Outnumbered

by ArwenJaneLilyLyra

The truth was they were the greatest of all pranksters. The truth was they were Outnumbered. 5 girls, 4 Marauders. The truth is, life simply isn't as easy as Hogwarts makes it seem...

10. RipRoaringly Drunk Going Out In Style

This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.

To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)

This chapter is for the very talented author Aebbe, who made the request that 'They have a Christmas party before the end of term, and at least some characters get drunk and say/do things they probably shouldn't...'. I hope you like it! Yes, this is a very long chapter...I got a bit carried away!

Disclaimer: the James Bond franchise is the original work of Ian Fleming, The Lord of the Rings is the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and The Iliad is the work of Homer. I also did not invent the game 'I Never' - I have no idea who invented this game, but they are accountable for all manner of sins.

Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!

---

9. Rip-Roaringly Drunk and Going Out In Style

Of friendships found and inhibitions lost.

"All clear, Miss Moneypenny?"

"All clear, Mr Bond."

Moonlight streamed through the windows, but the two creeping figures kept to the shadows, bent at the waist as they sidled along the walls towards a small alcove, inside which resided a large statue of a one eyed witch. The first figure reached up his wand to rap on the stone, but was interrupted when his companion tapped his shoulder hard.

"What?" he whispered impatiently.

"Why am I the girl?" Sirius whined.

"Because like Remus said, it's James Bond. So I'm Bond."

Silence ensued as Sirius thought this over. Before James could turn back to the task at hand, once more he was interrupted by his friend.

"Then who's Miss Moneypenny?"

James paused before answering, trying to remember exactly what Remus had said when telling him about the new book he had started reading. Though he had pretended otherwise, in truth James had only really listened as far as the hero's name is James, vaguely recalling a few other names, but no idea whom the characters actually were. "I don't really know…"

James caught his friend's eye, grinning, but Sirius continued to mope.

"But why am I the girl?"

"Because you're littler than me," James teased, smirking at his friend's narrowed eyes.

"Littler is not a word."

"It is too," James snorted.

"Well I've never heard of it."

"It's not my fault you're illiterate, Padfoot."

"I am not illiterate!" Sirius insisted stubbornly, "And I'm not littler than you!"

James turned to face his friend, and Sirius scowled to see that his fellow marauder's eye line was now at least an inch higher than his own. James smiled simply, shrugging innocently and returning his attention to the one eyed witch. His argument pointless, seeing as it was clear James had literally outgrown him, Sirius remained silent as he waited for the passageway to open.

"What's the spell again?" James whispered. "It's been ages since I went down this way."

"Open Sesame," Sirius mumbled grumpily.

"Ha, ha, ha," James said in a snarky voice. "No seriously, what is it?"

"Dissendium, troll-brain. Now hurry up!"

"Alright, calm it," James cried defensively, muttering Dissendium as he tapped the statue. At once a crack opened up at the hump, and James clambered in with a small amount of wriggling. Sirius cast a glance around to make sure no-one was in the vicinity before scrambling up to follow his friend. He slotted his legs through the slender space, wiggling his hips through and then his waist until…

"James!" he cried desperately.

"What?" James' voice was muffled, but Sirius could distinctly hear a snigger.

"I'm stuck!" Sirius whimpered, his brow puckering and straining with his effort to free himself. "Laughing is not helping, Potter!" he growled at his friend's chuckling. "Help me!"

Complying eagerly, James grabbed Sirius' flailing legs and heaved, resulting in nothing but a loud screech from the trapped boy. Sirius gasped as his breath was forced out of his lungs, his eyes widening in an attempt to stifle his protesting wail.

"What in the name of Merlin, Padfoot? You're a useless lump!"

"It's not my fault if I'm buffer than you!" was all Sirius could retort with. "Not all of us are supremely tall bowtruckles, you know," he snapped. "Ow!" he grunted as James punched his leg.

"I am not a bowtruckle."

"Get over yourself Prongs, I'm stuck here! If anyone walks around the corner we're screwed! Where the hell is your damn cloak?" His friend's incoherent reply was not promising. "What was that?" Sirius asked sweetly, gritting his teeth.

"I lent it to Juliette and India-Rose."

"You lent your cloak to Swindon over me?" Sirius roared, horrified at such base treachery. "You traitor! You dishonourable," he gasped as he managed to force his body down another inch. "Disgusting," another few centimetres. "Distrustful," he let out another cry as he forced himself down until his armpits were resting on the crack. "Doxy face." He let out a loud oof when his feet hit the ground.

"You finished?" James asked.

"Yes."

"Shall we, Miss Moneypenny?"

"Not until you present me with an explanation for your utterly un-Marauderish behaviour."

"They're going down to the kitchens tonight. There's more chance of being caught down there. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to sleep at some point tonight. McGonagall was hinting at springing an end of term exam on us tomorrow."

"So what?" Sirius asked. "We can do transfiguration in our sleep. If you have perhaps forgotten…" and on the spot his form melted into that of a large shaggy dog.

"Very clever," James muttered, Sirius now following him along the passage at a brisk pace on all fours. "But given she doesn't know about that, it won't help us pass our exams. Something I intend to do, Padfoot."

"Only to impress Lilykins," Sirius said smugly once back in human form.

"Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-mih-mah-mah."

"Such maturity! It's a wonder Lily-flower hasn't fallen for you yet, Prongs."

"Ssh!" James held up a hand, his eyes widening as his gaze fell upon the trapdoor, through which they could hear a sudden rustling coming from the cellar of Honeydukes.

"Who's that?" Sirius mouthed, and James shrugged. They waited for a few moments, but eventually curiosity got the better of them and together they pushed the trapdoor up to peek through the dark.

The figures were indistinct, little more than silhouettes and shadows dancing through the dark, their intentions unclear, but they were definitely up to something. Abruptly a hissing voice shouted orders to Get out now, and the outlines of what looked like five individuals ran back up the stairs and into the main shop.

The two boys beneath the trapdoor glanced at one another; catching James' eye, Sirius nodded, and together they leapt out, scrambling desperately to silently follow the strangers.

The group, which now looked to be ten strong at least, were congregated in the middle of the street outside, cloaks wrapped tightly around their bodies against the icy winds that swept the village of Hogsmeade. Without warning, before James and Sirius could get a look at any of their faces, they all turned on the spot, vanishing and leaving behind no traces but for the sludgy footsteps in the snow.

"Death Eaters?" James asked quietly, and Sirius shrugged.

"Since when are Death Eaters sneaky? They go in with flags waving and spells shooting all over the place. There was too many of them to be spies."

Abruptly Sirius closed his mouth firmly, eyes troubled with shame at his own knowledge of the enemy. He hated the fact he had been born into that mess, born with the hope of actually being like the rest of his family. James smiled encouragingly and slung an arm over his shoulder.

"Well they've gone now. Want to have a look what they were doing?" he sounded excited. The two boys grinned and returned their attentions to the shop. The main area itself looked untouched, but they investigated each corner anyway, just to make sure. Once they were sure there was nothing suspicious about the racks of sweets – having sampled a few to make sure they were poisoned or cursed, of course – they returned to the cellar.

Their lit wands cast an eerie glow around the room, which was full of stacked boxes and crates with various labels, all with the same Honeyduke's print on the side.

"There's nothing!" Sirius whispered to James from across the room where he was busy inspecting a crate of sugar quills.

"I know!" was James' muffled reply.

"What were they doing?"

"How should I know?"

"It was a rhetorical question!"

Standing up straight, James threw Sirius a disparaging look, which soon became smirk when he heard Sirius' sulky voice mutter "See? Not illiterate..."

"Should we get going?" James asked. "It's the full moon soon, we don't want to be tired on Werewolf Watch."

"We'll be at your parents' house!" Sirius looked horrified.

"So? We did it in the summer," James pointed out in an obvious tone.

"Err, yeah, when it was summer and there was no snow to let mum and dad know what we'd been up to!" Upon seeing the wide grin on James' face, he sighed hopelessly.

"The risk's what makes it fun, my friend," was all James replied with. "You first," and he indicated the trapdoor.

Sirius made a start, walking down the dark passage slowly with his bag, which was full of sweets, preceding him at chest height under the command of his wand.

As he walked he tried to dispel the nagging concern flipping his stomach. Anywhere else, he'd have been more than happy to run around as usual on a full moon, but this was the house of the people who had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go. He owed a lot, probably his life, to the Potter family. Unlike James he was not their biological son, and he couldn't escape the sense of his own betrayal, repaying them for their kindness by putting himself, their only child, and even them in danger. And on their own soil at that.

He shook his head. Starting to turn into Moony, he told himself. A conscience? When had he developed such a thing?

"How you doing?" he asked James, but his question didn't need answering at the sight of the overlarge bag in the taller boy's arms. "Ever heard of shrinking charms? Or maybe levitation spells?" he asked, rolling his eyes as James stumbled and his bag came tumbling down onto the floor, soon followed by the imbalanced boy.

