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Chapter Text

He’d never seen snow before. Not in all his 23 years as Evan did he get to see a single flake. Sure he knew about snow—he’d seen it in movies and read about it in books—but he’d only ever lived in Arizona, so he never got to see it in the flesh.

The first time Rose took Briar out in the snow, he could only stare transfixed at the falling stars around them twinkling in the streetlights. The tears on his face stung a bit as the cold nipped at them, but he paid it no mind. He was half convinced that it was soot raining from the sky, but Rose insisted otherwise as she explained to him that it was snow. She gave him a warm smile when he tried to catch a snowflake, frowning as it disappeared before it hit his hand.

He’d woken her in the middle of the night, and she’d taken him outside to try and sooth him with the snow. It worked enough that he’d stopped crying. Too fascinated by the new phenomena to remember any discomfort.

Still very young, the Evans siblings were only allowed to play in the snow if they were bundled in wool until they could barely budge a limb. This made getting around—which was already difficult with clumsy baby limbs—practically impossible. So, they just sat in the garden, and played with the few inches that accumulated overnight. Lily bursting out into a fit of delighted giggles every time he threw a handful of snow into the air.

It never got old. They did it for hours, until Briar’s face hurt from smiling.

It never got warm enough again that season for the snow to melt completely. Instead, it got brittle and disgusting. Only getting worse when a few more inches were added to it every couple of weeks. It ended up being pushed aside into piles, which his mother skillfully dodged with the double pram on their daily walks.

They weren’t allowed to play in the snow once it got like that—not that Briar would touch the stuff—but instead they were confined to the house. Outside of their walks, all he had access to were his siblings, and his mother’s endless variety of floral décor.

When he closed his eyes he saw the tiger-lilies dancing on the wallpaper in the kitchen. When he opened them he was met with the nursery’s daisy sheets.

The next winter was much of the same, and Briar decided he didn’t like snow much. It wasn’t anything like the movies. The screen had once promised him a white blanket covering the hillsides; women in fabulous winter coats and men with charming hats forced into romantic situations due to the weather— his personal favorite being when they got snowed in and were forced to spend the night together. But instead of something beautiful, snow turned out to be a rather nasty substance that quickly got caked in road muck and soot and just sat in ugly piles around Cokeworth. It was something that kept him from playing outside, shrinking his already tiny cage.

He wasn’t much looking forward to the his third winter, but he certainly didn’t anticipate what was to come. That December it snowed so much that the factory shut down for a few days. Then the workers were just forced to hike through the snow to run equipment that could barely start in the sub 0 temperatures. Everyone tried to stay hopeful, but it never quite got better.

Briar was half convinced that the whole world was going to freeze.

It was so cold, that Lily, Briar, and Petunia, all squished themselves into the same bed just to keep from shivering in the night. It didn’t matter how many logs his father threw on the fire, the house simply would not stay warm.

But the outside. The outside was absolutely brilliant at first.

Briar didn’t know he could even have so much fun. With the twins coming on three now, and Petunia already well into her fourth year, they could properly enjoy the snow. They chased each other around the garden with armfuls of snow and chucked snowballs at the neighbor kids in the streets. Each of them made a snowman to stand guard over the house, decorating them with Eric’s hats and scarfs that Rose had given them free reign over.

Briar felt like a real kid. Being called in for hot chocolate, sipping it as they warmed their feet by the fire and whispered about Father Christmas. Once given leave by their mother, they would run back out the door for more fun. Sometimes they got their parents in on it too. They went sleding with their father down the neighborhood hills and made a thousand snow angels with their mother in the field.

It all felt much more like the dream movies had promised him before. It filled his bones with a gentle, warm light.

For a while, he felt a bit uneasy about it. Not trusting the unfamiliar sensation that he didn’t quite know how to identify. Then, one night—squished between his sisters under their daisy patterned comforter—it came to him.

Home.

The feeling was home.

Briar had a home.

He had a family who loved him. Who he loved in turn. When he cried, they comforted him. When he laughed, they smiled. When they talked, he listened.

It was just too bad he didn’t actually belong there. A little feeling, deep in his bones, nudged him and reminded him of that every day, so he could never forget it.

He was an imposter. Playing the act of someone’s child. It didn’t matter how childlike he felt at times, that didn’t change the way his mother looked at him. The way his older sister looked at him. The way his father looked at him.

He was different. Not quite right. They all knew it,

After a while the snow’s excitement wore off, and it started to become more scary than fun. Their brick town was not built to withstand such cold temperatures. His father came home every evening more irritable than the night before. Cursing about broken down machinery and work-place injuries as he ripped off his snow encrusted boots. Rose would hover around him anxiously, trying to check him for signs of frost bite from his walk home. She barely flinched when he’d snap at her, fighting him for his socks so she could check his toes. 

Christmas time passed. Then New Years. It got warmer for a few days before Briar and Lily’s third birthday, and there was hope. But then the snows just returned again with renewed vigor, just in time for cake.

Briar had never felt anything like it. There were freezing fogs, and the ice on the streets got so bad that people started skating to work.  January was the coldest month in over 100 years, or at least that’s what his parents said. They also said that on the coast, the ocean froze, but he didn’t believe that for a second. He didn’t care what the newspapers claimed. 

As the days passed with little hope of the snow ever thawing, a fire started to lap at his chest. As far as he knew, he was very possibly in a parallel universe to the one he was in before. This one—theoretically—had magic. And some of the people with magic may want to hurt people without it.

What if the cold was a curse to cull away those that couldn’t use magic to warm themselves?

What if Briar’s birth—just by nature of the butterfly effect— had caused the end of the world?

He’d just found a home, a real home, and it was going to be taken away.

His home was going to freeze over, and it would be all his fault.

Briar would get up in the middle of the night in those long weeks, and sit in the window in the living room. Staring at the world being drowned by winter. The freezing glass against his head helped to sooth his burning chest, but did little to slow the racing thoughts.

***

March brought Spring with her. Not even a fortnight into the month and the snow was gone without a trace. Briar didn’t know what to think, feeling a little silly for his existential thoughts the month before. Time moved so differently now than it did before, and the three freezing months had felt like an eternity.

Still, on restless nights he couldn’t help but wonder what his presence might do to the world. Whether he was truly in the Harry Potter universe or not, he was still in the past. He needed to be extra careful not to step on any butterflies, or could lose his newfound home for good. 

Chapter Text

Briar stepped out into the evening sun from the boxing club, and was surprised to find his father there leaning against the car. Most of the time, Briar walked to and from the boxing club, and Eric only came to fetch him if he was running late. But that day, Briar was actually on time getting out. Rose had promised his favorite for dinner that night, Shepards pie.

His father lit up when he spotted Briar, and straighten out with a wide grin. As he got closer, Briar could see that his father was holding what looked like a small box. Then he realized it was a camera, and apprehension sunk in.

When he was a baby, the camera had been around constantly. At the time, he didn’t really care or fully notice. He was slower to catch on then. As he got older, the camera had been regulated mostly to holidays and birthdays. Rose had insisted on getting a new one a few years ago, promising that she would use a newer model more often, but Briar still never saw it outside of special occasions.

But it wasn’t a special occasion, and Briar hadn’t been prepared to meet a camera after spending the afternoon in the muggy club with the speed bag. His club uniform—consisting of a vest and a pair of short trousers—was drenched in sweat. His red curls were stuck on his forehead, and he still had healing scratches from a fight he got in with an older kid at school the week prior.

“Hullo pa,” Briar greeted with a heavy dose of apprehension. “What’re you doing here?”

Eric’s grin didn’t falter. “What, a father can’t take his only son home from the boxing club?”

Briar just eyed him, not trusting the joyful sparkle in his father’s blue eyes.

Eric rolled his eyes, and held up the camera a little more firmly. “Come on Bri, just a quick picture. For my birthday.”

Eric’s birthday wasn’t for another few weeks, but he didn’t seem to care about that. So Briar indulged him, telling himself it was only for the Shepards pie.

“Stand against the fence,” his father instructed with a wave of his hand. “We’ll use it to track your height, reckon it’s about 5 foot, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Briar agreed, not really paying attention. He crossed his arms and stared straight at the camera. “Just take the picture so we can go home already.”

“Smile Bri,” Eric asked, his own small smile peaking out from under the camera. But Briar refused, and after a moment of failing to convince him, his father decided to just be happy with what he got, snapping the photo.

It was developed just in time for Eric’s birthday, and so Briar put it in a frame and wrapped it for him. His father loved it, and made him swear to give him one for every year after. Briar agreed reluctancy. He hated the way the crappy color film washed out his hair, and he knew that in a few years he would be off to Hogwarts and wouldn’t be around for his father’s birthday in late October.

But his father’s smile and affectionate ruffle of his hair, made it all worth it. That year, and the year after. Then came his Hogwarts letter . . .

Chapter Text

When Professor Dumbledore got promoted to Headmaster in 1965, he didn’t appoint a Deputy Headmaster right away. Much to the chagrin of the board, the ministry, and his subordinates, he insisted that it was simply too early for him to make a choice.

“I may know the professors as a peers,” he reasoned to them. “But it will take time to know them as a leader.”

Minnie didn’t pay his delayed decision much mind. She was still comparatively new as a professor, and with Albus’s promotion, she was adjusting to new responsibilities as Head of the Transfiguration Department as well as the Head of Gryffindor house. Though her and Albus were close, and had been since she was one of his students herself, it barely crossed her mind that he might choose her to be Deputy Headmistresses. There were so many other professors that’d been there longer than her, and though she worked hard and loved her job, she hardly felt deserving of such an honor.

But somehow she managed to get it anyway. Albus stopped by her cottage himself to tell her the good news just as summer holiday began in 1971. After he left, she stood and stared at the castle, it’s tallest towers just barely in view over the trees surrounding her humble home. She stared for hours, until darkness started to spread from the setting sun. She reflected on her time in those stone halls as a student, eager to learn. She thought about Dougal and his muggle family, and how it could’ve been hers. She thought of leaving the ministry and becoming a professor, of all the students she’d seen grow up along the way. Then she thought about the future, and how as Deputy Headmistress there would only be one place left for her life to go.

Headmistress of Hogwarts.

She adjusted to the idea over the next few months, flying through paperwork and overviews of new responsibilities. Being Deputy Headmistress didn’t change much other than her title, but she did have a few more responsibilities and was expected to keep a closer eye on operations than she used to. She also had a much more active role in helping the students before they got to Hogwarts. She oversaw every acceptance letter and it was her duty to inform muggleborn students of the magical world.

Albus accompanied her on her debut visit to a muggleborn family. She didn’t know if was the usual fair—as the Headmaster of course was Deputy Headmaster first, and would know the ropes— or if her old friend could just sense her nervousness. Either way, she was grateful for his help.

She arrived earlier than him in the early hours of the morning unable to sleep. She slipped into her cat form as easily as taking a step, immediately finding a bit of relief from her nerves in her simpler feline mind. The Evans family was first alphabetically, and she’d been surprised to find two muggleborn first-years under the name rather than one.

As a cat, she sat but the doorstep waiting for her companion to arrive. The family was mostly quiet over breakfast—nothing like the roar of students from the Great Hall every morning— the father only stepping out to grab the morning’s paper from the door step. She could already tell from the few neighbors she saw wandering the streets, that her old muggle dress was decades out of style.

But it was too late now to change it. Plus Albus had told her that wearing strange muggle clothes to visit muggleborns helped them better to believe them right off the bat. It was easier to take strange news from strange looking persons then from that ones that looked just as normal as anyone.

When Albus arrived, he sent her a warm smile. She went around the corner of the garden to better hide herself from view—making sure to look around for any prying eyes—and slipped back into her human form before joining him by the door.

He sent her a reassuring smile—which she returned— before knocking firmly on the door. A few moments later it swung open, to reveal a young girl about the right age. She had thin blond hair and wide blue eyes as she looked up a them, confused.

It seemed she’d been expecting someone else.

“Good morning young lady,” Dumbledore smiled wider, bending down a bit to help their height not seem as intimidating. “Are your parents home?”

She nodded quickly.

“We would like to speak to them, if you would be so kind as to grab them for us.”

The girl quickly sped off to the kitchen, reemerging a few seconds later followed first by a red haired man that stood a few inches taller than the headmaster— an impressive feat— and then a women with hair to match her daughters. Then behind them, a boy and a girl that could’ve only be twins, with their matching red hair and green eyes.

She knew immediately why there were two names rather than one. Muggleborn twins were rare— rarer than muggleborn siblings, but mostly just because twins were less common— but when they did come about, both twins were almost always magical.

The parents were immediately on edge, and understandably so given their appearance and their chosen time of calling. Albus took the lead, extending a friendly hand to the father. Minnie extended her own hand when it was appropriate, but mostly occupied herself with studying the two she’d identified as her future students.

The girl looked like she was practically vibrating with excitement, almost like she already knew why they were there, while the boy had his eyes locked onto the ground, looking anxious and troubled. She saw hints of scars on his face, and she could see that his knuckles were bruised and cut as he held his hands in tight fists by his side.

Once they’d sat down, McGonagall took the lead, giving the family the speech she’d practiced with Albus the day prior. As expected, there was some pushback, but once she’d shown them the tea cup trick, they were thoroughly convinced.

Mrs. Evans fired off question after question, but Mr. Evans just sat there looking rather like he’d swallowed something bad, only occasionally speaking up to ask for clarification. They left after giving the family clear instructions on where to meet them so that they could go together to Diagon Alley. As they stepped out of the house, Minnie found her mind stuck on young Briar Evans, receiving the news like he’d been told the end of days were soon approaching.

She couldn’t help but wonder if those bruises on his face had come from his parents. Especially given how his father’d reacted. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but after years as a teacher, she was unfortunately vividly aware of that many of students faced more horrors at home then they ever would at Hogwarts.

She made a mental note to keep any eye on it. If his parents were abusing him, there was little she could do, but there was a possibility it would only get worse now that they knew the truth about him. If it was bad enough, she’d have him visit the hospital wing first thing once he got to Hogwarts. Their new matron was far more attentive than the last one, and would make sure he didn’t have any lasting physical damage from the abuse.

As they walked down the garden walkway to the gate, Albus spoke up.

“How do you feel now Minnie?” He asked.

She gave him a grateful smile. “Much better,” she said truthfully. “I think I’ll be okay to handle it from here on my own. Though I truly appreciate your help in this Albus.”

“Of course,” he said with a wider smile. “Anything for my new Deputy Headmistress.”

His emphasis on her new tittle sprouted her own smile, and she waved him away with it as he apparated, promising to check in with him once she was done with the rest of the students.

She looked down at her list, the next student on her list was Mary MacDonald. She disappeared with a sharp crack, not spotting the Evans girls in the window watching her as she vanished. 

Chapter Text

Sirius’d been anxiously awaiting his Hogwarts letter all through 1971. He’d turned 11 in the previous November and had to 8 long months before his letter arrived in July. Once the owl dropped the letter, all he could think about was getting out of dark, damp place that had  housed him since birth. He would flip Hogwarts a History long after the rest of the family had fallen asleep. He would dream of the running around the castle, free to do whatever he’d like.

But he knew that it wasn’t going to be like that. Not really.

Sirius was not a . . . well-behaved child. He frequently orchestrated pranks—particularly on his mother’s house elf Kreacher—and only made them more wild and ill timed the more he was punished. He couldn’t say as to why he acted out so much, but he knew that it gave him a rush of excitement every time he saw  his plan come to fruition. And the frustration on his parents face as they failed to reel him in.

There was also the addition bonus of making Reg, his often somber younger brother, laugh. It filled Sirius with so much joy to make Reg laugh, that it got him through any awful punishment his mother had Kreacher put him though.

Now Sirius finally sat on the Hogwarts Express. He could still just barely see his mother’s hat over the crowd as they made their way to leave. They weren’t going to even wait until the train left the platform to go home. It didn’t surprise him, after the chilled warnings he got as a farewell, but it still sent a dull ache into his chest. After all his nights dreaming of Hogwarts and the Hogwarts Express, he was here and somehow all Sirius could think about was Reg. Who was going to make him laugh while Sirius was away? Who was going to protect him against the constant hate that was being thrown around their household? From the Death Eaters that came for their parents’ parties, got drunk, and started pulling wands out?

He tried to get a good look at Reg as his parents got into a clear enough area to apparate away. But just as they cleared the crowd, his compartment door slammed over with a loud bang, shocking Sirius into looking away.

There was a boy, about his age standing there. He had ragged, used robes on full of moth holes. His greasy back hair hung around a narrow pale face, and his dark eyes held a stubborn determination to them. He glared at Sirius, who eyed him warily back, before looking away. He tried to find his family with his eyes again. But they were long gone.

He slightly hated the boy then, for stealing the last chance Sirius had to see his brother until Christmas break.

The intruder boy put his trunk up top the opposite bench, but he didn’t sit down. He stood by the door and looked up and down the corridor like he was trying to spot someone. Sirius couldn’t help by eye him out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t understand why the boy would’ve decided he had to bunk up with Sirius. There must’ve been a ton of other empty compartments further into the train. Most of the students were still on the platform saying their last farewells.

After a few minutes, the strange boy seemed to find what he was looking for and called out down the hall in a shouting whisper and a frantic beckon. “Lily, come here.”

A red-headed girl with pink skin peppered in freckles appeared in the door way, still hauling her truck behind her. She lit up when she saw the boy, and let go of her trunk to give him a tight hug. “Sev! Can you believe it? We’re finally going to Hogwarts!”

The pair chatted while Sirius subtlety observed them. The girl was wearing strange clothes that Sirius didn’t recognize, but still kind of liked. As they continued talking he concluded that the girl was likely a mudblood while the boy was a half-blood. He’d never properly met mudblood or half-bloods before. His mother made sure he stayed far away from them.

Remembering her painful punishment when he’d dared to ask too many questions about muggles, Sirius tried his best to tune out their conversation as he stared out the window. Then the train started to move, and the girl—Lily the boy had called her— had yet to settle into the compartment. She looked hesitant as she looked at her trunk.

The boy, Sev, quickly lifted it and placed it next to his own. Then sat and patted the bench, looking a little desperate.

“I don’t know Sev,” she slightly protested. “Bri told me to come find him, I don’t want to just abandon him.”

Sev’s face darkened at that, whoever this Bri person was, he was not in Sev’s good graces, that was for sure.

“Is he your minder now?” Sev sneered. “If he wants to sit with us, he can come find you.”

Lily looked rather upset and offended by this, but ended up sitting anyway.

Sirius tried his hardest to keep his mind on Hogwarts, and his brother, and the countryside appearing as the train exited London. But his uninvited companions had intrigued him.

He thought that mudbloods were supposed to know nothing when they went to Hogwarts. That was part of the reason why they were so useless, according to his parents. But this girl seemed to know not one, but two wizards already. It didn’t make any sense.

The pair spoke in hushed voices, as if they were worried that they might disturb Sirius, but instead he just found himself listening harder to hear what they were saying. If they had spoke in normal voices, he would’ve been able to tune them out much easier. They mostly were arguing about this Bri fellow. It seemed he was Lily’s twin brother. Sev wanted him and Lily to be in Slytherin. But Bri didn’t want to be in Slytherin, and Lily didn’t know how she felt about being in different houses than him.

“Why do you care?” Snape sneered, looking more sad than angry. “You told me that he literally abandoned you in Diagon Alley to get his wand alone. He obviously doesn’t care about spending special moments with you, you said so yourself. You said that you wanted to try and be more apart from him because of that. Remember.”

Lily looked on the edge of tears, and Sirius quickly looked back out the window when he realized he’d been looking so intently that he could see the unshed tears in her green eyes.

It was none of his business. He had other things to think about. Like how he was going to ditch Cissy once he got to Hogwarts. There was no doubt that his mother had instructed her to keep him out of trouble, and she would be reporting back to her aunt regularly to make sure he was staying in line. He wished he could just be sorted into another house. But He’d made the mistake of implying that it wouldn’t be so bad if he was sorted into Ravenclaw, and his mother had screamed at him for over an hour about his duty as Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

He had to be sorted into Slytherin, or face her wrath.

