As the summer waned on in Grimmauld Place, Remus started to see things from Sirius’ perspective; the house was dreary and the exception of one or two occasional visitors, the squawking of Buckbeak, the hippogriff, upstairs, and the discovery of a gnome colony that was lurking in the moss covered basement below (the only place Remus did not have the courage to clean), life had become a pitiful bore.
Every mess he cleared away quickly reappeared; no progress could really be made, in which brought a round of frustration upon Remus. His only real pleasure resided in Sirius’ diary, which he took to carrying in the pocket of his robes, as a kind of savior when boredom reached its height. He found that he was nearly tempted to pull it out during Snape’s dull, lengthy report at the Order’s last meeting. However, he refrained and struggled to keep a mild, slightly interested expression, attempting to suppress his envy as well.
Ever since Sirius’ passing, Remus had taken his place as ‘headquarters monitor’ for the Order (Remus thought of himself bitterly as the Order’s sacred janitor), doing his best to keep his calm and not rip off Snape’s head after his snide remarks about the ‘cleaning,’ as he had done to Sirius.
Although, one achievement that Remus was particularly proud of, was the silencing of Mrs. Black. He had taken a chance and wedged a piece of spell-o tape over her mouth, remembering how James used to silence the paintings on his nightly excursions. Remus marveled at simplicity of its genius and basked in this small glory throughout the rest of the day.
It was then after that he realized how pathetic circumstances really were for him. How could this have happened to him, Remus J. Lupin? But then he thought about Harry and didn’t feel quite as bad.
Remus skipped through most of Sirius’ November entries, finding them distracted with thoughts and worries of Moony, laments concerning Sinistra, and various complaints about Filch. The Marauders had covered up Moony’s stay in the hospital wing by saying it was merely a reaction to some mysterious Honeyduke’s candy, but an odd rumor, spread by Mackenzie McGavott, floated around that Moony had had a frightening run in with a centaur. This preposterous story was more widely received than the Marauder’s sweetshop tale, which was better for Moony; since he gained oh-so-much more attention that way (Pomfrey had promised Moony merely a fortnight in hospital, much better than his last year’s two-month stay).
As the Marauders did their best to keep their cool, and act as if nothing had ever happened, there was still other” well, things that needed to be attended to. James had sadly received a howler from home, expressing his mother’s fury with him in his silly suicidal act to woo Lily. He was greatly shocked at her ever finding out and took to jinxing more “first year spies,” down the hall.
It was a strange move on Mrs. Potter’s part, for Sirius had never recalled her ever sending more than a little note of reprimand, and hence-forth, he behaved himself a little better, for fear she might bring her motherly wrath down upon him as well. So another plot to win Evans had spiraled down the drain, it wasn’t surprising actually, it served as Marauder entertainment and that’s really all Sirius cared about.
November 17th 1975:
Frost flecked the windows of Professor McGonagall's classroom, and though a fire blazed in the back grate, the chamber was still as cold as ice. The students were bundled in mufflers and gloves, shivering in their Spartan desks, quills flying in attempt to document The Professor’s lecture. She stood at the front of the class, donning her favorite pair of green ear muffs, lecturing the class on an intriguing incantation entitled a Patronus (she often saw fit to lecture on subjects not only pertaining to Transfiguration, but Defense Against the Dark Arts as well... as she did not hold the Professor of that subject in such high esteem).
"Hey Evans, can I see your notes”Evans?" James inquired eagerly, scooting his chair next to Lily's.
Lily sat, and she looked very pretty with rosy cheeks, accenting the green luster of her eyes, nose upturned to her black haired desk partner. She was thoroughly annoyed with him in every way. Apparently she had given up using her "barrier", with two great novels placed upright between them, so that she wouldn't be bothered by Potter's "antics." Remus guessed James had done a healthy bit of negotiating to have these removed, or perhaps he irked her to the point that she seceded. At any rate, she still wasn't exactly chummy.
"Evans, can I see your notes?" James hissed again in Lily's ear, this time tapping her on the shoulder.
"What for?" she asked out of the side of her mouth, not bothering to give him a look.
"So I can compare," he said innocently.
“A likely story,” she snapped. “Last time you ‘compared’ I could barely make out my notes among all that profanity!”
“But it was all about you,” James smiled brightly.
Lily’s nostrils flared, “Exactly my point.”
“Does it bother you that I find you breathtaking?” James asked, tilting his head to the side with a smirk.
“Are we going to have to go through this everyday?” she groaned. “Alright, ask me, just go ahead and ask me!”
“What?” James blinked.
“What you’ve badgered me about everyday for the last two weeks.” Lily’s patience was ebbing and she spoke through gritted teeth, trying very hard to contain her tone.
“Why, are you going to say yes this time?”
“No, just go on and get it over with, you’re going to ask me anyway. I just know it you stupid prat!”
“Okay,” James grinned cheekily. “Lily Evans, do you by chance have a Snitch in your possession?” He blinked and smiled expectantly at her, waiting for her usual response.
“Can’t say I do,” she sighed simply.
