Thursday
September 10, 1977
Great Hall
I'm really nervous for today, only really because I have Muggle Studies first thing and I feel kind of nervous about being with just Remus, especially considering the events of the party. But, well, he seemed perfectly fine yesterday, so I'm probably just overthinking things.
I also have potions, and that means amortentia with Black, something that I don't think I could ever be ready for.
Unfortunately, I'm going to have to be.
Anyway, I'm eating breakfast with Dorcas; Black, again, is nowhere to be seen, which is weird. Not that I care, again, but... well... his presence is disturbing, and his lack of presence is somewhat more disturbing, as who knows where he could be! He could be torturing some innocent firsties for all I know!
Oh look! Lily and Lottie have come down for breakfast - I didn't realize it was that late in the morning. Oh, wait, Dorcas isn't here anymore. When did that happen?
"Morning Eva," says Lily, sitting down beside me, "you're here late."
"Yeah," Lottie agrees, piling her plate with eggs, "aren't you normally loitering around the library at this time of the morning?"
"Well I thought instead I would wait and eat breakfast with my bestest friends in the whole world!"
Lily raises an eyebrow. "Bestest friends, sure, but you've already eaten breakfast," She points at my waffle-less maple-syruppy plate.
"Oh well, I'm not complaining," Lottie interjects, "I feel like we've barely seen any of you, what with your detentions, and you spending half your time in the library, not to mention your stint in the hospital wing. And besides," Lottie says, looking at Lily with a grin, "You've missed all of the gossip!"
Lily goes almost as red as her hair.
There's gossip that she didn't tell me about? Merlin's barbaric right eyebrow, I'VE BEEN MISSING OUT! It's that pesky little Black runt. I'll hex him the next time I see him.
Anyway.
Gossip.
Lottie leans in really close, looking all conspiratorial, and whispers, "The other night, at the party, when you left early because of the whole Marley thing, I need to talk to you about that, by the way, like, what exactly-"
"Lottie," I interrupted, "continue with the story."
"Right," She glances at Lily again who has her arms crossed and is leaning blank-faced away from us. "So our dearest Lily, as you know, went off to dance with Potter..."
I'D FORGOTTEN ABOUT THAT! MERLIN'S BLOODY EYEBALLS WHERE ARE MY PRIORITIES AT?
"...and she didn't injure him. Not once. She didn't even hex him, or punch him, or verbally abuse him. She just... danced with him... and then left. Just like that."
Lily scowls and stands up, one hand on her hip and the other moving her wand to form a particularly dangerous spell. One she hopefully doesn't say out loud, or we might all, you know, die. "I'd drunk too much firewhisky, that's all. Just... just stop talking about this, alright? It's not a big deal, and you keep distracting me by talking about it Lottie, I mean, I've already forgotten to put my perfume on so i'm going to smell terrible by lunchtime. And don't you have eggs to eat, Lottie? And you, Eva, things to worry about?"
She makes a compelling argument.
I've got that transfiguration essay after all. And Black is probably going to kill me at some stage. And Remus may be in love with Dorcas the Betrayer who I am still friends with because she might injure me. And there's that thing with Hol- wait. No. Eva. Stay on track.
Lily hates Potter, so what's gotten into her?
Maybe the Slytherins have been putting things into everyone's drinks, that's why everyone's acting so whacky lately.
Who knows? Certainly not me.
Merlin, is that the time?
Hello, Muggle Studies!
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Muggle Studies
Remus is looking particularly fine today, if I do say so myself.
Picture a window, a great big window that is beaming light into a specific spot in an otherwise dimly lit classroom. Picture an incredibly good-looking tousle-haired boy staring dramatically into the distance, the sun hitting his face, lighting up his whole body and making his eyes sparkle.
You've sort of got the gist of it.
Anyway, Remus is good-looking, as usual, and is quite possibly too good looking for me to handle on this day of surprises. Merlin, I really should sit down; Horus Harris is looking at me funny.
I swear I'm mostly sometimes not a stalker!
Ahh, that's not really very comforting is it.
Horus Harris will never know.
Anyway.
"Hey Eva," Remus smiles as I sit down. "How're you on this fine sunny morning?"
"Quite excellent, now that I'm here hanging with my favourite Marauder."
Was that a bit too much? A bit too friendly? Surely not! He needs to forget Dorcas the Betrayer (DTB) and think of me!
Remus raises an eyebrow. "Favourite Marauder? Are you quite certain?"
"Positively," I reply.
