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Half of 2023 gone already, huh? Pour me a drink. Thanks for sticking around!

Chapter Eighteen

I Have an Intervention

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

I cracked open my eyes, forcing my eyelashes apart where my mascara from the night before had glued them together. Sirius sat on the edge of my bed – no, wait, his bed – smiling like a cookie-cutter mother who had just finished making pancakes for her children.

"You're not a prince," I said stupidly, and he grinned.

"Correct," he said. "I am a god, and you should address me as such."

I addressed him by shoving my middle finger in his face.

He chuckled, brushing my finger aside. "So, how'd you sleep?"

Horribly, is what I wanted to say. I'd cried for a solid twenty minutes before passing out cold, the alcohol and the depression finally catching up to me, and my dreams had been plagued by images of Remus and Marlene passionately snogging. I'd hoped that that was all it was – a dream – but waking up in Sirius's bed was only confirmation that everything that had happened had been dreadfully real.

"Fine," I said instead, but I knew from the way he looked at me that he knew I was lying. "You got any water around here? I'm fucking thirsty."

"You're dehydrated," he said, standing up and going over to the pitcher of water on the other side of the room and pouring me a glass.

"And you're not hungover," I noted as he handed me the glass. "How the hell did you manage that? We were shot-for-shot on the firewhiskey."

"I sobered up before I went to bed," he said, shrugging, and it disgusted me how unruffled and cool he was after the disaster of last night as I ran my fingers over his duvet.

Now that I was awake and functioning, every memory from the night before was creeping up on me, and I wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over my head and remain there for the rest of the century. It didn't help that Sirius was watching me with a knowing twinkle in his eye, as well, and heat rose to my face when I flashed back to how those eyes had looked when he'd been about to bury his face in between my legs. I took a hasty gulp of water, tugging on the collar of his shirt I wore, and he smirked as if sensing my thoughts.

"Where are the others?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral, but all I really wanted was to know where Remus was, so I could slap some sense into the bloke. I mean, really? Marlene McKinnon? Granted, she'd only done it to get back at Sirius, but still. She chose the wrong rebound.

"Passed out in the common room still," he said, shrugging. "I let Prongs and Moony be, but I couldn't resist drawing a pecker on Wormtail's face. Don't tell him it was me, though."

I cracked a smile at that. "Where'd you sleep, then?" He grinned, waggling his eyebrows, and I gaped at him. "Hold on – are you saying that you slept with someone? After—" I shut my mouth, not wanting to bring up our previous activities, and I'd never seen someone look so gloating before as he positively beamed at me.

"You should be thanking me," he said. "I shagged Marlene to keep her away from Remus, and so you wouldn't rip her head off. She's insane, that one, but I'd like her to remain in one piece."

I stared, unblinking. "You did that? For me?"

He shrugged indifferently, but he looked uncomfortable when he glanced away. "What can I say? I'm a fan of drama, but even last night was too much for me."

"Sirius…" I trailed off. For years, he'd hated my guts, and now he was helping me? Our relationship had evolved so much it was giving me whiplash, but suddenly I was entirely grateful for Sirius Black.

"Thank you," I said earnestly. "But, Sirius… I don't want you to get tangled back up with Marlene just for my sake. If she doesn't make you happy, then you shouldn't stay with her."

He scratched the back of his neck, his expression awkward, and I bit my lip, tapping my fingernail against the glass I still held.

"Love should make you feel good," I continued. I had no idea what compelled me to speak, but the words kept coming out. "It shouldn't be a chore, or forced. And maybe Marlene was good for a fun couple of hook-ups, but it sounds like she's not good for you and how much you love."

I stopped, embarrassed. It seemed like all I ever did around Sirius anymore was ramble and make a fool out of myself, but when he sighed deeply, I looked up from my observation of the duvet.

"You're right," he said, frowning. "I like Marlene, but I don't…love her. At least not in that way." He raised a brow at me. "Any more wisdom from Witch Weekly's advice column?"

"Piss off," I said, though I couldn't help laughing.

He jerked his head toward the door. "I'm gonna start cleaning up down there. Place is a mess. I'll be up in a few, though; I think we still got some firewhiskey I can store."

I nodded, waving as he exited the dormitory. I drained the rest of my water and went to fill up my glass again, parched. I was still wearing nothing but Sirius's shirt, and downstairs was a bit breezy. I kicked open his trunk and rifled through it until I found a pair of (hopefully) clean boxers and put them on. The waistline was huge, and I had to roll them a few times to get them to fit, but I was impressed with my ingenuity as I heard the door open behind me. Thinking it was Sirius, I twirled to show him my new look, but I froze, my smile crumbling when I saw Remus, bleary-eyed and disheveled, standing there instead.

