Green spellfire flickered in Sirius's vision, even when he squeezed his eyes shut, even when he slipped into the dark stillness of the bedroom. He undressed and slid into bed beside Mary, staring at the ceiling until the edges of his panic receded.
The evening's mission was exactly what he had been longing for as he endured stakeouts and shopping duty and hours of helping Lily chop potions ingredients. It had started off innocuous enough when Sirius and James had been assigned to watch a Death Eater hideout, but things had veered off-course when they had followed two of the Death Eaters to a Knockturn Alley pub.
Fragmented bits of memory tumbled around Sirius's mind: the heat of the balmy evening as they huddled underneath the Invisibility Cloak, ears strained to catch the Death Eaters' conversation; the whisper of a human revealing spell hovering above their heads, rendering the Invisibility Cloak virtually useless; the crash of spells knocking over chairs and hitting the fence that enclosed the little beer garden; the bright green of the Killing Curse that had missed James by mere inches, and the bright green of his retaliatory Killing Curse that had missed Mulciber and shattered a pitcher of beer instead; Lily's surprised, indignant expression when he had casually mentioned the evening and then strolled off to bed like that green light wasn't burned into his brain.
He rolled onto his side, remembering the burst of power as the spell left his wand. Blinding rage had taken over, condensing into that blast of green light, but afterwards a ripple of warmth had spread through his body. He had felt a tantalizing energy, an unexplainable lightness, like the glow of alcohol or drugs without the fog clouding his mind. The pull of Dark Magic obliterated every thought except the consuming, powerful desire for more. Even now it called to him, trickling through his veins and making his fingers twitch.
Clenching his hands into fists, he thought about the Killing Curse whizzing past James's shoulder. His best friend's life had been inches from ending, but what terrified him the most was the intoxicating pull of the Dark Magic.
"Black?" Mary's voice was thick with sleep as she rolled over and reached for him. "You were supposed to wake me up."
He shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind and wrapped his arms around her. "I was just about to. I guess somebody's impatient." He reached underneath her t-shirt, trailing his fingers up her back, tracing every knob of her spine. Her smooth skin under his fingertips muted the whisper of the Dark Magic, and when he tugged down her pants and pulled her on top of him, he couldn't hear it at all.
Afterwards, Mary nestled against his chest and drifted to sleep. Sirius listened to her slow, rhythmic breathing as he stared up into the blackness. The warm tingle under his skin had ebbed away as the remnants of Dark Magic left his body, but the siren call of that irresistible power remained. He lay awake for most of the night, wishing he could forget how sweet that green light had felt when it had left his wand.
He stumbled through the next day, slugging strong coffee and jerking awake several times during his patrol duty. When he arrived at Dorcas's house to assist Lily with potions prep, he collapsed onto the workroom stool with a grateful sigh.
"That's my seat," Lily said, giving him a gentle nudge, but her brow furrowed when she peered at his face. "Are you alright? You look like you didn't sleep at all."
"I slept a bit." He heaved himself to his feet and Summoned a chair from the other room; it skidded across the floor and knocked over Lily's purse before coming to a halt beside him. "Shit."
She continued to stare as he knelt to retrieve the contents of her purse. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He tossed several Knuts and a tube of lipstick into the purse, then slumped back down into his chair and sighed. "I think you know the answer to that question, Evans."
"It's perfectly normal to be disturbed by what happened last night, Sirius. You saw James dodge a Killing Curse. You cast a Killing Curse. That's really–"
"In case my response wasn't clear, the answer is no, I really don't want to fucking talk about it." He reached for the knife she had left on the work table and began chopping dandelion roots.
She placed her hand on top of his until his knife stilled. "Stop. If I wanted poorly-chopped roots, I'd ask Remus to help me."
Sirius chuckled. "I'm telling him you said that."
"I'd say it right to his face." She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, even when he tried to pull away. "Let me hug you, you stubborn idiot."