Even if he was trapped under Cissy’s watchful gaze, he was determined to find a way to have fun. He couldn’t have fun at his house, and once he was older he would be forced into the Death Eaters and likely die before having fun. So the only time he had left was these precious Hogwarts years, and he was going to make the most of them no matter what.

Suddenly— again— the compartment door slammed open. This time a red headed boy entered, his green eyes looking furious. Behind him was a boy with a wild mop of brown hair, dark skin, and glasses, peering over his shoulder.

Chapter Text

#1 Primary School (Cokeworth, late 1960)

Lily was used to being a twin. After all, she’d been one her whole life, and she had always loved it. It was like she had a built-in companion for life. When they were very little, Briar was her whole world. He was always by her side, holding her hand and making her giggle. It was like he had the answer to every question she could ever ask.

All she had to do was follow Briar and she knew she would be safe.

Then they discovered their magic, and it was just another thing to share between them. Another thing just for them. She treasured the time they spent practicing—despite the way that Petunia would occasionally butt in just to tell them they were freaks.

Then, something happened that she would remember for the rest of her life. She was coming out to the garden to practice magic, and she found him. Briar was staring intensely at the cat as it walked around on its hind legs. The poor tabby was howling and crying, but Briar face was twisted into a dark grin as he used his magic to manipulate the animal to strut around.

She could only gasp in horror, covering her mouth with her hands, as she took in the frightful scene. He turned to her, green eyes looking into her own. She spun on her heel and ran. She ran until she reached the end of their road, where she stopped, bent over panting.

She didn’t know until then— in her naivety— that magic could even be used for such dark means. Nor did she realize, until that day, that her twin might be capable of such an evil act.

It didn’t make sense to her. She’d think on it as she sang the hymns in church every Sunday. Briar was her twin, her other half. He was made in the same womb at the same time as her. But why did he seem to have so much darkness when all she felt in herself was light?

He got worse as they got further into school. She could tell he wasn’t sleeping much. He came downstairs every morning with bags under his eyes. At school he was snappy and quick to fight the other children. It became hard to be around him. Most of the other girls were scared to approach her if she was with him, and he was so difficult to be around that she started to drift away from him.

One day, Briar got into a particularly nasty fight with a boy a grade above them. He was sent home early straight from the headmaster’s office. Lily was left to carry his stuff home by herself. She was gathering it in all into his bag when the teacher approached her.

“Would you mind if the headmaster asked you a few quick questions Miss Evans?” The teacher asked. Her blue eyes were a few shades darker than Lily’s Pa’s, and while they looked down at her with kindness now, Lily’d seen cruelty in them when she’d punish Briar in front of the whole class. Or sent him off to the headmaster’s office for a beating.

It made Lily nervous to have the teacher’s attention on her, and she looked down to avoid the older woman’s gaze. “No, Ma’am. I don’t mind.”

As she was led down to the headmaster’s office, Lily felt her heart begin to race in her chest. She went through the day in her head, looking anything that she may have done to connect her to Briar and his fight, but she couldn’t think of anything. She wasn’t even there when it happened. He’d picked his fight behind the school, while she was in the middle of the football field with her friends picking the flowers before the groundskeeper mowed them down. She’d barely talked to him that morning, as he was in an awful mood and wouldn’t listen to a word she said while they walked to school with Tuney.

But, to her surprise, the headmaster didn’t even mention the fight.

“You’re not in trouble,” he explained after noticing her nervous fidgeting. “I just want you ask you a few questions about your brother Briar. Is that okay?”

She nodded, though she still felt uncertain. Her stomach ate itself, and her heart fluttered. She’d never tattled on Briar before, even if she would threaten it from time to time. But she’d also never been put into a situation where she’d been pressured to tattle before, and she wasn’t certain what she should do.

She didn’t want to tattle on her brother, but she also knew he would be angry with her if she got into trouble on his behalf.

“Your parents say that he helps you with your coursework. Is that true?” The headmaster asked. He had a pen held over a worksheet. She couldn’t quite make out the words, but it looked an awful lot like one of their exams they had to take before Summer Holidays.

Lily was taken off guard, trying to figure out how that related to Briar being in trouble. She decided to just nod again, not wanting to accidentally give anything away.

The headmaster gave her a small smile at her silence. “No one is in trouble here Ms. Evans,” he assured her. “We’re just seeking to understand your brother better.”

She shifted in her seat, still uncertain. But in the end decided it was just best to tell the truth.

“Yes,” she answered. “He helps me every night. He finishes his so quickly, so he says he doesn’t mind helping me with mine.”

The headmaster nodded. “Thank you, Miss Evans. Now tell me, does your brother seem different than other kids, to you?”

She swallowed, not certain what the best course of action was. If she told the truth and said yes, something bad might happen to Briar. That’s what her parents were always fighting about, when they were trying to be quiet, late at night.

But if she lied and said no, she could get in trouble. Briar was sure to be furious with her if he found out she got in trouble on his behalf. And she’d never been in trouble with her parents before, but she was terrified to find out what might happen.

She settled on what felt like the safest option. She shrugged and said, “I don’t know.”

There were a few more questions that she answered as well as she could. Many of them simply didn’t apply to Briar, while others were so spot on, she was sure they were testing her. They sent her away after, and she was surprised to find her father there to pick her up. A little while later Briar went into the headmaster’s office with their parents and when they got home things were tense. Their parents fought a lot that night, so much that for the first time in a while she thought about crawling into Briar’s bed for comfort.

She just hoped it wasn’t all because of her, or anything she might’ve said to the headmaster that day after school. But she never got to find out. Briar and their parents acted really strange for a few days. Then suddenly all Briar wanted to do was hang out at his boxing club after school every day.

No bothered to talk to Lily about any of it.

***

#2 Under the willow tree (Cokeworth, 1970)

Lily watched Briar stride away, Sev left still fuming in his midst. She rested her head on her hand and pulled her knees up to prop up her elbow. The summer sun filtered to through the willow leaves and speckled the ground in front of her with shadows. She didn’t even know why the boys were fighting this time. They always seemed to be fighting. Sev usually started it, but Bri didn’t do anyone any favors with the way he choose to respond.

Sev plopped down next to her with an angry sigh, flopping his head back and propping himself up with two hands supporting his weight.

“Why is he like that Lils?” He asked after a moment of silence. “What’s wrong with him?”

Lily immediately snapped her head up and then considered him with a sharp eye. “Nothing is wrong with him Sev,” she said in a cold voice. “Have you ever considered you might be the problem?”

Sev immediately looked offended, then hurt. He turned away from her, silent. The heat of the moment fizzled out, and Lily started to feel guilty. Sev already got enough snapping and cruel words at home, the last thing she wanted was to have him feel that way with her.

Which was exactly why she should’ve kept Briar away from him. But she was worried he would get in himself into trouble on his own. He always seemed to, in one way or another. And he couldn’t spend all of his time locked away in that sweaty old boxing club.

“I’m sorry Sev,” she said softly. “It’s just that he’s my brother. I know he can be a bit difficult, but you have to admit you egg him on.”

He sat up, and pulled his knees to his chest, mimicking her pose, but with his head on his knees. They sat in silence for a long moment. She stared at the river, and the trash floating by, while Sev stared at her. When he spoke up, it was so quiet she barely caught it.

“Why do you always ask him to hang out with us?” he asked. “It always ends like that, and I know he’s not coming because he wants to. So why do you always ask him?”

She didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze on the river so he wouldn’t see the unshed tears forming in her eyes. She knew that they didn’t get along, and that putting them together almost always ended in an explosion. But she every time, she hoped it would finally be the time they would get just along.

Or at least exist peacefully near each other.

Briar was her brother, her twin, the most important person in her life. Sev was her best friend, her confidant, and she had seen his home and decided then and there she would do her best to protect him from the darkness of life. All she wanted was for him to love her twin just as much as he seemed to love her. She was the only friend that either of them had. Bri never talked to the other kids in class unless absolutely necessary— or to fight them— and Snape was homeschooled by his mother and didn’t interact with anyone outside their household besides her.

Maybe, just maybe, they could have each other too. Then it wouldn’t just be Lily playing an impossible balancing act between the two.

***

#3 The Common Room (Hogwarts 2^nd of September 1971)

When she and Briar had been sorted in the same class together, she’d surprised herself with how excited she was. She’d secretly been hoping that she’d share a house with her twin. As she fell asleep that first night, she imagined them becoming as close they were when they were very young. They used to go everywhere together, share every secret, be able to tell what the other was thinking by just sharing a look.

Then the next morning came, and Lily decided to wait for Briar before heading down to breakfast. She glared at Potter as he plopped down beside her on the couch. He sent her his best smile. She rolled her eyes and pulled out her Charms book, so she had something to look at.

Eventually the common room emptied out, and it was just Lily and Potter left waiting there. Potter kept his eyes on the stairs, his eyebrows got closer and closer together the longer they waited. His legs were bouncing so hard it was shaking the whole sofa.

Lily sent him a glare, attempting to get him to stop. But the other boy was too busy staring up the stairs like a lost puppy to notice.

“Can you stop,” she snapped.

Potter’s head turned to look at her. He stilled instantly at her sharp tone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He ducked his head and ran a hand through his hair.

She gave a nod and went back to staring at her book. It was still early enough that they’d have plenty of time for breakfast, as long as Briar woke up soon.

“Does he usually wake up late?” Potter asked.

Lily shrugged. “He’s usually up late.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever he wants I suppose.”

Chapter Text

1st September 1971

Dear Mum,

As promised, I am writing to you at the first chance I have. I am currently sitting in my dorm, under the light of a candle, writing to you with a parchment and quill. Hogwarts is amazing Mum, it’s literally a castle!

It’s almost as if we’ve fallen through time.

You’d love it here Mum. We crossed the lake with boats and saw the whole thing at night. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. The Great Hall’s ceiling is literally the sky. You could see the stars well enough that I could find constellations. The air is so clear here, and everything is so alive. Even the paintings and suits of armor move!

Bri and I were sorted into the same house, and by a talking hat no less. The hat told me that I was courageous and bold, and that I was destined for greatness. It said there was no other place for me but Gryffindor. Sev wanted me to be sorted into Slytherin with him, and I know he’s disappointed that I wasn’t. Slytherin is Gryffindor’s rival house, people will think it’s weird we’re friends. But I can’t help but be grateful I’m with Bri. Plus, the Gryffindor tower is so warm, and cozy and I’ve heard that the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons under the lake.

The hat said I was courageous. I hope I can live up to that. I’m not going to just stop being friends with Sev because we wear different colors on our ties and have different common rooms. I’ll make sure he understands that.

 I’m going to keep an eye Bri, just like you asked me too. Though weirdly enough, he seems to have made a friend or two already. I’m not sure if they’re the good sort though, so I’ll keep you updated.

Already missing you.

Lily J. Evans.

P.S. Is Petunia still mad at us?

***

2.9.71

Mum,

Lily dragged me to the owerly today claiming we had promised to send you a letter. I think that was just you and Lily thing (as the only letters we discussed were the ones you didn’t want to get), but I figured I’d send you one just in case I missed something.

So yeah, I’m alive. Haven’t punched anyone yet, but it’s still the first day so. . .

Your son,

B. T. Evans

***

Third of September 1971

Dearest Lilypad,

I won’t lie and say I completely understand what you are referring to with talking hats and moving suits of armor, but it comforts me to know that you and Briar are together at school. I know you two will take care of each other, just like you always have.  

I’m so proud of you, my love. You have always been brave, and I know that you will always live up that. Stay strong love, don’t let other people and silly traditions decide your happiness. (But please let me know your house colors. I’m sure Father Christmas will want to keep those in mind.)

I’d love to hear more about Bri’s friends, I’ll write to him about it. I’m sure if Bri has found someone he considers a friend, then they are worthy of the title. Be careful of jumping to conclusions. Aren’t you always complaining about Sev and Bri doing the same thing?

Try to relax and have fun Lily. While also keeping up on your coursework, of course.  I can’t wait to hear about everything you learned when I see over Winter Holiday. I will be counting down the days.

Loving you always,

Mum

P.S. Don’t worry about your sister. Its hard, having your younger sibling be so special. She just needs time. It’ll be different when you’re older, you’ll see.

***

Third of September 1971

My dear Bri,

You are correct in that you did not promise me a letter as your sister did, but it warms my heart to receive one from you anyway.

I am always happy to hear that you are alive, but would it hurt to grant your dear old mum more details?

Your sister said that your making friends, is this true? They better not be the bad sort Bri. Remember that you are a good boy, who deserves good friends. I wish I was there to make sure you are okay. I know you like to pretend everything’s fine but remember that you have your sister with you, and she can help you. You just have to let her.

You have to tell her that something is wrong.

Your sister also said that you were sorted in Gryffindor with her and that Gryffindors are supposed to be courageous and bold. I’m not surprised that’s where you were sorted if that’s the truly case. I won’t pretend to understand exactly how it works, but I remember being young and in school. Those things were significant, but don’t let yourself get wrapped up in them.

Loving you always,

Mum

***

12th of September 1971

Dear Mum,

I’m sorry it took so long for me to respond. I’ve been rather busy between classes and making new friends. Marlene and Mary are my dormmates, and I’m so excited to be friends with them. Mary comes from a mug non-magical family, just like me. We stayed up late last night talking about the Beatles after we found out that most of classmates had never heard of them (can you believed that?). Marlene comes from a magical family, but she’s very nice to us and has been teaching us everything we need to know about the magical world. But sometimes, I wonder if Marlene even really likes me, or if she just hangs around me because of Mary.

Bri is all out of sorts lately. Its nearly impossible to catch a moment with him, its like he’s avoiding me. He kicked up a fuss about me hanging out with Sev, but like you said, I’m not going to let other people dictate who I can and can’t talk to.

Hogwarts is wonderful, and I’m so happy I came. But I miss home Mum, how is Petunia? How is Pa? I can’t wait to visit for Winter Holiday and just have everything be normal for a while.

Wishing I was with you,

Lily J. Evans

***

Thirteenth September 1971

Dearest Lilypad,

Don’t you worry about writing to me. You’ve seen enough of me, and you’ll see enough of me in the future. Focus on school, and friends.

At your age, girls are tricky. Just remember to breathe and try your best to take the high road in any situation. You’re my brave, beautiful girl, who wouldn’t want to be your friend? I’m so happy you’ve found someone you can relate to. I would love to meet Mary sometime, if you ever feel comfortable inviting her over. Especially since she’s like you, I’d love to speak with her parents.

I’m sorry you’re having such trouble with Bri, love. You know that he can get in his moods, and I’m sure that he’s struggling without boxing.

I can’t wait to see you either love, but don’t rush the time. Enjoy every moment, for its one of a kind.

Loving you always,

Mum

***

Thirteenth of September 1971

My dear Bri,

You never responded to my last letter, and I’ll admit I am rather concerned for you given what your sister just wrote to me.

Tell me what’s the matter love. Even if I can’t make anything better, it often helps to get it all out. I’m here for you, even if we can’t see each other. You are in my heart.

Loving you always,

Mum

***

20th of September 1971

Dear Mum,

I miss home. I know that I should love Hogwarts, and I should be happy I get to be with Briar, and that I’m special. But everything is so different. Mary, at least, gets it. But Marlene isn’t the same when she’s Mary’s not around.

25th of September 1971

Dear Mum,

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a twin, then I wouldn’t be so upset that Briar is ignoring me

1st of October 1971

Dear Mum,

I know you told me not to worry about sending you letters quickly, but I’m still sorry this comes so late. Hogwarts is still wonderful, and I’m so grateful to be a witch. To make such magical things happen with just a flick of a wand, its like a dream.

Briar is still avoiding me, but its okay. I have Mary, and Marlene, and Sev to keep my company. Not all at the same time of course. I rarely see Mary just by herself. Marlene seems to be magically affixed to her side. I never see Marlene by herself. In fact, I think she hates me  goes out of her way to avoid me feels awkward around me for some reason.

Sev, well Sev doesn’t want to be seen hanging out with more Gryffindors. It makes the bullying from his dorm-mates worse. So nowadays we mostly just see each other in class and in dark corners where no will see us interrupt us.

I think I forgot to ask in my last letter, though I meant to. How are things back home? How is Pa? and Petunia? And you?

Missing you dearly,

Lily J. Evans.

***

First of October 1971

My Dear Bri,

You still haven’t responded to my letter, and I grow more concerned by the day. Forget what I said about details. I just want to know you’re okay.

Loving you always,

Mum

***

10.10.1971

Mum,

I’m alive. Lily is rather concerned about you however and won’t stop pestering me about how you haven’t responded to her letter.

Is it because you sent the letter to me and therefore the owl left and you’re not sure how to send a letter to us without it?

I’m looking into it for you, so we don’t end up in this situation again.

You asked about friends, I believe. I’m not sure I really have any, but my dorm-mates and I are getting along rather well. One of them, Potter, he’s taken to calling me his friend, but I’m not sure it will last.

All three boys are rather clever though.

How is the muggle world? I trust you haven’t let it burn down while we’ve been away.

Your son,

B. T. Evans

P.S. don’t forget to attach Lily’s letter to the owl before you send it away this time.

***

Eleventh of October 1971

Dearest Lilypad,

Now it is my turn for apologies on my delayed letter. The owl flew away, and I had no idea how to get it back until you brother finally wrote back to me. Please do forgive me.

It sounds like, even if there are difficulties, you have friends at that school of yours.

Things here are okay. Petunia has been attending her own schooling as usual, she is obsessed with a boy named Timothy Cline. I’m afraid I’ve never met the boy, but from the way your sister speaks of him, he may be the Adonis himself.

She doesn’t say it, but I know she misses you so.

I’m so happy to hear that you are still enjoying school.

Loving you always,

Mum

***

Eleventh of October 1971

My Dear Bri,

It sounds like this Potter fellow is a friend of yours. Does he have a first name? Is he of a good sort? What are about the other boys? What are their names?

I don’t want you getting mixed up in anything.

I’m not certain what ‘muggle’ means, but I believe your talking about the normal world, correct? Assuming so, no, I have not let it burn down. Though I doubt it would be in my power to stop it if it decided to.

Please reach out to your sister Bri, she tells me you have been avoiding her. I know you have new friends, but she’s your sister, your twin, you need to keep her close. I wish you would confide in her, or in anyone.

You have still not told me if you are okay. I thought I taught you to be a better correspondent than this.

Loving you always,

Mum

***

20th of September 1971

Dear Mum,

I know Timothy Cline. Briar beat him up a few years ago. He was always hanging around Gregory Tomson, you remember? The boy Briar sent to the Hospital. I don’t think Cline if of a good sort Mum, make sure Tuney stays away from him.

Classes are getting more intense, so I fear I won’t be able to write as much. But I love you, and I will respond when I can.

Missing you every day,

Lily J. Evans

***

10.29.71

Mum,

Potter’s first name is James, and you don’t have to worry about him. His parents are powerful wizards in the government, and very pro-muggle relations (muggle is the wizard word for non-magical people). He’s honestly so pure and full of light, he’s the last person you’ll ever have to worry about being ‘of the bad sort’ (though I’m not certain I believe in such a thing).

If I would have to label anyone as ‘of the bad sort’ it would be Severus Snape

There’s also Remus Lupin. Lupin is very studious and reads a lot. Lily actually likes him. She doesn’t like Potter for some reason. She says he gets on her nerves. But I think she kind of likes I try to keep them apart as much as possible.

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. School is more challenging than I expected. That’s why I’ve been avoiding Lily so much, I'm just trying to focus. Plus, I don’t really think she’s all that interested in talking to me anyway. I feel like its best to just give her space, rather than trying to fight with her. She’s always mad at me for something.

Honestly, half the time I feel like she’s the one avoiding me.

Thank you for not letting the world burn down.

Your son,

B. T. Evans.

P.S. it seems the most obvious solution to our owl problem is for us to get two owls. One that will stay with you, and one with me. It won’t be too much. Owls are pretty cheap, relatively.

