Mary
It was the Tuesday before they’d take their OWLs and Marlene was driving her mad. She had been banned from Quidditch by Professor McGonagall in order to try and make her actually do some revision but it didn’t seem to work. Instead, she went bouncing around the castle annoying her friends (although Mary was beginning to reconsider that particular title), bugging them with questions like why do you never see gingerbread houses like in the Muggle stories and how much do you bet that I can grate a carrot and then put it together again. Mary threw her quill at her after that last one.
So she was wandering around the castle trying to find a cool place to revise Divination, and her feet had led her to the steps which led out to the Great Lawn. She settled herself in the shade of one of the pillars and opened her textbook. The words blurred in front of her eyes. She yawned.
When Mary woke it was early evening, a soft breeze curling around her legs. A couple was making their way to the Quidditch pitches, talking quietly to one another. As she watched, one tipped their head back and laughed, a loud, familiar cackle that drifted towards her. The other, taller, in a faintly brown jumper (Mary wondered to herself how he could stand wearing it in this heat) turned towards him and ruffled their hair. Mary reached for her sketchbook and pencil and quickly drew it the scene. She wasn’t sure why, exactly, but there was something about it that she wanted to remember.
When she was done, the couple were out of earshot, but their hands were linked.
That night in the common room Mary had just finished helping to charm a spare piece of parchment over Marlene’s mouth in an effort to get her to shut up (Dorcas had said I can think of a better way to shut her up than that and Marlene had turned red) when the loud, familiar cackle drifted over to them. Mary looked up, and there was Sirius Black, in fits about something on the opposite side of the room. He tossed his head back, carelessly, and Remus (Mary was on first-name terms with Remus, seeing as how often he helped her with her Ancient Runes homework) looked up briefly from his book to gently ruffle his hair.
Something clicked inside her brain, a nice little oh moment. It was ruined by an annoying first year accidentally exploding the table next to them, but as she went up to bed she made sure to cast several protective spells on her sketch.
***
Peter
It was the last moon of the school year, in the middle of the July, after they’d finished their OWLs. They’d only recently shown Remus what they’d done, and he was at the same time extremely angry and extremely happy and disbelieving. (Peter was still trying to figure out how that worked). This was the second time they’d spent the full moon with Remus, but instead of going to sleep until breakfast like a normal person, Sirius had instead insisted on visiting Remus in the hospital wing. He’d argued with James until he was blue in the face, then they’d all squeezed under the Invisibility Cloak (Peter as a rat. Long gone we’re the days where they could all comfortably fit under it) and sneaked down to the hospital wing. They went noisily through the door (for it never occurred to James or Sirius to wait for the other person to walk through the door) and over to Remus’s designated area of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey was fussing about, applying murtlap essence and forcing potions down his throat, but on the whole she seemed pleased.
‘There!’ she said when she was done. ‘Not so bad this time, are you? Let’s hope it keeps up over the summer. Try to sleep, you’ve about an hour before breakfast.’
‘M’m’ Remus replied, then she bustled out. Sirius ripped the Cloak off them and Remus jumped, then jumped again as Peter appeared as a human.
‘Hull, Moony!’ Sirius grinned. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
’A strange coincidence indeed.’ Remus muttered. He glanced sideways at James and Peter, and shuffled over on the bed. Peter caught the very slight raising of eyebrows, the almost imperceptible chewing of lips. Then Sirius was kicking off his shoes and hoisting himself up onto the thin hospital bed beside Remus. Remus smiled, and Sirius smiled back, gently.
They stayed in the hospital wing, telling Remus what they’d gotten up to the night before in the Shack, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t notice Remus brighten up every time Sirius edged slightly closer to him, or how Sirius would practically glow whenever Remus would chuckle at the punchline of a (sometimes downright awful) joke. Eventually the bell for breakfast rang and James and Peter stood to go.
’You coming, Sirius?’ James asked.
’Nah, think I’ll stay here for a bit. Keep Moons company. I’ll see you in Transfiguration, though.’