He relaxed into her embrace with an exasperated sigh – it was pointless to resist Lily's hugs, and it relieved some of the weight dragging at him. When she released him, a comforting warmth lingered on his skin until the memory of last night's tempting power crept back.
"Did you at least talk to Mary about it?"
"No." He heaved a sigh and grabbed the knife again, concentrating on making neat, even cuts. "I don't need to. I'm fine."
"Sirius…"
He swallowed an irritated retort and attempted a smile. "Fine. I'll talk to her tonight. We'll have a nice bonding session and hold hands and stare into each other's eyes–"
"Don't be a prat. Are you actually going to talk to her?"
Of course I'm not. I'm going to repress my feelings and pour a drink because I'm not a soft, sentimental sod like you. "Yes. Now will you leave me alone so I can chop these roots, because if I don't do something with my hands, I'm going to fall asleep."
She narrowed her eyes and watched him for a moment, her eyes piercing his haze of exhaustion to the vulnerability within. Her lips twitched, and he was sure she was going to call him out on his lie, but instead she shrugged and rose from her seat. When she returned, she clutched a small vial in her hand.
"What's this?" Sirius asked when she handed him the vial.
"Wide-Eye Potion." She pointed to the handwritten label on the vial. "You could've answered that question yourself, you know. Don't take it all–"
He had already unstoppered it and gulped down the entire vial. "Do you just carry this around with you now? Does James know you're becoming such a potions fiend?"
She rolled her eyes and returned to crushing beetle eyes. "I'm not a potions fiend. Dorcas always sets some aside whenever I brew a batch for the Order, and she brings me a bit when I'm here brewing at night. Usually she'll bring me a cauldron cake, too – they were her husband's favorite potion-brewing snack. She's on duty tonight, but she left it out for me before she left – isn't that sweet?"
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Where's my cauldron cake, then?"
Lily chuckled and Summoned a plate bearing a cauldron cake. "Here you go, your highness."
Crumbs tumbled to the floor as he ate half the cake in one bite. He brushed bits of cake from his lap, then offered the remains of the cake to Lily. "Want some?" he asked, his mouth still full.
She eyed the cake and shook her head. "No, you have it. You're going to need all the help you can get staying awake, because I have a lot of ingredients for you to prep."
"Great." He sighed and pulled the next pile of roots toward him. "Now don't bother me about talking about my feelings for the rest of the night, or I'm going to 'accidentally' drop crumbs into your cauldron."
He set to work slicing roots, licking chocolate from his lips. As the potion trickled through his veins and propped his eyelids open, he tried to force back thoughts of the Killing Curse the same way the potion forced back his weariness. He never quite accomplished it, but if he concentrated on cutting perfect, identical slices of root, he could almost pretend that bright green light wasn't burned into his brain.
A Paul Simon record played softly as Lily lounged on the sofa, her feet resting on the coffee table while Mary painted her toenails a shade of bright scarlet.
"I'm worried about Sirius," Lily said. "He seems down lately, doesn't he?"
Mary scraped a bit of extra polish from the side of Lily's big toe and frowned. "Maybe." She wanted to admit that she had caught Sirius lying awake in the middle of the night more than once, that she knew he was sustaining himself on cigarettes, coffee, Wide-eye Potion, and firewhisky, but she couldn't put all of that on Lily, not when she was already overwhelmed with Order duty and worried about the increasingly bleak news reported in the Prophet.
"I know the skirmish in Knockturn Alley really got to him," Lily said, shifting her foot sideways and smearing some of the polish. "But I feel like there might be more to it."
Mary sighed, waving her wand to remove the smudged polish, but she froze when her brain registered Lily's words. "What skirmish in Knockturn Alley?"
Lily frowned. "What, he never told you?" Doubt clouded her face. "Well, if he didn't talk to you about it, I don't think I–"
"Lily." Mary sat down on the edge of the coffee table and met Lily's gaze. "You can't say something like that and not tell me. What happened?"
"Yeah, alright." Lily slid her legs down onto the floor and began recounting the story. When Lily described the green light shooting over James's shoulder and the retaliatory Killing Curse that had just missed Mulciber, Mary knocked over the open bottle of nail polish. Red splattered across the surface of the coffee table, but she paid it no mind as she gaped at Lily.