***

Thirtieth of September 1971

My Dear Bri,

I’m so happy you responded so quickly and with substance. I appreciate it Bri, it sets my heart at ease to know what’s going on with you.

These friends sound good, stay close to them if so. I have to ask, wasn’t there three of them? You only listed two.

I’m sorry to hear your having trouble talking with Lily. I’m sure it’s just a phase you two are going through. You can’t be super close forever. Being a twin can be difficult. She’s just finding her identity outside of you right now. Be patient and have faith Bri, she’ll come back to you when she’s ready. God bound you two together for life, there’s no breaking that. In the meantime, maybe you should focus on yourself. Don’t worry about Lily for now, okay? I won’t bring it up again.

 I will try to trust that you will tell me if something is really wrong. I miss you and can’t wait for Winter Holidays so I can give you a big hug.

Happy Halloween love.

Loving you always,

Mum

P.S. I will not be buying any owls. When you are old enough to make money, you can buy your own owl, and me one too if you’d like. What you do with your future money is up to you.

***

Thirtieth of September 1971

Dearest Lilypad,

I will await your next letter patiently; I trust you to take care of yourself. You always have your brother there if you need him.

I wish you luck on all your pre-holiday exams. You’re brilliant, so I have no doubt you will ace them.

Please let me know if you need anything at all. I love you too. Attached are some Cookies, I trust that you will share them with your brother. But if you keep them all to yourself, I won’t tell.

Happy Halloween, love.

Loving you always,

Mum

Chapter Text

When Sirius went home for Winter Holiday his first year of Hogwarts, he knew he was walking into a deathtrap. Regulus knew it too, he kept sending Sirius small, panicked looks, like he wanted Sirius to hide in his room all holiday.

But that wasn’t who he was. So, he sat down for dinner, and ended up getting slapped. All because his dear cousin Cissy had reported to his mother that he’d become friends with Briar Evans.

A mudblood.

But that wasn’t all. She’d also reported that Evans was dangerous, a threat to their cause. Sirius was absolutely forbidden from associating with the boy.

He pointed out that he couldn’t really avoid Briar when they slept in the same dorm, and it had all devolved from there. He wasn’t even sure what he’d said or why he’d said it. But eventually his father was slapping him, Regulus was being pushed out of the room, and his mother was telling him to get up and kneel against the wall.

“You are a shame to your family Sirius Orion Black,” his mother hissed as she set the tip of her wand carefully at the base of his neck. “Associating with mudbloods, half-breeds, and bloodtraitors.”

He sat up a little straighter, as the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. For a moment he was sure this was the end, that his mother was finally just going to do away with him once and for all. She was just waiting for a reason, and him being sorted into Gryffindor was that reason.

He was already crying when she whispered the spell. There was smile in her voice as his shirt ripped open along with the skin of his back. Blood gushed from the wounds, splattering to the floor. He collapsed forward, taking deep breathes against the wall.

The pain was horrible, but his parents had placed him under the cruciatus curse on more than one occasion, and after that, nothing hurt as bad.  

Still his head swam as his blood continued to trickle down his back.

“An old pureblood curse for rowdy children,” his father said approvingly. “Very clever Walburga.”

“Thank you, Orion,” his mother preened at the slightest praise. Sirius didn’t have to look to see her self-satisfied smile that she always had when his father paid her any mind.

“The wound won’t close unless a specific countercurse is used on it,” his father informed him. “So don’t bother wasting your time trying to heal it.”

“The countercurse is somewhere in the library,” his mother mocked. “If you can find it.”

He wouldn’t bother looking. She’d likely told Kreacher to hide it, and he wasn’t sure if he could even stand, let alone look for some book. He knew his parents, and despite what he may had thought a moment ago, he knew they weren’t ready to let him die. Regulus having a few months of lessons with their mother to become heir of The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black was nothing compared to the years that Orion had been grooming him to take over. He wasn’t going to throw that away easily. His father wasn’t one to waste an investment.

He also knew they valued their reputation too much to let him get on the Hogwarts Expression with open curse wounds.

He would just have to deal with it until then.

“Let these wounds be a reminder to you Sirius,” his father said. “You can’t rid yourself so easily of your family.”

Despite Sirius’s insistence that he was fine, especially as he was tossed the occasionally blood replenishing potion, Regulus wouldn’t let his curse go. He searched high and low in the library until he came running to Sirius with the countercurse.

Sirius sent him away with it. He knew that his parents had no desire for him to use the countercurse. This was meant to be a long-term punishment, something to show him they were in control. They’d only told him told him about the book to test him, see if he was willing to sacrifice enough.

Or if it was time for more punishment.

But Regulus still believed there was some good in their family, and the last thing Sirius wanted was to ruin that for him. Regulus was his mother’s favorite. She didn’t try to hide it. He didn’t understand the real ways their parents could be cruel. They always sent him from the room. When the spoke to Sirius it as all stern gazes and orders. When they spoke to Regulus, it was all smiles and well wishes.

Sirius couldn’t be the one to ruin that for him.

Then Regulus had healed him. In the middle of the night while he was sleeping. With his own wand. Part of him was proud and touched, another part slightly violated, but mostly he was just terrified of what his parents would do.

He went down for breakfast extra early the next day, hoping to avoid his fate just a little longer. At the first sight of him not bleeding, Kreacher went to tell his Mistress. Sirius didn’t even bother trying to run as he heard her house shoes on the stairs.

She was still in her bedrobe as she inspected him.

Then she cast the curse and everything was pain. His body thrashed around desperate for relief. As she released him for a moment, he prayed to what gods might be up there, that he hadn’t woken up Regulus to screams. Not after he'd worked so hard to heal him.

He just wanted his brother to stay a little good. Was that too much to ask for?

He felt tears rolling down his nose as he laid there. It took a minute to move after the curse. He knew she wasn’t done. She was waiting for him to recover some before continuing.

‘It won’t do for you to turn out too crazy,’ she'd said the first time, pulling his head up by his hair.  

He let out a breath, his body starting to relax. Then it was back, and he was thrashing around screaming once again.

After a few more times she tsked and knelt by his head. “You need to learn how to withstand this pain Sirius. What are you going to do when you’re an agent of the Dark Lord? He will not stand for weak servants.”

The last thing Sirius ever wanted was to have anything to do with the Dark Lord. Especially not after Hogwarts, after being sorted into Gryffindor. After James, who cared so much. After Lupin, who suffered greatly, but still managed to have a drive for school and make everyone around him smile. And Evans, a mudblood with a mudblood twin, who had power like Sirius had never seen. Who used a wand like he’d been trained first in wandless magic. Who barely slept, skipped meals, and always seemed like he was one wrong move from breaking down. If the Dark Lord had his way, he would take away all of James’s light, exploit Lupin for the beast he tried so hard to hide, and kill Evans despite any gifts he had.

But Sirius couldn’t say any of this to his mother, so instead he just sobbed. She ran her hand through hair, wiping it away from his sweating forehead in some mockery of comfort.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said, and then she whispered a plan to him. A ridiculous plan she had cooked up that involved Sirius getting Briar and Lily Evans expelled. Something, that if done right, she hoped would domino into a movement to rid Hogwarts of mudbloods completely. A plan he knew he was destined to fail at. All his punishment depended on was how hard he tried. 

He needed to prove his allegiance to the family. There could be no doubts.

Chapter Text

Rose didn’t mind working, nor did she mind when she was a housewife. In reality, they weren’t all that different at all. Working at the inn was like having a dozen kids, all who didn’t know how to clean up for themselves, who she couldn’t smack upside the head when they talked back (not to say she never did anyways). It was nice to get out of the house, to see the old innkeeper again. And all the old regulars—or at least the ones that were still alive.

Rose didn’t mind when she got her old job back at the inn, but Eric sure did.

“I’m so sorry Rose,” he’d cried more than once, too deep in his bitters to hold himself up let alone keep back the tears. “I was supposed to have saved you from that place.”

“No love,” she’d shush him, pulling him to her chest and petting his head. “You did save me. Your love saved me from disappearing after Mum died. It was never about the inn.”

But nothing seemed to console him. He’d started drinking too much again, and spent most days with his eyes locked blankly at the tele.

Part of her wanted to hate him for it. After all those years she spent tending the children and making the house pristine for him to come home to after a long day at work, he couldn’t even lift a finger to keep up on the housework. At first, she tried to keep up on it herself, but eventually she couldn’t stand it. She left the messes out of pettiness. Her silent rebellion. The last thing she was going to do was feed into his expectation that she still kept the house just because she was a woman.

It had never been like that between them.

Or at least, she hadn’t thought it was.

As the months passed, she held her tongue. She didn’t say anything when he was drunk every night or came weeping to her more than once a week about how “worthless” he was. It was hard. The factory was the only job he ever had outside of the army, and he’d been sacked with no care to his years of loyal commitment.  He wasn’t worthless. She would never think that of the kind, broken man she had married.

Only he wasn’t meant to be broken anymore. That was the deal. Before they had children, they had to get their act together. They married later than most of their peers and had built up bad habits that they both knew too well had no business around children. Rose had stopped smoking, stopped taking stupid risks, and quit her job at the inn to learn how to garden and vacuum all day.  Eric had stopped drinking every day, and he had learned to put the past behind him. She stopped finding him in the closet hiding from enemy soldiers, and there were no more sudden outbursts as he snapped for seemingly no reason whatsoever.

They had put each other back together. Their family had put them back together.

“We’re partners,” he’d promised her. “Equals, walking side by side.”

Every cigarette she smoked was a reminded of broken promises. Every time Eric got up to get himself another drink, his every footstep screamed liar! But still she kept silent.

She pretended not to have a jolt of joy when she realized that Briar and Eric were fighting over his treatment of her. It wasn’t right for him to do that for her. He shouldn’t have to. But she couldn’t help but be proud of him for defending his mother.

He would make someone very happy one day.

Eric was getting angry again. And the drunker he was, the harder time he had distinguishing Briar from his late brother, Teddy. Thankfully, by that time Briar was always in bed, and Rose could talk him down before he put his brother’s legacy on his son once again.

She worried for her husband, and worried for her children. Petunia was dating a boy Briar had apparently beaten up a few times prior. She and Lily didn’t dare tell Briar, but she worried about what that boy may be teaching her daughter.

Though her eldest had known about her boyfriend’s connection to her brother and told Rose quite clearly that she didn’t care.

So, Rose let it go. She couldn’t fight Petunia’s stubbornness. Petunia was likely only dating the boy in an attempt to get a rise out of her brother, and she would only dig her feet in harder if Rose were to ban her from seeing him.

Plus, she’d seen the two of them interact, and she didn’t think there was much of spark, given how Petunia refused to let him even hold her hand.

Petunia spent most of her summer with him, and with her friends from school. Rose had tried to convince her to spend more time around the house, but it was hopeless.

“I don’t want them to infect me with their freakishness,” Petunia had curled her lip at the suggestion.

“Petunia Marie Evans,” Rose had snapped. “They are your siblings! You will treat them with love and re—”

But Petunia was already gone. She avoided the house like their family had the plague. Rose tried not to let it hurt. Just like she tried not to see how Briar was deteriorating the longer he was at home, after he had looked so well when he’d first arrived. She was too much of coward to open her mouth and ask him what was wrong.

Because she knew he wouldn’t tell her. Just like Petunia wouldn’t listen.

So instead, Rose smiled when the twins took turns making dinner. Eating every bite, no matter how bad it was. She showered them with joyful kisses when they spent the night fixing the garden. It didn’t look like it had before, but it she told them it was more beautiful than it had ever been. She didn’t tell them that she’d heard them arguing when she’d tried to sneak out to smoke the night prior, and how she had to stop herself from halting their progress. She didn’t admit that she had been staring at the flowers while she smoked every night. That she’d come to love the briar roses weaving their way through her award winning lilies and petunias. She didn’t tell them that, in the dark, it was almost as if those delicate stems had grown with thorns.

Rose focused on what she could control. She threw herself into her job at the inn. It was a welcome distraction from her worries. From her children who were growing up too fast, and her messy house, and her husband who acted like he was on his own again. She liked working. It was once again better than being home.

Chapter Text

Petunia was alone the night of her mother’s funeral. Which might have surprised her a little over a week ago. Back when her mother was still there to hug Petunia. Even as Petunia yelled and lashed out and attacked everyone around her. Even when she refused it. Her mother would still try to reach out, to pet her hair and whisper.

“I’m so sorry you’re hurting. Please tell me what I can do to help.”

Now, after the last year or more of Rose working, every time Petunia tried to imagine her, it was dark. She imagined her in the kitchen, and it was night out. Her leaning over the couch tucking Eric into a blanket with only the TV to illuminate her face. When she imagined her mother’s scent, it had an underlying musk of nicotine.

It was so different then what it once was. Hadn’t Petunia once imagined her mum with blonde hair illuminated by the sun as she worked in the garden? Hadn’t she once only smelled of roses and something distinctly mum?

How long had it been since her mother started smoking? Why hadn’t Petunia realized? She must’ve been just too absorbed in herself to notice. If she had known earlier, would she had been able to stop it? To convince her mum to stop and save herself?

She curled further into herself. Tucked away in the corner that had once housed Lily’s bed. It was gaping evidence of the hole that had been poked in her chest when her parents both sat in front of her and told her that her mum was having an operation.

It was a small hole then. Like a pen stabbed through paper. Her life felt a little crumpled around the news.

“It will all be okay,” her mum whispered against her hair after moving to sit next to her on the couch. “They said the cancer hasn’t spread far, but they want to act quickly. This is good. They caught it early.”

Petunia pretended to believe her. She overcorrected and tried to uncrumple her life with vigor. She wouldn’t speak of it again, doing her very best not to think of it. She especially refused to think of her siblings, away at boarding school and blissfully unaware of the hardships—as always. But it was hard when the thought of their happy little magic lives shone so brightly while Petunia had to suffer here with the normal people.

Then Rose went into the operation only a few days later and Petunia went to school like it was any other day. Things blurred past her. She came home and her father didn’t say a word. He grabbed his coat and led her to the car. She didn’t dare open her mouth. Even if she wanted to, she could move.

What did this mean?

The hole started to simmer around the edges. Slowly burning bigger.

Eric’s hands were white with how tightly he held the steering wheel.

There were doors. The smell of hospital. Once they got to Rose’s room, the doctors came to see her and her pa.

“Leave us be,” Eric ordered them. He had a tight hand on Petunia’s shoulder from behind.

Petunia’s eyes were locked into the curtain pulled to block her mother’s bed from view.

“We know this is a very tough you and your family,” the doctors tried. “But since you cut the call so short we simply wanted to make sure you knew that the complications were completely unforeseen. If we had known the cancer had spread so far—”

“And whose job was it to know?” Eric rounded on the doctors, dropping his hand from Petunia’s shoulder, his voice dangerously deep.

Her father’s rage started to rise over the panicked and frustrated voices of the doctors, but it was all just background noise to Petunia.

Her feet led her into the room. The doctors’ words echoing in her mind.

She pulled back the curtain.

Petunia woke with a gasp. Still curled in the empty corner of the room. Early morning light was streaming in, and the sounds of birds felt surreal. Like in scene playing on a movie screen. It was a struggled to get her stiff joints to unfurl. Her eyes felt swollen like Briar with a broken nose, and her head was pounding to match.

Water. Was her first coherent thought.

My mum is dead. Was the second.

There was that overwhelming feeling in her chest again. It was a painful, burning, open wound. Somehow tears rose back up to her dry eyes. She could hear the twins making breakfast in the kitchen.

But she was alone.

She entertained, just for a moment, going down to be with them. But she couldn’t even imagine a world where it would go well. Inevitably one of them would say something Petunia didn’t understand. Then Lily would try and explain it and Petunia would grow frustrated and. . .

And they always made her feel so stupid.

Yesterday, finding them on the steps smoking had been the last thing to transform her heart into this gaping hole it had turned into.

How dare they?

Skipping out on the wake was one thing. But to go off without her and disrespect their mothers memory in such a way. While their father was making a fool of himself and Petunia could only watch helplessly and the twins never showed. Part of her had worried they’d been hurt. That part grew as she looked for them. The very last of her flaming away in her chest.

All the while they’d been smoking cigarettes.

Any normal person would be like Petunia and never want to see those cancer sticks again.

But the twins would never be normal.

They would always be freaks. Off by themselves. Leaving Petunia to be normal alone with their drunk of a father and their dead mum.

Even thinking about it hurt so much she had to push it away.

They were here only a few more days. Then they would go back to their freakish school until next month. Petunia would pick up the pieces without them.

She didn’t need them. She never had.

She set about reorganizing her room. Filling the hole with all her normal things until she could pretend it wasn’t even there.

Chapter Text

1955

Eileen fancied herself a rebel. Sure, maybe she was too old to be labeled as such. But in her younger days at Hogwarts, she’d never allowed herself to explore. She kept things close to her chest, didn’t take any risks. Quidditch was too much, so instead she played Gobstones. Played it well enough that a picture of her made it into the Daily Prophet. In the generations to come, that was all that people would have to remember her. At one-point, years after she graduated, she became painfully aware of that fact.

At twenty-five, already a successful Potions Master, she became restless. Her days were monotonous. The same people she’d hung around since she was eleven were still her only contacts. She didn’t even enjoy hanging out with them, or anyone really. Every second she could, she spent alone. Time slipped away as she imaged a different life.

It was a half-life. She was like a ghost of who she hoped to be.

One day, she snapped. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she simply could not keep living as she had. She had to something. So, she set out to do just that. It was in searching that she happened upon a muggle club. It was dark and reminded her a bit of Knockturn alley. But the music playing from it spoke to her like a veela’s call.

Muggles had always been off limits. If her parents found out. . .

Well, it would certainly be something new. Something different.

Before she knew it, she was already crossing the dark street, ready to finally do something impulsive.

***

1959

Tobias was fun. He swept Eileen away that very night she’d first stepped foot into a muggle pub. He called her cute, defended her when people called her strange, and kept her right by his side. With him there, she didn’t need to worry about anyone else. She’d never been around someone like him before. He was so loud, and never afraid to share his opinion. Sure, he drank a little too much. And maybe he took a little too long to commit. But he kissed her like he would never get enough. When he gave her all of his attention, and kept her so close, it made her feel like she never had before. Like she was special.

She thought she’d finally found what she needed.

It was after he proposed that she first showed him magic. At first, he was frightened. Then he was quiet.

“You’ve hide this from me the whole time?” he asked, barely loud enough to hear.

She never forgot the betrayal on his face that night. It seemed inevitable that he would leave her. But he didn’t. After that was certain, she announced the happy news to her parents and was immediately disowned. All she could feel was numb, as it happened. She should’ve expected it, prepared herself. But for some, silly reason she thought that her parents might prove that they loved her—their only child—enough to support her.

How stupid she was.

“You’ll regret this one day,” her mother said. Her eyes cold and cruel as she stood in the doorway of what was once Eileen’s home. “Muggles are filthy animals and soon you’ll see that. When you do, don’t bother crawling back. You choose this for yourself, and you’ll have to live with it.”

The wedding was humble without her parents to help, but Eileen didn’t mind. She didn’t invite anyone from Hogwarts. They’d all stopped reaching out once she’d started seeing Tobais. Plus, she didn’t want Tobais to think her any stranger than he already did. Tobais got too drunk at their reception, and when it was time to go home, he got quiet again. It set Eileen on edge. He’d never been quiet before, even when he was angriest. She helped him through the doorway, and into bed. He pulled her with him, and she laughed as she struggled, still in her dress.

As the months passed, Tobais was home less and less. She tried to accompany him to the pub, but he’d snap at her.

“A woman’s place in the home.”

So that’s where she stayed. Alone.

It was around four months into their marriage when she found out she was pregnant. Tobais didn’t seem overjoyed, as she expected him to be. He was quiet again and gave her a long look.

“It’s not going to be a freak like you, is it?”

