Sirius collapsed onto the sofa, unlacing his boots and tossing them across the room one by one. Lily, James, and Mary were already asleep, but he enjoyed the satisfying thump too much to worry about making noise. Heaving a weary sigh, he lit a cigarette and leaned his head against the back of the sofa. The cigarette smoke filled the dim room as he exhaled the tension that had gathered throughout the long, tedious day.

When Sirius and his friends had decided to join the Order, none of them had known exactly what it would involve. Sirius had spent hours speculating about it during slow moments of class or as he lounged in the Gryffindor common room. He had expected to travel abroad with James, perhaps go undercover to infiltrate the inner workings of Death Eater society. He had imagined grand battles, emerging victorious and energized with only minor injuries. He had built up the experience in his mind, embellishing it and adding to his excitement to stave off the fear and dread, but it was all a bit dull, if he was honest with himself. He had sat through hours of training and endured Occlumency lessons with Dorcas when it was clear he had no talent for it, and today he and Gideon had been sent to Diagon Alley with a fucking shopping list.

"Yeah, shopping duty's not my favorite, but someone's got to do it," Gideon had said in response to Sirius's indignant scowl.

Sirius sighed and slouched down further onto the couch, stretching out his arm to drop the cigarette butt into an ashtray on the coffee table. After they had purchased everything on the list, including more potions ingredients than Sirius ever wanted to see in his life, they had spent hours trudging around London, casting protective spells over Muggle buildings. By the time they were finished, Sirius had blisters on his feet, and he was almost too exhausted to Apparate home.

A tapping at the window roused him from his stupor. Frowning, he flicked his wand to open the window and admit the unfamiliar brown owl. It fluttered over and dropped a crisp letter into his lap before soaring away with a soft rustle of feathers. The letter was addressed to Sirius Black in a formal, curling script. There was no return address.

He slit the envelope open and unfolded the thick, creamy parchment. After reading the first few sentences, his heart pounded and heat flooded his face. He tossed the letter aside, unable to read another word. Trying to fucking recruit me – do they think all it will take to make me switch sides is a bit of fancy stationary and flattery?

Against his wishes, his brother's grave, pale face flashed into his mind. Reg would love it if I joined. He wouldn't have to be so ashamed of his blood traitor ex-brother. Sirius imagined the embarrassment that must cloud Regulus's face whenever someone mentioned Sirius. He's dishonored the family name, Regulus would mutter in that solemn, formal manner of his. Of course, I no longer consider him a brother.

Sirius picked up the letter and twirled it idly between his fingers as he remembered all the times he had shielded Regulus from Walburga's wrath. Had he also dishonored the family name when he took Stinging Hexes intended for Regulus? When Walburga hurled some antique snuffbox or glass figurine that hit Sirius's chest and bounced off to shatter on the floor – was destroying one of the numerous family heirlooms a stain on the noble and most ancient house of Black?

Sorry to shame you yet again, Reg, but I won't be joining your little group of murdering bigots. He dropped the letter onto the table again and rose, heading for the bathroom. When he emerged and stepped toward the kitchen, intending to pour himself a drink, he spotted Lily standing beside the sofa, scanning the recruitment letter.

"Do you make a habit of reading all of my mail, or is today Nosy Meddling Bitch Day?"

She whirled, the letter slipping from her fingers as heat flooded her cheeks. "Shh, you'll wake up James and Mary," she hissed, putting a finger to her lips.

He increased his volume just to spite her. "You didn't answer my fucking question."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes, Sirius, I've just finished looking at your latest dirty magazine and needed something else to read."

"Give me that." His voice was low and tight, a warning thrumming through the syllables.

She held out the letter, and he strode across the room to snatch it from her fingers.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He pulled his wand from between the couch cushions and pressed the tip to the letter; the parchment began to smoke, then burst into flames.

"Do I look like I want to fucking talk about it?"

Lily jumped backwards as Sirius dropped the letter; it fluttered to the floor and burned down to a tiny pile of ash, leaving a black smudge on the rug.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know." She Vanished the ash, but the charred spot on the rug remained. "Plenty of people get those letters. They tried to recruit the Prewetts, and Marlene, and Edgar Bones, and I don't know who else. It just means – well, I suppose it's a sort of compliment. He wants your talent on his side."

