Rebel Rebel

Gryffindor Common Room, January 7, 1978 

The return to Hogwarts after the holidays felt different for Lily. For once, Mulciber had been expelled. Apparently, James and Marlene’s fathers had put enough pressure on the Board and Dumbledore to kick Mulciber to the curb following his use of Dark magic, impose a stricter curfew along with increased patrols from teachers. Lily was simply thankful that Mary would not have to face her assailant at the return of class from their winter break.

After weeks of exchanging letters with James, she found herself wondering what it would be like to actually talk to him again. As the castle loomed ahead, its towers dusted with snow, she spotted James on the platform, laughing with his friends. Her heart gave an unexpected flutter—something new, something strange.

After the feast, she barely had time to settle into her routine before James approached her in the Gryffindor common room, his face lighting up with a grin.

“Evans! Wait, I have something for you.”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “The gift you’ve been talking about in every letter?”

“Exactly. You’ll love it,” he said, holding a small, intricately wrapped package in his hand. His voice held a teasing lilt, but there was something more sincere behind his eyes as he handed it to her.

Lily hesitated for a moment, unsure what to expect, then slowly unwrapped the package. Inside was a silver quill, its feather shimmering like stardust. Her name was engraved along the handle, and it glowed softly when she touched it.

“It’s enchanted,” James explained, sounding almost shy. “It never runs out of ink, and it’s charmed to write perfectly, even if you’re in a rush. Thought it might help you with your Head Girl duties—or maybe just when you’re fed up with all of us.”

Lily stared at the quill for a moment, genuinely taken aback. It was thoughtful, much more than she’d expected. She glanced up at him, finding it hard to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“I... I actually like it,” she admitted softly, running her fingers over the smooth metal. “Thanks, Potter. It’s—well, it’s perfect.”

James grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Told you you’d love it. I know you better than you think, Evans.”

Lily rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile stayed, even as James walked back to his friends. Her fingers tightened around the quill. Maybe she’d been wrong about him all this time.

**

Remus sat on the plush armchair by the window, his knees tucked up under his chin, a new guitar resting in his lap. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he strummed a few chords, fingers moving over the strings with an ease that came from practice.

"Got it for Christmas, did you?" Peter's voice came from the arm of the couch, where he was sprawled out, looking uncomfortably full.

"Yeah," Remus replied, eyes still on the guitar. "Mum says she bought it at a small shop up in Cardiff. A bit old, but it sounds brilliant."

Peter grinned. "And it was cheap, I bet?"

"Yeah, but that’s not the point," Remus said, glancing at Peter. "It’s special. My dad—" His throat tightened for a moment, but he pushed through, "My dad taught me how to play. I’ve been practicing lately."

Peter tilted his head, his eyes lighting up with that familiar, unassuming curiosity. "Your dad used to play? That’s cool, mate. I didn’t know that."

Remus nodded but didn’t say more.

Peter grinned again, his hands resting on his stomach as he continued, "I got PJs. And food. Loads and loads of food. Mum went all out, as usual."

Remus chuckled, glancing at Peter. "I thought you said you were going to explode from how much you ate?"

"Yeah, well, it was worth it," Peter said with a contented sigh, clearly savoring the memory. "I mean, Mum makes the best turkey, mate. You can’t top it."

Remus leaned back in his chair, fingers absently strumming the strings. He let his mind wander for a moment. He was glad to be back.

He turned his head to the side, his gaze landing on Sirius, who was sitting beside him on the other armchair. He had not said anything to anyone about Remus’ confession in December. Instead, he had acted as if nothing had changed. Remus was not sure what to make of it.  Sirius was leaning in close, his eyes bright and wide as he watched the firelight flicker across the room, completely oblivious to how close they were.  Remus could feel the warmth of Sirius’ body beside him, the sound of his voice and laughter mixing with the rest of the common room noise. It was a constant, comforting hum that had become a part of him.

Remus caught himself staring and quickly turned his attention back to his guitar. Sirius probably wouldn’t even notice if he looked at him all day.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Marlene. She was sitting at the other end of the room, her curly hair in a bum, talking animatedly with Dorcas, but her gaze kept flicking toward him and Sirius. A faint frown tugged at her lips, her brow furrowing slightly as if trying to figure something out.

"Moony! Pads!" James bounced into the room, looking like he’d just run a marathon. "You won’t believe it. Lily loved the gift! She actually loved it!" His grin was so wide, Remus was almost afraid his face might split in half.

