Monday, January 23, 1978

The clatter of silverware and the laughter and chatter of hundreds of students washed over Remus as he lay with his head on the table. He squeezed his eyes shut against the bright light that worsened the pounding in his head and tried to ignore the various food smells that mingled together and made him queasy.

"Moony, your elbow is in the butter dish," Peter said.

Remus tried to force out a coherent response, but his mumbled words were incomprehensible even to his own ears. He knew he really should remove his elbow from the butter dish. He was wearing his favorite jumper, and laying with his elbow in the butter dish didn't exactly give the impression that he had his life together, but even the slightest movement sent a wave of pain radiating through his head, so instead he lay there cursing his existence in silence. He became aware of Seven's hand rubbing gentle circles on his back, and a moment later she lifted his elbow with her other hand and began dabbing at his jumper with what he suspected was a damp napkin.

"You should go get some sleep," Lily said. Although Remus couldn't see her, he pictured her making that concerned expression that usually accompanied her meddlesome tendencies. "There's no point making yourself miserable just so you don't miss class. Don't be a hero, Remus."

"Moony is always a hero," James said.

Why is his voice always so bloody loud? We can fucking hear you, Prongs.

"And it's Patronus day," Sirius said, speaking through a mouthful of food (as per fucking usual). "That's like Christmas to Moony. He'd rather die than miss class on Patronus day."

"Ooh, I'm jealous," Seven said, still rubbing his back. He would feel self conscious about the public display of affection under normal circumstances, but he was too ill to feel anything other than grateful for her soothing touch. "I've been looking forward to learning the Patronus Charm for years."

"I can teach you, if you like," he said. His voice was barely a croak, but the soft pressure of her hand on his shoulder told him she had understood. He imagined the unabashed excitement that made her dark eyes light up and lifted her mouth into a smile. The thought was almost enough to make him want to pick his head up. Almost.

"You two are so bloody wholesome," Mary said. "Black and I spend our evenings shagging and getting stoned, and you two practice the Patronus Charm for fun."

"Wholesome my arse," Sirius said. "You know they're going to have wild, crazy sex after Seven manages to produce a Patronus."

Remus wanted to tell Sirius off, but he didn't even have the energy for a two finger salute. He settled for a disapproving silence.

"Will you help me practice, Moony?" Peter asked. "There's no chance I'm going to get it today. I'm afraid I won't be able to do it at all, to be honest."

"Not with that attitude," James said.

"I bet you can do it, Wormtail," Sirius added. "You have to think of your happiest memory, right? So just imagine that night you shagged Bertha Jorkins, or that one time you ate four sandwiches, or…"

Sirius started laughing, and Remus missed the rest of his sentence.

"I'll help you," he mumbled. He wasn't convinced Peter had heard him, but he couldn't be bothered to repeat himself. Defense Against the Dark Arts was going to take all of his brain power, so he couldn't waste what little energy he had.

"We'd better get going," Lily said. There was a scrape of wood against the stone floor as she pushed back from the table and stood up. "Are you sure you're coming to class, Remus? I'll walk you back to the dormitory if you like."

Remus took a deep breath and sat up. The room swam and he braced himself against the table, but then his vision cleared and he attempted a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. I'm great. I'm going to class." He stood up, taking deep breaths until the room stopped spinning. "This is great. It's going to be great."

He set off across the Great Hall, and after a moment the others followed. Seven slipped her hand into his as they left the Great Hall and climbed a staircase. The exertion was already sapping the last of his strength, but he ignored the weariness dragging at his limbs.

"You sure you have to go to class?" Seven asked. "I'll skip my class, too, and we can go take a nap."

The thought of collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep as Seven rubbed his back tempted him, but he shoved the thought aside.

"You just don't want to go to Arithmancy," he said, attempting a weak smile that was more of a grimace.

"You're not wrong."

They drew to a stop outside the Defense classroom, and Remus breathed a sigh of relief that he had made it to the end of his short journey without collapsing or vomiting all over his shoes. Seven pulled him aside and wrapped her arms around him, sensing he needed a bit of extra affection despite his usual shyness about that sort of thing.

"Good luck," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I can't wait to hear what form your Patronus takes."

She waved before hurrying away down the corridor, her braid flying out behind her as she jogged to make it to class on time.

"I wonder what your Patronus will be," Sirius mused as they settled into their seats. "I hope it's something ridiculous. What's that fucking made up animal?"

