Mary rose early the next day and tiptoed out of the bedroom. When she returned from the shower, damp and flushed from the hot water, Sirius was still snoring. She watched him as she got dressed, sensing the distance between them even as he slept. Inching toward him, she bent to kiss his cheek, her fingers lingering on his bare shoulder. I love you, Black, she thought, savoring the warmth of his skin before she strode from the room and left the flat.
Dorcas was out in the greenhouse in the back garden when Mary arrived. She let herself in and sat down in her usual chair to wait; a few minutes later Dorcas wandered in carrying two mugs of tea. There was a smudge of earth on her trousers, and a tiny leaf nestled in her hair.
"Sorry." Dorcas smiled and handed Mary a steaming mug, then perched on the edge of the window seat. "I lost track of time. It's so peaceful out there."
Mary chuckled. "I wouldn't know. I spent most of Herbology trying to stop Black for putting twigs in my hair or throwing puffapods at me."
"That sounds like Sirius. How is he, by the way? How was your drunken night of fun?"
"Excellent. And we didn't even set anything on fire." Mary's smile didn't quite conceal the sadness that lingered after her fight with Sirius.
"Hmm." Dorcas frowned and took a sip of her tea. "Well, I spoke to Dumbledore last night, and he'd like you to try to fish for some information using Legilimency."
Mary choked on a mouthful of tea. "Really?"
Dorcas nodded. "I think you're ready. And I've been doing it too often with that group – I think they're starting to recognize me in their minds, so it's got to be you. You're going to gate crash Death Eater pub night — you'll take Polyjuice and go with Dung to be safe. You'll want to look for anything about hideout locations or upcoming plans, but…"
As Dorcas laid out the plan, Mary's heart fluttered in her chest. After the disastrous results of her Legilimency with Sirius, she dreaded the thought of trying again, but she had to try. Taking another sip of tea, she focused on absorbing Dorcas's instructions.
After her session with Dorcas, she met Dung at a Muggle pub not far from Diagon Alley. It was a dingy place, dim and sticky with last night's beer rings on the tables. Mary strode past the few patrons and took a booth near the back while Dung got them drinks. He said something to the bartender and laughed, then joined her at the booth carrying two pints.
"Bless her — she only charged me for one." Mundungus took a sip of his pint and heaved a contented sigh. "And last time I was here I broke a glass and forgot to pay for my last drink, but I reckon she forgave me on account of my charm."
Mary snorted into her pint. "Have you shagged her, then?" She shifted sideways to get a better view of the barmaid. It was difficult to see from this distance, but with her lined skin and graying hair, she looked at least ten years older than Dung. "She seems like your type."
Dung made a vague hand gesture and took a long swallow of beer. "Our friend should be here soon. I think you should take the lead, because, well, you are sort of his type."
Mary rolled her eyes. "I hope he's not expecting me to shag him so he'll join the Order."
Dung raised his eyebrows. "It wouldn't hurt…" He scowled when she kicked him under the table. "Alright, calm your tits. Anyway, we can buy him a drink and I'll introduce you, and then you start in on the recruitment talk." He frowned, running his thumb along the ginger scruff on his chin. "Don't let him fool you. He acts like a hardened criminal — well, alright, he is a hardened criminal, but I've known him since fucking Hogwarts. He's scared and looking for a way through, just like all of us, yeah?"
Mary's mind filled with the mixture of anger and fear on Sirius's face after she had pulled out of his mind. "Yeah, I can handle that."
Hours later, Mary had choked down a flask of Polyjuice Potion, and they were slipping through the entrance to Diagon Alley.
"I think Mark's going to join," Dung said, turning around to flash her a grin. "He liked you."
"Well, what's not to like?" Mary flicked a strand of hair out of her face, momentarily startled to see the mousy brown instead of her usual dark curls. "God, I'm not excited for this."
Mundungus's face darkened. "Better you than me. As far as I'm concerned, a person's mind isn't for anyone else to dig through. Now, a person's wallet, that's a different story."
Mary smiled, but it didn't assuage the prickle of doubt. "We'll get out of there if things go sideways?"
"Yeah, but try not to let things go sideways if I haven't finished my pint. I don't like wasting a drink."
The pub was crowded and carried the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Mary and Dung bought pints and made their way through the pub, scanning the tables until they spotted Mulciber, Avery, and Wilkes crowded into a booth. They sat down a few tables from the Death Eaters and sipped their pints, inclining toward the conversation and straining to make out their words.
