Monday, May 1, 1978

"Good morning, Professor," James said, grinning and pulling a piece of parchment from behind his back. "Happy Monday."

McGonagall took the parchment and frowned at it over the top of her glasses. "Potter, what is this?"

"Marauders bingo." He pulled a handful of little marker chips from his pocket and held them out until she took them. They were shaped like motorbikes, Snitches, cardigans, and sandwiches.

"If we do any of the stuff in the squares, put one of these little markers on that square. If you fill up all the squares in a row—"

"Yes, Potter, I understand the concept of bingo," McGonagall said, heaving an impatient sigh. "Why am I doing Marauders bingo?"

"Oh." James grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "No good reason, except we're about to leave here, and we thought you might enjoy a bit of fun and frivolity to break up the very complex, mentally-exhausting lesson you're about to give."

Her lips formed a thin line. "Potter, I don't have time for this. We have a lot of material to get through before the N.E.W.T.s, and I'm not going to waste time putting a plastic motorbike on a square every time—" she peered at the parchment "—every time you call someone a ridiculous nickname."

"Just to clarify, Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail don't count as ridiculous nicknames. A ridiculous nickname is calling Bertram Aubrey Bertie Botts or Snape Sevelevadingdong." He grinned. "Although you said you don't have time for this, so I suppose that clarification wasn't necessary. But, you know, if you change your mind…"

He returned to his seat, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to watch her scanning the parchment. Her lips twitched as they did when she was trying not to smile, and he felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him even as she set the parchment on her desk and began writing notes on the board.

"She said she's not doing it," he hissed to Sirius as they bent over their respective parchment to copy down the notes.

"Don't be too sure," Sirius whispered back. "Minnie surprises us sometimes."

Monday, May 8, 1978

"Professor? Can I add to what Dirty Donnie said about the transmutation theory? I'm not sure I agree with what he said about—"

McGonagall held up a hand. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, who are you disagreeing with?"

"Dirty Donnie," James repeated, grinning and nodding across the room at Donald Fawcett. "It's a new nickname, but I quite like it, and he doesn't mind it."

"I don't mind," Fawcett put in, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. "Although, I'd like to point out that I'm not called Dirty Donnie because I don't shower."

"No, he's the model of cleanliness," James agreed. "He's called Dirty Donnie because—"

"That's quite enough, Potter." McGonagall shook her head, then adjusted her glasses. "By all means, add to his answer, but please, no more ridiculous nicknames…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes widened, and then she hurried behind her desk and shifted something around with a soft clicking sound.

James shot Sirius a puzzled look, but Sirius only shrugged.

"There was nothing wrong with Fawcett's answer, you prat," he whispered.

James grinned. "I know. I just wanted to use his new nickname. It's good, isn't it?"

Later on in Charms, Flitwick had let them work in groups to practice various charms that were likely to appear on the .T. exam. Peter was performing the Bubble-Head Charm when Sirius tipped back in his chair and would have toppled onto the floor save for James's quick reaction speed.

"It's not that funny," Sirius said, righting himself as Remus and Mary dissolved into laughter.

"It's a little funny," James said, pointing his wand at his head to dispel the bubble that surrounded it. "You make a very amusing face right before you're about to tip over." He imitated it, flailing his arms around and causing Mary and Remus to burst into laughter again.

"Bingo!" Professor Flitwick shouted.

James's head snapped around to the front of the classroom where Flitwick stood peering down triumphantly at something on his desk.

"Professor," Lily began, a smile spreading across her face. "Are you playing Marauders bingo?

Flitwick looked up from his desk, too pleased to be embarrassed.

"Yes, we've been playing all week. The winner gets out of supervising the courtyard during break." A smug note crept into his voice. "Professor McGonagall's going to have fun dodging Fanged Frisbees and listening to those second years shout at each other about Chocolate Frog cards."

James strode to the front of the classroom, beaming. "Can I see that, Professor?" He pointed at the completed bingo card, and after a moment's hesitation, Flitwick handed it to him, careful not to dislodge the little plastic markers.

"What's your plan for that?" Sirius asked when James returned to his seat and set the bingo card down on the desk.

James grinned and tapped it with his wand, freezing the markers in place. "You'll see."

During lunch, James gulped down his food and hurried back to the dormitory. When he returned with a wrapped parcel, he hustled everyone back to the Charms classroom and presented the gift to a confused Flitwick.

"It's to hang in your office," James explained when Flitwick opened the framed bingo card. "I charmed the little markers to stay put. There's a secret message for you behind the frame, too, but don't read it until after we graduate."

Flitwick's fingers drifted to the back of the frame, but James held up a hand.

"Don't do it, Professor, or I'll tell McGonagall you cheated and she won't do your courtyard duty."

As they strolled along the corridor to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Lily turned to James with a curious expression on her face.

"What's the secret message?" she asked.

James grinned. "It says, 'Thanks for putting up with all of our nonsense. Love your favorite students, Hugh G. Rection, Ben Dover, Enorma Stits, Wilma Dickfit, Hugh Janus, and Mike Oxlong."

