This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Angela for so very kindly dragging me through the mud with murder threats over the current plot line of this book. I greatly appreciate both you and your barbarian tendencies! Love you!
JamesPotterBlobb ♥️♥️♥️

(10th November 1977)

It hadn't even been a week. Aliona Connolly had managed five days staying in the Heads Dorms after the Gryffindor party, sleeping in Marlene's bed and disappearing before James woke up. Now she's had enough. She was hiding from Trudy and now from James too. One got to a certain limit before they simply couldn't handle it.

She'd gathered her clothes that Thursday afternoon from Marlene's dorm and set to take them back to the seventh year dorms while Trudy was at dinner. She's talk to her later. She would.

Aliona hadn't expected to feel a warm hand encircle her wrist just as she rounded the corner to the portrait hole of the Heads Dorm.

"Wait a second, will you?"

She turned her head to see the voice belonged to a sheepish James Potter. He was watching her with an abashed look in those hazel eyes that never seemed to end. Even a glance from James seemed smouldering.

Aliona didn't respond, neither did she leave entirely. James took this as definitive reason to continue.
"Al, I just wanted to clear the air here. The awkwardness." He ran a hand through his hair which settled at the back of his neck, massaging the skin there and occasionally toying with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Me too."

"Good. Because we both know that what happened that night shouldn't have. And I don't want to lose a decent friend over this, and I don't want to lose such a helpful member of the MPP too. We were drunk and lonely and I feel awful and slightly like I used you, if I'm honest." His gaze was fixed on the ground so he wasn't able to catch the horrified look Aliona had shot him.

"You? If anything it was the other way around! I'm so sorry too, and of course I still want to be your friend, and whatever happened, won't happen again, okay?"

At this James managed to drag his gaze off the carpet, like it were heavy. His eyes met hers and James could see the look of penitence twisted into her grey eyes. Like freshly fallen snow.

"I hope you're not leaving on account of me?"

"Course not. I need to talk to Trudy eventually and Marlene has been ringing my ear off about it every single night. It's a pain in the neck if nothing else. I'd much rather go back to having Mary and Esme-Leigh fuss over me like healers!"

James had a contagious laugh, most people found after having spent more than ten mintutes in his company. As a coxcomb as he was– his laugh was a credit he didn't seem to notice.
"Well I hope you can handle it. Try falling off your broom and breaking a shit tonne of ribs and see how you like the Florence Nightingale facade from Ez! Absolute nightmare!"

Aliona smiled, glad that whatever thickness that settled in the air begun to lift. She could feel it evaporate like cigarette smoke out a car window.
"Thank you, Potter."

"For?"

"For not making this any worse for me than it has to be."

He smiled, the sort of demure smile that suited him best.
"Not a problem, m'dear. Now off with you. And if you don't talk to Trudy I'll get Esme to grass you up to Marlene!"

♣ ♣ ♣

(10th November 1977)

Marlene sighed as she landed haphazardly across James and Remus as they sat on the couch of the prefects meeting room.

"You're late, Head Girl." Remus stated, if he was floored by her absurd actions then he didn't seem to show it.

"And a klutz I'm afraid, McKinnon, m'dear," James added with a chuckle. "Would you mind awfully shifting your arse –lovely as it may be– from my pelvis? It would be a great shame if you were to maim my reproductive organs before I had the chance to produce an heir to the Potter fortune."

Marlene scowled, making no move to relive James from her rather peculiar position, though she didn't seem to be embarrassed by such ribald mention of her arse:
"Are you of the impression my arse is fat, Potter? Surely countless hours of quidditch drills would prevent such?"

James had now taken to attempting to shift Marlene off himself and Remus with brute force.
"Oh no, it's not the weight I'm concerned over– its the boniness. I fear it makes for a more targeted attack on my bits so, if you would, please will you cooperate and get the hell off me? Poor Remus is being held hostage by your elbows."

Marlene sighed and relented, allowing James to push her off him.
"Let the record show this is for Remus and Remus alone. I don't care one bit for your menace future children. I've half a mind to ensure they never exist. Now– I believe our duties outrank such squabbles. If we may?" She held up a bundle of parchment she'd brought with her in one hand while gathering her blonde waves in the other, tying it in a low bun with her wand, like Sirius tended to do.

James looked up to notice that a few of the prefects were amused by the Head Students larks, while others looked like they might leap across the table and scratch both their eyes out. And that simply wouldn't do, he decided, because his eyes were much to beautiful to be mutilated.

They set to work organising the change in schedule for the prefect rotas. These changed every new moon, if not to keep Remus' secret then to inspire a bit of change around the duties to stop them from becoming impossibly dull. Of course this meant that the Magical Prejudice Protection would also have to meet to discuss their pairings with the prefects on the rounds.

The rule of having MPP members to accompany prefects had been allowed by Dumbledore since the attack on Aliona Connolly last year. Since then, muggleborn attacks had lowered significantly, however last month Tabitha Trenn was sent to St Mungos over an attack in which she'd likely never fully recover. The war was worsening but they tried to push it from their minds. They could handle this and so they would. The rest they weren't ready to face.

The meeting was short and to the point– the usual businesslike way Marlene and James usually conducted their meetings (discounting the preamble of tomfoolery earlier).
James had just been about to finish filling out some detention forms –the irony was not lost on him– when Marlene caught his arm.

"Is this about the insult to your arse? I'm terribly sorry. I meant no offence I'm sure you know? I—"

"—it's not about that. That's forgotten. I wanted to talk to you about Aliona," she leant closer to him when's she spoke so as not to be overheard.

"What about her?"

"Did she tell you she's going to try and talk to Trudy today?"

James nodded, "she did. I think it's a brilliant idea– long overdue."

