"You wouldn't happen to know anything about televisors, would you Pettigrew?"

Peter looked up from packing his things. N.E.W.T. Muggle Studies was a joint seminar for the few sixth and seventh years who bothered with the course. It was mostly Ravenclaws looking for an easy O, though there were a few students planning careers in enchantment who saw muggle inventions as a legitimate source of inspiration. This particular Ravenclaw did not seem to fit either category, however.

"You mean televisions? A bit, why?"

"I came across the most incredible detail while I was reading the other day. Did you know, the American muggles apparently showed a man landing on the moon! How in the world did they manage that?"

"Probably brought a camera with them to record, I expect. Or did you mean how did they get the images broadcast into people's houses?"

"Ah, no, sorry, I should be more clear. I'm trying to understand how they made it so realistic."

"Realistic?"

"Right! The strange light on the surface, the total blackness of the sky… It was exactly like Aethelbert of Adisham describes in Heavenly Projections Upon the Astral Sky. Do you think maybe they had a squib working for them, who might have read it and been giving the muggles advice?"

"Muggle cameras are pretty sophisticated. They can show you what's happening, while it's happening, just as if you were standing there watching yourself. Like a wizard photograph. Except that it can go on for hours, and you don't even have to wait for someone to develop it. I don't know how they do it, really, but I don't think it has anything to do with astral projection."

"Amazing. But don't tell me you really believe in that whole conspiracy! Actually going to the moon? Seems absurd." The older boy reached out his hand for a bemused Peter to shake. "I'm Xenophilius, by the way. You can call me Xeno. Or Phil. Or Xenophilius. Unless you want to try Ius? Do you think I could be an Ius?"

Peter's laughter came out as a snort. "It's Peter," he said, giving the hand a shake. "When I hear 'Pettigrew', I usually start going for my wand."

"Hmm, in that case, what d'you think of Ter? Less room for confusion, without the double 'P'."

"Let's stick with Peter and Xeno for now. As for the moon landing, I can't really see why it would be fake. The muggles have been going to space for twenty-five years. Do you think they faked all that too?"

"Twenty-five years! I had no idea. Want to tell me about it this weekend? Or did you already have plans for Hogsmeade?"

"Um, I guess we could?" Peter was flabbergasted. Xenophilius wanted to spend his Hogsmeade weekend studying the broadcast history of muggle space exploration? Then again, Peter had long since given up any hope of understanding Ravenclaws.

"Do you like Puddifoot's? I think their cucumber sandwiches are simply to die for. Shall we meet in the Great Hall and take the carriage together? Or would you rather connect in the village?"

Puddifoot's? As in Madam Puddifoot's?! Peter reeled at these intrusive thoughts as he tried to re-assess the situation. Xenophilius was a gangly sort of fellow, with straight blonde hair that hung well past his shoulders. He wore an odd necklace crafted from pressed violets (and hidden beneath it, a slimmer chain of something else, disappearing into his robes). The look was completed by a pair of overlarge wire-rimmed spectacles at least two decades out of fashion. In short, he was either an eccentric or a visionary, and most probably both.

Peter had let the silence stretch too far. Xenophilius was staring at him. Staring through him? It was hard to tell what the older boy was focussing on, or if indeed he was focussing on anything at all.

"…But we don't have to, if you'd rather not. We could always stick to the library or even just leave it to class."

"No, sorry, I didn't mean to…" Peter cleared his throat. "What I mean is that I've never been to Puddifoot's before, no one's ever asked me."

"Well, and now I am. Up to you!"

Xenophilius was not exactly what Peter typically imagined when he was daydreaming in class, or behind the silencio of his drawn four-poster at night. Of course, this was quite a bit less damning than it sounded, because Xenophilius was not the sort of boy one could imagine, even if one wanted to. Very few wizards had the confidence to attempt such an unconventional style. Xenophilius was unique, and unique was interesting. Peter took a breath, mustering up the best of his courage. "Let's do it. Say, ten o'clock in the Great Hall? You'll have to show me the ropes."

"Oh, how fabulous. You know, Dora said I'd do well to keep my eye on you. You didn't hear this from me, but she really is a bit spooky, what with the way she's always right about this kind of thing. Saturday, then. At ten."