"Piper?" he mumbled, squinting at me through bloodshot eyes. "What are you doing here?"

His gaze traveled from me, obviously wearing Sirius's clothes, to the bed beyond, with its rumpled sheets and my discarded costume at the foot of it. He seemed to be processing everything at half his normal speed, and watching his face go from muddled confusion to stony blankness stretched for an agonizing eternity. I opened my mouth to speak, but when his eyes snapped back to mine, sharp and cutting, I lost my courage, cowering when he said crisply, "I see."

Before I could even think of what to say, he turned on his heel, about to leave, when Sirius popped up behind him, barring his escape down the staircase.

"Oh, good, you're up!" he said brightly, either ignoring or unnoticing Remus's sudden tension. "You two have a lot to talk about."

He pointed to me and Remus, but Remus snapped, "There's nothing to talk about."

"Mmm, yes, there is," said Sirius, "because I'm forcing you into an intervention. Have fun!"

And with that, he shoved Remus into the dormitory before slamming the door on us. I heard the lock click, but when Remus pulled out his wand and muttered "Alohomora" it stayed stubbornly in place. Remus swore. "He made the thing Imperturbable."

He ran a hand through his messy hair, sighing deeply out his nose in frustration before pocketing his wand. I was still standing there, mute and wide-eyed, when he finally turned to me with a scowl.

"So," he said evenly. "You and Sirius?"

I shook my head, and his eyebrows rose disbelievingly.

"Nothing happened," I managed to say. "Er, I mean – it almost did, but then it didn't…" I trailed off when he snorted, turning away, but his dismissal was like a slap to the face, knocking me out of the daze I'd been swimming in. "What? Are you angry?"

"No," he said, but he was lying. I could always tell when he was. This realization – that he was mad over me potentially sleeping with Sirius – awakened something in me, a little seedling of hope that I'd tried to bury last night – but I forced myself to focus on the situation at hand.

"Yes, you are," I said. "Why?"

"We're all friends again," he said, still not looking at me, "and I don't want him messing things up now that we're all on good terms."

"Except nothing happened," I pointed out. "It could have, but it didn't." I scoffed. "Besides, he shacked up with Marlene again last night once you were done with her."

His face colored, and he looked at me as if I'd struck him. "I wasn't – we didn't – it was just a snog!"

My gut twisted angrily at the reminder, and I fought to keep my hands from curling into fists. "And that's all it was between Sirius and me, too. So don't come in here acting like you're the only one who gets to be angry."

He paused, confused, and I internally winced at my mistake. Fuck. I hadn't meant to tell him that I was angry about Marlene – that would lead to questions, questions that I wasn't ready to answer right now.

"Why would you be angry at Marlene?"

Fuck. "Because she was only using you to get back at Sirius. That's a pretty shitty thing to do to someone." Okay, okay, nice save, Everlark.

"Oh." He blinked, his expression inscrutable. "Yeah, er, that is." He cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over his hair again and making it stand up, and suddenly I wished that were my hand instead of his. "But Marlene and I… Yeah, no, that's not – we're not – I don't want…anything with her."

His face flushed pink as he said it, and it was almost enough to break me down and confess everything to him now that I knew she wasn't a threat, that he didn't feel anything for her, but I held my tongue, my fear of him rejecting me hovering just in my peripheral.

"Cool." I forced myself to nod, trying not to let on to how pleased I was by this turn of events. "That's…cool."

He nodded, trying the doorknob once more and finding it still locked. "Dammit." He pounded his fist on the door. "Sirius, take the spell off! We're done having your stupid intervention!"

When nothing happened, he sighed, hitting his head dully against the wood. "Either he forgot about us, or he's doing this just to torture us."

"Knowing him, he probably did it to torture us, and then really did forget about us."

He turned back to me, grinning slightly.

"Well," he said, "since we're trapped here, we might as well clean up after last night."

He gestured to his rumpled hair and stained toga that looked like someone had dumped a pitcher of butterbeer down the front of it, and though he was too polite to ever say anything, I knew he was also referring to my smudged makeup and wild hair. "Wanna shower first?"

"Please," I said, hopping up from where I'd been leaning against Sirius's footboard.