Lily laughed and took his hand. "He's really going to miss us, isn't he?"

James nodded. "I'll bet he cries when he waves goodbye to us. Come on, Wilma. We'd better hurry or Macyntire's going to tell us off. Something tells me he hasn't been playing Marauders bingo."

Thursday, May 11, 1978

"I'm going to do a bit of studying," Remus said after James, Sirius, and Lily had departed for Potions. "Want to join me?"

"Hmm, I really should," Mary said, twirling a curl around her finger.

Peter frowned. "Me too."

"But you're not going to," Remus guessed.

"I'd rather not," Mary said, grimacing. "We'll study later, unless we're all going to do dueling practice, in which case, we'll study after that."

"I feel like we're running out of time to study," Peter said. He fiddled with his sleeve and glanced sideways at Mary.

"We're also running out of time to procrastinate," Mary reasoned. "Remus, you should take this opportunity to blow off studying and come get stoned with us, because how many more chances to do this are we going to have?"

Remus hesitated, picking at a bit of skin beside his thumbnail, and then a reluctant smile spread across his face. "Yeah, alright."

Up in the dormitory they settled on Peter's bed and Mary rolled a joint on top of a copy of Witch Weekly.

"Ooh, maybe later we can figure out your love match based on your wand wood and core, Pete," Remus said, pointing at the magazine.

"Wrong issue," Mary said, watching the smoke floating in lazy clouds around their faces. "But I think I still have that one shoved in Black's trunk somewhere. Incidentally, do you know what sort of wand Bertha Jorkins has?"

Peter studied the joint in his hand with a bemused expression on his face. "What? Oh, I have no idea."

"Too bad." Mary dropped the magazine onto the floor with a flutter of pages and stretched out on the bed on her side. The three of them passed the joint back and forth without speaking. When they finished it and the air was heavy with pungent smoke, Mary reached over and poked Peter's shoulder.

"Okay, I think it's time we talk about it."

Peter's eyes widened in alarm. "Talk about what?" He wasn't sure why her statement caused him such a jolt of panic, but it left his heart pounding.

She laughed and flipped onto her back. "No need to look so guilty. I meant I want to hear about you and Bertha Jorkins."

He didn't answer right away. For the first time in ages, he let himself think about what had really happened, or rather what hadn't happened, that night. He had repeated the lie until it was creased and worn at the edges and he began to believe it himself. It had to feel real, otherwise the others would have seen straight through him. Now he opened the door to the actual memory, and his mind was flooded with shame and guilt and a pressing desire to shed the weight of the secret.

"You sure?" he asked. If she was asking so she could tease him, well, his secret could wait. The lie would work much better for her purposes.

"Yes, I'm sure, you prat, otherwise I wouldn't have asked." She blew a lock of hair out of her face. "So what's the story?"

He hesitated. "Well, you know what happened – you were at that party. We ended up in one of the Potters' spare bedrooms. You and Padfoot saw us snogging, didn't you?"

She made an impatient hand gesture. "Yeah, but I want the dirty details. Who seduced who? Was she any good?" A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Were you any good? And was it a one time thing, or did you have all sorts of little meetups in broom cupboards and empty classrooms? And…" She pushed herself upright and sat cross-legged on the bed, her eyes never leaving his. "What does she look like naked?"

Remus laughed softly. "Some things should be left to the imagination, Mary."

"Rubbish." She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at Peter. "Come on, I tell you all sorts of things about me and Black–"

"You'd tell me whether I wanted to know or not," Peter said, grinning.

"–the least you could do is repay the favor by telling me about your sex life, Peter Penelope Pettigrew."

Peter glanced at Remus and saw that his eyes had already glazed over. He had heard this story so often that he could probably tell it without any help from Peter. It would be easy for Peter to repeat the same words he had told the others over and over, but something told him Mary wouldn't be as easily fooled. Even a hint of inconsistency, the tiniest crack in his story, and she would send the whole thing careering to the floor like a tower of Exploding Snap cards. He wasn't sure if she would call him out, but he didn't want to risk it, because he didn't think he could stand being exposed as a liar. As pathetic as the truth was, it was even more pathetic to continue lying about it. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"To be honest, there's nothing to tell, because, er, technically I don't have a sex life." His eyes remained fixed on the duvet, but he heard Mary's shocked intake of breath.

"But I thought–" she began.

"I fell asleep," he muttered, wondering if the others could feel the heat emanating from his face. "I drank a lot, I suppose because I was nervous about what was going to happen, but also I'm pretty sure Padfoot was cheating at Exploding Snap–"

"Oh, yeah, he was," Mary said. Peter looked up at her and saw a fond grin spreading across her face. "I think he didn't want to be too drunk for, you know, me. He wasn't even being subtle about it – at one point he was throwing two or three cards down at a time. I kept expecting you to call him out for it, but I guess that's not your style, is it?"

