#yes Sirius has the most well behaved hair out of the marauders

[here-for-a-good-time-hopefully]

Sirius walking out with a towel on his head

James: Hey Sirius

Sirius: What?

James: Your hair

Sirius (taking the towel off his head and his hair is perfect): Oh right I forgot thank you

Remus: How does it?-

Sirius (walking out the door): Money

[theeslytherinslut]

The Perpetual Freak (2/?)

Ch 2: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader Warnings: none, slight language (but that's for every chapter rlly) Word Count: 3,108

As if on cue, you heard a knock at the door just as your foot touched down onto the landing. The sound of quick, heeled footsteps sounded immediately after; Grandmother briskly coming down the hall followed by the slower steps of Blakely as he surely wanted to gaze curiously at your friends.

“Prongs!” you breathed upon seeing James, smiling fondly at the messy mop of black hair atop your friend's head.

“Twitchy!” he smiled back, opening his arms in greeting. You wasted no time in falling into them, smiling into his chest as his hug signaled the true return to Hogwarts.

“Mrs. Killianis,” James said, suddenly formal as he looked to your severe grandmother behind you. Following his gaze, you saw her eyes narrowing as Sirius and Remus all but fell out of the car, Peter’s wheezing laughter following them out.

You smiled fondly after them as Remus brushed the dirt from his knees, frowning up at Sirius. Sirius grinned back and ran a hair through his raven black hair, brushing it from his eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Killianis,” Sirius said, his voice taking on a tone you’d never heard before. You and James glanced warily at each other.

“Hello, boys,” she said stiffly, her eyes now staring rudely at the scars littering Remus’ exposed skin.

Remus cleared his throat, clearly catching your grandmother's eyes. “Shall we get your trunk then?” he said, clapping his hands together as he smiled at you.

You offered him a sympathetic smile and pushed an apology into his head at your grandmother’s rudeness.

“That’d be great, Moony, thanks.” you nodded. Peter followed him up into your room dutifully. After a moment or two, you heard what sounded like a reprimanding noise followed by a sharp smack and idly wondered what was going on.

“I suppose you’ll be staying at the school for the Holidays again, yes? Blakely and I were planning a trip,” Grandmother said suddenly--it didn’t take a genius to figure out you weren’t invited.

“Definitely,” you answered briskly. The choice between a Hogwarts Christmas with the boys and a visit to Grandmother's sister’s house in the States with Blakely was a no-brainer.

“Lovely thing Hogwarts does, providing a home for the holidays,” James grinned, putting an emphasis on ‘home.’ Grandmother lowered her eyes, but Remus and Peter were already coming down the stairs, hauling your heavy trunk between them.

“Bloody hell, Twitch,” Remus huffed, blowing his thin brown hair out of his eyes, “What’d you pack?”

“Mind your tongue, boy,” Grandmother snipped as the two of them passed through the front door. “You won’t behave like the heathens that you are in my presence.”

“Er, right,” Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes and laughing under his breath. “C’mon, Twitch, don’t want to be late.”

Eager to leave the situation, you quickly followed the boys out and made your way into the baking heat. Just as they made to load your trunk, you clucked your tongue as Peter fumbled his end and dropped it roughly into the undoubtedly magically enhanced trunk.

“Sorry,” Peter winced, rubbing his hands together in an anxious sort of way.

“S’Alright Wormtail. Now, shall we get a move on, then?” James said, using his wand to swing open the car door for you. You heard your grandmother let out a small gasp, and Blakely took a step back. As most parents took the time to drop their children off at Platform 9 3/4, the journey there was generally a sort of grace period if you wanted to use magic; the Ministry wouldn’t take the time to differentiate each use of magic on this day between parents and students. Per wizarding law, they'd never seen magic as you didn’t use it during your time here--aside from your special gift.

“Please,” you said, turning to leave without glancing back.

“You aren’t going to say goodbye?” you heard Remus ask. You turned to answer him before you slipped into the car, but he wasn’t talking to you.

“Excuse me?” Grandmother said, clearly affronted he was saying anything more than ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’

“Honestly, Moony, just let it alone,” Sirius moaned as he made his way back out of the car to gather him.

“You aren’t going to see your granddaughter for 9 months, surely you’re going to at least say goodbye?” Remus pressed on, equally affronted. Sirius took a step closer to his friend, and you saw your grandmother’s eyes fall upon the several tattoos that already littered his arms; Sirius lived to upset his family, and tattoos were such a Muggle form of rebellion it only bolstered his point.

Her eyes then fell to the both of their wands, which were gripped tightly in their hands, and let out a breath she’d been holding. Lowering her eyes but acquiescing nonetheless, she sighed.

“Goodbye, then,” she said stiffly, nudging Blakely, who was locking eyes with a mischievous looking Sirius. Glancing behind Blakely’s head, you saw a dish hovering dangerously above his head and looked to see Sirius' wand pointed right at it. Rolling your eyes, you pushed the dish back with your own and threw a knowing grin at Sirius.

“Naughty, naughty boy,” you said silently. He grinned back boyishly at you and threw you a wink.

“See you next summer,” Blakely allowed, lowering his eyes at you and grinning in an awful sort of way. You could’ve sworn you heard a growl on your right and found Remus glaring at Blakely, who swallowed harshly and disappeared back into the house. At that, you slipped into the front seat next to James, the rest of the boys piling into the backseat, Remus scolding Sirius for shoving Peter out of the way to get in first. Fondly, you smiled and listened to them bicker.

“Merlin, glad that’s over.” Remus shook his head as James smoothly pulled away from the house. “Don’t know how you do it all summer.”

“Aw, what’s the matter, Moony? Not a big fan of familial tension, are we? I think it’s rather quite nice; reminds me of home,” Sirius said with a fake voice of longing. James looked through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes at Sirius.

“Muggles giving you hell again?” Peter squeaked from the backseat, grabbing the head of your seat and leaning up towards you.

He’d always been a mousy boy, but after his first successful transformation, his commonalities with his Animagi only became more pronounced.

“When do they not, Wormtail?” you laughed, throwing a gum wrapper at him playfully as you popped a piece into your mouth.

“Ooh, is that gum?” Sirius asked, peering over your shoulder from the backseat.

“Yes, but it’s Muggle-gum.” you reminded him.

“Bit boring, but it’ll do. Jamesy won’t let me smoke in the car,” Sirius sneered, looking amusedly at an annoyed-looking James in the mirror.

“It smells! Isn’t my fault Dad has the nose of a bloody hound,” he defended, looking disgruntled at the thought of being a do-gooder.

“Good ol’ Fleamont, what a chap,” Sirius laughed, spreading out on the backseat and draping his arm along the seats. He reached and affectionately gave Remus’ hair a tussle, jostling Peter in the process, who grinned.

“So, now that we’ve all been reminded how horrible my lovely grandmother is, how was everybody else’s Holiday?” you asked as James drove the car expertly around the busy London streets--Muggle driving was a skill he was particularly proud of.

“Oh, you know, wonderful as always. Mother only threatened to have me disenfranchised and disgraced twice this year, so that’s a mark better than last Holiday.” Sirius laughed, blowing bubbles with his gum but frowning in disappointment when they popped.

“Didn’t you go to Prongs’ early this year?” you asked, remembering James’ letter that Sirius had arrived a few weeks into break.

“Yeah, don’t know why the evil hag insists on having me around anyway. All she does is dote on Regulus and send the nearest object flying at my head. Don’t even get me started on Kreacher...I don’t think I’ll go back next year.” a dark look came over his features, and you found yourself staring at him.

“What?” you asked, shocked at the nonchalant tone of his serious words.

“Yeah, I didn’t so much go to Prongs’ early this year as I did run away,” he said, looking slightly sheepish as you looked accusingly at him.

“What? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?” you gasped, turning in the front seat entirely to glare at him.

“Dunno, I mean, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” he shrugged.

“Well, go on then, tell me more,” you insisted.

“Just more of the same Twitch. You don’t understand,” he paused, and his usual carefree, light demeanor vanished and was taken over by a dark cloud that seemed to fill the car. “That house, it’s like a black hole. It swallows you whole. It’s like a bloody residential dementor. Every decent thought you have gets sucked into the black wallpaper, every horrible thought you’ve ever had on repeat, magnified. I can’t breathe in that house; they’re all so cozy, so comfortable in that dark, that evil. The Noble House of Black, it’s killing me slowly, draining the life out of me.”

He seemed aware of how much he was saying, how serious he’d gotten, because, at the end of the little speech, he let out a deep breath and forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

“Nothing like Prongs’ here, for example,” he grinned up at his friend, who shot him one from the mirror.

“I mean, you basically already lived there,” James shrugged. “Besides, Mum was thrilled--you know, I think she likes you better than me sometimes.”

“Oh, she definitely does, mate. Euphemia and me? Kinda besties,” Sirius grinned, and the dark cloud dispersed. You found yourself staring at Sirius, chest full of emotion. The quickness with which he dismissed himself was almost worse.

“And, Moony? How was yours?” James asked, filling the silence.

“Decent, I suppose. Though I’ve almost worked my way through every decent book worth reading at the library closest to home, all the rest are the silly little Muggle books in that dingy section they have in the back...though I started reading this one called the ‘Bible’; Merlin does it tell some truly fantastic tales...whales eating people, turning water to wine, healing the blind--this Jesus bloke even rose from the dead! I reckon he was some type of early wizard or something, don’t know how the Muggles don’t...” he trailed off while the rest of you shared knowing glances. Moony was prone to monologues full of on-the-spot thinking, constantly prattling on about something he’d read in some book.

“You’re doing it again,” you shot a meaningful look at Remus, who blushed scarlet at your mental words and trailed off.

“Hey, no fair!" Sirius whined from the back seat at you. "I wanted to see where he was going with that. There definitely could’ve been something in there well worth making fun of!”

“Opportunity missed, Padfoot.” James hissed in sympathy at his friend, smiling at him in the rearview mirror.

“You all leave Moony alone. Just because he gets abnormally excited about really obscure Muggle things doesn’t mean we get to make fun of him for it,” you shot a smile at Remus in the back seat, who rolled his eyes but nonetheless smiled around sheepishly.

“How was your summer, James?” Peter asked from the backseat, leaning up hopefully.

“Alright, my parents set up a little Quidditch pitch in the back; Sirius got his arse handed to him a couple times,” James smirked, throwing a playful grin at his best friend in the backseat.

Wormtail laughed gleefully at James’ story as he described a match while Sirius sat up indignantly, poised to argue.

“I’m a Keeper, Potter. Not a sodding Seeker. Not too quick to tell everyone how miserable you were at trying to get the Quaffle in, though, are you?” Sirius quipped from the backseat.

“Down, boy. We all know how great of a Keeper you are, wouldn’t have won that last match against Ravenclaw without you..” you pushed into Sirius’ head, stroking his bruised ego. He met your eyes in the rearview and smirked up at you, clearly appeased by your comment. Lounging lazily once more in the roomy backseat, he turned to Peter.

“What about you, Wormtail? Your Holiday good?” Sirius said, cocking his head at his friend with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“S’alright..” he trailed off, looking around nervously as Sirius grinned at him.

“Really? Didn’t miss having Prongs’ arse to kiss?” he sneered at his friend, who blushed and stuttered.

“Let him alone, Pads,” Remus smiled at his friend from across the seats.

Just as the boys began to bicker more harshly, James pulled into the parking lot at Kings Cross, and the group of you piled out of the car.

“Wormtail, go find us a trolley,” Sirius said, and with a wave of his hand, Peter was gone.

“Obedient little bugger, isn’t he?” Remus said praisingly, rubbing his chin.

“Why d’you think he’s made it this long?” Sirius laughed, lifting his trunk out of the car as Peter came wheezing around with the trolley.

“I’ve got it, Y/N,” Peter said, exerting tremendous effort to lift your trunk until Remus saw him and reached in to help.

“Thanks, Peter...always so helpful.” you pushed to him in thanks. You saw him blush violently and smile to himself.

Your gift had taught you many things, but perhaps above all: people were so easily manipulated, one well-timed compliment, and it could send a person fawning. Though you weren’t shy to use it to your advantage, it was lucky a person of your moral stature had the gift. It could be so easily used...perhaps it was thoughts like these that led to the Sorting Hat’s consideration of your placement in Slytherin.

Half an hour later, your trunks were placed in the train's storage carriages, and the group of you were lounging in a compartment, your various pets making random noises as they settled in for the long train ride.

Jinx hooted sleepily in his cage before lifting his wing and drifting off to sleep. Sirius’ handsome jet-black Screech Owl, BamBam, seemed to take a cue from Jinx and buried his head into his wing as well. They almost resembled salt and pepper shakers as they stood next to one another in direct contrast. To most everyone's intense surprise, Remus’ pet was a fluffy siamese cat named Cleo. Unsurprising, however, was Peter’s choice of a pet rat named Nibbles. Though, Nibbles was on his last leg--most common rats only lived a couple of years, and Nibbles had been with Peter since first year.

“What’re you doing?” Peter asked, sitting up interestedly in his seat as Sirius drew out his wand and flung open the compartment door.

“Having some fun,” Sirius shrugged, the grin you all loved so much donning his face. James watched his friend and broke into a smile; Peter seemed to be struggling to sit still with excitement; even Remus peered over the top of his book to watch.