"James." Her tone was warning.

"What?"

"I know about the kiss."

"Oh."

"'Oh' right enough, Prongs. Pull your shit together."

James frowned. He didn't quite know why she was saying any of this, nor what pulling his shit together involved.
"I've already talked to Aliona– apologised for what was clearly a mistake— and she felt the same way. We were drunk and it won't happen again. If you must know, I feel awful."

"Good. Now are you coming to dinner?"

The frown plaguing the space between James' eyebrows only grew deeper as he surveyed his friend's cold manner.
"In a moment. Save me a seat?"

"As always." She smiled but James knew her well enough to know it wasn't wholly genuine.

He watched her leave for a moment or two before turning back into the prefect room to see Remus was still waiting.
"Merlin's beard, you creeping nightmare! I could have taken a heart attack!" As if to prove his point he clutched a hand to his chest.

Remus didn't respond to the theatrics, he simply continued sorting out the disarrayed parchment that had been sprawled across the table during their meeting.
"Less of that, Prongs. You act as if I were looking to turn you into taxidermy!"

"You know that's not funny, Lupin."

Remus did not even attempt to hide his eye roll, "you bloody git. I've been waiting to talk to you and we're still here discussing you and your melodramas!"

The Head Boy strode fully back into the meeting room, a look of ample concern across his features.
"What did you want to say?"

Remus sat back down, seeming to melt into the chair and drown away in its worn leather.
"I wanted to talk to you about the next MPP meeting. I'm not sure if you remember what you told me while drunk at that quidditch party but it seems you become somewhat of a philosopher –or so you claimed."

"Oh?"

"Well you said that the only way he's going to show an interest is if he knows I was an option. What's the harm in telling the MPP who I am? And if the rest of the school don't like it then I'll have your protection."

It never took much to make James Potter smile but there was something in his eyes that was unique to this sort of euphoria. A proud glimmer in his eye and utterly overjoyed crinkle in his nose. James looked as though he was a father on his child's first day of school. He was frankly delighted.

"That's brilliant really. Fantastic. I was thinking of making the next meeting sometime this week? Sunday afternoon?"

Remus nodded, "alright. Will you send the message now?"

"Certainly will." He pulled out his wand, pointed it at the badge stuck to his robes and soon enough the identical one on Remus Gryffindor tie began to violently spin before revealing the words:

MPP meeting: Sunday afternoon 5pm –James

(10th November 1977)

Letters from James and his school friends had become one of Lily's favourite delights over the past few months. She adored reading their misadventures in letter form from various points of view; and though she longed to be a part of them herself, letters were the next best thing.

She had a small place on her bookshelf dedicated to past written letters. Piles of envelopes decorated with the various handwritings of her friends which she prized with great precision, organising them chronologically and stacked neatly from each person. She tried not to muse too much about the sizeably smaller pile from Esme-Leigh Bisset. That was a plethora of feelings she didn't care to discover, usually it led to a room full of questions she feared the answers to.

Regardless of any potential tension between her friends she wished for the replies dearly, now she finally understood just why Dorcas had gotten so excited in previous years, running to the front door to retrieve the post whenever a knock came to the door of her house. Watching Dorcas receive a letter from Marlene was just about as charming as watching a child open their gifts from Father Christmas.

Lily had begun to wonder if she appeared the same way nowadays? Though when the knock at the door came she didn't stop to care. Instead she raced down the stairs from her bedroom like a madwoman, flinging open the door with a little too much zeal for a Thursday morning before seven o clock.

"Post, miss," said the postman– rather obviously but Lily supposed there wasn't much else to say, lest they avoid an awkwardly silent transaction.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the letters, flipping through them and recognising the handwriting of Remus, Marlene and finally James among the lot.
"Thank you," Lily looked up and properly studied the postman for the first time. There was something familiar about him that didn't quite bode well with her. His hair was dark and beginning to grey though he couldn't have been more than forty, though he looked as if he might be one of those people who didn't look their age. But there was something else there too: something his his eyes that set her insides on fire in the most foreboding sort of way.

He was familiar. And not only that, but the churning in her stomach was not the only thing rising. Magic was there too, she was sure of it. Magic plagued her veins like it were something between a poison and a drug. Who was this man?

They locked eyes for a brief second before the man looked away, tipping his hat and making his way back to the front gate. Looking at that gate often reminded her of watching James vault it on the day of his mother's funeral, coming to apologise. James. That was a welcome distraction, indeed. Lily looked down at the letters in front of her and grinned before all but racing up the stairs to open them.

♥ ♥ ♥

(10th November 1977 continued)

Lily might had slept soundly through the night if her bloody curtains were any good at blocking out the vexatious flickering lamppost on the street below. She cursed her bad luck as she rose from her bed to inspect her nemesis only to be confronted with something else along with it...

Standing underneath the flickering streetlamp was Lucifer, timely as always, his nonchalant frame effortlessly leaning on the metal and looking up to her window.

Only then did she make the connection to the postman from earlier.

Lucifer –or rather the postman?– offered her his signature wink before gathering his hands into his pockets and striding off into the night...

(13th November 1977)

"Ozma if I hear you complain I think I'll punch a wall. I'm sorry but there's no other prefect to pair you with, you'll have to patrol with Florence Flint until the next moon cycle." Marlene assured the younger sixth year with a tone slightly too cutting to pass as reassurance. "However if it makes you feel better– as Head Girl I give you full permission to punch her if she does anything to deserve it."

Ozma Periwinkle beamed deviantly as she accepted her timetable from Marlene. Remus fought the urge to reprimand her, likely it was the nerves that stopped him, besides– once something left Marlene's lips there was no changing it.

