Police and thieves in the streets (oh yeah)
Scaring the nation with their guns and ammunition,
Police and thieves in the street (oh yeah)
Fighting the nation with their guns and ammunition.
From genesis to revelation,
The next generation will be, hear me
From genesis to revelation,
The next generation will be, hear me,
And all the crowd come in, day by day
And no one stops it in anyway
All the peacemaker, turn war officer
Hear what I say.
While Mary and Remus sat on the cosy couch in the little Soho flat, curtains drawn over the dark windows, fireplace crackling, Sirius, Lily and James were in mortal peril.
This passed for a normal Friday night, in those days. By now everyone had developed a fatalistic attitude to life, and a kind of gallows humour. “See you, later,” Sirius would say, leaving the house, “If I make it.”
“Meet you at home,” James would tell Lily, “If it’s still there!”
It helped everyone get through it, at the time - after all, if you said the worst thing out loud, it couldn't hurt as much, could it? The thought tortured Remus for a long time after the war was over.
They were only supposed to be on a routine patrol - in Diagon Alley, which made Remus feel better because it was so close by. There were three of them, and they would be checking in with a senior Order member at the start and finish, so it should have been business as usual. In fact, Mary was about to leave Remus and go home for the night - when there was a hammering on the door.
They both jumped, and Mary let out a strange squeak of terror. Then the door began to open, and they both stood, wands raised, Remus covering as much of Mary as he could.
“Help!” A muffled voice came, and Sirius and Lily pushed their way into the flat, James’s limp form sagging between them, an arm over each of their shoulders.
“Christ!” Remus started forward to help, and between them all they got him onto the couch. “What happened?!”
“Remus,” Mary choked, her wand still raised, hand trembling, “The questions…”
“Right, fuck, ok, um…” His mind was racing, he couldn’t stop staring at James’s face, pallid and waxy, gleaming with sweat. He looked at Lily, “What did… um.. Who…?”
“Lily, who was your first kiss?” Mary stepped in, quickly.
“Dirk Cresswell.” Lily said, promptly. Sirius and Remus both gave her a funny look, but there was no time to make a fuss.
“Sirius,” Mary said, redirecting her wand, “Same question.”
“I don't know!” Sirius said, exasperated, pulling away James’s robes - there wasn’t any blood, but James’s eyes were closed, the lids deep purple, “One of you go and get McKinnon!”
“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Mary rounded on him, “Answer the bloody question, Black!”
“I can’t, I really don’t know! It was some muggle girl in a cinema! Moony, tell her!”
“He’s telling the truth,” Remus said, his throat dry, “He is, we got into a fight over it. I punched him.”
“Punched you back,” Sirius muttered, scanning James with his wand. “Get Marlene?! Please!”