Before Peter had even finished nodding, the other boy had already been swept away by the current of students hurrying from one class to the next. So that was how these things happened, then? Just like that? Spending so much time around James' perverse years-long quest to win Lily's heart had probably warped his sense of romantic pacing. The rest of Hogwarts was not wasting its time on fruitless nonsense. And Peter had a feeling that Xenophilius simply did whatever struck his fancy. But who would have thought that he, Peter Pettigrew, would be the one fancied? The young wizard fought the urge to shout. It really wouldn't do to make a scene in public.

Then three boys stumbled giggling out from behind a nearby tapestry. "Wormtail!" called Sirius between spurts of laughter, "Please tell me I've misheard. Lovegood!? Seriously?"

So much for not making a scene. Peter sighed, frowning, as he stepped toward his roommates in the hope they might escape further notice. "What've you got against him?"

James threw a quick look down the corridor. "I didn't even know he was, you know…" He lowered his voice. "Like that."

"Right," added Sirius, not bothering about the volume. "I've thought he was involved with Miss Spoilsport this whole time."

It was a good point. Dora Parker—who had earned her sobriquet by foiling more pranks over the preceding three years than all other prefects combined—had spent every meal that Peter could remember deep in conversation with Xenophilius Lovegood."He did bring her up, truth be told. It was a bit strange."

Sirius snorted. "Lovegood? A bit strange? You don't say."

"Yes, ha-ha, very funny. What I meant is the way he brought her up. It was like, almost as if she were trying to set us up or something."

Remus chimed in next with his usual sobering note of caution. "Are you completely sure it's supposed to be a date? Maybe he really does just want your help with class. He is a Ravenclaw…"

"He asked me to Puddifoot's!" That settled the matter, as far as Peter was concerned. Even eccentricity had its limits, and stopping by Madam Puddifoot's just because you liked their cucumber sandwiches had to be a step too far, no matter what sort of necklace you favoured.

Though Remus did not seem quite convinced, James was already making plans. "Personally, I think this is spectacular news. Xenophilius Lovegood has been in need of a good distraction for years now. If he and Parker really were together, she must not have been doing a very good job of things. There's no way he's ready for Wormtail's magical company. You'll knock his socks off for us, won't you?"

Of course, Peter thought, James would seize on that. Xenophilius had won the Cup three years running as Ravenclaw seeker, to the endless irritation of his quidditch-mad friends."You're really that worried about the Eagles? I thought the Cup was a sure-thing with you now captain."

"I'm not worried. We're good. Great, even." James again looked down the corridor, which had emptied out in the meantime. They were going to be late for class. "The thing is, Emma might fly like an angel, but Lovegood's always first to spot the snitch. And if we can't beat fucking Ravenclaw a single sodding time before I leave this school, I swear to Godric I will curse their stupid common room to only accept 'Snivellus' as the answer to its idiotic riddles."

"Don't look at me, mate" replied Sirius, "I'm just one of the beaters."

James gave Sirius a good swat to the back of his head. Peter could only roll his eyes at their predictable antics. "If we're done marvelling at my romantic success, can we head to class? It's only been a week and I'm already falling behind. Who knew N.E.W.T.'s would be so hard? Can we get the old Flitwick back? The nice one who spent weeks helping us with the summoning charm?"

~xx~

"You owe me for this, Padfoot. Do you have any idea how long it takes them to lock up Honeydukes after it closes? Two hours! Two hours under the cloak. I'm going to smell like James for a week."

Peter regretted these words the moment they left his mouth, because sure enough Sirius had already transformed and begun sniffing and pawing at his shins. "Oh, stop it. You don't need to transform, you can smell it just fine as a human."

This was, of course, an even worse thing to say, because Sirius promptly returned to his human form in order to take a hearty sniff of Peter's shoulder with his regular nose. Peter pushed him away with a cry of "Oi!" Peter pulled out the shrunken package that he'd been given to smuggle back through the Honeyduke's basement and passed it over to Sirius.

James watched Sirius' foolishness with amusement. "Sorry Wormtail, but it had to be you. Moony's got prefect duties and we had training."

"All that power's gone to your head,"dissented Sirius. "The team would have survived without me for one bloody practice. I miss McLaggen. She'd have let it slide without a second thought, especially once I told her the reason."