Fully aware he was holding all of your attention, Sirius pointed his wand at the wall opposite your door.

“Carpe Retractum,” Sirius said, and a length of rope came spouting out at the end of his wand. “Bollocks...what’s that one to get something to stick to something else?” he asked into the compartment after a moment.

“Epoximise,” Remus answered from behind his book once more, seemingly having seen everything he needed to.

“Right, cheers, Moony,” Sirius smiled and did the incantation, sticking the other end of the rope to the wall. Pulling on his wand, he seemed to test his theory and smiled in success as the rope pulled taught--effectively making a tripwire.

“Very nice,” you complimented, to which you received a playful little bow of his head.“Might I suggest something, though?”

“By all means, Twitch,” Sirius said, gesturing to the tripwire.

“Omnino dissimulare,” you spoke, pointing your wand at the length of rope. As the white beam of light hit it, the rope disappeared from view, and you smiled triumphantly. You’d been working hard on that one towards the end of last term and were worried you’d have to start over with the holiday break.

“Excellent!” Peter cheered, clapping wildly at the two of you.

“Where’d you learn that?” Remus said, finally putting his book down and looking at you curiously.

“Been working on it for a bit. Found it in a book Madam Pince let me take home last Christmas,” you answered, feeling a bit smug that you’d impressed Remus.

“Pince let you take home books?” Remus said, incredulous.

“You know she pities me,” you laughed, waving a hand. “Though, she did threaten to turn me inside out if there was so much a creased page--so only marginally.”

“Wait, wait!” Sirius called, pointing to the door excitedly; Peter was positively quivering.

A group of already-robed Slytherins came strolling past your window, and you smiled in anticipation. At the last second, Sirius jerked his wrist and tightened the rope, sending the group of Slytherins sprawling across the floor.

The group of you exploded into laughter, and they all got to their feet, whipping their wands out, looking for a culprit. Given the rope was invisible, however, they found no such thing and resigned to giving the group of you ugly looks before grumping off.

“Oh, very good, Padfoot,” Peter simpered, laughing heartily as tears of joy rolled down his plump cheeks.

“A little juvenile,” Remus scolded, smiling ruefully at his friends, “But funny. However, as a Prefect, I am not to indulge in such behavior and as such must sincerely reprimand you.”

“Most eloquently spoken, dear Moony. Tell me, does being a Prefect mean you have to be just a bit of a prat on principle?” James asked his friend, painting a serious look on his face as Sirius and Peter erupted into laughter. You let out a small giggle as Remus blushed slightly and put down his book.

“Well, you should sure as hell hope not,” Remus began, smiling mischievously at his friend. “Imagine fawning after Lily Evans for years, at her often utter disgust, only for her to end up being a prat. Talk about unfortunate, mate.”

The group of you were in stitches over Remus’ response, and even James let out a laugh.

“Touche, Moony. Touche,” he laughed, shaking his finger at Remus in a playful manner. A warm feeling spread through you; you were so happy to finally be going home.

************

Taglist: @whiskeypowder

[startanewdream]

Hey, I just wanted to say that I love your Jily Live AU. I hope you can write more of them. Have you written anything about James and Lily finding out about Snape being Harry’s teacher and his shenanigans? Or about them talking to Harry about Peter? Or even Harry asking his mom what it was like to be a muggleborn? I think those could be good.

Hi! I'm so glad you are enjoying it, it's such a nice world to think of!

I think Snape's relationship with James and Lily is difficult in any universe, and it hurts me to think how a living James would deal with Peter's betrayal (though this is a story I hope to write sometime). So here is a short drabble of Harry and Lily discussing her being a Muggleborn. Hope you enjoy it :)

Warning for mildly swearing, I think.

_________________________

Her hand is writing nonstop, registering her latest discovery, and Lily is so immersed in that feeling of uncovering secrets of potions - new combinations for old ingredients, the closest to science she can find in magic - that she doesn’t immediately register Harry calling her.

‘Mum? Mum!’

‘No chocolate before dinner, Harry, you know the rules’. she says vaguely, still concentrating on writing down the effects of mixing moonstone and wolfsbane.

‘No, I don’t…. there is chocolate?’

‘What?’

‘I want to talk to you’.

‘I’m working now, Harry, you know when mum is busy you have to -’

‘What is a mudblood?’

That makes her lose control of her hand, making a line with the quill across the parchment. Her hand trembles as she carefully rests the quill, raising her eyes to find a pair of green eyes that are the exact tone of hers.

Harry’s voice is nothing like Snape’s, but she can somehow hear the echo of her former best friend calling her mudblood a lifetime ago.

‘Where did you hear that word, Harry?’, she asks quietly, but Harry seems to know something is wrong because he recoils, unsure.

‘Is that an adult word? I am sorry, I didn’t know -’

‘That’s okay, Harry, I am not mad at you’, Lily assures, forcing herself to smile at her son. She offers her arms. ‘Come here’.

Harry doesn’t hesitate before rounding her desk and approaching her. Lily puts him on her lap, caressing softly his hair, making it messy in the way Harry likes, to copy his father’s style.

He is looking at her curiously, and Lily wishes she didn’t have to explain the hard reality of the world - of her world - to her six-years-old son.

‘Who said that word, Harry?’, Lily asks again, softly.

‘I heard today when dad and me -’

‘“Dad and I”, Harry’, she corrects him with a gentle smile. Harry blushes.

‘Yes, when we were at Diagon Alley today. Someone told Dad was a disgrace for marrying a mud… that word’.

Lily bits her lips. James hadn’t said anything to her, even though he had returned home from their trip with a closed face. She should have known something had happened -

‘Dad was going to fight the man’, Harry whispers, looking as if he is sharing a secret. ‘But Uncle Moony didn’t let him. He said - he said Dad was just going to get in trouble’.

‘Remus is always the most reasonable’.

‘I don’t want Dad to be in trouble!’

‘He is not, Harry, it’s fine’, Lily says reassuringly. ‘Your father was just upset. That man said a very bad word’.

‘But you are not a disgrace… you are mum. Dad is happy marrying you!’

‘Of course he is. It’s just… Some people don’t think he should have married me’. When Harry looks mutinous, she touches the point of his nose, making him blink. ‘Let me explain to you, ok?’

She waits until Harry nods silently, his eyes big and confused and so pure that Lily hates more than ever all the prejudice there is in the wizarding world.

‘Do you know how I told you about my parents? Your grandparents?’. He nods once more. ‘They were Muggles’.

Harry furrows his brows, concentrating.

‘They always took you and Aunt Petunia to the zoo’, he says slowly, remembering one of her stories. Lily smiles softly. ‘And they bought you ice cream at the exit’.

‘I always chose chocolate ice cream’.

‘Like me! It’s my favourite’.

‘Yes’, she agrees, tickling him, making Harry giggle. She waits until he stops laughing, then she sighs. ‘Well, because they were Muggles, I’m what wizards called muggleborn. That just means my parents weren’t magical folks’.

‘Does it make a difference, being a muggleborn?’

She can hear the echo of herself making that same question years ago. Severus had told her it didn’t. He had lied.

It wouldn’t be his last lie.

‘It shouldn’t make a difference, Harry’, she says slowly. ‘Every witch and wizard is capable of doing magic, and magic doesn’t care about your surname or your blood or who your parents are. But…’

‘But?’

‘But some people don’t see it like that. Some people think they are better than others because all their past relatives were magic too’. Lily swallows hard and looks at Harry deeply in his eyes. ‘They are wrong, Harry. No one is better than anyone. Every witch and wizard should be equal’.

‘There are people that don’t like you?’, Harry asks in a whisper.

Lily closes her eyes briefly and she can remember the first time she understood the snickers, the contempt in other people’s eyes when they looked at her.

‘Yes’, she admits. ‘Do you remember when we told you about the war? About the man that gave you that scar?’

Harry acquiesces quietly, trembling slightly. Lily and James had told him only the basics of Voldemort, the bare minimum he needed to understand where his scar came from.

‘Well, one of the things he defended was that wizarding blood was different, that muggles were lesser than wizards. And that anyone who had muggle relatives, especially muggleborns like me, were worthless because of their relation with muggles'.

‘But you are a great witch!’, Harry cries indignantly. ‘You make all these spells and potions and -’

‘That’s the point, Harry’, she cuts him off gently. ‘I am as magical as your dad, as much as anyone. It doesn’t matter who my parents were, but that doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of them. I loved them very much and I’m glad to be muggleborn. It means I belong in both worlds. Like you’.

‘I am in two worlds too?’

‘Of course you are’, she assures him, smiling at her son. ‘And everyone is worth the same, magical or not, witch and wizard or any other creature. No one is better than anyone’.

Harry agrees with his head, looking as thoughtful as a six-years-old can be.

‘But those who are prejudiced use Mudblood as a slur for muggleborns like me’.

‘It’s a bad word’, says Harry solemnly.

‘Yes, it is’.

‘I won’t let anyone call you that’, Harry promises. ‘You or anyone else’.

Lily hugs him.

‘Just don’t get into trouble for it’, she asks. ‘Those people - those prejudiced people - are not worth it’.

‘The secret, Harry’, she hears someone saying from the door, and she turns to see James smirking there, ‘is that if no one knows it was you, you won't ever be in trouble’.

Lily raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything.

‘Sirius just arrived. He is asking for his favourite godson’, James adds, and Harry lets out a happy cry.

‘Can I go, Mum?’, he says. She nods, and he kisses her on the cheek before jumping, running towards the door.

James just messes with his son’s hair as Harry passes through him, and he closes the door of her office.

'Did you just tell our son that he shouldn't get caught?', Lily asks, the corners of her mouth almost lifting up in a smile.

'Well, I wasn't going to say he shouldn't defend his mum', James ponders, sitting on her desk. There is a smile on his face that Lily can only describe as marauder.

'Why do I think you took your own advice?'

'Oh, Lily, you hurt me', he says playfully, tucking her hair behind her ear. 'What would you think I have anything to do with Travers' office being inundated for a week?'

'Who said anything about Travers?'

'Not me. In fact, the less I think about that wanker, the better'.

'Language, James', she teases, smiling despite herself. 'That's an adult word. What if Harry hears it?'

'Harry is pretty busy right now, since Sirius owned me a favour or two', he whispers, bending down to press his lips softly against her neck. 'How about we do some adult things?'

The door of her office stays closed for a very long time.

------------------------------------------

There is an expression on James' face when he returns home that Lily has long ago learnt to associate with a prank.

'What?', she asks, raising her eyebrows.

James grins.

'I had the most fascinating chat with Minerva today, when I dropped by to deliver her my recent articles'.

'Yeah?'

'She told me a curious tale. Apparently Lucius Malfoy's son's new broomstick had to be sent to repair because someone managed to dispel the cushioning charm'.

'How come?'

'No one knows… just as it happens, by pure coincidence, Harry asked me a week ago about the theory of dispelling charms'.

'What?!', Lily cries, just as James' smirk increases. 'Harry is supposed to behave, James, especially after that story with the flying car -'

'Apparently, the Malfoy boy called Hermione Granger a "Mudblood" one week ago', James adds, in a nonchalant voice.

Lily blinks.

'I see. I suppose no one discovered who tampered with the broomstick?', she asks, her voice as calm as his now.

James denies with his head.

'Too bad then', she replies, returning to her book with a smirk that she knows it’s just like the one on James’ face. 'I guess we will always wonder who did it'.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood 32 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

A/N: Its feels so good to be back <3 -Val

Masterlist

Chapter 31   Chapter 33

If someone had told me that teaching James Potter was going to be like this from the beginning, I wouldn't have offered to help him. I wouldn't even have accepted his friendship.

"That doesn't make sense. You want me to ignore her, but I don't want to do that to her!"

I grunt and pull on my hair.

“It's not ignoring her. It's giving her space and not spending 24 hours breathing on her shoulder!"

"I don't do that!"

"That doesn't matter, James!" I yell, others start to stare around the Gryffindor common room.

"I told you it wouldn't be easy..." He mumbles.

"I didn't think you were such an idiot... Listen, once Lily agrees to be your girlfriend, you can be as clingy as you want, obviously she'll set the limits, but at least she'll no longer want to kill you like I want to,” I force a smile.

"Ok, explain again," He sighs.

“Stop harassing her, say good morning to her and go on with your day, if you meet her in the hallways– and no, you don't have to look for her, you just ask her how she's doing, if she decides to have a conversation, you follow, if not, you wish her the best and you leave. Same at dinner. Let her breathe."

"But it's so boring and at that rate she'll go out with me in ten years..." He complains, resting his arms on the table.

"You already have some advantage, you've spoken to her and met a little, now she must see that you have matured and that you can have a serious relationship–"

"I can do that!"

"Prove it."

"Anything else?"

“Save the compliments, at least for now. Just be simple."

"Good."

"Will you be okay tomorrow?"

"I hope so..."

***

Two weeks passed in which James followed my advice. And right now, in potions class, I smile every time Lily turns discreetly toward James.

"I can't believe it's working," Sirius says next to me.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Do you distrust your girlfriend's abilities?"

“I'm actually scared now. Who knows what you'll do in our relationship?"