Remus put his elbows on the desk and rested his head in his hands. He let his eyes close halfway – enough to block some of the light but not enough to fall asleep.

"You mean a narwhal," he muttered.

"Right, that's it!" Sirius grinned and tipped back in his chair. "I hope it's a narwhal."

"Or a platypus," Peter suggested. "Or a giraffe, maybe? Because he's tall."

"Or maybe some type of bird?" Mary turned around in her seat to look at Remus. "Like a heron. Or, wait, a flamingo!"

James ran a hand through his hair and studied Lily. "What sort of Patronus do we think Evans will have?"

"I hope it's something that eats deer," Sirius said, smirking and lowering his voice. "And Macdonald's is definitely going to be a cocker spaniel." He reached over and toyed with a curl until she knocked his hand away.

Remus lost track of the conversation as he took out parchment, quill, and ink and prepared to take notes for the first half of class. As the professor called for their attention and the class fell silent, he leaned over and whispered to Peter, "Can you poke me if I stop taking notes?"

Peter grinned and gave him a thumbs up, then dipped his quill into his ink and wrote The Patronus Charm at the top of his parchment and underlined it several times. Remus turned his attention to his own parchment and began copying the notes, careful not to drag his sleeve through the ink as he often did when he was operating on less than optimal brain power. He managed two bullet points before his eyelids drooped, and then he jerked awake when Peter gave his shoulder a gentle poke

"...one of the most ancient types of magic," Professor Macintyre was saying.

Remus clung to his words, scrambling to take down the notes he had missed. His head throbbed, and the faint scent of cigarettes emanating from Sirius's clothes didn't help. He took several deep breaths and wrote Comporeal Patronus on his parchment before frowning at the word. It didn't look right, but he had almost poured pumpkin juice into his tea instead of sugar this morning, so he wasn't about to trust his own judgment. He glanced over at Peter's notes, but his elbow was in the way. He squinted up at the board to check the spelling, but Professor Macintyre's handwriting was impossible to decipher. Heaving a sigh of irritation, he leaned over to check Sirius's notes, but saw that he had written only the heading and the incantation before losing interest and switching to practicing the wand movement under the desk. Bloody hell, Remus thought, resting his head on his hand as he read the word again. His eyes began to grow heavy…

"Lupin?"

Remus jerked his head up to see the professor staring at him with that familiar expectant look that always caused him a sharp jolt of panic. There was an uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the rustle of parchment and a creak as someone shifted position. He's asked me something and I have no idea what. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Sorry?"

Professor Macintyre's eyes narrowed. "I asked whether an incorporeal Patronus can be used to send messages."

I knew comporeal wasn't right, he thought, before realizing he had no idea how to answer the question. The answer's no – it has to be. An incorporeal Patronus is just silvery wispy stuff. How can it send a message if it doesn't have a mouth? But then why does he look so smug? Maybe it's a trick question? He chanced a hopeful glance at Peter's notes again, but his bloody elbow was still in the way.

"No?"

The professor raised his eyebrows. "You don't sound sure."

"I'm not sure," Remus admitted.

"Perhaps you would be sure if you hadn't been sleeping through my class," Professor Macintyre said. He gave a disapproving little shake of his head before clearing his throat and continuing with his lecture. "As it happens, Mr. Lupin guessed correctly. An incorporeal Patronus cannot be used to send a message, although…"

Remus slid down in his seat and spent the next twenty minutes frantically copying down notes and pinching himself to stay awake.

When Professor Macintyre instructed them to attempt the spell, Mary and Lily turned around and scooted their chairs over until they sat across from James and Sirius. While the room was full of scraping chairs and students talking, Remus leaned over to Peter.

"You didn't poke me," Remus said, shooting him a reproachful look.

"I did, actually," Peter said with an apologetic note in his voice. "You told me to sod off and kept sleeping."

"Of course I did," Remus said, rubbing his temples.

"I dunno what he has to be upset about," Sirius said. "You got the bloody answer right. He's just an arsehole who couldn't make it as an Auror so he's stuck teaching us instead. Now don't talk for a minute. I need to concentrate."

