Monday, November 21, 1977
Sirius stretched out his legs in front of him and yawned, then leaned back against Mary's legs and reached for her hand, resting it on his head.
"Is this your way of asking me to play with your hair?" Mary asked, grinning.
He turned around to face her and feigned indifference. "I mean, if you're dying to play with my hair, I'm not opposed to it."
"You're right, I'm just dying to play with your hair." She sighed and set down the textbook she had been attempting to read and began to run her fingers through Sirius's hair.
As he closed his eyes and enjoyed the rhythmic motion of her fingers against his scalp, he considered confessing the feelings that had been rolling around his head since the previous day. He had toyed with the idea all day, waiting for something to spur him into action and convince him the time was right. There had been plenty of opportunity earlier: James had Quidditch practice, Remus was absorbed in a book, and Lily and Peter had disappeared, although Sirius hadn't been paying attention and couldn't say where they had gone. He had cast several surreptitious glances at Mary, and once he got as far as asking her to smoke a cigarette with him. The words were right there, tumbling around his head and clamoring to be spoken, but something held him back, and he had been sneaking sips from his flask in the hopes that the alcohol would loosen his tongue and his inhibitions.
Shortly after Lily and Peter returned with a pile of snacks, James joined them, greeting Lily with a kiss before collapsing down into his chair with a sigh.
"How was practice?" Remus asked, eying the portrait hole with a hopeful smile on his face.
"Good," James said, exchanging a knowing look with the rest of the group. "We got a lot done. What've you been up to tonight, Moony?"
"Not bad," Remus said, his eyes still trained on the portrait hole.
Peter frowned. "Moony," he began, sounding puzzled, but James shook his head and held up a hand.
"Moony, I'm thinking of leaving the Quidditch team, actually. I'd like to devote more time to my studies and being a better Head Boy. What do you think?"
"Yeah, all right," Remus said.
Seven had just entered the common room, and his face lit up as he watched her give him a tiny wave before going over to join her friends. He only tore his gaze away when the rest of the group burst into laughter.
"What're you laughing about?" he asked, looking from James to the others in bewilderment. "Sorry, I guess I wasn't really listening."
James looked across the room at Seven and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, we've gathered that."
Remus sighed, seeing that same knowing expression mirrored in all of their faces. "I suppose it's useless to keep pretending you don't all know about me and Seven," he said, his voice resigned. "But before you start clapping me on the back and interrogating me about my sex life, can we just agree not to make a big thing about this?"
He looked around at them all, laughing as he took in James, grinning so widely his face looked like it might split in half, and Peter, visibly resisting the urge to jump out of his chair.
"We're just really bloody happy for you," Sirius said, exasperated that Remus was not as excited about this as everyone else was.
"I know," Remus said. "And I appreciate it. You're such great friends to be so encouraging and enthusiastic, even when you ask me things that make me so bloody uncomfortable."
Sirius looked back at Mary, and they exchanged a guilty smirk.
"But I'd just prefer it if we acted like you've known about it all along without making a big fuss, all right?" Remus continued, and before anyone could argue, he stood up and slipped his book into his back pocket. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Moony, wait!" Sirius called, and Remus turned, halfway across the common room to the sofa where Seven sat with her friends. "Sauce?" Sirius mouthed, raising his eyebrows, and after a moment's hesitation, Remus grinned and nodded before continuing over to talk to Seven.
"Way to go, Moony," Sirius said, watching Remus and Seven head out of the common room together.
The brief exchange left him smiling, and somehow seeing his friend's happiness gave him the push he needed to put aside his reservations.
"Macdonald, do you want to go upstairs?" he asked, turning around to look at her. "I don't want to be upright anymore."
He was going to stop hesitating and overthinking and just do this, and if it ended in disaster, fuck it. At least he had tried. His heart was pounding, but he also felt strangely calm and detached. The flask still rested in his pocket, half-full, but he found he didn't even need it.
"I do, but I think I'm too lazy to even walk up the stairs," Mary said, casting a dubious glance over her shoulder at the staircase. "Want to just lay on the floor in front of the fire?"
Sirius heaved himself to his feet and grabbed the blanket that was draped over Remus's empty chair, then spread it on the floor in front of the fire and sprawled out.
"Prongs, you and Evans can go upstairs if you like," Sirius offered, moving over to make room for Mary as she settled in next to him. "We'll stay down here for a while."
James and Lily looked at each other before flashing Sirius a grateful grin and waving as they headed for the staircase.
"Go with doggy style, Prongs," Sirius shouted as they disappeared from view.
"Sod you!" Lily called back, and her words mingled with the sound of James's laughter.
"She says that like they're not going to take your advice," Mary remarked, chuckling and Summoning a pillow to place under their heads. "I'm surprised you didn't say that to Remus, actually."
"Yeah, well, I'm trying to go easy on him to start," Sirius said as he draped an arm around Mary's waist. "Pete, if I fall asleep will you wake me up when Moony comes back so I can bother him a bit more?"
Peter looked up from the essay he had been plugging away at and nodded. "I wouldn't ask about specific positions just yet, though," he said, grinning. "You'll need to ease into that."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Sirius nodded at the essay. "You doing all right with that?"
Peter sighed. "I'll manage, I just need to buckle down and focus for a bit."
