Saturday, December 10, 1977
A few scattered snowflakes began to fall as Remus and Seven walked along the dirt path to Hogsmeade. One landed on Seven's eyelash, and Remus reached over to brush it off. She glanced over at him and smiled, and he felt an unexplainable flutter of nervousness. They had been together for months, yet their first real date seemed important and momentous somehow, and he had a nagging fear that he would do something to mess it up.
"You look worried," she observed, and he marveled at her ability to know exactly what he was thinking even when he thought he had hidden his feelings behind a mask of casual happiness.
"Just hoping Sirius and James don't moon us," he said, grinning and tracing his gloved hand across her cheek to wipe away another snowflake.
"If seeing Sirius Black's naked arse is the price I have to pay to spend the day in Hogsmeade with you, then so be it," Seven said. "Nothing I haven't seen before, unfortunately."
He chuckled, feeling slightly reassured by her easy manner, and lifted one of her braids to dislodge the snow that clung to the ends. "Nothing most of Gryffindor hasn't seen before," he said, shaking his head in exasperation.
"It does feel very official, doesn't it? Going into Hogsmeade together, I mean." She came to a stop and stood smiling up at him. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and new snowflakes nestled on her eyelashes and in her hair. "I feel a little nervous," she admitted, and Remus felt a rush of relief and gratitude that she either felt the same way, or sensed his worry and made this comment to make him feel better. "That's silly, isn't it?"
"You don't have to be nervous," he said, bending to kiss her. A drop of melted snow fell from her hair and landed on his cheek, and her lips felt hot against his in the icy air. "But I don't think it's silly. I feel the same way, honestly."
She reached up and ran a hand through his hair, showering both of them with a cascade of snow and water. Remus blinked and wiped his eyes, grinning.
"Do you want to go to the bookstore first?" she suggested.
"I think we should," Remus said, setting off again with her gloved hand laced through his. Being around large quantities of books always put him at ease, and he knew Seven was the same way. "But if I find something I want to buy you, you have to leave the store so you don't see what it is, all right?"
"Well, then you have to do the same," she said, then glanced sideways at him and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.
They made their way into the village, weaving around other Hogwarts students and leaving footprints in the newly fallen snow. When Remus pulled open the door of the bookstore and stepped in after Seven, some of his nervousness eased as he breathed in the familiar scent of books. The hushed atmosphere of the store contrasted with the noisy, packed streets outside, and Remus took a moment to appreciate the silence as he and Seven wandered down the aisles. The shelves were crammed with books and reached all the way to the ceiling, and the jumble of titles and authors was so different from Madam Pince's precise system of organization in the Hogwarts library, but Remus had been in here often enough to figure out how to find what he needed.
His eyes roved over the packed shelves, in search of something that Seven might like. He watched her browse, taking note of anything that caught her eye. When she stood on tiptoe to pull a book on Dark Creatures from a high shelf and flipped through the pages to admire the detailed, color illustrations, Remus resolved to buy it despite the hefty price tag, because he could picture the two of them reading it together, tucked under a blanket as they shared a chocolate bar. He thought he noticed her paying as much attention to him as he perused the aisles, but when he tried to catch her watching him she tore her eyes away.
After they had each made a separate trip into the store while the other waited outside, they walked hand-in-hand towards Madam Puddifoot's, both looking rather pleased with themselves.
"What did you buy in there?" Seven asked, eying Remus's bag with interest.
"None of your business," he said, holding it closed so she couldn't see the contents. "What did you buy in there? Or did you even get anything?"
She had emerged from the bookstore empty handed, insisting she had stuffed her purchase inside the pocket of her heavy coat. Now she flashed him a knowing smile and shrugged.
"It's a secret," she said. "Now, do you think we should sit at a table near the back, in case they decide to come by and moon us?"
"I'm going to miss you over the holidays," Seven said once they were seated at a table near the back of the tea shop. "Reading alone just isn't the same. I mean, it's still brilliant, because it's reading, but I'd rather read with you."
Remus held his mug of hot chocolate in both hands, enjoying the warmth although it was too hot to drink. They were surrounded by several other couples, all talking quietly while holding hands or leaning in close to snog each other, oblivious to the other people sitting just feet away. In spite of all the distractions, Remus was hardly aware of anything going on around him as he thought about Seven sitting in her room at home, tucked under her duvet missing him as she read one of the books he planned to give her. The thought brought a smile to his face, even as he imagined how much he would feel her absence as he lay in the empty hospital wing.
