Saturday, June 18, 1977
"You'll have to come and visit once I get my flat in London," Sirius urged Mary as he lay sprawled on the floor on the train compartment with his legs propped up against the seat. "You can be second to ride my motorbike with me."
"I assume James will be first?" Mary asked, taking a bite of a pumpkin pasty and brushing crumbs from her lap.
"Obviously," James said. He and Peter were tossing a Quaffle back and forth; Peter threw it too wide, and James just barely managed to catch it, knocking Remus's book onto the floor in the process.
"Watch it, Prongs. Don't come between Moony and his books," Sirius said, retrieving the book and handing it to Remus. "Are you going to ride on my motorbike?"
Remus laughed. "No fucking way. Judging by the way you fly a broom and operate a sled, you'll probably drive us into a building, and I'd like to stay alive, if it's all the same to you." He flipped through his book, attempting to find his page.
"I'll give it a go," Peter said, catching a hard pass from James and grunting as the Quaffle hit him in the stomach.
"Thanks, Wormtail. See, Moony, he trusts me, I dunno why you don't. Just because I can be a bit reckless once in a while doesn't mean I'm going to get you killed." He adjusted his position so that his back rested against Mary's legs.
"Are you really getting a motorbike?" Lily asked, tipping a few Bertie Botts into her hand and examining a green one.
"Yeah, why not?" Sirius replied. "You can ride on it too if you like, but I dunno. You're going to have to hang on tight, especially once I tinker with it and get it to fly, and Prongs might get too jealous."
"Shut up," James said, grinning and aiming the Quaffle at Sirius's head. Sirius reacted just in time and snatched it out of the air, then threw it one-handed to Peter.
"You're going to tinker with it and get it to fly?" Lily repeated, frowning. "Is that legal?"
"Definitely not," Sirius said. "But since when do I care if stuff's legal?"
"Is it safe?" Lily persisted. "Do you know what you're doing, or is it going to fly for five minutes and then send you crashing to your death?"
"I understand the theory behind making something fly. It isn't hard," Sirius replied. "And I did an entire project on motorbikes for Muggle Studies, so I know how they work, at least hypothetically. So it's just a matter of applying my theoretical knowledge in a practical way. A bloke in my Muggle Studies class is supposed to come help me - he has a motorbike of his own, even though he hasn't done any modifications on it, and James is always good at fucking with something until it works, so I figure one way or another I'll get it done." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Have some faith in me, Evans, will you?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, all right. Just, you know, be careful." She smiled wryly. "I'd hate to see you get yourself killed. I've just recently stopped thinking you're an obnoxious drama queen - well, that's not exactly true, because you are in fact an obnoxious drama queen, but now I don't find you quite so intolerable."
"I'm going to consider that a compliment," Sirius said, leaning his head back so Mary could play with his hair.
When the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross Station hours later, Sirius and Mary hung back as everyone else struggled out of the compartment, laden with trunks and various owl cages. Sirius bent to retrieve a copy of Witch Weekly that had fallen onto the floor by Mary's seat and placed it in her bag. They looked at each other for a moment, both unsure how to say goodbye without crossing the arbitrary line they had created for their unconventional relationship.
"Are you going to write to me?" Mary asked finally, hoping her question sounded more offhand than she had meant it.
"If you're lucky," Sirius replied. "Actually, have you got a telephone? Because I expect I can find a payphone that's not too far from my flat, and if I get bored maybe I'll give you a call and annoy you."
"You know how to use a telephone?" she asked, incredulous. "When have you ever used a telephone?"
"Well, I haven't ever used a real one," Sirius admitted. "But I know what to do. We practiced in Muggle Studies."
She snorted with laughter. "You're kidding! That's hilarious, but also adorable." She pictured Sirius sitting in class, frowning in concentration as he dialed a number on a fake telephone. "All right, yeah, I'll write down my number." She pulled a scrap of parchment and a quill from her bag and scrawled her phone number, then tucked it into his pocket. She opened her mouth to speak again, longing to let the almost tangible weight of her unspoken words tumble out, but instead she merely stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her and entwined a hand in her hair, and it seemed like he understood somehow exactly what she wanted to say without her having to utter a word.
They broke apart eventually, and Sirius pushed her curls out of her face and grinned at her. "I'll write you when I get my flat, and you can come and stay when you have a day off from the diner. I could come pick you up in my motorbike, if you want."
She smiled and picked up her trunk. "I'd like that," she said, leading the way out of the compartment.
"Maybe I'll even come into the diner when you're working. You know, practice blending in with Muggles and using Muggle money. It's part of my summer homework."
She glanced back at him and smirked. "The other waitresses will love you. They're always falling over any even remotely decent-looking bloke who comes into the restaurant."
"I'm intrigued. Are they attractive? Would I be interested in any of them? The waitresses, I mean, not the blokes."
She laughed. "Most of them are at least twice my age."
"That doesn't answer my question," Sirius replied.
They exited the train together, and Mary noticed Sirius's jaw tighten as they passed Regulus and a dark-haired woman who must be their mother. For a moment she feared one of them would say something and cause a row, but Sirius looked straight ahead and strode past without so much as a glance in their direction.