"What?"
Lily nodded, her face tight with worry. "James is still bothered by it – he hasn't mentioned it since that night, but I can tell." She flicked her wand to Vanish the spilled polish, then touched Mary's shoulder. "Sorry, I thought he would've told you. He promised me he was going to talk to you about it."
Mary ignored the hurt that pierced her chest at the thought of Sirius confiding in Lily rather than in her.
"It's alright. I'm sure he just didn't want to bother me." She righted the nail polish and began painting Lily's remaining bare toe. "Now don't move, because I'm not fixing this again."
Lily's expression didn't relax. "You're sure you're not upset?"
Emotion bubbled up in Mary's chest, but she forced it back and nodded. "I'm fine. Quit wiggling your toes, alright?"
In bed that night, Mary slipped her arms around Sirius and pressed her face to his chest. "You okay? You seem a bit…" She let the sentence trail off, the unspoken words echoing in the hushed darkness of the bedroom.
"I'm fucking great, Macdonald. Everything's fine and dandy. I'm a ray of bloody sunshine." His whole body sag as he sighed. "We're in the middle of a war, and I have to get up at the arse crack of dawn. Of course I seem a bit…"
She stroked his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp, but his usual satisfied sigh seemed hollow.
"You can talk to me, you know," she murmured, pressing her lips to his cheek. "I know we don't normally talk about our feelings, but we can make an exception. In the dark, it's not quite as sentimental."
"Do you want to talk about your feelings?" he muttered.
The shameful memory of Mulciber's leering face bubbled to the surface of her mind, and words formed on her lips. She opened her mouth to confess everything, but then she swallowed it back. How could she drag Sirius down with her problems from years past when he was dealing with such heaviness of his own? Rather than answer, she pressed her lips to his and pulled him closer.
She sensed a distance in his kisses, a detachment in his grip on her body. Even his moans and whispered demands were less emphatic. Mary felt a difference in herself, too. No matter how hard she tried to force away the thoughts, they crept back, infecting her mind and robbing her of joy. But if Sirius could tell her cries of pleasure weren't genuine, he didn't say a word. Maybe he's faking it, too, she mused as she drifted to sleep, nestled against his damp chest. Faking it in his own way.
Several days later, Mary returned home from her duty and found Sirius slumped on the sofa in a cloud of cigarette smoke.
"Come sit," he called, patting the cushion beside him.
"Hang on, let me just…"
Her voice trailed off when she saw the pile of dishes overflowing from the sink. Sighing, she pushed up her sleeves and Summoned the sponge; it soared from the bottom of the pile with a clatter of cutlery.
"What are you doing?"
She squirted soap onto the sponge and began washing a plate sticky with jam. "I was going to pour a drink, but there aren't any clean glasses."
"Yeah, I was going to wash those, but the sink was so full, I got overwhelmed."
She glared down at the mug she was washing as though it was the one neglecting the household chores. "It's fine. I'll do it."
She slipped into the familiar rhythm of washing dishes, and only looked up when she felt a warm touch on her shoulder. Sirius stood behind her, a teasing grin on his lips that she hadn't seen in days.
"Aren't you going to ask me how my day was before you start passive aggressively cleaning the kitchen?"
She dropped a fork into the sink, splashing her face with soapy water. "Why?" she snapped. "It's not like you'll bother telling me about it."
Hurt flickered across his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She turned to face him, wiping her hands on her trousers. "Lily told me about what happened with James in Knockturn Alley."
His hands tightened into fists. "The fuck did she do that for?"
"She assumed I already knew. I'm your girlfriend, Black. Why wouldn't you tell me you watched your best friend dodge a Killing Curse? Why wouldn't you tell me you cast a fucking Killing Curse yourself?"
"Because I didn't want to fucking talk about it." He took a step back, retreating into himself.
"It's a pretty big deal. You don't think it would have been good to at least mention it to me?"
