The holidays were drawing to a close and Sirius found himself feeling unusually miserable as the final Sunday drew nearer and nearer. Sirius was used to looking forward to going back to school. Despite the boring-as-hell lessons and the even drearier detentions, he found comfort in the thought of living with Peter and James again. With them, there were no screaming matches, only well-meaning arguments. His mother never threw terrific tantrums; Peter sulked half heartedly. When Sirius was in his dormitory, hardly a silent hour went by, heavy with awkwardness and pent up emotions. With those two, Sirius was happy.
Sirius was also happy with Remus. They had hung out regularly, sometimes with James and sometimes without. Sirius found himself both horrified and delighted at how much he enjoyed his new friend's company. Delighted because Remus seemed a good sort of friend to have; horrified because of the clenching in his stomach every time Remus threw him a sly, secret smile.
On the final Saturday of the holidays, Remus had been offered the chance to play the piano with the county orchestra in a concert hall in Cardiff. In order to make the most of the occasion, James and Sirius were travelling with him to spend the day in Cardiff and watch his concert in the evening. The three were deemed old enough to travel by train without supervision, much to Remus' scepticism.
Sirius hadn't been to the train station since his first evening in Llanfairpwll, but he found it wasn't in a much better state during the day than at night. There were only two other people on the platform; a man who looked old enough to have fought in the Great War himself, and his daughter who looked scary enough as she yelled down her phone in a thick Welsh accent. Sirius tried not to look intimidated.
"What are you playing tonight?" he asked Remus, looking away from the couple.
"The Moonlight Sonata," Remus told him. "It's because of you lot I'm not practising right now."
"It's not a big deal," James sighed. "You're only playing on the little stage."
"Fuck off, James," Remus retorted.
"Children, children!" Sirius interrupted before either got genuinely cross. "Now is not the time or the place to fight. Allow yourself a moment to enjoy the shitness that is this train station – "
"Just shut up, Padfoot!" Remus snapped. Sirius looked taken aback, then a little disappointed.
"Sorry, Remus."
Fortunately, the train trundled along the tracks and broke the awkwardness that followed. All three climbed aboard and found seats opposite each other silently. After exchanging a glance with James, Sirius asked, "Are you OK?"
"Look, I'm-" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just nervous, alright? I don't wanna think about the concert right now," he mumbled.
James perked up. "OK. Well, we still need to find you a nickname," he said.
"And why," Remus asked as patiently as he could manage. "Would I need a nickname?"
"Because you're part of the Marauders!" James explained.
Remus sighed, although Sirius thought he could see some of the tension leave his shoulders. "The what?"
"The Marauders," Sirius chimed in. "Our gang at school."
"You mean the gang that's made up of you two and some kid called Peter?"
"Exactly!"
"I don't know if you noticed, but I don't actually go to your school."
"Don't worry about it," James reassured him. "Pete would love to have you as a part of our gang, wouldn't he, Sirius?"
Sirius nodded solemnly. "Without a doubt."
The train pulled out of the station and Sirius watched as the train picked up speed. The countryside whizzed by in a mess of farms, churches and hills. Sirius thought he should spend more time appreciating the beauty of Wales, even if the towns and villages were run down and grim.
"Oi, Padfoot," James said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you with us?"
"We can't think of a nickname," Remus told him with another world weary sigh. "Not since I told him both Roman and Emperor are out of the question."
"But Caligula, you're the founder of Rome."
Remus threw an empty coffee cup at his head.
"I actually really fancy a coffee," Sirius said, standing up. "Does anyone else want to come up to the food carriage with me?"
His request was met with raised eyebrows.
"I suppose not, then."
Cardiff would have been nicer had the sun been shining, Sirius thought. As it was, it seemed to be rather drab and grey and just like every other city Sirius had visited. Another castle, another pleasant shopping centre, a few independent shops and cafés, and not much else.
He thought about this while the three of them took shelter in Starbucks from the drizzling rain. He nibbled on a cookie and examined the coffee shop, which was a mess of peeling paint and greasy floors.
"Do you guys want anything while we're in Cardiff?" Remus asked. "I have to go to rehearse in a minute, but I can give you directions somewhere if you need it."
"Sirius needs some new clothes," James said, a prominent smudge of chocolate on his cheek. "He's been wearing the same pair of jeans and four T-Shirts since he arrived."
"I don't have any money, mate." It felt odd for Sirius to say this. He was not accustomed to being penniless. He wasn't sure if the churning in his stomach was elation at having escaped his family or the full force of his situation, once again, hitting him like a tonne of bricks.
"My parents will pay."
"Prongs, your parents are already giving me a place to stay and food and all that. I can't let them-"
"Padfoot, I don't think you've quite understood how much money my parents have. They're loaded. They literally have nothing else to spend it on. They told me to buy you clothes. They want to do it," James said firmly. It failed to make Sirius feel much better.
"Either way," Remus said, brushing crumbs off his T-Shirts as he stood up. "I should get going. You remember how to get to the hall, right James?"
James nodded. When Remus had left, he turned a critical eye to Sirius. "You probably won't be allowed in wearing those smelly clothes anyway. Let's get you some new outfits."