Aliona was making her way around the MPP meeting room as well, handing out timetables to the other sixth and seventh year patrol volunteers. Despite the warm smiles she gave each student, it was clear in the dark circles under her eyes she hadn't been sleeping. James eyed her with a look that crossed between sympathy and suspicion: clearly she hadn't spoken to Trudy yet.

"Okay so while we're here: I'm going to hand your attention over to Remus. Go easy on the bloke– his public speaking is dreadful unless he's commentating– in that case it's a house of horrors for other reasons. Anyway: Moony?"

Remus nodded, swallowing as he took in the scene. All the MPP members seemed to be watching him, half interested. There must have been less than forty students and yet it seemed as though there were a hundred squished on the huddle of blue sofas.
He thought back to the beginning of sixth year; Sirius and Keegan Trista, sneaking around together. You need to show him you're an option. He saw Sirius dancing with Marcus Abbott at the party, not a care in the world. You need to show him you're an option. He thought of all the things he could say that wasn't what he promised himself he would.

Remus took in a deep breath.
"Well Prongs summed it up smashingly when he said I'm not one for public speeches so I'll skip the preamble. Ive recently come to the conclusion that I'm bisexual and I think it vital that I stop hiding behind my safety net and realise that wherever I go some people won't like it. So I've actively decided not to give a shit. Just like so many of you lot have taught me. Hopefully this won't change your opinions of me and you'll still find me an absolute nightmare!"

Remus caught James' eye, he was grinning from ear to ear, a glint of pride shining in his eyes. He smiled back before allowing his gaze to briefly settle on Sirius...

Sirius seemed just about as restless as a pup. His knee was bouncing and a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips. Remus could tell how hard he was trying to avoid his eye, odd as it may be.

Aliona nodded at him, stormy eyes twinkling. In fact, everyone seemed to be smiling in one way or the other. Mary looked as though she were restraining herself from leaping out her chair and throwing her arms around him.

Remus caught her eye and winked when she shot him a pleading look.
"Go on then."

It took her less than a second to fling her arms around her neck. She was nearly as touchy as Esme-Leigh.
"Oh, we're so proud of you, darling!"

Soon enough the whole MPP where joining Mary in offering him their congratulations. Remus had never felt more accepted in his life. He glowed with it.

Somewhere over Esme-Leigh's hair and Dante McCool's shoulder, Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius, leaning on the arm of a chair and wearing a smirk.
He shot Remus a grin and somehow, despite being in the middle of a crowd, they were the only two people in the room...

♣ ♣ ♣

(13th November 1977 continued)

Sirius wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. He strolled the corridors with his usual confidence on his way to the lake to see the rest of the marauders. Most people passing him wouldn't have noticed the internal conflict he battled as he strode among his classmates.

The all too familiar weight of his cigarettes seemed to burn into his trouser pocket. If Marlene tried to steal one he might bite her hand off.

One thing he was sure of was that Remus' coming out had proved to stir something in him that had been simmering for far too long. Now it was starting to boil and Sirius wasn't sure what might happen then it bubbled over. He'd been watching Remus out the corner of his eye for a while now. Perhaps 'watching' isn't the correct word... he thought to himself, 'admiring' perhaps. And still his breath nearly caught every time Remus' eyes locked with his. They were the most fantastic swirl of honey and gold, amber in some lights. Whenever he looked too long at Remus' eyes other thoughts followed, dangerous thoughts that should have a stopper put on the lid. He wondered what it might be like to gently place a hand to his cheek, running his fingers delicately across the scars on his cheekbones.

Now, he realised as he drew nearer to the lake, those untoward ideas were perhaps not as unwelcome as they once were...

It was fitting he should be thinking of Remus when he caught wind of the conversation at the bottom of the final corridor he was set to pass through before he got outside. Maybe it was because Remus was circling his mind that he found it so easy to spot his name among the laughter. Or perhaps it was just because Remus was never far from his mind.

"Honestly you'd have no idea Lupin was... one of them..."

Sirius stopped abruptly, turning on his heel to face the small group of students. Two Ravenclaws and a Slytherin. Likely fourth or fifth year. He didn't recognise them but it hardly mattered.

"He's always been an odd one, wouldn't you say?" The taller Ravenclaw said, his tone suggested that he considered the conversation topic to he some sort of scandal. Which it certainly was not. Sirius gritted his teeth.

"Pardon me, boys," he drawled, doing his very best not to sound too choleric, lest he showed his band. However his clenched fists and ignited eyes seemed to tell a different story.

The taller Ravenclaw sized him up, looking under his nose at Sirius, although he were attempting to read an atrociously tedious textbook.
"What do you want, Black."

Sirius tapped his MPP badge with his knuckle, drawing the group's attention to it. The Protection didn't have the best record for showing kindness towards students caught speaking of such matters.

"Simply drawing your attention to my good self while you enjoy such stimulating conversation! It must be a grand life to get such enjoyment out of speaking of Remus behind his back."

"What's it to you?"

Again Sirius rapped his badge, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that told him this was more than his MPP duties making him so vexed.
"It's my job to make sure these sorts of matters don't go to Dumbledore. He's got enough on his plate without dealing with scum like you lot."

The Ravenclaw –seemingly the designated speaker– took a step closer to Sirius.
"What matters? Is listening to others conversations your job?"

"When it involves my friends? Yes it is my job. Now listen..." Sirius gestured for the Ravenclaw to offer his name, though he didn't very much care for it:

"Turpin."

The name rung a bell. There was a Frankie Turpin in seventh year, Hufflepuff. This boy must be Robert, her cousin; he'd often heard Frankie complain about her hatred for the wench.

"Ahh– Rob. What a pleasure to make acquaintance. I've heard all about you from your lovely cousin."