James frowned and leaned his chair back on two legs. “Oh come on, Lils, I swear, you’re in denial. You have it.”
“Even if I did, it’s not like I’d tell you!”
“Oh ho ho! That’s an open confession!” James laughed loudly, pointing at her rather rudely.
“No it’s not,” Lily hissed, conscious of the eyes falling on them.
“Well, we both know the truth… you can keep denying it, but I’ll still love you,” James winked and pinched her arm.
She tried to slap him back inconspicuously under the table, but he took hold of her hand and would not let go.
“Just one more question Evans,” James leaned close and whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
Lily froze, and then blushed, an immensely deep red, and her stomach started doing somersaults.
“And that is?” she asked stiffly, trying to hide her nerves.
“Will you make love to me in the broom cupboard after class?”
He watched her eyes widen with shear horror, and he grinned even more broadly when she opened her mouth, but was speechless. She whipped her hand out of his, kicked him painfully in the shin, and scooted her chair even further away, glaring at him all the while.
Remus’ eyes drifted further around the classroom, landing on a well-built black haired boy. Sirius Black sat in the back of the class etching crudely drawn caricatures (of Filch, Snape and Lestrange) on his desktop, ignoring McGonagall completely. His desk partner would cast him dark looks occasionally, but he took no notice.
Ever since that night Elise had discovered his secret, he made sure she was even more invisible than before, not daring to meet her eyes or utter a word to her. Although, Elise didn’t seem to mind, she gained a kind of unruly confidence, and often took to humming during lectures. She felt free to be herself when she knew Sirius would not dare say a word. So now she shuffled her feet aimlessly beneath the desk, her quill flying under her chin, scratching along the parchment as she offered an ear to McGonagall’s lecture, with attentiveness Sirius could never achieve.
Sirius was close to dozing when his ears perked up at the mention of a word.
“A Werewolf is not an Animagus,” Professor McGonagall’s voice sounded from the front. “There are more differences than similarities between the two.”
She babbled on a few phrases more and Sirius listened dully, until she posed a question that perked his interest. “And what is an Animagus? Anyone?”
Sirius’ hand shot up in the back.
McGonagall blinked idly at him, as if she doubted what she was seeing. She paused a moment and said brusquely, “I’m sorry, not now Mr. Black, you may relieve yourself during the break.”
“No, Professor, I wanted to answer the question.”
Professor McGonagall raised her brows, “You do? Well, let’s hear it then.”
Sirius educated the class with a highly detailed explanation, which rather shocked Professor McGonagall.
“Very thorough Black, ten points to Gryffindor.”
Sirius smiled smugly, winking at James. However, to his displeasure, he caught eyes with Elise for the first time in weeks. They locked eyes for a brief moment, and quickly looked away. This caused an uncomfortable squirming in his stomach to begin, which really made him wish he’d actually asked to use the toilet.
McGonagall returned to the front, dictating to a piece of white chalk that etched her words across the board.
“Correct. An Animagus takes form according to one’s personality, or in more precise terms, one’s Patronus. For example, if one takes on traits on great boldness and quick wit, their Animagus would most likely be a cat or take some feline form. Timid personalities perhaps might produce a rodent or some animal of that nature.”
“Then Snivellus would be a skunk,” Sirius leaned forward and whispered to Peter who was two desks ahead.
Sirius hadn’t exactly been discrete, or quiet for that matter, so James turned around in his seat in the front, adding, “Perhaps--better yet, a stink bug.” He said this a little louder, causing more laughter among the students.
Professor McGonagall whipped around, her harsh gaze landed on James. “Enough Potter, five points from Gryffindor. That is no way to talk about another student, and I will be bold enough to venture that your Patronus form is a chicken.”
“OHHH!” snickered, the class in unison.
When Professor McGonagall turned back to the board, James attempted to suppress silent giggles, he and Sirius only knowing the full humor of the Professor’s remark. Lily shook her head, and Peter looked around with a pained expression waiting for someone to explain to him what was so funny.
Elise, on the other hand was stony-faced, watching Sirius out of the corner of her eye. He made sure not to appease her with the look she so desired, he wished that he could avoid that horrible stomach squirming that kicked during moments of guilt.
The classroom faded away, replaced by yellowing parchment and Sirius’ blotchy handwriting…
9:57 am, Wednesday, suffering from the lull of excitement…Why have I brought my diary to Transfiguration? Mainly because the bird lady at the front bores me to tears, and “Gorgeous” here to my right isn’t exactly chatty… like it matters. So let me enlighten you with the musings of a sixteen- year old prodigy:
1. This classroom smells like over-cooked cabbage.
2. Stover keeps picking her nose when she thinks no one is looking.
3. My foot itches…and I’m bored as hell!
4. I wonder if McGonagall ever had looks in her youth, was she like”
(hmm, my desk partner is casting me dodgy looks).
As I was saying (ahem), SIRIUS BLACK’S PLANS FOR WORLD DOMINATION… (Desk partner has just made a derisive snort… although I could swear she’s smiling now).