He rolled his eyes. "Both curses missed, Macdonald. There was nothing to tell."
The dismissal in his tone grated on her nerves. He's being defensive, she reminded herself, trying to focus on a soap bubble floating through the air rather than on the irritating jut of Sirius's jaw. This is how he gets when he's scared or uncomfortable. She wrapped a curl around her finger, swallowing back the angry retort, but it bubbled up anyway.
"You told Lily about it."
He sighed and rolled his eyes again. "James was going to tell her about it anyway – what was I supposed to do? I made some smart comment about how dodging a Killing Curse was just an average Tuesday night, and then I went to bed and let Prongs deal with the fallout."
She crossed her arms. "I still think you should've told me."
"What, like you tell me every time something goes wrong during Order duty?"
A hot rush of indignance shot through her. "We're not talking about me." She felt a prickle of guilt when she remembered the memory she was still meant to tell him, but she pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time, especially when he was scowling in that infuriating Sirius Black way of his, surliness emanating from him in a dark, unfriendly cloud.
"I'm just saying," he continued, "if you're going to hound me about talking about my feelings every fucking day, you should have to do the same."
Heat flooded her face, and her hands began to shake. "I'm not hounding you every fucking day. I'm just saying, maybe let me know what's been going on once in a while, so I don't look like I'm in the dark about my own boyfriend's life."
He made an exasperated sound. "Don't be so fucking dramatic, Macdonald."
"I'm dramatic?"
"Right now you are. But alright, if you want me to tell you about my life, I got a recruitment letter from the Death Eaters the other day."
Another wave of anger crashed over her. "I suppose you told Lily about that, too?"
"No, I caught her reading my fucking mail, actually. And it wasn't a big deal to begin with, but I didn't want you to throw it back in my face if she mentioned it to you. So there – we're even. We're more than even, I'd say. Now will you leave me alone and stop bothering me to talk about things that don't fucking matter?"
He glared at her, and she could feel the pain and doubts swirling beneath his anger. Those emotions were bursting to be released, the same way her painful memory was knocking at the walls of her mind, begging to be let out. But even as she sensed him longing to confess everything, he took a step back, and the invisible walls went up around him, insulating him from her prying questions. She wanted to reach for him, to hold him until he sobbed against her shoulder and let it all spill out. But of course he wouldn't do that – she wasn't even sure if he could cry. Instead, she turned back to the sink and returned to washing the dishes.
"I'd say it does matter, because seeing your best friend almost die is pretty traumatic. Using Dark Magic is a pretty big deal. But if you don't think so, that's fine. I won't bother you about it anymore."
He started to speak, then heaved a sigh and shook his head. "What are you doing?"
"I'm doing the dishes so someone can have a drink without having to stop and wash a glass first." She set a clean glass in the drying rack with a clink, her eyes fixed on the sink.
"Well, guess I'll see you in bed." He strode away without waiting for her response.
She waited for his footsteps to fade, staring at soggy bits of toast floating in the water. After a moment, hot tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She stood there, leaning against the sink as her tears mingled with the dishwater. When her tears abated, she wiped her eyes and finished washing the dishes, stacking the places and glasses neatly on the drying rack. She admired the fruits of her labor, expecting the sense of calm and order that always accompanied the completion of a cleaning task, but it never came. Sighing, she trudged to bed and slipped under the covers beside Sirius, rolling over to face the wall. An aching, empty sadness weighed down on her in the darkness, and she sensed Sirius was full of the same emotions. Her hand inched over, brushing against his, but she pulled it back at the last moment. She fell asleep, wondering how to bridge the gap that was forming between them.
The next morning, Mary dressed and left for her duty without speaking to him. She and Dung were slated to take an exploratory trip to a few of the shops in Knockturn Alley to try and ferret out some information. Dung was known to frequent those establishments, but Mary was to go in disguise. When she gulped down the Polyjuice and peered into the mirror in Dorcas's living room, she gasped at her own reflection.
"Ugh, why are her teeth like this? And why's her skin all pouchy?"