"Of course she loved it, Prongs," Sirius drawled lazily from his seat, his arm stretching above his head as he leaned back. "It’s a bloody good gift." Sirius would never let James forget that he had helped pick it.

James was practically glowing, his eyes practically sparkling. “I knew she’d like it, but I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would be like that!"

Sirius grinned, his expression amused. "Well, now you’ve got her all impressed, when are you going to ask her out?"

James’ smile faltered, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. "I—I can’t, Pads. I promised I wouldn’t."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, still lounging in his chair, completely nonchalant. "What do you mean? You’ve been mooning over her for years."

James’ face flushed slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I promised her I would stop asking her out when we became Head Boy and Girl together. I can’t go back on my words…She’ll never trust anything I say."

Remus watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at his lips. As James continued to ramble excitedly about his conversation with Lily, Remus let his gaze drift back to Sirius. Sirius, who was still utterly unaware of how close their knees were, still sitting next to him with that same carefree grin plastered across his face.

**

Late at night, on the other side of Gryffindor tower, the sky was thick with clouds, shrouding the stars in darkness. The castle grounds were still, the only sound the occasional rustle of the wind against the windows. Sirius lit a cigarette with practiced ease, the flickering flame of his zippo casting fleeting shadows across his hands before he snapped it shut.

Beside him, Remus exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his fingers curled loosely around his own cigarette. They sat by the open window of the dormitory, the cold night air mixing with the scent of tobacco which James hated. Neither of them had spoken much since they’d slipped out of their beds, but they hadn’t needed to.

Sirius ran a hand through his shaggy hair, sighing. His skin still prickled with the remnants of his nightmare, the echoes of his mother’s voice clawing at his mind. He didn’t even remember what she had been saying this time, only that it had left him hollow, like something inside him had been scooped out and discarded.

"Bad one?" Remus’ voice was quiet, rough around the edges.

Sirius gave a noncommittal shrug. "Nothing new."

Remus nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. His own hands were twitchy, his leg bouncing slightly where it pressed against Sirius’. The moon was a few nights away, and it was already wearing at him. Sirius had learned to recognize the signs—the restless energy, the way Remus’ shoulders curled inward like he was bracing for a blow.

Remus took another drag of his cigarette, the ember at the tip flaring bright in the dim light. "My dad used to make me these drinks when I couldn’t sleep. Warm milk with honey, sometimes whisky if my mum wasn’t around. Said it helped settle the mind."

Sirius tilted his head, considering. "Did it work?"

A small, wistful smile ghosted over Remus' lips. "Sometimes. I think it was more about him making it for me."

Sirius frowned slightly, something tugging at his thoughts. "You never talk about him."

Remus blinked, caught off guard, before looking away. "Not much to say, I guess."

Sirius didn’t buy that for a second, but he didn’t push.

After a moment, Remus spoke again, voice quieter than before. "I miss him. Every day. He was a good dad. The best dad. Took me everywhere when I was a kid… And ever since he died, it’s like my mum’s broken. I just…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighed. "I just want to make her proud."

Sirius swallowed, feeling something unfamiliar twist in his chest. He understood the weight in Remus’ voice, the way his words curled around the edges of grief. Despite everything, he still missed his parents. They had been cruel, suffocating in their expectations, but they were still his. And Regulus… Regulus he missed more than anything. The ache of it crept in at odd moments, quiet but persistent, an absence that would never truly fade.

He glanced at him then, really looked at him—the way the low light caught in his hair, the gentle curve of his cheekbone, the pale lines of scars he barely seemed to notice anymore. Even now, restless and hurting, Remus was—

Sirius cut the thought off before it could fully form.

Because ever since Remus had told him—so casually, so easily—that he’d hooked up with a bloke before, something in Sirius had shifted. Stirred. He didn’t know what to do with it, that quiet, nagging feeling that wouldn’t leave him alone.

Instead, he smirked, nudging Remus’ knee with his own. "Sounds like a smart bloke, your dad. Maybe we should try one of his tricks."

Remus let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t think it’d work for you. Pretty sure you run on chaos, not sleep."

Sirius grinned, flicking ash from his cigarette. "You might be onto something."

They sat in silence for a while after that, smoke curling lazily between them, the quiet settling into something almost comfortable. Sirius let his head fall back against the wall, listening to the steady inhale and exhale of Remus beside him. He wasn’t sure what had changed in that moment, wasn’t even sure anything had. But something lodged itself in the back of his mind, something he wouldn’t fully recognize until much later.