I don't know what on earth he means by that, I mean, who is else was he expecting? Peter?
He's obviously my favourite. Obviously. I mean, I don't ever really talk to Peter, and well, Black or Potter? Hah! What a joke!
Anyway.
"So what's going on in Remus world?" I ask, naturally. A good wife always looks after her husband's needs before her own. Unless her husband is a spider. Then one would look after her own needs first, because one would be a female spider, and one would eat her husband. But that's beside the point.
"Uh, it's okay at the moment. Sirius is acting weirder than usual, but James is acting more normally, which kind of balances it out. Full moon sometime next week, which is, uh," He looks around awkwardly, "irrelevant, and I don't have that much homework for History of Magic, which is good."
Remus' face suddenly brightens, "Oh, and I uh," he blushes, "there's this girl, which, well, I like her, and she seems to like me, which, um... is exciting. But that's probably too much information than what you were going for."
MERLIN'S BLOODY BOLLOCKS!
Is... is this a dream? Is Remus finally, admitting, well, more hinting at, his feelings for me? Oh boy, have I got the collywobbles.
I probably would have fallen out of my seat if Bunt hadn't walked past and tapped loudly on my desk with a ruler, asking if I knew the difference between a microwave and an oven - I do; it's easier to explode things in the microwave - and then forcing silent working until the end of the lesson.
Great.
More time to think about my impending death (hint: potions).
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Corridor Somewhere in the Dungeons
A Comprehensive List of Why One Might Find Oneself in a Dungeon Corridor instead of a Potions Classroom. Compiled by Evelyn K. O. Bishop
1. One quite likes the atmosphere of the dungeons - the gloomy light, the musty smell, the damp, the most-likely poisonous fungus growing on the walls. It's probably really good for the complexion.
2. In comparison, one is afraid of the dungeons and is there to try and conquer one's fear.
3. One is heading to the Slytherin Common Room, obviously, as one so commonly does.
4. One has come down with a terrible disease that will most likely kill oneself if one were to enter a Potions classroom.
5. One is lost.
6. One is on a very secretive and dangerous mission on behalf of the auror department.
7. One is avoiding the Hufflepuff gossip mill (they tend to congregate in sunny areas).
8. One is avoiding making a love potion with one's worst enemy in an effort to prove that together they can make a love potion better than one's best friend and best friend's hopefully-worst-enemy in order to win points for one's house because one does not want to run the risk of being near a love potion in close proximity to one's worst enemy and likewise, one does not want to make a love potion with one's worst enemy against one's best friend and one's best friend's hopefully-worst-enemy because one knows one's best friend and one's best friend's hopefully-worst-enemy will win and one does not want to risk the oncoming wrath of one's worst enemy in the imminent event of one and one's worst enemy not winning the love potion making challenge.
Thursday,
September 10, 1977
Potions Classroom
Sadly, I was found in the dungeon corridor by one rather angry-looking head girl and dragged to this classroom, raucous laughter coming from the direction of one's other supposedly best friend all the while.
Maybe I shall send Selene to write a letter to the Minister for Magic about the shocking disrespect today's head girls are showing to the hard-working students of Hogwarts.
What a kerfuffle. Lily Elaine Evans, Class A Git.
Anyway, I was dragged to my desk, which caused several eyebrows to raise, and was met with the face of the cat who got the bloody cream.
I must admit, Black's bodily disgustingness does improve minimally when he smiles, but that kind of doesn't matter, ever. So anyway, moving on.
"Why, Evelyn, just the person I wanted to see on this fine morning!" Grins Black, pulling out the chair next to him to Lily can shove me down on it. "I had almost thought you weren't going to turn up!"
Well he's not wrong.
"Finally," says Slughorn with a very McGonagall-esque look, "You're all here. Remember, the group who makes the best potion by the end of the lesson will receive thirty points each for their houses, so try your hardest! You may begin."
Black immediately, much to everyone's surprise, jumps out of his chair and leaps to the storeroom cupboard, narrowly beating Potter to the supplies, and hurries back to our table, his eyes wide, yelling, "Bloody hurry up will you, Bishop, we have points to win!"
You know what, Black? I don't think hurrying will make the potion better, in fact, if we hurry, we might make a mistake, so there!
"I've got the rose thorns, peppermint and moonstone, Bishop. Here's the ashwinder eggs, here," he points to the marked spot on the textbook, "crush them like it says. You better do it well, Bishop," and he races off again to get the dandelion root and the horklump juice.
Well who is he and what has he done with the Sirius Black we all know and hate?
