This next chapter is dedicated to Aurora because she's very sweet and supportive of this book and my account in general! Love you!
AuroraPotter14 ♥️♥️♥️

(5th November 1977)

Despite it having been two days since Sirius Black turned eighteen, the marauders elected to wait until the following Saturdays to execute their traditional prank. The main reason being that Saturday was match day, and a prank added a little extra 'pizazz'– as Sirius had eloquently put it– to the day.

The air was thick with anticipation that morning. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables were a medley of nerves and anticipation, as per usual for a match day. However, for the select few in the know, this should not have been the only cause for anticipation.
Remus looked up for his plate of toast to nod at Marlene; who, in turn, nodded at James, then Peter until Sirius –who was stationed at the other end of the house table, flicked his wand in the motion Remus had described over one of the goblets, barely containing his giggles.

It was only a matter of seconds before the charm worked its magic, seeping through the little controls and ingredients placed along all four of the house tables like a magical plague. It wasn't long before the whole hall had erupted in gasps and laughter (and the occasional groan).

The marauders, Marlene and Esme-Leigh whooped with delight and marvelled at their own creation as Sirius ran up the table to join them. Every single item of food, crockery and tablecloth had been transfigured into ardent, if not violent, shades of red and gold.

"Brilliant! I can't believe it actually worked!" Peter cried, the incredulity heavy in his voice as he took in the glorious chaos around them.

"Of course it worked, Wormy, are you mad? We're the marauders!" Sirius replied, his voice booming as loud as his smile was wide. The prank couldn't have gone better.

"Look at Bauer's face!" Marlene pointed, hiding a giggle behind her hand– Marlene McKinnon does not giggle. But something about the Ravenclaw captain frowning at a plate of red and gold porridge was too much for her to handle.

"I think that might be the best thing I've seen in my life. And I'm Sirius Black: I've seen a lot!"

"I'd be inclined to agree. She looks just about homicidal."

"Or suicidal." Peter remarked, in a deadpan sort of manner.

"Perhaps both?" Remus suggested, sounding much too off-handed to be taken seriously. That was when the entire group really did giggle. Childish, stupid giggles. And they didn't stop nearly until the match began.

♣ ♣ ♣

(5th November 1977 continued)

James Potter was standing on one of the benches in the team changing rooms, the chalk board was exhausted from all the vigorous scribbling but was now abandoned while James gave his final pep talk.

"If we win this game then we go to the top of the league table. That puts us in an ideal situation for our game with Slytherin next month, so I need all of you giving me one hundred and ten percent. There's three seventh years on the team this year, so if you don't win for yourselves then do it for your teammates cause they deserve it, putting up with my shit all the time." James chuckled– a rare character break from his default 'austere captain' approach– and a few others joined him.
"Right," he coughed, "we've just about went over tactics till we bleed so I won't do it again. Black, Jones: beat the shit out of those bludgers. Sallanger, Richardson: do what we've been over, alright? Warrendire: razor focus. And McKinnon:" he locked eyes, seriously, with Marlene. It was clear her message was the most important. "Catch me a fucking snitch, will you?"

"I'll do my best."

"No, you will."

"I will."

"That's my girl," he grinned, "LET'S GO LIONS!"

The rest of the team cheered in a cathartic sort of roar as they followed James out the changing rooms, brandishing their broomsticks like pitchforks. They were going to win this match if it killed them.

James led the way with valour, marching down the tent like he'd done a million times before, with chagrin. But it was just as he reached the end of the tunnel, as they waited to be announced out, that he was hit with such force the absence of Esme-Leigh. McAuley Sallanger had been on the team for two years, they knew each other, but Richardson was a new addition. Sometimes when he looked at her James couldn't help but be upset that it wasn't who he really thought should be there. Esme deserved to be with them, scoring the goals and screaming with joy as she zipped round the pitch in victory whenever they won. Seeing her in the stands wasn't nearly the same.

James, being captain, was first to be announced by Remus, who was commentating for the first time today, and just before he made his way out he winked to the rest of them, then zipped away; cutting through the air like it was glass.

"Oh, here he comes: Captain James Potter, our little gem, though I doubt he'd appreciate the nickname! Followed by McAuley Sallanger and Zoë Richardson: our chasers. Next are beaters Sirius Black and Hestia Jones, then keeper Charles Warrendire and finally the brilliant seeker: Marlene McKinnon!"

The crowd went berserk as the team shot into view, their yells of appreciation were swallowed before they even left the player's mouths, greedy with excitement.

"And next out is the Ravenclaw lot! There's Aoife Bauer- Ravenclaw's captain and impressive Beater. Now the chasers, Gracie Wix, Fredrick Porter and Teddy Dowds! Now beater number two: Nyra Singh next keeper– Gabriel Marquez and finally here comes seeker Davood Zinamn! That's the Ravens!"

Once again the crowd consumed every square inch of the stadium and likely beyond. James wondered if there was a part of the castle where the match couldn't be heard at least faintly.

