Story Title: Sew Unfocused
School: Hogwarts
Theme: Family Drama Muggles - Shaming the family name.
Main Prompt: [Dialogue] - "Common sense is like deodorant. The people who need it most, never use it."
Side Prompt: [Job] - Teacher
Side Prompt: [Speech] - "Don't you dare (insert action here)."
Year: First Year
Rating: K+
Beta: Chloe
Word Count: 3121 +10% leeway
Warnings: Muggles AU, otherwise none.
Author's Notes: Eton College is an all-boys boarding school in the UK. It allows girls from the nearby schools like St. George's or St. Mary's to be cast in female roles for stage productions at Eton. I have tried my best to explain the various sewing terminologies in the story and have kept it to an absolute minimum. In that vein, 'weathering' mean scuffing up and dirtying fabric to make it look old or actually dirty; it's not a typo. I have Regulus one year younger than Sirius. Sirius is 13 at the start of the story.
I hope you all love it!
.
.
Sew Unfocused
.
Sirius Black panted as he raced down the corridor; he was running from the cleaning lady. As a Black and a first year at Eton College, he was expected to be on his best behaviour and live up to the family name—that didn't include pulling a prank in the classroom.
It was harmless really; Sirius had been super gluing down the desk lids so they couldn't sit the test in the morning. At the end of the corridor, he saw a door he had never seen before; it was the first time he had come to this part of the school. Slipping through the fireproof doors, the first thing he saw was a giant stage and rows of seats. He knew he needed a good place to hide, so Sirius made his way towards the steps under the sign—Wardrobe Department.
Spotting rails of endless costumes in the corner, the small first year dived behind a green ball gown and hid himself from view; no one would look for him here. He leaned into the soft, luxurious fabric and realised it was made out of some kind of silk. The soft fabric was almost like a blanket, and it had so many layers it blocked out all the light.
His daydreaming ended abruptly when he heard ever-increasing voices enter the wardrobe area. His heart began to race as footsteps clattered closer. Sirius froze under the olive silk, praying he wouldn't get caught, but luck was not on his side. In an instant, he was exposed to the heavy floodlights, with a harsh sound as the hangers were split like the Red Sea. Sirius dared to look up at the Drama Director, Aurora Sinistra. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light.
"Well, who do we have here?" Aurora's voice was filled with mirth and humour. "You wouldn't happen to be Mr Black, would you? There's an irate lady outside looking for him." She raised her tweezed eyebrows down at the terrified first year and winked. "Don't worry, Sirius. I'm not going to turn you in." Sirius looked up in amazement.
"You're not? Why?" he asked in confusion.
"Do you want me to turn you in?" She inclined her head, in a challenging way. Sirius immediately shook his head, and the dark-skinned woman smiled. "Alright then! Since you can't go back for a while, you might as well make yourself useful." She walked over to the ball gown Sirius had hidden behind and took it off the rack and hanger. She fluidly draped it over a mannequin and zipped it up. Primping it out, it took over half the available floor space in the little room.
"An actress is coming tomorrow for rehearsals from St. Mary's and she needs this dress. You will steam iron it for me, since it is now, full of wrinkles. That's the thing about taffeta; it creases so easily. It's such a stiff fabric to work with."
When she handed him a steam iron, Sirius thought it looked a bit like a small vacuum cleaner. Apparently, it was super handy for ironing things that were impossible to flatten. Sirius began his task, starting with the embroidered bodice. Each stitch up close was absolutely perfect. Tracing his way down, he found himself admiring the iridescent material. It was soft like silk and just as glossy, but it was stiff and crisp.
Sirius became so engrossed in his work, that he didn't notice the soft smile flitting across the Director's face. Aurora watched him trace every embroidered stitch, every crease and wrinkle until every fold of the ballgown was smooth and perfect. He ghosted his fingers reverently along the fabric, careful not to damage or dirty it. He stepped back to admire his work, with a radiant smile and Aurora stood up from her desk.
