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Chasing Snowflakes

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It smelled like socks. Dirty socks, old laundry, heavy sweat, and stale food. Everywhere: it was inescapable. Even after a long shampoo, the odor lingered in their hair, giving all the seventh-year boys the same smell. It drove her mad, the way her boys seemed content to have their room smell of crumpled pants sitting under their beds for a week, of chocolate cake crumbs hardened into sweetened rocks, or of Quidditch gear, soaked with sweat and encrusted with mud.

Of course it stood to reason that her boys would all smell the same. They lived in the same dormitory and were joined by an invisible cord that tugged on each of them, drawing them together. Their closeness was rather frightening. They all completed each other in ways she had continuously longed to complete someone else. Now she was tearing their friendship apart and the awareness did nothing to suppress her guilt. They were all her boys. She watched out for them, mothered them when it was needed. She tutted her disapproval when they schemed in front of her, planning out elaborate pranks that somehow always involved Slytherins and underwear flying through the Great Hall.

They were only her boys because of the boy. The boy who'd worn her down, year after year. At first she'd claimed that he simply slipped her a powerful love potion, because no one would ever have dreamed she would have actually begun to date him, but after days of research, she realized there was no antidote for true love. And with a resolved sigh, she'd gotten up from her chair in the library, walked towards the Quidditch pitch and promptly kissed him on the mouth as he descended from his broom to see what she wanted. The life she had lived before that day was such a distant memory, she could hardly see it, like an antique photograph that had faded over time, still retaining the basic picture, but its detail and clarity gone.

She climbed the stairs, her feet feeling heavier with each step, and she breathed in deeply. Socks. Dirty, rotten, socks. Socks that probably had holes in the toes and brown dirt stains on the heels. Of all the smells a room could have, theirs had to be socks.

This was part of the weekend ritual, going to the boys' dormitory. She'd spend time with all of them in their dormitory, hoping it would kill two hippogriffs with one stone. There would be secret touches, fingers playing in her hair, kissing on the insides of her wrists, but while her boyfriend doted attention on her, he'd still be surrounded by his mates, his brothers, talking and laughing, and it was this shared time that alleviated part of her guilt.

The knowledge that in the end he would choose her over them kept the guilt ever-present, eating slowly away at her stomach, making her draw up her knees to her chest as she sat on the floor in front of his bed, listening to the talks of Slytherins, pants, and tasteless potions that made noses turn some shade of fuchsia.

Her boys didn't like the common room and even though they were the only four (five including her) students in all of Gryffindor staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, they insisted on holing themselves in their room. By now, knocking was unnecessary so she just opened the door to their room, completely unsurprised to see Sirius wrestling Remus to the floor in the open space between the four beds. James sat backwards in his desk chair, his hands resting on the back, and his laughter filled the room, almost making her forget the smell, but not quite.

Walking into the room, her body felt heavier than ever. This is what James was going to give up, watching his friends act like first-years, he acting like a first-year. As much as she tried, she couldn't be as immature as James needed her to be sometimes, when he needed the distraction.

"Ah!" cried Sirius, loosening his grip on Remus. "Evans! Was wondering when you'd – ahhh!"

"Thanks for the diversion, Lil," grunted Remus, taking his chance to flip Sirius over on his back.

"Ouch! Christ, Moons, that bloody hurt!"

"Will you give me my homework back now?" asked Remus, sitting on Sirius' chest as he held the other boy's hands by his side.

"Homework during the holidays? I thought you would've waited until last minute," commented Lily.

"Who, Remus? Please," said James.

"Remus always gets it done early," said Peter, "so we can copy."

"You can not copy," snapped Remus. "Give me my homework, Black."

"Oh, we're on to surnames, are we? Well, then, Messer Lupin – ouch! You bit me!"

"Just be glad it's not the full moon."

Lily smirked and sat down on James' bed. She crossed her legs and tugged the sleeves of her jumper over her hands to keep them warm. With a rather loud creak, the mattress sank under their combined weight as James sat on the bed, his hip pressed against hers and his hand automatically finding that soft place on her inner thigh – the one far enough away from where her legs met to be safe, but close enough to make her body heat up uncontrollably.

Remus relented and moved off Sirius. He ran his hand through his short, light-brown hair and fingered a scar that ran across his nose absentmindedly.

