A Conversation with Buckbeak
Chapter One: Toasting Marshmallows
Sirius Black paced the length of the small cave enclosed in the Scottish mountainside that had become his most recent hideaway. It had been to long since he'd last spoken to a person face to face. There had been a time in his life when talking, laughing, and just being with people had been more natural than breathing. That part of his life had passed long ago. Still every now and then he caught himself simply yearning for the sounds of people.
He found that if he pushed his mind to its limits he could remember a time that had been entirely made of laughter. Now in the solitude of the night it became easier to recall everything. There had been thousands of trips under a silvery cloak and meetings in the middle of the night filled with combinations of real plotting and lots of wishful thinking. Then there was the entire year they'd spent tormenting the Slytherins. Part of every year was spent tormenting the Slytherins, but that year had been different. It had been their major goal. The Gryffindor and Slytherin feud had existed long before them, but he liked to think that the Marauders had added something interesting to it.
"We were quite a clever team," he mumbled to himself, stroking his three-day beard as he gazed out the opening to the cave at the star filled sky. His voice echoed into the distance and to him his voice sounded flat from lack of use.
Buckbeak cocked his head and squawked as if in respond to the statement. Sirius broke his pace and shot him a look. To him the squawk had sounded a little bit like a snort of disbelief.
"We were," he insisted giving the bird a dark scowl as if he had dared to disagree with him. "When we set our minds to something we accomplished it."
Buckbeak simply continued to stare at him as if waiting for him to continue. He scratched the stone floor of the cave with one of his talons impatiently when Sirius didn't speak again. Maybe he wasn't the only one that had been craving conversation.
"We pulled off the sort of pranks that legends are made of and I'll be damned if Snape doesn't have nightmares to this day about them," Sirius stated gruffly as he raked his hands through his dark hair. It struck him that he was talking to an overgrown bird and he wondered if those last strands of treasured sanity were slipping away from him. He'd survived Azkaban, escaped with his mind, only to lose it to now. Perhaps he should stop talking, but he wanted the noise so what the hell- he'd live dangerously.
"I can see now that there's no real beginning, but we did most of our plotting late at night…
~~~~~
"Where is he?"
"Bet you he got another detention."
"No - he's had one every day this week. Even he can't be that stupid."
"Bet you that bag of marshmallows."
"Alright."
As the three boys sat in a solitary semi-circle around the fire, pokers decked out with marshmallows stuck right into the blazing depths of the flickering flames, the portrait door to Gryffindor Tower swung noisily open on squeaky hinges before banging angrily shut once more. A fourth boy - and the accomplice upon whom the others impatiently waited - stormed across the common room in long strides, raking a hand through wild black hair.
"Damned if I don't break every bone in his slimy body this year," he muttered. "That flaming son of a bitch. Finally pushed his luck too far. This time he won't -" Pausing in mid-rant, the boy glanced over at the others, taking a few steps backward to glare accusingly at them. "You're roasting the damned marshmallows. Without me."
James Potter glanced casually over to his friend, attempting to conceal a grin. "We waited for nearly two hours. Where were you?"
"Detention."
"I told you," Remus Lupin said, reaching out for the bag of marshmallows that sat besides James, who reluctantly handed it over. "Methinks that I may, in the near future, bequeath one of these fine sweets into your keeping, should it suit me."
"Wait, wait, /wait/" Sirius snapped impatiently, eyeing each boy in turn. "First, you start without me, even though there are still -" A quick glance at his wristwatch. "Seven minutes before the meeting is supposed to begin. And /then/ you bet a bag of marshmallows on me?"
Peter Pettigrew stared wide-eyed at Sirius. The temper tantrums were not infrequent, but they did prove to unnerve him occasionally. "We - we waited for two hours."
"And we were hungry," James pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Then roast Peter and eat /him/."
It came out as a growl, and proved to force a whimper from the boy. As Sirius began pacing once more across the length of the common room, Peter opened his mouth to apologize. "I'm sorry, Sirius, I -"
It was at that crucial moment that the pie Sirius had been concealing inside his robes decided to suddenly slip to the floor with a loud clatter. With a wince, Sirius glanced down at it and then, with the first thought that popped into his head, glanced up towards the ceiling. "Damn. What /are/ the girls doing up there?"
