Hiyas, well here's chapter 6, hope you enjoy! If the name Adam pops up at any point that's actually Will, it's just Adam is my real ship with Marlene (but using him would be outright plagerism to TLAT and I feel guilty), so ignore it or send me a message so I can change it, thankyou!

The weeks after Will's declaration mimicked his new mood: bright and fresh, sunny. When Will smiled it seemed that the world smiled, and the students and teachers alike played along – barely any detentions were given, fighting ceased in the corridors, even the Death Eaters went on temporary hiatus.

Marlene tried her hardest.

She woke up in the mornings and wore flattering clothes, she didn't diet, she laughed at all the right jokes and smiled all the time. She waited until everyone else was asleep to cry.

It wasn't Will's fault – she knew that. She knew that she still loved him, and he loved her and that was part of what was going on. He wanted the world she lived in to be a better place, and she did for him, too. But for some reason she couldn't stop crying.

That morning, as she carefully selected her shirt, she knew that day was going to go badly. Firstly, and most importantly, no one would be asleep early tonight. Secondly, she was going to have to be cheerful the whole day long.

She hated James Potter's birthday.

"Marlene?" A voice called sweetly, raising her from her reverie.

"I'm coming, Lily," Marlene replied, hanging her smile from her lips and turning with a flourish. "How do I look?"

"Mate, trust me, I'm not throwing a party!" Sirius giggled to James, "This is much cooler than that!" He glanced up from the slab of silver and glass that he was talking into, checking the corridor – if it could be called that – shimmering with gold light from the torches.

"It better be," James teased back, his disjointed voice echoing off the crumbling walls, "given how shit your present was!"

Sirius looked back to his best friend's face, "Oi!"

Reaching the sloping incline that lead up to the exit, he rejigged the package under his arm in an attempt to locate a folded slip of paper somewhere in one of his pockets.

"Dammit," he grunted, nearly dropping the bundle and, as he straightened up from catching it, tripping slightly over a tree root sticking from the rough dirt floor.

James was laughing at him, "Fuck off." He slipped the mirror into his jeans' pocket. Teach the arrogant bugger a lesson.

He might have heard James swearing at him as the screen went blank, but he doubted it because James was much more the type to laugh things off, especially on his birthday.

Sirius reached the door quickly after that: focusing on the uneven paving and groping his way along when the light ran out rather than reach for his wand – he knew the tunnel well, after all.

When his fingers hit the solid stone that signalled the end of the passage, Sirius tucked his booty under his arm tighter and pulled out his wand and the map.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he whispered, tapping where he assumed the centre must be in the pitch dark. "Lumos," he muttered a second later, putting his gleaming wand between his teeth and holding the parchment close to his teeth to check that the coast was clear.

Filch was near the dungeons, McGonagall was in her office and Snape was by the forest. Skulking, no doubt; he tended to do that.

In fact, the pathway he intended to take was entirely free of all human life forms, and Sirius was not particularly upset by the track his favourite house elf happened to be taking, as more often than not she carried food on her. Just because dinner was only an hour ago didn't mean Sirius couldn't be hungry; he was a growing boy.

Sirius glided along the corridors that only he and James knew silently, smiling a little at the thought of how easy life had become. Really, he wouldn't say no to being caught in the act every now and –

"What are you doing, Black?" Lily Evans' voice traipsed over him from behind.

Sirius froze – hand halfway to his still glowing wand and quelling the urge to jinx her for startling him.

"Evans, oh sweet one, what can you mean?" He trilled in return, twisting around to flash her his famous grin.

She did not fall at his feet, simper, blush or giggle. She did not behave like a girl. She did not look impressed.

Sirius was impressed.

"What's with the parcel?" She asked instead, crossing her arms maddeningly.

Sirius took a moment to observe his adversary. Here was one girl he had never really cracked – unlike most, she didn't fancy him; unlike most, she didn't hide that she was clever; unlike most, she didn't try to be beautiful. She had a sense of humour, but also a moral code; she didn't care what people thought of her; she stuck by her friends. Lily Evans was a bit of a mystery: to be honest, if James hadn't been so head over heels in love with her Sirius might have fancied her.

But now she was just an annoying hindrance.

"Marijuana." He told her, straight up.

She didn't blink, "Liar."

