Tuesday, May 16, 1978
Remus sat hunched over his Transfiguration book, frowning as he puzzled over a definition. It had made sense when McGonagall explained it, but now the words kept jumbling together in his head, and the raised voices carrying across the common room weren't helping. He rubbed his temples and sighed, then looked up at James.
"Prongs, when you're calculating how long a conjured object will last, do you figure in the weight of the object first or the experience of the caster?"
James glanced up from his own book and ran a hand through his hair. "What?"
"When you're calculating how long a conjured – fucking hell, what is going on over there?" He jerked his head in the direction of the commotion.
"I'm never going to remember any of this stuff!" came a panicked voice from across the room. "What's the point of studying when I know I'm going to fail every fucking exam?"
"I know the bloody feeling," Peter muttered.
James gazed across the room, then extricated himself from Lily's arms and stood up.
"Bubbles is having some sort of existential crisis. I'll see if I can fix it."
Remus sighed again. "It's alright, I can just go to the library," he began, but James was already striding across the common room.
"I love how optimistic he is, don't you?" Lily said, peering over the top of her book to watch James give the fifth year Chaser a bracing pat on the back before steering him back toward their cluster of chairs. "He thinks he can fix anything."
"Some people would call that delusional," Remus said, shrugging. "But optimistic is a nice way to put it."
A moment later James marched back with Bubbles in tow and gestured for him to take Sirius's empty chair.
"I'm panicking about all of my life decisions right now, but that doesn't mean I've lost all common sense," he said, eyes widening in alarm as he looked at the chair. "He'll hex the pants off of me if I take his seat."
"Don't worry, he and Mary just went upstairs," James said, waving a hand. "They'll be gone ages. Besides, I wouldn't let him hex you. Have a seat, Bubbles."
Bubbles cast a nervous glance at the dormitory stairs before settling into the chair.
"Right, Bubbles has O.W.L.s coming up in, er, how many days is it, Evans?"
Lily bit her lip. "Nineteen days."
"Nineteen days," James repeated. "And he hasn't exactly started studying yet."
"Oh no, Bubbles – what are you waiting for?" Lily demanded.
"Not particularly helpful, Evs," James said, settling back down beside her. "I was thinking, maybe one of us could give him a bit of motivation and maybe some study help…" His voice trailed off and he flashed Remus an innocent smile.
"Prongs…" Remus looked at James and heaved an exasperated sigh, then turned to Bubbles. The fifth year sat slumped in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. His clenched jaw and pale skin gave him a look of hopeless dejection. Remus cast a longing look at his Transfiguration textbook, then set it aside and flashed Bubbles a reluctant smile.
"Bubbles, would you like some help studying?"
Bubbles picked his head up to look at Remus. His red hair was disheveled and his eyes were still wide with panic. Remus's last fragments of resolve evaporated in the face of Bubbles's pathetic appearance. Bubbles had looked the same way two years ago when his mother had threatened to make him leave the Quidditch team if his grades didn't improve. Remus hadn't had the heart to say no back then, so he had spent hours tutoring Bubbles and some of his third year friends until Sirius started calling him Professor Lupin. Now that he was faced with the same situation, he knew he couldn't leave the kid to fend for himself, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Well, you were so helpful when you tutored me a bit before, so maybe you could help me again? But I don't want to bother you. I know you have N.E.W.T.s to worry about, and homework and prefect stuff and everything…"
And next week I'm going to be useless for approximately three days, he thought, already exhausted as he thought about the extra work he would have to put in before and after the full moon to avoid falling behind. If I knew what was good for me, I'd tell Bubbles I don't have time to help him. Let Prongs do it. Or let him figure it out on his own. He should have planned this out, worked out a study schedule…
Remus sighed and shook his head. "You're not bothering me. I'll just help you work out a plan and get you started, and then we can see how it goes from there. Alright, which exam are you most worried about?"
Bubbles sat up, a hopeful smile lighting up his face. "Thanks. I dunno why, but you have a way of making things less overwhelming." He studied Remus for a moment. "I think it's the cardigans. Anyway, I'm most worried about Transfiguration, but Defense is going to be tough, too. Macyntire hasn't taught us anything this year. He's a fucking tosser."
A wry smile spread across Remus's face. "Can't argue with you there. Okay, we're going to make a study schedule, and then I think you should start making some flash cards, because that seemed to work for you last time."