"...the three of us haven't been out together in weeks," Wilkes was saying, a slight whiny note in his tone.
"We've been busy," Mulciber said, slouching down in his chair and stretching out his bulky form. "We've all been busy. But if you like, I can make a formal complaint at the next meeting? Suggest we reduce duties so you can have more time for the pub–"
Wilkes's eyes widened in alarm. "Fucking hell, that's not funny."
Avery shrugged. "I thought it was funny."
Mary stretched out a tentative stream of magic, brushing the edges of Avery's mind. The alcohol had lowered his defenses, and she sensed a wide crack that would be easy to slip into. Yet Mulciber's mind called to her. She shifted her magic, exploring his mental walls instead. He had more control of his thoughts – it made sense, given his penchant for the Imperius Curse, but he was drunker than Avery, and Mary found a spot to slip through. Concentrating with one half of her mind, she lit a cigarette and took a long drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs as she searched through Mulciber's thoughts.
His mind felt different from the neat, organized room where Dorcas kept her thoughts, or the cluttered space in Sirius's mind. Mulciber's mind was dank and dark, the walls covered in mildew. She sensed the lingering corruption of Dark Magic, an underlying sweet smell of rot and decay. Taking another drag on her cigarette, she exhaled her doubts along with the smoke and continued her perusal.
Exploring someone's thoughts wasn't the easy, straightforward process she had imagined it would be. Thoughts were flighty, elusive, flitting away before they could be properly examined. She had once thought the mind would be well-organized, divided into labeled sections that could be accessed at will. Instead, it was more like sifting through the contents of Sirius's school bag – the desired item was always buried underneath chocolate wrappers and broken quills, bits of biscuit crumbs and empty cigarette packets, sometimes one of Peter's socks or a chess piece or, once, a toothbrush. Half the time he wouldn't have the right book, or the notes on the chosen subject would be half-completed, turning instead to a game of tic-tac-toe or scrawled notes to Mary or an unflattering drawing of one of their classmates. Legilimency was a bit like that – unpredictable, imprecise, and often frustrating.
Recent memories were the easiest to access. Mary drifted through Mulciber's mind, taking care not to cause a noticeable ripple that would give her presence away. A thought floated up to her, and she let it wrap around her, enveloping her in its filmy vapor.
"Make her do cartwheels, Nick," Avery urged, nodding at the Muggle woman standing before them. She looked up at them with wide eyes and a glazed, vacant expression. "Or maybe a split – she looks quite flexible."
Mulciber rolled his eyes. "They're all flexible if you tell them they're flexible. Go and get the husband, will you? He's more of the cartwheeling type, I think."
Avery shrugged and slipped out of the room. Mulciber's lips twisted into a leer as he closed the door behind Avery. His eyes slithered over the Muggle woman, taking in her clinging shirt and the smooth, pale skin visible where her shirt had pulled free from her trousers.
"No, you're not the cartwheeling type, are you?" Mulciber stepped closer until he could hear her breathing and count the tiny freckles on her chest. Anticipation grew as he drew his wand and gave a tiny flick of his wrist. The woman's expression didn't change as she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, baring a silky white bra and a slightly pudgy stomach. He flicked his wand again, and she reached behind her back to unclasp the bra. It fell away, and Mulciber's mouth parted as he gazed at her full breasts.
Mary pulled out of his mind, chest heaving and hands shaking. She reached for her pint to steady herself, but slopped half of it onto the table. Get it together. Her breath came in frantic bursts, but she forced herself to take deep breaths until her heart stopped racing.
"You alright?" Dung's voice was a gruff murmur beside her ear.
She nodded, focusing on the chatter and clink of glasses. When some of the fury ebbed away, she pasted a smile on her face and took another sip of beer.
"I'm fine. Just can't find anything useful, that's all. I'll try again."
Mundungus eyed his empty glass. "Are things about to go sideways, d'you think? Because now would be a good time, but if we're in the clear, I'll get another. You look like you could use one, too."