Mundungus shrugged. "Potions abuse, I'd guess."
"Shit. I'll remember this next time I consider taking another dose of Wide-eye Potion." She traced a finger along her yellowed, rotten teeth and shuddered.
"Nah, it takes years for that kind of damage." Mundungus nodded at the door and lowered his voice. "You ready? I'm supposed to meet someone in a few minutes. Strictly speaking, it's not Order business, but…"
"But if I go along with it you'll make it worth my while? Yeah, I know the drill, Dung." She grinned and headed for the door, frowning as her knees made an odd clicking sound with each step.
The wards tickled Mary's skin as they stepped through the protective barrier and Apparated to the entrance of Knockturn Alley. Mundungus checked his watch, then set off down the street. It was a gray, dreary day, and Mary shivered in her leather jacket as she hurried along after him. She stepped around a puddle of spilled potion, her shoes crunching on broken glass, then maneuvered around a group of unfriendly-looking witches to step into a small, dingy bookshop. Dung nodded at the pale wizard behind the counter, then followed him wordlessly into the back room. Mary stayed behind, examining a dusty display of books on blood magic. She heard muttered haggling about the price, and then they emerged, Dung stuffing something into his pocket.
"Does your girlfriend need anything?" the pale wizard asked, narrowing his eyes as he took in Mary's Polyjuiced form.
"She's all set." Dung took Mary's arm and steered her out of the shop. "Don't mention–"
"–this to Dumbledore," Mary finished, grinning. "Yeah, I know, but you owe me a fat joint. Maybe two – I know you nicked a few Galleons out of my purse the other day."
He glanced sideways at her and grinned. "I was only borrowing that money. I fully intend to pay you back, once I offload some of this." He patted the lump in his pocket. "Come on. We'll have a look at Borgin and Burkes. I'll tell him I'm about to acquire some cursed candlesticks that I'll need to sell quietly because the way they came into my possession wasn't technically legal."
She raised her eyebrows. "Are you actually selling stolen cursed candlesticks?"
"I didn't say they were stolen."
"Right. I suppose you borrowed them, just like you borrowed that money from me." Mary chuckled and lit a cigarette, hoping the nicotine would relieve the heaviness weighing on her chest after last night's row with Sirius.
She replayed the conversation in her head as she leaned against the counter in Borgin and Burkes, listening to Dung describe the candlesticks that had been unknowingly borrowed from some unfortunate pureblood family. The guarded, close off expression on Sirius's face haunted her, consuming her attention so she could hardly focus on the conversation going on beside her.
Her preoccupation continued as they drifted through several other shops, scrounging for information and keeping their eyes peeled for interesting customers. She was so distracted that she almost didn't recognize the familiar man working at the potions shop until she and Dung were right in front of the counter.
"Can I help you?"
She dropped her purse; it hit the floor with a soft thump, sending a lipstick rolling behind the counter. Snape stooped to pick it up, holding it between his fingers gingerly as his lip curled into a sneer of distaste. As he handed it back, their fingers brushed, and his skin was cold and clammy. Mary shoved the lipstick back into her purse, disconcerted.
"I was wondering if you've got any…" Dung began, but Mary wasn't listening. She was imagining breathing out her thoughts in long streams of cigarette smoke. Once her mind was clear, she pictured Dorcas's sitting room, mentally closing and locking each window. There was something in those dark, beady eyes and the piercing quality of his gaze that she mistrusted. As his eyes drifted from Dung's face to hers, she felt a light brush against the walls of her mind, as though he was testing their strength, feeling for cracks or weaknesses.
"Did you know he worked there?" Mary muttered as they left the shop, Dung clutching a potion of dubious legality.
Dung shook his head. "Nah. Last time I was there it was that tall, bald bloke, or sometimes it's that witch with the long, pointy fingernails." He shuddered. "Anyway, he's your old friend from Hogwarts, yeah?"
Mary gave a wry laugh. "We were never friends. Most of our interactions involved me telling him to sod off." She lowered her voice and turned to Dung, her brow furrowed. "Did you feel…?"
