Saturday, November 5, 1977
"James, are you all right?"
James looked up at the sound of Lily's voice to find her gazing at him with concern creasing her features. He gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and nodded.
"I'm good," he said, taking a final bite of toast before pushing his plate away. "I'm excellent."
Lily raised her eyebrows and gestured at his plate. "You sure? You were staring at your toast the way I stare at pictures of Harold Minchum."
James grinned and ran a hand through his hair, absently watching Sirius reach for a piece of bacon on Mary's plate only to have his hand knocked away. "I was going through our strategies for avoiding the Slytherin Beaters. One of them is new this year, and from what I've seen he's actually very good but it means they'll take a completely different approach…" He trailed off when he saw the amused expression on her face. "I've explained all of this before, haven't I?"
"Just once or twice."
She ran a hand through his hair and straightened his glasses, then leaned in to kiss him. The chatter of the Great Hall faded and James felt some of the tension in his body ease as her lips pressed against his. When she pulled away, her fingers reached out to trace the engraving on the whistle around his neck.
"I'm really excited to see you play. You and the rest of the team have been working so hard, I know it's going to be great. You'll be brilliant, you always are. And you can't lose, because you have your lucky whistle." She let the whistle drop from her grasp, then looked at him and smirked. "And I assume you're wearing your lucky pants as well?"
He chuckled. "Course I am. Why would I risk ruining our chances, especially with weather like this?" They both looked out the window at the driving rain and grimaced. "But you're right. It'll be great. It has to be, otherwise Sirius's birthday party won't be nearly as fun."
He stood up and strode along the table towards Seven, then doubled back and bent to give Lily a kiss.
"Thanks, Evans," he said, feeling his usual pre-game fervor coursing through his body and energizing him. "I'm going to go check on the team and then round everyone up to go down to the pitch, but I'll see you after the match. Be ready, because I'm going to take you on a victory lap on my broom." He waved at the rest of his friends and strode away before Lily could protest, then slid into the empty seat beside Seven.
"Did you eat a proper breakfast, Seven? You want to set a good example for the new players. Rule number - oh, bloody hell, what number is it, Seven? Well, anyway, you need to eat a good breakfast before a match, and that means you, too, Farley."
"Should we go up to the common room and get everything, then?" Sirius asked, watching as James and the rest of the team gathered next to the Gryffindor table, preparing to make their way down to the Quidditch pitch. "I think we'd better do extra Impervius charms on all of our clothes, just in case."
"Er, I'll meet you up there," Remus said, pushing back from his chair and keeping his eyes fixed on Seven. "I'm just going to run and tell James something."
For a brief moment he thought he saw Mary, Peter, and Sirius exchange a look, but it was over before he could be sure, and then they were all grinning and standing up from the table as if nothing out of the ordinary had passed between them.
"Hurry up, though," Sirius said. "I assume you want to bring half the blankets in the castle, and I'm not bringing them down for you."
"No, you'll be too busy bringing half the firewhisky in the castle," Remus replied before setting off across the Great Hall and quickening his pace until he caught up with Seven in the Entrance Hall.
"Seven," he said, coming to a halt and giving her a shy wave. "Hang on a second."
She slowed and waited to make sure James was safely out of earshot before pulling Remus off to the side and taking his hand.
"Hi," she said, taking a step closer and smiling up at him.
"Hi." He looked around to be sure nobody was watching, then rested his hand on her shoulder and bent to kiss her. "I wanted to say good luck. I can't wait to see you do the Wronski Feint and impress everyone."
She gave him a dubious look. "Well, who knows if I'll actually manage to do it right, or if I'll even have the opportunity to do that maneuver, but thanks." Her face darkened as she glanced out the window at the steady rain. "It looks awful out there, though. If you'd rather stay in the common room and read by the fire, I'd understand."
"Don't be silly," he said, chuckling. "Of course we're coming to watch. James would absolutely murder us if we missed it." He checked his watch and added, "Plus, Sirius has probably already started drinking, so we'll need something to do."
A smile brightened her face, and as she wrapped her arms around him he could sense the tight, anxious excitement humming through her.
"I'm glad you'll be watching," she said, releasing him. "Just make sure you bring a blanket. And waterproof it. I don't want you to freeze."
The concern on her face made him smile, because it was sweet of her to think of him when she had a Quidditch match to win, but there was a certain quality to her worry that made him uneasy. Something in her frown and the crease of her forehead reminded him of Sirius's face on the days before and after the full moon when he ordered Remus to go to bed or eat a few more bites of dinner. He hesitated a moment, studying her face, but then his suspicions evaporated and only affection remained.
"Of course I'll bring a blanket. This isn't my first Quidditch match in bad weather, you know." He leaned in to give her one last kiss. "I'll see you after the match. See if you can sneak away to the reading spot so I can give you a proper congratulations."
"Can't wait."
She waved and hurried off, hunching her shoulders against the wind and rain, and Remus set off for the Gryffindor common room, feeling cheerful despite the prospect of several hours spent getting soaked by icy rain and buffeted by the wind.
"Fuck yeah! That's the way to do it, Prongs!" Sirius shouted as James scored the first goal of the match. He hopped out of his seat to cheer, knocking Remus's blanket off of his lap in the process.
"Watch it, Padfoot," Remus complained, stooping to retrieve the blanket. "It's bloody cold out here."
"Have another drink," Sirius suggested as he passed him the flask. "That should help."
"I hope it's a quick match." Lily peered up through the rain, squinting her eyes to see James dodge a Bludger before passing the Quaffle to Bubbles. "It hardly seems safe to play in this weather. How can they see the Bludgers?"