After a quick lap of the pitch James circled down to shake the hands of Aofie Bauer and Coach Trobb. The Ravenclaw captain gave him a look that was nearly polite, nearly a sneer, like she couldn't quite decide which she wanted to come across; as nice or threatening. Either way, she'd failed. To James' standards anyway.

She fixed him with pretty brown eyes that were hardened with competitiveness and James images his eyes must have the same look because Aofie only stared harder.
"Good luck," she said in a Irish accent thick enough to cut through, although she sounded choked. James much preferred last year's Ravenclaw captain, now alumni, Nina Fawkes. Nina was always kind to him. Aofie didn't strike him as the nice sort.

"You too, Bauer."

"I don't want any deaths on my pitch, okay? You know the rules. Stick to 'em, alright?" Coach Trobb droned, a fierce look in his eye. The two captains nodded.
"Righty-o. Up in the air then and we can get this show on the road."

With one final half-glance-half-glare at Aofie, James rose into the air to take his place between his chasers.

"Ready?!" A whistle blew and the crowd went mental once again.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!"

(5th November 1977)

"No Alice today?" Lily asked, puzzled, as she jogged up to meet Frank Longbottom whom had been sitting on a park bench, waiting for her.

"Nope, just me and you. You don't mind, do you?"

Lily smiled, "not at all. I've not hung out with just you since... primary school?" Her tone had a hint of light sarcasm and her smile only grew when Frank bumped her shoulder with his. They'd set off for his house via the park (and likely making a stop at the sweet shop).

"Shut up. I walked you home last week, didn't I?"

"You did, now I think about it. But Alice was sick that day and Dorcas had track training so it doesn't count."

"What?! Yes it does!"

"Absolutely not."

"Fine then, I guess I won't let you in on my secret then."

Suddenly Lily's interest peaked; she stopped her leisurely pace and held out a hand to abruptly halt Frank too.
"What secret?"

Frank smirked, a very uncommon expression on Frank; one that reminded Lily of someone she knows quite well...
"Okay, Nosy! Wait till we get back to the house before the cross-examination." He pulled her hand off his chest and looped it over his shoulder.

"Fine. But you know not to mention secrets in front of me, mate. I'm a bloody hound with a secret!"

Frank's bedroom was painted white and decorated mainly with a family of house plants, each with their own name and back story. When the two arrived on the premises it didn't take Lily long to put on a vinyl and slump on a beanbag (narrowly avoiding maiming Terrance the Succulent).

"So. Secret."

Frank nodded, closing the door carefully behind him and turning away from her, rummaging in his desk drawer.
Lily watched his curly mop of dirty-blonde-muddy-brown hair bounce around as he tore up the desk. It took him a few moments to locate whatever it was he'd been searching for but when he did there was a triumphant glint in his eye; soon replaced by nerves.

"I'm going to show you something and you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay? Least of all Alice," Frank's tone was perturbed and dangerously desperate. Something about this demeanour set Lily on edge.

"Keeping secrets from Alice? Are you kidding?"

"No." He replied bluntly but when he pulled the thing he'd been searching for out from behind his back, Lily gasped.

"No way?! Is that—"

"—an engagement ring. I got it off Alice's grandmother. She gave it to me a few months ago, she said she'd thought about giving it to me for ages but last week she finally did. It used to be hers— beautiful, right?"

Lily didn't speak for a moment, eyes wide and mouth agape. Frank was still shifting on his feet as he waited for Lily to say something rational about what a stupid idea getting married would be.

"It's gorgeous, Frank. Gorgeous. Alice is going to love it!"

"You don't think?..." he began but trailed off, unable to voice the doubts in his mind for fear of making them a reality.

"She'll say yes. She'd have said yes about two months into your relationship. Alice is like that, isn't she? Makes her mind up before the rest of her is ready."

Frank smiled a distant smile; it was clear he was thinking of Alice whenever he did that, with the look of whimsical longing in his saffron eyes.
"Alice leads with her heart." He said firmly, because he knew it to be true.

"Then she can only say yes."

♥ ♥ ♥

(5th November 1977)

"You're crap at hiding things, you know?"

Frank flinched at the irony but turned to face his girlfriend with a relative amount of facility– maybe a little too much. Frank was rarely the nonchalant type, unlike Dorcas' girl's crowd: they oozed that sort of demeanour, not Frank, however. He was definitely over thinking this.

"Crap at hiding what?"
He tried not to allow his eyes to flicker towards the desk drawer where Alice's grandmothers ring sat patiently for him to conjure the courage to use it.

Alice considered this question for a moment, her gaze putting him under intense scrutiny and the beauty of it all made him feel a little dizzy. Alice just had this way of being so everything all at once.

"I'm not sure, exactly," she replied eventually but Frank had already forgotten the question.

"Shame. I love you."

She beamed, "nine hundred and ninety nine."

Frank couldn't quite recall why she had begun to keep track of all the 'I love you's but they were nearing a milestone.

"Apropos to anything in particular: how'd you fancy a walk?"

