The morning of the funeral, Sirius woke with a sick feeling of dread in his stomach. It had been bad enough seeing Lily slumped on the sofa for the past week, staring at the ceiling or paging through a book without absorbing a word. Watching her suffer through the funeral service surrounded by a church full of crying people made him want to reach for the Ogden's bottle even though it wasn't even eight in the morning.
When he wandered into the kitchen, he found James seated at the table, already dressed in the dark suit Sirius had helped him pick out at a Muggle clothing shop. Sirius poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down across from James.
"Is Evans up?" Sirius asked, glancing into the living room expecting to see her curled in her usual spot on the sofa.
"She's in the shower." A hopeful smile lifted James's lips, easing some of the heaviness that had settled over him in the past week. "She slept in the bed last night."
"It's about time. Why would she want to sleep on a lumpy sofa when she could sleep next to the third sexiest man in our friend group?"
James laughed, erasing more tension from his face. "I'm assuming you're putting yourself first – modest of you, by the way – but who's second?"
Sirius raised his eyebrows as he sipped his coffee. "Well, it's certainly not Pete." When James frowned, Sirius shrugged and made a helpless hand gesture. "Sorry — Moony has a better arse than you do."
"Well, that's not saying much. It's a miracle my trousers stay up, really." James grinned and ran his hand through his hair, but then his smile faltered. "I'm so worried about her, Pads."
Sirius nodded, feeling the heaviness settle back onto his shoulders. "Me too. But she'll be alright. Evans is tough, and she's got us."
He sat there for a moment, his words ringing in the silence, before he picked up his coffee mug and headed for the balcony to smoke.
When he crawled back into bed, Mary rolled over, a sleepy smile on her face.
"Why're you up so early?"
"Couldn't sleep." He pressed his cold hands to her bare back, grinning as she squealed in protest. "Evans didn't sleep on the couch last night."
"Thank god. I was getting worried." She sighed and draped her leg over his. "Well, I'm still worried, but that's progress at least. She'll need a decent night's sleep to get through today."
Guilt and sadness roiled in Sirius's stomach. His worry about Dark Magic mingled with his sorrow for Lily's loss and his feeling of helplessness at being unable to comfort her. Gritting his teeth, he pushed down the jumble of emotions, pasting on a wry smile so he wouldn't reveal the turmoil inside.
"I dunno if being well-rested is going to help much, but Prongs will get her through the funeral, and then we can get her drunk." He forced a laugh that hurt his chest. "It isn't much, but it's the only thing I can think to do, besides sitting around shooting her sympathetic looks and mumbling about how I don't know what to say."
Mary's smile was as brittle as his own. "I'm no better. I either say the wrong thing, or I say nothing at all…" She sighed and slid out of bed. "Maybe I'll offer to do her hair. It might take her mind off things."
While Mary dried and curled Lily's hair, Sirius showered, letting the hot water pound his skin in hopes it would wash away the darkness that clung to him. He stayed that way until his skin turned red and steam filled the bathroom, but even the scalding water couldn't banish the lingering doubts and heaviness. It weighed him down as he changed into his suit and gulped down some breakfast. He made another pot of coffee and guzzled another steaming mug, although it did nothing to stave off the antsy feeling buzzing through his limbs. He poured another two cups, dithering over Lily's preference for sugar before giving up and dumping in a hefty portion. A few drops spattered onto the floor as he carried them to Lily and James's bedroom. The door was open a crack, and he paused in the doorway, peeking through to watch Mary applying blush to Lily's cheeks.
"God, I don't know if I can face Petunia today," Lily said. "I just know she's going to say something horrible, and I don't have the patience."
"Black and I will handle her," Mary said, pursing her lips as she wiped a smudge of mascara from the corner of Lily's eye. "If she says anything remotely rude, I'll throw a drink at her."
Lily smiled. "But what if you don't have a drink?"
"Lil, Black always has a drink. Check his pockets if you don't believe me – that flask is always with him."
A soft laugh trickled from Lily's throat, but then her face crumpled. "I just… God, I don't know if I can do it."
"Hey." Mary wrapped her arms around Lily, strands of her hair spilling into Lily's face. "You can do this. And also, you're ruining your makeup."
Lily sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I'll just restrengthen the waterproof charm."
"What are you doing?"
Startled by the sound of James's voice, Sirius almost dropped the mugs of coffee.