Some of Peter's nervousness ebbed away in the face of her casual acceptance. The taunting laughter and disparaging comments he had braced for never came; instead, she sat there grinning as though he hadn't just confessed one of his most shameful secrets. He glanced sideways at Remus and saw his face set in an expression of mild surprise. Peter studied his face, searching for any hint of judgment or contempt, but he found none.

"You could've just told us, you know," Remus said, startling Peter from his thoughts. "We wouldn't have laughed at you."

Peter raised his eyebrows.
"Well, okay, I wouldn't have laughed at you," Remus amended, chuckling. "Prongs probably would have laughed at first, but then he'd say something to make you feel better, maybe a full on Prongs pep talk if he thought you needed it. Padfoot…" He bit his lip, hesitating. "Well, Padfoot would definitely take the piss a bit."

"A bit?" Mary laughed and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "You're so diplomatic, Remus. What you mean is, he'd still be laughing about it."

Peter shuddered as he imagined the mocking smile and taunting laughter. "That's exactly why I didn't tell you. You were all asking me, and I had to say something, so I just sort of, you know, described what I imagined it would have been like." He sighed and lay back on the bed, staring at a tiny spot on the canopy that he suspected was firewhisky. "I know how pathetic that sounds, but it's not nearly as pathetic as falling asleep on someone."

Mary tilted her head and frowned. "Do you mean that in a figurative sense? Or literally, because you were on top?"

"Mary!" he protested, raising his voice to be heard over Remus's burst of surprised laughter. "That's unhelpful." He hesitated, smiling ruefully, then added, "We didn't get far enough for anyone to be on top. I remember laying on the bed while she made sure the door was shut properly, and then I woke up the next day and found Bertha trying to sneak out so she wouldn't have to speak to me."

He winced as he remembered struggling to his feet to run after her, only to end up sprawling on the floor because his trousers were around his ankles. That particular detail could be omitted, he decided – a person could only handle so much embarrassment at one time.

"Well, how can you be sure you didn't shag?" Mary said. "Maybe you did and you just blacked out."

"She told me what happened," he said, heaving a sigh. "She made me promise never to tell anyone, because she reckoned people would tease her for being so bad at sex that she made me fall asleep. Not that I needed convincing to keep quiet about it. Why would I tell people I botched my chance with the only girl desperate enough to shag me?" He shook his head and covered his face with his hands again. "My life is so bloody embarrassing."

"Come on, Pete," Remus said. Peter couldn't bring himself to look at him.

"You know that's rubbish, right?" Mary asked. When he didn't reply, she maneuvered herself around Remus's legs to squeeze in beside Peter. "You didn't botch your only chance to have sex for the rest of your life, you prat."

He made a dubious sound and continued to stare at the ceiling. Something nudged his leg, and he looked up to see Remus shaking his head in exasperation.

"If I can find someone who wants to shag me, anyone can."

Peter laughed and struggled into an upright position. "That's different. You're…"

Remus grinned. "I'm a fucking werewof in a cardigan with elbow patches, Pete, and somehow Seven looks at me every day and thinks, 'I'd quite like to ride him like a hippogriff–" He broke off as Mary dissolved into hysterical laughter. "Can I help you?"

"I just…" She held up a hand and shook her head. "Fuck, I just wish Black could've heard you say that."

He rolled his eyes. "Ugh, don't tell him. It'll only encourage him, and he doesn't need encouragement."

"No, he certainly doesn't," she said, wiping away tears of laughter. "But think about it, Peter. Black's favorite outfit is a cowboy hat, leather jacket, and pants, and despite this I still find him attractive."

"Don't lie," Remus said, raising his eyebrows. "You find him attractive because of that outfit."

"Fuck, you're right," she said, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I do. I have bloody strange taste. Lots of people do. Not to say that someone has strange taste because they want to shag you," she added, touching Peter's shoulder. "I'm just saying, everyone likes different things, and something about yourself that you find embarrassing might be what someone else loves about you." She gestured at Remus's jumper, running a finger along the elbow patches. "So maybe Remus thinks his jumpers are embarrassing, but Seven likes to grab onto the elbow patches when they're shagging–"

"Bloody hell, Mary," Remus said, jerking his arm out of her reach. "I'll never look at elbow patches the same."

Peter grinned. "Me neither."

"The point is," Mary said, making an impatient hand gesture, "there's someone out there who's going to find your narwhal pajamas adorable, someone who's going to see you in that Christmas apron and want to tear it off you."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Christmas apron?"

Peter shook his head. "Don't ask."

"And also," Mary continued, eyes bright with enthusiasm, "some people just really like shagging. Every person you shag doesn't have to be your future husband or wife. They don't have to meet some extensive criteria. Sometimes you just have to go for it because you want to shag and they want to shag and that's it. And there's nothing wrong with that, even though some people insist on being all judgey."

"I'm not liking the sound of the word judgey," Remus said, frowning. "It doesn't sound like a real word, but that might be because I'm stoned." He looked at her for a moment, brows knitted, and then a smile spread across his face. "You sound like Padfoot, by the way."

"Well, we agree – on the important things. at least." She turned to Peter and flashed him a reassuring grin. "You'll be alright, Peter. You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this."