"Yeah. He's sneaky, too – almost got in without me noticing. Evans wasn't joking about him being good at Legilimency." He checked his watch. "Want to go to the Leaky? We have a bit of time before our, er, appointment."
Mary laughed weakly at his word choice, but her mind was still back in that dingy potions shop. When she managed to shake the feeling of Snape creeping into her head, she was back to dwelling on her row with Sirius. The heaviness weighed down on her even as she sipped a pint.
"You alright?" Dung leaned his elbows on the table and peered at her, a slight frown on his face.
"I'm fine, why?"
He took a sip of beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before answering. "You're quiet, and you've left me to eat all the chips. Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not usually one of those girls who doesn't eat, know what I mean?"
Mary snorted with laughte. "That sounds like a fat joke, Dung."
"Bloody hell, didn't I say not to take it the wrong way?"
She sighed, plucking a chip from the plate and twirling it between her fingers. Grease and salt collected on her fingertips until she tossed the chip aside.
"I'm just a bit distracted, that's all."
Mundungus nodded and drained the rest of his pint. "Want to skive off early after we meet up with Dodgy Dave? We can go to my flat to smoke that joint I owe you."
She raised her eyebrows. "We're not supposed to be getting stoned during Order duty."
He shrugged. "We're not supposed to be drinking pints in the Leaky either, but here we are. It seems to be a slow day, anyway. It's not like we'll be missing anything."
She gulped down the rest of her beer, feeling some of her tension ease at the prospect of a joint in the near future. "Yeah, alright. But only if I can call him Dodgy Dave to his face."
Dung threw his head back and laughed. "That's Dodgy David to you."
When they stepped into Dung's flat an hour later, Mary's Polyjuice Potion was wearing off. A prickling sensation covered her scalp as her hair thickened and curled; her skin bubbled and roiled as her body filled out; her mouth filled with saliva as her rotten teeth became whole.
"God, I dunno if I'll ever get used to that." She shifted aside a blanket and sat down on the stained sofa, wrinkling her nose as her fingers touched a crusty spot.
"You will." Dung took the chair across from her and pushed aside the detritus littering the coffee table. "You can get used to just about anything."
Mary watched Mundungus roll a joint, mesmerized by the careful, deft movements of his fingers. She heard soft purring and looked over to see a fluffy white cat settling beside her. Smiling, she stroked the cat's head, then returned her gaze to Mundungus as he pinched the ends of the rolling paper together.
"Are you judging me for the dust on my bloody coffee table?" Mundungus rubbed his hand across the grimy surface in a futile attempt to clean it. "I swear I cleaned the other day…"
She grinned. "The other day – do you mean last year? I wasn't judging you, though. I consider your filthy flat to be part of your charm. No, I've just realized you don't use magic to roll joints."
Mundungus lit the joint and took the first hit, leaning back in his chair as the smoke filled his lungs.
"It's neater this way," he said, coughing slightly on the smoke as he exhaled. "I can never get it as tight as I want with magic."
"I agree. God, have you ever seen Black roll a joint? I don't recommend it, unless you want half the pot spilled on the ground." She put the joint to her lips and inhaled, closing her eyes as she imagined the smoke burning away her worries. For a moment, everything fell away – her frustration with Sirius, her dull, nagging dread about the war, the grimy flat. But it was all there waiting for her when she blew out the smoke and opened her eyes.
They smoked in silence until Dung dropped the remnants of the joint into a cracked ashtray. He made a low clicking sound with his tongue, and the cat leapt from the sofa and bounded over to curl up in his lap. Mary felt the familiar looseness in her tongue that sometimes accompanied a joint, and before she could stop herself, words were tumbling from her mouth.
"Black and I had a big row."
Mundungus looked at her through the cloud of smoke, his bloodshot eyes filling with uncharacteristic tenderness. His fingers ran slowly down the cat's back as he stretched out his legs and rested them on the coffee table. His foot knocked a magazine and a takeaway box to the floor; the gesture reminded her of Sirius and increased the ache in her chest.