"I'll miss you too," he said, tracing his thumb over her palm. "We'll just have to write lots of letters, I suppose."
"I suppose we will," she agreed. "You know, I looked forward to your letters this past summer probably more than I should have. I don't usually do much during the summers because my parents are so strict, so your letters were a nice break from homework and training for Quidditch." She took a sip of her hot chocolate and added, "We live way out in the middle of nowhere, which is great because there's plenty of room for Quidditch, but we're sort of isolated from everyone. It gets lonely, you know?"
Remus took a tentative sip of his hot chocolate, happy to discover it didn't scald his tongue. "I grew up sort of the same way. We didn't necessarily live away from other people, but we moved around a lot. My parents didn't want to stay in the same place for too long, so we always moved before people could start, er, asking too many questions."
He fell silent, realizing he hadn't discussed his childhood with anyone since James, Sirius, and Peter discovered his secret five years ago. Seven seemed to sense that Remus's family was one of the topics he preferred not to talk about, because she had thus far avoided asking any prying questions. The cozy interior of the tea shop and the snow falling outside the window and the slight flush of Seven's cheeks as she sipped her hot chocolate gave Remus an uncharacteristic urge to share.
"I didn't really have friends at all until I came to Hogwarts," he said, remembering the shy, insecure boy he had been at eleven and feeling grateful that James and Sirius had all but forced him to befriend them.
"I didn't really either," Seven said, and Remus felt a rush of affection for her, thinking about a much younger Seven spending lonely days studying on her own and wandering the woods and gardens by her house. "I didn't even really know how to make friends when I got here."
"Merlin, me neither," Remus said, chuckling. "I was surprised anyone wanted to be my friend, honestly." He held up a hand and added hastily, "I didn't mean that to sound so self-deprecating, but it's true."
He still couldn't believe it sometimes, but he kept that to himself, afraid to bring attention to his shortcomings in case it made Seven realize she deserved someone less damaged, less insecure.
"Who wouldn't anyone want to be your friend?" Her eyes locked onto his, full of earnest affection. "You're one of the nicest people I've ever met, and you have good books to borrow, and you always have chocolate."
She scooted her chair closer to his so she could lean over and kiss him. Her lips tasted of hot chocolate, and her words soothed him until the sense of doubt faded away into the background again.
"Thanks," he murmured once she pulled away.
She sat smiling at him, with her hand still cupping the side of his face. He could feel her gently tracing the faint scar that stretched across his jawline. He didn't feel the usual self-conscious shame he experienced when anyone acknowledged his scars; instead he felt his lips turn up into a smile, because the affection and acceptance in her gaze reassured him.
"No need to thank me," she said, pulling her hand away so she could take another sip of hot chocolate. "It's the truth. Now, have you figured out what to get Bertram Aubrey for secret Santa? Because I might have an idea."
Remus settled in to listen to her suggestions, wondering what he had done to get so bloody lucky.
"I need help figuring out a gift for my secret Santa," James announced as the four of them made their way all the path to Hogsmeade.
Lily, Peter, and Sirius exchanged a look.
"How are we supposed to help you if you won't tell us who it is?" Lily asked. "Remus told us who he's got, I dunno why you insist on being so mysterious."
"Because, Evans, it's called bloody secret Santa. That means it's meant to be a secret. But I can read you what they wrote on the questionnaire and you can give me suggestions." Without waiting for a response, he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and began to read. "Quidditch team: Sod quidditch, it's a waste of time. Favorite hobby: Reading. Favorite Honeydukes chocolate bar flavor: None, I hate chocolate-"
"Good thing Moony isn't here," Sirius interrupted. "He'd be horrified. Merlin, what sort of soulless person doesn't like chocolate?"
"This is what I have to work with, Padfoot," James said, sighing and running a hand through his hair before continuing to read from the parchment. "Favorite color: black. Favorite subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions. Something I need: socks. Favorite store: Borgin and Burkes-"
"It's Snape, isn't it?" Lily said, and her expression was a combination of amusement and irritation.
"I can neither confirm nor deny," James said.
"It's got to be," Peter said, glancing at the parchment over James's shoulder. "Listen to this. Please don't buy me: shampoo. Because we…" He couldn't finish his sentence because he was laughing too hard.
