Dedication today goes to Silvia for being so incredibly supportive across not just this book but loads of others!
soyysilvia ♥️♥️♥️

Everyone is in the dark somehow. Darkness is an invasive thing. It creeps its way into every crevice of one's being until suddenly everything is gone. Swallowed in nothingness.

There's a distinctive feeling about it. Like reading a book, engrossed in its pages, only to look up and find the world has continued and the sun has found another haunt. Everything is left in a peculiar dimness that is painful to look at for too long.

And then there is Mary. That halfway house between dull and dark seems to burn every now and again, before the darkness completely swallows it.

Sometimes there are voices...

What do they say?

(18th March 1978)

Lily Evans can't decide on a feeling. There seem to be too many floating around her head, pulling at her synapses and making her want to snap them like threads of hair.

Anger...Unease...Sadness...Disappointment... Guilt...

Are any really justified?

The anger, from having to find out about James' date from Esme-Leigh. The unease from the radio silence among all her friends' letters. The sadness that she thought he might wait. The disappointment that he didn't. The guilt that she technically hadn't either.

What a hypocrite she was!

The dark room provided a blanket of comfort in which to feel whatever she liked, away from prying eyes. The nebulous red glow could mask whatever she was feeling, providing her with a sense of comfort in her own head. She could work methodically to the music of sloshing solutions and wet photo paper, while she allowed her emotions to run wild.

Except today Lily wasn't sure what emotions there were to run wild with. James had gone on a date with Esme-Leigh. He had kissed her. He hadn't told her. Esme had.

And maybe that was terrible? Maybe she should hate him for it. Perhaps she should hate Esme? Would it help anyone to cast them both out, be bitter for the rest of her life?

Maybe Lily would feel more justified in hating them both if she hadn't let Dorcas set up that date for her. Maybe she would feel less guilty if she hadn't snuck out after said date, just to find a guy she'd never met before to kiss.

Why?

Because she was lonely? Because she was bored?

After Christmas, and New Year, when Lily and James kissed, they had promised they weren't ready to date. They had said it wasn't the right time for them.

So when was the right time?

Why didn't it stop them from dating other people?

Maybe they should just forget about the whole thing?

Finally, as she hung up another photo on the line above her head, did Lily realise what she ought to be feeling. Confusion. Confusion was truly a consuming emotion, because it wasn't really one. Confusion was a million different emotions all at once. It was exhausting. It clouded all else in one's head, a bit like the dark.

This truly was a magnificent place for confusion.

♥ ♥ ♥

(18th March 1978 continued)

Dorcas had knocked on the darkroom door, just as Lily was hanging up the last picture on the line. She pulled a curtain round them before opening the door to her best friend.

Dorcas Rae Meadowes was standing in the hallway, her body the only thing caging the bright light pouring in from the empty school corridor. Lily was grateful she'd already pulled a curtain around her photographs, but she wasn't expecting to be so startled by the light herself.

Dorcas pushed her way in front door, slipping inside and closing it behind her. She was still wearing her running gear; tracksuit trousers covering her shorts but she hadn't bothered with a jacket. Her sports bra was forest green –like their school colours– and bore the teal stitching of 'Meadowes' on the midriff, along with a 'CAPTAIN' armband around her left bicep.

"You alright in here, Lils?" She asked, her eyebrows scrunched together when she saw the look that Lily must have been wearing.

"Precious." Lily replied, a little distracted, "is training finished?" The haze of confusion was only just beginning to dissipate, leaving behind a mist clouding her brain.

"I'm covered in sweat, my hair is a mess and I'm so knackered that I'd rather have lost my tracksuit jacket than spend another second looking for it. So I've just traipsed from the gym to the top floor, here, in a sports bra."

Lily didn't manage to interpret much of what Dorcas had said. She often talked very quickly, especially when the two of them had gone substantial periods of time without talking and today didn't seem to be an exception.

"Your hair isn't a mess, Dorks." Lily managed to say, replying to one of the only things she had managed to comprehend.

"It is. I'm supposed to wash it tonight and my mum said she'd braid it but I don't know if I can stand sitting still for two and a half hours tonight."

"I'll help," Lily offered as she began flicking several devices off in order to lock up the dark room.

"Would you?"

"Sure. I've done it once or twice before with your mum's help. We can get it done in half the time that way. And you can tell me about your last letter from Marlene."

At this, whatever expression of buoyancy might have been on Dorcas' face was replaced with one that was nothing short of crestfallen.
"Marlene hasn't written this week, actually. I don't suppose you've heard from James or the others?"

Lily slowly shook her head, stopping her methodical motions to look at Dorcas.
"James hasn't written either. But I've stopped replying to his letters mostly."

"Why?"

With a flick of a switch, she had completed the process of shutting the darkroom off for its next use. Only once she'd ushered them both out the room and locked it behind her did Lily reply.
"I'll tell you while I braid."

(18th March 1978)

It was cold that night on the astronomy tower. The whole class were out tonight, their enthusiastic professor explaining something Esme-Leigh couldn't hear.

The stars were incredibly bright that night. The sky as clear as crystal and Esme wondered if that was why Professor Kayox had invited them out that night.

