Warning: The author, Akurei, would like to testify that she is volatile and revels in it. She likes insanity, fire, humour, pissing people off, writing and Sirius Black. She hopes to combine all of these in the forthcoming fic, which may or may not have the desired effect. Be aware that while fear remains optional at all times, it is strongly advised.

Disclaimer: The author would like to state that a warning and a disclaimer are different things, thus she can get away with it. She'd also like to point out that this is the shortest author's note she'll ever, EVER write, that more relevant explanations are at the bottom, that the third person is thoroughly amusing, that this is a run-on sentence and that Harry Potter is not hers (although she is convinced that Buddha and the SARS virus could change that).


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Sick as a Dog
Chapter 1: I Get No Respect



I am sex appeal personified, thought Sirius Black as he sashayed through the automatic door, chin-length hair blowing slightly off his perfect features as the breeze blew in from the open door behind him. With his hands on the hips that would have made Elvis green with envy, he surveyed the establishment, a devil-may-care grin on his pouting lips. The sexy eligible bachelor at 20 years of age removed his rather expensive, but completely worth it Ray Bans, revealing smoldering ice blue eyes that dared anyone not reduced to a quivering pile of fangirl to take a chance with me, baby'.

Someone addressed him, welcoming him to their abode. Like he cared. He was so above the little people. Sirius adjusted his leather coat over his spectacularly formed shoulder muscles, looking to all the world a nonchalant lady killer. The sexy beast moved his Gucci-clad foot, making the silver buckle sparkle under the dying fluorescent lights, as he pondered his next move.



It was the one who had spoken to him earlier, as if in a past life. She was about his age, but nowhere near as sexy. Not that he blamed her, poor thing. Sirius turned his chiseled chin towards her in a move worthy of a top earning male model.

he decided to answer her, in a burst of generosity. You had to give back to your adoring legions of fans every so often, anyway.

Would you mind moving off the sensor pad? A lot of cold air is coming in, and Mrs. Wallace over there tends to get cantankerous when she feels a draft...

Sirius raised a delicately manicured eyebrow, then closed his eyes, long lashes brushing against his face. He gave a little huff, wondering if these people would ever understand how hard it was to be studly and charming, 24/7.

Once he was off the sensor pad, the door hissed shut.

Black, Sirius Black, knew that the time for pleasantries was over. He had a mission to fulfill, one even more important than matching his countless leather outfits to his motorbike, which sat waiting outside, fully prepared to roar off into the night at the slightest hint of danger. Sirius squared his shoulders, and fixed his eyes onto the unsexy girl. His eyebrows came together in a frown as he read her nametag: Hi, my name's Suzy!. Sirius then locked his eyes into her own, knowing full well his seductive prowess was showing. His gaze spoke of his unrelenting and fierce nature, as well as his depthless loyalty and courage. practically trembled as she spoke.

I--is there anything I can help you find, s-sir?

For the first time since entering the building, Sirius looked doubtful, unsure. The low-quality lights were suddenly blinding, and the unswept checkered floor seemed very far away. The shelves of canned food threatened to engulf him, and the neon lottery display looked fierce and predatory. He felt a cold sweat gather on his brow. This was the moment of truth, the time when a man was either made or broken. His hour of reckoning was upon him, and Sirius intended to take it like a (very beautiful) man.

Er, yes. Where can I find your selection of... he trailed off, wishing he could just ask for condoms, like usual. Even asking where the W.C. was seemed like an infinitely favourable option. Sirius turned his gorgeous head away, knowing he probably looked like some conflicted Greek god at that moment, and settled his vision on the electric sign facing the outside street.

It said: OPEN 24 HOURS.

He took inspiration from this brave claim, turned back towards Suzy, and declared:

Where are your diapers?

Suzy might've been giggling at his discomfort, but Sirius preferred to believe she was swooning at his good looks.

Only real men bought diapers anyways, he told himself huffily.