**

The next day, the stands were packed, the usual hum of Hogwarts students replaced by the roaring excitement of the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match. Banners waved wildly in the crisp winter air, a sea of red and gold clashing against Ravenclaw's proud blue.

Although she wouldn’t admit it as she made her way to the Quidditch pitch, Marlene’s mind was elsewhere. She was still reeling from the revelations over the holidays—Duncan’s grim talk of war, her brother's growing distance, and the gnawing fear that Evan might soon align himself with the dark side. But what had truly struck like a cold shower was her mother’s New Year’s insistence that Marlene solidify her post-Hogwarts plans—or face the prospect of Flora arranging a "suitable match" on her behalf.

She shouldn't have been surprised—not after the grand coming-out ball her parents had orchestrated last summer and the stern lecture her mother had delivered over the holiday break. Enduring unsubtle matchmaking efforts disguised as tradition was one thing; seeing her future so clinically outlined in black and white was another.

James and Dorcas would probably tell her to apply for any graduate course at King’s College of Enchantment, if only to keep her mother at bay. Sirius—if they still talked—would no doubt call her mother a "cunt" and tell Marlene to ignore her, damn the consequences.

Lost in thought, Marlene rounded a corner, her boots echoing lightly against the stone floor. She was so deep in her own head that she almost missed the scene unfolding before her—Dorcas pressed up against Cecily, her teammate, their lips locked in a rather enthusiastic kiss.

Marlene froze, her nose wrinkling instinctively. Of all people, it had to be Cecily? She stood there for a beat too long before clearing her throat. Loudly.

Dorcas pulled back, her expression unbothered as she turned to face Marlene, while Cecily just looked amused, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“McKinnon,” Cecily greeted, an infuriatingly smug smirk playing at her lips before she sauntered off inside.

Marlene crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Cecily?” she asked, voice flat. “Really?”

Dorcas shrugged, leaning against the wall. “She’s fit.”

Marlene scoffed. “She’s the worst.”

Cecily and Marlene had been teammates for the better part of two years and there was no love lost between the two of them. Their personalities clashed in every possible way—Marlene was loud and had a habit of talking over people, while Cecily was sharp-tongued and utterly convinced of her own superiority, including her Quidditch skills. It didn’t help that James, their captain, blatantly favored Marlene. 

“That too.”

Rolling her eyes, Marlene pressed on. “So, is this a thing now, or are you just making questionable choices for sport?”

Dorcas chuckled. “Bit of both, maybe. Marlene, you can’t exactly give me a lecture about questionable choices.”

Marlene sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to ! God knows I don’t get your choices either, sometimes,” Dorcas replied, a bit more curt than usual. 

Before Marlene could reply, she added more softly. “Listen, good luck with the game. Give them hell.”

**

The Gryffindor common room, following the win, was buzzing alive with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of bottles. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a warm, flickering glow over the sea of red-and-gold decorations. The Marauders had outdone themselves this time, sneaking wine and butterbeer from Hogsmeade and charming the corks off the bottles. A towering cake—hastily transfigured from a stack of textbooks—sat precariously on the table.

Amid the chaos, Sirius sprawled on an armchair like a monarch surveying his unruly court, a lopsided grin etched across his face. James and Peter darted about the room, pressing drinks into any empty hands they found. By the makeshift DJ station, an enchanted gramophone thrummed with vibrant energy, its magic pushing the sound far beyond its ordinary limits.

Near the crate of vinyl records, Remus knelt with practiced focus, flipping through the collection as though searching for buried treasure.

“What is this?” Dorcas demanded, her voice heavy with disdain as she plucked a record from his hand. “Pink Floyd? Really?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, his tone teetering between defensive and amused. “What’s wrong with Pink Floyd?”

“It’s so... safe,” Dorcas retorted, holding up her own choice with a theatrical flourish. “The Slits. Now this is music.”

Remus shook his head, his fingers deftly reclaiming the record from her grip. “It’s a party, not an insurrection.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with exaggerated defiance. “And who made you the arbiter of fun? That sounds like something a dictator would say.”

On the other side of the room, Lily leaned close to James, her voice low and questioning. “Do you know what’s going on with Marlene?”

It was hard to ignore how ever since coming back from the holidays, she seemed aloof and spent most of her time writing in her journals.