~~~ (Time has lapsed… ooh no, really) ~~~
T’was a month before Christmas and all through the school
Chaps were snoring in class and drowning on drool (don’t
look at me like that, it rhymed!!)
Teachers were hired by Satan; I know that it’s true
I saw Vicar breathe fire and McGonagall too.
And then she gave me that evil old glare
I was sent to her office, the “cannibal’s lair!”
I pled like a good boy, I promise, I swear,
“She eats children,” I cried, “Young ones beware!”
But it was too late, my evil demise,
Was found in the earth’s most horrible prize…
So much for rhyming I have detention… AGAIN!!!!! Pity me, really, feel my pain. I think what McGonagall’s really put out about is that I have every one of her Friday nights scheduled for my detentions, so she technically doesn’t have any leisure time, tis a shame. Ooh-- ooh, but I thought I’d add this genius tid-bit…
Education, ha! My God, what a farce!
I’d rather eat dung than sit on my arse
Anyhow, I do hope Moony’s out of hospital soon. I’m having trouble writing that Binns essay without him. Well, on second thought, maybe I’ll just have Stover do it for me. Of course that means I’ll have to waste a whole half-hour with her in the broom cupboard, but I do need to pass “History of Morons” this year.
The winter break can’t come soon enough and this whole month’s been one long drag. Although, there are the slight perks… trips to The Three Broomsticks at one o’clock in the morning, getting Rosemerta tipsy enough to sit in my lap… and then I did convince Professor Vicar I was allergic to the ingredients in the Hag’s Hazel potion, to where he let me skip the lesson and do the observations essay--oh yes! *grins evilly* I sent a howler to myself, expressing Sinistra’s undying love for me (I was later slapped for that one, but it was well worth it.)
Speaking of Sinistra, after she dumped Peter nearly two weeks ago, she went out with Prewett, Lestrange and four other blokes I don’t care to know, it’s scandalous! Not really, I’ve done worse, but now she’s off flirting with that girly-boy Diggory and his hideous pompadour hair.
Oh, and that’s another good thing that happened! Not Sinistra dating Diggory, you idiot, but I um… well, let’s just say my dear Amos has quite an attractive afro working for him now. Wonder how Sinistra will react to that.
But woe, I must end my entry, for my dear colleague Prongs has just suggested a good washing up in the prefects’ loo. Oh Moony, we owe you mate, we owe you… pine fresh!
Speaking of baths, Remus thought he quite needed one himself, but continued reading, contented in a hefty red armchair at the fireside of what had been the Black’s family room, shoveling down handfuls of cashews, digesting and reading was very satisfying…
November passed and Moony was still prisoner in the hospital wing, reacting rather badly to any form of treatment Madame Pomfrey tried to give him. Magical Maladies had caused him to break out in boils; All Purpose Remedy Elixir had plagued him with ghastly rashes; Vivrous Tonic and Fouler Power combined had sent him into a frightening three day long slumber, and lamb shank had given him cramps.
All in all, it was mid December before Madame Pomfrey deemed him cured, but he chose to stay in the hospital besides the fact, because he was stricken by the approaching full moon. Moony had to add though, a bit of chocolate certainly cheered things up.
From November to early December, Sirius had gained and lost three girlfriends, all Miss Universe worthy candidates in looks, but with no more brains than an ameba.
This caused Sirius to get bored with them quickly, and seeing how he was only using them to bait Sinistra with jealousy (which didn’t seem to be working), he wasn’t too depressed about it.
However, his entries steadily became moodier as the month passed on, as he dreaded the holiday season. For him it meant long lonely hours of brooding at Hogwarts with little company and gut retching reminders of family. It meant meeting-up with a morose inner darkness, and he was too proud to invite himself over to James’ for the break, and Prongs guessed as much. One night at supper he took it upon himself to save Sirius from his gloom.
“You’re coming home with me, aren’t you mate?” James asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Sirius’ eyes flashed dangerously up from his dinner plate, where he had been chasing his peas about with a fork.
“Uh…”
The question shocked him somewhat. He had expected to stay at school, like he’d done every year. James’ offer was generous, but Sirius was already too much in debt to the Potters. But then, Christmas at Godric’s Hallow would be brilliant! You’ll owe James, a voice in his head whispered, He’ll have you by a favor, is that what you want, to have a debt weighing over your head… a debt that must be repaid? And then there was the other fear… father.
“I don’t think so James,” Sirius said a little too quickly.
James furrowed his brows. “What’s that supposed to mean? C’mon, you’re not thinking of going back to Grimmauld--"
“No,” shot Sirius shortly, “I-I think I’ll stay at the castle…”
“You’re mad, Sirius! I can’t believe you’d choose… You’re daft to want to stay!”
“It’s not because I want to, it’s because I have to!”
“What are you talking about? My mum’s already got a room ready for you. She wrote this morning… she’s expecting you Sirius!”
Sirius was losing his temper; his eyes were narrowed, as an embarrassing heat started to rising from his neck up. “Didn’t you hear me? I have to stay!”
“Explain, why don’t you?”