’You’ll steal my breakfast, that’s what you mean.’ Remus snarked, and Sirius grinned.
’See you, then. We’ll save some Coco Pops for you, Remus.’ James said, eyes twinkling, and Remus rolls his eyes, because ever since James discovered he eats dry Coco Pops during the holidays he will not let it go. They leave the hospital wing much more quietly than they entered it.
When Peter looks back, he sees Remus curled up on Sirius’s chest, eyes closed. Sirius has one arm wrapped around him, a dopey expression on his face. Peter smiles.
(Sirius comes into Transfiguration twenty minutes late, hair messy, cheeks flushed and uniform rumpled, but doesn’t seem to mind at all when McGonagall takes five points off Gryffindor for tardiness.)
***
Lily
Lily had been convinced to stay with the Potters for the day before they got the train to Hogwarts for the beginning of sixth year and she was finding it amusing to say the least. James has spent the first hour of her arrival in his room, pacing. They’d made small talk about their holidays and OWL results, and conversation was just flagging when Sirius shoves a very reluctant James into the room. His hair is sticking up all over the place, his glasses have an almost aggressive shine to them and his face is pink. Lily exchanges a glance with Remus.
’Right,’ Remus says, after the silence had gotten too awkward. ‘Who wants to go swimming?’
James makes a strangled sound and glares at Remus. Lily laughs (James goes even more pink).
‘I did bring my swimming costume,’ she says, glancing at James and deliberately dropping her gaze up and down his body. James gapes at her, then blinks behind his glasses, owlishly.
’We don’t have to - I mean we can if you want to - I don’t mind - we can play Quidditch instead - but if you want to -‘
’Sure’ she says, batting her eyelashes at him in a way that makes her feel ridiculous. She glances at Remus, who’s buried his nose in his book (A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens) and is making odd little snorting noises from behind it. She looks back up and sees Sirius looking at him, a soft expression on his face. He sees her looking and blushes, very slightly.
‘Let’s do it.’ Lily says, smirking.
———
Half an hour later she’s walking over towards the lake (and it is a lake. Remus was not joking when he said the Potters were rich) where the four boys have gathered. Well, perhaps walking is an overstatement. Waddling would be more accurate.
’Right.’ she says. All four boy’s heads swivel around to look at her, and she watches as identical expressions of disbelief and astonishment appear on their faces. Or on most of their faces.
Remus is beside himself, laughing and laughing, tears rolling down his face. The other three turn towards him, furiously.
’You knew about this!?’ James splutters, face now tomato red. Remus nods. ‘Helped to make it.’
’Of course you fucking did, you bastard.’ James says grumpily. He continues to grumble good-naturedly about it as they dive into the lake.
Lily is dressed in a giant, yellow duck costume. It even has a hood which resembles a duck’s beak, and is her main reason for allowing Remus to convince her to come to the Potter’s for what he terms their ‘last day of freedom’. She jumps into the lake, splashing water into James’s face.
’Oi!’ he yells, then remembers who it he he’s talking to and goes a funny colour. If she’s absolutely honest, the effect she has on James also helped her decide to come here.
They spend the afternoon racing up and down the lake and dunking each other. Remus gives Sirius a piggyback (Lily watches as Sirius blushes as he suggests it), then James wants one, then Peter, then they’re organising a swimming-while-someone-is-on-your-back tournament. Lily agrees to umpire because ‘I don’t have a death wish, thank you very much’. She climbs out of the water and sits, shivering, on the side, costume clinging to her wet skin. Remus loses accidentally-on-purpose and hands her a towel.
’James won’t mind.’ he says. They watch the other three in the water, even when the tournament collapses and they go back to goofing around. At one point Remus goes inside and fetches his book, then lays down to read it. Sirius swims up and splashes them. Lily shrieks. Sirius smirks.
