This chapter is dedicated to Melodie, my fellow strictly, easterners, tea and fish & chips enthusiast! I love you and hopefully one day we can meet!
Galaxyblackbird ♥️♥️♥️

(23rd June 1977)

Sirius Black didn't do well with things like this.

It's just a door-knocker.

He'd been standing in front of the door of the Potter's Retirement Estate for the past merlin knows how long trying to pluck up the courage to chap the knocker and go inside. He hadn't so much as spoken to Mrs Potter since he'd heard the news and of course he'd been worried– she'd something like six months according to the Healers and naturally Sirius had wanted to inquire his mother's health to James over the two way mirror but whenever they spoke he couldn't quite find the right words. He didn't feel very valiant for a Gryffindor and he'd never done well with emotions, after all.

It's only a door-knocker .

Although in that particular moment it felt like much more...
Euphemia had been the mother this barbarous world had failed to provide given him. He'd been gifted another family and they were behind that door-knocker, which might as well have been a million miles for the chore it felt to knock it.

"Sirius, how long have you been standing there?"

It was James Potter with a peculiar expression and concerned hazel eyes beneath rectangular spectacles. He pushed the door aside as if it were an inconvenience to him and with that gesture the daunting air to its majesty seemed to quash within a millisecond.

"Not too long." Sirius replied, not exclusively lying but one always found it was best to tell the truth where possible.

"Shite! You've been there ages, getting in a tizz, haven't you?" James raised an eyebrow in such a manner Remus might have been impressed by his efforts of insinuation.

"None of your business," was the rather poor defence taken by Sirius.

They walked through the relatively newly inhabited splendour of the place and Sirius recalled the charm it had about it. Despite it still being quite opulent it was much more sentimental than Potter Manor. This place had no ballroom, nor quidditch pitch or baroque garden. Instead it had opted for a lavish yet minimal effect; there was a kitchen, a cellar and balcony to replace the things missing. The library was smaller yet the armchairs were comfortable enough to sink in the rest of your days and never stop.

The staircases were minimally grand and they didn't stretch farther than the eye could see like they used to in the other residence, but instead it coiled handsomely up to a more manageable height that wouldn't induce vertigo if one looked down from the top.

The halls were peppered with portraits and paintings of multiple mediums but the  corridors were narrower and the floors were a dark wood, not marble.
All the same the home was magical beyond the floating candles and the domestic chores taking care of themselves.

Euphemia Potter was in the library, nestled in a chair, looking the sheer picture of serenity in a fashion that was so unlike the astir woman that he almost mistook her for Halina– the old Governess that used to work at Potter manor when James was a child and occasionally came to visit over the holidays.

"Sirius! You got back safe!" She smiled, her eyes showing her age for the first time in a long while. They looked like, in the space of a day, all the excitement was bled out them with the promise that her eventual death brought.

"Mum."
His voice was faint, almost a whisper or a choke as he gazed at her, unsure if he should be happy she was smiling or angry she was lying behind her expression. It was easier to lie to oneself if they couldn't see directly though the lie like freshly polished glass.

Mrs Potter stood up from her armchair, much more laboured than she used to be, and held her arms out to her second son who rushed at the chance to be close to her. If not to console her, then himself.

"Don't worry about me. I'm old, dear," she stroked the back of his head maternally in a way that when Sirius first arrived at the Potter's he might have flinched at. But not anymore. Now he wished she might never let him go.

"Can't help it, mum," he replied into her shoulder before she moved away to hold him at arms length.

"You've got taller, I can tell."

He blushed, grinning bashfully, "James'll get a kick out of that."

And he did. James was doing his best to stifle a chuckle behind his hand, "I mean... I wouldn't use the word 'tall' too lightly, mother," he said, "I'd play it safe and go for less elfish."

"Oh shut up, James!"

"Mum!"

"James!"

Sirius smiled. This. This was what he was going to miss...

After a while the two boys found themselves in their bedroom, lounging on respective beds at either end of a mahogany nightstand.

"Esme-Leigh said she'd drop round tomorrow to see you. She's been worried sick on top of testifying for Trudy and the like. In fact, I don't think she even went for a run like she normally does in the mornings."

James stopped twirling his wand long enough to throw Sirius a meaningful glance.
"Are you saying it was a mistake I came home early?"

"Not at all." He was quick to reply, running a hand through his shoulder length hair in a type of way that would make anyone swoon. "But a bit of warning would have been lovely. It wasn't just Esme; even Peter ate less than usual."

"He must have been cut up about my sabbatical."

"Oh very."

They stared at each other in all seriousness for a grand total of two and a half seconds before erupting in fits of laughter. That was the thing with Sirius and James; if the apocalypse came they might still find a reason to laugh about something or other.
That was why they'd become such fast friends, nothing was ever dry with the other. Everything was done together. And that was the way that it would stay.

And perhaps that was why they noticed things the other didn't. Like the fact Remus seemed to brood after he'd caught Sirius flirting with another boy; or that Esme-Leigh seemed to prefer nestling next to James rather than anyone else in their little group while they sat in the common room. She was naturally physical, and was Remus naturally broody; but it was these slight differences that the other noticed. And they noticed because, in some respects, they were the only ones that could. They were two sides of the same coin– or rather the same side they were that close. Regardless, the world wouldn't turn for one without the other.

