A/N: Thanks for giving this little piece of fiction a try! This is co-
written by Angela (me) and Erin - but she doesn't know that I'm posting it.
Her birthday's on the 20th of February ...do you think you all could leave
some nice reviews for me to give to her as a present? Hope you like it!
*
Sirius considered himself to be a pretty tough bloke. He never backed down from a dare, no prank was too risky, and he had long ago squelched his fear of toads. And although sometimes he still got squeamish during Potions, overall there was very little that could faze him.
But there was one thing that admittedly terrified him: his "noble and most ancient" family.
Not that he was afraid of the people themselves - he was accustomed to their quirks, zanities, and endless rants about the importance of heritage. What really worried him was the prospect of anyone finding out that not only were the people he'd grown up with rabid purebloods, they were raving lunatics, too.
Which made it seem like a bad idea, in retrospect, to invite his three best friends to the Black Family Reunion.
But he had, and said friends would be arriving at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place any moment. That was why he was currently trying to prepare his room, making sure there was no silver or dirty knickers lying about. Unfortunately, the house-elf did not like some of these changes, and when Sirius was not looking, Kreacher was putting the silver back. Sirius did not like this.
"Kreacher!" the black-haired Black roared when he saw the silver door handles had reappeared, and the brass ones he'd taken the time to attach in the Muggle fashion had vanished.
"What does young master wish?" the house elf that reminded Sirius of his greasy classmate asked.
"Why did you put those bloody silver door handles back?!"
Kreacher wrapped his fingers in his newly-washed outfit, leaving large grease stains where his fingers had touched the white cloth.
"Mistress demanded, young master. All door handles must match. Brass so mudblood."
"MUM!" Sirius yelled, running towards her bedroom where he knew she'd be. Sure enough, he found her at her vanity, surrounded by house elves.
"Sirius," she began in an annoyed tone, "How many times must I tell you not to yell across the house? It's distasteful."
"Why did you tell that bloody Kreacher to change my door knob?" he demanded angrily.
"I should this that would be obvious to one of your upbringing," his mum replied in an aloof manner, as she casually shot polish from her wand onto her long fingernails.
"It's my room!" Sirius snapped. "I could put pink door handles on it if I wanted to!"
Mrs. Black cringed at the suggestion. "I certainly didn't raise you to be so selfish," she snapped.
"I'm not bloody being selfish!"
"And stop swearing."
"You don't understand, mum - " His voice took on a more pleading quality. "I can't have a silver doorknob ..."
"Stop being ridiculous; of course you can have a silver doorknob. I know you're loathe to anything even slightly classy, but it won't kill you."
"But mum - "
"And besides," she interrupted, ignoring Sirius's angry protest. "You don't see Regulus trying to sabotage our family gathering."
"I'm not trying to sabotage anything, I just want my brass door handles back!"
"Sirius," Mrs. Back replied with a sigh. "This is incredibly tiresome. Return to your room and wait for your guests to arrive."
"I'm not bloody well going anywhere until - "
"Excuse me, mistress, master," a terrified-looking house elf squeaked from the doorway. "Young master's friends have arrived."
*
After years and years of being best friends with Sirius, it was remarkable how seldom James, Remus, and Peter had been inside his house. Looking around the medieval-style parlor where the house elf had sent them to wait, James decided that this was a good thing. There was far too little light and far too much gloom for his liking. He had a feeling that this parlor was styled very much like the Slytherin dungeon. He didn't particularly care for it.
"Well, this is . . . cozy," said Remus, as he studied that room. James and Peter both gave him a long, incredulous look, and the werewolf shrugged. "Some people might think so."
Peter snorted. "Yeah, people who belong in St. Mungo's."
They lapsed into silence as the boys studied the room. Remus noticed uneasily that everything seemed to be made of silver, from the enormous chandelier, to the frames on the portraits covering the walls, to the gigantic claws at the feet of the sofa they were sitting on. James was most interested in the portraits - he had never seen baby photos of Sirius, and hoped to find one. But most of the painting seemed to feature old men, probably his friend's ancestors, judging by the squinty black eyes that they all seemed to have. The most interesting one, however, was fairly recent, and showed Sirius's immediate family. The portly, though far from jolly, Mr. Black was in the background, while a grumpy-looking Sirius and smiling younger brother stood in front of him. Sitting on a stool in the front was Mrs. Black's skeletal form. James thought she looked like a banshee. But the most interesting part of the painting was how Sirius kept attempting to sneak away, and each time he kept getting caught and pulled back by his ear. James had to laugh.