Remus listened to the rhythmic tapping of Sirius's fingers against the desk as he tried in vain to concentrate on a happy memory. He had been thinking about this ever since the previous week when Professor Macintyre had announced his intention to teach them the Patronus Charm. After much consideration, he had settled on the day Dumbledore had visited his home to tell him he could come to Hogwarts. He had been happy that day – blissfully, radiantly happy – and yet he couldn't conjure up the feeling of pure joy necessary to produce a Patronus. Digging his nail into his cuticle in frustration, he closed his eyes and pictured Dumbledore sitting in his living room. The image filled his mind as he searched for that leap of excitement his ten-year-old self had experienced at the prospect of a future he hadn't dared to hope for.

"Expecto Patronum," he said, flourishing his wand and holding tight to the memory of young Remus's happiness.

He opened his eyes, but there was nothing: no Patronus, not even the barest hint of silvery mist.

"Fuck."

He refocused his mind and tried several more times, but he only succeeded in making his headache worse. A wave of exhaustion hit him, and he rested his forehead on the desk, wondering if he should have taken Seven up on her offer after all. Come on. You can do this. Don't be a lazy arsehole.

"Hey." Sirius nudged his shoulder, his voice low and excited. "I know you're having a Moony moment right now, but you've got to see this. Can you fucking believe it?"

Remus followed his gaze just in time to see a silver doe leaping through the air to join her male counterpart. Together they gamboled around the classroom, eliciting whistles and gasps from the students and an impressed nod from Professor Macintyre.

"That is the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," Mary exclaimed, her expression wistful as she watched the stag and doe return to Lily and James before dissolving into the air.

"It really is," Peter agreed, his wand forgotten on the table.

"Actual bloody soulmates," Sirius said, shaking his head in wonder. "I dunno why we're surprised."

Neither Lily nor James answered. They sat gazing at each other in adoration as though they were the only two people in the room.

A few minutes later, Sirius's dog Patronus was racing James's stag around the room. Remus tried to act excited, but he couldn't muster much enthusiasm. Nor could he manage more than a weak laugh when Mary's muttered profanity gave way to a strange creature with thick fur, a pointed snout, and a long, skinny tail.

"What the fuck is it?" Sirius asked, doubled over with laughter.

"I dunno, but I love it." Mary watched the little patronus waddle through the air on its short legs before coming to a stop in front of Sirius. It opened his mouth, revealing surprisingly sharp teeth, and screamed in Sirius's face. "It's very me, isn't it? Should I ask Macintyre what it is?"

Sirius snorted with laughter. "Nah, don't bother – we'll go to the library and figure it out. Moony, did you hear that? We're going to take a trip to your favorite place."

Remus could only nod as he tried yet again to produce that elusive silvery shape.

By the end of class, Peter had only managed wisps of vapor, but his last attempt had started to take shape before he lost concentration and it dissipated into silvery mist.

"I really think I've almost got it!" he gushed, repeating the phrase until it grated on Remus's nerves.

The rest of the class returned chairs to their proper places and packed away their things, but Remus sat glued to his seat, clutching his wand until his knuckles turned white.

"I've got to do it," he growled when Peter shot him a questioning look. "I've got to."

"Well done," Professor Macintyre said. He towered over their table, his bulky frame blocking the pathway so Mary had to drag her chair all the way around Remus and Peter to return it to her table. "Nice work today." He gave a curt nod of approval as his eyes traveled around the rest of the group before coming to rest on Remus. "Not up to your usual standard today, Lupin, eh? Try to concentrate a bit more next time. You've got to understand the theory before you can do the spell. Practice it for homework. Don't come back to class without being able to at least produce some vapor."

Remus couldn't speak. He nodded, unable to look Professor Macintyre in the eye, then shoved his things into his bag and stumbled for the door the second the bell rang.

"Don't pay him any mind, Moony," James said, clapping him on the back. Even the light touch made Remus flinch.

"I think I saw a bit of vapor that very last time you tried," Peter said, darting an anxious glance at Remus.

"I couldn't even manage a Hover Charm in that state," Lily added, concern creasing her face as she touched his arm.

"Hang on, where's Black?" Mary stopped and turned back to the classroom. Through the door they could see Sirius's back as he hunched over the desk, his hand flying over the parchment in front of him. "What's he up to?"

"I'll go get him," Remus said, dragging his weary body back into the classroom to lean against the edge of Sirius's desk. "Pads, what are you doing?"

Sirius held up a finger and continued scribbling. After a minute, he shoved his quill and ink into his bag and stood, snatching up the parchment.

"I'll be right, there, Moony. Meet you in the corridor."

