Friday, January 6, 1977
"Mind your tea, Macdonald," Sirius said through a mouthful of toast.
She frowned and curled her fingers around the handle of her mug. "Why?"
Sirius gestured at the newspaper obscuring most of Lily's face. Harold Minchum waved from the front page, his shiny bald head contrasting sharply with his huge, drooping mustache. Behind the newspaper, Lily grumbled under her breath between sips of coffee.
"Beverages don't stand a chance when Minchum is up to his usual bollocks," Sirius said.
A few minutes later Sirius was munching his second piece of toast when Lily muttered "Useless bloody arsehole" and tossed her newspaper aside in irritation. Sirius flung out his arm and managed to stop the newspaper before it knocked over Mary's tea, although the plate containing his half-eaten toast clattered to the floor in the process.
"Thanks, Black," Mary said, picking up her mug and draining it. "You even warned me, and I still didn't have the sense to move it myself."
"Yeah, well, I knew you weren't going to listen," Sirius said, shrugging. He bent to retrieve his plate, then picked up the newspaper Lily had discarded. "What is it this time, Evans? Is it the score of the Cannons latest match against the Harpies that's upset you? Because if so, I don't blame you."
Lily sighed and studied her breakfast with disinterest before pushing the plate away. "No, it's not the bloody Cannons. It's this whole stupid bloody paper. There's a whole page about the tightened security measures at Azkaban, as though we don't all know that just means more dementors. Then there's another half page about how Minchum is cracking down on dark wizards, when all that means is Aurors are authorized to use the Cruciatus during interrogations and people can be throw in Azkaban without a trial–"
"And I'm sure you have opinions about those that you're going to share with us whether we want to hear them or not," Sirius said under his breath.
"Padfoot, I'd shut up if you want to live to see dinner, but that's your call, I suppose," James whispered back, widening his eyes in alarm.
"It just makes me so bloody angry!" She picked up her fork and stabbed the sausage on her plate. "I wish I could give those tossers a piece of my mind. I can hardly think straight, I'm so angry. "
Mary sipped her second cup of tea. "Then why do you bother reading it, if it's just going to make you angry? "
Lily set down her fork so hard that the rest of her sausage bounced onto the floor. "Because I need to know. I have to keep myself informed of what's going on, even if it's infuriating."
Mary wrapped a curl around her finger and frowned. "I'd rather not know. If I don't know, it can't ruin my day."
Lily heaved an impatient sigh and turned to Sirius. He had formed the newspaper into a cylinder and was peering through it like a telescope. When he noticed Lily's gaze, he stopped looking down Mary's shirt and aimed the "telescope" at Lily.
"What's up, Evans?" he asked, grinning.
Lily rolled her eyes and snatched the newspaper out of his hand. "Doesn't this make you angry?"
Sirius shrugged. "Sure it does, but shouting about it at breakfast isn't going to convince Harold Minchum not to be an arsehole." He drummed his fingers against the table. "And besides marching down to the Ministry and directing your complaints to him directly, I'm not sure there's anything you can do, besides maybe a strongly-worded letter–"
"That's it," Lily said, jabbing the newspaper into the air so that James had to dodge sideways to avoid being hit in the face. "I'll write him a letter."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "And by him you mean…?"
"Harold Minchum," Lily said, snapping the newspaper back open.
"Right. And you're going to keep reading that newspaper even though you threw it across the table just two minutes ago?"
Lily heaved an impatient sigh. "I need to go over all the points I want to address in my letter," she said before burying her face in the paper once again.
Sirius leaned across the table toward James and lowered his voice."Your girlfriend is mental, Prongs," Sirius said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"She is a bit mental, isn't she?" James whispered. "But I love her for it."
James's face took on a dreamy expression as he watched Lily glower down at the newspaper. Sirius caught Mary's eye and shook his head. "Sentimental sod," he mouthed.
"Thanks for the idea, Sirius," Lily said a few minutes later as she folded up the newspaper and shoved it into her bag. "And don't look at me like that, all of you. I know you think I'm wasting my time, but I don't care. I don't understand how you're not all as fired up about this as I am."
