Trigger Warning for: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self Harm, Period-Typical Homophobic Language, and a bit of self-hatred.


December 16th, 1975

Marlene pressed her forehead against the table. "I can't do it," she said morosely, shaking her head. "I can't take it. I'll die."

"Come on, Marls," Lily admonished, throwing an arm around her. She pulled a lock of Marlene's hair out of her bowl of porridge. Marlene groaned. Professor McGonagall sat back down beside Professor Dumbledore. She left chaos in her wake. She'd informed the fifth year Gryffindors that their results for their end-of-term assessments would be given out in their next class for each subject. Peter had turned pale and sprinted off to the bathroom, with James and Sirius hot on his heels, garbling out reminders that he had to 'be careful'.

Lily patted Marlene on the back, and ate a bit of toast. At least their marks had nothing to do with their O. . They only went home to parents, and contributed to your predicted O. . It didn't actually make or break anything, which was a relief. She reminded Mary and Marlene of that.

"Exactly," Mary moaned. "My parents will see."

"At least they're muggles," Marlene chipped in. "They don't know how hard any of the subjects are, then."

"Oh, no, they've exchanged letters with Professor McGonagall asking all about it," Mary said. Marlene pulled a face. Lily smiled sympathetically.

"Bad luck," she said. Mary nodded.

They pieced together breakfast from different trays, though more ended up left on their plates than in their stomachs. The boys returned, pale and quiet. The Great Hall began to empty. Lily shot a look at Remus, who studiously inspected his glass of orange juice. She shook her head, and he smiled, but kept quiet.

"Well, we'd best get off to Charms, shouldn't we?" Lily asked the group of them. Dale shrugged, shovelling another mouthful of porridge in. James wiped his glasses on his robes.

"I reckon," James said. It sounded like he still had food in his mouth. Lily wrinkled her nose. Honestly. Everyone else remained silent. She stood, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder.

"Let's go, then. We don't need to be late as well." They nodded and got to their feet with a low rumble. Marlene draped her arm across Lily's shoulders. Sirius then did the same to Peter, who squeaked and squirmed and tried to wriggle away. James and Remus laughed loudly.

The ten of them arrived at Charms just on time, but the Ravenclaws were already seated. Lily exchanged smiles with a few of them, like Glen and Florence. She smiled at Dorcas Meadowes too, on account of her being a prefect, and now one of Florence's best mates, according to everybody. Dorcas looked at her warily. Lily sat on the left side of the classroom with the rest of the Gryffindors, and very purposefully ignored Marlene's impression of Dorcas' sullen look.

"Good morning, good morning," Professor Flitwick squeaked, looking at each of them in turn. "I'm glad to see you all here! I wasn't sure if some of you would be sleeping in, so close to Christmas! But every class is important in O.W.L year." He then took the register. Lupin put his head down on his desk. Lily turned round. Sirius' hands fidgeted in his lap. She frowned. He smiled and raised a finger to his lips. He waved a bit of rolling paper with the other. She glared at thim, and swung back around.

"Lewis?"

"Present, sir!"

"Lupin?" A sleepy moment.

"Yup, here," Remus mumbled.

"Macdonald?"

"Present," Mary said.

Lily nudged Marlene, and glanced up at Sirius. Marlene followed her gaze.

"Aren't you glad you didn't sleep with him?" Lily teased quietly. Marlene elbowed her sharply.

"McKinnon?" Professor Flitwick looked at her sternly. Marlene's eyes widened.

"Sorry. Here sir." Professor Flitwick's quill ticked her off ferociously. Marlene leaned over to Lily. "Obviously I'm here. Who'd miss today?"

"Me," Mary moaned.

"You have changed your tune, Marls," Lily said.

"Well, I can't take not knowing. At least I can prepare an explanation for my dad," Marlene said. "Lily, you have to make a big fuss out of me, okay? I want you tearing your robes, ripping your hair out, leading screaming sessions in the Great Hall. My death needs to do something. To have a point."

"Marlene," Lily said. It was a joke, of course, but with the amount of dead people in the papers lately, it wasn't all that funny.

"D'you think I could get Siobhan on my side? I don't want to have to live with Anna." Marlene shuddered. Lily wanted to say that her dad wouldn't send her to Anna, but she couldn't be sure of that. Anna was Marlene's mother, after all.

"You won't fail," Lily said instead. "Professor Flitwick's nice. If you answered every question, he'll do anything he can to pass you."

"I didn't," Mary said. Alisha silently passed her a chocolate frog. Mary shook her head. "Oh, no thank you, I'm too nervous."

Professor Flitwick was nice enough not to make them wait until the end of the lesson. He clasped his hands together.

"Now, I know you're all very excited to get your results back," he said. "As a cohort, you've done well. And remember: if you aren't happy with your result, there's still six months before your O. begin! And I believe Mr Vane -" Glen raised his hand, smiling, "-will be running a study group in the library for any students who wish to improve!"

"I will be," Glen said, flashing that winning smile. "I'd love for as many students as possible to come along. If we all put our heads together, we'll learn more!" Lily heard Sirius scoff, and could practically feel James rolling his eyes. She shot Glen an encouraging look, though silently, she stewed.

That was the sort of stuff prefects were supposed to do, in addition to their usual duties. Study sessions, and tutoring younger students, and organising fundraisers. The Hufflepuffs usually sold baked goods, or volunteered with Professor Sprout, or cleaned dishes at St. Mungo's over the Easter holidays or something. The Slytherins were great at organising donations, usually to the school from a group of parents, or else put students in touch with university admissions people or got influential figures in from the Ministry to give a rousing speech to those interested in the field. The Ravenclaw study sessions and tutorials were well-known.