"That's up to both of us and it depends on how you behave," I smile and kiss his cheek.

Class ends and I walk along with Sirius holding his hand.

"Good thing I didn't take the bet," says Remus catching up with us. "Lily's nervous..."

"Bet?"

"The three of us weren't so sure your plan would work, but the fact that James is listening to you made us change our minds," he explains.

The three of us stop before going to the great hall and James walks over.

"This is not working Persephone!"

I frown.

"What are you talking about?" The others also look at him confused.

“Now it's worse. Lily runs away from me and when I think she wants to talk, something happens and she runs as if I had some disease!"

I smile slightly and take his hand.

“Don't worry, everything is going well. You just have to be patient."

"I've waited six years..."

"Just a little more."

He grunts and nods.

Of all the students who pass us, I notice Regulus. Sirius notices it.

"Hey, you guys go ahead," he says to the others.

I frown and look at him.

"I spoke with Regulus," he tells me, surprising me. I never told him that I had talked to his brother.

"What? Why? What did he say?"

"Ok, calm down."

"Sirius," I threatened.

“I wanted to make sure my brother was… I don't know, okay? I was never able to send him letters, for obvious reasons, and when we came back to school he ignored me, but I found a way..."

"And?"

"It was a failure, and he has every right to be mad at me," He sighs. "He told me some things that Walburga forced him to do and all that..." He's silent for a few seconds. "Percy, last night I was thinking about what would happen if I came back? If I asked for forgiveness and take full responsibility…"

"I don't think it's that easy," I walk out of reach and he follows me.

“I know, but just imagine it. Maybe my parents will forget everything and I'll be the heir, I marry you… Regulus won't have to endure anything else. I've always been there for him, even when my parents got mad because I was sorted in Gryffindor, or all those times I tried to defend someone. He always came to me and we talked. Regulus was the one who scolded me the most for what I did to you, but he knows what to say and I'm just a selfish idiot…"

His chest rises and falls with heavy breathing. I stop him and cup his cheek.

“Sirius, I want to help him too. But taking the blame and wanting to do something that only hurts you is not the solution."

"Then what is?"

"I don't know," I shake my head. I feel a lump in my throat. "We can't always help everyone and less those who do not want to."

He leans in, his forehead against mine

"I want to get him out of there..."

"Me too," I sigh and close my eyes.

I slowly walk away and look at the boy in front of me. I wrap my arms around his neck and play with the little strands of hair that come out of his ponytail. He grabs my waist.

“I wish I could do something to keep Regulus with us, and you out of the reach of your family. Maybe the three of us in a small house..." I smile. "No school, no worries, just us in peace..."

"With James and the others on the weekends..."

"James married to Lily..."

"Remus telling us stories..."

"Peter cooking something for everyone..."

We both laugh at the thought.

"It's what we need."

***

When they say that the last year is faster, they are absolutely right. No more exams, now we can follow a quiet routine, at least inside Hogwarts.

Outside the chaos spreads and more and more Muggle or wizard families are disappearing. What worries the most are the reactions of others.

While some of us are afraid of what is happening, some smile and think that all victims deserve it.

Every time someone mentions any of that news, the atmosphere becomes tense and ends in fights.

The teachers don't want to tell us anything, after all, what can a group of teenagers do?

Just barely a week before Christmas break, Professor Dumbledore needs me in his office. When I arrive the marauders, Jenna, Lily and their friends are there too.

"What's going on?"

"Miss Singh, join the others, please" I obey.

The movements of the director on the other side of his desk are slow and meticulous. His always sweet and playful look is replaced by a serious one.

"I know you all have questions, unfortunately I cannot answer all of them," He walks to the side of his phoenix and caresses it slowly. "What I am about to tell you is confidential and it is vitally important that this only remains between us."

"Excuse me, professor," says Lily. “I don't think that's very encouraging. You took us out of class and now you're asking us to keep a secret. Sorry if I sound defensive, but I don't feel comfortable with all of this."

She is absolutely right and I am grateful someone said so. Because I have no idea whether to panic or ignore it. Dumbledore nods.

"I am aware of what is happening, I can easily read your expressions," he sighs, "I suppose you are all aware of the disappearances of both Muggle families and wizards."

"Do you know anything about that?" James asks and I tense my body.

Dumbledore nods again.

“I can't give you many details, I'm afraid, at least for now. However, the reason I brought you here together is that I have known you for almost seven years each, even if you think that teachers don't pay attention."

Sirius and I share a look.

“Therefore, I have the confidence to tell you about an organization. This is not official and we did not plan to tell you before everyone was of legal age, but the situation has worsened very quickly and I fear the worst..."

"What does that have to do with us, professor?"

“This organization aims to defeat the enemies guilty of all this chaos. I have spoken with the others and we agree that you can be of great help to make this happen."

"But we're just kids," adds Peter.

"That's the key, young Pettigrew."

My family comes to mind. I have no proof, but something tells me that they may be involved.

“For now, you cannot do more than gather information. Unfortunately, we are not the only ones who have rallied young people to be on their side. As soon as you graduate, we will tell you all the details and you can make the decision. We don't want to force anyone, but...” He gets up and watches us through his half-moon glasses. "You may be the solution."

Everything is silent for a few minutes, until McGonagall arrives and asks us to return to class.

"Miss Singh, may I have one more moment?" I nod. "I see that something else is bothering you, may I know what it is?"

Of all the people I could tell, I know that Dumbledore can be a great help. I know Sirius and the others know something, but they're just as lost as I am. Maybe someone older can help me.

"I don't think I can help much, professor."

"Why not?"

I frown.

"Do you know my family?"

He laughs slightly.

“Yes, I know them. Do you think they are involved in this?" I nod.

"And now I can't do much outside of school, they watch me."

“I am aware of that, Miss Singh. But that's why I'll give you time to think about it. I don't want to ask you to do things against your family, far from it. When this year is over, you will have your answer."

"How can you be so sure? How do you know that everything could work? If I accept and my family finds out, I could not bear the guilt and I don't want to be anyone's spy, I don't want to do any of that,”I say agitated.

Dumbledore sighs.

“Whatever your decision may be, I will personally help you with any problem you come across. You have my word,"

My eyes water.

It's not the answer to all my problems, but it is more than anyone could give me.

***

"You can't have chocolate cake for breakfast, P," Jenna scolds me.

"Sure I can, watch" I take a piece with my fork, but another hand takes it away.

"She's right," Remus says, pushing my fork away.

I pout.

"I wasn't going to eat just that," I lie.

"Here, " continues Jenna putting a plate with pumpkin soup in front of me.

"But I don't want soup..."

"That's the condition, don't be a child!" says Remus.

"Fine," I give up.

"Who would say that now they scold you even for eating?" Sirius scoffs next to me.

"It's not the only time. Only merlin knows how many days I had to hide my chocolates so that you could eat something else..."

"Ha…"

Sirius makes a face.

"Uh, Persephone," Lily tells me a few seats away.

"Yes?"

"What did you do now?"

"Another scolding? And now why?"

"You tell me, everyone is watching you," I raise my head and confirm what the redhead says.

I don't remember anything... at least something bad.

"Is it because she's with Sirius?" Marlene asks.

"I don't think so..."

At that, several owls enter the castle. I don't receive any, as usual, but something that worries me is that the accusing looks continue and some point to me, then see a white paper in their hands.

"Oh no," Jenna whispers and I notice she has a black envelope. "This is not good…"

She opens it and with her shaking hands takes out a white paper. She reads it and I see her pale. When she's done, she watches me.

"I, uh..." She hands me the paper.

I take it and read the italicized words.

The wedding of the century.

The great heirs of the most important families of the wizarding world Walburga and Orion Black along with Ares and Amelia Singh, have the honor to send this invitation:

You are cordially invited to the union between Regulus Arcturus Black and Persephone Amelia Singh.

The ceremony will take place in the summer of the following year at the great Black Mansion.

Taglist

@treestarrrrrrrr​ @siriuslysirius1107​      @thagreenmoon​ @madmaiden2890​     @msella​  @avipshamitra​   @auroraawrites​ @findzelda​  @lizlil​ @siriusmuch​   @chloe-geoghegan1​ @reverse-hxlland​  @may-rapp​ @the-specific-oceans​ @eveft​  @secret-obsessions​

@xkonpinkx​

@littledeadgirlwalking​

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight​

[blitheringmcgonagall]

This is very Christmassy and can be read as a one shot, even though it’s technically from We Can Be Heroes. The start of the chapter includes Snape being an arse, but if you prefer a Snape-Free Christmas, skip it!

 @petals-to-fish​ ....

 Do you want to know how the Marauders told Lily about them being animagi? And how Jily make up after the disastrous double date with Petunia and Vernon? And how Wolstar make the portrait of Godric Gryffindor blush? Here you go, if you want to read some fluffy Christmas Marauders - their last Christmas in Hogwarts...

Christmas Prancing

“Ah, jolly good! There you are, Ms. Evans!” said Professor Slughorn, beaming at her. “I believe this letter arrived for you by muggle post?”

The 7th Years were standing outside the Potions Classroom waiting for him. Lily murmured a quiet thank you, took the letter and tore it open nervously.

“Oh,” she said.

“Well?” said Dorcas, with a worried look. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

“I suppose so, if your sister marrying a berk like Vernon Dursley is considered okay,” she replied, continuing to stare at the letter.

“Your sister is getting married?” said Dorcas.

“Er, yes, she is, on New Year’s Eve,” said Lily, without looking up.

Dorcas and Emmeline looked at each other and shrugged.

“Did you know she was engaged?” asked Dorcas.

“No, not really,” said Lily, looking up briefly. “I’m not really surprised…”

“No, I suppose not,” said Emmeline, patting her shoulder.

“I think I’ll ask her to meet me with James, before Christmas,” she said, looking uncertain. “I’d like to make things better between us, and maybe if I give Vernon a chance and she gives James a chance…”

Emmeline smirked at Dorcas. Potter was clearly not a short-term romance…

“Yeah, the two boyfriends getting to know each other,” she said.

“Yeah, sure, great idea, I’m sure that’ll definitely work,” said Dorcas, who was standing behind Lily, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at Emmeline as Lily spoke.

“What’s a great idea?” said James, coming up and kissing Lily on the cheek and on her forehead.

“Marriage,” replied Dorcas, winking at James and enjoying seeing his face redden slightly.

“Will you come and meet Petunia with me?” Lily asked. “I know it’s a pain-“

“Anything for you!” said James gallantly, trying to sound more interested than he felt.

“I’ll owl her and see what she says!” said Lily with a bright smile.

…………

It hadn’t worked out too well in the end. Petunia had replied by owl (for the first time ever), telling Lily that she was never again to send that screeching beast to her house, and informing her that the only day she was free to meet Lily -“I have more pressing matters to deal with”- was that very evening, “but I warn you, if your boyfriend does anything remotely embarrassing during dinner, I am never speaking to him again”. James was cross because Petunia was being rude to Lily, and he had a Quidditch game the following morning and was meant to be meeting up with his team to discuss tactics, but of course he came. Lily and Petunia sat rigidly through most of the meal, unable to relax. James was visibly amused by Vernon’s crass, materialistic conversation and ended up drinking a couple of glasses of wine in quick succession to cope with the tediousness and the constant glares emanating from Petunia. Vernon countered by trying to make James feel insignificant and making nasty, prejudiced comments about wizards being unemployable. James laughed breezily at that, and commented on his family’s large fortune, in solid gold. The others stared at him as though he had three heads, Lily included. Vernon accused him of being a liar, and James (seeing Lily with tears in her eyes) stupidly decided that the situation would be best addressed by hexing Vernon’s hideous moustache.

Bad move.

By the time they apparated back to Hogsmeade, Lily wasn’t talking to him.

Very Bad Move.

………………………………

There was a definite lack of festive cheer that year. Lily and James, as Head Girl and Head Boy, were expected to remain in Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. Sirius wanted to be with James, obviously, and more especially with Remus.

They all did, Peter included. The date of the full moon in December 1977 was Christmas Day.

It was Christmas Eve, ten days since the Disastrous Tash Attack (as Sirius had taken to calling it), Lily was barely speaking to James and vica-versa. Both behaving like stubborn idiots, according to Dorcas, Emmeline, and the other Marauders. James had decided to throw himself into Quidditch training that evening and drove himself into the ground with a vicious training session, his mood improved by physical activity and his favourite sport. By the time he entered the Gryffindor common room, he was feeling hopeful, despite the DTA. He swung the door open and breezed in.

“Good evening, fellow Marauders!” he said, grinning broadly, his eyes resting on Lily.

His hair was more dishevelled, his Quidditch uniform wet from sleet and sweat, and hugging his figure. Lily looked at him and her heart beat quickened immediately, all angry feelings melting away.

“Look at that cocky strut!” said Peter, grinning at Remus.

“Ah yes, that iconic post-quidditch Potter strut,” said Remus, looking up briefly from the book he was reading and winking at Lily.

“I don’t strut!” laughed James, shaking his head at Remus and flopping down on the couch practically on top of him.

“Get off me! All that muscle weighs a ton!” groaned Remus.

“Ha! That’s a laugh! You used to strut all the time, Prongs,” said Sirius, making room for James and casually leaning back so his shoulder was lightly pressing into Remus.