"Because we bought him that bottle of shampoo that was almost as tall as he is during fifth year," Sirius finished through snorts of laughter. "Bloody hell, the look on his face when he opened that was the funniest thing I've ever seen."
"He never could prove it was you lot that sent it, could he?" Lily asked, trying and failing to conceal her amusement.
James shook his head. "No, and honestly, he really had no reason to complain. We sent him a birthday present, and a thoughtful one at that. Clearly he was in need of shampoo, and that was enough to last him, what, a week at least?"
"Thoughtful birthday gift my arse," Lily said, but James could tell from her tone that she thought it was just as funny as he did. "There was a rude little note to go alone with it, wasn't there?"
"It wasn't a rude note," Sirius argued. "It was an instruction manual, because he obviously wasn't clear on how to use shampoo."
"The note was my favorite part," Peter said, grinning. "Bloody hell, I'd forgotten all about that."
"You're all horrible," Lily said. "Just the worst."
"But you love us," James said, blushing when he realized what he'd implied, and rushing to change the subject before Lily noticed his slipup. "So anyway, since you've all guessed who I have for secret Santa, tell me what the hell I'm supposed to buy for him?"
"Can't you just, I dunno, not get him anything?" Sirius suggested. "I'd rather die than buy Snivellus a Christmas gift."
"The secret Santa exchange was my bloody idea," James said. "I can't just not get him anything. It's Christmas, and that trumps personal biases or grudges. Even if it is Snape." He sighed and drew to a stop at the edge of the village, moving aside to let several Hufflepuffs pass. "Where should we go first? Any ideas?"
Peter hesitated. "This might be a stupid idea, but didn't he say he needed socks? Why don't we go to Gladrags and you can just pick out a few pairs? There's nothing offensive about socks, right?"
James mulled this over for a moment, then nodded.
"I think I like it. Except I don't think it would be very festive to get just normal, boring socks."
Sirius grinned. "Definitely not festive enough. I think you need to pick out the most outrageous socks Gladrags has to offer."
"I don't suppose it'll do any good to remind you he said his favorite color is black," Lily said, wrapping an arm around James and flashing him a reproachful smile.
"Nope, no good at all," he said, draping his arm around her shoulders and setting off down the sidewalk towards Gladrags.
When they stepped inside the shop, James led the way through various displays of robes, jumpers, and other articles of clothing until they reached a table piled high with socks in various colors. He bypassed the white, black, and grey options, dismissing them as too boring, and examined a selection of holiday-themed socks.
"Hmmm…" he mused, holding up a pair of socks in each hand. "Which one of these would go best with greasy hair, a shifty little frown, and a hatred of chocolate?"
"I can't picture him wearing either of those," Peter said, a note of apology in his voice.
"I think maybe the ones with snowmen," Sirius said after studying both pairs of socks with careful consideration. "Those beady little snowmen eyes remind me a bit of Snivelly."
"No, I prefer the dogs with Santa hats," Lily said. A mischievous smile spread over her face as she added, "He doesn't like dogs."
"If we're looking for socks patterned with things he doesn't like, how about these Quidditch socks?" Peter said, holding up a pair of socks with little brooms, Quaffles, Snitches, and Bludgers all over them.
"Well, hang on, I think someone needs to get those for me for Christmas," James said. "And I don't want to have matching socks with bloody Snape, if it's all the same to you."
"Or what about these?" Peter said, holding up another pair printed with chocolate bars. On the bottom of the socks it read IF YOU CAN READ THIS, BRING ME SOME CHOCOLATE.
"No, we have to get those for Moony," James said, grinning. "Those were literally made with Moony in mind."
"How about these, Prongs?" Sirius held up a pair of plain black socks, smirking.
"Those aren't very festive," James said, frowning.
"No, but it says they scream if they get too smelly, which seems like a right thoughtful gift for our greasy little friend, since he has such a hard time with personal hygiene," Sirius said as he pointed to the label next to the socks which detailed the unique feature.
"I think you should also get these unicorn ones," Lily said, pressing them into James's hand. "For no particular reason other than I like them and I feel like pink unicorn socks are the least Snape-like thing I can think of."
"Brilliant, if I get those four pairs for him, I think that's a decent Christmas gift," James said, bringing the socks up to the counter and feeling an unexpected sense of relief. "And nobody can say I got him a shit gift, because these are all excellent, and anyone with any sense would love to have these."
