#Reggie is more concerned with Merlin than anything else

[1shadowhole]

Alright alright I have a question.

Footloose... About Following the Beast...

If Thomas Eliot Osmond of the Canterbury Osmonds is Tommy

And Reginald Worthington III is Reggie

And Olivander Laird is Ollie.

Does that mean...

That Arthur Pendragon is Artie?

AND IF THAT IS THE CASE

How did Arthur's friends get to call the antichrist Artie?

And how do they react to the news of who exactly Arthur is when he eventually takes over the world?

I love these three psychopaths so much that I'd read a whole book about them.

[ginniewheezie]

Thursday

Thursday morning arrived at Number 12 Grimmauld Place with a rush of wind and a rumble of thunder. It was September 1 and a very exciting day in many households across Britain.  Sirius Black awoke with a start. His younger brother, Regulus, had just launched himself onto the bed, landing painfully on Sirius’ left ankle with a shout of, “SIRIUSGETUPITSTHURSDAY!”

“Merlin’s pants, Reggie!” Sirius yelped. “What in the bloody hell is the matter with you? It isn’t even daylight yet.” Noted Sirius with a nod toward the window.

Regulus followed Sirius’ gaze. “Uh huh!” he replied. “It’s morning. It’s been morning, sleepyhead. It’s just storming. Dad says it’s a big one. Andie says it’s a bad omen.”

“Andromeda is here?” Sirius perked up a bit at the mention of his favorite cousin.

“Uh huh! And Bella and Cissy.”

Sirius grimaced. His other two cousins could relocate to the moon as far as he was concerned. He found them to be bratty, whiny, and altogether stuck up. Regulus was fidgeting with a thread on the grey bedspread.

             “Hey, Sirius?”

             “Mm?”

             “Are you nervous? I mean about leaving. And about living somewhere else?

Sirius gave the boy a confident grin. “Nah. Can’t wait to get outta here! And besides, our whole family is in Slytherin so I’ll see them all the time. Except you, of course. I guess I’ll miss you. But not in the mornings,” he yawned. Reggie smiled.

Sirius turned his head and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over his dresser. He smirked as he ran his fingers through his tangled hair. His mother had given him a haircut last night, complaining that he looked “ragged and unfit to hold up the Black family name”. Wait til she saw how well it grew back!

“Sirius, stop gawking at yourself and get UP!” teased Regulus, now bouncing atop his older brother’s kneecaps.

“OUCH!” cried Sirius as he pushed his brother off his throbbing knees. Regulus, tangled up in the bedclothes, tumbled off the four poster and landed on the hardwood floor with a thud. Both boys froze.

“BOOOYYYYYYS!” came a screech from downstairs. Both brothers flinched as the sound of Walburga Black’s high heeled boots echoed on the staircase. Sirius’ posture became more and more tense as his mother’s footsteps grew closer to his bedroom door. With a snap, the heavy door slammed open and a pale, eerie light framed his mother’s angry face. She was a pale woman with long black hair and a rather prominent nose. Sirius reckoned she looked like the standard Muggle representation of a witch and this tickled him to no end. She was a remarkably tall woman who used her height to intimidate those around her, especially anyone she deemed to be a blood-traitor.

The Black family were proud to say that they were all pure-blooded witches and wizards and they thought anyone who wasn’t was a disgrace to wizard-kind. Sirius himself was rather disgusted by his family’s beliefs and often went out of his way to irritate his mother, who was proudest of them all.

“You!’ she snarled in Sirius’ direction. “Why aren’t you out of bed yet? The train leaves at exactly eleven o’clock and if you miss it, it’s your own fault!” she closed the door with another snap.

“She’s barking.” Protested Sirius. It’s not even near eleven. Is it?”

             “Nah.” Replied Regulus. “Round about seven-thirty. You know mum. She gets up at dawn and thinks the whole neighborhood should, too. I’m starved. Meet you downstairs for breakfast?”

Sirius nodded and watched his brother leave the room quietly. Then he flung himself back and sprawled out on the bed. The jet plane hanging from his ceiling wavered a bit. He knew he ought to be sad about leaving home but he was having a hard time thinking of things to miss. He sure wouldn’t miss this moldy old house with its dark walls and chilly drafts. He would miss Reggie, he supposed. They’d never really been apart for long. His parents, though. Well, he wasn’t so sure. He definitely wouldn’t miss their idealistic beliefs and pure-blood mania. He wouldn’t miss the Noble Society dinners and the way they sat around complaining about blood-traitors. He wouldn’t miss the stories his mother would read to them about the horrors of an increasingly Muggle-born nation. He’d miss his motorbikes, though, he thought as he looked around the room. His walls were decorated with an impressive 4 different posters featuring the Muggle mode of transportation.

“Master Sirius...” croaked a voice from the doorway.

“Blimey, Kreacher! I’ve told you to knock!” yelled Sirius.

“Apologies, I’m sure. Kreacher has come to summon young master for breakfast. Will he be joining the noble family?”

“Fine.” Spat Sirius.