Remus retreated to the doorway and watched Sirius march to the front of the classroom and thrust the parchment at Professor Macintyre.

"Black?" Macintyre said, frowning in confusion. "What's this?"

Sirius's head jerked from side to side, surveying the classroom before turning his attention back to Macintyre.

"It's a fucking lunar chart," he spat. "I figured you could use it, seeing as you can't be bloody bothered to keep track of what day it is." He pointed at a mark on the parchment and added, "Full moon's tomorrow, in case you can't read my handwriting."

Macintyre's eyes widened, and he cast a guilty look in Remus's direction. "I didn't realize–"

"That's fucking obvious." Sirius glared at him, disdain radiating off of him in waves, before turning and striding out of the classroom.

"Wait! Come back here, Black," Macintyre called, but Sirius didn't stop until he had sidled past Remus out into the corridor.

"Come on," he muttered, but Remus didn't move.

He stood frozen, trying to drag words from his exhausted, overwrought brain. He was torn between gratitude and exasperation, because he was touched that Sirius would stand up for him that way, but for fuck's sake, did he have to tell off a professor like that? The blaze of righteous anger in Sirius's eyes persuaded him in the end, and he heaved a sigh before giving a grudging nod that sent a stab of pain through his head.

"Thanks," he murmured, gritting his teeth and longing for his four-poster bed.

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius said, making a dismissive hand gesture. "Now let's go. You're ruining my dramatic exit."

"Mr. Black."

Sirius felt the force of her disapproving glare before he even turned around. The conversation broke off as everyone sat watching him, and the silence stretched out until McGonagall cleared her throat and tapped an impatient rhythm on the floor with the heel of her shoe. Sirius swallowed his last bite of dinner and washed it down with pumpkin juice before turning around in his seat to flash her an easy grin.

"Hi, Professor. Are you here to talk about the fact that our Head Boy and Girl have matching Patronuses?" He frowned and tapped his fingers against his chin. "Or is it Patroni?" When he was met with blank looks he sighed and shook his head. "Moony would know."

"You know perfectly well why I'm here, Black," McGonagall said, the frown lines around her lips tightening. "I've just received a very angry report from Professor Macintyre."

"Oh, that." Sirius slouched down in his seat and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Yeah, I might've gotten a bit heated, but that's cause he was being a fucking arsehole."

McGonagall's nostrils flared. "Mr. Black! You cannot speak that way about a teacher."

He shrugged and stole a biscuit from Peter's plate. "I'm just being honest, Professor."

She sighed, and Sirius noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the weary slump in her usually perfect posture.

"I'll see you in my office, Black."

She turned and strode back to the staff table without another word, her robe swishing behind her.

"Well, I knew it was only a matter of time before Macintyre complained," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Why's she going back to the staff table, though? She said to go to her office."

"Wow," Peter said, peering across the room at the staff table. "I don't believe it. She's gone back for a biscuit. I guess she wants something to snack on while she tells you off."

James grinned. "I know I've said this before, but I fucking love Minnie."

Sirius lit a cigarette as he strolled through the corridor to McGonagall's office. She's already about to tear me a new one, he thought, exhaling a long stream of smoke. Might as well enjoy a cigarette first.

When he reached her office, the door was already open, so he put out his cigarette and stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. McGonagall was seated behind her desk, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes biting into him. He darted a glance at the chair in front of her desk, but she did not invite him to sit, so instead he leaned against the wall and waited.

"Mr. Black, did you throw a piece of parchment at Professor Macintyre?"

He paused to consider. "I'm pretty sure I handed it to him, but I could be wrong. I sort of blacked out for a minute." He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "Get it, blacked out? See what I did there, Professor?"

She rolled her eyes and exhaled deeply. "Did you shout profanity at him and then storm out of class?"

"No, I shouted profanity at him and then attempted to storm out, but Remus was just standing there making that face he makes when he appreciates what I've done but disapproves of how I've done it. You know the one, Professor. It looks a bit like this."

He drew his eyebrows together and formed his mouth into an exaggerated frown.

"I can't do it properly, but anyway, it made storming off a lot more difficult than it needed to be, so I did the best I could."

Her eyes never left his as he fell silent and stood there, fidgeting under the weight of her glare.

"Why?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Because he was being a real git to Remus and I didn't feel like putting up with it any longer."

