Creature Comfort

by poisonrationalitie

It's 1975, and there's a crackle to the air that's more than just static. People are disappearing. Protective measures are growing more extreme. lnside the walls of the safest place in the magical United Kingdom, trouble is brewing. Adolesence is hard when your kind keeps getting murdered.

10. up all night

October 31st, 1975

The four Gryffindor boys dumped their stuff in their dormitories and wove through the gathering crowd in the Gryffindor common room, carrying various boxes. A dozen necklaces were slung around James Potter's neck, and he grinned something terrible. Sirius somehow got off with the lightest box, while Peter could hardly see over the tower that was his. Remus brought up the rear, looking rather weathered.

"Can I please come to your Halloween party?" a hopeful Second Year girl asked, tugging on Remus sleeve.

"What Halloween party?" he asked, giving her a puzzled look. She froze, confused, and he followed the others out the portrait hole.

"That looks like trouble," Lily said, watching the boys leave from her place at the desk in the corner of the room.

"Good," Marlene smiled. "What's a party without a little trouble?"

"A healthy conscience," Lily answered, dipping her quill in her inkwell. "If Remus and I are to be there, it needs to be under control. We can't be accused of neglecting our duties, or we'll be kicked out of our positions before we can say 'Halloween'."

"'Halloween' is a long word, though," Marlene pointed out. "'Hal-lo-ween'. You've got time to say three different sounds, so it's not that quick."

"I always forget that you don't know what a syllable is. I'll always be glad that I actually attended junior school."

"Yeah, yeah," Marlene swatted at her. "Whatever."

"Are we meant to go in costume?" Mary asked, looking up from her Transfiguration notes. "Or is that just a rumour?"

"Well, it is a Halloween party, but on the other hand, we can hardly get costumes now, and they didn't exactly advertise the dress code," Lily said. "I think they just want an excuse to smuggle in contraband and try to kiss girls." Mary stopped still, and swallowed hard.

"You think they're going to kiss girls?" she said faintly.

"It's a party, Mary, they're not going to hold hands," Marlene said. "Just borrow some of Alisha's gum, it'll stop your breath from stinking."

"My breath stinks?" Mary gripped the table tightly.

Peter paced back and forth, still carrying his wobbling load, glaring at the others out of the corner of his eye. They'd decided the last one to drop his box would have to be the one to do the walking to open up the Party Room, for whatever reason. Peter thought it would've actually made a lot more sense if the first person to drop his box had to do it, but that had been vetoed. And then, with a groan, he realised he wasn't focusing, and had to start again.

"Come on, Wormy!" James said. "Just think about the awesome party we're throwing you. Think about what you want!"

"I'm trying! My bloody fingers are aching, they're gonna be all blister-y!"

"Blistered," Remus corrected. Peter gritted his teeth. Okay. Focus. Party. Halloween party, so spooky stuff. Spiders? Not real ones, but spiders would be cool. A table, for the food. And drinks. Maybe some chairs? Cushions? Ashtrays - wait, can the school supply us with ashtrays? Maybe the room's not allowed to. It probably shouldn't be giving us somewhere to drink underage either, honestly, but - okay, okay, tables, chairs, cushions, maybe a radio? A radio, please.

"He is trying," Remus noted. "Look at him." Peter's eyes and nose were screwed up so tightly it looked as if a stinging hex had been involved.

"I wish he'd hurry," James said, leg bouncing. "I just want to get in there! Set up some things! I mean, it's not long now, just after dinner and we'll be right. I told the Hufflepuff girls, and Sael Greengrass said she'd tell Elle Lawrence, so the Slytherin girls should find out -"

"Did you just invite all the girls in our year and us as the only blokes?" Sirius laughed. "You've not got much confidence in yourself to find a girl, do you?"

"It's not just the girls coming," James said, cheeks pink. "And it's not just our year, either. I've cut it off at Second Years, we don't need a bunch of twelve-year-olds."

"So there will be Third Years? At the party?" Sirius asked, cringing. "You've invited thirteen-year-olds?"

"Lisbete's fourteen," James said. "There's only a year and a bit between us." Remus raised his eyebrows, and exchanged a look with Sirius. His stomach rolled.

"What time have you said it starts?" he asked. "I need to know if I'll be returning to a party two hours in or not yet begun." In other words, could he enter and grab a drink straight away, or did he have to play 'responsible prefect' for a smidge

"Eight," James said. "Gives everyone nearly an hour after dinner to get ready, and we can come run around up here and get in a bit early. Dale and Ludo are coming up straight after dinner with us, and some of the others on the Quidditch team might be coming too."

"Ludo?" Sirius frowned. "Didn't know we had a 'Ludo' coming up." Remus and James stared at him. This was getting stupid now. He had to be doing it on purpose.

"Ludo Bagman," Remus said slowly.

"The one getting us alcohol," James chirped. Sirius shook his head darkly.

"I can't keep up with all the randoms you drag in," he said.

"I've got it!" Peter exclaimed. A thick stone door appeared in place of bare wall. A large, black skull knocker sat pride of place in the centre of the door. Its eye sockets emitted a strange red glow, and spiky runes covered the cranium. He grinned back at the others. "I can't open it, though, my hands are full."

James grabbed the knocker and hit it against the door once. The door swung open. Peter and James sucked in their breath, and even Remus and Sirius' eyes went wide. Two long tables ran down either side of the room, covered in purple tablecloths, and between them appeared to be a large dance floor. Twisting iron candelabras stood six feet high, each holding a dozen candles, each of which burned twin flames of blue and red. The flames danced, twirling together, skirting around the edges of the candle before releasing plumes of green smoke into the air. A large fireplace crackled at one side of the room, a semi-circle of cushy armchairs surrounding it. In one of the back corners, gauzy patterned curtains cordoned off a small area, and a nearby door was marked 'WC'. A small, round, wooden table perched near the dancefloor, holding only a wireless radio. Walls as black as night surveyed the scene through tiny pinpricks of starlight spotted across their stone canvas.

"Woah," James said. That just about summed it up. The four boys entered the room, closing the door behind them, and dumped their boxes on the nearest table. Peter wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers and winced.

"I told you I'd get blisters," he moaned. They each dispersed to a different part of the room. Remus admired the fireplace, noting the swirled carvings on the mantlepiece, and the framed photographs of popular stars, including all four of the Hobgoblins, who raised their hands in the air and stuck their tongues out, and Fallon Selwyn, who flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder and giggled. James unpacked the boxes, including a couple of pumpkins he'd nabbed from Hagrid the night before, a variety of plastic props that he'd ordered in a catalogue, charmed to move slightly or make sounds, and a variety of sweets from Honeydukes with bowls for each of them. He lifted the first pumpkin and carried it towards the table with the wireless on it, passing Sirius. Sirius stood on his tiptoes, examining the candelabras.

"These are really neat," he said. "I want some to put beside my bed. Where do you even buy candles from, James?"

"I don't know," James shrugged, setting the pumpkin on the ground. "Come here, I need to find a good station. What do people listen to?"

"You own a wireless," Sirius said disgustedly. "Are you telling me you just listen to the Quidditch and the special feature on those Witch Weekly models?" James glared at him.

"It was only one time!"

"Only one time that I caught you," Sirius muttered.

Peter stuck his head through the red curtains, and his whole face lit up. A variety of patterned cushions leaned against the solid wall, and edged around the curtains, creating a small circle. Beneath them was a fluffy red rug that looked like absolute heaven. Peter stepped inside the would-be room, and bent down, patting one of the cushions. It was ridiculously soft. He leaned against it, almost melting. All the muscles in his body relaxed at once.

"Peter?" Remus stuck his head in, and looked down at him. Peter blinked.

"Yep?" he said.

"Enjoying yourself," Remus said. "James wants help sorting the decorations."

"Oh, alright," Peter grumbled, caressing the rug goodbye. "So long as you don't leave me on my own."

The four of them gathered around the table, sorting sweets, and then they took to decorating. Peter flicked his wand, sending a twittering, fluttering bat towards the ceiling. He flicked his wrist in a clockwise circle, finishing the spell, and the plastic bat stayed there.

"Are we going to touch the spells up through the night?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at James.

"Just overpower them, Wormy," Sirius said easily. "It'll last a bit."

"But nah, I don't reckon we'll need to touch them up," James said. "They'll last a bit, and by the time they don't, it's not like anybody will care. Once everyone's into the Firewhisky, it won't matter. Anyways, watch this! I wanna try to do the whole nonverbal spell thing, Laura Vickers was telling me about it."

Remus rolled his eyes, but tucked his wand in his pocket and went to James. They spent five minutes watching him furiously motion with his wand, face screwed up in conversation.

"Do it quicker," Sirius said. "You're going too slow with the movements, it's not going to realise you're trying to do that particular spell at all."

"Will it even last any decent amount of time, with you doing it nonverbally?" Remus asked. "If you can cast it all."

"I can cast it," James said. He swished his wand again, flicked it downwards, and pointed it at the pathetic little plastic bat on the ground. The bat screeched. James' hand trembled. He gripped his wand tighter again. Leviosa Immotus, he thought. Leviosa Immotus. Leviosa Immotus. Leviosa Immotus. He pressed his lips together. He pictured the bat floating upwards, higher and higher with each flick, and floating in the air. He tensed his stomach. Leviosa Immotus. Leviosa Immotus. Was it shaking? Maybe it was shaking! Leviosa Immotus. Leviosa Immotus. Something in his line of sight moved, and he let out a whoop- and then he saw Sirius smirking at him.

"You moved it!" James said, jabbing his wand at Sirius. His arm ached with the movement.

"I grazed it," Sirius said, waving a hand. "I nudged it, just with my foot, I was -"

"You dick!" James shouted.

"You're a hairy penis," Peter told Sirius cheerfully. James eyed him. The joke wasn't as funny when the butt of it wasn't Peter.

"What the fuck?" Sirius made a face at Peter. "Are you right, mate?"

"I was trying really hard," James said, twirling his wand in his hand. "I nearly had it!"

"You did not!" Sirius said. "And it's taking ages anyways, just do it normally!"

"It's not like I've ever done it before!" said James. What was he meant to do, just close his eyes and beat Dumbledore in a duel? They weren't even learning nonverbal spells until next year! James figured Sirius was just annoyed because he hadn't thought of trying it first. Maybe if Sirius actually hung out with older students, James thought, he'd come up with ideas as good as mine.

"Yeah, and don't ever do it again," Sirius said. "That was painful. You looked like you were taking a massive shit." James scoffed. He tried to think of a quick jinx, but a knot throbbed at the front of his head, and his eyes drooped. He felt like he'd run five miles after trying to do that stupid nonverbal charm.

"Your face looks like a massive shit," James grumbled.

When they left the Party Room to head down to the Feast, it seemed significantly more ready for a party, although the taste of the decorators was easily questioned. Fake bats hovered in the air, flapping their wings and emitting loud screeches that cut through the rock'n'roll station on the wireless, even though Remus had tampered with the radio as to make it play three times louder than usual. One table was covered in bowls of sweets, such as licorice wands, Fizzing Whizbees, and Ice Mice, though there were a handful of Acid Pops and hiccoughing sweets in the mix. Three plump pumpkins turned different colours at a touch, and the blankets draped over the chairs by the fireplace howled when someone sat on them. On the mantle, the Hobgoblins bobbed their heads appreciatively to the sound of their own music, but Fallon Selwyn's had been replaced with one of James posing similarly. Sirius smirked to himself as he shut the door to the room, and made a note to tell his Uncle Alphard about the use he'd found for that spell.

The Great Hall buzzed; the younger students darted around, pointing at the bats that flew through the air in well-rehearsed motions, and dodging the floating orange streamers that danced across the room, wrapping themselves around an unsuspecting student and giving them a tight squeeze before wriggling away. Large black cauldrons were scattered throughout, steaming and emitting a variety of odd smells.

"I think it's amortentia!" A fourth year declared, pointing at a cauldron and a group of girls sprinted towards it, elbowing each other to get closer. One reached to dip her finger into the mixture; there was a bang and a shower of lilac sparks.

"Ah, that's a very powerful potion, girls," Professor Slughorn smiled, passing on his way to the High Table. "Smell all you like, it's a wonderful scent, but don't you go trying any, or trying to brew it, you mind. Plenty of restrictions." Their faces fell.

