James and Lily's rushed wartime soulmates wedding plans were coming together quickly. It would be a small ceremony at the Potters' manor house. Dumbledore would officiate. The Order of the Phoenix would be the guests. Marlene would stand up with Lily, the lads with James, and Lily's Muggle parents would get pictures when everything was finished. She was eighteen, didn't need their permission, but had decided not to risk telling them anyway.

A few days before the wedding, the lads were called upon to go to the Potters' manor to settle their wedding clothes. Their attire was nearly identical, dark and formal. Serious black, they were calling it, trimmed with elaborate old-fashioned white neckties that looped and knotted in spectacularly intricate ways around their collars and down their fronts.

Dressing alike played up how different they all looked. Peter, short and stocky, his eyes darting, as if hopelessly distracted by the fancy details of the new clothes. Remus was tall and rather stately in his, so very thin, the white of his shirt playing up the lingering redness of the scars on his face. Sirius was lean and strong with long, dark waves of hair falling over his high collar. And James, out of a school uniform, dressed in something other than a quidditch team T-shirt, in his glasses, his hair arranged more smoothly than usual, he looked older, like he might be able to pose as someone's husband.

James's father, Monty Potter, had been sent into the drawing room to oversee the fitting. It was a purely honorary role, with two tailors who'd come from town showing the lads how to dress properly, and altering everything to fit perfectly. In practical terms, Monty had no greater role than giving the lads permission to open a few bottles from the liquor collection before dozing off over his brandy.

"There's no one better to dress than young people," the tailor wizard called Renz said. "Schoolboys, you're all so perfect." He batted Peter's hands. "Even this twitchy little one who won't keep his paws down. Perfect."

"Yes, will you look at these lines," Renz's co-tailor Toby said, pinching the fabric falling from Remus's shoulders. "This one is so grandly tall, and the angles on him. He's a perfect mannequin."

"He is?" Sirius said.

"Oh, don't be jealous," Renz said, poking Sirius's shoulder with the tip of his wand. "You're still the pretty one. Yes, flip that hair again."

Sirius happily obliged.

Renz had turned back to James, tugging hard at his sleeve. "For stars' sake, someone get our groom another drink. He's so stiff I can hardly mark him up."

James rolled his shoulders and shook out his fingers. "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry. Poor lamb, off to be married already. Who wouldn't have nerves. How old are you, anyway?" Toby said, filling a little glass not meant to be filled so high.

"It's legal," was all James said, stiffening again.

Toby rolled his eyes so hard his voice sounded in an almost feline growl.

James had taken the glass from him and raised it to his face when the alcohol vapor hit him, burning his nose like a potions class accident. "Whoa. No, not for me," James said. "I've got double Arithmancy with Lily first thing in the morning. Need to stay sharp."

Toby groaned again. "Arithmancy, oh yes, practical skills." With a spin and a slight slosh of the drink, he was facing the rest of the room. "Well someone's got to drink this, now it's poured. Not me, I'm on the clock, sadly," he said, licking the spilled liquor from his fingers. "Oh my. Yes, it'd be a crime to waste good stuff like this. What is it, Mr. Potter, three or four hundred years old? Aged in hollowed out Leviathan horns? Must have cost a fortune, eh Mr. Potter?"

Monty snored and settled deeper into his armchair.

"Give it to slim, there," Renz said, nodding at Remus. "He's grown enough to be able to hold it."

Toby passed the glass to Remus who eyed it warily. From across the room, Sirius gave him a thumbs-up signal. So he shrugged and he swallowed it down before realizing how badly it would burn. Toby beat him on the back as he hacked and broke into a sweat.

The lads had drunk enough to have to go back to school through the Floo instead of risking apparating under the influence. Sirius and James arrived in the empty Entrance Hall red in the face and loud. Peter was beyond that, extremely silly, chattering and threatening to transform and go on a skittering rat rampage all over the school. Sirius and James were shouting him down, making much more noise than he had been. They wound up having to hold him by the arms, forcibly leading him to the stairs.