"They can't, not really," Sirius said, taking the flask back from Remus and handing it to Lily. "But you can sort of hear them coming. They make a kind of whistling sound, although the wind might drown that out." He grinned when he saw the look on her face. "Relax. Prongs knows what he's doing. Have a drink and quit worrying. Besides, Remus's girl will get the Snitch before anything dramatic can happen."
"What do you mean, my girl?" Remus demanded, tucking his arms under the blanket and scowling. "She's not- I never said-"
"We established the other day that you prefer girls with a Seeker's build," Sirius pointed out.
"No, we did not establish that." The wind shifted and began to pelt their faces with raindrops, so Remus pulled the blanket up over his face and continued speaking from underneath it. "We established that that's what you prefer."
"Rubbish. Look at Macdonald. She doesn't have a Seeker's build." Sirius shivered as the wind whipped through his leather jacket, and he shoved his hands underneath Mary's jacket to warm them.
"Your hands are freezing," she complained, but she didn't ask him to remove them.
"Ugh, don't grope each other right in front of us," Remus complained. "If you're cold, have a blanket." He pulled another blanket from his bag and tossed it at Sirius.
"Cheers," Sirius said, adjusting the blanket so it covered Mary as well. "Macdonald, can you get the flask from Evans and pour a bit in my mouth? I can't move my hands just now. They're too warm."
Lily allowed Mary to pluck the flask from her hands. The conversation washed over her, but she was only half aware of what was going on around her as her attention was fixed on the match going on above them. Her eyes followed James, afraid that if she lost sight of him for a second she would miss something vital. Despite her worry for his safety, she couldn't help being impressed by his ability to adapt to the weather. His broom stayed on course despite the heavy winds, and he maintained a firm grip on the Quaffle even when it was slippery with rain water. When he flew closer to the ground she caught glimpses of the focused, determined expression he always wore when his mind was on Quidditch. She felt a rush of pride when he scored another goal or executed a neat pass to a teammate or dodged a Bludger that she hadn't even seen coming. He's so bloody talented, she thought, feeling a new appreciation for the long hours James had spent training for this match.
"I think the Seekers have spotted the Snitch," Peter said, pointing up into the sky as two blurred figures raced across the pitch.
The conversation broke off as everyone watched the two Seekers pursue the Snitch, but after a minute it appeared they had lost sight of it in the rain, and everyone breathed a sigh of mingled relief and disappointment.
"Seven better get that bloody Snitch," Sirius muttered, still watching Regulus circle the pitch even though the Snitch was nowhere in sight. His fingers drummed a restless rhythm against his leg until Mary reached for his hand and guided it back under the blanket.
"Seven will be fine," Peter said, taking a sip from the flask and offering it to Sirius. "Prongs isn't worried about her at all."
Lily glanced at Remus and saw a hint of pride flit across his face before he hid it behind a neutral expression. Like hers, his eyes had hardly left the sky, although they were fixed on the movements of a different Gryffindor player. Smiling to herself, she turned her attention back to James, who was now trailing after a Slytherin Chaser trying to regain control of the Quaffle.
"Don't look so dark and broody, Black." Mary said, nudging her shoulder into his. "Come on, let's make up a drinking game or get a chant going or something. We need something to distract us from the rain. Don't you think, Lily?"
Lily had a vague sense that she needed to respond, but then James darted in between two of the Slytherin Chasers to intercept a pass and she let out an involuntary squeal of excitement.
"What?" she asked when she realized Mary was looking at her with amusement.
"I've just never known you to be this interested in Quidditch," Mary said, smirking. "Have you, Black?"
"Maybe that time we came out to watch a practice and Prongs took his shirt off," Sirius said, and he took his eyes off of Regulus to flash a teasing grin at Lily. "Moony's uncharacteristically invested in the match as well."
Remus had been craning his neck to watch Seven hover on the other end of the pitch, but he tore his gaze away and gave Sirius a rude hand gesture. Peter watched this exchange with amusement, then leaned across Remus to talk to Mary and Sirius.
"What's that chant you came up with a couple of years ago? I can't remember how it went, but I remember the Slytherins bloody hated it."
"McGonagall told us off for that chant," Remus said. "Remember? She threatened to eject you from the match if you didn't stop, because you kept starting it up again when she went back to her seat."
"Rubbish," Sirius said, and an enthusiastic grin replaced the remaining moodiness on his face. "She loved that chant. She only made us stop because Slughorn complained."
"That's not how I remember it," Remus said, shaking his head.
"There was a song as well, wasn't there?" Peter said.
"Damn right there was." Sirius took another sip from the flask and draped his arm around Mary. "Macdonald, I'm going to teach you my Quidditch song. I wish I brought my ukulele, because I feel like that would really get the crowd going."
"Oh, Merlin, what have we done?" Remus said, helping himself to the flask while Peter Summoned the ukulele and presented it to a beaming Sirius.
Lily smiled to herself, keeping her eyes on James while Sirius's enthusiastic singing and strumming mingled with the shouts and cheers from the students around them.
The wind pummeled James's face and icy water dripped from his hair and robes, but he fixed all of his concentration on the Quaffle in his hand and the locations of the other players around him. The heavy rain obscured his vision, so he had to rely on shouts and signals from his teammates. The Bludgers were impossible to see in this weather, and there had already been a close call when Farley had failed to notice an approaching Bludger and only happened to dart out of the way in time. A faint, distant part of James's brain wished he could catch a glimpse of Lily's face lit up with pride or worry or joy or some combination of emotions, but he shoved that thought aside, resolving to concentrate on the match. A flash of red to his left alerted him that Bubbles had overtaken one of the Slytherin Chasers, and he shouted to him before tossing him the Quaffle. He heard the satisfying sound of the ball meeting gloved hands, and he strained to hear the even more satisfying sound that signalled a goal. Instead, there was a shrill blast of the whistle and an eruption of cheers and boos from the crowd. James gazed around in confusion before he spotted Seven flying towards him, her tiny hand clutched around a struggling Snitch.