"Yeah, get us another, that'd be good. Here, I'll get this round." She pressed a handful of coins into his hand, then cleared her mind and focused on sending out a thin, unobtrusive strand of magic. The magic found its way back to Mulciber's mind, although she had intended to switch to Avery. There was less resistance this time – her magic had widened the crack, and she found her way around the dingy mental room more easily. A gossamer strand of thought brushed against her; she tensed, bracing to see that horrible scene again. As she pulled away, the walls tightened around her, and then she found herself pushed out and plunged into her own mind. There were a few seconds of fumbling chaos, bright colors and flailing thoughts, and then she erected her own mental walls and shoved Mulciber out. Eyes wide, she reached out for Dung, but he was still up at the bar.
"What the fuck," Mulciber growled, his eyes roving around the room.
Mary scrambled to her feet and dodged around other patrons until she reached the bar.
"We've got to go," she hissed to Mulciber. "It's gone sideways."
"I've just–" Mundungus began, holding up his full pint, but he set it down on the bar when he saw her stricken face. "Right. Come on."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door and out into the brisk evening air. Thin ribbons of panic constricted her chest, and her thoughts were too muddled to decide where to go, but Dung acted for her, grabbing her arm and Disapparating them both away from Knockturn Alley. They landed in his rundown street, and after Dung lifted the wards, they stepped through into the dark interior of his flat.
The smell of cat and cigarette smoke mingled with something foul emanating from the rubbish bin, but Mary was too panicked to care. Dung put a firm hand on her back and steered her to the sofa, then disappeared again while she leaned her head back against the cushions. When he returned with a glass of water, she drank it in one gulp despite the smudged, cloudy glass.
"I fucked up," she choked out, setting the glass on the cardboard box that served as Dung's coffee table. "He knew I was in his mind. I left myself open for him to get in – I thought I had control, but I didn't."
Dung's bloodshot eyes were wide with alarm. "What did he see?"
Mary shook her head. "Nothing – I got him out too fast. But he could have…" She put her head in her hands and sighed. "I'm not cut out for Legilimency."
"Course you are, you just need more practice."
She shook her head again. "No. I don't want more practice. I don't want to do it at all. It's like you said – I shouldn't be pawing through someone else's mind. I don't like it in there – can you imagine what a creepy fucking place Mulciber's mind is?"
Mundungus raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were going to go for Avery or Wilkes?"
Her eyes slid sideways to examine a pull in the sofa fabric. "Yeah, well, I didn't. And I saw something that… Anyway, I fucked up, and now I've got to go and tell Dorcas that I've fucked up, and Dumbledore's not going to trust me to do another mission ever again."
Dung made a clicking sound with his tongue, and the cat trotted across the floor and sprang up to curl beside him. "Don't be stupid – do you know how many times I've fucked up? He won't really care. Besides, he can't afford to ban you from missions. He needs you too much – he needs all of us too much."
Mary wrapped a strand of hair around her finger and chewed her lip. "Well, still, I don't think I ought to do anything with Legilimency. I don't trust myself." She sighed and leaned over to stroke the cat's velvety fur. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have fallen to pieces. I had a fight with Black, and we're fine now, but I'm just… well, anyway, I'm sorry."
"Don't see what there is to be sorry about – except for making me waste a perfectly good pint, that is." He chuckled as the cat jumped down and wandered into the kitchen. "You can't pet her too much or she gets grumpy."
Mary rolled her eyes. "What a princess." She stood up and brushed a few cat hairs from her trousers. "I suppose I'd better go explain to Dorcas what happened."
Dung rose, too. "I'll do it. You go home, maybe talk to Black. I know your stance on talking things out – that's my stance, too, to be honest, but it seems like you two need it." He smirked and added, "That or a good shag. Either way, I hope you work it out. I like Black. I like you two together."
Mary didn't have the energy to reply. She nodded and headed for the door, catching a glimpse of the cat licking her paw irritably before she slipped out of the flat and Disapparated.
She paused in the doorway to her flat, gathering the courage to confess the memories she had been holding back for months. Her fingers clenched into fists as she swallowed back the fear and frustration and hitched a smile onto her face. When she opened the door, she heard voices from the living room and took a deep breath to steady herself before she strode in, grinning broadly.
"Dung told me the best joke earlier. Lily, you're going to love…" Her voice trailed off when she saw their stricken expressions. James sat beside Lily on the sofa, stroking her hair while Lily sobbed, and Sirius sat in the armchair, smoking and looking everywhere but at Lily.
"What's wrong?" She perched on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around Lily, expecting her to laugh and explain away her tears, except she didn't. Instead, James touched Mary's shoulder, his face wan and grave.