They had thought Remus was following, but, thanks to the Leviathan horn whiskey, he was drunker than they knew. Smashed or not, he was quiet and happy, but finding his long legs and arms impossibly complicated and hard to manage. As he came to the bottom of the marble staircase, he wasn't sure how to get his limbs to climb it. He stood clinging to the cold, smooth bannister, staring rather longingly up toward where he could go to sleep.

This was what he was doing when Severus Snape and Narcissa Black found him. They were coming back to the Slytherin dungeons late after a night in the library, not expecting to see anyone - certainly not seventh year's most upstanding prefect.

"Well, well," Snape sneered. "It's Lupin, legless, and roving about down here at the stroke of curfew."

Narcissa clucked her tongue. "By the stars, Lupin. What are you thinking? It's a school night."

At the sound of her voice, he gasped, like a stage actor hamming an aside. "It's her," he said out loud as he pushed himself against the bannister to stand a little straighter.

Snape's features twisted into a greedy smirk. "Yes, stay here with her while I fetch Professor Slughorn to help you upstairs," Snape said, swooping away.

Narcissa heaved a mighty sigh and took Remus's arm, tugging. "Come on, you. We've got to get you out of here before Snape gets back with a teacher and you lose your prefect status."

He let her pull his arm until it was fully extended, but his feet stayed rooted to the bottom step. His eyes followed the length of his sleeve. "Look at that angle. The perfect mannequin."

"Honestly, Lupin," she scolded, ignoring his words, stepping under his arm, draping it over her shoulders, and wrapping her arms around his torso. Tugged him upward, hoping to trigger his stair climbing muscle memory. "Come on. Slughorn will be slow, but Snape will make sure he comes for you in the end."

Remus bent his neck to stare down to where she appeared to him to be tangled in his body, curious. His face bowed against the top of her head, inhaling deeply, making no attempt at hiding how much he enjoyed her smell. "Mm, she's here with me."

"Yes, but I'm going to give up and leave if you don't come upstairs with me right now," she said, shaking her head to dislodge his face from her hair.

He grumbled but he also began to lift his feet.

"There we go," she cheered, patting his stomach as they went. "There's a good boy. Stars, Lupin. What've you got into tonight. Where were you?"

"Potters'" he said. "Fitting. Getting clothes for James's wedding."

"James's wedding?" she said. "What - "

Remus had taken her face in both hands, hushing her. "Don't speak of it. You don't know. No one can know. This is a secret soulmates' wedding. Shh..."

They had reached the top of the first flight of stairs before he'd taken hold of her face. They stood there now, his eyes hooded but focused on her. He was speaking. "Narcissa Black. Does it truly calm you down, when I touch you? That's what you said, after the Bowtruckle, in the forest." His hands repositioned themselves on her face, pushing her hair back, cradling her cheeks, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth slipped open, her breath catching, not calming down in the least. "What are you on about?" she managed to say. She meant to sound sharp, annoyed at this drunken candor. But her voice was small and too full of breath.

His face was close, his expression sweet and silly, a little sad. His hands on her face were clumsy but tender, and the light stroking of his fingers against her skin was running ahead of them, revealing what neither of them had ever said to each other.

Still holding his torso, she cleared her throat and shook her head out of his hands. "Now's not the time to talk about any of that," she said, walking him across the corridor to the moving staircase leading to Gryffindor tower.

"Your heartbeat," he was saying as he scuffed over the floor, his attention still fixated solely on her. "Since that day in the forest, I've been able to hear it when you're close, like now. Soft, below everything else."

Her pulse surged as he said it, and maybe it was just a coincidence that as it did, Remus's chest rumbled with laughter. But her answer was a scoff. "That's ridiculous," she said. "Think about it, Lupin. It's not like you're hearing it right now."

His arm crossed in front of himself, his hand finding her shoulder, long fingers pointing down her back, and the heel of his hand over a pulse, high on her chest, almost at her heart itself. He lowered his mouth toward the crown of her head and sang it's rhythm to her.

