Author's note: This fic is complete and will update on Sundays.

My parallel Jily fic Can I go where you go? posts on Thursdays if you'd like to read them at the same time. It's the same timeframe with a lot of the same events, but James and Lily are a bit less dysfunctional than these idiots.

Hot sun beat down on the walkway, scorching the scrubby grass that forced its way up through the cobblestones, but it was cool and dark inside the house. Dorcas led them down a narrow hall, bypassing the living room where the Order members had squeezed onto worn sofas and rickety chairs for the meeting the previous evening. They emerged in a cozy sitting room packed with overflowing bookshelves. She sat down at a window seat lined with cushions, and motioned for them to take the wicker chairs beside it. As they sat, Sirius's knee bumped Mary's hand. She didn't move away, enjoying the light contact.

"Do either of you have any experience with Occlumency?" Dorcas asked, tucking her long legs underneath her.

Mary shook her head, then turned to look at Sirius when he muttered, "Yeah, a bit."

"You do?"

"All the Blacks are taught Occlumency." His voice turned bitter. "It was supposed to help prevent Muggle-borns from stealing our magic or some bollocks."

She snorted with laughter. "What?"

"You didn't know you could steal my magic just by touching me? What a wasted opportunity, Macdonald. You could've turned me into a Squib by now." He tipped back in his chair and rolled his eyes. "I thought it was bloody stupid, even as a kid. Walburga kept trying different, er, approaches to motivate me to improve, but even she gave up eventually. I lack the proper control, apparently."

Mary swallowed, trying not to imagine what sort of strategies Walburga might have used to motivate young Sirius.

"Have you attempted Occlumency since?" Dorcas considered him through a curtain of long hair streaked with silver. "You might find your control has improved as you've matured."

"Doubt it, but I appreciate your optimism. I'll give it a go."

Dorcas nodded and straightened. "Right. Well, Occlumency is all about controlling and organizing your thoughts, because that's what allows you to protect them. So the first thing you'll need to work on is clearing your mind. It helps to close your eyes. I focus on my breath, but there are other ways – you can focus on the way the chair feels underneath you, or count, or perform a familiar, simple action – something you do all the time that you don't have to think about."

Mary wriggled the pack of Marlboros from Sirius's pocket. "Would smoking work?"

Dorcas shrugged. "Try it and see. I'll give you a minute, and then I'll peek inside each of your heads, just to see if you've managed to clear your minds. I promise I won't look through your thoughts, so don't panic if you feel me entering your mind."

Mary lit a cigarette and closed her eyes. The smell of the smoke and the taste of the tobacco enveloped her. She heard a bird call outside the window and the rustle of fabric as Sirius shifted in his seat, but she channeled all of her attention into the curl of her lips around the filter. As she blew out a long stream of smoke, she imagined her thoughts drifting out into the room, leaving her mind empty. She took another drag on her cigarette, relishing the moment of quiet tranquility.

She didn't notice Dorcas at first; the other woman slipped inside her mind like a warm breeze, barely stirring the edges of Mary's thoughts. Mary's fingers tensed on the cigarette as she imagined slamming a window shut, and Dorcas receded.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Dorcas direct her gaze at Sirius. His eyes were squeezed shut, and a cloud of cigarette smoke surrounded his face. Dorcas narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, then smiled and drew back.

"That'll do." Her soft, throaty voice was startling in the hushed room.

Sirius's eyes snapped open. He glanced sideways at Mary, curiosity etched across his features.

"Are you any good at it?"

Mary shrugged and glanced at Dorcas. "I dunno. Am I?"

Dorcas tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Your mind was very clear. If I had probed, I could have gotten past that initial defense very easily, but that's because I haven't taught you how to protect your mind yet. A less skilled Legilimens usually won't make it past the first line of defense anyway." She pursed her lips and studied Mary. "It's early to say for sure, but I think you might be a natural."

Mary stared at the burning tip of her cigarette as she turned this over in her head. She couldn't remember ever being told she was a natural at anything – particularly something Sirius struggled with. Her mind reeled as she reached sideways to stub out her cigarette in an ashtray on one of the dusty bookshelves.

"There you go, Macdonald." Sirius tipped back in his chair and flashed her a grin. "What about me? Rubbish, right?"