♣ ♣ ♣

(24th June 1977)

Esme-Leigh sat in front of her bedroom mirror, switching hair colour every so often before insouciantly disregarding it and choosing another. She had a pretty face, some might have said perfect and yet she didn't like it. She was sick of perfect. It was beguile and it disgusted her.

She'd promised Sirius she'd go to see James, under the alias that he needed looking after through she was fairly certain Sirius knew that it wasn't for James' benefit that she promised to see him. Sirius could see through anyone when it came to James. Even James himself...

Esme-Leigh's mother rarely called her from the other end of their handsome, angular house; she mostly expected her daughter just to know where she was to be at all times through some force of telepathy. Surprisingly enough she's gotten good at sensing when she was needed and so (with coral pink hair) she made her way down the stairs with a slight temper in her sluggish steps.

"Bonjour maman, ça va, aujourd'hui?"

"Bien ma chérie!" Her mother smiled, her voice like whiskey and her smile as smooth as silk wound by angels.
Vianne Bisset was beautiful like her daughter, with skin like uncracked porcelain and hair like golden treads. Her veela blood made it nearly impossible to determine her age if one didn't know it, she looked thirty and eighteen all at once and celestial for it. As of that moment she was busing herself in the kitchen.

Most things in the Bisset house had an 'off' feeling about them. It was a happy home, make no mistake, and yet everything seemed unsettlingly serene, domestic bliss.

"Did you need me?" Esme asked her mother, automatically picking up a dishcloth and drying the plates as they came.

"I didn't even 'ave to ask," Vianne smiled, enjoying the discomfort on her daughter's reluctance to partake in domestic chores. She was not a housewife by any means.

Minutes rolled by saying nothing. There wasn't much to be said despite Esme's clear discomfort and desire to leave. She knew her father to be at church and so needn't have asked, she knew her mother was to go to the muggle market later that day and so didn't enquire about her plans; the only member of the family unaccounted for was herself. And so, finally choosing a topic of conversation, Esme-Leigh spoke:
"Maman, I'd promised James I'd pay him a visit. His mother isn't fairing well and so I said I'd keep him in good company for the day."

Vianne turned her attention from the dishes to glance at her daughter and her blushing, freckled cheeks.
"Very well. But you'd better get dressed and change that dreadful hair of yours, c'est répugnante, ma fille!"

"Mum!" Her drawl came out as a whine but Vianne pretended not to notice.

"I don't care, change it before you leave it's not sensible."

Esme-Leigh rolled her eyes but did not argue, instead she ran her hand through her hair and let it turn a dour shade of chestnut.

"Ahh, génial!"

She marched away after that, to get properly dressed, muttering a multitude of colourful curses in a duo of languages.

Despite the curses, however, she couldn't ignore her mother's call just as the door was open and full of opportunity.
"What is it?"

"Bisous." She tapped her cheek as Esme scurried back across the kitchen to kiss it.

"Au revoir, maman, je t'aime"

The weather in Cokeworth was much better than that in Bristol and so she slightly regretted her choice of outfit, shrugging off her denim jacket before she even reached the door of the Potter's new home, which, oddly enough, she hadn't yet visited.

Sirius answered the door, slinging his own battered leather jacket over his shoulder as he did so.
"Ah, the baby-sitter has arrived. The bundle of joy is in the bedroom watching muggle telly. Do what you please just make sure he gets his nap time, okay?"

"Padfoot?"

"What?"

She shoved him into the wall the other side of the door and he hit the coat rack with a clatter and a thud, followed by an almighty whine.

"–shut up. Now, where are you going?"

"Just into town with mum. I said I'd meet her there." He replied, dusting himself off from such an undignified fall while Esme-Leigh tried not to giggle.

"Is he alright?"

"Oh Dandy! Just swell!" His laugh was caustic but not cutting and so she didn't take offence, instead she shot him a look which conveyed just how much she would like to throw him into the coat rack again.

"Clear off before I hit you."

"Ten-four." He saluted her and was off on his way.

Now with the absence of Sirius the house felt awfully large and empty. It was more compact than the manor by all senses of the word but at least she knew how to navigate that big house. With this place it was different. As she came in there was a staircase large enough to fit a procession of elephants if it weren't spiralled and lined with a gold glimmer sent from a chandelier above her head which caught the summer light spectacularly.

"James?" She called, making her way up the staircase and watching the white gleam of the crystal shapes the chandelier made; like a mercenary disco ball.

"James, darling, where art thou?" She tried again, turning up the spirals, careful not to miss his bedroom door.
Not a moment later she heard the faint sound of a James' favourite musical playing from behind the door to her left– High Society.

Running her hand through her hair once more she changed it out of its boring brown and back to its coral pink before entering his bedroom.
"Prongs?"

He didn't reply and it took her a moment to discover where he was buried under a set of blankets (despite the stifling heat) and clearly dressed underneath.
She inched closer to him until she was standing by the foot of his bed, smiling.

He looked angelic and agonised all at once. His eyes fixed on the little screen and if it weren't for the way he had turned when she first came in, it would have been impossible to tell if he knew she was there at all.

Wordlessly (at first) she clambered next to him on the bed, not bothering to pull the blanket over herself to avoid liquidising, or getting sunstroke of some sort; but it only took a second before James tucked her under his arm and the blanket.

"This is my favourite number," she commented quietly into his ear as they watched the characters dance wildly along the television.