He pulled parchment, quill, and ink from his bag while Bubbles scurried back across the room to retrieve his books and share the good news with his girlfriend.
"What?" Remus asked when he saw James, Lily, and Peter smiling at him.
"You're just such a teacher," Peter said, nodding at the parchment Remus was cutting into small squares to use for flash cards. "You can't help it, can you?"
Remus smiled ruefully. "He just needs a bit of help getting organized, that's all."
"Moony, you're a real gem," James said, returning to his Transfiguration book.
When Seven returned from the library and perched on the arm of Remus's chair to give him a kiss, Bubbles was seated in Sirius's usual spot shuffling through his flashcards.
"I'm helping him study for O.W.L.s," Remus explained, nodding at Bubbles.
"That's kind of you." She leaned in to kiss him again, then pulled away and raised her eyebrows at Bubbles.
"Don't look at me like that, Seven." A sheepish grin spread across Bubbles's face. "I know you told me to get going on studying ages ago when I mentioned I hadn't even started, but I don't listen, alright? Except I do listen to Remus, for some reason."
Seven grinned down at Remus. "He does have that effect, doesn't he? I think it's the cardigan."
"That's what I said!"
Seven leaned closer to Remus. "It's really sweet of you to help him. Do you have a lot more to do, or do you think you could sneak off to the reading spot for a bit? I got a couple of new books I think you might like."
The pressure of her fingers on his arm made his heart speed up.
"I'll meet you there in five minutes," he said, fighting to keep his tone nonchalant. "I'll bring us a snack."
When Seven was out of earshot, Bubbles looked up at Remus and smirked.
"So you two are going to do a bit of 'reading?'"
"We both like to read," Remus said, shrugging.
"I bet you do."
Remus grinned in spite of himself. "Mind your business and study those flashcards."
Bubbles gave him a thumbs up. "Yes, Professor Lupin."
"Don't call me that," he muttered, getting to his feet and trying to repress a smile as he crossed the room and headed for the portrait hole. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw Bubbles return to the flashcards.
Wednesday, May 17, 1978
Sirius dropped his cigarette and ground it out under his boot, then looked over at Mary with a thoughtful frown on his face.
"You know, Macdonald, I don't really feel like going to Defense today."
Mary blew out a stream of smoke before dropping her own cigarette onto the ground and Vanishing it along with Sirius's. They were leaning against the side of the castle, enjoying the afternoon sun in the courtyard before their last class of the day. There was a light breeze that lifted Mary's curls, and the weather made Sirius want to ditch his bag and uniform and stride straight out the front doors.
"When do you ever feel like going to Defense?" Mary said, laughing and picking up her bag.
"Well, never. But the urge to skive off is extra strong today." He gestured at the blue sky. "Look at this day. Why should we waste it listening to Macyntire?"
Mary wrapped a curl around her finger and frowned. "Well, we do have N.E.W.T.s coming up. What if we miss something important?"
"We won't. And if we do, Moony will catch us up. Honestly, we'd learn more from Moony than that git." He watched Mary's resolve weaken as her frown relaxed into a smile.
"Yeah, alright."
They returned to the cool, dim corridor, and Sirius nodded at James and Lily walking a bit ahead of them.
"Come on," he said, jogging to catch up to them.
"Oh, good, I was worried you were going to be late again," James said. "Macyntire's about had it with you two."
"We've about had it with him, too," Sirius said, nudging Mary and grinning. "Haven't we, Macdonald?"
She nodded. "I don't think I fancy him breathing his horrible coffee breath in my face today."
"So if you wouldn't mind taking our bags back to the common room for us after class, we're going to go enjoy the afternoon," Sirius said, handing his bag to James. "Tell Macyntire I said to sod off, will you?"
"Or you could tell him we're ill," Mary said, offering her bag to a bemused Lily. "Or that I'm having horrible menstrual cramps and Black has gone in search of chocolate for me, whatever you like."
"Ugh, I'm not saying that," James said, pulling a face.
"Tell him we've fucked off to Hogsmeade, for all I care," Sirius said with a shrug. "Anyway, have fun in class."
He put a hand on Mary's back and steered her down the corridor; they didn't slow their pace until Sirius pushed open the double doors and they stepped out into the brilliant sunlight.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Mary asked as they walked side-by-side across the lawn toward the path to Hogsmeade. "The Three Broomsticks? The Hog's Head?"
