the cadence of part time poets

Chapter 87: The Anti-Valentine's Day

You're a rich girl, and you've gone too far,
'Cause you know it don't matter anyway;
You can rely on the old man's money,
You can rely on the old man's money;

It's a bitch girl but it's gone too far,
'Cause you know it don't matter anyway;
Say money, but it won't get you too far,
Get you too far...

- "Rich Girl" Hall & Oates, 1977

Not long after the trip into Craigtyre, Remus told Marlene everything. About Lily and James, how they'd taken the news and the wonderful way they'd accepted it without question. A part of him had been almost afraid to tell her; he'd wrapped up his story with the assurance that there was no need for her to do the same, and that neither he nor Sirius had told them anything about her and Nicole.

Afterwards Marlene was quiet for a long time. Remus sat quietly too, waiting for her to process it all, and eventually he felt the gentle nudge of Marlene's pinky finger against his own.

"Tell me again?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Tell me again what they said?"

He did.

* * *

Friday 10th February 1978

Sometimes it was easy for Remus to believe they could be a real band someday.

" 'She's soft as butter, call me a nutter'?" Sirius glanced up from the notebook with an incredulous look. "Really, mate?"

James nodded enthusiastically. "It's a metaphor."

And sometimes... less easy.

It was near the end of their music period, final class of the day, and amidst the clamour of twenty other students all practising, the four Marauders had sequestered themselves in their usual spot near the back of the room, all surrounding Peter's drum kit. Sirius had taken James' notebook and was flipping through it, looking for potential material, though so far little had been found. Sufficiently amused, Peter reached over and took the notebook, eyes scanning the page as he laughed.

"You call her 'sweet as sugar' in the next verse. What, are you baking a cake?"

"I said it's a metaphor!" James snapped.

"For what?"

"Her voice, duh!"

"And the butter?" Sirius asked. "What's that supposed to signify?"

"Her... body! You know, like butter-soft skin! Lily's got great skin."

"Yeah, so great she'd likely skin you alive the moment you read it to her."

James snatched his notebook back from Peter and reached over to smack Sirius over the head with it. "I'm bloody trying my best here. Valentine's is next week and Moony's been no help at all."

"I refuse to be the Pete Townshend of Marauders," Remus said staunchly, sitting a few seats away and flicking lazily at his bass.

"Do either of you know what he's saying?" James snarked. "I never have any idea what he's saying."

"He means he's not gonna write all the songs, which he doesn't. Check this." Sirius tossed a paper ball at Remus' head, which he caught out of the air and unfolded, shooting Sirius a coltish smile before glancing down at the page.

Pretty darling, spiteful darling,
You're cutting my cords, pulling my strings;
Pretty honey, spiteful honey,
You're twisting my words, stealing my rings;

Why won't you love me?
Why can't you be true?
Spiteful darling, I swore I'd come through.

"Any good?" Sirius asked.