"Look, is that Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" she asked, trying to take his mind off the tense encounter. "They're bloody adorable, aren't they?" They apparently had not been able to decide which of them would hug James first, so he was sandwiched between them in a lopsided but enthusiastic embrace.
"Yeah, they are pretty bloody adorable," Sirius agreed. After releasing James, they had spotted Sirius and were now waving at him with enormous grins spread over their faces. "I suppose I'd better go over there before they make a spectacle of themselves." He frowned slightly. "Is your mum picking you up?"
Mary nodded. "I told her it was silly, I can just take the Muggle bus home myself, but she insisted. I'm going to go and wait for her outside of the barrier, although she's always late, so I'm sure I'll be sitting there for ages." She grinned at him. "I'll see you around, Black," she said, before setting off through the crowd of students and parents. Just before she stepped through the barrier, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw Mrs. Potter wrapping Sirius in a warm hug. Even from a distance, Mary could not miss the pure, uninhibited joy on Sirius's face, and she forced herself to look away, feeling as though she should not intrude on this private moment.
After stepping through the barrier, she scanned the crowd for a sign of her mother, but failed to spot her and sat down on a bench to wait. She attracted the occasional odd look when her owl hooted or fluttered around in the cage, but otherwise nobody paid any attention to her. To keep herself busy she began French braiding her hair. As she pulled her curls taut and deftly wound the strands together, she tried to feel cheerful about the long stretch of summer months looming ahead. Maybe this summer would be different. Maybe her mother was drinking less. Maybe there would be fewer strange blokes her mother had met Merlin-knows-where, sitting at her kitchen table rummaging through her refrigerator and looking her up and down when her mother wasn't paying attention. Maybe she wouldn't have to work quite so many hours at the diner to make sure her mother had enough money to fall back on when she inevitably squandered her own paycheck on booze or "lent" money to the boyfriend of the week after he gave her some pathetic sob story about needing an operation or paying off a debt.
Mary glanced up at the station clock and realized with a start that had been sitting there brooding for over an hour. She sighed, realizing her mother was not coming. Maybe she should stop deluding herself.
She gathered her belongings and made her way over to the nearest bus stop. She reached into her pocket to make sure she had enough Muggle money, glad she always kept some on hand for situations like these. When the bus pulled up, the driver narrowed his eyes in confusion at Mary's owl cage, but he seemed to take pity on her when he noticed her downcast expression, because he didn't complain but simply took her fare and helped her heave her trunk onto the bus.
She sat with the owl cage on the floor, jammed against her shins, and watched London pass by out the window. Remembering her Witch Weekly issue in her bag, she pulled it out and flipped through the pages, trying to distract herself from her disappointment and hurt, and the nagging feeling that she should have known better than to expect much from her mother in the first place. As she stopped at an article about the wedding of a Bulgarian Quidditch player to the heiress to the Bertie Botts fortune, a scrap of paper fluttered out and landed on the floor. She bent to pick it up, immediately recognizing Sirius's handwriting. A smile spread slowly over her face as she began to read.
Hello, Macdonald,
You are currently asleep on the train with your head on my lap, which, as previously discussed, is a bit boyfriendy, but I've decided to let it slide. Since everyone is either asleep, reading a dreadfully boring book, or daydreaming about snogging a certain feisty redhead, I've decided to write you a note to entertain myself.
I'm actually looking forward to this summer, which feels really weird, because when I was living with Walburga and Orion, summers were more unbearable than sitting through History of Magic, or watching Pete snog Bertha Jorkins, or listening to James go on about Evan's eyes, or, well, you get the picture. I hope you do come and stay, because I think it'll be a real laugh, plus I don't know if I could make it through the entire summer without you feeding my enormous ego. Hopefully the diner gives you a day off once in a while so you can make the trip. Don't think I won't actually go in there while you're working, too, because I wasn't joking. I want to see the respectable-looking middle aged lady who reads the dirty books, and I plan on impressing you with my ability to properly use Muggle money, even though I suppose you won't be very impressed, as
you've been doing that your whole life. Also, I'm excited to see you in your uniform, as I bet it's quite sexy.
We should also take some sort of trip on the motorbike - maybe to the sea. The Potters have a second home by the sea, and it's probably my favorite place to go in the world. I bet we could make the trip in no time if we fly. Also, unrelated, but I've decided to get a tattoo this summer, I can't remember if I told you that. You should get one, too. Maybe something like "Sirius Black is the best shag I've ever had," with a little heart or something.
Well, I'm going to end this, because it's getting difficult to write without waking you up. I hope you enjoyed my rambling, and aren't too depressed about the prospect of summer, because as previously discussed, this summer is going to be excellent as it is going to involve much more of me than your summers normally do.
Sincerely, your most hilarious and sexiest friend,
Sirius Orion Black
P.S. Just looked down and noticed you're drooling, so I can't wait to make fun of you for that.
\
Mary folded up the note and put it back in her bag, then rummaged around until she found a Honeydukes bar. She unwrapped it and broke off a piece, then ate it slowly, savoring the familiar, comforting taste that reminded her of her Wednesday afternoons with Sirius. She thought of the months ahead of her and smiled. Maybe she hadn't been fooling herself after all. Maybe this summer wouldn't actually be so bad.