But there was an empty chair. Two seats to her right, Mary's chair was left empty.
It was dark outside, she noticed. The stars may have been bright but the world was so unimaginably dark.

James wasn't writing anything either. His head was in his hands but she was in front of him. He wouldn't notice if she were to escape out into the night. The darkness was an excellent cover.

So she slipped out her chair and ran. She ran until her feet and throat burned, and she knew she was lost.

♣ ♣ ♣

(18th March 1978 continued)

James heard her leave. The first minute he thought she'd gone to the bathroom. The next he thought she'd ran back to Gryffindor tower to get a jumper. It was only after the fifteenth minute, when class was ten minutes from over, did James start to wonder if something was a miss.

Effortlessly, he slipped out the door and down the stairs of the astronomy tower before he'd had time to consider where to look.

The hospital wing was empty. The quidditch pitch was deserted. He'd checked nearly all of their regular meeting points before he decided to fetch the map.

The boys dorm was quiet for the middle of the night. Unlike previous years, they weren't up at all hours, annoying one another and pulling pranks. Instead they were sleeping off days of looking after Mary, talking to aurors, and staying sane.

James had to wrestle the map off a sleeping Peter but he managed the feat without waking the blonde boy up.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered at the paper, impatient for it to reveal itself to him.

But he only needed to locate Esme-Leigh's name once to decide it was best to leave her alone. However before attempting sleep, he sent her a message through her MPP badge.

I can see you on the map
-James

I'm fine
-Ez

If you're going to sleep in the room of requirement, keep the fire on.
-James

I will. Thank you for looking for me.
-Ez

James smiled into the empty space in the dark before he closed his eyes, welcoming the complete darkness. He dreamt of a turbulent night sky. It tried to suffocate him.

♣ ♣ ♣

The dark. It was always the dark. Light did not exist. Only as a distant concept that she could not yet grasp.

And the confusion.

The confusion was the only constant emotion. Everyday. Confusion coursed through her veins like blood.

But then it is dull.

There is a difference between dark and dull. There is no light. Not yet. But there is dull. The idea that there might be light somewhere, perhaps in the future?

Dullness descends. Confusion goes nowhere...

♣ ♣ ♣

(20th March 1978)

It really did have to stop. Esme-Leigh knew this. Or at least she thought she knew this. But every time she attempted to let it go, this anxiousness, this unease, fear, panic, it only seemed to get worse.

She could see Mary everywhere. In everything. The things that used to make Mary smile, now make Esme want to cry. The things that used to make Mary laugh, make Esme wasn't to scream. The things that made Mary angry, make Esme collapse in rage. Everything is turned on it's head. Perhaps this is what confusion is?

She was outside the hospital wing, watching Mary through the crack in the door. Madam Pomfrey tried to send her back to her dorm but Esme-Leigh didn't feel like going.

"Esme?"

Peter had joined her, coming up to stand next to her as they both watched a sleeping Mary from the ajar hospital wing door.

"Pete."
It was obvious why he was here, and of course she loved him for it, but she wished everyone would just leave her alone.

"You gonna stay here all night?"

"Probably."

Esme waited for the lecture, the persistence to pull herself together, to get some sleep, to stop spiralling down a never ending rabbit hole. Alice in Wonderland is Mary's favourite children's book.

"Want company?"

This got her attention.
"What?"

"If you insist on staying here I'm not going to win this battle of wills. So I'll settle for staying with you instead."

Esme looked at Peter for a moment. He was about the same height as her, possibly smaller, and his hair was nearly white blonde, making him look even younger. His offer of company, and his understanding seemed a little peculiar, probably because the Peter that she knew lost every game of wizards chess he played; the Peter that she knew turned into a rat to scare her on an unsuspecting Tuesday; the Peter that she knew would ask for the charms homework every week without fail, somehow he would forget every single time. The Peter she was used to just didn't seem to have the same emotional maturity that he was displaying here. But perhaps no one had looked hard enough? Perhaps this had always been Peter?

"Sure I'll have company."

So they stayed there. If must have been two hours and Esme's eyes were beginning to drop. She wouldn't sleep standing up. That was ridiculous!

"Esme, you're sleeping standing up."

Fuck.
"No I'm not."

"Esme-Leigh, I may not be as strong as Sirius or James, so I can't physically carry you to bed, but I will drag you there. And I won't even need to stun you because you'll be so tired that you'll sleep through the whole thing."

She was about to laugh and brush him off but he was still going. This Peter was hardly Peter at all. He might even be angry.

"—do you really think Mary will recognise the girl she's waking up to? Because I know I don't. You're not yourself, Esme. You've ran yourself into the ground and let it all go to shit at your feet. If Mary wakes up you won't have the mentality to talk to her. What did Mary needs is a constant in her life. So when she wakes up, you can be that. But you've got to snap out of this, mate. You have to. If it's not you she wakes up to, then whoever is there will contact you as soon as she's awake. But whatever it is you're doing isn't helping anyone. In any capacity. It's really got to stop."