The door closed. I certainly won’t miss him Sirius thought. As the Black’s house-elf and servant, Kreacher was bound to follow any order Sirius gave him, but he was far from happy about it. Kreacher worshipped the very ground Walburga walked on and he and Sirius had never seen eye to eye on anything. Sirius got out of bed, walked to his wardrobe, and flung open the big oak doors. He supposed Mother would expect him to dress in black. He pulled out one of his many charcoal suits and began to dress, resigning himself to one more breakfast with his family.

             As Sirius walked down the narrow hallway to the skinny staircase, his mood became increasingly sour. He took his place at the dining room table and somehow, he wasn’t quite sure exactly how, he got through breakfast with only a few snide remarks from his cousins and mother. It seemed the family was too preoccupied with the morning’s rush to adequately berate Sirius. At 10:57, they all apparated to King’s Cross station. Sirius didn’t care much for side-along apparition but the Blacks were above floo powder or any such ways of travel and the family name had always given them special privileges when it came to Ministry laws.

             Sirius loaded his luggage onto the train and sighed. He guessed he’d better bid his mother farewell or he would never hear the end of it. Sirius stepped back onto the platform and approached his mother.

            “Er, goodbye then, Mother,” he faltered under Walburga’s glare.

             “If I get so much as ONE owl, implying that you have somehow disgraced the family name, so help me I will disown your sorry behind. Is that understood?” she demanded.

Sirius raised his head and mumbled an affirmative response. Not wanting to meet his mother’s blazing eyes, he glanced slightly to her left and saw a dark-haired, bespectacled boy. He was standing with his mother’s arm around his shoulder and appeared to be watching Walburga with a curious expression on his face.

            “Bye, Sirius.” Came Regulus’s timid voice. Sirius reached out a hand and ruffled his brother’s hair. Then he turned and stepped onto the train, shutting the doors firmly behind him. He sighed once more and proceeded to search the cabin for an empty compartment. Sirius had almost reached the end when a door slid open and the dark-haired boy from the platform stuck his head out.

          “Hey. Need a seat?” He inquired. Sirius nodded. “Come on in,” said the boy. Sirius entered the compartment and took a seat next to a scrawny, light-haired boy with a scar on his cheek. The boy with the glasses sat across from Sirius.

      “I’m James. James Fleamont Potter.” He offered his hand and a small, mousy boy whom Sirius hadn’t noticed before let out a small snigger. James frowned at him, then returned to Sirius. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’m James’, he gestured grandly toward himself, “this is Remus,” he pointed to the boy with the scar, “and this knucklehead is Peter.”

Sirius nodded at each boy in turn. “I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.” He concluded. James gave Sirius a knowing look.

“Well, Sirius,” James began. “Let me know if you ever get tired of being a Black. You’d be welcome with us Potters, I’m sure.”

Sirius smiled at the boy. It seemed Hogwarts was going to be even better than he had expected.

[ginniewheezie]

Thursday

Thursday morning arrived at Number 12 Grimmauld Place with a rush of wind and a rumble of thunder. It was September 1 and a very exciting day in many households across Britain.  Sirius Black awoke with a start. His younger brother, Regulus, had just launched himself onto the bed, landing painfully on Sirius’ left ankle with a shout of, “SIRIUSGETUPITSTHURSDAY!”

“Merlin’s pants, Reggie!” Sirius yelped. “What in the bloody hell is the matter with you? It isn’t even daylight yet.” Noted Sirius with a nod toward the window.

Regulus followed Sirius’ gaze. “Uh huh!” he replied. “It’s morning. It’s been morning, sleepyhead. It’s just storming. Dad says it’s a big one. Andie says it’s a bad omen.”

“Andromeda is here?” Sirius perked up a bit at the mention of his favorite cousin.

“Uh huh! And Bella and Cissy.”

Sirius grimaced. His other two cousins could relocate to the moon as far as he was concerned. He found them to be bratty, whiny, and altogether stuck up. Regulus was fidgeting with a thread on the grey bedspread.

             “Hey, Sirius?”

             “Mm?”

             “Are you nervous? I mean about leaving. And about living somewhere else?

Sirius gave the boy a confident grin. “Nah. Can’t wait to get outta here! And besides, our whole family is in Slytherin so I’ll see them all the time. Except you, of course. I guess I’ll miss you. But not in the mornings,” he yawned. Reggie smiled.

Sirius turned his head and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over his dresser. He smirked as he ran his fingers through his tangled hair. His mother had given him a haircut last night, complaining that he looked “ragged and unfit to hold up the Black family name”. Wait til she saw how well it grew back!

“Sirius, stop gawking at yourself and get UP!” teased Regulus, now bouncing atop his older brother’s kneecaps.

“OUCH!” cried Sirius as he pushed his brother off his throbbing knees. Regulus, tangled up in the bedclothes, tumbled off the four poster and landed on the hardwood floor with a thud. Both boys froze.