"Maybe that's what Lisbete's done," Sirius whispered. "Fed James one of those."

"Hardly," Remus said. "James just naturally has the personality of a lovesick idiot."

James was already at the Gryffindor table, Lisbete at his side, Cathy at hers, and Peter was very determinedly staring at the ceiling. At least it was an interesting ceiling. Black candles twinkled with light, arranged as to be an obstacle course for the bats soaring around, and above them the Great Hall appeared to open to a startlingly black sky, without a cloud to be seen. Peter watched the bats race in figure-eights through the candlelit course in the sky.

"Yeah, thank you," Cathy said. Peter's head snapped down. "I think it does Dale good to have a purpose, even if the purpose is to smuggle drugs into the school."

"I wish you were my younger sibling instead of Regulus," Sirius said, joining them. Cathy raised her eyebrows, and ducked to avoid Sirius' attempt at a hair ruffle. Good, Peter thought. It was weird for Sirius to ruffle her hair. There was no need for that.

"How many people are you expecting?" Lisbete asked, smiling dazzlingly up at James. James went bright pink and mussed his hair.

"Er - well, most of us older Gryffindors are coming - so maybe forty of us, plus a few younger - that'd be about fifty Gryffindors. And we've tried to let the other houses know, too, but I dunno what the turnout will be like." Peter looked over at the other house tables. All the girls seemed to be swarming, and a couple of them looked in his direction. A fair few boys did too - mostly Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He did see Snape glowering, but he was sitting with a bunch of the older Slytherins, the really twatty ones. Peter thought that was about right. His mum always said that birds of a feather flocked together.

Remus came over, arms full of treats, and Peter grabbed some in each hand. Cathy took an Acid Pop and didn't even wince. He hated them; he always thought he'd open his mouth up and have a tongue piercing. Well, really, just a hole in his tongue, but Sirius always said that if you got a hole in your tongue for whatever reason, you may as well just put a piercing in. It was punk.

Peter didn't know if he wanted to be a punk. It sounded kind of scary.

The candles flickered all at once. Peter glanced at the High Table, and saw that Professor Dumbledore stood at the lectern.

"Come on," he said, and sat down on the nearest bench. For a moment, the hall echoed with the sound of scraping and shuffling; and then there was mainly silence. A tall blue brimless wizard's hat sat atop Dumbledore's grey head, but more noticeable was his beard.

"Look at that," James guffawed. "That's mad! I wonder what spell that is."

"What's it supposed to be?" Remus asked, lifting his chin to look over the top of the others' heads. "A skull?"

"A full skeleton!" Peter said enthusiastically, pointing. "Look - that's the ribcage there, and I think that's an arm."

"Good evening, students," Dumbledore began, and the room hushed. The candlelight flickered again, and then died. A few girls screamed. Dumbledore looked to the sky, and then back out at them; the only light was now that of the stars, and the candles still burning in the pumpkins. "Welcome to the Halloween Feast. I firstly wish to welcome our guests of honour." He clapped his hands together. A dozen ghosts emerged from the walls, gliding six feet above the tables. Nearly Headless Nick looked very dignified, and circled around the Fat Friar, who waved cheerily down at the Hufflepuffs. The Bloody Baron rattled his chains in a way that made Peter flinch, though Remus supposed it could've been considered musical, if you were tone deaf and had never heard music before, and the Grey Lady, stared wistfully at nothing in particular.

After a minute, their dance - if that was indeed what it was supposed to be - ended. Professor Dumbledore led the applause, and the students joined in. Nearly Headless Nick swooped down on the table.

"Ah, I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said.

"I think it was inspired, Sir Nicholas," Lily grinned, eyes glinting.

"Thank you, thank you," he said, puffing his chest out. He glided down towards Alice Rhysfield and Frank Longbottom. All of a sudden, the candles lit up once more. Lily turned her attention back to Professor Dumbledore, who smiled pleasantly.

"Thank you for that performance," he said, addressing the ghosts. All the participants bowed, barring the Grey Lady, who swept into a graceful curtsey. "Now, I'm sure you are all very eager to eat, and enjoy what merry pleasures may await you on this fine Halloween night." His eyes twinkled, and Marlene snorted beside her.

"Who let the dragon out of the egg?" Marlene said. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Potter probably invited him," she whispered. It seemed like the sort of thing he'd do for a laugh.

"But first, I must introduce our next performers - the Frog Choir, conducted by Professor Flitwick. They will entertain us as we enjoy the fantastic meals that have been prepared for us. Without further ado - dig in!"

Food flooded the tables to the delight of many. Professor Flitwick led the choir onstage. Lily recognised a few of them - Adrian Stebbins had joined, for whatever reason, using someone else's toad, and Elle Lawrence from Hufflepuff stood right at the front. Half the year joked that she had to somehow be related to Professor Flitwick, on account of them both being inexplicably tiny. They all opened their mouths and started to sing, toads croaking, and Professor Flitwick swished his wand furiously.

"I must say, the cooking is excellent," Marlene said between bites of a quiche. "Sirius reckons they've got house elves down in the Kitchens."

"Really?" Lily passed a dish of fish down to Kelsey Wood, leaning across the table. "I've never seen a house elf before." She only knew of them from Sev; before Hogwarts, he'd told her all about the one his mother's family had had before she was married, and after they'd started at Hogwarts, he relayed tales of his housemates' elves to her. Lily felt bad for them on occasion; it didn't surprise her at all that Avery found it funny to practice jinxes on his elf, but she nearly hadn't believed that Perseus Padgett had been half-raised by his. They were funny creatures, from the sounds of it, but she couldn't imagine why they'd enjoy being treated the way they were. Sometimes she thought the magical world was completely backwards. At other times, she just enjoyed the bizarreness of bubbling cauldrons and skeleton-shaped beards.

"Me neither," Mary said; her knife and fork were already together on her plate.

"Aren't you hungry, Mary?" Lily asked.

"Not really," she said. "I'm too nervous about tonight to eat. I still haven't decided what to wear, or if I'll drink -"

"If you think you might, eat something," Marlene said. "It'll make it go down better." Mary frowned at her plate.

"Anyways," Lily said. "You don't have to go at all tonight if you don't want to. Honestly, with the common room empty, it might be a good chance to do some revision -"

"Are you mad?" Marlene demanded.

"Can you stop interrupting people?" Lily asked, pursing her lips, but she wasn't serious. Marlene rolled her eyes.

"This is all we've been told about," Marlene said, gesturing with her hands. "You know, 'once you get to fifth year, it's all shindigs and shagging'. This is it, Lily. And if we get pegged as the nerds who don't party now, we lose our chance forever."

"I highly doubt they dole out wedding invitations based on who went to some party in fifth year," Lily said skeptically.

"Come on," Marlene said. "You already said you'd go, and it'll be fun, and you don't want to end up like Snape. Look at him, he looks like he's going to sulk on down to the dungeons and kill himself, he's so miserable. Nobody's ever gonna invite him to a party." Lily tensed. Sev looked pale and drawn, and his arms were folded across his chest. Strings of dark hair fell past his chin, and Lily could see the circles beneath his eyes even from across the Hall. She hadn't spoken to him in nearly a week. He was easy to avoid, even without really trying; they only had Potions, History of Magic, and Study of Ancient Runes together, and in the first two, she was always surrounded by the other Gryffindors. He'd stopped asking if they could work together in Potions, and she wasn't going to ask him when she could pair with Mary or Marlene. Even in Ancient Runes, she had Mary and Amy, and Peter tended to round out their group if needed nowadays in place of Sev.

"I think they should've invited the Slytherin boys to the party," Lily said, dropping her eyes to her dinner and cutting into her chicken. "They even invited the girls from Slytherin, so I don't see what difference it makes."

"The girls can be bitches, but they're mostly fine. It's the boys who are all off wanking to You-Know-Who," Marlene said, throwing the Slytherin table a sour glance. "If they showed up tonight, I'd leave quicker than you could blink."

"Avery and Rosier are prats, fine," Lily said, sawing into the chicken now, pushing down hard. "But I don't see why Padgett and Sev-"

"You wouldn't be complaining if Sev wasn't in that group," Marlene said. "You know you wouldn't." Lily's knife banged the plate loudly, and part of her chicken went flying. It hit Alisha on the cheek. The blonde blinked out of her daydream, looked down at the piece of chicken, shrugged, and put in her mouth. Mary cringed.

"I'm just saying that I don't think it's fair to tar all of them with the same brush. They're not all Avery."

"I'll give you that," Marlene said. "Some of them are far too attractive to be Avery."

"Ow," Lisbete said. James glanced over at her. She had a hand on her ribs. He'd elbowed her again. In his defence, there was hardly an inch between them, and eating did generally need you to move your arms around a bit.

"Sorry," he said, and put his fork to his mouth.

"No, it's alright," she said, shaking out her blonde hair and smiling broadly. Sirius snorted from James' other side. James elbowed him deliberately. Apparently there was nothing funnier than him talking to Lisbete, for whatever reason. Godric, wasn't he allowed to talk to a girl? He'd spent all day with his mates, it was hardly unfair for him to talk to someone who wasn't them for a couple of minutes. He swallowed his mouthful and cut off another piece of steak. Lisbete inhaled sharply. He looked at her again. Lisbete smiled, rubbing circles onto her side, eyes creased.

"It's alright, really," she assured him. James shrugged, and took his next mouthful. If it was bothering her, she could always move, he figured. And it wasn't intentional.

"I'm not sure I should be taking advice from you, Wormy," Sirius said, throwing him a look. Peter pulled a face.

"I'm trying to be helpful," he said. "Your plan won't work."

"Say, completely unrelated, but remind me when you last kissed a girl?"

"I have," Peter insisted. "Paige Nicholson, in third year."

"You kissed a third year?" Sirius demanded loudly, leaning towards Peter, doing his best to keep a straight face. He shook his head. "I mean, unless she's already fourteen, like Lisbete here -"

"Yes?" Lisbete said brightly, peeking around from James' other side. Sirius fought to hide his grin. Oh, this was good.

"You haven't snogged Pete, have you?" he asked casually. Her look flitted from shock to disgust to a feigned offhandedness. Keeping an eye on Peter, he saw the slight droop when Lisbete wrinkled her nose for a moment. Perfect.

"No!" she said, looking at James. "I have never snogged Peter. I would never snog any of your friends, James." James gave her a thumbs up, and Sirius' shoulders quivered. Keep it up, he told himself. Don't falter now.

"I meant that I kissed a girl when we were both in third year," Peter said. "Paige Nicholson."

"Oh," Sirius said. He actually remembered that. Double date in Hogsmeade, he'd made Peter tag along because it had been the day after a full moon and James had Quidditch practice. Matilda Mortensen had proved herself a fairly good snogger. He threw a look over to the Hufflepuff table, and spotted her near the front, chatting animatedly with that group of girls she was always surrounded by. Well, maybe if Marlene wasn't up for it tonight…

As the Halloween Feast went on, conversation continued to bubble and rise, and not even Professor Kettleburn's musical Mackled Malaclaw could keep heads from turning to the door. James developed a persistent wriggle at around 6:45, and by 6:55, the infection spread to Peter, Sirius, Lisbete, Marlene, Mary, and Alisha. Remus glowered at the Slytherins, just in case they decided to point out the symptoms of the bladder infection he was beginning to suspect. Finally, a minute earlier than usual, Professor Dumbledore rose to the lectern. His presence commanded a considerable amount of silence, albeit not as much as usual.

"I trust that you have all enjoyed the delectable selection of food and drink we have had tonight," he said, smiling. "Not to mention the world that your teachers and staff have crafted for you in this hall tonight. But without further ado, I will let you head to your common rooms, for I can see that many of you are thrilled by the prospect of a productive night of study. I have no doubt your professors are delighted by this bout of enthusiasm. Very well. You are dismissed."

The Hall had never been vacated quicker.

Gaggles of girls dashed towards their dormitories, patting their hair and rubbing their eyebrows; a few boys set their sights on the staircase down to the Kitchens, or otherwise slapped each other on the back and spoke of where to meet and whether a clean shave was more likely to win someone's heart. Lily fingered her prefect badge and waved goodbye to her roommates. They promptly disappeared into the crowd. She spotted Remus in the flood streaming from the Great Hall, and raised her hand. He raised his. Lily straightened up, and pushed into the crowd, fighting with a barrage, of 'excuse me's and 'sorry's.

