October. Crunch, crunch, crunch; the sound of feet on leaves. Reds and oranges and browns. Autumn. Remus, Peter and the girls, inside, hiding among the warm fire and dusty books of the common room, working. James, Sirius and Lily, outside, walking, sharing jokes and pushing each other into piles of leaves. They're seventeen: young, free, full of love and optimism and hope. They can ignore the threat of war – darkness and fear are things for another day, when they grow up.
"I like autumn," says James, and Sirius knows from a conversation that took place back in fifth year that this is because Lily's hair is an "autumn colour". James doesn't remember this though, as two years is an awfully long time to forget things in, and instead says something about summer being too hot, winter too cold, and spring too wet.
"I like autumn too," Lily agrees, but Sirius didn't know this before. "It's a nice temperature, and it's pretty."
Sirius nods, because autumn's his favourite season, too. "We go back to Hogwarts in autumn," he adds. Not that returning to Hogwarts is such a big deal for him these days – since moving in with James, he's loved his summers – but at eleven, twelve, thirteen, Hogwarts meant escape, friendship, brilliance.
James's smile slips off his face. He looks strange when he's serious: there's something oddly adult about him, and there's nothing nearly so wrong as a grown-up Marauder.
"We won't be back here next year," he says, almost a whisper, quiet enough that it could be mistaken for the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.
Lily and Sirius lose their cheery grins at that, too. "I haven't a clue what I'll be doing," Lily admits, and an expression of nervousness – fear? - crosses her face for the first time. White teeth bite down on light pink lips, almond-shaped green eyes look desperately up at the boys. Sirius, understanding, pulls her into a hug. She smells like biscuits, comforting and warm, and he grins over her shoulder at James.
"You'll be with us," James decides, taking her hand in a sudden fit of Gryffindor courage. She looks down at it, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards slightly.
Sirius nods, his grin back, takes her other hand. "You're stuck with us now, Evans," he says, and glances at James. Lily watches them, fascinated, wondering how it's possible to communicate using just looks, but is lifted into the air before she can work it out. She shrieks. The boys laugh, swinging her into the air by her hands, letting her fall to the ground, lifting her up again.
"You're not getting rid of me either," she agrees, between giggles, "though I do want my hands back." She wrestles her hands from the pair of them, doesn't see James's face fall slightly at the loss of contact – it's brief, fleeting, barely there, but Sirius sees it. Sirius sees everything. He always has. Lily's still stood, laughing, unaware of the change of mood. Sirius sighs, and makes a decision.
"Look," he says, and they do. James frowns slightly – he barely even noticed his face change himself, has no idea what Sirius is going to say – but stays quiet. "You'll never do anything if you carry on like this. You're useless, the pair of you," he continues, and James suddenly realises what his friend is doing, can feel his face heating up, turning pink; Lily wonders if it's what she thinks, wonders if Sirius is more observant than he lets on. Sirius sighs again, seeing that neither of them is about to say anything. "You bloody fancy each other! Now please, just snog or something before I die of anticipation!"
Lily's face is suddenly red, only it's a brighter, more pinkish shade of red than her hair; a shade that suggests the warmth of summer rather than falling autumn leaves. James, too, rather resembles a tomato. Neither speaks. Sirius hides his face in his hands, wondering exactly when his best friend and the clever, confident Head Girl became so undeniably stupid.
He waits a moment before looking up again. He's glad he does, because finally, finally, after two years of hearing James talk about her; after all the weeks of watching Lily become suddenly, unexpectedly awkward around him, they're kissing. And Sirius lets a smile slowly spread on his face, and Lily and James break apart, still red-faced, grinning.
They look away from each other. Remus and Peter are hurrying towards them, having finally finished their work, and maybe it's their giddy happiness, maybe it's an overwhelming need to include the other two, but somehow, without ever consciously deciding to, the group of three is running to the others, and then the others are running too, and five bodies collide in an embrace that somehow expresses their hopefulness, their thankfulness for each other, and the assurance that each of them is needed, trusted, wanted, loved.