"Da dum da dum da dum…"

And in her ears, below Remus's voice, she heard the sound of his heart, low and lazy with drunkness.

"How are you doing that?" she said. "I'd expect it from Moony but - "

His head snapped up. "I am Moony. Remus and Moony. Lupin, like you call me. Both. I am always both of them, when there's you."

It was rambling madness, not at all a confession. But it felt like one all the same. Narcissa stood under Remus's arm, his hand on her shoulder, her face turned up to his, shocked, confused.

He himself was distracted, deliberately stubbing the toe of his shoe against the step where they stood waiting. "Why aren't the stairs moving?"

She shook herself. "Oh, that must be me. Maybe they don't let Slytherins up after curfew."

Remus fumbled in his cloak for his wand.

"Lupin, no. No wands when you're - "

But he was already waving it at the stairs. "Let the girl up-io," he called.

She laughed, but to her surprise, it worked. The stone was shifting, grating its way toward the tower entrance. Stupid Gryffindor spells.

At the sound of her laughter, Remus watched her, struck by her real, not smug, not sly smile in the torchlight. The low nighttime lights lit her usually white skin with a golden glow, her eyes made dark and sparkling. Her hands were on him, the contours of her body pressed into his side, tucked under his arm, warm and soft, as if she was loveable, even for him.

But it wasn't true - not true enough. It was a cruel thought, and it changed everything - his posture, his expression, his voice as he groaned, as if suffering, and closed both his arms around her, turning her from being at his side to his front, standing face to face. He reeked of expensive liquor but she was turning her face up to his all the same.

He gathered her closer, crushing her in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder, as if he couldn't bear to look at her. "It's not right," he said, in a sad, aching voice. "You can't be his, when I'm yours."

She turned her face out of the fabric of his cloak to where her breath warmed the flesh of his neck. She wanted her mouth on him, and not her fanged Veela mouth on his werewolf pelt. She wanted him as he was, as she was at this moment. She wanted her lips on his neck, his face and mouth, both of them abandoning everything in a kiss that would tear up their hearts. In this state, he wouldn't hesitate, wouldn't stop to think. He was so close, so sad, so - so hers.

But her eyes clenched shut. No, he was drunk. She couldn't - no matter how tortured and sweet he was, even if Malfoy never existed, she couldn't come to Lupin when he was like this.

There was no answer she could make, nothing to do but hold tight to him, her hands flat and open, caressing his lean back as he swayed on the moving steps, his voice miserable, echoing her heartbeat over her ear.

There was a thud and grind as the stairs locked into place. Remus's grip slackened and she stood out of his way, beside him, bracing him for the rest of the climb. As they reached the top of the stairs, a portrait was swinging open and ruddy-faced James and Sirius was clambering out, shouting with relief when they saw Remus nearly there.

"Quickly," Narcissa said as she piled his limp, lanky arms onto Sirius. "Get him in. Snape and Slughorn should be right behind us."

When Narcissa returned to the Slytherin dungeon, Severus Snape, frustrated that Professor Slughorn had refused to go with him to apprehend Lupin, sat fuming over the last impossible problem in his Divination homework. Coming into the class late in the year had been a mistake and a waste. He was getting nowhere trying to convince Lily to join the Dark Lord's movement, and the homework was fuzzy and imprecise. He crumpled another parchment and Vanished it from his desk.

"You need to get Evans to help you with that," Narcissa said, shrugging off her robe and veering toward the corridor to her room. "Goodnight, Sev."

But Snape was still angry, vaulting to his feet. "Back, are you? So he's got clean away?"

She shrugged. "So it seems. Now there's no use working yourself up needlessly with that Divination problem. Get Evans."

"Not available. She's moving into new private Head Girl quarters tonight," he said, stacking the pages of his key to tasseography.

Narcissa hummed. "Head Girl quarters, is it? I guess Head Boy Potter won't be jealous, since they might be roommates very soon."

Severus cringed. "Not while they're at school, they won't be. That should give her enough time to snap out of this ridiculous infatuation."

She shrugged as she turned to leave. "I'm sure you're right."