“I did not!” said James heatedly, throwing the snitch at him.

“Ouch! Uncalled for!” said Sirius snootily, catching the snitch without hesitation.” Lily?”

Lily grinned up at James with a cheeky smile.

“Hell, yes!” she laughed, her eyes dancing with mirth.

Continue reading  Chapter 30: Christmas Prancing

[88missmarauder88]

All right, my dear person who requested this -- this is SO not my wheelhouse, so please... be gentle. :) I did my best! Thanks also to the people who helped me learn some of the fanfic ropes. I now know that this is a

Sirius x Reader sitch that does not include “smut” lol Just loveyness. And apparently, a great big heaping spoonful of fluffiness as well! :)

and hereabouts was the original request:

“Can you do a SiriusxReader with the reader being James' sister and she's figured out she has feelings for Sirius but she's scared to make a move because she doesn't want everybody mad at her? And then they have a moment while they're listening to music or at a concert or something and she thinks maybe he has feelings for her too now?”

You couldn't sleep.

It was becoming more and more common. Depending on your state of mind, you'd either lie motionless, staring at the canopy for hours, or thrash fitfully until passing out near dawn from the sheer exertion of trying. You'd sleepwalk through the following day, quiet and irritable, desperate to climb out of your own head, falling deeper into it every time you remembered there was no one to whom you could turn with your feelings.

Your behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed by your family and friends. James had muttered on more than one occasion that you were turning into Sirius, which certainly did not help. Remus, ever your protector, had tried so many times to talk to you, most recently that very afternoon.

"I know there's something wrong. You know I know there's something wrong, so why won't you just tell me? I'm your best friend."

The look of hurt that passed over his delicate face broke you in two. Merlin knew you wanted to tell him. You were having to dig your fingernails into your thigh, in fact, to keep from just launching yourself into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder, and telling him everything. It would make it all so much easier to bear... but only for you. Because yes, Remus would stroke your hair, and rock you, and tell you everything was going to be all right, and you knew beyond the shadow of a doubt he'd keep your secret. But then it would change his behaviour, even if only subconsciously. And the boys were too in tune with one other, especially these days. They'd notice, they'd demand he tell them what was going on, and he'd find himself in the same position you were in now. You wouldn't wish that misery on him for anything.

"Remus, do you trust me?"

He nodded, but sadly, already knowing what was coming next.

"I'm fine," you said, giving him the most convincing smile you could muster. You knew from the look on his face that you hadn't mustered much at all. "It's nothing I can't handle, all right? And nothing I want you dwelling on. I'll work it out."

Technically, it would have been easier to unburden yourself to Lily, but you didn't see a light at the end of that tunnel, either. She'd never be anything other than supportive, but Lily was a fixer. And considering how much she hated Sirius and your brother, her preferred fix would most likely be to try to talk you out of the whole thing altogether. Then again, maybe you should just let her. As the universe's cruel jokes went, having you fall in... whatever this was you were in with Sirius Black had to be up there on the list.

It certainly hadn't been a conscious effort. In fact, you were entirely baffled as to how it had happened at all, which contributed significantly to your inner turmoil. One minute, you'd been roaming the halls of Hogwarts with your brother and his friends, giggling and trodding on one another underneath the invisibility cloak, popping in and out of secret passages, and celebrating in the Gryffindor common room after pulling off another epic prank. The next, Peter was behaving more and more oddly every day, Remus's transformations combined with the changes his body was undergoing had him in a terrible state, James was either failing miserably at wooing Lily or taking out his frustrations on Severus Snape with little else in between, and Sirius had turned quiet, sullen and moody. And you... you'd woken up one day, walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, and felt your stomach drop into your feet when he glanced up at you.

You'd been exhausting yourself for months trying to reason your way out of it, telling yourself it was just a reaction you were having to his situation. You and Sirius had always been close in that you could open up to one another about the darker aspects of your personalities in ways you couldn't with the others. You both had short fuses and more-destructive-than-average tendencies and devious streaks that frequently tilted more towards reckless abandon than calculated risk, and you were both more than a little afraid of those traits. It was easier -- safer -- to work that out between yourselves. Because of that, you knew quite a bit about Sirius's home life, whereas James, Remus and Peter knew only what Sirius deemed necessary. You knew what had flipped a switch on Sirius's typically overbearing-yet-affable demeanor was nothing short of pure evil. These... feelings were nothing more than your desire to help and protect him manifesting oddly. So what if you felt like the breath had been knocked out of you every time he was within five feet of you, if a shiver went down your spine every time he said your name, if your nerves went haywire every time he touched you. Your friend was drowning, and he wouldn't let you throw him a line -- said it was "too dangerous now" and he didn't want you involved. The rest of this idiocy was just a side effect of your feelings of helplessness.

And now, he was living in your house. Right down the hall.

He'd finally escaped, and you couldn't have been more thrilled, more relieved. When he'd arrived at Potter Manor, you'd flung your arms around him freely, crying softly into the crook of his neck as he gently rubbed your back and assured you that everything was going to be just fine from now on. You didn't feel anything in that moment but the pure, overwhelming affection for your friend you'd felt ever since the day you met him. Foolishly, you thought that would be the end of it. He was safe now. No more need to lie awake at night worrying about what might be happening to him at Grimmauld Place. No more feeling useless. No more feeling frightened. No more feeling.

But you'd been wrong. Whatever it was -- and it was not love, you reminded yourself repeatedly; you knew enough of that concept to know it was supposed to be all googly eyes and hearts skipping beats and butterflies, not this abject terror you were experiencing -- it was persistent. And you'd found yourself simply avoiding him, and, by default, the other boys, while you tried to sort yourself out. It wasn't proving to be a very productive plan of action thus far, but it was all you had.

Sighing, you rolled out of bed, resolved to head to the family library. If you had to be awake, you could at least try to otherwise occupy your mind.

As you made your way down the corridor, faint music caught your attention. Following it, you recognised the band. You listened for a moment more before coming to a halt. You knew where the music would be coming from, and your head told you the last thing you needed right now was to be confronted with the very problem that had you out of bed and wandering the manor at this hour in the first place. Your heart, however, seemed to have other ideas -- and had apparently commandeered your feet, as you suddenly found yourself moving towards the sound once again.

Silently, you turned the knob and cracked the door to Sirius's room. It was dark, but the moonlight spilling in through the window cast sufficient glow. He was seated on the floor, back against the foot of his bed, turntable beside him. He hadn't changed clothes, still clad in the jeans and Queen t-shirt he'd worn that day. As "Can't Get Enough" continued to play, he examined the tracklisting on the back of the album, one with which you were familiar. You'd bought it yourself just a week before, and you'd been excited to get home and play it for him. You knew he'd love it. Instead, he'd smiled at you, and you'd excused yourself to your room for the rest of the day, only partially feigning illness.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you carefully, soundlessly, turned the knob again in order to pull the door back into place.

"You can hear it better from in here, you know."

You jumped, slamming the door loudly in the process.

"Shit!!"

I swear, he's got the wrong Animagus form. Should've been a bloody bat or something.

Embarrassed at being caught, you grappled with the thought of fleeing back to your room, but that would look even stranger than spying on him. Besides, if he thought all you were trying to do was hear the music, there was no reason to be standing here in the hallway, blushing like a complete idiot. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

"You've a right foul mouth on you these days," Sirius chuckled.

"Wonder where I could've gotten that from."

"I'm a perfect angel, just ask your mum."

He looked up at you, pulling a wide-eyed, innocent face. You forced a laugh to accompany the quickly exhaled breath that fled your lungs. The moonlight cascaded across his face, highlighting his handsome features, lending an unearthly shimmer to his dark hair.

An angel. That's exactly what he looks like.

"Can't sleep again?" he asked, turning the music down a bit.

You shook your head, moving to take a seat on the floor opposite him. Instead, he patted the space beside him. "Can't see the liner notes from there," he reasoned. You couldn't seem to feel your legs, but you were grateful when they somehow lowered you onto the spot he indicated rather than dropping you like a wet rag onto the turntable.

Sirius held the album where you could see it, unaware you were already familiar with every track.

"Bad Company. Brand new. I'm into it. There's a tune on here I swear was written specifically about the Marauders," he grinned.

You knew to which song he referred. The title track. Swap "gun" for "wand", and it would be just about spot on. You managed a smile as the opening notes of "Rock Steady", your favourite track, began.

"This is a great one as well," Sirius said, turning the volume back up before settling against the end of his bed. "Lean back," he instructed. "It'll clear your head, I promise."

Sirius had pulled his blankets down to cushion the bed frame, and you pressed yourself into them.

Close my eyes, and I let myself go Listen to, oh, baby, let the music flow

Slowly, your eyelids drooped as you allowed the music to wash over you. It had been impossible lately to focus. Stress, confliction, fear -- they'd all combined to keep your mind swirling constantly, making you feel out of place and confused. At night, with nothing to distract you, it was worse. You felt like you were living multiple lives all at once. But now, with a newly loved song surrounding you as warmly as the soft blankets behind your back, you were nowhere but here.

With him.

You opened your eyes and turned your head to find Sirius staring at you. Inhaling sharply, your body tried to react -- to look away. You needed to look away. Now. But you felt pinned to the spot by his gaze. In the moonlight, his grey eyes were nearly silver, and you had the sensation you were falling into them. You wanted to fight it but found yourself lacking the strength. You realised you weren't breathing. A part of you didn't care. The thought of the pain of the last several months just melting away to nothing seemed incredibly appealing. And he would be the last thing you ever saw.

Turn on your light And stay with me awhile And ease your worried mind Turn on your light And stay with me awhile

You took a slow breath, suddenly wanting to live again.

Numb as you were, you barely felt it when Sirius's arm slipped around your waist, drawing you against his side. You exhaled. You felt miles above your body when your head dropped of its own volition onto his shoulder. You plummeted back down into yourself at the sensation of his cheek coming to rest on your forehead. He reached over with his free hand and gently took yours, slowly interlacing your fingers. You inhaled. He smelled like the cedar trees around the Black Lake after a storm. And firewhisky and tobacco and...

Vice.

A truth at once comforting and terrifying dawned on you: You had never wanted anything more than you wanted to remain in this moment, always... to let time and space and fate crumble around you unnoticed. The burning, tingling pressure in your chest you'd been trying to will away for weeks now finally broke through your barriers, but not as the despairing flood you'd expected; instead, as a slow seep into every empty corner of your being. A completion.

Please... oh, please no... it can't be...

For all the world's romantic fairy tales, surely love could not be as simple as a tinderbox boy and a paperdoll girl, broken in the same hidden places, trying to hold one another together to the pulsing rhythm of a dirty guitar.

But it is...

The answer echoed through your mind as the song ended and a new one began, and you both slipped silently into sleep.

[the-swedish-shortsnout]

One hundred percent

Fandom: Harry Potter | Marauders

Summary: A small little story about the marauders in the end of their fourth year, planning their final steps towards becoming animaguses that I thought I would share. Focuses on friendship and banter. Might expand the story some day

Characters: Marauders Sirius, James, Remus and Peter along with Lily Evans, Snape, Avery and Professor Slughorn

”Come on guys! We've been studying for this for nearly 3 years.” James belted out in frustration. They’d been going through how to apprehend the mandrake leaf the entire evening and yet their plan was nowhere near being finished.

”Homework’s too difficult for you, Potter?” Lily Evans voice spoke smugly behind them. She leaned over mockingly, her red her brushing over his shoulder in the process. James blushed. Sirius however, still level-headed instinctively slammed the Animagi book shut, hitting James hand in the process. Of course the covers didn’t say The book of Animagi any longer but one could never be too careful.

”Aoutch!” James yelled irritably, retracting his hand. Sirius ignored him.

”What are you boys making anyway?” Lily asked sounding somewhere between taunting and curious. “Terms nearly over you know, so starting to study for your exams is a little late.”

”It’s a love potion.” Peter said quickly to everyone’s surprise.

”A what now?!” Lily looked at James with disgust stepping away from him at once.

”It's not for you of course!” James said at once, slightly red in the face and aiming a kick towards a petrified Pettigrew that hit Remus instead. Lupin ignored it, thinking he somehow probably deserved it.

”It better not be Potter, or I'll make sure to have you expelled!” Lily snapped and strode off, nose in the air and with an expression of pure disgust on her face. James gave her a painful look as if torn between running after her to apologise or taking his anger out on Peter. He chose the latter.

”You IDIOT!” he shouted. ”Lily is going to think that I'm trying to poison her now.” He pulled his hair in despair. This evening was not going to plan at all.

”Well, at least she doesn’t know what we're actually doing.” Remus said quietly but the boys heard him all the same. He was worried about his friends and what could possibly happen to them if they got caught trying to become illegal animaguses or worse, if something went wrong during the process. Surely he wasn’t worth all of this trouble. Still, he appreciated it never the less.

”Coming to think of it, that was actually some quick thinking from your side Peter.” Sirius said sounding rather impressed, although he mainly did so to tease James. His friend let it slide. ”Maybe I should make you carry the leaf in your mouth for a month during the school year after all.” James said cruelly. ”That way you wouldn't be able to come up with any more clever ideas. It's very out of character for you Peter. Someone might get suspicious.” Peter winced.