Sirius shook his head. "It's too nice out. I thought we could go on a bit of an adventure. There's this spot we found once during the full moon. It involves a bit of walking, but it'll be worth it if I can remember how to get there."
She shrugged and turned her face up to the sun. "You know I'm always up for an adventure."
Sirius lit another cigarette and passed one to Mary, and they walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sunshine and the unexpected freedom. Hagrid waved to them from his garden as they passed, but otherwise the grounds were deserted. Sirius stole a glance at Mary, noticing how the sun illuminated the flecks of gold in her hair as the cigarette smoke made a haze around her face. When she turned to look at him, he faced forward again and took a drag on his cigarette.
"Were you gazing at me like a sentimental sod?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Sod off, Macdonald, do I look like James Potter to you?"
"No, you have much better hair." She reached up and ran her fingers through the strands to demonstrate.
"Damn right I do." He draped his arm around her shoulders, savoring the closeness of her body. "And let's be honest, I have a better arse, too."
When they reached Hogsmeade, they skirted the village and headed for the path behind it that led to the mountain. The ground grew rocky and steep, and Sirius stripped off his shirt and tie, leaving them on the side of the path to retrieve when they returned. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but the breeze was cool on his skin, and it felt good to be outdoors, even if his boots weren't ideal for hiking. He peeked over at Mary and noticed she had undone the top three buttons of her shirt to reveal a glimpse of the silky red bra underneath. When she glanced over at him and raised her eyebrows, he grinned and shrugged.
"I assumed you unbuttoned those buttons for my benefit. Figured I might as well enjoy the view."
She laughed and shook her head. The motion made the sunlight reflect off her glossy curls.
"I catch you looking at me fully-clothed and you deny it, but I catch you staring down my shirt and you own up to it proudly?" She grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop, slipping her hands under his t-shirt and standing on tiptoe to press her face close to his. "Classic Sirius Black."
"At least I'm consistent."
He twined a hand in her hair and kissed her. The sun had left her skin warm, and he tasted a hint of salt on her upper lip. When he pulled away her eyes were bright and the skin revealed by her unbuttoned shirt was flushed. They set off again, both slightly breathless but wearing wide smiles.
The path narrowed and got even steeper, and Sirius expected Mary to complain, but she only tightened her jaw in determination and pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. When the trail curved off to the right, he slowed and frowned at a familiar copse of trees, then grinned and took Mary's hand, leading her through the brush and saplings until they reached the mouth of a cave.
"You came all this way during a full moon?" she asked, stepping into the cave and looking around in delight.
"Yeah, well, I move faster as a dog," he said, following her inside and sliding down onto the smooth stone floor. "It's brilliant though, isn't it? I keep trying to get them to come back, but we had sort of a close call down by the village, so we haven't been back."
She sat down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. A strand of hair tickled his nose, and he brushed it away, then planted a kiss on the top of her head before he realized what he was doing. Mary's hand slid over to rest on his leg, and although he couldn't see her face, he knew she was smiling.
"I'm going to miss this," she said, sighing. "The castle and the grounds, and skipping class with you, smoking in the courtyard and complaining about Macyntire and sneaking around after curfew, and all of our other stupid adventures. All of it."
"Me too," he admitted. "But at least you won't have to miss all of this." He gestured at himself.
"Cocky arsehole," she said, laughing.
"Like I said earlier, at least I'm consistent." He toyed with a curl until she grabbed his wrist and guided it down beside her. "Hey, do you remember the day we walked to Hogsmeade last year, during our free period when everyone else was in class? It was a day sort of like today, and you wore those tiny shorts I like, and it was just a really excellent day."
"The day we shagged out by the lake under the Invisibility Cloak?" she asked, shifting closer to him. "Of course I remember."
"That cloak is underutilized," he said, his hand drifting up to fiddle with the buttons on her shirt. "Prongs and Evans could use it to have sex literally anywhere in the castle, and we're the only ones who have ever used it for that purpose."
"That's because we're the best couple." She giggled but didn't push his hand away. "Or at least, we have the best sex life."
He grinned. "We really do."
"You're not going to argue that I called us a couple?"
"No, I suppose there's no arguing against it now. It's fine, as long as we don't have to do, you know, couply things."
