eyes, warm and teasing but with something deeper simmering just beneath. He was leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed. Had come to “pick him up,” as it were, probably.Remus’s heart was too busy doing cartwheels in his chest to pay any attention to what Mary was saying. He almost sped toward the door, but caught himself.Sirius, meanwhile, had uncrossed his arms as soon as Remus stepped into the corridor, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. They finally closed the distance, and Remus, only half-listening to Mary, opened his mouth, both to greet Sirius and say his goodbyes to her—But then he registered Mary’s actual words.“—S-So I was, erm, wondering, you know…” (Her fingers fiddling with the edge of her cloak, cheeks flushed, looking down at her shoes before glancing back up at him,) “I-If, maybe you’d like to, erm, to come with me, to Hogsmeade, this weekend? J-Just the two of us.”Remus’s eyes went round as he realised what she was asking. His head whirled back around, away from Sirius and toward her: “Like a… date?”Mary nodded several times, so speedily he thought she might give herself a headache with it. Lost for words, Remus stammered, “O-Oh, that’s— that’s really kind of you, Mary, but…”“What’s this about a date?” Sirius’s voice cut in before he could continue. Remus’s eyes flitted toward him, where he’d approached them, amusement dancing in his eyes. Sirius met his, briefly, as well, but quickly returned to Mary, lips twitching.“Ah – asking our Moony on one, eh?” he continued. “You’ve got excellent taste, Miss Mary Mack.” Smiling at her graciously.Mary went red as a tomato, but smiled back. She made a sound – although Remus couldn’t tell if it was a word, or a squeak.Sirius, meanwhile, was scrunching up his nose now, an inexplicably commiserating expression. “Unfortunately,” he sighed, “And I really do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, this one’s got a girl hidden away at home. Haven’t you, Moony?”Remus thought his eyes would never return to their normal shape again, permanently saucers. “R-Right,” he managed. “I do. Have one. I’m really sorry, Mary— I appreciate the offer.”“Oh.” Mary had now morphed into a shade of puce. “Oh. I see. T-That’s quite alright. S-Sorry…” She looked so mortified that Remus wanted to apologise again, but Sirius got there first.“For what it’s worth,” he said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and reaching a consoling hand out to pet at Mary’s arm, “I’m rooting for you, more. She’s a right pain, that bint. Bit psychotic, if you ask me. Dunno what Moony’s messing about with her for – she’s lucky she’s got a pretty face, I guess.”Remus’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s my girlfriend you’re slagging off, thanks,” he said, the chastisement genuine.“He’s right, Sirius, that’s a rather cruel thing to say,” Mary agreed, frowning along despite the flush still colouring her face.Sirius only shrugged, smirking indolently. “Well, the truth is always hard to swallow.” Tugging at Remus’s arm, “Gotta be off, Mary. Have a good one, yeah? Oh, if you’re after Marlene, I think I saw her out on the courtyard.”“Thanks.” Mary offered him a sheepish smile that turned bashful as it found Remus again. “Bye, Remus. Sirius. Erm… right…” And she left, in the opposite direction.When Remus looked, Sirius was grinning up at him like a child on Christmas morning. “I’m your girlfriend, am I, Mr Moons?” he teased.“Hush.” But Remus couldn’t help the amused exhale, even as his eyes flitted around, checking that they hadn’t been overheard. Sirius, chuckling, reached up and plucked Remus’s bag off of his shoulder in one casual movement, transferring it to his own.Remus contemplated this for a second. Not the first time Sirius had done that. James did, too, sometimes, although James tended to ask first. What made their support different from anybody else’s, Remus wondered? Not as awful to bear? With James, perhaps it was that James offered everybody his help just the same, and didn’t single Remus out as some sort of charity mission…With Sirius…“—Haven’t really talked about that, have we?” Sirius was saying, at the moment, under his breath. “I’d