”As tempting as that sounds..” Sirius butted in before Peter started to take actual offense by James lady frustrations, ”having an actual reason not to speak to my family all summer is too good to give up.” He tossed his black locks of hair out of the way with and threw Remus a reassuring smile as if to tell him that he was actually up for doing this. One hundred percent. ”I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well the rest of you better come up with some good exudes.” said Remus anxiously but he returned Sirius smile. ”Not that I’m forcing you to.” he added quickly.

”Lupin.” James interrupted, his focus finally back where it belonged. ”We're doing this mate. One hundred percent.” Peter nodded enthusiastically. ”Even If my future wife disowns me before we're even married.” Everyone sighed loudly. ”you're worth it mate.”

”Besides” Sirius butted in before James started going on about Evans again for the billionth time. ”I could just tell her that the love potion is for my brother, trying to make him fancy our house-elf or something.” He grinned and the others laughed, thinking for a second that that might not actually be such a bad idea after all. Lily didn’t like Rugulus , so that she probably wouldn’t mind.

“Alright.” James said finally dropping all thoughts of Lily. “Let’s go over the plan once again.” They all huddled together. “Peter, before the diversion you need to sneak into Professor Slughorn and nick the leaves. Do you know how many pieces you need to get.”

“Yes, six. Once each and then one backup just in case. I do remember that you know, since you told me like a hundred times.” Peter said irritably. “I still don’t understand why I have to be the one to do it. I get so nervous when stealing stuff.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” Remus muttered but they all ignored him.

“It has to be you, since you’d be the only one he’d believe if you told him you got the wrong thing out of the cupboard, getting mandrake leaves mixed up with snakeskin.” James interrupted.  

“Sorry Professor, they’re both sooo shiny!” Sirius said mockligly.

“I’m not that stupid!” Peter protested but laughed with the others all the same.

“We know.” James assured him. “But considering how your potions exam went, old Slughorn’s bound to think so.”

“I misread the instructions.” Peter muttered. “It wasn’t my fault that my cauldron exploded.” he said bitterly.

“What we need to focus on now is what kind of distraction to use.”  Sirius interrupted before James lost his focus again. This was a serious mission. They couldn’t mess it up. They needed good cover if something did went wrong but nothing too obvious to be remembered by. He looked at Remus. Full moon had not been that long ago. This was important. Their most important step so far.

“We could just hex Snivulus.” James suggested. “One needs to use the opportunity, soon we won’t see him every day after all.” Sirius laughed loudly.

“I don’t think that will get you back into Lily’s good book.” Remus pointed out.

“Alright, alright, here’s what we’ll do…”

“Lily, please!” Remus begged her. “We’re partners, we need to co-operate or we’ll never finish in time.” She remained silent, making it very obvious that she’d refuse to talk to him for the rest of the class. “Oh, come on. Are you really going to let me stand in the way of you getting a perfect mark?” She sighed.

“It’s just hard for me to believe that you would agree to this.” Lily said sternly.

“Well, James isn’t that great at potions.” Remus couldn’t help himself. He liked Lily. Not the way James did, although considering how he behaved a part of him hoped that he never would fancy anyone that way anyway. She was always very kind to him and could be quite funny and she was definitely a more brilliant potions partner than Peter had ever been to him. She’d helped him loads this year. “It’s funny!” he explained. “Cos, you know he's family are really famous potions makers after all. Being good at potions is supposed to be in his blood.”

“Well I wouldn’t really know about that sort of thing.” she muttered, obviously still angry and threw in some more dragonroots into their cauldron that nearly made its content splatter over them.

“You know that’s not the thing I was talking about.” Remus gave her an endearing look. Surly she knew that her blood status wasn’t something that would ever bother him. She sighed.

“Stir a little more please.” she finally gave in. Remus did as he was told. He checked his watch. Seven more minutes until distraction time. His task was to distract Lily, just in case, as she might be clever enough to figure out that they were up to something and he had made it his personal mission to make her like him again.

“Look, I know you’re not going to believe anything positive I’d say about James...” he began carefully, not bothering to dance around his friends supposed mistake any longer.

“That would be correct.” Lily replied coolly.

“But he wouldn’t try to win you over with a love potion. That’s not his style.”

“It’s awful, just like he is. See how I made those two connections.” It was awful, he thought to himself as he hadn’t quite thought about it before. Being forced into fancying someone with no power to say no didn’t seem like something very pleasant. Suddenly he felt for her for being so upset.

“It’s not James’s style.” he defended his friend, though thinking he’d use him for curse practice if ever would be. “He’d want to win you over properly, so that he could boast about how his charm finally one to everyone that would be near enough to hear. Not cheat with some potion. It wouldn’t count.” He explained. “I’m not saying that that’s a great thing.” Remus added quickly. Lily laughed, finally.

“You’re such idiots.” She concluded. “I think you can stop stirring now.” She added. “It’s supposed to simmer for a little bit.” He did as he was told.

“So what are you boys up to if you’re not planning to poison me then?” she asked sternly.

“Well.” Remus leaned towards her. “we were planning to play a little prank on Sirius younger brother, as punishment for him being such a pureblooded git, by making him fancy their house elf during the summer.” Lily giggled. “Of course, it’s turning out to be tricky since they’re not the same species. Not that he’s too worried over something going wrong.” They both laughed.

“They’re really scary, his family, aren’t they?” Lily asked, lowering her voice.

“Can’t say, I’ve never really met them properly. He’ll be fine tho.” He threw Sirius a look. Sometimes he did wonder just what kind of horrors he had to endure back home. He was always so sarcastic whenever he spoke of them, but as Remus knew all to well himself sarcasm could be a good defence mechanism.

“Well I make sure to avoid them.” She admitted. Their eyes met and he noticed that she actually looked quite worried. “I know that’s not very Gryffindor like of me, but in times like these you can’t be too sure, considering what my parents are and so on.” Remus understood what she meant. Scary things we’re going on outside the walls of Hogwarts. “I think it’s brave of you to act on behalf of what’s best for them.” he told her honestly.  “I don’t think you’d have to worry too much about Sirius’s parents tho. They’re not the type that would enjoy getting their hands dirty. Not that you are.” Remus added quickly. Lily gave him an reassuring look. It must be difficult for her, he thought to himself. If something were to happen, if they came, not that they would, but if they did her muggle parents wouldn’t being able to help defending her and defending them would be entirely up to her. Of course nothing would happen. Not yet at least. “I’m sure you’ll be alright.” Lily nodded.

“Interrupting something?” Sirius asked teasingly. Lily sighed.

“Don’t let James hear you use that kind of talk.” Remus looked at his watch again, cursing himself for worrying too much about Lily’s deatheater problems to remember to keep track of time. Sure enough, he could see Peter sneaking off towards the ingredients storage just like they had planned.

“Mind if I borrow these?” he said before snatching Remus’s newly cutup roots right in front of him.

“Are you serious?” Remus said annoyingly. He’d spent a long time cutting up those. His arm aced from an ugly cut his other self had obtained the previous full moon and hiding it from Lily had only been possible do to her efforts to ignore him.

“I am Sirius.” he answered. Both Remus and Lily rolled their eyes. “Please, I need them to rescue our potion before Peter shows up and destroys the entire thing again.” He nodded towards their table. “He's off getting more snakeskin since the last piece he tried to add accidentally caught fire.” Sirius said rather loudly. Their potion would be the distraction but only because Sirius had gotten the permission from James to complain loudly about it so that it wouldn’t affect his grade.

“It took me ages to cut up those!” Remus protested, stretching after the roots as Sirius quickly jumped out of his reach winking at him.

“What happened!?!” Lily almost shouted. Remus looked confused. Then he realised that his sleeve had slid down, exposing his wound.

“Oh, nothing.” he tried to ensure her. “I just injured myself.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Lily said sarcastically. “Here, take my roots. I prepared them last lesson, but I was too mad at you to not let you chop your own.” she said looking rather sorry about that now. “It looks really bad.”

“It’s nothing, Remus said uncomfortably, checking to see where Slughorn was positioned simultaneously. He found him far away from Peter, standing bent over a classmate’s cauldron in the opposite end of the classroom. It’s content had started producing thick, yellow bubbles that kept floating up in the air, which Remus was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be doing. “I got smacked by the Whomping Willow practicing quidditch with James.” Remus explained vaguely. It wasn’t the first time he had used this excuse. “Sirius was in detention.” he added. “Apparently the tree a great substitute for bludgers.”

“Apparently you’re not very great at avoiding them.” Lily said. “Here. Add these and stir clockwise whilst you do.” she handed him her roots. “I’m gonna go find you some sap for your wound. Slughorn won’t mind when it’s me asking.”

“Thank you.” He said and truly meant it, although deep down he knew that there where nothing in this world that would ease the pain caused by a werewolf injury. Those simply had to heal by themselves. He watched her whilst adding the roots just like she’d told him. She passed Snapes table two rows in front of theirs. He stood up as she passed him, bumping his knee on the table.

“I’ll walk with you.” he said, turning slightly red. Remus wondered why he always had to put his nose in things it doesn’t belonged, worried that he would eventually find out the truth about him. The thought made his stomach turn unpleasantly. Peter remerged from the storage and slipped something to James as he passed them. No one had seen. Remus took a deep breath and went back to watching Lily who, for some reason seemed to enjoy Snape’s company. Maybe their little distraction wouldn’t be necessary after all?

“Practicing muggle studies, Severus? Watch out or you’ll get dirty.” another Slytherin student called Avery shouted as he passed him and Lily talking to one another. A roar of laughter erupted. Then three things happened very quickly. Lily grabbed a nearby weighing scale standing on the table in front of her and smashed it over his face with all the force she could fathom. Remus winced at the sound of bone breaking. He knew it too well. Simultaneously James, who of course was always watching Lily, fired a curse that hit Snape instead which resulted in him flying into Avery. They collided so harshly that Avery fell into the yellow bubbling cauldron Remus had watched before. Snape, rather taken aback managed to shout PROTEGO just in time to keep him and Lily, who was still holding the brass measuring scale in a tight grip from getting splattered. Avery screamed in terror and pain, trying to get the essence of potion off him.

“Now, NOW, children!” shouted Professor Slughorn, obviously destressed over the sudden chaos that had erupted in his classroom. He made the potion vanish with a quick swish of his wand. All of Avery’s hair in the areas it had touched seemed to have fallen off. The hairs that remained sprouted the same yellow colour has the bubbles had had. Everyone in the classroom started laughing at his distressed reaction to this. Lily sat back down next to him.

“Are you alright?” he whispered. “That hit was nothing less than he deserved.”

“They’re going to expel me.” She whispered sounding very distressed. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“They most certainly won’t. Besides, Slughorn loves you, he’ll make sure you stay the victim of this. Anyway, I think that hit was brilliant!” Remus told her reassuringly. They both winced at the sound of Avery’s nose being fixed.

“Can’t believe it all worked out!” James said happily. The four of them were chilling back in the boys bedroom. “And I even got to hex Snape without getting into detention.” He smiled brightly. “Poor Lily tho.” his smile faded at once thinking about her. “That Avery fool didn’t get nearly as bad a punishment that he deserved.” He muttered bitterly.

“She can fend for herself, clearly.” Sirius pointed out. They’d been talking about the events during potions class all throughout the day and he didn’t feel like relapsing on the topic, even though he of course agreed that what’d happened had been awful.

“And I got the leaves!” Peter added excitedly. “And we didn’t even have to sacrifice my potion.” He added, happy with the outcome.

“Well then.” James said, handing out the leaves, two to Peter and two to Sirius, keeping two to himself. One to use and one for backup. “We all know what to do. Keep the leaves in your mouth for one month without anyone noticing. You can’t take it out, bite it or swallow it or it won’t work. Is that clear?” he asked them both, but mostly looking at Peter, who started to seem nervous. “Timing that with the date we go back to Hogwarts. As soon as we arrive, we sneak over to the screaking shack using the invisibility cloak whilst everyone else is busy getting to the castle, putting our leaves directly into the potion that we’ve prepared. After that only a few steps remain until we become the youngest animaguses in recorded history!” he smiled excitedly. Peter winced.

“And, making us able to be together every day of the month.” Sirius added and grabbed Remus by the neck. “Like true brothers should!” Lupin blushed as his three best friends clinked their stolen butterbeers together. He knew they were being silly but yet his eyes started feeling a bit watery all of the sudden.

“For Remus!” Peter said.

“For Remus!” James and Sirius joined in and the three of them howled together.

“Guys! Someone could hear you…” Remus protested, although somewhat amused. All this time Sirius hadn’t let go if his shoulder.

“We’re with you man. I’m Sirius.” he told him.

“Booooo!” shouted James and Peter together. It was nothing but reflex for them to do so nowadays whenever he told them that joke. Sirius grinned and shook his shoulder.

“One hundred percent!” Remus smiled right back at them.

“One hundred percent.”

[badwolf256]

The Trip

Pairing: Severus/Lily

Rating: M

Genre: Angst, Fluff, AU-ish?

Chapters: 1/?

Word Count:

Summary: Distantly it occurs to her that whatever they are, they definitely shouldn’t be talking about it here.