"And how many Quidditch Cups did Ciara McLaggen bring home to Gryffindor? None! McGonagall only entrusted me with the team after I promised her I would do everything in my power to win. If you can't be arsed to meet for two practices a week, then I can't let you on the pitch. Simple as."

"What are you so worried about? Everyone knows Hufflepuff is even worse than Slytherin this year. Vaisey wouldn't catch the snitch if you gave him an hour's head-start. At least Reg knows what the damned thing looks like!"

"Complacency. I'm worried about complacency. I start making exceptions for my mates and then before I know it, the whole squad's after me with excuses before every practice. 'I've got an essay!' or 'I've got a date!' or 'I've got detention!' I don't want to hear any of it!"

"Ahem?" Peter had heard enough of this bickering. For all his complaining, Sirius sure had a hard time saying no whenever James asked him down to the pitch for a fly. They were both taking things awful seriously these days, and without Remus around to balance their numbers, the group's talk constantly found its way to the affairs of the team. "Would anyone else like to get out of this cramped tunnel, or are we going to argue about quidditch for next hour? Dissendium."

Peter led the way through the opening, James and Sirius following behind. This passageway through the statue of the one-eyed crone was probably the greatest discovery their explorations of the school had yielded to date. Students had fantasised for decades, probably centuries, about the possibility of sneaking off to Hogsmeade without interference from the likes of Filch. To think that there was a tunnel leading straight into the heart of town! How many students had walked this corridor over the years? The faint join along the crone's hump was nigh invisible to human eyes—but to a rat, yes, to a rat it had been plain as day. (It also helped that they had Remus Lupin to work out the spell needed to open it.) Peter couldn't wait to see what other secrets they would find as they continued their investigations further up the castle.

The third-floor corridor was empty at this time of evening. The last exams had been held that Friday, so the library was empty of all but the most paranoid Ravenclaws, while the late December weather was too bleak for anyone to be taking an after-dinner stroll outdoors. Most students would be holed up in their common rooms, to pack for the winter holiday and to celebrate the end of term. It was to just such a celebration that the three Gryffindors were carrying their spoils. Sirius had been waiting for this Hogsmeade weekend since he'd come of age the month previous, and had spent (what Peter considered) a frankly irresponsible number of galleons at the Spirited Spirit.

The party was in full swing when they entered Gryffindor Tower. The younger years had already been sent to bed, leaving the rest to chatter away over exploding snap and wizard's chess, while the dulcet tones of Celestina Warbeck played from the house wireless. Someone had hung a banner decorated with the slogan The Unslug Club from one sconce to another across the common room.

Surveying the scene with evident approval, Sirius removed the small package from his robes and bent over to place it on the floor. He pulled out his wand. "Engorgio!" Everyone in the common room looked over to the newcomers at once. When they noticed what Sirius had enlarged, a raucous cheer went up from gathered students. "The party," Sirius declared, giving a bow, "can now begin." The cheer grew louder.

Sirius pulled four bottles of Ogden's Finest out from the enlarged case and sauntered over to the group of seventh years occupying the choice armchairs around the fireplace. One bottle each went to the prefect duo, upon whose discretion and tolerance this whole affair of gross rule-breaking naturally depended. The other two were tucked in beside the one nearly-empty bottle of firewhisky already on the table serving as makeshift bar.

A voice from the far corner took Peter's attention off Sirius. "You're finally here!" It was Emma Reynolds, Gryffindor's fifth year seeker, a light flush already visible upon her cheeks. She waved her empty glass for James and Peter to see. "And right on time too!"

James favoured her with a hint of that perfect carefree smile of his. "So it seems,"he called back across the room. "We haven't missed too much, then?"

She giggled loudly enough for the boys to hear. Excusing herself with a nod from her friends, Reynolds cut through the crowd and approached her captain. "Oh, maybe a little bit," she replied, then took another two steps closer. "Lucky for you, I'm here to help catch you up."

"That's, uh, that's awfully nice of you, Emma."

Reynolds, emboldened, took another step. She tucked a flyaway strand of her blonde flick back into place, all the better to brush against him in manufactured accident. "The girls"—she indicated her friends in the corner—"were just reminding me what the seeker's supposed to do. What she's best at." Reynolds flushed a shade darker, and leaned in on tiptoe to whisper something in James' ear.