"I'm still surprised you all managed to talk your parents into staying here for the holiday," said Lily, "especially you, Remus."

"Well, full moon and all."

"Full moon was last week."

"Right, well ..." Remus and Sirius exchanged glances.

"You're not planning some prank, are you? I've seen Severus' underpants enough times already."

Sirius snorted.

"No prank?"

Sirius shook his head.

Lily narrowed her eyes. "No prank. Then I don't understand."

"Blame James," said Sirius, flopping himself backwards on the bed opposite James'.

"Bunch over," grumbled Remus. "You always hog all the blankets when you get in my bed and it's cold."

"James thought we should stay here for the holiday," said Peter, tossing one of James' Quidditch magazines aside. He sat on his own bed, his feet dangling off the side. "He can't get enough of us. It's rather pathetic."

"No," said James, an annoyed tone to his voice despite the playful tone of Peter's. "It's our last Christmas. When we leave Hogwarts we'll just have to go fight."

"The war," mumbled Sirius.

"Yeah," replied James. "Once NEWTs are over with, we're going to have to stop pretending we're adults, but we'll have to be adults. Just seems like we should have one last holiday without worrying about Muggle massacres or Dark Marks in the sky."

Lily patted James' leg and hooked her arm through his.

"My parents are pretending the war isn't even happening. The bloody gits," said Sirius. "Regulus is prob'ly eating all the sweets that would've gone to me right about now, the great ol' sod. He's no doubt going to wear a ridiculous mask tomorrow too."

"What are you talking about?"

"Lily doesn't know Black tradition," James said, raising his eyebrows at Sirius.

"Oh, right, I forget," Sirius said. "Lemme borrow your wand." He held his hand out in front of Remus.

Remus shook his head. "You always do inappropriate things with it so I'll get in trouble if anyone finds out it was us."

"But you never get in trouble because no one expects you've actually done anything. Bloody prefect. I've seen the pranks you've helped pull. It's not fair. Doesn't matter; I'll get it myself."

Sirius leaned over Remus, placing a hand on the werewolf's thigh to balance himself as he reached to the bedside table and snatched up the wand.

"Accio invite!"

A thick black envelope flew from Sirius' open trunk and across the room, right into Sirius' hand. He extracted his feet from the tangle of blankets on Remus' bed and walked the few steps towards Lily.

Taking the envelope from his hand, she looked at it in awe. The ink was silver and glittered in the light, Sirius' name written in curly print, with perfect lines. As Sirius sat next to Remus again, Lily opened up the envelope and took out the invitation inside.

"It's a ... masquerade?"

"Tradition. Every year on Boxing Day they have this masque ball thing. By invitation only and nobody is invited that isn't a pureblood. The whole idea is rather maddening."

"You never had fun?" asked Lily, looking up at Sirius. His hair was long, down to his shoulders, and hung in uneven strands. The dejected look was still there in his eyes, and had been for a while, as though he was someone who had seen significant tragedy that was etched in his brain. Lily wasn't sure what had happened in his past, but except when acting like a child with his friends, he always seemed rather sad.

"I suppose when I was little," answered Sirius. "Before I was old enough to know better. There's music and dancing and food and liquor – lots of liquor. Mostly for my mum, who's a total lush."

Lily smiled sadly.

"Everyone parades around in these masks and you're not supposed to know who anyone is ... except you always do. Regulus always wore a mask like some stupid African animal. Elephant or the long-necked thing or something. Bellatrix had on some sort of cat, usually black, or a panther; she's so fucking predictable it makes me sick. Andromeda always had something with stars and moons on it. Well, not anymore, she hasn't been invited to a masque since she married the Muggle-born, whatsisname."

"But you didn't know who everyone was, did you?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, s'pose not. I went home during Christmas of first year. Last time I've been."

"What mask did you wear?"

Sirius grinned. "Big black dog."

Lily laughed.

"Even before you did the whole Animagus stunt?" mused Remus. "Impressive. So you've always been a dog in one way or another?"

Sirius grinned more broadly and shrugged.