Author’s Note: I had a hard time deciding if this was going to be put in as AU or not. Honestly? I personally have a hard time with something like this not happening at some point during the Marauders-era, what with all the field trips I had to take for school, so an event like this, even if it isn’t necessarily what I portray here, has always been canon to me. But I know that most people probably don’t have the same feelings about this as I do, so I’ve listed it as AU-ish. It’s up to you to decide.

She doesn’t know why he just calls it ‘the trip’. He’s packed meticulously for it, of course, Sev being Sev, organizing books and parchment and Potions’ ingredients into separate compartments in his trunk. She doesn’t see the point in all this needless preparation: She ends up throwing whatever she thinks she’ll need in willy-nilly, and when he comes to give her his ‘professional’ advice on whether she should bring her winter cloak or not, he wrinkles his nose.

“Like you’re one to talk.” She throws back at him, airing a pointed glance at his hair, earning a glower.

“Not all of us are gifted.”

“So what you’re really saying,” She picks up, three days later, “Is that not everyone’s mastered the complex art of shampoo?”

“Don’t you have other things to worry about? We’re leaving in a week.”

She takes her chances, flashes him a grin.

“Yeah. You should probably wash your hair first.”

And then she tears off across the courtyard, looking back to see him standing, sighing, with his head in his hands.

To be fair, they’re not the only ones getting ready for the trip. Ever since headmaster Dumbledore’s announcement that Beauxbatons would be hosting them to ‘aid in the understanding of different aspects of the wizarding world’(Or something equally academic and, by the students of Hogwarts, at least, equally ignored.) the castle had transformed into a frenzy of asking permission and getting ready and lamenting(Over what, Lily isn’t sure.).

One Sunday, a weekend after the announcement, a regal black owl deposits twelve- Twelve!- cardboard boxes from a high-end wizarding department store in London land in front of Lucius Malfoy at the Slytherin table.

“I don’t even know why he needs twelve. You should see his wardrobe.”

“Mm.” She hums contentedly against his chest, tempted to fall asleep in the warmth of him. “My parents didn’t even send me- You know what. Forget about it.” Then he does that Sev thing, the one where he looks down as if ashamed for having brought it up, and she takes it upon herself to do her own, distinctly Lily thing, and pulls herself up and embraces him. Tightly.

“Fuck them.”

His eyes widen. She feels it.

“Lily.”

“No, seriously. Fuck them. None of them are going to care one whit about Beauxbatons besides… I don’t know, besides, ‘look, there’s ice on the walls!’. I mean, it is going to be spectacular. But not because there’s ice on the walls. There’ll be like, a million books in the library for you, and probably a million different Potions recipes for you to try.”

“What are you doing in this scenario?”

“Besides annoying the fuck out of you? I don’t know. Reading up. It’s French, Severus! I’ll have an unprecedented opportunity to learn about French things, Petunia’s going to be so jealous.”

At this, he pulls back from her, and rolls his eyes- Literally rolls them.

“Of course you would think about that.”

(Dunderhead, he adds, silently. She hears it anyway.)

“Okay, though. It’s payback for last Christmas.”

“What happened last Christmas?”

“I thought I- Okay, so basically, my parents came and picked me up from the train station, and when I got home there were pentagrams drawn all over the door and salt lining the windows, and at the time none of us knew why, so we go inside, and find my sister performing some discount demon banishing spell she got off, I don’t know, a drug dealer or something. She sees me, and she screams, and then she turns to our mother and says, “I’m sorry, I thought it would work!”. And I was just standing there, right, and then I realize, I was the demon she was trying to banish. It was so Petunia, really, that I can’t even be mad at her anymore, but it… At the time, it hurt really badly.”

“She crossed the line.”

He is completely serious when he says it, and she gets the uncomfortable, burning feeling that he wants to go to her house and punch her sister in the jaw.

“Like I said, payback.”

She leaves it there, but she knows, when she catches him looking at her with this mix of… A lot of things, that it isn’t over for him. Not that she was expecting anything different- Sev projects. Acts like everything bad that happens to her is an end-of-the-world crisis, probably to distract himself from the fact that his entire life is an end-of-the-world crisis. It’s one of his coping mechanisms. His best coping mechanism, actually, outside of the Dark Arts, so she’s more than relieved to see him leaning on it. Still, she can’t help but wish he didn’t look at her like that-

Like. Like she’s something that needs to be protected. Like he’s sorry for her. He should be sorry for himself. But she’ll never tell him that, because even though she knows, he’s made it clear to her that she isn’t supposed to know, or, at least, she’s supposed to pretend that she doesn’t know.

She keeps silent.

Keeps an eye out at the Gryffindor table, instead. Watches as Sirius gets Regulus to send the permission slip to some obscure relative who’s not his mother, because there’s no way in hell that Walburga Black is going to let her son go to some foreign country when he can’t even behave in his own. Potter, meanwhile, is bent over a list of what she strongly suspects to be pranks, mainly, pranks he’s planning for the visit. Remus sits glumly, looking off to the distance at something only he can see.

In the end, Remus is the one that she feels the most sorry for her. He reminds her a lot of Sev, sometimes.

She doesn’t talk to him.

Ravenclaw, as a whole, has decided to organize a foreign trivia competition. Kingsley tries to get her to join, but she declines. She hardly knows any trivia, and she’ll be busy with Sev the whole time, so there’d be no use in it. Surprisingly, a few of the Hufflepuffs decide to join.

Then there are the Slytherin kids.

It seems as though everyone in Slytherin house(Other than Sev)(Hopefully)is gearing up to advance their Dark Arts knowledge over the five days they’ll be traveling. She sees Bellatrix Black chatting with a sneer on her face about all the good curses she’ll be taught that will help her ‘deal with the Mudbloods.’ She sees, too, the slight clenching of Sev’s jaw when she says it, which gives Lily something like hope to take with her.

It’s a lonely week, that week before Beauxbatons. Without Sev. A productive week, but a lonely one, still.

Thankfully, having a best friend means unspoken rules, and unspoken rules means the third to last train compartment. Unspoken rules also meant that, as usual, Sev was there before her, for some amount of time long enough to get unashamedly engrossed in a Middle Eastern magical theory book while she was still dragging her trunk down from Gryffindor Tower.

“I got you Every Flavour Beans.” He says, by way of greeting.

“Bad idea, Sev. They are every flavor.”

“Yes, well. Have fun with them.” He turns a page, and Lily decides that, since they’re going to Beauxbatons and all that, he shouldn’t waste a minute of the train ride reading. Especially not something as dry looking as Middle Eastern magical theory.

She takes his book from him.

“Lily…”

“Come on, Sev! You can’t just get me Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and not be prepared to be looped into a bean eating contest.”

“I don’t like Every Flavour Beans.” He says, as if he’s explaining it to an eleven year old- Funny, he explained it the exact same way when they were eleven.

“Then why did you get me any?”

Suddenly his gaze drops, and Lily curses under her breath. She’s landed on a we-don’t-talk-about it topic. She knows the answer already. Sev’s always done this, ever since he could. She thinks it has to do with the fact that nobody ever got him anything when he was young, that he feels like he has to get things for her.

“I’m sorry. I forgot- You’re right. I shouldn’t-”

“What’s the first one, then?”

“Sev-”

“The first bean. Hand it over, or forever hold your silence.”

Lily has the sudden urge to slap him for giving in so easily. Or do… Something. Press for more, maybe? See how far her luck will get her? But no. It’s never good to do that with Sev. She just has to take what she can get. And what she can get, she’s learned, throughout several years of playing this game with herself, is tricking him into eating a vomit flavoured bean, right off the bat.

“That wasn’t fair, Lily.”

“You’re a sore loser, Sev.”

“Oh, so I’ve lost now?”

“First one to give away the fact that they didn’t like the bean loses. It’s wizard, isn’t it?”

“No. And really, ‘it’s wizard?’”

“You lot say ‘Merlin’ all the time.”

“You lot?”

“Sorry. Our lot. Guess Petunia’s rubbed off on me.”

“Merlin.” Severus says, and she laughs, knowing that she’s won.

Years later, when she looks back on it, it’s the train ride she’ll remember. How they laughed. How they were Lily-and-Sev, and how neither of them knew at all that they wouldn’t be, soon.

[vermiculus-incipiens]

OOC INFORMATION:

What's your name? Elm.

Preferred pronouns: She/hers.

Timezone: CET (CEST during summer).

IC INFORMATION:

Character Name: Sirius III Orion Black.

What's a hobby or pastime that your character enjoys? The pulse beating hard as the sweat runs down your neck, lungs aching for air, your steps only guided by the moonshine; in the darkness, everything can be a foe, a friend, and the rush of adrenaline of the potential threat makes Sirius feel alive, makes his ever present-fears and high alert reasonable, for a change. The roaring of the engine, straddling the beauty, spoiled with time and money. Freedom, his mind screams as he takes to the roads, soaring in every twist of the road, feeling like gravity wants to pull him off the road. And that pleasant surge of… feelings; fear, happiness, freedom again, when the wheels lift, and he takes to the air, the sky above. Anything's possible, then, in the company of the stars, and he's one of them. Despite what they say, and as they'd always had said. Books weren't a thing that Remus had introduced in Sirius's life; he had often loved browsing the rows of bookshelves in the library back in the house he had spent his childhood. The titles, the covers of the books always held so much mystery, so much potential. Adventures inspire dangerous thoughts, ideas and philosophies to nurture them. Of course, Orion and Walburga hadn't housed books that rallied in defence of the Muggles and the marginalised but reading about how purists wanted the world to behave, indeed, helped create a rebel. Sirius likes books, still. Pamphlets penned by rebels and activists, stories about the bleakness of the world, the injustice, but he equally loved the fiction, the adventures, the classics. When his mind allows him the peace to sit down, it never really does. Drawing, then. It lets his energy out through the movements of his hand, yet it requires the form of attention that Sirius desires, that kind of where he just gets wrapped up in something and forget about anything else but to be in the here and now. His running and motorcycling do that, yes, but not in the same tranquil triumph of drawing, of finishing a piece.

Do you have any preferred ships or anti-ships? Ships I can name that I like are Sirius/Remus and James/Sirius. However, I'm open-minded. I am open to the possibility of any ship, no matter gender and sex, and I do not have any known anti-ships.

What do you think your character's Boggart would be? If their greatest fear isn't something that could easily take a solid form, what is it? Why? A gravestone with James Potter carved into it. That is Sirius's fear. He is not having James in his life. It's possibly quite possessive, and it is very unhealthy, his dependency on James. But James, James brought life. Who would Sirius be if he hadn't met James? James showed him what unconditional love is and how a healthy home life looks. James made it possible for Sirius to turn into the person he wanted instead of the statue his parents had tried to chisel him into. So a life without James? Sirius can hardly picture it. No, that's not true; he can picture it. Does it often. Imagines how he would find out James had died on a mission or been hunted down or that James would tire of Sirius and his moods, his inability to become this good, righteous person that he and Remus were, that he wouldn't be able to cope anymore with Sirius' addictions and traumas and the various ways they manifest themselves. The absence of James, then, more than some finite gravestone. James exists in his memories, only.

What's your character's biggest pet peeve? People assuming that they know him or that they are friends. Sirius has an outgoing, easygoing personality. He likes to chat and have fun, but just because you are one of the pub mates or someone Sirius talks to doesn't mean that you know him or are friends. Relationships are something Sirius isn't good at all, neither handling them, maintaining them or accepting them and letting them get close. He's very ambivalent about the relationships in his life, and the only friends he acknowledges as thus are the Marauders and Lily. All the other people in his life? Well, they are… people in his life. Terms such as friendship or lovers are just too much, making stuff real and scary and bothersome. He also dislikes when people assume to know who he is simply by the name he bears.

What would you consider to be an eccentricity of your character? Sirius deviates from the established pattern or norm in that he tries to unsubscribe from the norms of society. It isn't easy, especially when it comes to matters like purity and superiority and the importance of your family name, but more manageable when it comes to other things. In today's terms, Sirius would probably label himself as pansexual, genderfluid and/or non-binary. Sirius doesn't care about your sex and gender, but your heart, soul and brain and he can't understand why certain clothes or hobbies or mannerisms should only be worn/done/acted by men or women. Sirius certainly would have been part of the flower power movement if he had been a teen and young adult in the '60s. Why shouldn't he be able to wear that skirt, or have flowers in his hair, or paint his nails, or use makeup? What's wrong with shagging a bloke or loving him, or a girl, or multiple people at once? Gender is a social construct, don't you know.

What is/was your character's favorite subject in school? Why? Transfiguration, because Professor McGonagall became a sort of mother figure for him, and he liked the challenges of transfiguration and the brain work it required. Charms, because it was fun and whimsical yet complex to keep his interest. Care of Magical Creatures because it was outdoors, practical, and a 'nonsense' subject that had irked his parents he had picked instead of something more beneficial.