"We won't bother you, then," Sirius said.
He edged a bit closer to the fire, tugging Mary along with him, then pressed his lips close to her ear.
"Macdonald," he began, keeping his voice at a murmur so nobody would overhear. "Do you remember what you said to me the other night at the Three Broomsticks?"
Don't think about it. Don't worry about what she's going to say. Just fucking say it, you prat.
She rolled over to face him and rested her forehead against his chest. He inhaled the scent of her hair, and the familiar smell of Sleekeazy's made him feel calmer.
"I remember bits of our conversation, but I think gin really fucks with me, because there's a lot that's just blank," she admitted. "Why, what did I say?"
He could hear her words in his head, slurred and mumbled and startlingly honest: And really we could both do whatever we like with anyone, if we felt like it. But I don't want to. And I haven't for a while. Do you know why, Black?
"Rosmerta interrupted, but I think you were trying to tell me you want to be exclusive," he said, letting the words tumble out before he had time to second guess himself. "And it seemed like you were about to, er, talk about your feelings. Your feelings about me." He twirled one of her curls around his finger, taking comfort from the repetitive gesture. "And I didn't have a chance to give you any sort of response, to tell you how I feel, but…"
His voice trailed off as the words caught in his throat, and he took several deep breaths, willing himself to speak. He knew what he wanted to say and could hear the words in his head, so why did it feel impossible to force them out of his mouth? I should be more drunk for this, he realized. Why the fuck did I think I could do this after only a few sips of firewhisky?
"Merlin, I must've been drunker than I thought," Mary said, startling Sirius out of his thoughts. "Sounds like I was talking a bunch of rubbish." Her tone was both amused and dismissive, and her expression seemed sheepish, although it was hard to tell because Sirius could only see part of her face.
"You were pretty drunk," Sirius said. He took another deep breath, terrified his voice would betray his emotions. "So was what you said just a bunch of rubbish?"
Her eyes darted up to meet his before looking away again, fixing on a spot over his shoulder. "Definitely rubbish," she said. "You can't take anything I say seriously after I've drank that much gin. Bloody hell, that's embarrassing."
For a moment he couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything besides hear her words echoing in his head. You can't take anything I say seriously after I've drank that much gin. He had spent the last two days replaying her words and convincing himself she had actually meant them, yet she had torn down his fragile thread of hope with just that one casual sentence. Now, lying here next to her with the fire warming his back and her hair tickling his chin, he felt devastated and foolish and angry at his colossal misjudgment.
"It's all right," he choked out. "No need to be embarrassed. I say all sorts of rubbish when I'm drunk, too."
The background noises of the common room had faded away as he focused everything on his confession, but now they came rushing back, amplified by his emotions until the chatter and laughter and crackle of the fire sounded deafening in his ears.
"I'm going to go smoke a cigarette," he said, removing his arm from around her waist and getting to his feet.
"Oh, should I come, too?" she asked, frowning up at him in surprise.
"Nah, you're comfortable there," he assured her. "Stay by the fire. I'll be back in a bit."
He stumbled out of the common room and out into the corridor, then broke into a run. Portraits and torches rushed past him in a blur, but he didn't slow down until he reached the Astronomy Tower where he collapsed onto the frigid stone floor and rested his head in his hands.
You idiot, he berated himself. You complete bloody idiot. This is why you don't bother with feelings and relationships and all that sentimental rubbish, because this is how it turns out.
He pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, then retrieved his flask with his other hand and alternated between drags on the cigarette and pulls of firewhisky. The frigid November air raised goosebumps on his skin, as the thin t-shirt he wore provided little warmth, but he was so intent on numbing the sharp rush of feelings that he hardly noticed the cold. Only after he had smoked three cigarettes and drained the last drops from his flask did he allow himself to think about his conversation with Mary.
That's embarrassing, she had said. She found the idea of having feelings for him embarrassing, and he had been moments away from confessing his own feelings. Would she have laughed at him? Forced an uncomfortable smile before looking away? Or perhaps the worst possibility, would she have looked at him with pity?
Yet five months ago he had stood in a telephone booth with the telephone clamped to his ear, listening to her say the exact words she had just dismissed as drunken rubbish. Was her confession that night just another throwaway comment she hadn't meant? Or had she said it to make Sirius feel better about his own confession and hoped he would have no memory of the conversation in the morning so she would not have to justify or explain her lie?
His eyes fell on the lyrics tattooed on his arm, and the sight filled him with such a sudden flash of pain and fury that he picked up his empty flask and hurled it at the wall. It hit the stone with a dull thud and bounced off onto the ground where it lay, dented and sad. Before Sirius had time to damage any more of his possessions, he heard footsteps and turned to see Stacy Tremblay standing behind him, staring at him with an expression of mingled curiosity and concern.
"Black?" She took a step closer, shivering as the cold seeped in through her clothes. "What are you doing out here?"
He gestured at the empty flask and shrugged. "I was smoking and drinking but I've run out of firewhisky." He examined his pack of Marlboro's and held it out to her. "I do have one more cigarette left. You can have it, if you like."
She shook her head and sat down beside him. "Aren't you cold? It's freezing out here." She ran her hand over his bare arm, and her fingers felt hot against his numb skin.