Severus set his quill on the desk. "Wait. You know something. Lupin's told you something."

"Honestly, Severus - "

"Tell me, Narcissa. You owe me that much, since you not only let Lupin get away from me, but helped him on his way."

"What an accusation."

"You're warming up to him," he said, stepping toward her, menacing. "That werewolf. That cursed, filthy, murderous monster, worse than a Mudblood."

"That's enough," she said.

Severus pinched his hair into place. "Lupin has told you something about Lily's future. Something he knows from Potter."

"Stop it."

"He has, and you feel tenderly enough toward him to be protecting him now. It's sickening. And if you don't tell me what they're hiding, this minute, I will have no choice but to contact Lucius Malfoy and have him ask you what that werewolf said to you as you put him to bed."

She shouted a laugh. "Why would Lucius or your Dark Lord or anyone but you give a care about rooting out the secrets of Lily Evans's lovelife?"

Severus loomed closer, his tone low and dangerous. "In his wisdom, the Dark Lord has made this couple his concern. Therefore, they become all of our concern. You don't think I started this blasted Divination class as a final bid to realize a childhood crush, did you? No, I did it in the service of our Lord."

As he spoke, his eyes searched for hers. The air took on a dark, acidic tang.

"Don't you dare," she said, pivoting out of his view. "Don't you dare try to turn your pathetic Legilimency on me, a daughter of the House of Black, you ungrateful, perverse - "

"Fine," he said, dropping his eyes. "But you must tell me what you learned from Lupin, or you WILL tell Lucius what you were doing with him, hiding from me. I'm sure Lucius will be most understanding - "

"They're getting married," she blurted. "Soon. Lupin had just come from being fitted for wedding clothes when we found him."

"Wedding?" Severus nearly spat. "How soon?"

"I don't know. But if Evans is getting her own quarters - her married quarters - inside the castle, I can't imagine it will be much longer." Narcissa folded her cloak decisively over her forearm. "Now, that is all I know. And if you'll promise to leave Lucius alone, I'll be going to bed."

She left him, standing in the common room alone, glaring out at the black water.

While James Potter married Lily Evans at his family estate in the presence of their closest friends and family, Narcissa Black sat in the Hogwarts library, terribly bored. The afternoon was dragging on painfully slowly. She hadn't seen Severus all day, and had no idea what kind of trouble he might be up to. She had been watching for Remus to warn him Snape had wrung the news about Potter getting married out of her, but there'd been no sign of him either. It annoyed her more than she would have cared to say.

Finally, one of the intra-school message owls came to roost on the back of her chair in the library. It bore a message calling her to the courtyard. She summoned her cloak as she crossed the Entrance Hall and went outside to meet her visitor, already suspecting who it was. She was not wrong.

"Cissa, darling," his voice drawled.

"Lucius," she said, taking the hand her fiance offered her. "What a nice surprise."

"Yes, well, I won't be available tomorrow for Valentine's Day, so I've come a day early." He handed her a small wrapped box.

She'd forgotten about blasted Valentine's Day. What could she give him? There was that book of Centaur love poetry she'd recently picked up. It was brand new. Did Lucius read poetry? Did he read anything but polemics on purity?

"It's not Valentine's Day, exactly, but it is a romantic occasion here at the school after all, isn't it?" he mused. "We got word at the manor that Hogwarts' Head Boy and Girl were married today. Unusual, to be sure. But then, these are unprecedented times we live in. You look surprised at the news, Cissa. I thought you knew already. Severus said it was you who told him about it. Heard it from a Gryffindor friend?"

"Well - well, yes," she said. "I'd only just learned the wedding was coming, but I certainly didn't expect it so soon. It must have been a very private affair. I wonder how Severus found out the details."

Lucius laughed. "Our Severus is not to be underestimated. Do so at your peril," he said, as if joking.

She laughed along, looking away to unwrap the box, diverting his attention from Severus's gossip. Inside was something lovely, as always - a hair clip covered in pearls. "Thank you, darling," she said, holding her breath as he bent to drop a slow, wet kiss on her cheek. "I've got your gift inside. I'll fetch it now."