’Go and see how red you can turn James’s face.’ he says. Remus looks up from his book to give her an encouraging smile. So she does, flirting with him until his face is the same colour as the life jackets hanging on the side of the boat house (like she said: rich). Once, when James has disappeared underneath the water in a (futile) attempt to cool his face down, she glances to the shore and sees Remus, sitting up, cross-legged, looking at Sirius. Sirius says something and Remus chuckles, then reaches over to turn his face towards him and kisses him. Sirius rests his hand on Remus’s neck and then Lily realises she’s watching, and turns back to making James blush.
***
Marlene
It’s the annual Gryffindor welcome back party, except they’ve been back nearly a week because someone (ahem Lily Evans ahem ahem) refused to have a party on a school night. Marlene is more than making up for it, though. She’s smuggled in copious amounts of alcohol, both Muggle and magical, and intends to get everybody thoroughly drunk by midnight. Starting with herself. At the moment, though, it’s half ten and she’s reached a pleasantly tipsy stage of the evening. She wanders over to where Sirius and Remus are sitting very close together, cheeks flushed pink.
’Hello, hello, hello.’ she says, climbing over the back of the sofa and squishing in between them. She hands them each a glass and says ‘Firewhiskey’ as an explanation. Sirius thanks her politely and takes a sip; Remus downs his in one gulp. She can’t figure it out: she’s seen Sirius drunk loads of times, practically every time they have a party, but never once has seen Remus even slightly tipsy, even though he drinks more than her and Sirius combined.
’You ever been drunk, Remus?’ she asks, and he shakes his head. ‘Why not?’
’Don't like losing control.’ he says quietly, and Sirius reaches across Marlene to try and rub his shoulders. He can’t quite reach, so Marlene ruffles his hair instead.
‘I have.’ she announces, and Sirius says ‘Nah, what really? You? I don’t believe it.’
She scowls at him. ‘When did you become such a sarcastic little shit?’
But Sirius just smiles quietly and looks slightly past her left ear.
’Anyway. New school year - any aspirations?’
‘Aspirations?’ Remus asks, frowning.
‘It’s tradition, we always see compare what we want to achieve at the beginning of the year to how badly we fuck it up and the end. Last year I wanted to be the best dueller in the duelling club, and Sirius here wanted - well, he wouldn’t tell me what he wanted, just smiled and got a goopy look in his eyes. Disgusting.’ she adds, as an afterthought. ‘You may join in.’
’Thank you.’ Remus says solemnly, and somewhere in her alcohol-fuzzled brain it registers that she’s being made fun of. She opens her mouth to say something, but Sirius cuts in first.
So, what d’ya wanna do with yourself this year, Marls? Beat Slytherin in the House Cup? Stick every piece of furniture in the castle on the ceiling? Win the Quidditch Cup-’
James, in a spooky example of telepathy, cheers ‘Yes, Sirius, that’s the way we’re thinking!’ from where he’s sitting with Peter and Mary across the common room. Marlene ignores him.
’No, I don’t think so. This year shall be the year -’ she pauses for dramatic effect. ‘Of love. Yes, gentlemen. I shall finally turn Dorcas to the joys of the lesbianism. We will get married and have five cats and seven dogs and thirty-two fish and I don’t think we’ll bother coming back next year because we’ll be so happy and in love, and you will come to the wedding and cry.’ She grins, pleased with herself. ‘What ‘bout you, Remus? Anyone caught your eye?’
Remus mulls it over.
’No, can’t say anyone has.’
Sirius lets out a loud squawk and grabs a stray cushion to thump Remus with. Remus is laughing, cheeks going pink(er), but after a while he takes hold of the cushion and holds it high above his head.
’Alright, alright.’ he says. ‘I suppose someone has “caught my eye”.’
’Gonna do anything about it?’
’Already done.’ he and Sirius say in unison, then look across Marlene at each other with an expression on their faces that reminds her of how James looks at Lily.
‘Huh.’ she says. Then she sees Dorcas across the room, looking utterly beautiful in a yellow dress, and her mind goes pleasantly blank. ‘I have a sudden and not entirely unexplainable urge to go over there.’