"Yes," James snapped, hot and bothered from the effort of carrying the bag which he gave a strong kick of resentment where it lay. "I just…didn't feel…didn't…"

"Forgot?" Sirius asked with a grin. "Oh, so not only is Mr Black musclier, more impressively skilled, better looking…"

"Shorter," James cut in, and Sirius scowled at him.

"But he is also a great deal cleverer than his friend! Well, isn't this an interesting turn of events? Perhaps I should have been made Head Boy."

"Like you'd have wanted it," James retorted.

"Ha! Head Boy? Responsibility? Rule abiding?" Sirius shuddered at the thought.

"E-xactly," James said, elongating the e as he raised his arms, grabbed the crack that appeared above their heads at a swish of his wand, and heaved himself up and out into the school corridor once more. "Come on then, first bag," he ordered, and Sirius passed it up, groaning under its weight.

"Told you it was a good idea to do it in stages," Sirius muttered darkly when James gasped as he dropped the bag by his side and reached down for the second one.

"Yes, yes," James said sharply.

"Can you imagine carrying these and drinks?" Sirius asked, his voice smug.

"I know, Padfoot! Now hurry up, we still have to get you out of there too, remember?" James smirked as Sirius promptly ceased his self-assured comments, instead grumbling incoherently. He cast another furtive glance around the empty corridor, hating more and more his decision to cave in to Juliette's nagging and give her his invisibility cloak. Paranoid, he imagined shapes weaving in and out of the shadows, eyes watching him and footsteps ringing through the dark.

"James?"

"Yes?" His voice was abruptly low, as if he was suddenly aware of the fact that the night was young, and prefects may very well still be wandering the corridors on duty.

"Should we tell someone about the people in Honeydukes?"

James considered this. They would probably never see the light of day again if they confessed, but if they didn't…if the cloaked figures really were Death Eaters…he couldn't bear to imagine what would happen if that was the case.

"Not now, we'll wait until morning. Alright then, up you come buggerlugs."

"Buggerlugs?" Sirius squealed. "My ears are perfectly proportioned, thank you very much! Where did you get that name from?" he asked accusingly.

Refusing to answer (much to Sirius' suspicion) James reached back down, seized his friend by the wrists, and pulled with all his might.

---

It was still dark outside when James awoke. His eyes searched the room with sweeping glances, seeking the source of the noise that had startled him awake in the dim light cast by his glowing wand. He frowned, reluctantly clambering out of bed and walking to the other side of the room. Through his window he could see nothing but the garden outside; the vast midnight sky of stars, the crescent moon's sickly glow, the hills beyond the grounds that had belonged to the Potter family for generations.

He plodded back to bed, slipping under the covers and smiling as warmth enveloped him in a comforting embrace; the strangled yelp of his name that he had been sure he had heard was already forgotten.

It didn't take long for him to drift back into blissful sleep once more, and when he did his dreams were untroubled for quite some time.

But his fitful rest was disturbed when for the second time he was woken by what he was convinced was a voice shouting his name. This time it was different. More distant, but at the same time much closer. He couldn't explain it, but it prickled the back of his neck. It had sounded like…no, of course not. He was just being paranoid.

He closed his eyes, wrapping the duvet tighter around his body, but this time sleep evaded him, no matter how he tried to return to his contented dream that he was fairly certain had included a particular redheaded beauty.

It wasn't long before he decided to accept that he simply wasn't going to sleep. Throwing on an old Wimbourne Wasps jumper that had been left in a corner he crept out of his room and down the stairs, intending to raid the cupboards in search of the rest of the apple pie his mother had made the day before.

He did not reach the kitchen, however, because he was distracted by a sudden knocking on the door, loud and firm and desperate.

James froze, eyes straining to see through the solid wood, his body tense. The knocking continued, and he gritted his teeth, suddenly regretting his decision to leave his wand in his room. Underage he might be, but he had no qualms about breaking that particular law if his house was about to be stormed by Death Eaters. His eyes flicked upstairs, wondering whether or not the knocking had woken his mother.

"James!" the figure outside bellowed, and the panicked boy let out a sigh of relief that soon transformed into a cry of bemusement. What was Sirius doing outside his house at this time of night? "Ja-ames!" Sirius repeated, his knocks becoming infrequent, his voice sing-song and cheery.

James walked to the door, precautionary efforts dismissed as he opened it to reveal a swaying Sirius Black.

"What are you-woah!" James leapt forward to catch his best friend as Sirius staggered forwards and dropped to the floor. "What are you doing here?" he asked forcefully, but Sirius merely reached up and slapped his face lightly in a friendly gesture, scrunching his nose up and mumbling fondly.

"Aww, isn't that sweet? You sound worried. About me!"

"Jamie," Jacinta Potter said softly, creeping lightly down the stairs, her frown deeply set in her kind face. "What are you doing…Sirius!" she cried, and rushed to join her son in the hallway, kneeling over the fallen boy, whose entire expression lit up at the sight of her.

"Mummy!" the sixteen year old cried from his resting place on the hallway rug, and he reached up to kiss his best friend's mother on the cheek affectionately.

Maternal instincts taking over, Jacinta rubbed the boy's cheek lovingly, unnerved by his glassy eyes and the vacant joy of his laughter.

"Mum," James murmured as Sirius continued to chat away to himself, chuckling every now and again. "Is he…I think he's drunk."

James' eyebrows shot up when his mother agreed with him, nodding with concern.

"Let's get him up, James. Come on sweetheart," she encouraged Sirius gently, pulling him up by the arm, but released him quickly as Sirius thrashed violently under her grip.

"Let me," James offered, and he reached down to heave his friend to his feet, taking the protesting hits Sirius dealt him without complaint. He ignored Sirius' furious orders to release him, zoning out altogether when Sirius started threatening to kill him with his bare hands, turning all his attention to half-supporting, half-carrying the drunken boy up stairs to the guest room closest to his own.

Sirius' energy had been all but totally spent by the time James dropped him on the bed. Jacinta followed, having quickly made a trip to the potions cabinet to retrieve a sleeping draft which she determinedly poured into Sirius' open mouth. He spluttered, coughing most of it up, but the effect was immediate, and soon Sirius' mutinous muttering faded to a heavy indistinct mumble, his eyes closing as the restful paralysis of sleep took over.

James watched, fingers tenderly pressing his right eye which had started to swell from the punch he had received at Sirius' violent protesting, and bit his lip as his mother began to inspect the bruises littering Sirius. Bruises he had failed to notice, too busy trying to restrain a violent – and much stronger– Sirius without falling backwards down the stairs.

"James, go downstairs. There's a green vial in the potions cabinet with a PMS label on it. Fetch it."

James threw her a look of combined disgust and disbelief.

"PMS?" he spluttered, and Jacinta huffed loudly.

"It's not PMS potion; I just labelled it like that so you wouldn't go near it."

"Then what is it?" James scoffed.

"It's Soothing Solution."

James narrowed his eyes, "The Hangover Cure!" he demanded, outraged at his mother's betrayal.

"Well I wasn't very well going to let you get your hands on it, was I?" She looked up at him expectantly, and James shrugged ruefully. They were interrupted, however, when Sirius whimpered in his sleep as Jacinta's fingers brushed over a dark blossom beneath his right eye. "Hurry up!" she urged her son.

With one last glance at Sirius, James raced out of the room and into the bathroom where most of the potions were kept. As he rooted frantically through the vials, bottles and tubes of various potions, his mind worked even faster, worry shaking in his hands and prickling in his eyes.

He couldn't help the guilt swelling cold and heavy in his chest. He should have known…should have realised after three days of no letters or word from the mirrors that something was going on. He should have known that his best friend was in trouble. But he hadn't thought about that. He'd simply gone on, accepting the silence and hoping everything would turn out for the best.

When he returned to the guest room the lights had been turned on to a dim glow, casting eerie shadows over Sirius' face, enhancing the bruises and darkening a bright crimson line over his cheek that had been a gaping cut only minutes before, now repaired under the expert hand of Jacinta Potter.

"Here we go," the woman said softly. She gestured for James to support Sirius while she tipped the odourless contents of the vial into his slack mouth, only a few drops, but apparently enough, because Jacinta's expression lifted back to her motherly smile, the lines in her face seeming kinder as her eyes softened. "He'll be alright," she promised, taking her son's hand and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles soothingly.

"I know," James said, his lips fumbling over the simple words. He frowned at a particularly large bruise that stained most of Sirius' jaw an ugly purple, relieved that the boy had managed to find his way to the Potter house without too much trouble. He wondered vaguely how Sirius had managed it, but he saved his curiosity and decided to wait until the sleeping boy awoke.

"Your father's on the night shift. He'll be back in the morning," Jacinta reminded James, who removed his hand from her grip and jumped up to perch on the chest of drawers, his eyes not leaving his best friend. "You should get some more sleep. He won't wake up for a while yet."

James shook his head. "No, I'll stay here." Jacinta nodded sadly. She rubbed her son's knee tenderly and walked out of the door, exhaustion weighing down her shoulders. "Thanks mum," James added before she left. She smiled, but said no more as she returned to her bed.

James stayed perfectly still, staring angrily into Sirius' restful face. His hands twitched violently in his lap, futile and desperate. There was nothing to be done but wait.

