Chapter Text
September 1976, Oxford Street, London , After Midnight
When he saw her, the smoky air stunk of booze, sweat, piss, and a bit of sex. The rowdy crowd couldn’t obscure that flaming red hair and posh demeanor as she stood in the middle of muggle junkies and clueless rebels that should’ve been to bed hours ago. She stuck out painfully, a calm flame amidst a boiling sea. And she wore a wool jumper complete with a green scarf and knitted cap, despite the fact that it felt like 38 degrees in the club.
“Evans,” shouted Sirius Black as he held out a pint to her. Loud music vibrated throughout the pub, making it nearly impossible to hear anything, even his own thoughts. But Lily Evans heard, and she eyed him a moment, then the drink, and then she met his gaze again.
“What’s in it?” she asked, carefully taking the pint from him and making a face as some sloshed over the rim onto the sleeve of her jumper.
“Does it matter? It all tastes like piss.” He took a large gulp from his own goblet. Muggle drinks didn’t pack the same bite of those from the Three Broomsticks or even the Leaky Caluldron. Yet, the Gryffindor in him often partook in Muggle culture. Life was a constant Slytherin bore, otherwise.
Sirius bobbed his head to the blaring, angry music while he stood with Lily. She took small, polite sips of her drink, each time scrunching up her nose. He hid his grin in his own drink.
“It’s way past your bedtime, I wager,” he said. If he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes, he never would have believed that Lily Evans, Hogwarts’s goody goody gumdrop, had attended a punk, anarchist concert in the middle of the night - well, early morning now, more like - on a school night. “Shouldn’t you be studying, or out making yourself a better magical citizen?”
Lily, trying not to gag on her drink, held up her finger at him. “Har har. Clever one, aren’t you.” She paused, swallowing her latest sip. “If you must know, I love this music.”
“You like Sex Pistols?” drawled Sirius, tilting his head. He gave her an unconvinced smile. “And Siouxsie and the Banshees, and The Clash?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Lily nodded, but she didn’t have that spark of recognition in her eyes while she tried to bob to the music in time to the beat. She was failing hard, and damn it if it wasn’t the saddest and funniest shit Sirius had ever seen. “I quite like them.”
“I bet on your first born's life that you don’t.”
“This is my world, Black . I’d know Muggle music better than you any time, any day.” She had the audacity to sound indignant. Sirius held back a taunting laugh.
“You know fuck-all about this scene, Evans. Stick to your potions and classicals.”
Her freckled face flamed bright red, nearly matching her hair. Sirius decided to drop the subject for now, but eventually he’d get it out of her as to why she was there. She hated this kind of thing. She’d told him every time she’d walked into the common room while his records were playing. James, Sirius had no doubt, enjoyed his music. Lily, however, stuck up her nose at it every chance she got.
“Don’t you have a date with Snivellus?” he asked, casual, while he took out a cigarette and lit it with his favorite Muggle lighter, one he’d bummed off of a junkie at the last gig he’d been to.
“Don’t call him that!” Lily spoke with such force that the blue flame in his hand went out before he could light the damn cig. “...and he’s my friend. But we haven’t spoken in a while. Since, you know-”
“Since he called you a ‘filthy Mudblood’?” Sirius said it without hesitation, even as Lily flinched. He wouldn’t apologize for the truth. Snivellus Snape was - is - a massive twat. And everyone had known it but Lily, until recently.
“Right. Since that.” Lily’s lips thinned into a tight line, and she looked away.
Shit.
“Give it here,” he said as he took the pint away from her, handing her his empty goblet. Then he downed her drink so she wouldn’t have to suffer through it. She hadn’t even made it halfway. “You know, you could’ve put a little more effort into blending in.” While the drunken crowd had spikey, shaved hair, black, ripped clothes, and no regard for personal space, Lily had come dressed in a fancy overcoat, her hair donned with a green knitted cap that matched her scarf. “This isn’t a fashion show.”
Little Miss Fashion Show gave him a sweet, sunny smile as she flipped him the bird. Sirius smiled back wickedly, amused. They could dance this dance all night, though, if that’s what she wanted, since it wasn’t likely she’d spill the reason why she’d decided to bum it with punk junkies that night.
A joint made its way around the pub, and Sirius snatched it quick before everyone else burned it down to the roach. He took a long drag, then offered it to Lily. Without fail, she wrinkled her nose at him.
“Come on, Evans. Live a little,” Sirius nudged her with his hand, then took another drag before it went out. “You’re already here.” Then he paused, grinning again. “Unless you’re afraid your James won’t think you’re a good girl any longer.”
That brought out the fire in her eyes he knew all too well. She took the joint with a huff.
“He’s not my keeper, Black. He’s barely even a passing acquaintance,” she murmured. Then she frowned when she tried to take a puff and nothing happened. Sirius laughed.
“You waited too long. Here-” He took her hand, the one clutching the joint, and lit the end with his lighter. “Quickly now.”
Lily was a little too quick about it, and in a few moments she was coughing hard enough that her eyes watered madly. Sirius laughed again and stole the joint from her.
“Now that was just sad, Evans,” he chided even as she struggled to catch her breath. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out of the pub and onto the street where she could get some fresh air - well, relatively fresh, fresher than what they’d been breathing inside.
As soon as Lily could breathe again, Sirius lit the joint one more time. “Let’s try this - breathe in when I breathe out.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” She blinked rapidly, frowning again.
“Just do it, Evans,” Sirius said in a soft voice.
He took another burning hit, then leaned in close to her. She gave him a wary look but didn’t stop him or back away as he coaxed her lips open with his own, giving her the smoke. It must have lasted a second, maybe two, but Sirius could’ve sworn the earth stopped spinning, the crowds disappeared, and the stars shined brighter for a tiny eternity.
Or it could’ve been the high taking hold.
Lily’s eyes must’ve closed during the exchange, for they opened as she pulled back from him, eyes no longer watering. “...it didn’t burn that time,” she said, clearing her throat.
“Want another go?” Sirius asked with another wicked grin. Lily rolled her eyes at him.
“Not likely, Black.”
Sirius passed the joint to a nearby bird, then leaned against the streetlamp they’d stood under. He studied Lily, who’d gone quiet and looked everywhere but at him. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be there drinking or smoking or missing Hogwarts curfew.
“Evans,” he said.
“Black,” she replied, eyes trained on her shoes.
“Evans.”
Silence. A long pause. The music continued to blare from the open door to the pub. Sirius could smell the smoke, the piss, the sweat, and even a bit of the sex. But his eyes remained on Lily, who’d wrapped her arms around herself as the cold seeped in.
Then she spoke. Just four easy words not easily said:
“My mum died today.”