James hesitated, the flicker of a secret playing behind his eyes. “My best bet would be a boy,” he offered casually, dodging the deeper truth. He didn’t mention what he knew—that Marlene’s mood had everything to do with Sirius, who’d unceremoniously ended things between them on his command no less. “But who?” Lily asked curious. 

From his perch on the armrest of Mary’s chair, Sirius observed the pair, his grin sharpening into something conspiratorial. He leaned toward Mary and whispered, “We need to get them together.” He nodded subtly in Lily and James’s direction.

Mary followed his gaze, her unimpressed eyebrow arching like a warning shot. “You mean James needs to grow up first?”

“Details,” Sirius replied with a dismissive wave, his grin unfaltering. “Just help me out here. James swore some sort of blood oath or whatever never to ask her out. It’s tragic, really.”

Mary sighed, exasperation blending with reluctant amusement. “Fine. But you owe me.”

Without missing a beat, she stood abruptly and clapped her hands, the sharp sound cutting through the room’s chatter. “Alright, everyone! Let’s liven this up—time for a game of Never Have I Ever !”

**

A chorus of groans and cheers rippled through the room, excitement overtaking any objections. The group began to shuffle into a loose circle, drinks already in hand, the buzz of anticipation weaving through the air.

Dorcas, eager to get the game going, spoke first. “Never have I ever... been caught sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

Lily, sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolled her eyes but didn’t hesitate to take a quick sip from her drink. The others around her gasped in mock disbelief, clearly amused by her lack of shame.

“What? I wanted to read Advanced Magical Theories ,” Lily defended herself, her cheeks turning pink but a mischievous glint dancing in her eye.

“Of course you did,” Sirius drawled, raising his glass in an exaggerated salute. “You’re a real dangerous, Evans, aren’t you?”

“Never have I ever... made out in the Astronomy Tower,” Remus said, a sly grin tugging at his lips as he scanned the room.

At once, several people reached for their drinks. Sirius, looking casual but with an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, took a long sip from his glass, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his face. Marlene, sitting nearby, gave him a pointed look before nonchalantly sipping her butterbeer.

James, leaning back with his usual swagger, froze for a split second before quickly swallowing down his drink. He cleared his throat, attempting to play it cool. “What can I say? It’s a good spot for stargazing,” he said with a sheepish grin.

The group burst into laughter, some raising their glasses in a mock toast to the three of them.

“Blimey,” Peter said, wide-eyed. “You lot really get around, don’t you?”

Finally, Mary leaned forward with an almost-too-sweet smile. “Never have I ever... wanted to kiss someone in this room.”

The air in the room shifted, and an uncomfortable silence descended. No one moved to take a drink, and everyone’s eyes darted nervously between the others, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

Marlene froze, her fingers tightening around her glass. Her face flushed deep red, and she stared into her drink as if it could somehow reveal all the answers. James’s jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

Sirius cleared his throat loudly, leaning back in his chair as though brushing off the tension. “Well, that’s a bloody exciting one, isn’t it?” he said, forcing levity into his voice before taking a sip of his drink. 

Finally, everyone’s gaze shifted nervously to each other, before they all simultaneously raised their glasses and took a drink. 

**

As the awkwardness began to fade, Mary, ever the leader, took charge of the music with her usual determination.

“Play something fun!” she called over to Remus, who was still stationed by the enchanted gramophone, digging through the crate of records with a look of mild disdain.

“Define fun,” he replied dryly, not looking up.

“ Good times! ” Mary declared, crossing her arms with an air of expectation.

Remus groaned, leaning dramatically on the side of the gramophone. "Right, let me just dig out some neon legwarmers and a disco ball, shall I?"

Mary raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oi, Remus, tell me—are you allergic to fun?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, Lily grinned and chimed in, “Do it, Remus! It’s for the greater good.”

Dorcas wasn’t far behind, adding fuel to the fire. “Yeah, come on, mate, it's not like your taste in music is any better.”

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes as he finally gave in. He placed the record on the turntable, the needle dropping with a soft click. A lively disco track burst to life, and Mary immediately seized Lily's hand, spinning her into the center of the room with an exaggerated twirl.

“Come on, Marlene!” Lily called, extending her hand toward her friend as she began to move to the beat. “We could use your help here!”

“I’m fine—”

“No, you’re not. Come on ,” Lily insisted, her tone firm but warm.