He slumped down onto the couch and rested his feet on the coffee table. "I'm not flattered, Evans. I'm insulted anyone would think I would even consider joining. I'd rather fucking die than join them."

She sat down beside her and put a tentative hand on his arm. "I know that, Sirius. You don't have to justify yourself to me." She frowned, studying his face. "Why are you so angry about this? Is it to do with… with your brother?"

He shot her a scathing look out of the corner of his eye. "James is my only brother."

She sighed. "Padfoot…"

"What part of 'I don't want to talk about it' is difficult to understand?" He drummed his fingers against his thigh, wishing he could burn that letter a second time. "Keep your nose out of my mail and my business."

"I'm just saying, I'm here if you want to talk."

"And I'm just saying, I don't want to bloody talk. And don't mention this to Macdonald, either."

Lily's voice rose in indignation. "But you really should talk to her about what's bothering you, especially if you won't talk to me."

"This is the opposite of keeping your nose out of my business." He heaved himself to his feet. "I'm going to bed. Don't say a word to Macdonald about this – I mean it." Halfway to the bedroom he turned to smirk at her. "Oh, and if you'd like to peruse another dirty magazine, there's one stuffed between the sofa cushions. There are some great articles in there about… well, I dunno, but there are lots of tits. Careful, though – some of the pages might be a bit sticky."

He chuckled at her exclamation of disgust and slipped into his bedroom, still trying to banish Regulus's face from his mind.

Dorcas was cradling a steaming cup of tea when Mary joined her in the sitting room.

"Lily let me in," Mary explained, taking the seat across from Dorcas. "She's still cataloging all the potions ingredients. God, she's a nerd – she looks like a kid in a fucking candy shop."

Dorcas smiled and took a small sip of tea. "My husband was the same way. Brewing a batch of Polyjuice was his idea of a fun Sunday afternoon – that's why I have an entire potions room and three different cauldrons. I told Lily she's welcome to come use it any time she needs to brew something for the Order."

Mary twisted a curl around her finger, her chest aching. During her first week in the Order, Marlene had confided that Dorcas's husband had died several years ago. He was Muggle-born, Marlene had whispered, her expression grave. Big proponent of Muggle rights. He didn't make it home from work one night. They never found his body.

"Do you want some tea?"

Dorcas's voice startled Mary from her thoughts.

"Oh, no, that's alright. We can get started." She lit a cigarette; this had become her ritual since the first Occlumency lesson. With each long exhale, she breathed out a stream of thoughts along with smoke, until her mind was blissfully empty.

"I think I'm going to delve a bit deeper into your mind today," Dorcas said, her voice reaching Mary as though from a distance. "Build your defenses the same way, and I'll just probe a bit harder. Try not to fight me too hard, if you can help it. That often makes it easier to get past the defenses."

Mary nodded, then closed her eyes and imagined her mind as a cozy room. She traveled slowly around the room, securing each window and locking the door. Just as she reached the final window, she felt a gentle tapping against the glass. With a burst of effort, she slammed that window shut again, only to feel Dorcas's presence at another window. She darted around, securing each entrypoint, until she felt Dorcas recede. She leaned back against the imagined wall, heaving a relieved sigh.

Suddenly the door burst open and Mary's mind filled with a memory, one she hadn't allowed herself to entertain for months.

The late afternoon sun warmed the courtyard as Mary leaned against the wall, turning her face up to the sky. She had been sneaking glances out the window at the sunny grounds all day, and she was determined to enjoy a few minutes of the weather even if it made her late for Transfiguration. She ignored the warning bell and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth.

"Having fun?"

The unfamiliar voice startled her; her eyes flew open to find the Slytherin boy called Mulciber staring at her while his friend Avery lurked beside him.

"Come on." Mulciber's wand was pointed at her, and he wore a leering smile.

Mary opened her mouth to refuse, but a sense of delicious calm blanketed her, easing every worry and doubt. She turned her face up to Mulciber, eyes wide with expectation, and he nodded at the door to the castle. "Come on."

She followed Mulciber and Avery into the castle, jogging up a staircase and down a corridor until they reached a shortcut to the dungeons.