"I don't think you're wasting your time," James said as he reached over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I wish Harold Minchum could meet you, because I'm pretty sure he'd resign after about five minutes. Who knows – maybe your letter will have the same effect."
Lily smiled. "Thanks, James," she said, leaning over to kiss him.
Sirius stood up and nodded at Mary. "Come on, Macdonald. Let's go have a smoke before Charms. Unless you'd rather sit here and watch these two snog."
"How does she have the energy for all that righteous anger?" Mary asked once they were out of earshot. "I'm exhausted just listening to her."
"I dunno." Sirius draped an arm around her, enjoying the familiar way her body fit against his. "I don't think they shag as much as we do. I suppose she's got to get the energy out somehow."
They both laughed as they pushed open the doors and settled on the front steps to smoke, and as the nicotine hit Sirius's bloodstream he sighed, glad to put Harold Minchum's politics out of his mind for the time being.
Later Sirius sat on the floor in front of the fire, leaning back against Mary's legs as she pulled his hair into a loose braid. They passed his flask back and forth, warmed by the fire and the liquor as they watched Remus and Peter play chess. Sirius was relaxed enough to doze off, but that seemed like a waste of a perfectly good buzz. He picked up an abandoned copy of The Daily Prophet and flipped through it for something to keep himself awake. He was halfway through an article about the ill-fated Cannons game when Lily sat down across from him and set out parchment, quill, and ink on the table in front of her.
"Evans, it's Friday night," Sirius said, eying the parchment in front of her. "Have a drink, play some Exploding Snap, or put on something sexy for when Prongs gets back from practice. Do whatever you like, but for fuck's sake, don't do homework. You're bringing down my Friday night."
"I'm not doing homework," Lily said without looking up from her parchment. "I'm writing a letter to Harold Minchum."
"Tell him I said hello," Remus said, looking up from the chess board and grinning.
Lily frowned down at the parchment, then dipped her quill into the ink and continued writing. "Yeah, alright," she said absently.
Remus and Peter resumed their game while Lily scribbled away. Sirius returned to his newspaper, and Mary read over his shoulder as she undid his braid and pulled his hair into a bun. The flask was almost empty and Sirius was considering refilling it when Lily gave a satisfied sigh. Taking one last look at her letter, she folded it up and sealed it inside an envelope before leaving for the owelry.
When Lily returned, she sat down and heaved an irritated sigh, then scowled into the fire as she waited for James to get back from Quidditch practice.
"Lily, why do you look so grumpy?" Mary asked. "Cheer up."
"Want a drink?" Sirius offered her the flask that he had refilled only minutes prior. "You look thirsty."
She waved away the flask and slouched down further in her chair. "I'm not in the mood."
"Do you want to play a game of chess?" Remus offered.
"Or we can switch to Exploding Snap," Peter said. "So everyone can play."
Lily shook her head and continued to stare into the flames.
Sirius took a sip from the flask, then gave Lily's leg a gentle prod with his foot. "Come on, Evans, it's no use brooding over The Daily Prophet. Why let it ruin your Friday night?"
"Because forgetting about it and getting drunk isn't going to make the problems go away," Lily said, straightening in her seat and crossing her arms.
She was tense, rigid, tightly wound and ready to snap at any moment. Sirius could sense her itching for a fight; her sour expression begged him to challenge her. For a moment Sirius was tempted, but the atmosphere in the common room was relaxed and cozy, and the fire and alcohol made him mellow and lazy.
"Suit yourself," he said, leaning his head back further to give Mary better access to his hair. If Lily wanted to spend the evening being miserable, well, that was her prerogative. Good luck with that, Prongs. His eyes drifted shut as Mary's fingernails massaged his scalp.
"It really doesn't make you angry?" Lily said after a few minutes. "How can you just sit there sipping firewhisky when the Ministry is doing things like this?"