"Seven, you're bloody unbelievable!" he shouted, grinning and gesturing for everyone to gather on the ground.
When they had all landed in a soaked, joyful heap, he embraced Seven and flashed the rest of the team an appreciative smile before climbing back onto his broom and kicking off into the air.
"Where're you going?" Bubbles asked, but James merely pointed at the Gryffindor stands before he flew over and hovered just in front of his friends.
"Prongs!" Sirius had Mary sitting on his shoulders, and he somehow managed to play the ukulele while keeping a grip on her legs at the same time. "You were brilliant! Could you hear us singing? I did a Sonorous but McGonagall came and told us off."
"I did hear it, a bit," James said, grinning. "Really helped motivate me to get that last goal. Can you do one last verse while I take Evans for a lap around?"
Lily looked at him with the flask frozen halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"Hop on," he said, gesturing at the back of his broom and dipping lower to make it easier for her to climb on behind him. "I told you, we're doing a victory lap."
She sat there staring at him with a bemused smile on her face, and he noticed that the rain had soaked the edges of her sleeves that were not covered by the umbrella. He reached for her hands to guide her onto the broom, and she climbed up and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Your hands are freezing," he said, rubbing them to warm them before he had to pull his hands away to grip his broom. "Feel free to slip them inside my pockets or under my shirt to keep them warm if you like."
Her breath felt warm against his neck as she laughed, and he felt a rush of pleasure as she slid her hands into his pockets. The roar from the crowd of students was deafening, yet it sounded far away to James. The rain and wind fell away, too, so that all he was aware of was Lily's warmth pressed against his back. I love you, he thought, and he almost spoke the words aloud, almost shouted them loud enough to be heard above the shouts of the celebrating students and the howling wind. Instead, he glanced back at her and grinned.
"Wave to the Slytherins, Evans. They're a bit sad right now and need some cheering up."
The Slytherins below looked sodden and forlorn as James flashed them his cheekiest grin and gave them a thumbs up before heading back to the Gryffindor section. There he executed several impressive dives and twirls in midair, enjoying Lily's little shrieks of excitement and fear. He then turned around to pull her in for a kiss amidst whoops and cheers before landing and leading the way back to the castle to celebrate.
"Stop it, Padfoot! We just changed into dry clothes." Remus shielded his face as Sirius shook out his sopping hair and splattered everyone with droplets of water.
"Your hat stayed nice and dry, though," Mary observed, wringing out her own dripping hair.
Sirius reached for his hat and examined it, nodding in approval before putting it back onto his head. "Waterproofing spell seems to have held up well." He frowned down at his ukulele and used his wand to siphon off some of the excess water. "I should've done one on the ukulele, too."
"Padfoot!" James called from across the room. For some reason he had climbed on top of the sofa and was listening as Seven recounted how she had caught the Snitch. "Are we going to play a game or what?"
"I'm up for it," Sirius replied. "How else are we going to gang up on Moony to get him drunk?"
"Come on." Mary linked her arm through his and led him towards the staircase. "The clothes I want to change into are in your dormitory, and you can get your Exploding Snap cards and more firewhisky."
"Make yourself at home, Macdonald," Sirius said as he followed her up the stairs and into the dormitory. "Just leave your shit everywhere."
She rolled her eyes and reached for the sweatpants she had left draped over Sirius's trunk. "Oh, shut up. You leave your stuff all over the place."
She nodded at the various articles of his clothing scattered around the room, including a pair of pants peeking out from under James's bed, several dirty socks abandoned by the door, and a tie hanging from Peter's bedpost.
"Yeah, yeah," Sirius said, sitting down on his bed and watching in amusement as Mary struggled to remove her wet trousers.
"Fuck," Mary muttered as the trousers caught on her leg and she had to grab the bedpost to avoid toppling over. "Don't laugh at me, Black."
She peeled off the trousers and pulled on the sweatpants before taking a seat next to Sirius and looking over at him. Her eyes swept over him, and he could sense that she was assessing his emotional state, detecting a hint of the sadness masked by anger that had broken through earlier. He normally hated being appraised this way, and yet somehow he didn't mind so much when Mary did it because he knew she wouldn't press him to open up if he didn't want to.
"Do you want to ditch everyone and stay up here and shag all night?" she asked, resting her hand on his leg. "Don't get me wrong, I'm always up for getting drunk, and tonight is shaping up to be excellent, but I just figured, you know, if you weren't in the mood…"
Sirius felt a sudden urge to throw his arms around her, because she was giving him an out without making mention of his obvious tension at the match. He felt absurdly grateful, even though he found that he did not need or want to accept her offer. Just knowing that she understood him enough to offer in an indirect way that did not force him to acknowledge his feelings brought him all the comfort he needed. Grinning, he draped an arm around her and shook his head.
"I'm always up for shagging all night, but Gryffindor did just beat Slytherin, and it is technically my birthday party, so I think we owe it to everyone to kick their arses at Firecracker, don't you?"
"I'd say so." She stood up and began rummaging through Sirius's trunk before pulling out two packs of Exploding Snap cards and a full bottle of firewhisky. "You've got to be on my team, though. I love Remus, but when we teamed up last time Peter practically had to carry me home from Hogsmeade, and I'd really like to be coherent enough to enjoy the fireworks at the end of the night." She raised her eyebrows at him. "We are still doing the fireworks, right? Even though McGonagall specifically said not to when she came over to tell us off for singing during the match?"