Sirius then found himself being lead through the treacherous depths of the corner store, where he avoided not one but two little boys running at him with toy robots. He feared for his Gucci shoes, and prayed that the green substance he had sighted on one of the shelves was not radioactive, or worse, permanently staining. After what seemed like eternity, Suzy stopped in front of a large display of diapers.

Well, here are your nappies, sir, she chirped, smiling a little too brightly for Sirius' liking. He'd have to hex her if she giggled again.

And then he was alone. With diapers.

Sirius could not help but release a sigh of relief. His mission was at a close. He reached for a particularly promising-looking package, when suddenly he stopped.

What brand? Red or blue? Super absorbent or stretchy?

His hands were shaking. His breathing was heavy. He threw his head back, and cursed his cruel fate.

James and Lily, how could you?!

*earlier that evening*


It was late in the evening, and all was well in the Potter household. As well as things could ever be with one Sirius Black present, in any case.

Said menace was currently seated in the family room, with his best friend's infant son in his arms. Young Harry James Potter stared up at Uncle Padfoot', green eyes wide with curiosity. Sirius gazed back, smiling in a promising way.

One day, Harry. One day you, too, will know how to roll your tongue, rest assured. Because I'm going to teach you how, even if a certain Mr. Moony thinks I'd be a curse to the profession if I ever decided to instruct... But we don't listen to the mean little lycanthrope, do we? No we don't! He's just jealous of us, isn't he? Yes he is!

Harry giggled, and Sirius felt well rewarded for his efforts.

James Potter announced, casting an imperious look at his friend.

Sirius, as per always, ignored him completely.

No we don't listen to Uncle Moony! I never do! No I don't! And I'm fine! Yes I am!

That's debatable.

However, Sirius was only able to ignore for as long as he wasn't insulted. His fellow Marauders knew this well, and exploited it to the best of their ability.

What? I'm stable, Sirius retorted angrily, glaring at James.

Sure, Padfoot, James agreed, a holier-than-thou look on his face.

Sod off.

Excuse me? This is my house, and it was my wife who just made you dinner! You're in no position to be telling people to sod off, my canine friend!

Be a deer, and stop being an ass.

I wasn't aware that I could change into a donkey as well as a stag. Well. I'm just so talented that I surprise myself!

James caught the look on Sirius' face, and counted himself lucky that his friend couldn't attack him while he was holding Harry. Children truly were a blessing.

Useful in defensive maneuvers, too,' the bespectacled prankster mused. Lily then poked her head in from the kitchen, summarizing the scene with a quick glance.

I take it you haven't asked Mr. Black yet?

James gulped, knowing whatever response he gave was likely to be the wrong one. Sirius stood up from the couch, and handing a squirming Harry over to Lily. He watched James sweat for a few seconds more, gleeful not to be the one currently being subjected to Lily's scrutinizing glare. Finally, he decided to come to his long-time friend's rescue.

Well, he did question my sanity, but I doubt that's what you're referring to.

Sirius grinned at Lily, knowing she always found humour in his idiocy. Sure enough, the redhead was smirking at him in mere seconds. She tossed James a guilt-inducing look, and disappeared back into the kitchen, muttering to her son something about being surrounded by idiots.

So, anyways... James trailed off, hoping he wouldn't have to resort to commenting on the weather, but desperate to end the silence. Because if he didn't, Sirius would. And that was simply not a (safe) option. Letting Padfoot break the ice was always a disastrous occurrence. It usually ended with detention, or, now that they were out of school, bar fights and threats of jail time.

(In fact, James' own stag party had included both these results within a space of 15 minutes. James had received a black eye and had had to wear magical cover-up (Maybe-something) at his wedding. Sirius, on the other hand, had gotten blood stains on his leather coat, something he considered much worse than, say, a bleeding skull. But he had been able to console himself by laughing at James for wearing, as he put it, girly stuff. James had retaliated to this indignity by shoving lip stick up Sirius nose, something that not only blocked one of his airways for an extended duration of time, but also gave him a nasty rash.)

This inner flashback cost James dearly, as Sirius had started to talk.

