Chapter 161 The Future

Sirius didn't bother to look at the career pamphlets when they appeared on every surface in the common room. The advertisements on their covers didn't draw his eye for longer than it took to realize he didn't care.

He already knew what he wanted to do with his life.

Remus, however, disagreed.

"Sirius you can't support yourself on air. You're going to need a job."

"I'm already going to have a job. What do I need two for?"

"I'm pretty sure Dumbledore doesn't have the funds to pay his army," he hissed under his breath. Peter looked around like they were doing something bad and he didn't want to be seen. "You do realize your parents aren't going to give you any money when you finally move out, right?"

Sirius glared at him, bringing up his parents was a low blow. He'd thought Remus was above that. "I don't need them."

"Then what exactly are you planning on living on? I know you dress like a bum, but that doesn't mean you have to be one."

"Hey, my outfit is rad, back off." Sirius clutched his jacket tighter, suddenly self-conscious about his clothes.

"He'll be the most gorgeous hobo in the homeless shelter," James chuckled looking at a pamphlet, it had a quidditch player on the front, big surprise there.

"You got that right."

"This isn't a joke!" Remus' face was going red. Sirius couldn't remember ever seeing him do that before, not because he was angry anyway. "You guys don't know what it's like, being..." he hesitated, not liking the word, "poor. It's not fun."

They both looked at him, then at each other.

"Chill, Moony," James said with an awkward little smile, "we'll be fine. Unlike Padfoot, I am getting my parent's money. I'm not gonna let you lot starve."

"Not until after they're dead you're not. What are you going to do till then?"

"They're ancient, Moons, they could drop dead at any ti- Owch!" Sirius rubbed his head where one of the thicker pamphlets had hit him, glaring at James.

"Probably the same thing I'm doing now," James shrugged ignoring Sirius' glare. "Mum hardly lets me pay for anything as it is. I doubt that's going to change just because I graduated. And moving out isn't really an option either, honestly. They- er. Well, like Sirius said, they're getting up there. I should probably be nearby if y'know something..."

He couldn't finish and looked back down at his pamphlet while all his friends stared at him.

"Dumbledores' like two hundred years old, they're not that old."

"Dumbledore doesn't have a kid who's planning on making every dark wizard in England hate them," James replied not looking up but certainly not reading the words he was staring at.

Remus made a sort of choking noise, and Peter looked solemn as they thought of their own families. Sirius tried to feel something, but the closest he got was wondering how long it would be before one of his family tried to murder him.

Peter popped up not long after, talking about snacks and left the common room, as was his habit when things got depressing. He'd bring them all back some candy or the like.

Mood thoroughly ruined now, Sirius picked up a random pamphlet and pretended he to be interested in it, for Remus' sake, if nothing else.

He wasn't against working for a living. Jobs were fine… for normal people. Sirius wasn't a normal person, he would be a soldier, and soldiers didn't have time for jobs. He couldn't protect his friends while running a coffee shop or taking care of dragons.

And if he felt a little responsible because it was his family that was causing most of the deaths then all the more reason to fight.

He did try though. After Remus convinced him to look through the flyers he did try to find something he cared to do, but it was no use. The day of his consultation with McGonagall came and he hadn't found a single thing he wanted to do with his life. He couldn't see himself being anything but a soldier

McGonagall sided with Remus.

"What about your affinity for enchanting muggle technology?" She asked when he shrugged off her question of what he'd like to do after he graduated. He hadn't yet approached the subject of the war, she might not take it well.

"I never managed to convince the tape player to work," he admitted. He hadn't even thought about that little cassette player Remus had lent him in months. It wasn't that he gave up on it as pushed it aside for more important things. Now that he was thinking about it though he couldn't help but get ideas on how to get the little music player to play on school grounds.

Perhaps a basic enchanting spell combined with a sonorous charm...

"So you've given up?" She asked leaning closer looking over the rim of her spectacles at him. He had to actively stop himself from squirming in his seat at the look she gave him.

"No, I- just..." He rubbed his forearm, it was the only show of discomfort he allowed himself. "What's the point?"