Turpin sneered at the mention of her but stood his ground, saying nothing. Sirius took the opportunity to continue.
"Now, Turpin: I'm going to tell you this once and I will not be saying it again. If I ever hear you calling Remus –or any other gay person– 'one of those' again in my lifetime, I'll skin you. Are we clear?"

The Ravenclaw didn't even bat an eyelid. If anything a smirk was tugging at his pale lips.
"What, like you?"

"Exactly like me." Sirius didn't have time to contemplate why he wasn't as angry being insulted himself than he was when it was Remus.

"Fine. You and your... kind aren't worth my time anyway. And you call mudbloods filthy."

It was his smug look that did it. One second Turpin was about to utter more homophobia and the next he was on the ground clutching a bleeding nose. Sirius shook his hand, knuckles slightly bloody and probably set to bruise.

"How dare you say that about anyone! You disgust me! All of you!" Now it was his turn to stare down his nose at Robert Turpin. He'd never felt more disgusted in his life. He'd dealt with people like him for years –on his own and on other's behalf– in fact, he'd heard much worse shouted at him during his career in Hogwarts and outside, and yet something about Turpin saying those things about Remus set off a primal instinct of burning hot rage inside him, deep in his stomach. Now just the thought of Turpin's heinous smirk was enough to set him ablaze.

"If I hear anything remotely like that again I'll break more than your nose, you sick arsehole!" He looked at Turpin's dazed expression, his eyes were slightly watery but his perilous anger was ever present. Sirius spat in his face.

"Take your pathetic excuse of a friend to the hospital wing. Or don't. See if I give a fuck." Then he was gone, turning his back on them and feeling somewhere between being sick and kicking something.

♣ ♣ ♣

(13th November 1977 continued)

Remus was watching him. He wasn't sure if he wanted him to notice or not. What does one say to their best friend after they break a person's nose for you?

News had spread of Sirius' encounter with Robert Turpin. Hogwarts was like that– gossip spreading faster than smoke along its ancient corridors. Such a phenomenon was partly the reason it had only taken half the day for Remus' own news to spread. Now it was an hour until curfew and the school had already moved onto the next big scandal: Sirius and his rouge fist.

The evening light was flat that November night but the fire of the Gryffindor common room set the walls alight with snug warmth. Remus sat with his legs crossed on the rug, his knee touching Mary's as they sat side by side, sharing a potions textbook that he hadn't been reading for the past twenty minutes.

"We can do this later, Pet," Mary said, her tone just as warm was the fire. She was watching him with a significant smile, pale green eyes brimming with intelligence and knowing.

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all. I've got a letter to write to my mum. She's nine months pregnant and gets jittery when I don't write her promptly. You must know all about it with your mother. Still sick?"

It took Remus a grievous second to realise she was referring to the cover story for his lycanthropy. He'd been claiming to visit his sick mother for the past two years and most people seemed to be buying it. In truth, his mother was only a little fragile, she suffered terrible migraines quite frequently but aside from that she was in good health.
"Afraid so. She goes through phases, you know. Moments."

"Mm-hm." Mary hummed, lips pressed together in a thin line.
"You know, Remus, that Sirius is not that difficult to talk to. You've been watching him for longer than I'm sure you'd care to admit– studying him better than you have this textbook. Why don't you just speak to him? He's one of your best friends after all."

He tore his eyes away from Sirius and dragged them back to Mary's face. Freckles masked her cheeks, pink from the fire's heat and her golden fringe was pushed from her eyes, creating a curtain around her freckled forehead. Remus realised she was smiling.

"What?"

She shook her head, bringing her fringe back across her forehead, "nothing. You just see everything so literally."

"Come again?"

This time Mary chuckled, her eyes crinkling.
"What I mean is, you always look like you're trying to find a logical explanation for everything. Sometimes that's the thing— most people that defy all sense of logic," Remus pretended not to notice her eyes flickering to someone over his shoulder. It happened too quickly to catch who she'd glanced at.
"Something things just are. Sometimes we get swept along with life and the only thing we can do is stop ourselves from drowning. What you're trying to do if defy the current."

Remus stared at Mary for a moment. He'd never known her to be so esoteric before. Of course he'd known she was studious and airy, bubbly even, but never had he seen her so wise. She suited this new colour.

"You're something else, Mary."

"I know, Pet. Now go and talk to him, he's alone now. I'm going to write that letter and we can study after classes tomorrow, alright?"

"Night, Mary."

"Sleep well when you do." She kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair before disappearing up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

Remus heaved a sigh, contemplating ignoring Mary's advice and going to the library to get this potions work done before curfew. That was when the protagonist of his dilemmas appeared above him.
"Moony?"

"Padfoot."

Sirius sat down where Mary was previously, tucking his legs underneath his torso and fixing his eyes on the fire. He looked surreal there, as tranquil as Remus had ever seen him– odd considering the day's events.
A lock of Sirius' hair slipped from the bun his wand secured and Remus became transfixed with the way it swung back and forth.

Neither of them said anything for a while. A million things needed to be said but neither wanted to be the one to start. The common room was sparsely vacated, each small group talking in low voices, filling the cozy room with a low buzz of conversation and tranquil, light laughter.

Remus silently watched that lock of hair swing until it came to a stop, extremely conscious of the bruised knuckles Sirius was sporting out the corner of his eye.

"You're going to ask me why." Sirius' grave tone alluded this was not a question.

Remus felt his breath fail him momentarily.
"What makes you say that?" He croaked though he did his best to pass it off as a murmur. If Sirius knew Remus was watching him he didn't show it, keeping his eyes on the fire, as if he were hypnotised.

"Because I can tell. You get odd when a serious conversation needs to be had. Look at your hands."

