Chapter 43

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"Merlin, you look gorgeous."

Liza grinned into Sirius's kiss as he pulled her into his arms. "As do you. If a bit Muggle."

As they parted, she tugged at the corners of his leather jacket. On his right shoulder, a silver chain draped over the top of his chest. The pockets were scuffed just enough to indicate its wear.

"Effie got it for me from a shop in London." Sirius spun around, striking a regal pose as he placed one arm behind his back. "Will you accompany this rebel to the dance floor?"

Liza accepted his hand, allowing him to pull her inside the doors of the Potter Manor. She tried not to appear too shocked as they passed through the entrance.

She had known that James came from old money, but she had not imagined the stretch of marble tile that ran in a path from the main doors, bordered by emerald trapezoids. A chandelier the size of her bedroom erupted from the top of the ceiling, which had been painted with images of chubby babies flying through the sky.

"Are those supposed to be some sort of magical beast?" Wracking her brain for memories of Care of Magical Creatures, Liza tried to get a better look at the winged babies.

"Nah, some muggle thing." Sirius pulled her between two flights of stairs, the marble bannisters the width of his arms. "Prongs went to Italy and returned with all sorts of strange ideas. Rather ugly, although it's best not to mention it." Catching Liza's questioning glance, he grinned. "Moony had a pair of antlers for a week. Barely slept a minute."

Wincing at the image, Liza pulled on the edge of her scarlet dress. James was descended from a long line of Gryffindors, and she had assumed that it would be best to opt for red. Unfortunately, the only article of clothing she had managed to salvage from her closet was a size too small. There had been little time for tailoring charms.

"I'll never understand—" Liza swallowed and discretely ducked behind Sirius as they entered the ballroom. Outside of the Great Hall, she had never seen so many people in one place. Clusters of high-class wizards and witches huddled together cheerfully. A glass of alcohol glinted in nearly every hand. Some bubbled with champagne, others brimmed with Firewhiskey.

"One reason the Potter's parties are famous," Sirius leaned over to murmur in her ear. The familiar scent of pine and whiskey hit her nostrils and Liza relaxed into his touch. "They're generous with the booze. A quarter of the people here just show up to get pissed."

Humming in acknowledgement, Liza accepted a drink from a nearby server. "Is it really enjoyable for James's parents? Not sure I would want to invite everyone, knowing they just wanted to get sloshed."

Sirius shrugged. "Fleamont says he will do whatever to make Euphemia happy. Even if it means hiring a few extra house elves to clean the bathrooms. Not that they accept any pay for the extra work."

The Gryffindor navigated the crowd easily. Liza supposed that he had been born into it. Sirius was the face of the Black family. Or had been.

With confident posture and a bright grin, Sirius appeared just mischievous enough to charm the ladies and cause the gentlemen to pull their dates closer.

Liza elbowed him in the side. "You do have a girl—" she broke off awkwardly. "A date, you know." Taking a long sip of champagne, she pretended not to notice her slip up.

"Aw, Lizzie," Sirius's arm snaked about her waist, pulling her closer. "I'm only trying to ruffle Willyfoot's feathers. Been making snide comments behind my back for years."

Liza followed the tilt of his chin towards a portly older wizard in a sapphire robe. Beneath his chin was a checkered bow tie that clashed terribly with the rest of his attire. On his left elbow was a pretty, but much younger wife that was clearly sending Sirius admiring glances beneath her eyelashes.

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