Esme-Leigh's mouth was hanging open a little. Peter was watching her with upmost sincerity. He had never looked so old, so mature. The way Peter looked, with his curly blonde hair, his freckles and watery blue eyes, it was easy to see a child; when in actuality, he was less than a month younger than Esme-Leigh herself.

It was this, this change, that made her realise, for the first time, just how tired she was.

"I know you said you wouldn't carry me to bed, but would you walk with me?"

Peter grinned, his cheeks flushing pink as all of a sudden he was a child again. But this time when she looked at him, that wasn't all she saw. There was maturity behind the blue of his eyes, she was just to shallow to see it.

"Let's go. Don't fall asleep on the journey." He offered her his arm and she took it, smiling. Actually smiling.

(20th March 1978)

The photos Lily developed sat in a neat pile on her bedroom desk. She hadn't examined them all but they seemed to have worked a treat; the camera James got gotten her at Christmas was perfect.

Lily's hand itched to write to him, to say how beautifully the camera worked, but she didn't. Maybe it was petty? Maybe she was being stupid. God was she a hypocrite?

Perhaps she was a fool to believe that James would wait in a solitary bubble of existence while they were stuck in this limbo. She'd told him they shouldn't be together, that they weren't the right people yet. So why, then, did she think he might become the right person alone? Especially when she had essentially done the same thing.

Lily reminded herself that it was Esme-Leigh that she'd heard it all from. As far as James was aware, Lily might not even know. Unless Esme told him what she'd said. Either way, Lily hadn't told James about Dorcas' friend –the boy she went on a date with– and she certainly hadn't told him about the random stranger she'd kissed at the bar afterwards.

So perhaps she was being ridiculous? However she still resisted the urge to write to James, to show him any of the pictures.

She'd rather be in the dark, Lily realised, than facing the music.

The photos were still on her desk. Which was a stupid thing to not, where else would they be? And Lily picked them up, holding them reverently in her hands like she always did with newly developed photos, like they might spontaneously combust upon her touch.

The first few she'd already studied in detail, one's of Dorcas, a few of Alice and Frank. There were landscapes from the top of the hill outside her house.
As she got further along in the pile, she noticed a few she hadn't taken. Some were taken by Alice, one in particular made her smile.

It was a picture of Sirius, he was laughing at what was likely his own joke, because he had a certain caustic look in his grey eyes, and the camera shook a little from Alice's laughter. But it wasn't Sirius that had caught Lily's attention to the photo...

In the background, sitting on one seat, clearly a little bit drunk, were Lily and James. They hadn't seen the camera, they were both looking at each other, James had leant down to whisper something in her ear and Lily's eyes were glittering with delight.

The photo was taken a few days after New Years, after they decided to press pause on whatever relationship might have come from the kiss at Christmas. And clearly, this was them attempting to be friends under the influence of alcohol.

However the more Lily looked at it, the more she came to realise that they didn't look like friends. Perhaps they would never truly be friends at all? At least not with the unspoken 'what ifs' lingering in the air. Perhaps they weren't destined to only be friends?

She remembered that day like the palm of her hand. There was music playing, Marlene was picking the music so she could serenade anyone that would humour her overblown performances– which mostly ended up being Dorcas– and, ironically, the album playing was Rumours by Fleetwood Mac.

It was a cold night outside, but Remus and Frank had lit a fire in Frank's parent's house when they had gone out to work for the night. James and Sirius had managed to find more of the peculiar, golden whiskey. And Peter had made biscuits for no reason in particular.

Lily and James had spent a lot of the night together, pretending that whatever was between them hadn't happened. But by the looks of this picture, neither of them were very good at it.

The warm glow spreading across her heart seemed to awaken something. Something deeper.

Blue wisps started forming around her, not quite taking shape like they had the first time, but forming something.

It was the memory.

Of course it was. Lily had long since been fascinated by memories. The way they can twist and distort, and inspire emotion; but also she'd been fascinated with their ability to change a person's outlook on things. Memories can make or destroy a person. It was only fitting that such a thing should bring back Lily's magic, the blue wisps.

Maybe that was the reason she'd been fascinated in the first place? Maybe, just maybe, this beautiful blue doe had been waiting behind the memories this whole time?

It began to take shape and Lily watched in reverence as her doe returned. It cantered around her dimly lit bedroom, a burst of softness and cerulean. Such a feeling surrounded her in that moment, something serene and marvellous.

Up until that moment, the only magic she'd conjured, aside from her little flower trick, had been painful.
She had cried blood.
She had rained ash.
And still she was alone.
But now she was no longer alone, because this doe, this majestic doe was here, and she had been waiting to get out for so long.

This memory alone was enough to let it stay for a while, trotting around her bedroom while she watched in childlike wonder.

♥ ♥ ♥

(21th March 1978)

The next day the doe was all Lily thought about. She sat through her lessons, wondering if it might burst out in the middle of her a-level German class. Alice would certainly have some questions.

But with this new discovery also came further thoughts about the memories that provoked the doe to arise. James has featured in most of the happiness, and perhaps she was being too quick to make a judgement on him? Especially after what Esme-Leigh told her about her own reasonings for asking James out. Maybe, he was using the date for the exact same reason Lily used hers: as a distraction from who she'd rather be with? Maybe it was futile to spend so much time thinking about it. But confusion really had become her best friend.

