Saturday, November 26, 1977

Sirius opened his eyes and looked around in confusion for a moment before his exhausted brain recognized the broken furniture and boarded up windows of the Shrieking Shack. He felt a light touch against his fur and realized he was still in his Animagus form. Remus lay beside him, covered in a blanket except for his pale, scarred face. His eyes were half closed, and he was trailing his fingers idly through the soft fur on Sirius's head.

"Padfoot." The voice was hoarse and faint, barely more than a whisper. "Shit, I'm violating the petting rule, aren't I?" He pulled his hand away and slipped it back underneath the blanket that hid the rest of his body. "Didn't realize I was doing it. Anyway, you've got to go. Pomfrey will be coming to collect me soon."

"I told him the same thing," Peter said, a note of reproach in his tone. "But he ignored me, so I sort of nudged him with my foot and he picked up his head and did one of those big dramatic dog sighs and went back to sleep."

"Bad Padfoot," Remus said, the barest hint of a smile on his face. "You're going to the pound."

Sirius barked in reply but made no move to get up. The thought of returning to his human form and the complicated human emotions he had been happy to avoid all night filled him with a sick, heavy dread that he knew was unrelated to his sleep deprivation and slight hangover.

"Come on, Padfoot," James urged, pulling Sirius's jacket and wand from the hiding place under the floorboard and depositing them on the floor beside him. "You can sleep for a bit once we get to the dormitory."

Sirius heaved another of what Peter had referred to as a big dramatic dog sigh before standing up and changing back into human form.

"What's the pound, Moony?" he asked as he stretched his long limbs.

"It's where bad dogs go," Remus said, grinning, but his face fell when he spotted the blood-soaked bandage on Sirius's arm. "How'd you get that?"

Too late Sirius realized he should have put his jacket back on right away, but he glanced at his arm and tried to adopt a casual air.

"I scratched it on a tree branch," he said with a shrug. "Looks worse than it is."

Remus frowned, trying to lift his head to peer more closely at the cut, but the movement seemed to cause him pain, because he gave up and returned his head to the floor, his face even paler than before.

"Why's it still bleeding?" he insisted, squeezing his eyes shut. Apparently keeping them open was making the pain worse. "It should've stopped hours ago if you just scratched it on a branch."
"Well, Wormtail tried to heal it for me, but I don't think he's done it properly," Sirius said, slipping on his jacket to prevent any further examination of the wound. "I'll take a look at it when we get back to the castle and redo the healing spell if I need to, don't worry about me." He stuck his wand into his back pocket and looked around at Peter and James. "Should we get going, then?"

"Bye, Moony," Peter said. "We'll see you in the hospital wing later. Oh, I forgot to tell you earlier, but Seven was really excited to come visit you."

"Seven's coming to visit you?" James asked, grinning and running a hand through his hair. "When were you going to tell us this?"

"I was a bit distracted last night," Remus said, opening his eyes again. "It must've slipped my mind."

"Give us a signal if you want us to clear out so she can, you know, make you feel better," Sirius said, raising his eyebrows and smirking. "Say 'Sauce' or something."

"Don't be stupid, Padfoot," Remus said, managing a weak smile. "She's not going to do anything like that. What if Madam Pomfrey walks in?"

Sirius shrugged. "You could ask her to join you."

Remus laughed softly, then winced. "Bloody hell, you lot had better go," he said. "It's too early for such filthy conversation, and laughing hurts too much."

"We'll be listening for the signal word anyway, in case you change your mind," Sirius said, giving him a wave before heading for the door. "Bye, Moony."

He led the way out into the tunnel, trying not to think about the pain etched on Remus's face and the unease in his voice when he had noticed Sirius's injury. It was always tough to leave Remus here the morning after a transformation, battered and dejected and all alone, but Sirius's low mood made it even worse. A nagging voice at the back of his mind told him that drinking last night had been reckless and stupid, because he had put himself and his friends at risk, and even worse, he knew Remus would be overwhelmed by guilt if he found out what had really happened. Don't think about that, he told himself. You weren't drunk, and even if you were, that's not why you got scratched. Moony's unpredictable, that's all. He's the one who freaked out and attacked for no reason. This is his fault, not yours.