Her hands formed tight fists in her lap, and her eyes were lit with indignation fueled by the past few minutes of silent fuming. Sirius looked around at Remus and Peter, but they continued their chess game and avoided Lily's eye. He didn't bother glancing at Mary, because he knew better than to expect her to be drawn into such a futile and frustrating conversation. Engaging in this argument was a bad idea – he was certain of this, and yet the defiant set of Lily's jaw was impossible to ignore. All right, Evans. Game on.
"Doing things like what, exactly?" he asked, pulling his head away from Mary's soothing touch.
"Things like throwing more dementors at a problem like it's the solution to everything, and using the Cruciatus Curse during interrogations, and chucking people in Azkaban without a trial!" Her voice rose, drawing curious looks from other Gryffindors sitting nearby, but Lily paid them no mind. Her eyes locked onto Sirius's, daring him to disagree with her.
"Well, why should these people get a trial?" he asked, increasing his volume to match hers. "If five witnesses saw Davey Death Eater torture and kill a family of Muggles, why waste the time and resources on a trial when everyone knows he's guilty?"
"But what if he's not guilty?" she demanded. Her face was flushed, and she sat at the edge of her seat. "What if the witnesses are lying, or are confused about what they saw–"
"Evans, what is there to be confused about? The Killing Curse is pretty bloody easy to recognize. If you see someone point their wand at a person and then the person fucking keels over, you don't need twelve N.E.W.T.s to understand what happened."
"I'm just saying, everyone deserves a trial, Sirius!"
She sprang to her feet and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. He kept an eye on her right hand, because he wouldn't put it past her to hex him when she was this angry.
"And I'm just saying, I think you're getting upset just for the sake of getting upset!" he shot back, getting to his feet. A few minutes ago he had entered the argument just to toy with her, but he realized it was no longer a joke. Now he was just as angry as she was, because somehow her criticism felt like a personal attack. He heard her words echoing in his mind: How can you just sit there sipping firewhisky when the Ministry is doing things like this? The unspoken accusation was clear – he was a lazy, drunken coward who wasn't doing enough. Sod you, Evans. Where do you get off being so self-righteous?
"Innocent people rotting in Azkaban isn't a legitimate reason to get upset?"
He laughed, but it was a bitter, mirthless laugh. "What fucking people, Evans? Just to be clear, this is all hypothetical."
"But it's not going to be hypothetical for long!"
"Black?"
Sirius felt a light touch on his arm and looked down to see Mary, her face clouded with apprehension. He shook her off and turned back to Lily, dimly aware of Remus and Peter watching with mingled fascination and fear.
"If someone murders your family, Evans, do you really expect me to believe you'd be calling for them to have a fair trial?"
"Don't–"
"Of course you wouldn't! You'd want them given to the dementors as fast as possible!"
"Black!" Mary's voice was more insistent this time, and her grip on his arm was firm and harder to shake off. "There's no need to shout at her like that."
"Leave it, Macdonald!" Sirius wrenched his arm out of her grasp. "She's the one that's bloody shouting."
"Don't point your wand at me, Sirius!" Lily exclaimed, her eyes widening in alarm.
"I'm not!"
But to his surprise he looked down and realized his wand was clutched in his hand. He held it away from his body, staring at it as though he'd never seen it before. Lily watched him for a moment, then shook her head in disgust and whirled around.
"I'm done talking to you," she called as she headed for the staircase. "It's a waste of time when you're clearly not bloody listening to me."
"Maybe I'd listen if you had something fucking useful to say!" he shouted.
She made no reply except to hold up a two finger salute before disappearing up the staircase to the girls' dormitory.
"Fucking Evans," he said. "She's mental."
He looked to the others for validation, but Peter and Remus sat there blinking at him, hesitant to say anything at all. Mary wore a neutral, disengaged expression as she braided her hair, but he sensed a hint of disapproval in the slight curl of her lip that he didn't appreciate. He looked down and saw he still held his wand. Scowling, he shoved it back into his pocket, feeling the eyes of curious and apprehensive Gryffindors boring into him as they waited to see what he would do next.
"Sod you, then," he said, stooping to grab his flask from the floor beside Mary's feet before he turned and strode across the room to the staircase.