"I hope Potter and Black are good at crowd control," she remarked. "If I'm turning in my badge for the night as to not dob on them, I'm turning in my badge for the night and not helping them either."

"A luxury you have by not being their friend. Pity me."

"Pity you? You've not complained before."

"I can't complain in front of my captors, Lily. Don't you think they'd get revenge?"

"Not on you," Lily said. "Peter's your whipping boy." Remus chuckled. The pair of them moved to the side as the rushing rapids slowed to a small trickle; and finally, the professors emerged.

"Goodnight, Lily!" Professor Slughorn beamed, waving as he made for the staircase down to the dungeons.

"Goodnight, sir!" she called back. Finally, they were the only souls left in the Entrance Hall. She turned to Remus. "Shall we?"

"Yes," he said. "I suppose we shall."

Mary shut the door behind her as she entered her dormitory. Marlene, clad in only a lacy bra and cream pants, tore through her trunk with the ferocity of a mountain lion. Mary's eyes dropped to the floor. She determinedly ignored the fluttering in her stomach as she crossed to her bed.

"A dress?" Alisha asked nobody in particular. "Or a skirt and top?"

"Why not jeans?" Marlene said, holding a pair of her own up. "Look, these are flared, aren't they cute?"

"Yes," Mary said in a small voice, before realising it had been rhetorical. Her cheeks warmed. She reached for the golden tassels hanging by her bedside and tugged; the red curtains enclosed her space almost immediately.

"Oi!" Marlene called. "Mary, how are we supposed to help you if we can't see you?"

"How are you meant to help us?" Alisha added. Mary didn't respond, and she heard Marlene distinctively harrumph. The noise caught like a knot in her hair. Mary bent down and undid the latch of her trunk, pushing the lid open to rest against the end of her bed. Her clothes were folded neatly, and she wished she didn't have to take them all out to look for something to wear. Nevertheless, she did so with a sigh, stacking her school robes and cloak and hat on the bed before pulling out her normal clothes. Mary glanced over her shoulder; the curtains were definitely closed. Good.

First she selected a long cream dress, embellished with pink daisies. There was no mirror by her bed, so she judged from looking down at her body. She looked all weird and lumpy beneath the baggy dress. She bunched some of the fabric in her hands and pulled it tight against her. She could see her stomach through the cream material. A pouch of fat bulged over the top of her underwear. Dread flooded her. She tore the dress off and threw it onto her bed.

And so on it went. She abandoned a skirt for the sliver of her fat ankles that showed, a pink top for hitching up slightly when she raised her arms and exposing a swathe of tummy, a turtleneck for pushing up a slight slump beneath her chin. The pile on her bed grew steadily taller.

"Mary!" Marlene shouted. The curtains flung open. Mary grabbed her cloak and slammed it against her chest, covering herself.

"I'm getting dressed," she said weakly. Marlene's brown hair fell in thick waves to her armpits, and yellow eyeshadow glittered beneath her newly-plucked brows. She clipped in a chunky yellow hoop with one hand, her other holding the curtains open.

"Hurry up, then," Marlene said. "We're all leaving on the dot, unless you want to wait for Lily."

"I think we should wait another hour before we go anyways," Amy said, appearing at Marlene's side. Mary flinched. Dark triangles leered sharply from both above and beneath her eyes, and her dark hair frizzed in a fierce shag.

"No," Marlene said. "I'm not missing any of it."

"Exactly, you're going to look overeager and like a fool. If you're as desperate to be cool as you sound, you'll wait an hour," Amy advised. Mary tensed as Amy's sharp eyes raked over her. "Wear something orange." Mary managed a stiff nod. Amy strutted out of sight in dark dragonhide boots.

"Could you please close the curtains, please?" Mary whispered. Marlene shrugged.

"Alright, but hurry up."

The pair turned around another corner. Remus recoiled, and Lily barked a laugh. The two younger students broke apart, smoothing down their robes. Remus caught a flash of green, and for a wild moment, thought Sirius' brother was one of them. But no - Sirius and Regulus looked alike, and whoever this was dwarfed both of them in both width and height.

"Hi," said the girl, flashing a mouth of yellow teeth.

"Hi," Lily replied, smirking at Remus. Remus clenched his jaw, and shook his head. Not likely. What was he meant to say? "It's a nice night, isn't it?" Their two victims hesitated, eyes bulging. Remus shot Lily a look, and she raised her hand to him, palm flat. "Isn't it?" she repeated.

"Er - yes," the girl said, nodding vigorously. Her ponytail slumped. The boy took a step back, eyes shifting. A large lipstick imprint marked his chin. Remus grimaced. He'd never been much of a snogger, but he'd usually been able to find the other person's lips without too much difficulty. Maybe it's a new trend with the younger years. A vivid image of Lisbete passionately kissing James' chin burst into his mind. He looked away.

"Yes. Bit chilly, but you'd know the warming charm, wouldn't you? Or bluebell flames? And - Rosier, isn't it? I know your brother." Lily's smile widened. Remus touched his pocket, feeling his wand. "Surely you have a nice enchanted cloak somewhere that could keep the two of you warm. The point is, please don't eat each other's faces in the halls, it's generally considered rude, and if we catch you at it again we'll be taking points," she concluded brightly. Younger Rosier stepped forward, grabbing the girl's hand.

"You're Lily Evans," he growled. Remus slid his hand into his pocket. The girl's face paled, and her fingers struggled to break through Rosier's. Torchlight half-illuminated Lily's face, and cast long, flickering shadows across the stone floor.

"Correct," Lily said, a hand disappearing into her robes. Younger Rosier's eyes met Remus'.

"And you're Black's brother's friend." Remus twisted his lips.

"Yes," he said. "Curiously, 'Black's brother' is also known as 'Black'. Or Sirius, but not to you." Rosier glowered. Lily grinned. Remus glowed with satisfaction. Only one little nibble in the back corner of the second-last twist in his brain asked, why does he know Lily's name and not mine? I'm a prefect too.

"I don't have to listen to mudbloods or - er, blood traitors' friends." Remus snapped out his wand, blood rushing to his head. To say that to a prefect? If he'd just taken the reminder on the chin and left, nobody would've thought twice about it. Remus heard plenty of light-hearted stories about being caught snogging in the corridors, and nobody ever seemed too dreadfully upset. To his surprise, Lily laughed.

"Wow, that was fierce," she said. "'Blood traitors' friends'? Inspired." Remus nodded at her raised brows. "Five points from Slytherin."

"Mudblood," Rosier spat. Remus straightened to his full height, at least three inches on Rosier, and leaned over him. You little prick. For a group that lorded themselves over everyone else, Remus expected them to have better manners. Regulus did. Rosier's lip curled, and Remus brandished his wand.

"Another five," Lily said. "And if you say it again I'll let Professor Slughorn know at the next Slug Club meeting. You're really lucky to have such a kind Head of House, you know. He's been helping me decide whether I'd prefer to go on to study Potions or Charms when I finish school, though naturally he's biased towards his own subject."

Remus had to give her credit. Younger Rosier's eyes widened, mouth dropping open.

"You're in the Slug Club?" he asked, stepping back.

"Since halfway through my first year," she smiled. "I heard your brother never quite made the cut. Professor Slughorn takes a dim view of gormless twits." She stowed her wand back in her robes. "By the way, you've got lipstick on your chin." Remus' lips twitched. Younger Rosier clapped a hand over his chin and bolted down the hallway. His girlfriend followed, bright red. Remus whirled around as soon as they disappeared from view, and laughed with Lily until his sides ached.

James danced from foot to foot, fumbling with Dale's lighter. He clicked it for a third time, and it lit the end of the cigarette he held between his teeth. He dumped the lighter in Dale's outstretched hand and took a deep breath. Curling smoke tickled his throat. He inhaled deeper. He pulled the cigarette away, and exhaled a large grey cloud.

"This is killing me," he said. "Why would that even be a thing?" Laura Vickers shrugged.

"I don't know, but it is. Nobody wants to be the first to show up and have to deal with the awkward waiting-around bit." She swatted a hand out. "Dale, can you put it away until later, please? I have lingering prefect guilt."

"Whoops," Dale said, and put the glass bong back under his seat. Laura winced. James took another long drag of his cigarette. When he'd invited everyone to arrive at eight, he'd meant arrive at eight, not eight-thirty or nine or quarter-past eleven. So far, there were exactly seven of them, sitting near what was to become the dance floor in chairs that had appeared when James wished for them. Dale, James, Peter, and Sirius represented their dormitory, with Laura, Kelsey, and Ludo showing up for the Quidditch team. Peter fiddled with the zipper of his brown cardigan, and Sirius kept adjusting his leather coat, pulling his arms in and out and tugging the buttons. Ludo lounged back, one arm holding a bottle and the other reaching for Laura's dark hair. It looked more like a gathering than a party.

James pulled his wand from his jean pocket and pointed it at the radio, flicking upwards. Stubby Boardman's voice rose to a shout. "WE'RE COMING ON OUR BROOMSTICKS, CAST AN 'INCENDIO', AND GET READY, GET READY, IT'S GONNA BLOW!' Sirius rocked his head back and forth in time to the beat. James tried to make a smoke circle, jabbing his tongue as he blew out. The cloud fluffily floated away. James poked his tongue out at it. Weird. That's definitely how you do it. Maybe the ciggy's gone bad. Sat too long.

"They'll all show up, though," he said, stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray. "Fifty, at least. It'll be radical." Okay, even if they were late, so what? It wasn't like it was a school class. Hell, there'd probably be a dozen second years banging down the doors, wishing they could come in. James straightened. Worrying wouldn't change anything. Being a girl wouldn't change anything. He pictured Snape sulking in the corridor, an ugly frown half-hidden by his ginormous nose. Were his eyes glistening? Maybe he'd cry, especially if he saw Lily coming. Maybe he'd bang on the wall, try to get in. James would draw his wand and go out to see him wiping his eyes with his raggedy cloak, and Lily would be trying not to laugh. 'We don't let bigoted gits in, sorry, Snivellus,' he'd say, and Lily really would laugh then, and James would flick off some jinx (non-verbally, of course) to tie his shoelaces together, and they'd watch him hobble down the hall and out of sight. Lily would turn to him, green eyes bright, her long, dark red hair shimmering.

'Oh, James,' she'd say, breathless. 'I'm so glad you did that. I just didn't know how to stand up to him before now.'

'I'm always here for you, Lily,' James would reply, wrapping an arm around her. 'I won't let him get away with that shit, running around and snooping and calling people names. He's a right flobberworm.'

'Oh, James!' And she'd lean in, and he'd lean in, and their lips would meet…

"I'm flattered, but I don't fancy blokes who play Quidditch, they're too far up their own arse and I don't know how I'm meant to fit," Sirius said, whacking James on the arm. James pulled back, moving his arm away, and Sirius snorted. "Save it for Lisbete, mate."

"Lisbete." James blinked. "Yeah." Sirius grabbed the bottle offered by - Luddy, was it? - and took a swig. Whiskey burned his throat. As far as he knew, James and Lisbete hadn't...well, she was only fourteen, so no way. But he'd heard rumours about Padgett and some girl over the summer, and everyone knew about what Renee Walker had got up to in the broom sheds last year. It was only a matter of time until his year started, if Padgett hadn't already, and he wasn't going to pussyfoot around. Fuck, he didn't want to be a Peter, did he? And if word got back to his mother...she wouldn't be as pissed off as Uncle Cygnus had been when Bellatrix spilled the beans on Andromeda during Christmas dinner, but it'd come close. It was almost a shame that Sirius' virginity wasn't considered as important as Andromeda's. He passed the bottle to Peter, who coughed loudly.

Would Marlene take him up? How would he even bring it up? He'd probably have to dance with her first...what was it with girls and dancing? He took the bottle back off Peter and gulped down another mouthful. Dale tried to get the bong out twice more, and Laura Vickers told him off another two times. After some bargaining, Laura and Kelsey wished a bathroom into existence and ducked in there while the others passed around a joint. Sirius puffed lazily, mind turning over. He kept forgetting to write to Andromeda. Or, not forgetting, not really - he'd sit down to write and roll his quill between his fingers and then - nothing. 'How's Nymphadora?', he'd write, asking about the kid he'd probably not meet until he was graduated and his parents gave him a place of his own and left him alone for five fucking minutes. He could write about school, but - what about it? She'd done fifth year Charms and Potions and Herbology before, she wouldn't care that James fell in the lake or that Peter lit his sheets on fire.