Very well, I'd better follow instructions.
I'd better put my diary down or Black might rip it to shreds in his haste to get me working.
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Potions Classroom
We're in that waiting period now - I've just added the sopophorus bean, which was a struggle in itself, let me tell you! I remember clearly, sixth year, draught of living death, Lily telling me, "No, Eva, you don't bloody cut it, yes, I know it bloody says to bloody cut it, no stop, STOP! You crush it, like so! What are you? Oh, okay, wait, BLOODY STOP! Wait, keep going, okay, good. Like that."
So I know full well from that traumatizing experience that one should crush it and not cut it, but I couldn't seem to get it through Black's thick head. I ended up distracting him and crushing it anyway, to which he seemed likely to throttle me, but after the potion turned the exact shade of light blue it was supposed to he kind of begrudgingly nodded and sat down, looking like a petulant little wart of a child.
Anyway, so now we're up to that stage where we need to stir it three times counterclockwise and five times clockwise every thirty seconds specifically, and it's Black's turn to do that now, so I'm writing in here, obviously.
I must say, despite my somewhat 'bleak' outlook on the outcome of today's lesson, it's actually not going so terribly. Our potion's going fine, great, actually, and I've only been injured once (I'm allergic to wormwood), so that's better than I'd hoped.
Oh, bloody Merlin. Lily's potion is just that more 'white satin' blue than my 'windmill wings' blue. Which, is to be expected, after all. Oh well. At least we'll get 60 points to Gryffindor either way!
Oh bollocks, it's my turn to stir.
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Potions Classroom
I honestly don't know what on earth has gotten into Black. I mean, he's not destroying anything, and he's quite avidly concentrating on our potion, I mean, he's hardly let me do anything! Slughorn's currently looking at our potion with a look of surprise, I mean, I am too! (Not that I'm bad at potions, I'm just average, but Black isn't known for being a particularly proficient potioneer).
Lily's potion is looking even better than ours, which is disappointing, but not unexpected, so I guess I can't really be that upset about it. Potter's looking smugly over in Black's direction, and Lily's rolling her eyes at me and giving me a thumbs up at my potion, raising an eyebrow at Black.
We've got about ten minutes of the lesson left, and precisely three wand movements before our potion is completed.
And it's done.
It looks quite excellent if I do say so myself. It's got that whole mother-of-pearl sheen, and the steam is rising from it in tightly coiled little spirals.
It smells so bloody good, like those little flowers that grow by the black lake in the spring, and the smell of the fire in the big common room fireplace, and something sugary, like toffee, or caramel.
I could just smell this forever.
I'm sadly distracted from my almost entrancement by Slughorn banging his ruler loudly on his desk and saying, quite forcefully I might add, "And your time is up! Let's see how you've all done."
Naturally, I expect Black to be lounging back on his chair, grinning at the potion with that horrible smile of his, but he's sitting up, straight backed and staring at the potion with an odd look on his face. Like, well I can't explain it. Like he's confused?
All of a sudden he glances sharply at me, and widens his eyes as if in realization of something drastic. He's probably realized Lily's potion is going to be much better than ours. The steam on ours is coiling too tightly to be perfect.
I look behind me and realize that I'm right. Her's and Potter's potion has steam rising in loose coils, like it's supposed to.
So close, but yet so far.
Speaking of Lily and Potter, they're acting rather strangely. Potter's narrowed his eyes and is saying something about Lily's perfume being too strong, which is odd, because I specifically remember Lily mentioning she forgot to put it on today, and Lily's just staring at the desk in what looks to be a a trance of mixed horror and shock, pinching her nose between her fingers.
What on earth is going on? Everyone's acting so bloody weird today.
I make eye contact with Lottie, whose potion seems to be gurgling, and judging by the look on her face, is the source of that rotten egg smell that is faintly lingering under the overpowering scent of amortentia. Lottie looks with a raised eyebrow and a grin over at Lily and Potter, and I honestly don't know how to reply. What on earth is going on?
Slughorn has now finished his 'oohing' and 'aahing' over Snape and Juliet De Vere's Draught of Living Death and has finally made his way over to Black's and my desk. Upon seeing our potion Slughorn's face contorts into what can only be described as the quite possibly unrepeatable 'golly-goodness-Merlin-the-Great-and-Most-Powerful-will-never-be-able-to-create-crystallized-pineapple-lumps-more-incredible-than-this-moment-in-time-that-I-here-am-witnessing-today-where-Sirius-Orion-Black-has-shown-great-talent-in-something-other-than-tomfoolery-and-misdemeanor-and-I-can-die-a-happy-man' look.