Dorcas smiled again, a reserved, hesitant smile.

"Your mind was not what I would call clear. I could sense you were trying, but you got distracted and ended up getting caught up in your thoughts. Like I said, I didn't pause to examine them, but I could tell you were, er, quite consumed by them." Her lips twitched, and Mary could sense she was repressing a laugh.

"You were thinking something absolutely filthy, weren't you?" Mary smirked and shook her head. "Poor Dorcas."

Sirius laughed, unabashed. "Sorry. It's the risk you run delving into my mind. I'll try again. Maybe it'll help if I'm not sitting so close to Macdonald." He slid onto the floor and scooted sideways, then lit another cigarette.

They tried again, with similar results. With each repetition, Mary's head began to throb, but she managed to keep her mind blank every time the warmth of Dorcas's magic breezed through. After the fourth or fifth attempt, Sirius scowled as he ground out his cigarette.

"I told you I'm rubbish at this," he snapped, heaving himself to his feet. "This is a waste of bloody time. If you want to know what I'm hoping to do with Macdonald later, or what I think about all of Moody's fucking protocols, or whatever else is bouncing around in my brain, I'll tell you. No need to penetrate my mind, or however you put it."

To her credit, Dorcas didn't flinch at Sirius's angry tone. She sighed and tugged the curtain closed to block out a beam of blinding afternoon sunlight.

"That'll do for now. I'm slated to work with you two and the rest of the new members tomorrow, in between the rest of your training, but Mary, I think I'd like to meet with you individually. We can move on to the next step, since you've mastered the concept of clearing your mind."

Mary's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. Yeah, alright."

"Keep practicing, though. Try emptying your mind as you fall asleep, or when you smoke a cigarette. It should become second nature to you, so you can do it with very little effort. Come on, I'll walk you out."

Mary and Sirius didn't speak as they left the cool interior of the old manor house and stepped into the balmy evening. The sun was setting, but the heat pressed down on their weary bodies. The protective spells around the house tickled Mary's skin as they stepped through and turned on the spot to Disapparate.

Lily and James weren't back from their first patrol duty yet; the flat was dark and silent when Mary and Sirius stepped through the door. Sirius kicked off his boots, leaving them scattered across the living room floor, and retreated to the balcony. Mary dug cold pizza and two beers from the refrigerator and levitated it out to the balcony, stepping over the boots on her way. They sat in plastic chairs, eating the pizza without plates and watching the remaining shoppers making their way along the street below. The cold beer fizzed on Mary's tongue, and she leaned her head back against the chair, content after a long, grueling day.

"I should've known you'd be good at Occlumency," Sirius said after he swallowed the last of his pizza and dusted crumbs from his lap. "You've always been good at closing off your mind when you don't want to think about things."

Mary took another sip of beer. She considered all the breakfasts Lily had spent hunched over the Daily Prophet and ranting about whatever atrocity had occurred or the latest inadequate response from the Minister for Magic. Mary had all but shoved her fingers in her ears, staring determinedly down at her bacon or rereading every Witch Weekly article until she tuned out Lily's voice.

"Is that a bad thing?" She blew a lock of hair out of her face and watched a bald man carrying two bulging shopping bags along the sidewalk below.

"Course not. I wish I could. I wish Evans could, too. It would save us a lot of heated political debates and broody silences and just general fucking existential angst, you know?" He reached over and touched her leg, his fingers damp from the condensation on his beer. "They'll probably want to train you and send you on special missions."

Mary tried to imagine what this would entail, but her thoughts were too tangled to think that far ahead. She sighed and rested her feet on the edge of the balcony.

"I suppose that'll be good, since I'm not great at dueling. At least I'll be useful somehow."

He frowned. "You're not bad at dueling. You've gotten a lot better. You're just…"

Mary grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Just not as good as you are?"

"I didn't say that." Sirius smirked and rested his feet beside hers. "If that's the conclusion you came to, well, that's not my fault."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Arrogant prat. Remember when Dorcas penetrated your mind and saw you thinking about how much you wanted to shag me?"

His laughter rang out, eliciting a confused glance from the bald man passing the bakery down the street. "What does she expect when she insists on using the word 'penetrate?' And what do you expect when you're wearing that?" He gestured at her tight t-shirt and shorts.

