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"You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers! Inseparable!"

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My Fine Fellow! It sounds like a terrifying existence that you have as of now - how do you pull birds with a chaperone like your radiator handy? I'll be sure to mention your imminent arrival - or not, surprise'll do her the world of good, I'm sure. The one next door- oh, the Fawcett's oldest- nice eye old chap, she's pretty smoking. Nothing on Evans of course, but I'll be sure to relay the message. It does explain the constant influx of lovesick owls though... - Prongs.

Matey,

Simply horrifying. Don't know how I'm going to manage the next few days all on my lonesome out in the big scary world out here. Might just drown myself in a tin of Campbell's chicken soup tonight. What can I say, Jimmy, someone's got to keep an eye out for good-looking birds while you're fawning over our illustrious ginger housemate. 

Still doing Sunday Roasts, right? Might have to make a dramatic entrance and claim a chicken leg.

~Pads the Tampon

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[He'd drawn up a list, of course. Only mentally, naturally, but it had been there. Reasons to leave (living had featured rather prominently on that one) and reasons to stay. That one had been trickier to manage. And there'd been ideas. Perhaps he'd wait until he was seventeen, inherited enough of Uncle Alphard's Gringotts vault and then cart Regulus along with him. He'd only been fourteen then. The world seemed far easier to maneuver. Or perhaps it had just been that in a fit of childish cockyness he'd been sure he could manage whatever came at him. At sixteen though... those plans had been thrown out the window. And soon, he'd been able to pretend that most his life at Grimauld Place had been long forgotten. That hardly meant he had though.Hardly meant he ever could. In that, the one thing he knew for certain? There was bound to be someone, somewhere who would happily report what they'd witnessed here amongst the crowd of jabbering shoppers.Flexing his jaw, he nodded at the package at his feet, muttering the words out through gritted teeth.] Can't bloody leave that here. Someone'll see. Just... take it. [lifting his head to meet the younger boy's eyes briefly, before continuing in a low mutter] I'd say you should probably punch me for show, but 'reckon that'd grab a bit too much attention.... 

[The sound of the teeming crowd around them sounds farther away than it should, even once he’s at a far enough distance away to close his eyes, release a single breath, and run a hand down the length of his face as if he’s wiping away the entire confrontation to begin with. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be and he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand a lot of things — the whole Death Eater thing was a full skeptical in itself, but adding in the cold shoulder Sirius had been giving him sine long before he joined the ranks of Bella and Lucius Malfoy and the unexpected feeling that he is now more alone than he’s been before, Regulus isn’t quite sure what to do. Sure, he’d agreed with everything his parents had been feeding him, but that was only because he’d been trying to lessen the alarming amount of violence in the house— and in order to do that, he apparently had to put himself further in a spotlight he’d never wanted to begin with. So much for thinking all those years that’d he’d just finish school and become a professional Quidditch player.] Wha— [The yell catches him off guard to say the least, freezing in mid-step to come to a standstill. What is it now? Turning back around slowly, he almost wills himself not to walk back. The keyword being almost, because a few more retracing steps and he’s back to standing in front of the same kid who’s made it painfully honest that he wants nothing to do with him.] …Yes?

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'Course. Minnie'd love it of course. Finally can spot us all properly in crowded corridors. Give us an extra five inches of height... More of a surprise that we didn't think of it earlier, really. [His face scrunching in an over exerted expression of discomfort, that fades as soon as Remus' question is asked, raising an eyebrow.] Course I didn't. Was deserted. Left alone on the ground. Granted, the copper might have only been standing a few feet away from it, but I was simply doing my civic duty by picking it up. Not so much in keeping it for myself of course, but hey, you win some and lose some, right?

Ah, yes. That’s all we’ve been missing. Matching outfits. That’ll really draw the stares proper. -Remus remarks, expression attempting a deadpan sort of seriousness, but failing. He taps the visor of Sirius��� helmet, pushing it farther over his  friend’s forehead- Where’d you get this from anyways, mate. Ya’ didn’t nick it, did you?