The sudden sounds of shouting drifted through the house, and while they couldn't make out the words, the Marauders definitely know the voice.
"Idiotic git," James grumbled, quite unable to understand why Sirius would get into a shouting match just when his friends arrived. But then again, there was a lot he did not understand about Sirius.
"Hello," said a voice from behind the couch. The three teens turned and were greeted with the sight of Sirius's younger brother, Regulus. "You must be Sirius's horribly inferior friends." The three were quite stunned, and found themselves unable to say anything as the youngest Black studied them. "Of course, if your intellect matches your breeding, I can see why my less than astounding brother would be fond of you."
James, Peter, and Remus all exchanged a look that plainly said, "Did we just get insulted by a fourteen year old?" They goggled at him for a moment, before Remus, the most diplomatic of the three, jumped to his feet and held out his hand for his friend's brother to shake.
"You must be Regulus. My name is Remus Lupin; pleased to meet you."
Regulus looked at Remus's hand as if it was diseased, and then daintily shook it. He was clearly surprised that Remus would try to be friendly, after he had tried his hardest to be nasty and unwelcoming.
James gave a slight wave, but didn't stand up. "James Potter."
"Peter Pettigrew," said the other boy, also avoiding standing up.
Regulus nodded, but said nothing. He was clearly at a loss of words. No one had ever actually talked to him when he had insulted them in such a manner.
"Can't that bloody witch get it through her thick skull?" All turned to look at Sirius as he stormed into the room, scowling and grumbling to himself. "I can't have silver door handles because -- Oh, hello." He stopped short when he saw his friends.
"Hello, Padfoot!" said James, coming over to Sirius and giving him a nice, masculine slap on the back.
Sirius nodded solemnly. "Prongs. Moony. Wormtail." His gaze hardened when it landed on his brother. "What exactly are you doing down here, Regulus? I thought you'd be hiding your dolls."
"I do NOT play with dolls!" Regulus protested, bristling. "They were left here by one of our cousins during Christmas, and I was simply safe- keeping them!"
"Right," Sirius said skeptically. "Sure."
"Besides, that's nothing compared to what you keep under your mattress."
Sirius paled while Regulus smirked.
"What's this about, Padfoot?" James asked mischievously.
"It's nothing, he doesn't know what he's talking about -- " Sirius began quickly, but Regulus interrupted.
"Nut-uh! He keeps pictures of - oof!" He was cut off as Sirius tackled him to the floor and sealed his hand over his mouth.
"Shut up, you good for nothing worm!" Sirius hissed at his brother. Regulus mumbled something through Sirius's hand and struggled to escape his brother's grasp. He was hit hard for his troubles.
"Padfoot?"
"What, James? I'm a bit busy here."
"What pictures are under your bed?"
"Prat," was his only answer.
On the floor, Regulus began struggling again, and again he was hit.
"Sirius, it's been a bit of a long journey." Remus paused to allow Sirius to beat up on his brother again. "Would you mind telling me where the loo is?"
"Just a - " Punch. " - moment - " Punch. " - Remus - "
"Umm, maybe you should let him go?" Peter suggested meekly.
"Eh?" said Sirius, relenting on the hitting, but taking a seat firmly on Regulus's stomach, and keeping his hand on his mouth.
"Well, don't you think he's had enough ... ?"
"Have you had enough?" Sirius asked his little brother. Regulus nodded furiously. "Good."
As soon as Sirius began to stand up, Regulus jumped up and rushed to the grand staircase. "Mum's going to hear about this," he said imperiously, and then darted up the stairs.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
"Are you always like this with him?" Remus asked.
"More or less," Sirius admitted, brushing himself off as he stood. He looked at his friends and smiled. "So, who wants the grand tour of hell?"
"Sirius!"
"What? It's true," he grumbled, leading his friends out of the parlor and down the hallway. Their first stop was the bathroom.