***

1961

Eileen never talked about it—not that she had anyone to talk to—but Tobais had always hit her. Before their marriage, it wasn’t frequent. He would always come crawling back to her, begging her forgiveness, and she would grant it. It wasn’t hard. People had been violent with her all her life. Her parents had used spells and curses to discipline her, the same with her peers, and she’d witnessed the same things between her parents on the occasion that they fought in front of her.

It was after marriage to Tobais that something turned. Eileen frequently found herself obsessing over what it might have caused it. Was it her magic? That felt like a strong possibility. Tobais got very angry if he ever saw it, especially after Severus was born. She hid it away, pretended not to use it when he was around.

That didn’t cure it. So, she realized that maybe it was her. Maybe she needed to be smaller, more grateful.

But nothing worked. He only got meaner, and his smiles became less and less frequent. Her mother’s voice began to ring out in her mind.

“Muggles are filthy animals and soon you’ll see that. When you do, don’t bother crawling back. You choose this for yourself, and you’ll have to live with it.”

She did choose this life for herself. Every day she was reminded of that. As powerful as she was, she chose to stay. If she were braver, she would just take Severus and go. Many nights she laid awake dreaming of it. After all, she had magic, something Tobais could never have.

Still, she loved Tobais. She could see the way he loved her, even in the darkest of times. And if she did leave, where would she go?

Every time she attempted to go out into the muggle world, it ended horribly. Muggles thought she was strange, and she had no idea how to gain their favor. If Tobais caught her . . . well it simply wasn’t worth it. And the wizarding world had already spoken their peace on her. Not a single letter since she’d married, not an owl in sight.

So, she stayed. She stayed and hoped that eventually she would find the thing that could make it all better.

***

1973

When Eileen looked back on her life, she sneered at how stupid and foolish she was. Her life had been perfect, before she’d ventured over to the muggles. If she had only just known how to find happiness where she was. She’d had her place and abandoned it to live with the rats. Now, she suffered the consequences just as she should. Shunned from the wizarding world she didn’t dare try and return. Even the brief trips she took Severus on to Diagon Alley made her feel on edge.

She didn’t deserve to be there.

She deserved what she had.

She reminded herself of that every day, even when Tobais didn’t bother to. Eileen had fallen into a trap, laid out just for her. It took her a long time to see it, unused to the ways that muggles lured you in. Her parents had tried to warn her. But she’d been so sure of herself. Some childish urge to rebel had possessed her and landed her in the arms of a filthy muggle that she still could not escape from.

How idiotic.

How stupid she’d been.

She understood now that her mother had been right. Muggles were animals. She hated herself for loving one, even to this day. She made sure that Severus knew, no matter the cost, that his magic was his greatest asset. Muggles. . . well muggles were weak and loving them made you weak.

She was weak.

Disgusting.

The muggles had tainted her when she had once been pure. Tainted her child. A crime she could never undo. She could never get back for Severus what he deserved. But through this Briar, his blood so tainted that she could barely stand him as the years passed, she may just make a better life for Severus.

She would not fail again. Weak as she was, she refused to let Briar be so. Her tool would not be her downfall. Through him, she would finally succeed. No matter what it took.

Chapter Text

25^th of November 1973

Briar,

I hope you know that I would never write to you except out of pure desperation. The lengths I had to go through to even get this letter to you were ASTRONOMICAL. I hope to never have to repeat this experience again, but I had to reach you. You are my last hope.

Somehow.

How pitiful is that?

I need you to remember your responsibilities to this family. With mum gone, pa  our father still isn’t working and people are coming to knock on the door asking for money. I made the great sacrifice of getting a part time job at the inn. Which they gave to me out of charity for how pitiful our family has become.

You need to come home and start working. It’s unbecoming for a woman to work and I refuse to do so any longer. Especially when it isn’t even enough.

Time to stop being a freak Briar.

 Your elder sister,

Petunia Evans.

***

Petunia,

I’m so curious as to how you got your hands on an owl (I know how much you hate them) and this is the second time too. You will have to tell me how you manage it.

I had no idea things had gotten so bad at home. Thank you, for getting job at the inn. I will be happy to bring in money when I able to over holiday. Leaving Hogwarts is out of the question.

Don’t let me hear you sent Lily a letter like this too. This is the last thing she needs right now.

 B. T. Evans

***

30^th of November 1973

Briar,

It is hard to believe we were raised by the same people, in the same house, at the same time. I mean, you don’t even date your letters. Not to mention that your handwriting is atrocious. I refuse to entertain you by telling you of my struggles so that you can laugh at me like you always do.

Holiday may be too far away. We needed the money six months ago at this point. I want you to know that if we lose the house and become shoeless, starving, orphans, I am holding you responsible.

Your eldest sister,

Petunia Evans

***

7^th of January 1974

My eldest sister Petunia,

I took extra care in writing this letter to you, since my correspondence etiquette seems to be such an issue for you. After all, it was practically the only thing you said all holiday other than the fact it was Christmas and a critique of my urgency when it came to the money we needed.

I do hope what I supplied is enough.

Seriously though, Petunia.  I gave you enough until summer, right? I better not hear of you spending it on random shit. I went through a lot to get us that.

Your only brother,

B. T. Evans

***

11^th of January 1974

Briar,

Please don’t tell me whatever freakish things you did to acquire the money. I don’t want to know. But it is enough.

You know when I wrote to you, I expected you to drop out of school and get a job. Like so many of the noble boys in my class did. But not only are you still going to that ridiculously expensive, freakish school. You also never got a job and gave me the money with your face so bruised I barley recognized you except for your hair.

You need a haircut. But at least you haven’t grown it out as long as that Snape boy who Lily hangs around.

Please don’t write to me again. I hate the owl you wasted money on last summer. I will contact you again if you’re needed.

Your eldest sister,

Petunia Evans

***

Petunia,

My owl is amazing, please don’t insult her just because she bites you. . . maybe if you were nicer to her. . .

B. T. Evans

***

20^th of January 1972

My dear younger brother Briar,

It saddens me to know that you have no other correspondents, and your poor owl is forced to pester me to write back to you.

I want you to know that being deliberately annoying is a very childish thing to do.

You will drive me into insanity with this damned bird. Do not send it back.

Your eldest sister,

Petunia Evans

***

Petunia,

I don’t know why you hate Dia so very much. She is a very good owl for being so cheap and so very small. I love her dearly. I think she just likes you.

B. T. Evans

***

23/1/74

Briar,

I want you to know that I hate you. I do not want the owl near me anymore. Stop writing.

Petunia

***

Petunia,

You really have always had a way with words.

B. T. Evans.

***

25/1/74

Briar,

I wish our parents had stopped at one child.

Or Lily had absorbed you in the womb.

Petunia

***

Petunia,

As a birthday present to myself, I’ll stop sending you the owl to torment you so with her cute, innocence.

I’ve decided my life could do with less hate mail.

B. T. Evans.

Chapter Text

#1 The owlery (Hogwarts, late 1971)

James was fairly certain that Lily Evans hated him. She was always snapping at him and glaring at him with her beautiful green eyes, even when he was trying his best to make her laugh. Many times, he considered talking to Bri about it. But it was still hard to try and talk to him about anything. The boy seemed to be allergic to the idea that they were friends. James had also considered talking to Sirius about it. But James honestly tried to avoid the subject of muggleborns with Sirius as much as possible. He didn’t want to give the other boy a chance to disappoint him.

He panicked when he found Lily alone in the owlery. She was sitting in the far corner with her hair covering her face. He considered just turning around to go back down the long stairs and come back later. But it was too late. She’d noticed him and was already packing to leave.

“No,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “You can stay, I’ll just send my letter another time.”

She gave him a hard look, and in the dim light of the owlery it was hard to make out, but her eyes were rimmed with red, and her cheeks were flushed. His chest clenched with sympathy. He’d never admit it, but he’d cried himself to sleep more than once since he’d left home.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lily snaped. “It’s the owlery. I don’t even have an owl. I was just sending a letter and its already done.”

Then she pushed past him and in a flash of red hair she was gone.

He stood there for a moment and tried to process what he had said wrong. Only, he was fairly certain he hadn’t even had a chance to say much of anything.

Her face stuck with him for the rest of the night. That stubborn set to her jaw even as she was at her most vulnerable. The way her eyes glowed as if she was hoping for a challenge. He laid in bed with the image was still haunting him, and he couldn’t understand why. Suddenly all he wanted was to make her smile.

Maybe he could get her an owl?

That seemed like a little much. If he did that then she might think he liked her.  

That gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Did he like her?

***

#2 Gryffindor common room (Hogwarts, early 1972)

James’s head hurt, and he felt guilty for even thinking it. It must’ve been nothing in comparison to how Sirius felt. Or even Briar.

The last few hours had been a blur. James had been the first to find Sirius and Briar. He could still feel the sharp feeling of panic in his chest as he realized that they were both missing. Over the school year, he’d gotten to know them both, and he wanted to give Sirius the benefit of the doubt. He knew that Sirius didn’t want to be like his family. It was only James that Sirius had actually opened up to about what his home was like. But that didn’t excuse. . .

James’s fingers were clean as he looked down at them. Not long ago they’d been covered in Sirius’s blood.

The fire in the common room seemed too peaceful for his fried mind. The crackling was the only sound and it echoed around the mostly empty room. His leg bounced as he waited on the couch for Bri to come back. Remus was sending him concerned looks from the other end of the couch that James pretended he didn’t notice. How Remus had found them with the professors, James had no idea. But he was eternally grateful. For that and the support that he’d been giving all night, even he hadn’t said much.

In the armchair to James’s left, Lily was curled up. Her emerald eyes were locked on the fire in a glare like she could blame everything all on the flames. She had been a force of nature as she’d defended Bri that night. James was partly ashamed to realize he was surprised at Lily’s actions. Things between her and Bri were tense all year and had seemed to come to head recently. But now it seemed like none of that mattered.

James’s half jumped out of his body when it was Lily’s soft voice that broke the silence.

“Thank you,” Lily whispered.

Her eyes locked on James’s and for a moment he wondered if the room was spinning around her, or if it was the world.

“Of course,” he responded in the same careful tone. Though he wasn’t entirely certain what exactly she was thanking him for.

Her eyes had already gone back to the fire when she continued, so soft he could barely hear it. “I’m glad that Bri has friends like you.”

The familiar feeling that James felt when he looked at Lily suddenly felt unbearable. He couldn’t understand it.

Was this what a crush felt like?

Was it named such because it felt like it was crushing his very soul?

***

#3 Gryffindor common room (Hogwarts, fall 1974)

James got onto the quidditch team in second year, and it may have been the proudest moment of his young life. Either that or the first game he was responsible for winning—an impressive feat for a chaser who wasn’t often the deciding factor in quidditch. But despite all of that, James had never been allowed to stay late for the after-game parties. The older members of the team insisted that James and his friends were too young to party with them.

Apparently now that he was fourth year, that didn’t apply. It probably helped that all the upperclassmen who had cared graduated last spring.

Frank Longbottom laughed and clapped James on the back as he coughed and winced at his first ever shot of fire whiskey. A few more and a few hours later, James had a pleasant, warm feeling spreading out from his stomach. He was dancing with the rest of the Gryffindors to some muggle music that Briar put on when he noticed Lily slip in.

 He gave a quick glance around the room as if he would find two Lily’s had suddenly appeared. It felt wrong that he hadn’t even noticed that she wasn’t there. It surprised him to find that Remus and Briar were missing. Sirius had a girl pressed up against a wall that James had never seen before. Which, how was the even possible? Hogwarts was not that big.

James shook his head. Each thought struggled to go into the next one. Suddenly everything felt too loud, and he was just standing in the middle of at least a dozen dancing Gryffindors. It wasn’t clear when he’d stopped dancing, but now that he’d stopped, he was too tired to keep going. Just standing there, he began to feel like everyone was staring so he found his way out of the crowd.

There was no conscious decision on his part. His feet led him to the bottom of the girl’s dormitory stairs. Lily was still there. Her back was up against the wall with her legs up and her long red waves covering her face as she stared at her knees.

“Are you alright?” James asked. Selfishly, he was hoping she’d ask back. Their relationship was a lot less. . . tense then it once had been, but that didn’t mean that they confided in each other. It was just that at that very moment James really needed someone to talk to.

His happy drunk feeling was rapidly falling into an inescapable despair he had no idea what to do with.

Lily gave him a half-hearted glare from under her hair. He was undeterred, used to her nasty looks by this point.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she snaped.

He attempted a smile and was relieved to find how easily it came. He ran a nervous hand through his already messy black hair. The feeling inside him had doubled. “That’s valid. I probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”

His smile fell as easily as it came when his words hit him. Why would he say that? He sounded pathetic. They sat together in an uncomfortable silence. James avoided her eyes, wondering if it would be better if he just went to bed. Maybe he was just tired.

“Are you alright?” Lily asked, so softly that James barely heard her.

His head whipped over to take her in again. Her head was finally all the way up as she studied him, and her eyes were rimmed with red. She’d been crying.

He wanted to know why. But she probably wouldn’t tell him. If he asked, it may break this little moment and he couldn’t handle that right now.

“I’m always just wonderful.” James found his smile again. It spread across his face as easily as it always did. He wondered if anyone ever spotted how fake it really was. It was a snap decision to try and change the subject, desperate to keep her attention. “Are you not going to join the party?”

She scoffed, a bitter look coming back across her pale face. Somehow, he’d ruined it again. Maybe he should just not open his mouth around her. The awkward silence was back. Once again, it was Lily who broke it.

“I used to think winning was a good thing.” She looked at the wall as she spoke, as if she were mostly talking to herself. “But now, I realize that when someone wins, it also means that someone loses. How is that fair? How is it that we celebrate the loss of others?”

With his drunk brain, James tried his best to make sense of her words. Who cared if the Slytherins had lost at quidditch? They’d won the cup for three years in a row. This was only one game.

Then it hit him. Snape. That was why Lily cared about Slytherin losing. Was that where she had been? Snape wasn’t even on the team, why was he so upset at his house losing?

A monster inside him threw back its head and stabbed at his stomach. What was this feeling?

Was it jealousy?

James had thought that over the years any sort of feelings that he had towards Lily had faded. She was one of his best friend’s little sister. Well, of his best friend’s twin but still. James was too good of a friend to crush on his friend’s sister. He’d gotten over it.

Only, in the dim light of the stairwell Lily’s crimson hair was true red and her eyes glowed like his mother’s emerald earrings in the candle. He realized he was staring, but she hadn’t noticed, and he wanted to stare as long as he could.

***

An alley a few blocks away from Briar’s boxing club (Cokeworth, summer 1975)

James’s heart was racing as he ran. His mother—dressed in the many layers of her sari-like robes and her heeled shoes—somehow managed to keep up close behind him. Lily’s instructions in her letter had been clear, but the muggle town still felt like a maze of brick buildings to him. It didn’t help that she hadn’t been able to specify exactly where she was.

He rounded a corner and froze as he spotted them. Even in the late-night lighting, he could spot Lily’s bright red hair down the alley. His mother pushed past him and hurried to the twins’ side. James forced his feet forward, until he could see Briar half propped up on the brick wall behind him. His curls were a mess of blood and dirt. His pale skin seemed even paler, and James wanted to blame it on the poor light or the comparison of his mother’s brown skin as she examined him. That was a lot easier than accepting that the pool of drying blood belonged to Briar.

Lily’s words in her letter ran through his mind again.

I know we’ve never been the closest, but please, for Briar. I’m not certain where he is yet, but I’m going to be looking for him around his boxing club. I have no idea if this letter will even get to you in time. I hope it isn’t as bad as they said it was.

It was obviously worse.

If not for the small movement of Briar’s chest, James would’ve assumed he was a corpse.

“You’ve done such a good job Lily,” James’s mum whispered as she gently pried Lily’s hands off and replaced them with her own so that she could check under the strange cloth that Lily had pressed to Briar’s wound. She gave Lily a reassuring smile once she saw it. “It looks like you managed to stop the bleeding. It’s in a good spot, didn’t hit anything vital. We’ll just have to get him back to the house, alright?”

Lily nodded in a daze. Her eyes were locked on nothing in the mid-distance, her hands had fallen limply to her sides.

James’s mother sent him a look, one that wanted action. James’s eyes flittered between Lily, Briar, and his mum. What was he to do?

His mother flicked her fig wood wand and then lifted Briar as if he weighed nothing. She walked past James, and this time sent a pointed look at where Lily was still frozen. This time he understood. He knelt down in front of Lily so that he was in her view, but her eyes didn’t refocus. He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey Lils?” It was the first time he’d used the nickname, and any other time would’ve likely been yelled at for it. She didn’t so much as blink in response. “We’ve got to get back to my house. Mum is going to apparate all of us, so you’ve got to hold onto her tight.”

Lily nodded. He helped her up and together they walked over to where his mum was waiting, hand in hand. Lily didn’t drop his hand even as she stumbled after the apparition, and they followed his mother into the manor from the apparition point by the garden gate. Lily didn’t even glance at Sirius, who was standing at the top of the stairs with wide eyes. They followed Briar and his mum into the downstairs lounge, where she placed him carefully on the couch.

Lily squeezed James’s hand so tightly as his mother exposed Briar’s wound again and got to work. She summoned her potions kit—which had been sitting in the kitchen—and poured what James recognized as a blood replenishing potion into Briar’s mouth. His skin started to turn pink again and finally Lily seemed to let out her breath.

In an instant she sobbed and slammed herself into James’s chest so hard that he almost fell. It was as if she didn’t even notice, as she curled herself against him and held onto his shirt in her fists. Slowly, scared of spooking her away, he let his arms come up around her. She sobbed harder, and seemed to grip him firmer, so he held her tight.

He would’ve held her forever, if she needed it. If he had his way, she would never cry like this again. But he could not control the world and it caused a pain in his chest to know that Lily would have to continue fight to have her brilliance recognized. That wasn’t even to mention the very real danger of people who were threatening people like her more every day. And that was just the wizarding world. He hadn’t even considered the muggle world being a danger to her until now.

James’s first thought was that he wanted to be the one to protect her. But he realized quickly that didn’t give Lily enough credit.

So instead, he decided that he wanted to be the one to stand by her side and help her. The one that held her when the world made her cry so hard that it seemed she was coming apart at the seams.

Was this what love was?

Chapter Text

Remus woke to the smell of tobacco. For a moment, it transported him back home. To his mother whispering a prayer as she snuck a smoke in the middle of the night and thought that Remus didn’t know. As if he couldn’t smell it on her the next morning. But he never would call her out. She needed every comfort she could get.

An innocent woman who fell in love with a wizard and ended up with a monster as a son.

It was like a muggle horror story.

Only Remus opened his eyes and remembered he wasn’t at home. Spring holiday had ended a few days prior. He was at Hogwarts. Sirius and James’s sleeping breaths were obvious to Remus’s sharp ears, so that only left one person.

Remus slipped out of his curtains and confirmed his ears with his eyes. Briar was sat on the windowsill, looking out into the night with a cigarette mostly burning away in his hand. The moon was barely a crescent hidden by clouds. Briar’s red hair looked a much deeper tone in the dark.

“Wotcher Bri,” Remus said softly, to alert the other boy of his presence.

Briar didn’t seem surprised as he turned to Remus. His face was eerily blank, as if he wasn’t awake at all. Remus couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for interrupting his friend who was lost in thought.

“Wotcher Rem,” Briar repeated softly. He turned his head back out to stare at the party cloudy night sky.

Remus stood and walked over to the window. He made to sit down next to the redhead. “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” Briar shrugged. He twisted and held out the pack of cigarettes. “Wanna a fag?”

“Why not?” Remus took one and lit it with ease on the end of his wand. The first drag hit his throat roughly, but then his shoulders began to relax as it soaked into his system.

Briar raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you smoked.”

“Don’t a lot,” Remus admitted. “But I’ve had a few.”

He mostly stole them from his mother on holiday, especially in the days leading up the full moon when the anticipation got to him the most and made it impossible to relax. The nicotine helped him to think past the wolf and distract himself with other things.

“I’m surprised you do,” Remus said carefully.