---

There was no end of term Transfiguration test after all, much to the delight of all Professor McGonagall's NEWT students. There were, however, stern words to be said to several of her students once the lesson had finished.

"Can I see all the Gryffindors before you leave, please," she said curtly, eyes not leaving the first roll of parchment that had been handed in as homework. The Gryffindors, who had happily enjoyed the majority of their hour making last minute plans for their party, exchanged looks of panic. As one they approached the desk with caution, each cowering in anticipation of the infamous McGonagall Glare. "Now, word has reached my ear of a little party you are all planning as part of your way to make sure Hogwarts doesn't forget you once you leave."

It was not a question, but each student nodded, mumbling fearful words.

"I just want you to know that as glad as I am that you're all having fun, if things get too rowdy I will be holding each and every one of you seventh years responsible, do you hear me?" she asked, eyes finally leaving the papers and staring up at their faces, which were filled with relief. She gave them a look that could have been the hint of a smile, but dismissed them before they could be sure.

In one great movement they rushed for the door, staggering out into the corridor and sharing words of excitement.

"Ahh, I thought for a moment there that we were in for hell!" Juliette hooted, swinging an arm over Lily's shoulders and grinning. Transfiguration had been their last lesson of the day, which meant it was finally time for them to make a proper start on the party that would begin in a few short hours.

"We will be if anything goes wrong," Wendy warned, a stern look on her face as she turned first to Juliette, then to James and Sirius, all three of whom smiled innocently.

"We'll keep them under control," Lily promised with a wink. "Don't you worry, Wendy."

They all continued to laugh and joke as they made their way back to their common room, too excited to notice James and Sirius lagging behind.

"Should we go to McGonagall now?" James whispered, and Sirius shrugged, looking equally lost.

"Don't know," was all Sirius could think to say. "I know, why don't we save it until tomorrow morning before we leave? That way we're going home anyway, whether we get expelled or not. Mum and dad wouldn't even notice until term starts again and we don't go back!" he looked delighted at the plan. James, on the other hand, was not so easily pleased.

"She wouldn't really expel us, would she?"

"Psshht, probably not. Just give us one endless detention until the start of NEWTs, that's all."

James glanced over his shoulder, back down the corridor to where the Deputy Headmistress was still working, at a loss as to what to do. Though little reassured by Sirius' hearty slap on the back, he grinned all the same, nodded conspiratorially. They ran to catch up with their friends, who had begun squabbling between themselves over whether to put all the drinks out first, or gradually bring out the bottles.

When the dispute was finally resolved – under the authoritative command of drink supervisors Indy and Moony – there commenced a great deal of joking, laughter, arm-linking and hugging.

James smiled almost shyly as he caught Lily's eye. She hadn't seemed to notice that in hugging everyone, she had also hugged him, because she continued to smile happily at his bemused expression before turning to join a debate between Lizzie and Juliette over what was more important: party preparations, or their own dresses.

He looked away bashfully, too quickly to notice Lily's secret smile of her own.

---

"How you doing, chuck?" Lizzie asked, wrapping an arm around Lily's shoulders as the redhead took a seat next to her, only to be thrown off. She looked ready to retort to Lily's silent treatment, to point out that she had done nothing wrong, but refrained from the look Wendy threw her. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and most of the school were taking advantage of the day to escape the confines of the castle.

The library seemed larger in the total silence, no book pages rustling or quick whispers from students brave enough to go against Madam Switt's orders.

"He was a waste of time anyway, Lils," Juliette said nonchalantly, her expression bored as she lamented sacrificing a day of freedom to mope with her friend. She knew perfectly well Lily would have been much happier distracted by shopping and butterbeer than sulking in the gloom of the castle.

Lily glared at her friend, and looking up Juliette could see the redhead's bottom lip tremble, her red eyes puffy with tears.

Juliette raised her eyebrows, her lips twisting in a 'what can you do?' expression. She knew she was right, and wasn't going to appease Lily's need to wallow in her misery. Instead, after shooting India-Rose an annoyed glance and rubbing the leg that had been kicked sharply, Juliette returned to her book.

Lily felt her lips twitch, despite feeling a little as if there would never be a reason to smile again. She knew Juliette was simply doing everything she could to keep her from falling into a pit of despair.

The only problem was that that was exactly what she wanted to do. Every time she thought about throwing her troubles away and putting on a brave front, she remembered the way he had laughed – actually laughed! – at her trying to stand up against the other Slytherins.

She had made sure to smile all the way through breakfast, surrounded by other students. But these were her best friends. She didn't have to pretend in front of them.

She knew couldn't, anyway.

"He isn't worth getting upset over," India-Rose said lightly.

Lily turned away. Severus Snape meant more to her than she could ever possibly explain. Though she was sure the girls would never understand it, he would always be worth getting upset over…

"If anything, you should be more upset about James," Juliette said with a smirk, her gaze not leaving the page of her book.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, shocked at how raspy her own voice sounded. Juliette's eyes flicked up to her briefly.

"Well, he's going out with Maeve Krissel, isn't he? You should be devastated. Now he's only going to be keeping his eyes on you half of the time…" Juliette allowed herself to smirk with pride as her words earned a smile from Lily, and even a sarcastic rolling of the eyes.

"Oh yes, I'm heartbroken," the redhead muttered with a reluctant grin. She could feel her natural smile starting to creep back into her expression, the will to inflict her bad mood on her friends dissipating quickly as she thought of James Potter being out of the way for the day.

"There we go," Juliette said, throwing her book down on the table. "Well, Operation Anti-Depressant seems to have gone pretty well, I'd say," she commented lightly. She winked at Lily, who was blushing with embarrassment. "How about doing something…oh, I don't know, fun? At least let's go into the grounds and not stay in this stuffy library," she begged, and the other girls all nodded happily.

Lily shook her head as she heard Juliette mutter a not-so-subtle "Yessss!" under her breath. Sometimes, though she would never dare say it, Lily felt very much reminded of Potter and Black when in the presence of Juliette.

The five Gryffindor girls walked along the corridor, celebrating being able to talk properly by laughing loudly, all bunched together in an unconsciously protective formation.

"We still haven't done anything to commemorate the ending of OWLs," Lizzie said in mocking despair. "We should plan a relaxation party!"

There was a general consensus among the others, and soon their heads were up the clouds as they began bouncing ideas as to how best to rejoice in their new lack of revision pressures.

Lily listened half-heartedly, nodding in an attempt to pretend she was listening. She appreciated Juliette's arm linking her own, feeling a lot more included for the gesture, despite still barely noticing what was being said. She couldn't completely shrug off the immense weight of regret hanging over her.

Every time she thought about how much freedom she now had, she could think only about how much she wished another of her friends was with her to share the relief with.

Not this new Severus, however, she reminded herself firmly. No, she had no desire to befriend him. But the old Severus…the badly dressed, timid boy she had first met before she even knew her uncanny connection to the abnormal was something more than simply being the odd one out. She wanted the Severus who had explained this world she had grown to love as much as the muggle one, the Severus who informed her she was not weird but exceptional; not a freak, but a witch.

Sometimes she felt as if she could almost forgive him for what he had said to her that day by the lake…but then she remembered the other arguments that that day had preceded, both public and private, as their friendship shattered not only before their own eyes, but before the eyes of all their own friends as well.

"What do you think…hey you, stargazer!" Lizzie punched the distant redhead on the arm, her expression excited. "What do you think?"

"Oh…errm…" she caught sight of Wendy over Lizzie's shoulder, mouthing the words 'Sounds lovely', which she then repeated aloud. Lizzie grinned at the compliment, and continued to babble about whether or not there was enough time to race down to Hogsmeade and buy some more decorations to make a banner with.

"Thank you," Lily whispered to Wendy, and Wendy shrugged, her smile casual. She was used to covering for Lily's thousand-mile-stare, the moments (of which there were many, she often teased lightly) when Lily's concentration failed her and she lost track of what on earth was going on.

It was decided that there was enough time to get to Hogsmeade, and with the excuse of being too depressed now clearly false, Lily could only agree it was a good idea to get out of the castle grounds altogether.

Their journey was cut short, however, by the sounds of yelped screaming coming from just outside the main entrance doors to the castle.

The girls exchanged looks of bewilderment, and without waiting they quickly hastened to the grounds outside to inspect the commotion.

Their eyes soon fell upon a group of boys all running around, tripping over their own feet, hands flapping about their heads. The group of Slytherins before them were being plagued by what appeared to be several hundred angry buzzing insects, each boy covered in some sort of sticky residue, and this is what was clearly attracting the bees now clinging to their skin.

Lily caught sight of Severus among the boys, and without warning she began to laugh.

It was painful, freeing laugh, louder possibly even than Juliette's howl.

She knew it was cruel, and she knew that the stings were probably quite excruciating. But still she laughed as the group of Slytherin boys continued chasing one another around, trying to remove the substance from their bodies, succeeding only in rubbing it harder into their skin.

"The bees must be charmed," India-Rose said. She too was laughing, but appeared more curious than amused, peering over at them as if hoping to get a closer look at the cause of the bees' ferocity.