James blanched. "Sorry, Emma, it's just… I can't." He smiled at her again, this time rueful. "I guess I've been a chaser my whole life."

Peter fought the urge to laugh. James was rich, good-looking, a quidditch star, and utterly helpless around women. Lily Evans had turned him down flat just last week. And now Emma Reynolds was staring at him with the look—more baffled than injured—of a girl whose obvious loveliness had never before failed in all her sixteen years' experience.

Sirius' voice saved James from the sure embarrassment of further conversation. "Sixth years! Our dormitory!" He gave the common room his best rakish grin. "Unless you want to keep drinking this swill with the rest of this lot?" Sirius made for the staircase without a second glance behind, rightly confident that everyone present would follow his lead.

James gave Reynolds' shoulder an awkward squeeze, then made his way up to their dormitory. Peter started after him, but was held back by Ann Horrocks, a stocky brunette James had recruited to play keeper after McLaggen's graduation. "Is it, y'know, decent in there?"

"Bet yours is worse,"Peter shot back. "At least we've got Remus to keep us in line. C'mon. It'll be fun." Peter could tell that Ann only meant a token protest for the sake of form. Marlene was already heading for the stairs, and he knew Mary and Louisa and the rest of their year would follow shortly.

Peter and the girls found James and Sirius sitting on the floor, with a bottle of purplish-red liquor and a set of cut-glass tumblers arranged in front of them. "Welcome to our humble abode," offered Sirius, extending his arms. "Take a seat and a glass, pour yourself a drink, and make yourself comfortable."

Marlene settled herself on the floor opposite Sirius. "Only you could call a Hogwarts dormitory humble and make it sound like you were describing some grand manor."

"What can I say? It's a gift."

Peter took the other place beside Sirius. "He does like to play the gallant host, doesn't he? Just don't let him try and conjure you an armchair."

"How many times do I have to tell you that wasn't on purpose?"Peter glared at him. "I swear! I didn't mean for it to collapse on you!"

"Sure." Peter had spent far too much time around Sirius to believe him entirely innocent, of anything, ever.

"I saw that trick of Dumbledore's and wanted to figure it out for myself. Honest!"

"Lily can do it, actually," remarked Mary. "Not Dumbledore level, obviously, but good enough that you wouldn't know it was a conjuration."

"Let's not talk about Evans," came the peevish reply from James, now doubtless planning an entire course of study on furniture charms for himself."Let's play a game."

Ann poured herself a measure from the open bottle at the center of the little circle the group had formed sitting down. "What's the game?"

"It's a very easy game," Sirius began, "in which the goal is to outlast your opponents. A test of endurance, fortitude, and magical capacity." He picked up the bottle and displayed it to the circle. "This is Mixenden's Finest Electrogin. How it works is, we go 'round the circle, and each of us takes a drink. The first one to discharge loses."

Unlike firewhisky, which burned going down your throat and had you belching streaks of flame, electrogin sent a sort of current running through your body that made your hair stand on end and throw off sparks. When several people drank the stuff together, you'd get arcs of lightning shooting across the room from one head to another. The effect was quite spectacular, really, which probably explained why electrogin was so dear.

"I'm in,"agreed Marlene instantly. "What's the loser have to do?"

"Loser does my charms essay," replied Sirius. "Unless it's Wormtail."

"Not funny." It was a bit mean-spirited, Peter felt, to put things so bluntly in front of everyone. Not that Sirius was wrong to think it.

"Alright, instead let's say the loser has to take a drink."

Now Louisa was the one unimpressed. "That's just stupid. We're all already drinking. How about the loser has to help downstairs with the clean-up?"

This proposal was met with general agreement. James was the first to smirked at him. "Tough luck, Prongs!"

Marlene reached over to take the bottle. "What's with the nicknames, by the way? I've been wondering for months."

"Oh, that's a pretty funny story," answered Sirius. "It all started when I walked in on James in the shower, and couldn't help but notice—"

Mary shrieked, covering her ears. She looked around, a little embarrassed by the outburst, and gave a wry chuckle. "Sorry about that. I, uh, don't think I want to know?"

