OWL EXAMS 1976
I hated exams. OWLs were stressful and really nasty. I dread to think what NEWTs would be like. When I wasn't in exams, practical or written, I was studying. Going over old material, which could possibly come up or finishing adding the extra information into essays from the few lessons we were still having to attend. I even taken to going over the stuff that had appeared in the exams. I'd written out what I had missed or gotten mildly wrong. It was incredibly frustrating. There wasn't anything I didn't not know, I just felt some of the answers were somewhat vague. And that I could have done better, or made things clearer.
Over those few weeks, I barely saw Sirius.
When I couldn't focus inside I headed out to the stone circle with a backpack full of textbooks. For all my OWL classes, the exams had been taken but I still had NEWT level classes to contend with and I didn't need to sit them until two years' time. Sitting upon the centre stone I spread the DADA, Charms and Transfig books around me. From the backpack, I also remove a muggle notebook. It was easier to make notes in than rolls of parchment. Also in my bag was parchments of old NEWT essays which had been marked by each professor with feedback. I only actually knew about half them in enough detail but I had time to learn the rest. Using these I adapt my notes. Around me there is silence. No rustling leaves. No distant shouts from students. Just peace and quiet. It's as if the circle understood that I needed to study and blocked everything else out allowing me to concentrate. As the sun makes its way across the sky I bask in the warm summer heat.
Taking the long way back to the castle I catch up with various student groups. The majority are polite and chat away. In the distance by the lake I spy four familiar figures in a huddled under a beech tree. A dark haired Slytherin not too far from them, straying close but still keeping a distance. Eventually he gets too close. Potter disarms him using expelliarmus, levitating him in the air ready to show the gathering crowd his underpants. Taunting the Dark Arts follower. Embarrassing him. Showing him up. As only stupid teenage boys would find this funny, quite a few of the crowd end up laughing. Lily tries to step in and help him, her childhood friend. Standing between James and the upside-down Severus. "I don't want your help, you filthy little mudblood." Of all the insults, to all the people, this hurts Lily the most. Her shoulders sag, her green eyes spark fire. He tries apologising but I think that line in the sand had been drawn. James lets him down, his eyes follow Lilys' back as she storms off. Her red hair flames behind her with the billowing of her cloak. Severus attempts to follow her but a few of the lingering Slytherins step in to block him from her and from the four Marauders. As a prefect, I should have stepped in but I knew this needed to happen. Catching Siri's eye, I shake my head. Do not follow. I'm so mad at them right now for instigating it. Maybe this will learn them to stop messing with people. They've just help abolish a long-standing friendship. Okay I didn't totally approve of it but they'd survived this far. Until now. All because it's fun to mess with Snivvelus.
I catch Lily in the main hallway waiting for the stairs to change. "Red?" I approach her with caution.
"Grey." She sighs softly as I stand next to her.
"You okay?"
"Fine." Yeah, right. I give her a look knowing full well that she wasn't. Her eyes were watery and puffy. She was ready to cry.
The stairs seemed to be in our benefit today as we ascend to one of the towers. Silently she keeps pace, not questioning things. I often found that being up high in one of the towers gave me perspective on things. One of these circular rooms had comfortable chairs in with three sixty degree views of the grounds. Sitting in a square armchair she takes the one opposite. "I hate him Sylvie." I wasn't sure which him she was referring to at current point so I stay silent. "'Tuney was right. From the first day that she met him she wasn't keen on him. And now he's evil and twisted. He's no longer the boy I once knew. He's no longer my best friend. He told me everything about Hogwarts. He spent time spying on us. I floated off a swing when he finally confronted me, explaining about magic. He was from the scummy side of town. Maybe I should write to her?" I think she's talking to herself rather than to me, as if me just being there is reassuring. "What do you think Sylvie?" She runs her fingers through her hair, it cascades back to her usual straightness.
"Lily, honestly?" she nods. "Severus and you have been drifting apart for a while now. Since first year, though you both tried to make it work. You're fighting different sides. As for Tuney, your sister, there's no harm in making amends. I wish I could talk to Flora too. I think that," I hesitate to finish this, "that you may need to have words with James and Sirius. If not them then Remus and Pete may be a little more approachable. They may learn from this but I wouldn't go holding your breath. You have to talk to them. James will listen to you. He likes you, and I know you're starting to like him. You don't hate him anymore, maybe you didn't really ever hate him. Maybe it was just a front because he took an instant dislike to Severus." She goes to interject. "And I won't play Siri either. Actually, you've seen more of him than I have lately. "
By the end of the two weeks the entire of fifth and seventh years were truly zombies with so much studying and examination. On Friday lunch time, it was declared that they were all complete. A large whoop and multiple cheers echo around the hall. The next day we were all leaving again. Summer was here. We were free to go home.