"We do plenty of couply things," she said, laughing. "Shagging and sharing a bed and moving in together — that's all quite couply."
"You know what I mean, Macdonald. Holding hands and going to Madam Puddifoot's and talking about our feelings." He managed to undo another button, then added, "Talking about our feelings sober, I mean."
"Alright, fair." She lifted her head up and peered around to look at him, smirking. "Are you unbuttoning my shirt for a particular reason, or are you just bored?"
He shrugged. "You did just say we have the best sex life, and we're in this lovely little cave…"
She pressed her lips against his, slipping her tongue into his mouth and helping him undo the rest of the buttons.
"I think I'm laying on a rock," Mary announced later, rolling over and pressing herself closer to Sirius. She reached behind her and held her hand in front of her face to examine a sharp little pebble. "Yup, there it is. I'm probably going to have a weird bruise."
Sirius laughed, his breath stirring Mary's hair. "I think one of my knees is bleeding. It's alright, though. It was worth it."
Mary's hand found his scar and began to trace the raised, jagged line. Sirius closed his eyes, enjoying the familiar, soothing motion of her fingers.
"What do you think Macyntire would say if we told him we skipped his class to do unspeakable things in a cave?"
Sirius's eyes snapped open; somehow he had started to fall asleep, even on the cold, rocky ground.
"What? Oh, he'd probably do that pompous little frown that makes me want to punch him. But it's alright, we can just tell him we were looking for dark creatures to practice on for the N.E.W.T. exam. This cave would be perfect for a Boggart."
"It probably would." Her fingers continued their steady progress across his chest, and his eyes grew heavy again. "What form would a Boggart take for you, do you think?"
His breath caught in his chest. Unbidden, an image filled his mind: Regulus crumpled on the ground with blood trickling from his mouth while Sirius stood over him, wand still held aloft. He didn't need a boggart to show him his biggest fear — his brain did that all on its own.
"What form would it take for you?" he retorted, his offhand tone concealing the prickle of fear that had made his limbs tense. "An empty bottle of Sleekeazy's?"
She laughed and returned to tracing his scar. "Shut up. I guess that was kind of a personal question, wasn't it?"
"It came dangerously close to talking about our feelings," Sirius agreed. He let his body relax into her touch as the image of Regulus's dead body faded. "I'll tell you sometime when I'm less sober," he added, reaching over to rest his hand on her waist.
"That's fair," she murmured. "I'll do the same." She sighed and tried to rise, but Sirius tightened his arm around her. "We've got to get up at some point. We have homework to do and won't have time to do it tomorrow if we have detention. And Remus got that letter from his dad that he was waiting until tonight to open, so he might need moral support or a hug or a joint or maybe all three…"
"Can't we stay here and avoid our problems for a bit longer?" He pulled her closer, wincing as a pebble jabbed his leg.
"Black…" Words hovered in the silence, unspoken but understood by both of them. The month ahead of them was really just a way to avoid their problems, masquerading as the final Quidditch match and studying and exams and whatever shenanigans they managed to fit in before graduation. As soon as they left the castle and settled into their adult lives, their problems would be there waiting for them. Sirius knew that, and Mary did, too, because it was all any of them could think about these days. Yet with these thoughts looming over them like a constant rain cloud, Sirius was glad Mary didn't voice her worries aloud. For now, nestled in this chilly cave on top of rocks that scraped their skin, he was glad for a brief reprieve from reality. Somehow, Mary always seemed to appreciate this as much as he did. I suppose that's why I love her so much, he mused, before he cringed at his own sentimentality and pushed the thought aside.
"I know, we have to get up," he said, sighing and disentangling himself from Mary before getting to his feet. "You're cold, and there are about five rocks poking my arse."
Mary laughed and heaved herself up beside him. "I could probably be persuaded to stop at the prefects' bathroom before we do our homework," she said, brushing a smudge of dirt from her leg. "I could have another bash at beating you at a cannonball contest, as long as you don't mind Myrtle having a look."
He grinned and reached over to pull a twig from her hair. "She can look all she wants. What do I care?"