"Just bringing coffee for Evans and Macdonald." Sirius frowned and held up the mug of coffee. "Does Evans take sugar?"
An icy wind tugged at their clothing as the six of them made their way into the church. Sirius felt the force of Petunia's disapproving glare, but he slipped a protective arm around Mary and glared back at Petunia and her neckless husband.
"She's making Lily give the eulogy," Mary whispered, her words masked by the creak of pews as the guests took their seats. "James is going to stand up there with her, but she's still so nervous. You know how she is with public speaking."
"We'll all stand up there with her," Sirius said, resting his hand on Mary's leg. "We'll get her through." He leaned over to murmur the plan in Remus's ear, cheered by the prospect of doing something to support Lily, even if it was a small, simple gesture.
Lily made it through the eulogy, and the sympathetic looks from other guests, and the trip to her parents' house to sort through their belongings. But when her eyes fell on her father's car and she ushered them all inside, some of the spark came alive behind her eyes. And when Sirius crammed into that backseat and stuck his head out the window so the icy air could buffet his face, his heart leaped and some of his worry was stripped away.
"You should let me drive, Evans," Sirius urged. "I bet this thing can go a lot faster."
"Not a chance." Her eyes met his in the rear view window, glazed with gratitude and repressed emotion. As the car sped forward and Mary shifted on his lap, he left his worry behind along with the disappearing streets.
Instead of returning to the flat, James directed Lily to the Potters' house.
"They've been dying to see you," he told her. "They're so worried about you." He left the rest of the sentence unfinished, but Sirius heard it in the silence before another song came on the radio. We're all worried about you.
Fleamont and Euphemia fussed over Lily, but Sirius headed straight for the liquor cabinet and herded Mary, Remus, and Peter into the living room with a bottle of Ogen's and a few glasses. They clustered in front of the fire, sipping their drinks as a weary silence settled over them. Sirius shifted restlessly, swinging his legs over the arm of his chair, slouching down, standing with his back to the fire, then finally settling on the floor with his head in Mary's lap. Her fingers traced a soothing path through his hair as he tried to banish the unpleasant thoughts that had been creeping through his mind all day. Coming here had made it even easier to imagine what it would be like to lose Fleamont and Euphemia. Would he spend a listless week on the sofa like Lily, then gather his strength and pull it together for the funeral? Not bloody likely, he thought, his lips twisting into a bitter grimace. More likely I'll be too drunk to stand up. He thought about Euphemia's warm arms encircling him after she had finished greeting Lily, and a sharp pain twisted in his chest. I'm falling apart. He watched a log shift in the fire, sending a few sparks into the air. I'm falling apart and I'm meant to be fighting a bloody war, but how am I supposed to do that when I can't even get my head straight?
"You okay?" Mary asked, peering down at him.
"I'd be okay if you kept playing with my hair," he said, butting his head against her hand and burying his thoughts with another gulp of firewhisky.
After dinner, Sirius dealt out a round of Exploding Snap to distract himself from his whirling thoughts. Euphemia and Lily had disappeared upstairs, but everyone else played, even Fleamont. Sirius refilled his glass before it was even properly empty, throwing down cards with more force than was necessary – anything to keep up the charade of normalcy. James was trying to convince Twinkletoes the house elf to play a round when Lily and Euphemia wandered in to join them.
"We need a snack break," Sirius announced when he saw the fresh tear tracks on Lily's cheeks. She needed a hug and soft words of comfort, but he was not the person to provide that. He stood up and headed for the kitchen, and everyone followed, leaving James and Lily alone by the fire.
"What are we in the mood for?" Fleamont said, peering into a cupboard. "There are some ginger newts, some crisps, cauldron cakes… It's a lot easier to keep the snack cupboard well-stocked when Sirius doesn't live here." He flashed Sirius a teasing smile and handed him a bag of crisps. "We do miss you, though."
Euphemia sat down beside Sirius at the kitchen table. "You haven't been by in weeks." Her tone was mild, but Sirius sensed the reproach underneath her placid smile.
"I know… Things with the Order have been mad."
As her eyes drifted to his glass, the reproach increased until Sirius took a defiant sip.
"I've been doing the bloody crossword, Mum, but sometimes the crossword isn't good enough."
His words were raw, full of a vulnerability he hadn't meant to reveal, and Mary glanced over at him, eyes wide. Before either of them had time to reply, James and Lily hurried into the kitchen, excitement emanating from their huge smiles.