The game continued. Mary lost. Then Louisa. Peter was rapidly becoming happily tipsy. Finally, after a round that lasted so long everyone had needed to refill their glasses twice, Marlene declared she had to visit the loo. Mary decided she'd do the same, which naturally meant that all the girls would go together. Ann had the idea to bring down her set of tarot, which Peter could tell was an excuse for them to go up to the girls' dormitory rather than risk stepping inside the boys' toilets.

The girls clattered out into the hall, leaving the three boys to fend for themselves. James was staring absentmindedly through a window at the blizzard outside. Peter took a sip from his glass. "Having second thoughts about your friend Reynolds?"

"What's this about Emma?" asked Sirius, topping off his drink.

"She wanted, well… She was offering to take me…" James' colour rose. "Oh, bugger all. She came right up and whispered the bloody password to the bloody prefect's bath, right into my ear!"

Sirius gave a great bark of laughter. "Merlin's saggy left tit! That little vixen, she's had her eye on you the whole year, I knew it. But I can't believe she'd just go out and ask! What'd you say?"

James sighed. "What do you think I said? I told her I was sorry, but that she just wasn't my—"

The dormitory door opened before he could finish the sentence.

"…My type." James gulped nervously as Sirius whistled a soft note of admiration.

Lily Evans stood at the threshold in modest dress robes of bottle green. The cut flattered every inch of her excellent figure, while the colour set off her extraordinary eyes like the gemstones they were. Lily was one of those lucky few who never needed to bother herself with fashion. But when she took the time to dress up, she was simply impossible to ignore. "Where is everyone? They told me downstairs that the entire year had come up to the boys'."

"The girls were just here," Peter explained, "Marlene wanted the loo, so they all stepped out for a bit.

They should be back soon."

"It's like they move in packs," James added, rather stupidly. Sirius snickered.

"And Remus?"

"He must still be on patrol," replied Peter. "How was the party? I didn't think you'd be back so soon."

The redhead hesitated. Then, with a shake of her head and an odd sniffle, she strode decisively into the room and sank heavily to the floor beside James. Lily rubbed the rim of an empty glass clean with the hem of her robe, poured a slug of gin, and knocked it back, all in one fluid motion. Peter noticed, now she was closer, that her makeup had been smudged. She gave a delicate hiccup, followed by a snort of laughter.

"Evans—Lily—what's wrong? Are you… Are you crying?" James was looking at her now with that serious mien he so rarely allowed to show through his guise of japery. Peter was transported back to when his friend first worked out Remus' furry little problem and then promptly resolved to fix it, with all the dunderheaded confidence of a twelve year old boy.

"The party was dreadful. Morgana knows why I went with Davies. He was trying to take liberties before we'd even had a single drink. I should've listened to Marlene."

James nodded sympathetically. "Davies is a toerag."

"And he brought that slag Sarah Morris along. They got on famously, of course, probably gossiping about me the whole time."

"Who did? You mean Sniv—Snape?"

"It was like he couldn't even stand to look at me! When Slughorn pulled us both aside to make introductions with Damocles Belby, I kept trying to catch his eye and he just ignored me. Am I really that disgusting?

James did his best to mask the revulsion that thoughts of Lily and Severus caused him. "Lily, look. I've been meaning to apologise to you, say I'm sorry for badgering you about going out with me. For always being such a prat." Lily was staring at him, so he paused before continuing. "But all those times—you know I always meant it, right? You're the opposite of disgusting. If Snape somehow can't see that, then he's even more hopeless than I thought."

"And I must have made a terrible impression on Belby," Lily pressed on, half-ignoring James, "never mind that I've been looking forward to meeting him ever since I'd heard he was coming. That's how distracted I was. Now he probably thinks I'm just some trumped-up muggleborn who wouldn't know aconite from monkshood."

"Snape wishes he were as good as you in potions."

This got a true laugh to break through the tears. "That's nice of you to say and all, but speaking frankly, how the fuck would you know either way?"

James couldn't help the waggish grin cracking across his face. "And sod this muggleborn business. I'm as pureblood as any Nott or Malfoy, and I've got no clue what difference there is between aconite and monkshood."