After James finished his purchase, they all filed out of the shop and back out onto the sidewalk. The snow was falling a bit faster now, and it had begun to accumulate on the street and blanket the shops and houses. James reached for Lily's hand, feeling a rush of pure joy as he took in the picturesque sight of the snow-covered village and the Christmas decorations that twinkled out of windows and the snowflakes that perched in Lily's bright hair. On a day like today it was hard to believe they were on the brink of a war, because all of that felt so far away from the chattering students and holiday garlands.
"What can we get for Mum and Dad?" Sirius asked as the four of them made their way along the sidewalk. "It's got to be something good to make up for not going home for Christmas."
James glanced back at Sirius, surprised and touched by this uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness. Usually Sirius would just add his name to whatever gift James had bought, or else he would appeal to Remus for gift suggestions. James exchanged a look with Lily, and she too seemed to have noticed the slightly anxious and earnest note in Sirius's voice, because she squeezed James's hand and looked back at Sirius with a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't look at me like that," Sirius snapped, correctly reading their expressions. "I just want to get them a decent gift, that's all."
"No, you're right," James said, running a hand through his hair as he thought. "Oh, you know what they would really like? You're going to hate it, though."
Sirius raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.
James continued, "We should take a nice photo of us and have it framed. They're always going on about how they don't have enough pictures of us hanging up in the parlor. We could wear the Christmas sweaters and everything, they'll love it."
Sirius sighed. "You're right, I do hate it. But they will love it, so I suppose I can put up with a bloody photograph if I must." He frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets. "But we don't have the Christmas sweaters, do we?"
James grinned at Sirius over his shoulder. "I had them send them up when I found out we weren't going home for Christmas. Couldn't let you go a whole year without wearing that thing, could I? Now come on, let's see if we can find a nice frame somewhere before you have to go meet up with Stacy."
Mary sipped her Butterbeer, wishing she had ordered something stronger. She hadn't minded wandering through the shops with Eddie, getting their Christmas shopping done and ducking into the alleys between shops to snog in between purchases. Now, however, they had exhausted the topics of conversations that were interesting to both parties, and Mary was reminded why she normally limited her interactions with Eddie to brief dalliances in empty classrooms. As he described his plans for the Christmas holidays, Mary sneaked a surreptitious glance across the pub at the little booth where Sirius and Stacy sat, talking and laughing over two glasses of firewhisky. To her dismay, she noticed that the snow had done little to upset the smooth, sleek sheet of hair that fell down Stacy's back, and Sirius's hair was similarly unaffected. She scowled as she patted her own hair, frizzy and damp from the accumulated snowflakes.
"Anyway, Slughorn approached me today and invited me to his party next weekend," Eddie was saying. "So I didn't know if you'd like to go with me?"
Mary tore her gaze away from Sirius and Stacy and replayed Eddie's words in her head, scrambling to make sense of them.
"What? Slughorn invited you to his party? I didn't know you were a Sluggy."
He smiled, looking slightly self-conscious. "Well, I'm not. Or, I didn't used to be. I dunno, my dad just got a promotion at work, and I guess Slughorn found out about it, because all of a sudden he was very keen to invite me."
He shrugged and took a sip of his Butterbeer, leaving a trace of whipped cream lingering on his lips. Mary studied him, trying to decide if this was endearing or embarrassing.
"I think the whole thing's kind of silly, to be honest, but the food and drinks will be good, and I hear Kevin Broadmoor's coming, you know, Jeff Broadmoor's dad who has the Quidditch radio show, and possibly Rosie Roberts, she plays for-"
"The Harpies, I know," Mary said, recalling that Sirius had once said he wouldn't mind shagging her, although he had resented her ever since the Cannons traded her to the Harpies.
"Er, yeah," Eddie said, looking surprised but impressed. "I'm not a Harpies supporter, but I wouldn't mind meeting her. She's bloody talented."
"And I don't suppose it hurts that she's quite attractive?" Mary asked, eyebrows raised.
Eddie grinned. "Well, no, it doesn't hurt. So anyway, do you fancy it? Going to the party with me, I mean. It doesn't have to be any big thing, I just think it'd be more fun to go with you than to go alone."
He sat there looking at her with an easy grin on his face, tracing the condensation ring his Butterbeer mug had left on the table. A peal of laughter reached Mary's ears, and her eyes were drawn across the room to where Stacy had leaned closer to Sirius to touch his arm and laugh at whatever he had just said. Her gaze returned to Eddie's earnest, handsome face, and she considered his offer with a sense of resignation.