He grunted noncommittally when questions came his way. What if Marlene turned him down? It would be fine - it was a party, there was alcohol, Dale had promised a variety of other 'party enhancers', there'd be someone. And he could get it over and done with and boast to James and he wouldn't be falling behind. Sirius Black didn't fall behind - he never lifted a finger in class but was easily in the top ten for every subject, he didn't play Quidditch but would've rivalled James if he bothered. And maybe James would get a proper girlfriend first or whatever, but Sirius would lose it first. He could get a girlfriend later, if he wanted. Most of the girls in his year were just...ugh, fine. Marlene and Amy were fun, and hot, but having deep-and-meaningfuls with them made his stomach roll. That's what his mates were for. If he wanted to have a cry, he'd cry at Remus, not someone he wanted to fuck.

"They're here!" Sirius' head snapped up. James ruffled his hair, gave them a thumbs up, and beelined for the door. Sirius shook himself, brushed off his trousers, and followed.

"So this is it," Marlene said, swinging the door open. Her jeans flared around a pair of red boots (expensive, Sirius thought, and smirked - she'd keep up her end of the deal with half a pack of ciggies next summer), and her eyelids were bright yellow.

"You look good," he said, over James' shoulder. "Yes, this is it."

"Welcome to our Halloween party," James said. "Happy Halloween. You're right on time."

"I told you so!" Marlene exclaimed, rounding on Amy, who looked fairly terrifying and rather like a man. "Anyways, let us in." James and Sirius stepped back from the doorway, and Marlene, Amy, Alisha, and Mary filtered in. He'd almost forgotten about Alisha, but she was pretty too. He didn't really care who it was, so long as she wasn't the sort to cry or want to date or both, which he thought Mary Macdonald would.

Peter furrowed his brows and vanished the extra chairs, probably with a little help from the room itself. Laura and Kelsey emerged from the bathroom. It was starting. It was really, truly starting. The first party of the year. Peter felt the ends of his fingers sparking. There were girls here, now, girls from his year, and the alcohol fizzed in his veins and - oh, God, wow. His smile broadned and his cheeks ached. Candles flickered - in time with the music? Maybe, maybe not. Alisha and Amy spun around the dance floor, ducking under each other's arms. Sirius leaned against the wall, Marlene laughing at something he said, Dale had finally whipped out his bong - it did look quite fancy, for what it was - and he saw the bathroom door swing shut behind James. Peter swallowed, gathered up his courage, and went out onto the dance floor.

"This song's so fast," Alisha giggled, throwing her hands in the air. Peter bobbed from foot to foot. How was he meant to dance. Alisha whirled around, and Peter copied her, cheeks burning. Stupid. "Peter, dance with me. You don't mind, do you, Amy?"

"I spy Dale, I'm fine," Amy said. Dark, studded bracelets jingled on her wrist. Alisha grabbed Peter's hands, and he flushed. Maybe it was just the drink.

"I'm an awful dancer," he told her.

"Don't be silly, it's fine. Nobody can really dance. Just copy me." She rolled her arms around each other, and Peter screwed up his face. His fists spiralled out of control and he whacked her in the chest, but she just laughed.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to," he said earnestly.

"Nice one, Wormy!" Sirius shouted over the roar of the Hobgoblins. "Beating women!"

"Fuck off!" Peter yelled back, and then softened his voice. "I really didn't mean to hit you, Alisha, I'm so sorry-"

"Dance with me to make it up, then," Alisha said, shimmying. He wiggled his shoulders furiously, glaring at Sirius.

James emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on his shirt. Drops of water rolled down his face from his sopping hair. My dad fucking made Sleekeazy's, and yet I'm slicking my hair with water. He didn't have a bottle of the stuff on principle. It'd just be weird. It was kind of a prat move to carry around your own family's product. Being a Potter was alright, but he was much prouder of being James Potter. James Potter didn't give a shit about poncy hair products, he was the best Chaser in a hundred years and the best in Transfiguration of his entire grade. He didn't even know why he'd tried to slick his hair. It was stupid. Lisbete liked his hair how it usually was. Only one person aside from his mother had ever called it a bird's nest, and they didn't matter tonight. He stuck his fingers in it and desperately tried to floof it up once more.

Another knock at the door. James shook his head from side to side, water spraying around him, and strode over. He pulled the door open to reveal a group of Ravenclaw boys.

"Thanks for inviting us, mate," Branton Bellchant grinned. They filed in with a chorus of 'thank you's.

"Oh, and have you seen Lily Evans about?" Glen Vane asked. James grunted. Glen shrugged, and followed the others. James pushed the door, but it bounced back at him.

"We're not too early, are we?" Livia McLaggen asked, dark hair swinging. She scrubbed up alright when she wasn't in her Quidditch gear.

"No, you're alright. Come in," James said. The party was beginning to climb to a respectable number, and there wasn't a Seventh Year in sight yet. James scratched his nose. John Brown had sworn he'd make an appearance, despite the match tomorrow. He grinned. When they'd finished with the Slytherins, there'd be another party awaiting them.

Sunday was going to be rough.

He grabbed a handful of wriggling sour worms from their snack table and squeezed his eyes shut. Let the door appear, open, and unlock for everyone except for school staff members or Slytherins. James looked over at the door. There was no obvious difference, but the room worked, didn't it? It'd be fine. Even if it wasn't, he could worry about it later.

"James!" Ludo thrust a beer into his hand. "Drink up."

"Yeah, thanks," James lifted the beer in a toast. Ludo grinned, cheeks red, and hustled over to Laura Vickers. His blood ran hot as he downed the drink, bubbling. He pushed his shoulders back. This is going to be fucking awesome. He buzzed through the crowd, handing out drinks, adjusting the music volume occasionally. His eyes kept wandering to the door; two groups arrived, but neither of them included her. At least he didn't have to play doorman.

"Where'd you get those?" he asked, stopping by a group of girls from his year. They all held almost-delicate bottles filled with sparkling pink or lilac liquids. Elfwine Kiss, the labels read, different flavours denoted in smaller, coloured writing.

"Oh, a friend of ours got them," said Lauren Clarke, shrugging.

"Nicholas Denver," Paige Nicholson burst out. "He's a Sixth Year. Ravenclaw." The name sounded vaguely familiar. James glanced over his shoulder, thinking.

"Is he here? I don't know if I got invitations round to all the Sixth Years."

"No, he's definitely coming. I invited him - I hope that's alright - and he said he'd bring his friends," Lauren said. James brightened.

"Oh, great. I'll need to make sure we've got enough stuff for everyone, though. How long do you reckon I've got?"

Mary swirled the bottle, frowning at the bubblegum pink liquid. Her stomach was all tight. It looked like soft drink. She brushed a finger over the label. Carbs: 25g. Calories: 176. She'd skipped breakfast, had a sandwich for lunch - two slices of bread, butter on each slice, lettuce, cheese, ham - damn it. Sometimes she considered living off sweets from Honeydukes. They were all labelled neatly, carbs, fats, sugars, calories. Food at home was like that. At Hogwarts, it all just appeared on the table, numbers tossed aside. It was a nightmare. Not to mention the only scales in the school that could weigh a human were kept in the Infirmary.

176. Okay, say the sandwich was - 500? 600? 600, to be safe. Okay. 776 wouldn't kill her. If she wanted to waste her calories on alcohol, that was. She swished the liquid.

"Go on, Mary, we've been standing here forever," Marlene groaned. "Have a Kiss. Or don't. But I'm in agony." She grabbed the Firewhisky bottle from Sirius and gulped. For whatever reason, he had joined them, and his arm draped around Marlene's shoulders. James and Peter weren't even busy, as far as she could see. His grey eyes bore into her. Her hands trembled.

"I just don't know if this is what I want to do," Mary said. 176 calories. Alcohol. It could be a gateway drug just as much as marijuana. And what if she got angry? What if she slapped Marlene or pulled Lily's hair or shouted at Alisha and everyone stared at her and she got sent to Professor McGonagall and got expelled for underage drinking and violence and then she had to sit in the living room with her parents? What if someone tried to take advantage of her? No, that was stupid. Nobody would take advantage of her even if she asked. She was fat, she was huge, and Sirius' arm was around Marlene, not Mary.

"Then don't," Sirius said.

"It'll be fun, though," Marlene said. "But you don't have to. Obviously. But it'd be really fun." Mary looked down at the bottle. 176. It fizzed like soft drink. 176. It's fine, it won't push you over. Be a Gryffindor. She put the rim to her lips and tilted.

"Oh! It - it really does taste like sweets," she said, blinking furiously. Warmth trickled down her throat. Marlene laughed.

"Yeah, I said, didn't I?"

Others joined the dance floor, shimmying and twirling and thrusting, and Peter retreated to the table of drinks.

"Yeah, erm, I would've thought the Wasps had that one in the bag," he agreed, sipping his beer.

"Thank you!" Branton Bellchant said, gesturing to Peter. Peter had another gulp of beer. "That's what I've been saying."

"You're underestimating the Falcons." Adrian adjusted his glasses.

"Underestimating them? Adr, how's that even possible? They're shit."

"How do you explain them beating your beloved Wasps, then?"

"I can't believe this. Pettigrew, tell him." Peter, luckily, had a mouthful. Branton and Adrian looked at him expectantly. He put his hands up, indicating for them to wait, and cast his eye around the room. James was with the Quidditch team. He couldn't take any more Quidditch. Sirius was with - Marlene? And Mary? Fuck. Remus was still on patrol. Shit. Shit. Dale was - alone.

"Mmph!" Peter groaned, not daring to swallow. He jabbed a finger towards Dale. Branton and Adrian looked over, then back to him. He waved goodbye. They blinked. He ducked off into the crowd, swallowing the beer with relief, and beelined for Dale.

He wove through the growing groups of people, keeping his eyes on the back of Dale's head. He narrowly dodged a bunch of fourth year girls, and ended up nearly in Laura Vickers' lap. She swatted at him, and he stumbled back. It took a moment for him to reorient. Branton and Adrian's eyes burned into the back of his skull. He didn't dare turn around to see if they were watching him. Truth be told, he hadn't really listened to the Falmouth-Wimbourne game. He didn't go for either team. He only followed professional Quidditch to the extent of barracking for England. The door creaked loudly as another group joined the party, and Peter craned his neck, itching to escape. The only thing worse than Quidditch would be if someone tried to talk politics with him. He'd rather jump off the Astronomy Tower. In the back corner, the red curtains rippled, and Peter squared his shoulders and nearly sprinted over.

"Ow!" some girl yelped as he trod on her foot.

"Oh, I'm really, really sorry!" he shouted, stopping for a moment. He teetered on the verge of returning to apologise to her, but she'd melted into the crowd. He shook his head and pushed through the curtains.

Dale reclined on the cushions, his bag tossed aside, a drink in his hand, looking every inch a king. Peter nearly bowed. Then he realised how stupid that was, because Dale just had shitty drugs, not any sort of claim to kingship, and he would've looked like a twat. His cheeks burned. He plopped himself down on one of the nearer pillows.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," said Dale. "Good one so far?" Peter hesitated.

"Can I have a smoke?"

Dale laughed.

Remus exchanged a look with Lily, his hand hovering over the doorknocker.

"Go on, then," she said. Remus winced, and thumbed his prefect badge. The long corridor was empty aside from them - he figured most would've arrived already, seeing as it had started about an hour ago. Plenty of people had passed them, trudging up the staircase in the early part of their patrol, but as the night wore on, the crowds had grown fewer. It had been rather strange. Friday nights usually saw more people roaming the castle, especially on Halloween. Not that he knew that from experience.

"What's the bet they take our prefect badges off us if we go in?" he asked. Lily shrugged.

"That prat Jugson from Slytherin is still a prefect, so in honesty - don't you dare tell anyone I said this, though - slim to none. It's more about the principle of the thing. But we're here now, so go on." Remus moved his hand.