And so Frank and Alice were strolling along the streets of Cokeworth that late Saturday afternoon, arms linked and matching grins. Stealing kisses and smiles, stupid jokes and jibes. That was how they worked most of the time. Just little things piled together to make a much larger mosaic of love.

"Where are we going now?"

"I had an idea," Frank glanced down at her, feeling the weight of the small box in his pocket, "come on."

They entered a small cafe, not their usual one, this place was more of a restaurant but during the day it served more like a bistro (Dorcas often described this place as a 'bougie coffeeshop').

Instead of sitting down, however, Frank led them to the back, bypassing customers and staff with a perplexed Alice in tow.
"I had an idea a while ago. I didn't think we'd be allowed but I asked the manger last week. If I was Dorcas then, perhaps, I wouldn't have asked on the off chance he'd refuse, but I'm Frank –of course– so I asked and he said it was fine."

Alice stopped him with a hand over his mouth, her honey eyes clouded with a mixture of concern and bemusement.
"You've yet to tell me what it is, darling."

"Oh! Right. Yes. Good idea. We're going to sit on the roof."

"Where?!"

"It's flat enough, isn't it?"

"Well... yes—"

He smiled, beaming sunshine, "then wonderful!" Frank led her up a small set of winding stairs to a fire escape, from there a small ladder brought them to the roof.

Alice wasn't properly sat down before she drew in her gasp.
"Frank! It's beautiful up here! Why'd we never notice this before?" She allowed him to take her hand to guide her steps onto the slightly slanted roof and sit next to him.

Frank smiled, something was in his eyes that Alice hadn't seen before. He pulled her into his chest and they sat in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the skyline worth of generations of architecture. Cokeworth was a patchwork of life, some parts of town hundreds of years old and others built in the last decade. That was one of the things Frank knew Alice liked most about it. It's everything-ness.

"Al?"

She hummed, reluctant to pull away from him and physically incapable of forming words. Or perhaps just reluctant.

"What's the count at, now?"

"Nine hundred and ninety nine. Why?"

"What would you say if I said it again?"

"I'd say that it'd better be special." She twisted her head up to grin at him and press a peck to his lips.

"I'd agree. It'd have to be the best one yet, right?"

Alice frowned, "I suppose so?"

"Good." He gently unraveled himself from her arms and shuffled back a few feet so they were facing each other, "then here I go. Alice Fortescue, you are all the things I like best about the world all rolled up into one person. I'm not sure how that's possible but there you are. And you're amazing. And beautiful. And clever, and funny, and vibrant and bubbly. I don't think I'd be half as happy as I am right now if you weren't by my side no matter what. So," he drew a short breath before pulling the velvet box out his pocket and feeling the debilitating weight of it transfer from his pocket to his hand, "so... Alice Fortescue, Al, will you marry me?"

For the longest second of Frank's life, Alice merely stared at him, doing her very best not to go sliding off this roof and into the alleyway below them. The ring was her grandmothers, she knew as soon as he opened the box. She'd wondered why her grandmother had stopped wearing it but it seemed to make perfect sense now.

She stared long enough to stop time completely. Frank was just about to close the box when she held out a hand to stop him, nearly frantically.
"No, no, don't do that! Yes! Yes of course I'll marry you! I'd be mental not to!"

It was only then –as he was breathing a sigh of relief and slipping the ring onto her finger with shaking hands– that he noticed they were both crying. A tear clouded his vision, making it even tricker to slide the ring onto Alice's hand. Once it was on he wasted no time in kissing her again. She tasted the same way she had for years, like honey and marshmallows and Alice.

"I love you, Al."

Her smile was radiant enough to compete with the very sun itself.
"That's a thousand."

(5th November 1977)

"The Quaffle begins with Potter, as most Quaffles do –the boys a bloody magnet! Right: here's Richardson now, and she's..." the voice of Remus Lupin was amplified with a charm placed on a microphone. He stood in the commentator's box with professor McGonogall on one side and Esme-Leigh and Peter on the other.

The Hogwarts students watched as Zoë zipped across the pitch, barley a blur with McAuley and James on either side of her, Sirius looping deliberate circles around her, protecting her from bludgers while Hestia set about directing the aforementioned at opposition chasers,

"Richardson goes for the goal and... SHES BLOODY DONE IT ALREADY! GET IN!— I mean, well done, Zoë. That puts Gryffindor ahead by ten to nil. Brilliant new addition to the team is the fifth year, if you ask me."

Zoë grinned at the commentator box, Remus shot her a thumbs up and she bolted off again.

James was waiting for her when she drew level, McAuley underneath them as they planned for an attack against the Ravenclaws.

"Lions better get a move on if they want to intercept this. It's Wix with the quaffle, Porter, back to Wix, now Dowds. Wait there's Black with the bludger and... YES SIRIUS!"

Sirius triumphantly swung his bat onto his shoulder as Teddy Dowds went spiralling for a moment of panic, dropping the quaffle before he managed to secure himself back on his broom.