What did Gryffindor do? Someone in one of Marlene's siblings' years had tried to organise an obstacle course with a sickle's entrance fee to raise money, but it was shut down when they had the bright idea of charging the Slytherins triple, hexing them disproportionately, and donating the money to the Ballycastle Bats (which had caused a riot even amongst the Gryffindors, as some of them were decidedly not Ballycastle supporters). It was kind of...pathetic, honestly. She supposed Alice was busy studying and being Head Girl, and Frank was busy studying, too...But she, Laura, and Marcus could surely organise something. Maybe Frank and Remus too. She looked back up at him. His head was hidden behind his arms, but he looked thinner, as if that was even possible. She pressed her lips together. She wondered just how ill his mother was. They must be close. He always returned to school worse for wear. It wouldn't be fair to add more to his plate.

Flitwick tapped his wand on a box filled with rolls of parchment. Their exams flew through the air towards them. Mary ducked and it smacked against the panelling behind them. Peter scrambled for it and dropped it on her desk. Lily grabbed her own exam out of the air, and took a deep breath.

"No, I've changed my mind, I can't look," Marlene said. Lily unrolled the parchment. Her eyes went straight for the red number at the bottom of the page. 91%. She couldn't help it. She beamed.

"You did well, then," Marlene said. She leaned over. "Blimey! Good job."

"Thanks," Lily smiled. "Are you going to check yours?" Marlene squinted.

"You do it," she said, handing Lily her scroll.

"You're sure?"
"Definitely." Lily unfurled the scroll. She bit her lip.

"Ooh, Marlene…"

"What? What is it? Tell me, you bitch!" Marlene snatched it from her.

"Language, Miss McKinnon," Professor Flitwick said vaguely.

"Sorry, sir." Marlene breathlessly looked over the parchment. "Merlin's balls! I hate you, Lily Evans." The 70% at the bottom of the page glittered red.

Mary eventually revealed her mark - 61% - and Lily was sure to make a big deal out of how good she'd done.

"That's a good strong pass," Lily told her. "You've got nothing to worry about." Dale, she gathered, did have something to worry about, given that Professor Flitwick called him up for a private chat. That, and that Sirius looked over at his mark and then donned a very smug look. Her fingers curled. God, he was insufferable. Sometimes she wanted to smack him.

The remainder of the class consisted of 'revising practical spells', which actually meant that everyone gossiped around their marks and which classes they were worried about and what they thought their parents might say. Lily was pouring water from the tip of her wand onto the floor for Marlene to practise her cleaning charms on when Glen approached.

"Hey, Lily," he said casually. Marlene winked at her.

"Morning," Lily said. "You haven't succumb to 'results fever'?" Glen raised his eyebrows.

"There's nothing to be frightened of. Even if you get a poor mark, it's not as if knowledge can really be ranked from one exam. There are too many external factors," he said. Lily smirked.

"You are such a Ravenclaw," she said.

"Thank you," he replied. "Now, I'll live up to the inquisitiveness of my house and ask: what did you get?" A large puddle pooled around Marlene's feet. Lily cancelled the spell, and Marlene grumbled as she swished her wand at it. Lily turned her attention and clicked her tongue at Glen.

"Ninety-one percent," she said quietly. His face lit up.

"Ninety-one? Congratulations," he said. "You nearly beat me."

"Ninety-one?!"

Lily cringed. James broke into their conversation, glasses askew, one cheek bulging oddly.

"Did you really get ninety-one?" he demanded. "Good job, Evans."

"Did I really?" she echoed, more briskly than she intended. "What, do you think I couldn't?"

"I didn't say that," James said, words garbled. She wrinkled her nose.

"Do you still have food in your mouth? Learn to swallow, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners?" His face reddened.

"Sorry I'm not an expert at swallowing like Snivellus. By the way, did his mother never teach him how to wash his hair? You ought to get him some shampoo for Snivellus. Or if you want to give him some Sleekeazy's, I'll get you that for free. You deserve a friend that's heard of a shower." She curled her fist tightly around her wand.

"He's not even here! Why are you so obsessed with him? I wasn't even talking to you in the first place! Get lost!"

"Go on, Potter, go help Pettigrew," Glen said. He draped his arm over her. Lily flushed. James gaped. She spotted something green in his mouth. That's foul.

"Are you dating this twat?" he asked.

"No!" she said, and shrugged Glen's arm off her. "And he's not a twat. Beat it, Potter, or I'll hex you. And tell Black not to laugh at Dale, it's quite rude, actually."

"You wouldn't hex me," James said, though he didn't look sure. She lifted her wand.

"Try me." He lifted his hands in surrender.

"I just wanted to say 'good job'," he said. "Don't get your knickers in a knot." He turned away, retreating back to his little gang. She glared fiercely at his back.

"I hate to say it, but he's a piece of work," Glen said, in a low voice.

"You shouldn't hate speaking the truth," she grumbled.

"Done!" Marlene called, gesturing to the splay of dry floor beneath her feet.

"Good job," Lily said. "Now get me wet!" She cringed the moment the words left her mouth. She looked behind her, but James was deep in conversation with Peter. Thank God. Marlene grinned cheekily.

"Calm down, Lils," Marlene said, but she cast the spell. She squirted a jet of water right at Lily, who squealed in surprise. It was icy and hit her right in the neck, before dribbling down her clothes.

"Marlene!" She dried herself as quickly as possible, though it came with the awkwardness of pointing her wand down her robes.

"Excuse me, Lily," Glen said. Lily dried the last of the droplets, and shuddered.

"Focillo," she grumbled, pointing her wand at her skin. A light heat spread through her. "Yeah?"

"I'd like to extend an invitation to you, to come to my Charms study sessions," he said. "Having a few high achievers there can really help those who struggle a bit more. It'll be on Thursday nights, after dinner, starting next term." She warmed her other arm and her robes. She'd only just been thinking that the Gryffindors were lazy, so it would make sense to tag along to Glen's study session. At worst, she'd get some ideas and maybe be able to help people. And yet, her heart didn't exactly leap at the opportunity. On Thursdays, her last class was right before dinner. Even if the study session only took her to eight o'clock, she'd only have an hour before dinner and an hour after the session to use the library. Everyone said homework started really piled on after Christmas. Not to mention assignments, and extra revision.