The door swung open, and the scene before him looked like a painting, almost. Multicoloured lights flickered, and groups swarmed together, chatting silently and cradling drinks. He looked back at Lily.

"Ladies first?" he offered. She raised her eyebrows.

"Be brave," she said. He sighed, and stepped over the threshold.

All at one, noise erupted, the barrier broken. He recognised James' voice first amongst the din, and found him juggling a quaffle and a bottle of brown liquor, shouting something at Ludo Bagman and Billy Pomfrey, who seemed to be half-dancing, half-spasming in support. Several girls from his year spun around the dancefloor, and a squadron of Ravenclaw boys in dark jackets gazed out at the world through smoky haze. Remus heard the door shut behind him.

"They certainly wasted no time," Lily said dryly. "It looks as if everyone will be in bed by curfew." Remus chuckled.

"You might be onto something." The pair hovered at the edge of the crowd; he couldn't spot Peter or Sirius at all, and there was no sign of Dale. His gut twisted. They'd be there somewhere. They wouldn't skip out on their own party. It was just - so crowded, that was all. Faces whirled past too quickly for him to name them. His eyes eventually found a fixed point - the drinks' table. Unless someone got silly with a wand, at least that wouldn't run off on him. "I'm going to get a drink," he said, voice wavering more than he'd wanted. He swallowed down his nerves. "Uh - do you want one, Lily?" She squinted at him.

"I'm happy to stay on this side of legal for now. Thanks, though. Shoot me a stinging hex if my perfect prefect presence is needed." She grinned at him, disappeared so quickly she might've disapparated.

He blinked. Steady on, he told himself. Drink. He wove through the crowd, head down, skirting the edges of the dancers until he reached the table. Bottles glittered under the twinkling rainbow lights, and he grabbed a plain brown beer, not reading the label. Remus unscrewed the lid, and bought the rim to his lips. Success. Now he could actually think about orienting himself.

Sirius leaned against the wall, watching Marlene. Her fringe kept falling in her eyes. His mother would've sliced it with a severing charm in an instant. It was funny, when it wasn't aimed at him. His wand sat in one of the pockets on him, somewhere. Too much extraneous effort. Besides, would Marlene really appreciate it? His lips fumbled at the lip of his bottle. He tipped it upwards. Nothing reached his mouth. Empty. James milled about amongst the throng. Sirius couldn't stand it. That big burly bloke off the Quidditch team just made him want to punch something or someone or – fuck.

"Black," Lily said coolly. "Not gallivanting about with Potter?" Her prefect badge was still pinned to her chest. At a party. It was the sort of thing Regulus would do, were anyone ever stupid enough to give a spineless colt like him a position like that. He doubted Regulus had big enough balls to tell anyone in his house off.

"Obviously," Sirius said, and thumbed his chest. "Badge?"

"I just came off my patrol. Remus, too. He's here somewhere. Getting drinks, though it doesn't look as if you need any more." What did James see in her? She was so fucking self-righteous. Not like Marlene. Marlene was fun. And where was Remus? Why hadn't he come over? Was he pissed off that they'd started the party without him, was he pissed off that James was swanning around being the star of the show with that stupid Moult girl goggling at him and the stupid fucking Quidditch team like the stupid fucking team Regulus was on and stupid stupid stupid fucking stupid! And why was his drink empty? And Marlene…oh, shit, right. Marlene. Tonight. Falling behind. He couldn't, imagine Mother when she found out what he'd done – it would've been worse if he was a girl, or if she wasn't pureblooded, but, whatever, her stepmother was black and that'd piss Mother off enough, wouldn't it? Did she even know that? Of course she'd know, she knew everything, except about what a gutless twit her younger son was. Regulus. For all he prattled on about 'the Dark Lord', Sirius was sure the wizard would take one look at him and kick him, like he was Narcissa's stupid little dog that she'd had with the crust around its eyes.

Mary Macdonald kind of reminded him of the little dog. Pale and empty-headed and squeaky and round. She jabbered again and swung round that coloured bottle of lolly water and Lily's face scrunched and Marlene laughed. He pressed his palms against the wall. Maybe he could melt into it. But Marlene – he had to – James would just get there first otherwise, with that simpering third year, and – who knows, maybe he'd fall in love. Maybe he'd love her more than Father ever loved Mother and they'd go on dates to some shop and his body would warm from the inside out. It'd be worth the teasing.

"Marl," his voice echoed, "Marl, can I speak with you?" He'd interrupted. A well-trained jolt shot through him. Marlene looked at him, head cocked.

"Uh, yeah, alright," she said, and then something to the others. He just needed to get this over and done with. James shimmied under the lights and Lisbete twirled, skirt flaring out, all giggles. Like Mary. Like Narcissa's little dog. He gritted his teeth. He slid away, Marlene following him. At his side, a large lump bubbled out of the wall. It solidified next to them, dark as night, blocking Lily and Mary from their line of sight. Huh. Maybe Marlene had wished for it. Convenient.

"What's up?" she said, leaning against the new wall. Sirius' stomach gurgled. He'd witnessed a handful of proposals over the years, but never…this sort of one. He caught sight of Lisbete laughing loudly at something James said. Where was Remus? Why hadn't he come over? Was it that fucking stupid to assume they'd spend the night together? What hole had Peter crawled into and died in? Some shitty song blared out of the radio., He dug his nails into his palms. "Sirius?" Time to eloquently word something. He squared his jaw, hesitated, and dove in.

"Do you have your eye on anyone?" he asked. Marlene raised her eyebrows, blinking quickly, and then laughed.

"Tell James the way to a girl's heart isn't through her best friend. And that he's a pussy for not asking me himself," she said.

"Not him," Sirius said. Marlene pursed her lips, and she scratched her head.

"Well, nah, nobody in particular. I mean, I'm open to - well, mostly whoever, not fucking James though. Or a Slytherin."

"Fuck that," Sirius agreed emphatically.

Sweat ran in rivulets down his forehead, and his cheeks ached from grinning. He couldn't stop; didn't want to, though. James whirled around the dancefloor, chucking his limbs out, smiling at Ludo and Billy and Livia and John and Betty. Lisbete crashed into his chest and he looked down at her. Her golden hair hung around her face like a glowing cloud. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pinky colour his mother might've called 'Queen Elizabeth rose'. James caught his breath.

"Thanks for coming," he told her again. He'd been waiting for others to arrive too - the Sixth Year lot - but it didn't matter so much now. His heart felt all floaty. She smiled at him.

'I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." James squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck it. Do it. She likes you. He leaned down and closed the gap between them. Her lips were soft. She smelled nice. Like flowers. She tasted like fruit. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he put his hands on her waist. The silk of her dress rustled beneath his fingers. Heat ran through him. I'm kissing Lisbete. I'm kissing Lisbete. He'd kissed girls before - he was fifteen, and he wasn't Wormy - but not in front of so many people. Were they looking? He deepened the kiss. Just for a moment. Then he pulled back. His heart pounded. He opened his eyes, and saw that hers were still shut. Someone whistled.

"Get a room!" Kelsey shouted. Lisbete opened her eyes, gazing up at him. He puffed out his chest. She really does like me, he thought. She does.

"You kissed me," she said breathlessly.

"Was I good?" he blurted out. I was, right? She didn't pull away.

"The best."

Peter coughed. "Really?"

"For real," Dale said. "Fucked up, isn't it?" That was putting it mildly. He tried to wrap his lips around words, but they kept escaping, floating out of reach. Dale stared at the roof, but there was nothing there. He couldn't imagine that.

"Is that why Betty doesn't talk?" he asked quietly. Dale nodded, and his stomach clenched. "Sorry," he added. Dale shrugged. Peter leaned back on the cushions. What would it be like, to have your parents fighting all the time? His parents never fought. It was almost annoying, really. Arguments just weren't permitted in the Pettigrew house - they were rude and there was no need for them when things could be spoken about calmly. What would there even be to fight about? The rules were all fair, everything was within reason. Peter didn't know if his parents were actually capable of raising their voice.

"Do you think it's sort of something you're born with? Being a fighter?" he wondered. If it was, then he looked set to take after his parents. Aside from half-hearted wrestling with his mates, he'd not had much luck in the fighting department. Just a couple of blood noses off Evan Rosier.

"Nah," Dale said.

"Oh." So there was hope for him, after all. Peter didn't want to fight anybody in particular, really, and it wasn't that he wanted to be like whatever mess Dale's parents were, it was just - well, knowing how to fight seemed like a good thing. A cool thing. A Gryffindor thing. A thing that men did well. James could throw down Snivellus Snape in two seconds flat and Sirius had had his share of detentions for hallway hexing, and they had girls all over them and got good grades and everyone knew who they were. People only knew Peter as the one who stood behind them. And the only girl who'd ever shown him half a heartbeat of interest was Cathy. And Mary Macdonald, for a grand total of two days, who had given him a disputed kiss (she said it missed his lips and got his cheek, but he was sure there'd been some lip contact. There had to have been. Please.). He wondered if Cathy wanted a boyfriend who could fight, though, if her parents were like Dale said. He didn't want to seem like her dad. But maybe she thought that was normal, and then if he couldn't fight, she'd think he was too weak and couldn't even reach the baseline of what bad people could manage. He opened his mouth to ask Dale, and then shut it. Probably not a good idea. He'd always hated when James asked about his sister.

"Thanks for the spliff," he said. "I forgot to say that before. Sorry."

"We're mates. I've got you." Peter slid further down the pillows, until he was almost flat on his back. He wrapped an arm around one of the cushions, and pulled it close to his chest, enveloping it in a hug. It felt snuggly. He shut his eyes and rolled onto his side.

Sirius steadied himself with a hand on the wall. His face was numb. He watched Marlene return with a drink for each of them like it was a photo in the paper, only in colour. He used his manners and the liquid slipped down his throat; she clipped her front teeth on the bottle.

"Are you right?" she asked. "I'm not doing anything if you're too far gone. That'd be like fucking a dead dude. No thanks." Sirius blinked. He'd asked now, and she'd agreed, and there was no backing out. He was doing this. Especially after seeing James and that fucking snogfest and vomit gurgled in his stomach. Not necessarily because of James. Just...fucking, all of it, and where was Remus? He could've done with a thumbs-up from one of them, if not both. James had told him to just do it, if he wanted to, but...fuck. His cheeks singed. Loved? Why the fuck had he said that to Remus? Marlene was his mate, and just - fucking - fucking -

He poured the rest of his drink down his gullet and tossed the bottle aside. Sirius stepped over the shattered glass and crashed his lips into Marlene's. She laughed against his lips, but returned the kiss. She was good at it, he thought dully. She broke away, swigged down more drink and grinned at him.

"Fuck it, alright," she said. "This is highly unromantic, by the way."

"You're not Evans, and I'm not fucking James," he managed. Loved. Loved. This was about winning, and getting it done with, and just - he could sleep happy. It'd probably tire him out, at least. It'd piss off his mother. He kissed her again.

"I'm worried I'm going to get really drunk and do something I'll regret," Mary said, swishing her drink. Lily looked her up and down. The bottle still sat three-quarters full, and not even a hair of her curly blonde hair was out of place.

"I think you'll be alright," she said, suppressing a smile. Lily had probably had more alcohol as a five-year-old, just from toasts at weddings and funerals - that sort of stuff didn't really phase her. It was more just a matter of her housemates needing someone to be sober and competent, and as the token prefect who wasn't part of James' group, it may as well have been her. She glanced around the room, bobbing her head half-heartedly to the music.

"Sometimes I wish they'd play muggle songs on the radio," Lily said idly, fiddling with her badge. "You know...one of the Johns, at least, I wouldn't mind if it were Elton or Olivia Newton-."

"The Slytherins wouldn't be happy about that," Mary said, putting her lips to the bottle. She pulled away without sipping. Lily bristled.

"Not all Slytherins are purists and not all purists are Slytherins," she said staunchly. It was that sort of sentiment, oft-repeated, caused half the stupid squabbles between houses. She would've thought Mary would've seen through all of it; she had probably (as Lily had) been assigned a house in primary, though probably through her surname being categorised as opposed to an enchanted hat deciding what attributes she did or didn't have.