“Oh!” Sirius pushed off angrily from his bench. “James,” he hissed. “Do you know what would happen if my father knew that I had spent another spell at your place? I’m already in deep enough [censored] as it is, let alone..."
James crossed his arms. “So you’re letting him get to you?” he asked testily.
Sirius reddened. “Shut up James, you asked!”
And with that, he kicked off from the bench, and sulked away from the table, hexing Regulus in the process.
No mention of this little feud between James and Sirius was documented in any of the following entries, but a kind of frostiness was visible in the entries Sirius wrote about James thereafter. It wasn’t until December 23rd, that it appeared as if Sirius’ mood had changed.
December 23rd, 1975:
Feathers dusted the floor of the boy’s dormitory, scattered over the pillows, looking like frosty remnants of a winter snow. Sirius was standing atop his bed, pillow raised high above his head, face glowing with a playful brilliance.
“Surrender, or suffer my wrath!” he cried loudly, issuing a warrior cry as he flung a great lumpy pillow at an unsuspecting Prongs.
“It was funny half-an-hour ago, but it’s a little old now!” James groaned in exasperation, spitting out a mouthful of feathers.
“Sore losers never prosper,” Sirius chimed, bouncing jovially on his mattress. He felt like he was five today and didn’t care, freedom would soon be his. One more day of schooling and the Christmas holidays would arrive.
“Isn’t it cheaters never prosper?” James asked, frowning, he flung open his drawers and threw various clothing articles carelessly onto the floor.
“Not so, we’ve prospered as cheaters quite well don’t you think?”
“Fair enough,” James shrugged. He scratched at his hair and stared thoughtfully at the large black trunk placed on the edge of his bed.
There came a thud, James looked up and viewed a wincing Sirius, who was now sprawled out on the floor, rubbing his head and glaring at the ceiling.
“Jumped a little too high,” he said, grinning bashfully.
James smiled back wryly and made a final decisive sigh, and gathered up his strewn clothing about the floor.
“Pack clean things,” he said, some five minutes later, piling his trunk with an assortment of winter wear.
As it was the last day before the holiday break, James finally decided to start packing. The carriages for students spending the break away were set to leave the next morning and Sirius still had not given James an answer on where he was to remain during that time.
“My Mum’ll be in a right state if you’ve got soiled laundry, Sirius,” James said, this with nonchalance, but his eyes traveled expectantly to Sirius, hoping he’d caught on.
“James, my mind is made up,” Sirius groaned with a hint of annoyance. “I’ll stay here. It’ll just inconvenience your Mum if I tag along.”
He, Sirius, had been trying a lot harder lately to manage his temper, and so he chose a softer approach, hoping to sound more like the unwanted guest than the rude rejecter.
“How many times have I told you, idiot, my Mum’s going to run around mad like headless chicken if you don’t come. She’s gone all out for guests. She’ll be a little put out if you don’t come; I’ve already told her you’re joining us, its final!”
“Well, you can just write back and tell her it was a mistake!” Sirius barked, losing his composure. “It’s not like anyone really wants me there!”
James’ face fell and an uncharacteristic meekness took him as he mumbled, looking somewhat blushingly to the floor, “What are you talking about? You’re--you’re like family, Padfoot.”
He lifted his eyes and a sliver of a smile crept to James’ lips, almost unsure whether it was all right.
A warm, elated feeling jumped from Sirius’ stomach, his mouth forming into a smile against his will. Like family? Sirius, is like family? He couldn’t say it, he didn’t know how, but he was grateful… how could he object now, James was his best friend… just as good as family.
“Mate, I―” he began, but James shook his head.
“No, if you don’t want to come it’s all right, mum will just have to understand.”
“James―”
“I’m not going to twist your arm, I’ll tell her we won’t be needing the guest bedroom… you know the one with the high ceiling, cherry wood furniture, silk pillows, and balcony,”
“James!” Sirius interrupted more loudly, but Prongs turned a deaf ear, continuing on.
“I’ll tell dad we won’t need the mark five brooms or the pitch, seeing as it’ll just be me. Mum had a hot tub installed to the guest bedroom you used to stay in.”
“All right, all right, James, I’ll go!” Sirius cried angrily, but James’ face was spread too widely into a smile that Sirius could not help but beam back, his anger was now dissolved.
“No, I really don’t think we want you anymore,” James kidded.
Sirius threw his head back in a bark-like laugh. “You win. I surrender.”
Finally things were back to normal. Sirius was exhilarated at the thought of spending his holiday in the Potter’s plush pad and quickly started packing, his mind set on the new Jacuzzi that had been installed in the guest room.
One more day of classes was ahead of them before three weeks of holiday freedom, and for like most holidays… the Marauders had a little something planned.
James and Sirius skipped Charms that day to explain the plot to Wormtail. They gathered in an empty classroom on the seventh floor opposite from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. Inside it was quite extravagant with the largest and most comfortable of lounging cushions, and piles and buckets of chocolate frogs and every flavored bean’s to eat at their leisure (Sirius often took girls here for romantic excursions, although it was usually dressed in red and softened with candlelight).