"Pick up the pace, mate," James said, and Sirius sped up, realizing he had fallen behind the others. "The sooner we get back, the better." A hopeful, mischievous smile spread across his face. "There's a good chance Evans is sleeping in my bed with just a t-shirt on."

"Too much clothing," Sirius said, making a dismissive gesture. "Macdonald would be fully naked."

The words gave him a sick, sinking feeling as he realized she would not be waiting in his bed this month. She would not drape her legs over his and rest her head on his chest as she traced the raised line of his scar and her hair tickled his face. Instead he would crawl into an empty bed with only his own thoughts for company.

Sod her, Sirius thought as they stepped out of the tunnel into the brisk November morning. She probably shagged Eddie fucking Edgecombe again last night. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, letting the nicotine dull the ache of Mary's absence. I'm well shot of her, really. He tried to recover the freedom and joy that had filled him last night as he raced through the Forbidden Forest, the icy air bracing on his face and Peter clinging to his fur as he overtook James and gained on Remus. In that moment, Sirius had felt completely and utterly happy. Now, it took all of his energy just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He scowled and took another drag on his cigarette, pointedly ignoring the look of concern on James's face. Fuck me in the fuckhole.

When they reached the common room, Sirius experienced another pang of sadness when he saw Mary curled up asleep next to Lily. Her blanket had slid down to reveal the old jumper she had stolen from Remus, and her hair was frizzier than ever and obscured half of her face. As she stirred in her sleep and pulled the blanket up to her chin, Sirius felt the urge to scoop her into his arms and carry her up to bed as he had done the night of the Hog's Head debacle.

"You all right, Padfoot?" James murmured, frowning.

Sirius tore his eyes away from Mary and nodded, trying to look indifferent and not as if he had been thinking like a sentimental sod.

"Do you want to go upstairs before I wake up Evans?" James continued, shooting a meaningful look in Mary's direction.

Sirius headed for the stairs without bothering to reply. After he had reached the dormitory and left most of his clothes in a heap on the floor, Sirius collapsed onto his bed and pulled the curtains shut. The sheets were cold against his skin and the mattress felt too spacious, yet he stretched out and tried to convince himself he enjoyed having the bed to himself. As he began to fall asleep, he resolved to seek out Stacy later to set up another meetup, not out of any real desire for sexual gratification, but more as a distraction for his tortured mind. I'm well shot of her, he repeated over and over, wondering how many times he had to tell himself something to make it true.

Remus opened his eyes, squinting against the weak sunlight streaming through the window, and looked around at his friends. He guessed they had been here for a little while, because they were all doing various activities to entertain themselves, and none of them had noticed he was awake. Peter studied the chess board in front of him, wearing that smug smile he always got before making a particularly devastating capture, while Sirius had craned his neck around to bicker with Mary about the t-shirt she still had not returned, oblivious to the imminent danger facing his chess pieces. James and Lily sat together on the bed across from Remus, talking quietly and holding hands. He was both disappointed and relieved when he didn't see Seven, and he wondered if she had changed her mind and decided it would be best not to visit him after all.

"Hi, Moony," James said, breaking into a grin when he spotted Remus looking around at them all. "You all right?"

Remus took a moment to assess his pain level and shrugged. This turned out to be a terrible idea, as the movement sent a stab of pain through his shoulder.

"I've been better," he said, exploring the painful area and discovering a fresh bruise. "But I've been worse, too."

"If you're wondering why Seven isn't here, we told her we'd let her know when to head down," Peter said, glancing up from the chess game to flash Remus a knowing smile. "We thought you might want a minute to adjust to being awake before she gets here."

Remus smiled, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. He didn't even want to think about what he must look like right now, and he was glad to be able to compose himself and make sure Seven wouldn't be horrified by the sight of him.

"How's my hair looking?" he asked, reaching up to examine it and frowning.