thought you’d bring it up first. Precise fella that you are.”The look he gave Remus, peering up at him through his eyelashes, was almost self-conscious, colour high on his cheeks. Remus had to pause and decipher what he meant, but Sirius must have noticed that he was a bit dazed, sluggish, because his expression changed into vague concern.With half a sympathetic smile, Sirius leaned up. “Arm around my shoulder, Moony,” he whispered. “It’s perfectly innocuous. No one would look twice.”Remus’s body obeyed before his mind could catch up. Still, he couldn’t help the rueful glance as he braced himself against Sirius’s much surer posture: “I don’t want you taking all my weight…”Sirius only rolled his eyes, fondly-longsuffering. “Why not? I’ve got the muscle for it. Beater, aren’t I?” he challenged. “Strong arms and that.” The tone half-joking.Remus obliged with a soundless chuckle. Some of Sirius’s hair (it’d gotten even longer over the summer) had fallen over one shoulder, and as Remus’s fingers were just shy of a stray lock, he couldn’t help toying with it idly. “What were you saying?” he murmured.Sirius smiled. His eyes flicked side to side, as though checking that they weren’t being watched, and then— without warning— he jerked to the left, taking Remus with him, barging into a broom cupboard that stood right beside them.Remus unhooked his arm so that Sirius could lock the door, and with this accomplished Sirius drew his wand, muttering, “Muffliato.”Remus made himself comfortable against the wall. Sirius leaned against the opposite one as well, his smile turning cagy.“I mean, like… rules. And such,” he clarified. “You know, er… ‘Don’t go accepting invitations to Hogsmeade from some girl.’ …Sort of thing.”Remus breathed a silent laugh, feeling warm. “I won’t go on dates with anyone else but you,” he promised. “I solemnly swear.”Sirius cupped his own neck, chuckling under his breath, too. “Now your turn,” he prompted.Remus watched him, smiling to himself, bittersweet. Sirius was lovely unguarded. No one else got to see him like this: half-embarrassed, the self-assuredness faltering. One hand curled around his other elbow, not quite meeting Remus’s eyes.Remus reached across, and coaxed his hands into Remus’s own. “…I wouldn’t… necessarily mind it, though,” he murmured. “If you… if there was something you wanted… that I couldn’t really… provide…”He didn’t glance up, so had no inkling what Sirius’s expression would have been, in response. Sirius squeezed his hands. “What’d you mean?” he asked, just as quietly.Remus shrugged. Sirius stepped closer, letting go, so that Remus’s hands had to clasp behind his waist instead. One of Sirius’s own gently touched his face; Remus had no choice but to look.He found furrowed brows, thin lips. “Hullo, you.” Soft, half-hearted quipping.“…Hi,” Remus obliged wryly.“What’s the matter?”Remus sighed, leaning further so his head tapped the wall. “Just a bit achy this morning,” he admitted. “All over.”“Oh, dear.” Sirius’s hand fell lower, tracing aimless half-circles over his chest. “Should we see Madam Pomfrey after this?”Remus shook his head no. Closed his eyes. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he mumbled, “For me to ask you not to, if you ever… if someday you wanted… things I might not be able to do. You know?”Silence followed, and then Sirius realised: “Are you talking about sex?”Remus nodded. When he opened his eyes again, Sirius was giving him a tender, if amused, smile. “Hard luck. I don’t want it with anyone but you, now, so if you’re not able to I’ll just live like a nun. What does it matter?” he insisted. “But if you ever did want to try, we’ve just got to get a bit creative, that’s all. ’S’not all violent shagging, you know… Merlin, I knew we should have gone ahead and gotten you that Playwizard subscription back in fourth year.”“Stop it,” Remus chastised half-heartedly, although he couldn’t help chuckling along with Sirius, either. He reached up and ran his hand through Sirius’s hair, just by his ear. “But, Padfoot, there might be more I couldn’t… not just…”“Remus, I’m sure about you,” Sirius interjected, vehement. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”Something seemed to have occurred to him, just then, because his eyes went slightly round for the briefest second, and he fidgeted. “Or is it that you’re not sure about me?” he ventured.Remus leaned forward, pulling Sirius closer in the same movement. “It’s not even a little bit that,” he assured – barely letting Sirius round out his last syllable. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You. But— I’m also used to wanting things I can’t have, Sirius. I’d… as long as we can be… I’m alright with… whatever. Really.”Sirius shushed him, shaking his head. “I’ll bet plenty of those… the things you want… are out-and-out impossible.” He clucked his tongue. “Bastard of a world. But… it’s all the more reason to go ahead and… accept what isn’t… right?”Remus let their foreheads touch, inhaling deeply. “Suppose so,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything. “And what if—?”“We’re only in school, darling, everything is ‘what if,’” Sirius chuckled. “At our age, everybody’s just trying, innit?” And then he seemed to have heard what he’d said, and made a sound caught between a laugh and a hum. “Me, especially. I’m very trying.”“Only when you’re being mean about yourself,” Remus returned, arching an eyebrow even as he smirked. “How can you ask me to accept and then keep implying I’ve made a terrible decision?”“…Got me there,” Sirius conceded, laughing sheepishly.Shaking his head in fond amusement, Remus reached up and tucked a strand of Sirius’s hair behind his ear.Sirius cleared his throat, smile turning shy. One of his hands lifted, curled around Remus’s wrist, where it still rested against his cheek. “I reckon we’re like The Contenders, us,” he mused.“The who?” Remus queried.“No, not them. The Kinks.” Sirius’s eyes lit up in that mesmerising way that they tended to, when he spoke about music. “You know, on Lola Versus? Come on, you loved that album.”“Ah,” Remus obliged, less because this actually rang any bells and more just to watch Sirius’s smile stretch.“Folk guitar and jazz piano, with electric guitar and rock percussion,” he clarified. “You don’t think it’d work, but it does. It’s fuckin’ beautiful.”Ducking his head in embarrassment, “Cor, listen to me.”Remus’s shoulders shook with mirth and self-consciousness all at once. “Alright, then,” he murmured, “Would you, erm… like to call me your steady, Sirius Black?”“Merlin, would I ever.” Sirius grinned. Looping both hands around Remus’s neck: “And you, Mr Lupin?”Remus smiled, their faces so close their breaths entangled with the movement. “I’d be honoured.” Under his breath, half-marvelling.Sirius’s grin widened to the point that it scrunched up all his features. “Go on, say the thing back,” he teased. Affecting a scolding tone: “‘Padfoot, you’re not to so much as look at other boys.’”Remus laughed. “Prongs might have a problem with that.”“He’ll just have to stay a stag forever, then, won’t he.”Their chuckles intertwined. “I wish I could take you on that Hogsmeade trip, now,” Sirius huffed. “Unfortunately I’ve got my own date with Uncle Alphard to see about first.”“Who wants Hogsmeade?” Remus smiled, idly twirling a lock of Sirius’s hair. “When we’ve got… the Forest… the Shack… so many secret places all to ourselves.”“…Talking of the Shack…” Sirius averted his eyes, for a moment. “There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you about… Remus—” (Glancing up again,) “How would you… would you be… alright with it, if I stayed with you a bit longer, next moon? Stayed until Madam Pomfrey turns up? I’d be careful, and we’d stow the Cloak somewhere near—”He cut himself off at whatever he found in Remus’s expression – Remus wasn’t sure what, himself. His heart had plummeted into his stomach, was all he was aware of.Sirius’s face fell. “I take it that’s a no.”“Pads…” Remus gently took his hands again, rubbing the back of them with his thumbs. “It’s not that… it’s… complicated. Why… why do you want to?”“…Why, he asks.” Sirius exhaled a fond, if humourless, laugh. “Why do you check on me each time I have a nightmare? Why do you write relentlessly every summer, why do you stake out the bathroom the nights I lock myself in?”Remus had no choice but to mirror Sirius’s bittersweet smile, at that. He reached up to cradle his face; he had his answer, now, as to why Sirius’s concern didn’t feel as unbearable as anybody else’s. It was because Sirius needed him just as much. He was no burden.