Remus nodded, leading me into the washroom and pointing out where the towels and things were while discreetly kicking dirty knickers and socks under the sinks. There were two showers side-by-side, and I secretly hoped he'd take the other one, but he only smiled and left, shutting the door behind him while I switched on the shower, disappointed.

The water felt amazing, and it was nice to slough all my makeup off and get rid of the sweat and odor from the night before. It also cleared my head, and I took ten deep breaths to ground myself again, letting go of all the anger and jealousy that I'd felt before my talk with Remus. I knew I was being deliberately ignorant regarding my feelings toward him, but as I let the water run down my face and shoulders, I thought Tonight. I'll tell him tonight, consequences be damned.

I stood under the water with my eyes closed, wondering what it would be like to have him there with me. I'd broken through a barrier last night with Sirius, a wall of glass that had shattered and loosed all my repressed emotions, and I'd realized that I wanted to be intimate again. I'd gone months without intimacy, terrified at every touch, every gesture – it was like all my wants and needs had been frozen under the surface of a very wide lake, inaccessible and unattainable. I hadn't even been able to touch myself without thinking of Aubrey and that fucking library.

And now that I knew what it was like to be intimate again, to have that consensual passion…I wanted it. And I wanted Remus to be the one to give it to me.

There was a knock on the door, and my eyes snapped open again.

"Pipes?" Remus called. "You almost done? I swear if you took all the hot water—"

"I haven't, you crybaby," I said, rolling my eyes and shutting off the shower. Good grief, he was worse than Archie.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, letting my hair be for the moment until I could use my wand to dry it. I grabbed Sirius's clothes, about to put them on before I paused, a sudden idea making my face light up with mischief.

Ditching Sirius's shirt and boxers and adjusting my towel so it sat lower on my chest, I arranged my features into casual elegance and breezed out of the washroom, letting the steam follow me out.

Remus had been rummaging through his trunk for something, but at the sound of the door opening he straightened and turned toward me, his face coloring a lovely shade of red when he realized I was clad in nothing but a rather short towel. His eyes darted to my chest before they went anywhere but at me, and I smirked when his throat bobbed with a heavy swallow.

"All yours," I said sweetly. "And do you have something I could wear? I'm not particularly keen on wearing boxers that aren't mine."

"Uh, yeah, here," he said, practically flinging a sweater and pajama pants at me. "I'll, uh—" He gestured to the washroom before striding in and shutting the door behind him, leaving me alone to change as the shower turned on again.

I could imagine Dorcas shaking her head in mock disgust as I dressed, clucking her tongue as she said "Piper the Viper strikes again."

It was true; I wouldn't deny that I was still a skilled player when it came to the art of seduction – honestly, the only person who could rival me was Sirius. And while I had enjoyed watching Remus turn redder than a Gryffindor banner at a Quidditch match, I wondered if I was trying to be too seductive. Obviously, I wanted to sleep with him at some point, but these annoying feelings extended far beyond simple lust. Emmeline and Becca had said it was apparent that Remus fancied me back, but to what measure? I wasn't blind; I could tell he was attracted to me, especially after that hair stunt earlier this week, but was there anything else?

Christ, you're getting annoying, I thought in disgust. Save the monologue for the play, Pipes.

By the time my hair was dry, and I was comfortably wearing Remus's clothes (definitely not sniffing them creepily every five seconds), he was already done showering, and I lounged back on his bed, pulling a stray quill out from underneath me and tossing it on his nightstand. Remus wasn't a messy person, but he was certainly cluttered, and it took me several minutes to get everything out from underneath me so I could sit in peace.

I toyed with a replica Sneakoscope I'd found, so absorbed in turning all the little knobs that I hadn't even realized Remus had taken a leaf out of my own book until he stood at the foot of his bed, grabbing clothes out of his trunk.

"Hey, where'd you get this?" I asked, still not paying attention to the glorious sight awaiting me. "It's fucking cool— Holy shit where are your clothes?"

My voice had turned into a strangled yelp by the end, and Remus bent down, smug, to pull a shirt from his trunk.

"Well, Pipes," he said, shrugging, "I figured two could play at this game."

Flirting. That was my first thought. Remus Lupin was bloody flirting with me. But…why? I was dead, right? I'd never seen him flirt. That was Sirius's thing. The Remus Lupin I knew aged twelve was too shy for such things.

But this wasn't little second-year Remus, I reminded myself. This was seventh-year Marauder Remus Lupin, who'd grown up in James and Sirius's spotlight, not their shadow – and he knew exactly what he was doing, the smug bastard. He was playing me at my own game.