Sirius cracked a smile, "But does the fact that it's fire whiskey bother you less now?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Really, Black. Has that ever worked on anyone?"

Sirius thought back quickly – or at least pretended to, because really he already knew what he would reply – "No, they're generally just bowled over by my stunning good looks." He said seriously.

She quirked a near invisible eyebrow, "Does that ever work on anyone?"

"You tell me," Sirius fired back, genuinely irritated now. "Look, Evans, are you going to take it or are you going to get out of my way?" He snapped, tossing his hair out of his eyes moodily and, though he would never admit it, pouting slightly. He did that sometimes.

He knew from the expression on her face that she had clocked the involuntary movement of his lower lip, and also that she was in now way going to let him pass free. Merlin's-sake, he'd seen less strict faces on Professor McGonagall

"It's Potter's birthday today, isn't it?" She asked though, surprising him.

He blinked at her long and slow to hide his confusion - an effect that was somehow ruined by the sudden blurting of, "What?"

Lily marched past him – he followed her movement with a twisting of his head but made no other actions after her.

At the end of the corridor she looked back, "It's Potter's birthday, and if I stop you you'll just go back and get more. So, just don't give any to anyone in younger years, okay?"

What?

Like, what?

Sirius stood still for another minute afterwards, trying to process that Lily Evans – Lily freaking Evans! – was actually condoning the use of alcohol by underage students. Well, maybe condoning was the wrong word (more like not protesting) and she may have specifically said not to underage wizards (Sirius still found it hilarious that James was the youngest Gryffindor 6th year – he himself had been an adult legally for months!) but she knew as well as anyone that if you gave a Marauder and inch they took a mile. Shit, she'd virtually asked him to spike the punch!

Excellent.

The rest of the brief trip passed without even – and really, Sirius didn't think he could take much more drama! – and when he finally pushed open the common room door he saw that the lighting was already dimmed, music was already blasting from the corner and several couples were already making out on the makeshift dance floor.

"Booze is up!" A shout came from the back – a shout that sounded suspiciously like Hayley – and it and Sirius were greeted by a cheer and – on Sirius' part – a sudden envelopment of the crowd, hands tugging for his merchandise.

"Somebody take the birthday boy a drink!" Sirius called, ducking his way out of the havoc and laughing slightly.

James was before him, hand on one hip and hair carelessly messy, "You're throwing a party!"

Sirius stuck a blow horn in his mouth – conveniently located at a nearby table – "Surprise!" He tooted.

James rolled his eyes, slinging one arm over his best mates shoulder and ruffling his hair, "You. Are. A. Wanker!"

Sirius chuckled, "Lubs you too mate."

Glancing at him snidely, "Alright, wouldn't go that far!" And, accepting a firewhiskey from an eager looking fifth year he released Sirius' shoulder and backed away. "Places to go, people to do," he winked at the girl, who blushed scarlet and tried to stutter something.

Silly girl – she was obviously not his type.

But, really, Mary was looking fine tonight.

Hayley saw James step away from Sirius and back away from a girl who quite clearly had her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she followed an oblivious James across the room.

"James, darling!" She called, stepping into his path and throwing her arms around his neck.

If she gave the bimbo a death glare over his shoulder it was probably accidental.

Hayley took in a deep breath of James, "Happy Birthday!"

His arms folded around her, "Cheers, H-bear!"

And they stepped apart.

What had she expected, anyway?

"So, what did you get?" Hayley voluntarily put some distance between them, just so that her heart could have the chance to calm itself.

James blew out his cheeks in the typical James gesture for 'Merlin'. Hayley laughed at him.

"Well," he began, grinning and rubbing his jaw with the hand he didn't hold alcohol in, "For starters Sirius got me a new school tie."

They laughed together.

They sounded good together, did that count for something?

"Well, you must have made up for that with Daddy-dearest?" Hayley teased, slightly nervous because the subject of parents was often sore around the Marauders.

This time, luckily, James just laughed, "Oh, the usual couple of thousand galleons, best new broomstick, season ticket to England games."

"Skimping it a bit this year, isn't he?" Hayley rolled her eyes, "Honestly, J-bear, I'm tempted to marry you for your money!"

He laughed – as she had hoped he would – and passed her his drink, "Here you go instead." And he walked away, joking with Kelt as he passed and heading for the food. Typical James.