"Here you go, Remus. The most normal room in the whole house."
"Um . . . " was all Remus could say as he stared at the closed door.
"You can go in," Sirius said, "there's no one in there."
"Um . . . " Remus pointed at the door handle/
"Oh yeah!" Sirius exclaimed, hitting his forehead. "Sorry, Remus." He opened the door for his friend, and then realized something. "Uh, Moony, like everything in there is silver. It's kind of my mum's thing, she uses it everywhere."
"Oh. Um. Well . . . "
" . . . yeah."
"Would any of you happen to have a pair of gloves?"
"I can get some, why?" asked Sirius.
"I could put the gloves on and deal with it that way."
"I thought you said that didn't work," Peter piped up.
"Yeah, Pete's right. I remember you telling us that."
Remus shrugged. "I can still feel it burning me, it just doesn't happen as fast."
Sirius scowled. "So basically, you're going to use the gloves as an insulator that doesn't work."
"Basically, yes. But they'll work well enough for this."
"I don't like this," said James.
"None of us do," said Sirius.
"Remus, this is silly. We can go in with you," James offered.
"Um . . . okay." Remus wasn't quite sure what to say. After all, it's not every day that your friends offer to go to the bathroom with you.
"You guys?" squeaked Peter. "I don't think there's room for four people in there."
"I really don't need three people with me. I suppose one should be fine."
"You do have a point, Moony," said James.
"So, how should be decided who goes in with Remus?" Sirius asked.
"Um, pick a number?" Remus offered.
"Okay," James said.
"Alright, I got one."
"Seven," said Peter.
"Three," said Sirius.
"Ten," said James.
"It was four," said Remus, slightly nervously.
"Oh, that's me," Sirius said, shrugging. "Come on, Moony."
Peter and James stood in the hall, thinking about how incredibly odd their situation was. How many other teenage boys had to go into the lavatory with their friend? James was willing to be not many.
"James?"
"Yes, Peter?"
"This is really strange, isn't it?"
"Yes, Pete. This is really strange."
The two waited in silence until Sirius and Remus emerged.
"All right, now onto the grand tour," Sirius said brightly. His friends nodded, and were soon being shown around the rather depressing home.
*
A/N: Don't for get to leave Erin a nice birthday message ...
*
Sirius considered himself to be a pretty tough bloke. He never backed down from a dare, no prank was too risky, and he had long ago squelched his fear of toads. And although sometimes he still got squeamish during Potions, overall there was very little that could faze him.
But there was one thing that admittedly terrified him: his "noble and most ancient" family.
Not that he was afraid of the people themselves - he was accustomed to their quirks, zanities, and endless rants about the importance of heritage. What really worried him was the prospect of anyone finding out that not only were the people he'd grown up with rabid purebloods, they were raving lunatics, too.
Which made it seem like a bad idea, in retrospect, to invite his three best friends to the Black Family Reunion.
But he had, and said friends would be arriving at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place any moment. That was why he was currently trying to prepare his room, making sure there was no silver or dirty knickers lying about. Unfortunately, the house-elf did not like some of these changes, and when Sirius was not looking, Kreacher was putting the silver back. Sirius did not like this.
"Kreacher!" the black-haired Black roared when he saw the silver door handles had reappeared, and the brass ones he'd taken the time to attach in the Muggle fashion had vanished.
"What does young master wish?" the house elf that reminded Sirius of his greasy classmate asked.
"Why did you put those bloody silver door handles back?!"
Kreacher wrapped his fingers in his newly-washed outfit, leaving large grease stains where his fingers had touched the white cloth.
"Mistress demanded, young master. All door handles must match. Brass so mudblood."
"MUM!" Sirius yelled, running towards her bedroom where he knew she'd be. Sure enough, he found her at her vanity, surrounded by house elves.
"Sirius," she began in an annoyed tone, "How many times must I tell you not to yell across the house? It's distasteful."
"Why did you tell that bloody Kreacher to change my door knob?" he demanded angrily.
"I should this that would be obvious to one of your upbringing," his mum replied in an aloof manner, as she casually shot polish from her wand onto her long fingernails.
"It's my room!" Sirius snapped. "I could put pink door handles on it if I wanted to!"