“There’s a difference between holly and mistletoe, Peter. My God, didn’t your mother ever teach you anything?” James squawked, lounging on his own snitch-stitched cushion.
Peter made a low whining noise that could have been taken for an apology. “Fine, well, what’s that then?” he asked, pointing to a clump of green leaves sticking out of James’ back pocket.
“Oh this?” James retrieved the yuletide greenery and ruffled it in Peter’s face. “This I developed in Herbology, when””
“You developed?” cried Sirius. “I had a hand in it too, you know!”
“Fine,” James rolled his eyes. “Einstein and I came up with it. Anyway, we developed it in Herbology. That new Kettleburn’s a real snoozer, nearly as bad as Binns… misses everything. Bet if I set the greenhouse on fire he wouldn’t notice!”
“Yeah, but what is it?” Peter questioned, sniffing at the plant much like a rodent.
Sirius snatched it away, snarling “Don’t sniff it, you dolt! Its magical mistletoe… enhanced.”
“Magnetic mistletoe, actually,” said James.
Peter’s mouth fell open. “Magnetic…”
“Mistletoe, yes,” Sirius beamed at his creation. “When placed above the heads of any two… of the opposite sex, of course, they will automatically collide.”
“Hence the term ‘magnetic’,” put in James quickly.
A crooked smile crept to Sirius’ lips, “and won’t detach unless they kiss good and proper.”
“In the right place,” James added with a sly grin.
“On the lips,” Sirius finished for him. “Enough of this mamby-pamby, wishy-washy, kiss-on-the-cheek business, we’re out to rectify the problem… and, erm, add a touch of chaos as well,” said Sirius, biting his lower lip mischievously.
“We’ve stationed twenty sprigs of the stuff around the castle, which should activate in… oh, say twenty minutes or so,” James said, checking his wristwatch.
“But it’s a bit of a risk isn’t it?” Peter asked blearily. It was obvious that he seemed thoroughly overwhelmed by the idea. “I mean, what if you get stuck with some… you know…”
“Unfavorable soul? Yes, we thought of that,” James said loosely, “but that’s highly unlikely considering we know the location of it all, and if we travel in a pack of males we should be fine. Of course that doesn’t mean I won’t try and pull Evans under one with me.”
“Yes, well I still think you’re too young to die,” Sirius smirked, drawling in that aloof manner as he tossed a toffee bean in the air and caught it in his mouth with ease.
Whooshing and whirling his world about, Remus landed very hard on his backside in what appeared to be Professor Flitwick’s empty Charms classroom. He rubbed his back end and scrambled to his feet, looking for signs of Sirius. It did not take him long to spot the infamous black hair so roguishly tousled, and the haughty handsome face drawn in a jeering grin as Sirius leaned coolly against the doorway.
“So nice of you to drop by,” he was saying, his head inclined charmingly to the side.
“Drop by indeed!” came a flustered female voice outside the door. “I didn’t come for you Black… I forgot a book.”
A flushing Stella Sinistra tried to push past Sirius, but he stood in her way, colliding with her. Remus had a hunch it was caused by a higher power and looked up to see the mistletoe strung above their heads.
“I like bumping into you,” Sirius said quietly, with that grin still lingering on his lips.
“Well, I don’t!” Stella shot fiercely, her black eyes narrowed.
She then attempted to detach herself from him, but found for some strange reason she could not. Her face grew hotter by the second and a sickening fear exploded in her stomach when she realized how very close she was to Sirius Black.
“Can you move, please?” she urged, making as if he were the problem, hoping it was just her nervousness that glued her feet to the floor.
“Not just yet,” he murmured smoothly, traveling a lone finger over the contour of her cheekbone.
She gulped and felt as if she would soon be sick in front of him. “What is it?” she tried to snap, but the words came out breathless as she locked eyes with the gray-eyed splendor… he was so handsome… almost intimidating.
“Mistletoe,” he said pointing, traveling his eyes aloft.
Stella’s mouth went dry, and she could feel the butterflies start to take flight in her stomach.
“Mistletoe?” the words had barely escaped her mouth when she found her lips trapped in Sirius’ own.
He worked passionately and when she finally realized what she had given into, it was too late. Her mind tried to communicate back to her hands to stop him, slap him, but they disobeyed, mindlessly drawing him near… and then she had control again.
Slap! Slap, slap, slap!
“You’re the vilest of vile!” Stella shrieked, and despite the number of times she had given him a whacking he was… laughing?
“You’re crazy!” She stood watching him overwhelmed and out of breath, secretly wishing he’d pull her in again, but he didn’t.
Sirius simply pushed off from the doorway, strutting down the hall, laughing, he had his fun.
Stella’s bottom lip trembled as she watched him go, her eyes clouded and she couldn’t help but mutter fiercely, “Jerk.”
It always hurt when it happened to you. She had done the same to so many others, but now she felt the pain herself and it was wretched.
Remus felt no sympathy, like Sirius, Stella had it coming.