Sirius got to his feet, then took the bottle of firewhisky from her and helped himself to a sip. "Of course we're doing the bloody fireworks. Now come on, let's go show those tossers how to win at Firecracker."
When they reached the common room, James had the entire Quidditch team and a few extras gathered around as he explained the rules of Firecracker. Sirius sat down in his usual chair, which had been left empty out of courtesy, and Mary squeezed in next to him. They watched in amusement as James tried to demonstrate how to spin a Knut but ended up hitting Remus in the head. Repressing her laughter, Lily retrieved the Knut and demonstrated the correct technique while Remus shot James a rude hand gesture. Once James finished explaining the rules they divided into teams and Sirius reached for the first card, but James held up his hand when he noticed Kath seated on the floor to his left.
"Sorry, Kath, but you can't play," James said, flashing her an apologetic grin. "We invented this game with the aim of getting everyone irresponsibly drunk. Even I wouldn't feel right about letting a first year participate."
"Oh, come on, let me have a go," she pleaded, holding up the butterbeer in her hand. "I'll play with this. Everyone else on the team is playing, and I think I'd be really good at flicking the little parchment triangles."
James sighed, then relented when Kath continued to stare at him with a hopeful, pleading gaze. "Yeah, all right. You can be on my team. But I'd better not see you take even a sip of firewhisky, or you'll be running sprints before practice for the rest of the year." He nodded at Sirius. "Go ahead, Padfoot."
Sirius plucked a card from the center tower and held it up, grinning. "Sevenses chooseses. Prongs, you can have the first drink of the evening."
As Sirius had expected, the night quickly evolved into wild, drunken fuckery. Several people lost eyebrows when the cards exploded, Bubbles had to bolt to the bathroom to vomit after a waterfall did not go as planned, and Remus once again knocked over several cards with the sleeve of his jumper, to the chagrin of everyone on his team. As the only sober player, Kath was the only one who retained any sense, and she let out a triumphant cheer every time her parchment triangle knocked over the other team's cards. They finally had to bring the game to a halt when the cards sparked yet again and Peter's trousers caught fire, causing Sirius to laugh so hard his cowboy hat fell off and knocked over the entire center tower.
"Fucking hell, how many drinks is that worth?" Sirius gasped, wiping away tears of laughter as he bent to pick up his cowboy hat.
James handed him the firewhisky bottle and clapped him on the back. "It's almost empty, you may as well finish it off."
Sirius shrugged and downed the rest of the bottle, grimacing as the liquor burned his throat. "Should we set the cards up again, or do you think everyone's too drunk?"
"I'm up for another game," Kath said, but she seemed to be the only player still capable of a coherent response.
"Is it time for fireworks yet?" Lily asked. She wore a bemused smile and she kept running her hand through James's hair in a perfect imitation of his familiar habit.
"Not yet, Evans," Sirius said, struggling to get to his feet and sending a few stray Exploding Snap cards fluttering to the floor. "That's for the end of the night, and I'm not ready for the night to be over." He bent to retrieve his cowboy hat, then placed it onto Remus's head. Remus had his head bent close to Seven, smiling as he whispered something to her, and it took him a moment to realize the hat was on his head.
"How do I look?" he asked Seven as he reached up to adjust the hat.
Seven appraised him, grinning. "You look…"
"The phrase you're looking for is 'bloody excellent,' Seven," Sirius said. "Now hang on while I turn up the music. My birthday will not be complete until I see Lily Evans dance and sing on top of a table."
"I can't just do that on command," Lily protested, giggling. "The mood has to be right. It's got to be the right song-"
She broke off as the glissando at the beginning of "Dancing Queen" cut through the chatter of the common room, and Sirius turned to her with a triumphant expression on his face as she got to her feet and hopped on top of the table.
"Don't underestimate me, Evans. I know which songs you can't resist," he said, leaning against the arm of her abandoned chair.
"Get up here, Sirius. I know you love this song, too," she said, reaching down and pulling him up beside her before he had a chance to protest, then offering him her wand to use as a microphone. Without missing a beat, Sirius began to sing the next line, imitating Lily's dance moves and reveling in that carefree, drunken feeling that came from abandoning all inhibitions and acting like a complete idiot. Because bloody hell, she was right, he did love that song.
"You come up too, Moony," Sirius urged after a moment, and although Remus sighed and rolled his eyes, he was already getting to his feet and climbing up to join his two friends. "You can't wear that hat and not sing 'Dancing Queen.'" Sirius threw his arm around Remus and moved the wand over so they could all share the microphone as they sang, "And when you get the chance, you are the dancing queen…"
After several more singalongs, a quick trip to the kitchens for snacks, and a game of pass that ended when James jumped to catch the Quaffle and knocked over an armchair, everyone collapsed into their usual spots to regroup. Sirius glanced at his watch and nodded as though coming to an important decision.
"Right, I think it's time for the fireworks. You coming, Prongs?" When James didn't reply, Sirius gave his shoulder a gentle nudge.
James had been resting his head against Lily's shoulder with his eyes half-closed as she ran her hands through his hair, but he picked his head up when he felt Sirius's touch. "What?"
Sirius chuckled and shook his head, then heaved himself to his feet. "I asked if you wanted to come set off the fireworks, but you were too busy looking like a prat while Evans played with your hair to listen properly."
"Oh, sod you, I'm coming," James said, giving Lily a quick kiss before extricating himself from her and standing up to join Sirius. "Anyone else want to come?"