"It's looking great," James said with a grin. "It's got that untidy, bedroomy look." He ran a hand through his own hair to demonstrate.

"I don't think bedroomy is a word, Prongs," Remus said, combing his fingers through a flattened section of hair in an attempt to make it look more presentable.

"I think what he means is your opinion on this subject isn't the most reliable," Sirius said, raising his eyebrows and gesturing at James's messy hair.

"My hair is excellent," James insisted. "You like my hair, don't you, Evans?"

Lily smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. "Of course I do."

James grinned, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a tin of mints. "Here," he said, passing it to Remus. "In case you feel up to a bit of snogging."

Remus selected several mints from the tin and popped them into his mouth. "Thanks. Although I'm not going to just start snogging while you lot are here, but I appreciate it all the same." He hesitated, and for a wild moment he considered calling the whole thing off and telling them he didn't want Seven to come after all, but the desire to see her was too strong. "You could tell Seven she's welcome to come now, if she still wants to. Is she waiting outside, or…?"

"Nah, I gave her the mirror so she could catch a bit of the match while we were waiting for you to wake up," James said, taking the two-way mirror from his pocket and peering into it as he said, "Beth Bobbin."

"Merlin, I forgot she even had a name other than Seven," Mary said, giggling.

"You can come up now," James said into the mirror, then frowned. "Where are you? It doesn't look like you're out at the match."

"I got impatient," Seven said, and Remus was surprised to hear her voice coming not from the mirror but from the other end of the hospital wing. "But don't worry, I gave Sunshine and Kath detailed instructions on what to watch for."

She stopped a few feet from Remus's bed and stood there clutching several books against her chest, wearing a shy smile. As she looked at him, he saw her smile falter as she took in his pallor and the cut that stretched across his jaw, but there was none of the disgust or horror in her eyes that he feared he would see there. Instead, he saw only concern and affection as she stepped closer and set her books down on the bedside table before resting a tentative hand on the blanket that covered him.

"Hi," she said, tugging the end of her braid with her other hand. "How are you?"

He reached out and took her hand, smiling even though it pulled at the cut on his face. "I'm all right."

He still felt the exhaustion that weighed down his limbs and the constant, nagging ache that ran through his whole body, but watching the smile return to her face made it all much easier to ignore. With her standing there, holding his hand and smiling down at him, combined with the reassuring presence of the rest of his friends, Remus felt surprisingly cheerful for just having come out of the worst transformation he had had in years.

"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here?" Seven asked. She glanced around at the otherwise empty hospital wing, biting her lip. "What if Madam Pomfrey says there are too many people?"

"You're okay, Seven," Sirius said. "If she says there are too many of us, Macdonald won't mind leaving. I'm sure she'd rather be down at the match watching Edgecombe pretend he actually knows how to play Quidditch."

"Sod you, Black," Mary muttered, and despite the irritation in her tone, Remus had seen hurt flash across her face at Sirius's words. "Of course I'm happy to leave if Remus wants me to, but-"

"Don't be silly," Remus said, cutting her off. "Nobody needs to leave. As long as we keep it down and Padfoot doesn't try to smoke in here again, she won't mind one more person."

He gave Mary an encouraging smile and she returned it, ignoring Sirius's sullen glare.

"Do you want to play a round of Exploding Snap?" Remus asked, nodding at the pack of cards that rested on the bed beside James. "Except you two should finish your chess game," he added, turning to Peter and Sirius. He glanced sideways at Seven and leaned closer. "Watching Pete beat Sirius at chess always makes me feel better. Does that make me a horrible person?"

After several rounds of Exploding Snap, Seven had inched closer to Remus until she was leaning sideways so he could put his arm around her waist. Lily raised her eyebrows at Remus and smirked, but he pretended not to notice and continued listening as Seven described one of the books she had brought for him.

"I think we should get going," Lily said, standing up and nudging James. "We can catch some of the match if you like, or we could take a nap…"

James stood and pulled Lily to him. "I could go for a nap."