"Mine too. Grace Kelly carries the whole thing if you ask me." He replied, his voice wasn't quite as rhapsodic as it tended to be when discussing musicals, specifically High Society.

As they lay there she allowed her hands to run through his hair and they lulled into a silence in which Esme-Leigh realised that they didn't quite fit perfectly together. He was tall and she wasn't– it might have worked if she'd been small but she wasn't that either and so they didn't quote slot into the perfect proportion but by this time in her life Esme was sick of perfect. She'd been cursed with perfect her whole life and just for once it was refreshing to have something that wasn't and never would be completely and utterly perfect. That, to her, was the reason she glanced at James more often than she should or smiled a little too wide when he told a joke. Not because he was perfect for her but because he wasn't. He wasn't perfect and it was everything she ever wanted...

(26th June 1977)

Her window never bored her as long as there was good music or ample company to surround her whilst she wished away the hours watching the people strolling by.
That particular Thursday afternoon she had both: Dorcas wandered round her bedroom, every so often breaking into another rant about Donna (a.k.a The bitch after my job) on the track team or exclaiming her love or distain for a certain track on the album playing. At that particular moment it was her love for the Album Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, specifically the track Songbird.
"I just think it's message fits so well with the melody and I—"

"—do you ever wonder what'd be like to start again?" Lily spluttered suddenly, "Just where no one knew your name or... anything. Just... do you ever wonder what'd be like if you weren't Dorcas Rae Meadowes?"
(Despite enjoying the company that didn't mean she always had to listen to it. Her train of thought was often hard to track down. Not even the greatest mastermind on earth might be able to tell where her arbitrary strings of daydreams might lead or be at a particular moment.)

Dorcas paused, not at all hurt that she'd been cut off –she was used to speaking to deaf ears by now– but instead taken aback by how sudden a question of that calibre seemed to occur.
"Lily, where did you—"

"Don't ask. Answer."

She frowned, "I... sometimes, I suppose."

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't Lily Evans," Lily murmured to the window pain, Dorcas was more of a conversationalist than the glass to Lily. Sometimes she might as well have left and Lily's schmooze would still be equally as interesting.
"I think I'd like to have a new name. Like... Lily Simpson, or something, instead. Lily Evans hasn't done much for me over the years. Perhaps Lily Simpson would be a better help?..."

They were quiet for a moment as Songbird drew to a close and the only other sound was the sweet wind chimes of next doors garden in which a plethora of metal chimes twinkled from their trees.

Lily didn't move from her desk, arms folded and chin resting on top, watching life pass her by in more than once sense while Dorcas stood still too, admiring the way the record crackle before the track changed.

"Lily Evans?"

She turned to face her best friend, red hair that had brightened by the sun swept over one shoulder from the whip of her head, "what?"

"You're utterly insane, you know?"

She laughed mellifluously. "First of all: it's Lily Simpson to you. Secondly: I'm fully aware."

And they laughed after that.

♥ ♥ ♥

(27th June 1977)

The sky was a spectacular blue that June afternoon. The sun beat down shyly, hidden behind wisps of low cloud that stretched like cotton wool across the horizon, circling the hillside in the distance of Cokeworth.

Dorcas leant on the bus stop with an air of casualness as she waited for her girlfriend to arrive. Marlene was nearly always fashionably late and so she didn't expect much less. The heat made her thankful for the dark blue shorts Lily had leant her (along with a belt she'd forgotten to give back about a hundred years ago).

There was a gentle tap on her shoulder, breaking her thoughts.
"Guess who?"

If Dorcas had turned any faster she might have gotten whiplash, or amounted a serious amount of fractures in her neck.
"MARLENE!" She cried, launching herself into her girlfriend's arms and kissing her shoulder, neck, cheek and just about any part of her she could reach.
"Oh my god, I've missed you so much!"

Marlene laughed, holding on equally as tightly, so much so her circulation was at risk.
"I've missed you too."

Being back with Dorcas was like being able to breathe again after living underwater for months. Just being around her the world seemed to brighten up and all the colours seemed just a little bit more arresting.

Dorcas pulled her head back just enough to kiss Marlene softly but no less vivaciously. She still tasted like strawberries and mint and her hair still smelt like coconuts.

She smiled radiantly, Marlene thought she looked like a sunbeam had been reincarnated in her heart.

"I love you, Dee. You know that?"

She kissed her once more, "I'll never forget it. I love you more."

Their bus arrived as if it were scripted, pulling to a stop just as they pried themselves away from each other, and became two people again.

"To town please," Marlene plopped a few coins on the bus driver's counter with an award winning smile, her blue eyes the picture of innocuousness.

"Go on ahead."

She reached out for Dorcas' hand and they found a seat near the back.
"Where is it we're going again?"

"Wherever you want to go," she replied, fixing her black sunglasses on top of her blonde beach waves, which rippled along her back like waves themselves.

"I've got an idea, but you can't back out once I tell you," Dorcas grinned, squeezing her girlfriend's hand in sheer excitement, showing pearly white and somehow astoundingly straight teeth.

"I promise I won't, where is it?"

No reply.
"Dorks?"

"Well I'm not going to just tell you am I? That'd be boring!"

Marlene smirked, "I like your style."

The bus ride wasn't long (discrediting the horrendously old ladies that held up the entire bus for much longer than Marlene had the patience for) but they got off in good spirits, having caught up with the aspects of each other's lives that weren't poured out in their letters.