"I hadn't really noticed," he admitted, realizing for the first time that a light snow was falling. The tiny white flakes had begun to accumulate in Stacy's hair, and he looked down to find his trousers covered in a dusting of powdery snowflakes.
She raised her eyebrows. "Where's your girlfriend tonight?"
He scowled. "I've told you, she's not my bloody girlfriend. And I expect she's back in the common room, although I don't particularly care where she is."
"Are you all right?" She peered at him, frowning, and Sirius guessed she could sense the melancholy and anger that emanated from him.
"I'm fan-fucking-tastic," he said, smiling bitterly. "Can't you tell? The only thing that would make this shitshow of a night better is if I had more firewhisky." He glanced sideways at her and raised his eyebrows. "You don't have any with you, do you?"
She grinned and shook her head. "Sorry, I don't normally bring a flask when I do prefect patrols," she said, offering him an apologetic smile. "Even when my patrol buddy is ill and I'm forced to patrol alone. But maybe there's something else I can do to make your night a bit better?"
Her hand still rested on his arm, and although she spotted him eying it, she did not pull it away. Instead she reached her other hand up to brush snow from his hair, then leaned in to kiss him. Her mouth warmed his lips, yet somehow the kiss made him feel even more numb. A feeling of detachment spread through his body and dulled the ache Mary's words had sparked, and Sirius found himself returning the kiss, desperate to avoid feeling in any way he could.
"Come on," she said once she had pulled away. "Let's go somewhere warmer. You'll freeze if you stay out here any longer."
She got to her feet and stood looking down at him as the snow continued to fall. Her eyes were bright with desire, and Sirius noticed a snowflake had landed in her eyelashes. Her eyes were hazel, not brown, and her hair was straight, not curly, and her kiss had felt different than what he was used to as her lips moved against his, but none of this mattered much, because she was a welcome distraction that he didn't have to work for. At least while he was with her, he wouldn't have to think about anything else, and that thought got him to his feet.
"Lead the way, then," he said, following her out of the cold and towards whatever broom cupboard or abandoned classroom or other deserted spot she chose. As she pulled him into a doorway and pressed herself against him, he had one last fleeting thought of Mary, stretched out on the floor by the fire and wondering where he had gone to, before he closed down his mind. Tonight he was not going to think or feel anything complex or painful. Tonight he was going to forget everything with the help of this dark broom cupboard and Stacy's lips and the convenient absence of her Ravenclaw counterpart.
Mary glanced up at the portrait hole and frowned. The warmth of the fire on her back had lulled her to sleep, and she couldn't be sure just how long Sirius had been gone, but she had the sense that he should be back by now. She considered going after him, but it was so warm and cozy here in the common room, and she couldn't seem to summon the energy to move.
"Peter?" She propped herself up on her elbow to look over at him. "Does it seem like Black's been gone for a long time?"
Peter set down his quill and looked around. "Oh, I hadn't even realized he'd left. This bloody essay is killing me. Where'd he go?"
"To smoke a cigarette, he said, but I feel like he's been gone ages."
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, replaying their conversation in her head. The more she thought about it, the more her vague sense of unease grew. I didn't have a chance to give you any sort of response, to tell you how I feel, but… She had assumed he was going to reiterate his aversion to relationships and his disdain for discussing feelings. Her dismissal of her confession as drunken rubbish was only because she thought that's what he would want her to say, to save them both the anguish of wading through the messy, tiresome task of sorting out their emotions. Now a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she had been very wrong. He didn't want to hear it was just drunken rambling that I didn't mean. He wanted me to say I meant every word. Fucking hell, I did mean every word, so why couldn't I just say so? Even as the thought occurred to her, she realized she had been afraid. Afraid to reveal her true feelings without the cushion of alcohol, afraid to hear him do the same, afraid to risk rejection if he didn't feel the same way.
"Do you want me to check the Map to see where he's gone?" Peter asked.
He was peering at her with concern creasing his features as though he guessed some of the feelings she struggled to conceal. Without waiting for her to respond, he glanced around to make sure nobody was watching before pulling the Map from his pocket and tapping it with his wand while he muttered the now familiar phrase. His head remained bent over the Map for a minute, and she watched his eyes scan the parchment in vain until they widened in shock and surprise. He bit his lip as he looked up from the Map, and his eyes darted around restlessly, unable to meet hers.
"Where is he, Peter?" she asked, getting to her feet and rushing over to peek at the map.
Peter began to snatch the Map out of her view, then sighed and relented. "He's in one of the broom cupboards," he said, and the apologetic note in his voice made the revelation worse.
"Who's he with?" she demanded, because of course he wouldn't be alone, not in a broom cupboard. When Peter didn't answer, she peered down at the Map to see for herself, desperately hoping to see the little dot labeled Sirius Black alone in that broom cupboard. Her heart sank and her breath caught in her chest as she read the name next to his.
"Stacy bloody Tremblay," she muttered, shaking her head in disgust and disbelief. She sank into the empty chair across from Peter, abandoning her plan to go after Sirius, and stared into the fire. The physical toll of the knowledge surprised her: just seeing the two tiny names on the map made her feel ill and exhausted, and she was suddenly unsure whether she could even stand.
"Did something happen between you two?" Peter asked. He looked as distraught as she felt, and in better circumstances she would have found this touching. "An argument, or…?"
