#mprewett

December, 1979; Order Headquarters

"Here, place this on the table." Molly called out, bustling about the cramped kitchen with a quick wave of her wand, flurries of magic stirring food inside pots that lined the stove, the scent of fresh bread in the oven filling the Headquarters. If there was anything to cheer the Order up during the long, seemingly endless winter, it was Molly Weasley’s cooking.

"Of course, Molly." Mary replied, taking the platter handed to her and moving to set it amongst the already filled table as members of the Order stood in clusters, laughing over wine and smiling for what felt like the first time in ages.

Turning the corner with his head lowered, the witch didn’t notice Remus approaching, the two nearly colliding as the tray of food wobbled in her hand, tilting slightly before the werewolf hastily steadied it, letting out a comical sigh of relief as an apology slipped out from his lips.

"Did you make those?" Remus inquired with a tilt of his head and a smile, reaching out a thin hand and selecting a particularly colorful biscuit from the stack, covered in red frosting for the holidays. He popped the treat into his mouth in one easy motion, the cookie crumbling and leaving traces of frosting on the edges of his lips as he did so.

"I wish." Mary smiled, readjusting the platter in her hands. "It was Molly, of course." She added with a shake of his head, gesturing to the redheaded woman who was nothing more than a blur, hurrying about from the kettle to the stove where she was pulling out another rack of food.

Tilting her head slightly, Mary reached her hand up to her mouth after a moment’s hesitation, gesturing to the area as she continued, trying and failing to keep an amused expression from her lips.

"You’ve got a little.."

"Oh, bugger." He laughed, reaching up and brushing at the wrong side of his lips with the edge of his hand. "Is it gone?"

"No," The witch replied, a small laugh escaping from her lips. "Other side."

Hastily, the werewolf rubbed at the other end of his lips, not particularly fond of walking around and wearing what must look oddly like lipstick. He had had his fair share of embarrassment from pranks like that back in Hogwarts, and liked to think that everyone had matured since then.

"Merlin, it’s right there." Mary called out, her accent emphasizing the humor in the phrase as she reached out with a finger, brushing the frosting away easily with a laugh.

"Pucker up, Moons." A voice called out from behind them, a flash of black hair and a grin emerging from the other room. "By all means, don’t let me interrupt."

At this, the werewolf’s face had flushed nearly as red as the frosting on the cookies as he whirled around, an exasperated expression clear as both Mary and James erupted into matching grins.