"Who cares?" Juliette said, hands tightly gripping her knees as she laughed along with Lily.

Lily sighed in her amusement. She hadn't thought she would be laughing so soon after losing possibly her dearest – certainly her oldest – magical friend, but she was glad she had been wrong.

She continued down the path to Hogsmeade, the girls deciding it would be unwise to hang around a bunch of riled up Slytherin boys, her heart considerably lighter than before.

Had she looked to her left, she'd have noticed four boys watching from not too far away, each expression filled with victory. However, while three pairs of eyes followed the tracks of the Slytherins, one pair of hazel eyes followed her as she walked away, his expression much closer to compassion and relief than she could have ever expected from the boy she supposedly loathed so much.

---

The set up of the common room did not take long. The seventh years were eager to be prepared for the first of the Gryffindors to arrive back from dinner and find the common room an explosion of Christmas festivities that would rival even the Great Hall. The only non-seventh year present was a second year girl by the name of Alexandra Issett, a muggle born girl who idolised the Head Girl, was already planning her career – working with magical creatures, particularly Unicorns and Thestrals (Lily had refrained from asking further with great difficulty) – and had a talent for photography.

Alexandra had been spending her evening getting in everyone's way as she snapped quick photo shots to her heart's delight, capturing everything from Sirius mid-belch in Juliette's face, to Lily mid-rant in James' face.

Things did calmed down, however, and Lily eventually sank into an armchair, exhausted from her efforts, hoping very much that this party would be worth the effort.

"Get off your arse right now and get upstairs, Evans!" Lizzie ordered, looking scandalised.

"Why?" Lily moaned, closing her eyes as if preparing to take a nice little nap.

"Because!" Lizzie screeched, her energy endless in her excitement. "We have to get ready!" Lily glanced at Alexandra, winking, and the girl giggled as Lily continued to protest loudly.

"Fine!" Lily gave in after a few minutes, not wanting to waste her voice on arguing before the party started, when she could waste it all night singing muggle Christmas Carols at the top of her voice – something she planned to do with all her might. "Go on, Alexandra," she said with a smile. "I'll see you at the party."

She had been very strict about making sure that the girl was unaware of the alcohol, and was glad that Sirius and James had kept their promise. The deal was to save the alcohol until after the younger students were safely to bed, or at least otherwise distracted and would hopefully not notice.

She knew her attempts at being the mature, responsible one were futile, but she didn't give in. At least she would be able to say she'd done everything she could.

"Lily," Wendy stopped the redhead in her tracks. "Look at this."

Wendy held up a photo that Alexandra had taken for Lily to see.

Alexandra had been eager to show off her new magical camera, and had taken photographs in abundance. It seemed that they had developed a new model that could take pictures and lace it with potion at the same time, meaning the photos moving of the figures was instantaneous. Lily doubted Alexandra would be using it for long; the cost of the vials of concentrated potion was extortionate, but try as she might she hadn't been able to convince the girl to save her photos for another time.

"I'll be right up Liz," Lily promised and the blonde girl shouted down her reluctant consent, already half way up the stairs, eager to put on her new dress, which was deepest crimson and incredibly short. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's us!" Wendy cried, and Lily nodded.

"Yes, I can see that. So what?"

"No," Wendy sighed dramatically, looking unusually excited. "It's us, literally!"

"Yes, I know, I can see that!" Lily cried. Wendy gave a cry of frustration.

"No, look at where we are, at what we're doing…everything is just so…in character."

The photo was a wide shot of the common room, and every one of the nine seventh years were present. Wendy pointed to the little moving figure of Lily, who was busying herself with the food. "There you are, fixing things up so they're perfect."

Her finger moved over to the couch, where James and Sirius were sat, their backs propped up against one another. James appeared to be fixing some decorations by hand, but every few seconds Lily could distinctly see his eyes flick up to look at the little figure of her. "There's James, always looking at you while you look the other way." Lily blushed, and quickly moved on to the next figure pointed out to her.

"Peter…" Lily twisted her lips as she saw Peter also sorting out the food beside her. He seemed to be chatting amicably to both her and James, but she couldn't remember listening to him at all, too absorbed in her task to communicate with anyone, while James' gaze was only ever on the fancy holly leaves in his hands or the redhead behind the table.

"Sirius and Juliette…" Wendy needed to explain no further. While James sat docile and content with his handiwork, calmly keeping one eye on the task at hand and the other on Lily, Sirius' expression was full of mirth, his whole body shaking with laughter. Juliette, on the other hand, who was standing at the side of the couch, looked aggravated as she ranted and raved with an angry blush in her cheeks, pointing at Sirius every now and again in a gesture of supreme telling off.

"And there's Lizzie," her finger traced the blonde girl on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her as she painted her fingernails. Her back was pressed against Sirius' side of the couch, her head resting back to lean against Sirius' hip. Neither seemed to have noticed, and Lily pursed her lips in wonder, saying nothing.

"And Remus and India-Rose," Wendy continued, apparently unaware of Lily's intrigue about Lizzie's choice of seating.

Lily grinned properly at the pair stood further away, both deep in conversation as they pinned up some sort of banner to the wall. Their smiles were wide, India-Rose positively beaming, their attention completely captured by one another, and Lily sighed in a satisfied manner. If there was one thing she hoped would come of this night, it would be Remus and India-Rose finally ending the ridiculous pretence that they were simply good friends.

"And you," Lily said quietly, her own finger reaching up to trace over the picture of Wendy, her mop of black hair not completely covering the concentrated expression on her face as she read a paragraph of her Divination book.

"Yes. And me," Wendy said quietly, blushing at her apparent solitude. Lily wrapped her arm around her friend.

"It's perfect," she said, and Wendy grinned.

"It is, isn't it?"

---

"So this is your last year, right?"

"Yes, Joshua, my last year," Wendy said with a sigh, using her brother's full name to emphasise her lack of interest in talking. As ever, he didn't take the hint.

"What you going to do once you leave then?" he asked. Wendy pressed her lips together.

"Well, I wanted to work in Muggle Liaison," she said in a frank voice. "But with the war and everything I just don't see that happening."

"You know, for such a serious war there doesn't seem to be much mass destruction going on. It's hardly World War Three," her brother sniggered.

"Not to you," Wendy said sharply. "But there's plenty of mass destruction from where I see things."

Josh fell silent, and Wendy was glad of the peace. She was desperately trying to get her last Transfiguration essay finished. As much as she missed her brother whenever she was away, his presence was much closer to hindering than helping.

At twenty years of age Joshua Dorrington had still not found 'his place' in the world, and consequently could find nothing better to do than badger his younger sister about the inner workings of 'her world'.

"Aren't you excited?" he asked, and Wendy dropped her quill, eyes returning to his face. There was no use continuing her work until she'd satisfied him with a few answers at the very least.

"Yes, I am," she replied.

"You don't sound very excited," he said lightly. Wendy shrugged.

"You don't sound very excited about starting university this year," she pointed out, and Josh grimaced.

"Well duh, I'm going back into education. You're leaving it. There's kind of a huge difference."

Wendy considered this, licking her chapped lips and frowning at her brother a little, wondering how on earth she could be related to this boy.

"I'd rather be thrown into another few years of education than straight into the middle of a war."

"And miss all the excitement?" Josh looked alarmed. "Hell, I've never envied you until now, Pooh-Bear," he cried, refusing to apologise for using the loathed nickname of his sister's childhood. "But now? I'd give anything to fight bad guys with a bunch of sparks shooting out of a wand!"

Wendy considered explaining to Josh how very different Death Eaters were to pranksters firing sparkly showers out of sticks of wood, but decided against it. Let him dream, she told herself, better that than have him worry about your safety all the time…

"What about your friends? And hey, how come I've never met these people before?" he demanded, pointing to the picture stuck to her bedroom wall of a group of girls all standing together, clad in bright gold and crimson colours and waving a large lion-crested flag in the air. Wendy swivelled around on her computer chair so she could lean against her desk. She looked over at her neatly made bed where the young man was lying, purposefully messing up her pillows and gazing at her photos with a distant awe, amused by the way some of them moved.

"I'm not really…" Wendy began, but soon ceased to speak and returned to her work. She groaned internally when her bed creaked as Josh stood, stepped across the short space between them and knelt beside her suspiciously.

"Not really what?" he asked slowly, eyes narrowed.

"It's nothing," Wendy waved her hand to dismiss her previous statement – or lack of.

"Tell me," Josh said darkly, placing a hand on her shoulder and swinging her around with considerable force so they were face to face.

Wendy blushed. "I'm a bit of an outsider I guess."

"Why, because of us?" Josh sounded horrified at the thought of his lack of magical powers causing his sister distress.

"No!" Wendy cried abruptly. "Of course not!" She was in Gryffindor for goodness sake! "I'm just not much like the others…Lily's a muggleborn too, and she's fine. I'm just not very…outgoing, I suppose. But neither is India-Rose," she said worriedly. "It's just me. I don't fit in properly. The only thing I can do really well is divination, and the rest of them think it's a load of rubbish. But I had that dream about your accident didn't I?" she insisted, and both brother and sister winced at the memory.