"Thanks," he said, toying with the sleeve of his shirt. He was glad to confess the secret he had kept buried for so long, but he couldn't help feeling a touch of irritation. It was all well and good for her to tell him not to be embarrassed, but she wasn't the one who had fallen asleep.

"You don't seem convinced," she observed.

"I'm not," he admitted, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.

"I suppose that's fair." She pulled on a curl until it was straight, then released it so it sprang back. "Well, tell you what. After we finish school, I'm going to make it my personal mission to help you find someone to shag. I mean it. We're going out to the pub and you're taking someone home with you." She hesitated, frowning. "Or, back to Black's flat, if you like. You can use his bedroom. Our bedroom?" She shook her head in bemusement. "That sounds strange. Anyway, I'll change the sheets and everything, so it's sanitary and you don't find a half-eaten sandwich under the duvet. It's going to happen and it's going to be great, and I won't hear a word against it, alright?"

His smile widened, and his reservations ebbed away. "Yeah, alright."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her hair smelled of cigarette smoke and Sleekeazy's, and the contact filled him with a warm glow that drowned out the rest of his doubts. "You're alright, Peter Pettigrew. You're a good friend, and I just want you to be happy."

"Which to you means shagging," Remus said, smirking.

"Exactly." She picked her head up and looked at him, sadness clouding her features. "You're going to break up with Seven when we leave Hogwarts, aren't you?"

He nodded. "I have to."

She sighed. "I wish you wouldn't. She's lovely. Good-looking and fun and always up for our weird shenanigans, and I know she's good in bed, even if you refuse to confirm."

"I know," Remus said, a sad smile on his face. "I don't want to, but I still have to."

She shook her head. "You drive me mad. Both of you do, actually."

"But you love us anyway," Peter said, watching the telling smile light up her face.

"I do." She laughed and slid down onto her back. "Don't tell Black I said that. He'll only laugh at me."

"Course I won't, as long as you don't tell him the embarrassing saga of Peter Pettigrew," he said, attempting a stern glare. His face resisted the movement, and he thought he might just be staring. "You too, Moony, or I'll tell him what you told me about Valentine's Day."

Mary had been examining the end of a curl, but her head snapped up at his words. "Ooh, what did you tell him about Valentine's Day?"

A smug smile spread across Remus's face. "No, we've had enough confessions for one day. I don't want to take away from Pete's secret. Maybe I'll tell you next time."

Mary sighed. "Fine, you tease. Hey, can you hand me that box of Bertie Bott's from Black's trunk? My wand is over there, and I can't be arsed to stand up and get it."

Saturday, May 13, 1978

"I can't believe none of you have ever played Scrabble."

The group occupied their usual armchairs while Sirius and Mary sat cross-legged on the floor. They had already played several rounds of Exploding Snap and put a dent in the bottle of firewhisky when Lily remembered the Scrabble game she had brought back after the Easter holidays on a whim. Now they were divided into teams and Lily had just finished explaining the rules for the third time – James kept getting distracted and Sirius wouldn't stop dropping the letter tiles down Mary's shirt.

"This feels like a Remusy game," Sirius said, rearranging the letters on his rack and smirking as he showed the result to Mary.

"Remusy's not a word," Remus said, frowning down at his letters.

"Guess what is a word, though?" Sirius turned his rack so Remus could read the word spelled out there: ARSE.

"You're not supposed to show other people your letters, idiot," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "You would know that if you had actually listened to my instructions instead of trying to land your letters in Mary's cleavage."

Sirius shrugged and set his rack down on the floor beside him. "It's quite fun. You should try it. You'd probably be good at it, actually, since you're so good at quarters."

Mary reached across him to grab the A from the rack, then threw it at his forehead. "Yes, because I want even more people dropping things into my bra. Why don't we make that the next drinking game after we finish Scrabble?"

Sirius retrieved the A from beside Remus's foot and replaced it on the rack. "That's a great idea, Macdonald. We already know Prongs will be rubbish at it. He'll be afraid to look too closely at your chest in case Evans gets offended."

"Sod you," James said, glancing sideways at Lily. The sheepish expression on his face was so adorable that she leaned over to kiss him, knocking over the rack of letters balanced on the arm of their chair.

"What sort of drinking game rules are we adding?" Peter asked as James leaned forward to retrieve the letters.

"Well, I thought it might be fun if we tried to spell dirty words," Lily said. "You could choose someone to drink if you manage to spell out something dirty."

"Were you inspired by Black's immaturity?" Mary asked, grinning.

"You mean was she inspired by my hilarious creativity?" Sirius gestured for Seven to pass him the firewhisky, then topped off his glass. "I also think we should try to spell out the sort of words that Moony hates."

"I am not in favor of this idea," Remus said, scowling.

Seven chuckled and kissed Remus's cheek. "Do you mean words like Remusy?"

"Exactly." Sirius raised his glass in the air in Seven's direction. "Or, er, relationshippy. He hates that one."

"Or gropey," Peter added.