What time of day is your character's favorite? What time of year? Dawn, because the troubles of the night are being chased away, and before him, an unkissed promise is blossoming. Sirius likes most of the seasons for what they are. Although summers are still tainted by the anxiousness of returning to the house for many years, it is also the buzzing, giddy sense of freedom, life ahead, and camaraderie and acceptance. But autumn is possibly the one Sirius enjoys the most. It's something comforting and reassuring with the world preparing to go to sleep only to blossom come spring, and besides being the time he, at last, went back to Hogwarts, he likes the cosiness of it. Tea and blankets and the rain is chattering on the windows. The crisp air, the colours. The feeling that you're about to keep walking down the path where you, at last, will find the life you're seeking to live.

What's your character's Patronus? If they can't conjure one, what would it be if they could? Why? A big, black dog, like his animagi form.

What is your character's biggest vice (bad habit or immoral craving)? Oh, what isn't. Substance abuse, arrogance, prejudice, black&white worldview, rashness to the point of danger for him and/or others, a streak of cruelty and coldness and not caring what happens to relationships and people, hot-tempered, selfish to a degree.

Is your character an introvert or extrovert? How well do they handle social situations? Sirius is an extrovert. Since childhood, he has been trained to be able to socialise, carry conversations, and be a good representative as the heir of the Black house. Luckily for him, he wasn't an introvert forced to be a people person; Sirius was born an extrovert. He handles loneliness poorly, yet he craves it as he oft pushes people away that gets too close. He is the one that wants to spend all the time with you to the point you tire and enjoy some alone time. He is scared of abandonment and becomes too clingy and invested in the few relationships he cares about. Sirius always has no problems being social around the clock; he can be charming, fun, and charismatic. You have a higher chance of getting that good side if he wants you to have that experience.

What is your character's diet like? What's his or her favorite food? Oh, piss poor. Sirius has never had to learn to cook for himself. At home, they had the house-elves, at school, they had the house-elves, when he lived with the Potters, well, they had Mrs. Potter (and house-elves, if they had them). He ate reasonably well back then, but his diet went to hell as soon as he got his flat from the inheritance when he was 17. A cig and a coffee for breakfast, and often that could be pretty much it for the day. If it isn't, it's takeaways or dinner at the pubs and restaurants or perhaps a toast or two at home. He loves the Sunday roasts at the Potters, and he misses the Beef Wellington and Trifles from home.

How do you think your character's psychological issues have manifested and changed your character up to this point? Sirius has always lived with psychological issues. Sirius's disorganised attachment to his parents growing up has shaped Sirius and his changes up to adulthood. Sirius has always felt anxiety during mellow, peaceful moments and usually tends to busy himself to push away the problematic emotions he doesn't want to deal with. He tends to feel sad and empty even though James and the Marauders show their support and love for him. Sirius doesn't trust easily and is hyper-vigilant about his surroundings, another reason he has such trouble relaxing. He has a tendency to be drawn to harmful situations and bad people for the thrill. The rush of feeling alive and the relationships he has in various degrees of success has often been with other people with similar issues that can manage on their own and want to manage on their own and in that way doesn't have any demands on him. Closeness to Sirius has come to be connected with something dangerous, threatening due to him never knowing in what mood his parents would be and what emotions and reactions he would meet in his interactions with them. When he's facing similar situations now as an adult that feels similar to the experiences of his past, and it can suddenly feel not like a typical argument between two adults but flashbacks to his childhood, causing him to react in defence in the way he did as a child; rebellion, anger, coldness, withdrawal. Sirius often makes himself emotionally unavailable and has plenty of sexual contacts, be it temporary liaisons or longer relationships. Sirius hasn't changed but instead adopted the issues he's had to deal with since childhood. It's always been a part of him. He doesn't recognise his various coping mechanisms and the way he acts as something necessarily caused by his traumas and experiences throughout his life. His quick temper, his taste for recklessness, his desire to both be loved and be close to someone and push them away and emotionally shut down, his streaks of coldness and carelessness, his prejudices, his whole personality and worldview, it all has turned the way it has due to the life he has lived.

 Give us a headcanon for your character. Anything is acceptable. Sirius misses his family. He wishes that he could feel indifference towards them because that would mean he had no emotions invested at all in them any longer, but he doesn't. Anger and hatred, yes, but also longing, wistfulness, a bit of love, too. Growing up in the Black household was traumatic; it was full of superiority, blood purity, dark artefacts, and people not knowing how to express emotions and maintain relationships healthily. But they were also a family, a family unit. The best family, the Royals of the British Wizarding community. It was them against everyone else. And a mother's love towards her sons and a desire to make them as best as they could be in her mind. And a father whose approval and pride made you feel like you were tumbling in the night sky they all worshipped so much. Christmases with aunts and uncles and cousins and luxurious Christmas food, presents, and what felt like some warmth and love and doting underneath the scheming, the properness, the cold masks, the closed-off-ness so to be able to behave as one ought to, no matter if it was towards a child, family or the rest of society. Yes, Sirius misses it. Sometimes wonder if he indeed chose the right path; what would he have become if he hadn't willed the Sorting Hat to be placed in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, the Hat's first suggestion? He would have been a Prince, but would he feel complete? Would he feel like he had found his place in the world? Would he feel not restless, for once?

[authormitchel-blog]

P.O.A: Part 6

Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless; he smiled at the class as they took their seats, Nott waved at him.

            “I’m glad you’re back, sir,” said Nott.

“Me too, Theodore, thank you for the get well note, it was very appreciated.”

            “You’re welcome, sir,” said Nott. “Ah, Mrs. Davis,” Professor Lupin acknowledged her raised hand.

            “Um, Professor about the paper Professor Snape assigned us, I didn’t….”

            “It’s okay,” Professor Lupin said. “You don’t have to worry about the essay, but,” he said looking at Malfoy. “If you have already done it, I will count it to you as extra credit.”

            When class ended Lupin called after Harry. “I’d like a word, if you don’t mind Harry.”

“Sure,” Harry nodded. “Are you all right?” said Harry, sitting on the couch. “I’m fine, Professor.”

            Lupin smiled at him, letting the lie lay. “Sir, it was the dementors.”

“Yes, I don’t think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time…furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds.”

            “Yes,” said Harry. “But why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just….”

“It has nothing to do with weakness,” said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Harry’s mind. “The dementors affect you worse than others because there are horrors in your past that the others don’t have. Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places and glory in decay. They drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Muggles can feel them, they just can’t see them. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself…soulless and evil. The leave you with nothing but your worst experiences. And what happened to you Harry, that’s enough to hurt anyone. You have nothing to feel ashamed of.”

            Harry started at Lupin’s desk, his throat tight.

“When they get near me I can hear Voldemort. I can hear him murdering my mum.”                                  Lupin reached out and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. He pulled back.

“Why did they come to the match?”

            “They’re getting hungry. Dumbledore won’t let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up. I don’t think they could resist the large crowd around the pitch. All that excitement, emotions running high….it was their idea of a feast.”

            “Azkaban must be horrible,” Harry muttered. Lupin nodded firmly. “The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea but they don’t need walls when their prisoners are all trapped inside their own heads incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.”

            “But Sirius Black escaped from them. He got away.”

Lupin’s briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it. “Yes, Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn’t have believed…. Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of their power if they are too long in their presence.”

            “But you…” started Harry. “On the train..”

            “Yes, there are certain defenses one can use.”

Then Lupin seemed to study him again, his tie and the cut on his cheek that he hadn’t bothered to get healed.

            “I could teach you?” Lupin offered.

“Really?” asked Harry.

            “I don’t pretend to be an expert at fighting dementors, Harry, quite the contrary, but…” The man seemed to stop and think.

            “But you need to be able to defend yourself so if you want to lear….”

“I want to learn,” interrupted Harry. “When can we start?”

            Professor Lupin seemed to consider him.

“It’ll have to be after the holidays. It seems as if I have chosen a very inconvenient time to fall ill.”   

            What with the promise of anti-dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that he might never have to hear his mother’s death again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, Harry’s mood took a definite upturn even if he still wasn’t allowed to visit Hogsmeade.

            On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry bid good-bye to his friends, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back to the dungeons. Snow had started to fall outside the window, and the castle was very still and quiet.

            “Psst…. Harry!”

He turned, hallway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George, peering out at him from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

            “What are you doing?” said Harry curiously. “How come you’re not going to Hogsmeade?”

            “We’ve come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go,” said Fred, with a mysterious wink. “Come in here….”

            He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed witch. Harry followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at Harry.

            “Early Christmas present for you, Harry,” he said.

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it one of the desks. It was a large, square, and very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. Harry, suspecting one of Fred and George’s jokes, stared at it.

            “What’s that supposed to be?”

“This, Harry, is the secret of our success,” said George, patting the parchment fondly.

            “It’s a wrench, giving it to you,” said Fred. “, but we decided last night, your need is greater than ours.”

            “Anyway we know it by heart,” said George. “We bequeath it to you, Harry. We don’t really need it anymore.”

            “And what do I need with an old bit of parchment?” said Harry.

“A bit of old parchment!” said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. “Explain, George.”

            “Well….when we were in our first year, Harry, young, carefree, and innocent..”

            Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.

“Well, more innocent than we are now, we got into a bit of bother with Filch..”

            “We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor, and it upset him for some reason….”

“So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual….”

            “Detention.”

“Disembowelment.”

            “And after noticing a drawer marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.”

“Well, what would you’ve done?” said Fred.

            Fred then held out the parchment.

He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, “I solemnly swear that I up to no good.”

            And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider’s web from the point that George’s wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed.

Messers. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

The Marauders Map

            It was map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing. Astounded, Harry bent over it. He saw Dumbledore and Mrs. Norris. Everyone in the castle.

            This map showed a set of passages he had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead….

            “To Hogsmeade,” said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger. “There are seven in all.” They then laid out all the passageways. The ones that Filch knew about and the ones that only they knew about. Including one that led right into Honeyduke’s cellar.

            “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” sighed George, like he was lovesick. “We owe them so much.”

            “Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers,” said Fred solemnly.

            “Right,” said George briskly. “Don’t forget to wipe it after you’ve used it…”

            “or anyone can read it,” Fred said warningly.

“Just tap it and say, ‘Mischief Managed!’ And it’ll go blank.”

            “So, young Harry,” said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, “mind you behave yourself.”

            “See you in Honeydukes,” said George winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

            Harry found the passageway easy enough, with the help of the map and his invisibility cloak and was in Hosgmeade before he knew it.

            He found Hermione, Ron, and Neville in Zonkos, and Millicent and Blaise in the Stationary shop. He had to side step Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy to get to them, but it was worth it. He sidestepped Crabbe, causing him to bump into Malfoy who dumped a whole vial of ink down his front. Harry followed it with the quick dry charm that he uses on his homework then fought to stifle his laughter as Malfoy was told he would have to pay for the solid gold vial of ink, not that he couldn’t afford it.

“Shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?” Ron asked, pulling his hands to his mouth to puff warm air on them.

            Harry was more than willing; the wind was fierce and his hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

            It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of warlocks at the bar. Ron offered to go get their drinks as Millicent and Hermine shared a knowing look.

            They made their way to the back of the room toward a small vacant table. “Merry Christmas!” said Ron happily, handing them their butterbeers.

            Harry drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted and it seemed to warm every bit of him from the inside.

            A sudden breeze ruffled his hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harry looked over the rim of his tankard and choked.

            Professor McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

            Millicent and Blaise seemed to work together to usher Harry out of sight, underneath the table.

            Next, he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman’s voice.

            “A small gillywater….”

“Mine,” said Professor McGonagall’s voice.

            “Four pints of mulled mead…”

“Ta, Rosmerta,” said Hagrid.

            “A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella…”

“Mmm!” said Professor Flitwich, smacking his lips.

            “So you’ll be the red currant rum, Minister…”

“Thank you, Rosmerta, m’dear,” said Fudge’s voice. “Lovely to see you again, I must saw. Have one yourself, won’t you? Come and join us….”

            “Well, thank you very much, Minister. So, what brings you to this neck o the woods, Minister?” came Madam Rosmerta’s voice after a moment.

            Harry saw the lower part of Fudge’s thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice. “What else, m’dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?”

            “I did hear a rumor,” admitted Madam Rosmerta.

“Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?” said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

            “Do you think Black’s still in the area, Minister?” whispered Madam Rosmerta.

            “I’m sure of it,” said Fudge shortly.

“Do you know I still have trouble believing it,” said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. “Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought… I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you’d told me then what he was going to become, I’d have said you’d had too much mead.”

            “You don’t know the half of it, Rosmerta,” said Fudge gruffly. “The worst he did isn’t widely known.”

            “The worst?” said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. “Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?”

            “I certainly do,” said Fudge.

“I can’t believe that.”

            “You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta,” murmured Professor McGonagall. “Do you remember who his best friend was?”      

            “Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small fond laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here…ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”

            Harry nearly dropped his tankard with a loud clank.

“Precisely,” said Professor McGonagall. “Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course, exceptionally bright, in fact, but I don’t think we’ve ever had such a pair of troublemakers….”    

            “I dunno,” chuckled Hagrid. “Fred and George Weasley could give ‘em a run for their money.”

            “You would have thought Black and Potter were brothers!” chimed in Professor Flitwick. “Inseparable!”

            “Of course they were,” said Fudge. “Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.”

            “Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?” whispered Madam Rosmerta.

            “Worse even than that, m’dear….” Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. “Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn’t an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them their best chance was the Fidelus Charm.”