"Finished already?" When the boy nodded, Aurora crossed her arms and smiled. "Excellent! How would you like to help me with something else? I have a feeling you have a talent for working with fabrics." Sirius nodded again, more enthusiastically and she knew her instincts were spot on; this one was special and she would teach him everything she knew. "Come on, I'm going to teach you how to cut a pattern and use a sewing machine. You'll be an expert in no time."
The little first year followed her eagerly, already completely hooked. It was the beginning of how Sirius Black fell in love with the craft of sewing.
A year later, Sirius had turned fourteen and his brother, Regulus joined him at Eton College. The two brothers were relaxing in Sirius' room, both deeply absorbed in their own work. At the sound of a groan, Regulus looked up from his business studies homework at his brother. Sirius was sitting Indian style on his bed, surrounded by bundles of sheer fabric pieces, bobby pins and thick paper towels.
"Aren't you supposed to be working on your maths homework, Sirius? Why are you still playing with that stuff?" When Sirius didn't answer, Regulus pressed on. "If father hears you didn't hand in your homework again, he'll be angry." Sirius scoffed.
"He'll be angry whether I hand it in or not. He always finds something to be angry about." Sirius huffed at the fabric. "Urgh, why is chiffon so slippery!"
Regulus eyed the fabric in question and looked at his brother. He had known about Sirius's love for sewing for the past year and faithfully kept his brothers secret. He, on the other hand, had diligently done as their father wanted and began working towards joining the family law firm. Regulus had their father's knack for business and wanted to go into corporate law. His father was already very proud of his noble goal. Sirius, however, seemed to be immune to the family disdain.
"What are you working on, Sirius?" Regulus asked quietly.
"I'm making a skirt for a fitted dancer's dress. It'll flow and move on stage during the performance, but be light enough not to impede them." Sirius replied, with his eyes firmly fixed on his work. He took the two pinned layers of chiffon and lined them up against the paper towels. "I'm adding tissue to the fabric, but every time I take a pin out, it moves. Chiffon is so hard to work with, but I got the tip from Michael Kors in Marie Claire. He said the tissue really helps get the fabric to go through the machine more easily and get nice straight seams, and when it's done you just rip off the paper. He said french seams are best with chiffon because it's so prone to fraying."
Regulus looked at the magazine at the foot of the bed and knew their father would be furious if he knew about it. "It sounds really hard, brother, but I'm sure you'll manage it. You found weathering fabrics tough during the Oliver Twist play, but you nailed it in the end."
Sirius smiled, finally looking at his younger brother. "Thanks, Reggie. The tissue is actually helping. Michael really knows his stuff; I don't think there's a garment in the world that man can't make. He's amazing!"
"I'll take your word for it. Father sent me a subscription of an accounting magazine. It's not quite as trendy as Heidi Klum's Oscar dress." The two brothers laughed, and the small room fell silent again. A few moments later, Regulus murmured, "Father will find out, Sirius, eventually. He won't understand your passion for the arts; he won't support this."
A grim look passed between the two Black's. The Black's were a well-known family who usually became lawyers or doctors; they expected greatness from their sons and daughters. None had ever broken the mould and studied the arts before. Not to mention, sewing was considered unmanly by their father, Orion. If he ever caught Sirius with a fashion magazine or a sewing machine, there would be hell to pay.
"I don't care if he cuts me off, Reggie. I'll get a job and pay my own way; I don't need father telling me what I can or can't do," he sighed, and Regulus shot him a sympathetic look. "I'm good at this, Reggie. I even started making my portfolio. I learn more and more with each production I work on at Eton. Director Sinistra thinks I have what it takes to get into the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama."
Regulus gasped, "The drama school at the University of London? That's amazing, Sirius!"
Sirius smiled before his expression burned with determination. "I won't stop, Reggie. There's nothing I love to do more than sew and nothing father says will change my mind."
Regulus smiled. "Good. Follow your dream, brother. Never forget; Black's are extraordinary. Each and every one."