"None of those are words," Remus protested, appealing to Lily. "Isn't that one of the rules, that you have to play real words?"

"Technically, yes, but we can make our own rules," Lily said, shrugging. "Remus, do you and Seven want to go first? It seems only fair, since we're going to be torturing you with all of your least favorite words."

Remus sighed. "I suppose," he said, leaning closer to Seven to examine their letters.

An hour later Remus was frowning down at the board as Sirius put down the final E to spell out 'NIBBLE.'

"What's wrong with nibble?" Seven asked, smiling at Remus's grumpy expression. "That's a perfectly reasonable word."

"Say it out loud a couple of times," Remus said, wrinkling his nose. "You'll start to hate it, I promise."

"I'm out of letters," Sirius complained, holding up his empty rack.

"They're on the floor, genius," Lily said, pointing at the letters that littered the floor around Mary.

"Hang on, I think I have another one in here." Mary reached down her shirt and fished around, then pulled out a G with a triumphant grin.

Sirius smirked. "I would've gotten that for you." He plucked the letter from her hand and chuckled. "It's all warm."

"Can I have that, Padfoot?" Peter asked, gesturing at the letter Sirius was now throwing into the air. "I've been trying to spell shag for ages."

"Here you go, Pete." Sirius tossed the tile across the table; Peter made a grab for it but it slipped through his fingers and clattered onto the floor. "You can put it right there – add it to sauceless."

"I still don't understand what's wrong with sauceless," Seven said as Peter added his word to the board. "Or beachy, actually. You're a funny one, Remus Lupin." She took a sip of firewhisky, then tilted her head up to kiss him.

"He really is, isn't he?" James said, looking up from his letters to smile fondly at Remus. "Strangest sense of style, too. But look how cute he is."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Shut up. I don't think you're qualified to criticize anyone's style, by the way, seeing as you rotate through the same four Quidditch t-shirts."

"Give him some credit, Moony, he's up to five shirts now," Sirius said. "He's got that new one Evans got him for his birthday that he wore every day for about two weeks."

James shrugged. "It's a nice shirt." He leaned back in the chair and stretched, and as his t-shirt rode up, Lily admired the glimpse of his bare stomach.

"I think I'm in the mood to do something silly," she remarked, resting her hand on his knee.

"Sillier than playing Scrabble and spelling out swears and nonsense words?" Mary asked, edging her hand under Sirius's leg to retrieve another letter.

"I think so." Lily adjusted James's glasses, frowning. "How do these always get so crooked? I bet there's a spell to keep them in place…"

James grinned. "There is, but I like it better when you fix them for me." He pulled her in for a kiss that tasted of firewhisky. She closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar scent, ignoring Mary's snarky suggestion and the Scrabble tiles Sirius was throwing at them. When they broke apart, James was grinning even wider than before, and his eyes were bright behind those damn glasses that were crooked again.

"Let's go into Hogsmeade," she said, taking his hand. "It's on our bucket list. Everyone has to pet the goat."

"Veraminta?" Mary asked. "Ooh, yes, can we please? Let's bring her more Bertie Bott's. She liked the grass-flavored ones."

"Pretty sure Bertie Bott's are not the ideal food to feed goats," Sirius said, drumming his fingers against the side of his face. "But then again, I'm not a goat expert."

"You are definitely not a goat expert," Mary agreed. "I don't think Veraminta is going to like you. I'm not going to feel bad if she bites you."

"Rubbish," Sirius said, getting to his feet and helping Mary up. "Animals love me. Except Kath's stupid bloody cat." He held his hand in front of Mary's face. "Did you see what it did to me earlier?"

"That's because you were throwing Scrabble tiles at her," Lily said, maneuvering herself out of the armchair. "Are we actually going, then? Hang on, I'll get the Bertie Bott's."

It was dank and chilly in the secret passage, but Peter lit his wand and their chatter and laughter echoed off the stone walls. Lily put an arm around James and draped her other arm around Peter, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground to avoid stumbling over the uneven floor. Ahead of them, Sirius broke into song and Remus joined him while Mary giggled and begged them both to stop. Lily let the jumbled sounds wash over her, warmed by the alcohol and the solid presence of James and Peter beside her.

When they emerged into the little shed behind the Three Broomsticks and filed out into the clear, starry night, James and Lily led the way along the street until they reached the Hog's Head. Light from inside the pub spilled out onto the sidewalk, and they heard a burst of laughter as James pulled open the door and ushered the rest of them inside.

"I've never been in here," Seven said, eyes wide as she peered around at the dim, grimy interior of the pub. "Are we allowed?"

"Technically we're not allowed to be in Hogsmeade at all at the moment," Remus said, shrugging. "Although I'm sure this bloke won't be happy to see me in here." A sheepish grin spread across his face as he jerked his head at the bartender. "I did accidentally start a fire last time we were here."

"That could've happened to anyone," Sirius said, clapping him on the back. "Here, sit at this table and don't start any more fires, and I'll go get us some drinks. Macdonald, maybe you can come with me and ask him where the damn goat is, since you're the self-appointed goat expert."