"There was an attack on the pub where her parents were. They…" His voice broke, but he didn't need to finish. Mary's stomach twisted with sorrow as she remembered the Evans's kind faces, the meals they used to prepare when she visited Lily during the summers, the lighthearted jokes they cracked as Lily's mum stole sips of her husband's beer. She left James to comfort Lily and instead sat on the arm of Sirius's chair.
"Come here," he murmured, pulling her down onto his lap. His arms snaked around her and they clung together, the distance of the previous night forgotten in the face of Lily's grief.
The rest of the night moved in fits and starts. Mary spent an eternity sprawled across Sirius's lap, listening to Lily sob onto James's shoulder. Then there was a flurry of activity as James rose to send word to the others, and soon after Peter arrived, closely followed by Remus. They rallied around Lily, pouring drinks and offering food and wrapping her in endless hugs. Mary struggled to follow a conversation that made her head whirl: Voldemort had tried to recruit both James and Lily, and the attack on Lily's parents was presumably retribution for her refusal. Floored by the enormity of the evening, Mary listened in a daze, hardly able to absorb the information.
By two in the morning, James had fallen asleep on the sofa and been levitated to bed, and Peter and Remus had both Flooed back to their cottage, so only Lily, Sirius, and Mary remained. Mary stifled a yawn and looked at Sirius, assessing his level of inebriation by the way he held his cigarette and the careless tilt of his glass.
"Go to bed, Black," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him when Lily disappeared off to the loo. "I'll stay up with her."
Sirius shook his head. "It's okay. You go to bed. I've got this." He frowned at the inch of firewhisky left in his glass. "I'm too drunk to go to bed now anyway."
Words hovered on her tongue, longing to be spoken, but she swallowed them and got to her feet. "Goodnight, Black." Her hand lingered on his shoulder for a moment, and then she turned and padded to the bedroom, weighed down by grief and regret and weariness. As she drifted to sleep, she wondered whether they would manage to bridge the distance between them that seemed to grow wider every day.
Sirius crept into bed early that morning. Mary rolled toward him, draping her leg over his and wrapping her arms around him.
"Is she okay?" she murmured, pressing her face against his chest.
"Not really." He brushed a strand of her hair out of his face, then trailed his fingers up and down her back. "She cried all over my shirt. I transformed into Padfoot and let her pet me – I dunno, I thought that might help. I dunno what the fuck to say – I never do."
Mary's throat thickened with emotion as she pictured Sirius curled up in dog form with Lily's tearstained face pressed against his thick fur.
"That's so bloody sweet, Black." I love you, she thought, but she couldn't bring herself to voice the words aloud, not after everything that had happened between them.
She showered and dressed well before she was due to report for duty, and she left for Dorcas's house after giving Lily a long hug goodbye. When she appeared on the stone walkway that led to the house, frost crunched under her feet. A roaring fire in the living room filled the house with a cozy warmth, and Mary exhaled some of her tension as she followed Dorcas to their usual spot in the sitting room. Mary sat down and twisted a curl around her finger, shame flushing her cheeks.
"So I guess Dung told you…" she began.
Dorcas's expression didn't change. "He mentioned it. What happened?"
Mary sighed, her mind whirling. How could she even begin to explain the dark recesses of Mulciber's mind, the leering smile on his face as the Muggle woman bared her breasts, the leap of terror as Mary and Dung rushed from the pub?
"I gave myself away," she said simply. "I'm not cut out for Legilimency. I don't want to do it anymore."
Dorcas's placid expression did not falter. "That's what Dung said. May I ask why?"
Mary sighed. "I… I saw something similar to the memory that you accidentally saw. It shook me up a bit – my emotions were heightened, and Mulciber pushed me out and got into my head." Speaking the words out loud made her stomach twist with shame. "I got him out before he could see anything, and I got out of there fast, but I don't think I should be trusted to do Legilimency again."
Dorcas tilted her head, chewing her lip. "Is that the only reason?"
"Well…" Mary heaved another sigh. "I used it on Black. I didn't even mean to, I just sort of slipped into his head, and he was… well, he was furious."
A flicker of surprise and amusement passed over Dorcas's face before her usual neutral expression slid back into place. "I should've told you, it's not advisable to use Legilimency on your significant other without their permission."
A sheepish smile crept over Mary's face. "I sort of worked that out, yeah."
Dorcas looked out the window; Mary followed her gaze and watched a few dry leaves flutter through the air to land on the sparse brown grass. "Have you talked to Sirius about that memory – the one we talked about months ago?"