"It's hot out."

He draped his arm around her shoulders and leaned closer. "You'd be cooler if you took your clothes off."

She laughed, then drained the rest of her beer and stood up. "Come on." She took his hand and led him inside, leaving their clothing strewn across the floor along with Sirius's boots.

hr

"Where are we going?"

Sirius grinned and slid his hand into his pocket. His fingers closed around the stiff corners of the tickets.

"It's a fucking surprise, Macdonald. If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise. Just hurry up and get dressed."

She emerged from the bedroom, followed by a cloud of perfume and Sleekeazy's. "Surprises are pretty romantic, Black."

He scowled. "It's not romantic."

"Mmm, sounds romantic to me." She smirked as she bent to pull on her shoes.

"We're going to see David Bowie, alright? We'll be in a crowd of drunk, sweaty people. How is that romantic?"

She paused with her shoe halfway on her foot. "What? Are we really?"

He pulled the tickets from his pocket and waved them in the air. "Yeah. Well, if you ever finish getting ready. At this rate, he'll be finished playing by the time we get there."

She gaped at him for a moment, her eyes wide. "Black…"

"Don't make it a big thing, Macdonald. Just put your shoes on so we have time to smoke a joint before we go."

The marijuana had left Sirius feeling floaty and detached by the time they arrived at the venue. Music drifted out through the open doors as they joined the queue.

"Shit, he's started."

Mary tilted her head toward the door. "It's alright – it's only Warszawa. It'll take ages, and I don't mind missing it."

Mary studied the tickets, then took Sirius's hand. They jostled their way through the crowd until they found their seats. The next song was just beginning; Mary looked up at Sirius, beaming. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was already beginning to frizz. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her so happy.

"'Heroes,'" she said, raising her voice to be heard over the roar of the crowd and the thump of the instruments.

He nodded. "I love this one."

She guided his head down to kiss her, then released him and threw her head back to sing the chorus. He wrapped his arm around her and sang along, losing himself in the moment of shared joy.

She sang every song – closing her eyes and shouting the lyrics at the ceiling, leaning against him and crooning into his chest, even locking eyes with the man to their right and belting out "The Jean Genie" along with him. Sirius sang with her, savoring the squeal of the guitar in his ears and the thump of the bass that shook his whole body. He gazed at David Bowie in unabashed wonder, unable to fathom that he was really here, playing the songs he and Mary had spent hours listening to in Sirius's flat or in the boys' dormitory at Hogwarts.

But mostly he watched Mary. Palpable joy radiated from her huge smile and from the ends of her wild curls. Her movements were relaxed and fluid as she swung her hips and threw her hands into the air. She waited as each new song began, and a fresh wave of happiness overtook her when she recognized the opening notes of another favorite. When the band took a short break, Mary sat down in their forgotten seats and heaved a sigh.

"This is fucking amazing." She pulled Sirius toward her and kissed him, her hand tracing a lazy path along his back. "You're going to think I'm mad, but during 'Fame' I swear he looked right at me and waved."

Sirius laughed and flicked a bit of her hair out of his face. "How do you know he wasn't waving to me?"

She shook her head. "I dunno, I could just tell. It wasn't a very Sirius Black sort of wave, if you know what I mean."

"What exactly is a Sirius Black sort of wave, then?"

She hesitated for a moment, then flung her hand back and forth until her fingers collided with his forehead.

"It's a very obnoxious sort of wave," she said, slipping her hand into his pocket.

"That's a bit bold, Macdonald." He smirked and shifted closer to her.

"Oh, shut up. I'm looking for your flask."

"How do you know I have my flask?"

She moved her hand to his other pocket and emerged with the flask. "Because I know you." She unscrewed the top and took a sip, then handed it to him. The liquor burned his throat and warmed his chest, adding to the loose, lazy feeling. He passed the flask back to Mary and lit a cigarette, then pulled another one from the pack and offered it to her. They smoked in companionable silence as the noise and chatter washed over them.

"How come none of the others wanted to come?" Mary asked eventually.

Sirius flicked a bit of ash onto the floor and shrugged. "Probably because I didn't ask them."
"You didn't? Why not?"