“And so… and so…” cackled James, unable to finish his tale. He was rolling mad with laughter at the foot of Moony’s bed.
The hospital wing looked very festive, trimmed in holly and garland. Faerie lights had been strung around the posts of Moony’s bed, flashing brightly, giving him off a luminous glow, despite the patchy rashes still healing on his face. Moony grinned, watching James, finding the magical mistletoe a clever and amusing trick. Sirius lay on his back in the neighboring cot, helping Moony clear away one of his “sympathy” gifts, which at present was a large slab of chocolate.
James was red faced in his laughter and Remus was beginning to fear for his ability to withhold… ahem, himself.
“He says to her… pro- pro- professor come here, and she does… and-and Filch and McGonagall are stuck! Of course, I had actually planned Dumbledore and McGonagall, but this was better. You should have seen the look on their faces when Longbottom pointed out the mistletoe…”
“He and Alice sure had a go,” Sirius smirked, “I’d say we did a few people a charity today.”
“Yeah, so did McGonagall and Filch kiss or what?” Moony inquired eagerly.
James’ face fell a little. “Well, no--no they didn’t. McGonagall shriveled the stuff up with her wand… but it was bloody hilarious to watch at any rate-- ha! And the pair of first years under the doorway to Myrtle’s bathroom…”
“That’s a bit twisted though, isn’t it?” Sirius asked no one in particular, beaming ever so devilishly. “A boy and a girl entering the girls’ bathroom at the same time… if you asked me, they deserved it.”
There was a pause for a moment as Sirius stared, bemused into space recalling the beauty of the whole thing. Moony broke Sirius’ reverie.
“Didn’t catch Evans under one, did you Prongs?” he asked, raising a brow.
James’ face contorted morosely for a moment, but then he sighed and looked at his hands as he mumbled, “No, Alexandra Crane, actually. She didn’t seem to mind much, not that she was happy about it but… I don’t know where Evans flitted off to. One moment she was there… nearly mine, and the next, poof! Think she learned to Apparate?”
As James babbled on about the female of his dreams, Sirius was left to dwell on his interlude with Sinistra. She had responded favorably to him-- oh yes, she had...she had wanted more.
His insides melted a little at the thought. He touched the place on his cheek where it still stung from her slaps, recalling its heat… heat, and the warm thrilling pleasure of the kiss. It had been pleasurable, but he couldn’t feel happy about it. He had taken an eye for an eye, ensnaring her with a kiss that could never, would never mean anything. It had been his own cruel comeback to a month’s worth of jealousy, watching Stella fiddle from one boy to the next. She was still beautiful, still held that mystical aura that so captivated him, but oh! Girls were so much more confusing than he’d thought.
Coming to realize how tired he was, Sirius stood up, yawned greatly, and voiced his wish to depart.
“I’ll be right after you,” James called, and turned back to Moony.
Sirius ran a hand over his weary face as he exited the doors to the hospital wing, bumping into someone quite unexpected.
He barely caught sight of the voluminous waves of red hair and the slanting emerald eyes, when he blurted out, “Evans!” sounding ruder than intended.
He then looked down, remembering the time. It was ten after nine, not much past curfew, but Lily saw her prefect duties all the way through and he doubted she’d give him much slack. He wished he’d shown her a bit of courtesy.
“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have been standing so close to the door,” she said with an unusual amount of politeness, brushing some wayward wisps out of her face. Sirius had the dreadful feeling she would cheerfully be giving him detention in a minute and chose to save himself before Evans could think to spoil his evening.
“Please Evans, be merciful, it’s nearly Christmas. I have enough detentions to make up as it is,” he groaned.
She frowned momentarily and then threw her head back laughing, her smile dazzling with an angelic perfection. Sirius felt a jolt quite suddenly in his stomach and understood for the very first time why James fancied this one.
“Detention? No. Mind you, I’d have to give one to myself, see,” she laughed lightly.
What was with her? She never in a million years would speak so congenially to Sirius. He was tempted to believe her brain had been tweaked. But then, he never had given her so much, as the time-of-day before now. So how would he know anything about Lily Evans, a perfect stranger?
It was odd that there was such a lack of “inner-house unity” among the Gryffindors. The tight little band the Marauders had created was so exclusive, that rarely anyone was accepted into their social group. Even then they were still kept at a distance.
The epitome of “cool” was only to be looked at from afar. That is unless you were an attractive female in Sirius Black’s sights. Lily Evans was tipping onto his platter at the moment and he couldn’t help but give her a little flick with his eyes. He was feeling quite the womanizer today indeed.
“So what brings you, Evans, to these far corners of the castle?” Sirius grinned, his own charm working him wonders.
Lily caught his tone, and returned more taciturn, “I hoped to talk to someone.”
Sirius bit his lip, observing Lily’s petit curving frame, thinking dreadfully--dreadful thoughts.
Someone should really slap him, thought Remus, but then he remembered Sirius’ previous brawl with Sinistra and lamented that the event had had no effect on his moral whatsoever.
“You’re talking to someone now,” he said, one brow arching high and suggestive.