“Why?” Briar asked with bitter amusement. “Because my mum died of lung cancer?”

Remus nodded. He watched Briar carefully as he let out a frustrated breath and looked back out the window. It had been about year now since Briar’s mother had passed, and they still hadn’t really talked about it. Briar had dodged James’s attempts at comfort and leaned into Sirius’s distraction until the other boys moved on. But it had always bothered Remus a little, especially since he got to hear so much from Lily. The way Briar had taken to avoiding the subject didn’t seem entirely healthy.

“Do you miss her?” Remus managed to ask casually before another hit.

Briar was quiet for a long moment, but Remus was patient. By the time Briar responded, his cigarette was mostly burnt out.

“You know how sometimes there will be a noise, and it’ll be so constant and in the background that you don’t even notice it was there until it stopped?”

Remus nodded. He was all too familiar with the feeling, as someone with supernatural hearing.

“That’s a bit what it’s like, kinda,” Briar continued softly. “Like I keep listening for the noise, but it’s gone now. It’s never coming back. If I had known how temporary it was, I would’ve—”

Briar cut himself off and shook his head. He took the last drag from his cigarette and the tossed it out the window. Remus was about to protest before Briar flicked his maple wand and the burning bud disappeared halfway down.

Very impressive aim to hit such a small object in the dark. But it shouldn’t surprise him. When it came to Briar, Remus was constantly being reminded how powerful he really was.

“She left such a gap behind in our family that will never be filled,” Briar said, almost bitterly. “Not only with her just being her but also literally, as she’d been the only one making money before she died.”

“I didn’t realize,’” Remus said softly. That had been something that Lily had never mentioned, and the Evan’s twins had never seen particularly worse for the wear. Especially when compared to Remus and his secondhand robes and used textbooks. “Are you alright? What about your father?”

“Useless shell of a man he’s been since before she died,” Briar scoffed. “But we’re scraping by. I have some things I do on holiday that make us money, but it’s not much.”

Remus couldn’t help but notice that Briar had avoided the word job but he didn’t call him out for it. He understood all too well what it was likely to struggle for money. His father had not been able to hold down a job since Remus had been bitten, and they lived so far away from civilization that his muggle mother had no chance for employment. If he could do something to help his parents out, he would in a moment. Briar sent him a look that told Remus he knew exactly what he was thinking, and they shared an unamused smile.

“If only there was a way to make money here at Hogwarts,” Briar sighed.

Remus agreed. Then, as he took another drag off his cigarette, he had a sudden realization. “What if we sold fags? Like we could get them from the muggle world and sell them individually for mark up. Most people would never even know, and those who do are probably so desperate for a fag, they won’t care.”

Briar didn’t seem surprised, like the thought had crossed his mind before. “The problem is that no one here even knows what a fag is, except for the muggleborns and the occasional halfbood. No one would want to buy something they know nothing about.”

“That’s not a problem” Remus’s voice gained excitement as his mind was whirling. “It means we can market it to them however we’d like.”

Briar looked thoughtful as he considered it. Remus’s mind was already churning faster, planning out how it would work and what else they could sell.

“They’ll have no idea how addictive it is, so they’ll barely question it when they want more,” Briar finished. His voice starting to gain some life as well. “For the purebloods, we’d be the only supply. And we could sell it them at ridiculous prices and they’d be none the wiser.”

“Exactly,” Remus agreed. “We could nick a weed plant from the Green Houses as well. Wizards don’t really smoke it, only use if for potions ingredients, so that’d be new to everyone too.”

“Not as addictive,” Briar mused. “But it might just work. Everyone loves to be stoned, especially in stressful times like these.”

The boys sat together for a moment, imaging their scheme. It was not the most morally great plan, but in the end wouldn’t have much negative consequences unless they were caught. Which they’d gotten quite skilled at not doing after many a prank. The only concern there could be was cancer, but wizards had long since discovered the cure to that.

“How do you know about weed?” Briar asked as if seemed to occur to him.

Remus laughed a little and kept his answer intentionally vague. “There’s a muggle town a few hours walk from my house. Sometimes I’ll pop down to just to get out and see people other than my parents.”

“Oh, I see.” Briar wiggled his eyebrows at him. “So, you have a cute muggle at home you’ve been hiding from us.”

“No,” Remus denied. He could feel his cheeks warming, and hoped the dark hid it well enough. “I’ve just made a few friends here and there is all. Last summer, they introduced me to smoking weed and I’ve started keeping it around for the bad days.”

Which were most days. But Remus didn’t have much of a supply and certainly didn’t have the money to buy more than a few joints off the muggles. Before now, stealing it from the Green House hadn’t really crossed his mind.

Briar was staring at him with wide eyes, but there was a hint of joy growing in them now. “Remus, are you secretly a stoner?”

“No,” Remus tried, but it was weak to even his own ears. “I haven’t really had enough to be stoner, I don’t think.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what constituted being stoner rather than a casual smoker, but he knew he probably didn’t have enough for it.

“I don’t think,” Briar laughed. Then he grew a little more somber as he seemed to consider something. “Actually, now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever had weed.”

“I don’t think,” Remus mocked back without malice. “How are you not sure if you’ve had weed?”

Briar shrugged. “It’s complicated. But I think you’re on to something here Remus. We could be the Tabacco company of Hogwarts, getting magical children hooked on fags in their teen years. Sounds like a pot of gold to me.”

“What about the other boys?” Remus looked back at the closed curtains.

Sirius and James could sleep through a stampede, so he wasn’t worried about them waking. But he felt a bit guilty for not including them. He was also fairly positive Briar would want to. The three of them were always off with each other, while Remus stuck behind with Lily and the girls or on his own. He did his best not to let it get to him, but it was hard.

He reminded himself that he should just be grateful he had friends at all. Especially ones that accepted him despite know the awful truth of his condition.

“I don’t think they need to be involved,” Briar said softly. He didn’t look too concerned about their feelings. “They have enough money as it, don’t you think? Plus 50-50 is a hard deal to pass up.”

Remus couldn’t help the grin that formed on his face, though he tried his best to hide it. Part of him felt guilty for feeling so happy to be involved in something with Briar that the other boys weren’t. But more so, it made him feel special. Now he shared something with someone that they didn’t share with anyone else. He’d never had that before.

“50-50,” Remus repeated. He held out his hand and Briar took it easily and shook it. “It’s a deal.”

Chapter Text

Barty was never supposed to be in Slytherin. His father was a proud Ravenclaw from a family of Ravenclaws, and his mother was a quiet Hufflepuff who hoped he might follow in her footsteps.

But Barty was sorted into Slytherin.

If he was honest with himself, then he might admit he wasn’t surprised at his sorting. As the years passed, he truly realized that Slytherin was where he belonged. But that did nothing to change the way his father felt about it. His mother did her best to intervene, but there was only so much she could really do. She was as trapped as Barty was.

Perhaps, the way his father ran the house was why Barty ended up the way he did. The students in his house practically all had the same experiences as he did. Even if their parents were proud of their Slytherin children, they still didn’t hesitate to point their wand and give out punishment. In fact, most of his peers had it worse than he did.

That didn’t make it any easier to go home.

He stared out the train window at the passing country. Regulus was reading across from him, having only said a few words after Barty had dragged them out of him. He wasn’t the mood to keep irritating his best friend, so he conceded to the silence. But that meant that Barty was stuck with his own thoughts. No book could distract him from the uncertainty of what might meet him in that too big, mostly empty, house.

“I’m going to find the trolly,” Barty announced suddenly as he stood.

Regulus didn’t so much as twitch, but Barty knew he heard. The door clicked shut behind him, and he started in one direction. He wasn’t really looking for the trolly, just needed to move around before his nerves ate him alive. He was nearing the end of the train when a familiar voice called out.

“Oi, Crouch.”

Barty turned to find Evan Rosier standing a few feet away. All the compartments around them were closed.

“Rosier,” Barty greeted with a nod.

He watched the older boy warily, unsure why he might talk to him now. Rosier was in a pair of causal dark robes that weren’t quite as expensive as Regulus’s but were close. He had his auburn hair slicked back as he always did, a single curl escaping on his forehead. Surprisingly, Rosier was alone. A rare sight for the ringleader of his year.

There was something different about Rosier. He didn’t stand so tall, and he was avoiding Barty’s eyes for the most part.

“Listen, Crouch,” Rosier started, “I know we’re not like friends or anything. But if you need anything this summer, don’t be afraid to send an owl.”

Shock ran through Barty. Of all the things he expected Rosier might say, that was not one of them. He stared, dumbfounded as Rosier seemed to try and muster some of his bravo back.

“Don’t read into it,” Rosier sneered.

Then pushed past Barty, making sure to clip his shoulder.

He watched Rosier disappear into a compartment.

Why had he never noticed how cute Rosier was?

Barty most certainly read into it. In fact, he never forgot that tiny offer of compassion. The first from anyone besides his mother. Not even Regulus—who Barty considered his best friend and was more vulnerable with than he would ever be with anyone else—had ever said anything of the sort.

Chapter Text

March 27^th, 1976- 11:42 pm

Why are you friends with Potter again?

Not a fan of his birthday celebration at supper tonight? I thought it was fun.

Of course, you thought it was fun. It was the Slytherins who got hit with confetti that turned our hair rainbow. I just got it back to its normal color again.

That took what? 5 hours? Not so bad. I tweaked the charm some too, so I’m impressed.

I see. So, it was your fault.

What can I say? James is hard person to buy presents for. Gotta get him something.

Can you at least warn me, next time?

Now where’s the fun in that?

***

April 20^th, 1976- 12:01 am

What are actually in fags?

Cigarettes? Why do you ask?

Barty told me they were made from potions ingredients for months. I’m curious what they really are.

Oh, so you’re the reason that he buys so many. Me and Remus thought maybe he’d taken up chain-smoking them in your dorms.

Chain-smoking?

It’s when you smoke one cigarette after another without a break. Unfortunately, it’s fairly common in the muggle world.

I see. So, they are muggle items?

Yes, they’re made from tobacco. Remus and I buy them in bulk to sell here since you can’t get them in the Wizarding World.

Tabacco? I don’t think I’ve heard of that plant. It doesn’t grow in the Greenhouses, does it?

It does actually, though not much of it. It’s an uncommon potion ingredient. American invented potions utilize it more often since it’s native over there. Most magical folk call it Kinnikinnick. Which is funny because European muggles actually used that word to describe all the other things that were smoked with the tobacco by Indigenous tribes. It means like mixture or something of the sort.

I see, I’ve heard of that. So, it is technically made out of potions ingredients. The two of you just don’t make them yourselves. Unlike the joints?

Correct. Barty shared that joint he bought in February with you, didn’t he?

He did. He said that one was actually made from a plant in the Greenhouses. Was he lying?

No, he wasn’t. We make those with cannabis buds we nick from the Greenhouses.

Really? Cannabis? I’ve never heard of smoking it before.

It’s super common in the muggle world, it’s not used for much else anymore. Though having it and smoking it is illegal.

Illegal? Why?

Because it’s intoxicating, I guess? I don’t really understand it either. Did you enjoy smoking it for the first time? It’s certainly not for everyone, so be careful.

It wasn’t so bad. Though my head stayed fuzzy for a few days after, but I didn’t hate it. Made me feel lighter.

It’s good for that. Barty hasn’t asked for another one, but if you want, I can always sneak one to you. My treat.

Better not. If Barty found it, he’d jump to all sorts of conclusions.

Fair enough. How many of the fags that he buys go to you?

About half? I’m not certain. On the weekends we go down to the lake and smoke. Then I have some stashed away for when I need them.

How often do you need them?

Usually before I go to sleep or when I take a break from studying. I’ve been smoking more lately. They help calm the nerves.

They are good for that. Just be careful. We don’t advertise this because it’s bad for business, but fags are extremely addictive.

I see. . . hence the chain-smoking?

Exactly. They can make you sick too. Nothing a healer wouldn’t be able to solve, but still.

Sick how? I’ve noticed that I’ve been coughing more since smoking them regularly. I assumed it was just the natural consequence of smoking often.

It probably is. Just make sure to tell Madam Pomfrey if it gets worse than some occasional coughing.

You said that healers can solve the sickness. What about muggles? They have healers too, right?

They do, they’re called doctors and nurses. They can try to help, but muggle medicine still has a long way to go with such things.

But surely, they can still cure it? Or are muggles really foolish enough to die from something so avoidable?

Briar?

You’d be surprised what people will put themselves through, even while knowing it could kill them. Sometimes, a little bit of relief is worth the possibility of future suffering. At least in the moment. Good night, Regulus, I’m tired.

Good night, Bri. Thank you, for answering my questions.

***

May 14^th, 1976- 5:15 pm

Are you alright? You missed breakfast and lunch. I heard you didn’t attend any classes either.

[This message disappeared before it could be read.]

***

Later that evening- 10:30 pm

Is everything alright? I know I missed a message from you earlier. I didn’t get a moment to myself until now.

I’m fine. I was just concerned about you.

I’m fine too. Just took the day to be with Lily. It’s the anniversary of our mother’s death.

That’s what Barty said, but I wasn’t sure if that was the real reason. You’ve never taken this day off before, are you sure you’re alright?

I am. I promise.

Would you tell me, if you weren’t?

Maybe. If I thought you could help, I suppose.

Sometimes just talking can be helpful.

It can be. Anyways, we should meet up soon so I can mess with the charms on the journals some.

Why? Is something wrong with them?

No, but I want to make sure that if you really need something urgently, I can know to look sooner.

How are you going to do that?

I’m not certain yet. I’ll figure it out.

What would I need that would be that urgent?

Hopefully, we never find out.

What about you? Would the same thing apply? What if you really needed my help?

I’ll make sure it goes both ways. Just as a precaution.

***

May 22^nd, 1976- 1:01 am

But you have to listen to the Beatles Regulus, you don’t understand.

You’re right, I don’t. What could be so great about a muggle band?

They aren’t just a muggle band. They’re the muggle band. If you don’t listen to muggle music ever again, it doesn’t matter because you’ll have listened to the Beatles.

Wow, you really think highly of them.

I do. I grew up on their music. My mum was a huge fan, always turned the radio up when they came on.

Muggles have radio?

Of course, muggles have radio! Wizards stole it from us!

From them. You’re not a muggle Briar.

Whatever, you know what I mean.

***

May 29^th, 1976- 1:45 am

What’s your favorite constellation?

I don’t know if I have one, why do you ask?

How can you not have one? Don’t you ever just look up at the stars?

Sometimes. But I didn’t learn any of the constellations until I got to Hogwarts, and now I think of them mostly as coursework.

Well, just pick a favorite.

Why? Is this some sort of trap? If I choose wrong, are you going to stop talking to me?

Maybe. We’ll have to see what your answer is.

. . . Leo?

Leo? Really? Please don’t tell me it’s because it’s a lion.

No, though tempting. If I went that route, I’d probably go Ursa Major instead.

The bear? What does that have to do with anything?

Never mind. I picked one, Leo. That’s my final answer.

But why? I want to understand.

You told me to choose, I chose.

. . . is it because of me?

Think highly of yourself, don’t you?

Shut up. You’re no fun.

I answered your question! Why am I no fun?!

***

May 31^st, 1976- 11:30 pm

Good luck on OWLs tomorrow.

Thanks, same to you for exams Regulus. Sweet dreams, sleep well.

You too Briar. Sweet dreams. 

Chapter Text

#1 Thestral Carriage Line (Hogsmeade Station, early 1976)

Lily had purposefully lost Marlene and Mary in the crowd. After a long train ride listening to their bickering, she simply couldn’t stand it any longer. They would assume that she’d gone off with Severus. A depressing excuse as much as a convenient one. It wasn’t like her best friend ever seemed to have the time of day for her anymore. She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting a shiver at the cold night breeze. Her school robes had always seemed thin, it was baffling how everyone looked so comfortable in them, while she was fighting to stay warm. Usually, it wasn’t a problem. She would wear muggle coats to Hogsmeade, and classes weren’t really outdoors. She could survive a brief walk between buildings. But the line of students boarding the carriages felt like it was moving at a snail’s pace, and she was at the very end. Every time the wind blew, Lily was reminded just how cold it really was.

“That wind really is biting, isn’t it?” James seemed to suddenly appear beside her.

Lily jumped. A strange jolt ran through her as she noticed just how close he was. “Where the bloody hell did you come from Potter?”

“What do you mean?” James asked earnestly.

He had that look on his face. That wide hazel eyes behind round frames, tilted head, and not a hint of a smile. Perfect innocence. It was the same look he gave the professors when they accused him of pulling a prank.

Lily decided she didn’t want to know. At least not right now.

Her face burned. It was the cold. Only the cold.

Another gust of wind sent her teeth chattering. James’s look of innocence faded to concern. The year prior, Lily would’ve laughed in someone’s face to think Potter was capable of such constant compassion. That was before she knew him. Before he’d come running to save Briar as soon as she’d written. Before he’d held her in his arms as she sobbed and talked her through all the panic and anger that followed. The person that she’d convinced herself that Potter was—selfish, immature, spoiled, entitled, even cruel—wasn’t what he turned out to be at all.

Well, he had his moments. But nothing like she’d thought. He was spoiled. That much was obvious just by his house, if not by the way his mother babied him. From that came a certain immaturity and entitlement that she used to judge him for.

It’s just that James turned out to be so much more. Now that she knew, it was so obvious.

And it was all very confusing for her.

Sev was pulling away. He was mean and elusive. She couldn’t talk to him about it. Not that she could have before. Looking back, she couldn’t tell how much of her hate for James had stemmed from Sev’s hate for him.

Sev was still her best friend though. And Potter had done some awful things to him. She still knew that to be true.

It was moments like this that Lily longed for her mum. She would’ve known what to do and the right advice to give. Without her, Lily had no one now. She and Briar didn’t talk very often. Maybe that was too harsh. They did, but only about light subjects like school. Bri didn’t like to talk about heavy stuff, ever, at all. Even if she tried, Bri would never be rational about the right subjects with her—she’d found that out after an unfortunate incident involving some cheap wine and one of Petunia’s Uni friends. The incident wasn’t as unfortunate for Lily as it was for the boy—and Petunia still hated her guts. Even if she pretended not to sometimes. Like when the older boys, she constantly hung around, wanted to flirt with Lily. That was a perfectly good reason to hang around the house when Petunia was otherwise basically a ghost nowadays.

“A ghost that pays the bills.” Petunia had snarked at Lily when she tried to call her sister out on it.

“Are you cold?” James’s voice brought Lily back to present.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her shuddering muscles to no eval. A sudden image of James offering her his cloak flashed across her mind. She didn’t know whether that excited her or terrified her.

“I’m okay.” She insisted anyway.

Better safe than sorry.

“Are the warming charms on your cloak worn out?” he asked.

She froze in place. He stopped with her, furrowing his brow.

“Warming charms?” Lily repeated.

She’d never thought of that.

Was that why no one was ever cold?!

She was going to kill Briar the next time she got a hold of him. He never thought of telling her anything!

“You do have warming charms on your cloak, don’t you?” James asked awkwardly.

He ran a hand through his hair. Usually, the action felt like preening to her. Right now, it seemed to be anxiety. He was avoiding her eyes and shifting slightly. That’d been happening more and more lately.

All these things that Lily had assumed James was doing on purpose, didn’t seem so purposeful anymore. Like his obsession with Quidditch. It wasn’t really so that he could show off and flaunt his wealth with his top-of-the-line gear. She’d seen him training over the summer and no one trained that hard for something that they did just to show off.

“I didn’t realize. . .” Lily trailed off and stared at the ground as well. She knew her cheeks were sure to beet red. She tucked her chin into her scarf, hoping it would help.

“So, that’s why you always look cold,” James chuckled.

She looked up and found him smiling. Not a mocking smile to make her feel embarrassed. A smile as if he had been wondering this whole time why she might be cold and finally had his answer.

Could he really think about her so much?

Surely not.

But could he?

A strange feeling was building inside her. Something in her chest that almost made her nervous. It did nothing to help calm her flaming cheeks.