The sheepish smile on Mary's face turned to a grimace. "I meant to, but…"
Dorcas smiled. "I think it's time."
"I've tried, but every time I try to talk about it, the words won't come."
"We can borrow Dumbledore's Pensieve, if you think that would help. You can extract the memories and have Sirius watch them, so you don't have to actually talk about it."
A wave of relief washed over Mary, and she slumped against her seat. "That would be great. Can I really do that? Dumbledore doesn't need it for, I dunno, important things?"
A soft chuckle burst from Dorcas's lips. "This is important, Mary. He's due to stop by tomorrow – I'll ask him to bring it then. Will you go into the kitchen and make us some tea while I write him a letter?"
Mary padded into Dorcas's neat, scrubbed kitchen, relief buoying her up. She was still frustrated and lost and incredibly tired, but at least she had the prospect of the Pensieve. At least she had a plan.
After her patrol, Mary returned to the flat to find Lily sprawled on the couch with a blanket tucked around her. A yellow labrador snored on the floor beside the sofa – Lily's parents' dog, Mary surmised. James and Sirius must have nipped out to Cokeworth to rescue him. Mary sat on the edge of the coffee table and gave the dog a light pet.
"Do you need anything?" she asked Lily, struggling to keep her tone light. "Something to eat or drink? Or I can take Duncan for a walk, although Black might get jealous that I'm showing attention to another dog."
Lily didn't smile. "I'm fine, thanks." She sighed and flopped back onto the sofa, closing her eyes. Duncan lifted his head, then hopped onto the sofa and settled in the empty space beside Lily's feet. Mary remained there for a few minutes before retreating to her room with a beer and a bag of crisps. She watched the clock, then realized Sirius wasn't due back for hours, so she Apparated to Peter's house instead.
"Hi," she said when Peter opened the door and ushered her in, amused. "Nobody's home except Lily, and she's asleep on the sofa, and I'm going fucking mad."
"Right, good thing I baked earlier." Peter disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying a chocolate cake. Grinning, he handed Mary a fork and sat down beside her in front of the fire. He set the cake down between them and gestured for her to take the first bite.
"You're not going to bother cutting us pieces?"
He shrugged. "It seems like a whole cake kind of day."
Mary laughed, then rubbed her eyes and sighed. "God, it is a whole cake kind of day." She speared a piece of cake and popped it into her mouth, savoring the rich chocolate cake topped by smooth buttercream icing. "Peter, I fucking love you."
His cheeks reddened as he took a bite. "It's nothing special – just a regular chocolate cake."
Mary took another bite. "Don't sell yourself short. It's bloody amazing, and it's exactly what I needed today. You're a gem, Peter Penelope Pettigrew, and don't let anybody tell you otherwise."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Peter took another forkful of cake, chewing and swallowing as he watched her, eyes narrowed. "Or would you rather just eat your feelings and pretend the problem doesn't exist?"
Mary laughed, spraying cake crumbs onto her trousers. "Fuck – sorry. Let me take a few more bites and see how I feel, alright?"
After a few more bites of cake, Mary sighed and shifted around to warm her back by the fire. "I'm still fighting with Black. Well, I mean, we've made up, but I was meant to talk to him about... something, but then Lily's parents died and it all went to hell, and I'm afraid…" Tears pricked her eyes, and she forced them back with a huge mouthful of cake.
"You'll figure it out." Peter looked down at the cake and chuckled. "Bloody hell, we've already eaten half of this."
"We're only half done, then. Maybe I'll feel better after we've eaten the whole thing." She took another large bite.
"You'll figure it out, you know," Peter said, repressing a laugh as she wiped frosting from her nose. "You're good together. Padfoot is so in love with you – he doesn't like to say so, obviously, but it's so obvious." He reached over and touched her shoulder, his touch light but laced with affection. "And he's lucky to have you."
The bite of cake caught in Mary's throat. She swallowed, then shifted the cake out of the way and wrapped her arms around Peter. "Thanks. And sorry I'm such a mess." She pulled away and sighed. "I feel like all I've been doing lately is having emotional breakdowns and forcing whoever is around to comfort me. I had a fucking heart to heart with Dung the other day."
Peter grinned. "I love that you two are friends."
"It's a strange friendship, but he sort of grows on you. He never serves me homemade baked goods, though." She reached for another bite of cake.