"Richardson... GET A MOVE ON! WIX IS BEHIND YOU, GET YOUR ARSE IN GEAR— sorry, I mean, Wix goes for the interception and..." a bludger from Ravenclaw slammed into James' side and sent him tumbling a few feet in their air. A few students gasped.

"I'm sorry professor but that's a BLOODY FOUL! Filthy cheating bastards! The quaffle wasn't in Potter's possession, professor it's a bloody foul!"
In Remus' defence, most of the red and gold stand were hollering obscenities much more crude than him.

When Coach Trobb blew his whistle the Lion supporters cheered.
"Thank fuc— merlin for that!"

♣ ♣ ♣

(5th November 1977 continued)

It was sixty - eighty to Ravenclaw when James called timeout. Rain had come fast, furious and seemingly from nowhere in the last forty minutes and it wasn't making anyones job any easier, lest Marlene who hadn't seen the snitch once all day.

"We need a new approach. I hate to say it but this game might just kill us." There was never any preamble with James during intervals in a match. As soon as his team was around him he said his piece without interruption. There was little margin to 'faff about' as he tended to phrase it.

"If only the bloody rain didn't fog up my glasses," James muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Just as well I can fix that," came a voice from behind the team. Remus Lupin jogged up behind them, his wand by his side and a small smile on his face.
"C'mere," he held out a hand and took James by the shoulder, "if you stopped behaving like Billie-Jean  fucking King then you'd have realised that there's a charm to repel water." Remus flicked his wand, muttered an incantation and all of a sudden James' glasses were no longer steamed up with condensation.

"Have I ever told you you're a genius?"

"Millions of times."

Sirius whooped from the crowd of players, "you probably saved this match, Moony!"

Even with the rain pelting down on them it was easy so see Remus blush.
"I'm a star, Pads. A star. Now, I need to get back. Prongs: talk some sense into this godforsaken team!" And with that he was jogging away again.

James coughed, "right, sense. Okay..." he glanced quickly at the Ravenclaw team, still huddled in conversation.
"Right about now I can almost guess exactly what Bauer's saying to her team. The thing about Ravenclaw's team is that they're predictably clever. That's our advantage: we're just clever. So what we do is go back out and play their own game. Pull out all the stops, every play in the book, alright? Whatever I shout you do without question because that's what the Eagles are doing." His team were watching him keenly, nodding along, faces becoming more set as James spoke; he had that sort of effect on people. Belief.

"Bauer will want to change her approach, so we match hers. Easy. Oh, and McKinnon?"

"Potter?"

"You've got this."

Marlene smiled, "of course I do."

He nodded once, "good. Are we ready?"

The Gryffindors coursed a round of 'yeses' and 'yes captains,' making their way back up to the pitch, taking flight once more.
James turned to coach Trobb and gave him the signal. They were ready.

"And the game continues! I'm sure both teams will be back with a new approach. It seems Ravenclaw have come back strong, Porter with the Quaffle... shit— sorry! COME ON WARRWICK, GET IT TOGETHER! THERE'S THREE HOOPS TO GUARD!"

Twenty minutes later and Gryffindor had drawn level. But had cost themselves Hestia Jones to an aggressive bludger from Ravenclaws Nyra Singh.

"OH HOLY FUCK SHES SEEN THE SNITCH! —professor honestly, there are more important things— McKINNON DIVES AND... AND COME ON MARLENE! YES... YES... SHES GOT IT! MARLENE McKINNON HAS CAUGHT THE BLOODY SNITCH SECURING GRYFFINDOR A WIN AND THEIR PLACE TOP OF THE LEAGUE TABLE!"

The stands had only just begun celebrating and Remus had turned off his mic when it happened.

Nyra Singh swung a bludger in rage, then watched in horror as it shot towards James Potter. Unsuspecting, fifty feet above the ground. The students watching gasped, drawing the rest of the schools attention just as the bludger collided with James directly on his shoulder blade.

He went tumbling. Nyra went shooting after him, only managing to grab the tail end of his broom and slow him down. He still landed on the ground with a heart stopping crunch...

♣ ♣ ♣

(5th November 1977 continued)

"M'fine."

"No, you are not fine!" Cried Marlene McKinnon as she marched into the hospital wing like a bloody drill Sargent.
"It was a fifty foot drop, Prongs! Fifty fucking feet! If Josef Wronski was still alive he'd be up here with a bunch of fucking grapes and a hot water bottle!"

James groaned, swatting her hands away as she attempted to belligerently nurse him.
"Quit smothering me, woman! I'll be alright. Just a couple broken ribs."

"He's right," came the bullish tone of the young healer, Madam Pomfrey, "he'll be right as rain in an hour or two. He won't even miss the party– and I dare say there'll be one."

Peter grimaced, "you won't tell?"

"'Course not," the healer smiled, a look in her eye that proved she wasn't too sensible to enjoy a party. Yet.
"But Potter is also right, you've got to stop smothering him."