If he hadn't caught a look at Lily's potion, the steam gently rising in those loosely coiled puffs of iridescent sparkliness, I swear he might have given us the 60 points on the spot (because who cares about Snape's perfect potion when Sirius Black has actually accomplished something).
Sadly, Slughorn did, and exclaimed with great vigour, "Well, well, what have we here? Mr Black and Mr Potter both creating almost, if not perfect amortentia? I can only guess that Mr Potter's luck came from the assistance of the lovely Miss Evans, although I'm not entirely sure how you managed to pull it off, Mr Black."
We all look slightly offended, bar Lily, who's grinning like the bloody Cheshire Cat.
"Class, I must insist you all come over here to look at Mr Potter and Miss Evans' amortentia! It is simply the best I have ever seen! And once you've completed that task, make sure to bottle up at least two vials each of your potion for marking."
Well at least I'll get a good grade.
"The sixty points go to the head boy and girl, for Gryffindor!"
Wednesday
September 10, 1977
Great Hall
It's lunch now, and I'm avoiding Black, who is obviously very mad at me for not being able to beat Lily, which is completely understandable.
And by obviously mad, I mean, I think he's mad. After Slughorn left, he and Potter had this really intense eye conversation which ended with them both slowly turning around and sitting very quietly in their seats.
I can only imagine this is because Black needs quiet time in order to plot my imminent death, and if not death, to plot my imminent destruction.
I know I've already mentioned it today, but I'm going to do it again. EVERYONE IS ACTING ABSOLUTELY BLOODY UNUSUAL TODAY! It's making me feel ill.
Lily's nowhere to be found; she disappeared sometime between transfiguration and lunch, and so Lottie and I are eating in amicable silence. Lottie, for some reason, must be a whole lot more observant than me, because after I asked her if she had any idea what was going on she just tilted her head to the side, laughed, and said, "It will all become clear in time, Eva. Just you wait and see."
WHAT THE BLOODY MERLIN IS THAT SUPPOSED TO EVEN MEAN?
I think Lottie's been paying a bit too much attention in divination; not that Professor Selwyn is a bad teacher, but, well, it's divination.
Speaking of divination, I have it after lunch, after charms. We're probably going to have to do a bloody moon interpretation again.
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Gryffindor Common Room
It's sometime after dinner, and for some odd reason, there's a large congregation of us seventh-years just sitting around the biggest fireplace in the common room. I'm squished in between Lily and Lottie on the small sofa, Marley, Alice, Black and Peter are sitting on the ground in front of us, Remus has a couch to himself, for some bizarre reason, and Potter keeps switching between the ground, the other couch, and Remus' couch. He's obviously too immature to understand the finer points of growing older.
Speaking of growing older, mum seems to be doing the same thing. I haven't gotten a single letter since her 'first day' one, and poor Selene's probably awfully bored up in the owlery all by her lonesome. I should probably visit her at some point, you know, because that's what nice pet owners do and all.
Anyway, we're all gathered here today, as Potter eloquently puts it, to celebrate his "victorious triumph over the weak-minded, greasy-haired, pureblood fanatic terrorist breeder, ex-potions-pro Slytherin that is Snivellus Snape."
Naturally, Potter is quite proud of his achievement of triumphing over his mortal enemy in what is seen as his enemy's home turf, and he somehow managed to sneak butterbeer in to celebrate. If anyone asks, we're all drinking pumpkin juice.
I think Lily's chosen not to drink in protest of her dwindling yet still-there relationship with the mortal enemy in question, yet I don't see her berating Potter for his beautiful rendition of Hogwarts' school song. I'm not entirely sure why that was his song of choice, I mean, it's not particularly relevant to anything, but who knows when it comes to James Potter. Who bloody knows?
"Evelyn," says Black all of a sudden. "Guess what time it is!"
Oh, Merlin. I'd forgotten about detention. At least I have patrols with Remus tonight!
"Time to finally admit you're a git and a half?"
"Oh, Evelyn, you must have me confused with someone else," Black grins as he grabs my hand and pulls me off of the sofa, "I admitted that years ago! So long, Prongs, Moony, Wormtail, entourage! Places to be, people to do, that sort of thing!"
"Enjoy detention," Lottie snickers.
Potter hi-fives Black over my head.
Funny.
I trudged grudgingly after Black, ignoring the hoots and hollers coming from Potter's direction, only stopped by a loud 'thwack' and a consecutive 'ouch'I can only assume was Lily's work.