It had only been recently that she'd been filled in on the goings-on of James and his friends. They'd begun to date at the beginning of the term, only a few short months ago, but immediately she'd been pulled into a new world, where friends were family and loyalty was paramount, even more important than food or breathing. Spending the rest of her life with James was a simple fact they both knew. They hadn't spoken of it directly, but it was there. Something they were completely aware of. The others must've known it as well, for Remus pulled her aside one day when lessons were over and they were all leaving Transfiguration.

"You asked me a few weeks ago about – how I'm always sick."

"Yes ..."

"And I reckon it's time to tell you since I think you're going to be stuck with James for a while."

Then he spilled it – everything. The werewolf, the dog, the rat, the stag. It was mind-blowing. Practically incomprehensible. The extent of their friendship, the loyalty, was something she hadn't even begun to fathom until that point. The lengths they were willing to go for each other made Lily lightheaded and breathless. Never in her life had she had friends like that.

Telling her the secrets was a monumental step. She suspected Sirius hadn't been terribly keen on telling her, but she was in now. They trusted her and they were now her friends as well. Except that including her meant that they all knew she was a part of James now, that the two of them were more than fleeting hormones and lustful emotions.

"Don't you like to dance?" asked Lily.

Remus laughed loudly. "I suppose you've never seen him dance?"

"That's probably why he hasn't been invited back to a masque since he was twelve," added in Peter, hooting his own laughter into a pillow.

Lily looked at James, who was grinning, a bit of unruly black hair slipping across his forehead. She pushed it back with her fingers.

"He's shit at dancing," said James, his breath warm against her cheek.

"I am not!" snarled Sirius. "You're just jealous of my slick moves."

"Oh, you think you have all the right moves," muttered Remus. "I'm just not so sure they're the right ones."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, but soon he was grinning as well. "You're jealous too."

Remus looked over at Lily. "I think wizarding masques are different than Muggle ones."

"Oh? How so?"

"The masks are all charmed," said James. "Right, Padfoot?"

"Huh?" Sirius turned his head away from Remus and looked at James. 'Oh, yeah, they are." He turned his gaze to Lily. "Charmed to your face until midnight. If you have a full-faced mask then the mouth bits move when you talk or eat."

"Masques could be fun, I'd wager."

"Not with my family. Bloody great sods, the lot of them."

"Sirius is especially moody around the holidays," explained Remus. "He gets himself into a mood and will brood for days. A lot like James, actually."

"I do not brood!" exclaimed James.

"You used to," said Peter, "whenever Lily would turn you down for a date."

"Well, we don't have that problem any more, do we?" James' tone suggested the topic was now closed.

"Wouldn't you be moody if your parents didn't want you home for Christmas?"

"But you got that invitation," said Lily. "Surely that meant—"

"It wasn't sent so I'd come home. It was sent to remind me of what I'm not allowed to be a part of anymore. Came with a rather nasty note from my mum, telling me I could come back for it if I stopped acting like such a blood-traitor and a fool. If I stopped disgracing my family. Rot like that. I left that house a year ago, though. I'd change my name if I could. Be someone different."

"If the laws were more lax about changing names, you'd choose something stupid like Sirius Rock Star," commented Remus.

"Ho, ho, feeling funny tonight?"

Remus nodded. "Oh, definitely."

"The whole idea of my family parading around in masks is rather ironic," Sirius said, turning his attention back to Lily.

"How so?"

Sirius shrugged. "They spend their whole lives pretending they're people they're not. My mum tries to convince everyone she doesn't have rum with her cereal in the morning or have her whisky with a side of tea in the afternoons. My father pretends to be loyal to us – er, them. My mum and brother. Really, though, he's the biggest git of them all. He's got at least one mistress, some blonde bint that he's put up in Muggle London."

"I thought he hates Muggles?"

"Oh, he does, believe me, he does, but that's the point. Mum would never suspect he'd actually go to Muggle London to get his kicks, y'know? And my brother is just a huge git. A complete idiot. He's more like me than either of us actually want to admit, but he doesn't have the bullocks to tell my parents to sod off. He just pretends to be like them when I know – I know – he doesn't want to be. He's got these plans to join You Know Who as well. He's going to fight for a cause that he can't even talk about because they'll get arrested. Fighting for something you can't talk about? What's the point?"

"I think everyone wears a mask," said Lily. "Sometimes it's a metaphorical one, but it's still there."