Wendy hadn't been quick enough to realise the difference between dreams and visions during her fourth year, and hadn't been able to warn her brother about the car hitting his bicycle. She had cried herself to sleep in guilt for days, only allowing herself some forgiveness once he regained consciousness and they'd been sure he was going to live.

Moving on quickly, her words sped up as she rushed to confess everything before she lost her nerve. "And I'm not like the others, I'm not that brave. I've never done anything worthy or honourable or even interesting. I'm just, you know, Wendy. I'm normal. I'm friendly but boring; nice but, well, nothing special."

Josh frowned darkly at his sister's words, unsure of what to say to convince her otherwise. Instead he did something much more unexpected. He reached out and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"You're the most special person in this family, Wendy. And you'll do us proud," he promised. "You already do."

---

"Impressive," India-Rose said with a grin as she handed Remus a cup of Firewhiskey. "Barely an hour into it and already they've starting singing the words wrong." Remus smiled, cringing at Sirius' rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, but chuckling along with the girl all the same. He pointed his wand at the magical wireless, turning up the volume of Fantasia Xylena until she was loud enough to drown out Sirius' husky voice.

"Care to dance?" he offered India-Rose with a smile, the drink making him feel considerably bolder than he was sure he would have been without it.

"I'd love to," India-Rose accepted. She took his outstretched hand, smiling as they began to dance, intimate enough to talk but hopefully not so close as to attract the attention of their friends, all of whom, they knew, would be watching with keen eyes, albeit distracted by the success of their party.

"It's going well, isn't it?" Remus said after a few moments of turning on the spot, hands placed as firmly as he dared on India-Rose's waist.

"Yes," India-Rose agreed thoughtfully. She glanced around at the gold and crimson that was almost blinding to see, Christmas decorations everywhere all charmed to flash in their house colours.

They fell back into a silence that was not altogether comfortable, but not quite awkward enough to halt their shuffling feet as they swayed vacantly in the circle that had been reserved for those brave enough to partner up and dance. Remus watched as subtly as possible as India-Rose kept her eyes on either the crowd of Gryffindors or their feet, fighting the sudden – and drunken, he told himself firmly – urge to capture her lips with his own.

He almost flinched when finally she returned her gaze to him. Her dark blue eyes were wide, and her smile was tentative, trusting.

"Thanks," she said softly. Remus threw her a quizzical look.

"What for?"

"You know," she shrugged. "Talking to me…and not talking to me when I didn't want to. I really appreciate it. I know I'm not the easiest person to talk to when I'm determined to ward people away from me." Remus chuckled breathlessly, but shook his head fondly.

"No offence," he murmured. "But you aren't exactly Juliette, are you? Now she's impossible to talk to when she's not in the mood." They shared another laugh, both turning to look over at their friend. Juliette was deep in conversation with Lily, both of whom were standing behind the drinks counter. While Juliette handed bottles out freely, Lily tried to monitor how old their customers were, sometimes taking a bottle from a hand and scolding Juliette for giving a second year some Firewhiskey, who in turn looked horrified at being told off by her best friend.

"I suppose you're right," India-Rose agreed. "But that doesn't excuse the temper tantrums."

"Well, no," Remus said, his expression serious as he concentrated on still moving his feet. "But I think other things could do." India-Rose rolled her eyes, but looked closer to frustrated than outright annoyed.

"I won't let Brogan be my excuse every time I screw up." Her voice was firm, a look of closure on her face as she closed her eyes, exhaled once, and then returned her gaze to Remus' face.

"Then he won't be. I'll just automatically put all the blame on you every time," Remus said, earning a grateful laugh from the girl in his arms.

India-Rose felt a blush stain her cheeks, and she realised with some alarm that they had stopped moving. They stood perfectly still, his arms around her waist, hers over his shoulders. Her fingers clasped at the nape of his neck, strands of his sandy hair tickling her palms.

They appeared quite suddenly to be standing a lot closer than before; she noticed a small scar over his left eye that was too small to see from a distance, but she could see it perfectly now. Her smile was nervous and shy, but the knot in her chest loosened a little as she realised Remus' expression was an almost perfect mirror of her own feelings.

His gentle eyes were full of the same curious excitement that she could feel rattling in her stomach.

Unconsciously she leaned forwards…

"Shitting bastard-what the-get off-Prongs get it-get off me-SWINDON!"

Remus and India-Rose both pulled away abruptly, their faces almost close enough for their noses to brush against one another as they turned to the corner of the room, where Sirius was jumping up and down, a large banner chasing him around in an attempt to smother him and pin him to the ground.

India-Rose felt annoyance bottle inside her and threaten to overflow. If she was going to be interrupted during what could well have been the most anticipated and wonderful moment of her life, it could have at least been for a genuine murder attempt, and not a highly unoriginal and boring prank of Juliette's. She looked back over at Remus, and disappointment flooded through her as she saw him glance at her once, expression wary, and then excuse himself.

The girl raised her hands to run them through the curls Lizzie had spent so long perfecting for her, then quickly smoothed a crease out of her midnight blue dress before walking away, highly self conscious and utterly infuriated with Juliette's bad timing.

---

"That's it. Get the hell out of my house. I never want to see you again, you hear me boy? Never!"

Then give her to me and l won't come back. I promise. Just give me Indy and I'll leave!"

A young India-Rose sat on a chair at the kitchen table, watching with tear-filled eyes as her father and brother bellowed at one another in the hallway. She could see Brogan's bag by the doorway, and her body trembled at the thought of her big brother leaving her alone with her father.

"You're sister stays here," Cillian Norrellreplied coldly. Brogan's pale face flushed with anger.

"For what? You don't want her. What are you going to do when she goes to Hogwarts? You can't stop her magic, dad. She's going to be a witch, there's nothing you can do about it. You can't escape the magical world by throwing me out! Why would you keep her?"

"She didn't kill her mother, did she?"

In the silence four year old India-Rose began to cry, too confused to understand what was going on, but certain that whatever happened, it wouldn't be good.

Brogan glanced over at his little sister, back to his father, and then walked to the kitchen. He scooped the child into his arms and returned to the hallway, glaring at the man before him. In the safety of her brother's embrace the girl stopped crying, her puffy eyes scrunched up as she was tring to work out why her father was so angry.

"You see?" Brogan said, and there were tears of his own in his eyes as he clung to the girl. "She's happy with me. She'll be happier with me than anyone else. Especially you."

"Don't you tell me I don't deserve my daughter, Brogan Norrell!" Cillian roared, and India-Rose trembled as he took a step forwards, finger raised to point defiantly at his son.

"You don't love her! You don't want anything to do with magic."

"I'd rather keep her with me than with a murderer."

Brogan's eyes found the dark green bottle in his father's hand, the last dregs of beer swilling in the bottom.

"It was an accident," he murmured, sounding less like the man he tried so hard to be, more like the seventeen year old boy he really was. "I was angry and…it's hard sometimes, dad."

He didn't particularly expect a reply, but it still hurt when his father remained coldly accusing.

"I loved mum…I didn't want to…" But he could think of nothing to say, no justification that absolved him of his mother's death. He hadn't the words to bridge the rift between himself and his father that had cracked wide open at her demise.

"What happened to justice? Your mother told me about prisons that you have," Cillian said darkly, and Brogan nodded.

"I was fifteen!" Brogan bellow, but he quietened when his sister whimpered into his neck. "Professor Dumbledore stopped me from being expelled. You know that. He told you. He explained…" His voice tailed to nothing, ashamed, alone.

"But you're leaving now anyway?"

"Yes," Brogan choked, not quite able to imagine what life was going to be like without the beloved castle he had grown to love as a refuge for the past year, only coming home to see India-Rose. "I can't stay there."

As safe as he'd felt there, he couldn't take the stares and the whispers that followed him.

…there he goes, the boy who blew up his mum's car…

He shut out the haunting voices that still followed him even in his head. He was suddenly aware of a pair on small arms around his neck, and he returned India-Rose's hug with vigour.

He couldn't take her with him. He couldn't let her life's chances be tainted by this blood on his hands.

Prising her hands from his clothes, he reached over to hand her to their father.

As the child was passed between them the two men shared a look of pained distrust.

"Look after her," Brogan murmured, determined not to cry. He kissed her head lightly, ignoring her young cries as they grew louder and louder. He blocked out the way his name rang in his ears, his little sister crying for him to stay with her.

"I love you Indy. I'll see you around. Just not here," he mumbled at the door.

Without another word Brogan Norrell left without any intentions of ever coming back.

---

"Okay, okay, okay!" Sirius stood, bottle of Firewhiskey clasped in his hand, and called for quiet among the group that had congregated in the corner of the room.

As the night wore on groups had begun to form, sectioning off to have mini parties of their own. A drunken Lizzie had reluctantly parted ways with her boyfriend to join the other seventh years and now they all sat in a circle, each holding a full bottle of some dark amber liquid.