What's the matter, Jimmy? Humbled into silence by my mere presence, are you? Sirius paused, flicked his eyes towards James to verify that he was becoming properly irked, then continued. Well, I can't say I haven't seen this coming for a long, long time. It was inevitable. Y'see, Jim--

Don't call me Jimmy', you self-absorbed, inept, moronic, repulsive, aggravating, insipid, mindless bast--

Careful, Jimmy! There's a child in the house, Sirius reminded James, in what he honestly thought was a helpful gesture.

James paused (and resisted the strong urge to succumb to his primal killing instincts, if only for the fact that bodies are hard to hide). He looked towards the closed kitchen door, then cast a silencing charm around the room. Sirius observed his surroundings patiently, in the meantime.

Don't call me Jimmy', you bastard, James finished curtly. Sirius blinked.

What, no more adjectives? You were really on a roll!

You're not worthy of my descriptive language.

How come? Are you saving it for your poetry anthology, Jimmy? Sirius peered at his fellow Animagus expectantly, but James only shook his head in an amused way. Sirius resorted to pleading. Just one, Prongs, that's all I'm asking for here! For good ol' Padfoot?

You're neither good nor old, Siri.

Did you just call me



I really hope that's not your great insult, Jamesie, cause you should know I got over that nickname years ago - you do know that right?

James repeated, noting with utmost satisfaction the anxiety apparent of Sirius' features.

C'mon, Prongs! Don't worry me like this!

James chuckled under his breath, fully aware he had pushed Sirius into a pathetic, desperate and pitiful state. That was all he could ask for, really.

You worry too easily, you malignant growth.

Sirius nearly squealed with relieved delight, and James swore that his friend's body language was identical to that of a wiggling puppy.

Putridly yours, Mr Prongs, came Mr Padfoot's swift and excited response. James laughed at his dog-like best friend, wondering not for the first time how he could so effortlessly and constantly toe the line between annoyingly idiotic and irresistibly lovable.

It has to be you, Padfoot, James spoke tenderly as soon as his laughter had abated. Sirius, still giggling, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the non-sequitur. James instantly wanted to take back his words.

Jamesiekins, your train of thought has left me at the station, and I'm not wearing trainers, Sirius stated frankly. What do I have to be? Man, I hope I'm not walking into something insulting...

James adjusted his glasses, hoping to avoid the eye contact which suddenly seemed very hard.

A...the...godfather. Harry's, he stuttered lamely, fervently wishing he'd rehearsed this like Lily had suggested. James gazed at Sirius with painful but necessary effort.

His friend's look showed first confusion, then surprise before Sirius' mouth curved downwards in a dubious frown. James' heart sank.

Have you even seen that movie, the canine Animagus deadpanned, the frown changing to a coy smirk before James' myopic eyes.

You absolute prat, James choked out, his tone absent of anything but intense and genuine fondness.

You're the prat - why'd you take so long to ask? A guy could start to feel insulted, Sirius replied, crossing the room to envelop his dearest friend in a hug. James returned it full-force, not caring that he was crying, because Sirius was, too.

Bloody hell, I hate sentimental crap! Look at my leather jacket - I just got it cleaned, too, Sirius sniffed regretfully as they separated. James rubbed his eyes furiously, eager to retort.

Your jacket! What about my t-shirt?

Sod on your t-shirt; leather's expensive!

They stared at each other, too drained to engage in the obligatory well-rehearsed repartees shared by all long-time friends.

James had begun speaking softly, but wasn't able to continue as his friend was hurriedly shushing him.

Yeah, yeah - me too, you great dork. In the non-romantic, forever-and-ever brotherly sense and all that..... Sirius finished with exasperation, completely sincere. Even if he felt he needed to reply, James would find he had no more words.

The silence stretched for a few minutes, though not uncomfortably. James casually removed the silencing charm he had cast earlier, and Lily's movements in the adjacent kitchen became audible once more.

"So, how much of our conversation d'you think she picked up," Sirius asked playfully, knowing Lily, being the charms prodigy she was, would have had no trouble whatsoever bypassing the silencing charm James had cast.