An eyebrow rose high on Remus' forehead. "Ahem. You were saying?"
"Okay, okay." Throwing his hands into the air, Sirius huffed out a breath. "So I made a quick stop in the kitchens before I came back up. I needed it. You spend that long in the same room with Snape, the only thing that looks good afterwards is pie." Collapsing into a chair, he fell silent.
"In the mood to hurt someone?" Peter asked, edging slightly behind Remus and James for protection.
Sirius nodded, then leapt from the chair. "Let's kill Snape."
"Kill?"
James' brows furrowed together, and his friend sighed. "Alright, so... not /kill/. Just... hurt severely?"
"You'd probably get another detention if you killed him," Peter chirped, stuffing two fat marshmallows into his mouth simultaneously.
"Two points for stating the obvious," he said dryly before glancing in the boy's direction in time to see two more of his precious marshmallows being stuffed into Peter's mouth. "I thought I told you to leave the damn marshmallows alone! If you eat anymore the house elves will be serving roast rat for dinner tomorrow."
"I bet you taste like chicken," James grinned.
Peter looked disgusted and horrified at the same time as he wrapped his arms around his plump body. "That's just nasty."
His irritation once more returning full blast, Sirius pounced up onto the chair, standing on the cushion and scowling darkly at his comrades. "You're straying, dammit! The topic is /not/ whether or not Peter tastes like chicken, it's how to kill Snape!"
"Once again, the detention factor," Remus added.
"Completely ignoring Wolf Boy, I say we poison the Slytherin water supply!"
With a small sigh, Peter shook his head. "You'd succeed in killing more than just Snape by doing that. Why don't we -"
"/No/ Peter," Sirius said firmly, shaking his head.
After a moment of thinking, Remus began, "We could transfigure all of his quills into tarantulas and -"
"He'd just eat them." Sirius scratched his head in exasperation.
"We could enchant a pair of shoes to follow him around all day and kick him in the arse," James suggested, eating a marshmallow.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "No. Snape would enjoy that." As the others sat blinking and visibly disturbed, he pondered for a moment before a mischievous grin split his face. "I've got it! When our dear, /dear/ friend hands in his Transfiguration assignment, it won't be called 'The Transfiguration of a Dung Beetle,' but will instead be titled 'The Tramsolation of the Brave Little Kittine.'"
A heavy weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders, and for a moment Sirius reveled in his idea. Then, getting to his feet, he smiled. "I've got to go get working on the kitten essay so I can switch it around. Pass me the marshmallows?"
At this, all eyes drifted to the empty plastic bag in front of Peter, and Sirius' eyes grew dark for a second time that night.
~~~~~
"…After I finished ranting about the marshmallows we began writing the essay for Transfiguration. We spent half the night writing it and had to send Peter out for more marshmallows, come to think of it he never came back. It was well worth it because to our great delight Snape was forced to read the essay out loud in front of the entire class the next day. He knew instantly who had managed to humiliate him- probably because we congratulated him so ardently. He immediately began to carry out a great revenge plot that I'm ashamed to say overshadowed ours."
At this Buckbeak leaned forward, apparently eager to hear all about Severus' revenge on the Marauder's. Sirius scowled at his sudden enthusiastic interest in the subject. If he didn't know better he would say that this pathetic and overgrown chicken was actually cheering for Snape. "Whose bloody side are you on anyway?"
The hippogriff didn't answer and Sirius decided that it was pretty damn convenient that Buckbeak couldn't vocalize his thoughts to the question.
It was spring and the moon was high in the sky with all the stars around it beginning to shine with life. Years ago he would have been out gallivanting around instead he was sitting in a cave talking to a bird. Sometimes fate dealt cruel hands and sometimes… fate just liked to point at you and laugh.
"Anyway that was the start of our full blown war. It became a violent sparring match and every hit and miss was crucial because our pride was on the line...."