"I know, sorry," Mary said, dropping her eyes. Lily pursed her lips. Someone had conjured a pong table, and James Potter played expertly, sending the ball back towards his opponent with a flick of his wrist. Glen Vane stood opposite him, licking his lips as he surveyed his opponent.

"Come on," she said to Mary. "Wherever Marlene and Black have got to, they're clearly in no hurry to come back." She took Mary's hand and wove through the crowd until she reached the little throng surrounding the table. A blonde girl, maybe a fourth year, looked adoringly up at Potter. Lily felt sick. He's not the fancy hero, she thought sourly. He did rather resemble a movie star, unfortunately, with his windswept dark hair and blinding smile, but Petunia read far too many tabloids for Lily to think that an entirely good thing. Where went fame followed scandal and cheating and too much drink, and whatever could be said of arrogant men could be said doubly so of arrogant teenage boys, who tended to lack the self-preservation instincts of their older counterparts. Not that Potter seemed to need a PR team - playing for Gryffindor was enough to make half their house fall in love with him. Indeed, she spotted a handful of the players cheering him on, and booing whenever Glen parried a difficult shot.

Glen was what James could be, Lily thought, if he wasn't such a tosser and gave half a shit about his grades. Glen was just as good looking as James - if not better looking, because he knew how to dress - and just as clever, and funny and opinionated too. She'd dated him back in second year, for a grand total of a week, until he'd come to her with teary eyes and said that his mother didn't approve of him dating so young. Lily supposed she'd defrauded him with all that hand-holding. She bit back a laugh.

"Go Glen!" she said, flashing him an encouraging smile. He looked over to her, smiling back -

SPLASH!

"You did it!" the younger blonde shrieked, and threw her arms around Potter's middle. The pong ball had landed in the bewitched moving cup Glen had been protecting. Potter glowed, and ruffled his stupid hair with his wand still between his fingers; red sparks flashed from the end.

"Thanks, Evans," Potter grinned at her. He swayed slightly, one arm wrapped around the blonde. It seemed more to steady himself than anything - of course he was already legless. Nothing matched his self-control. "I nearly had him, but your distraction really helped. Lovely outfit, by the way, glad to see you made so much effort for my party."

"Why would I? You're a cockfaced twit," Lily said, glaring at him. "And as far as I could see, Glen was winning. Nice wand care, by the way, you can really tell that you've got balls for brains." Potter cocked his head to one side, shrugged, and scooped the blonde into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," Lily said to Glen, stepping towards him. Mary followed. He smiled sheepishly.

"Don't be," he said. "I appreciate your support."

"You would've appreciated a win, too, I'll bet."

"I can make do," he promised. "Play with me? We can challenge Potter to doubles."

"Alright," she said. "Mary, you don't mind, do you?" Mary's cheeks were bulging with drink, and she nodded. Lily withdrew her wand from the pocket of her robes.

"Potter, you're on," Glen said.

The Party Room truly was a room of wonder, Sirius thought. A seriously good bit of magic. If his family had focused more on producing witches and wizards of good calibre rather than blood, maybe Grimmauld Place could've been adorned with such a room, and then it wouldn't be so shit. But no, he couldn't have a Party Room that bent to his will back home; he got a stupid fucking tapestry on the wall to prove how inbred he was. Good one, Mother, he thought.

"You suck at this," Marlene said, pulling away. "Let me get on top." Sirius rubbed his chapped lips together, and rolled over. His shirt clung to his skin, made sticky by a sheen of sweat. One moment they'd been making out against the wall, and then they'd staggered backwards through a curtain and flopped onto a mattress on the floor, covered in blankets and pillows. He kicked one out of the road, sending it skidding across the floor. Marlene sat up and hoisted her leg over the top of him. Her hair fell down like a dark sheet past her shoulders, and grazed his cheek when she leaned forwards. Their lips collided again. Is this really happening? It was, yes, that was confirmed with every push of his lips against hers. Marlene McKinnon was on top of him. He noted this dispassionately, like the economic bits of the Prophet. Was it important? Probably? Did he care? Not overly. He fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. Her skin was soft.

"Go on," she said, pulling back. Her eyes bore into him. He bent his neck back, cracking it, eyes staring at the roof. Where was the pumping blood? His eyelids were heavy. He hadn't even seen Remus since the end of the Feast. This is a shit party, he thought. We all care too much about girls. "Sirius?" Her hands pressed against his chest, and she hoisted herself off. He pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"I don't know."

Remus paused, almost wanting to knock. But you couldn't knock on curtains; and if anything horribly affronting was going on behind there, it was awfully quiet. He inhaled, and pushed them open. It was considerably hazier than he'd expected, and reeked of weed, but nobody was fucking, so he counted it as a win. However, Peter was fast asleep. Remus nudged him with his toe.

"Life of the party," he said.

"Mmhmm," Dale grunted, raising his arm. He pinched a joint between two fingers. Remus raised his eyebrows. Dale nodded. Remus plucked it and bought it to his lips. It was a party, after all, and at least he remembered what happened when he was high. He'd only staggered past the point of consciousness a handful of times with the drink, but the thought made his guts clench and jaw ache. It wasn't the hangovers that bothered him (he had worse every month, like clockwork, with every full rotation of that far-flung white rock). His throat stuck together. He coughed loudly as he exhaled, eyes stinging, and handed it back to Dale.

"That was shit," Dale said. Remus rubbed his nose.

"I know." He looked back down at Peter, who was out cold. It had been a big day. Remus thought all his enthusiasm for the party had burned out long before their last class of the day, and now that the night was here and the room was decorated and everything was happening, he really wished he was back in his dormitory, watching Peter and Sirius playing chess and listening to the fire. He tapped Peter's stomach with his foot; nothing. Everyone was giving up tonight. The bones of his face grew heavy. He sighed. "Do you want me to get food? Nobody's really touched the pumpkin pasties."

"For sure," Dale nodded lazily. Remus stepped over the hazy threshold to return to the bubbling brew of students.

Mary's feet were glued together, and her fingers froze around her drink. The bottle was still half-full and yet her stomach was already warm and gurgling. People shouted in her ears and slammed down bottles violently, and the pulsing lights made her feel dizzy. Marlene had gone off with Sirius and now Lily swished her wand about, batting back balls. Mary wrapped her lips around the mouth of the bottle, and poured gently. She only permitted half a swallow of fairy floss liquid to enter before she wrenched it away. If she only drank little-by-little, she could burn it off between gulps. Besides, the quicker you drank, the more drunk you got - she thought Lily had told her that once.

A sharp stab of pain shot through her toes. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out.

"Sorry," said a burly seventh year, pushing past her to join the front of the crowd. Oh. She could scarcely even see Lily anymore; taller people huddled around the table, and only the dazzling flash of spellfire lit up the gaps between the crooks of people's elbows and the wrinkles of their sweaters. Her calves burned from standing; she didn't know how much fat that got rid of. A round of cheers went up, and Lily's voice echoed amongst it all, but Mary didn't know what she was saying. Stupid Glen Vane and his stupid crush. What was it with boys and their need to stick their nose into everything? Couldn't they just leave Mary and Lily alone, for once? They couldn't even find their seats in class without interruption.

She slipped back through the throng with some difficulty. "Excuse me,' she said. "Excuse me, please. I'm sorry. Please. Thank you. Excuse me. No, I'm really sorry. I'm sorry. Thank you so much." The dance floor had emptied considerably, now consisting of clusters of people talking, and a few girls spinning around on thin legs, necklaces bouncing against their collarbones. They were sharp-featured, with strong jawlines, and bracelets rattled from thin wrists. No wonder those Hufflepuff boys were looking. She dropped her eyes to the ground and went wide around them. She wasn't Glen. She didn't butt in where she wasn't wanted. She'd been raised better than that - to be nice and polite and quiet and meek and all the things grandparents from the country liked in a girl. When she'd gone to church - before the diagnosis of witchcraft, as her parents called it - she'd always been told she was mature for her age. Maybe she'd just been stuck permanently at eleven, because now they were always saying she seemed so young.

A quiet corner of the room appeared quicker than Mary expected, marked with a cozy, unoccupied armchair, as if it was just for her. She climbed into it and pulled the rug up over her legs. Her body relaxed into the cushy chair, which was wide enough to make her feel small. Not that she was small - that would be stupid to think, and while she was often stupid, she wasn't stupid about her own body - but she could pretend, with the enveloping rug and the large cushion. She pulled her knees up to her chin, and watched what she could of the pong game. Curiously, she had a better view from the oddly-placed chair than she had amongst it all. Mary glimpsed Lily's red hair and a bouncing ball and half-sipped her drink again.

Marlene huffed. "You know, I was really looking forward to this party, but it's turned out kind of shit."

"Don't be too depressed," Sirius said. "If you're that desperate, I'm sure one of the soggy Hufflepuff blokes would be thrilled to take my place." Marlene thwacked him on the arm.

"Fuck off."

"And I'm the one who treats Hufflepuffs unfairly. McGonagall should see you now."

"I'm glad I didn't end up fucking you."

"You're welcome." He brushed his fingers through his hair and rolled off the mattress. Last chance. If he walked out, that'd be the opportunity blown for the night. Sure, there'd probably be other girls willing, but if it hadn't worked with Marlene, why the hell would it work with them? Pull yourself together. And he'd asked her and thought it all out like they were getting married or something, like he cared. He balled his hands. He didn't care. He didn't care; that was the whole point. He looked back at Marlene, who fiddled with her top. He pursed his lips and sucked in; a fag would've done wonders right about then. "Thanks for being cool about it," he said, with a definite note of finality. He made himself stand up and left without looking back. Stupid mistake; he wouldn't make it again. Some things were better left to chance.

Peter's eyes fluttered. So much bloody light. Fucksakes. He blinked again. Shapes blurred in front of him, and then solidified. The haze and stench of weed didn't exactly help. Dale was in pretty much the same spot as before. Cathy laid next to him, dark hair twisted up, and Remus crouched next to her, crunching loudly on something. Peter reached out his hand, stomach growling. Remus rolled his eyes, and gave him something. Peter shoved it in his mouth without looking at it twice.

"Have a nice nap?" Remus asked. Peter shrugged, chewing. Dale leaned back and exhaled a blue cloud, before passing the joint on to Cathy. He expected her to pass it to Remus, but instead she brought it to her lips. Huh. He peered at her through heavy eyelids.

"Aren't you…" hang on…"...thirteen?" Her blue eyes met his, and she blew out a cloud of smoke. She looked a bit like a ghost, all pale and thin and half-shadowed in the funny coloured light.

"Yeah," she said. Peter blinked.

"Oh."

"You started smoking in third year," Remus said. That was true. But still, when he'd been in third year...well, yeah, he'd been thirteen, but he hadn't felt as young as Cathy looked. Really, he'd been not much different than he was now. But Cathy was young. And Dale's little sister. And just...jeez. "Don't be a hypocrite." Peter screwed up his face.

"Too long," he said. There was only so much someone could have in his head. And at that point in time, half of his head was busy. He was pretty sure most of his brain had turned into fog. Or static. But nice static. Like a massage. Nobody had ever massaged his head before. He'd have to convince someone to when they were back in the dorm. James would, wouldn't he? For a laugh. You know. James had always said he had good fingers. Peter snorted. "I'm going to see if it's true."

Remus gave him an odd look. "What?"

"About his fingers." Remus recoiled, and looked over at Cathy. Dale burst into a fit of giggles, tossing his head back, shoulders shaking.

"It's true," Dale said. "Promise."

"Really?" Peter asked.

"Yup."

"Wow."

"No - what? What are we even talking about?" Remus looked wildly between the two of them. Cathy shrugged. Peter wondered when Dale had had the chance to test out James' massaging abilities. What a dick. Why would James go and massage Dale and not one of his closer friends? If Peter suddenly learned he was great at massages, James would've been one of the first people he tried it on.

"Why you?" Peter asked. Dale grinned.

"He wanted it to be special."

"It could've been special with me."

"I feel sick," Remus said faintly. "People need to start clarifying what the fuck they're talking about. This is the second time tonight."

"Oh, it was great. Fast and hard. I'll invite you next time, Peter," Dale said earnestly. Cathy covered her mouth with her hands. Peter's face felt fuzzy. He rubbed his cheek. Maybe he ought to have shaved.

"I want to go to bed," he decided, yawning.