            “How does it work?” said Madam Rosmerta.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. “An immensely complex spell, involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find, unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!”

            “So, Black was the Potter’s secret keeper?” said Madam Rosmerta.

“Naturally,” said Professor McGonagall. “James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potter’s Secret-Keeper himself.”

            “He suspected Black?” gasped Madam Rosmerta.

“He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,” said Professor McGonagall darkly. “Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who.”

            “But James Potter insisted on using Black?”

“He did,” said Fudge heavily. “And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed….”

            “Black betrayed them?” breathed Madam Rosmerta.

“He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters’ death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it..”

            “Filthy, stinkin’ turncoat!” Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

“Shhh!” said Professor McGonagall.

            “I met him!” growled Hagrid. “I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an’ James’s house after they was killed! Jus’ got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash acorss his forehead, an’ his parents dead….an’ Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin’ motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin’ there. I didn’ know he’d bin Lily an’ James’s Secret-Keeper. Thought he’d jus’ heard the news o’ You-Know-Who’s attack an’ come ter see what he could do. White an’ shakin’ he was. An’ yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN’ TRAITOR!” Hagrid roared.

            “Hagrid, please!” said Professor McGonagall, but Harry felt even warmer toward his friend then he thought possible. “Keep your voice down!”

            “How was I ter know he wasn’ upset about’ Lily an’ James?” It was You-Know-Who he cared about’! An’ then he says, “Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I’ll look after him…. ;Ha! But I’d had me orders from Dumbledore, an’ I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an’ uncles’s. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. ‘I won’t need it anymore,’ he says.

            “I shoulda known there was something’ fishy goin’ on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin’ it ter me for? Why wouldn’ he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he’d bin the Potter’s Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin’ ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o’ hours before the Ministry was after him.”

            “But what if I’d given Harry to him, eh? I bet he’d’ve pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes’ friends son! But when a wizard goes over ter the dark Side, there’s nothing, and no one that matters to ‘em anymore….”

            A long silence followed Hagrid’s story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, “But he didn’t manage to disappear did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!”

            “Alas, if only we had,” said Fudge bitterly. “It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew, another of Potter’s friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself.”

            “Pettigrew, that fat little boy who was always taggin around after them at Hogwarts?” said Madam Rosmerta.

            “Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I…how I regret that now….” She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.        

            “There, now, Minerva,” said Fudge kindly, “Pettigrew died a hero’s death. Eyewitnesses, Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later, told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, ‘Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?’ And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…..”

            Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, “Stupid boy…foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling…should have left it to the Ministry…”

            “I tell yeh, if I’d got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I would’t’ve messed around with wands, I’d’ve ripped him limb from limb…” growled Hagrid.

            “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hagrid,” said Fudge sharply. “Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was a Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people… I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggle screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few….few fragments.”

            Fudge’s voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

“Well, there you have it, Rosmerta,” said Fudge thickly. “Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black’s been in Azkaban ever since.”

            Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

“Is it true he’s mad, Minister?”

            “I wish I could say that he was,” said Fudge slowly. “I certainly believe his master’s defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man…cruel…pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there’s no sense in them…but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You’d have thought he was merely bored…asked if I’d finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him…and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know, Dementors outside his door day and night.”

            “But what do you think he’s broken out to do?” said Madam Rosmerta. “Good gracious, Minister, he isn’t trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?”

            “I daresay that is his…er. Eventual plan,” said Fudge evasively. “But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing…but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he’ll rise again…”

            There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass. Professor McGonagall and the rest rose from the table, bid goodbye to Madam Rosmerta and left, but Harry barely registered it.

            Harry rushed back to Honeydukes, through the cellar, and went straight toward his dormitory. He had stared at the photo hundreds of times, but if he didn’t know he would never have guessed that they were the same person. He opened the album, and stopped on a picture of his parent’s wedding day. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his dad. And there…that must be him. Their best man… Harry had never given him a thought before.

            His face wasn’t sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

            But the dementors don’t affect him, Harry thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face. He doesn’t have to hear my mom screaming if they get to close….

            Harry slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into his cabinet, took off his robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding him from view. Then he heard the dormitory doors open.

            “Potter?” It was Millicent.

Then, “We’ll help you.”

            Harry opened his curtains.

“What?” he said.

            Millicent and Blaise stood there. “We’ll help you, find Black, take him out, whatever.”

“What?” Harry repeated again.

            Blaise stepped forward.

“Remember that we don’t think it’s the brightest thing to do, but we’re here for you no matter what.”     

            Harry nodded. “But we’ll be smart,” added Millicent. “There will be no barging around and knocking things over like the Gryffindors do, you heard what McGonagall said as well as we did. Black is smart, one of the cleverest boys in their year, and that means that we have to use all the cunning we can to catch him.”

            “He killed my parents,” said Harry. “He betrayed them. Did you know?”

He had already worked out that Malfoy knew. What he said in potions that day clicked with what he knew now, but he wondered if his friends knew anything about it.

            “I knew that Pettigrew’s mother only got to bury a finger after his duel with Black, but all it’s ever been is speculation, a legend that we were always too young to know the whole of, but Draco’s father,” said Millicent.

            “It was always rumored that Draco��s father,” Blaise whispered. “was in league with You-Know-Who.”

            The day only got worse when he received a letter from Hagrid. Buckbeak was being put on trial for what had happened with Malfoy, and from what Hermione could dig up, it didn’t seem as if he had the best chances.

            Harry wrote to Hagrid saying that he would try to help in any way that he could. If only helping meant that he could strangle Malfoy then he’d only be too willing to oblige.

            On Christmas morning, Harry woke and went to open his presents. It was still a novel experience, considering what he had lived with before, and he was thankful for every one, though at times he still thought he would wake up to an empty tree.

            He was just eyeing a present from Mrs.Weasley when something caught his eyes.

“What’s that?” said Blaise, looking over a rather large box of his own.

            “Dunno…”

            Harry ripped the parcel open and gaped as a magnificent gleaming broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread. Blaise dropped his package and jumped off his bed for a closer look.

            “That’s a Firebolt,” he said incredulously.

It’s handle glittered as he picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.

            “Who sent it to you?” said Blaise.

Harry look, but there was no card to be found.

            “It has to be Dumbledore,” said Blaise, and Harry found himself agreeing. In no universe would it have been from the Dursleys, and Harry highly doubted that Professor Lupin would have the funds, and as much as Professor McGonagall liked him, he did play for an opposing team. Maybe it came from Snape, he thought wryly before laughing a little at that absurd idea.

            “We should show it to Millicent,” Blaise suggested.

Millicent took one look at the broom and instantly said, “It’s jinxed.”

            “What?” Harry asked.

“It’s jinxed, it has to be,” she said. “No note, no return to sender. You get a random package with a madman on the loose, and you automatically think that what, it’s a gift from Merlin?”

            “Well, what do you want to do with it? Take it to Snape?”

Millicent shook her head.

            “You can’t be serious,” Harry said incredulously, clutching the beauty of a broom to his chest.

            “Snape will know what’s wrong with it, if anything, but he’ll want you to be able to use it,”

“He hates me,” said Harry.

            “Maybe,” said Blaise, “but he does love winning. And this is an international standard broom. You’ll be able to knock them all out of the sky.”

            “What about Lupin?” Harry thought suddenly.

“I don’t care with whom you share your broomstick, Potter, as long as you don’t get knocked off it again this year.”

            “Hey,” shouted Harry. “That happened what?”

“Two years running,” Blaise said, eyes rolling.

            “Right,” said Harry. “Fine, I’ll take it to Lupin.”

            Classes started after Christmas soon enough, and Harry was quick to catch up with Lupin about his promise of anti-dementor lessons.

            “Ah yes,” said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promise at the end of class. “Let me see….how about eight o’clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough.”

            “Still looks ill, doesn’t he?” said Millicent as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. “I wonder what’s wrong with him.”

            At eight o’clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with his wand and had waited only five minutes, when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binns’ desk.

            “What’s that?” said Harry.

“Another boggart,” said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. “I’ve been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch’s filing cabinet. It’s the nearest we’ll get to a real dementor. The boggart will turn into a dementor when he sees you, so we’ll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we’re not using him; there’s a cupboard under my desk he’ll like.”

            “Okay,” said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn’t apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real dementor.

            “So….” Professor Lupin had taken out his wand, and indicated that Harry should do the same. “The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry. It is well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm.”

            “How does it work?” said Harry nervously.

“Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus,” said Lupin, “which is a kind of anti-dementor, a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor.”

            Harry had a sudden vision of himself crouching behind a Hagrid sized figure holding a large club. Professor Lupin continued, “The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon, hope, happiness, the desire to survive, but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can’t hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.”

            “What does a Patronus look like?”

“Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it, and you conjure it with an incantation, which will only work if you are concentrating with all your might on a single, very happy memory.”

            Harry cast his mind for a happy memory then inspired by the firebolt, decided on the first time that he ever rode a broomstick.

            “Right,” he said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of his stomach.

            “The incantation,” said Professor Lupin. “is Expecto Patronum!”

“Expecto Patronum,” Harry repeated under his breath. “Expecto Patronum.”

            “Concentrating on your happy memory?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. “Expecto Patronum….Expecto Patronum…Expecto Patronum…”

            Something whooshed suddenly out the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

            “Did you see that?” said Harry excitedly. “Something happened.”

“Very good,” said Lupin, smiling. “Right, then, ready to try it on a dementor?”

            “Yes,” Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding…..Any second now, he might hear his mother again…but he shouldn’t think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn’t want to…..did he?

            Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

            A dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him…..

            “Expecto Patronum!” Harry yelled. “Expecto Patronum! Expecto Pa….”

            But the classroom and the dementor were dissolving….Harry was falling again through thick white fog, and his mother’s voice was louder than ever, echoing inside his head….”Not Harry! Not Harry! Please, I’ll do anything….”

            “Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

“Harry?”

            Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn’t have to ask what had happened.

            “Sorry,” he mumbled, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses.

“Are you all right?” said Lupin.

            “Yes…..” Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.

“Here….” Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. “Eat this before we try again. I didn’t expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had.”

            “It’s getting worse,” Harry muttered, biting off the Frog’s head. “I could hear her louder that time, and him….Voldemort.”

            Lupin looked paler than normal.

            “Harry, if you don’t want to continue, I will more than understand.”

“I do!” said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog inside his mouth. “I’ve got too. What if the dementors turn up at one of our matches? I can’t afford to fall off again.”

            “All right then,” said Lupin. “You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on…That one doesn’t seem to have been strong enough…”

            Harry thought hard and decided on his first Christmas at Hogwarts. Playing in the snow with the Weasleys, getting presents, getting whipped in chess by Millicent.

            “Okay, I’m ready,”

Harry cast the incantation again. “Expecto Patronum….Expecto Patron…..”

            White fog obscured his senses…big, blurred shapes were moving around him…then came a new voice, a man’s voice, shouting, panicking….

            “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off….”

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room…. A door bursting open….a cackle of high-pitched laughter….

            “Harry! Harry…wake up…”

Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor.

            Harry heaved a breath.

“I heard my dad,” Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him, that I’ve ever heard his voice….he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it….”

            Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see.

            “You heard James?” said Lupin in a strange voice.

“Yeah…” Face dry, Harry looked up. “Why? Did you, did you know my dad?”

            “I….I did, as a matter of fact,” said Lupin. “We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry, perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced….I shouldn’t have even suggested this.”

            “No!” said Harry. He got up again. “I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking happy enough things, that’s what it is….Hang on…”

            He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory…one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus. Then Harry thought of what it felt like to finally leave the Dursleys for Hogwarts.

            Lupin made sure he was ready, then pulled the lid of the case open.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry bellowed. “EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!

            The screaming inside Harry’s head had started again, except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio, softer and louder and softer again, and he could still see the dementor. It had halted, and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry’s wand, to hover between them and the dementor, and though Harry’s legs felt like water, he was still on his feet, though for how much longer he wasn’t sure.

            “Riddikulus!” roared Lupin, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry’s cloudy Patronus vanished along with the dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he’d just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the boggart back into the packing case with his wand, once again a silvery orb.

            “Excellent!” Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. “Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start.”

            “Can we have another go? Just one more?”

“Not now,” said Lupin firmly. “You’ve had enough for one night. Here….”

            He handed Harry some more chocolate.

“Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?”

            “Okay,” said Harry. He took a bite of chocolate and watched Lupin move to extinguish the lamps, he thought of how to ask his next question.

            “Professor Lupin?” he said. “If you knew my dad, you must’ve known Sirius Black as well.”

            Lupin turned very quickly.

“What gives you that idea?” he said sharply.

            “Nothing… I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…..”

Lupin’s face relaxed.

            “Yes, I knew him,” he said shortly. “Or I thought I did. You’d better be off, Harry, it’s getting late.”

            Harry gathered his things. Lupin clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but Harry did. “I’m getting better, I think,” he said as they walked toward the door.

            “Do you think, Professor, that when I can cast a Patronus properly, I mean, that I won’t be able to hear them anymore?”

            Lupin stopped in his tracks, a horrible look on his face that he couldn’t wipe away fast enough.

            “I don’t know, Harry, I don’t know.”