Remus looked down in surprise to see his hands were in knots, kneading each other vigorously– an action he was not aware of until Sirius pointed it out without even needing to see for himself.
Sheepishly, Remus sat on his hands lest they find themselves giving himself away again.

"How did you know I was doing that if you weren't watching me?"

Sirius didn't answer, he only smirked into the fire. They stayed like that for a moment, saying nothing, a certain comfort passing between them. Something unspoken that had been there for a while, only now it carried a new weight and neither of them were quite sure why.
"So," Sirius said eventually, still transfixed, "aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you?...— oh!" Remus laughed nervously, though he hadn't much idea why he'd be nervous with Sirius.
"Why did you do it?"

Sirius thought for a laboured moment, the air seemed too thick to breathe until he broke his stare off with the flames and brought his glittering grey eyes to Remus'.

It was unclear when Remus stopped breathing, or if his companion noticed, but he decided now was not the time to retake the habit. Sirius had the most delightfully deep eyes. They were so deep Remus wondered if he could peer into the other side of his head, or perhaps right into his soul...

"That's a difficult question, Moony. I think perhaps it's because I'm your knight in shining armour." He sounded so staid it might have been impossible to decipher if he were joking. But Remus had known Sirius long enough to detect that glint in his beautiful grey eyes.

"Padfoot."

"Fine. It's my job to protect people like us. That's what being in the MPP is about. But something about... something about hearing those things Turpin and his clique said, less than a day after you came out to us, struck me as horrendously unfair. It just... it's not fun."

Remus' lips twitched, "really, Black? I'd have thought it was a blast? Why don't we invite Turpin round for tea? Perhaps a candlelit dinner?"

Sirius snorted, "I'm glad to know it's not just me that manages to take the piss out of anything serious..." he caught his friend's puckish expression at the word 'serious', "—not a fucking word, Lupin, I'm warning you."
Remus mimed zipping his mouth shut, aching with silent laughter.

"Perfect. Now I can brood in peace."

Remus rolled his eyes but kept his lips firmly sealed. The stayed like that for a while, 'brooding' with one and other. Perfectly content with each other and the fact that they needn't face their feelings just yet. They could wait.

♣ ♣ ♣

(14th November 1977)

Aliona hadn't been sleeping. She'd left the Heads dorm more than three days ago and yet still hadn't plucked up the courage to speak to Trudy. It was getting stupid now, even the teachers seemed to notice something was amiss in both of them. Trudy had lost most of her zeal and Aliona was much less confident in herself.

She'd spent the last three nights not speaking a word to anyone in the dorm. She daren't go back to the Room of Requirement, incase she ran into Sirius and the Heads dorm with James didn't seem sensible, so she was forced back to her own bed. The first night she'd crept back into the dorm it was Esme-Leigh that waited until the rest of the girls were asleep before slipping into the bed next to Aliona and wordlessly embracing her, running her fingertips up and down her arm until they both fell asleep. The second night she was left to fend for herself, spending hours sitting on the windowsill, watching the sunrise. Sleep did not come easy. If she didn't talk to Trudy soon then she might never be rid of the circles underneath her eyes...

Classes had ended two hours ago and she'd been in the library for one and a half. She'd changed into Muggle clothes for better comfort and had taken to glaring at her transfiguration essay. She might need to ask James for help soon but she daren't admit defeat so quickly.

She hadn't noticed Remus quietly studying with Mary until the golden haired girl stood up, ruffling her study partners' as she did so, bidding him goodbye and scurrying out the door.

A thought crossed her mind and seconds later she followed it across the library to take Mary's empty seat.
"Can I?"

Remus looked up, rather surprised to see her there but by no means upset.
"Knock yourself out, Connolly."

Aliona smiled, sliding into the chair and pulling her garnet red hair free to cascade down the back.
"Remus? Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Depends on the question."

"Then why don't I ask it and then you can choose?"

"Alright. Fire away."

Aliona shifted in her seat, unsure how to go about phrasing her question, "who... who was your first crush— not a girl?"

Remus laughed outright, earning a glare from Madam Pince, but there was no malice in his action. If anything it was the opposite.
"That's a question I can answer. If we're talking about people we've met and not celebrities; then do you remember Fabian Prewett?"

Aliona nodded, grinning.

"What?"

"He was my first crush too, even before James."

Remus had to cover his mouth to hide laughter this time, "you're kidding?"

She shook her head, stifling giggles.
"I can't believe that!"

"It's peculiar. Anyway," he paused to chuckle, "Fabian and his brother– Gideon, were great to me and the boys when we were younger, showing us the secret passages they'd discovered and everything. But Fabian realised I must have been a little more timid and went the extra mile to make me feel included. I must have been in third or fourth year when I realised I liked him. Before then I mistook it for admiration, or friendship."

Aliona narrowly avoided choking. Trudy immediately appeared at the forefront of her mind.

"Why do you ask?"

She paused, "no reason."

Remus eyed her for less than a moment and she got the impression he could sense she was lying. However he didn't mention it, only winked reassuringly before gathering his things.
"Anyway, I hate to do this but I've got to fetch Peter from the greenhouses. No matter how much that boy enjoys dinner, he tends to loose track of time when he's there. Usually it's James that fetches him but he's off torturing the quidditch team. I'll see you at dinner. I can save you a seat if you like?"

Aliona was nearly overcome with gratitude at her friend's kindness.
"It's okay, Remus."

"I'll save one anyway. I can always give it away if you choose to sit elsewhere."
He must have known where she was going next.

"Thank you."

Remus nodded. He was about to leave before another thought crossed his mind and he turned on his heel.
"You know, Aliona. Sometimes I wonder if life knows things that we don't. It's difficult to dictate or figure out, but somehow we always get to where we ought to be."