"Yeah, all right," she said, trying to convince herself she was excited about the prospect of dressing up and drinking champagne while Eddie fawned over the two Quidditch stars. Suddenly the cozy warmth of the pub felt stifling, and she pushed back from her chair and stood, desperate for fresh air. "I'm going outside to smoke," she said when Eddie looked at her, confused. "Be right back."
She wove through the crowded pub until she reached the door and pushed it open to step through into the chilly afternoon. The snow was falling more heavily now, coating the ground in a thick blanket and making Mary shiver as it landed in her hair. She pulled up her hood and tightened her coat around herself before lighting a cigarette and leaning against the side of the pub in an effort to shelter against the cold. As she exhaled and watched the smoke mingle with the snow, she felt a familiar sense of longing that she attempted to tamp down with another drag on the cigarette.
The hum of conversation and laughter in the pub and the warmth of the firewhisky gave Sirius a happy, detached feeling as he sat nestled in the booth with Stacy. She had chosen to squeeze in beside him rather than taking the seat across from him, and although she claimed this was to avoid a draft, he knew it was so she could lean in close and touch his shoulder and bump her knee against his, which was fine with him. His seat also afforded him a perfect view of Mary's table on the other side of the pub, so he could sneak glances at her while pretending to look at the street out the window or check the clock that hung above the bar. The snow had settled in her hair, making it frizz despite her best efforts to flatten it. He smiled to himself, remembering the insane amounts of Sleekeazy's he had seen her use, when he realized Stacy was looking at him, waiting for a response.
"Hmm?" he said, focusing on the girl next to him instead of the one across the room.
She looked at him curiously but didn't press him further."I said, are you looking forward to the holidays? I can't wait to get out of here. Homework and prefect duties are bloody killing me."
"I'm staying here, actually," he said before draining the last of his drink. "We all are. We might be the only people left in the whole castle, by the sounds of it, but we'll make the best of it."
"Oh," she said, sounding taken aback, and Sirius wondered whether she had been planning to ask him to meet up in London or something. "Well, at least your friends will be here, too. But won't you get, you know, lonely?" She slid her hand underneath the table and rested it on his thigh to illustrate her meaning.
The bell above the door jangled as Mary stepped outside, and Sirius watched through the window as she lit a cigarette and huddled against the cold to smoke. He was aware of Stacy's hand trailing up and down his leg, but he felt a sudden urge to follow Mary outside, even though he had no idea what he would say to her or if she would even talk to him.
"I suppose I'll have to keep myself company," he said, smirking and brushing his hand against her thigh before extricating himself from the booth. "I'm going out for a cigarette. Get yourself another drink if you like, and get me one while you're up there if you don't mind."
He placed a handful of coins on the table and strode off across the room, zipping up his leather jacket with one hand as he pushed the door open and reached for his cigarettes with the other. It took him several tries to get his cigarette lit in the wind, but once he managed he took a long drag and leaned back against the building several feet from Mary, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Hi, Macdonald," he said, giving her a brisk nod before putting the cigarette to his lips again.
She looked over at him through a cloud of smoke and returned the nod.
"Hi, Black," she said as she shook snow from her hair.
They fell silent for a minute, and Sirius was struck by the sheer pointlessness of this distance between them. How had the easy, comfortable silences and the wordless communication and the many inside jokes been reduced to brief greetings and nods of acknowledgement?
"Tremblay doesn't smoke, then?" Mary asked, peering through the window at the booth where Stacy now sat alone, gazing down at her firewhisky with a despondent expression.
"Nah," Sirius said, sending a bit of ash plummeting down into the snow below. "And neither does Edgecombe, I assume."
Mary shook her head, dislodging more snow. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and the tips of her fingers looked half-frozen as she fumbled to keep a grip on her cigarette.
"You cold?" he asked, then pulled out his wand and performed a warming charm without waiting for a response.
"I was fine," she insisted, but Sirius could see the relief on her face as her fingers began to thaw. She took another drag on her cigarette, then added, "I've just agreed to go to Slughorn's party with Edgecombe."
The statement took him by surprise, both because he hadn't realized Eddie had been invited, and because the revelation was so unexpected.
"Yeah?" he said, feigning nonchalance. "I'm going with Tremblay. Apparently Rosie Roberts is supposed to be there."