The town centre wasn't overly large but there was a lot of weird and wonderful things to do. A little antique looking cinema that only showed black and white movies was at the end of the high street; a larger one with new releases wasn't far off; there was a multitude of cafes, bars and restaurants lined across the streets and a variety of different charming little privately owned shops.

"So, where's this surprise then?"

Dorcas chuckled, shaking her head elegantly to allow a bundle of curls to settle round her shoulder as she laughed, prettily, at Marlene.
"I'll show you."
Without further ado she grabbed her hand and pulled her down the Main Street; lacing in and out all sorts of other people like they were some sort of inconvenient maze that needed to be navigated.
The turned a few corners, took a shortcut and must have bumped into at least three people but they didn't stop giggling and scurrying until they reached Dorcas' destination. The roller-skating rink.

"What about it, eh?"

Marlene laughed at her childishness but it would have been tripe if she said the prospect didn't excite her to an even more puerile degree.
"I think it's fantastic!"

And so they found themselves clutching onto each other, slipping and falling every so often and laughing till they cried. It had often been like this with the two of them. They might have been separated from each other for months but the second they were together it felt like it had always been like that.

"Mar-LENE!" Dorcas shrieked through an attack of laughter as her girlfriend attempted to spin round like some of the professionals on the rink who were circling and spinning like figure skaters.

"What?" Came a bashful reply from the floor followed with a giggle.

"You're mental."

"What else is new, lovely?"

♥ ♥ ♥

(27th June 1977 continued)

A bowl of ice cream sat between the two girls an hour or so later; time seemed to pass differently in each other's company.

Indulge cafe wasn't special by any means other than sentimental to Dorcas and so Marlene rarely understood why she loved the place so much.

"What is it about this place that's so special?" She asked over a spoonful of honeycomb ice cream (which she only chose because the smell made her unreasonably appeased).

Dorcas looked around, smooth brown eyes absorbing an ambiance that, as far as she was concerned, was unmatchable.
"I don't know. It's just always been the place we go to. The waitress, Caroline, she gives us free food sometimes and they let Alice and Lily put up their photography displays– that one went up last week," she pointed to the wall decorated with colourful wildflowers of all sorts of colours and types, quite picturesque it was safe to say.

"It's a smashing display, might I add,"
Marlene said with the sort of smile that had featured in Dorcas' dreams.

"They'd appreciate that." They shared a smile that conveyed more than a thousand words really needed to.
"So, isn't a cafe your crowd's thing?" Dorcas inquired with interest.

Marlene laughed, thinking of the nights spent in the marauders dorms or in pubs, with a bottle of firewiskey passed between them, playing marauders dares or something similarly dangerous.
"Dear god no, my lot are more the 'get-piss-drunk-and-do-something-stupid-bunch'. The preferred hangout is a random pub we'll get kicked out from –if we can manage to sneak out of school– or the dorm rooms. Not the most conventional, nor convivial choice of passive activity but it's fun. You need to come with us one of these nights. We've got ages before September, and they're all dying to meet you."

"Really?"

"Are you kidding?! James and Esme have a bet going to see which one of them you'll like the most!"

Dorcas blushed and Marlene took her hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.
"Trust me. They'll adore you; even Peter who's shy enough for all of us, and Remus who has a tendency to be repelled by most humans and their nature," she stared fondly out the window as she spoke, "you'll love them too."

"I hope so. And Lily has promised me she'll come too... well she hasn't yet but she will. I'll get Alice and Frank to come too, you'll love them, they're sweethearts but be warned they're a nauseatingly happy couple."

"What, like us?"

"Worse."

"But not as hot though?"

"Never!"

And so they decided to meet later that week, hearts filled with joy, love and anticipation.

(29th June 1977)

James'd had enough of sulking. It was eating him up quite frankly. As Sirius had so eloquently reassured him, his mother 'isn't going to die out of spite when you don't know about it. So you might as well be free to lark around while you can.'
And it was for this reason that he was found meandering around the house, specifically focused on the door. The rest of them were coming round that day as they'd planned to have a capital time in London (so to speak). He felt like doing something crazy that night.

"Don't you look spiffing?!" James endeared, opening the door for Marlene McKinnon who seemed to be glowing.
"How was the date?"

Marlene grinned, looking absolutely beautiful in the black skirt James remembered buying for her last year (which she promised to pay him back for but, truth be told, he didn't mind at all).
"Amazing! I'll tell you in great detail when I'm drunker but I've told her you lot are going to meet her in a couple days."

"Splendid. Now are you coming in or are we going to freeze our arses off?"

She shot him a grin that would frighten Lucifer.
"I thought I'd have a smoke. Coming?"

James rolled his eyes and pulled his leather jacket off the rack, "stupid question, McKinnon." He followed her outside whilst grumbling about the injustice of having very little self control.

She stopped at the end of the path, the moon (a handsome crescent, fortunately for poor Moony) and pulled out a box of cigarettes, took one out herself and held a second towards James which he caught in his teeth.

"You rarely have a full pack," James commented offhandedly, exhaling the beguile beauty in a mysterious, broody sort of way.

"Jasmine got me in the habit of buying my own since she's been nicking them off everyone else for years, specifically yours," Marlene glanced at his face which was displaying a fond sort of smile. "I've come to realise how annoying it is and so I endeavour to have my own with me."