Sirius waved his free hand to urge his friends to be quiet, and their conversations dulled as they all looked up at his swaying figure. Grabbing onto James' head for support Sirius began in a loud, authoritative voice.

"Now then, seeing as we're all gathered together, I think it's time we play a game."

"I love games!" Lily squawked, clapping her hands delightedly. Finally accepting that being the responsible one was going to bring her no true happiness, Lily had been going back to the now unmanned counter all night, determined to enjoy the night to the full.

The effects of her change of heart glowed in her red cheeks and bright eyes; her smile was wide and uninhibited.

"It's called I Never," Sirius announced proudly, and James let out a Whoop! of glee, as did Juliette and Peter. Remus and Wendy, however, groaned, while the other three girls – Lily, India-Rose and Lizzie – simply looked clueless.

"Oh come on," Peter cried. "You have to have played it before!"

"You've never heard of-hic I Never?" Juliette hiccupped, looking outraged at this scandal. The three girls shook their heads fearfully.

"I'll explain!" Sirius bellowed when Juliette launched into an animated explanation. "We each take it in turns to say I never… and then complete the sentence. If you have you take a drink, if not, you don't. So if I say 'I have never kissed a Slytherin', which is the truth, because otherwise I would have cut my lips off in disgust, I don't take a drink. If you have never kissed a Slytherin, you also don't drink. If you have, you drink. Understand?"

There was a hum of agreement and Sirius beamed, plonking himself back down between James and Remus.

"I'll go first," Sirius cut in before Juliette could start. "I've never…" his eyes flicked to James for the briefest of moments and grin spread across his face. "Been nicknamed Buggerlugs as a kid."

Though the others all looked confused and shook their heads in turn, Juliette burst out laughing, and along with Sirius howled with laughter as James took a reluctant sip.

"I had to grow into my ears, okay? They weren't that big," he growled.

"That big?" Juliette asked between fits of giggles. "You were like Dimbo!"

"Dumbo, Jules," Wendy corrected her friend. She smiled apologetically at James, who was scowling at Juliette's betrayal.

"My turn," James said firmly, pausing to think for a moment. "I've never…replaced shampoo with whipped cream as a prank, and then accidentally used it myself because I had forgotten what I'd done."

He smiled innocently as Juliette took a quick drink, glowering at Sirius as he launched a full scale attack of taunting jibes. Before Juliette could retort Wendy cut in, as she was next after James.

"I've never insinuated that I was either going out with someone, or very ill, just to avoid spending time with my friends because I was in a bad mood."

Her expression was uncharacteristically smug as first Sirius…then Remus, Lily, India-Rose and Lizzie all began to drink ruefully, looking a little embarrassed. Wendy smiled at her victory, and looked to Lily to go next. Lily paused for a moment, considering what to say.

"I've never…been to a Quidditch match outside Hogwarts," she said simply, and there was a collective 'Booooooo!' from her friends.

"Boring!" Sirius shouted as he took a long drink of his Firewhiskey – to make up for all the professional Quidditch matches he'd seen, he justified to himself.

"I've never been in a detention that was actually my fault, and not simply getting dragged into something by my friends," Peter said loudly, and Sirius growled playfully as he drank along with everyone but India-Rose and Wendy who, like Peter, tended to only ever get in trouble thanks to their fellow Gryffindors.

"Hmm, bit better," James remarked, nodding in Peter's direction with an accepting grin.

"Alright then," India-Rose cut in, trying desperately to think of something interesting. She wanted to say something witty, perhaps follow Sirius and James' examples and reveal some embarrassing truth about one of her friends, but instead she said something very different, something she had had no intentions of saying at all. "I've never… celebrated a family Christmas." It was the truth. Christmas had never been much of a family affair in the Norrell household, even before Imogen Norrell's death.

Slowly they all drank, all except Lizzie, and a quiet understanding fell between the two girls. India-Rose would have felt guilty for bringing the group's atmosphere down from the high they had all been riding on, but that reassuring look of me too that she received from the blonde was worth it.

"I've never had my parents wave me off from Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

India-Rose caught Juliette's eye as the girl by her side spoke up, and there was a softening of compassion in her eyes. India-Rose smiled sadly, and together they watched as the rest of the group took a drink.

"Well this is putting a downer on things, isn't it?" Sirius mumbled, and there was a hum of agreement, yet no-one seemed particularly interested in lightening the mood. As the buzz of Firewhiskey took hold, they found greater interest in darker, deeper secrets. The secrets that simply couldn't be shared without Firewhiskey.

"I've never told my parents that I love them." Lizzie didn't look at all remorseful at this abrupt truth, and didn't blush under the shocked expressions of her friends as they drank, even Sirius, she noticed with wonder. If there was one person she had expected to be like her, it would have been him. She shrugged. So what if they weren't the lovey, tight-knit family that Lily, or James, or Wendy was used to?

She didn't mind, she told herself brusquely.

Her thoughts were shattered by a quiet voice.

"I've never been subject to the Cruciatus Curse."

It was an unexpected one from Remus, who was staring directly at Sirius. As much as he could lie to Remus with words, the truth would be revealed in a single sip, and to Sirius Black there was no greater foul than cheating at games.

Sirius raised the bottle to his lips, eyes narrowed, but he wasn't angry. He caught Juliette's eye, finding her watching him from over the rim of the bottle as she too took a hasty drink. Sirius slipped the usual grin back onto his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Hurt like a bitch," he said with a grin. A nervous chuckle rippled through the group, unsure whether or not they could get away with laughing at his attempt to lighten the mood.

Sirius could see James at his side, not looking at him, but very much there. He turned away from Remus' watchful, knowing eyes.

He wasn't used to this, to truths. Truth was vulnerability, and Sirius Black didn't do either of those.

---

Sirius groaned as he rolled from his position on his back to lie on his side, wincing as he pressed his ribs tenderly. Nothing broken, he huffed to himself.

The dark surrounding him was impenetrable, and he shivered.

The cellar.

Shakily he stood, fearful of the pressing darkness that engulfed him, peering through the emptiness in search of something, anything, of comfort.

"Hello?" he asked, trying to remember how he'd gotten here.

He remembered a fight. He could remember trying to leave, throwing curses figurative and perhaps literal ones, too, at his father. He remembered punching Regulus. Sirius grimaced at the last memory, the most painful by far. He looked down at his fist, which he could barely see in the lack of light, remembering how it had crashed against his little brother's jaw. He shuddered, crouching back on the ground.

"Hello?" he asked again in spite of himself, his hands trembling as the dark seemed to invade his mind. He returned to his upright position and began walking, arms stretched outwards, searching for the wall. When he finally reached it he groped along the blank stretch of brick until he came to the ladder. He fumbled at the steps, and then began to clamber up, very conscious of the fact that if someone opened the trapdoor, they'd throw him back to the ground again with considerable force.

When finally he reached the solid oak patch he scratched his fingers over the surface, desperately trying to find the handle, but his hands found only wood. The handle had disappeared.

"Let me out!" he screamed as loudly as he could, slamming his fists against the door. "Let me out right now!"

"Quiet, Sirius," a voice drawled. It appeared his father was directly above him, no doubt on a chair placed on top of the door, Sirius sneered at the likely possibility. "And don't order me about. I'll let you out when you either shut up or learn your lesson. Preferably both."

"You can't keep me in here forever you know!" Sirius bellowed.

"Oh yes I can, boy," Orion Black said in a bored voice. "You're my son, and by legal rights you don't even inherit until you're twenty one. I don't have to do anything at all."

Sirius froze, his breaths sharp and painful in his chest.

"Now, are you going to stay down there like a good little boy, or am I going to have to teach you another lesson?" Orion asked, and Sirius scrambled back down the ladder to the floor. The sudden memory of that curse hitting him was abruptlyl raw and fresh in his mind. He could still feel it burning into his bones. "Or maybe I'll wait until Bella comes over for a chat," Orion mused.

He sounded quite delighted with this idea.

"No!" Sirius growled. The last thing he needed now was to be humiliated, not only by his parents, but by his cousin as well.

"Then you stay where you are."

"Are you planning on feeding me, may I ask?" Sirius asked in a mockingly polite voice, even adding a sickly sweet smile, despite knowing his father couldn't see it.

"That depends," was all the reply he received.

Sirius didn't speak again.

He sat on the floor, arms folded, determined to prove to his father that he could take any punishment thrown at him. He figured he could survive…what, three days without anything? He nodded to himself. Yes, he could manage that. Regulus would manage to sneak him food by then at least. His younger brother was loyal to his parents, but Regulus wouldn't let his big brother starve.

Still, even as idle hours began to pass by Sirius' mouth grew dry and he began to pant, licking his lips every now and then to moisten them. He glanced around the pitch black room, wondering if, by any chance, there was something he could drink.

Wearily he stood, muscles aching from being locked in one position for so long, and began to search the cellar, finding only cobwebs and empty boxes, old portraits and tarnished silverware, until finally he found several large barrels. After some work, he managed to pull off the first lid, and the powerful smell of ale met his nostrils. He grinned. Well, if he couldn't have water…

What started as quenching his thirst turned to something more.