She blinked at him, leaning back again, he felt no relief in it though. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know if you've noticed but there's kinda a war going on."

He should have left the snark out of his voice, but it was a bad habit of his that he didn't care to fix.

She closed her eyes and gave a slow sort of nod. "You want to fight," she concluded with a sigh.

He sat up straighter, now the conversation was getting somewhere. "I know Dumbledore's got some sort of an army. We overheard him talking about The Order." It wasn't exactly a lie, though McGonagall had been in on the conversation too. He thought she'd take it better if it wasn't her they'd been eavesdropping on.

She blinked at him, her spectacles falling on her nose a little bit more, he imagined that if she'd had a book in her hands she'd have dropped it.

She did that a lot.

"How on Earth..." She trailed off, he didn't respond as he'd already told her how he knew. Her voice grew stern. "You boys have a very bad habit of knowing more than you should."

"We're troublemakers, it comes with the territory," he shrugged. "I want to join. I want to fight the death eaters. Remus is..." Sirius looked at the door nervously, "Remus is a werewolf. If Voldemort gets in control he's one one of the first people to go. And I..." he hesitated again, "I need to protect my friends."

She watched him, her face gave nothing away. He didn't know if she was looking for sincerity or guilt or showboating. Whatever she was looking for the gaze ended with another exasperated sigh. She took off her spectacles and began to clean them. James always used his shirt, but she had a rag.

"And I'm sure we would be lucky to have you," she said and it was his turn to blink at her. He'd expected outright denial. He waited for the 'but' in that sentence before he allowed himself to celebrate. She didn't disappoint.

"However, that is a long time from now. Until then you will still need to support yourself, Mr. Black." She returned the spectacles to her face and looked at him again.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, wasn't preparing for the future the whole point of this talk? He wasn't in detention again, was he and he'd mixed up the times?

"When you graduate you will need to choose between retrieving further education or getting a career, regardless of your future intentions," she explained shuffling some paper around. "And don't rule out the idea that the war may well be over before you join, so it should be a career you are prepared to remain in."

Sirius' eyes rolled and his head fell back on the chair, heaving out a dramatic groan.

She pulled down her spectacles to give him an exasperated look. "Is that really necessary?"

"It helps me on the inside," he chuckled flashing her a grin.

"What exactly is the problem?" She pushed the spectacles back up, though they'd fall the moment she moved her head. James did the same thing.

"If you think I'm waiting until I'm thirty you're out of your mind."

"We do not recruit children," her lips thinned and her grip on her quill tightened. Sirius got the impression this was an old argument that she wasn't winning.

"I'll be seventeen by then," he argued, crossing his arms and legs in an attempt to show that he was willing to argue the point until curfew.

She picked up on his body language her lips almost non-existent by this point but he knew better than to think she'd concede so easily.

"That..." she said her voice strained and severe, "isn't up to me." Her grip on her quill didn't loosen and Sirius thought it was in danger of breaking. "However, that is not what we're here to talk about."

"I thought we were talking about my future?" he shrugged. He knew she would hard to keep Dumbledore from recruiting him when he graduated, but he also knew she was too smart to think she had a chance of changing his mind.

"We are here..." she forced herself to release the grip on her quill, her lips were still gone through, "to talk about your career prospects."

"Is that not what we were talking about?"

"The Order of the Phoenix is not a career, Sirius Black." She started but Sirius sat up in his seat and grinned stupidly.

"The Order of the Phoenix? Is that it's name? That's awesome!" He was a hair from bounding in his seat. "It sounds like a band or something. I was expecting something stupid, you know, stuff named by old people are usually dumb, but Order of the Phoenix is brilliant."

"I trust that you realize that none of this information leaves this room?" She said sternly.

"Oh, yeah sure. I mean I'm gonna tell James and the guys, but y'know." He shrugged, "and Frank and Alice, they'll want to know, oh and-"

"No Black," she interrupted "you may not tell anyone."

"But James, Remus, and Peter already know."

She closed her eyes and sighed, "alright, you may mention it to them, in private you understand. You must not be overheard."

"I can manage that."

"As for what I was saying, the Order of the Phoenix is not a career. We do not get paid, you will still have to support yourself."