Typical Hayley, hurting.

She knocked back a glug of fire-whiskey, wincing as it burnt the back of her throat and tearing her eyes from his retreating path.

"Mary!" Hayley jumped slightly, her hand flying to her heart at the sight of her tall brunette friend stood barely half a metre from her with a strange expression on her face.

"You like him," Mary accused, frowning intently.

Hayley felt the primary jolt of fear just below her navel, "What are you talking about, Mare?"

But the other girl kept her brown eyes still on Hayley's own, and she was forced to swallow lest her fear forced words from her mouth that she would regret later.

Mary smiled sadly, "You've been letting me talk about him all month."

And there was the bottom line: Hayley had let Mary talk on and on about her latest crush – the handsome, the talented, the gorgeous, rich and funny James Potter. Didn't he just have it all? Wasn't he just sooo good looking? Didn't he just make everyone else want to lick that hard earned sweat from his abs? No? Just Mary, then.

But it had been just Mary...and Hayley.

And Hayley had liked hearing someone say nice things about James. For too long had she sat through Lily Damn-Her Evans' rants about how stupid, how immature he was just because the idiot ginger couldn't see how good she had it with James' attention. So yeah, it was good to hear that Hayley wasn't completely by herself in the pro-James Potter corner.

And she had always known that Mary just had a Knight-In-Shining-Armour thing going on. She would get over it. And so would Hayley. Or James; whichever came first.

Fuck the world.

Lily ducked out into the corridor to seek the cooler, less sweaty air. She was smiling a little – despite her irritation that Black had failed to do as promised.

The party was good. Well, the music was slightly too loud and the punch slightly too suspicious for Lily's personal taste, but so far there'd been no fighting, no drugs and no throwing up. Really, she didn't know how the Marauders managed it: every time they threw a party – and it happened less often than most people might think – they managed to hit the nail on the head; no body too drunk and everyone enjoying themselves.

She had to take her hat off to them – it was impressive.

Lily swiped her hair away from her eyes, pulling a bobble from her wrist and winding it around the silky strands she raised from her neck in a high ponytail. She knew it wouldn't suit her, but she did it anyway because there was no one she was trying to impress and she was all alone anyway.

But just to check, she glanced to both sides.

"Marlene?" She took a double take.

Marlene McKinnon was a pretty girl – slightly above voluptuous and lacking any real interest in her appearance, but she could get away with it because she had good cheekbones, a sweet smile and volumes of billowing white-gold locks. She wasn't the kind of girl that stuck with you after a mere glance; more the kind of girl who after a few years of being friends you suddenly realised that, oh yeah, she really was gorgeous and you wouldn't mind a piece of that!

Now, with her legs drawn up to her chest and a guilty expression hanging off her face, Lily couldn't help but smirk at her best friend.

"What are you doing out here?" Lily walked over, flicking her hair down her back and smiling down at the blonde who usually stood taller than her.

Marlene shrugged, "Air?"

Lily felt a twinge of something quite like upset squeeze her stomach, and she swallowed hard against the urge to recognise it as such. Alcohol did funny things to people's systems, after all.

"Same," she replied instead, pressing her back to the wall and sinking down until she sat beside her friend with her legs sticking out before her.

They sat in comfortable quiet until Lily's rosy cheeks became their customary pale – courtesy of being a ginger.

"Do you like the party?" She asked Marlene.

"Will certainly seems to," Marlene looked down at her fingers entwined together, a soft frown puckering her forehead.

Lily heard the concern in her voice, "Oh?"

Marlene didn't reply, and again Lily was forced to waylay an unjustified emotive response.

Tilting her head against Marlene's shoulder she fluttered her eyelashes up at her.

Marlene grinned, "Oh, Lily, if I were a boy I totally would fancy you right now." Lily's eyebrows shot up, she laughed and nudged Marlene's teasing shoulder with her own.

"Well, that's what I like to hear!" A new voice joined their conversation, smirk evident in his tone even before he dropped down beside Lily and threw an arm around her shoulder.

"You smell of firewhiskey, Black," Lily wrinkled her nose and shoved him off, leaning further into her blonde haven.

"Don't mind me, do continue," Sirius waved them forward eagerly, his teeth bared in a crude grin.