"I'm neither drunk nor high," said Sirius with a snort, "and I never have philosophical conversations unless under the influence."

"Think about it – when I'm at home, around my relatives, I have to pretend that the boarding school I go to teaches me maths and sciences and that I read Shakespeare and go to football or rugby games on the weekends. Other than my mother and father and sister, my family doesn't know the truth about me."

"Remus wears a mask!" Peter piped up.

"Shut up, Pete," snapped Sirius, his eyes looking rather dangerous.

"I meant because he's a werewolf and everyone thinks he has some incurable Muggle disease."

"Right," said Remus, "that's true."

"I don't wear a mask," said James. "Do I?"

"You used to," said Lily lightly, trying not to invoke an argument or hurt James' feelings. "When we first started dating you tried too hard and weren't always yourself. You tried to be what you thought I wanted you to be when really I just wanted to be you. The day you stopped the pretense and relaxed and made a joke was when I had a better glimpse of who you really were."

James looked as though he was considering this. "I suppose."

From across the room, Sirius rolled his eyes.

"What's your mask, Peter?" Lily asked, looking at the plump boy.

"My parents don't know how dumb I am."

"Oh, Peter, you're not dumb."

"Am so," said Peter rather sadly. "Summer after fifth year, James sent me his OWL results so I could magic my name over his so my parents wouldn't see that the only owl I got was an A in Muggle Studies."

"But you're an Animagus," argued Lily. "There's loads of adult wizards who can't even do that."

"Peter has to study to earn good marks," said Remus, "but he doesn't work hard enough. He's not stupid. Just lazy." He said the last part to Peter, who had gotten up from his bed and retrieved his pajamas from his trunk.

"I'm going to change and head to bed – don't worry, I'll silence my bed curtains so you lot won't bother me."

Lily frowned and watched the boy leave the dormitory to go off to the loo to change.

"What about you, Sirius," she asked. "What's your mask?"

"Don't have one."

"Everyone has one."

"Nope."

"Sirius."

"Well. Perhaps I have one, but no one knows it."

"No one?" repeated Lily, feeling disappointed.

"Well, maybe some people know – but I'm not telling you who."

Lily sniggered. "Sure, Sirius."

The door to the dormitory opened and Peter slipped inside, went to his bed, and shut the curtains. Lily felt a twinge of sadness for the boy, but it was quickly dissolved when James kissed her neck.

"I swear to Merlin, would you two take it somewhere else?"

James lifted two fingers in Sirius' direction.

"Why don't we all just go down to the common room?" suggested Lily. "Just in case we keep Peter up …" She didn't want to add that her faith in his silencing charms was lacking because he'd probably hear her.

In silent agreement, they all got up and left the dormitory, walking down the stairs towards the common room. The fire had almost completely died out and Lily took her wand out from her pocket and tried to reignite it.

This was her favorite time of year, when she had to reach for a second blanket to keep warm at night, when she could see her breath curl against the air, when the snow covered the ground in a soft powder. The snow was probably the best part of winter. She couldn't help but smile as she stood next to one of the windows, noticing it had begun to fall. Soon, it would drape across the countryside, obscuring the land with white. It was pure, then, without track marks or footprints from students. There wasn't a wind tonight; the flakes fluttered straight to the ground. Lily had an overwhelming urge to go outside and play.

"I think I miss the masques," said Sirius quietly.

Lily turned around. Sirius had perched himself on the arm of the sofa, his bare feet seeking warmth underneath Remus' thigh as he sat about a foot away from Sirius on the cushion. James was on the other side of Remus, lounging, as though he hadn't a care.

"Why's that?" she asked.

"It was fun – when I was a kid. I'd put on the mask right after breakfast and wear it all day, even though the party wasn't until dinnertime. And I'd run around on all fours and growl at the house-elves and bite my brother."

"What a loving brother you must've been."

"Oh, Regulus deserved it," said Sirius. "No, I think it's that … well – I think it's because now I can't run around on all fours – well, I can, obviously, since I'm an Animagus, but I can't do it when I'm in boy-form. There's no fun in it anymore."

"War," said Remus, looking at the fire. "Doesn't make anything fun anymore. It's always nagging at the back of my brain and printed on almost every page of the Prophet. I don't want to read it, but I can't help myself."