They pulled on their clothes and stepped out of the cave. The sun was setting, bathing the trees and the rough path in a dim, golden light. Sirius glanced over at Mary as they headed back down the mountain, stepping carefully over the uneven ground. He watched the last weak rays of sunlight illuminate her tousled curls and a smear of dirt on her creased shirt. A smile lifted his lips as she walked just a step ahead of him, and he was glad she couldn't see the expression on his face. He let himself admire her for another moment, full of gratitude for her constant, unassuming presence, before he turned his attention to the path so he wouldn't trip on the roots and rocks that littered the trail ahead of him.
Friday, May 19, 1978
James slumped down onto the bench, sweat cooling on his skin and a faint ache weighing down his limbs. A hushed silence hung in the locker room after the rest of the team had trudged back to the castle, and he let the quiet envelope him as he savored the satisfied weariness that followed a difficult training session. He had experienced this sensation so often that he had taken it for granted, and now that his Quidditch practices were dwindling, he felt an unexpected rush of sadness. Would the match next weekend be the last proper Quidditch game he ever played? The thought gave him a heavy, sick feeling in his stomach.
"Are you coming?" Seven asked, leaning against the doorway. A few strands of hair stuck out from her braid, and her skin was bathed in a thin sheen of sweat.
"I said you didn't have to wait for me," James said, heaving himself to his feet and gathering up his things.
"I know." She remained in the doorway until he joined her, and they stepped out into the evening air. A steady drizzle soaked the grass and mingled with the sweat on James's skin, but he didn't bother doing anything to keep the rain off – he didn't have the energy.
"You were good tonight," he said, glancing over at her. "We're going to win the Quidditch Cup for sure, even with a big point deficit to make up."
He waited for the glow of pride that usually followed a bit of praise, but it didn't come. Instead, she frowned and tugged at the end of her braid.
"Are you worried about the match, or sad you won't be playing Quidditch after this?" Her direct tone startled him so that he had to scramble not to drop his bag.
"How do you know–?"
She laughed and shook her head, sending little droplets of water flying from the end of her braid. "I've been playing with you for three years, James. And in case you didn't know, you're not particularly hard to read. I used to think Remus was more of a challenge, but I figured him out pretty quick. You can tell a lot by the lines around his mouth. And if that doesn't work, his fingernails are a dead giveaway. If they're bleeding, you know it's a bad day." She smiled, a sad smile full of affection and regret and sorrow, and for a moment it made James forget his own melancholy.
"But we're not talking about Remus," she continued. "We're talking about you. So what is it? You think we're going to lose, or you're sad it's all coming to an end?"
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair and sending a trickle of water down his back.
"I heard Dumbledore gave permission for scouts from Montrose and Tutshill to come watch the match." It wasn't an answer, and yet it was.
"I heard Puddlemere United is going to be there, too. They could use a decent Chaser." She glanced sideways at him, eyes wide, and added, "Which one would you choose, if you weren't going on to do something more important than Quidditch?"
He didn't bother pointing out that none of the teams had actually offered him a spot yet. They would, all three teams, probably with a generous sign-on bonus that he didn't need. Seven knew this just as well as he did, so he didn't see the point in false modesty.
"The Tornados, probably," he said, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder as they climbed the stairs and approached the double doors. "I like their management the best. And I think my style of play would mesh well with their Chasers. But Montrose wouldn't be bad, either." Hell, he would settle for signing with the Cannons if it meant he got to fulfill his dream of playing professional Quidditch, but he wasn't going to admit that out loud. Seven didn't need to know he was that desperate.
"I could see you on the Tornados," she said, nodding. "I feel like they do a lot of creative, risky plays which is where you really shine. And you'd look good in the uniforms."
James chuckled. "I really would, wouldn't I?" He pulled open the door and stood aside to let Seven go first. Their feet squelched and squeaked against the floor of the Entrance Hall, and he took off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt, but the fabric was so wet that it barely did anything. "Evans would take one look at me in those uniforms, and she'd want to tear them off right off me."
"I think that would be a violation of league rules," she said, wringing water from the end of her braid as they climbed the stairs next to the Entrance Hall. "If they fined that bloke on the Appleby Arrows for wearing the wrong sort of helmet, it's got to be a violation to play naked."
"Might be a bit distracting," he agreed. "But I might be more aerodynamic without clothes. I'll ask Sirius. I'm sure he's flown naked at least once in his life." His face lit up as he added, "You could all come watch my matches. It would be a laugh. Except you'd have to make sure Sirius doesn't try to wear any of his Cannons stuff, because I don't want any of my teammates knowing my best mate is a Chudley supporter."