"Well done. It's a rather miserable brag, isn't it?"

"Oh, I'd imagine so."

They chuckled then, taking in the night air before their next member of the party arrived with a crack.
Remus Lupin gave them a wave as he sauntered over.

"Quick, destroy the evidence!" Muttered James into his companion's ear who snorted in a rather undignified sort of way as she stamped out the butt of her cigarette.

"Evening chaps, fine night for it," Remus saluted them with an air of nonchalance that only Remus seemed to be able to achieve. He squinted up to the cloudless night before cracking a quick smile, "anyone fancy getting piss drunk? I rather enjoy that on a slim moon. Takes decades off a werewolf like myself."

"I intend on getting well and truly sloshed, don't you worry about that." James replied, slapping Remus' back with a mischievous grin.

"Last time you said that was when we had the Christmas party and you pissed off and pulled Ikra Patel!" Marlene interrupted, snatching the still lit fag from James' mouth and taking the final drag before stamping that one out as well.

"Oi!"

"Baby! C'mon, lets go inside and wait for Esme-Leigh and Peter. Shan't be long, I'd imagine." Remus, quite gallantly, took the shoulders of his two riled up friends and guided them back to the house.

"Did they fall out? I told you not to let them alone together," Sirius scolded as Remus marched the two dissenters in the door.

"No they've fallen out with me. I've wronged them, practically forced Marlene to steal his fag. I should probably be arrested on site."

"Yes you should!"

"Enough, children!"

They mainly just bickered to pass the time until Peter and Esme-Leigh arrived within five minutes of each other.
"Evening m'dear! How is yourself?" James bowed low when he let Esme through, in the sort of manner that could only have been practised by a Potter.

"Can't complain. My mums gone off her nut though. She thinks I've gotten a taste for going out," Esme rolled her eyes (which she'd shifted from her usual blue to an iridescent purple that matched her hair).

"And have you?" Remus asked, supporting an uncharacteristically smart-arse smile.

"Naturally. I've been friends with the marauders for most my school career. I'd be mad not to have a taste for it," she cleared her throat and slumped on the sofa next to James, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, "so is it Muggle or wizarding London this eve?"

"I'd say dapple in both?" Peter offered and looked rather pleased with himself when Sirius vigorously agreed.

"Shan't argue with that. Shall we set off?"

"I just got here!"

"Exactly," Marlene pointed a finger at her, "you're late."

"Va te faire foutre!"

Sirius chuckled, "charming, Bisset. Just charming."

"I try."

♣ ♣ ♣

(29th June 1977 continued)

Marauders Dares was a peculiar event, mainly a game for the audacious and mainly celebrating the loss of one's dignity tied with a fetching bow. It tended to consist of participants gradually getting drunker and, in turn much more stupid in regards to what they might regret in the morning and yet they did it every time.
The way it worked was fairly elementary and rather brilliant: it's objective was not to be skint or dead by sunup. The rules were short.
Number one: a marauder chooses an opponent who is given a dare.
Number two: Once the dare has been decided, the other members of the game will place bets for, or against, the marauder.
Number three: The player with the highest bet will be accepted.
Number four: If the chosen marauder completes the bet, the dare-giver and marauder will both split the money.
Number five: the loser has to drink an alcohol of the winners choice (usually whatever is at hand).

This particular game begun –like all good games do– with James seducing the bartender upon taking the first dare given by Sirius who reckoned he'd be able to have her enthralled within twenty minutes. Remus however valued his faith in humanity and liked to entertain the notion that the pretty bartender might have a little more respect for herself. The wager wasn't the biggest they'd had –six galleons– but Sirius surmised that three galleons each between him and James wasn't that bad for the beginning of the night.

So far things were looking good for Sirius, the bartender (a pretty blonde with peachy skin and a flirty smile) was giggling like she was at the Apollo to whatever mildly amusing (at best) anecdote James had just fed her.

"I might as well take these gallons now, Moony. Accept defeat he's smoother than scotch whiskey," Sirius smirked, sliding the modest pile of coins closer to his side of the table and watching with delight as Remus flared up, his honey eyes roaring with apologia.

"This is just the first bet. I've lost more money than this on a game of Marauders Dares."

Marlene laughed over her drink, "Sirius is holding the record for most money lost so I don't know what he's smug about."

"Shut up! It's not my fault I believed in Peter!"

This triggered Peter to look up from his trance of the tantalising muggle bar, "maybe it is? You should know by now I'm not quite as impulsive as you and therefore have a sense of pain, or..." he paused caustically, "potential death."

Padfoot scoffed, turning his head away with a flourish and surveying the bar once more, "potential death my arse!"

"I ain't kidding, Sirius, I—"

"—shut up, Prongs is coming back!" He held a silencing hand in front of Peter's face, who had to lean back into the booth to void being slapped from his friend's poor judgement of distance.

James sat down, looking a mixture of coquettish and smug. He took his time to get settled in between Esme-Leigh and Remus.

"Well?"

He caught the bartenders eye and winked; when she blushed and looked away Remus began to huff, knowing full well the two boys were bound to spend a considerable amount of time gloating.
"Her name's Stella, she's eighteen, and she's a history student..." he paused for what was clearly dramatic effect, "oh and her number is in my pocket."