McGonagall's lips tightened into an even thinner line, but her silence encouraged Sirius to go on.

"I'd like to see Macintyre stay awake and take notes when he feels like he's about to bloody die—"

"Black," she said, a warning note in her voice, but Sirius ignored her.

"Never mind try to produce a Patronus for the first time," he continued. "None of the other professors ever give him any trouble. Last time he fell asleep in Charms, Flitwick conjured him a blanket and just carried on with the lesson!"

"Black." McGonagall's voice rose, but Sirius was powerless to stop the flood of words spewing from his mouth. His anger was in control now, and he was just along for the ride.

"Obviously he was in no state to be in class, but you know what he's like if you tell him to go to bed or to the hospital wing — he's bloody stubborn. But that doesn't give Macintyre an excuse to be a tosser. He's bitter that he was a shit auror, but joke's on him because he's an even worse teacher."

"Mr. Black!"

McGonagall's voice cut through the hot rush of anger, and Sirius stood with his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides as his heart returned to a normal rhythm.

"Are you angry at me?"

Sirius frowned, startled by her unexpected question. "No, I'm angry at bloody Macintyre."

The crease between her eyebrows deepened. "Then why are you shouting at me?"

Sirius blinked at her for a moment. "Oh."

Neither of them spoke for a moment as Sirius scowled down at his shoes.

"I'm just saying, he's the worst Defense professor we've had," Sirius said, fighting to keep his volume under control. "Even worse than that bloke we had second year, and he didn't even know the difference between a Crup and a Jack Russell Terrier."

McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temples. "Black, you do not have the right to shout at any teacher in this school, regardless of whether or not you agree with his teaching methods."

He crossed his arms and met her gaze. "So you agree with me that he's rubbish as a teacher."

The corners of her lips twitched. "I am neither agreeing nor disagreeing with you."

Sirius studied her face, then grinned. "You agree with me."

McGonagall looked down at her desk, biting her lip and frowning. When she looked up, her expression had softened.

"Black, you need to learn to play nice."

He tilted his head and looked at her, turning his phrase over in his head. Play nice. That sounded suspiciously like putting up with bullshit, and the idea appealed to him about as much as listening to one of Lily's rants about the Prophet.

"Why?" he asked, not bothering to conceal the defiance in his tone.

She took a deep breath, gathering up what little patience remained.

"Because you have a lot of talent. I didn't miss the part of the story where it only took you five minutes to produce a full corporeal Patronus. But whatever you decide to do after Hogwarts, you're going to need to control your emotions, and that means not shouting at everyone you disagree with."

"But then how are they going to know they're wrong?"

McGonagall threw her hands up in irritation. "For heaven's sake, Black, can you imagine if I went around shouting at everyone I disagreed with?"

Sirius grinned as he imagined Mcgonagall calling Macintyre a tosser and berating him for his insensitive treatment of students.

"That would be brilliant, actually," he said, shrugging.

She sighed. "Of course you'd think that. In any case, you are to apologize to Professor Macintyre and serve detention with him tomorrow night."

Sirius's heart sank. "Tomorrow? Can't I do it tonight? Or Wednesday?"

"Certainly not. You do not have the luxury of scheduling detention around your own personal preferences, Mr. Black. You will serve tomorrow at 7:00."

He sighed and nodded. It wasn't ideal, but he would just have to meet up with them after his detention was over. James should be able to handle Remus on his own for a little while, although the prospect filled Sirius with a vague foreboding that he tried to ignore. He turned his attention back to McGonagall, noticing a curious expression on her face.

"Do you have the lunar calendar memorized?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "Well, just the full moons, and only for a few months at a time, but after June it won't be relevant to Macintyre anyway." When she didn't reply he went on, "I'm just saying, I'm one of the most selfish people in the world. If I can be arsed to remember when the full moon is, why can't Macintyre when it's part of his job?"

The tight, thin line of her mouth relaxed, and there was an uncharacteristic hint of emotion in her eyes. She sighed and adjusted her glasses.

"You're a good friend, Mr. Black. Oh, I almost forgot."

She held out her hand and fixed him with an expectant look. Puzzled, he grasped her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"No, Black," she said, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Your cigarettes, please."

His hand tightened on the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. "But—"

"No buts," she said, her hand still outstretched.

Sirius stared at her for another moment before snorting with laughter. "Butts – I see what you did there. Excellent pun, Professor."