He was stuck down here for who knew how long? He may as well enjoy himself, he reasoned with a lazy grin, drinking out of a goblet that he had found among the boxes of 'less worthy' items that had been left in the cellar due to their imperfect nature.

This was the House of Black, after all, only the very best goblin made silverware would do.

He continued to drink, his fears dispelling themselves as he drank and drank and drank, his happiness naturally of far greater importance than his health.

It wasn't long before he lost track of time, and he didn't even notice as it became harder and harder to scoop the drink out of the barrel without falling into it.

At first he was too high in his spirits to hear his name being called, and he continued to hum merrily to himself under his breath, waving his arms in the air to conduct an imaginary orchestra.

"Sirius!" the voice hissed again, and Sirius stopped mid-hum, eyes turning in the direction he thought the trapdoor was.

"Yes, this is Voldemort's Receptionist, how can I help you?" He cackled at his own wit, falling back to lie down as he giggled to himself.

"Get up here, Sirius!"

The sixteen year old stopped chuckling as he heard someone fiddling with the trapdoor, and a moment later light from a single wand flooded into the cellar. Sirius swivelled his head sideways to see Regulus looking terrified and holding two wands: his own and Sirius'. He beckoned to his older brother, telling him to hurry.

"If you go now, you can escape before mum and dad get back. They've gone out."

"At this time?" Sirius asked bemusedly, his eyes shining with delight at the word escape.

"Yeah, don't ask. It's Bella and Rodolphus. Now hurry up!" he sounded aggravated, but also relieved as Sirius began staggering towards the ladder, grinning lazily and humming under his breath.

"Up you come, sweetie," a woman's voice said. Sirius nearly fell back down he ladder, but was grabbed in time by his cousin Andromeda, who smiled kindly.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked, feeling a little like he was meeting a ghost. It had been so long since 'Dromeda had been to the house…

"Well it's not like I've been invited to visit Bellatrix and Rodolphus' celebrations, is it? I've decided to be the good cousin I once promised I would be to you, Sirius." She helped Regulus heave the drunken boy out of the cellar and into the hallway. Regulus handed Sirius back his wand.

Sirius patted his brother's shoulder affectionately. Regulus almost felt glad of Sirius' intoxicated state. He probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, and he was pretty sure that if Sirius was sober, he would probably have been doing something very different to patting him in a brotherly fashion.

"You coming too, Reg?" Sirius asked.

"No, I'm staying," Regulus snapped impatiently. "You know what to do?" he asked Andromeda, who waved an airy hand, dismissing her little cousin's worries.

"Apparate him to outside Potter Mansion, hope he finds his way to the front door by himself, don't be seen by anyone, don't tell anyone…yadda-yadda-yadda." She almost yawned at how easy the task was, and didn't take kindly to the lecturing tone of her much younger cousin's voice. "Come on, you useless lump."

She pulled Sirius along to the front door and the boy didn't protest, instead waving happily to Regulus, who winced at the bruises on his brother's face, now illuminated by the dim streetlight outside that streamed in through the open door.

"Bye!" Sirius shouted to the house, and his laughter was cut off as Andromeda Tonks apparated away from Grimmauld Place, leaving Regulus alone in the doorway, resolution in his expression and regret in his heart.

---

It was close to three o'clock in the morning and still Gryffindor common room showed no signs of emptying. While most of the younger years had made their way upstairs – encouraged by a few of the more responsible older students, mainly one Lily Evans and Wendy Dorrington – those of fifth year and above showed no desire to leave the party, which had returned to the traditional central dance space, with chairs all pushed to the side where a few people watched the dancers. Some fourth years remained, but they were few and far between.

In the centre of the dancers Lizzie could see two particularly drunken figures swirling around the room, endangering all those around them as they did what looked like a hand jive, contrasting quite oddly with the slow, romantic crooning of Fantasia Xylena coming from the wireless.

She couldn't wait to tell everyone how Lily Evans had danced with James Potter. And so ridiculously, at that!

She caught Christian's eye and waved shyly. He nodded to her with a flirty smile and continued to talk to his friends, his eyes flitting back to her every now and again.

"Who you waving to?"

She didn't register the scowl on Sirius' face as he asked her, and answered him with a wide smile.

"Oh, just Christian."

"Just Christian?" Sirius asked, eyebrows raising in distaste. He placed his hand behind Lizzie's elbow and pushed her forwards. "Come on, let's dance."

Lizzie allowed herself to be pulled into the middle of the room, smiling happily as she began to dance with Sirius, whose drunken energy had started to drain as his drinks became slowly less frequent in number. They turned on the spot at a moderate pace, Sirius' hands resting behind the blonde's neck, while her hands rested comfortably above his hips.

"Why are you going out with Christian?" he asked her after a few minutes. The next song started playing, much livelier than the last, but still they turned slowly on the spot.

"Because he's nice," Lizzie replied, her pale green eyes returning to her boyfriend.

"Nice?" Sirius didn't sound convinced.

"Yes, Sirius, nice," Lizzie said shortly. "I know there's very little chance we're going to fall madly in love and get married and have children and grow old together," she said hotly. "But to be honest, I'm pretty alright with that at the moment. I don't need to find my soul mate at school, and I don't think I'm going to. I may as well enjoy myself for now."

Sirius stuttered for moment, trying to retort with something clever and witty, but fell surprisingly silent.

"Thank you," Lizzie said once he closed his mouth, and she leant over to rest her head on his shoulder, lethargy starting to creep into her limbs.

She could see out of the corner of her eye that Lily and James had stopped dancing, and were now partaking in an animated conversation, complete with wide eyed expressions and rapid hand gestures. She smiled. No, she didn't need to find love at school, but there, she knew, sat two people who clearly had, or at least would very soon.

She wondered vaguely whether the redhead would still feel the same in the morning, and chuckled under her breath at the thought.

"Tired, Lizzie?" Adrian Dunhouse, Christian's best friend, called over to her. There was a collective chuckle from the group of boys all clustered around Christian.

"Too much bed and not enough sleep," another snickered loudly and Lizzie frowned, standing upright. She could feel Sirius' hands clasping a little too tightly around her neck.

"Yeah, but with her string of bedmates it's no wonder!" A third boy jeered, and the laughs grew louder.

Lizzie's mouth opened in horror and she turned to Christian, surprised he hadn't backed her up yet. "Christian?" she stuttered, but the boy shrugged.

"Not my problem if you've made a reputation for yourself, Liz-Biz," he said in a slurred voice, as if ending his statement with her affectionate nickname to soften the blow. He moved to take another swig of his drink, but the bottle never reached his lips.

"You bastard!" Sirius yelled, and before Lizzie could grab him he'd leapt over to the sixth year, his fist finding Christian's face once, twice-

The boy was on the floor in seconds, and Sirius continued his attack, repeating similar expressions of disgust as loudly as he could.

"Sirius!" Lizzie yelled, but he didn't stop until she grabbed his arm. He stood over Christian, and Lizzie took his place. Refusing to shed a single tear, Lizzie lifted her foot and slammed it straight into the sixth year's groin. Christian doubled over in pain, groaning. "In case that isn't clear enough for you, we're finished."

Sirius looked around the common room, half of which were still oblivious to their encounter, while the others remained silent and wary, all regarding him with apprehension. He spotted James on the sofa, dazed expression confused, as if he was trying to work out whether or not he was needed, and what he was supposed to do.

"Come on Lizzie," Sirius said, wrapping a protective arm around the girl, who was shaking with embarrassment. "I think we were dancing, weren't we?"

"Yes," Lizzie replied with a glassy eyed smile. "We were."

"Then let's carry on, but first!" he pointed to the counter, where sat one last crate of Firewhiskey. "A drink. I think we both need one."

---

Lizzie strolled aimlessly down the corridors of Hogwarts, very much intent upon getting lost. Six years of being educated in the castle made this difficult, of course, but she was determined to try nonetheless.

She had decided after some deliberation that the place most likely to have her well and truly mislaid was the dungeons, given her lack of experience in the darker areas of the castle. Of course, this was also the place most likely to end in disaster, but she considered it worth the risk.

She was perfectly at ease in the shadows of the dungeons, and by a stroke of luck was yet to meet a single Slytherin prowling in the gloom.

"Elizabeth!"

She turned at the voice, pulled from her thoughtless reverie.

"Lizzie!"

She narrowed her eyes, unable to see anything other than stone bricks, statues, and tapestries. She pursed her lips and continued on her slow meander.

"Elizabeth Joan Harding, get your arse back over here now!"

"What do you want?" she snapped to the empty corridor behind her.

"Help!" the voice replied. She took a step closer to a statue of a wizard holding a large serpent.

"Black?" she asked bemusedly, and there was what sounded like a reluctant yes from the muffled voice. She treaded lightly towards the statue, but it was only once she was barely a metre away that she could see the vague figure of Sirius Black, hanging suspended behind the statue, his expression mutinous. "What on earth are you doing there?"

"Thought it would be fun. You know, a little Marauder clubhouse," he snapped.