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'Course she wouldn't. That kind of violence just... [bringing his hand up to his forehead in an absurd impersonation of a woman swooning in some long ancient muggle film] ...well it just doesn't bear thinking of. Wouldn't be able to cope with it. Be real heartbreaking stuff. Oi. What the bloody hell do you think happens? Share a bloody room with him for most of the year. 'Course I get harassed by him. I'm just sensible enough to know it's one the highest honours, along with Moony sharing a bit of chocolate with you. Girl needs to get her head screwed on straight.

Built in knob-meters. Sounds terrifying. Little alarms ring in your ears when you get too close to a knob then? Can you hear it ticking away? [a good natured chortle faltering his serious expression at her stare. There's no point in even attempting to look insulted of course] Didn't I? Funny that. Jimmy must have told me all about it after I downed that bottle of Firewhiskey then. Some kind of tale to get the fifth years gossip going once we get back, eh? Orrr [rapping his first on the top of the helmet] Jimbo and I met a nice old berk who felt the need to tell us we needed helmets.... so I just took his. 

Well she’s never kicked me in th’shin, so obviously I wouldn’t know, Black. [She sticks her tongue out at him.] But if it was off, then y’could actually do yer job instead of making all those snarky comments, huh? [Her eyes roll around as Sirius begins to imagining one of her friends eating Dungbombs for breakfast. He probably doesn’t think Lily’s serious, but oh, she is.] You try being harrassed by that wanker for seven years. It does…things t’you. God, I remember when little Lillard was just an innocent ickle firs’year…so sweet, so shy…and then James locked eyes on her and her world turned upside down. D’you know how to put a bloody leash on him, or d’you enjoy cleaning up his drool when she walks past? 

Aaand that’s why I am glad I’m a girl. We have built in knob-meters, y’know; or, well, the more fortunate of us do. Some blithering idiots still end up with the likes of…[She gives him a harmless mocking stare down before coughing and returning to normal.] Nevermind! [The hat suddenly feels heavier in her hands, and she grins up at Sirius mischeviously.] Fuck no—y’didn’t steal it from a bloody muggle cop. Yer gonna get yer arse locked behind those silly metal bars—wankers, as if metal’s gonna keep a wizard from escapin’. But anyways, when the bloody hell did you do it? 

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When I was that little? Pah. Impossible Mum. Never been little. Not even once. You must be getting old. Memory's going foggy or something. That of you're thinking of someone else. I've never been that titchy. [Shaking his head with such solemn severity that of course it must be fact. Naturally, he's just been six foot two since birth.] Ah, nonsense. We're keeping Minnie young. She loves us really. Keeping her on her toes and the like.

Public nuisances? Us? Wounding words there. We'd never make a nuisance of ourselves. Its a well known fact that the public universally adores us. Perhaps m'dearest mummy. Perhaps we were, but then again perhaps we weren't and were purely victims of police corruption based entirely on our dashing good looks and their unsurprising jealousy.

The firsties aren’t that bad, honestly. They’re just… very excitable. You were too, when you were that little, I’m sure you can somewhat recall. The point of school? In most people’s cases, I’d say it had to do with good grades, friends - in your’s, I’d say it’s the aggravation of our esteemed Deputy Head and the drive to put more grey hairs on her head.

To be quite honest, I wouldn’t put any of those past you - but my thoughts were more along the lines of public nuisances. Wait - you got a bike? And were riding it without helmets? Yeah, I’m going to be gray before I’m twenty, and dead of a heart attack ‘fore twenty-five, the rate you lot’re going.