"That should be easy," Sirius chuckled a sardonic embellishment laced in his voice, "wait until bloody Esme-Leigh gets here."

Sirius's cynicism was proved correct about twenty seconds later when the aforementioned came scurrying in, Remus Lupin in tow, and proceeded to kneel at the end of James' bed, furiously assessing him for bumps and bruises, pushing his sweaty hair from his face and checking his temperature with the back of her hand.
"Merde! James, you've no idea the scare you gave us! I thought you'd died! I—"

"I'm fine, Ez. Absolutely dandy, and I'd be even better if you allowed me some space to breathe some air that didn't come out of your mouth," he smirked coyly before adding: "as pretty as said mouth may be.

Esme-Leigh's reaction was something between a guilty look, an eye roll and a blush. As if she couldn't quite decide which emotion to display so she chose all three.

"Put a lid on it, Casanova," Marlene sighed, "even on his death bed he's seducing women," she tried to make her glare seem honest but all she could see behind her eyes was Lily. Something like second-hand guilt clouded her vision, making her look less careless and more like she'd just bitten into a lemon like it were an apple.

"This is not my death bed. And if it were I'm sure my skills in seduction would still be more than satisfactory. At best, this is going to get me enough sympathy for a decent snog later tonight." James winked at Marlene, trying not to break into laughter when her eyes nearly burned him in half.

"Merlin, you are such a fucking man!" She groaned, although there was something fond there, deep down. She knew he wasn't serious.

Remus, who was doing his best to hide his concern for his friend didn't bat an eye in saying; "that's an insult to men."

"Hmm," Esme agreed, her hands still running through James' hair, "perhaps he's just a slag."

"That's an insult to slags!" Sirius exclaimed vehemently, "speaking as one!"

"Oh just shut up! I'm supposed to be on my death bed! Can't you all just go back to smothering me?"

Sirius choked, "ah yes, where are my manners? How are you, my darling boy?" He rushed forward to take both James' cheeks in his hands and inspect his face intently.

"Ger'off!"

Peter had to grip the wall for support, "will you stop flirting so we can leave James to recover?"

"I told you, Pete. My skills in seduction are as much of a curse as they are a blessing."

"What he really means is: that he'll probably play the wounded-soldier-gambit to pull tonight but his wiles are not best used on Sirius," Marlene blew James a kiss at the same time as she pulled Esme to her feet.

Esme-Leigh kissed his forehead, tucked him in a little more securely and left, looking meek when Sirius loudly scolded her for 'smothering the poor bastard again.'

(5th November 1977)

Sometimes the ability to forget was wonderful. Other times perilous. But it always began the same way: a blessing.

Lily opted to forget about everything important when Alice came running to her house to show her the ring and Lily announced that she'd known all along.

"Lily you absolute scoundrel! You didn't tell me?!"

"I'm not going to spoil your bloody engagement for the girl code, Al, darling. I'm not cheap."

The shorter girl nodded soundly, seeming to appreciate her point before swiftly returning to her state of frolics.
"We're going out to celebrate! Come on and get dressed! I'll wait in the living room, or better still, I'll come with you!" She then proceeded to all but barge in the front door, caramel locks billowing behind her in haste.

"Martin! Faith! You'll never believe it!"
To Alice, Lily's parents had always been Martin and Faith, never Mr and Mrs Evans, and since the bout of darkness had begun to lift in the house, Alice had resumed her regular visits. Faith was still a little more quiet and subdued, but Martin was nearly his old self, discounting the fact he smoked a lot more cigars.

"Won't believe what, darling girl?" Martin chuckled, puffing on the cigar between his teeth and regarding Alice with wild bemusement. Martin had always referred to Lily's friends as his darling girls– Frank included (Lily took great pride in the fact Petunia's friends Margaret, Gillian and Quinn did not get the same treatment).

"Frank proposed to me!" Alice all but squealed, holding out her hand for Martin to inspect.

"Did he? How lovely, and what did you say?"

"Martin!"

"I'm only joking. Faith, my love, come and see this!" Martin called, his red hair looked much whiter from the back.

Faith wandered in from the other room, appearing to be in a less airy mood than usual, a small smile was in her face as she put a hand on Lily's shoulder to squeeze through the doorframe.

"What am I to see?"

Alice answered before Faith's husband had the luxury, "FRANK PROPOSED!"

"Oh that's wonderful, darling! Let me see that ring!"

Alice was aglow with delight as she showed it off to Lily's mother.
"Is it alright that we're going out to celebrate? We won't be back late."

Martin just looked at Alice and chuckled, "won't be back late?! Are you kidding?! You're getting married, darling girl! I'll send you both away again if you're back early!"

Lily and Alice shared a beaming grin before both girls disappeared up the stairs to get Lily ready. She pretended she wasn't outrageously happy to see her mother loop her arm in her fathers and kiss his cheek tenderly. There were quiet words exchanged between them about 'young love' but that was all she managed to catch before Alice all but dragged her to the wardrobe.