“BOOOYYYYYYS!” came a screech from downstairs. Both brothers flinched as the sound of Walburga Black’s high heeled boots echoed on the staircase. Sirius’ posture became more and more tense as his mother’s footsteps grew closer to his bedroom door. With a snap, the heavy door slammed open and a pale, eerie light framed his mother’s angry face. She was a pale woman with long black hair and a rather prominent nose. Sirius reckoned she looked like the standard Muggle representation of a witch and this tickled him to no end. She was a remarkably tall woman who used her height to intimidate those around her, especially anyone she deemed to be a blood-traitor.

The Black family were proud to say that they were all pure-blooded witches and wizards and they thought anyone who wasn’t was a disgrace to wizard-kind. Sirius himself was rather disgusted by his family’s beliefs and often went out of his way to irritate his mother, who was proudest of them all.

“You!’ she snarled in Sirius’ direction. “Why aren’t you out of bed yet? The train leaves at exactly eleven o’clock and if you miss it, it’s your own fault!” she closed the door with another snap.

“She’s barking.” Protested Sirius. It’s not even near eleven. Is it?”

             “Nah.” Replied Regulus. Round about seven-thirty. You know mum. She gets up at dawn and thinks the whole neighborhood should, too. I’m starved. Meet you downstairs for breakfast?”

Sirius nodded and watched his brother leave the room quietly. Then he flung himself back and sprawled out on the bed. The jet plane hanging from his ceiling wavered a bit. He knew he ought to be sad about leaving home but he was having a hard time thinking of things to miss. He sure wouldn’t miss this moldy old house with its dark walls and chilly drafts. He would miss Reggie, he supposed. They’d never really been apart for long. His parents, though. Well, he wasn’t so sure. He definitely wouldn’t miss their idealistic beliefs and pure-blood mania. He wouldn’t miss the Noble Society dinners and the way they sat around complaining about blood-traitors. He wouldn’t miss the stories his mother would read to them about the horrors of an increasingly Muggle-born nation. He’d miss his motorbikes, though, he thought as he looked around the room. His walls were decorated with an impressive 4 different posters featuring the Muggle mode of transportation.

“Master Sirius...” croaked a voice from the doorway.

“Blimey, Kreacher! I’ve told you to knock!” yelled Sirius.

“Apologies, I’m sure. Kreacher has come to summon young master for breakfast. Will he be joining the noble family?”

“Fine.” Spat Sirius.

The door closed. I certainly won’t miss him Sirius thought. As the Black’s house-elf and servant, Kreacher was bound to follow any order Sirius gave him, but he was far from happy about it. Kreacher worshipped the very ground Walburga walked on and he and Sirius had never seen eye to eye on anything. Sirius got out of bed, walked to his wardrobe, and flung open the big oak doors. He supposed Mother would expect him to dress in black. He pulled out one of his many charcoal suits and began to dress, resigning himself to one more breakfast with his family.

             As Sirius walked down the narrow hallway to the skinny staircase, his mood became increasingly sour. He took his place at the dining room table and somehow, he wasn’t quite sure exactly how, he got through breakfast with only a few snide remarks from his cousins and mother. It seemed the family was too preoccupied with the morning’s rush to adequately berate Sirius. At 10:57, they all apparated to King’s Cross station. Sirius didn’t care much for side-along apparition but the Blacks were above floo powder or any such ways of travel and the family name had always given them special privileges when it came to Ministry laws.

             Sirius loaded his luggage onto the train and sighed. He guessed he’d better bid his mother farewell or he would never hear the end of it. Sirius stepped back onto the platform and approached his mother.

            “Er, goodbye then, Mother,” he faltered under Walburga’s glare.

             “If I get so much as ONE owl, implying that you have somehow disgraced the family name, so help me I will disown your sorry behind. Is that understood?” she demanded.

Sirius raised his head and mumbled an affirmative response. Not wanting to meet his mother’s blazing eyes, he glanced slightly to her left and saw a dark-haired, bespectacled boy. He was standing with his mother’s arm around his shoulder and appeared to be watching Walburga with a curious expression on his face.

            “Bye, Sirius.” Came Regulus’s timid voice. Sirius reached out a hand and ruffled his brother’s hair. Then he turned and stepped onto the train, shutting the doors firmly behind him. He sighed once more and proceeded to search the cabin for an empty compartment. Sirius had almost reached the end when a door slid open and the dark-haired boy from the platform stuck his head out.

          “Hey. Need a seat?” He inquired. Sirius nodded. “Come on in,” said the boy. Sirius entered the compartment and took a seat next to a scrawny, light-haired boy with a scar on his cheek. The boy with the glasses sat across from Sirius.

      “I’m James. James Fleamont Potter.” He offered his hand and a small, mousy boy whom Sirius hadn’t noticed before let out a small snigger. James frowned at him, then returned to Sirius. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’m James’, he gestured grandly toward himself, “this is Remus,” he pointed to the boy with the scar, “and this knucklehead is Peter.”

Sirius nodded at each boy in turn. “I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.” He concluded. James gave Sirius a knowing look.

“Well, Sirius,” James began. “Let me know if you ever get tired of being a Black. You’d be welcome with us Potters, I’m sure.”

Sirius smiled at the boy. Thursday was turning out to be alright after all. It seemed Hogwarts was going to be even better than he had expected.