His voice trailed off as he waited for her to fill in the rest of the sentence for him, but she had no idea how to begin to answer his question. So much had happened between them that remained undiscussed, shoved aside to examine at a later, undisclosed time, except that time never seemed to arrive. Now she feared their refusal to acknowledge their feelings had driven them apart.
"What happened is I'm a bloody idiot," she said, resting her head in her hands. "Thanks for the help, Peter. I'm going to go up to bed, I think."
"Aren't you even going to talk to him?" Peter asked in alarm. "I'm sure if you just sat down and talked out whatever's going on-"
"It might be too late for that," she said, getting to her feet. "I dunno, maybe I'll talk to him, but not tonight. I'll give him time to shower off the scent of Stacy Tremblay first."
"If it helps at all, I'd pick you over her any day," Peter said, an earnest expression on his face. "You're a much nicer person, and you have a nicer arse."
She stood there gaping at him for a moment, and he blushed and opened his mouth to explain away his comment before Mary's face split into a reluctant smile.
"Thanks, Peter," she said, experiencing a rush of genuine gratitude for his silly remark that had made her smile. "Your arse isn't half bad, either."
He chuckled and shook his head. "Liar." He looked down at the map for a moment before glancing back up, and his expression turned serious again. "It's all going to be okay, Mary. It'll work out in the end, things always do."
Emotion choked her throat and she found herself unable to speak, so she nodded and waved before turning and retreating up the staircase to the girls' dormitory. As she settled into the bed she hadn't slept in for weeks, the image of Sirius tangled in Stacy's arms haunted her every time she closed her eyes. She tossed and turned, unable to shake the thought from her mind. This is your fault. You drove him to her, all because you were too afraid to be honest about your bloody feelings. She lay there for hours, reproaching herself and picturing the broom cupboard rendezvous, until she fell into a fitful doze.
Tuesday November 22, 1977
Peter awoke to the usual sounds of James getting dressed after his morning run. He rolled over and pulled his curtains open to peer at Sirius's bed, but the curtains were still shut. Although he couldn't be certain, he would have bet 100 galleons that Mary was absent, and his suspicions proved to be correct when James pulled Sirius's curtains aside and plopped down onto his bed.
"Happy Tuesday," he announced, grinning down at the scowl forming on Sirius's face, but his smile faltered when he realized the other half of the bed was empty. "Where's Macdonald?"
Sirius shrugged and slid out of bed. "I dunno. In her own bed, probably." The irritation in his voice was obvious, but it hid a hint of self-consciousness and sadness that Peter could detect only because he knew about Sirius's actions the previous evening.
"Any particular reason?" James asked, running a hand through his hair and studying Sirius's face.
"I dunno, Prongs, because she felt like it, I suppose?" Sirius snapped. "It's too early for all these questions."
He headed for the shower, leaving James to exchange a puzzled look with Peter. Peter merely shrugged, hesitant to reveal what he knew in case it angered Sirius.
"Do you know anything, Moony?" James asked.
Remus emerged from behind his curtains, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.
"Doesn't bode well, though, does it?" He went to his trunk and began pulling out clothes. "It's been a while since he's lost his shit. I suppose we're due, aren't we? Fucking Padfoot."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," James cautioned him, attempting to grin. "We're going to stay positive and hope for the best, all right? It's going to be a great day."
Remus set down the two cardigans he had been deciding between to look at James with a weary, resigned expression.
"Prongs, I appreciate your optimism, and I hope you're right, but it's too close to the full moon for me to be that optimistic."
Peter pointed at one of the cardigans. "Wear your lucky jumper. Maybe that'll help."
When they all met down in the common room to walk to breakfast together, Sirius and Mary glanced at each other before looking away and fixing their respective gazes on the floor. Peter saw Lily shoot James a questioning look, but he gave a tiny shake of his head and she remained silent despite her obvious urge to pepper the two of them with questions. During the walk to the Great Hall and during breakfast, Mary and Sirius barely spoke while they pretended they weren't sneaking looks at each other.
On the walk to Herbology, Sirius turned to Mary and offered her a cigarette before muttering, "I didn't mean to disappear on you last night. I was, er…"
"I know where you were," Mary said, keeping her tone brisk and her eyes fixed on the grounds ahead as she lit her cigarette and took a drag.
Peter tried to quicken his pace so they could continue the conversation in private, but Sirius's long legs kept pace with his own, so he had no choice but to continue to listen unless he broke into a run.
"You do?" Sirius asked, so surprised that he almost dropped his cigarette. "How?"
"I checked the Map," Mary said with a shrug. Her tone was casual, but Peter could see the tension in her hand as she twisted a curl around and around her finger. "Only because you were gone so long and I got a bit worried. But once I was where you were and who you were with, I realized there was no need to worry."
Sirius stared at Mary for a moment, and Peter wondered if he could see through her feigned indifference. "So you're not…"
"You're free to do whatever you like," Mary said in a tight, flat voice. "No need to explain yourself to me." She hesitated, and for a moment her restraint slipped to reveal a flicker of emotion in her face. "How was it?"
He frowned, and Peter could see him struggling to decide how to answer. "It was all right, I suppose."
She nodded. "That's good, then." Her hand shook slightly as she gripped her cigarette, but other than that she showed no sign that his remark had any effect on her.