When he reached the dormitory he didn't bother turning on the lights. He collapsed onto his bed and lay there with his shoes on, fuming and fumbling around in the dark until he found his cigarettes. Fucking Evans, he thought, taking a savage pleasure in smoking with the window shut. Ruining my Friday night with her stupid bloody politics. He smoked in brooding silence, wondering idly whether Mary or James would come to talk him around first. Good fucking luck.
By the time James made it up to the dormitory to sit on the edge of his bed, Sirius had removed his shoes, then his jacket, shirt, and trousers for good measure. His clothes formed a crumpled heap beside his trunk, and he was sprawled sideways across his bed, smoking yet another cigarette.
"Padfoot, why do you insist on picking fights with my girlfriend?"
"She picked a fight with me," he said without bothering to look up at James. He could picture the exact look on his friend's face: half irritated, half affectionate, with his glasses askew and his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. In spite of himself, Sirius's anger began to ebb away.
"Still." James lit his wand, then went to his trunk and returned with a fluttering Snitch clutched in his hand. He sat down and began toying with it as he spoke. It was barely visible in the thin beam of light, yet he didn't miss a single catch. "You should know better by now, mate."
Sirius stubbed his cigarette against the bedpost and tossed it onto the ground. "She should know better. Why the fuck would she want to bring all of that up on a Friday night?"
James made a grab for the Snitch and watched the futile beating of its little wings against his hand. "I expect she's just scared and doesn't know how to handle everything that's happening." He opened his hand and released the Snitch, then glanced over at Sirius. "Which I realize is exactly the way you feel, too, but Evans was too upset about having a wand pointed at her to pick up on that."
Sirius swung his body around, stretching his legs out on the bed and propping his head against his arm. "I never said I was scared," he said. As if on cue, a nagging sense of dread bubbled up and infected his thoughts, so he lit another cigarette, hoping the nicotine and distraction would keep it at bay.
"I know you didn't," James said, stopping the Snitch before it flew out of reach. He left the rest of the sentence unfinished but still understood: But that doesn't mean you're not.
"I didn't mean to point my wand at her," he muttered. He felt around on the bed for the flask, but his hand came up empty.
James leaned down and picked up the flask from the floor in front of the bed, then took a sip before passing it to Sirius. "I know you didn't," he said again. "But you should probably apologize."
Sirius took a sip from the flask followed by a long drag on his cigarette. He wished he could go back to an hour ago, sitting in front of the fire while Mary played with his hair. That cozy, relaxed feeling seemed a lifetime ago.
"I know," he said, dreading the conversation already. "But I'm not doing it tonight."
"That's probably for the best. I doubt she'd even talk to you tonight," James said.
James looked around for the Snitch and spotted it hovering above Peter's bed. Feeling his way through the dark, he climbed on top of Remus's trunk and jumped. In the dim light of the room, Sirius saw James's close over the Snitch just before he knocked his shin into the bedpost on the way down, grabbing Peter's curtains to keep from toppling over.
"That was graceful," Sirius said, chuckling as James dragged himself upright and returned to his bed, clutching the Snitch.
"Oh, sod off, I can barely see anything," James snapped. "Can't we turn on the lights?"
"No, I like it like this." He took another sip from the flask, then tossed it across to James. His slow, clumsy movements told him he was drunk, although the alcohol hadn't dulled his unwanted emotions as much as he had hoped. Once again he thought of Mary, longing for the soothing comfort of her presence. "Is Macdonald with Evans?" he asked before he could stop himself.
James sighed. "Yeah. Moony said she went up there to try to convince her to come back down to the common room, but I don't think she had much luck."
"You going to try going up there?" Sirius asked.
He recalled the afternoon they had spent over the Christmas holiday trying to run up the slide that appeared when male students tried to climb the girls' staircase. Only Remus had succeeded in getting all the way to the top before they gave up and used brooms instead. The memory made him smile in spite of his foul mood.
James ran a hand through his hair and grinned, but even in the dark Sirius could see the longing in his friend's face. "Nah. I'll give her time. She'll be okay – she's got Mary."