‘Go get her, Marls!’ Sirius cheers as she leaves, and if she’d turned around she’d have seen Remus shuffle closer to Sirius, then lean forward as though he were going to kiss him, but then take a huge gulp of Sirius’s Firewhiskey. There is a quiet shriek and the familiar sound of a cushion being whacked against Remus.
***
Regulus
Every Saturday morning, come rain or shine, Regulus wakes at eight o’clock exactly. He dresses quickly and efficiently, then makes his way upstairs to the Great Hall, where he eats a breakfast of two slices of white bread toast with marmalade and a glass of apple juice. He ignores what few Slytherins are already at the table, and lets his gaze wander across the room. By the time he is in his fourth year, he knows everyone in the castle’s full name, blood status, friend group, which area of the country they live in and any allergies they might have. He has figured out the professor's rota for supervising Saturday breakfast, who has a grudge against who and who is stressing over their grades. Regulus doesn’t use this excess information most of the time. He just keeps it neatly filed away in his brain until it might be of use - for instance, when that Muggle-born Ravenclaw was struggling to understand why she was treated so badly by the older Slytherins, he found a book in the library explaining why some wizards thought blood status mattered, and sent it via a school owl to her. He watched as she read it, then a week after she’d finished he sent her a second, bigger volume, titled Spells for Defence Against Bigots. He watched as, for the next couple of weeks, the older Slytherins found themselves pinned against walls as invisible hands drew rude pictures on their faces. He watched as she looked, scrutinizingly, at each of the older members of the other three houses, trying to figure out who had helped her.
Never did she once glance at Regulus.
And he was fine with that, he told himself. He didn’t need the attention. He needed to keep his head down and get the best OWLs and NEWTs seen in the Black household for at least four centuries, then begin to gently influence his parents' minds. He was good at that - look at how he’d rejected their doubts to his faith in their (twisted, backwards, vomit-inducing) beliefs. Even Sirius - Sirius, who was the closest any person had ever gotten to him, Sirius who would give anyone the benefit of the doubt with the least provocation - thought he was just another of the purist, corrupt purebloods. And he was fine with that as well, he told himself. It wouldn’t be forever.
So he keeps an eye on Sirius, at first to make sure that he didn’t suspect, but after the summer before he went into fourth year and Sirius went into sixth he didn’t need to do that any more. Sirius had made that very clear. But he kept watching because it meant he could build up his walls higher and higher, if he knew Sirius was happy, and because there was something addictive about Sirius, about all the passion and energy that he put into something as menial as buttering his Remus (J. Lupin, half blood (mother Hope Lupin, Muggle, father Lyall Lupin, wizard, works at the ministry) werewolf (he isn’t blind), ‘Marauder’, North Wales, allergic to pure silver (obviously) and shellfish) ’s toast for him two days after the full moon. And he saw the way that Sirius looked at Remus, tender and concerned and full of love, and it made his heart ache and made him curse the heavens and the oceans for giving him such a godawful family. But Sirius didn’t know that - Sirius couldn’t know that, nobody could - so when he saw Lupin looking back at Sirius, half-exasperated, half-flattered, he got up and went to the owlery where he wrote
Lupin
Harm my brother and I’ll kill you slowly and painfully. I know how, believe me.
on a piece of parchment and charmed it to reveal itself only to Lupin and sent it to arrive the next day.
That Sunday Regulus felt eyes on his at breakfast and looked up to see Lupin looking at him thoughtfully, like he was a puzzle, and he met his eyes and had the uncanny sensation that Lupin could see straight through all of his walls to who he had been as a young child, to who he still was if you looked hard enough, and Lupin smiled quietly, as if saying don’t worry, I’ll look after him. When you’re ready you’ll be welcomed and Regulus abandoned his two slices of white bread toast with marmalade and glass of apple juice and walked in the Forbidden Forest and pretended that it was that easy to disappear from his life.