"In here," Mulciber grunted, and Mary obeyed, her mind blissfully detached.

"What are you going to do?" Avery muttered, climbing in after them and casting a nervous glance at Mary.

Mulciber smirked. "You'll see." He pointed his wand at Mary, then drew it through the air to point at Avery. "Undo his trousers."

Mary knelt in front of Avery, undoing his button and unzipping his flies as though she had done it every day of her life. She looked up into his face, taking in his expression of mingled embarrassment and excitement. In the back of her mind, something nagged at her. You shouldn't be doing this, the faint voice said, but of course she should. Mulciber had told her to, and Mulciber made the rules.

"Take his cock out," Mulciber ordered.

"Nick," Avery protested, gazing at Mulciber in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"What, don't you like it?" Mucliber surveyed Mary, frowning. "Is she wearing too much clothes?" He jabbed his wand at Mary. "Take off your shirt."

Mary undid her buttons and let the shirt fall to the floor. She stood in front of them in her plain black bra, the tops of her breasts spilling over the top.

"Why do the Mudbloods have the best tits?" Avery observed, gazing unabashed at her cleavage. "Can you have her take the bra off, too?"

Mulciber grinned and flicked his wand. Mary reached behind her and unclasped the bra, sending it tumbling to the floor.
 "Now suck him off." Mulciber's words were interrupted by laughter, but Mary got the message clear enough. She leaned closer to Avery and drew him out of his pants. Laughter echoed around her, and then she heard Avery clear his throat.

"This is too bloody weird – turn around, Nick."

Mulciber snorted with laughter and turned, but his concentration was broken. With a sick lurch, Mary realized what she was doing and drew back, horrified. She scrambled to her feet and cast around for her clothes.

"Shit!" Avery said, tucking himself back into his pants, his voice choked with panic. "Nick, she's making a run for it."

Before Mulciber had time to react, Mary darted from the passageway and sprinted down the corridor, stumbling as she forced her arms into her shirt and held it closed. Her heart pounded and her breath came in ragged gasps, but she didn't stop…

Mary's eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand touch her shoulder. Dorcas stood beside her, her face etched with concern. Something rolled down Mary's chin and landed in her lap; she reached up and realized she was crying.

"I'm sorry." Dorcas handed her a handkerchief, but Mary waved it away. "Do you need a minute?"

Mary nodded, blinking back more tears. Dorcas left the room, and Mary rested her head in her hands, fighting off the wave of nausea that always rose when she thought about the leer on Mulciber's face. She took several deep breaths, then lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. Her heartbeat had returned to normal when Dorcas came back, levitating a mug of tea.

"I know you declined earlier, but I thought it might help." Dorcas slid back into her seat as Mary took a grateful gulp of tea.

It scalded her tongue, but the hot liquid helped ground her in reality, driving away the remnants of the painful memory. She curled her fingers around the mug and alternated sips of tea and drags on her cigarette.

"Are you ready to talk about what happened?"

Mary's eyes widened in alarm, but Dorcas shook her head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean we have to talk about what happened in the memory. I meant what happened when I broke through your mental defenses."

"Oh." Mary set the mug down on the desk and dabbed at a spot of tea that had sloshed onto her trousers. "Alright, yeah."

Dorcas leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers together. "Your defenses are excellent. Clearing your mind comes easily to you now, and you have no trouble keeping me out when I don't probe too hard. But remember when I told you not to panic when you felt me dig deeper?"

"I panicked," Mary said, a sheepish expression creeping over her face.

"You did, a bit. Which is natural – it's a strange feeling, having someone poking around in your brain. But it allowed me a way in, because you let your defenses fall. That's to be expected for your first time going up against my full strength. I didn't intend to access the whole memory, only to peek at it to see if I could get to it, but your mind had other ideas."

Mary Vanished the smoking remains of her cigarette and frowned. "What do you mean? I didn't want you to access it, either."

"Well, the mind is funny sometimes."

Dorcas gazed down into her empty mug, her brows knitting together. Mary wrapped a strand of hair around her finger as the silent seconds stretched out. Finally, Dorcas looked up and straightened.

"Have you told anyone about that memory? Besides your head of house, or Dumbledore, – whoever you reported it to?"