I leaned back against his pillows, kicking my leg up over my knee and forcing myself to look bored, despite the tingling heat that had started up whenever I'd realized he was just in a towel.

"Two can play," I drawled, "but only one can win. And I have to say, I'm not that impressed."

Which, of course, was an absolute lie. He looked bloody fantastic. Though he was leaner than both James and Sirius, he still had the physique of an athlete (which I had to ask him about – I knew he didn't play Quidditch, so he had to have some secret that had granted him that body), and it seemed that he'd finally grown into all his gangly limbs, for the bloke in front of me looked more man than boy. His skin still had a slight tan that had yet to fade, making his muscles more pronounced, but also his scars.

He didn't have nearly as much as I thought he would, but I could see the faint white lines, the nicks and the cuts and the scratches and the bites he'd sustained over the years from his transformations, etched lightly into his skin. The only one that looked truly bad sat above his left hip, a puckered pink thing that looked newer than the others, probably only a couple of months old.

Remus's smirk faded when he followed my gaze, his mouth pulling into a grimace as he turned quickly away, about to head into the washroom. Before he could flee, though, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, feeling his (quite lovely) muscles tense beneath my touch.

"Whoa, hey," I said, tugging on his arm until he turned to face me completely again. "You didn't think I'd just ignore this, right?" I pointed to the scar. "What happened?"

"Moony," he said stiffly, not meeting my eyes. "Just like all the others."

I frowned. "This one's bigger, though."

"Because he's bigger." His voice was bitter, and my brows scrunched in confusion, silently urging him to continue, and he did. "When I was younger…I bit and scratched myself whenever I was him. I told you about the Shrieking Shack – where I went to transform. I knew that isolating myself in there would keep me from going out and attacking anything, but it drove the wolf mad. Eventually, I learned to control it when…"

He trailed off, suddenly looking extremely guilty. "It's not my place to say."

"What?"

He shook his head. "Listen, Pipes, I'd tell you, but… I need to speak to the others about it first."

"The others." I sat, stumped. "James, Sirius, and Peter?"

"Yeah."

I shrugged. "Okay." He could keep his secrets for the time being. I gestured to his scar again. "That still doesn't explain this."

"I told you," he said, now mildly uncomfortable. "The wolf is bigger."

Coupled with that, I remembered something he'd told me in the Hospital Wing a few weeks ago, about how the wolf thinks differently from a human, and thus can't handle complex human emotions, which makes him go wild, in Remus's own words. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I looked up at him, aghast.

"Moony did this?" I whispered. My fingers hovered just above the scar, wanting to touch it, but afraid at the same time. "Because of me?"

Remus blinked, opening his mouth to deny it, but I shook my head angrily. "And don't lie to me. You told me yourself your last transformation was rough because you were worried about me."

Tears stung my eyes, and suddenly I felt incredibly guilty. This had happened because of me. Because he cared. Because he was my friend again.

When he didn't say anything, I brushed my fingers lightly over the scar, feeling the bumpy, raised skin beneath my fingers, warm and oddly soft. In any other situation, I probably would've been soaking wet, having a half-naked Remus Lupin standing before me as my hand hovered just above the edge of his towel, tracing the scar, but all I could feel was a sort of hollow sorrow that comes from an inexpressible amount of guilt.

"Piper," Remus said gently, wrapping his hand around my fingers and drawing them away from his scar. I looked up, and his expression was strange; a hundred different emotions were battling for dominance on his face, in his eyes. "It's not your fault. I promise."

"But everything is, isn't it?" I said, my voice oddly choked. "Everything bad that's happened is because of me. Because of who I am."

I flung his hand aside. I couldn't sit still; I got up from the bed and began pacing, my hair streaming behind me each time I changed direction.

"I keep making all these bad decisions," I continued bitterly. "Things I know will end terribly, but I do them anyway. Why?" I shook my head. "I just can't stop. And it's ruining my life. Everything I touch breaks, and everything I try to make better just ends up worse. Just look at Archie!"

"Hey, we talked about this, Piper," said Remus. "Archie is not your fault. And neither is me hurting myself."

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head quickly. "You're just saying that because you're my friend."

"I'm being honest," he said, frowning. "If I was lying to you about this, then that would make me a pretty horrible friend."

He's right, I thought miserably. Dammit, Piper, get a grip and quit throwing yourself a pity party!