"They're the same plant, you moron!" Lily gave another brittle laugh, then grew serious. "It's like I'm all alone now, James. I told myself I still had Mary and Marlene and the other girls but then I remember Alice is gone and so's Frank and it's not the same!" She wiped away a tear. "And it wouldn't be the same no matter what, because Sev won't speak with me and I won't speak with Sev—and that's without even getting into the whole mess with Tuney…"

Peter wondered if James and Sirius were aware that Lily had a muggle sister named Petunia. That had always been a fraught relationship, as he recalled, and it sounded like things were getting worse, not better. From the way that James had sidled closer to Lily—Peter could tell he was just itching to put his arm around her shoulders—he had the feeling that James might know all about it by the end of the night. Something different was taking shape. Old hopes were kindling anew.

Sirius pushed himself to his feet. "C'mon Wormtail. Let's go see if we can find Moony before the girls get back."

"Alright."Peter got up unsteadily. Even sober he'd have failed to imitate his friend's characteristic shaggy grace. "We'll be back." The follow-up barb Please don't kill each other in the meanwhile died on his lips. It no longer seemed suited to the boy and girl drawing closer beside each other on the floor.

The two boys descended back through the common room, where Sirius waved off a teammate's offer of a drink, and exited through the portrait-hole into the corridor.

"Where d'you think we should check first?" asked Peter, once the Fat Lady had shut behind them. "This is going to be so much easier when we finish the map."

"That map's got to be one of Moony's best ideas ever. There's a classroom just down the hall that's usually unlocked. Let's wait there. It's not like we're in any rush to find him, I just thought we should give those two some privacy up in the dormitory "

Peter followed Sirius into the classroom and took the seat beside him on the bench nearest the door. "You think they were having a moment, then?"

"Yeah, reckon I do. Hard as it is to believe. Prongs is growing up."

"What about you?"

"Growing up? Me? Perish the thought. I have a reputation to uphold."

"And what reputation is that?"

Sirius gave him his best haughty glare. "The roguish ladykiller of the Marauders, of course."

"I see." Peter rolled his eyes affectionately. "Then what's that make me?"

"Dunno. The one bloke in this whole damn school who knows how to dress properly?"

Peter hoped the poorly-lit classroom would conceal the blush that crept over his face at Sirius' praise.

"I love Prongs,"Sirius elaborated, "really I do, but that boy couldn't tell a Twilfitt from a Tatting. He's lucky Lily's just as clueless as he is. You saw what she was wearing, didn't you? That high embroidered neckline hasn't been fashionable in five years. At least. It's 1976, girls are supposed to show a little skin! I smell Mary's bad advice."

"Lily actually looks good in our school robes. She probably doesn't see the point in learning witches' fashion. I'm jealous, to be honest."

Sirius put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the desk. "James sure likes to aim for the stars, doesn't he?"

"James is a star, Sirius."

"It's quite obnoxious, isn't it? How good those two look together."

Peter turned to straddle the bench and face his friend. "So do you think it's really happening? How's that make you feel?"

"Seems that way." Sirius glanced over at Peter. "Can't say I'm too surprised, considering he hasn't so much as looked at another girl in years. Then again, it's still Prongs. He could well have bollocksed things up by the time we're back upstairs."

Peter smiled, but remained serious. "I'd usually agree, but…the way his face looked up there… I don't know if you noticed, but it reminded me of that time in second year, when he figured it out about Moony."

"That's Prongs for you. He likes to pretend he doesn't care, that he's above it all, but deep down we all know he really does. More than anybody, I think."

"He just took charge of the situation the instant he realised what was going on. We would help Remus, never mind that none of us had the slightest clue how to go about it. I never even thought of telling anyone else what we figured out."

"Neither did I. James is special that way. When he knows what's right, what's really right, James will never back down from a challenge." Sirius stretched his arms above his head, then scratched behind his ear. "'Course it's funny when the challenge is something like Lily. He was convinced all summer this would be his year. He even told me—this was completely hilarious—that he's already decided I'm to be their first kid's godfather. We were pissed at the time, obviously."

"James needs to make it through an entire conversation with her in one piece before he starts planning the wedding, much less kids. Guess we'll see when we get back upstairs."

Sirius could only laugh at that. There was a spell of companionable silence. "What's the deal with you and Lovegood, by the way?"

Peter shrugged. "It's not serious or anything. Parker moved to France to do an arithmancy mastery, so they're taking a break while Xeno finishes Hogwarts. I'd bet anything they get back together as soon as he does."

"Can I ask you another question?" Sirius was staring vaguely at the door and his voice was unusually quiet.