"I'll take you. We can meet up with him now. I don't want you to feel too left out," Dale said.

"Someone put something in my drink at dinner," Remus said. Peter blinked slowly.

"I'm tired and James is a dick," he said.

"James?" Remus coughed.

"Yes, James," Dale said, face completely neutral. Cathy folded in half, body trembling. Peter pushed himself off the ground. His legs wobbled beneath him like fat slugs.

"I'm going to puke," Remus said suddenly, standing too. Peter grabbed his arm. Dale's eyes widened.

"How much did you guys drink tonight?" he asked. His voice sounded...weird. Peter shook his head.

"I dunno," he said, closing his fist loosely around an imaginary bottle. The exact number was coated in slime or spiderwebs or...something. Whatever it was, he couldn't reach it.

"Oh, let me guess. If we had more than two drinks, the weed you gave us will incinerate our insides and we'll end up spending our last moments writhing in pain in the Hospital Wing while Professor McGonagall shouts at us," Remus said. Dale grimaced. Remus paled. "No, no, that was a joke, it was a joke because of just how ludicrous that would be! Don't tell -"

"It won't kill you," Dale said. "Just - erm - make you a bit sick. It's strong shit."

"You could have told us that before you offered." Peter's chest ached, and his jelly legs hurt, and the dormitory was so far away, and he'd eaten too much at the feast, and this was a shit idea in the first place, he was never drinking, never smoking ever again. Never ever.

"I was being nice. I gave you top quality shit for free."

"I wouldn't say it's top quality if it makes you sick. In my opinion."

"Don't be an arse, we're all having a good time."

"I feel like I'm going to be sick, Peter looks dead -"

"Do I?" Peter said, putting his hand on his forehead. He did feel a bit warm.

"-and you're hiding in the corner getting high with your little sister. I'm not sure that would rate as a good time, for me personally." Remus moved his arm, and Peter clung tighter.

"Fuck off then."

"That is the idea. Come on, Peter."

Peter stumbled out through the curtains, fingers wrapped around Remus' wrist. Outside, the party still raged on. The Hobgoblins roared into his ears, a couple snogged furiously on the floor by the fire, and pumpkins spun through the air, singing songs from the Frog Choir's earlier performance. Someone bumped into him, wrapped tightly in toilet paper. Peter reached out to touch him. It felt quite rough. That's shit toilet paper, he thought, and then laughed to himself.

"Don't grope the mummy," Remus ordered.

"Who's fondling mothers?" Sirius appeared out of nowhere. Huh. Maybe he could apparate. Peter would ask him about that...later.

"We're going back to the dorm," Remus said.

"No shit. You look fucked."

"Pot and kettle." Remus paused. Peter looked up groggily. It felt like when he'd been little and his mum ran into someone she knew in Diagon Alley. Hell. Worse than the Cruciatus Curse, probably. Accordingly, he pulled on Remus' arm. Remus ignored him. "Wait, did you -?"

"Do gentlemen tell?" Peter looked up at the sky and groaned. His stomach gurgled.

"Can we go already?" Sirius and Remus kept looking at each other. It lasted months. Years. He felt his skin wrinkle and wither up. Spots danced in his eyes.

"We'll get James first. We can't let him have too much fun if we aren't," Sirius said cheerfully.

Time slipped away in sips, and though Mary was marching at a turtle's pace, she did eventually finish the bottle. Her first Kiss (though not her first kiss) was finished. It all seemed a bit less overwhelming; the music had faded, and her eyes adjusted to the loud colours. Maybe it was just the Kiss softening the world for her. She laced her fingers through the cream blanket covering her fingers. Wool caught on her fingernails. She smooshed her nose against the fabric of the chair.

The drunkenness that was promised hadn't arrived, and the party wasn't what she'd expected either. Mary'd had visions of dancing on tables and James Potter tearing someone's clothes off in the middle of the crowd and someone riding a broomstick upside-down, which seemed to be what all the party stories she heard consisted of. As of yet, nobody had taken off their kit, the tables were still too full with food to allow dancing, and there wasn't a broomstick in sight (there were, however, quaffles, and she'd resolved to find one of her dormmates and leave should a bludger appear).

Mary regarded the empty bottle, and then scanned the room for a bin. Except now it seemed less of a room and more of a...hall? Whatever it was, it seemed disproportionately larger than it had been when she first arrived. Hmm. Weird. She pushed the blanket off, patted it into a bundle, and set off in search of somewhere to discard her rubbish. The crowd wasn't so thick, and she found her way to the tables much easier than before. Her toe nudged a small bin beneath the table, and she dropped the bottle into it. Nothing clanged. She frowned. There was a bin, wasn't there? She lifted the hem of the tablecloth and peeked underneath. Definitely a bin - however, there was no lining, and it wasn't half as big as she would've thought necessary for a party of this size. She bent over as far as she could, sticking her head and neck entirely under the table. It was pleasantly odorless. Mary looked into the depths of the bin. There was no sign of her bottle, or indeed any others. It must be one of those fancy charms, she realised suddenly. Wow. Who'd set it up? Maybe Remus. He seemed like the only one clever enough to pull it off.

She straightened up, narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the table. She found herself swaying her head to the beat of the song, blonde curls flopping from side to side. Her thighs didn't touch as she moved, and that made her heart leap. As the song sped up, she shook her head faster. Her eyes still scanned the room, checking that nobody's eyes were on her. None of the clusters turned to face her.

The Fizzing Whizbees song came to an end, and Mary reoriented herself, a hand to her temple. Another fast song followed, and she spun around like a little kid. Something brushed her back. Her heart stopped. She turned, stumbling, and hit her chin on Marlene's shoulder.

"Oh!" Mary said. Her legs felt heavy. She clutched Marlene's bicep.

"Do shots with me," Marlene said. Mary shook her head slowly, swaying her hips to the beat.

"I don't want to. Come dance with me."

"Shots first." Smudged mascara clung to her undereyes, and hair stuck to her forehead. Mary pursed her lips. The Kiss hadn't really been that bad. She didn't feel drunk. And Marlene looked...not good. Badly not good. It wouldn't be fair to say no.

"Okay," Mary shrugged. Marlene squeezed her tightly, and then dragged her over to a group of seventh years. She only recognised a few of them. She and Marlene were definitely the shortest.

"One each?" Connor O'Neill said cheerily. Wait. Hang on. Connor's stuff...she wasn't meant to…

"One for her, and one for each hand for me," Marlene said. Connor nodded and poured a cloudy silver liquid into small cups a girl was holding. Mary took one. It reeked like rat spleens. Nausea rose in her stomach. She glanced around. All the tall, slim seventh year girls were smiling, eyes alight. How many calories are in this? She wondered.

"When I say snitch," Connor said.

"You just said it," someone pointed out.

"That didn't count. Ready? Bludger, quaffle, snitch!" Mary put the cup to her lips and tilted. She shuddered. It burned her tastebuds. Her cheeks bulged. Oh my god. This is foul! What is this? She clapped her hand over her mouth and gagged. Spluttering, she swallowed half of it. Her insides were on fire. Ow. Ow. Ow. My God! She gagged again, and then it went down. She clutched her stomach. Her eyes watered. She leaned against Marlene, and shut her eyes. She panted.

"What the fuck, Connor?" a girl demanded.

"Mate. Mate. Did you even taste-test that?" a Ravenclaw boy said.

"Don't be pussies. It's strong as shit," Connor retorted. Mary dabbed at her eyes furiously. She'd dropped the cup.

"Oh my god," she gasped. That was not like the Kiss. Not one bit. Never again. Never again.

"That was great," Marlene said. "Who's for round two?" Noises of disgust answered her, and Mary added her own. Her throat was raw.

"I'll take you up," Connor grinned, and poured two more. There was no countdown; they clinked their plastic cups and drank. Marlene's face contorted and she trembled. Mary wrapped an arm around her waist. "Another?" Connor asked, wiping his mouth.

"Um," Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Marlene. Marly. Why don't we go find Lily? It's late." Marlene squinted at her, and then reached out and pinched her cheek. Mary's burning stomach clenched. Stupid stupid fat cheeks. Stupid. I look like a squirrel.

"Sorry Mary. Forgot," she said. "Connor, Cons...Mary here doesn't do this much. I gotta take her back to the dorm."

"Alright, your funeral. Come see me if you want to get a bottle of this, right? Your friend Evans is trying to shut me down, hurting business. Off you go." Mary sighed. Marlene made promises of getting enough bottles to drown the Giant Squid, and then they hobbled away from Connor, like three-legged-race contestants.

Mary spotted Lily, still playing pong. While the crowd had lessened, it was still fairly thick. Thicker than she'd thought. Mary stopped dead, wide-eyed. Marlene pulled on her sleeves.

"I see her," Marlene sung. Mary swallowed. Connor's concoction had sunk into the very essence her spit. How was she going to push through the crowd? What if she didn't get Lily's attention straight away? What if the ball hit her in the head? What if James tried to talk to her? What if -

"LILY! C'mere, we're going, Mary's done!" Lily parried the ball, and then turned her head, red hair swinging.

"Okay!" she said, beaming. "Hang on!" She closed her fist around the bal when it returned, and then dropped it on the table.

"That's a seeker's catch," James Potter guffawed.

"Okay," Lily shrugged. "I'm out. Friend duties. Bye, Glen." She gave him a sort-of hug and ducked away.

Suddenly, she was on Marlene's other side, shoving her head under Marly's arm. "What the hell happened? You smell like...no. Marlene!"

"He's nice," Marlene said. "It was...strong."

"Not O'Neill. Not Connor O'Neill. Really? You didn't make out with him, did you?"

"Not him," Marlene said. The three of them started off vaguely towards the door. Lily didn't say anything for a moment.

"Oh," she said. "Right. Did you -?"

"Almost."

"How do you feel?"

"Bad before. Good now."

"Worse tomorrow," Lily said. Mary shook her head. How did they do that? She scrunched up her face, trying to piece it together. They said goodbye to a handful of people, dodged someone puking, and Marlene leaned her head on top of Mary's. Alisha caught them just before they left, and joined their party, wrapping her arm around Mary's shoulders. Her cheeks were pink, and her hair had fallen down. They crossed the threshold, Lily forcefully rejecting someone's offer of a drink, and stepped into the corridor. The music leaked out for a minute, and a suit of armour soaked in the multicoloured lights. The door slammed shut. They were cast into darkness.

"Lumos," Lily whispered, and the light at the end of her wand flared. She said something else, and it dimmed slightly. "Come on, now. There's a shortcut along here somewhere."

James wiped his brow, and took the proffered drink. "Cheers, mate," he said, popping the cap off easily. Refreshing. Billy took his spot in pong, and Dirk Creswell took Glen Vane's. Lisbete's fingers squeezed his'. "D'you want some?" he asked.

"Yes please," she beamed. He bought the bottle to her lips and tipped it. She gulped. "Oh, that's so..well, it doesn't taste like what I usually drink." James laughed.

"It's beer," he told her. She giggled, and squeezed his hand. He grinned. Evans never looked at him like that. Because she hates my guts. Or, he thought, because she's a stuck-up prefect who hangs around Slytherins.

"You played really well," she said. "You could totally be a beater if you liked." He shushed her overdramatically.

"Don't talk so loud, we can't let Ludo know I'm after his job," he whispered in her ear. She giggled loudly, more than he reckoned he deserved, but hey - maybe he was just that funny. His friends would never let on if he was. Warmth tickled his chest, and he kissed her. Someone nearby went, 'ooooh!'. He smiled. Here he was, kissing a girl who laughed at his jokes at an awesome party he'd organised while everyone had a good time. This must be what Felix Felicis feels like. He didn't even need a lucky potion. How swell was that?

He pulled out of the kiss, and she cupped his cheek. "Oh, shit! I love this song - we should dance!" he said. Girls like dancing, didn't they?

"Oh, let's!" Yep, they did. Nailed it. He put his beer down on the floor - he could get another later - and pulled her closer. With a grunt, he lifted her off the ground, and carried her over to the dancefloor. She gripped his shoulders tightly, although she was only a few inches off the ground. Whatever, still counted. Training had paid off. And when they won, there'd be another party, tomorrow night. Fucking awesome. James decided he loved Halloween.