"I dunno. It was last minute, and Prongs always gets the words wrong, and Evans would embarrass us if she tried to dance. I don't think Moony would like the crowds, and Pete…" His voice trailed off as he noticed the smug smile on her face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She shook her head. "No reason."

"I thought it would be fun if just the two of us went, alright? Now quit giving me that stupid bloody look and give me the second joint you have in your pocket."

Her laughter cut through the loud, drunken conversation taking place in the row behind them. "How do you know I have another joint in my pocket?"

He slipped his hand into her front pocket, smiling when his fingers brushed the edge of a joint. "Because I know you."

They had smoked most of the joint when the opening chords of "Five Years" started up. Mary gasped and dropped the joint onto the ground, where it lay smoking faintly, forgotten. She hopped to her feet and pulled Sirius up with her, closing her eyes and pressing her hand to her chest. Her expression was one of pure bliss as her lips moved along with the music. Sirius couldn't hear her over David Bowie's insistent singing and the cheers from the audience, but it didn't matter. Somehow he could feel the words pouring out of her, mingling with his own voice and the collective voice of the crowd. The music brought him back to a rainy night last summer when he and Mary had stood on the sofa in his flat, passing a bottle of Ogden's back and forth as they sang the entire Ziggy Stardust album. He closed his eyes and pulled her close, giving in to the experience that was incredibly intimate despite the press of people surrounding them.

When the song died away and melded into the beginning of "Soul Love," Mary laced her fingers through Sirius's. As a rule, they never held hands – Sirius considered it sentimental sod behavior – yet he didn't pull away. She looked at their clasped hands, her smile growing even wider, then stood on tiptoe to murmur in his ear.

"I love you." Her warm breath tickled his neck. He waited for the familiar tightening in his chest that always followed this declaration. The emotion thickened, choking him, so that it was a miracle if he could even force out the words to return the sentiment. But today he was light and free, and the words flew from his lips before he had time to feel their weighty significance.

"I love you, too."

She smiled up at him, the stage lights reflecting in her eyes and illuminating her frizzy hair, before she turned to face the stage again. Her voice reached Sirius through the din, and as he joined in to sing the rest of the song, he decided this was the happiest day of his life.

When the show ended, Sirius and Mary spilled toward the exit, exhilarated and hoarse from singing. As they pushed past a group of giggling girls, Sirius ground to a halt so fast that Mary almost walked straight into him.

"What're you doing? You were always telling people off at Hogwarts for blocking the corridor, and now you're–"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't look, but I think that's Brian May and Roger Taylor over there by the loo."

She frowned. "Who?"

"From fucking Queen!"

Her eyes widened. "Oh!" She craned her neck sideways to see past a tall man in a jean jacket. "Yeah, the one with the hair sort of like mine, and the one in black next to him? I think you're right." She took a step closer, but Sirius grabbed her wrist.

"Macdonald, I said not to bloody look. I don't want them to see us staring like idiots."

"But aren't you going to go talk to them?"

He put a hand out to stop her from taking another step forward. "No. They're just trying to enjoy their night. I'm not going to bother them. Besides, I'm wearing a fucking Queen t-shirt. I'll look ridiculous."

Her mouth fell open. "Are you nervous? Black, that's fucking adorable."

"I'm not–"

But she wasn't listening. She had ducked out of his grip and was wending her way through the crowd. He darted after her, then stopped again when he saw her tap Brian May on the shoulder. A blonde woman glared at him as she skirted around toward the exit, but his eyes were fixed on Mary.

"Oh, God," he muttered as she touched Roger Taylor's arm and toyed with a lock of Brian May's hair. She's playing with his fucking hair. He watched in horror as she leaned against Roger Taylor and giggled. Fucking hell, she's flirting with them like they're just two random blokes at the pub she's trying to pull, while I stand here hiding like a bloody idiot. Macdonald has more bollocks than I do.

He watched, frozen, as she pointed to him and beckoned him over. His eyes widened, and he gave a tiny shake of his head, but she continued to wave. Now the two musicians were waving at him too, wearing friendly, casual smiles. He felt his legs propelling him forward against his will. People had been in his way all night, yet now they all stood aside for him, allowing him a clear path. When he reached them, he had to forcefully close his mouth to keep from gaping like a lunatic. Keep it together. Keep it the fuck together.