“It’s alright, simple really.”

And just like that, he pulled out his wand. He took a step closer. She had to look up to make eye contact with him.

Had he always been that tall?

When they were hugging that summer, he surely wasn’t. He must’ve grown.

He dragged his wand slowly up her arm and muttered an incantation. His voice seemed deeper than normal, his cadence sweet and low. Warmth followed his touch, and Lily couldn’t help a small gasp at the strange sensations. Many of which seemed truly unrelated to the spell. James’s grin widened. There was a look in his eyes that she longed to know the meaning of.

A moment passed.

She wished for many things in that moment. Perhaps he would kiss her or ask her out. Holding hands. Removing his glasses. His hands on her waist. Her arms around his neck.

They seemed to be getting closer.

Then James stepped away. He turned slightly and let out a small cough. His cheeks were red, and he was avoiding eye contact again.

Lily felt like the stupidest girl in the world.

“I did know that charm,” Lily felt the need to point out. She crossed her arms again, this time defensively.

“I know you did.”

“I just didn’t think of using it.” She swallowed, trying not to cry. Her voice was nastier than she meant as a result. “Thanks for the help, Potter. We better be hurrying, don’t want to miss the carriages.”

***

#2 Library (Hogwarts, Early Spring 1976)

“If anything is going to make you fail your OWLs Lily, it’s going to be Potter.” Dorcas declared.

Lily startled in her chair, sending her books off the table and clattering to the ground with a loud thud. The librarian sent them a nasty look in response. Marlene couldn’t contain her laughter. Though to her credit, she tried. And then she sent Mary and Dorcas off. Which in turn caught the attention of Lily’s brother and his group of friends. Up until that moment, the boys were all sat around a table with their heads hung over books. It was much like her group was, like all the groups in the library were. Only, with the fifth year Gryffindor boys, she’d never seen them so still. Not even James’s snitch—that he’d been obsessed wit—was anywhere to be seen. They were all just there. Studying. Quietly. Like normal people. James wasn’t even bouncing his leg.

It’d been mesmerizing.

A daydream had overtaken her. One where James laid with his head on her lap playing with his snitch while she read. Every once in a while, the snitch was bound to interrupt her. She would snap, and he would laugh it off as he did so well. Then he would cradle her face in his hands and. . .

Now—because of Dorcas—James’s attention was on Lily and Lily’s face was burning. She turned away after she sent a glare to the group. Briar rolled his eyes and went back to his book. James’s gaze lingered. Then suddenly, he stood. His friends all followed him with their gazes, just as silent as before.

Lily could see Briar assessing the situation, but she wasn’t going to let him stop her. For a brief moment Lily was sure she knew James’s intentions upon approach. Her heart soared in a way she would never admit to anyone. He stopped right in front of her chair, at the end of the table, and looked down at her with that stupid cocky grin that she couldn’t get out of her head.

“Wotcher Lily, I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Of course.” Lily was so incredibly proud of how even her voice came out.

“Could I borrow your notes from Charms? I know you always take the best ones.”

After he’d gone back to his seat, Lily turned back and tried not to let her face fall. Though it was hard. That was the second time she’d been stupid enough to think that James Potter would like her.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Dorcas complained.

“Hush Dor,” Marlene shushed gently. “Just leave her be.”

Dorcas complied with a pout. She turned back to her book. Her chair was close enough to lean her head on Marlene’s shoulder. Across the table, next to Lily, Mary snuck glances at a Ravenclaw boy a year above them a few tables over. They were sending secret smiles to each other. Marlene was pretending not to be bothered by it. Dorcas knew better than to draw attention to Mary’s flirtations, and Lily related to Marlene more than she’d ever had before.

***

#3 Greenhouses (Hogwarts, early summer 1976)

Lily lingered after class. It was pathetic and silly, there was no doubt about that. Yet, when James seemed to read her mind and found his way back to her, it felt like fate. They snuck out and shared a cigarette. It wasn’t the first time they had done it. Though it had seemed to be much more common recently. Lily was trying desperately not to read into it. She feared her uncontrolled crush had become obvious. The last thing she wanted to do was lose another friend.

What would James do if he knew?

As the cigarette started to die out, someone interrupted their light conversation about student drama. It was perhaps the worst someone Lily could think of.

“Sev!” she squeaked. She cleared her throat but before she could speak her friend cut her off.

For a moment all three of them stared at each other. Lily, sitting propped up, with James looking up at her, midway through passing her the cigarette. Severus’s eyes swung between the two of them. He clenched his jaw, his face flushing.

“What are you doing with him?!” Severus snapped.

Lily hopped off the stone wall she was sitting on and walked up to her friend. Her and Severus had been drifting apart. They barely spoke anymore. He blamed it on OWLS, but she knew better. She reached out to him, and he flinched back, out of her hold.

“We were just smoking Sev—"

“Whatever, its not like I care,” he deflected.

Lily could see the hurt in his stance. It confused her more than ever. She didn’t understand what she’d done. All year, she’d been constantly missing Severus. Now it felt overwhelming. She reached out and he slapped her hand away before she could touch him. He was gone in an instant. Lily felt numb, staring after him. She had whiplash from how fast the encounter had been.

How could only a few moments be so devastating to her. Was she so weak?

“Are you alright?” James walked up behind her. He slowly—as if scared she’d run away—laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Lily bluffed. She forced a smile and looked up at him. “Fancy another fag?”

He studied her for a moment. His eyes were darker than usual. “I thought you’d never ask.”

About halfway through their next cigarette, James surprised Lily with a question. Not the question she wanted, of course, but a question she hadn’t expected from him.

“Do you like him?” James asked, not looking at her.

Lily took a moment to realize who James was talking about. She sighed.

It was not the first time she’d been asked the question. It was pretty much everyone’s go to over the years in an attempt to explain their friendship. Apparently, childhood friends weren’t enough.

“No,” Lily answered truthfully.

She stared at her legs swinging off the wall that James was leaning on next to her. Sometimes, she still felt like a child. Even though she knew that she wasn’t, not really. It was strange, because most days she felt twice her age. James would probably never understand such things, not like Sev did. She and Sev understood each other like no one else. She’d felt that way since they’d first met.

“I thought I might for a while,” she continued, surprising herself with the honesty. “Everyone insisted I must, for wanting to be friends with him. But I’ve just never seen him that way.”

James nodded. She risked meeting his eyes, scared of disbelief or judgment. Instead, she saw relief. It quickly faded into something else. Something she couldn’t describe. That look she wanted to know the meaning behind. The one that made her stomach clench and her breathing hitch.

She was sure then that he was about to say something.

But he didn’t.

James changed the subject. It was awkward and eventually just silence fell between them. They parted ways in a manner that made Lily’s stomach drop.

Had she done something wrong?

***

The Great Lake (Hogwarts, Summer 1976)

“I will if you go out with me, Lily,” said James quickly. “I promise that if you go out with me, I'll never lay a wand on Snape again.”

Lily’s heart stopped.

For months.

Nearly a year if she were completely honest with herself.

For nearly a year, she’d been waiting for James bloody Potter to ask her out. To show some definite sign that he liked her as more than just his friend’s sister. One that was unmistakable. In her stupid, childish, mind it made sense to her that if she showed him that she might like him, then he might consider her.

Instead, he’d realized and made fun of her.

It hurt.

She had begun to trust him.

She’d let him in.

On instinct, she glanced around looking for her twin. But Briar was nowhere to be seen. That was fine. Lily knew how to take care of herself.

“I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” Lily snarled.

James reeled back, as if it were unexpected. As if he’d really expected her to say yes.

If only he’d asked yesterday. Not like this. Never like this. This wasn’t what she imagined. Her expectations were shattered like glass, cutting away at her insides. This is what she got for getting her hopes up so high. She hadn’t been prepared, not in the slightest.

For a moment she dared to believe that his reaction meant his interest in her was genuine. Then she squashed that urge deep inside her. No. He must’ve figured out that she liked him and decided to make a mockery of her. In front of all these people. How long had he been planning it?

Black was muttering something, then he turned back to Severus and exclaimed. A flash of red appeared on James’s cheek, splattering on the inside of his round frames. The white collar of his robes stained with blood.

Lily took a step without thinking. James didn’t seem to register, nor Black. At first James only seemed shocked, then furious. Unlike Briar, his anger was controlled. There was cruelty on his face. Such that Lily had convinced herself that she’d imagined in the past and that her memory had become biased. Now there was no denying it. She couldn’t help but wonder if Briar had ever seen his friend this way. Not that it would change anything if he had.

By the time Potter had Severus hanging by his ankle with his underwear showing, Lily had enough.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” She screamed at Potter, whipping her wand out.

They went back and forth some. It was all a blur. Potter threatened to hex her.

He threatened to hex her.

She really had everything wrong about him. James was no knight in shining armor coming to her rescue. He was the black knight seducing her to try and take her castle.

A poor metaphor, but she was distracted.

He could try and hex her. He wouldn’t like what happened.

But he didn’t, they let Severus down, and with a single word Lily’s heart broke again.

Every night for weeks afterwards, she reminded herself that getting her hopes up would only lead to disappointment. She wouldn’t satisfy Severus or Potter by wallowing, nor would she be making the same mistakes again.

Chapter Text

Regulus felt a jolt of panic when he noticed that both Meadows and Briar had disappeared from the party. Them dancing together was one thing. He couldn’t do anything about that. Briar had to dance with his date as much as Regulus was required to dance with his. Sure, after so many of Slughorn’s potions and nearing the end of the night, the sight of Meadows's head on Briar’s chest was nearly painful. But Regulus managed not to hex the pair apart. Instead, he did what he was supposed to.

He played the part of Polly’s date. A part that he’d nearly perfected by this point.

Then Briar disappeared and he simply couldn’t do it any longer. Polly was tired enough not to argue about going back to dorms. He walked her there, trying not to rush, trying to seem perfectly casual. Like he didn’t need to turn the whole castle over until he knew for certain that Meadows wasn’t snogging Briar. Like he wasn’t completely freaking out inside.

Polly seemed excited about something as they made their way through the hall. Her energy dissipated slightly as they reached the common room. It was empty, and he tried to break off with a simple good night. Eager to have her go to bed so that he could sneak back out to look for Briar.

But she grabbed his hand just as he turned to leave.

“Wait, Regulus?” she asked in a hesitate voice.

“Yes?” he managed not to let his annoyance show.

At this point, pretending with her was easy, and his mask fell into place like it had always been there. A different mask than for most. This one tailored just for her and the letters she was no doubt exchanging with his mother.

The light was low, but it seemed that her cheeks were a little more flushed than usual. She ducked her head in a moment of uncharacteristic shyness. He found himself leaning in to try and hear her next words.

Then quick as the snake she was, she bounced to her tip toes and pecked her lips to his.

“Good night.”

Then she was gone.

Regulus stared after her.

He felt empty.

Since she was out of sight, he didn’t waste time exiting back into the main castle.

For a moment he just stood there, looking at the snake on the floor as if it would help him make sense of his thoughts.

It didn’t.

Greengrass had just kissed him.

It wasn’t unexpected. After all, they’d been all but together for about a year now. He’d heard her friends whispering about how long it was taking him. Her hints that she wanted him to kiss her had not been subtle. Every time that they got a little too close, she would close her eyes and hold her breath.

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

So, she had done it for him.

Part of him felt like he should be grateful. At least this way he didn’t have to initiate it.

But one kiss would mean that she wanted more. The thought of it made his insides squirm and his eyes sting. He was wincing like he was in pain, even once he noticed he couldn’t stop himself.

The thought suddenly struck him that Briar and Meadows could be doing something much worse right now. After what Greengrass had just done, Regulus couldn’t stop his feet from moving. He was running, completely undignified, through the halls. His mind worked fast as he tried to think of where Briar may have gone. He doubted the Room of Requirement, because Briar didn’t like to share that secret with just anyone. Same with most of the passages that he’d shown Regulus over the years.

The night was clear and crisp as Regulus reached the open air. The wanning crescent moon hung in the sky like a painting, the stars reflecting alongside it on the lake’s surface. He didn’t slow his stride, making his way down to the Boathouse with quick, fast steps.

Briar would want to smoke. At this time of night, the prefects rarely patrolled this area. A fact that Briar no doubt knew. Since he tended to know the prefects’ schedules better than the prefects themselves. However he’d managed that.

Regulus rounded the corner of the Boathouse and couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across his face as he saw that Briar was alone. He’d been startled by Regulus’s footsteps and had his wand at ready. But Regulus didn’t hesitate. After only half a term of them touching, he was addicted. He threw himself into Briar’s arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. His soft laugh echoed into Regulus’s chest like a soothing balm.

Regulus didn’t feel so empty anymore. Not as Briar’s hand ran through his gelled hair to muse it like he’d been thinking about doing so all night, and his other arm wrapped securely around Regulus’s middle.

“I found you,” Regulus declared, trying to catch his breath.

He pulled himself away before Briar could realize how desperately Regulus was clinging to him and tried to righten his robes out of habit. Though they were a lost cause without charms, and for once Regulus couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not while he was with Briar.

Alone.

No Meadows.

Thank Merlin, because Regulus wouldn’t have known how to explain himself if she had actually been there.

Regulus stared up at him with joy blooming inside his chest. Because everywhere else, Regulus had to be Regulus Arcturus Black II. But alone with Briar, he just got to be himself.

“That you did,” Briar said. He sounded strange, like Regulus had knocked the wind out of him.

In the faint moonlight, Briar’s emerald eyes made Regulus feel dizzy. Though that was probably the impromptu run and the numerous amounts of Slughorn’s drinks that he’d consumed over the course of the party.

“Did you already smoke?” Regulus asked.

Briar shook his head with a smile. “I’m all out. The rest are up in my dorm.”

“Well, I have plenty,” Regulus joked.

He pulled out his case, and didn’t look before he handed one to Briar and then lit his own. Blessed relief came from the first hit. As he pulled it away from his lips, Briar took a step forward and stole it from his hand. Regulus tilted his head as Briar brought the filter to his lips. A familiar warmth rushed through him as he watched Briar’s lips close around it.

“I gave you one,” Regulus pouted.

Regulus had never envied inanimate objects the way he’d begun to envy cigarette filters.

“I wanted yours,” Briar teased, his voice low.

Regulus wanted to kiss him.

His smile faded off his face as he remembered Greengrass’s lips on his. It wasn’t what he wanted for his first kiss. He hadn’t dared to fully admit to himself what he had wanted. Now, he regretted that. He regretted every moment he hadn’t spent thinking about Briar’s lips.

Did Briar think about Meadows lips?

“I saw you with Meadows,” Regulus said before he could stop himself. He thought of the gentle way that she and Briar had swayed together. “You were dancing together.”

Briar’s smile turned into more a smirk as he passed the cigarette back to Regulus. They continued to share it as they spoke. Neither of them stepped away, still barely a foot of distance between them.

“I danced with her quite a few times, I’d be an awful date otherwise. Wouldn’t I?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Regulus conceded, trying not to sound as despondent as he felt. “Still I—”

“Dorcas is in love with Marlene,” Briar said in a fond tone. “She needed comforting.”

“Oh.”

Regulus felt like a bit of an idiot. He had no idea that Meadows was into other witches. Then again, he hadn’t known that Pandora was either until she’d told him about her date with McKinnon. When he asked, she’d told him that she liked wizards and witches equally. Regulus had lied when she’d turned the question onto him.

He found himself staring into Briar’s eyes again. Like gravity brought them back there.

Something shifted. Briar’s smirk turned a little darker.

“I saw you and Greengrass,” Briar wasn’t teasing anymore. “You looked like you were having fun. Did your fair share of dancing.”

Regulus’s stomach dropped.

He didn’t want to think about it.

His gaze fell to the wood below them. Wondering if the giant squid would be kind enough to end his misery, without harming Briar in the process. It would be easier for everyone that way.

“Are you two dating?”

The question took Regulus off guard. No one had ever asked him that before. Not even Greengrass. The shock of it was enough to lock his eyes with Briar’s again.

“What?” His chest felt tight. He didn’t want to lie, but acknowledging the truth felt too painful to bare. “No that’s not—I mean—It’s complicated.”

Briar took it as a confirmation. Regulus could see it on his face. It was usually hard to tell what Briar was thinking and now was no exception. Though Regulus knew one thing for certain. Briar thought that Regulus and Greengrass were dating.

Because they were.

But they weren’t.

Regulus didn’t want them to be. Not really.

If he never talked to her again, he would be happy.

It just wasn’t his choice.

It never was.

Regulus’s eyebrows creased as something else hit him.

Briar was upset by this news. Very upset. He wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it, which wasn’t entirely like him. Not unless something had seriously troubled him. He turned out to look at the lake.

“Briar—”

“I’m happy for you,” Briar said in a tight voice, and Regulus’s throat constricted painfully at his empty tone. “She seems to really like you. I can’t believe I never realized.” Briar let out a humorless laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Though I suppose that you’ve been seeing each other since last year. So, it really is on me.”

“Wait I—” Regulus tried to choke something out.

The words just wouldn’t come. He didn’t know what to say. Everything inside of him was crumbling like a sandcastle against a wave.

Brair took the last hit of their cigarette and smashed in under his foot. When he lifted it, it had vanished. Another small feat of wandless magic from the older boy for Regulus to add to his list.

“I’m pretty tired, I think I’ll head to bed,” Briar said.

Regulus’s eyes were wide.

He was rooted to his spot as Briar began to walk by. Frozen.

Coward.

What would Sirius do?

Would he let Briar walk away?

Regulus couldn’t say.

Only that in that moment he tried his best to summon that Gryffindor courage that seemed to come to so easily to his older brother.

With the agility of a seeker, Regulus reached out and wrapped his hand around Briar’s tie.

Briar turned to him.

Regulus didn’t have a plan. He just pulled until Briar was close enough for him to surge forward and their lips to meet. With no clue what he was doing, he just pressed them together as hard as he could, hoping that Briar would understand. Hoping that it could say everything that he couldn’t.

Then he realized what he’d just done.

Briar hadn’t moved.

Regulus yanked himself away, terror filling him.

He’d messed it all up.

Briar was going to hate him now.

He tried to apologize, trying desperately to fix this situation. “I’m so—”

This time it was Briar who reached out, and with one hand on the back of Regulus’s neck, he cut him off with a kiss.

A proper one this time.

Everything in Regulus flooded with relief, before quickly being replaced by an intense warmth that spread from Briar’s touch into his veins. Briar moved their mouths together, and all Regulus could do was follow his lead.

It was better than Regulus could’ve imagined, if he’d let himself imagine it before. Nothing like the peck that Greengrass had stolen, or the messy pressing of lips that he’d imitated. This was a proper kiss. The kind that people wrote poems about. Regulus never understood it. He’d thought that kissing seemed more unnecessary than anything else. But he’d been very wrong.

Kissing Briar was very necessary. The most essential thing in Regulus’s life.

How he’d lived without it, he didn’t know.

He had to pull away, his breath exploding out of his chest. His head felt faint.

Briar was glowing.

Quite literally, the older boy seemed to have lost control of his magic and had a faint radiance to his skin that Regulus knew he wasn’t imaging. His emerald eyes bore the brunt of the accidental magic. Something that Regulus wasn’t sure how to name, shown from them and illuminated the dark.

He stepped forward and Regulus subconsciously retreated until his back hit the wall behind him. Regulus was at Briar’s mercy. And it felt like exactly where he belonged.

Briar pressed him into the wood and connected their mouths like he needed it just as much as Regulus did. Regulus let his eyes shut again as Briar’s magic washed over them both like a warm breeze. Briar’s hand wove into Regulus’s hair.

Regulus gasped.

Briar’s tongue took advantage of the new territory and didn’t hesitate to find Regulus’s. A new sensation, but not an unpleasant one. Not unpleasant at all. One hand came up to Briar’s chest. Just feeling the muscle beneath it.

This was better than smoking. Better than any book had promised.

Regulus never wanted to stop.

He’d be happy to die, snogging Briar.

Then a splash in the water shocked them apart.