Marlene hesitated, glancing around as though weighing her options, but finally allowed Lily to pull her in. It wasn’t long before the three of them were laughing and spinning, their movements effortlessly matching the infectious rhythm of the music.

Mary, ever the instigator, grabbed James by the arm and dragged him on to the makeshift dance floor. “Oi, Potter, show us what you’ve got!” she teased, positioning him between herself, Dorcas, and Lily.

James put up a token protest but quickly surrendered, his trademark grin flashing as he let himself be swept into the energy of the room. To everyone’s surprise, he turned out to be a decent dancer, his movements unpolished but full of enthusiasm.

“Not bad, Potter,” Dorcas quipped, twirling in time with the music.

“Hidden talents, Meadowes,” James shot back, laughing as he spun Lily unexpectedly.

Lily, clearly tipsy but radiant with laughter, surprised everyone—including herself—by matching his rhythm. The music swirled around them, its infectious beat pulling her deeper into the moment. At first, her movements were hesitant, unsure, as if testing the waters. But then, as she looked up and caught James’s grin—a mischievous, inviting smile—something shifted.

With a lighthearted laugh, she let go, and before she knew it, her body began to follow the rhythm of the music more naturally. 

James, equally caught up in the moment, mirrored her energy. His usual cocky swagger faded into something more genuine—a joyful freedom. There was something magnetic in the way they moved together, as if the world around them had blurred into nothing but their dance. 

Around them, the room seemed to pause for a heartbeat. Heads turned, eyes wide in mild disbelief, though no one dared interrupt the moment. The casual observers could hardly believe what they were seeing: Lily Evans, the girl who had always kept her distance from James, now laughing and dancing with him as if they were two long-lost friends finally reuniting.

For a few seconds, it felt like time slowed, the music fading into the background as the space between them closed with every movement.

Peter, a few feet away, shot a surprised glance at Remus, who was watching intently. “Did I miss something?” he muttered, but his eyes never left the pair.

The laughter in Lily’s eyes was unmistakable, her cheeks flushed with the buzz of the drink and the unexpected joy of the moment. 

Suddenly, the track shifted to an upbeat ABBA hit, and Lily let out an excited squeal. “Girls!” she called, abandoning James to join Mary and Dorcas. They moved as a unit, a whirlwind of infectious energy.

Peter, emboldened by the atmosphere—and perhaps the alcohol—mustered his courage and approached Marlene with a sheepish smile.

“D-Do you want to dance?” he asked, his voice just loud enough to carry over the music.

Marlene blinked, clearly taken aback. For a moment, it seemed as though she might decline. But then, to everyone’s surprise, she smiled. “Why not?”

Peter’s face lit up as she took his hand, and the two moved hesitantly into the fray, their awkwardness somehow adding to the charm of the moment.

**

Across the room, Sirius leaned closer to Remus, his lips curving into an amused smirk as he nodded toward Peter and Marlene.

“This is probably the best night of Pete’s life,” Sirius murmured, his voice low enough to blend seamlessly with the hum of the music.

Remus chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with quiet amusement. “Probably,” he agreed, his tone carrying a note of fondness as he watched the scene unfold.

The party thrummed with the reckless, carefree energy of their youth. Music swelled, laughter rippled through the air.

Sirius shifted closer to Remus without a thought, his arm brushing lightly against his friend’s, as natural as breathing.

“So,” Sirius began, his tone casual but his words laced with a sharper edge, “if you really want to know—I’m not seeing anyone. Not anymore.”

Remus blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. He tilted his head, his brows drawing together in mild confusion. “What are you on about?”

Sirius leaned in closer, enough to catch the flicker of gold in Remus’s eyes. His smirk widened, though it didn’t quite reach his own. “Oh, come on. I can tell you’ve been dying to ask.”

“I—what? No, I haven’t,” Remus stammered, the tips of his ears reddening as he scrambled to hold onto his composure.

“Haven’t you?” Sirius teased, his voice dropping to something softer, more intimate. His grin turned wolfish, though the glint in his eyes dimmed just slightly. He felt Remus tense under his touch, and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if he’d gone too far. “Fine. Forget it. I’m just saying—it’s over. Whoever it was.”

Remus studied him for a beat, his expression softening despite himself. “Well... are you sad about it?”

The question caught Sirius off guard, and his usual bravado faltered. For a moment, something unguarded slipped through. “A little,” he admitted, the words almost lost beneath the music. He did miss her and her teasing. He rolled his shoulders in a shrug, trying to mask the weight of his confession. “But whatever. Not like it’s a big deal.”