I must've had the stubborn look on my face, the one that told him I wasn't going to let this go easily, because he crossed over to his trunk and dug through its contents for a moment until he finally extracted whatever it was he'd been looking for.

"Here," he said, holding out a large, leather-bound book to me. "Maybe this'll help you feel better."

I took it skeptically, running my fingers over the worn brown cover. In chipped golden lettering, Remus's name stood out on the front: R.J. Lupin. There was something familiar about the book, and I opened it warily, my jaw dropping when I saw the moving pictures on the inside.

"No way," I breathed, looking up with wide eyes. "You kept this? After all this time?"

He smiled sheepishly, pushing a few strands of wet hair off his forehead, and at any other moment I would've said to hell with it and snogged him right there, but the book in my hands was too important, too sacred to cast aside just now.

"Give me a moment," he said. "Let me get dressed and we'll look through it together. It's been ages since I've gone through any of the early stuff."

I could only nod, sitting back on his bed as my eyes drank in the pictures – snapshots of memories, of our childhoods, captured forever in both wizarding pictures and Muggle Polaroids. I couldn't believe he'd kept the scrapbook all these years. I thought for sure he would've torched it as soon as I stopped being friends with the Marauders, but here it was, solid and whole in my hands.

Remus emerged from the washroom, fully clothed, and plopped down beside me on his bed, keeping a respectable distance between us. I had already skimmed through the first few pages, smiling softly at pictures of a young Remus with his parents, and I had just reached his first year at Hogwarts when he joined me in perusing the pages.

"I forgot you had a gap between your front teeth when you were younger," I said, pointing to a moving picture that featured Remus about to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, smiling nervously at the camera and shifting from foot to foot, already dressed in his black robes.

He chuckled. "It made me look like a beaver. I hated it!"

"Maybe you aren't a werewolf after all," I joked, "just a really large, hairy, ferocious beaver—"

My joke earned me a smack across the face with a pillow, and I fell back, laughing, as he shook his head in exasperation at me.

"Insufferable," he muttered fondly under his breath. He took the book from me and flicked through a few more pages until we reached his second year, and he let out a triumphant laugh, gesturing to one of the pictures. "I knew I kept these pictures. Take a look."

I grabbed the book and choked in disbelief when I saw little eleven-year-old me, all freckles and goofy grins and my bangs dyed that atrocious shade of red, captured in a Muggle picture where I stood between Peter and James, both of whom were standing solemnly as if getting their portrait painted while I waved frantically at the camera, my hand a blur. I groaned.

"Burn it," I said. "Please, I'm begging you. These should never see the light of day again."

"Aw, c'mon," Remus said, tugging the book back when I twirled my wand contemplatively. "You were a cute kid, Pipes."

We seemed to realize what he said at the same moment, for I looked away awkwardly while he coughed into his sleeve, his face a faint pink. It was quickly forgotten, however, when I spotted a certain picture and yanked the book back with a cackle.

"I remember this!" I said. The picture was another wizarding one and featured all four Marauders and me standing by the edge of the Black Lake. I couldn't recall who we had asked to take our picture together, but I would never forget the look on Sirius's face after I had pushed him into the lake, captured forever in this photograph. "Sirius was so pissed at me. He didn't talk to me for a week!"

We continued like that for several minutes, pointing out various photographs and having a laugh over them, but abruptly, the pictures with me in them disappeared entirely, replaced by ones that only contained the Marauders, and later, began incorporating Lily, Marlene, and the other seventh-year girls – at parties, at Quidditch matches, at meals. I fell silent as Remus continued thumbing through the pages, keeping up lively commentary, but he seemed to notice that my heart wasn't in it anymore after I failed to laugh at something he said.

"You all right?" he asked.

I suddenly felt like such an idiot, not wanting to voice the reason why I had gone quiet. After all, what had I expected? Obviously, I wouldn't be in any more pictures after his second year; I had left them for other friends, better friends than they were back then. I shouldn't be upset at him for moving on and continuing to live his life without me in it, but I was. I'd missed out on so much, so many years we could've had together to fill these pages with more memories of our friendship, and maybe more. I'd lost more than a friend when I ditched Remus so long ago; I'd lost time, and with it, a potential relationship that would never be. And now I'd never get that, once he graduated in a few months and went off to fight in a war.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. "I should've stayed friends with you – I didn't have to cut you out of my life. You didn't deserve my hatred – I could've just stayed, and told James and Sirius off for bullying – I shouldn't have called you a coward—"

I was rambling now, trying to keep from crying, and it wasn't until Remus wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his shoulder, my voice muffled against his sleeve, that I stopped babbling and let the tears come. One of his hands rubbed soothing circles on my back while the other rested against the back of my neck, holding me to him, and I wished I wasn't bawling like a pathetic baby so I could enjoy this more, but the remorse of years of grudges and regrets was a hard thing to shake.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said fiercely. "You did the right thing. I – I wished I could've stood up to James and Sirius the way you did. I was a coward, Piper. Don't be upset for stating the truth."