♥ ♥ ♥

(5th November 1977 continued)

Forgetting begins as a blessing. Lily was nearly passed that stage.

She loved Alice and Frank, of course she did. But if she had to be witness to one more passionate snog then she might cry. Not least because the idea of engagement filled her with the most peculiar feeling of curiosity.

As they sat in the pub together, Lily couldn't help finding her eyes wander towards Alice's ring. She seemed to look different with it on. She seemed older, more established. Deliriously contented. Lily wasn't sure if the appropriate reaction was to gag or swoon.

The worst part of seeing Alice engaged was the sense that she was being left behind. Alice was getting married, Dorcas had been with Marlene for years, and Lily? She was still trying not to lose her mind over a boy in a boarding school. A boy who was absolutely batshit crazy; a boy who probably went off a girl as soon as he'd started dating them; and yet a boy who'd snuck out his prep school to hold her hand in a skatepark. Lily doubted he was a boy that thought a great deal about marriage, lest a marriage to her.

The group migrated from the pub to the street as they stumbled home, giggling, laughing, hugging and running in the cold air. It was well after dark when Lily was the last to go home, Dorcas at her side who'd insisted on staying with her for the night.

They tumbled around together so much that Lily didn't notice the man. The night walker watching her, with a pair of unblinking eyes.

Sometimes the ability to forget was wonderful. Other times perilous. This time it was the beginning...

(5th November 1977)

Trudy Nott enjoyed parties to a certain extent. She was quite content to sit in the corner of a celebration and be a mere spectator to the chaos that ensures with a Gryffindor party. Possibly being dragged to dance once or twice by Aliona. But Aliona wasn't there, at least Trudy hadn't seen her. And so she found herself placed on the arm of a love seat, pushed up to the wall furthest from the fire.

Music flooded through her ears even as she tried holding her hands over them, but all that did was add the clink of her collection of earrings to the sound pollution. It was best, she had realised, to just allow the music to flow through her brain and consume her entirely. If she stopped fighting it, suddenly it seemed more bearable.

"Not one for parties?" A silvery low voice hollered in her ear.

Trudy looked up to see Ozma Periwinkle, a gorgeous sixth year girl with dark skin and intricate braids. She was grinning at Trudy as if she were a bad idea.

"Not overly, but I do enjoy watching."

Ozma held a hand to her chest, as if her mild distain for parties were personally offensive to her.
"But the best part is being in the middle of it all! You get a much better vantage point from there, come on!"

She took Trudy by the hand and pulled her into the space cleared for a dance floor. It was abundantly clear that Marlene and Sirius had been given control over the music when her ears finally adjusted enough to recognise We Are The Champions by Queen bouncing off the walls, seeming to liquidate in the air.

Ozma took both of Trudy's hands in hers and began swinging them to the beat, turning them both under their linked arms and attempted to beat some rhythm into the older girl.

"You're not very good for a Nott!" She yelled into her ear as she dipped her in her arms. Despite being a year younger, Ozma was about a head taller than Trudy (although being taller than Trudy was not difficult. A healthy amount of first years seemed to manage it).

"Old purebloods train in classical dance, waltz, foxtrot, that sort of gig," Trudy replied, seriously underestimating how loud she'd have to shout.

"Well forgive me, darling, but you need to loosen up a bit! You dance stiffer than a board!"

"That's good frame for a ballroom dance!"

"But this is Queen, darling!"

Trudy didn't reply but she shook her head at Ozma, grinning wildly and forgetting how upset she was supposed to be feeling. Ozma helped her forget whatever she was supposed to be thinking about.

After what might have been ten minutes or two hours later, Trudy came to the realisation that Ozma was sort of like the music that blared around the common room. It was best to embrace it, allow it to flow through every crevice and curve and that made everything a lot easier.

Perhaps that was why she allowed Ozma to lift her up onto a table and why she allowed herself to kneel down on the table and cradle Ozma's face in both hands to the soundtrack of Money, Money, Money by ABBA.

The music wasn't a typically romantic choice but the look of Ozma's dark, inky brown-black eyes definitely was. It was almost definite that Trudy was drunk but she was having fun and ultimately wasn't that the point of being drunk?

She was sick of Aliona being in the back of her mind, bothering her. She was sick of loving her and her dirty laugh and her terrible jokes and her stylish manner. Trudy was sick of loving her in general. So sick, in fact, that she was willing to kiss Ozma in order to forget just how badly she wanted to kiss her best friend.

Ozma's kiss was sloppy and drunk but it still made her giddy. Trudy struggled to stay kneeling on the tabletop without tumbling right into her, given how far she was leaning off in order to kiss Ozma properly. She tasted like firewiskey and something else– coffee maybe? Or was it ginger? In all honestly Trudy didn't care. It was a nice kiss and she was drunker than she should be.

It didn't last long until Ozma pulled away, still holding Trudy under her armpits to keep her on the table.
"Oh... I... did you kiss me?"

"Yes? I think I did? Is that," she hiccuped, "is that bad?"