Aliona didn't trust herself to answer so instead she smiled. Remus offered her a smile of his own in reply. Not quite offering his luck but bidding it with his eyes. He squeezed her shoulder once and then he was gone; leaving her to wonder if she was that obvious or if Remus Lupin just had incredible powers of deduction...

♣ ♣ ♣

(14th November 1977 continued)

Aliona hadn't been alone long when Trudy came in the door, almost as if she were on queue, followed by Ozma Periwinkle. They weren't holding hands but they might as well have been. She tried to ignore the ache and be happy for them, though it proved rather strenuous not to scream.

It took her twenty minutes of watching the two sit together, impervious to her presence, before she managed to pluck the courage to walk over to them. Despite being a Gryffindor, such a small act seemed to feel more gallant than facing a pack of vipers.

"Trudy?"

Trudy Nott looked into her eyes for the first time since that night and Aliona did her best not to cry. They were still the colour of milky tea and they sparkled like a clear night.
The smaller girl's mouth fell open, her soft lips forming a perfect 'o'.

"Can I speak with you?"

Slowly, hesitantly, Trudy nodded, pulling her mouth shut and adopting a neutral expression, running a hand through her hair, which had grown out its pixie cut and into a short bob.

Ozma looked between them for a moment, her dark eyes brimming with understanding. She stood up, gathering her books together.
"I'll leave you two, alright?" She said, her accent neither harsh nor soft but a vague Scottish. She patted Trudy's shoulder and offered Aliona a smile over her best friend's caramel-coffee hair.

She was gone soon after, leaving the two of them alone for the first time.
"Can I sit?"

Trudy nodded, still seemingly unable to form words. Aliona pulled the chair that Ozma had been occupying and sat on the edge, too restless to sit properly.
"I need to apologise to you."

"No, I—" Trudy spoke before thinking, shocking them both but perhaps herself slightly more, judging by her eyes.
"No. I should go first."

Aliona shook her head, "please."
Trudy nodded.

"Thank you. Okay... I reacted poorly that night. I shouldn't have run off and avoided you. And I don't want you to think it's because I don't accept you– I know it's not the same for purebloods in that respect and I don't want you to think that because of the environment I grew up in that I don't accept you. I do. I totally do. I just..." she sighed, "I panicked. And I don't care about anything else. I just want my best friend back. I just want to see you again." Her cheeks were wet before she noticed she'd been crying at all.

Trudy's expression must have partly mirrored her own. A look of gratitude and relief was evident in her eyes, and something else. Something like regret.

"My turn?"

Aliona nodded and allowed Trudy to take her hands, fixing her eyes on the way their fingers intertwined.
"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have put that all on you, especially when we were still a little bit drunk. I should have waited and told you properly, and I certainly shouldn't have kissed you. And most importantly I shouldn't have neglected you as a friend. I don't mind if you don't feel the same way as me. I understand, okay? But I need you back in my life in whatever way you'll have me. Please?"

Aliona wasn't sure if this was what it felt like to drown. She seemed to be choking on air, feeling it turn into water in her throat, sticking there. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell Trudy that kissing her wasn't a mistake, in fact, she wanted her to do it again. She longed to tell her how she loved her too. Because she did. All it took was the door to close on the possibility of Trudy's love to make her want it so badly. And of course it was selfish, it was horrendously selfish but she couldn't help it. She loved Trudy and now it was too late. She was happy, Ozma would give her what Aliona was too scared to offer herself. Ozma would love her like she deserved. She would just have to mourn what never was.

"I'd kill to be your best friend again, Trudy Niamh Imogen Nott. Even with your stupid long name."

Trudy laughed through her tears, her smile was like pearls in the sunlight, glimmering and gorgeous. This girl– this wonderful, one in a million girl– was offering Aliona a second chance and she's be mad not to take it, no matter how much it hurt.
"I'm going to hug you now." She didn't wait for a reply before twisting to pull Aliona into her arms.

They stayed like that for as longer than they realised, making up for the time they'd lost together. Trudy's head slotted comfortably onto Aliona's shoulder, her small arm wrapped round her middle. It was like coming home.

"You know I fainted the day I confronted Kieron Mulciber in the corridor?"

Of all things for Trudy to say, that was certainly not what Aliona expected. But just hearing her comforting Irish drawl made her want to curl up in the sound like it were a blanket.

"What?!"

"Yeah," she spoke into her shoulder, not wishing to move even if they missed dinner. Aliona felt a distant pang of guilt thinking of the seat Remus would have saved.
"Yeah," Trudy repeated less airily, "I was in this sort of trance, just... consumed with anger. I don't even know half of the hexes I used. They just kept coming out. And then when James and Sirius came into the corridor, shouting my name I snapped awake and I saw him there– blood coming out his mouth, his nose, I think there was some leaking from his ears and I swear he wasn't breathing! I thought I'd killed him and I'd never seen so much blood before and I just..." she snapped her fingers without breaking her hold on Aliona, "went out. If Sirius hadn't caught me I think I might have gotten a concussion. That would have been karma in its purest form, eh?"

They both chuckled lightly, "I don't think it's karma, Trudy. What he got was karma. He nearly killed me." She felt the grip on her torso tighten ever so slightly.

"I know."

"Good. You took justice into your own hands, like you always do. That's what's so great about you: you like fixing things, balancing things out. Actually," her smile was in her voice now, "you are karma. Not the victim of it."

"I'm glad you think so and I'm glad Jasmine Sempere agreed. Otherwise I might not even be here."
They laughed a little nervously at the idea, still reluctant to break apart. So they didn't. They stayed there, missing dinner and nearly curfew. They stayed together until the library shut (thought neither noticed when Madam Pince decided to close later than usual; unwilling to force them apart).