"Lils?"

Lily jerked her head up to see Alice Fortescue giving her one of those looks that means you've likely done something wrong by her book of morals. Dorcas had dubbed it her 'mum glare' and Alice pretended she didn't like the name.

"Alice?"

They were in the sixth form common room, everything was relatively quiet, only about ten of their peers were there at present time.
The common room was a decent size, the blue walls made up a perfectly rectangular room, decorated with various dull blue arm chairs and circular tables that were mostly too low to work at, but it was peaceful so most sixth forms faced the back-pain to get work done in here.

"I'm sort of doing German just now."

"You'll get an A, Lily, there's no use studying so much."

"The only reason you say I'll get an A is because I study too much."

"Exactly. So you have a minute now."

Lily gave a sort of half shrug, despite it not being a question, piling away her books to one side of the table.
"I guess so."

"First of all, Frank asked if I'd ask you to bring him those photos of the school garden. The garden club are looking to put them up sometime next week?"

"Oh, yeah sure!"

Alice beamed, one of those radiant smiles that made people adore her in an instant. She sat down next to Lily, sharing the loveseat with her and ironing out creases on her school skirt.
"Now that's out the way, I need to talk to you about something."

"That sounds ominous."

"Dorcas sent me."

"Never mind then."

Alice chuckled, "well Dorcas sent me but I wouldn't have come if it weren't for the fact I agree with her. It's about the boarding school lot."

"If you tell me it's about James I'll kill you."

"Funnily enough..."

Lily rolled her eyes, "out with it."

"It's more a question than a lecture." Alice went on, her chestnut hair was in a single plait down her head, resting just above her neck; she toyed with it for a second before realising it made her look nervous, but Lily had noticed anyway.

"You can tell me."
She didn't expect for Alice to reply so bluntly, so soon.

"What do you want, Lily? Really?"

"What do I..."

"–want? What do you want? You fawn over letters from that boy, and now you won't write to him at all. You kissed him at Christmas, but you want to be just friends. When Esme-Leigh told you exactly what had happened between her and James you thanked her. Do you want to be his friend? Or do you want more? Because there needs to be a line, Lils, not just a 'one day'. There needs to be more."

Lily stared at her best friend like she'd grown a second head, mainly because she was right. Memorise of James could conjure her doe, but what did it really count for?

"You're right—"
Alice's eyes lit up but Lily held up a hand to sush her.
"—don't get cocky. You're right, not a god. There needs to be a line. But I don't know where I want it to fall as of present."

"And in the mean time, what good does ignoring him do?"

"It doesn't."

"Makes you feel better though, doesn't it?"

Lily sighed, standing up and gathering her things, "not anymore."

(20th March 1978)

It was dark in her four-poster. Esme-Leigh had insisted that Marlene sleep in her own bed rather than with her. She was technically only three feet away, but it felt like she'd immigrated. She missed the warmth most. Marlene was like a house cat, somehow always a pocket of warmth and was quite content not to take up too much space. Her presence next to Esme was comforting, and most importantly, it stopped her over thinking. But Peter was right, she needed to get a grip of herself, for Mary.

She was determined not to think. She would sit quietly in the dark now, and think of nothing. Perhaps she would enjoy the silence without the gentle breathing next to her, there to time her heartbeats.

Was this how Mary felt?

Esme-Leigh thought as she stared upwards, seeing nothing but midnight black. Was all there was to see a never ending expanse of nothing? Of darkness? It was certainly possible.

Peter had told her she was being stupid, ruining herself while she waited for Mary to wake up. If it had come from anyone else, there was a high chance it wouldn't have gotten through to her, because Peter was usually someone completely different. It was never his job to talk around the people that needed talking to, so seeing him so pensive had made an impact on her. She was determined not to go back on her word: she would snap out of this. She would.

But in the dark she couldn't help but think...

Esme-Leigh had long since been looking for a reason. For something, anything, to tether her to this country. She needed a reason to stay. For a long time she'd always imagined that would be James. It wasn't. And so she'd spiralled a little bit. The idea that life wasn't a set plan from childhood was slightly disconcerting, even if she'd known it, subconsciously, all along. James didn't love her, and nor did she love him. She could live with it, she swore she could. But the idea of allowing herself to accept that Mary may have been Esme's second chance at a reason would have to open so many more doors that demanded to remain shut. Under lock and key. The acceptance that she really did like Mary, an awful lot, maybe even loved her. The idea that she would have to tell her father this; her father who goes to church on Sundays and prays every night before bed. And finally, she would run the risk of Mary not feeling the same when she woke up.

But the thing that worried Esme-Leigh the most was not who she would be when Mary woke up, like Peter warned, but who Mary would be. Would she smile like a ray of sunlight? Giggle like laughter had been hurting through the surface the whole time? Would her eyes be bright with feeling, brimming with delight.

Thinking about it made her sick.

She closed her eyes, allowing the darkness to swallow her, and her thoughts, before they got too dangerous.