Gotta go, diary.
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Gryffindor Common Room
Whoever came up with the brilliant idea of giving birth to Sirius Black obviously didn't expect him to come out as a bloody annoying prancing Gryffindor with no respect for privacy and no idea of the concept of personal hygiene. You get within three feet of him and the smell of wet dog goes right up your bloody nostrils.
Anyway. Detention.
Filch had us polishing trophies again, which isn't really fun when Black is so full of energy he can't stand bloody still, and so spent half of the time singing (terribly, I might add) to the tune of a song by the Phoenix Fiends (You've Put a Hex on My Feet, if I remember correctly), except changing the lyrics to more of a serenade to the giant squid who lives in the Black Lake.
The other half of the time he kept trying to talk to me, which I tried my best to discourage. Like, he kept asking me these weird and irrelevant questions, like, "So, Evelyn, how was your potions experience?"
"Uh, it was normal? Average? It's just potions, Black. Aside from your frustrating presence there was nothing out of the ordinary."
"Oh, well, okay," Black replied, hopping on one foot to the other. "There were no, uh, interesting revelations of any kind? No interesting, uh, smells?"
"If you're referring to our potion Black, I'm not going to tell you anything."
What an idiot. He'll probably tease me into tomorrow if he knew I smelled bloody flowers. He'll probably pick them and give them to me as some sick prank. Git.
"I'll tell if you tell," he grins.
Tempting, but no. Actually it's not tempting, because I would have to have some small smidgen of care for Black, and I don't. Obviously.
We kind of worked in silence after that.
Now I'm sitting anxiously in the common room, waiting for Lily and Potter to come back from their patrol, so Remus and I can go.
I don't know where Remus is, and, well, actually, I don't know where anybody is. It's almost 11, and I'm tired but you know, sleep or Remus? I don't even need to write the answer down, it's so bloody obvious.
Where is he?
Oh, wait, the common room door's opening... Remus! Thank Merlin! He looks awfully disheveled though; he's got bags under his eyes and his hair is tousled in that way that looks like I've just run my hands through it, not, of course, that I have done that, but if I did, that's what it would look like.
Anyway.
He spots me and smiles and I could melt on the spot. "Oh, hey Eva. Didn't see you there. I've just got to go clean myself up a bit and then we'll go, shall we?"
"Oh, no, it's fine. You needn't clean yourself up for me."
He grabs the bottom of his jumper and brings it up to his face before sniffing it and wrinkling his nose. "No, I really ought to get changed at least."
"Oh, well, sure then, if you want."
He cares about what I think of him. How sweet.
He runs up the stairs just as Lily and Potter come into the common room. It's so quiet you could probably hear the wings of Potter's bloody snitch beating if he let it loose in here, and it feels awfully tense all of a sudden.
Lily looks pale but flushed at the same time. Maybe she's coming down with a cold? I should let Pomfrey know to look out for her. Potter just... well... it's bizarre actually, he just, well, looks... subdued. Not his usual arrogant self. In fact, by the colour of his cheeks one could say that he was blushing.
Could this day get any more bloody unusual?
"Oh, hi Eva," Lily says, looking startled. "I didn't see you there."
That does seem to be a trend tonight.
"Yeah, uh, where's Moony?" Asks Potter, rocking back on his heels, still standing with Lily in the doorway.
"Here I am, dearest Prongs," Remus shouts, jumping (I kid you not) down the stairs. "I am prepped and ready to rumble."
Potter raises an eyebrow. "Well, that's, that's good for you mate. Enjoy your patrol, I'm heading upstairs."
"Great." Remus grins at me, "Shall we go, Eva?"
"We shall."
Thursday
September 10, 1977
Gryffindor Girls Dormitary
So I've had the most ridiculous night, I mean, honestly!
It all started off well enough; Remus and I walking through the moonlit castle together, listening to the silence. He soon started asking me about the lesson, the potions lesson to be specific.
"So I saw that yours and Padfoot's potion was pretty good, right?"
"Yeah. Weird, right?"
Remus laughs, "Well not too weird. Sirius is quite clever when he decides to be. Not, of course, that you aren't perfectly competent yourself," he adds hurriedly.
"Oh, well, yeah."
Merlin, Eva. Could you be any more eloquent?
"So, uh, you made Amortentia, right?"
"Right, and you?"
"Oh, uh, Draught of Living Death. It wasn't nearly as good as Snape's though."
"Oh I'm sure it was."
"Sure."