She laughed, then slowed as they reached the top of the stairs. "You could always try to get back into Quidditch once you're finished being noble and brave, you know."
He sighed and leaned against the banister, then adjusted his glasses as they began to slide down the bridge of his nose. "Maybe. But who knows how long this is going to take? Nobody will want me if I disappear off the face of the earth and come back five years later. Not even the Cannons are that desperate."
She raised her eyebrows. "I wouldn't be too sure. Who knows what five more years of constant losing will do to their recruitment strategy? They might be asking Remus to play for them at that point."
James laughed, imagining Remus clad in a bright orange Chudley Cannon's uniform as he tried not to fall off his broom. "I mean, he has no skills whatsoever, so he'd be a completely blank slate. They could train him however they wanted to."
"That's what I was thinking." A smile tugged at her lips as she wiped a smear of mud from the sleeve of her jumper. "The first skill they work on should really be holding onto the broom. He tends to forget to do that."
"Hey, give the man some credit. He's fine with holding onto the broom, except when he also needs to catch or throw the Quaffle, or dodge a Bludger, or if you ask him a question…"
"Multi-tasking is hard." Seven gave up on removing the mud and looked up at James, her eyes bright and earnest. "He's so bloody adorable, though."
James shrugged. "He's not my type." He frowned as he watched her for a moment, then raised his eyebrows and began, "You know, maybe you two could—"
She shook her head and held up a hand. "Don't, James. He's already made up his mind. There's no point in arguing, and it's just going to make me sad."
"Well, alright," James said, glancing sideways to flash her a rueful smile. "I wouldn't want to make you sad, because you're clearly a ray of sunshine right now."
She laughed, then scowled at him. "Shut up. You're one to talk." She fiddled with the end of her braid and bit her lip. "Winning the Quidditch Cup would make me feel better, I think."
A smile spread across James's face. "Me too."
"Guess we'll have to win, then." She nudged James. "You're going to cry when they hand you the Cup. I know it."
"Am not."
She shot him a dubious look. "You cried last year."
"Well, that was an emotional win," he said, a touch of indignance in his tone.
"And this one's going to be twice as emotional," she insisted. "If you don't cry, I'll moon the entire common room."
"I'll hold you to that." He ran hand through his hair, trying to force his tumultuous emotions into coherent words. "I'm going to miss playing with you. And with Bubbles and Sunshine and everyone. And our team breakfasts and parties after the matches and even practices. I've been playing for Gryffindor since second year. It feels big, being done with Quidditch."
She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to miss playing with you, too. You've been such a big part of the team for so long that it will be strange playing without you. Who's going to give us those mad pre-match pep talks and make up ridiculous rules and make us run all over the grounds at the crack of dawn once a month to 'build stamina and morale?'"
"I suppose you'll have to," he said, grinning. "Why do you think I'm choosing you to be the new Captain? You're just as much of a fanatic as I am."
"That's not for sure, you know. You just make a recommendation. The decision is ultimately up to—"
"Seven, it's yours," James said, rolling his eyes. "I've been running this bloody team for three years. If I say you're the next Quidditch Captain, you're the next Quidditch Captain."
She nodded. "If you say so. But you still have a week left as Captain, you know. Better make it count."
"I guess I'd better." He grinned at her for a moment, watching a raindrop roll down the side of her face to splash onto the floor, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a damp hug. "Thanks, Seven. For everything."
When he released her, she was biting her lip and blinking more than usual.
"Thanks for taking a chance on me and teaching me so much and always challenging me to be better." She glanced sideways at him and grinned as she added, "And thanks for letting me be a part of some of your shenanigans. It's been a really fun year." She squeezed his shoulder, then nodded at the corridor ahead of them. "Come on. We need a shower and dry clothes, and then I think you should get Lily to rub your shoulders, because you've earned it after tonight's practice, even though the sounds you make are practically indecent."
He grinned and set off for the Gryffindor common room. "I'll try to keep the noises to a minimum. No promises, though. She gives really good shoulder massages."
As they walked side-by-side down the corridor, his clothes stuck to his skin and his muscles ached, but he wore a weary smile. He sighed and quickened his pace, cheered by Seven's words and the prospect of a Friday night with his friends and Lily's deft fingers working the knots from his shoulders.