Her lips twitched again. "The pun was unintended."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, still grinning. "Sure it was."

Her hand remained outstretched, and after a moment he sighed and handed over the cigarettes. She examined them and gave a nod of satisfaction before tossing them into a desk drawer Sirius knew was reserved for confiscated items. Before she closed it again, he spotted a Fanged Frisbee, a bag of Dungbombs, and what looked like a sign that said KICK ME he had charmed to follow Peter around last year.

"Smoking in the corridors is not allowed, Mr. Black," she reminded him, shutting the desk drawer with a crisp snap. "This is a school, not a pub. Although you seem to be confused about that distinction, considering how often you're drunk."

Sirius let out an involuntary snort of laughter. "Minnie McGonagall, are you taking the piss?"

"Just stating a fact, Mr. Black," she said, straightfaced, before her smile from a moment ago returned. "And that'll be ten points from Gryffindor for calling me Minnie." She nodded at the door. "You're free to go. I expect you'll want to go tell your friends about this amusing conversation. Make sure you report to Macintyre tomorrow at seven. "

He began to walk toward the door, but when she spoke again he paused in the doorway.

"Black?"

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

"Try not to shout at anyone, won't you? Or at least keep the shouting to a minimum."

He gave her a thumbs up. "Will do, Minnie."

And he set off down the corridor, smiling to himself despite the loss of a perfectly good pack of cigarettes and the prospect of missing part of tomorrow evening's adventures.

"Maybe we should give up," Mary sighed, adding another book to the pile in front of them. "If Madam Pince doesn't know, how the hell are we supposed to figure it out?"

Sirius turned a page and frowned. "Well, to be fair, you described it as a 'weird, furry thing, like a big rat that screams.' I'm not exactly shocked she couldn't figure it out from that description."

"Is that not accurate?" She pulled another book toward her and opened it, scanning the table of contents. "I suppose I could actually cast a Patronus to show her, but that's a lot of pressure. I already made myself look like an idiot trying to describe it."

"You should be fine as long as your happy memory is strong enough." Sirius looked up from his book and raised his eyebrows. "What was your happy memory, by the way?"

She grinned and wrapped a curl around her finger. "That's a rather personal question, Black."

"Oh, come on," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "I've been sitting in the library for over an hour, trying to help you figure out what your weird Patronus is. I'm giving up my free time out of the goodness of my heart, Macdonald. The least you can do is share your happy memory."

Curiosity nagged at him, and suddenly the need to know her memory filled his mind, overshadowing every other thought. He drummed his fingers against the table and tried to force back the question plaguing him.

Mary pushed her hair out of her face and sighed. "Fine, but you're not allowed to call me a sentimental sod–"

"I reserve to call anyone a sentimental sod if they're exhibiting sentimental sod behavior," Sirius said, tipping back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Well, I reserve the right to keep my Patronus memory a mystery, then." Mary crossed her arms and stared back at him. There was a defiant glint in her eyes that was more adorable than it had any right to be. Fucking Macdonald.

Sirius shrugged. "Alright, fine," he said, feigning indifference. "I won't call you a sentimental sod – just this once, obviously. Now, let's hear the damn memory, Macdonald, before Pince chucks us out of the library for talking."

She wrapped a curl around her finger and studied the cover of one of the books as a smile turned up the corners of her lips. It wasn't her usual open, nonchalant grin; this smile was reluctant, almost shy.

"I thought about that day last summer when you gave me my leather jacket and took me flying on the motorbike for the first time," she murmured, looking up at him. "You did those flips and I thought I was going to die, but in a good way. And then it started raining and you stopped the motorbike under some trees and–"

"–snogged you," Sirius finished, his mind filling with the scent of rain, the taste of her mouth, the image of her soaked clothing clinging to her skin. "Yeah."

She slid her hand under the table and touched his knee. "Do you want to call me a sentimental sod?"

Sirius struggled to repress the huge grin that threatened to take over his face when he realized that the happiest memory she could come up with was a day they had spent together.

"Nah," he said, landing his chair and returning to the book in front of him. "That was a good day. It's a perfectly respectable memory to choose."

He could sense the force of her gaze on him as he flipped through the book, but he kept his eyes fixed on the page.

"What, you're not going to tell me yours?" she demanded, reaching over and making a grab for his book.