"I thought you seemed off today," he said finally. "Was he being a shit?"
A reluctant smile lifted her lips. "A bit. But, I dunno, maybe I was too. We just don't really know how to talk about things. I'd rather bloody die than talk about my feelings, and Black is the same way."
Mundungus smiled wryly. "That makes three of us."
"I'm just worried about him. I know him – he handles things well on his own until he doesn't, and I can tell he's struggling, but I don't know how to help. And it doesn't help that we're out doing duty at all hours of the day. It's just… harder than I expected."
Mundungus nodded heavily. His hand stilled on the cat's fur until she butted her head against his fingers. "It is hard, trying to maintain a relationship during all of this. Or, so I've heard – can't say I can speak from experience."
Mary chuckled as she pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it. "Course not. I bet any woman who steps foot in here runs away screaming when she sees the stains on this sofa – and that's before she even gets to the bedroom."
"You've never seen my bedroom – it could be spotless for all you know." He shifted in his chair, eliciting an indignant look from the cat in his lap. "Ask Marlene, if you like. She didn't complain."
"Yes, well, Marlene's not exactly picky, is she?"
Mundungus scowled and held out his hand. "At least give me a bloody cigarette, if you're going to insult me in my own home. Go on – I'm out."
She rolled her eyes and held out the pack.
"I don't have any brilliant advice for you," he said, jamming the cigarette into his mouth and lighting it while he stroked the cat's thick fur with his other hand. "What the fuck do I know about any of this? But you'll figure it out. You're good together, and he's so fucking in love with you."
Mary laughed and tapped her cigarette against the side of the ashtray. "He didn't say that."
Dung's face took on a thoughtful expression as he blew out a long stream of smoke. "Nah, but I can just tell. It's the way he looks at you, you know?"
"Most of the time when he looks at me he's staring at my tits or my arse."
He shrugged. "Yeah, you're not wrong, but that's not what I mean. It's just sort of a look…" He screwed up his face, then made a helpless gesture when Mary narrowed her eyes. "Well, I dunno how to describe it. What do you want from me? I'm stoned."
Mary's laughter startled the cat; she jumped from Dung's lap and stalked out of the room.
"Thanks, Dung. That does sort of help, a bit." She got to her feet, suppressing the urge to perform a quick cleaning spell before she left. "I guess I'd better go try and talk to Black – or maybe I should skip the talking and just–"
She broke off when Dung let out a loud giggle.
"Fucking hell, grow up. You're what, forty?"
"Sod you, I'm not that old." It had grown dark in the room; he flicked his wand and lit the lamp on the rickety table beside him. "Good luck with Sirius. And, like you said, if talking doesn't work, taking your shirt off will probably do the trick."
"You're such a romantic." She started for the door, then turned and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Thanks for the joint, by the way. And sorry if I offended your cat."
The flat was dark when she stepped through the wards, the edges of magic tickling her skin. She found a note stuck to the refrigerator, scrawled in Lily's bouncy handwriting: Spending the night at the Potters'. See you tomorrow. Glad for the solitude, Mary cooked herself eggs on toast and paged listlessly through Witch Weekly as she ate. She was tucked under the duvet, finishing the magazine when she heard Sirius's footsteps.
"Hi." He tossed his clothes onto the floor and slid into bed beside her, his eyes sliding sideways to avoid her gaze. "Er, are we…?" He cleared his throat.
It wasn't an apology – it wasn't even a proper question – but Mary heard the emotion in his voice and saw vulnerability in his averted gaze. Some of the heaviness weighing on her lifted as she rolled over and wrapped her arms around him.
"Yeah," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair and breathing in the familiar scent of his skin.
He pressed his lips to hers and tugged down her tracksuit bottoms, his touch hurried and insistent. All the unspoken words that hung between them didn't seem to matter as Sirius trailed his fingers along her bare skin and exhaled hot breath onto her neck. For now, this was their talking, and for now, this was enough.