"I'll come along when I can," she said. "Finite."

"Great," Glen smiled. "I can't wait to see you there." She gave him an odd look.

"Yeah," she said.

Lily and Mary walked Marlene to Muggle Studies, and then returned to the Gryffindor common room. A group of first years hogged the windows, shaking their heads at the snow-less grounds.

"I thought it was meant to snow all the time in Scotland," one girl pouted. "I'm going to write to somebody about this."

"About the snow?" A boy said incredulously. "You're barking."

"Shut up!"

"Hey!" Lily called, over the back of the couch. They gave her a sheepish look and an apology. Lily shot them her best Petunia-look, and they settled down. Then she smiled at Mary.

"It would be nice if there was snow," Mary said, picking at her robes. "It hardly feels like Christmas at all, without it."

"You don't need snow for it to be Christmas," Lily said. Mary looked at her. "Honestly."

"Maybe you don't need it, but it helps," Mary said. "Don't you think everyone would be more cheerful if it was Christmas?"

"Peppermint sweets, the cure to that sinking feeling you get when you realise your parents will be disappointed in you and you'll have to live in crippling shame the whole time you're home," Lily said. Mary folded her arms across her chest. "Sorry."

They ended up fiddling with the radio until they found a channel playing Christmas carols, and Lily pulled off a charm to make it snow from the ceiling. The first years brightened up at that. Then, out of nowhere, Peter Pettigrew scurried down from his dormitory and handed out a variety of Zonko's products. Some of which were banned. Lily raised an eyebrow.

"They're not really dangerous," Peter said, scratching the back of his neck. "And we're here supervising."

"We?" Lily asked sternly. Peter gulped. She broke into a smile. "Good to hear it, Peter. Maybe you'll be giving Remus a run for his money."

"I doubt it," Peter laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. She frowned sympathetically. There was a girl back home, Sue, who had awful buck teeth, and she always tried to hide them when she laughed. Lily counted herself lucky that her teeth were fine.

They reconvened with Marlene outside the Transfiguration classroom, all feeling kind of sick.

"There was this Hufflepuff girl - Nicholson, I think her name's Paige - she was crying all through Muggle Studies because of her Transfiguration mark. Lucky bugger had Professor Clearwater checking on her and offering her hot chocolate," Marlene said.

"Poor thing," Lily said. Mary twisted her hair.

"That'll be me," she said solemnly. Lily squeezed her arm.

Professor McGonagall invited them in, and immediately hushed their whispers.

"Today, we will be learning about turning lovebirds into love notes. I understand it has been an emotional day for some, and as such, I thought it wise to focus on theory." Peter groaned loudly.

"Mr. Pettigrew?"

"Sorry, Professor," he said. Professor McGonagall's gaze flicked from him to another. For a moment, Lily thought she was looking at her.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked. Lily cringed at his name.

"Professor McGonagall," James said warmly.

"I presume you have a question?" Her words were sharp.

"Well, Professor, aren't we supposed to get our marks back this lesson?"

"You will," she said. "At the conclusion of the lesson, Mr. Potter. You are not yet on holiday. You will be learning, in my classroom, until the end of term." And with that, writing appeared on the blackboard.

Marlene groaned too.

The lesson did drag on a bit. Lily drew hearts in the places of dots as she wrote a list of things to remember when performing the spell. Alisha passed gum down their row, but Lily didn't take any. Professor McGonagall loathed gum, and anyone caught with it in class was bound to end up scrubbing the underside of the desks - by hand.

Finally, at quarter past eleven, Professor McGonagall instructed them to put their quills down. Mary flexed her fingers, inspecting the red welt on her finger.

"When I call out your name, you may come to the front of the classroom and collect your paper. You may then read it silently, and return it to me when you are finished." She eyed them all. "Bellchant."

Branton was in the front row. He stood, took the paper, and returned to his desk. He flipped it over. His face fell.

"Bollocks. If he's failed, I certainly have," Marlene said. Mary inhaled sharply.

Lily went after Florence Diggory, who mouthed 'good luck' as Lily passed by. Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed tightly together. She took the top paper from the pile, checked the name, and handed it over face-down.

"Thank you, Professor," Lily said. Professor McGonagall nodded. She took her seat between Marlene and Mary, and flipped her test over. Her eyes dropped to the bottom of the page.

88%.

No way, she thought. 88%? In Transfiguration? That was her best score yet in the subject. Marlene looked over and opened her mouth. Lily shushed her. Marlene rolled her eyes, but gave her a thumbs up. Lily's heart soared. It felt like more of an achievement than her Charms mark, even if it was lower.

All three of the girls passed, and James Potter got a 99%. He whooped and cheered and Professor McGonagall stared him down. He rifled through his exam and found that he had been precisely one question off full marks.

"Professor! Professor!" he called out. "Did I top the year?" Professor McGonagall winced.

"Yes," she said, through gritted teeth. James looked elated, and leaned back in his seat, rustling his hair.

"Good job, James! That's brilliant!" Peter went on.

"Nice one," Sirius said.

"Of course you bloody topped it," Remus said, smiling.

"You are to read in silence," Professor McGonagall reminded them pointedly.

Lunch ended up giving her a mild headache, as James prattled on and on about his marks to that little third year girlfriend of his, Lisbete. She was very pretty, but Lily doubted her ability to judge character.

"Wow!" she said, for the third time that minute. Lily rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.

"Wow, Lily!" Marlene whispered. "Wow! Really? Truly? Wow!"

"She's a kid," Lily said. "Of course Potter would date a fangirl."

"Sharply said. Are you sure you're not jealous?"

"Jealous?" Lily scoffed. "My brains are running out of my ears trying to get away from the sound of his voice now. Can you imagine if I had to spend all my free time with him?" He was everywhere today, it seemed. At least in Ancient Runes, she could catch a break.