Despite all his vocal protestations, Sirius was grateful for the no nonsense way James bought him clothes. They trailed from shop to shop, James picking clothes out for him while Sirius gazed longingly at the sales rack.
"Please don't spend even more money on me, Prongs. I really don't need it."
"Look," James said, throwing a Jack Wills shirt onto a Jack Wills chair for emphasis. Sirius winced. "My parents have known you properly for – what, a week? A week and a half? But you're living with them now, and they're not going to let you go around in disgusting clothes or go without a phone."
"A phone?" Sirius looked startled. "James, come on-"
"No, shut up, Sirius, I'm on a roll. Stop making a fuss because you feel indebted to them or whatever. They literally have so much money, and they're actually gonna spend it on fuck all otherwise. Take the clothes, and shut the hell up. They care about you."
Sirius huffed but gave in. He would deny the warm feeling spreading from his chest to his toes had he been asked about it, but as it was, no one asked, so he basked in the pleasure of being cared about. When James threw a jumper at him, he accepted it without complaint. When James bought the jumper, he didn't make a sound. When James dragged him into a phone shop he followed, albeit with more uncertainty. He managed to redirect James to the second hand phones, although James still bought the most expensive one, almost as if he was making a point. Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything James reminded him, "Millions of pounds. My parents have millions of pounds." Sirius closed his mouth.
That evening, when the pair arrived at the concert hall, Sirius was grateful for the less grotty clothes. It was a smart venue, everything modern and shiny. All sorts of people dressed in nice clothes milled around.
After having collected their tickets, James tried unsuccessfully to navigate them to their seats. In the end, they had to ask several different employees where they were meant to be, much to Sirius' amusement.
The hall itself was enormous. Sirius was sure thousands of people could have been seated. As it was, there were no more than a few hundred people waiting for the concert to begin, murmuring quietly. The orchestra were setting up and Sirius craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Remus. He couldn't see him.
"Where's Remus?" Sirius whispered.
"He's not on immediately," James whispered back.
"When will he be on?"
"I dunno. Shut up."
Sirius quickly found he didn't like classical music. It was boring; all sugary violins and loud timpani. Instead of paying attention, Sirius studied the programme in the dim light. It seemed the main attraction was a Beethoven concerto. After what seemed like endless pieces and a short interval, Remus came on stage wearing a smart suit and a pained expression. It was clear to see he was nervous. But as soon as he sat at the grand piano, nodding subtly at the conductor, Sirius could visibly see him relax. His shoulders lost the tension as he rested his fingers on the keys and closed his eyes. Within the first few notes, Sirius had fallen in love with the music. It was soothing and melancholy and he could just catch a glimpse of Remus' hands dancing up and down the piano.
Sirius glanced down at the programme once more. The Moonlight Sonata.
"Alright, Moony?"
Remus met his two friends just outside the entrance. Night was falling quickly and he noticed Sirius' new clothes; a pair of intentionally ripped jeans and a well fitting leather jacket. Rather than comment on it, Remus said, "Moony? What the hell?"
"The Moonlight Sonata. Moonlight. Moony. See? A perfect nickname."
"I'd like to apologise for Sirius' nicknaming skills," James said with a grin.
"Don't be rude," Sirius complained, hitting his arm.
"Before either of you kill the other or something ridiculous like that, shall we get going?"
Sirius felt sad sitting on the train back. He could no longer enjoy the views, as night had now engulfed the train, and he realised he wasn't going to see Remus again until he came back for the half term week.
James had fallen asleep and was snoring gently, his nostrils on full view for those around him. Remus was watching James with disgust.
"I won't see you until half term now," Sirius said across the aisle.
Remus tore his gaze away from his sleeping friend. "You what?"
"I won't see you until half term," Sirius repeated. "We're leaving tomorrow morning."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. We'll have to swap phone numbers."
Sirius nodded and Remus settled back into his seat. "Padfoot? Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Why did you run away?"
Sirius froze. He could feel his stomach seize up and he waited several moments. He wasn't sure what he was expecting - perhaps for Remus to get the hint and to change the topic of conversation, but he didn't. He sat patiently, waiting to see how Sirius would react.
Eventually, Sirius murmured, "I got in a fight with them." Remus remained quiet. "With my parents. Well, my mum. It started out fine. It was just my school report. It hasn't been that good recently, and they started yelling at me. Expensive school and tutoring and stuff. But – I mean I generally just take it lying down. But this time I didn't really." Sirius paused, but Remus still had nothing to say. "There was a lot of screaming. For a long time. And eventually my dad just lost it and – and he hit me. And I had to leave. Like, he hadn't hit me for years. I was frightened so I just – I just left."
He realised he was beginning to well up and took moment to collect himself, wiping his eyes and breathing in deeply. He could decipher no emotion in Remus other than sympathy and perhaps concern. "So. I got on the train and… And yeah."
"I'm sorry," Remus murmured. Sirius huffed a sad sort of laugh.
"Yeah. Me too."
A/N: I actually quite like this chapter. I hope you did too. Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy and I love everyone who leaves one.