Mary smirked and wrapped a strand of hair around her finger. "Are you going to try to shag her?"
Sirius shook his head, grinning. "Not now that she's left the Cannons. She's bloody dead to me, no matter how nice her arse is."
Mary rolled her eyes. "Liar. If she came up to you at the party and said, 'Black, you're the sexiest bloody thing I've ever seen in my life, please take me back to your dormitory and shag me senseless, you expect me to believe you'd tell her to sod off?"
"Well, all right, no I wouldn't," Sirius said, chuckling. "But I'm pretty sure she fancies witches anyway, so it's a moot point. You have a better chance of pulling her than I do."
Mary took one last drag on her cigarette before dropping it into the snow and grinding it out beneath her toe.
"Then it's a pity I prefer brunettes," she said, shoving her hands into her pockets.
"The fuck are you doing with Edgecombe, then?" Sirius asked before he could stop himself.
Mary looked at him for a moment with an unreadable expression on her face, before her face split into a smile and she laughed softly.
"Sod you, Black," she said, reaching over to brush snow from his jacket before she turned and headed back into the Three Broomsticks.
Sirius watched her through the window as she returned to her seat and reached for the drink Eddie had bought for her. He could still feel the spot where she had touched his jacket; he imagined he could feel the heat of her hand through the leather. As he finished his cigarette and ground out the butt beneath his boot, he replayed their brief conversation in his head and found himself wishing he was returning to the pub to share a booth and a drink with Mary. You absolute bloody idiot, he thought, stepping out of the snow and wind and retreating back to the warmth of the pub and Stacy's attention.
"Do you see that?" Lily murmured, nudging James and gesturing out the window at the two figures smoking side-by-side, hunched against the snow. "Even if they're just out there smoking together and not talking, that's the most time I've seen the two of them spend alone together in ages. I think it's a very good sign."
James followed her gaze and nodded, then looked back at Lily with a knowing smile on his face. "You're plotting something," he observed. "Out with it, Evans."
She smiled, torn between irritation that she couldn't keep anything from him, and affection for him for the very same reason.
"I'm not plotting anything. I was just thinking, maybe it's time we tried to get them back together." Her eyes strayed back to their two friends braving the cold together at the exact same time. That couldn't have been coincidence, could it? "It's infuriating, watching them both gaze longingly at each other while they're on dates with other people. I think we need to give them a nudge in the right direction."
James ran a hand through his hair and frowned. Lily watched him out of the corner of her eye, admiring the crease that formed above his brow, the thoughtful look in his hazel eyes, the slight crookedness of his glasses. She called this his thinking face and she found it adorable, even more so because he knew it and teased her every time he caught her watching him.
"I'm doing the face again, aren't I?" he asked, and Lily hastily tore her gaze away and assumed an innocent expression.
"I don't know what face you mean," she said, looking puzzled.
"Yes you do, it's my thinking face or whatever you call it, and you think it's adorable." He leaned over and brushed aside a strand of her hair, then kissed her cheek. "It's okay, it's perfectly understandable. Everything I do is adorable. Anyway, I think you're right. It's time we give them a bit of encouragement, because they really should be back together by Christmas, don't you think? We'll have to tread carefully, though, because if we try too hard to force it it'll just end up driving them further apart, so we've got to come up with a plan and stick to it, all right?"
She reached over to straighten his glasses, enjoying the enthusiasm and determination in his voice at the prospect of reuniting their friends, and nodded.
"Yeah, all right. So what're you thinking for a plan?"
"Hang on," James said, pointing across the pub at Peter, who was approaching them with drinks clutched in his hand, followed by Remus and Seven.
"Look who I found," Peter said, taking the seat across from James. "I've promised them there will be no mooning if they join us."
"Well that should be easy enough, seeing as Padfoot is otherwise occupied," James said, shifting over so Remus and Seven could join them. "Settle in, because we're about to devise a plan to get those two idiots back together." He pointed out the window, where Sirius and Mary still stood smoking in the steadily falling snow, then ran a hand through his hair and began to outline his ideas.
Sunday, December 11, 1977
Mary glanced around the common room, then sat forward in her chair and asked, "Lily, do you have something I could borrow to wear to Slughorn's Christmas party?"
Lily sat on the floor with a gift box and a roll of Christmas wrapping paper, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she measured and cut the wrapping paper and began to fold it around the box. When Mary tapped her on the shoulder, she set down the box and looked up.