Glen, Florence, and even Peter waved at her, indicating an empty seat nearby, but she went straight for Severus. He scribbled in the margins of his textbook, paying her no mind until she pulled the seat out beside him. He looked up.

"Lily," he said.

"Sev," she said. She took a seat and got her things out for the lesson.

"How have you gone, so far?" he asked. "Above 90% in everything?"

"No," she said. He searched her face.

"Above 85%, then." She quirked her lips. "I knew it. You're brilliant."

"Oh, rubbish. I've only got two of my results back," she said. "I'm awful at History. Just you wait and see what I get in that."

"I'd always be happy to help you study," he offered.

"I know, I'm just busy all the time."

"You don't think it'd be a good use of your time?" It was lightly said, but Lily knew how tetchy he could get. She gave him a look.

"Hanging with you is always a good use of my time," she told him, honestly. "How'd you go, anyways?" His hands dove into his bag. He pulled out his exams and held them up triumphantly. 84% in Charms and 79% in Transfiguration. "Oh, that's great, Sev. I knew you'd do well." His face fell.

"It's not my best," he said, shoving them beneath his books.

"It's still good," she said.

"Not good enough."

Professor Fawley returned their marks at the beginning of the lesson, advising them to draw up a study plan based on their weaker areas. Lily and Sev compared.

"No way," Lily said, grinning. A pinkish tinge crept into Sev's gaunt face.

"We're even-matched," Severus said. In the top corner of each of their exams, an '89%' glittered in shining blue ink.

"I hope he doesn't think we were cheating," Lily whispered. Severus flipped through both of their exams, checking their answers against each other.

"He won't. You said Odal wasn't used by the Anglo-Saxons, but it was. I mistranslated Haglaz."

"It's the Anglo-Frisians that confuse me," Lily said. "I always think Frisian should be French, but in that case, why would we ever have anything to do with the French? I mean, it's a lovely country, but we're English." Severus snorted.

"How patriotic."

"Oh, you know what I mean," Lily said, elbowing him. "I distinctly remember a little boy who set the French flag on fire after Richard teased him."

"That was an accident," Severus snapped. Lily flinched. "Didn't you ever realise? I wouldn't have done it on purpose, no matter what Richard said. I couldn't walk for a week after my father found out." She went cold. She cursed at herself. She cursed at the horror that was Tobias Snape.

"I'm sorry," she said. He looked away.

"I don't want an apology," he said. "It doesn't make me feel any better." Her face fell. Cautiously, she touched his arm. He inhaled sharply, but didn't move.

"I know," she said, pausing as she selected her words. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have assumed it was intentional on your part. Richard Smote was a pest, and I only wish I'd slapped him when I had the chance." He turned back towards her, his scowl less severe.

"It's not too late to slap Potter," Severus said. It took all Lily's might not to bite back. They were obsessed. She'd never met two boys so fixated on each other. If one of them had been female, their whole year would've been placing bets on how long it would be before they got together. She patted her badge.

"I'm sure the Headmaster would love it," she said.

"He should. Maybe a slap would put his head in order, and he'd stop being such an arse." Severus smiled. "No, I think that's speaking too highly of him."

"Sev," Lily admonished, laughing. "Is that what you want to do?"

"What?"

"Fine," Lily said. "Who first?"

That was the thing about Severus. Her other friends knew her as Hogwarts Lily - High Marks Lily, Prefect Lily, Bully-Fighter Lily. Severus had known her since she was nine, and knew and loved Screaming-at-Petunia Lily, I-Hate-Marcie-Jenkins-And-Her-Stupid-New-Bike Lily, the Lily who snuck out over the summer between third and fourth year to buy chips just before the shop closed, and then would sit on the riverbank with him and practise magic (neither of them were muggles, and so long as they were careful not to have any muggles around and only did small spells, they could get away with it). Sometimes, she thought she was her worst self with Severus. But that wasn't true; she was just the version of herself that was half a child still, the one that didn't care about prejudice against muggleborns or helping people and who didn't have that constant fear of expulsion and ejection from the wizarding world simmering in the back of her mind.

This was just a way to vent. It wasn't nice, but it beat hexing people for the hell of it. And she and Severus had long-established rules: no making fun of somebody because of their blood status, and you couldn't rag on the other person's friend, unless they brought that friend up first.

"Vane," Severus decided. Lily liked him, but he wasn't close enough of a friend to be protected by rule two. That mainly went for Marlene, Mary, and Remus - though Sev pushed his luck with Remus more often than she would've liked. "It's his hair. He's sold his soul to Potter's dad's company."

"In Charms this morning," Lily whispered, "he came up to me, and invited me to go to his study session. It's every week, Thursday nights. I think he wants to use me as free tutoring."

"He still likes you," Severus said. Lily shook her head.

"No way. That was second year." And that was the other reason Glen wasn't covered by the Friend Protection Act; technically, he was an ex.

"He does," Severus said. "He thinks he'll impress you with all his stupid hair potion."

"If I wanted a lifetime supply of hair potions, wouldn't I just go to the source and marry Potter?" she joked. Sev wrinkled his nose.

"Don't. I'd feel sorry for the idiot who ends up with him, but she'll likely be some bitch just as stupid and arrogant as he is." Lily shook her head.

"Even the bitches aren't stupid enough to go for him. He's dating a third year. It's pathetic. Apparently she was almost a fourth year, but still. It's the principle of the thing. If they'd been dating six months earlier, she'd have been too young to go to Hogsmeade." Professor Fawley glanced their way, and Lily dropped her gaze, pretending to inspect her answers. "I do feel sorry for her. I mean, he's a popular, good-looking Quidditch player, she probably thinks she's lucky."

"Good-looking?" Severus demanded. Lily shrugged.

"In that really conventional, 'look at me, I'm so rich that I can pay someone to wipe my arse' sort of way," Lily amended. He wasn't overly tall, but he was well-muscled, and had that cheeky smile and dark brown eyes that girls fawned over. He could've been nice to look at, if he wasn't such a twat.