♣ ♣ ♣

(21st March 1978)

Sirius knocked on the door with the tip of his wand as he folded the marauders map into the back pocket of his school trousers. He hoped he'd gotten the door right, Marlene had given him a vague idea of where he should go but all the doors looked the same in this bloody castle.

It didn't take the door long to fling open, but whoever had opened it was nowhere to be found. Sirius realised it must have been opened magically.

"Come on in, darling! Take a seat and I'll be over in a sec!"

Sirius sighed with relief that he hadn't walked into the wrong room and sat on one of the plush black leather chairs opposite the dark oak worktop.

"Did Marlene give you the right room then? I wondered if maybe she'd send you somewhere awful to fuck with you. Maybe sent you to a closest full of nifflers or something?"

Sirius looked up to see Jasmine Sempere emerge from a corridor between two parallel bookshelves. Her glasses were resting on top of her head, pulling her silky charcoal hair away from her face and showing off her olive skin and amber-hazel eyes.
She grinned when she saw him sitting there, looking started to see she'd just emerged from a bookcase, he obviously hadn't known her exact location when she'd thrown the door open with a charm.

"Oh no, Marlene is Head Girl, she's very docile nowadays. About a month ago I had to convince her to put soap on the third floor corridors just to bring back her spirit!"

"I heard she dunked Kieron Mulciber's arm in an acidic potion and nearly took his hand off?"

"Yes, well. We all have our off days," Sirius smirked as Jazzy took the seat opposite him, at her desk. She'd been stationed here a few days ago after a new room opened up; previously she had been sharing a working space with Lucas McKinnon; but despite the space being relatively new, Sirius could tell she'd settled in quite well. Papers, potions, books, and cardigans were scattered around the room in a messy but organised manner which suggested there was method to the madness Jasmine conducted, but only she knew how to command it.

"Anyway, how do you like my humble abode?" The older girl asked, holding her hands out as she spun in her chair, which she had charmed to levitate a few inches off the ground so she could operate it like a muggle office chair. She sat back, leaning like a king holding court.

"There's not much humble about it, Jazz. I take it the living quarters would make the bourgeoisie sweat?"

Jasmine laughed, "nah, I'm sharing a living space with Lucas."

"Ooh, are you now?" Sirius raised an eyebrow in an insinuating manner.

Jasmine rolled her eyes, "fuck off! It's not that bad in all honestly. Luke's a neat freak surprisingly. I've known him almost nine years and yet I'd never have guessed."

"Oh so it's Luke now?"

"I will seriously risk losing my job to punch you in your pretty, inbred, bourgeoisie face, you know."

Sirius whistled, "recycling jokes is tacky, Sempere."

Jasmine shook her head, laughing as she fixed a few sheets of parchment on her desk, bunching them together.
"Right, enough flirting, Black. What are you here for?"

There was still laughter clinging to the air, but the mood had altered slightly. Jasmine had pulled her glasses down over her nose and was in the process of pulling back her hair while Sirius spoke.

"Well I don't want to stick my nose in too much. I know you're doing your job and I should respect it. But I still want to know if you've made any other connections to my brother? He tried to warn me that night, which means he must have known something."

Sirius had already been to tell both Jasmine and Lucas about his encounter with Regulus a few days ago, he had even written Lucas a transcript of their conversation as close to reality as possible. But still there was something nagging him. He needed to know how his little brother knew, he needed to know.

"Darling, I've been over this with you. It might prove to be important, but we need to follow procedure. We need to start at the beginning and work our way up to Regulus. Me and Luke are new aurors, I've only been on the snatcher taskforce for a few months. If we don't follow procedure now, then later down the line we'll pay for it."

Sirius sighed, almost running a hand through his hair before thinking better of it. He wasn't about to ruin his style just to pick up one of James' nervous habits.
"Where are you now?"

"Like... stage fucking one. We're ruling people out. We need to conduct a few interviews but so far we're looking at people who follow Mary's timetable and figuring out when she might have been attacked, and subsequently how long the torture lasted before you found her."

Sirius shuddered at Jasmine's grave expression, and again at the clinical and calm way in which she delivered the information.

"Sorry for sounding so unsympathetic," she said suddenly, "it's just easier after a while. I knew Mary only from the MPP last year. She was a lovely girl so the more I remove myself from it, the more efficiently I can work through the early steps."

Sirius nodded, it was fair enough. Mary was lovely to just about everyone, and he wasn't sure, if he was in Jazzy's place, that he could do any of it.

"If you really want to talk to someone then it's Luke. He'll be working out a timeline as well. But I'll put money on the fact he's got a little side project going on where he's jumped into the middle. The other half of his brain will meet him there."

"You seem to know Luke pretty well, Jazz?"

"Kindly, eat slugs. I'm literally just out a relationship a month ago. Turns out the girl thought she was too old for me."

"How old was she?"

"Twenty four."

"That's nearly five years."

"That's what she said, funnily."

Sirius frowned, "I'm sorry, mate. I was just messing with you."

Jasmine smiled, standing up out her levitated chair and fetching a stack of more parchment from the other side of the room.
"Lucas agrees with you. Said the girl was an idiot, but that she had a point. I'll get over it."

Sirius nodded as he watched her get to work duplicating the papers.
"What are you doing?" He asked, if only to change the subject.