"What? Oh, yeah, probably. But I didn't realize you were going to Slughorn's Christmas party!" She gaped at Mary indignantly, her scissors forgotten in her hand. "When were you going to tell me?"
"I'm telling you now," Mary said, her voice calm. "Edgecombe asked me yesterday, and I didn't really have a reason to say no." She cast a pointed glance at the scissors, and Lily lowered them, looking sheepish. "He doesn't usually go to those things, but apparently Slughorn invited him, and he's all excited to meet what's-her-face, the Seeker from the Harpies."
"Oh, yeah, James is eager to meet her as well," Lily said. Hang on, Remus, is it you who fancies her?"
"It's not me!" Remus said, glancing sideways at Seven in alarm. "It's, well, it's Sirius, although I dunno if 'fancies' is the right word."
"I think the phrase he used is he 'wouldn't throw her out of bed,'" Mary said, and Remus was glad to see she didn't seem at all bothered by the casual mention of Sirius. "Anyway, Lily, I was thinking maybe I could borrow that red dress?"
"Yeah, I suppose," Lily said, sighing and standing up. "Would you like to go try it on now?"
"Yes please," Mary said happily, hopping to her feet and following Lily across the common room to the staircase before disappearing from sight.
"You know, I wouldn't be at all offended if you did fancy Rosie Roberts," Seven said. "She's brilliant. Just so talented, and she's really made a name for herself now that she's with the Harpies."
"Oh, yeah, she's one of your favorite players, isn't she?" Remus asked, remembering Seven pouring over an article about the Seeker in one of her Quidditch magazines and gushing over her latest game-winning catch.
"Yeah, she is," Seven said, her tone wistful. "I'd love to meet her." She sighed and toyed with the end of her braid. "Maybe I can convince James to get her autograph for me."
Remus frowned. "Isn't your friend Tommy going to the party? Maybe he would-"
"No," Seven said, shaking her head. "He's planning to ask Abby Gamp. He's liked her for ages, and apparently she's split up with Jeffrey Broadmoor, so…" Her voice trailed off and she gave a sigh of resignation. "It's all right. I'd feel bad going without you anyway."
Remus felt the beginnings of a plan forming in his head, but he pushed this aside to return to later. Instead he reached for Seven's hand and gave it a squeeze.
"You don't ever have to feel bad about going to parties without me. I'm useless at parties. And just so you know, I don't fancy Rosie Roberts," he said, looking over at her and smiling.
Seven laughed softly and turned to look at him. "You sure? Because she's quite pretty, although she's not at all my type."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "What exactly is your type, then?"
She looked him up and down, then said, "Tall, thin, light brown hair, always reading a book and eating chocolate." She flashed him an apologetic smile and added, "Hopeless at Quidditch, but looks adorable on a broom anyway."
"There's no way I look adorable on a broom," Remus said before leaning over to kiss her. "But it's sweet of you to say so." He hesitated, glancing at the stairs to the boys' dormitory and feeling himself blush as she followed his gaze. "James and Sirius will be out playing Quidditch for a while, and Peter's just left for the library, and Lily will be busy with Mary for a bit, so I was thinking, if you'd like to go upstairs…"
A wicked smile spread across her face as she nodded and got to her feet.
"Should we bring our books or leave them here?" she asked.
Remus wrapped an arm around her waist and grinned. "You decide."
She considered the book for a moment before scooping it up and reaching for Remus's as well, careful not to dislodge his bookmark or bend the pages.
"I'll bring them for after," she said, and the look in her eyes was so enticing that he couldn't look away, even as they made their way up the stairs and he had to take care not to trip.
As he searched for the usual tie to hang on the door and marveled that for once he was the one to use it rather than James or Sirius, Seven looked around the room before taking a seat on the edge of Remus's bed.
"How'd you know this one's mine?" he asked as he sat down beside her.
She didn't reply, but pointed to the several books on his bedside table and the chocolate bar beside them, before picking up a cardigan that he had left folded on his pillow and placing it on top of the books.
"It wasn't exactly hard to figure out," she said, slipping off her shoes and pulling herself up onto the bed. "It's exactly like I pictured it, actually, except you're missing the Rosie Roberts poster."
"I told you I don't fancy her," Remus murmured, kicking off his shoes and stretching out next to her.
"Prove it," she said softly before leaning in to kiss him and ending the conversation.