"So we're okay?" he continued.
"Fine," Mary said, shivering as the wind buffeted them. "Merlin, it's cold."
"Where were you?" Lily burst out, unable to remain silent any longer. "And who were you with?"
Sirius took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke before replying. "I ran into someone and we got talking," he said without meeting her gaze. "I ended up staying out longer than I meant to."
"But who did you run into?" Lily insisted, heaving an impatient sigh. "Mary, who did he run into? Why're you both being so vague?"
They had reached the greenhouses, so Sirius tossed his cigarette onto the ground and ground it out before striding into class without answering her question. Mary sighed and shook her head before following him in, leaving Lily standing there with her hands on her hips, her face drawn into a scowl.
"Leave it, Evans," James muttered, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "If you press Sirius too much it'll just make it worse."
"He's right," Peter said, flashing Lily an encouraging smile.
Remus nodded. "Trust us. We have plenty of experience with this, unfortunately."
He led the way into the greenhouse, and the rest of them followed. As Peter sat down in his usual seat, he spotted Stacy Tremblay walk to the front of the class to ask Sprout a question. On her way back to her seat, she slowed as she approached Sirius with a smug smile on her face.
"You look tired this morning," she said, reaching over to adjust his tie, and the gesture was somehow more suggestive than her smirk and her comment.
"So do you," he said, returning her smirk. "Don't fall asleep in class. That won't look good for a prefect."
"I should be good in here, but you might need to poke me if I get sleepy in Potions," she said, giving him a little wave before turning and heading back to her seat.
Lily looked from Stacy to Sirius, her eyes wide and her mouth open. Mary stared down at her pruning shears, a fixed smile plastered on her face. James, Remus, and Peter exchanged a look, and James put a cautioning hand on her arm, but Lily ignored him.
"Sirius," she demanded, "did you and Stacy…?"
"We shagged last night, yeah," he said, arranging the tools Professor Sprout had laid out on the table for them to use for the day's lesson. "Shit, I think we're short a pair of clippers. Evans, can you go ask Sprout for some?"
"What?" Lily gaped at him, then snatched the clippers out of his hand and slammed them down onto the table. "You say something like that and then talk about bloody clippers? Sirius Black, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
When Sirius merely shrugged, she looked around at the rest of them for support, and Peter followed her gaze. James had his hand clamped over his mouth, as though actively trying to hide his disbelief, while Remus appeared to be too tired to manage more than mild surprise. Realizing he should react in a similar manner, he adopted an expression of shock, but it was too late.
"You knew," Lily said, her eyes boring into Peter. "You knew and you didn't tell us."
"I, er, had an idea about it, yeah," Peter said, crumbling under the force of Lily's glare. "I checked the Map for Mary and saw them together."
"Pete, you could've said something," James said, a slight reproach in his tone. "So we would've known what we were walking into this morning."
Mary sighed and set down her pruning shears with a clatter that made Peter start. "Listen," she said, speaking for the first time since the walk to class. "He didn't say anything because it's not a big deal. We're not exclusive and we've always been free to shag other people, so this isn't nearly as shocking as everyone is making it out to be. So if everyone doesn't mind, let's talk about something else, all right?" She looked at the clippers in front of Lily and sighed. "And I suppose I'll go get another pair of these, if you're not going to do it."
She stood and strode to the front of the greenhouse, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.
After Herbology ended and they fought their way through the driving wind back up to the castle, Lily dragged Mary into the bathroom at the first opportunity. She checked to make sure the stalls were empty before crossing her arms and fixing Mary with her most piercing stare.
"What's going on?" she demanded. "Are you really fine with this? And don't give me that rubbish about not being exclusive. You spend every night in his bed. You're always together. You take care of each other when you're hungover, and he went with you to track down your mum, and he lets you braid his bloody hair."
"What's your point, Lily?" Mary asked as she peered in the mirror and wiped a bit of mascara from underneath her eye.
"My point is that you're more to each other than just friends who shag, and you have been for a while, and I'm having a hard time believing you're completely fine with him shagging someone else for no apparent reason," Lily said, and her words ran together as her frustration grew. "And could you look at me instead of fixing your bloody hair?"
Mary stopped fussing with her hair and met Lily's gaze. "Yes, we're more to each other than just friends who shag, but it's not exactly clear what that means, as we've never discussed it. So yes, I was a bit surprised when I saw his name on the Map with Stacy Tremblay in a broom cupboard, but I'm not going to lose my head over it. We're not dating, so I have no right to be angry if he shags someone else, just like he would have no right to be angry if I shag someone else."
"But you haven't," Lily pointed out. "Not since that bloke from your work this summer."
"That doesn't mean I'm never going to," Mary said. She returned to studying her reflection in the mirror, pushing a strand of hair out of her face before turning back to face Lily. "Eddie Edgecombe has just split up with his girlfriend, hasn't he? He gave me a look in the library the other night, you know the sort of look I mean. Maybe I'll see if he wants to meet up."
"What?" Lily spluttered. "You're not going to… Why would you do that? Don't do it just for, I dunno, revenge or-"
"Don't be silly," Mary said, rolling her eyes. "What would I need revenge for? He was perfectly within his rights to do what he did. I'm just, you know, keeping my options open."