Mary and Sirius strode up to the bar while the rest of them settled into chairs. Lily rested her elbows on the table, regretting this decision when her skin stuck to the sticky film that coated the filthy surface.

"Is there really a goat in here?" Seven asked, leaning forward in her chair to look around the pub. Two other tables were occupied, and a few people sat at the bar, but the pub was far emptier than Lily had ever seen the Three Broomsticks on a Saturday night. A radio sat on the edge of the bar and mingled with the voices and clink of glasses; Lily thought she detected the distinct sound of Celestina Warbeck's voice, but hoped she was wrong, in case Sirius decided to tell the bartender his opinions about her music.
"Yeah, look, she found it," Peter said, a grin breaking over his face.

Lily turned and saw Mary heading for their table, shaking a box of Bertie Bott's with each step. A brown and white goat trotted along beside her, butting its head against the cardboard box of beans. Sirius walked behind her, carrying two full pint glasses and shaking his head in amusement.

"Will one of you come help me with the rest of the drinks?" he said once he set down the two pints on the table. "I'm going to drop them if I try to levitate them, and then this bloody idiot would probably try to eat the glass." He held his hand out to the goat; it nipped at his finger, then nuzzled against his leg until he gave its head a pat. "Grumpy arsehole," he muttered, grinning as Lily walked beside him to the bar to retrieve the rest of their drinks.

"You're one to talk," she said, laughing. "I bet you'd bite people if you could."

He grinned and handed her two glasses. "Who says I don't? Just ask Macdonald."

"Ugh." She sidled around the goat to set the glasses down on the table before taking the empty chair beside James. "You're so weird."

Sirius sat down across from her and shrugged. "Not hard biting or anything, just the occasional nibble." He glanced across the table at Remus and smirked.

"Don't start," Remus said, scowling down into his pint. "Fucking nibble."

"Why are you bleeding?" Lily asked, nodding at Peter's finger as it dripped blood onto the table.

He grinned and wiped his finger on his trousers. "The goat bit me."

Sirius peered down at the cut and nodded. "That's a proper bite, too. Definitely more than a nibble."

Remus set down his pint, sloshing beer onto the table. "Padfoot, I'm going to murder you and feed your body to this goat."

Sirius smirked and tipped backward in his chair. "That's fine. I'll cut off your elbow patches and feed those to the goat."

Remus rolled his eyes. "How are you going to do that if you're dead?"
Sirius's chair wobbled, but James put out a hand to steady it.

"Thanks, Prongs," Sirius said, keeping his chair balanced on two legs. "I'd just come back as a ghost and annoy Macdonald until she does it for me." He flashed her a grin and landed his chair, knocking into the table and spilling even more of Remus's beer. "Except she'd probably waste away pining for me, because I'd be such a good looking ghost, and she wouldn't be able to shag me."

Mary sighed and shook her head. "I know I've said this before, but you're obnoxious."

Lily felt something brush against her leg and looked down to see the goat watching her with its wide, disconcerting eyes. She reached for her drink, then slid out of her chair and settled on the floor, holding out her hand until the goat nuzzled her fingers.

"I'm not sure sitting on the floor is advisable in here," James said, leaning sideways out of his chair to peer at her. His hair fell into his face and his glasses dangled from his nose; the effect was adorable, but she hoped the glasses weren't about to fall off, because she didn't want to stop petting the goat to catch them.

"It's okay, it can't be any riskier than sitting on Padfoot's bed." She took a sip, and a few droplets of beer rolled down her chin and landed on her shirt. Up at the bar, someone knocked over a drink; the bartender's irritated curses mingled with raucous laughter and the faint sound of a song that was definitely Celestina Warbeck. Lily leaned back against James's chair, stroking the goat's velvety ears and enjoying another sip of her beer. Her shoes stuck to the sticky floor and there was a strong smell of stale drink and cigarettes and an earthy scent she supposed must be goat, but she didn't mind. The dim lighting and the effect of the alcohol made her limbs and eyes heavy.

"You look like you're about to fall asleep."

Lily glanced over and realized James had joined her on the floor. She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I'm just content." She drained the last of her beer and put the glass down on the floor. "Did you pet the goat yet?"

"I don't trust her not to bite me." James held out his hand, then yanked it back when the goat looked in his direction. "See? She just about took Pete's finger off."

"Don't be so silly. You're not afraid of anything. She's just a sweet little goat."

She took his hand and extended it out until the goat sniffed their fingers, then butted her head against their intertwined hands until James chuckled and gave her a proper pat.

"See?" Lily picked her head up and turned to grin at him. "Told you."

"I should have known. You're always right."

He trailed his thumb along the side of Lily's face, then leaned in to kiss her. Something tugged on Lily's head, and she thought the goat might be trying to eat her hair, but she was too happy to care. She wrapped her arm around his waist and deepened the kiss, ignoring the goat and Mary's laughter and the light touch of what she suspected was a Scrabble letter bouncing off her head.