Peter glanced at Sirius, but he remained silent, staring out the window with a brooding expression on his face.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Peter said, smirking as everyone besides Sirius looked at him in surprise. "What? Padfoot wasn't going to say it, so somebody had to."

They all gathered up their things and stood, except Sirius whose gaze remained fixed on the grounds outside the window.

"Black?" Mary asked hesitantly, touching his shoulder. "You coming?"

Sirius started, then stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yes, I'm coming, for fuck's sake. See you later," he said, glancing at Remus and Seven and giving them a brisk nod before striding away after the others. Mary waved and followed, muttering under her breath and twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Are they all right?" Seven asked once they were out of earshot.

"Depends on what you consider all right," Remus said, heaving a sigh. "As far as I can tell, they're both absolutely miserable and trying to pretend otherwise, which is pretty bloody stupid, because if they're so unhappy they should just be together." He rubbed his temples and rested his head back against the pillow. "It makes my head hurt even worse than it already does, which is saying something."

"I'm sorry," she said before leaning down and brushing her lips against his forehead. The kiss was cool against his hot skin, and Remus closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the brief feeling of relief. "Would The Hobbit help?"

"It usually does," he said, remembering the contentment that had washed over him last month as he reread the familiar story. "You can come sit beside me in the bed, if you like. I don't think Pomfrey will mind."

"Are you sure?" she asked, but she was already squeezing in beside him and draping the blanket over her legs.

She propped a pillow behind her back and Remus rested his head against her shoulder, and she was reaching for the book when Madam Pomfrey bustled over, holding a cup of potion. She came to an abrupt stop when she noticed the second occupant of the bed, but instead of objecting, she smiled and handed Remus the potion.

"Drink all of that," she instructed. "And you should try to sleep a bit more, but you should be fine to leave in a few hours." Her eyes lingered on Seven as she added, "Be careful of his shoulder, dear. It's a bit tender. And mind that cut on his face."

As she returned to her office, smiling to herself, Remus and Seven looked at each other before Seven started giggling.

"Merlin, she must really like you," she said, opening the book and adjusting the blanket so Remus was covered up to his chin. "I've heard of visitors being kicked out for laughing too loud."

"We've gotten to know each other pretty well over the years," Remus said. He experienced a flutter of nervousness as he realized the tacit acknowledgment of his condition his words contained. "Hey, Seven?"

Her eyes darted from the page to meet his. "Hmm?"

"Thanks for…" He hesitated, unsure how to phrase the vague, half-formed feelings that floated through his weary mind. "Thanks for being here. And for not asking me all sorts of questions. And for just accepting all of this…" He made a broad sweep with his hand, taking in the hospital bed and the cut on his face and the full cup of potion in his hand. "Just accepting it like it's… normal." He felt his throat tighten and found himself unable to say any more.

"You don't have to thank me," she said, reaching for his hand under the blanket and lacing her fingers through his. "I'm happy to be here. And this is normal, compared to some of the things your friends get up to."

Remus grinned and relaxed against her, letting his eyes close as she began to read and the gentle cadence of her voice soothed his aching head.

The sound of laughter and relaxed chatter grated on Mary's nerves as she sat slumped in front of the fire, paging through a magazine that she had already read cover to cover. Her mind returned over and over to the conversation she had witnessed between Sirius and Stacy Tremblay during dinner. Peter had been in the middle of a story, but his voice had become no more than a faint buzzing in her ears as she gazed across the Great Hall and watched Stacy's frown turn to a smile as Sirius leaned towards her and touched her arm, wearing his most charming grin. I wouldn't have thought he had the energy or patience to be charming, she thought now, remembering the moody silences and cruel jibes she had observed earlier in the day. He must really need a shag. She remembered the look of anticipation on Sirius's face as he guided Stacy out of the Great hall, resting a hand on the small of her back before drifting down to cup her arse, and she couldn't help imagining what they must be doing now. She pictured Stacy's fingernails digging into Sirius's back, her sleek hair falling into his face, her slender body pressed against his. The images flashed through her mind until she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling faintly sick.