Lily’s smile, curved its way into a bitter smirk of scorn. “So I am. Have you seen Potter?” she sighed, suddenly restless.
Sirius did more than a double take. “Pardon?” he squeaked.
“Have you seen-- Potter…” she breathed out the word as her eyes landed on James who had just appeared at the door beside Sirius.
“Hey,” James grinned, his face brightening at the sight of Evans, and he shot a quick triumphant glance at Sirius. His face read signs of a Veela-entranced male, and Sirius sighed to himself, thinking, “Well, so much for that.”
“It’s a bit late for you, isn’t it, Evans?” James asked, resting an arm languidly on Sirius’ shoulder, sporting that debonair attitude that never seemed to work for him, not with Lily, anyway.
Lily opened her mouth, probably to retort back harshly, but Sirius answered for her. “She wanted to talk to someone,” he smirked.
“Really,” James’ wonderfully talented brows ascended into his hairline in mild curiosity, “Whom?”
Lily shifted uncomfortably in her place, looking down to the floor as she mumbled something inaudible.
“What was that?” Sirius asked.
Lily looked up, and with cracked voice and stammered with hesitation, “Well… I uh- I was wondering if”” she took a deep breath and blurted, “… James, can I speak to you?”
The words had clearly not registered, because James started blabbing in that cocky manner, “Well, you don’t need my permission to” wait, what?”
“Can I um, speak to you? Privately, that is.”
James looked behind him to ensure Lily was not talking to some unbeknownst soul. When he had established that the question was truly directed at him, he stood there a moment caught in a mixture of joy and disbelief.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Lily asked quickly, horrified at the idea of being rejected, she had made enough of a sacrifice coming thus far anyway.
“M-mind? No. No I don’t mind I… of course!” James stuttered completely miffed.
Lily’s face relaxed a little when James agreed, and a sense of relief washed over her. The worst was over at least.
Sirius had not noticed it before, but he saw now that in her hands she clutched a tiny golden ball, upon which faintly sketched writing was visible. He just barely made out an inscribed JP~LE, when he gasped, realizing the true nature of the golden ball.
“James,” he began slowly.
But Prongs barely took notice, attempting to cover up his previous blundering response. “Sure, of course, no, that’d be really um… lovely,” he ended awkwardly, hardly able to believe his own luck, however bewildered.
Both Lily and James glanced at Sirius inferring he “disappear” for a while. He took the notion a bit offensively and went indignantly rigid.
“Then you two better be off”chat, have a lovely time,” he said sardonically. Then raising his eyebrows with evident suspicion, “See you later Prongs… ‘Night, Evans,” he muttered her name very slyly, slipping her a suspecting glance, and off strutted Sirius Black.
What did he care about that measly little girl anyway? What did it matter about a Snitch--some stupid Snitch, it didn’t matter to Sirius Black at all.
Sirius reached the common room hoping for peace and quiet, but met something rather the opposite. Because of the magical mistletoe, many new couples had sprung up within the last five hours and to Sirius’ displeasure, they all seemed to be clinging to each other, completely unawares that ‘petting’ was not a public affair, especially in the common room.
Kissing couples were split apart by spit wads and catcalls, a group of fourth-years who were attempting to bewitch a wreath to sing, “Deck the Halls.” Which was not working particularly well… the wreath was howling a pitiful “Deck the Stalls” instead. Fabien Prewett, the Head Boy and “Pompous Slicker of the Year” (as Sirius called him), was boasting loudly of the divine Christmas present his girlfriend had given him in the broom cupboard. Along with all the holiday excitement, Sirius could not help but feel he was somehow responsible for all the commotion, and was then irritated with his own genius.
Still too giddy for sleep, Sirius stationed himself down in one of the few vacant fireside chairs and looked mildly around for some conversation.
“Sirius, mate!” a voice sounded from behind, “Get any exciting presents so far this year?”
It was Fabien. Sirius was not particularly keen on this chap, but engaged in conversation just the same, Fabien could be charming when his big head didn’t get in the way.
“Can’t say so,” Sirius sighed, grinning crookedly, he patted the armrest of the chair to his right. “C’mere and tell me about yours.” He hardly cared to be honest; he just needed someone to keep him awake while he waited for James to return.
Fabien smiled broadly, and swooped right down, running a palm across his sleek red hair. “Oh, there’s not much I can say around the kiddies,” he said, glancing quickly at a group of rambunctious first years by the Gryffindor notice board (like he really cared about tainting their precious ears). “But yes, it was… wonderful.”
“Was it?” Sirius asked aridly.
Fabien was oblivious to Sirius’ tone and chattered on with animation, “See that Sinistra girl today, my God she was in a huff!”
“Sinistra girl?” Sirius raised a brow. “I thought you went out with that ‘Sinistra girl’…”
“Yeah, well it obviously didn’t last,” Fabien interjected quickly. “But she was bawling her eyes out, and you think she might like some comfort, yikes, what a little prat!”
Sirius snorted, he could attest to that!