Another memory flashed into her head.
Lily placed a hand on her arm, indignation blazing in her eyes. "You've got to report this. You can't let the arsehole get away with this – that's Dark Magic! And besides that, it's sexual assault."

Shame twisted Mary's stomach. "Technically nothing actually happened. Big deal, he saw my tits. He's not the only one who's seen them. I'm not reporting him – I don't want to give him the satisfaction."

Lily's eyes widened. "If you don't report it, I will."

"No." Mary's voice was louder, more insistent. "If I report him, he'll know how much it bothered me. It's the fucking power trip he likes – I can tell. I've been around men like that."

"But–"

"Don't say anything, Lily. I mean it." She glared at Lily, refusing to blink or look away. After a moment, Lily heaved a sigh and nodded.

"Yeah, alright. But if he does it again, I'm hexing his fucking cock off."

The wind rustled the curtains, bringing Mary back to the present. "I never reported it. I've only ever told Lily the whole story."

Dorcas pursed her lips. "I thought that might be the case. I understand why you wouldn't want to talk about it. It's a horrible thing that happened to you, and talking about it makes it hurt all over again. But the more you bury a memory, the more it wants to be released. It's like a Howler – you can only ignore it for so long before it explodes."

Mary considered all the hours she had spent forcing down that memory, burying it beneath the haze of marijuana smoke or the burn of firewhisky or a silly Witch Weekly article. She had mentioned the incident to Sirius twice, but only in vague terms. Even now, thinking about confessing all the shameful details made her stomach squirm.

"So, what are you saying?"

Dorcas's voice was calm and even, a stark contrast to the tension creeping back into Mary's body.

"Well, it makes you more susceptible to someone exploring your thoughts, so we need to do everything we can to avoid that. Accessing your most painful memories makes you vulnerable – they can use the information against you, and it makes it easier to access other memories because your emotions will be heightened, and that lowers your defenses. So you might want to consider talking to someone about it. It could be me–" She laughed at the look of horror that must have flashed across Mary's face. "It doesn't have to be me. But you should talk to someone, because this is important."

A fly buzzed through the air, landing on the handle of her mug before relocating to the curtains. Mary stared at its meandering path so she wouldn't have to think about how much she hated the idea of talking about the memory.

"I know it won't be easy." There was a warm, understanding note in Dorcas's voice. "But the Death Eaters have at least one skilled Legilimens, and of course Voldemort is excellent at Legilimency."

Mary raised her eyebrows. Only about half of the Order members used Voldemort's name – hearing Dorcas use it made Mary respect her even more.

"You know who you might want to talk to about it?"

A reluctant smile turned up the corners of Mary's lips. "Black? We don't really talk about our feelings."

Dorcas arched thin, wispy brows. "Well, maybe you could make an exception."

Mary sighed. "Yeah, maybe. Should we try again? Now that I know what it feels like, I'll try my best not to panic."

She took a deep breath and lit a cigarette, preparing to clear her mind once again. The image of Mulciber's smug, leering face appeared, but she exhaled it along with a stream of smoke.

Salt air tugged at Mary's curls as she turned her face up to the sun. Waves lapped at her feet, numbing her toes. A gull called overhead, mingling with the laughter and shouts issuing from the other end of the beach. Mary closed her eyes, savoring the solitary moment of happiness.

"Heads up!" James called.

Mary opened her eyes just in time to watch a Quaffle land at her feet. It spattered her with chilly water; she heard Sirius roaring with laughter behind her.

"It's my birthday," she called, turning to glare at him with her arms crossed over her chest. "You're supposed to be nice to me."

Sirius bounded over to her, splashing her legs. "Yeah, but it's me. If I'm too nice to you, you'll start to suspect it's some Death Eater impersonating me with Polyjuice."

"True." She waded into the water, flinching as it enveloped her body and raised goosebumps on her skin. "Hey, that reminds me, we're meant to pick a code word, to verify that it's the real us. Moody said so at the last meeting."

Sirius dove into the water and emerged with his hair plastered to his face. "Nipples," he said in a clear, decisive tone.

"What?" Her hands darted to her bikini top, but the charm keeping it in place was holding up fine.