"Mary?"

It took her a moment to realize Peter had spoken. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts and trying to hide the crippling jealousy that was making her feel nauseous. "What did you say?"

He studied her face for a moment, frowning, and Mary feared her attempts to conceal her emotions had been completely unsuccessful.

"I said I'm bored," he said. "Everyone's off doing something except us. Do you want to do something?"

She had been hoping to spend the evening with Lily, eating chocolate and drinking tequila in their pajamas while she made angry, spiteful comments about Stacy and Sirius. This plan had been thwarted, however, when Lily disappeared up to the dormitory with James after dinner. Remus still had not returned from the hospital wing, and Sirius was naked in some broom cupboard with Stacy, which left Peter to sit across from Mary and stare into the fire. If neither of them had anything in particular to do on a Saturday night, they may as well keep each other company as they passed the time.

"Absolutely," she said, and her face tightened into a look of grim determination. "Let's get stoned or drunk, I don't care which. Or fuck it, we can do both if you like."

Peter grinned. "I was going to suggest we play chess, but that works too."

Mary pushed her hair out of her face and sighed. "I just don't want to spend the whole night sitting here, bored out of my mind and thinking about… Well, I'd just like to be not sober, one way or another."

Peter raised his eyebrows but chose not to comment. "Let's get stoned, then. That way if Moony comes back and doesn't immediately fall asleep, we'll be less obnoxious than we are when we're drunk."

"Good thinking," Mary said with a shrug.

She Summoned the little zippered pouch where she stored the necessary items, then snatched up the book Lily had left on the table earlier and tucked it under her arm. Satisfied that she had everything she needed, she stood and gestured for Peter to follow her out of the portrait hole. Once they were out in the corridor, she hesitated, weighing her options before she led the way to the nearest window and slid to the floor.

"I'm too lazy to go to a proper smoking spot," she explained as she opened the window and pointed her wand at a suit of armor near the other end of the corridor. "But this worked fine last time we did it."

Peter sat down beside her, then watched in amusement as Mary levitated the suit of armor through the corridor and set it down in front of them so that it partially hid them from view. He did not ask who we referred to, and Mary was grateful, because she did not much fancy dwelling on her many memories with Sirius. As she unzipped the pouch and set out the marijuana and rolling papers on Lily's copy of A Separate Peace, she concentrated on rolling the joint, letting her mind get caught up in the familiar steps so that she did not have to think about anything else. When she finished, she took a moment to survey her work, feeling a sense of satisfaction as she put the neatly-rolled joint to her lips and lit it.

"What a fucking week," she said after exhaling a long stream of smoke out the window and passing the joint to Peter.

"What a fucking week," Peter repeated. He took a hit and coughed as he turned his head and released the smoke out the window. "You know, I don't want to take sides, because Sirius might actually murder me if I don't side with him, but he was a real arsehole to you earlier, and you didn't deserve it."

Mary nodded as she accepted the joint from him and put it to her lips. "Yeah, he was," she agreed. "It's not the first time, and I assume it won't be the last. I'm not going to lose sleep over it or anything."

Peter raised his eyebrows and fixed her with a pointed gaze. "I know there's no excuse, and I know how bloody awful it feels, because he normally takes it out on me instead of on you, but you know it's only because he's completely fucked up over you, right?"

Mary coughed as she choked on smoke. "Completely fucked up over me sounds a bit dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, yeah, but it's Sirius." Peter's words had become slow and languid as the marijuana worked its way through his system. "He's a dramatic bloke."

She replayed Sirius's insults in her head, hearing the venom that dripped from his words. "If he's fucked up over me, insulting me in front of our friends is a pretty shitty way to handle it." She frowned and wrapped a curl around her finger as she once again pictured Sirius's hands exploring Stacy's smooth, unblemished skin. "And so is shagging Stacy Tremblay."

Peter handed the tiny remaining joint to Mary, and she stubbed it out against the windowsill before flicking it out into the night.