Peter's brow furrowed. "Well, I wouldn't trust anything he baked, to be honest. I don't think I've ever seen him wash his hands."
They worked their way through the cake, their lighthearted conversation interspersed with the occasional emotional outburst from Mary. By the time only smears of frosting remained on the plate, Mary had worked up the nerve to confess the thought lurking at the back of her mind.
"I don't think Black trusts me." She had hoped speaking the words aloud would remove the weight in the pit of her stomach, but she felt it more than ever. "He's keeping so much to himself, and I know he's just like that, but we've been together since sixth year. I thought he'd be able to talk to me by now." She wrapped a curl around her finger, realizing too late that she was smearing frosting into her hair. "What if he's realized he doesn't want to be with me anymore, but he doesn't know how to tell me?"
Peter looked at her for a long time, his blue eyes full of an emotion she couldn't quite pinpoint. When she started thinking he wasn't going to answer, he heaved a huge sigh and frowned.
"I don't think what Sirius is going through has anything to do with you. I think it's a purely Sirius Black problem. It's not that he doesn't trust you – it's that he thinks you won't love him anymore if he tells you whatever it is that's bothering him." His voice was heavy with resignation and sadness.
"God, that's so bloody sad." Mary turned sideways to watch the flames, imagining Sirius agonizing over whether his problems would change her feelings about him. "Why would he think that?"
Peter shrugged. "He's like that. I suppose it's because that's how his family is – he was sorted into Gryffindor, and they sort of gave up on him."
Mary had a sudden urge to track Sirius down and wrap him in a hug. "That makes so much sense. You're so smart, Peter."
An incredulous laugh burst from his lips. "I think that's the first time anyone's ever said that to me. I'm not smart – I pay attention, that's all."
She raised her eyebrows. "You're smart – don't argue. Anyway, how do I convince him that I'm not going to change my mind?"
"Just keep doing what you're doing. Eventually it'll get through to him." He gestured at the crumbs and frosting covering the plate. "Go ahead and lick the frosting off."
A sheepish smile tugged at her lips. "Is it bad that I'm actually considering it?"
He slid the plate toward her. "No — why do you think I suggested it? It might make you feel better."
She eyed the plate, then laughed and lifted it to her face. When she had licked it clean, she set it down and noticed a glob of frosting sticking to her hair.
"God, I am a disgusting excuse for a human being, and I've lost all dignity and self-respect."
Peter burst into laughter. "I dunno, I'd say you accomplished what you set out to do. You wanted to sit here and eat your feelings, and you have a lot of feelings these days."
She cleaned the frosting from her hair. "Well, thanks for not making me eat my feelings alone. It's more pathetic when you're alone."
"You never have to eat your feelings alone. We're like a club — the eat your feelings club."
She smiled. "I love that. Did I get all the frosting off?" She patted her hair, which was now stiff and sticky.
His lips twitched as his eyes flickered over her face. "Er, yeah. You got it."
She shifted sideways and flopped onto her back. "Well, I'm going to lay here and regret my life choices for a minute. Feel free to join me."
When she returned to the flat, James was stretched out on the sofa beside Lily, rubbing slow circles on her back. A plate of toast and a mug of tea sat on the coffee table, both untouched. Mary caught James's eye and shot him a questioning look; he gave a helpless shrug and kissed the top of Lily's head. Aching with sadness, Mary retreated to the bedroom.
"Hey." Sirius was sprawled on the bed wearing only pants. "I just got back. How's Pete?"
Mary smiled, a sad, weary smile. "He's fine. We ate an entire fucking cake."
"Course you did." She sat down beside him, and he ran his thumb along her cheek. "Is that frosting?"
Before she had time to respond, he leaned in and licked the frosting from her face. She giggled, and for a moment they were as they used to be, without any distance between them.
"Black…"
He flopped down onto the mattress. "Hmm?"
"If you want to…" She bit her lip. "If you want to talk about how you feel—"
"What the fuck, Macdonald," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "None of this sentimental bull shit."
"But…"
"No buts. Now, if you want to talk about how good I am in bed, that's a different story. Otherwise, don't talk."
She laughed. "You're so romantic, Black."
"Yeah, well, I never claimed that was one of my strong points."
He slid his hand along her back and kissed her, ending the conversation. Mary pressed herself closer to him, wishing it was that easy to bridge the invisible distance between them.