"There you are. Brian, Roger, this is Sirius. He's a big fan – we're both big fans, actually. I sleep in a Queen t-shirt." She smirked and added, "Well, if I wear anything, that is."

Bloody fucking hell, Macdonald. Sirius extended his arm and shook both of their hands in turn, trying not to stare.

"Nice to meet you," May said. "How'd you like the show?"

Sirius was hardly aware of what he was saying, but the others were smiling and nodding, so it must have been semi-coherent.

"Your girlfriend said you got her these tickets," Taylor said, beaming at Mary.

"Yeah, I, er, thought she'd like it." The words sounded silly in his ears, but nobody else seemed to notice.

"Nice shirt, by the way." May pointed to Sirius's Queen shirt.

"Oh." Sirius gazed down at his t-shirt, absurdly self-conscious. "Yeah, she got this for me." He jerked his head in Mary's direction.

May gave an approving nod. "Sounds like she's a winner."

Sirius grinned, and some of the nervousness melted away. "Yeah, she's alright."

After they bid goodbye to the two Queen members, Sirius slipped his arm around Mary's waist. "You're mad, you know that? Completely bloody mad."

She glanced sideways at him and smirked. "Oh, shut up. I introduced you to a couple of people you were dying to meet. You look like you've just had the best day of your life."

A reluctant smile spread across my face. "I have."

She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Me too."

As they maneuvered toward the exit, a man stumbled into Mary, knocking her sideways. Sirius grabbed her arm to steady her while the man glared at them.

"Watch where you're going," the man spat before turning and striding off.

"Oi!" Sirius called, feeling his heartbeat speed up. "Fancy apologizing?"

"Don't." Mary put a warning hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off.

The man turned, nearly sending someone else toppling to the ground, and fixed Sirius with a disdainful look. "Fuck off."

Sirius didn't hear Mary's protests. Blood rushed in his ears as he pushed his way past curious people. He wasn't aware of his arm moving until he felt his fist colliding with the man's nose. There was a satisfying crunch and a spray of blood, followed by a sharp pain as the man retaliated. Blood ran down his split lip as he aimed another punch, but then strong arms were hauling him away.

The sound returned in a rush of shouting and swearing and nervous laughter. Sirius struggled against his captor, who smelled of stale beer and body odor, but he couldn't wriggle free.

"This fucker attacked me! He should be arrested," the rude man was insisting.

Suddenly, Sirius was free. Fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him toward the exit.

"Come on," Mary called, dodging through the crowd. "Before he calls the police."

Sirius grinned and followed her out into the evening air. People clustered around the entrance, smoking and waiting for their friends, but Mary and Sirius rushed past them. They darted down the sidewalk, hardly aware of where they were going, until Mary pulled him into an alley. They sank down onto the pavement, gasping for breath, and leaned against the building behind them.

"You're fucking mad, do you know that?" Mary pushed a damp strand of hair out of her face and shook her head. "Absolutely fucking mad."

Sirius shrugged. "He was being an arsehole."

She laughed and wiped a smear of blood from his lip. "Does this hurt?"

He probed the cut and winced. "It's not too bad. Not the worst injury I've gotten punching someone for you."

"For fuck's sake, Black. You've got to stop doing that."

He smirked. "Why? I know you like it."

Her lips curved up into a reluctant smile. "Do not." She leaned her head back against the building and sighed. "I can't believe we saw David Bowie tonight and you punched someone."

He dabbed at his lip and wiped the blood on his trousers. "You're focusing on the wrong thing, Macdonald. I can't believe we met fucking Brian May and Roger Taylor tonight. And you told them…" He threw his head back to laugh and hit the building. "Fuck. You told them you sleep in a Queen t-shirt when you wear anything at all."

"I did, didn't I?" She put her finger to his chin and tilted his head to face her. Her kiss was gentle against his cut lip. "I wanted you to meet them. I knew it would make your night."

Sirius replayed the brief conversation in his mind, hardly able to believe it had happened. "It was fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing."

She kissed him again, her hair tickling his chin. "Careful, Black. That sounds almost romantic."

"How can it be romantic? We're in an alley that smells like vomit, piss, and curry."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, you're not wrong. Should we go home, then? I think I might be sitting in the curry." A look of horror twisted her face. "At least, I hope it's just curry."