"We've decided to move up the wedding," James said, draping his arm around Lily.
"It's going to be on the sixteenth," Lily added, glancing sideways to beam at James.
A haze of happiness surrounded them, erasing the worry that had settled in the clench of James's jaw and the dark circles under Lily's eyes. They were radiant and light and so in love that it hurt to look at them. Sirius sat there for a moment, draining his glass to rein in the inexplicable sense of loneliness and longing that threatened to consume him. Then he stood and hurried over to clap James and Lily on the back.
"Congratulations! I know you're doing this so you don't have to wait as long to hear my best man toast, and I don't blame you, honestly."
Mary breathed a sigh of relief as she shed her funeral dress and slid between the soft sheets. She was too exhausted to bother with clothes, even though Sirius kept a few old t-shirts and pairs of shorts in the dresser beside the window. When Sirius flicked out the lights and climbed in beside her, she pressed her feet against his warm body, smiling as he grumbled his usual protest.
"One of these days I'm going to charm a pair of socks for you. They'll always be warm, so you won't need to warm up your feet on me."
She chuckled and tucked her head against his shoulder. "That's sweet, Black, except only weirdos wear socks to bed."
Firewhisky laced his breath as his laughter stirred her hair. "I'm telling Moony you said that."
"He doesn't count. He'd probably wear shoes and a jacket to bed if it was socially acceptable." Her mind ran through the day's events, skittering over the more painful bits and settling on Lily's radiant smile when they had discussed wedding decorations.
"I can't believe Lily and James are getting married next month," she mused. "It's mad."
"They've always been mad. This doesn't give you much time to buy that low-cut bridesmaids dress, though."
She smiled and traced the scar on his chest. "I'll get on that."
"And spare no expense – you know Mum and Dad are paying."
A ripple of unease settled in her stomach – she had never gotten used to letting Sirius and James shoulder the brunt of the financial responsibility. Working for the Order full time left no time for paid work, so James's family money and Sirius's inheritance from his uncle paid for all of their expenses. Mary knew neither of them minded, yet she felt profoundly uncomfortable every time they handed her a handful of coins to pay for groceries or a takeaway. The thought of the Potters paying for yet another thing rankled.
"They're not paying," she insisted.
"Alright, you can go naked, I suppose." He slid his hand along her waist, and the light, teasing sensation made her forget some of her guilt. "I like you best naked, anyway."
She pressed her lips against his, sensing the tangle of emotions lurking beneath his casual, joking manner. As his hands roved over her body, pausing in her favorite spots, she sensed the distance between them lifting once again. She clung to him, enveloping him in her warmth, urging him with every kiss and sigh to open up to her. The emotions and secrets trembled beneath the surface, longing to be released, and for a moment when he moaned and shuddered against her, she felt his walls crumble. Gasping for breath, she stroked his damp hair and kissed his heaving chest.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she murmured, reaching for his hand in the dark. "This is all kind of a lot, and you've been a bit…"
He jerked his hand away. "Yes, I'm alright. Stop asking me."
His words pierced the blissful haze of their closeness. He felt suddenly far away, even though their naked bodies were still pressed together.
"I'm just worried about you. I want to help." Her words held a plaintive, whiny note, but she couldn't help it.
"You don't have to worry," he snapped. "And anyway, forcing me to talk about my feelings isn't going to help me. One of the things I've always liked about you is that you hate talking about your feelings as much as I do, and suddenly it's all you want to fucking talk about."
"So, what, you don't like me anymore?" The words sounded ridiculous even to her ears, but she couldn't put aside the rush of hurt and doubt his words had conveyed.
"Don't be fucking stupid, Macdonald. That's not what I said. Just quit fucking asking me if I'm okay, and we'll be fine. I'll be fine as long as I don't have to talk about my feelings."
She rolled away to face him, anger flooding her cheeks. "Well, maybe I do want to talk about my feelings. It's not the worst thing once in a while – we're fighting a bloody war, and our friend's parents have just been murdered, and we're drinking too much and sleeping too little, and I dunno, it's all a lot."
"You keep saying that." Impatience dripped from every syllable, and she could sense his face twisting into a sneer even in the dark. "What the fuck does that mean? Of course it's a lot, but this is what we signed up for. If you can't handle it, don't be in the Order – nobody's forcing you to stay."
The force of his words left Mary winded. "You think I can't handle being in the Order?" Unbidden, the night at that Knockturn Alley pub with Mulciber burst into her mind, and shame bubbled in her stomach.