Mrs. Black cringed at the suggestion. "I certainly didn't raise you to be so selfish," she snapped.
"I'm not bloody being selfish!"
"And stop swearing."
"You don't understand, mum - " His voice took on a more pleading quality. "I can't have a silver doorknob ..."
"Stop being ridiculous; of course you can have a silver doorknob. I know you're loathe to anything even slightly classy, but it won't kill you."
"But mum - "
"And besides," she interrupted, ignoring Sirius's angry protest. "You don't see Regulus trying to sabotage our family gathering."
"I'm not trying to sabotage anything, I just want my brass door handles back!"
"Sirius," Mrs. Back replied with a sigh. "This is incredibly tiresome. Return to your room and wait for your guests to arrive."
"I'm not bloody well going anywhere until - "
"Excuse me, mistress, master," a terrified-looking house elf squeaked from the doorway. "Young master's friends have arrived."
*
After years and years of being best friends with Sirius, it was remarkable how seldom James, Remus, and Peter had been inside his house. Looking around the medieval-style parlor where the house elf had sent them to wait, James decided that this was a good thing. There was far too little light and far too much gloom for his liking. He had a feeling that this parlor was styled very much like the Slytherin dungeon. He didn't particularly care for it.
"Well, this is . . . cozy," said Remus, as he studied that room. James and Peter both gave him a long, incredulous look, and the werewolf shrugged. "Some people might think so."
Peter snorted. "Yeah, people who belong in St. Mungo's."
They lapsed into silence as the boys studied the room. Remus noticed uneasily that everything seemed to be made of silver, from the enormous chandelier, to the frames on the portraits covering the walls, to the gigantic claws at the feet of the sofa they were sitting on. James was most interested in the portraits - he had never seen baby photos of Sirius, and hoped to find one. But most of the painting seemed to feature old men, probably his friend's ancestors, judging by the squinty black eyes that they all seemed to have. The most interesting one, however, was fairly recent, and showed Sirius's immediate family. The portly, though far from jolly, Mr. Black was in the background, while a grumpy-looking Sirius and smiling younger brother stood in front of him. Sitting on a stool in the front was Mrs. Black's skeletal form. James thought she looked like a banshee. But the most interesting part of the painting was how Sirius kept attempting to sneak away, and each time he kept getting caught and pulled back by his ear. James had to laugh.
The sudden sounds of shouting drifted through the house, and while they couldn't make out the words, the Marauders definitely know the voice.
"Idiotic git," James grumbled, quite unable to understand why Sirius would get into a shouting match just when his friends arrived. But then again, there was a lot he did not understand about Sirius.
"Hello," said a voice from behind the couch. The three teens turned and were greeted with the sight of Sirius's younger brother, Regulus. "You must be Sirius's horribly inferior friends." The three were quite stunned, and found themselves unable to say anything as the youngest Black studied them. "Of course, if your intellect matches your breeding, I can see why my less than astounding brother would be fond of you."
James, Peter, and Remus all exchanged a look that plainly said, "Did we just get insulted by a fourteen year old?" They goggled at him for a moment, before Remus, the most diplomatic of the three, jumped to his feet and held out his hand for his friend's brother to shake.
"You must be Regulus. My name is Remus Lupin; pleased to meet you."
Regulus looked at Remus's hand as if it was diseased, and then daintily shook it. He was clearly surprised that Remus would try to be friendly, after he had tried his hardest to be nasty and unwelcoming.
James gave a slight wave, but didn't stand up. "James Potter."
"Peter Pettigrew," said the other boy, also avoiding standing up.
Regulus nodded, but said nothing. He was clearly at a loss of words. No one had ever actually talked to him when he had insulted them in such a manner.
"Can't that bloody witch get it through her thick skull?" All turned to look at Sirius as he stormed into the room, scowling and grumbling to himself. "I can't have silver door handles because -- Oh, hello." He stopped short when he saw his friends.
"Hello, Padfoot!" said James, coming over to Sirius and giving him a nice, masculine slap on the back.
Sirius nodded solemnly. "Prongs. Moony. Wormtail." His gaze hardened when it landed on his brother. "What exactly are you doing down here, Regulus? I thought you'd be hiding your dolls."