"And your sudden interest in keeping your options open has nothing to do with Sirius doing the same with Stacy Tremblay?" Lily demanded.
The calm, almost bored expression on Mary's face was driving her mad, even more so because it was so like the expression Sirius had worn earlier. Was nobody else as upset about this as she was? Somehow the distance between Sirius and Mary made the entire friend group feel wrong and out of whack, and she felt it was her responsibility to shout at her idiot friends until some vestige of sense penetrated their dense brains.
"Well, it's related only because Sirius reminded me that the option was there, you know?" Mary said, twirling a curl around her finger thoughtfully. "I suppose we've got a bit comfortable in the past month or two, but now I've been reminded that it's fun to spend time with different people every so often. And I think Eddie Edgecombe might need a bit of comforting, so it would be rude of me to ignore him in his time of need, wouldn't it?"
Lily shook her head in disbelief. "You're infuriating to be friends with, do you know that?"
"Well, so are you, sometimes," Mary said with a shrug. "Besides, I'm very good at curling your hair, and I taught you how to roll a joint, and I let you talk about the exact shade of James Potter's eyes even though it makes me want to fall asleep, so I'd say my good qualities outweigh the bad ones." She grinned and nodded at the door. "Now come on, you don't want to be late for class."
"They're mad," Lily hissed to James as they lagged behind the others in the corridor. "Completely bloody insane. What do they think they're playing at? They're clearly in love with each other, and they're really going to go and shag other people like it doesn't matter?" She shook her head in disgust. "I can't believe you're not going to try to talk sense into Sirius."
James grinned and pulled her to a stop before guiding her to the edge of the corridor so they would not be in the way.
"Evans," he said, resting his hand on her waist, "when have you ever known Sirius to listen when you tell him not to do something?" He waited for her to answer, but when she only stood there looking annoyed he continued. "Obviously I'm going to talk to him about it, but shouting at him that he's making a big mistake isn't the right way to go about it. It's going to take some time, and it's likely going to take half a bottle of Ogden's before he'll even consider talking about it."
She sighed and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "You're probably right."
He kissed the top of her head and pulled her into a hug. "I know I'm right," he said, and she marveled at how the confidence that bordered on arrogance was endearing to her now rather than irritating. "Also," he went on, "have you ever considered how infuriating it must have been for them to watch us dance around our feelings for each other for so long before we actually started dating?"
She giggled. "Nothing about that was infuriating. It was just adorable." She leaned in to kiss him, and the familiar pressure of his lips against hers was comforting.
"We are pretty adorable," he murmured, holding her against him for a moment longer before releasing her and leading the way down the corridor.
The awkward, strained silence had persisted between Sirius and Mary all through dinner and afterwards as they sat in the common room doing homework. James caught Sirius watching Mary when he thought she wasn't looking, and several times he spotted Mary doing the same thing, but he kept writing his Potions essay and didn't comment. A few minutes after Lily and Remus left to do patrols, Mary stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, avoiding Sirius's eye.
"I'm going to the library for a bit," she said, and the casual tone of her voice struck James as artificial. "Does anyone need anything?"
"Yeah, would you see if you can find a book on poisonous aquatic plants for that Herbology thing?" Peter asked, glancing up from the game of chess he and Sirius had just started.
Mary nodded and waved before heading for the door. As she reached the portrait hole, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. Sirius returned his attention to the chess game, but James thought he saw a flicker of something pass over Mary's face before she turned around and left the common room.
"That's odd, isn't it?" Sirius muttered, glaring down at the chess board. "What do you reckon she's going to the library for?"
"Well, it's the library, so it's probably something to do with books," Peter said, grinning then clapping his hand over his mouth when he saw the fury on Sirius's face. "Sorry, that was unhelpful, wasn't it?"
"Very bloody unhelpful," Sirius agreed, moving a chess piece and swearing as Peter moved one of his own pieces to capture it. "She never goes to the library on her own like that," he continued. "She's meeting up with someone, I bet."
"And if she is?" James asked. "You've both said today that you're not exclusive and you're free to shag anyone you like, so what does it matter if she is meeting up with someone?"
James's voice was even and light, but still he could see that the remarks irritated Sirius. He watched in silence as Sirius's scowl deepened and his grip on the arm of his chair grew tighter.
"It doesn't matter," Sirius snapped. "I was just saying it's odd, that's all. Hang on."
He stood up and strode over to the staircase without another word. James and Peter exchanged a look, but before they had time to discuss the matter further, Sirius reappeared with the Marauder's Map clutched in his hand. He had apparently activated it upstairs, because James could see tiny labeled dots moving around the corridors and rooms of Hogwarts.
"What?" Sirius asked when James cast a pointed glance at the Map and raised his eyebrows. "I just want to check, all right? She's in the library right now, but…"
His voice trailed off and he slumped down into his seat and set the Map facedown on the arm of the chair, then turned his attention back to the chess board. A few minutes later, however, he looked up from the game in disgust, and without a word Peter began to pack the pieces and board away.
"She's talking to Eddie fucking Edgecombe," Sirius muttered, peeking at the Map before returning it to the arm of the chair.
"Maybe he's helping her find a book," Peter suggested.
"Yeah, I'm sure that's what he's bloody helping her with," Sirius said darkly, adjusting his position in the chair.