Regulus looked quickly, but didn’t see anyone.

Briar’s glow was gone.

He stood there, staring at Regulus in horror. As if he couldn’t believe what they’d just done. In moments, he fled, leaving Regulus there, staring after him in shock.

Regulus didn’t let himself hesitate. He cast a spell, just to ensure that the noise had not been made by a person. It was likely a fish, or some other creature that lived in the lake, but he couldn’t be too sure. If they’d been seen. . .

Briar would be in danger. He’d be targeted. Regulus couldn’t let that happen.

He didn’t leave until he was absolutely certain that there had been no one. His memory charms needed practice anyway, if it came to that. Thankfully it didn’t. Regulus found his way back to his dorms as quickly as he could and pulled out his journal as soon as he’d charmed his curtains shut.

Briar, no one saw us. I made sure to check.

There was no response.

Regulus couldn’t breathe. His eyes stung.

Please Briar, I’m sorry.

Please don’t be angry.

But there was nothing. The messages disappeared onto the page. Regulus had no way of knowing if they were ever read.

He curled his knees to his chest and sobbed. His arms wrapped tightly around himself, and his head tucked as low as it’d go.

He’d ruined the one good thing in his life. All in a single moment of weakness.

Just like his mother always warned him he would.

Chapter Text

#1- Restricted Section (Hogwarts, late Fall 1974)

Lily didn’t breathe until the gates of the Restricted Section were out of sight. It was then she finally let her disillusion charm fall and stood up properly. Unlike her brother and his friends, she was not well versed in sneaking out past curfew. Even less so in sneaking into places she didn’t belong. If all went well, in the future Professor Slughorn would give her a pass, but she was too impatient to wait.

Learning from Briar was not an easy thing. It wasn’t that he was a bad teacher. When he wanted to be, he was actually an excellent one. The problem lay in what he was willing to teach her and when. He deliberately kept back information. Not to mention how he would constantly drag his feet when it came to teaching anything other than occlumency and defensive magic. After over a year of learning under him, Lily had finally decided to take things into her own hands.

It took a while to find the books she wanted. Apparently parselmouths were not well documented. Either that or for some reason the books on the matter were pulled from the library or not kept there. It struck Lily as odd, considering that one of the founders of Hogwarts was one.

Once she got what she needed, she didn’t hesitate to get out. She got back to her dorm with only a few close calls—that her charm definitely saved her from—and then pulled her curtains closed and read herself to sleep with stories of snakes, basilisks, and secret chambers. She was done with the books by a week later.

She didn’t wait to get Slughorn’s pass to go back for more.

***

#2 The Seventh Floor of the Astronomy Tower (Hogwarts, early summer 1976)

Briar was not an easy person to follow. Lily had suspected that would be the case, but was not fully aware of how true it was until she was faced with the task. While Briar could make other people not notice him since they were kids, it had never worked on her. She always saw him too clearly. So, she thought that perhaps she would have an advantage.

She quickly realized that Briar had stopped relying on his trick from childhood. Now he used complex stealth charms like it was second nature.

The more she learned about her twin, the more confused she’d become.

So, it took a while—and hours of research—but Lily was finally able to do it. She followed him to the seventh floor of the Astronomy Tower.

Then he vanished.

Once she had the trick down, it was fairly easy to replicate. Though she could admit that Briar was tricky and didn’t use the same tactics every time, which causes some delays. She eventually was able to follow close enough to see him enter a door.

Only for it to close behind him and disappear as if it were never there.

The third time was the hardest. Still, she was determined and stubborn. Eventually Lily was able to sneak up behind Briar, catch the door before it closed, and enter into his secret room behind him. It made her unreasonably smug to see his reaction.

He never seemed to realize just how long she had to follow him to get to that point. Which was another point of pride with Lily. With what she knew of her brother, she doubted that anyone else would’ve been able to pull it off without him quickly finding them out.

***

#3 The Second Floor Bathroom (Hogwarts, Early Fall 1976)

After talking to Pandora, Lily found a chance to investigate the haunted girl’s bathroom on her own. It was fairly easy to do. Her patrol partner was happy to let Lily check the bathroom on her lonesome. Moaning Myrtle was not an easy ghost to get along with, and most people avoided the bathroom like the plague, even when on prefect patrol. She made the excuse of having to use it to loo herself, to buy more time.

It was a hunch more than anything, as she found herself studying the mirrors and sinks for some sort of sigil or sign of magic. Pandora had mentioned that she was hearing strange noises coming from the piping in the room. She’d also asked Lily if she knew of a potion that could cure someone of possession via dark magic. Two very strange things to say back-to-back. Lily had helped her to find such a potion, but Pandora had only cited academic interest in it. It was obvious that wasn’t the true reason, though the Ravenclaw didn’t crack under Lily’s scrutiny.

They had both had a brief laugh when the poison of a Briar Toad was an ingredient of said potion.

The encounter had stuck with Lily. Hence why she’d decided to investigate the bathroom for herself.

Just as she was about to give up, a small engraving caught her eye on one of the sink faucets. She had to bend to look at it properly.

Without a doubt, there was a small snake carved into the metal.

Her mind immediately when to the Chamber of Secrets. Parselmouth rested on the tip of her tongue. Her curiosity burned in her chest.

Was this really it?

Had she found it?

She wanted to open it. To find out what was inside. She’d read that there was a library in there. It must hold the rarest of magic books. Perhaps something that could help her and Briar defeat Voldemort once and for all.

Then she remembered that she was on patrol. She tore herself away, and did her best to pretend that everything was normal.

The next day she made the mistake of bringing up the idea to Briar. Next time she approached the door of the bathroom, she barely caught the charm that he’d put up before it alerted him to her presence. It was only due to the things he’d taught her that she was able to do such a thing. With almost anyone else, it would’ve been completely unnoticeable.

She thought that was pretty ironic. Even more, weeks later, when she used a complicated countercharm she’d found in one of his books—that he didn’t know she’d magically made a copy of—to take the warding down without him noticing.

***

The Gryffindor Tower (Hogwarts, Late Fall 1976)

Lily was patient. She waited weeks after bringing up the Chamber of Secrets before returning to the site. Briar had practically confirmed her unspoken theory when he’d put the warding up. She knew that he would be paranoid about it for a while. So, she did her best to lull him into a false sense of security. She didn’t bring it up to him again, and stayed away from the bathroom, even after she’d taken the warding down.

Once she finally thought it was safe, she snuck out in the middle of the night and started to make her way down to the second-floor bathroom. She’d barely made it out of the portrait, when she let out a yelp of shock and stumbled back into the wall.

James Potter suddenly appeared out of thin air before her. Black gave her a suspicious look. Both boys straightened up like they’d been half hunched over, standing very close to one another.

“Wotcher Lily,” Potter greeted in an odd tone. “Nice disillusion charm you have there.”

Lily sighed and let the charm fall. It was useless at that point anyway. She crossed her arms and put on her best prefect face. “What are you two doing out of bed at this hour?”

“Could say the same for yourself Evans,” Black shot back.

They stared at each other defiantly. Both too stubborn to be the first to back down.

Potter stepped in between them, and gave Lily a searching look. Then he let out a breath and ran a stressed hand through his messy raven locks. Just like the rest of them, he’d grown up quite a bit over the last year. Lily couldn’t help but be slightly enraged at herself as she had to resist watching James’s muscles during the familiar action. He was wearing a lounge shirt that he had pushed up to his elbows. It was a dark blue that complemented his brown skin and hazel eyes.

Lily lost her gusto at the pleading look he was giving her.

When he’d spent the weekend at their house over the summer, he’d tried so many times to apologize to her. But she’d shut him down until he’d given up. She wasn’t ready to hear it yet.

Because she wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. And she knew she’d be too weak not to if he’d explained why he’d done what he’d done. She knew that against his earnest voice, and sparkling eyes, she would crumble like a house of cards.

Then if he tried to. . .

She didn’t even want to consider it, even for a second. It would be so much better if she could just get over him. If he would just never mention anything romantic between them again, she just might.

That didn’t seem very likely.

“Lily, Bri’s in trouble,” James’s broke her out of her thoughts.

“What?” she took a step forward without meaning to. “What do mean? Is someone hurt?”

Her mind immediately went to first year. Briar’s temper had a tendency to get the better of him.

“No—yes—well that’s not the problem at the moment,” James struggled to say. He took a step forward and reached out. “Come with us. We need to find him. I’ll explain on the way.”

Chapter Text

When Sirius found Pandora on that autumn day, he’d planned to talk to her about Remus. She was the only one that knew about their relationship. It hadn’t been a purposeful thing, that happening. When Sirius and Pandora had sort of dated in Fourth Year, they had talked a lot. A whole lot more than Sirius had honestly talked to any of his other ‘girlfriends’ that he’d run through over the years combined. It was Pandora that had first pointed out his crush on Remus in the first place. Before she’d said something Sirius hadn’t understood why he felt differently when he was alone with Remus.

He’d actually beaten himself up a lot over it. For years he’d thought that he just struggled to be alone with Remus or have him touch him because of a subconscious werewolf bias that he would never be able to shake. He’d counted it as yet another thing his parents had ruined about him.

It being a crush made a lot more sense.

After all, even though Sirius had struggled to interact with Remus the same way he interacted with James or Bri, he’d always dive face first into the suffering every chance he got. He craved Remus like he began to crave cigarettes at about that time.

His friends had warned him they were addicting.

“Good,” Sirius had told them. “I hope it gives my mother an aneurysm when she finds out that I’m addicted to something so muggle.”

Walburga had never found out in the end. Sirius had been cursed to near death and ran away long before she had the chance.

But no one had warned him about Remus.

After Sirius had realized his crush on Remus, things were all downhill from there. He tried to ignore it at first, but that just made everything worse. Next thing he knew, he was thinking of Remus all the time because he was constantly trying not to think of Remus. Which was a torturous mental loop that Sirius had been stuck in for most of Fifth Year.

Then something shifted for them. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened. Perhaps when he’d lied to Remus about Bri being hurt that first full moon that they all spent together. It took a few weeks of the cold shoulder and an eventually melt down from Remus for them to be alright again. Sirius and Remus felt closer after he’d calmed Remus down. They never told anyone about that moment. Not for any particular reason.

It just seemed too private and intimate to share.

Slowly, things evolved from there. Sirius became aware they were touching much more than they ever had before. It got to the point that in late evenings when James and Bri were off doing their own things, Sirius and Remus would straight up cuddle in the dorms while Remus read a book and Sirius smoked and brooded about his family.

Then, at that miracle of a muggle party that Bri’s friend Jack brought them to, Sirius and Remus kissed for the first time. Then of course they proceeded to snog each other silly until they were interrupted by Jack’s confession to Bri and Bri’s gentle-ish rejection to the poor muggle.

Briar had yet to bring it up.

Pandora was the only one that knew about the details of Remus and Sirius, because she could spot it on them the minute she saw them in Diagon Alley in August. Sirius had been using her as a confidant ever since. It was a relief to have someone to talk to. Sirius was not a calm person when it came to things he was new to. Snogging, he thought he had plenty of practice in. But it turned out that Sirius was not Bisexual like Pandora, as he’d suspected. Snogging Remus was nothing like snogging any bird that Sirius had dated. His body reacted in ways that he couldn’t control and. . .

He was just very grateful he now had Pandora to come to when he needed reassurance that he wasn’t going mad.

Which is why, that autumn Saturday, he sought her out. Only things did not go as predicted. He found her with her feet in the lake as usual. This time, she seemed to be looking for something as she waded though the low water. He jogged down the hill and raised a hand to her in greeting as he called out.

“Oi! Pandora!”

He got to the edge of the water and noticed a form in his peripheral immediately. A shock of panic went down his spine as he spotted Regulus, sat against a large tree truck that had initially blocked him from view.

Sirius’s first thought was that Regulus was bullying Pandora. In her early years she’d been bullied by that bitch Greengrass. But it hadn’t lasted long when Pandora had stood up for herself and after that Greengrass had left her alone completely, and almost seemed scared of her. Though James had said at the time that he though Greengrass looked rather regretful, Sirius couldn’t see it.

As quickly as that knee-jerk thought came, it went. Because Regulus had his legs stretched out in front of him, his back relaxed against the trunk, and his hair down. This was not the Regulus that pretended to be cruel. This was Regulus in a relaxed state that Sirius had nearly forgotten the sight of.

It hurt his heart so much it was hard to breathe.

He missed his brother so badly.

There was nothing he could about it.

***

The reveal that Regulus and Pandora were friends. Good friends. That smoked together.

Scratch that. The reveal that Regulus not only was friends with Pandora, but smoked cigarettes at perhaps an even higher rate than Sirius himself—if the Ravenclaw was to be believed—shook Sirius to his very core. He didn’t want to let it go. It was on his mind at all times. He found himself subtly watching Regulus every chance he got. Since his brother was preparing for OWLs, the library was a great place to Regulus-watch. Sirius learned a lot about his brother that way.

And even if he did use the cloak for the majority of it, that didn’t make it stalking, despite anything that Remus said.

He learned that his brother was definitely going to be a Death Eater. Which wasn’t a surprise, but still hurt. The way Regulus interacted with Snape was typical of two Slytherins. Snape was low on the hierarchy, though it seemed that he had somehow earned his way up. Apparently even to the point that he was staying with the Malfoys’.

The way that made Sirius seethe was hard to articulate.

His hate for Snape grew tenfold as he watched the pair.

He also learned that his brother was already planning on marrying that bitch Greengrass that used to bully Pandora. That Regulus stayed most of his holidays at the Malfoys’ as well—which was as much horrific as if was a relief because at least Regulus was away from Orion and Walburga.

Most importantly, Sirius found out that Regulus was very adept at completely disappearing, then somehow making his way back to his dorm. Where Sirius could not reach him.

Sirius was pretty pathetic, but he wasn’t sneaking into the Slytherin common room using the cloak pathetic.

Though it was tempting.

Very tempting.

Sirius’s obsession with Regulus hit an all-time high when Bri came back after the Slug Club party with a dazed look and one of Regulus’s distinct cigarettes.

Sirius hadn’t exactly responded . . . well.

At quidditch practice the next morning, he ended up being sent back to the castle because he was hitting bludgers too hard. Too hard. He hadn’t even realized that it was possible to hit a bludger too hard.

“You’re back early.” Remus noted. He was sat on his bed, his ankles crossed in front of him, and some muggle romance book that he was about to finish.

Sirius didn’t hesitate to turn into Padfoot and bound—muddy and wet—into Remus’s lap. He began to let out loud, pitiful whines.

“Padfoot!” Remus scolded. Then he immediately caved, as he normally usually did. He pat a gentle hand over the fur on Sirius’s head. “What happened love?”

All Sirius could do was cry out more in answer.

How could he confess his greatest crime to the man he loved?

Regulus was a Death Eater. He was a Death Eater who Sirius could only assume was coming for his best friend.

And the worst part of it all was that it was all Sirius’s fault.

The Dark Lord was promised a Black child from both Orion and Cygnus. Neither of them had ever taken the mark, but their loyalty was unquestioned. They had both sworn a child to the service of Voldemort as a gift to their glorious master. No force was needed.

As Walburga often liked to brag at the supper table.

From Cygnus, the Dark Lord received Bellatrix. The first born of his line. At first, it had been a bit of a source of disappointment for Sirius’s uncle. It would’ve been much preferred to have been able to provide his master with a son. Then Bellatrix grew up into the absolute maniac she was, and all shame was long forgotten.

It was Sirius that was meant to have taken up that sacrificial role for Orion.

Not Regulus.

When had it become Regulus?

When Sirius left?

Or had it happened long before that?

When Sirius was sorted in Gryffindor?

He should’ve fought the hat.

Only then who knows what he would’ve become. It was painful to imagine himself without his best friends. Without Remus.

Only now Regulus, clever Regulus, was surely coming for one of Sirius’s best friends. Bri was a vulnerable target. He was powerful with magic, but had a nervous temperament—which people often mistook for anger but anyone who knew him well enough wasn’t fooled—and a number of people in his life who could be leveraged against him.

The pain was dulled as Padfoot, but even then, it was overwhelming. At least this way, he didn’t hear his mother’s voice in his mind screaming at him about how worthless he was. He panted and tried to focus on Remus’s even hand on his head rather than his racing thoughts.

***

Sirius confronted Regulus. It did not go well. He was left unable to understand what side that Regulus was on, and if he was lying.

He always used to be able to tell when Regulus was lying.

The stalking ceased, because Sirius honestly couldn’t stand to look at his brother longer than necessary. Not when he’d become someone that Sirius no longer knew. The pain was too much to bare.

Instead, he focused that diminished energy on Briar. He started to watch his friend like he’d never before. Which proved even more difficult than Regulus. In fact, Sirius quickly found that it was nearly impossible to follow Bri. Not even the map was of any use. Which confounded Sirius.

“Are you still stalking your brother?” Remus asked around a mouthful of smoke. They sat in the dorm window seat, across from each other with their legs intertwined under a blanket to stay warm from the chilly air. The window was cracked to let out the smell. “I thought you said that you were over that now that you no longer think that he’s still trying convert Bri to the forces of Mordor.”

“Mordor?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times Sirius! Remember, The Lord of the Rings. . .?”

Sirius took a drag of his cigarette and looked up from the map for a moment to think. He snapped his fingers and grinned as it came back to him.

“It’s that muggle fantasy book with the ring, right?”

“Yes,” Remus sighed. “That one. Anyway, I thought you were done with that.”

“I am.” Sirius when back to searching the map for Briar’s dot.

He refused to believe that Briar spent this much time in the Room of Requirement. Was he leaving Hogwarts? Sirius never saw him walk off into one of the secret passages.

“Then who are you looking for?” Remus leaned forward to studying the map with him like it would give him some sort of insight into Sirius’s mind.

“Briar.”

Remus snorted and then suddenly seemed to lose all interest. He leaned back and opened his book again with a little smirk he was failing to repress.

“What?” Sirius narrowed his eyes into a glare at the boy opposite him. “What are you laughing about over there?”

“Nothing,” Remus dismissed. The humor in his voice was clear as day. He stared at his book, but he clearly wasn’t reading it.

Sirius snatched it out of his hands the same way he used to Regulus when they were kids. He danced away and out of reach of Remus as he scrambled to his feet. Sirius felt a smile of his own begin to grow on his face. One that was mirrored by Remus.  

The taller boy stared Sirius down. “Give it back Padfoot.”

“Nope. Not until you tell me.”

“It’s nothing, honest.” Remus tried to deflect. He made a grab for his book, but Sirius dodged like the expert quidditch player he was.

“Alright. It’s mine now.”

They went back and forth for a while after, until it somehow ended with them on Remus’s bed with their tongues intertwined and their bodied pressed together.

***

“You’re my boyfriend, you have to tell me!” Sirius never let it go. It wasn’t in his nature. The snogging was just a brief distraction.

A brilliant brief distraction.

“Boyfriend?” Remus froze.

Sirius’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t realized that that wasn’t an established title. They had never used it before, now that he thought about it, but he’d assumed that it was implied.

“Are we not—”

“Sirius,” Remus looked very grave as he reached across the window seat they’d eventually returned to for a post snog cigarette. “I don’t know how to tell you this—”

“We don’t have to be boyfriends!” Sirius panicked. “We can just—”

“But we are very much boyfriends. You never let me finish Padfoot.” Remus laughed as Sirius shoved him lightly. “I’ve just never heard you say it before.”

“Does that mean you’ll tell me why I can’t find Briar on the map?” Sirius immediately brightened when he saw defeat in Remus’s eyes.

***

“The Chamber of Secrets,” Sirius repeated softly to himself. He tried not to let himself panic too much. Just in case basilisks could smell it. “The Chamber of Secrets. The Chamber of Secrets.”

“You alright over their Padfoot?” James bumped their shoulders as they walked. His voice echoed out into the chamber louder than even their thunderous, splashing footsteps.

“Alright? Alight?” Sirius hissed back manically. “I just found out that my two muggleborn friends are parselmouths—”

“Aw you consider me a friend?” Lily teased from a step ahead of the two. Her wand was the only light in the dank, awful hellscape.