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Sounds horrible, love. Can't you just... universally forget everything but what you'll be teaching? Happily forget everything about Goblin Wars and which part of a flobberworm is best for potions? What I plan on doing anyway. Forget all the boring bits as soon as N.E.W.Ts are done. Open up some brain space for the important things like... well, the important things. [With a shrug. Most of the "important things" he figured weren't the things you should be aloud in the middle of a crowded shopping day. For perhaps one of the first times in his life, Sirius Black was biting his tongue]

[Septima shook her head in amusement and laughed at the younger boy, she could almost see why he had admirers. She rolled her eyes at his insistence that she was doing “super secret graduate business”.] Well, that’s the point of graduating for others. But for those of us who are going to be T.As before taking over a teaching position, this is what we do with out summers. So, unfortunately I can’t just forget everything I’ve learned at school.

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Dearest Git of the Highest Order; How beith life as a proper grown man? How's the apartment? Cosy? Bit different from the Potter establishment, I'll bet. Mum says you've got to nick round for a cuppa, so she can make sure you're not losing weight - I think she just wants proof that you haven't killed yourself for want of my presence. So old chap, straight from the horse's mouth - get yourself over here soonish. I have a hankering for a booming great time. From, messr of charm and grace; Prongs.

My Good Sir!

Grown men it seems eat nothing but canned soup. Apartment's fine, of course, but the radiator sometimes sounds a bit like Slughorn snoring; we're awaiting the explosion that is sure to come. You tell that mother of yours I'll be there within the next day or two - and that she needn't worry her pretty little head about me. 

You see that fit bird next door, tell her I send my condolences for not being around all summer. Poor thing's probably broken hearted.

Padfoot.

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Sirius the Sad Circus Clown

publishing without comment.

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All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down… 

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what’s life without a little risk? | (listen) { a fanmix about the young sirius black }

1. youth - daughter | 2. no rest - dry the river | 3. the cave - mumford & sons | 4. all these things that i’ve done - the killers | 5. radioactive - kings of leon | 6. currency love - silversun pickups | 7. the mall and misery - broken bells | 8. all i need - radiohead | 9. lonely boy - the black keys | 1O. many of horror - biffy clyro | 11. rockin’ in the free world - neil young | 12. back in black - ac/dc | 13. flume - bon iver | 14. two weeks - grizzly bear | 15. black treacle - arctic monkeys | 16. down down down - charlie simpson | 17. wicked game - chris isaac | 18. the hardest part - coldplay | 19. how soon is now - the smiths | 2O. answer to yourself - the soft pack

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[Forgotten duties, broken promises (and limbs) and muggle pinups once again swim to the front of his mind, forcing that acidic lump further up his throat. He's fine. He's fine, he's fine he's fine, missing the moment where the mantra comes out his own mouth in a low mumble that could hardly be called speech for how faint it is. Sirius can't even tell which he he's even thinking about anymore, whether it's himself or the retreating figure of the boy he'd once freely called his brother in fairer times. The bustle of the street around him has dulled to a muted buzzing sound, letting out a heavy breath - a sigh, a silent plea for a solution to the mess and for the bystanders to get out of the line of fire - he runs his hand down his face.] Oh for fucks... OI! [Calling out despite every lick of sense within him telling him it's a bad idea. When has he ever shied away from bad ideas anyway? He wasn't likely to start it anytime soon.]

[In spite of the long year after the fight, Regulus still couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was easier for Sirius to forget because Sirius had the Marauders. Sirius had James to open his arms and welcome him to another roof over his head and another family— or rather a family to love him. Regulus… Regulus had Kreacher. And Quidditch. And that was it. Everything else— from the clothes in his dresser to the newspaper clippings up on his walls were merely the products of steadfast obedience. When Walburga was happy, everyone was happy and the world seemed all the less painful to reside in. Regulus didn’t have friends like the Marauders to run to. If he’s being honest, as soon as he was sorted into Slytherin, Regulus knew — at least to some extent of the matter — that he didn’t have Sirius anymore either. And yet here he was, silently begging the Gryffindor to at least try. Try and be civil a little longer and maybe he won’t be so afraid to tell Sirius what’s going on— what has been going on since the older Black left home. It’s a silent but desperate plea— and once more it falls on deaf ears. Because Regulus isn’t a Gryffindor therefore he isn’t worthy of help. He’s a snake… and the air around him is as cold and empty as ever.] … Right. [There are a million ways he could go about it, really. Aim a few hexes— maybe a curse or two. Send Sirius flying through the window of the shopfront. Make his stupid hat explode. Even clench his fist and punch him clear in the face. He deserves it, doesn’t it? He’s being arrogant and acting like a git and— and if Regulus were to react to any of it than trying to protect Sirius at all costs would be worth nothing to begin with. So instead, he swallows down the urge to hit something out of sheer exasperation, forces his head into a nod, and walks away— but not before nudging the forgotten broomstick with his foot; brand new, never been used, still wrapped in paper… right up against Sirius’ feet before he turns and walks away. It’s alright. He likes the old one a far lot better anyway.]