Sirius sat back in his seat, his crossed arms tightening and looking away.

"Yeah, Remus mentioned that might be the case."

"And...?"

"I did try to look through the info, I just, couldn't find anything interesting. I guess I just..." Sirius paused to think he wasn't sure he really even understood the problem himself, "I guess I just can't really imagine myself graduating. Like not that I don't think I will I just..."

She nodded, "that is not uncommon. You've been a student your whole life, it's not unreasonable to be unable to accept that it's coming to a close. It will get easier as you get closer to graduation. By the time you turn seventeen, you'll be anxiously waiting to start out on your own, I'm sure."

Sirius rubbed his forearm again avoiding her gaze. "I don't think I'll be allowed to wait, they'll kick me out the moment I turn seventeen, I'll be lucky if they give me time to pack my trunk. They won't give me any money to get started anywhere else either. I know James'll let me stay with him but his family is so... different. They kind of- they kinda scare me." He wasn't sure why he was telling her this, he had never even let himself think about it before, it scared him too much. He glanced at McGonagall's face, nervous that he'd find pity there, but needing the reassurance all the same. Neither pity nor judgment showed on her face, just calm acceptance. As though he'd been talking about a low transfiguration grade on a test taken the day after a full moon. She'd always given him a bit of leeway on those tests.

"Have you made any attempt to save for the event that you're forced out?" She asked, no change in her tone. He wouldn't disappoint her if he said no.

"I never get money period. Anything I buy it's because I know how to sign my mother's name on the owl order forms or because I've stolen a few galleons from her bag." He tried to not indicate just how often he did either of those things.

"You might want to consider a summer job then. You live in a muggle village, yes?" she paused long enough for him to nod, "the pound to galleon conversion rate is quite good. If you're diligent about saving it you may just have enough for a small flat by the time you're seventeen."

"They'd throw a fit if they found out..." Sirius said, a half grin forming. Anything that ticked off his parents was okay in his book. She gave a reluctant smile, not trying to encourage rebellion was hard when the people the student was rebelling against were psychopaths.

"As for not being able to imagine your future, that's alright as well. You don't have to be able to picture it, you just need to plan for it. What are the things you enjoy doing?"

Sirius allowed her to direct the conversation now. He had few hobbies, as he was always spending his time finding new ways to protect himself and his friends. McGonagall mentioned the cassette tape again, and encouraged him to think of pursuing a career in Enchantment, he told her about the Marauder's map in very brief terms, talking about the enchantments they'd placed that didn't involve stalking people and secret passageways, it impressed her and she requested to see it so he had to lie and say they'd lost it. She'd seemed particularly interested in the spell that made it disappear and reappear upon spoken passphrase. She immediately deduced the enchanted parchment's primary use in talking during classes.

Sirius left McGonagall's office with a brain full of ideas for that little walkman that was sitting abandoned in his trunk somewhere. His resolve to pull it out and tinker with it only growing as he headed back to the common room.

His friends would, no doubt, bombard him with questions about the meeting. Sirius wasn't sure what to tell them. James would never accept Sirius renting his own flat when he could just crash at the Potter's. Maybe James thought he'd be lonely, but Sirius was confident he'd just be thankful to get away from his mother. It wasn't that he thought he was a burden, the Potters had made it very clear that they wanted him around, but that was the problem. Even before they'd written him off completely his parents had never enjoyed his presence.

Adults didn't like Sirius, that had always been how things were. He got into trouble, he caused problems, he grew bored too quickly. This was a fact of life he'd become accustomed too a long time ago. It made him nervous when people refused to fit the pattern his life had always taken.

But that didn't mean he didn't love them. He loved James' parents more than he'd ever loved his own. But living with them was exhausting.

He decided he'd keep McGonagall's recommendation of a part-time job to himself for now. It would take him a while to decide how best to break it to James that he wasn't, no, he couldn't, live with him forever.

It wasn't a lie if he intended on telling the truth eventually… right?

A/N I know the walkman was invented in 1979 and this story takes place in 1976, the story works better this way and if Rowling can invent the PlayStation a year early so can I, darn it!