"Shut up!"
Remus threw one of the coins at each of them respectively in retaliation.

Sirius rubbed his hands together in delight, much like a super villain would stroke a cat, "so Prongs, could you spare Remus a swig of that vodka you so kindly brought to the table?"

"To me," Remus held his hand out and snatched the bottle, taking an impressive swig without breaking unusually intense eye contact.

"Well... I hated that." James said once he'd managed to look away, my turn next:" it only took him a second to concoct the perfect dare...
"Ez, see if you can get the same guy to buy you a drink twice, posing as two different people."

Esme-Leigh grinned, she was often just like Marlene in the sense that she could never turn down a challenge.
"Which guy?"

"The good-looking bloke at the bar. I heard him talking to Stella whilst I was up there and he seems like an absolute prick."

"Shouldn't have asked. Marlene, may I borrow your jacket?"
She darted her eyes around the room once before slipping into the dimmer light of the booth and switching her hair to a cheap looking blonde and her eyes ashy blue; she wiped her freckles clean and took off her glasses.

"What?" She shrugged at the look Sirius was giving her, "James said he was a prick. This is usually their type." She left without another word.

"Well... I bet she's set the bar too low. And I get that blokes are stupid," (Marlene ignored the looks) "but she's wearing the same clothes. There's no way he won't notice. Five galleons."

James smirked, he enjoyed a bet. "Six, she'll do it."

"Eight she won't."

"Ten."

"Done."

Both parties shook hands and the bet was made. (It took Marlene under half an hour to become five galleons up and Esme and James got a little drunker).

And so the games continued. They got thrown out of two pubs, barred completely from another and left about five for the simple reason that most of the regulars looked like pricks.

Despite losing the first round, Remus seemed to be doing well for himself as well as Marlene while Sirius and Peter were losing, big time.
"If he falls on his arse, I'm... not taking him home." James insisted whilst watching at an intoxicated Sirius Black dance the bar of the current pub (once again muggle) to the sound of Queen blasted out the jukebox.

"Leave that to R-Remus," Marlene spluttered, her drunkenness making quite an impact on her dialect.

"Oh! You noticed?" James frowned at his companion as they stood alone together watching their friend make an absolute mess of himself.

"How couldn't I? He's so green with jealousy he might be a... a... a Slytherin?"

"Iloveya but n-not your best."

"Hmf."

"I'm gonna go for a smoke, m'kay?" He didn't wait for a reply before shoving his way out, sloppily, losing, slightly, his usual grace and tact that he possessed.

He shunted the door open, cursing heavily as it came back to hit him when he walked passed it and into the summer night air.

"Having trouble?" Came a voice.

"Not at all."

Stella from the first bar smirked at his loss of dexterity; only slightly charmed by his new persona.
"Fancy meeting you here?"

"Small world."

Stella smiled a smile that could kill a man (or anyone for that matter) and chuckled lowly, in the sort of way that flattered James but did not make him fall in love; although he suspected that his own charm was having the similar effect on her– nothing beyond a little excitement. But he lived for it; he nearly always had, and so when he lit his cigarette he offered her one with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Don't you mind?"

"I insist."
And so they smoked together.

"It was a dare," James said after a moment of uneasy quiet.

"What?"

"To chat you up. I just thought you should know."

Stella was timid for a second. Not a meek quiet, rather a calculated thoughtful quiet. Until she turned to face him, allowing him to study her matte looking eyes, they didn't really sparkle but they weren't by any stretch of imagination soulless at all.

"I know. I saw your mate laughing."

"Which one?"

"The hot one."

He laughed, turning away and flicking his cigarette ash on the street pavement.
"Well played. One - nil."

Stella took a long drag from her borrowed fag and watched it collide with the air for a moment, rather enjoying the beauty of it all. Of course smoking was bound to kill her one day but the joy of it was, that it was too far away to care about in that moment. No doubt one day she would curse herself but right now the day in which she would die seemed a mile off. It was none of her concern; the future could, quite frankly, fuck itself.

"I knew but I still allowed it."

"I still wanted it," James shrugged in reply, using his spare hand to run it through a mop of knee-jerking raven curls.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?"

"Is it working?"

She thought for a moment while he studied her, head cocked to the side in a very agreeable fashion.
"Unfortunately, yes."

They continued like this; in lacklustre conversation, for at least half an hour before they weren't talking anymore. Her back was against the stone wall and he was kissing her in the shadows.
Not long later she pointed behind her, towards a flat just across the road and James wasn't seen until morning...

(30th June 1977)

Lily had taken a habit of cycling most places. She'd been gifted a blue bike for her Christmas two years ago and since then she hadn't really needed a car (despite having been promised driving lessons from her father the day she turned seventeen).

Cycling was easier, she could go more places with access to both pavements and roads (not that Cokeworth had much in the way of 'places' to offer) and it also gave her time to think. Open air did wonders for most anything, she'd learnt that more than a while ago.

On that particular day the notion was reinforced by the breezing cycle she took to Alice's house. The open air was running through her hair in such a fashion that Lily wished she'd never arrive at the bungalow so she could bask in its liberating reign for longer.

Although perhaps if she had taken the long way round to Alice's and enjoyed the sensation longer then she wouldn't have cycled past them.