Sirius laughed and heaved himself to his feet, then helped Mary up and brushed off the back of her trousers. Before they Disapparated to the flat, he drank in the bliss on Mary's face leftover from the alcohol and marijuana and pure joy of the evening. He studied the flush of her cheeks and brightness of her eyes, hoping to fix it in his memory forever. Then he turned on the spot and Disapparated before she could accuse him of being romantic again.

"I'm not sure we should take the motorbike." Mary looked up at the dark, ominous clouds and frowned.

Sirius made a dismissive hand gesture and hopped onto the motorbike. "That's what the Impervius Charm is for. And if you get wet, your shirt will be see-through, which you'll never hear me complain about."

She rolled her eyes and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as they proceeded down Diagon Alley. The man who lived in the flat below theirs was ambling along the street and gave them a disapproving glare, but Mary waved as they passed. Rain hung heavy in the air; Mary could smell it in the wind that buffeted her face and tugged the pieces of hair that peeked from the helmet. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of freedom and trust even at this slow speed.

As they drew deeper into Muggle London, she opened her eyes and saw Sirius dart sideways to avoid a shiny Vauxhall. The driver leaned out of the window to shout at Sirius, but he drove on, unaffected by the man's admonishment.

"One of these days you're going to hit someone," Mary called over the roar of the engine.

Sirius's only response was to speed up and overtake a taxi, eliciting an indignant honk.

They drew to a stop outside of a dilapidated block of flats. Sirius put out his leg to steady the bike and pulled off his helmet, frowning at the cars parked in front of the building.

"You can park it across the street by the cafe," Mary suggested, but Sirius was already drawing his wand and scooting two cars apart until there was enough space for his motorbike to squeeze in. "I hope the nosy bitch who lives next door to my mum wasn't looking out the window. But I suppose you've already broken about five traffic laws – might as well throw in the Statute of Secrecy, too."

Sirius grinned and slid off the motorbike. "I don't have a license to drive this, so technically traffic laws don't apply to me."

She hopped down and removed her helmet, shaking her head to fluff her flattened curls. "I don't think that's–" she began, but her words were swallowed up as Sirius kissed her.

"Black," she murmured when he pulled away.

"What? I don't give a toss if Mrs. Whatsit upstairs was looking."

She adjusted the neckline of her shirt and giggled. "But what if Melanie was looking out the window?"

"Then she'll be jealous." Sirius leaned in to kiss her again, toying with the waistband of her trousers until she moaned and inclined toward her. He smirked, then pulled away and led the way up to the front door.

"Tease," she muttered, giving his shoulder a gentle shove as she followed.

The air was close and stank of cigarette smoke, but the bare lightbulb that lit the stairs was no longer burnt out – Sirius had performed a sneaky Reparo the last time they had been here. Rock music blasted from one of the flats; two doors down they heard the yip of a small dog. While they waited for Melanie to open the door, Mary touched Sirius's fingers – just the barest brush, a silent thank you for him, a bit of encouragement for her. Then Melanie opened the door, and Mary pulled her hand away and stepped into the flat.

In the weeks since Mary had last been here, the rubbish and grime had piled up again. Unopened mail and an overflowing ashtray covered the kitchen table; several empty takeaway boxes were piled beside the full rubbish bin; every surface boasted empty glasses, a sticky glaze of old gin covering the bottoms. Mary sighed and began Vanishing the worst of the rubbish.

"I cleaned!" Melanie insisted as she released Sirius from a lingering hug. "But that was last week, and I've been working extra shifts, and I suppose things have started to pile up…"

Sirius shifted aside a grease-stained pizza box and sat down at the kitchen table. "I don't mind. This is what my flat would look like if I didn't have Macdonald."

"Yes, she's very helpful, isn't she? Would you like a drink?" Melanie picked up a half-full bottle of gin, then opened a cabinet and frowned. "Damn, I don't have any clean glasses."

"Of course you don't." Mary gathered three glasses and gave them a thorough scrub, then set them dripping in front of Sirius.

"No need to be grumpy," Melanie said as she poured three generous measures of gin. "And don't you dare complain about the pine tree taste, or you can bring your own drinks."