"I'm coming up with a new hex for him," Severs said.

"Sev," Lily said, but she couldn't disapprove, not really. Potter hexed Sev without rhyme or reason. At least Severus could come up with his own spells. "So long as it doesn't expel his insides or anything awful." He pulled out his Potions textbook, and flipped the pages. When he found what he was looking for, he slid it towards her. 'Levicorpus.' It only took her a moment to guess the meaning. "A modified levitation charm?"

"Kind of," Severus said. "Lifts them by the ankle, upside-down. What's it like to feel powerless?"

"Just don't keep him up there too long. All the blood will rush to his head, and if his head gets any bigger, he won't fit in the corridors."

"Good," Severus said firmly. She smiled, but bit her lip.

"Bellchant's been annoying me lately," she said. "I don't know why. Just, looking at him...He feels a bit slimy?"

"All the Ravenclaws are a bit slimy. They're too proud. What I'd pay for them all to fail," Severus said.

"Pride cometh before the fall," Lily said.

"I hope so," Severus said hungrily. "For the Ravenclaws, and for Potter, and for Black. For all of them. Everyone who's thought they're better, or smarter - what I'd give to see them on their knees."

"You sound like you want to take over the world," Lily said.

"You and me," Severus said, looking right at her. "Prince and Evans." She laughed. That had been the dream, as kids. They'd take over the world, and snotty sisters and drunken dads and Marcie Jenkins and her stupid bike would be outlawed to somewhere really horrid, like the Isle of Man, or Manchester. Anywhere with 'Man' in it was bad.

"Prince and Evans," she said, like a toast. "Look out, Cokeworth. Watch it, Hogwarts."

"We'll make you all pay."

Sev didn't take Care of Magical Creatures. Lily met with Marlene, who eyed her.

"Look at you, you're all Snape-y," Marlene said. Lily scoffed.

"'Snape-y'? Bullshit, Marls," Lily said. Marlene smirked.

"You sound all Brummie after you've been with him," she teased.

"I'm not even from Birmingham!" she protested, but she made the effort to enunciate her words clearly.

The lesson was a write-off, with Professor Kettleburn nursing a new injury. He didn't even return their exams, he just told them their marks verbally. Lily did alright, but it didn't warrant raving over. Sirius got into an argument with Rosier over something probably impossibly stupid, so Lily followed Marlene and Alisha out of Kettleburn's eyesight. They were in a part of the Forest that was actually maintained and not very forbidden at all, given that they regularly had classes there, but it still didn't take long to obscure themselves. They could still see their classmates, fanning out through the trees. Lily shuddered, muscles tightening as she recalled the other night. She was half-convinced that she'd been dreaming. She was pulled out of it by a flare of light at Marlene's wand tip. Marlene lit a cigarette.

"Come on, they'll smell it on your robes," Lily said. Marlene exhaled smoke.

"Nah, they won't. Dale reeks of weed, and Kettleburn and Sprout never do anything about it."

"They probably don't know what it smells like," Lily said. Marlene raised her eyebrows.

"Sprout's the Herbology teacher. And you can't tell me Kettleburn doesn't smoke."

"Don't come crying to me when you get into trouble," Lily said. Marlene flashed her two fingers.

When they returned to the main class, they discovered that Black and Rosier had been sent up to the Hospital Wing. Remus looked queasy, and Lily sat on a rock next to him.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Sick," he said, looking down. "We need to give out more points. Sirius just lost us ten."

"Ten?" From Kettleburn, that was a lot. "Did he kill Rosier?"

"Rosier was talking about his brother," Remus said.

"Oh." Lily didn't really know Regulus. He seemed more or less like a lot of the other Slytherins. She thought privately that Rosier might know Regulus better than Sirius did, at this point. She'd never seen Sirius with his brother, except at the train station.

"I'm glad I'm an only child," Remus said. "I don't think I'd be any good at being a brother." Lily tilted her head.

"You'd be a great brother," Lily said. Remus chuckled.

"Hardly."

"Well, even if you're not a good sibling, they still love you. That's what family's for." Remus hunched his shoulders over.

"I don't want anyone to have to love me," he said. "That's an obligation. That's not love." She didn't know what to say to that. She just sat with it, and with him.


December 18th, 1975

Each second that passed was like a blow to the head. Remus sat on the tiled floor of the boys' ensuite. He stretched his legs out as far as they could go, almost cracking his knees. His pulse skipped oddly in his wrists, each pump of his heart beckoning another swell of pain. His mouth was dry. His bones ached. His joints grinded, preparing to reshape themselves in the evening. Fog gripped his brain tightly, a grey slate pressing down, squeezing out the juice. The only things in the world were pain and exhaustion.

He wanted a sleeping draught. There was one in the cupboard. That's why he'd come in. Had it been ten minutes ago, or twenty? He started to shiver. He was in his pants and a vest. He'd meant to get changed too. Maybe to have a shower. The shower was very far away. The tiles bit into his skin. He needed to sleep. If he didn't sleep, it'd be worse tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey would give him a stronger sleeping draught, but the Hospital Wing was even further than the shower. And she would worry. She'd keep him in until the Christmas holidays began. That would be shit.

His wrists tingled in time with his stomach. His foot was near the sink's cupboard. It hurt to keep his head up. His neck was too tired. He was too tired. He tried to ball a fist, but only managed to curl his fingers. He wanted to scream. It was shit, shit, shit all the way down. He couldn't yell out. The others were in History. He'd left his wand on his bedside table. Even if he hadn't, he was too weak to do a summoning charm. He sniffed the air. He thought he could smell the lavender scent of the potion. He squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck. He wanted sleep. He craved it. Something clicked in his leg. He cried out.

He was stuck in a twilight. The moon drew the pain to the surface, but the pain did not come alone. He faded in and out of conscious thought, but each time he roused, it was there, waiting for him, a mantra. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Pomfrey had potions for the physical. He couldn't go. She would worry. He would be trapped. He would be trapped wherever he went. The moon would come regardless of where he was. Pain would follow. The incessant bleating of his brain would cling, no matter if he was curled up on the bathroom floor or tucked into a starched hospital bed. Freedom was a foreign concept; it had been out of the question since he was five years old.