Sirius chuckled and nodded. "That they are, Reggie. That they are."
It was the summer holidays, and both boys had returned home from school. Sirius and Regulus were now fifteen and fourteen, respectively. Sirius had just sat his G.C.S.E.'s, and his father was not impressed. He called his sons into his home study. The walls were lined with case files and law books.
"Sirius, you are my eldest son, and these results," he waved the sheet of paper in the air, " are mediocre for a Black. I expected better."
Sirius said nothing and stared glumly at the wooden floor. Regulus sneaked a concerned look at his brother the second Orion turned his back. When their father returned to his original position, the tall man sighed and looked down at his firstborn.
"Sirius, I push you because I know you can do better than this. You're incredibly intelligent, but you waste your time instead of embracing the Eton experience. Nineteen prime ministers and countless monarchs and noblemen have attended Eton College! The Queen's own children and grandchildren were old Etonians. Instead, you waste your time, messing around! You're unfocused and lazy. Give me one good reason why I should pay for you to continue to study at Eton?"
Sirius remained silent, so Regulus rushed to his brother's aid. Clearing his throat a little, was enough to shift their father's attention back to the younger son. "Father, if you remove Sirius from Eton, people will talk. He'll be the first Black to be transferred; it would be an embarrassment, and I don't think we need that kind of attention. I think Sirius just needs another chance to prove himself, don't you agree, father?"
The old Black snorted, before bursting into a fit of booming laughter. Both boys stiffened at the volume, neither moved a muscle. Finally, Orion returned his attention to the two boys and began nodding his head as he looked them both up and down, with his sharp gaze.
"You'll make a fantastic lawyer, Regulus. We have a saying at the office," he said "Common sense is like deodorant. The people who need it most, never use it." Pointing at Sirius, he continued. "You have that common sense, Sirius, but you're not using it. It's time you knuckled down and made the most of your time at Eton. I expect you to do well in your A-Levels and get into Cambridge. Now, go on both of you, I expect your mother has dinner on the table."
Sirius left in a flash, but Regulus took his time. Orion glanced at him and said, "Did I see Sirius reading a women's magazine earlier?"
Regulus froze and flushed scarlet. His father raised an eyebrow. "I-it wasn't a w-women's magazine, father." He lowered his voice significantly. "It was a dirty magazine."
His father narrowed his eyes, before breaking out into the same laughter as earlier. Regulus took that as his cue to leave and heard his father chuckle to himself.
"Ah the Black men, they're all the same."
In his fifth and final year at Eton, the work in the wardrobe department really started to heat up for Sirius. Aurora was relentless, and Sirius had to work into the early hours of the mornings to get his work done. His efforts were paying off, and his portfolio was looking impressive. Today, he and Aurora were meeting a member of the Board of Admissions at the University of London.
When the man welcomed them inside his office, Sirius nervously clutched his portfolio to his chest. The man had a jovial expression and greeted Director Sinistra warmly.
"Aurora! Good to see you again!" Glancing at Sirius, he beamed. "This must be the young man, you were telling me about. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sirius Black. I'm Thomas Knightly. Now let's see that portfolio of yours."
Thomas went over the first few photographs and began asking questions. "I like the volume, you achieved in this costume. Tell me more about it."
Sirius looked at the fifties inspired skater outfit and spoke, "The actress had to skate around and dance, so I think the tulle helped the skirt play to her youth and movement on stage. A flat skirt would have taken away from the playful vibe we were going for, I had to use three layers of tulle for it."
The man nodded. "A smart choice! Now tell me more about this Oliver Twist production."
"I used tea bags and soil to weather the costumes to give the street urchins a more realistic feel. I had to make them dirty, so they looked impoverished." Thomas inclined his head, in a pleased way at Sirius's words.
"Tea bags, that's so innovative. A lot of the time, wardrobe staff will hand this work over to the makeup, or art department, where they use paints and sponges to weather the clothes." He flipped the page. "It says here, you used upholstery fabric for this period piece?"