"But it's Sirius," he repeated. "All of his coping mechanisms are a shitty way to handle problems. You know this as well as anyone."

"Yeah, I do, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I'm tired of watching him lash out at other people because he's hurt, when he wouldn't be hurt in the first place if he'd just bloody talk about how he feels." She shook her head and sighed, then heaved herself to her feet. "Come on, let's go back."

When they returned to the common room, Mary grabbed a blanket and pillow from one of the armchairs and stretched out on the floor. After a brief hesitation, Peter joined her. They lay on their backs for a moment, letting the fire warm them as the noise of the common room washed over them.

"I know he could've picked anyone and it really wouldn't make much of a difference, but why did he have to go and pick Stacy Tremblay?" She looked up at the ceiling and spotted one of James's rogue Snitches fluttering around. Entranced, she watched it, almost forgetting Peter was next to her until he spoke and jarred her concentration.

"I expect it was a matter of convenience," Peter said. "She's fancied him for ages, and then he runs into her and she offers to comfort him? He didn't even have to try." He lowered his voice as he added, "I don't much like her either, to be honest. She's a bit stuck up and mean, isn't she?"

Mary lifted her hair so it fanned out around the pillow. "She's not even his type. Or, at least, I didn't think she was. He usually prefers curvier girls, you know? Which I suppose is why I've overheard her calling me a fat tart at least three times."

Peter rolled over to face her, eyes wide. "Are you joking?" he demanded, his voice rising in indignation. "But that's not even true!"

"It's all right, Peter," Mary said, chuckling at his outrage. "I didn't take it to heart."

"I just think it's bloody uncalled for," Peter said, still fuming. "I mean, she's called me fat loads of times, but that's different. It's so obvious she's only insulting you because she's jealous you have a better body and Sirius prefers you over her."

Mary thought back to all the lazy afternoons spent lounging naked in Sirius's bed while he made offhand comments about the perfect shape of her arse or the soft curve of her breasts. She knew this was not just empty flattery, because he didn't bother with that sort of thing unless he was trying to convince a girl to sleep with him. He did prefer Mary over Stacy back then, and had even said so once, but now…

"It's okay," she repeated, rolling over to pat his shoulder. "I really don't care what she thinks about me. But thanks for saying that. You're a good friend, Pete, and if I ever hear her insulting you for your weight or anything else, I'll just hex her and put a stop to it."

Peter grinned. "That's not necessary, but I appreciate it all the same." He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "How come you didn't want to spend tonight with Eddie Edgecombe? He could probably use some comforting after Ravenclaw lost to Hufflepuff."

She blew a lock of hair out of her face. "He'll have to look to his hand for comfort tonight," she muttered, smirking, before clapping a hand over her mouth and looking sheepish. "Sorry, that was a bit mean, wasn't it? I just didn't think two nights in a row was a good idea. It felt too, I dunno, eager? Clingy?"

"That makes sense," Peter said. He stared over her shoulder into the fire for a moment, a thoughtful look in his blue eyes, before he added, "But you and Padfoot used to spend every night together."

"Yeah, well, we were different, weren't we," Mary said, not bothering to disguise the bitterness in her voice. "And look where that got us."

The intense sadness that washed over Peter's face made Mary regret her words, because up until now she hadn't realized the effect her fight with Sirius was having on the others.

"Do you think you and Padfoot will ever go back to the way things were before?" Peter asked, his voice so quiet that she had to strain to hear.

His voice was tinged with sadness, but she also detected a thread of hope that was even more heartbreaking. She let his words hang there as she considered the question. She imagined braiding Sirius's hair as he leaned back against her legs, laying on her stomach beside him in front of the fire as they did their homework, laughing about something stupid as they smoked together between classes, falling asleep together. A wistful expression crept across her face as the images filled her mind, and she yearned for these simple things she had taken for granted. Yet she couldn't forget the cruelty in Sirius's eyes as he had insulted Melanie in front of the entire common room, or the casual dismissal in his voice when he had suggested she leave the hospital wing, and now that he had treated her this way, she doubted they could ever regain the easy, comfortable existence they had shared.