"Um, alright?"

"Did you ever ask Marlene about me and Amelia?"

That certainly wasn't what Peter had expected to be asked. "Yes? Why d'you ask?"

"What'd she say? Why'd you never talk to me about it?"

"Marlene told me about her and Amelia." Peter swallowed. "Then she let slip about you. She made me swear not to tell—like I ever would have, obviously."

"Not to tell other people! I told you to ask Marlene so that she would tell you about me!"

Peter didn't understand why Sirius was suddenly so upset. "What's it matter anyway?"

"Merlin! Peter, how much good advice have you given James about Lily over the years? Don't you ever take a moment to think about your own life?"

"Of course I did! At first I thought, you and Remus. It sort of fit, last year, thinking about the girls he's always snubbed. Then I heard about this summer. I thought, you and James. It all made perfect sense, including the whole dead end with Lily. You moved into his house!"

"Nonsense, Peter. I love James like a brother! And he really does love Lily, like a complete idiot."

"I didn't want to make things weird. You and James and Remus are too important to me. If you didn't want to share who you were dating, or who you wanted to date, that was your business. What, should I have gone up to you and asked you to Puddifoot's?"Peter shook his head fiercely. Puberty had not been especially kind to Peter. He had gained weight, but little stature. The tall, rich, handsome boy beside him had always flown in another league entirely. "I mean, look at me. I'm not such an idiot to think you'd be interested, when you can have most anyone you'd ever care to ask. I have my pride."

"That's a load of shite, Peter. Besides, I'm pretty enough for the both of us." Peter was taken aback at Sirius' tone. The other boy looked down self-consciously. "Or that's what I would have said before these damned spots started cropping up. 'Acne vulgaris', right? It even sounds like a curse."

Then Sirius raised his eyes to meet Peter's. As if by magic, they leaned together, their lips touched, and then opened. Peter could taste sloe and juniper and a hint of the flat metallic fragrance that always warns of a coming storm. He broke away from the boy he had had a crush on since his fifth year. "Haven't we had a bit much to drink?"

Shyly, uncertainly, Sirius raised his hands to Peter's face. "And here I was just thinking we'd had the perfect amount to drink." They kissed again.

~x~

There is no one uniformly brave. How else can one explain Remus' failure to meet the eyes of every pretty Ravenclaw stopping by his table in the library? James' embrace of childish teasing, so that he did not have to risk being serious with the one girl he cared might turn him down? Or Sirius' continuing refusal to be known in public? Even Lily Evans, who still cried for the sister she loved and hated and missed, and for the best friend she loved and hated and missed. How else to explain Peter's—well, almost everything about Peter? How he feared failing, feared not being good enough, feared being left behind and thrown aside.

(Not uniformly brave, but brave nevertheless. Thus Remus, bearing his secret burden alone, howling in such agony it would haunt his cage for years. Thus James, apologising just barely not too late. Thus Sirius, refusing his family's entire tradition of hatred, heedless of the cost. Thus Lily, standing up to her own house for the sake of a dear friend done grievous wrong. And thus Peter, who defied the times to be himself, and did it proudly.)

~xxxx~

A/N: A stirring conclusion! Romance in the air! Surely our happy ending must be right around the corner? Right? Right?!

I know I've cheated throughout with respect to Peter's personality. The sycophancy we get from Harry's account of Snape's memory would be far too grating to read at any length greater than those five or so pages of the original. Still, it should be clear that the others remain very much willing to take the piss out of him, and that he's usually a bit secondary in the hierarchy of conversation.

This cheat is why I felt it was important to stand firm on the question of his physical appearance. On the other hand, knocking Sirius' pureblood good looks down a peg with this most mundane of teenage catastrophes was irresistible. As for the singular Xeno Lovegood, I wonder understood just what that bit of advice he got from his old girlfriend really meant…

Mixenden and Ogden are real places in West Yorkshire, very near to Hebden Bridge, which holds an annual competition for sloe gin. There should be a larger selection of magical 'spirits' than just butterbeer and firewhisky. Electrogin seemed a natural addition.

Next time we get our closest look yet at James' pursuit of quidditch glory, and take a peek at some events of lesser importance happening across wizarding Britain. I hope you've liked this one and look forward to the next. As always, I appreciate your comments and your reading…