They was a small group of four boys. The tallest had a mop of wavy dirty blonde hair and a lanky build; he stood next to a rather handsome, sizeably smaller boy with dark hair and a glint in his eye that suggested he wasn't the type to meet ones parents. The third was stout with platinum blonde curls that sickeningly reminded her of Petunia but the fourth was something else all together –or at least that was the case for Lily– he could only really be described as an Adonis. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and he wore rectangular specs that gave him a defying sort of arrogance and intellectually that she found only too alluring. He was smiling at something the tallest boy had said (although they might have been the same height, it was difficult to tell) and she could see him shine from across the road.

As though he feel her lecherous gaze on him the boy turned. They locked eyes and Lily forgot what breathing was.
He winked at her in the sort of way that made her recoil at the thought that it was likely not the first time he'd winked at an admirer before. He made a clicking sound with his tongue when he winked that made it seem all the more repulsively attractive, this boy clearly operated well.

Without really meaning to, she slowed down, watching the group with intrigue for a few moments before they disappeared from sight and she was hit with reality (or rather a bump in the concrete) that shook her bicycle off balance which she wasn't paying much attention to.
The handlebars shook as she struggled for a split second to compose herself and return to the smoothness of normal riding.

Once she'd rode by, her mind had seemed to be wiped clean like a software glitch and any previous trains of thought perished without a funeral. Where had they come from? Why hasn't she seen them before? And she was positive that the boy she'd seen lived in the big house down the road...

Lily shook herself. Alice would laugh at her for being this way and it couldn't go down to aloof daydreaming anymore seen as the 'dream' had now taken on a form worth laughing about. The boy from the big house (as he was now referred to as) was taking up rather too much time in her head and it was becoming a problem. It had never been a problem before.

♥ ♥ ♥

(29th June 1977 continued)

She arrived home, late, to a phone call from Dorcas.
"What's wrong?"

The other end crackled for a moment before the soothing sound of Dorcas' drawl voice filled the receiver, "Marlene just phoned and she told me her friends want to meet me tomorrow."

"Well isn't that great?"

"Of course but you don't honestly think I can do that on my own?"

Despite turning away from the receiver it was clear that her sigh was audible, "no. You want me to come don't you?" Her voice was strained from the lateness of the hour and slightly ticked off at the crippling co-dependence of her best friend.

"Of course I want you to come! Please Lily?"

"Fine. Alice and Frank are coming too aren't they?"

"Naturally."

"Right... see you tomorrow then, Dorks."

The line was quiet for a second and Lily feared Dorcas had hung up prematurely without saying goodbye but eventually her voice could be heard: "love you?"

"...love you too."

Ten minutes later she was in the comfort of her bedroom, wondering why one might ever want to leave such solitary confinement.
She couldn't help letting her mind wander to the boy from earlier that day. He was pretty –of course he was– but why he stuck in her mind? She had no idea.

She sat on her desk chair, and faced the window. Moonlight was peculiarly poetic) to most people and she was no exception. It seemed to stand out as an ashy purple against the orange of the street lights gets in which it was possible to see the dust floating in their beams.

It was the orange of the street light that illuminated something's that she might otherwise have missed. Some people were made for the shadows while others did well in the light. This figure looked like neither. He was recognisable in the sense that he was everywhere, the postman, the waiter, cab driver, cashier... or the man one sees in a cafe on display day...

She couldn't see his face, conveniently it was obscured by the allure of shadows but she'd read enough old novels to know the devil took on many forms...

She supposed he must have been the devil, although, despite being told to beware of the storybook wolves she desperately wanted to dance closer to the danger. Perhaps she was just insane...

(29th June 1977)

It was late when the tap at the window awoke James Potter from a reasonably peaceful slumber. He'd been having a particularly pleasant dream and he planned to stay in his land of oblivion for a reasonable amount of time longer but, alas, it was not to be.

James often slept lightly and so he awoke to the meek taps on the window before Sirius did– in fact, Sirius did not stir at all. Which (as James was just about to find out) was just as well because the person at the window pane was Remus Lupin. The sort of Remus Lupin that did not wish to be in Sirius' close company for fear of spontaneous combustion.

"Moony?" James said with a brittle tone of voice; opening the window fully and helping his friend into the warm and all-round agreeable bedroom.

"Prongs I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Is Marlene here? I'd like her to hear it too."

James nodded, Marlene had been staying with the Potters for the most part of two days as, what she called it, an extended sleepover. She'd taken one of the handful of guest suites and was currently there now, likely sleeping.
"I'll fetch her," he squeezed the boy's shoulder in the smallest act of reassurance, "and Sirius, or?..."

Eyes wide, Remus shook his head, sending a flurry of ashy brown waves around at all angles, he looked frenzied to misprize it.

"Alright. I'll make some tea. Away and sit up on the roof and I'll send Mar up after you."

The roof had always been a place for quiet conversation that all parties did not wish to be overheard. While James and Sirius lived back in Potter Manor they often spent whole nights watching the sun set and rise on the roof, smoking and talking, occasionally passing a bottle of firewiskey between them. After a while it became a place all marauders would go in times of need. If they found themselves on the roof the conversation stayed there, that was the rule.

Remus climbed up onto the window ledge and then hoisted himself onto the roof without trouble and took in the view. It wasn't quite as spectacular as the well-kept acres of greenery that belonged to the Potter's main residence but there was something a little more authentic about the view of little houses dotted along in neat rows and fields separating them from the neighbouring city.