“…You’ve got to understand,” he murmured, “It’s not a pretty sight. My own parents can’t stomach it.”“I know, Moony, I know. I’ve seen,” Sirius reminded him gently. “I wasn’t repulsed, my— the only thing that bothered me about it was that it had to happen to you.”“…I know,” Remus echoed, an admission. It was odd; most of him still wanted to turn Sirius down, but not because he felt pitied. More because he wanted to spare Sirius the pain of watching.“When Bella got me with the Cruciatus,” Sirius whispered, at length, “All I could think about was you. I kept wondering if that was what you had to… and you go through it every month.”“Sirius,” was all Remus could think to say, hardly a breath of a sound. The feeling that swelled tightened his throat, made it seem as though the world had shrunken to the space between them. Neither soft nor fragile, but fierce, burning with the same fire that he saw in Sirius’s eyes.“The thought of you having to bear that alone, even just for a moment,” Sirius continued, voice soft and rough at the same time, “Makes me desperately sad.”The feeling became a torrent. Remus remembered every restless summer night of wishing on stars that Grimmauld Place would be a kinder home – just this once, oh-please-oh-please – and in one swift motion he pulled Sirius against him, shutting his eyes against the raw emotion that swept over his heart, even as he rested his chin atop Sirius’s shoulder so that Sirius wouldn’t notice.It was a warmth that burst like a firecracker, not the usual steady flame. There were words that he wanted to say: big words, terrifying words. Words that a romance of barely weeks couldn’t possibly warrant, and a friendship of five years might but would still not be worth risking the fright they could give Sirius.So instead, Remus managed a hoarse, “Yes. Yes, you can stay with me if you want.”“…Thank Merlin,” Sirius exhaled a silent laugh against his ear, hugging back just as tightly. “I—”But he never finished his sentence, instead easing back enough to be able to kiss Remus on the cheek, a firm, lingering thing.They separated by a hair’s breadth, Remus’s hands returning to Sirius’s waist. Wanting to ease the heaviness of the atmosphere, Remus forced a smile: “Are those all our ‘rules’ sorted?”Sirius grinned, as well. “For now.” Impishly. “Right, what next? Should we head back to the dorm so you can nap and sleep off the pain? And while you’re at it, I can convince you just how nice it’d be to cuddle up with an – if I may say – adorable old fluff-ball of a dog when you’re feeling utterly shit.”Remus laughed. “That sounds perfect.”The rest did him good. By the time the afternoon came along, bringing with it their Defence class, Remus felt more or less in top form again. Which was helpful, because Professor Bordastrega evidently preferred an equal split between theory and practical application for her lessons. She barely spent twenty minutes on the chapter about Unforgiveable Curses and how they operated – quickly moving on to teaching them how to use the defensive spells they already knew nonverbally, as well as an introduction to basic duelling hexes such as the Disarming, Shield, and Stunning Charms.Remus couldn’t help but feel as though they were secretly being taught an Auror’s curriculum. For self-defence, he wondered? And why now? He and James and Sirius exchanged notes about it in the margins of their texts.
Do you reckon all this might have been prompted by something? It seems a bit more intense than usual.
Definitely more intense. Wonder if it’s just for NEWT-level or if the juniors are getting this, too.
Ask Davey/Liam/Farhana later.
I’m not convinced. What would they be preparing us for? Is that even allowed? Ministry-wise, I mean?
If it was Dumbledore’s idea, they wouldn’t be able to do shite.
You’re saying he hired her to get us ready for a fight?
But what fight?
Maybe they can’t tell us? Too much of a risk?
Would they really expect UNDERAGED WIZARDS to fight, though? That’d be mad.