Mary cleared off the chair beside Sirius and sat down, eying the gin with distaste. "We were going to bring some, but…"

Sirius laughed and smiled sheepishly. "It's alright, you can say it's my fault. I was meant to buy some beer, but I forgot. I guess it's about time we give gin another try." He picked up his glass and took a tentative sip. "Not bad."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Liar." She sipped her gin and grimaced before taking another sip. "The taste does improve as you get drunker. I suppose that's why you like it, Mum, because you're never sober enough to realize it tastes awful."

Melanie sat down and sighed. "You think you'd be a bit nicer to me, Mary. I gave birth to you, you know." She took a sip of her drink and looked at Sirius, her face creased with indignation. "Is she this mean to you?"

"Meaner," Sirius said, straightfaced.

"Rubbish." Mary took another sip of gin; the alcohol was already easing the tension that coming here always instilled. "What are you ordering for dinner, Mum? Italian or Chinese?"

"Neither."

"What, you're not planning to cook, are you?"

Melanie burst into laughter. "God, no. I'd poison you. No, I'm ordering pizza. I've been getting pizza quite a bit lately." She gestured at the empty pizza boxes scattered around the room. "The place down the road has a new delivery boy…"

"For fuck's sake, Mum, leave that poor boy alone."

"Don't be silly— I haven't done anything to him."

A loud buzz sounded, and Melanie smiled. "That'll be him. I hope you like pepperoni, Sirius. I wasn't sure…"

"He'll eat anything. I'll get it — if you make the delivery boy uncomfortable, he might stop delivering here." Mary started to rise, but Sirius sprang to his feet.

"Nah, I'll go."

Melanie searched through piles of mail and an apron reeking of coffee. "Hang on, I'll give you some money. Let me just find my purse…"

"No need." Sirius pulled a handful of money from his pocket. "I took out Muggle money for tonight."

"Oh, that's sweet, but you don't have to…"

But he was already striding across the room. Before the door clicked shut behind him, Melanie called, "Be sure to give him a good tip! Last time he told me he's saving for a better flat."

Mary swirled her drink around her glass and smiled wryly. "I'm surprised you haven't asked him to move in here."

"Oh, shut up. Besides, I doubt this is an upgrade from wherever he's living now." Melanie cast a dubious look around the cramped, dirty room. "It was nice of Sirius to pay for the pizza. He's sweet."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Not always."

"Well, who is? But still." She scanned the table until she located a pack of cigarettes underneath an unopened bill. "I sort of love him."

Melanie jammed a cigarette into her mouth and patted her pockets before searching the table and the worn pocketbook slung over her chair. Mary watched for a moment before giving in and lighting the cigarette with her wand.

"Yeah," she said, remembering the warmth of his fingertips against hers as they had stood outside the flat. "Me too." She sat in silence for a moment, glad Sirius wasn't here to witness her rare moment of sentimentality, then gestured at Melanie's packet of cigarettes. "Are you going to offer me one of those, or do I have to help myself?"

Sirius burst in a minute later, carrying a pizza and looking quite pleased with himself. "Don't worry, I gave him a nice tip, but I dunno what all the fuss is about, to be honest. I'm much better looking than he is, and he smells like pepperoni."

They ate the pizza without plates, washing it down with swigs of gin and wiping their greasy fingers on pieces of kitchen roll. When they finished, Melanie tossed back the rest of her drink and frowned.

"Do you have to rush off to do important wizard things, or can you stay a bit? I'd offer to turn on the television, but it's been acting up lately…"

Mary dropped her crumpled kitchen roll onto the empty pizza box and sighed. "Does that mean you haven't paid the bill?"

Melanie acted as though she hadn't heard. Fucking hell, she's good at pretending a problem just doesn't exist. I suppose that's where I get it from.

"I've got a deck of cards," Sirius said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a battered pack of Exploding Snap cards. "We could teach her Firecracker."

Melanie picked up the Exploding Snap cards and turned them over in her hands. "Is Firecracker as dangerous as it sounds?"

"Worse." Mary raised her eyebrows. "But can we play with only three people?"

Sirius was already clearing off the table. "Yeah, we can just be a bit flexible with the rules. You and Melanie can be a team – I'm confident enough in my skills that I don't mind being alone."