Lily shook her head, settling into the armchair and curling her legs beneath her.
"No thanks, Peter's giving me chess pointers," Mary said, giggling as she tried to move a pawn but ended up knocking several pieces over.
Remus and Seven were seated on a blanket by the fire, their knees almost touching although they were both pretending not to notice. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they did not appear to hear James's question.
"Here, Wormtail, take the mirror," Sirius said as he pulled the two-way mirror from his pocket and set it down on the table in front of Peter. "We'll let you know when it's time to look out the window." He jumped up onto an armchair and waved to get the attention of the few Gryffindors who had not gone to bed. "Oi, listen up everyone! In a few minutes we're going to set off an arseload of fireworks, so Peter here is going to tell you when to look out the window. Fair warning, Minnie's probably going to come tell us off for it, so you may want to clear off to bed once they're finished so you can feign innocence."
Kath's face lit up as she stopped strumming Ukiluki's guitar and dashed over to the window to ensure she would get a good view. Sirius grinned and nodded at James, who picked up the box of fireworks they had stashed by the stairs before heading out of the common room and in the direction of the Astronomy Tower. They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sleepy, hushed atmosphere of the castle at night. The shuffle of their footsteps was the only sound until they reached the Astronomy Tower and heard the howl of the wind. The rain had stopped, but the air had grown even colder. James set down the box of fireworks and Sirius lit a cigarette, and they both sat down and leaned against the cold stone of the wall to shelter from the wind.
"That was a hell of a party," Sirius said, shielding his cigarette from a strong gust of wind. "Might be the best game of Firecracker we've ever played, except maybe the game at the Hog's Head."
"I'm still sad I missed that," James said.
Sirius grinned and exhaled, watching the smoke disappear into the night. "Yeah, but you had better things to do that day."
James ran a hand through his hair and nodded, a dreamy smile spreading across his face. "That's true." He looked up at the bleak sky for a moment, then continued, "Evans is so bloody great. Sometimes I still can't believe we're actually going out, that Lily Evans likes me and wants to hold my hand and go into Hogsmeade with me and shag me. It blows my mind a bit, it really does."
Sirius took a drag on his cigarette and shrugged. "I expect your Quidditch muscles and hilarious, handsome best mate help her look past your bloody stupid hair."
James laughed and shoved him. "Sod you. Evans loves my hair." He ran a hand through his hair as if to demonstrate his point, then hesitated before adding, "I'm in love with her. You know that, and Moony and Wormtail know that, but I don't think Evans knows. I really want to tell her, but do you reckon it's too soon?"
Sirius grinned as he took in the uncertainty creasing James's face, because only Lily Evans could break down his friend's unshakeable confidence like that.
"Merlin, Prongs, I dunno. I'm the last fucking person you should be asking for advice about this, seeing as I don't believe in telling people how I feel."
"Sure you do. You just need half a bottle of firewhisky to do it," James said, undeterred. "Macdonald pretty much lives in our dormitory these days, and she made sure you had a good birthday, and I've seen her calm you down after a terrible Chudley Cannons match, which I suppose is redundant, seeing as every match they play is terrible-"
"Prongs," Sirius said, glaring at him.
"Point is, you can't sit here and tell me you're not in love with her. I know you, Padfoot. So maybe you should tell her. Maybe it's time for both of us to lay it all out there."
Sirius continued to glare at James, but he turned the words over in his mind anyway. He thought of the flash of anger and sadness that had nearly crippled him during the Quidditch game, and the vague sense of melancholy that had lingered with him despite his loud, drunken antics that masked his true feelings. An image filled his head, Mary seated on his bed and peering at him with concern before she offered to ditch the party and spend the night in bed with him instead. He sighed, realizing the eager, expectant look on James's face was not going to disappear on its own.
"Right, Prongs, this isn't a direct answer, and it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I'm just going to say this, because I'm drunk and know I've got to give you something so you'll stop bothering me." He lit another cigarette and took a drag, then went on. "Earlier during the match I couldn't stop watching bloody Regulus, and it made me remember something I haven't thought about in years. When we were really young we went to my uncle's place - he had a big manor way out in the country - and he taught us both to fly. I thought it was brilliant, but Reg was bloody terrified and wouldn't even get on his broom. Uncle Alphard kept trying to coax him to try it, but if you want to get Regulus to do something you've got to be a bit forceful. So I sort of shouted at him and told him to stop being a crybaby and just ride the broom already or I'd hex him. Never mind that I was too young to do any proper magic and didn't even have a wand."
"Minor details," James said, grinning.
Sirius nodded. "Exactly. So our uncle basically told me not to be such a shit, but then he shut his
mouth when Regulus got on his broom and flew around the entire field like he'd been flying his whole life." The memory brought a bittersweet smile to Sirius's face, but it faltered as he continued to speak. "Anyway, I was thinking about that, and then I got to thinking that maybe if I'd been a bit more forceful I could have convinced him to leave Grimmauld Place with me and he wouldn't have gotten involved in the fucking awul shit he's wrapped up in now."
"Padfoot," James began, but Sirius held up a hand.
"And then I realized I was sitting there at a Quidditch match, half-drunk and sad and wanting to punch something when I was meant to be cheering on Gryffindor and watching my best mate put those Quidditch muscles to good use, so I tried to forget about it. And I did, for the most part, except I couldn't quite shake that sad, angry feeling, even though getting drunk and singing and playing the ukulele helped distract me. And Macdonald must've sensed I was a bit off, because when we got back to the dormitory she offered to skip the party and spend the night shagging me."
"Nice of her to offer," James said. "Although the party wouldn't have been the same without you."