There was a soft clatter and Remus smiled, peering over the roof's edge to see a blonde haired angel struggle to escape the confinement of the window.

"Need a hand?"

Marlene looked up and smiled.
"Much obliged."

Once she was safely hoisted onto the rooftop she settled her head in Remus lap. She wasn't entirely like Esme-Leigh in the sense that she always seemed to be touching someone but instead Marlene believed that touch was a language. A dialect in which she was not completely fluent in but could speak better than she understood; like being placed in a foreign country without much warning and expected to get by. Despite this she always seemed to know when best this language was used over words and so she rested her head gently on his lap and listened to the pattern of his breathing, taking comfort in the fact it seemed to slow the longer she stayed there.

James appeared shorty after and handed each of them a mug of tea and Marlene a cigarette. None of them talked for an indeterminable amount of time, they just enjoyed each other's peace and contempt. Some things are best left unsaid and despite the comfort this was not one of those things and so, clearing his throat, Remus began stumbling his way through a speech that he'd clearly prepared for but now he seemed to be forgetting a deal of.

"I thought you should know something. Something that... something that I've been rejecting for a long while but I think... I think I should like you too to be the first to know. Marlene I've deduced that you likely already know and have done since that day in the common room when we talked about Keegan Trista. You saw... my face and you could read it because you'd been through the same thing." He gazed down at Marlene like his friend was better than any of the stars twinkling about his head and she smiled comfortingly at him. She did know.

"My ex-girlfriend. Evelyn Terricott, you remember, and she was my world for ages but I... I...oh god this is harder than I thought..." he sighed, turning away from both of them and siping his tea while watching the sky.
"Okay," he began again once breathing wasn't quite so onerous, "okay... I knew she wasn't all there was. And that's not in the sense that I wanted to cheat in her, not at all, just that I knew that's not where it ended."

James and Marlene sat patiently. James tapped his cigarette over the roof edge and onto the life below, which was rather dead anyway.

"I'm going to stop beating around the bush and say it... well, I'm bisexual. And I know this isn't a big deal to purebloods but it is to me and I—"

He didn't get much further before Marlene sat up and kissed his forehead gently, silencing him better than any charm or magic. James was just smiling, simply and plainly in a proud sort of way.
"And you don't want Sirius to know?"

"No I don't. I want to tell him myself when I'm ready."

James smiled softly, seeing directly past his friend in a way that only good companions can.
"You like him, don't you? Like...really like him?"

Remus did not reply right away but often silence was another dialect in its own right.
His tea was cold but he drank it anyway, the night air had stained the taste with it's magic and so he didn't seem to mind the lukewarm temperature.
But eventually he sighed, "it's pathetic I know."

James smiled, recalling telling Sirius the same thing: "no, it's human."

"Same thing."

"That's what he said."

"What?"

"Nothing. Do you know what Roald Dahl's last words were?" James asked, bringing the topic away from his mishap but not completey away from the subject as the other two were due to find out.

"Something about missing his family," Marlene replied, still settled close to Remus.

"I'm not frightened. It's just that I'll miss you all so much." Remus quoted in agreement but James shook his head.

"They're the perfect words to go on aren't they? But he didn't." James replied, taking a drag of his cigarette wonderfully slowly.
"No, his last words were before he fell unconscious. He was injected with morphine and so his true last words were simply 'ow, fuck' and not that poetic spiel."

Still at a considerable loss the other two stared at him, and he smiled coyly.
"The point I'm trying to make is that not everything has to be perfect. You can do what you want, Moony. Tell whoever you want and ultimately date who you want. But the bottom line is that if you like Sirius then there isn't really a right or wrong way to tell him. Everyone has 'ow, fuck' moments and we just have to deal with that, you know?"

None of them spoke for fear of ruining his sermon for a good while before Remus began to laugh. At first it was a giggle, then a chuckle and soon he was laughing till tears formed in his eyes.
"Where do you get this shit?" He chocked after he'd gained composure.

"Sort of just comes to me," James shrugged, also unable to resist a smirk and they fell serenely quiet
for a moment but this time Marlene broke the spell.

"I'm proud of you, Remus. Really." She was still looking at him fondly in such a way that she might have eaten him given half the chance.

"Im glad you are."

They shared a smile while she drew the last of her cigarette into the air before letting his quash into the wall.

"Do you want another?" James pointed to his empty tea mug. Remus shrugged.

"Why not? Now we've had that conversation I'd quite like to hear the story of where you disappeared to the other night with the cute bartender."

James laughed with silvery smooth breaths that only can be achieved after throwing a cigarette off the roof; his mischief corrupting the seriousness of the previous moment, "Remus Lyall Lupin what has become of you?"

"I know. But sometimes society challenges us to lower ourselves to the intellectual height of others in order to fit in to the stereotypical norms we're assigned."

"Prat."

"Someone has to do it."

"And yet no one does it quite like you."

The three of them laughed like it was the only thing they had left and remained just like that until the sun began to appear over the horizon. Dawn was coming, and they would see it in. Together.

Agh! Shits getting real it's almost time for the chapter! Anyway, hope you liked this one and any feedback or requests/ideas will be welcome! (Also I wanna hear theories please!)

Anyway, Merry Christmas to those who celebrates it! I hope your day is absolutely magical and it's filled with happiness despite this shitty year.

Love you all,

Abbi ♥️