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arithmancyxxnerd:

Yes, of course. Everyone else is mental … but you’re perfectly sane. [Septima couldn’t stop her smile. Sometimes she wondered if he actually thought half of what he said out loud or if it was all just an act.] Super secret graduate business? No, nothing like that. I’m running some errands for the Arithmancy Professor. Preparation for the school year I suppose.

Naturally. [Slurring out the words with a long perfected haughty drawl (his mother had been good at that one), though the effect is no doubt lost with the bark of laughter that bursts out afterwards, taking the hat from his head and holding it to his chest.] Seems fairly similar to super secret graduate business to me. Better not tell me anymore; my delicate seventh year ears might not be able to handle it. Doesn't exactly sound like the greatest summer though. Thought the whole point of graduating was the part where you can forget everything you've learnt over the past seven years and do absolutely nothing for a while.

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Plainly innocent. More innocent than any firstie let me tell you. Malicious little midgets, they are. And in a couple of weeks we have to deal with a whole nother gang of them. What's even the point of going back to school, I ask you? [looking much aggrieved as he shakes his head yet again, shoulders slumped in defeat.] You're ever so very welcome, shortstuff. Got to help out a friend somehow, right? You ever need a shoulder to cry on you know where to go.

Was nothing really. Don't get your  knickers into any knots, Hes. What do you think we were doing, dancing the tango? Blowing glass? Feeding stray dogs? [A loud scoff (causing a few wandering eyes from passers by)] Just had a little chat with Ol' Jimmy and me 'bout names and something about helmets and then vwoosh we were off again. [The details as to the encounter were of course far better left unsaid... at least in the middle of Diagon Alley by any case.] 'Course one of them went and dropped this and... well they did say we needed helmets so...

Ickle, yes - mainly because I can remember a day in the long gone past when I was actually a smidge taller then you,- but innocent? I find that incredibly hard to believe. Especially given your… exploits of late. [She gestures to the hat still atop his head with a bemused shake of her head, before recrossing her arms, and shifting her weight to her other foot.] But thank you, I shall treasure those condolences ever so much. They’ll get me through those horrid bad hair days for sure.

… A muggle policeman? A policeman!? Sirius Black, what on earth were you doing with a muggle policeman? [A million and one possibilities of what he could possibly have done to ‘meet’ a bobby raced through her mind, and the semi-amused smile that had been gracing her lips, dropped in favor of a thin-lipped look of disbelief. Thoughts of where she needed to be were replaced by a sudden worry. for her (sometimes) idiot of a friend.]

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Precisely my thoughts Miss Vector. Course it could also just be that everyone that keeps saying it is delusional and potentially mentally disturbed. [Far more likely in his opinion of course. Just got to work out how the hell he's supposed to get all the other poor lost souls around to that train of thought.] Dare I ask what's got you out and about in this fair grey skied city or is it super secret graduate business?

Well, as long as you can maintain that balance I suppose …. you wouldn’t be able to see why would you? [Septima chuckled lightly and shook her head. Now she remembered why she didn’t always mind talking to Sirius. Sure he could on occasion frustrate her, but he was pretty amusing when he wanted to be as well.]