"I know," Sirius said, glancing sideways at him and grinning. "And it wasn't that I actually wanted to skip the party. It was more just that she noticed something was wrong without me having to say anything, and instead of asking me a bunch of questions and demanding I share my feelings, she offered to shag me senseless all night, which is really the best way to cheer me up. It's even more effective than getting me drunk."
James nodded. "I'll keep that in mind next time you're having a bad day."
"Nah, your arse is far too flat for my taste," Sirius said, smirking. "Anyway, I declined her offer and we went down to the party, obviously, so I don't know why I'm even telling you this."
"Sure you do," James said, running a hand through his hair and grinning. "You're telling me this because it shows how well Macdonald understands you and cares about you and knows how to handle you without setting you off or making you close up. And you love her for that. And she's always up for a shag or getting drunk, and you love her for that, too."
"I didn't say that," Sirius said, scowling.
"You did, though," James said, getting to his feet and offering Sirius a hand up. "In a roundabout, drunken Sirius Black sort of way."
"Sod you," Sirius muttered, heaving himself to his feet and continuing to glare at James. After a moment he sighed and added, "You might want to wait a bit to tell Evans. Not that she doesn't feel the same way, because she obviously does, but she does get a bit panicky if things happen too fast."
James nodded. "Yeah, you're right. See? You're better at this than you give yourself credit for. Now come on. Let's set off an arseload of fireworks and bring the wrath of Minerva McGonagall down upon us."
"Look at them." Mary nudged Peter and cast a meaningful glance at Remus and Seven. They were still absorbed in their own conversation and seemed unaware that they were not the only two people in the room, and Mary had a strong suspicion that they were holding hands underneath the blanket that covered their laps. "I'm so happy for them. I just want to give them both a hug and then watch them get really uncomfortable when Sirius asks them about their sex life. Don't you, Lily?"
When Lily did not reply, Peter stood up to peer at her and grinned. "She's asleep. I'll let her sleep for a minute and then wake her up when it's time for the fireworks." He settled back down next to Mary. "You've all done a better job than I thought you would keeping it a secret that you know. Even if you have had a couple of close calls."
"How're you so good at keeping quiet?" she demanded. "You've known for ages and haven't said a thing. Isn't it driving you mad?"
Peter shrugged. "Not really. I'm just good at keeping my mouth shut, I suppose." He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then lowered his voice even more. "I haven't told anyone what you told me the night we got kicked out of the Hog's Head, either. I've been meaning to tell you that, in case you were worried about it."
She reached for her drink and took a sip, frowning at him. "What did I tell you?"
His eyes widened. "You don't remember?"
"Nope," she said, shaking her head and sending her curls tumbling into her face. "I don't really remember the walk back at all. Oh, was it something about your pajamas? Because I really do like the pink ones, and I don't mind if you tell people that."
He smiled, but Mary noticed a hint of apprehension in his face. "No, it wasn't that, but if you don't remember then it doesn't matter."
"Come on, tell me," she urged, straining to piece together the vague, foggy bits of memory from that night. She could recall clinking her glass against Remus's before doing their third waterfall of the evening, but that was her last clear memory until Sirius had carried her up to the common room later. It frustrated her, because she usually remembered everything after a night of heavy drinking, and the missing hour nagged at her, floating just out of reach like one of James's escaped Snitches.
"You said you'd hex me if I ever repeated it to anyone," Peter said, looking sheepish.
"Don't be stupid, of course I wouldn't-"
She broke off and clapped a hand over her mouth, because his words had sparked a vivid flash of memory. The sharp scent of the firewhisky that soaked her hair filled her nostrils, and she felt the cold bite of the wind that crept in through her thin leather jacket. The warmth of Peter's arm around her waist and the unfamiliar but pleasant scent of his soap and the sound of Sirius's laughter, all of it came rushing back to her in such exquisite detail that it seemed impossible she had not remembered it just moments ago. She felt the collar of Peter's shirt against her hands as she had leaned in to whisper in his ear, and the words she had murmured echoed in her head. Your mate's a bloody idiot, but you know something? I'm in love with him. Don't repeat that, Peter, or I swear I'll hex you and steal your favorite pajamas.
"Oh, fuck," she breathed, resting her head in her hands. "Merlin, drunk Mary has a big mouth."
"You do remember, then?" Peter studied her, a hesitant expression on his face as he tried to gauge her reaction. "Well, like I said, I'm not going to say anything, because it's not my secret to tell, and despite what you just said, I don't quite trust you not to hex me."
Mary didn't reply, choosing instead to sit there twirling a strand of hair around her finger while she berated herself for drinking too much and voicing feelings that should remain unspoken and ignored.
"But I think maybe you should tell him," Peter continued. "I know you two like to pretend you're just friends who shag, and that you don't have feelings, but I think he should know that you feel that way about him."
The alcohol had softened the edges of his words and made them less offensive to Mary than they would be under more sober circumstances. She stopped playing with her hair and reached for her drink, gripping the glass in her hand without taking a sip.
"I have told him," she said, and her voice was so soft that he had to lean closer to hear her. "Well, I dunno. Sort of."
He chuckled. "Great, that's clear, then. I understand perfectly now."
She sighed, a resigned smile forming on her lips. "You know that night this summer when he crashed his motorbike? He called me from a Muggle pay phone, drunk off his arse, and told me he had feelings for me."
Peter's eyes widened. "What?" he exclaimed before clapping his hand over his mouth, but Lily was still fast asleep and Remus and Seven had their heads bent close together, still oblivious to everything around them.