Huffing, Marlene got to her feet, "I'll see you around Lily," and she headed for the common room door.

Watching her go, Lily pulled a face at Sirius, "Good one, Black."

He pulled an innocent expression, "What could you mean?"

Lily, rolling her eyes as yet again he deposited his arm around her, held up one hand, "First you smuggled alcohol into the castle," she ticked off one finger, "then you threw a party on a school night, then you corrupted minors, and now you've upset Marlene!"

Sirius locked eyes with her, "That still gives me one finger to go..." he pointed out.

Lily smirked, "Wow Black, you can count and everything."

"I'm a talented bloke." He returned cheerfully.

"That's one way of putting it." A snide voice cut in, "Through lies."

Starting, Lily and Sirius looked up into the glowering face of Severus Snape.

"I could take points from Gryffindor, you know Black. For hosting a party. Or perhaps a nice detention?" He scowled at Sirius darkly, eyes fixed in a way that Lily recognised as his disgusted face.

Sirius leapt to his feet nimbly, not noticing as he knocked Lily to the side roughly, "Snape I swear on Merlin that this time -" he drew his wand threateningly, or started to at least – Snape's wand cut into his throat before it was all the way out.

A muscle jumped in Sirius' jaw, and the two, dark haired dark eyes teens glared at one another.

Sirius looked at Snape and felt nothing but hatred for the boy; the stupid, idiotic, bastard boy who had hurt James and who thought that he was better than everyone else. He made Sirius' skin crawl, his breath come out in harsh, rugged gasps of distrust. Sirius would bet that the coward would stick the knife in Lily's back himself.

"Okay, that's enough." Lily herself spoke, and when Sirius' eyes went to her he was surprised by how calm she was.

"You have no business here, Snape." She turned her attention to the Slytherin dryly. "If you want to take points you are at perfect liberty to, but Black hasn't done any harm so there's not really much point. Otherwise, could you leave, please?" She spoke to him politely, courteously even; as to a stranger.

Snape blanched, and his wand fell an inch, "Lily..."

But she held up a porcelain hand, "That's enough."

Sirius watched as he waited. He saw the indecision on the Slytherin's face, and he saw so much more. He saw how much pain the boy was in – he saw how much Lily's indifference damaged him and, maybe because he spent so much time around James, he understood why.

Snape dropped the wand, "Have it your way, Evans."

And he sent Lily one last, longing look – and to Sirius a filthy one – before skulking into the shadows, disappearing round the corner.

Lily turned away from Sirius.

He didn't know what to say. She had stood up for him, against Snape. Sirius knew that they weren't friends anymore, but Sirius couldn't ever imagine...couldn't ever have imagined a situation like this. Maybe it was just her strong moral code? Maybe she honestly felt nothing for Snape anymore – she had sounded so distant...like it was any other prefect duty.

"Nice timing there," he joked awkwardly to her turned back.

His words – too loud and frivolous – echoed back between them, a wedge between the fragile acquaintance they'd aimed towards, as condemning as any hex. The faded light twinkled at him, mocking him for his lack of tact and unimportance.

Lily turned to face him, eyes dry, "You're welcome." But she sounded as no young woman should sound – like that one boy, that brief stop, had left her with the weight of a thousand on her poor, tired heart; like she just wanted it to stop.

"He's not worth it, Evans." Sirius meant it. He was actually a little angry with her – for thinking that the bastard meant something; for picking him over James; for breaking James' heart, always.

She looked at her feet, hair scraped back from her face and revealing that she was not likely to answer. Her green eyes were shielded. Sirius turned to leave.

"Why?" She called him back, when his hand hit the common room entrance hole, left slightly ajar so that the fat lady could get some rest with everyone coming in and out.

Sirius turned to look at her, a silhouette against the torchlight; small and incredibly fragile, "What?"

"Why isn't he worth it?" She wanted to know, taking a hopeful step towards him.

Sirius stared at her incredulously, "Evans, what has he ever done for you? When has he ever stood up for you?" She did not answer, so he continued ruthlessly, "He's going to be a Death Eater, you can't deny it. And guess what Death Eater's do? They kill muggle-borns, Evans. They murder people like you: for existing! That's what he's going to be out doing in a few years – killing people for being born; and if it came down to it, do you really think he'd stand up for you then? When it's him and five Death Eaters and they're telling him to kill you? Because history says no, Lily."