***
Dorcas
Dorcas had always been close with Lily, ever since she’d offered the scared little ginger the bed nearest the window on their very first night at Hogwarts. So it was to no surprise that, as they were making their way to the owlery to send their weekly letters home one day in late October, when the air was heavy with the promise of rain, that Lily slowed down and began to watch the group of sixth-year Gryffindor boys mucking about by the lake. Or, one in particular.
Two dark-haired boys, one with porcelain white skin and haughty cheekbones (although Dorcas couldn’t see them from here), one with smooth brown skin and glasses, were paddling in the lake, their hoots and cackles of laughter floating over to where they stood. Another, with curly brown hair and soft eyes, was lounging against a tree trunk, book open in his lap. The fourth was nowhere to be seen.
‘Why’ve we stopped?’ Dorcas asked, mostly to see the flush on Lily’s pale face. She scowled at Dorcas.
‘Shut up.’
’What a way to treat your closest friend, Lils.’
‘Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah.’
‘Ah, piss off.’
‘Gladly.’
But neither of them moved. Lily was still watching the boy with the hedgehog hair mucking about in the water. Dorcas followed her gaze.
The one with the porcelain skin (Sirius) had conjured a bucket from somewhere, and was scooping up water in it. He chucked it straight over the one with glasses (James) and his howl of surprise floated over to where they were standing. The boy sitting down (Remus) didn’t look up, just picked up his wand and shot a spell at James, which whistled around him and dried him off. Sirius was just filling the bucket a second time when Remus cast another spell, and the bucket floated over to him. A final wave of his wand and the bucket was something small, wrapped in something purple which glinted in the sunlight. Dorcas nudges Lily with their shoulder.
’C’mon, let's go and say hello.’
Lily scowls again, so Dorcas says
‘That attitude won’t get you anywhere with anyone.’
’Oh yeah? How’s Marlene? Haven’t seen her recently.’
Dorcas can feel their cheeks getting warm, so they grab Lily by the sleeve and drag her over to the boys. They can now see that Remus is eating a chocolate bar, wrapped in a purple wrapper. James brightens up visibly as they approach, and runs a hand through his hair.
‘Hey, people. Don’t mind if we stay here a bit, do you? Lils got a bit tired on the long, long journey from the tower to the owlery.’
Lily mutters ‘Fuck off.’
‘Sure!’ James says, cheerfully. ‘Stay as long as you want, just keep away from Sirius. He has discovered the joys of chucking water on people.’
Sirius scowls and crawls over to Remus.
‘It’s not fair, Moony. James is attacking my blameless, harmless character. We need to organise revenge.’
’Is that so.’ Remus replies, not looking up from his book. Dorcas has never figured out why Remus is called Moony. Whenever they ask, they get at least ten different complicated and altogether absurd answers.
‘It is so, Moony. It’s very, very so, and we need a plan of attack.’ Sirius crawls closer and closer to Remus.
‘Why don’t you try and think of one, and I’ll finish my book, yeah?’
There is a loud crack from the sky, and they all automatically look up. Fat raindrops begin to fall, and one lands in Dorcas’s eye, blurring their vision. A tongue of lightning licks down from the sky, and they scramble up.
‘Inside!’ James shouts over the roar of the rain. ‘Get inside!’
Dorcas heaves Lily to her feet and they run to the shelter of the castle, then turn and look back, panting. James seems to argue with Sirius, then pulls them both away from the tree and runs towards them, a square package tucked under his jumper.
‘Idiots wanted to stay out there.’ he says, barely out of breath. Dorcas sees Lily blink. By common consent they turn up the corridor that leads to the Gryffindor common room, and as Dorcas looks out the window, they see the idiots, close together on the Great Lawn, staring up at the sky. Sirius loops his arms around Remus’s neck and says something, and then Remus wraps his arms around Sirius’s waist. Sirius stands on tiptoes and touches Remus’s nose with his lips, then they’re properly kissing. Dorcas thinks of Marlene again as they turn away, and feels their cheeks grow warm.