Mary nodded and took a sip of her drink, hoping the alcohol would make the story easier to tell. "Yeah. Like a full on drunken confession. I didn't know what to say, just stood there holding the phone like a bloody idiot. When I finally wrapped my head around what he'd said, I, er, told him I felt the same way. He was on his way to my flat to see me, except he crashed and never made it." She shook her head and sighed. "Bloody idiot. I told him not to drive."
Peter waited for her to go on, but when she remained silent he made a little impatient sound and said, "So what happened?"
She set down her drink and wrapped a curl around and around her finger, remembering the wild excitement that had faded to worry and disappointment as she waited in vain for the sound of Sirius's motorbike outside the window of her cramped flat. "Nothing. We never talked about it. I assume he doesn't remember the conversation, and I just never brought it up."
Peter gaped at her for a moment, his face full of incredulous indignation. "Never? But why not?"
She shrugged. "Like I said, I reckon he doesn't remember. And he might feel differently when he hasn't had most of a bottle of firewhisky."
Another memory flooded her brain, and she hovered on the edge of letting it tumble out. Peter must have seen something in her face, because he raised his eyebrows and poured a bit more into both of their glasses.
"There's more, isn't there? Come on, out with it, Macdonald. I'm good at keeping my mouth shut."
She sighed again and took another sip of her drink. "The night of the Quidditch tryouts, after Remus and I carried Black up to bed, he, er, said something."
Peter fixed her with an expectant look, and after a moment she took a deep breath and went on.
"He was, well, what he would call irresponsibly drunk. Probably the drunkest I've ever seen him. And he was half asleep, and sometimes I think I just imagined it, but he said…" Her voice trailed off and she hesitated, afraid to speak the words aloud when she had barely allowed herself to acknowledge them since that night she had fallen asleep turning them over in her head. "He told me he loved me."
Peter's eyes grew so wide that Mary had an urge to laugh, even though the situation was not at all humorous.
"Macdonald!" he exclaimed, fighting to keep his voice low despite his obvious excitement. "Did you say it back?"
"Yeah, but by the time I'd worked up the nerve he'd already fallen asleep," Mary said, remembering how the pounding of her heart had drowned out the sound of his slow, rhythmic breathing. "And don't bother asking if we talked about it the next day, because he doesn't remember the second half of that night, and I wasn't going to bring it up, because I dunno if he actually meant it."
"He meant it," Peter said, his blue eyes earnest. "That's when Sirius is the most honest and genuine, when he's drunk."
"He did say something to that effect," Mary mused, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "The next morning. I told him all these things he'd said, like how Remus looks great naked and how he'd love to moon Walburga, and he said he still stood by all of it, because if he says something drunk he usually means it. But I wasn't sure if that extended to, you know, the other bit."
"He meant it," Peter repeated. "He doesn't just say stuff like that if he doesn't mean it. Bloody hell, I don't think I've ever heard him say 'I love you' to anyone, even Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and he thinks of them like parents." His tone darkened as he continued, "I don't reckon Walburga or Orion ever said it to him growing up, so it's just not something he feels comfortable saying. So if he told you he loves you, he loves you, even if he was drunk and doesn't remember saying it. Being drunk was probably the only thing that allowed him to say it, because sober he'd just consider it, you know-"
"A sentimental sod thing to say?" Mary finished, grinning.
Peter returned her grin and nodded. "Yeah, something like that. And don't tell him I said this, because he'd be bloody furious, but I also think he'd be too afraid to say it sober, in case you didn't feel the same way."
Mary stared at him, studying his face for any hint that he was joking. She tried to imagine Sirius agonizing over whether she would return his feelings, but that seemed incompatible with his confident grin and dismissal of traditional relationships.
"Really? I can't imagine him feeling insecure about, well, about anything, really."
Peter laughed and took a sip of his drink. "Course he is. He's good at hiding it, and he'd never admit it, but yeah, he's insecure about certain things. We all are." When his statement was met with an expression of doubt, he went on, "I mean, look at James. Bloody Quidditch star and top of the year, and he fell apart when Evans said she couldn't be with him. And Remus…" He glanced sideways at Remus and smiled as he noticed him still deep in conversation with Seven, their heads bent so close together that their noses were almost touching. "Well, he's constantly expecting to be rejected, because of, well, you know."
Mary watched him trace the ring of moisture left behind by his glass. "And what about you?"
He raised his eyebrows. "What about me?"
"What are you insecure about?"
She wouldn't normally pry like this, but something about the crackle of the fire and the burn of the firewhisky and the intimacy of the conversation made her bold.
Peter looked at her for a moment with a dubious expression on his face before snorting with laughter. "Me? Bloody everything!"
She frowned. "Why?"
"I mean, look at me." When she just stared at him he took another sip of his drink and continued. "Well, James and Sirius are incredibly talented, and they don't even really have to work at it to learn really advanced, complex spells. Moony has to work hard, but he's really good, too, at everything besides Potions. James is brilliant at Quidditch, and Sirius has a bloody flying motorbike, and they're funny and charming and good-looking." Mary noticed that he said this last bit with a touch of self-consciousness. "And people love them. Remus doesn't realize it, but people love him too. Everyone loves Moony, because how can you not? And Prongs has Evans, and Padfoot has Macdonald, and now Moony has Seven, even though we're not meant to know about it, and, I dunno, I'm the one who's just sort of there, tagging along. I know people look at the four of us and wonder what the hell I'm doing there, why the hell they keep me around."