Doubt it. Likelier Prof. Dumbledore wants us equipped to defend ourselves because the Ministry isn’t do—
But Remus had to stop scribbling halfway, because Professor Bordastrega’s voice called out, “Mr Lupin, if your quill is so busy, perhaps you would like to come help me instead, eh?”James and Sirius snickered, and Remus felt his cheeks warm as he stood. “Sorry, professor,” he said.“Come, come. In front.” Professor Bordastrega gestured toward the dais. “Sorry is no use if you are not learning. You will help me with the demonstration.”“What, duelling?” Sirius gave a snort of a laugh, and James didn’t even bother masking his own guffaws.“Excellent idea, professor! Teach him a lesson!”“Shut it,” Remus hissed at them, rolling his eyes. He picked up his wand and started down the aisle toward the front of the classroom.Professor Bordastrega stood soldier-like, legs in a slightly spread stance, hands clasped behind her back. “Bene,” was all the acknowledgement Remus got, that and a nod, and then she turned, addressing the class once again. “Now, nonverbal magic – very important – it shows control. Not just power, eh? It’s about focus,” she said. “When you can cast without speaking, it means you truly understand the spell. So we will practice the spells you have just learnt – the Disarming Charm, Expelliarmus, and the Shield Charm, Protego – nonverbally. We will see if you understand.”She turned to Remus again. “I will perform the Disarming Charm, and Mr Lupin will attempt the Shield Charm. Do not worry,” (Addressing him directly,) “If you make a mistake, I will correct it, for the benefit of the class. We are here to learn. Yes?”Remus cleared his throat, trying and failing to ignore the chuckling he could still hear from the back row, if only because he knew to listen for it. “Yes, professor,” he said.As soon as Professor Bordastrega turned to face him fully, Remus raised his wand, holding it in front of his face, in the traditional duelling stance. Her impassive expression broke for a second, eyes squinting in mild surprise. But she did the same, and they bowed.She lifted her head and her wand at the same time. Remus held his own wand in front of him, focused, already summoning the sort of concentration required for nonverbal magic. He mentally shut out the vague awareness of his friends, the sounds of the classroom. Centred himself.Without a word, Bordastrega flicked her wand. A bright flash of red – Expelliarmus – shot toward Remus. Purely instinctively, his arm swept up with a smooth, effortless motion. A shimmering, translucent shield erupted in front of him, blocking the spell as if it were second nature.The professor’s eyebrow quirked slightly. She had clearly expected to catch him off-guard, but Remus gave nothing away. He kept his own expression steady, and without hesitation, he shifted his stance, ready for her next move.Bordastrega gave a curt nod, acknowledging the block. This time, her wand flicked in a more precise manner, sending a rapid sequence of jinxes in his direction: nonverbal Stupefy and another Expelliarmus in quick succession. Remus moved with fluidity, his wand arm sweeping across his body as he wordlessly summoned the Shield Charm again. The first attack bounced harmlessly off his Protego, and with a graceful pivot, he side-stepped the second.The professor’s lips tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly. With a sharp motion, she cast another Stunner, quick and calculated. Once again, Remus deflected it, without breaking form. He kept his movements light, but precise, every step deliberate, every flick of his wand smooth and controlled.Professor Bordastrega’s stance shifted. She was no longer holding back. Her wand whipped through the air, sending two spells at once: a more aggressive Expelliarmus paired with a nonverbal Impedimenta, meant to slow him down.Remus reacted instantly, his wand flashing before his eyes as he blocked the Impedimenta with another Protego. Just as the Expelliarmus surged toward him, he shifted, turning on one foot as if in a dance, avoiding the spell entirely. The classroom had gone utterly silent by now, the only sounds remaining the tap of their shoes on the floor and the swooshing of the magic.Bordastrega was smiling ever so slightly now, a crooked upturn of one corner of her lips that spelt respect. With a powerful flick of her wrist she sent another nonverbal Expelliarmus – but this time, it was faster, more precise than any she had thrown before.Remus lifted his wand again, aiming to deflect it— but it was too quick. The force of the spell caught him off guard, and his wand flew from his grasp, skidding across the floor.Before anyone could react, including Professor Bordastrega, Remus’ hand shot up, and without thinking, he summoned Protego… wandless.The shield materialised instantly, shimmering between them. Bordastrega froze, her expression shifting from curiosity to something approaching shock. The class was deathly silent.Remus stood there, his breathing unsteady from the exertion, his hand still raised in front of him. The shield flickered briefly before fading away, leaving the professor staring at him with a mix of surprise and approval.