"You know, I'm going to miss all of you," Seven said later as they made the trek back to the castle. She and Mary had their arms draped around each other as they led the way along the narrow, damp passageway. They had tried to include Lily as well, but the three of them didn't fit side-by-side; this was just as well, because their steps became more and more unsteady, and Lily didn't want to be dragged down with them if they fell over.

"My friends aren't nearly this fun," Seven continued. "Next year's going to be so quiet."

"You'll just have to carry on our legacy of mischief and mayhem," James said. His hand was warm around Lily's, and although he had stumbled several times on the uneven stone floor, she knew he wouldn't let her fall. There was something about him that was solid and comforting and always made her feel safe no matter what ridiculous situation they had gotten themselves into.

"I suppose I will. Still, it won't be the same." She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes darting past Lily to where Remus ambled along beside Sirius. Her expression was so full of sadness and longing that Lily tore her gaze away, afraid that she was about to burst into embarrassing, drunken tears.

"You can come cause mischief and mayhem with us this summer," she blurted. "Mary and I are going to be living with James and Sirius in London, God help us. You can come out to the pub with us, and you and Remus can sleep on the couch — you're both skinny enough—"

"Don't be silly, Evans, that's why I have the bunk beds," Sirius called from behind her. "You can take the top bunk, Seven, if Moony's not too drunk to climb up. It's a lot of fun to shag up there. I'm speaking from personal experience, in case you were wondering."

"That's probably more information than you wanted," Lily said, chuckling. "But anyway, you should come."

Seven had stopped walking, pulling Mary to a stop beside her, and as her eyes met Lily's, they were full of regret.

"Yeah, thanks, maybe I will," she said, glancing back at Remus before turning around and setting off again with Mary in tow.

Lily and James exchanged glances, but they didn't comment on the conversation until they reached the castle and Seven, Mary, and Sirius took the first trip back to the portrait hole under the Invisibility Cloak.

"Remus, you can't break up with her," Lily said, releasing James's hand and turning to touch Remus's shoulder. "You make each other so happy, and she's so sweet and doesn't find James and Sirius completely obnoxious, and she's willing to drop everything and sneak into Hogsmeade with us."

"I have to, Lily," Remus said, heaving a sigh and picking at his cuticle. "She understands. We're just going to enjoy the next month." He shook his head and shook out of Lily's grasp. "I don't even know where I'll be in a month, or where I'm going to live—"

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," James said with a knowing smile.

Lily frowned at him, but he only shook his head as that infuriating smile widened.

"Of course I'm going to worry about it," Remus snapped. "I mean, I know I can't afford to live anywhere besides with my parents, but it's not fair to my poor mum, having to see me every day when she can barely get through the summers as it is. And my dad–"

"Moony, I've rented you a house," James said.

For a moment, none of them spoke. Peter stepped sideways and stumbled on a stone, grabbing onto Remus to stay upright, but besides his muttered swearing and the rock skittering across the floor, there was no sound.

"What do you mean, you've rented me a bloody house?" Remus said eventually, breaking the silence.

James grinned. "I've paid the owner of a residential building a monthly fee for you to reside there."

"You never told me that!" Lily said, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"Me neither," Peter said, his voice soft and full of wonder.

"I'd have thought you'd want to tell me of all people, seeing as I'm the one who's supposedly going to be living there," Remus said. "You can't rent me a house, Prongs, that's ridiculous. Write the bloke and tell him you've changed your mind and see if you can still get your money back."

"Can't," James said, still grinning. "It's paid in full for the next year. Non-refundable. I made sure of it, because I knew you might be a bit, you know, Remusy."

Lily waited for his irritated reaction, but he was apparently too shocked by James's act of generosity to object to the made-up word.

"You can still get out of it," he insisted. "Modify his memory so he forgets about the damn contract."

"Remus Lupin!" James's eyes were wide in mock indignation. "Are you advocating for the use of magic to manipulate a Muggle?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Then you live in it." He gestured at James and Lily. "You two can live there."

James shook his head. "No we can't. I've already promised Padfoot we'll live with him, and I'm quite looking forward to it."

"You can't rent me a house," Remus said, a pleading note in his voice. "I can't let you do that."

James ran a hand through his hair, then shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why not? You don't want to live with your parents, and even though I know you're not the burden to them you think you are, I understand why you don't want to live there. And you don't have any money to pay for your own place, and you can't very well get a job, seeing as Dumbledore's going to be sending you to who knows where for weeks or months at a time. And you'll need somewhere to stay when you're not off on missions, and I have the money to pay for this, so yes, I absolutely can rent you a house, and I did rent you a house, so how about you quit arguing and say, 'Thanks, Prongs, you're a wonderful, thoughtful, generous friend.' I will also be accepting compliments about my hair, overall good looks, and Quidditch ability, but, you know, I don't want to be greedy."

Remus stared at him, his mouth hanging open, before his gaze drifted to Lily and Peter and back to James.

"What about during the full moon? Is there anywhere…?" His voice trailed off, and despite his casual tone, Lily could hear the desperation and anxiety underneath.