It didn't matter, none of it mattered because they had each other again. They had each other and they'd be damned if they let go, even for another second.

(18th November 1977)

Lily sat in the park, ignoring the cold that bit at the skin of her neck and hands. There were no flowers to manipulate in the ground this weather, but she half-wished there were. The past few months had stirred something inside her that seemed impossible to settle without magic. Perhaps it was the arrival of Lucifer? Perhaps James and his group? Perhaps just James?

Lily sat on one of the swings, languidly pushing herself back and forth, eyes fixed more on the ground than anywhere worth watching.

Lucifer... The postman... were they truly the same person? Then another thought crossed her mind: thoughts of wildflowers reminded her of the man she'd encountered in the park, nearly a year ago. He'd watched her playing with a daisy and winked at her. She was sure he'd said something at the time but she couldn't recall. Was he the same man too? Where did she fit into it all? Why was he there?

Thoughts seemed drag Lily further and further away from reality with every passing moment. She'd drifted so far that she didn't notice the figure appear behind her, wearing a coquettish smirk and a pair of rectangular glasses.

"If the wind changes you'll be stuck like that, love."

Lily nearly snapped her neck turning round to see James Potter grinning at her, taking the swing next to hers and mimicking her actions. She fixed him with a glare.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming!"

"I enjoy the ability to surprise you, Simpson. Keep the spark alive, you know?"

It was hard not to smile when James did too. However something about the name Simpson no longer fit. She wondered if he noticed it too.

"Any spark I'd trust you to ignite would result in a house fire!"

James didn't appear offended, "well, what a wonderful way to describe my burning passions!"

"You need help."

"Perhaps you can give it to me?"

Lily made a show of turning away from him, her red hair glowed, despite the flat light.

James chuckled, standing up and sidestepping into her line of vision.
"Don't be like that, Lily! I came to visit you, can't we do something exciting?"

Lily surveyed him with scepticism, "define exciting please."

"Exciting: causing one great enthusiasm and eagerness."

Her eyes found the heavens as she cursed under her breath, "no! I mean by your terms does exciting mean breaking the law or having dessert before dinner?"

James winked, "you'll have to find out, my love," and he was striding off at a furiously quick pace before Lily got the chance to scold him...

(19th November 1977)

Lily caught up with him just as they entered a tiny cafe she had never thought to investigate before. The quaint little place had low ceilings and dimly lit floor space, creating an ambiance that was almost romantic. Lily wondered if the bloody fiend had chosen this place on purpose.

"What would you like? We're stocking up on food for an adventure."

"A what?"

James pretended not to hear her; instead addressing the barista:
"I'll have a white coffee and blueberry muffin
and the lady will have?"

Lily faced the young man behind the counter. He was classically handsome, shortly cut blonde hair and brown eyes like the coffee beans behind him.
"I'll have a white coffee and a blueberry muffin as well, please?"

The barista smiled warmly at her, "of course."

While he set to work Lily noticed James eyeing the blonde man in a small fit of pique, as if he were attempting to assassinate him with his eyes.

"What is your problem?" She hissed, nudging James while the boy's back was turned to the coffee machine.

"That bastard fancies you."

Lily blushed violently, doing her best to mask it with the hair that cascaded around her shoulders.
"No he doesn't. Anyway why do you care?"

James eyed her as if she'd tripped up a toddler. "Because I do."

"Well what if I fancy him too?"

James choked, unsure if she was joking or not.
"You're not allowed to."

"Why?"

His smile was dangerous, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "because I get jealous—"

"—Oh, you bloody nuisance!"

"I'm serious! I might just have to challenge him to a duel to win your hand!"

Lily shoved him a little too hard and he nearly ended up in a very aesthetically pleasing counter filled with cakes. This attracted the attention of the barista who turned his head around sharply, shooting an equally poisonous look at James.

"Your coffees." He said stoutly.

"Delightful."

The blonde boy frowned but offered Lily a warm look as she took her own takeaway cup from the counter.
"That'll be £4.80 each."
James handed the barista a ten pound note and Lily began to protest.

"Enough of that, Simpson, you forget I'm loaded. Nothing I'd rather spend my trust fund on than indulging you."

Lily grunted but allowed him to pay, secretly grateful as she hadn't lifted her purse, although by the way the blonde barista was watching her she doubted she'd have to pay anyway.
They left the cafe with a paper cup and brown bag each, trying to nudge each other and spill their coffees.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"Ah, we're going somewhere special."

"Still a little vague for my liking, Potter."

He looked down at her, mesmerised by the way her radiance battled the bleakness of their setting.
"Well I thought we'd go back to the church where my mother had her funeral? You know the one where we sat on the roof together?"

Lily grinned. The sunset wouldn't be worth watching but it didn't really matter. They weren't there for the sunset anyway.

When they reached the top of the church's spiral staircase, James was filled with a sense of nostalgia. All the pain of seeing his mothers resting place seemed to ebb away with the memories of the last time he was here. Lily had sat with him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun go down. It was the most content James had ever remembered being; somehow it brought him back from the dark whenever memories of his mother's death overtook him.

"It's a bit colder than it had been."

Lily rolled her eyes, taking a seat on the ledge and allowing her legs to swing off the side, "thank you for the assessment, Miss Marple."

"Miss Marple?! Can't I be Poirot?"

Lily laughed as James came to join her.
"Absolutely not. Miss Marple is much more you!"

"How dare you!"

"Be grateful I didn't call you Ironside!"

James scoffed, choking on his coffee and nearly spilling it all over his lap, "you truly are something else, aren't you?" He peered at her over his rectangular spectacles and prayed she didn't catch his deeper meaning.