Sirius threw back his head and laughed. "No, that should be our code word."

"You're an idiot. What if we get called to some battle, and afterwards we're with fucking Dumbledore or someone, and we have to verify our identities?"

Sirius bit his lip; Mary could see him trying to repress a laugh.

"What?"

He smirked. "Iden-titties?"

She burst into laughter and splashed him. "God, you're an idiot."

He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her into the water. She shrieked and flailed her arms before the cold water engulfed her. When she emerged, pushing strands of sopping hair out of her face, Sirius scooped her up and carried her to shore.

"What are you doing?"

He continued up the beach. "I thought you wanted special treatment because it's your birthday."

"That doesn't mean you have to carry me."

He grinned and tickled her waist. "Too late."

She slapped his hand away but didn't argue. The sand was hot, and it was nice to be carried.

He set her down on her towel to join the others. Lily and Peter were munching sandwiches while James tossed a Quaffle into the air and Remus read a book behind a flickering Shield Charm.

"I got hit with that Quaffle three times," Remus said when Mary shot him a questioning look.

"Did you pour the birthday drinks, Prongs?"

James pointed at a cooler behind him; on top stood six very full shot glasses. "I got a bit of sand in one of them, but I'll take that one."

Mary giggled and accepted the shot Sirius handed her. "Tequila? It's not even noon."

"It's your birthday." He handed around the rest of the shots before raising his own in the air. "To Mary Veraminta Macdonald. You're the best shag I've ever had, and, well, you're alright."

Mary laughed and flung her arm around him, sloshing some of her tequila onto the sand. "Wow. That's high praise, coming from you. You're alright, too, Black." She tossed back her shot, then turned her head to kiss him. The tequila burned her throat as she leaned into him, enjoying the press of his lips and the warmth of the sun.

They spent the day swimming, dodging the Quaffle, and finishing off the bottle of tequila. Mary and Peter built a sandcastle replica of Hogwarts, then cast a protective charm around it so James and Sirius couldn't destroy it with a wayward Quaffle. When the sun set, James conjured them a fire and they gathered around to roast sausages and marshmallows and drink the remaining beer in the cooler.

"Thanks for having a birthday today, Mary," Peter said, leaning forward to hold his marshmallow over the flames.

"I don't think I'm the right person to thank." Mary grinned and scooted closer to the fire. Now that the sun had set, she was chilly in only her skimpy bikini.

"Yeah, you should really direct your thanks to Melanie. You could write her a letter, Pete – thank her for pushing Macdonald out of her fanny on this particular day." He clapped Peter on the back, eliciting a gasp and a wince.

"He's sunburnt, you arsehole," Mary said.

Sirius shrugged. "Have you tried not being so bloody pale, Pete?" He heaved himself to his feet and strode across the beach, returning with his leather jacket and draping it over Mary's shoulders. "You looked cold," he said when Mary looked up, surprised.

She slipped her arms into the jacket and covered her legs with the edges of her towel, then waved away the marshmallow Peter offered her. "I'm not really a marshmallow person."

Peter frowned. "Really? You eat everything."

She threw back her head and laughed, her salt-laden hair slapping her bare back. "Peter Penelope Pettigrew, was that a fat joke?"

He choked on his sip of beer and shook his head. "No," he gasped, his face reddening. "I'd never–"

"I know, I'm only joking." She gestured at the marshmallow about to fall off his stick. "You might want to eat that. Or offer it to Lil – she looks hungry."

Peter snatched the marshmallow just before it pulled free from the stick and held it out to Lily. She grabbed it and stuffed it into her mouth, flashing him a sticky smile.

Mary leaned against Sirius and took a sip of beer. It was warm and contained a few grains of sand, but she gulped it down just the same. "Why were you thanking me for being born, by the way?"

Peter speared another marshmallow on the end of his stick and grinned. "Oh. I was just thinking, I was afraid we wouldn't get to do things like this anymore once we joined the Order. So I'm glad we all got together today for your birthday, that's all."

Remus slapped a spark that landed on his jumper. "I was thinking the same thing, actually. I miss this."

James raised his eyebrows and motioned for Peter to toss him a marshmallow from the bag. "The werewolves aren't much fun, then?"