Azure blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds float lazily by. The bright yellow sun warms my room, filling it with light. Minute dust particles cast tiny rainbows through the air. Beside me a very naked Siri is dozing, arm propped behind his head, the other around me, his thumb stroking my bare shoulder. It didn't look too comfortable. His hair perfectly tousled as always. Drifting summer mornings like this were a favourite of mine. Beneath the covers which stopped at my waist, our bodies intertwine. Muscular and taut with soft and fleshy. Natural. I was in my favourite place with my most favourite person. Outside the meadow hummed with life. The array of colours, smells and textures attracting stripy bumble bees, decorative fluttering butterflies, metallic tubular damselflies that hover near the stream, just trickling in the distance out of sight beyond the field. It was a land that I knew well. My inner badger was all too happy to roll around basking in the evening sun when it appeared. For every circle of his thumb upon my shoulder I mirror it with my finger upon his chest. Content. Slowly my fingers dance across his ribs, tapping lightly with the rhythm of his heart, ghosting his toned stomach. His breath catches as I play with the covers wrapped across his hips. He definitely isn't asleep. "Sylvie…" his voice is strained. A warning. I knew where it would lead to. We both did. He's wide awake now. His grey eyes dark. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder I dance my fingers further south, feather light touches upon his hip. Teasing. He's too strong and agile. I'm too willing as he flips me softly onto my back. I tangle my hands in his hair as we kiss. Long. Slow. Deep. His hands propped each side of my head. Strong thighs over gentle hips. The covers lie in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the bed. Effortlessly our bodies move. Completely in sync.
"Sylvie. Pad… Holy mother of Merlin!" We're interrupted by a shout from my door. Potter.
"Fuck Prongs." Siri attempts to cover me up in haste as we're rudely interrupted. Wrapping the duvet around me the best I could, I stay silent, my face heating up. Beside me Siri is sitting rather uncomfortably, although not making an attempt to cover up. I suppose it's nothing Potter hasn't seen before, sharing a dorm and all that.
James looks anywhere but at us. "I'll eh," he ruffles a hand through his hair. "I'll give you a bit of time to, eh, sort yourself out. I might just take Iris up on her cup of tea after all." And with that he dashes back up the tunnel, the door clicking softly behind him.
"Well that was awkward." I chuckle, all sense of romance had gone out the window.
"It could have been worse, Sylv. You could have been on top." He smirks the trademark, raising a brow. "Really would have given him a show."
I shove him lightly with my shoulder, mortified by the thought. Sighing I go about finding the clothes dotted around the room. They'd been removed in haste the afternoon before.
Around quarter of an hour later we join Potter and my mum in the kitchen for tea. Instead of the usual kettle boiling there was a large pitcher of cool lemonade on the table alongside Victoria sponge. Both Potter and Iris are chuckling over something as we enter the kitchen. Sitting down on one of the wooden chairs opposite I can't look at Potter. The amusement on his face is clear. Smug ass. My mother seems oblivious to it all. Or she's figured it out and accepted things. Or I'll get a lecture about being safe later.
Finishing the lemonade, the three of us head into the garden leaving mum to tidy up. She, as per usual, shoos us away when we offer to help. Sitting upon the grass, just in the shade of the house, it's incredibly awkward. Do we discuss what happened? Do I leave them to discuss it? Do Siri and I need to discuss it? Well no, we covered that although it may be case of being extra cautious now. Do I need to approach James? I'm not sure on the etiquette of being interrupted by your boyfriends' best mate while going at it. Nor is it something I would ever want to.
"Prongs?" Siri squeezes my hand gently.
"Pads? Miss Grey?" he looks at us out the corner of his eye. Pushing his glasses up his nose. How come I get formal naming?
"Look, Prongs." Siri runs a hand across the back of his neck. Nervous habit.
James interrupts. "Guys, it's fine. I shouldn't have barged in. I should have owled and let you know that I was coming. Or at least you both were." He snorts a little at his bad pun. "Just next time try using a silencing charm, or a locking charm on the door. You know, just in case. I don't want you guys having puppies just yet." Honestly, I didn't want puppies yet though maybe we were a bit careless and forgetful at times. Time to up the precautions on top of the potion I took for three weeks and then off a week, and take responsibility though I did have a habit of forgetting it especially while busy.