“—and not only that but my brother told Remus to get me to help one of the two muggleborns. You know, the very things he’s sworn to hate. Meanwhile, my best friend—”

“Oi! I thought I was your best friend!” James interjected with a crinkle around his eyes, visible even in the dim light, that gave away his amusement.

“—one of my best friends, the one that’s a muggleborn and parselmouth might be dying for all we know. And our only hope is that there is maybe a basilisk down here. And even if there is, then it may or may not eat us—”

“I won’t let it eat you.” Lily assured him, continuing forward like she’d been waiting to do this a long time.

“—and even if it doesn’t eat us, then it’ll probably just kill us dead with its stare. Then it will probably eat our corpses. Which is honestly better. Because a snake takes days to digest its meals and they eat things alive. Which mean that it probably won’t kill us first—”

“Take a breath Padfoot,” James wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders. “Everything will be alright.”

“But how do you know that, Prongs?” Sirius argued.

“I trust Lily,” James looked at the ginger a few feet in front of them with an expression that Sirius found hard to grasp.

If he had to name, it. He would say it was true love he was seeing in his friend’s eyes. James’s arm fell from his shoulders, and Sirius wasn’t even angry about it. They needed to be ready incase things didn’t go the way Lily thought. Which in Sirius’s opinion was the most likely scenario.

James’s look that only intensified after Lily somehow calmed a furious, ginormous basilisk with her eyes closed. All their eyes were closed, in fact, to try and save themselves from the whole death thing.

“You can open your eyes now,” Lily’s voice sounded strange after Sirius had heard her speaking parseltongue for so long.

Sirius almost didn’t comply.

But then he remembered that the hat had put him in Gryffindor. So, he couldn’t be afraid of a snake.

He finally opened his eyes and found the basilisk didn’t scare him.

It absolutely terrified him.

James was just as frozen shock in sight of the massive serpent in Sirius’s peripheral. Which didn’t make Sirius feel any better.

From its large nostrils, the basilisk released a few brief breaths. She hissed through a closed mouth something that made Lily giggle into her hand.

Sirius realized that the snake was laughing at him.

Which was fine.

It could laugh at him all it wanted as long as it didn’t eat him.

“Her gaze won’t harm you unless she wishes it to, she’s a mature basilisk,” Lily informed them. Then she went back to conversing with the monster as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Sirius reached out blindly, unable to take his eyes away from the threat in front of him from pure instinct. He found James’s hand after a brief moment of waving his hand around helplessly. His tight grip was awkward for a moment, until James managed to free his hand and then interlace them properly.

“Just breathe,” James whispered under his breath. It sounded as if he were talking to himself as much as Sirius.

Chapter Text

Briar and Lily Evans: Aquarius sun, Pisces moon, Virgo rising

Explanation: Lily has a canonical birthday, so that is why they are both an Aquarius sun. Aquarius is an interesting sign, though it is the first of the year we follow in the modern day (at least the first full one), they are the second to last sign in the astrological year. Which if you think about the astrological year as a life cycle, makes them the second oldest (which in my understanding means they’re generally more mature). Aquarius signs are known for their stubbornness, determination to reach their goals, independence, intellectual mind, and insistence on following their own path (among other things of course). I have also found them to be emotional in a hard to describe way (internalized for sure). They are an air sign, but are symbolized by the water bearer. Which gives them in an interesting nature.

I gave the twins a Pisces moon because they are both very emotionally driven. Along with their intuition and occasional out of touch/unrealistic thinking. Then I have them as Virgo risings for their sense of being grounded (though Lily more than Bri by far) and their sense of family loyalty along with their ability for organization/planning. Also, because they come across more put together than they really are to people who don’t know them.

James Potter: Aries sun, Sagittarius moon, Gemini rising

Explanation: James has a canonical birthday, which is why he has an Aries sun. Aries is the first of the astrological year, which means that in the life cycle of the zodiac, they are the child. They are known for their impulsiveness, boldness, self-assured nature, independence, straight forward thinking, and impatience. It is a fire sign, which means that they burn bright. But can also burn others easily, both on purpose and by mistake. As well as often burn themselves out. James actually has the same chart as me on this level (there is a lot more to an astrology chart I’m not getting into, and I don’t fully understand). It’s not just because he’s my favorite character, but because I’ve always felt like I understand him on a deeper level, flaws and all.

I made him a Sagittarius moon because I feel like he should have a lot of fire in his chart, and because of his cleverness, along with his endless quest for entertainment/challenge. He is a Gemini rising, because the air feeds the fire and because he comes across as flightier when you first meet him/don’t know him. It also makes it so that people have a completely different impression of him unless they know him well enough. They may think he’s overly arrogant, or even cruel.

Sirius Black: Scorpio sun, Sagittarius moon, Pisces rising

Explanation: Once again, Sirius has a canonical birthday which is why he’s a Scorpio. Though fun fact about Scorpio is that it’s the other warrior sign (the first being Aries) and it used to be thought of as ruled by Mars as a fire sign. But then it was discovered that it was ruled by Pluto and as such is actually a water sign. Which, as I understand it, makes Scorpios a lot like Aries, but with more emotional turbulence. Which is why Scorpios usually hold grudges, whereas most Aries do not (me included). Scorpios are known for their intensity, their personal drive, being uncontrollable, and willpower.

I gave Sirius the same moon sign as James for the same reasons (and because they seem to understand each other so well), in addition to feeling like Sirius is often trying to find his place in the world. I gave him a Pisces rising to add even more of that emotional-ness to him, for his creativity, and because I feel like he probably comes off as more carefree, carelessly emotional, and wishy-washy to a stranger.

Remus Lupin: Pieces sun, Leo moon, Gemini rising

Explanation: Remus also has a canonical birthday, which explains his Pieces sun. Pieces are the oldest of the zodiac year, and therefore often the calmest and most mature. They are known for being creative, emotional, and sensitive. Along with having a longing for understanding and their place in the world. They are like the old souls of the zodiac.

I gave him a Leo moon because I feel like he needed a little fire with all the friends he has, and because he very much seems to subconsciously crave socialization/attention/fire given his best friends. I honestly had a lot of trouble with his rising sign. I decided on Gemini because I think that Remus comes across as semi flighty, as if he might disappear into the wind at any moment. So, he needs a little air in his chart. Plus, he comes off as a very different person when you first meet him than he truly is.

Regulus Black: Capricorn sun, Aries moon, Gemini rising

Explanation: Regulus is the only person included here that does not have canonical birthday, so I had to make him one. Which is actually how this astrological list came into existence. Capricorns are an earth sign, and Regulus is arguably the most grounded character in this list. They are known for their tenacity, ambition, responsibility, and focus on how they present themselves. They are very pragmatic, and are patient enough to work for what they want. I thought it was very fitting for Regulus as a sign. He thinks a lot about fashion, about how other people interpret him, along with being strong-willed and loyal.

The Aries moon is because of his passion, occasional impulse/naivety, and general inner fire. There is a fight him that a lot of people around him don’t realize is there. An inner warrior. Regulus’s heart of lion, if you will. Then I also gave him a Gemini rising. Because once again, he comes off as very, very different to people who don’t know him. And despite being an earth sign, his head sometimes feels like it’s up in the clouds. Like if he jumped, he could ride a strong wind far, far away.

Chapter Text

1957

The job was something. A starting position as a foreman was nothing to scoff at. But after so many years in the army, Eric felt unmoored. Every night he came home to an empty house that he’d bought with cash once he moved back to the smog ridden town. In reflection, he wished he’d gotten something much smaller. A single level. He’d gotten swept up in the fantasy of it all and gotten himself a family home. The kind that he’d never had. The kind he’d always wanted.

The kind that Teddy would never get.

He thought about Teddy constantly.

It didn’t make any sense. At least not anymore.

In the army, it’d made sense. Eric had stayed after the war, and had worked hard to make his brother proud. Then things had gotten to be too much. The nightmares finally caught up to him. Just like they had so many of his friends.

His drinking became too much to hide.

It was only because he had connections that he’d been given such a strong reference on his way out. Otherwise. . . well the good grace of the army only prolonged the inevitable. Every night, after striding in the door of his vacant home, he would stomp up the stairs to his empty room and change into a tee-shirt and some trousers. Then he would leave once more without even a care to lock the door behind him. The Cokeworth Inn wasn’t the only place in town to get a drink. Though out of the three, it fell in the middle in terms of quality. Nice enough of a place that the bitters were to his taste. But not so posh that he couldn’t get completely pissed there, make a fool of himself, black out, and then come back the next night to repeat the process.

As the seasons passed in that first year, he became well known to the inn staff.

His favorite was Rose.

Rose.

Perhaps Rose was the reason he went to the inn after all. Her soft, white-blonde hair was pulled back in a perfect ballerina bun. She was busy with her job as the housekeeper. And most nights she didn’t have the time nor care for him. Which suited him just fine. He didn’t want her to even look at him most of the time. He felt too pathetic. Disgusting. A poor shell of the man that he’d promised his brother he’d become.

The man he’d convinced himself would come back home after the war and win the heart of the girl he’d loved from afar since childhood. The one who he’d barely spoken to, even as a regular at her place of employment. But when those striking emerald eyes did turn his way, he was lost. She’d send him a small, knowing smile, and be gone to clean another room before he could open his mouth for something stupid to fall out.

They’d known each other growing up. Him and Rose. Well, as much as Eric had known anyone in his childhood. The older he grew, the more the separation between himself and the rest of the world became obvious to him. His father had been the town drunk. Not the fun kind either. The kind that begged on the street for scraps that he could exchange for the worst alcohol known to man. A belligerent drunk who everyone avoided like he had the plague. Whose children had lice and reeked of the mildew that grew in their walls. Their mother had passed shortly after Eric was born, and Teddy. . .

Well Teddy was. . .

Everyone knew what Teddy was. It hadn’t always been that way. But after their father found out, he’d never stopped talking about it to anyone who’d listen. It was a miracle that no one had ever taken him seriously enough to act on it. It helped that Teddy was long gone by then. Already gone to fight a war with the rest of the boys.

Eventually, Eric grew old enough to join him. Got lucky enough even to be deployed to the same company as his older brother.

Lucky enough to watch him die.

“Eric?” A soft, melodic voice broke into his spiraling thoughts.

He looked up from the bubbles of his tankard to find Rose staring at him with a tilt to her head. A strange glint in those beautiful emerald eyes.

“Hullo.” Eric finally responded. Too late. His brain was fuzzy and still half on his brother’s pale, rotting corpse.

“Come on.” She tugged at him. Familiar. Like she’d done it many times before. “You’ve had enough. I’ll walk you home.”

“Why?”

She huffed in amusement. Her thin, pink lips curled upward. Fond. “Because I’d rather not find you dead in the street on my way into work tomorrow. Why else?”

“I’ve always gotten home just fine.” Eric didn’t know why he was arguing with her. He let himself be pulled to his feet regardless of his protests.

“Have you now?”

Eric nodded, certain. Though as she threaded her arm through his, as if he were the one being chivalrous rather than her supporting most of his weight, it occurred to him that he didn’t often recall how he returned back to his empty house. Only that he woke every morning in his bed. On his side, with his boots off and set neatly by the front door.

The winter air hit him like a punch in the face as Rose pulled him from the inn.

It sobered him up. He hadn’t had much that night. Not yet at least. He had some drinks stashed in his empty cupboards that he would raid once he was alone again. It had been years since he’d been this aware late at night. His steps became more confident as his mind cleared. He even remembered to watch for ice as they made their way down the pavement. Rose no longer supported his weight, but instead he was steady enough that she leaned into him. Likely just for warmth.

“How often have we done this?” He eventually got the courage to ask, as they approached his empty house.

Rose let out a soft laugh at that question. The giggle echoed out, like Christmas bells among the ice. “We do this every night, Eric. Or at least most.”

Despite the cold, Eric’s face heated up in a flash. Of course. His stomach sunk. He really was the new town drunk. Just like his father promised he would be.

“You seem. . .”

“Not quite as completely pissed as usual?” he finished for her. God he was pathetic.

“More yourself.” She laughed again.

“I don’t think I’m as pissed as you thought I was.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.” Rose agreed. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye as they slowly got closer to his garden gate. “I’m glad for it, though. I was—Well, I got off early tonight, and I was hoping. . .”

“Hoping?” Eric heard himself repeat. He didn’t let that same emotion grew in him. Not yet.

“Hoping I might catch you before you were too far gone.” They stopped walking. She turned into him, and traced the fold of the coat that he didn’t remember putting back on. “Hoping we might. . . talk?”

She tilted her head back to gaze up at him. An angel in the moonlight. Pale, with pink cheeks and bright emerald eyes. His dream come to life. She leaned up, as if asking for a kiss. His arms came around her without a thought. He leaned down and their lips met. She was so warm. So soft. Kissing her felt like coming home.

He never wanted to let her go.

***

1937

It felt like someone else held the brick. Like Eric had watched someone else wield it. Someone else had slammed the brick into his father’s head. Someone else caused all that blood to spread across their rotting floorboards. Caused his father to lie so still.

“Is he dead?” Eric heard someone ask Teddy.

Teddy, who cradled Eric to his chest. His blood ruined Eric’s already stained shirt. He shook with tremors. His breath wheezed with every inhale. Yet still, at Eric’s question, he lifted his head and turned it to the man who had—not five minutes earlier—been beating Teddy to death.

To death.

That’s what their father had said. He said he was going to beat Teddy until he was no longer queer. And the longer he went on, the clearer it was that Teddy would never be cured in their father’s eyes. That the solution that Robert Evans had in mind was death and death alone.

Murder.

Had Eric just murdered his pa?

“Teddy.” Eric dropped the brick. It fell to the floor with a dull crack of injured wood. His hands came up to fist into his brother’s shirt. Like he was still little. Like he wasn’t twelve. Practically a man.

They would hang him for this. Then the law would find out about Teddy and hang him too.

“It’s alright. Everything’s alright.” Teddy turned away from their father, and held Eric tighter. He pulled Eric’s head into his chest and kept him there as they began to rock softly. They fell to their knees together, though Eric wasn’t sure if it was him or Teddy who’d collapsed. “He’s breathing. He’s breathing. It’ll all be alright. Everything will be alright.”

Eric didn’t feel better. He should’ve been relieved that their father was alive. But instead, dread settled deep in his gut.

“What happens when he wakes up?” Eric voice was small.

It was a wonder that Teddy even heard him. But he did.

“Don’t think about that now. Just breathe with me, Eric? Breathe for me?”

Breathe? Why was Teddy asking Eric to breathe?

How could he breathe now? When his father was going to kill his brother? When his brother would never be safe in their already horrid home again? When the only thing left was for Teddy to leave and Eric didn’t know what he would do without him?

The edges of his vison grew dark. The sound of Teddy’s voice grew more distant.

“Breathe Eric. It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s over now. Just breathe? Please? Eric, breathe. It’s all going to be alright. It’s over now.”

It wasn’t over.

It would never be over.

Not until Eric was left all alone.

***

1977

When had Briar gotten so. . . big?

He was always a larger boy, like all the Evans men. Taller than his peers and with wider shoulders, but a bit of his mother’s slenderness that made him look that much more like Teddy. It was hard for Eric to tell the difference when he drank too much. He would wake, confused about how he clearly remembered talking to his brother the night prior. Only to realize that it had in fact been his son.

A shame that only led him back to the bottle.

After Rose died, the house was empty again. Petunia hadn't been around much, and when she had returned at night, she had looked at him like he disgusted her. He didn’t blame her. He would just grab himself another beer and fall into his armchair. Because what else was there to do? The twins were away most of the year. When they were back, Eric promised himself every night that he would pull himself together for them. That this time, he could do it. Then the next day came, and he was drinking again before he could remember his false promises the night prior. Lily would sit with him, sometimes. Talk to him about magic and typical drama of a teenage girl. Her voice was closer to her mother’s than Petunia’s was.

Then Petunia had left. And the house was even emptier than before.

The twins away at a castle that Eric was half convinced was all in his head most of the time.

In the quiet of the empty house, all Eric could do was grieve Rose. There was no Petunia that would come home and yell, or pull him into bed. No Lily to chatter to him mindlessly. No Briar to mistake for Teddy.

And all Eric could see was Rose’s absence.

It hurt in a way that he wasn’t aware he could hurt. After everything. The loss of his career. The war. His brother’s death. His father’s shame.

It was his love’s death that had truly broken him.

Without a single soul by his side, and no desire to leave the house outside of necessary trips to the store for more alcohol and some canned soup, the days blurred together. He kept the curtains closed but to let Briar’s tiny owl in, and spent his hours staring at Rose’s peeling wallpaper. He didn’t even bother to turn on the tele any longer. The sound of his grief was already overwhelming enough as was.

Nothing changed.

One day—night?—he woke and stood. There was a smell. Something rotting. As he approached, the kitchen sink erupted in fruit flies.

He curled his lip in disgust.

And began to clean.

***

1960

Eric was self aware enough to admit that he was scared of babies. Not that he would say it aloud. Petunia had been an awful baby. She’d kept Rose and Eric up so long that Eric was sent home for falling asleep on his feet while on the work-floor. When they’d found out about the twins, Eric had been absolutely terrified.

Babies were just so. . . small. Delicate. Tiny.

He was sure he would break them.

But the first time he held his son in his arms, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give the babe back to his mother. Briar fit so perfectly into the nock of Eric’s elbow. His newborn face was all scrunched up in his sleep. His curled, wrinkled fist rested against his cheek.

“He looks a lot like your brother.” Rose peered over Eric’s shoulder, Lily asleep in her arms. “Don’t you think?”

“I reckon you’re right.” Eric smiled, joy bloomed inside him at the thought. “Teddy would be all over them, you know. All three of them. He loved babies. Raised me himself, you know? Pa didn’t care about me none. Probably would’ve left me out to die, if Teddy hadn’t been there.”

“I remember.” Rose said softly. “He seemed so big when we were young. I thought he was so much older back then. But now, all I can think is that he was just a child too.”

“Of course.” Eric agreed.

But it hadn’t fully sunk in yet. Not until she’d said it. Even after all this time he’d never really thought of it that way.

The grief was a familiar ache.

Teddy had been a child. Even when he’d been sent to war, he’d still been a child. Just like Eric had been.

With his free hand, Eric reached out and brushed the red curls that they shared off his son’s forehead. The newborn stirred. Small, troubled noises followed. Eric’s head whipped up to his wife in panic. But she didn’t have sympathy for him. She smiled, amused. Then pointedly rocked Lily and shushed the already sleeping baby.

Eric glanced back at Briar, who was rapidly stirring now, and attempted to do the same. It was clumsy. Yet still the infant calmed. Eric thought he’d gone back to sleep. Until Briar’s eyes blinked open, lazy as a hibernating bear. Dark, but with a shade that hinted towards green. Eric braced for a cry, but it never came. He stared into his son’s eyes. His son stared back.

He wanted to promise Briar that no war would ever come to take him away and no one would ever hurt him. That as his father, Eric would always protect him in all things. But that wasn’t how the world worked. Eric had no control over king and country.

There was only one thing that Eric could promise Briar.

He thought of the men he’d killed, and the men who’d almost killed him. He thought of his brother’s tears of joy at his unbroken love when they’d met on the warfront, and those hushed conversations they’d shared late at night. He thought of all he did during the war, and of all the things his father had said to him when he returned. He thought of Teddy, held down as their pa slammed fist after fist into his skull. He thought of his father, bleeding on the floorboards from the brick that Eric had smashed into his head. He thought about schoolboy crushes on a petite blonde girl with piercing emerald eyes. He thought of his earliest memory, Teddy telling him about their mother.

My son, he prayed silently to Briar, childishly not wanting Rose to overhear.  I will always love you. No matter who you grow to become, or what you do, or who you love, I will be here, and you will be mine and I yours. Nothing will ever break my love for you. Though I may have many weaknesses, you will never be one of them. You will be my pride, my legacy, my son.