"Gotta stay informed," said Sirius. "Gotta know what we're up against."

Lily glanced at James. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I miss being a kid."

"You lot looked awfully childish when I first went upstairs, wrestling each other over homework."

A smile tugged on the corners of Remus' mouth and James grinned broadly.

"Yeah, but we're young for short periods of time," said Sirius, "and then Remus is off reminding us again about books and studying for NEWTs. Or James is shoving the paper in our faces, ranting about the latest thing You Know Who's done – not that I wouldn't do it, too, Prongs, but you're just the only one of us who gets the Prophet so you read it first."

"I miss being a kid," said James. "Maybe that's my mask now. I really wanna fight with Dumbledore and stop all this shit with Muggles and Muggle-borns being killed. I feel bloody useless here at Hogwarts. And I think that, really, I just wanna be twelve again. Remember twelve? So bloody easy. It was all sugar quills and dungbombs."

"Now it's dungbombs and Arthimancy," said Sirius, "which I'm still hacked off at you, Remus, for talking me into taking."

"Didn't want to suffer through it alone," said Remus. "I don't really suppose I ever felt much like a kid. Until I came here I hardly ever thought about anything 'cept being a werewolf."

"We gave you good distraction," said Sirius, nudging the other boy.

"Worried me to the point of heart attack with all your pranks. So thought I was going to get expelled at least once a week."

"But some of it was fun, wasn't it?" asked Sirius, a worried expression creeping across his dark, but handsome, features.

Remus nodded. He sighed. "I don't like this talk of masks. Though, everyone here knows I'm a werewolf and – well, it's good not to have secrets sometimes."

Sirius snorted and Lily saw a flicker of – something – move across his face. She wondered what Sirius' mask was.

"When was the last time we even played Exploding Snap?"

"Sixth year," answered Remus automatically. "After March things seemed to get serious."

"Less pranks, more homework, more war," added Sirius.

"We should go outside," blurted Lily.

The three boys gazed at her with questioning looks.

"It's snowing. We should be children while we still can. I'm still seventeen. I'm of age, but I shouldn't have to be an adult all the time. And, Remus, you're still seventeen too. We're all acting too old today. Besides, it's Christmas holiday, yeah? We should have at least one night of fun before we leave Hogwarts and are faced with adult responsibilities."

"Yeah, like cooking for ourselves and washing our laundry."

"Oh, what do you know, James?" teased Lily. "You lot don't wash your socks now and the house-elves do it for you! What's going to change when you're out on your own?"

"I wash my socks!" cried James.

"So that's why your dormitory smells like feet all the time?"

"It does not," said James, looking at his two friends for help.

"It does, mate," said Sirius. "Dirty socks and something else …"

"Sweat," offered Lily, "and stale food."

"Apple tart," said Remus. "James nicked some from the kitchens last week and I still think a bit of it is under something and beginning to rot."

"Let's go outside," said Lily. "Build a snowman or have a snowball fight. You know, just have some fun before we get old."

"Why, Evans," said Sirius, winking, "I didn't know you had a wild streak."

Lily grinned, knowing her teeth were showing as white as the snow outside. "You've no idea about my wild streak."

James coughed into his fist and Sirius nearly fell off the sofa in shock.

"You don't think playing in the snow is a waste of time?" asked Sirius.

Lily shook her head. Perhaps she would have, before she began dating James, but now it seemed important that they do something wild and childish, take off all the masks and pretenses and just be for a while.

"You're Head Girl," commented Remus, looking slightly skeptical. "Shouldn't you be worried about getting caught leaving the tower after curfew?"

"Oh, I think Dumbledore will forgive a frolic in the snow," said Lily. "It's not as though there's lessons tomorrow."

"You're an awful example," said Sirius. "I think I'm in love with you."

"Hey!" cried James. "Watch it. You have plenty of girlfriends already, yeah? Go find one of them to snog and stay away from mine."

"I don't have girlfriends," said Sirius. "I am a man of the world. I will not be tied down by any bloody girl."

"Come on," implored Lily, wishing Sirius would shut up. "Let's just go. If you want to be children again, this is the perfect way to do it."

"Thought you were uptight, Evans," said Sirius. "You don't think this is a waste of time?"