"These are timetables of people with at least one overlapping class with Mary on the day she was attacked. And the ones marked in blue share more than one class on the same corridor. The ones marked red have either detention slips, or house point deduction slips for discrimination of muggleborns. And the yellow marked ones are people we are currently in the process of discharging from being a threat. People like Esme-Leigh, her herbology partner, and a few others."

Sirius looked at the parchment she was continuously feeding into his hands and then back at her, a question in his eyes.

"I want you and the MPP to go through them, mark anyone you want us to have a further look at in purple, and anyone you want us to take off the list in pink. Also, for my own personal interest, I'd like you to mark anyone on that list you know to have a good reputation in with charms in orange. Specifically memory charms if you can. I examined the charm on Mary a few days ago and it was very clean cut. Of course it's hard to erase such a powerful memory seamlessly, especially given she's not a child but it has obviously been practiced and refined a number of times."

Jasmine talked with such efficacy it wasn't difficult to remember she had been Head Girl in her time as a Hufflepuff.

"So that's... blue for?..."

She chuckled, pulling a quill off the desk, "I'll write you instructions."

"Cheers."

Jasmine scratched the colours she wanted the timetables marked with and handed him the scrap of paper. "Dumbledore doesn't know I'm giving these to you. So don't say a word, alright? I mean, you can tell Luke, but that it. The MPP are a useful asset and I'm not going to have you twiddling your thumbs when I know you'd be useful to us."

A burst of pride shot through Sirius. They'd been building this reputation since their fifth year, when they began the MPP. They wanted to help, this was their chance.

He wanted to get a little sappy, but he couldn't. Allowing himself to feel that would open doors to the worry setting in. So instead he chuckled as he took the papers.

"So do you just have a thing for McKinnons then? Or?..."

"Get out of my office, you little shit. Give those timetables to James."

"Fine." He sighed melodramatically, getting up to traipse out the door.

"Don't let anyone else see them!" She called after him, "and don't fucking lose them!"

♣ ♣ ♣

(21st March 1978 continued)

"This is so fucking difficult," Ozma Periwinkle huffed as the group of older MPP students sat on the floor together, sorting through the timetables Jasmine had given to Sirius earlier that day.

"Yeah well, if it helps the investigation there's not much else we could be doing."

"We could be talking to Mulciber," Aliona replied through her teeth, more to herself than anyone else.

"That isn't helping anyone, Ali." James said evenly, "I know we're all eager to pin our colours to his flag but for all we know that bastard had nothing to do with this."

"Then we could be talking to my idiot brother?" Sirius countered, "he clearly knows something."

"You heard Jasmine," Marlene said, "she said wait until her and my brother get to that part of their investigation before we go throwing about accusations."

"Head Girl's right. And the last thing the aurors need is us butting our heads in and jeopardising the investigation. Which is why we've got to do this shit instead."

"Eloquently put, Prongs."

Only fourth to seventh year were here for the job as they were capable of filing the timetables, and they were more likely to know the people on the lists as they were only including fifth years and up.

It was getting dark. James had called their meeting after dinner and they'd been in the room of requirement for at least an hour and a half, giving the light an offish glow. But nevertheless, it was getting dark.

"Who's with Mary?"

"Trudy," Esme-Leigh replied, it was clear she'd been keeping track, "since she can't be here, in the MPP, she's the one with Mary. I'm going to go and take over once we're done here."

"No you're not."

"What?"

Marlene glanced up from her pile of parchment and coloured ink to shoot Esme a glare.
"You're going to go to bed. Trudy's fine up in the hospital wing, she wants to look after Mary as much as she wants you to sleep."

"Besides," Aliona added, "I can check up on her if you like? More over, who would you rather Mary woke up to? Sleep deprived you? Or little angelic Trudy who will call for you first thing she hears?"

Ozma laughed, almost snorting when she said, "angelic Trudy? Who nearly killed a boy for you?"

"Damaged her reputation a little bit that's how she's always been."

"Aye right."

Marlene narrowed her eyes at Ozma and Aliona, noticing something impudent in the air when James jumped in to diffuse it:

"Girls, she's five feet tall. She's hardly a threat to anymore. Besides, she literally fainted when she did that, Sirius had to catch her."

"Admittedly, people aren't usually so uninterested in me when the faint into my arms."

Remus scoffed, "and they do that often, yeah?"

"Almost too often to keep track."

"Keep dreaming, Pads."

A few MPP members laughed, it was nice to have a constant like Remus and Sirius in the club, it kept them from going mad when everything with Mary was spiralling further and further out of their control.

By the time James dismissed them, it was fully dark. Light had seeped out of the walls and replaced it with moonlight.

On the walk back to Gryffindor tower, James caught eyes with Esme-Leigh, remembering the last time he saw her in this way, bathed in moonlight.

She was beautiful then, her eyes a sea-glass blue and hair pale purple. She had asked him on a date.
Esme was still beautiful now, James knew, but there was something different about that beauty; or perhaps in the way he saw it. It was no longer a way to forget, but something that forced him to remember. To remind him that no matter what, other people cannot choose his fate.