"Padfoot, do you want to go smoke a cigarette?" James suggested. "I'll have one with you. Sod Quidditch."
"Don't," Sirius said, a warning in his voice as he drummed his fingers in a restless rhythm against the arm of the chair.
James rolled up his Potions essay and shoved it into his bag. "Don't what?" he asked, adopting an innocent expression.
"You know what. Don't say 'sod Quidditch' and offer to smoke with me. You never smoke during the Quidditch season unless it's a really dire situation, and this is not a really dire situation. I'm not going to fall apart and lose my shit or punch something, okay? I'm fine."
James ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "You're fine. Got it. Glad to hear it, although I really could go for a cigarette right now."
"Here's your book, Peter," Mary said, and they all turned to see her standing in front of Peter's chair holding out a battered book. "Sorry it took a while, I got talking to someone."
Sirius let out a mirthless laugh and rolled his eyes.
"What?" she asked, a touch of defiance breaking through her otherwise calm demeanor.
"Nothing," Sirius said, shrugging. "I didn't say anything."
"Come on, out with it, Black," she said, sitting down next to him and fixing him with an impatient glare. "If you have something to say, just say it."
"We can leave," Peter offered, rising to go, but Mary shook her head and gestured for him to sit back down.
"I don't have anything to say," Sirius insisted, gripping the arm of the chair until his knuckles turned white. "I just think if you want to meet up with Eddie fucking Edgecombe, you don't need to be so bloody secretive about it. Like you said, we're not exclusive, so you're free to do whatever you like."
"Don't be stupid, Black, I wasn't being secretive," Mary snapped. "I just ran into him in the library. I had no plans to meet up with him."
"But I'm sure you made plans to see him later," Sirius insisted. He was so angry that he was no longer bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice. "Not like you haven't run into him and ended up shagging before. I know you did it several times last year. You're probably due for a good shagging session."
"We're meeting up tomorrow night," Mary said, her eyes flashing with anger. "Not that it's any of your business. Actually, how do you even know that's who I was talking to?" She looked at James and Peter for a hint before her eyes fell on the Map, discarded next to Sirius. "Bloody hell, you're using the Map to check up on me?"
"Sorry, how is that different from you using it to check up on me yesterday?" Sirius shot back.
"That's different! You'd been gone ages and I got worried, but if you don't want me to, I won't bother in the future," she said, refusing to shout despite the increasing volume of Sirius's voice.
"Fine, don't bother!" Sirius stood up and grabbed the Map from the arm of the chair. "I'm going to bed. Enjoy having mediocre sex with Eddie Edgecombe tomorrow."
"Oh, sod you," she called at his retreating back, but his only response was to give her a rude hand gesture before disappearing up the stairs.
"Well, that was…" Peter began, but his voice trailed off and he shrugged hopelessly.
Mary attempted to smile and sighed. "Are you two going to go talk to him?"
James and Peter looked at each other, eyes wide.
"What, now?" James asked, grinning. "No bloody chance. I value my life too much."
"He'll need at least a half hour to cool off, I'd say," Peter added. "And I'm not even remotely qualified to talk to him when he's like this. Prongs is best at it."
"Unless…" James hesitated and raised his eyebrows at Mary. "Maybe you might want to go talk to him?"
She shook her head and sighed again. "I'm sorry, I know it's my fault he's upset and you'll have to pick up the pieces, but I just can't bring myself to talk to him. At least not tonight." She stood up and heaved her bag onto her shoulder. "I'm going to go up to bed."
"Wait," James said, holding out a hand to stop her. "What happened between you? I feel like there's got to be more than the two of you are admitting."
James watched her stand there, wrapping a curl around her finger as her conflicting emotions flooded her face. After a moment she shook her head and made a helpless gesture.
"There is more than what we're admitting. A lot more," she said, and her eyes were so bright with emotion that James feared she might cry. "But I don't know how to bloody explain it, and that's the problem." Her words lingered in the air, and she looked as though she wanted to say more, but then she bit her lip and rubbed at her eyes before turning and heading for the girls' staircase, leaving James and Peter to mull over her words.
"Padfoot's a bloody idiot," Peter remarked after a moment.
"He is," James agreed. "But so is Macdonald. I suppose that's why they're so good together."
"But why don't they just talk to each other?" Peter insisted. "Wouldn't it be easier to tell each other how they feel rather than doing this, when it's clear that neither of them are happy?"
James grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "You're asking a lot of hard questions, Pete. I dunno, I suppose if he did things that made sense, he wouldn't be Padfoot, would he?"
Peter chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."
Forty minutes later James set down the Quidditch magazine he had been reading and stood up.
"Right," he said in a matter-of-fact, determined tone, "I'm going up to talk to Padfoot. If I don't come back, it was nice knowing you, and tell Evans I love her." He set off for the staircase, then paused and whirled around, a look of panic clouding his face. "Don't actually tell Evans that unless you've seen my lifeless body, though, because I've never actually said that before, and it should come from me unless I'm dead and unable to tell her myself because Padfoot's murdered me."
"Yeah, I got it," Peter said. "Good luck, Prongs." He flashed James an encouraging grin before returning to the Herbology book spread out in front of him.