"I dunno," she said finally, exhaling and rolling onto her back again. "I think it might be too late."

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. When she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder, she opened her eyes to see Peter resting his hand on her shoulder. He didn't speak, but kept his hand there, and somehow this was all the encouragement she needed. They stayed this way even after Remus returned from the hospital wing with Seven and looked at them in amusement before collapsing onto the sofa. Peter did not remove his hand from her shoulder until they looked up to find Sirius peering down at them, wearing a self-satisfied smirk and sporting several obvious marks on his neck that he made no effort to hide.

"The fuck are you two doing?" he asked, nudging Peter with his foot.

Mary didn't reply. Instead she stared, transfixed by the marks on Sirius's neck as she imagined how they had gotten there. Peter rolled over to face Sirius and grinned.

"We're laying on the floor," he said. "I don't really know why, but it's quite comfortable. We were going to play chess, but instead we, er…"

"Got stoned off your arses?" Sirius finished, "Yeah, I can tell." He raised his eyebrows. "Don't suppose you saved any for me?"

Mary finally tore her gaze away from Sirius's neck and shook her head. "Sorry, fresh out." She wasn't, in fact, fresh out, but she felt no desire to share with him if he was going to come parading around with hickies all over his neck.

Sirius shrugged. "That's a shame. Where's Moony?"

Peter pointed at the sofa, where Remus slept under a blanket with Seven curled next to him, reading a book. They watched as she turned a page, then leaned over to kiss the top of Remus's head.
"Merlin, they're adorable," Mary murmured, and Sirius nodded, meeting her eye. For a moment everything was as it had been before, and they were the old Sirius and Mary, bonding over their friends' newfound happiness.

Peter began to explain how Seven had forced the sofa's former occupants to move so Remus would have a spot to stretch his aching limbs, but Mary wasn't listening. Sirius had removed his jacket, and her eyes were drawn to a long, raised scratch on his left arm.

"What happened to your arm?" she asked, reaching out to touch it even though he was standing out of her reach.

Sirius glanced down at his arm and frowned. "If I told you I'd have to kill you," he said, shrugging back into his jacket so that the scratch was hidden from view."

The familiar mysterious air in his voice irritated her, and she found herself fixating once again on the marks on his neck.

"Did you get it the same way you got those?" she asked, pointing to his neck.

She didn't know what made her say it. Even before she had finished speaking, her words had shattered the fragile peace they had forged, and they were back to glaring at each other and trading angry, snarky comments.

"I did, actually," he said, flashing her a mirthless smile. "I have a few scratches down my back, too. Want to see?" He leaned closer, and his voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "Tremblay's learned a thing or two since last year. I don't even care if she picked it up from Bertram Aubrey, as long as she keeps bloody doing it."

Mary couldn't listen to any more of this. She heaved herself to her feet and picked up the little zippered pouch that rested by her feet.

"Night, Peter. Sod you, Black," she said before heading for the staircase.

The walk to her dormitory seemed to take an eternity. When she finally pushed open the door, she found to her relief that the room was deserted. With the last shred of energy she possessed, she put on "Space Oddity" and collapsed into bed fully clothed. The music lapped at the edges of her consciousness as she stared up at the ceiling.

I'm floating in a most peculiar way. She wondered what it would be like to be floating in space, weightless and free from the burdens of everyday life. As she lay there she began to feel unmoored and adrift like the astronaut in the song, and she wondered if she might float away if she allowed herself.

And the stars look very different today. A year and a half ago she and Sirius had shivered on plastic chairs among the twinkling fairy lights of the Potter's pool area, looking up at the stars and laughing as Sirius pointed out made up constellations. That night felt like it had been a lifetime ago, yet Mary could remember it perfectly, despite the firewhisky that should have dulled the memory.

Tell my wife I love her very much, she knows. Mary felt something wet roll down her cheek and splash onto the duvet. When she reached up to touch her face, she realized she was crying.