"Yeah, I suppose." Sirius pictured the two of them stretched out on Lily's bed, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth as Lily ranted about what an insensitive arsehole he was. Poor Mary would be forced to listen and make sympathetic comments when all she wanted to do was smoke a cigarette and go to bed. "Macdonald is a good friend," he said, more to himself than to James.
"Yeah, she is." James's lips twitched up into a teasing smile as he continued, "She's a good girlfriend, too, to put up with you."
Sirius snatched up his pack of cigarettes and tossed it at James's head. "Sod off, Prongs, I'm a bloody delight." He waited a beat, then added grudgingly, "She's not rubbish, as far as girlfriends go."
James's teasing smile widened. "I'm really happy you're together. She's good for you."
"Listen, none of that sentimental Prongs bollocks. I want to sit in the dark and get drunk and chain smoke and be a moody arsehole. If you want to talk about feelings, go do it somewhere else," he said, although a reluctant smile was spreading across his face.
"All right, all right, keep your pants on." James opened his hand and made an unsuccessful attempt to catch the Snitch left-handed. He let it go, watching it dart across the room to escape through the open door. "I suppose I should go try to catch that, and I'll see if Evans has decided to grace us with her presence. Will you be alright?"
"No, Prongs, please stay and listen to me talk about all my hopes and dreams, and then you can give me a bloody hug."
James laughed and shook his head in exasperation. "You're such an arsehole."
"Well, why the fuck wouldn't I be alright?" As James stood to go, Sirius pointed at the pack of cigarettes and added, "Can you toss me those? And maybe open the window a crack so Moony doesn't murder me?"
After James left he lit another cigarette and rolled onto his back, replaying the conversation in his head. He was still sitting in the dark getting drunk and chain smoking, but despite his efforts to the contrary, he no longer felt quite so much like a moody arsehole. Fucking Prongs. Can't ever leave me to sulk in peace.
He woke from a light doze when Mary slid into bed next to him and draped her legs over his.
"Your feet are bloody freezing," he whispered, rolling over and wrapping his arms around her.
"Oh, shut up." She pressed herself against him, resting her head on his chest. Little tendrils of her hair tickled his face, filling his nostrils with the scent of Sleekeazy's and cigarette smoke. "I just had to listen to Lily cry and go on about the bloody Minister for Magic for two hours," she said. "And it's mostly your fault. The least you can do is warm up my feet for me."
"How is it mostly my fault? She started it." He ran a hand along the curve of her hip, relishing the soft sigh she emitted at his touch.
"I don't even care who started it at this point. I just don't want to hear about Harold bloody Minchum for at least the next month." Her breath was warm against his skin as her finger traced the raised line of the scar on his chest. "Are you alright?"
"Yes I'm bloody alright, but I'm not going to be if people keep asking me." He fell silent as he slipped his hands under the worn fabric of her t-shirt and let his hands drift from her waist to her lower back. After a moment he asked, "How long do you think Evans is going to stay angry at me?"
"Talk it out tomorrow. I'm sure she'll be fine, as long as you apologize for shouting and pointing your wand at her." She lifted her head to kiss him, and he tasted a hint of her toothpaste. "I wouldn't do that again, by the way. She'll hex you without thinking twice about it, and it won't be pretty. Well, you know – you've seen what she can do."
"Yeah, I know. I suppose I can apologize, but only if she promises to tone down the bloody political debates. Where does she get off saying it's no good getting drunk to forget about everything that's wrong with the world? It's a perfectly good coping mechanism, thanks very much."
She kissed him again and twined her fingers in his hair. "She's just different from us," she murmured.
Sirius chuckled. "Different? I think you mean mental."
"But you love her anyway, I know you do. And she loves you too, even though earlier I had to talk her out of stealing your leather jacket and setting fire to it. Tomorrow you're going to talk through your problems and everything will be fine. Now stop talking."
Her body inclined toward him in response to his touch, and he left behind all thoughts of Lily and prisoners' rights and Harold bloody Minchum.