It had taken Mary months to fully grasp the complex and many-layered rules of the Marauder-created drinking game, but Melanie picked it up immediately. One of the main objectives of the game was to build and protect a tower of cards; when their tower collapsed with a billow of flames, Melanie's only reaction was to lift her glass of gin out of the way.

"Why are wizard drinking games so much better than regular ones?" she demanded after flicking a folded bit of paper at Sirius's card tower and forcing him to drink several long swallows.

By the end of the game, her luck had run out, and she was snoring with her head on the table and her elbow in a loose pile of cards. Mary nudged her, and Melanie mumbled something incomprehensible before tottering over to collapse onto the sofa. Mary sat watching her for a moment, an overwhelming sense of weariness washing over her, then heaved herself to her feet to clean up the mess.

"Should I levitate her to bed?" Sirius asked, peering into the dark living room.

Mary shook her head and Vanished the pizza box. "I doubt you're sober enough to do it without dropping her. Just throw a blanket over her."

Mary was starting on a sink full of dishes when Sirius came up behind her and put his hands on her waist. "Want me to help?"

She left the dishes to him and worked her way around the flat, scrubbing away the worst of the grime and Vanishing the accumulated rubbish. When she returned to the sink, Sirius was levitating the last of the clean dishes onto the drying rack. Mary grimaced as she noticed a greasy film still clinging to most of the glasses. She repressed the urge to rewash them – Melanie would be grateful for the help and likely wouldn't notice his subpar cleaning job.

"Let's go home." She leaned against him, craving the dark familiarity of their bedroom and the cool embrace of their sheets.

He slid an arm around her waist, his fingers still wet and soapy from the sink. "Do you trust me not to splinch us?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay to Apparate us?"

"Are you?"

She tilted her head sideways, realizing how loose and floaty she felt. "Definitely not."

Sirius hesitated, drumming his fingers against the side of his face, then nodded. "I think I'm fine. Guess we'll find out one way or another, won't we?"

"If you splinch us and I lose all my toes, would you still date me?"

He pulled away and gaped at her. "What?"

"If you splinch us and I lose my toes – if I just have, like, a smooth foot with no toes at all – would you still want to date me?" She giggled as she imagined her feet devoid of toes.

He continued to stare at her, baffled. "What?"

She started to repeat her question a third time, but he held up his hand.

"This is the stupidest fucking conversation I've ever had."

"Shut up. I've had a lot of gin."

He shook his head and took her arm. "Hang onto your toes."

Her laugh was swallowed up as the rundown flat disappeared and they were enveloped by a rush of sound and color.

Back at their own flat, Mary squeezed far too much toothpaste onto her toothbrush to clear the taste of gin from her mouth, then changed into one of Sirius's old t-shirts and slid into bed. She and Sirius lay with their arms wrapped around each other as a cool breeze blew through the window. Mary draped her leg over Sirius and nestled into his chest.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"For what?"

She traced the scar on his chest as she considered how to answer the question. "For going with me to my mum's, even though it puts me on edge and it's a complete fucking dump and she looks at you like she wants to rip your clothes off."

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her. "First of all, anyone who looks at me like they want to rip my clothes off is okay in my book. And I don't mind a mess – you saw my flat before you lived here. And what do I care if you're a bit on edge? I know how to help you relax."

He slipped his hands underneath her t-shirt and trailed his fingers up and down her back. She sighed and relaxed into his touch, letting the tension seep from her body.

"I want to pay Melanie's television bill," Sirius said, his breath warm against her skin.
"Oh, Black, you don't–"

"No, I want to." His voice was firm and insistent. "I'll go to Gringott's tomorrow to take more Muggle money out. Do you know where to send it to?"

"Yeah." She clung to him, imagining Melanie's delight and relief when the television flickered back to life. "Thanks, Black." She pressed her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne and the salty tang of his sweat. "I love you."

"Macdonald," he protested, giving a strand of her hair a gentle tug.

"I know, I know."

He fell silent, his fingers drifting lower and lower. Just as he reached her waist and slid across to her abdomen, he broke the silence.

"I love you too."

Mary sighed and pulled him closer, feeling relaxed and at ease despite a long evening at her mother's disaster of a flat.