“Impressive,” she said at last, her voice carrying across the stunned classroom.It was as if her words had brought the class to life again. A cascade of murmuring followed, and the sounds of James and Sirius clapping and cheering from the back.The effort and adrenaline expended were catching up to Remus, now, and he bent, holding himself steady by the knees as he caught his breath.“They do not teach wandless magic anywhere in Europe, no?” asked Bordastrega, sounding quite interested.Remus closed his eyes. The memories rose up unbidden. His dad, with his wand held out at him, tears turning his pained eyes bright even as the rest of his expression spelt grim determination. Remus, barely five or six, barely out of being a toddler— screaming and begging Dad to stop, stop hurting him—“Stop me yourself, Remus,” voice cracking beneath sheer grief. “You know how. Remember the incantation: Protego. Go on, stop me.”And another jinx hitting him, and Mum’s cries from outside of the room, her fists beating against locked wood, “Open the bloody door, Lyall, or I swear I’ll—”“Werewolves have no wands!” Dad, harsh and pained at once. “And Hunters do, Aurors do, Hit Wizards do! If you don’t want to be hurt, stop me.”“Open— this— door—” Harder thumps, like kicking.“Concentrate.” Dad, insistently forcing Remus’s attention on him, on the pain, and nowhere else.Remus opened his eyes, now, feeling strangely weary.He straightened. “My father taught me,” he said, evenly.Professor Bordastrega made a humming noise. She was appraising him, now, eyes flicking up and down, arms crossed at her chest. “Your father… Lupin… it is not Lyall Lupin? Who used to—?”“Yes,” Remus interjected, sharper than he’d intended. She didn’t seem to notice his tone, however, only nodding as if in comprehension.“Ah, well. That would explain it. When he was with the Werewolf Capture Unit, before his promotion to head office, they called him the Exterminator, your father.”She smiled in a way that said this was meant to be a compliment.“So I’ve heard,” Remus managed – and a heartbeat after, remembered to plaster on a facsimile of a smile back.“Evidently, such talent… it does pass in families.” With one last approving nod, Professor Bordastrega’s default stoicism more or less returned, and she faced the class once again. “You may go, Mr Lupin. Now – can someone else come and assist me? Someone who has not grasped the spells to that extent?”Remus started toward his seat again while appreciative chuckles rippled through the classroom here and there. He felt rather numb.It must have shown on his face, because when he sat down between James and Sirius, he was met with twin looks of concern.“You alright, mate?” whispered James. “That was bang out of order, that last com—”Remus gave him a tight smile. “She didn’t mean anything by it,” he reassured. “I don’t mind. Really.”“…You sure?” Sirius didn’t sound at all convinced. When Remus looked, he found a rare, still expression on Sirius’s face. Sombre, sympathetic, disquieted.Understanding.Remus thought again about trust, and accepting support, and how there was only so much concern a person could bear before feeling like all it was, all it really translated into, was— doubt.Wasn’t it? Ultimately? In all of its naked, ugly truth? Like other people simply didn’t believe that he could… could anything; manage, function, survive.And in lieu of a pre-existing self-belief, a self-trust, other people’s was just crucial, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that just a fact of being human?He didn’t want to forever feel like a child. Like he was taking more than he was able to give back – that he would ever be able to give back – and had no choice but to keep… keep on…“…Not really,” he admitted, quiet. Because Sirius was not that. Because with Sirius, he could give in return— somehow, miraculously, he could… justify his existence. Didn’t have to apologise for being… well, for being.Sirius took his hand under the table, locking their fingers together and squeezing.James gave him a brief pat on the back, too.It calmed something inside of him, and despite the distant melancholy, Remus could feel the comfort. The warmth.Strengthened, he returned his attention to his textbook, and Sirius never once let go.