He wanted to break something, not to be broken. Remus struggled shifting his weight. He scooted himself across the floor to the cupboard, and tore at the handle. It was full of potions - sleeping draughts, hair products, Pepperup and Wideye. Amongst the vials were broken combs, razors (James and Peter's were labelled), shaving cream, a bowl, a crushed packet of Bertie Botts', and a soggy cigarette. Remus blearily gazed at the contents. Dreamless Sleep was right there, three vials full of purple all in a row. He flexed his fingers. Fuck. He wanted to smash his fist into the mirror. He wanted to rip his face into ribbons. Yesterday's sleepless night dragged his eyes down.

Sirius' voice roused him.

"Yeah, give me a moment," he said. Maybe James replied. Remus' head hurt. His back was against the door. The cupboard was still open. He squeezed his eyes. The aching flooded his system once more. Now his ankles hurt. Ankles and wrists. The joining bits. The bits that got sliced in half if you lost your hand or your foot. He would have preferred to lose his feet than his hands. At least with his hands remaining, he could roll a smoke and read. He would never have to get out of bed again.

The door hit him in the back. He groaned. Sirius stepped inside, and with him came the smell of his aftershave, bold and demanding. It smelled like wealthy businessmen and fancy restaurants, the kind they'd go to sometimes for his mother's birthday, where everything cost a thousand pounds and they had to eat soup for the week after. His hair was tied back in a bun, though a few strands escaped. He had a Tutshill Tornados jumper on over his uniform. Remus blinked.

"They dock you points?" he managed, frowning at the jumper.

"Nah," Sirius said. He looked towards the door. Remus did too, but strained with the effort of turning his head. "I need to piss." Remus nodded slowly. Sirius shrugged, shut the door, and turned around to the loo. Remus closed his eyes, and didn't reopen them until he heard the flush. Sirius swiped his hands under the tap, and scrubbed them with soap. Good posh boy manners. After that, he sat down next to Remus.

"There's a bit of Firewhisky in there," Sirius said, indicating a vial hidden behind the Wideye potions. Remus said nothing. "Is it Moon-y related?" Remus didn't laugh. He managed to grunt in the affirmative. Sirius leaned forwards, sticking his hands in the cupboard. "Dreamless sleep?"

"Mm." Sirius pulled the cork out and handed it to him. It smelt strongly of lavender. He could've slept right there, inhaling it. "I needa go to bed," he mumbled.

"Yeah," Sirius said. Remus cringed. I don't wanna say it, he thought. Please. He was pathetic. Something in him snarled, snapped. He could've punched Sirius, for not understanding. James would've known. James was used to old people, with bad hips and sore legs. He carried bags and books and lent his arm up stairs without thinking. Sirius barely knew how to help himself.

Sirius got to his feet. "Coming?" he asked. Remus gritted his teeth, and nodded. Everything hurt as he clambered upwards. The world spun. It took all his might not to spill the potion. Sirius threw open the door, and Remus stumbled out behind him. James leapt off his bed.

"Sirius!" he scolded, and pushed him out of the road. He snatched the potion from Remus' hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. That was almost worse. Sirius' eyes narrowed. Remus could see his brain working.

"Oh, shit," Sirius said. James helped Remus over to his bed as though he were a grandmother. Sirius' expression changed. If he had known Sirius would realise what a state he was in, he would've asked him for help in the first place. It didn't matter now. Remus sunk into his bed.. Sleep had never sounded so good.

"Are you right, mate?" James asked, dark eyes full of worry. He glanced at Sirius. "Don't tell me you pissed while he was in there."

"I had to go," Sirius said. James ignored him.

"Are you right? Do you want a fag?" James said. Remus shook his head, and bit down so he didn't cry out. "I can run down and catch Pete, we can get you lunch. We can go to Pomfrey."

"No," Remus said quickly. "I'll sleep." James ran his fingers through his hair

"Alright, if that's what you want. But if you do need anything, we'll get it. You don't need to worry about asking." He meant it, Remus knew, but he didn't get it. Remus could ask, and they'd do it for him, but it wouldn't be the same. He didn't want to be treated as a fucking invalid, and asking for help guaranteed it. They got that look, the one Sirius was wearing, and it was like he wasn't Remus anymore.

"Yeah," Remus said quietly. James clapped him on the shoulder. Remus gasped. For a moment, the pain blinded him. Blood rushed in his ears.

"Fuck, fuck, sorry, I'm sorry, Remus," James said.

"It's fine," Remus snapped. He couldn't breathe. Fuck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," James kept saying. Sirius said something. Remus heard himself reassure them, but it hurt to speak. He ended up gulping down the potion. James took the vial from him and he plunged into darkness.

He woke again to the sound of Sirius' voice. Someone shook him, softly.

"Remus," someone said. He shut his eyes. Someone shook him hard. He yelped, flinging his eyes open.

"Fucking hell!" James shouted. Sirius raised his hands. The two of them sat on his bed, faces directly above his. "Sorry, Remus. Sirius doesn't know how to be a normal person."

"I thought Moony liked it rough," Sirius said. James' face darkened. Remus snorted, and they both looked back at him. Sirius grinned.

"It's after three," James said. "You right?" James helped him sit up. Peter stood at the end of his bed, and smiled awkwardly.

"We bunked off Defence to come get you," Peter said. Remus nodded his thanks. James helped him out of bed and Peter grabbed the bag he took to the infirmary each month. Sirius hovered, and tugged at his earlobe.

"I want to pierce my ear," he said. "I'm going to do it." Peter goggled at him.