"If you like," he said. "It's such a fine day for February. I'll wait out here."

As soon as she was out of his sight, she skipped into a run, hoping he wouldn't notice the extra time it took to wrap the book.

She was finished and hopping back up the stairs to the Entrance Hall when the Floo flamed. Sirius had stepped out and stood fluffing his hair, waiting for someone to follow. Narcissa bit her lip and braced herself. Lupin, it had to be him coming next. She hadn't seen him since she'd nearly pressed a mad, hot kiss on his neck after he'd drunkenly told her - he'd said - oh, had he really told her he was hers?

The Floo flashed again. Remus emerged hardly recognizable as himself, wearing perfectly tailored, brand new dress robes. She stopped, looking from him to the doors to the courtyard, then back at him. For all her fancy trimmings, Narcissa's tastes in menswear were simple. She liked long, clean lines. She liked...

"Stars help me," she said as she trotted toward where Remus stood waiting at the Floo. It was flashing again as Peter arrived, and the commotion meant Remus hadn't seen her coming. She announced herself with a hand laid on his arm.

Sirius frowned openly at the sight of her. "Oh, what now?"

"Can I have a word, Lupin?" she said. "In private?"

He stared at her hand on his arm, and without looking her in the face, nodded. "Yeah, alright."

"Stay in sight," Sirius called after them.

"Lupin, it's Severus," she began.

"He knows about the wedding," Lupin finished.

"Why, yes. How did - "

"He sent Lily's parents to the Potters' manor to break it up. No harm done though. But we were wondering how he came to know," He narrowed his eyes, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant. "It wasn't - wasn't me, when I'd been drinking the other night, was it? I remember Snape was there, and so were you. I don't remember telling him, but did I?"

"It wasn't you alone," she said, her head in her hands. "You accidentally told me about the wedding, and then, when Snape realized I knew something, he threatened me and forced me to tell him too."

Lupin bent toward her. "Snape threatened you?" He swore, scanning the Hall.

"Just with gossip," she said. "And a weak attempt at Legilimency. I wasn't harmed at all."

"A weak attempt at Legilimency?" he repeated. "That's something like a weak attempt at rape. Or at least a serious violation of your mental personhood."

"Which I rebuffed easily," she said. "Now stop being so gallant and tall and looking so lovely dressed up and listen to me. I didn't come to you to be rescued. I came to help you with - whatever it is the lot of you are trying to do."

Remus looked like he was listening extremely intently, but all he said was, "You want me to stop looking - looking - what?"

"Listen," she said, shaking his arm. "Severus didn't just go to Lily's family. He went to - to their Dark Lord. If it was supposed to stay a secret from him, it hasn't. You have to let Potter know."

But Remus wasn't listening. He was straightening his posture to its full height and glaring across the Entrance Hall at a beautiful, shining blond man stepping in from the courtyard. Remus tugged his arm out of Narcissa's grip. But she'd already read his face, its complex expression of anger, fear, and sadness, before he spun around, and walked back to the lads without a word.

"Lucius," she said as he reached her, holding the gift of the book in front of herself. "Here it is. Happy Valentine's Day."

He nudged the book out his way with the end of his walking stick and stepped so close to her she had to tip her head to see his face. He felt for her free hand, bending her arm between them and raising her hand to his face. "Thank you, my beloved girl." He kissed her hand, one knuckle at a time, making slow, languid progress, his eyes on hers, as if daring her to try to look away at anything or anyone else.

"You are too sweet, Lucius," she said as he released her hand, breaking their eye contact, backing away.

"I can be," he said. "Until next time, darling." With a smirk and a wave, he left her there, in the Entrance Hall, alone.

She stood for a moment, her hand wiping away Lucius's kiss in the folds of her cloak, her eyes trailing up the staircase Lupin would have climbed to leave her. Perhaps she only imagined the flutter in her back, like wings about to unfurl themselves to fly her up and after him. Her feet were moving instead, following, climbing toward Gryffindor Tower.