It was only then that Sirius realized his knee was pressed against Remus’s, his fingers resting lightly on his friend’s leg. The touch was featherlight, almost incidental, but enough to send a jolt of awareness through them both. Sirius didn’t pull away. He hadn’t thought much of it at first—but now, he caught the flicker of something unreadable in Remus’s gaze.

“This... isn’t a good idea, Sirius,” Remus said at last, his voice quiet, almost swallowed by the music. But Sirius heard it—every word. And more importantly, he heard what wasn’t being said.

Sirius tilted his head, studying him with an intensity that made the space between them feel impossibly small. His careless confidence wavered, replaced by something raw, something fragile. “Why not?”

“You’re drunk,” Remus replied, though the words came out uneven.

“Maybe,” Sirius conceded, his tone softening. “But that doesn’t answer the question, does it?”

“You like girls, remember?” Remus shot back, though his voice lacked the usual bite.

Sirius gave a bitter laugh, low and hollow. He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You haven’t said anything yet that’s particularly persuasive.”

“You’re lonely,” Remus countered, his tone steadier now. “And I won’t be your punching bag just because you want a bit of attention and you think I’ll give it to you because you know I’m gay.”

The words hit harder than Sirius expected, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression sharpened into something else. But just as quickly, he smoothed it over with a practiced grin, his laughter brushing off the weight of the moment like a passing breeze.

“Forget I said anything, then..” Sirius said, forcing lightness into his voice as he leaned back and pulled away. 

He stood abruptly, his movements fluid but edged with restlessness. Without another glance, he slipped into the crowd, heading for the dance floor where the lights blurred and the music roared.

**

Peter stumbled, his clumsy attempts to keep up with the girls’ synchronized movements earning a round of teasing applause. Even Marlene laughed, a brief but genuine sound that seemed to lift the room.

At the edge of the dance floor, James watched it all unfold, his gaze lingering on Marlene. Something about the way her smile flickered, too fleeting to be real, pulled at him. With a breath, he stepped forward, reaching out to catch her hand mid-spin.

“Alright, Marls,” he said with an easy grin, “your turn to show me how it’s done.”

Marlene blinked in surprise but let him guide her, falling into a comfortable rhythm as they danced.

He twirled her gently, his tone dropping as he asked, “How are you?”

Marlene rolled her eyes, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Oh, just fantastic, James.” She flashed a sharp, half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

He tilted his head, giving her that familiar, piercing look that made it impossible to deflect.

She sighed, the tension in her shoulders softening slightly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get over everything. I’ll even get over him eventually.” There was a pause, a moment too long, before she added, almost too casually, “I got over you, didn’t I?”

James’s steps faltered, a flick of surprise than guilt crossing his face before he recovered. His grin faded slightly as his hand tightened on hers. “Marlene—”

“Don’t,” she said quickly, cutting him off with a wave of her free hand. Her tone was light, almost too light. “It’s ancient history, Potter. I’m over it.”

“I’m sorry, Marlene,” James said, his voice quieter now.

Marlene’s smile softened, the edges less sharp now. “I know, James. But it’s not your fault.” Her gaze flickered briefly to the other side of the room, where Sirius had just executed a ridiculous spin with Mary. “I just need time.”

James nodded slowly, his chest tight with an unfamiliar ache. Without thinking, he pulled her closer, his arms guiding her in a slow, steady movement, even though the upbeat disco track was still blaring. Marlene let her head rest against his chest, and the quietness between them was the most honest thing they had shared all night.

Meanwhile, across the dance floor, Lily stood frozen in the middle of the crowd, her eyes fixed on James and Marlene. Her heart clenched in her chest as she watched them move together, her mind racing with thoughts she didn’t want to confront. The way James held Marlene close, the way she leaned into him—a feeling she couldn’t quite name twisted in her belly, and Lily had to fight to push the jealousy down. She couldn’t deny it—it was there, sharp and uncomfortable, curling around her like a knot that wouldn’t loosen. As much as she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her thoughts spinning out of control. You’re going mad, Lily Evans. You can’t be jealous over James Potter. And you definitely can’t be jealous of Marlene. It’s insane.

She tore her gaze away, her breath a little too shallow, and forced herself to focus on the others, though the image of James and Marlene swaying together still lingered in her mind.