"Your parents will kill you!" Peter said. Sirius shrugged. "They'll think you're all rock and roll. Or - or a skinhead or something." Remus coughed a laugh. Sirius, a skinhead? Yeah, right. Remus saw boys in their Doc Martens and braces and shaved heads when he went into town with his mum. It seemed unlikely Sirius would ever shave his head, or would even know what to do if he found himself in a neighbourhood that wasn't the wealthy side of London.

"Fuck my parents," Sirius said.

They got to the infirmary shortly before three-thirty. Madam Pomfrey sighed the way she always did when his friends came along - he swore up and down he hadn't told them, but they both knew it was a lie.

"Thank you, boys," she said. "Now, you'd best go back to class. Really." She offered her arm to him, but he hobbled over to the bed on his own. His ankles protested every step. She closed the curtains and performed a few diagnostic charms.

"What potion did you take?" she asked him.

"Dreamless sleep."

"I see." His body ached with the effort of staying upright. The orange glow of sunset lit the white bedsheets. He wanted to curl up in a ball. "Everything looks to be in order. Are you ready?" "Yep," he said tightly. She pressed her lips together.

At least in winter, most students were still in class when the sun went down, and those who weren't were inside by a fire. They only had to worry about the third years in the greenhouses, but they were kept busy by the mandrakes today. They descended into the tunnel. Remus' muscles tensed. I want to die. I want to die. Please let me die. It became harder and harder to walk. His hip was killing him. Everything in him screamed that he should run. He was trapped. He was always trapped. The earth walls were the bars of his cage. He wanted to tear through the dirt until he could feel the grass beneath his feet, and then he could run. He could run all the way to the seaside, or into the mountains, and he could run and run and not have to go into the Shack.

Madam Pomfrey helped him inside, and hugged herself as he sat down on the bed.

"Be safe, Remus," she said. He looked at her. How could he promise that? She wrung her hands. "I'll be back in the morning." She always was. He nodded. Then she left, and he was alone.

He undressed, and laid down on the bed, waiting. He wondered if James and Sirius and Peter had really gone back to class. Probably not. They'd be roaming the hallways, maybe working on the map idea, or maybe doing whatever it was they loved to do when he wasn't around. Maybe James would stop and visit Lisbete in the greenhouses. His back hurt. Did they have more fun without him? Without James having to fuss over him? Maybe they were talking about how fragile he was. Sirius could've been saying that he found him on the floor of the bathroom, half-dead to the world, unable to crawl the two inches to the cupboard. How much easier would life be without him around? Not to mention that he was a prefect. At least with him locked away in the Shack, they could runamuck without that worry in the back of their heads that he'd report them. They all promised they knew he wouldn't, but Remus knew better. Of course they'd be thinking that. Of course they'd be worrying that he was some kind of spy, just waiting to catch them out and dock a hundred points.

The pain overwhelmed him.

He woke up on the floor. Every breath felt like a stab through the ribs. He wasn't sure how long he spent with his cheek pressed against the wood, just trying to take in air. He sat up slowly, feeling for any other sore spots. There was a sharp hurt in his chest, a dryness in his throat, an ache in his jaw and teeth, and a few cuts and bruises, but he didn't appear to have broken anything. That was good, he thought. What a low bar. Splinters lodged in his palms. He looked to his right. When he'd entered the night before, there had been a chair in the corner. It was gone. Instead, bits of wood were strewn across the dinghy room, the ends chewed through.

Gingerly, he stood and got dressed into his clothes from the day before. He sat on the bed and waited. He made himself picture the town near home, full of muggles. As mundane as possible. The only werewolves there were those you saw at the pictures in the city - American actors in make-up who enjoyed chasing people. Remus could imagine his life being transformed into a horror movie quite easily. The best friend who has a secret is actually a monster. His well-meaning friends go into the Shrieking Shack on the edge of town and become the victims. James would be good in a horror movie, as would Peter. Every movie needed a bold hero and a frightened sidekick. Remus wasn't sure where Sirius would fit. Maybe he'd come in with a chainsaw and help Remus murder Peter. That would be no good for Peter, though.

The trapdoor opened. Madam Pomfrey climbed through, dressed in her full matron's uniform, holding her wand in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. She smiled glumly at him.

"Good morning, Remus," she said. He nodded.

"What time is it?" he rasped. It hurt to talk. She checked her watch.

"Quarter to nine." He did the maths. Nearly seventeen hours as a wolf. In the summer, it was less than half a day. He wasn't so tired afterwards, and could be counted on to make dinner. In the darkness of winter, he lost more of his humanity. The wolf longed to run through those freezing nights; it fought for the freedom to curl up with a pack, and to hunt for a good meal. When he had eaten in the past few days, it had been meat. Thinking about it made him queasy. Madam Pomfrey cast a couple of spells, and removed the splinters from his hand. Then she offered him her arm. He was in no position to say no that morning. They struggled back to the infirmary together, and he kept his head down when they passed classes.

She offered to help him change, but he refused, and gritted his teeth as he got into his pyjamas. Madam Pomfrey came back with a potion for him, and he fell into a deep sleep. He came to in the early afternoon. He was still sore and tired, but his throat and lungs didn't hurt too much. His cuts were closing - the ones from the wolf, that is. He managed to dig out his chocolate bar, and got halfway through it before he had to sleep again.

Remus woke in the late evening. He jumped, and rubbed his eyes furiously. At the end of his bed floated Sirius Black's disembodied head. Sirius raised a finger to his lips. Remus' mouth moved wordlessly. It took a second for his voice to return.

"James know?" he asked. Sirius shook his head.

"He's busy," Sirius said, and made a kissy face. Lisbete. Sirius sat down, and the bed groaned. Remus winced. The curtains were closed, shielding them from the rest of the infirmary, though it was silent. He could only hear a broom sweeping its way across the floor. Probably enchanted. "How are you?" Remus considered this. He touched his hand to his forehead. It didn't feel so heavy. His arms had stopped stinging.

"Good," Remus said. That was a stretch, but he was doing well, comparatively.