Chapter One: Toasting Marshmallows
Sirius Black paced the length of the small cave enclosed in the Scottish mountainside that had become his most recent hideaway. It had been to long since he'd last spoken to a person face to face. There had been a time in his life when talking, laughing, and just being with people had been more natural than breathing. That part of his life had passed long ago. Still every now and then he caught himself simply yearning for the sounds of people.
He found that if he pushed his mind to its limits he could remember a time that had been entirely made of laughter. Now in the solitude of the night it became easier to recall everything. There had been thousands of trips under a silvery cloak and meetings in the middle of the night filled with combinations of real plotting and lots of wishful thinking. Then there was the entire year they'd spent tormenting the Slytherins. Part of every year was spent tormenting the Slytherins, but that year had been different. It had been their major goal. The Gryffindor and Slytherin feud had existed long before them, but he liked to think that the Marauders had added something interesting to it.
"We were quite a clever team," he mumbled to himself, stroking his three-day beard as he gazed out the opening to the cave at the star filled sky. His voice echoed into the distance and to him his voice sounded flat from lack of use.
Buckbeak cocked his head and squawked as if in respond to the statement. Sirius broke his pace and shot him a look. To him the squawk had sounded a little bit like a snort of disbelief.
"We were," he insisted giving the bird a dark scowl as if he had dared to disagree with him. "When we set our minds to something we accomplished it."
Buckbeak simply continued to stare at him as if waiting for him to continue. He scratched the stone floor of the cave with one of his talons impatiently when Sirius didn't speak again. Maybe he wasn't the only one that had been craving conversation.
"We pulled off the sort of pranks that legends are made of and I'll be damned if Snape doesn't have nightmares to this day about them," Sirius stated gruffly as he raked his hands through his dark hair. It struck him that he was talking to an overgrown bird and he wondered if those last strands of treasured sanity were slipping away from him. He'd survived Azkaban, escaped with his mind, only to lose it to now. Perhaps he should stop talking, but he wanted the noise so what the hell- he'd live dangerously.
"I can see now that there's no real beginning, but we did most of our plotting late at night…
~~~~~
"Where is he?"
"Bet you he got another detention."
"No - he's had one every day this week. Even he can't be that stupid."
"Bet you that bag of marshmallows."
"Alright."
As the three boys sat in a solitary semi-circle around the fire, pokers decked out with marshmallows stuck right into the blazing depths of the flickering flames, the portrait door to Gryffindor Tower swung noisily open on squeaky hinges before banging angrily shut once more. A fourth boy - and the accomplice upon whom the others impatiently waited - stormed across the common room in long strides, raking a hand through wild black hair.
"Damned if I don't break every bone in his slimy body this year," he muttered. "That flaming son of a bitch. Finally pushed his luck too far. This time he won't -" Pausing in mid-rant, the boy glanced over at the others, taking a few steps backward to glare accusingly at them. "You're roasting the damned marshmallows. Without me."
James Potter glanced casually over to his friend, attempting to conceal a grin. "We waited for nearly two hours. Where were you?"
"Detention."
"I told you," Remus Lupin said, reaching out for the bag of marshmallows that sat besides James, who reluctantly handed it over. "Methinks that I may, in the near future, bequeath one of these fine sweets into your keeping, should it suit me."
"Wait, wait, /wait/" Sirius snapped impatiently, eyeing each boy in turn. "First, you start without me, even though there are still -" A quick glance at his wristwatch. "Seven minutes before the meeting is supposed to begin. And /then/ you bet a bag of marshmallows on me?"
Peter Pettigrew stared wide-eyed at Sirius. The temper tantrums were not infrequent, but they did prove to unnerve him occasionally. "We - we waited for two hours."
"And we were hungry," James pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Then roast Peter and eat /him/."
It came out as a growl, and proved to force a whimper from the boy. As Sirius began pacing once more across the length of the common room, Peter opened his mouth to apologize. "I'm sorry, Sirius, I -"
It was at that crucial moment that the pie Sirius had been concealing inside his robes decided to suddenly slip to the floor with a loud clatter. With a wince, Sirius glanced down at it and then, with the first thought that popped into his head, glanced up towards the ceiling. "Damn. What /are/ the girls doing up there?"