"Yes," Sirius replied. "This character was a Shakespearean king and ideally we would have used a brocade, but budget requirements meant we had to find something that had the same look, but not the same price tag. I think it turned out well."
"Well? It's usually used for sofas, and to think you turned it into a king's outfit! Now, this last piece is stunning." Looking at the portfolio, the man read aloud to himself, "chiffon, lining silk and silk satin." Looking up at Sirius, the man looked amazed. Aurora nodded as if to say, 'I told you.' "You lined chiffon?"
Sirius glanced at the man curiously. "The skirt of this dancing outfit is shredded in individual pieces, and even with copious layers, the dancer was self-conscious in it. I had some extra time and added strips of the same shaped pieces of lining and covered her up as best I could. I added a french seam along the side panels so it'll last for years without falling apart."
Thomas shook his head in shock. "Innovative, smart with fabrics and techniques. Excellent time management skills. You take into account what the garment has to do on stage, even colour choice for the lighting department." The man clasped his hand as he leaned across the table. He gestured to the portfolio with a nod of his head.
"Sirius, most of our first-year undergraduates can't begin to apply this level of technique, particularly on this range of fabrics. Your choices though! You think about the entire show. The Royal Central School for Speech and Drama would be very lucky to have you next year. I think the BA in Costume Construction would be perfect for you. I will be recommending you and a copy of your portfolio to the rest of the Board."
He stood up and shook Sirius's hand, before wrapping up the meeting with Aurora. Sirius could only sit dumbfounded in his chair, he was so incredibly happy. Deep down, Sirius knew he had what it took to follow his dream. Nothing would stop him, he had promised himself years ago, he would do whatever it took to succeed. Now it felt like he had, he just needed a letter of acceptance and he had achieved his dream.
Sirius looked down at the letter; it had just arrived. This was it, the moment of truth. Regulus clapped him on the back.
"Well go on! Open it!" he urged.
Sirius tore into the letter and braced himself before he began reading.
'Dear Mr Black,
Congratulations! We are delighted to welcome you to attend the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama, for our next academic year. You have been accepted to study a Bachelor of Arts in Costume Construction-'
"I did it!" Sirius exclaimed. Regulus beamed at his brother.
"Oh Sirius, I so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"
"Do what?"
Both boys spun around at the sound of their father's voice. Guilty looks passed over their faces. It was time to come clean. Orion looked at them expectantly.
"I've been accepted into college, father." He handed his father the letter. Orion smiled widely at his son.
"This is fantastic, Sirius," he said, not having glanced at the letter yet. "I didn't think the acceptance letters for Cambridge would be here so soon. You must have made an impression, eh son?" Sirius held his breath as their father finally began reading the letter and the boys watched his face drop.
"What's the meaning of this! Sewing?" he spluttered. "I won't allow it!"
Sirius immediately squared up to his father. "Don't you dare tell me what I can or can't do! It's my life, and I'm eighteen now. I want to sew! I'm really good at it." Orion simply fumed at his son as he continued to speak his mind. "I've been sewing in the drama department at Eton since first year, and I love it! Nothing will stop me from following my dream, and if you can't accept it, that's fine. I have no problem getting a job and paying my own way from now on, but I am going to that college. They don't just let anybody in, father."
"This is what you want to do? Sewing?" his father demanded.
"Yes! I don't expect you to understand." Regulus admired his brother's tenacity but feared what their father would say about it.
"You're right, I don't understand. I probably never will, but there's one thing I do understand. Guts. What you just did; it took guts. As you're serious about this, then The Black family is behind you, son," he sighed and then smiled at his son. Sirius and Regulus looked at the father, dumbfounded before huge identical grins broke out on their faces.
"Of course I'm Sirius about it, father!"
"Good, because it's up to you to explain this to your mother…"
Expressions of sheer horror broke out on his face, while Orion and Regulus burst out laughing. Sirius gulped and grabbed the letter, ignoring the two chortling men behind him.
"Mother? I have something to tell you…"
The End