She had no reply for that, and he was more than angry, because Regulus' face was swimming in his mind and he was terrified, because he, too, was on the other side from someone he loved. What would he do?

He swung the portrait hole open, greeting the roaring party with no enthusiasm except from getting away from her and this conversation.

He picked up a fire-whiskey, knocking back several quick gulps that brought tears to his eyes which he wiped away roughly. And if Remus sent him concerned looks from his sober corner then it was none of his business.

"Melanie Fisher!" He turned to the blonde immediately to his right, "You are looking fine tonight. Really, it's the only reason I'm letting you, being a Ravenclaw, stay. How about I bring you a drink?" She blushed, giggled, and nodded; it appeased Sirius that some things never changed.

Speaking of, he looked quickly around, where was James?

But it was fine, because he was talking to Rich and Lucy in the corner – probably that Quidditch story about the time his dad bought him tickets for the Argentina/South Africa game. They were laughing appropriate amounts, at least.

He turned his attention back to the alcohol, reminding himself about Melanie Fisher and her particularly good set of legs.

Lily was next to the drinks table.

But it was fine, because Melanie had a particularly good set of legs, and he could distract himself enough to forget their conversation for a little while, and James would never have to know. And, as a silver lining, maybe he'd got through to her.

She looked moody enough.

He swiped a couple of bottles – (didn't Peter have a thing for the girl next to Melanie? Katie something? Rebecca something? Cute, in a girl-next-door kind of way, if you were into that...) – and left without talking to her.

"Melanie darling," he winked at her, "here you are." He passed her a bottle. "And here you are," he passed her shorter friend a bottle, too, and pointed her in Peter's direction. He'd thank Sirius in the morning.

"So," Melanie asked, slipping a straw she'd conjured into her mouth in a way that was obviously calculated to be provocative, "how's your evening been?"

Great. Sirius had thrown a success of a party, had a great time with his friends, got far too drunk on a school night, broken about twenty school rules and a few legit laws, and he was about to pull.

Oh, and he'd had a shit conversation with Lily Evans.

"You know what, Melanie," he began apologetically, "I'll be right back." And he dropped a peck onto her cheek, vanishing through the crowd before she could protest.

"And then the Argentinean seeker – Cristobal Eglisha? Heard of him? – jumps from his broom onto Selami's back and starts screaming at him in Spanish!" James recounted through his tears of laughter, gripping onto Rich's shoulder – which was violently shaking itself. Lucy doubled over, clutching her stomach and gasping for him to stop.

"But he can't understand!" James howled, and the three of them fell apart and rushed back together in hysterics so intense that when Will Selwyn rushed past looking for Marlene he was unable to answer.

Eventually, with the music throbbing around the trio and the room getting ever more crowded, James regained his breath enough to continue with the tale.

"Ladies and Gentlemen and Hufflepuffs!" A voice, entirely recognisable even if it did slur with alcohol's influence, cut across him, magically magnified but not by much. Smiles still on, James and Lucy turned to look at Sirius, who had clambered onto the back of the sofa despite the obvious damage he had caused to several nearby books.

From one hand drooped a near-empty bottle of firewhiskey, and the other he gestured around the room with, enveloping the onlookers with amusement with the endearing, sloppy, intoxicated movement.

"Today is, as we are all aware, my best mate and Gryffindor's resident nut-job, James Potter's birthday!" A drunken cheer greeted his enthusiastic words and he quietened them down dramatically. "And, because he's a twat but we love him anyway. Like, he might be totally shit at getting anything right – apart from Quidditch – but his heart's in the right place." (Sirius pulled a face that raised laughter from the crowd, but James saw his eyes dart to someone in the shadow and knew that he meant the message sincerely.) " So I think we should all make a toast to James Potter, and wish him a Happy New Year as a grown up!"

Someone – it was Hayley, James would bet on it – called something along the lines of, "Yeah, right." but they were overshadowed by everyone else rocking to their feet and weaving their bottles, glasses, bare hands into the air.

"Happy New Year!" Sirius called, from his position over them all.

"Happy New Year!" And the room filled with the sound of clinking, cheering, and gentle pats on James' backs as each person tried to wish him their own personal message.

"Happy New Year," Sirius muttered again, and fell of the chair.

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