An eyebrow rose high on Remus' forehead. "Ahem. You were saying?"
"Okay, okay." Throwing his hands into the air, Sirius huffed out a breath. "So I made a quick stop in the kitchens before I came back up. I needed it. You spend that long in the same room with Snape, the only thing that looks good afterwards is pie." Collapsing into a chair, he fell silent.
"In the mood to hurt someone?" Peter asked, edging slightly behind Remus and James for protection.
Sirius nodded, then leapt from the chair. "Let's kill Snape."
"Kill?"
James' brows furrowed together, and his friend sighed. "Alright, so... not /kill/. Just... hurt severely?"
"You'd probably get another detention if you killed him," Peter chirped, stuffing two fat marshmallows into his mouth simultaneously.
"Two points for stating the obvious," he said dryly before glancing in the boy's direction in time to see two more of his precious marshmallows being stuffed into Peter's mouth. "I thought I told you to leave the damn marshmallows alone! If you eat anymore the house elves will be serving roast rat for dinner tomorrow."
"I bet you taste like chicken," James grinned.
Peter looked disgusted and horrified at the same time as he wrapped his arms around his plump body. "That's just nasty."
His irritation once more returning full blast, Sirius pounced up onto the chair, standing on the cushion and scowling darkly at his comrades. "You're straying, dammit! The topic is /not/ whether or not Peter tastes like chicken, it's how to kill Snape!"
"Once again, the detention factor," Remus added.
"Completely ignoring Wolf Boy, I say we poison the Slytherin water supply!"
With a small sigh, Peter shook his head. "You'd succeed in killing more than just Snape by doing that. Why don't we -"
"/No/ Peter," Sirius said firmly, shaking his head.
After a moment of thinking, Remus began, "We could transfigure all of his quills into tarantulas and -"
"He'd just eat them." Sirius scratched his head in exasperation.
"We could enchant a pair of shoes to follow him around all day and kick him in the arse," James suggested, eating a marshmallow.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "No. Snape would enjoy that." As the others sat blinking and visibly disturbed, he pondered for a moment before a mischievous grin split his face. "I've got it! When our dear, /dear/ friend hands in his Transfiguration assignment, it won't be called 'The Transfiguration of a Dung Beetle,' but will instead be titled 'The Tramsolation of the Brave Little Kittine.'"
A heavy weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders, and for a moment Sirius reveled in his idea. Then, getting to his feet, he smiled. "I've got to go get working on the kitten essay so I can switch it around. Pass me the marshmallows?"
At this, all eyes drifted to the empty plastic bag in front of Peter, and Sirius' eyes grew dark for a second time that night.
~~~~~
"…After I finished ranting about the marshmallows we began writing the essay for Transfiguration. We spent half the night writing it and had to send Peter out for more marshmallows, come to think of it he never came back. It was well worth it because to our great delight Snape was forced to read the essay out loud in front of the entire class the next day. He knew instantly who had managed to humiliate him- probably because we congratulated him so ardently. He immediately began to carry out a great revenge plot that I'm ashamed to say overshadowed ours."
At this Buckbeak leaned forward, apparently eager to hear all about Severus' revenge on the Marauder's. Sirius scowled at his sudden enthusiastic interest in the subject. If he didn't know better he would say that this pathetic and overgrown chicken was actually cheering for Snape. "Whose bloody side are you on anyway?"
The hippogriff didn't answer and Sirius decided that it was pretty damn convenient that Buckbeak couldn't vocalize his thoughts to the question.
It was spring and the moon was high in the sky with all the stars around it beginning to shine with life. Years ago he would have been out gallivanting around instead he was sitting in a cave talking to a bird. Sometimes fate dealt cruel hands and sometimes… fate just liked to point at you and laugh.
"Anyway that was the start of our full blown war. It became a violent sparring match and every hit and miss was crucial because our pride was on the line...."