"Where's your wand?" she asked condescendingly as she began pulling at the ropes holding his hands down. "Sirius, these aren't even magical ropes!" she snickered, ignoring his scowls.

"Up there," he flicked his eyes up to the ceiling where, like himself, his wand was hanging in midair.

"And you couldn't just accio it?" she asked, sounding unimpressed.

"Apologies for my lack of wandless magic skills!" he grumbled, rubbing his newly freed wrists.

"Why were you even here in the first place?" Lizzie asked as she summoned the boy's wand and handed it back to him. With nowhere else in particular to go the pair slid down the wall until they were sitting almost side by side.

"Well I was planning on talking to my brother," Sirius admitted grudgingly. "But Griffiths and Marsden had other ideas."

"And you were separated from your conjoined twin in the first place because…" she asked pointedly.

"James and I are not conjoined twins!"

"And yet you know who I'm talking about," Lizzie said simply.

"He's visiting his dad in St Mungo's," Sirius replied glumly, cupping his chin with his palms.

"So the cowardly Slytherins decided to take advantage of James not being around?"

"You know, I really hate being a Gryffindor sometimes," was all Sirius could say to her. He scowled cryptically at the ground, Lizzie smiled delicately, knowingly.

"Because you keep relying on James to back you up?"

"I guess…"

Sirius shuffled his feet uncomfortably, disliking the blonde girl's intense stare.

"Before I came to Hogwarts I did perfectly well on my own!" he finally exploded, his voice ringing down the corridor, and he waved his arms frantically.

"And now you're the all round team player!" Lizzie cheered with mock enthusiasm.

"Yup," the boy said, popping the 'p' in a dark voice. "That guy has lulled me into a false sense of security."

"And you think that if you were a Slytherin you would be more independent?"

"Well the rest of my family are, even Andromeda! And she's not exactly the same as the rest of them, is she?" he looked over to see Lizzie still smiling. "What?"

"I just don't think you can blame everything on the all-round Gryffindor-Potter influence," she said in a falsely stern voice. "I think you are who you are."

"Really?" Sirius scoffed.

"Hell yeah. I mean, of course if you'd been in Slytherin you'd be a totally different person compared to who you are because you're in Gryffindor…but Gryffindor hasn't made you like this. It just…encourages a certain side of you. Even if you were in Slytherin, yes you'd probably be less of a Gryffindor, but you'd still be a little bit Gryffindor. Just like you're still a little but Slytherin."

Lizzie rolled her eyes at the indistinct muttering that constituted as all the reply she was going to get.

"I was nearly in Slytherin," she said after a moment.

"You what?"

"Oh yeah, the Sorting Hat said I had a little Slytherin side to me that would do very well."

"What stopped it from putting you there then?" he asked, curiosity sparked at this revelation.

"I was too 'ruled by my emotions', apparently," she muttered bitterly.

"And you're disappointed?"

"Oh…no…I wouldn't…I love being a Gryffindor!" Lizzie insisted, shaking her head at Sirius' raised eyebrows. "It's just interesting. Sometimes I wonder, you know, how things would have been different, say, if we'd both been in Slytherin."

"We'd probably have been the King and Queen of Slytherin," Sirius said with a wink.

"Literally?"

"Probably. Who else would there have been?"

"Oh, so it's just lack of better options, is it?" Lizzie snapped defensively, and she shifted as if considering getting up.

"No," Sirius said loudly, grabbing her forearm. She stared at his hand clasped around her for a moment, then looked up into his insistent face.

"Then what?"

"Oh, you know. I mean, it's not like I wouldn't go for you now, you idiot," he winked, but there was a flicker of something more behind his stormy eyes.

Lizzie bit her lip, blushing. "Really?"

"Come on," Sirius said with an embarrassed snort of laughter. "I had the hugest crush on you ever last year…and the year before…and the year before…"

"And it's taken you until sixth year to tell me this?"

"I would never, under any circumstances," Sirius said firmly. "Go out with you."

"Why?" Lizzie demanded, her eyes wide with hurt, but her expression softened as she saw the boy's cheeks grow pink.

"I don't date date, Lizzie. And I wouldn't do that to you."

Sirius didn't like the girl's perceptive smile.

"Well for future reference, even if you asked I wouldn't say yes anyway."

"Well that's good, because I wouldn't ask."

"Good."

"Good."

The laugh they shared was almost genuine, and they leaned a little closer into one another's warmth.

"When does James get back?"

"Tonight. His dad's getting let out at the end of the week but he wanted to see him before that."

"His dad's ok?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine."

The silence between them was stiff, uncompromising.

"Common room?" Lizzie asked, standing and reaching down to help the boy up.

Sirius eyed her warily for a moment, then took her hand and allowed her to pull him up. He swayed as his knees wobbled, leaning into her, and for the briefest of moments he could see the cluster of beauty spots usually hidden beneath the shadowing eyelashes of her left eye.

"Let's go," he said firmly.

They walked together, side by side. Understanding content and unspoken.

---

"James," Lily said in a matter of fact voice that did not quite fit with her dazed expression. She was stretched across the couch, her head resting on James Potter's lap, and seemed totally oblivious to the drunken hum of the room around them. "When you asked me to marry you-"

"Which time?" James asked with a giggle, and Lily slapped his leg playfully.

"Earlier tonight, silly!"

"You mean when you finally accepted?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah…when you asked me, were you being serious about ten children?"

She looked concerned, her brow puckering slightly as she fiddled with the empty bottle in her hands.

"No, that was just a joke," James reassured her with a firm pat on the head.

"Good," Lily sighed in relief. "Because I can only think of eight names that I like." At this both boy and girl began to laugh raucously, hastily making 'sshhh' noises at one another to quieten themselves.

"What names do you like then?" James asked after a few moments.

Lily smiled brightly.

"I like Delilah for a girl."

"Delilah?" James spluttered. "What is it with your family and flower names?" he asked in a perplexed voice.

"That's dahlia, stupid!" Lily clouted James around the head, rolling her eyes at the boy's ignorance.

"Well I don't like it," James insisted stubbornly.

"Fine. How about Georgina?" Lily offered, and was again rejected by James, who pulled a disgusted face that earned himself another slap. "My neighbour's called Georgina! Okay, Clarice?"

James paused, considering the name.

"No."

"Harriet?"

"Yes!" James cried, punching the air in exultation. "I like it. What about boy names?"

"Jason."

"Really?" James asked, eyebrows raised disparagingly.

"I'll accept nothing else."

"Okay then," James patted Lily's head again, this time much more lightly. "Jason it is."

A comfortable silence followed between the two, James smiling happily at Juliette who was repeatedly – and using up a great deal of effort and concentration as she did so – shifting the mistletoe from one side of the room to other, causing it to chase Remus and India-Rose around in circles, while Lily hummed under her breath.

"And I want two cats."

"Two cats? What about dogs?" James demanded.

"No, I want cats!" Lily pouted, letting the bottle slip from her grasp and fall to the floor while she folded her arms obstinately.

"Called Quincetti and Donahue?" James asked brightly.

"Why on earth would my cats be called Quonaetty and Dollarhue?" Lily sounded horrified.

"Quincetti and Donahue! You know, only the best chasers England have ever had!"

"I am not naming my cats after Quidditch players."

Her tone was final, and James' expression dropped.

"What do you want to call them then?"

"Achilles and Hektor," Lily said proudly.

"What?!"

"Achilles and Hektor," Lily repeated simply. "You know, the Ancient Greek heroes? My dad's two favourite books are The Lord of the Rings and The Iliad. I know. Weird." James nodded as if he understood what the redhead was talking about, not wanting to appear foolish in front of his future wife. "He used to have a grey horse called Shadowfax as well."

"That's nice," James replied.

"So we can have cats?" Lily asked, and James, unable to deny the excited face before him, nodded.

"Of course we can have cats. We'll even get a horse as well if you like."

"No," Lily shook her head. "I don't like horses."

"But you just said-"

"My dad likes horses! Keep up!"

James grinned, fighting to keep his eyes open as the urge to sleep grew and grew. He could see Lily looked exhausted, unable to keep her head up for too long to look around the room.

"I'm tired," she yawned, rubbing her eyes lazily.

"Me too."

"Bedtime?" Lily asked, rolling over and tumbling off the couch. She stood, only to stagger sideways and be caught by an equally disorientated James. They collapsed back onto the floor in a fit of giggles.

"Juliette!" James shouted across the room, "Sleep-time!"

"Okay!" Juliette shouted back, and began saying a long and dramatic farewell to a figure that looked a lot like Sirius, who was curled up in a corner beside a long-legged blonde girl, her head resting on his shoulder as she slept.

James took Lily's arm to steady her and together they traipsed towards the stairs that led to the boy's dormitories.

It took a long time to clamber laboriously up the stairs, and by the time they reached the seventh year dorm James was ready to collapse on the floor and never get up again. He glanced at his watch. It was possibly as late as five o'clock, but everything was starting to get too blurry to be sure.

"Night-night!" he called to the room, and knew no more as he staggered towards his bed, hoping his aim was good enough that he'd land on the mattress, not a thought for Lily's hand, which was still firmly in his grip .