"When do you think you'll be allowed out? Tonight?" What day was it? Friday. Friday night. He'd lost over a day. The stolen minutes of consciousness in the middle didn't count. No more classes for the term. They'd head home on Sunday for Christmas.

"In the morning. She'll keep me in for observations," Remus told him. Sirius pulled a face.

"That's shit. I need your assistance with something." Remus tilted his head back against the pillow. It moulded to suit him at once, firm enough to prop him up, but soft enough to hug the back of his head.

"Just keep in mind that I'm not in prime condition," Remus warned him. Sirius grinned, and it illuminated his face. He shrugged off the Cloak. Today, his bun was tied on the top of his head; it was messier than yesterday. He wore a long grey tunic with pyjama bottoms underneath and a black bedrobe on top. He crossed his legs like a child.

"It's not hard," Sirius promised. Remus was skeptical. 'Not hard' could mean absolutely anything that Sirius personally didn't find impossible. His stomach growled. He wanted a steak, or sausages and potatoes. He would've settled for a chicken sandwich. Dinner and sleep sounded like the best course of action. Dinner, sleep, and a fresh start in the morning.

He sighed. "What is it?" Sirius leaned forwards, turning his head to show the left side of his face. Remus raised his eyebrows. "My, what a pretty cheek you have."

"It's my ear you should be admiring," Sirius informed him. Oh. Remus drummed his fingers on the blanket.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Peter had only exaggerated a little. He could not imagine Mr and Mrs Black, who loudly objected to the Ministry's use of a muggle telephone box to disguise the guest entrance, and who had added their names to a petition to lengthen the skirt of the Hogwarts uniform, would approve of their eldest son (and heir, because that's the sort of family the Blacks were) getting his ear pierced. Especially if the piercing was done by a half-blood werewolf.

"I'm certain," Sirius said. "Come on, Moony. Indulge me. You won't have to deal with the consequences." Are you sure? Sometimes it feels like the only person who doesn't deal with the consequences of your actions is you. He bit the thought back. It was just the moon eating into him. The moon, and that stupid fucking nickname. At least Peter was 'Wormy' because of something funny. Remus just got to be nicknamed after the thing that ruined his life. Should I start calling you 'Neglect'? Hi, 'Mother Never Loved Me'.

"Fine, you son of a bitch," he settled on. Sirius hesitated, and then laughed.

"You're not wrong. I'll be back." He threw the Invisibility Cloak on and ducked outside. He returned with a hand mirror. He gave it to Remus.

"Am I piercing your ear one-handed?" Remus asked.

"Nah," Sirius said. "I am. Hold the mirror up, so I can see." Remus put the mirror down.

"You're piercing your own ear?"

"What else would I be doing? Hold up the mirror, Moony."

"You couldn't get James to do this? Or Peter? Or anyone who's not in the Hospital Wing?" Remus asked. Sirius looked disappointed.

"James would find the right words to talk me out of it, and Peter would whinge or tell one of the professors or just refuse. I need an enabler," Sirius told him. Remus scoffed.

"Thanks," he said. "I'm glad I'm useful."

"I knew you would be," Sirius assured him. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a thin, silver needle. Remus reluctantly held the mirror up. He wasn't an enabler. Sirius was full of shit. Sirius turned his head further to the side, and pinched the lobe of his left ear. Remus wondered how much it hurt. Not much, he thought, but then again, he was pretty sure some girl in their year had had an infected piercing back in second year. James and Sirius called her 'pussyear' for months, on account of the unfortunate yellow ooze, and the fact that twelve- and thirteen-year-old boys thought anything vagina-ish was the height of comedy. Remus preferred just not talking about vaginas ever. The word alone made him feel ill.

"I don't enable you," Remus said again. "I think some of what you do is really fucked up."

"You don't stop it," Sirius said simply. "And now you're a prefect, so you can cover our arses properly." Fucking prefect position. Couldn't Dumbledore have given it to James, who actually wanted it? How was Remus meant to keep up with it all when he regularly missed days of classes? Why had Dumbledore looked at him and thought he was the perfect one to rat out his friends?

Sirius rubbed the side of his face. "This ear?" He turned his head, and Remus looked at each.

"Yeah, your left."

"Thanks."

"Have you got something to put in it?" Remus asked. How well had Sirius thought this through? Sirius withdrew a dark stud from his pocket.

"I got it from Amy," Sirius said. He pulled the back off and gave it to Remus. Remus closed his hand around it. "I'll pierce the lobe with a needle, and then shove the earring through. She said it's less likely to tear if you do that," he explained.

"You've done your research, then," Remus said. It was still a stupid idea.. Sirius would come back to school with a purple face and black rings around his eyes, not to mention a torn and bloodied ear. He was stirring shit for the sake of stirring shit. If Sirius had been a werewolf, he would've outed himself in the first week, before he transformed for the first time.

"I have," Sirius said. "Hold the mirror up. Count me down."

"I don't agree with this," Remus reminded him, holding the mirror up. Sirius bit his lip, examining his reflection, and tilted his head. "Three. Two." He waited. Sirius didn't move. Remus swallowed. "One." Sirius stabbed the needle through his ear. Remus winced. Sirius' teeth dug into the flesh of his lip. He pulled the needle out and scrambled for the earring. He checked himself in the mirror and pushed it through the new hole. Remus dropped the back into his hand. Sirius fiddled with it, and clicked it on after a couple of moments. A new black stud adorned his ear. Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. He touched his finger to the stud.

"Did it hurt?" Remus asked. Sirius looked up playfully.

'Nah," he said. "I think it's best to be quick." Sirius fidgeted with it. "Do you like it?" Remus smiled, despite himself. He hoped Sirius had the sense to hide it behind his hair.

"It suits you," he said. It really did.


A/N: Sorry that this chapter was a little shorter! It comes in around 9k, but I felt it was a natural ending point, and I don't want to be pushing to 10k just for the sake of it. I want to experiment with slightly shorter chapters (8-10k, rather than 10k-12k) if they fit better, if that's cool with y'all.