Sirius leaned sideways to intercept the marshmallow, then rolled his eyes and offered it to James. "They're too busy werewolfing to have fun, I guess."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "You fucking arsehole. You know werewolfing isn't a word."

"See, that's exactly what someone would say if they've done a bit too much werewolfing lately."

Remus sighed and stood up. "I need a drink. You make my head hurt," he said, heading for the cooler.

Mary tilted her head sideways to look at Sirius. The tequila and beer had filled her with a relaxed, warm glow. "You're so obnoxious. You should really stop torturing him."

Sirius pushed a lock of tousled curls out of her face. "Rubbish. He's quite fond of me, and so are you."

She didn't argue, but instead leaned in to kiss him. His lips were sticky and tasted of marshmallows, but she didn't mind.

As the night wore on, Lily and James slipped away, and Remus and Peter fell asleep in front of the bonfire. Eventually, only Mary and Sirius remained awake, lounging by the fire as they finished off the last cans of beer. Mary shrugged off the leather jacket and rested her head on Sirius's chest, heaving a contented sigh.

"Did you have a good birthday?"

She traced the scar on his chest and lifted her face to kiss his cheek. "It was perfect."

He frowned. "Cheek kissing is a bit sentimental, don't you think?"
"It's my birthday. I'm allowed to be a bit sentimental." She pressed her lips to his ear and exhaled, enjoying the shiver that rippled through his body. "I love you," she whispered.

"Macdonald…"

She kissed the spot behind his ear, then trailed kisses down his neck and across his chest. "Don't argue. It's my birthday."

He didn't answer, grabbing her hand and draping the towel over his shoulder before leading her away from the fire. When he spread out the towel and pulled her on top of him, she saw his response in the brightness of his eyes, felt it in the brush of his fingertips across her bare back. I love you too, his body whispered as he pulled her close and held her on that damp, sandy towel with the dying fire in the distance and the lap of waves in the background.

Later he stretched out his arm and fumbled on the sand until he drew back and dropped her sandy, crumpled bikini top onto her chest.

"Ugh, it's all crusty from the salt," she complained.

Sirius plucked it from her grasp and tossed it back onto the sand. "Don't put it on, then. Do you fancy a swim? I'm a bit sweaty."

She grinned. "I know. You were sweating all over me at the end."

"Yes, well, it's hard work. I can just lay there and give a half-hearted thrust once in a while, if you prefer – I assume that's what Stebbins used to do." He got to his feet and shook sand from his hair.

"I'd rather if you didn't talk about my ex boyfriend's sexual habits on my birthday." She stood up and followed Sirius toward the ocean.

"I notice you're haven't told me I'm wrong, though." Sirius flashed her a cheeky grin before sprinting headlong into the water. She laughed and waded out to join him, dodging a spray of water he sent her way.

"The stars are nice tonight." He floated on his back and gazed up at the velvety sky studded with stars.

"Hmm, looking at the stars is a bit sentimental, don't you think?"

He flicked more water at her. "Shut up." He stood up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Water dripped from the ends of his hair onto her chest as they both looked up at the sky. Waves lapped at their bare skin, warmer than Mary would have expected. She thought of what Dorcas had urged her to do, and a confession formed on her lips. It wouldn't be as hard to tell Sirius now, when she was looking up at the twinkling stars instead of into his face. She could let the words spill out in one jumbled rush. He would clench his fists and call Mulciber all sorts of names, and then he would crush her against his chest and let her sob against his shoulder. She could already hear him murmuring to her in a soft, soothing tone. Hey. It's alright, Macdonald. Don't cry – it's your birthday.

"You ever done a handstand naked?"

His voice pierced the imagined scene, and before she had time to answer, his head was underwater and his legs were pointing straight in the air beside her. She giggled and shoved him until he toppled over with a splash and emerged, spluttering and laughing. They splashed each other until they gasped for breath, and then they returned to shore and sprawled out beside the glowing embers that were all that remained of their fire. Mary nestled close to Sirius and shoved all thoughts of her confession to the back of her mind. After all, it was her birthday, and there would be plenty of other opportunities to tell him. She ran her fingers through his tangled hair and closed her eyes, listening to the gentle lap of the waves and the light rustle of the wind in the trees.