“She really should be in Slytherin; you know… her parents have gotten mixed up in all kinds of Muggle killings… shady blokes, if you take my meaning.”
But Sirius really didn’t take Fabien’s meaning, because something else had caught his eye, and attention. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed her before, nestled in the shadows, watching him, intently anxious. Elise looked particularly somber, much like the night nearly a month before, when Sirius lost his secret to her.
It hit him hard at that very moment. No matter how much he wished, tried, and wanted to forget it. Elise would always be a part of his past, and always know of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. He felt it a rather profound revelation, but a very bitter one at that. There she sat watching him, like a cat ready to pounce, those rich brown eyes aflame with something he couldn’t understand. He gathered these thoughts in a matter-of-seconds, and thankfully Fabien was too caught up in his own story to notice.
Sirius tore his eyes from her haunting gaze, feeling suddenly light headed… why did she make him feel like this?
“What do you think Sirius old-boy?” Fabien asked.
“Uh… what, sorry.”
“The Muggles are endangering us don’t you think? I mean, the pureblood families were here first, yours and mine, and well… I love Muggles just the same as any wizard, but when it comes right down to it, we were here first. It’s all a matter of first-come, first-serve! And then to accept them at school with us… it’s too much of a risk, don’t you think?”
This discussion irked Sirius and he wished to escape it entirely, along with Elise whose eyes seemed glued to him, it made things very uncomfortable. Damn, I wish James would hurry up, he thought. Elise, who had been playing the part of the silent listener with one brow raised and a frown, opened her mouth in response to Fabien’s remark.
“Excuse me, but I beg to differ.”
Fabien jumped at the sound of her voice, and recovered rudely giving her a judgmental flick with his eyes and sneering back, “Do you, Collier, because I don’t give damn!”
Elise pursed her lips and said, unfazed, “If it weren’t for Muggles, there wouldn’t be any purebloods, perhaps you failed to remember.”
She was making him look very stupid and Sirius felt a glow of admiration towards her, although it was something he’d never admit too.
“Shut up Collier, not all purebloods are mad asses like the Lestrange’s, just because you lost you’re old geezer is too much of a wacko, doesn’t mean we’re all in it for the
same””
Elise’s color drained and she lost the triumphant brightness in her eyes, Sirius had had enough.
“Shut up, Prewett,” he said quietly.
“What?” Fabien cried, “It’s been a month, you’d think she’d be over it!”
“Why don’t you shut-up?” Sirius asked, a little louder with more vehemence.
“Why should I, she intruded on our conversation! The little creep can’t deal with the fact that he’s good and dead and that it’s all over with! Girls are weak, weak little sissies… Muggles are weak!” he spat and rose from his seat, completely aware that he was no longer wanted in Sirius’ company.
A look of utmost horror spread across Elise’s face. The softness of her features plunged into a stricken scowl, and her eyes welled rapidly with a hot stream of tears. Sirius barely saw her whip them away, when she jumped from her seat and dashed, in a horrible mix of humiliation and despair, and dashed up the staircase to the girl’s dormitory.
He knew she rested there drowning in her sorrows, engulfing herself in a pit of grief… alone. She had no one--no one knew… except Sirius. He’d made up his mind before he knew it.
Everyone was looking away, he could go in now and no one would see him. Crouching in the corner, blending into the long dark shadows painted by the flickering firelight, Sirius controlled his every limb and felt himself shrink and shift to four legs in place of two.
No one noticed the great black dog creeping up the stair way to the girl’s dormitory, no one saw it disappear. Remus was apprehensive, but followed, ill at-ease at the thought of entering the girl’s dormitory.
Sirius’ gallivanted further up the tower, following the winding staircase up to the topmost chamber from which sobs issued.
He panted furiously; nervousness and a cold fear were budding in his chest. He stopped abruptly and his ears perked up. He’d reached the door half cracked open. He nudged gently against it, and entered.
With all but the moonlight shining through the panes, Sirius could just make out Elise’s crumpled figure, weeping uncontrollably on the farthest four-poster bed. She could not hear the gentle scratch of his paws against the floor as he approached, amongst her sobs, and so, when the loveable black lab poked its nose onto her bed, she jumped.
It took her a moment to gather herself and as she did so, she gazed at the canine’s gray-blue eyes piercing her own, wondering where and how she had seen them. It was as if her grief had blocked out any form of logical thought or memory. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, she ran her fingers the familiar silky, black hair along the dog’s back, mindlessly scratching behind its ears. It leapt boldly into the covers with her and she did not object. It was comforting and so strangely, she held onto it, never wanting to let go, burying her tears in its coat.
The dog let out a wistful moan and nestled itself in, amazed at how he, Sirius Black, could ever have longed for Stella Sinistra, how he had been so blind for so long not see Elise… and it scared him. He had never known this emotion before, was it love? He did not know, how could one measure it… he truly did not know.
Remus found himself, alone by the fireside, the cashew dish empty, and Sirius’ diary open, blank paged, its leaves wavering with a dull breeze. Nothing written? How strange, Remus thought, but then, things had happened to Sirius that words could not explain.