"It's next to a bloody huge forest," James said. There was a smug quality to his voice, as though he had planted the forest himself. "As far as I can tell, nobody goes in there. Locals are afraid of it."

Remus's eyes lit up. "Really? So we can all…?"

James nodded. "That's why I chose this place. I spent way too much time with a mandrake leaf in my mouth not to keep running around with you lot during the full moon."

"But what about, you know, if you can't be there?" Remus continued, a slight tightness in his voice. "If it's just me?"

"There's a very secure cellar," James said, wincing. "Which I know isn't ideal, but hopefully you won't be alone for many full moons. And if you are, you won't get out." He grinned and added, "I told the bloke we'd be keeping a very naughty dog down there – I said we call him our furry little problem."

Remus chuckled. "Of course you did." His face clouded with emotion, and for a moment Lily was afraid he was about to cry. "Prongs, I can't believe you did this."

James shrugged. "Really? You can't? Because it seems like the sort of over-the-top gesture that has James Potter written all over it." He clapped Remus on the shoulder and grinned. "It's quite a nice cottage, by the way. Padfoot came with me to look at it, and he liked it, too. There's a built-in bookshelf for all your books, and a cozy little fireplace to read in front of, and a spare bedroom in case we want to stay."

Remus stood there, biting his lip and pulling at the skin between his thumb and forefinger, before turning to Peter.

"Pete, where are you going to live?"

Peter's eyes widened in alarm. "I, er…"

"Do you want to live with me?"

Peter's eyes got even wider, but then his face split into an earnest smile.

"Yeah, alright," he said, shrugging. "If you like."

This seemed to make Remus feel better somehow, because he nodded and turned back to James. "Thanks, Prongs. It's absolutely mad that you did this, and I fully intend to pay you back someday, but, well, thanks."

"I'm not taking a Knut from you," James said, shaking his head. "But you can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better."

James's delight was so palpable in the sound of his voice and the wide, easy quality of his grin that Lily couldn't help wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his chest.

"What's that for, Evans?" James asked, amused. "I didn't rent you a house. You're stuck living with me, Padfoot, and Mary."

She tightened her arms and tilted her head up to look at him. His glasses were crooked again, and his lips were turned up into that adorable grin, and his eyes were bright and slightly unfocused as he looked at her with pure adoration.

"I love you," she said, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "You're mad, absolutely mad, and ridiculous, and obnoxious, but bloody hell, I love you." She kissed him, then pulled away and laughed softly when she noticed Remus and Peter grinning at her. "Shut up."

"Just saying, I appreciate the gesture, Prongs, but I hope you're not expecting me to kiss you," Remus said.

"That's alright, I wouldn't want to make Seven angry," James said, his expression serious. "She's fast, and she's stronger than she looks. If she tried to hit me, it'd hurt."

"What did I miss?" Sirius said, appearing in the entrance to the secret passage with the Invisibility Cloak slung over his shoulder, so half of his body was concealed. The effect was disconcerting.

"I told Moony about his little cottage," James said, glancing sideways at Remus. "He nearly cried."

"You can't make fun of anyone for crying, mate," Sirius said, raising his eyebrows. "By the way, Moony, that spare bedroom's mine, alright?"

"He's already asked Peter to move in," Lily said, noticing Peter's eyes widen in alarm as he shuffled his feet and avoided looking at Sirius.

Sirius frowned at Remus. "Well, that's rude. I notice you didn't ask me to move in."

"You own your own flat," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "I'll find you a nice comfortable couch, though."

"Make sure it has nice, wide arms," James said, smirking. "So he doesn't fall off if he decides to dance on top of the couch like a prat again." He nodded at the Invisibility Cloak in Sirius's hand. "You three can take the cloak, and Evans and I will chance it without. There's a month left of school and we're Head Boy and Girl. Who's going to give us any trouble?"

He took her hand as they followed Remus, Peter, and Sirius out into the corridor, leaving enough space to avoid bumping into them while they were concealed under the cloak. They walked in silence for a minute, listening to the sound of their friends' footsteps and occasional giggles when one of them stumbled or the cloak started to slip. Lily sighed and squeezed James's hand, then glanced over at him.

"I can't believe you did that," she murmured, remembering the naked gratitude on Remus's face. "It was so sweet."

He shrugged. "What else would he have done? I have the money and he doesn't. What's the big deal? Last week he went to the kitchens and had snacks waiting when I came back from practice, and he looked over my Defense essay because I was too tired to decide if any of it made sense. We help each other out."

She shook her head in amazement. "It's hardly the same thing."

"Sure it is."

She laughed. "You're mad," she said again. "And how did you manage to keep something like that a secret?"

He shrugged again. "I'm full of all sorts of fun secrets."

"What kind of secrets?"

He glanced sideways at her and grinned. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore."

As they continued along the corridor, she stole a glance at him, wondering what other plans he had up his sleeve, then put it out of her mind, deciding he would reveal his secrets in due time. After all, the mystery was part of the fun.