"No! No," Ozma shook her head, lifting Trudy back down off the table just as More Than a Woman by The Bee Gees came on from whatever record of player was spinning (ridiculously loud). This was a better song to kiss to, Trudy thought with a blush.

"I just didn't..." Ozma shrugged, "I didn't know you were?..."

"Well I've not made a song and dance about it but I suppose I am."

"Well I wish you'd told me sooner." Both girls grinned as they leaned in for another kiss, this one lasted longer and was just as lovely.

♣ ♣ ♣

(5th November 1977 continued)

Aliona swore she wasn't jealous of anyone. It was an ugly emotion. Jealously consumed a person, no matter for vigorously one may fight it. The feeling creeps into every vestibule, every crevice of one's body and overtakes them like a disease. But Aliona wasn't jealous.

The party was crowded to say the very least, every Gryffindor seemed intent on staying up all night, and she was positive she'd seen a couple of Hufflepuffs being smuggled in too, but that might have been her imagination.

It was odd to be back in the Gryffindor common room. She'd spent most of her time in the Head's common room with Marlene since she'd left the dorm (and she swears she's not hiding. She'll talk to Trudy eventually, but today didn't seem like the right time).

Despite how crowded the place seemed to be, Aliona still managed to locate Trudy. Perhaps it was because she knew where to look, or perhaps it was because, wherever Trudy seemed to be, Aliona's eyes would always follow.

Trudy had never been one to dance at parties, unless Aliona dragged her to the dance floor, she tended to stick to the perimeter and observe.

So why was she dancing with Ozma Periwinkle?

Aliona tried to ignore the burning feeling in the back of her throat, like she'd just swallowed fire as she watched Trudy and Ozma spin each other under their arms, giggling and speaking into each other's ears. Something about how happy Trudy was seemed to tear a hole in her heart and the fire at the back of her throat raged louder.

Sometimes jealously is sly, it will disguise itself as many other things in order to be felt without detection. When one is jealous they often use a barricade of excuses to avoid admitting this fact.

Aliona hadn't had much to drink that night, she swore it. But when Ozma lifted her best friend onto a table top and kissed her, Aliona felt something like bile climb up her throat. It wasn't until they kissed a second time that Aliona found herself sprinting to the bathroom to be sick.

♣ ♣ ♣

(5th November 1977 continued)

Remus surveyed the party from the table top he was dancing on, allowing Esme-Leigh to spin and fling him around like a rag doll with rhythm. He found he'd rather enjoyed commenting the match and his housemates seemed to agree.

"Wonderful perspective, Lupin!" Fourth year, Andy Tate said after the game– however Remus hadn't had much time to react to the compliment while running after Esme to get to the hospital wing and see James. Although, judging by the hearty smile he'd just shot him, Andy hadn't seemed to mind.

"You picked this song!" A shout in his ear said, it had a pretty French twang and melodic ring. Esme was smirking at him. What she'd said was a statement, not a question, however Remus still felt obliged to offer a reply.

"Might have suggested it to Sirius. Didn't think he'd play it, though?"

"Please," she dismissed with a flick of her red and gold hair, "Sirius'd probably climb a mountain if you asked him to."
Remus shook his head.

"Grave sérieux— dead serious, Moony!"

"Shut up! I thought we were dancing?" He shouted into her ear, slightly lightheaded from the overwhelming scent of lavender and honey she omitted mixed with sweat.
"I requested this song and you won't even let me dance to it!"

So they danced and laughed until the song faded into another. Esme shrieked when Remus picked her up and flung her over his shoulder.
"What the fuck?!"

"Marlene wants you to dance with her! Selfish woman, so I'm depositing you." He waved at Marlene from across the common room.

"Aren't there easier ways to do it?"

"Yeah but this is the quickest, let's go, Bisset!" He carried her across the table and laid her down in front of Marlene who had nearly folded in half with laughter.

"Remus you are my favourite person ever!"

"It's the firewiskey. I become somewhat a true marauder. Anyway, I thought you were dancing with Sirius?"

Over the music he didn't catch her full reply, only the words 'over' and 'boy'.
It soon became abundantly clear what Marlene was on about when she danced away from him to reveal Sirius; he was in the middle of the common room, one arm around a boy Remus only distantly recognised. Marcus... something or other? 

"Moony?"
Remus turned abruptly, yanked from his stupor to see James watching him with his head tilted to the side.

"Uh-huh?"

"I'm going for a smoke– you coming?"

"Why would I?"

James shrugged, he didn't appear intensely drunk but he swayed slightly as he spoke and even in the dark his pupils were overly dilated.
"Because I've been told that I become somewhat of a philosopher when I'm sloshed. And because you seem in need of some philosophies."

Remus considered him for a moment before nodding, "alright then, Confucius, where are we off to?"

James snatched a bottle of firewiskey on his way up to the boy's dorm balcony. Once they'd sat down James lit his cigarette and offered Remus the bottle.
"Where to begin..."

"Indeed."