"I should've been the bigger person," I blubbered. "I didn't have to prank you lot, or call you ugly names, or jinx you for no reason—"

He laughed lightly. "Pipes, even you don't think that's true. We were berks, and we deserved to be knocked down a few pegs."

I sniffed. "Not all the time. Just every once in a while."

He laughed again, and I drew back, wiping my eyes. "Ugh," I groaned. "If I start crying again today, just punch me in the face next time, all right? I'm sick of it."

"Deal." He nodded before flipping to the end of the bed to dig through his trunk yet again. "A-ha!"

He flung himself beside me on the pillows again, grinning mischievously before there was a flash of light, and I blinked, dumbfounded, until I saw the developing photograph being spat out of his Muggle camera. "Remus, no! I look awful!"

"You look fine," he said, taking out the picture and flapping it a few times before handing it to me. "See?"

I looked like an angry terrier, but I didn't say that, only wrangling the camera out of his hands and snapping a photo of my own in retaliation.

"Miss Everlark," he said, aghast. "Are you trying to initiate a camera war?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Lupin," I said, holding the camera out of his reach as he lunged for it, "I think I am!"

He wrestled me for the camera, but when I wouldn't relinquish my hold, he began tickling my sides, pinning my legs down when I tried to kick at him, shrieking with laughter. He managed to get the camera back and sat back on his heels as I sat up, laughing, the light flashing right when I did. We waited for the photo to develop as we caught our breath, and when it was finished, he examined it, an odd look on his face.

"How bad?" I asked, still panting slightly.

"Not bad at all," he said quietly, showing it to me, and I was surprised to find that he was right. He had caught me mid-laugh, my hair disheveled artfully around my shoulders while my eyes were squinted shut, my mouth open in mirth, my face flushed. It was blurry at the edges, and my mouth was a little too big, in my opinion, but it was the first time I had seen myself look so…happy.

Swallowing down the sudden lump in my throat, I grabbed the camera from Remus's slack hands and grinned softly. "My turn."

He looked away in embarrassment at the last second, but when the photograph was done I stared at it as if it were the most astonishing thing I'd ever seen. The light had captured him perfectly, all tousled hair that had turned gold from the sun's rays shining in through the window behind him, and pale green eyes, his expression sheepish but relaxed, so open it made my heart soar. He was so beautiful, I realized then, and he didn't even know it. He didn't think he could be, but I saw it.

"Can I keep this?" I asked, my voice soft as I waved the photograph at him. "I like it."

He seemed surprised, but he nodded. "Yeah, 'course. Can I, er, keep yours too?"

I smiled. "Yes."

He grabbed a quill from his bedside table and offered it to me as we exchanged photographs, saying to my questioning look, "We should date them. You know, to remember when we took them."

I accepted the quill and wrote 1 November 1977 on the back of my picture of Remus, and when he wasn't looking, I scribbled, The moment I realized underneath the date, just to remind myself in the future. He took the quill from me and wrote his own thing, and we were silent for a few moments until he spoke.

"My mum still asks about you, y'know." He grinned at my wide-eyed expression. "She always told me we'd find a way to be friends again. She believes that certain people come into our lives and always find a way to stay there, no matter the odds. Like fate."

"I believe that, too," I said, my voice oddly choked, and he looked at me, his eyes indecipherable as he nodded. "So do I."

This was it, I realized. This was the perfect time to tell him how I felt. I would never get such a brilliant opportunity again. And the way he was looking at me – oh, fuck…

"Remus—"

"Piper—"

"Why the fuck is the door locked?"

Remus and I both started as the dormitory door blasted open, revealing a haggard and annoyed James as he stumbled inside, peering at us blearily behind his spectacles.

"Oh," he said stupidly. "Was I interrupting something?"

Well, that was it, I decided.

I was going to kill James Potter.

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Until next time!

(Reading back this chapter was so wild when I remembered the photographs and their significance in the ending to the first draft of this story. It's crazy how much things have changed since I first wrote this!)