A/N - Ok, so this chapter isn't the best thing I've ever written, but it'll hopefully get better as I go along.
Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter
I
Consort – A small group of instruments of the same family playing together, e.g. a consort of strings. The term usually applies to music from the Renaissance period.
So, here he was again, Sirius thought glumly, looking up at a pristine white sign which read "St Mungo's Music Academy" above the door of a converted castle, now music school. Sirius had been attending the Academy since the age of thirteen, after a particular incident had left his parents so enraged they had dumped him there with instructions to "Study how to be a proper musician, shape the fuck up, and not show his face until he learned how to comport himself in a manner befitting the heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black". Of course Sirius had gone home for summer holidays, but both he and his family had been content to ignore each other as much as possible. Though the Academy taught promising musical talents, it was also a sort of correctional facility. "Troubled" children who showed musical aptitude were often transferred there for music therapy, ensuring a strict disciplinary system which was why Sirius' parents had chosen it for him. Sirius' family were famous in the musical world. All great musicians, the Black family could be traced back to the actual invention of the violin, cello, viola and double bass. Sirius' childhood had consisted of intense musical training, both theoretical and practical. He and his brother, Regulus, had been heralded as the new Mozarts, and had little time for playing or just being a child. Because of this Sirius had decided to rebel (like his favourite film characters or the lead guitarists in his favourite bands) and spent the majority of his early teens piercing his ears, buying a leather jacket and wearing a lot of black.
However this had only gotten him more time shut up in a practise room and a place at the Academy. As Sirius wandered the familiar halls, making his way up to the dormitory room he shared with three other boys, he thought back to his brother still at home under his parent's tyrannical rule. Sirius had always been the rebellious one. Angry at his parents' rigid training, their obsession with the family name and their insistence that he become a classical musician, Sirius went out of his way to cause them trouble. After years of pranks, insults and sabotages on prised family instruments, Sirius had found the prefect medium to enact his revenge - rock music.
It was lunchtime before Sirius Black met up with his roommates, James and Peter. As they made their way down to the dining hall Sirius reacquainted himself with the building. Though he complained about being sent there, Sirius actually didn't mind the old castle. It wasn't particularly big, for a castle, but it had the requisite number of towers and turrets, the great hall and even a creepy dungeon. After going there for four years Sirius and his friends knew every inch of the school, and he prided himself on his understanding of, not only the place, but the people who lived there.
It was funny, Sirius thought as he walked past groups of kids milling around the dining hall, how much the instrument you played affected your friendships (being at a music school tended to affect your social life, as well as academic). Students usually gravitated towards people from their own section of the orchestra, or other instrumental group if they were not in the orchestra. You could almost determine a person's character from the section they played in. Sirius himself was a string player, his instrument being the cello. String players tended to be sociable, loud, and outgoing. His best friend, James, played the violin, the lead instrument to the strings as the strings were to the rest of the orchestra. Many people resented the string players for this, and even Sirius had to admit as a section they did have a slightly superior view of themselves. However this didn't make them any less popular amongst the majority of the students.
Sirius' other close friend, Peter Pettigrew, was a brass player who played the trombone, something James and Sirius habitually teased him about. Being teenage boys they had endless jokes about "blowing" and "tromboners", although Sirius had to take the occasional comment about him and the "bit of hard wood between his legs". Brass players were characteristically a bit odd, not particularly academic, and often liked to tag along with the more popular strings, woodwind and singers. Sirius glanced distastefully at a couple of boys trying to free the hand of a third who had got it stuck in his own trumpet.
He James and Peter continued on walking to the other side of the hall, passing on the way a group of woodwind players
"Bunch of airy-fairy know-it-alls." Sirius muttered to himself. He had recently had a less than favourable encounter with a flautist who he'd had his eye on. She definitely seemed interested, and it had been going well, until he got to her dorm room and she'd insisted on "cleansing his aura before they began their everlasting soul connection." He'd gotten out of there pretty quickly after that.
The three friends walked to their usual corner of the dining hall -the one furthest from the teachers- past the percussion section
"They hardly even count as musicians" James said aside to Sirius, who dismissed the comment as he thought about the amazing drummers in The Who, Queen, and Pink Floyd. He knew James was just pissed off because the majority of the percussionists were on the cricket team, and James, who also played, was regularly set against them.
As they reached their table James caught sight of a flash of red hair, followed by an accompanying musical laugh. He jumped back up from the seat he'd just taken with a gleeful call of "EVANS!" as he bounded over to a girl at a nearby table, now regarding him with a disdainful look. Shaking his head Sirius watched his friend with amusement as he was rejected for the third time that day and irritation at his departure, which left him with only Peter for company. Sirius eyed the girl, Lily Evans, with distaste. Not only was she totally not his type, she was also a singer. Sirius couldn't stand singers, they were all so self-involved. Though a detached group who mostly interacted with themselves, they were held in high esteem by most other students.
Sirius turned his gaze from his best friend's comical attempts at gaining Lily's attention and was surveying the rest of the hall when something caught his eye. A solitary figure sat hunched over a table nearby. Back turned away, Sirius could only make out the slim build and light brown hair of the boy, who looked rather misplaced amongst the other students. With the academy being a boarding school people usually made friends quickly; the prospect of being so completely alone drove even the most timid of people to find a place for themselves. This boy however was entirely secluded.
At first Sirius couldn't quite work out what made him seem different, apart from his obvious segregation from his fellow students. Then he noticed the scruffy state of the strange boy's robes (the academy was very old, and had kept its archaic uniform) and the battered look of his brown school bag. Intrigued, Sirius unconsciously lent over the table, hoping to get a look at the unidentified boy's face.
"What are you looking at Sirius?" Peter asked, hoping to be let in on whatever plan or secret his bigger friend was clearly pondering.
"Nothing" Sirius muttered, mentally checking himself.
Though not a vain person, Sirius was aware he possessed above average looks, intelligence, charm, and knew the effect he had on most girls, and even some boys. Due to this, over the past few years Sirius had developed a reputation as somewhat of a player. It wasn't something he was necessarily proud of, however it did give him a better social standing, and pissed off his uptight, old fashioned parents. On this basis it wouldn't be good to be seen taking an obvious interest in an outcast who seemed to be content on ignoring others as they were ignoring him. Especially as that outcast was a guy.
And here was the root of the problem.
Two years ago, in his fifth year at school, Sirius had made a discovery. Two years ago Sirius had realised he was getting slightly closer to one of his male friends than he had known he wanted to be. Two years ago Sirius had realised that he might not be as straight as he had always assumed. You see, two years ago Sirius had realised he liked both girls and boys. After a drunken kiss one night when James and Peter had been out of the dorm, both Sirius and his other roommate, Evan had realised something about themselves they hadn't known before. They had continued "experimenting" until Evan had panicked. He had gone too deep into something he didn't understand, and Evan had spread the rumour that Sirius was gay round school. Sirius' parents had stepped in to prevent the Black name from being further smirched by their embarrassment of a son. The Evan had suddenly transferred schools, and Sirius had been careful to build a reputation for himself as a womaniser (or as James called him, a man slut).
However this experience had taught him a few valuable lessons. The first was never to trust anyone except himself, and maybe James as long as whatever he had to trust him with didn't involve Evans. The second was that, whilst times were changing and people were becoming more accepting, liking boys and girls was not going win him any popularity contests. And Sirius was ashamed to admit he liked the popularity which came with his name and his talent.
No, it would not do to be caught staring at the new guy.