"I'll tell you when we figure out what your Patronus is," he said, snatching the book back and sneaking a look at the exasperated expression on her face. The little pout that drew her full lips together did not disappoint. "That'll give you motivation to keep looking."

He continued paging through the book as his thoughts drifted back to that first flight together on the motorbike.

"I found it!" Mary said after another half hour. "Look at this!" She pointed a finger at an illustration in Animals of the Western Hemisphere. "It's an opossum!"

"Whatever that is," Sirius said, frowning at the photograph of the odd creature.

"They're native to the Americas," Mary said as she skimmed the page, picking out interesting bits of information. "They're marsupials – like kangaroos, I guess – they're nocturnal… they scream and hiss… ooh, when threatened, they play dead!" She looked up at him, grinning. "You think that'll work if I try it? Next time Lily's trying to get me to talk about the news or my feelings or whatever, if I just –" Her eyes fluttered shut and she let her head fall onto her arms that rested on the table.

"I think you need to work on your execution," Sirius said, poking her side and eliciting a giggle and a squeal of protest. "Hey, do your Patronus and see if you can get it to play dead." When Mary raised her eyebrows and glanced in Madam Pince's direction, he made a dismissive hand motion. "Oh, who cares if she kicks us out? We already found what we need. Come on, Macdonald, think about my exceptional motorbike-flying abilities and let me see that weird possum thing."

She sighed and pulled her wand from her pocket. As she frowned in concentration, a stray curl falling across her face, Sirius could almost see the memory flashing through her mind.

"Expecto Patronum!" The silvery possum burst from her wand and meandered through the air, but it didn't play dead, even when Sirius made funny faces at it.

"Madame Pince is looking this way," Mary muttered.

"Hang on, I want to try something." Sirius thought about that ride on the motorbike: the wind tugging at his hair while Mary clung to his waist, and the rain that drenched them both as he pushed her sopping hair out of her face to kiss her. "Expecto Patronum."

His shaggy dog gamboled above them, attracting the attention of the Slytherins two tables away. It bounded toward the possum, tail wagging. When the possum caught sight of it, there was a moment's hesitation, and then it flopped over, eyes closed and tail drooping.

"That's brilliant!" Sirius said, grinning and draping his arm around Mary's shoulders. "Your Patronus is the best of any of us, just so you know." He waved at the table of Slytherins and gestured at Mary's Patronus. "It's an opossum. Good, right?"

"I've just thought of something," Mary said, giggling and leaning her head against his shoulder. "Your Patronus looks just like the Grim, right? The Grim's an omen of death. And my Patronus…" She dissolved into peals of laughter. "My Patronus plays dead!"

Sirius burst into laughter. The Slytherins were now whispering to each other and exchanging disdainful looks; Sirius held up the two finger salute.

"I didn't even think of that," he said, watching the two Patronuses until they both dissipated into silver mist. "This day just keeps getting better."

"You know, Lily and James have actual matching Patronuses," Mary mused after Madam Pince had glared at them and ordered them to leave the library. She glanced over at Sirius and raised her eyebrows as they strolled side-by-side along the corridor. "But we do too, in a weird, ridiculous way."

"It's very us," Sirius admitted, grinning. "We're sort of weird and ridiculous, aren't we?"

"We really are." She fell silent for a moment, then glanced sideways at him again and nudged his shoulder. "You know, I didn't forget you promised to tell me which happy memory you used to cast your Patronus."

"Of course you didn't." He lit a cigarette and offered one to Mary, then took a long drag and watched the smoke drift away into the air before he answered. "In class I thought of the day after I left Grimmauld Place." A smile lit his face as he remembered the Potters' casual acceptance that morning; Euphemia had done the crossword and Fleamont had munched toast while they told Sirius he was welcome to call their house home. "Because it was, I dunno…" He gave a jerky shrug, but Mary smiled, and he knew she understood. "But just now in the library, I thought about that first time we flew on the motorbike."

"Now who's the sentimental sod?" she said, pulling him to a stop and leaning in to kiss him. Her lips felt the way they did that day on the motorbike – hungry and insistent and impossibly warm.

"Oh, shut up," he said, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "We already established that it's a respectable memory."

She smiled as the smoke from her forgotten cigarette curled into the air around them. "It is."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Sirius had a feeling she was reliving that day just as he was. Then he sighed and released her, nodding at the corridor ahead of them.

"Come on. We've got to show the others how your Patronus can play dead. They're going to laugh their arses off."