Esme smiled at him, he smiled back. Somewhere along the way up the stairs he felt her hand slip into his. It didn't feel wrong like it had on their date, because it's intentions were not forced, they were for comfort, they were an extension of friendship. It was the only sort of love they shared. James made his peace with this fact.

♣ ♣ ♣

(21st March 1978 continued)

Marlene caught up with Aliona in the common room, catching her by the wrist and waiting for the other Gryffindors to pass before she spoke.
"What was that with you and Ozma?"

"What was what?"

"Don't pay coy with me, Aliona Connolly."

Aliona huffed, pulling the ponytail out her hair and letting it fall in wine-red waves.
"Fine. You know how I feel about Trudy. And I want her to be happy, and if that's with Ozma then that's with Ozma. So before I tell you this, please don't tell her?"

Marlene shook her head vehemently, "of course not!"

"Alright. Well, it's just that... Ozma has been acting weird, like irritable, around me since Mary's attack. Trudy said she's been distant too. Like she's hurt, more hurt than she's letting on. I didn't know she was so close with Mary."

Marlene watched her friends grey eyes shine with innocent confusion.
"Darling, you don't get it do you?"

"Get what?"

"The reason Ozma is upset is because you and Trudy have been more like your fourth year selves. Your separation anxiety is in full swing and everything. You've been sleeping in the same bed, you suddenly know everything about each other again. I think, without realising it, Mary's attack has brought you back to how you used to be– not just before Trudy confessed her feelings for you in sixth year– but how you used to be even before you went out with James."

"James? Trudy was jealous of James?!"

"I remember wondering at the time. It was when you became obsessed with wearing that strawberry lipgloss because James said he liked it that one time he kissed you when you'd been going out for about a week."

"Was I that embarrassing?"

"Absolutely, and Trudy still loved you."

"Fuck."

Aliona ran a hand through her hair, bunching it up at the nape of her neck before allowing it to drop again.
"Fuck," she said again.

"S'alright. You didn't know back then, and now she's got Ozma."

"For how long?"

"Sorry?"

"You saw how Ozma was acting with me. If this is because Trudy and I have gotten closer then I won't be able to help getting angry."

Marlene chuckled, "you are so northern, love."

"Shut up!"

"You are! But think on it before you go sending Ozma to the gallows, alright? You're lucky you've got a bed to yourself tonight seen as Trudy's in the hospital wing with Mary. I've been stuck with Esme-Leigh and it's a nightmare. The girl isn't much smaller than me but her legs go on for miles and she always manages to get them tangled in something. Me? The bed? Anything goes."

Aliona could tell Marlene was putting on this act to cheer her up but it was working.
"Yeah well Trudy's nearly stuffed-animal size, so much easier."

"Can we swap?"

They laughed together, "maybe one day."

"If you like."

Aliona was silent for a heartbeat. The sound of the fire and the flames became the only source of light and sound.
"I'd rather stick."

Marlene chuckled, making her way up the girls dorms.
"Thought so."

♣ ♣ ♣

(21st March 1978 continued)

Sirius hated the spontaneous bouts of insomnia he'd experienced since fleeing his parent's house. At first they were continuous, throbbing torture, where nightmares would force him to stay in the land of living until it physically hurt. Even then James would stay up with him, he would sit on the edge of his bed, talking his ear off about anything that came to mind, distracting him from thinking, forcing Sirius to forget. After a few weeks, Sirius would only sleep if James watched over him, like he were keeping guard of his dreams. Another few weeks and Sirius could fall asleep at the same time as his best friend, as long as they shared a bedroom. He never was quite able to kick that habit...

But every so often, in times like these, Sirius would find his thoughts racing as he stared at the ceiling, feeling too much, and the insomnia would return. He would usually spend those first few nights smoking too much as he sat out the window; then he would drink more coffee than was dignified until James noticed the tell tale signs, and he would keep guard again, until Sirius' racing mind would slow, leaving him at peace in a dreamless sleep.

It had lasted a number of days. James hadn't yet noticed, he'd been too busy with his own nightmares. Sirius couldn't blame him.

But Remus had noticed. There was a soft padding across the dorm floor, a pyjama trousers and odd sock clad Remus Lupin placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder which he used to balance himself as he sat down. They were both facing the window, Sirius' legs hanging out, Remus with his crossed.

"Your lungs will collapse, my love," he said in a whisper, nodding to the cigarette between Sirius' fingers, billowing metallic smoke like a storm cloud against the midnight sky.

"Maybe that's the plan," Sirius replied, his bitter sarcasm was not meant to amuse his boyfriend but he laughed all the same, softly and kindly.

"Must you always be such a dramatist?"

"It's my brand."

Remus let out another short breath, close to laughter but lighter. He bumped their shoulders together playfully before allowing his head to rest there. Remus was considerably taller than Sirius, but most his height was carried in his legs, allowing him to fit his forehead comfortably between the gap in Sirius' collarbone. He pressed a light kiss there as Sirius breathed the scent of what might have been honey from the sandy haired boy's shampoo.

"What are you doing out here, my love? It'll nearly be sunrise."

"I like watching those."