His voice trailed off, and Mary detected the breathless, deflated feeling that came from a drunken discussion of a topic that would not otherwise be mentioned out loud. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright, but he kept his eyes fixed on hers instead of looking at the table or his hands like he usually would. She hesitated for a moment, letting his words fill her head as she took in the vulnerability and sadness lurking behind his self-deprecating smile and the uncertainty that he tried to drown with another sip of firewhisky. Then, without considering why she was doing it or whether her actions would be welcome, she leaned forward and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a clumsy, drunken hug and eliciting a startled sound from Peter.
"What was that for?" Peter asked, chuckling as Mary pulled away.
Mary opened her mouth to respond before realizing Remus and Seven were watching them, looking both puzzled and amused. "Peter's just told me I'm getting better at chess," she said, giving them a thumbs up before turning back to Peter and lowering her voice. "Peter Penelope Pettigrew, you listen to me. You are a lovely person and an excellent friend and the best chess player I've ever met, and the only one of us who's any good at doing magic drunk. And you're so bloody encouraging. You're always cheering the others on or telling me and Black that we're not so bad at chess, even though if the roles were reversed Black wouldn't hesitate to tell you you're absolute bloody rubbish. You're the glue that holds the group together, in my opinion, and they love you. Lily and I do too. So don't tell me you're just sort of there or that you don't belong, because you do."
There was a moment of silence punctuated by the sound of Seven's laughter, and Peter's eyes were so full of surprised gratitude that Mary was afraid he might cry. Instead, he shoved aside the complicated emotions and replaced them with a grin.
"That sounded a bit like a James Potter pep talk," he said, draining the last of his drink. "I think he's rubbing off on you."
She grinned and nodded. "Merlin, you're right." She raked a hand through her hair and attempted the signature tousled, windswept Potter hair look. "How's this?"
Peter chuckled. "Brilliant." His face turned serious as he rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment before adding, "Thanks. I know you probably just said all of that because you're drunk and wanted to make me feel better, but either way, I appreciate it."
"You're welcome. But I'm like Black. I mean what I say drunk. And you know what else, I had a conversation with Black last year where he told me what a good friend you are." She frowned, straining to push through her alcohol-addled thoughts to remember that day. "Something about how loyal you are, and how you always side with your friends, even if they're wrong. But I was never supposed to tell you he said that because it would ruin his reputation."
"How drunk was he when he said this?" Peter asked, grinning.
"Drunk enough," Mary said, remembering how they had both stumbled down to dinner and caused a scene when Sirius knocked Peter's plate onto the floor and Mary had exited her seat by climbing underneath the table. "So you know he really meant it."
"I suppose that's true." Peter looked as though he wanted to say more, but before he had a chance the two-way mirror that rested on the table emitted a loud, "Peter Pettigrew!" and they both glanced down at it to see Sirius's face grinning out at them.
"It's fireworks time," Sirius said. "Wake up Moony and get your arses over to the window."
"It's Lily who's sleeping, actually," Peter said, watching as Mary stood to go rouse her sleeping friend. "But we'll be ready at the window in a minute." He stood and waved at Remus and Seven, then hurried over to tell the few remaining Gryffindors before joining everyone at the window to watch the fireworks display.
"Be honest, were those the best fireworks you've ever seen in your life?" Sirius stood in front of Mary's armchair, noticing the way her hair fell into her face but did not hide her sleepy, drunken smile or the way her eyes kept drifting shut.
"Nah, none of them spelled out 'Padfoot Smells,'" she said, chuckling. "Do you want to sit down? Or should we head up to bed in case McGonagall comes to tell you off for the fireworks?"
Sirius considered this, frowning. "I honestly think she'd be here already if she wanted to tell us off. Most likely she went to sleep with earplugs and is just going to save the telling off until tomorrow." He grabbed a blanket from the back of Remus's empty chair and threw it over James and Lily, who had curled up together on James's armchair and immediately fallen asleep, then took Remus's second blanket and spread it on the floor in front of the fire with two pillows. "I don't much fancy climbing the stairs right now, and the fire's so cozy."
Mary smiled as Sirius helped her to her feet, then they both settled on the floor in front of the fire with their arms thrown over each other and their faces resting close together. A strand of Mary's hair tickled Sirius's face, and he could smell the firewhisky on her breath as he leaned in to kiss her. The heat of the fire was already warming her skin as he slipped a hand under her shirt to rest on the small of her back, and he closed his eyes in contentment as she began to trace the scar on his chest. The moment felt peaceful and familiar and absolutely perfect, and his conversation with James returned to him as he watched Mary nestle closer to him. For one wild moment he considered following James's advice and pressing his lips close to Mary's ear to let the words tumble out. He moved his head to do so, but at the last second he changed his mind and kissed her forehead instead.
"Thanks, Macdonald," he whispered, adjusting his arm so it would not fall asleep when they inevitably drifted off in this position.
"What for?" she murmured without opening her eyes.
"For being a good friend," he said.
The words seemed an inadequate way to describe her thoughtful, subtle efforts to cheer him up and the way she managed to look out for him without making him feel coddled, stifled, or pressured to share his feelings. Yet she seemed to understand everything he had left unspoken as well as his need to remain silent on these matters, because she opened her eyes and looked at him in silence for a moment. He could sense her own unspoken feelings in the crease of her forehead and the emotion lurking in her tired eyes, but then she blinked and the expression disappeared, replaced by a smile. She leaned in and kissed him softly before draping her leg over his.
"You're welcome," she said, her words so faint that he had to strain to hear. "Good night, Black."
"Night, Macdonald," Sirius said, musing that perhaps they didn't need to speak those words aloud. Maybe they could communicate mutual feelings that were too complex to discuss in the meaningful looks and pointed silences that often said more than actual words. He wondered if he had properly interpreted the emotion on Mary's face, but he fell asleep before he had time to come to a definite answer.