She didn't seem to, only smiling at him and turning back to face the hills rolling out in front of them.

Quiet had become something of comfort between them in these part months. Ever since the first night they'd been here, something different passed through their relationship– almost tangible but not quite. It was arbitrary, James ventured. He hoped it would never fade.

He turned to watch her and noticed she was already looking at him. The sun was beginning to go down but there was no sunset to enjoy, no golden hour to bless her freckles and blush on her cheeks, no glittering gold to reflect in her emeralds eyes. And yet somehow he was still mesmerised by her, like being hit with a sudden force of affection. He'd never wanted to kiss her more in his life.

You've made one mistake already this week.

For some reason it was Marlene's voice that spoke to him. Hating himself for being right he turned away, the memory of Aliona's lips on his spoiling the moment, ruining his blissfully clear mind. He hated himself for doing it, but he hated himself even more for thinking of it now.

He wanted to tell her, it felt like a betrayal, keeping that secret, but when he looked back she was no longer watching and it felt like the moment had gone. He sipped his coffee, feeling rather sick.

"I've come here since the summer, you know?"

James started, "what?"

"I came here not that long ago, back while my family were having that terrible episode. I wanted somewhere to feel free and this was the first place I thought of. It feels like the end of the world in a way, doesn't it?"

James looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. There was something beyond his reckoning in her eye. A glimmer that spoke of wise and wit beyond her years. Like she'd lived a thousand lives and was burdened with the tale of every single one.
"'I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled'—"

"—'by the inexhaustible variety of life.'"
Lily caught his eye again and James did his best not to slide off the end of the church roof  and splat onto the floor.

"You're a Gatsby fan?"

"The book or character? I despise Gatsby himself– but the book is gorgeous."

James watched her, stupefied for a moment.
"Now I really do need to offer my hand in marriage. Blonde baristas be damned!"

Lily hid a giggle, sipping her coffee and avoiding his gaze. James' smile slowly slipped. He'd said something wrong, her uneasiness was evident in her enticing eyes.

Eager to change the subject he handed her his muffin. "Throw bits at me and I'll catch them in my mouth. I'm rather great at this game."

Silently he felt the world slot back into place when her discomfort faded and she grinned, almost evilly.
"Let's test that theory then, Potter!"

They must have spent over an hour feeding each other cake in a series of competitions but by the time James had walked her home a half moon was in full view in the sky.

"This is where we part. I'll see you?"

Lily nodded, "don't be a stranger. But I wish you'd write me before you came! Surprise be damned!"

He didn't offer an answer, only winking, the twinkle in his eyes seeming to do the same thing in the starlight.

Lily scowled but pulled him close all the same. Her head found itself a place on his chest that made her never want to let go.
"Bye James."

He ran a hand through the bottoms of her hair, "I'll be back. And I will write!"

They stayed like that for a long time. When he parted from her it felt like he'd torn off a limb, but the memory of her warm body curled into his would be a recurring daydream...

♣ ♣ ♣

(18th November 1977 continued)

Esme-Leigh usually only received mail once a fortnight aside from the Daily Prophet and her Which Broomstick subscription. This usually came in the form of a letter from her mother, Vianne.

However the letter that Esme's owl had attached to her leg was at least three days late. She didn't think much of it, there was no reason to. It was probable her father had written instead, Blake wasn't known for being punctual and, despite being married to a witch for nineteen years, he still didn't fully understand owl postage.

The front of the letter, to her shock, was written in her mother's neat, curled writing:

Esme-Leigh Bisset,
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Gryffindor Tower,
Scottish Highlands

Giving the letter an odd look, Esme tore open the seal. It seemed shorter than the usual frivolous newsletter she normally received.

Dearest Esme, (she noticed that this was written in English as opposed to its usual French).

Sorry for the later reply than normal. Me and your father have been terribly busy planning and sorting out new documents. I'm afraid this letter brings unexpected news:

Your father's work requires him to move back to France where we originally met. The transfer isn't effective until April and we would like you to come with us, of course. I've written to Beauxbatons' headmistress (still the same delightful ProfessorJosephine Arnaud that taught me) and she has agreed to take you in for the remainder of your final year.

However if you have a reason that desperately requires you to stay then I'm willing to take it into consideration.

Me and your father miss you dearly and await your reply when you're ready to give it.

All my love,
Maman

Esme stared at the letter like it was contagious. France?! Beauxbatons?! Promptly she read the letter again, hardly breathing and thankful she was alone when tears began to prick her eyes. She could leave– she couldn't!

It seemed odd to her how one's life could suddenly be turned upside down, dictated by a piece of paper. It felt nauseatingly wrong.

But just before she let her salty, stinging tears ruin the ink, her eyes caught one of the final lines again: 'however, if you have a reason that desperately requires you to stay...'
Her breathing was shaky but her body was perfectly still. She needed a reason to stay. Something that was worth enough to convince her mother to leave her behind.

She needed to stay. She needed something to convince her to say. Something strong enough that she couldn't live without it.

Quickly she folded the letter in half and hid it under her pillow, she shook out her hair to turn it luminous blue and clambered onto the window sill, feeling the cold glass sink into her side.

How hard could it be? What did she have here she couldn't her anywhere else?

A lone tear slipped down her perfectly smooth freckled cheek and landed on the window pane with a a small splash. She knew that eventually there were questions she to had to face, but for now she allowed herself to cry– petrified of what the answers might be...

so this is the beginning of something big for Esme-Leigh. This was planned as soon as her character appeared in my mind and I'm so excited to share her story!

anyway I want to shoutout JilyOcGang for posting about both Aliona and Esme-Leigh on their OC opinion book! I really appreciate all you guys and thought it was hilarious!

Love you all millions,

Abbi♥️