"I do NOT play with dolls!" Regulus protested, bristling. "They were left here by one of our cousins during Christmas, and I was simply safe- keeping them!"
"Right," Sirius said skeptically. "Sure."
"Besides, that's nothing compared to what you keep under your mattress."
Sirius paled while Regulus smirked.
"What's this about, Padfoot?" James asked mischievously.
"It's nothing, he doesn't know what he's talking about -- " Sirius began quickly, but Regulus interrupted.
"Nut-uh! He keeps pictures of - oof!" He was cut off as Sirius tackled him to the floor and sealed his hand over his mouth.
"Shut up, you good for nothing worm!" Sirius hissed at his brother. Regulus mumbled something through Sirius's hand and struggled to escape his brother's grasp. He was hit hard for his troubles.
"Padfoot?"
"What, James? I'm a bit busy here."
"What pictures are under your bed?"
"Prat," was his only answer.
On the floor, Regulus began struggling again, and again he was hit.
"Sirius, it's been a bit of a long journey." Remus paused to allow Sirius to beat up on his brother again. "Would you mind telling me where the loo is?"
"Just a - " Punch. " - moment - " Punch. " - Remus - "
"Umm, maybe you should let him go?" Peter suggested meekly.
"Eh?" said Sirius, relenting on the hitting, but taking a seat firmly on Regulus's stomach, and keeping his hand on his mouth.
"Well, don't you think he's had enough ... ?"
"Have you had enough?" Sirius asked his little brother. Regulus nodded furiously. "Good."
As soon as Sirius began to stand up, Regulus jumped up and rushed to the grand staircase. "Mum's going to hear about this," he said imperiously, and then darted up the stairs.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
"Are you always like this with him?" Remus asked.
"More or less," Sirius admitted, brushing himself off as he stood. He looked at his friends and smiled. "So, who wants the grand tour of hell?"
"Sirius!"
"What? It's true," he grumbled, leading his friends out of the parlor and down the hallway. Their first stop was the bathroom.
"Here you go, Remus. The most normal room in the whole house."
"Um . . . " was all Remus could say as he stared at the closed door.
"You can go in," Sirius said, "there's no one in there."
"Um . . . " Remus pointed at the door handle/
"Oh yeah!" Sirius exclaimed, hitting his forehead. "Sorry, Remus." He opened the door for his friend, and then realized something. "Uh, Moony, like everything in there is silver. It's kind of my mum's thing, she uses it everywhere."
"Oh. Um. Well . . . "
" . . . yeah."
"Would any of you happen to have a pair of gloves?"
"I can get some, why?" asked Sirius.
"I could put the gloves on and deal with it that way."
"I thought you said that didn't work," Peter piped up.
"Yeah, Pete's right. I remember you telling us that."
Remus shrugged. "I can still feel it burning me, it just doesn't happen as fast."
Sirius scowled. "So basically, you're going to use the gloves as an insulator that doesn't work."
"Basically, yes. But they'll work well enough for this."
"I don't like this," said James.
"None of us do," said Sirius.
"Remus, this is silly. We can go in with you," James offered.
"Um . . . okay." Remus wasn't quite sure what to say. After all, it's not every day that your friends offer to go to the bathroom with you.
"You guys?" squeaked Peter. "I don't think there's room for four people in there."
"I really don't need three people with me. I suppose one should be fine."
"You do have a point, Moony," said James.
"So, how should be decided who goes in with Remus?" Sirius asked.
"Um, pick a number?" Remus offered.
"Okay," James said.
"Alright, I got one."
"Seven," said Peter.
"Three," said Sirius.
"Ten," said James.
"It was four," said Remus, slightly nervously.
"Oh, that's me," Sirius said, shrugging. "Come on, Moony."
Peter and James stood in the hall, thinking about how incredibly odd their situation was. How many other teenage boys had to go into the lavatory with their friend? James was willing to be not many.
"James?"
"Yes, Peter?"
"This is really strange, isn't it?"
"Yes, Pete. This is really strange."
The two waited in silence until Sirius and Remus emerged.
"All right, now onto the grand tour," Sirius said brightly. His friends nodded, and were soon being shown around the rather depressing home.
*
A/N: Don't for get to leave Erin a nice birthday message ...