A/N: Bonjour! I'd like to say first of all that I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the things you recognize. What you don't… 'tis mine. Hope you enjoy it, and please, leave me a review when you're done.

And a warning. This fic is not How Many Bullets. I was in ninth grade when I started that, and I'm almost out of high school now. This fic is a completely different beast. It's dark, it's angsty… It's violent and disgusting, or it will be. If you object, don't read it. If you read it, please don't flame me. And don't say I didn't warn you.

Bon Appetit.

.y.g.e.

It was a beautiful summer day at Godric's Hollow. The sun was shining, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of ancient oak trees as the occasional cloud passed overhead. On the ground, in the Potters' driveway, at least a dozen people were moving boxes into the house, filled with whatever possessions they had left. War had ravaged the wizarding world for years now, taking lives and possessions and love. It had destroyed many, and in order to survive, you had to be strong, or at least tell yourself that you were. And so everyone kept going, moving whatever they had left after Voldemort ripped their lives apart.

One lone figure sat on the roof sixty feet above the group, perched above the tower room, staring down, watching them laugh and gossip and argue. His name was James Potter, he was twenty years old, and he was shirtless. He had been sitting on the roof for three hours now, and it was only nine o'clock in the morning. Perhaps he was avoiding the work down below, or avoiding someone else, or maybe he was just thinking.

Whatever the case, James was joined shortly by another figure – this one was taller, paler, just as muscular. Sirius Black was easily distinguishable by his piercing grey eyes and black hair. He carried a plate with toast on it in one hand, and a joint in the other.

"Hey Sirius," James said as the other boy handed him the plate.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry," came the stubborn reply.

"Alright, if you don't want it, I'll take it. But don't come crying to me later about how you didn't eat breakfast," Sirius said, as James took the marijuana in exchange for the plate. He lit it, taking in a drag.

"I thought you said you quit that."

"Who do you think you are, my mother?" James retorted angrily, blowing smoke in Black's direction.

"I know what she would say…"

"I don't care what she would say. I'm twenty years old – I don't need her running my life. Besides, you're the one who keeps bringing it into the house."

James took another drag, as Sirius asked, "This isn't about Lily, is it?" The Potter boy lost his cool, coughing everything he had just inhaled back up. Two years earlier, James Potter and Lily Evans had been an item. He had proposed shortly before they left Hogwarts. She had turned down his offer and broken up with him. He had gone out and slept with a bunch of other girls in an attempt to recover, had a bout where he smoked all day, done all sorts of stupid things. Nothing worked. James Potter had determined that Lily was impossible to forget, and he hated her for it. "Knew it," Sirius continued, taking the drug from James.

"I don't want to hear it," James snapped, looking off at the other side of the roof. "Especially since you're not over Kim."

"Kim's dead! It's completely different!" Sirius growled dangerously, eyes flashing with anger.

"And that somehow means I loved Lily less?! Please."

There was a long silence, as the minutes seemed to crawl by. Sirius was looking at his feet, as they passed the drug back and forth, until James finally dropped it off the roof, extinguished. "It's nice of your parents to let the Order work here for a while," Black said finally, in an effort to break the silence.

"Well, you know they'd do anything for Dumbledore," James replied, lying back onto the hot shingles. "Do you know how many people are staying here? I mean, I know Remus is moving in, and I'm sure Grace is coming with him… Anybody hot?"

"I'm hot," Sirius replied, smirking as James gave him a look. "I'm supposed to see Dumbledore about something, though. Don't stay out here too long, or your mother's going to start asking questions." The two climbed off the roof, slipping downstairs, where they were quickly put to work carrying boxes to various rooms of the house.

.y.g.e.

James opened his door again later that day, his hair, still wet from a shower, falling into his eyes. He was wearing an old pair of jeans, along with an old grey shirt that read 'Property of Gryffindor Quidditch' across the front, with mud spatters up the back. Whatever he expected to see as he left his bedroom, it wasn't what greeted him.

She was still beautiful – it almost came as a shock, though it shouldn't have. He had always know that she would only get better-looking, and land guys that were better than him – guys that actually deserved her. She had the same eyes, though her blazing red hair was longer, falling to the middle of her back. Her sundress was shorter than anything she had worn back at Hogwarts, and it exposed her pale, perfect legs.