***
James
James was never really sure when Sirius and Remus became Sirius-and-Remus. He was there for Sirius when he began to (tentatively at first, then gradually more boldly) question his sexuality, just like he was there for him after fights with Regulus, or in the middle of the night, after a particularly bad nightmare. Gay, straight, bisexual, whatever pronouns - James didn’t care. He would accept you whatever you were, no questions asked.
So he was there when Sirius crawled into his bed at half three in the morning, during a full moon, face white in the dim light of his wand, and said that it was very slightly possible that he had the slightest little crush on Moony. He was there to listen as Sirius rambled about his hair and his eyes and God, James, when he makes a ridiculously bad pun his little smile, he’s so proud of himself, you don’t understand, just as Sirius was there for him when he got into his fortnightly despair over Lily Evans, and that he should just chuck it all up and farm goats instead. And in the first few weeks he’d enjoyed teasing Sirius about it, making suggestive jokes in Remus’s company and laughing when he blushed and scowled and (on occasion) tackled him to the ground and whispered threats of serious bodily damage if he ever made these jokes again. (Privately he’d been impressed that Remus of all people could make Sirius blush, but on further reflection it made sense. Of course it would be Remus). But after a while he’d grown bored of it, and turned his attention to pranking Snivellous and working to become an Animagus (the youngest ever, thank you very much) and (unsuccessfully) wooing Lily Evans. It was easy to let the matter drift to the back of his mind, seeing as he was never aware of any dramatic unrequited pining.
But, looking back, he can see it happening. Slowly, in between lingering glances and inside jokes. They began to hang around each other even more than usual, even in as simple a way as Sirius swapping seats with James during dinner to be next to Remus. They teased each other, found excuses to touch the other one (‘It’s completely platonic, James.’ Sirius had said one evening in fifth year, when they were working on the Map together. ‘Trust me on this one, okay?’). Then it all stopped, quite suddenly, in the aftermath of the Prank last Easter. Even Lily Evans had noticed something was up, and had approached him to see if there was anything she could do to help, and he was so worried about his friends he only mentioned her voluntarily talking to him twenty-one times.
When they’d made up, they began the routine again. It was slower and less noticeable than before, or perhaps James was just more preoccupied with changes in his own life. By the time they’d sat their OWLs, something had shifted in their dynamic. It’d become kinder, more considerate of each other. They’d become closer, and Remus was happy in a way that James didn’t think that he’d ever seen before. So they were good for each other, and that was all James cared about.
In fact, he realised it most one memorable evening in the limbo-space after Christmas and before New Year of sixth year, when Sirius turned up drenched sweat and rain and tears and blood on his doorstep. He’d pulled him inside, given him a hug and helped him up to the bathroom with his best pyjamas. He’d lit the fire and put on the kettle and pulled out Madame Oakley’s Beginner’s Guide to Non-Magical Healing . When Sirius had come down, skin red from vigorous scrubbing and hair loose around his shoulders, he’d handed him a cup of tea and smothered him in a pile of blankets. Then he went off and woken his parents. His mum had asked if there was anyone who Sirius was most comfortable with who could come and be with him. James had nodded and gone to Floo Remus without a second thought (and, if Lily Evans had needed any confirmation of how much he’d changed and grown from the big-headed arrogant eleven year old he’d been in the first year, it was right there. He would have said that no, it was just him, he was the most important person in Sirius’s life). Remus had arrived with big circles around his eyes and bitten nails. He’d gathered Sirius into the biggest hug James had ever seen, then sat him down and let him cry into his shoulder. He stroked the back of Sirius’s neck and kissed his ears and whispered that he was sorry, that they’d all been so worried about him, that he was loved, and cared for, and anyone who thought otherwise could go fuck themselves. Sirius had met James’s eyes over Remus’s shoulder, and he nodded, once, then left them alone. When he looked back in later they were curled up together, feet tangled.