Remus sighed, "you prefer sleep."
If Remus' head wasn't on his shoulder, Sirius would have shrugged.
"I know you do. So why are you here? Puffing yourself to death in the freezing cold? Without a shirt?"

"You don't have one on either," Sirius commented, glancing over his boyfriend's curly hair to see the expanse of old scars stretched across his back; some older than others, the pale pink lines ebbed in history across the light freckles that persisted there. Others were nasty, a pain that Sirius could nearly feel himself. But Remus was beautiful. Ever since the boys had found out about Remus' predicament, he had been unembarrassed about his scars– perhaps it was the only place he was allowed to feel no shame surrounding them.

"You're changing the subject."

Sirius almost didn't hear him, he'd been too busy thinking that the topic of their conversation had left his mind.

Remus seemed to sense this, lifting his head slightly and meeting his eyes. They were golden in the moonlight, a pale, matted gold. A scar cut across his left eyebrow and Sirius leant forward to kiss it, ever so delicately. When he pulled back, Remus' eyes were still closed.

"You can't sleep, can you?"

Sirius said nothing, carrying his answer in silence. Remus understood.

"Come to bed, my love. You're safe."

My love. It was a name Sirius longed to hear everyday of his life. Remus called people by light pet names a lot –love, honey, dear, pet– it had been what inspired their idea to concoct nicknames for each other. But my love? That was a name reserved only for Sirius. It sent butterflies tumbling around his stomach, and the barest hints of a smile to touch his lips like a gentle, coy kiss.

"Will you come with me?"

Remus smiled, his smile was lopsided, but not like James– his was an audacious grin that dazzled teachers and struck girl's hearts. Remus' smile was more subtle, the right corner of his mouth would always tip the highest, that was when Sirius knew his smile was genuine. That was when Remus was his most authentic, and his most wonderful.

Remus' bed was still warm when they both climbed into it. This safety was different to the type James offered. With James, he would be Sirius' guardian, his protector. But Remus would calm his nerves by being with him, not there for him.

Once the curtains were shut, Sirius curled himself under his boyfriend's shoulder. Everything was safer there, even if Sirius was stronger than him, physically, it didn't detract from the fact that safety was guaranteed in Remus' arms.

Before he came, Sirius had been smoking away fear, worry, pain. Mary was in the hospital wing, sleeping off horrors she might never remember, but always feel. And it could have been anyone. That was what scared him the most. Any one of them could be in her place, in the eyes of Slytherins, each of them had a reason to deserve it. Himself and James, blood traitors; Marlene in love with a muggle, Remus a halfbreed; Peter an easy target; Esme-Leigh an pretty prize; and Trudy, revenge.
Any single person he loved could be there.

He voiced his thoughts to Remus, in a hushed tone, a whisper that was so quiet it might have been the wind.

"But it wouldn't have mattered who it was. Because it would still bring you here."

The thoughts keeping him up at night were swirling like ink in water. Blacking the blue, consuming, opaque.
"Regulus tried to warn me."

"You couldn't have known."

"I might."

A warm hand ran up and down his spine.
"You did, you got there. You found her, Sirius. Without you, it could have been so much worse."

"But with me it could have been better."

Remus said nothing, he did not try to convince him otherwise, he must have understood Sirius well enough to know it wouldn't work, but the warm hand began drawing patterns on his back.

"You did everything you could. Don't think too much about your brother, he thought he was doing you a favour, by trying. And he almost did."
This time it was Sirius' turn to say nothing.
"You need to sleep, my love. It's done now, and Mary will be alright in the end. She's built of iron nails, even if she doesn't look it. That girl is one of the strongest muggleborns we've ever known."

"I know."

"Then stop beating yourself up, my love, and go to sleep. Allow yourself this one luxury."

The soft whispers in his ears made Sirius hold on to the idea of sleep, softly pulling him there. And the fingers tracing patterns on his back, slowly formed into words.

I love you, they said.

Sirius fell asleep, smiling into the dark. The dullness of a cloudy sunrise only just beginning to spread across the room.

The darkness would stay, but it would part ways, to beckon some form of light. A way toward the living. Contrary to popular belief, this was where light led. The light leads to the living, the dark goes somewhere else.

Perhaps it might have been symbolic, if one could think long enough about it. Perhaps it said something about humanity, that they were the light and beyond was the darkness? Perhaps it spoke more about the beyond than it did humanity?

Would they ever really know?

That left Mary.

The light appeared, far away, humanity calling, before it flickered and died, leaving dullness in it's place.

Mary watched it go, wondering when it might stay long enough to venture towards it. Humanity called. Mary ached to listen.

Sometimes there are voices.

What did they say?

Well originally this was only going to be about 6000 words but I got carried away with Jazzy and Sirius' convo and then with the wolfstar scene.

Thanks to Mel for educating me on how English schools work while we nearly got lost in the city! Love ya

I'm literally in the middle of my exam season (3/5 done!!) but somehow writing this in the middle of the night has grounded me. I'm looking forward to updating more in the summer, maybe I can finish it by then?

Any predictions on Mary's situation? Esme-Leigh? The snatchers? I really wanna know what everyone thinks!

Love you all to bits!

Abbi♥️