"You're the one who said it's all too much!"
"So rather than trying to talk me through it, your solution is to tell me to leave the Order?" She threw back the covers and fumbled for her wand on the bedside table, blinking back the hot tears that stung her eyes.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Macdonald, don't be so dramatic. Alright, fine, let's talk about your bloody feelings. What's wrong?"
"Fuck you, Black."
She seized her wand and lit it, then stumbled to the dresser and rummaged for clothing. As she struggled into a t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, she waited to feel Sirius's hand on her shoulder and hear his voice pleading with her to come back to bed. But he remained under the covers, his face hidden in the darkness. When she left the room, stubbing her toe against the door as she went, she heard only a soft, defeated sigh and the squeak of the mattress as he rolled over.
The house was dark, but Mary's wand illuminated her path as she padded down the stairs. She paused when she reached the living room, heart pounding as she agonized over what to do. Her first instinct was to leave – Apparate back to the flat where she could cry herself to sleep without anyone hearing. But it would be horribly rude to leave without thanking the Potters, so instead she sighed and collapsed onto the sofa. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, and the cozy warmth soothed Mary's frazzled nerves as she rested her head in her hands and let the tears fall.
A few minutes passed before footsteps sounded behind her. Mary wiped her tears, expecting to see Sirius, but it was Euphemia, wrapped in a thick dressing gown and clutching a glass of water.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I couldn't sleep, and I–" She broke off when she noticed Mary's forlorn expression. "Are you alright?"
That's the question of the bloody evening, Mary thought bitterly.
"I'm…" She couldn't summon the energy to utter the word 'fine.' Instead, she sighed and leaned her head back against the sofa.
"Can I join you?"
Mary laughed, although it sounded more like a sob. "Of course you can. It's your house."
Euphemia settled in the armchair across from her and set down her water glass on the coffee table. For a minute, silence stretched out between them. Mary's shoulders slumped, sagging under the weight of her weariness and the row with Sirius and the endless day that still wasn't over.
"He can be quite difficult," Euphemia said mildly, peering at Mary over the top of her glasses.
The ghost of a smile lifted Mary's lips. She didn't need to ask who Euphemia was talking about.
"He's a right pain in the arse sometimes," Euphemia continued. "I love him – so do you – but he doesn't make it easy."
Mary twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "No he doesn't."
Euphemia chewed her lip, a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "Do you know why?"
A laugh burst from Mary's lips. "I mean, does anyone really know why? The workings of his mind are a damn mystery, even to him." The laughter faded from her face as she recalled her conversation with Peter. "But I think maybe it's because he thinks he's unloveable, so he's sort of waiting for everyone else to realize that."
Euphemia heaved a long sigh. "I think so, too. I've been working on changing his mind about that since he was just a kid, setting Bludgers loose in my house during the summers and begging to stay another day when it was time to go back home. I know it's not easy – if it was easy, he wouldn't be Sirius – but don't give up on him. I've never seen him so happy."
Mary shot her a dubious look. "You think he's happy, even now?"
Euphemia made a dismissive hand gesture. "When he's not making himself miserable, yes." She frowned, peering across the table at Mary. "Are you happy?"
Mary considered this, sinking deep inside her mind to examine her thoughts. She had spent so much time over the last few months worrying, overthinking, fixating on Sirius's mindset that she had spared little thought for her own feelings.
"No," she said honestly, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she spoke the words aloud. "But I was. And I could be again, if…" She left the rest of her sentence hang there, unfinished, uncertain and undefined.
Euphemia mulled this over, her lined face filling with an emotion Mary couldn't pinpoint. Then she stood up and stretched, crossing the floor to wrap Mary in a hug.
"You'll figure it out," she murmured, her bony fingers squeezing Mary's shoulders before she pulled away, a determined smile on her face. "I'm rooting for you."
Euphemia retreated to bed, leaving behind her half-empty glass of water and the echo of her words ringing in the silence.
The next morning, Sirius awoke as Mary was pulling on her clothes, her hair still damp from the shower. A half-formed apology hovered on her lips, but it fell away, unspoken, when Sirius crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her. She sensed his own unspoken apology in the caress of his fingers and the tightness of his arms around her, and longed to hear him speak it aloud, but she knew better than to push her luck. Instead, she relaxed into his embrace, savoring the moment of closeness.