It was a little bit silent after that.
Remus started up the conversation again by asking, "So, the uh thing with Amortentia, I've, well, noticed from my past experiences, is that it sort of conjures up particular smells."
I raise an eyebrow. "Are you trying to ask what my potion smelled like? Because I'll let you know you're not the first today."
Remus blushes and looks away. "Oh, no, I um. But, well, if you wanted to tell me, then..."
"No."
Do you think maybe he's asking because he wants to know if I smelled something of his? I didn't, now that I think about it. But it's the thought that counts, right?
"I'm asking for a friend though, so you can probably just forget this conversation ever happened."
Right. A friend.
There's no way any of his friends would be even minimally interested in the answer to that question though, so I think I know what's going on here, and I must say, I quite like it.
We walk for a bit after that, talking about mundane things like Muggle Studies and the fact that Professor Rowle's new haircut makes her look like Mary Goodnight from Man With the Golden Gun.
Things really started to go awry when we had about half an hour to go. The only person we'd run into so far was a lone Ravenclaw who claimed he needed to go to the toilet. A likely story, considering the bowl of ice cream he had in his hand.
We had just gotten to the Astronomy Tower when I decided to go look out at the Black Lake from the window. I really do love the Astronomy Tower. That tower, the Black Lake, and the library are probably my three most favourite spots in Hogwarts.
Anyway. I was looking out the window just sort of thinking to myself, when my brain blurted, out loud, I might add, that, "the Astronomy Tower would be an awfully romantic spot for late-night snogging."
"Um, well, that's nice, Eva," said Remus awkwardly beside me.
"Well it would be," I said in protest. I mean it would. "You can see the moon nice and big and bright from here."
Remus stares out the window and then looks down at his hands, which I notice are clenched. "Yeah. It would be nice," he says before turning and walking back down the stairs.
Well that was weird? What's going on with him today?
Anyway, we're almost back to the common room when we hear a thud in a nearby broom closet, and someone giggling before another someone says a hushed, "Shut up."
Remus raises an eyebrow at me and opens the door to see, to everyone's shock, Black. Black standing there with his arms around a girl. I think her name is Aislin Murphy, she's one of Isadora James' Hufflepuff friends.
"Oh, uh sorry, mate," Black says, patting Remus' arm.
"What on earth are you doing?" Asks Remus, looking awfully annoyed.
I think I'm still processing.
Black raises an eyebrow. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"You know what, Sirius? When you asked me to help you, I thought you were going to take this seriously. I thought you actually meant it this time. You can't just, go around, doing this, at times like this. I've tried my best to, well, help you tonight, and where do I find you? In a broom closet, at 12 O'clock at night, with, uh, is that you Aislin?"
"Sure is," says Aislin.
"Well, no offense, Aislin, but get lost."
"Righteo," says Aislin, extrapolating herself from Black's grip. "Another time?"
Black says nothing.
Aislin leaves in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room.
"What on earth could have prompted you to think this was a good idea?"
Black says nothing but grins in my direction. "How's it going, Bishop?"
I glare. "It's bloody fantastic, actually. Bloody. Fantastic."
"Well don't get all upset on my account, will you? I mean, why would this be an upsetting situation?" Black grins again.
"It's not. Upsetting, that is. I'm just annoyed because you should be in bed so you can get a good night sleep."
"Is that so?" Black raises an eyebrow.
What the bloody Merlin was that Evelyn? Have you lost your bloody mind?
"Shut up, git."
"Come on, Sirius, go to bed. Don't make this a habit." Remus says, grabbing Black's elbow and dragging him down the hallway. "Sorry you had to see this Eva," Remus adds as he pulls Black into the Gryffindor Common Room. "I had a good time talking to you tonight though. Sleep well."
"Yeah, you too."
"A goodnight kiss for me?" Black asks, sidestepping Remus and coming awfully close to my face.
"Go stuff your head in a hippogriff, Black."
AN: SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE EVERYONE OH MY GOSH SO SORRY!
Basically I mean to update before I went to Africa but then I didn't have time and then when I got back I was swamped with work so I have only just had time but yeah so the ending is a bit rushed who knows if it's any good I certainly don't.
But yeah, please comment your thoughts on the chapter!
Also, kudos to Lexi for the "pureblood fanatic terrorist breeder" thing, in description of Snape. Hope you all liked that.
There hasn't been a whole lot of Peter in it yet, so I'm trying to rectify that.
Hope you enjoyed and please write anything in the comments that you found interesting or would like to see in the future!
XXXXXXX