He hummed, surveying Remus for a short moment before looking away and out towards the Scottish countryside.
"Well for a start I don't think Marcus Abbott is that good-looking. His sister, Hazel, definitely got the looks."

Remus scoffed, the image of Marcus and Sirius found itself in the forefront of his mind.
"Isn't Hazel a lesbian?" He said instead, in fruitless attempt at appearing nonchalant.

"I said she was pretty. 'Didn't declare my undying devotion to her!"

"Point made."

"And for the record," the Head Boy paused to exhale a cloud of cigarette smoke, he watched it mingle with the condensation of his breath in the November air before continuing:
"I don't see why you seemed so wound up about seeing Abbott dance with Padfoot."

"You know why."

"Oh, of course I know why, I just think it's stupid."

Remus did a double take of his friend's bluntness.
"Pardon?"

"Well you've never given Sirius any indication that you're an option. How'd you expect him to know if you've never told him?"

"...telepathy?"

James shook his head, snatching the bottle off him and taking a long drink.
"No."

"Easy there, Shakespeare."

"Shuddup. Fine, you wanna know something?"

"Go well."

James took a drag of his cigarette then turned to face Remus.
"Do you remember what you said to me when you came out to me and Marlene? You said your crush on Sirius was pathetic."

He shook his head.

"I told you it wasn't pathetic. It was human. And you said?"

This time Remus did know: "I said they were the same thing."

James lifted the bottle into the air and muttered cheers through another sip.
"Next question: when Sirius came to me for something the following week and I gave him the same line. What do you know he said?"

Remus shrugged, about a million different things came into his head.

"Ironically, Sirius said the same thing. Now," he put out the cigarette on an ash tray and hopped up unsteadily, "enough sulking. I'm the star of the party down there!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No idea. I just think that maybe the problem isn't that Sirius doesn't like you. Maybe you've just never shown him that you're an option." And without much more thought, James was gone.

♣ ♣ ♣

(5th August 1971 continued)

Aliona stumbled back down to the party, feeling less faint but the fire in the back of her throat was unshakeable.

"Are you alright, love?"

She turned abruptly to see James Potter with a concerned look in those hazel eyes that she very nearly fell in love with.

"I'd kill for a drink but that aside— fantastic."

"Well then," he smirked, "best we get you that drink."

They spent a long time together that night, drinking more than they should and laughing about things that, in theory, were not really that funny. If James noticed how her eyes always found Trudy then he didn't show it.

It was well after 2am and the party was still going strong when they found themselves slow dancing to a cheesy love ballad by witch, Celeste Cinhook. Aliona couldn't quite remember the title but it was something like Amortentia Hours. James had his hands on her waist and hers were around his neck, fingering with the dark curls at the nape.

"I can't say I'm fond of this song." He said in her ear, but he swayed his hips to the rhythm so he clearly knew it well enough.

"Why not? Don't tell me you're one of those guys that refuses to cry to love ballad songs? I thought I knew you better!" She replied, swaying with him.

"Oh-no, don't get me wrong— I looove a good love song. It's just that..." he paused and subconsciously Aliona remembered how drunk she was. They both were. It was a miracle their conversation was so coherent, and it would be a gift from god if she remembered it tomorrow.

"Just that what?"

"Well Amortentia Hours. Isn't it a little odd that a love ballad is about drugging someone to love you?"

"No, no, no, no!" Aliona slapped his chest lightly, leaving her hand there as they danced. "You misunderstand the whole song! Listen! She's singing about how being with the person she loves is like being drunk on Amortentia." Without thinking, her eyes travelled the room, scouting for Trudy and Ozma. They were nowhere to be seen.

When she looked back at James everything felt out of control. A million different thoughts were clouding her head and the only thing she could see was James, and he was pretty, and she was drunk, and Merlin, wouldn't it be a miracle if she remembered this in the morning?

James studied her carefully.
"You're about to kiss me?" Half statement, half question.

"Do you mind?" Fuck it.

"No, not at all. By all means you can kiss me," he sounded as though he were thinking the same thing.

"Good because I'm going to."
She kissed him as forcefully as she dared. He was a better kisser as he had been when she nearly loved him. He tasted as drunk as she felt and somehow that made it feel better and worse at the same time. She kissed him deeply, as if she were trying to kiss away all the incoherent thoughts she'd had that night and didn't want to face.

She pushed a hand into his hair as Amortentia Hours reached its dramatic peak. His tongue was hot in her mouth but it soothed away all the things she didn't want to think about. She didn't care. When the Amortentia Hours are up she'll forget all about them anyway.

so I know you might be mad at the end but I love making things messy and I really enjoyed writing this chapter even if it had no running theme and is a bit mismatched!

ive updated the side characters chapter to add Ozma Periwinkle. some of you will remember her from previous MPP meetings so I thought she deserved a spot on the list of recorded characters.

last thing, some of you might have seen my announcement saying that I'm looking to make a trailer for this book, if anyone has any app recs or face claim ideas for the ocs then that would be great!

Love always,

Abbi♥️