"James, please do not breathe a word of this at school. I know everyone knows, I mean it's obvious were together, together. But we don't need it actually being confirmed." I fidget with blades of grass by my leg.
"One condition, Sylvie? You help me with Evans." For once all the bravado has gone, he genuinely wants to get on with her better. Siri simply sighs as I agree.
James was all too happy to sleep in the guest room. He still chose the one on the first floor where all four boys had ended up in back at Easter. Mum had left the Gryffindor posters up, or they were stuck there. In the morning, I found him curled up I the sofa in my room with a blanket from one of the beds around him. His black hair was mussed to something akin to a mop, the ends all in knots. His circular glasses were thrown onto the floor beside the hand that was draped over the edge, fingers catching the air. The heaped fabric curls from the waist down, tucking and folding around him. The brown current jersey of Puddlemere United crumpled as her moved in his sleep. I hoped they would change the colour at some point to something more wearable, maybe a navy blue. A sleeping James was soft, relaxed and looked a lot younger than his sixteen years. Though I wouldn't go telling him that. He'd glare at you over his spectacles, quite possibly giving old Minnie a run for her money. Or he'd prank you as long as he possibly could. Just small niggly things to irritate you all day; blotting quills, constantly ravelling scrolls, text books without text. I've seen it happen. I wouldn't want to be at the receiving end of it.
A short time later we're sat in the kitchen. A flurry of wings flies through the back door. Toffee lands in front of me while the other two known owls from school in front of Siri and James. OWL results. I forgot they were coming. Going by the boys' expressions, so did they. A formal envelope; cream with a slight rough texture. A red Hogwarts wax seal. My name and address formally written. Primarily Exceeds Expectations and Outstandings in most subjects the only one I had dropped down in was Ancient Runes, receiving an Acceptable. The only ones I truly cared about was Transfig, DADA and Charms. My NEWT levels were progressing nicely anyways; I would further Potions, Herbology and Muggle Studies to cover the required five NEWTs to become an Auror. Slowly and properly I would get there. Practice makes perfect. Come the exams I would be fine.
James looks composed, a small smile dancing on the corners. Siri looks somewhat complexed, puzzlement upon his face. Something was up. He hands me the letter. All was fine as far as I could see. Similar grades to my own. The speech from the stone circle rang true. Maybe that was the issue? As far as I was aware he didn't even study. He had a natural talent for just absorbing information as it was taught. Like a sponge. Even James had to put some effort into things, except Quidditch in which he excelled. It came naturally to him. I hated flying, even from day one, that first year of compulsory flying had been enough. Siri was competent as was Pete who could keep up with James but preferred playing for fun. Remus never had a head for heights and was quite happy with two feet on the ground.
"I don't see any issues Siri."
"I got an E in Muggle Studies." He points with a jab at the top grade.
"Yeah, Exceeds Expectations. And no wonder."
He snorts lightly at this. For the past year he had been building a motorbike for muggle studies. Starting with the frame he had built everything from scratch. He and Remus had been raiding scrap yards for bits. We would often find him out at Hagrid's hut, hair up in a bun, long fingers probing and oiling various things. Black smudges across his high cheekbones. He preferred using his hands than a wand doing this. The smaller nuts and bolts becoming fluid in his grasp. These skilled fingers were good for other things too but that was a different story. He'd completed the bike just as we'd finished school before summer, somehow managing to get it running as well as doing exams.
The bike was amazing. The way the engine purrs under you, the chink of the gears as they change and the shift of power that follows. The raw energy and freedom. The way Siri grins and laughs at the pure joy of it. The wind as it flows through his hair. The fact that he built it on his own, with his bare hands and time. It was part of him. My heart swelled with joy when he showed me it, twisting and turning on a courtyard. Then somehow having magicked it so it could fly. Sitting backwards upon the seat, half straddling the bike and his lap, fingers tightly grasping the front of his jacket. His fingers knotted in my hair in the back of my head. Our mouths hungry and tongues dancing. It was also during all this that he'd taken to stress smoking. The puffs of smoke shaping as he exhaled. Now it was a habit that stuck fast. The amorentia test of fourth year had been true; cigarettes, motor oil and the musk that was only him. A heady happy combination.
The leather jacket. The motorbike. The smoking. The Doc Martens. The perfectly tousled hair. The smirk. The bad boy. The one and only Sirius Orion Black the Third. Mine.