The scent of cigarette smoke greeted James as he stepped into the dormitory, and he had to navigate around several books and the shards of a Butterbeer bottle strewn across the floor. Bits of glass and ash crushed under his foot, but he didn't comment as he sat down on his bed. Sirius was stretched out on his bed with his arms folded underneath his head, smoking and staring up at the ceiling. He glanced up and nodded at James as he exhaled a long stream of smoke, but other than that he did not acknowledge his friend's presence. James retrieved a Snitch from his trunk and returned to his bed, content to sit in silence for as long as was necessary.
"You think I'm being a fucking tosser," Sirius remarked, extinguishing the tip of the cigarette with his wand. He attempted to toss the cigarette butt out the window, but his aim was off and it landed on the windowsill and bounced off onto the floor. James noticed several other cigarette butts scattering the floor below the window and grinned.
"Your aim's shit," he said, gesturing at the collection of cigarette butts. "You'd better clean those up before Moony gets back or he'll kill you, emotional crisis or no emotional crisis."
Sirius glared at James. "Sod off, I'm not having an emotional crisis," he said. "And you didn't answer my question."
James grinned and released the Snitch, letting it flutter almost out of reach before making a grab for it. "It wasn't a question," he said as he enjoyed the familiar feeling of the tiny wings beating against his fist. "But if you want me to call you a fucking tosser, I'm happy to."
"Sod off," he said again, but this time James detected a hint of a smile on his face.
After another few minutes of silence, Sirius rolled over to face James and propped his head on his hand.
"Aren't you going to try to convince me to have some heart to heart with Macdonald and tell her my bloody feelings?" he demanded, and the disdain in his voice made it clear what he thought of this suggestion.
"I've already told you my opinion on that," James said, sliding down onto his back and letting the Snitch hover above his head. "What's the point, when you barely listened the first time?"
"Yeah, I guess that's fair," Sirius said, grinning. "But still, I know you think I'm being a hypocritical arsehole."
"I never said that." James reached up and caught the Snitch before sending it fluttering in Sirius's direction.
"You don't have to." Sirius's fingers brushed the Snitch, but it drifted away out of his reach. "Oh, bloody hell."
"It's all right, I'll get it later," James said as he watched the Snitch flutter across the room and out the window. "Or not. It's fine, I still have another one."
"Eddie Edgecombe is a fucking tosser, though," Sirius said, scowling as his attention returned to the previous topic.
"He is," James agreed. "But Stacy Tremblay is sort of a stuck-up bitch."
Sirius's mouth twitched up into a reluctant smile. "Yeah, a bit. She has a decent arse, though."
"Well, maybe Edgecombe has a nice arse, too," James said, getting to his feet and stretching.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Maybe. I've never noticed. Can't be nicer than mine, though."
They fell silent for a moment as James pointed his wand at the broken glass and ash and sent it soaring into the rubbish bin. He had just turned his attention to the cigarette butts by the window when Sirius broke the silence.
"I suppose after she shags Edgecombe we'll be even. Maybe it'll be good. We'll have a bit of a break, and then, I dunno, we'll figure it out, go back to the way we were," he said.
His expression was both hopeful and resigned, and James detected a vague longing for more than their previous unofficial arrangement, but he decided not to press the matter.
"So you're not planning to punch Eddie Edgecombe or anything?" James asked as he ran a hand through his hair and hoped he had not just planted the idea in Sirius's head.
Sirius laughed and shook his head. "Merlin, it's so obvious you've never punched anyone. You don't plan it, Prongs, it just sort of happens. But I'll try to behave." He pushed himself upright, brushing the accumulated ash from his jacket in irritation. "There's fucking ash everywhere. What sort of idiot would throw the ashtray across the room?"
"The same sort of idiot who would throw Moony's books and chain smoke in the room the week of the full moon." James bent to retrieve one of the books from the floor and held it out to Sirius for inspection. "You've bent some of the pages. He may actually kill you."
Sirius ran his hand over the bend page in a fruitless attempt to flatten it. "Fucking hell," he muttered, giving up and walking across the room to replace the book on Remus's bedside table. "Maybe he won't notice. Or maybe I can blame it on Pete."
"Maybe," James said before picking the other book off the floor and placing it on top of the other one. "I think I'll go show Peter that you haven't murdered me for bothering you in the middle of an emotional crisis, and then I might try to track down Evans and Moony and see if they'll end patrols early."
Sirius smirked and sat down on the side of his bed to remove his boots. "What, so you can get in a good snog before bed?"
"No, for Moony's sake, because he's probably asleep on his feet but he's too stubborn to say so." He ran a hand through his hair and grinned. "The snogging is just an added bonus."
"Sounds like a win-win situation." He finished unlacing his boots and kicked them off before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor. "I suppose I'll go to sleep."
Sirius's eyes darted to the side of the bed where Mary usually slept, and such a profound wave of sadness washed over his face that James had to look away. He resisted the urge to tell Sirius it would all be okay, that Mary would soon be back to stealing his shirts and playing with his hair and falling asleep beside him. Speaking this sentiment aloud would be too much of an overt acknowledgement of Sirius's feelings, even though they were both well aware of what those feelings were. Instead, James bade Sirius goodnight and headed down the stairs to the common room, hoping his optimism was not misplaced and that everything really would be okay.