"Let's go!" he shouted over the blaring radio, putting her down. She laughed again, her whole face lighting up, her eyes scrunching. He twirled her around, and Lisbete threw her head back. James jumped up and down to the beat, slamming into the floor with both feet. He shut his eyes, throwing his body forwards and back.

"SCREW YOU, YOU STOLE MY BROOM!" He jumped up. "SCREW YOU, YOU DESTROYED MY ROOM!" Grabbed Lisbete's hands and moved towards her. "SCREW YOU, YOU BROKE MY QUILL!" Ducked under the knot of their hands and twisted around. "SCREW YOU, YOU USELESS DILL!" She twisted too. "SCREW YOU, YOU STOLE MY SCREWING PAAARRRRCH-MENT!" There was something to be said about radio-edited songs. He came up with a wonderfully witty bit of commentary on the nature of swearing in music and opened his eyes to tell Lisbete.

Instead, Sirius was the one holding his hands. Lisbete stood to the side, pouting, arms folded across her chest.

"What the fuck?" James said, abruptly letting go. Sirius glared at him.

"Come on. We're going."

"Now?" James asked. "It's our party. One of us needs to be here."

"Now," Sirius confirmed. "Wormy and Remus are over in the corner puking on the floor, and then Remus keeps having to clean it up, and there's going to be some Unforgivables cast if we don't get them out of there. We can come clean up in the morning." James glanced vaguely in the direction Sirius indicated. Peter was on all-fours, and Remus had one hand against the wall, doubled over. So there was them...or there was Lisbete. Who looked really quite pretty tonight. And kissed him in front of people. And thought he was funny. He ran his fingers through his hair. Fucksakes.

"Give me a second, hold on," he said, and stepped to the side. Sirius rolled his eyes and turned around, back facing them. Lisbete looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Are you going to leave already?" she asked. James grimaced.

"I've got vomit duty. Trust me, I'd rather be here with you. But they're my mates, I can't let them puke in the corner on their own all night."

"What do I do, then?" Lisbete asked. Merlin, James thought. You can come up with something, can't you?

"Er - why don't you go hang with your mates?" James suggested.

"I don't even know where Cathy is," Lisbete said. Her face had fallen. "SCREW YOU, YOU BROKE MY QUILL!" shouted Robbie Gardener over the radio. Sirius whirled around.

"In the back corner with her brother. Follow the red eyes," he said. "Remus just got on his hands and knees too. It's dire."

"Alright," James said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lisbete. Before the game. You're going, yeah?"

"Of course," she said, looking offended.

"Right. Bye, then." They hesitated for a moment. She sighed, and stood on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. He smiled. She wasn't too pissed off, then.

"Bye," she said. Sirius grabbed his arm.

"Wand at the ready, mate. It's gonna be a big one."

Lily stroked Marlene's hair. "Are you sure?" she asked. By some miracle, she'd got Marlene, Mary, and Alisha into bed (not their own, but that hardly mattered. Mary had started saying she was cold, so Lily had popped her in Marlene's bed, and then Alisha didn't want to be left out. It was lucky the beds were so big). Mary's arm draped across Marlene, and Alisha's feet stuck out the bottom of the blanket.

Marlene nodded. "Mmhmm. I had it when we came through the hole." Lily sighed, and patted her shoulder.

"Alright. I'll be back. Stay in bed." She stood up, and brushed herself off. She was still in her uniform, despite it being some ungodly hour of the morning. Her hair was knotted and her perfume had long since worn off. Marlene rolled onto her stomach, claiming the space Lily had occupied.

Lily slipped out the door quietly and headed down the stairs to the common room. Weak flames crackled in the fireplace, not quite enough to light the room. "Lumos," she whispered, and the tip of her wand flared. Something moved on the couch. She froze. It kept moving, and then a familiar face peered over the edge.

"It's just Lily," Marcus McLaggen said to someone. "Lily Evans. She's one of the fifth year prefects. You've seen her around, haven't you?"

"Hello," Lily said uncertainly, taking a step towards the couch.

"Hello," Marcus said. His tousled sandy hair caught the firelight. "I'm just here with Matt. He wasn't sleeping well." Lily nodded. 'Homesick,' Marcus mouthed.

"Oh, that's a shame," she said. "I'm just looking for my friend's earring. Her name's Marlene. Have you made many friends, Matt?" She shone her wandlight on the ground, looking for a glint of gold.

"Um. There's the boys in my dorm, I guess," Matt said quietly, his little head popping up over the side of the couch. His eyes shifted.

"It's always good to get along with them," Marcus said. Matt made a noncommittal noise.

"Yeah, a lot of my friends are from my dorm. But I have friends that aren't even in Gryffindor, too. Or my year. You don't have to be best friends with people just because they sleep near you," Lily advised, taking another step.

"Okay," Matt said. Lily rolled her wand between her fingers.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters at Hogwarts?" she asked.

"No, just me. None of my family's really - magic or anything." Lily knew how that felt. For all Petunia had wanted to come, begged to come, she couldn't. Lily had only known Sev when she stepped on the Hogwarts Express, and that had at least given her a foothold in the magical world. Mary hadn't known anyone, or anything about magic, and Lily had met her hiding in the lavatories on the train with her robes on back-to-front.

"I don't either," Lily said. "My sister's a muggle. And she's too old for Hogwarts, now, anyways." Matt laid back down on the couch silently. Marcus looked between him and Lily.

"Ah, erm - why don't we help you look for that earring, Lily? Matt, do you want to help?" He caught Lily's eye.

"You don't have to, but I'd really appreciate it, Matt," she said loudly. She heard the couch squeak. Marcus stood, adjusting his flannelette pyjamas, and pulled his wand out from his top pocket. The end of his wand lit up.

"That was nonverbal, wasn't it?" Lily asked, raising a brow.

"Yes. We've started learning about them in most subjects. I did some study over the summer, so it's been easier to get a grasp on than you might expect," he said.

"I don't know if I would want to spend the summer studying after I finish my O. ," Lily admitted.

"What colour's the earring?" She glanced over at Matt, who had perched on the armrest, feet dangling.

"Gold," she told him. "A big hoop."

"Alright," he said, and bit his lip. "My wand's back in my room."

"That's okay. We can shine the lights and you can look for us."" Marcus said. Matt nodded uneasily, and slid off the chair. Lily smiled warmly at him.

"I take it the earring fell off returning from the party?" Marcus asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, she's spent," Lily laughed softly, walking to the other side of the rug. She scanned the floor, and started; but no, it was just a sweet wrapper. She nudged it aside with her foot, frowning. "I didn't see you there."

"I don't do parties. I've no desire to watch my classmates drink to excess and then puke on their own shoes. Especially when they aren't even of age yet. Besides, someone needed to stay here. All the prefects barring me found it unsettlingly easy to abandon their duties to their house to get drunk," Marcus sniffed.

"I didn't drink a drop," Lily informed him, raising her brows. He looked sideways at her.

"Right. Sorry, I -"

"It's fine," she said. "Matt, can you see anything?"

"Mmm, not yet," he said.

God, she thought, where the hell has this earring got to? She briefly considered telling Marlene in the morning that she'd lost the earring at the party; she probably wouldn't remember. That was kind of a dick move, though. At least Matt seemed to enjoy being useful. He got on the floor and looked under all the armchairs. Lily yawned, and hit her hand against her lips as she did so, making an odd sound.

The portrait hole creaked open, and Lily stopped, looking up. Four shapes stumbled through the hole, and the shortest fell to the ground, retching. She made a face. They came into the light, and she could scarcely refrain from rolling her eyes.

"Potter, Black, Lupin - Pettigrew? You're back late," Marcus said. Peter looked up from the ground.

"I've been impaled," he groaned.

"Not bloody yet you haven't," Black muttered.

"I'm not fucking about, something's stabbed my hand," Peter said.

"Language," Marcus barked. Matt froze, looking at them. Remus leaned heavily on Potter, looking sicker than usual, which was saying something. Sirius rubbed his eye with the base of his palm.

"Righto, Pete, you've been impaled. Can you pull it out?" James asked. No sign of the little blonde with him, Lily noted. Maybe she'd come to her senses and fled. Peter groaned again, and lifted his hand shakily. Matt gasped.

"It's the earring!" he cried, pointing at it. Lily blinked.

"Is it? It is! Well spotted!" She moved towards Peter and plucked it out of his hand, examining it. The back was missing, but that was definitely the earring. She crouched down and shone her wand over the spot where Peter had fell. "Aha!" she scooped up the back with her fingernail.

"I'm bleeding," Peter said. Lily shone her wand at his face, which was positively green. She stood up quickly.

"We'll deal with him," Potter said authoritatively. Lily nodded, and then looked between Peter and Remus. Out of the four boys, they weren't the ones she would've picked to be this sick at the end of the night. She crossed her arms.

"Pushed them a bit hard, did you?" she asked.

"No," Remus butted in. "Dale's just a…" he eyed Matt. "...Rude word."

"Huh." No surprises. Dale was the Connor O'Neill of things you could smoke, rather than drink. But that meant...she pushed the thought aside.

"Night, Lily," Potter said, leaning down to add Peter to their arm-linked gang.

"Evans," she corrected, but not too harshly. "Night, you lot." They hobbled past her, Marcus, and Matt, heading for the stairs.

"Was there a party or something on tonight?" Matt asked when they'd gone. Lily smiled mysteriously at him. His eyes widened. "I didn't know you could have parties at Hogwarts!" he said.

"You can't," Marcus said.

"Not at this time of night," Lily amended. Matt grinned.

"So I can have a birthday party," he said, more to himself than anything.

"Yeah," Lily said, tilting her head to one side. "Is that what you've been worried about?" He looked at the ground, and then nodded.

"My birthday's next week. I usually spend it with my family and my friends from school and my nan. I've never really...you know. Been away from them. And I... I don't know who to invite...or how to get cake or anything."

"And you've been up all night stressing about it?" Marcus asked skeptically. Matt looked up at him, and stuck his chin out.

"It's my twelfth birthday. I only turn twelve once. It's my last birthday before I'm a teenager, too," he said.

"I think twelve's a very big milestone," Lily agreed mischievously. Marcus sighed.

"Alright then. Off to bed, now, and you can find Lily if you need any help with your party planning," Marcus said sternly. Matt nodded.

"Okay. Night." Lily and Marcus bid him goodnight, and he went up the boys' stairs.

Lily and Marcus were left alone in the shifting, dying orange glow of the flames, Marcus in his pyjamas, and Lily still in her school uniform.

"Nox," he said, and his wand light died. Lily did the same, and returned her wand to her pocket. Marcus straightened his pyjama top. They both started to speak at once, and then halted. Silence. Lily spoke.

"It was a good idea to have a prefect here tonight," she admitted. "And it was nice of you to help Matt. How did you even come across him?"

"I knew I was the only one here, so I told them all to come knock on my dormitory door if they needed me. He knocked. I was revising, anyhow, so he didn't wake me," Marcus said. Lily nodded.

"Right." More silence. Marcus coughed.

"Did you see my sister there?" he asked, looking suspicious. Lily hesitated. Livia hadn't been doing anything wrong, really - at least, more wrong than anyone else there. She wasn't going to dob for the sake of dobbing. But then again, if Marcus was just asking as a concerned brother...she understood that. She worried about Petunia, even though Petunia was older. It couldn't be helped.

"I didn't really look," she said finally. "There were some fourth years there. They mainly just danced from what I could see."

"Okay. Thanks, Lily."

"It's alright." More silence. "I should go take this earring back. And get changed and everything. I've been non-stop since this morning."

"Yesterday morning," he said, smiling slightly. "It's nearly three." She laughed, and shook her head.

"Definitely time for bed, then," she said. "Goodnight, Marcus. Thanks for helping me look."

"Thanks for helping with Matt," he said. "Goodnight, Lily. Sleep well."

---

A/N: I'm so so sorry for how long this chapter has taken! I got so much writer's block, and kept writing and cutting out scenes, and rewriting scenes. It was a nightmare keeping track of so many characters and what they're doing all at once! I struggled a bit with the pacing so I hoped it turned out okay. We also got some plot in there, so hurray! I banged out the last 2.5k words tonight and then edited, but hopefully it's all up to scratch. Hope the length makes up for such a long delay! Now that this is over with, the other chapters should be much more timely. ~ Finn