'Merlin,' the redhead thought, biting his lip. He had grown up. He was gorgeous. He must have grown an inch since school ended, and he was obviously quite muscular. His eyes hadn't changed either… Honest, shrewd, angry… That certainly hadn't been there before.

She pushed past him, continuing down the hall before either of them could utter a word, as he caught her wrist in one hand. "Let go," she whispered, yanking the limb away. He didn't let go.

"No."

"Let go," she warned again. "I'll scream."

"I'm sure you will," he replied coolly, pulling the girl – no, woman – towards him. "I want answers."

"What's to answer? We have nothing to discuss," she replied, wishing he wasn't quite so close. Her eyes had traveled away from him, to rest on the photograph of a very young James with his father that was framed on the wall.

"We have plenty to discuss," he snapped back, pushing her against the opposite wall, as she slapped him.

Lily smiled, satisfied with the pop that rang out as her hand collided with his face, and with the small cry that issued from his mouth as he grabbed her other hand, and pinned both her wrists above her head.

"Why'd you break up with me?"

She had expected this question… She wasn't going to answer it, though. She couldn't have, not with him this close, his hot hands pressed against her cool ones. "No!" she shouted, as he released her arms, pressing his lips to her forehead, then her nose, then a cheek. Her arms slid around him, under the ratty shirt he wore, feeling the scars that had appeared there seemingly overnight, as his lips brushed lightly against the hollow in her neck.

And then a voice from a few meters away. "James?" Potter pulled back, releasing her, as Lily turned a shade of pink that could have put any turnip to shame, disappearing down the hallway. How could she have let him do that? They had barely seen each other five minutes, and already, he had managed to melt away her resolve to hate him. Well, it wouldn't happen again – she would be immune to all his charm and warmth and words. And she slammed her door behind her, just to let him know she still hated him.

After a moment, James towards back towards Sirius Black, trembling. "What's up?"

"Come downstairs. There's a girl there," Black replied.

"I'm not interested."

"Not for you, stupid. For me," Black said, already devising how he would convince her to sleep with him.

"Alright," James replied, rolling his eyes as they walked downstairs, leaving through the French doors at the back to stroll through the garden.

"Are you high?"

"No, why?"

"You're shaking." Then, Sirius left James behind, approaching the brunette staring into the small pond from ten feet away. She was tall, reaching a height of 5 foot eight, a good match for Sirius' six feet two inches. Her brunette hair formed waves down her back, stopping just short of slim hips that met mile-long legs. Definitely Sirius' type – thin, pretty, brown eyes… James turned away, grinning as he went back to the house. Sirius obviously had never met Marlene McKinnon if he thought she would sleep with him.

"Hello," Sirius said softly, grinning as she jumped. "I take it you'll be staying here for a while?"

"Yes," Marlene replied, still staring into the lake. Abruptly, she remembered her manners, offering him a hand, which he took firmly. "Marlene McKinnon."

"Sirius Black," he replied, eying the rather low-cut red dress she was wearing.

"My face is up here, you know."

"Yes, but that dress would look so good on my floor."

She slapped him, hard, and pushed him into the pond as she stalked away past Black, towards the house.

"Wait, wait," Sirius said, hurrying to catch up with her, cursing the fact that the bottoms of his pant legs were now soaked. He had cursed himself for looking at her earlier, the same way he had looked at Kim McCracken two years ago. She was beautiful, and she was too good for him, and the worst thing was, she knew it. And the only way to get a girl like that out of your system was to sleep with her and tell yourself you'd had better. And it looked like this simply wasn't going to happen, without a little coaxing. "I've got a proposition for you. You give me a second chance, and I'll cook dinner for you. And I can promise you the food won't be bad."

Marlene glanced towards Remus, who was now standing on the porch with them, who glanced between the two, trying to decide whether or not he should tell the truth. After Sirius folded his hands as if he was praying, Moony nodded, and Marlene turned back towards Black, who was now staring at the floor.

"Fine, but it better be good."

He leaned in close. "Don't worry. I'm good at everything I do."

"I might have bought that if your breath didn't smell like onions," she countered, determined to have the last word. She did – Sirius was too busy glaring at Remus (who was laughing hysterically) to respond.

.y.g.e.

A/N: hope you liked it… hope the characters are strong enough for you. Review for me, s'il vous plait. Merci.