"Oh, I dunno, maybe...the entire thing," James replied, "You know how nosy she is."

"I am not!"

Both men grinned at each other, in silent agreement that revenge had been well served. Lily stormed out of the kitchen, clearly as furious with herself as she was with them.

"Really, my dear, you have to brush up on your stealth operations" - James avoided his wife's fist - "or at least take into account who you're dealing with before commencing your nefarious missions of espionage."

Sirius nodded in agreement, then winced slightly as Lily's fist finally made contact with James' shoulder. A look of acute pain crossed the latter's features, and Sirius sympathized with his friend, for while Lily was of slight build, she could beat most of their group into painful submission if given half the chance. (Sirius privately referred to this ability as the Law of the Enraged Redhead.)

Once James' shoulder was out of commission indefinitely, Lily rounded on Sirius, fully prepared to deliver her ire unto the dark-haired man.

Fortunately for Sirius, the doorbell rang. Sirius knew he had never heard a more holy sound as Lily stepped towards the door.

"Remus! We thought you weren't coming - you're dreadfully late," Lily berated, as the werewolf made his way into the foyer. James rubbed his shoulder, eyeing his friend accusingly.

"How long have you been watching through the window, Remus?" James demanded unceremoniously.

Remus merely smiled placidly in response. James and Sirius exchanged equally vexed looks, as if to say "He's been here the whole time, the bugger."

Said bugger, known to most as Remus, noticed his friends' shared irritation, and had the grace to look apologetic. He then turned his attention to Sirius, who immediately slung his arm over his friend's shoulders, Remus' earlier transgressions apparently forgiven.

"So, Moony! Howls it going?" Sirius inquired, straight-faced.

Or perhaps he plans to punish me, Remus thought stoically, letting himself be led into the Potters' family room. He turned towards the Animagus, and answered frankly:

"Not too grim, Sirius. One might even say my life's stellar right now."

"Good to hear - it sure is a dog's life, you know."

"Yeah, but the future doesn't look too black to me, seriously," Remus finished quietly, not missing a beat.

"Seriously, you guys had better stop, lest I decide to throw you to the dogs," James interrupted, though his tone was more entertained than exasperated. "Really, how are you Remus?"

"Same old, same old," Remus answered genially. "What about you guys?"

"Well," James began, smiling at Sirius, "Padfoot here's decided to be Harry's godfather."

"Only 'cause I was bored," Sirius protested weakly, trying to keep up his hard-core image, and failing. He was obviously delighted, if not a little embarrassed, about the honour bestowed upon him.

Remus was then hit with a wonderful, brilliant, evil idea.

"Lily, James," he said suddenly, turning to address the two parents. "How can you be sure Sirius is fit to uphold such a position? I mean, we're all very familiar with how idiotic, immature, rash and corrupting he is.."

"Hey!" Sirius apparently had a problem with this description of himself and chose to voice his disapproval, though this had no effect.

"Oh, hush - you know it's true. Anyway, as I was saying, shouldn't you put his devotion to this to the test? This is an important decision you two are making, after all. Not that I don't trust Sirius, it's just..no, wait - that's exactly it. I've never trusted Sirius, seeing as though I'm sane..."

"Moony - "

"Hush, I say!" Remus snapped at Sirius, his patience for the latter's heart-felt interruptions plainly at an end. "Now, I, for one, would feel a lot better if he was given a ... job interview, shall we say."

"A job interview," Lily echoed, intrigued by the possibilities of revenge she could enact through said test. "Of what kind?"

"Oh, this is ridiculous," James sputtered, offended that his choice of godfather was under scrutiny. "Sirius is the right guy for the job, aren't you, Padfoot ... Padfoot?"

Apparently James' judgment had indeed been misguided, as Sirius was currently stalking a fly on the Venetian blinds, and had been doing so since being hushed for the second time by Remus.

Utterly oblivious to his captivated audience, he pounced.

The fly did not move.

Sirius reached towards the string responsible for the lifting of the blinds.

The fly did not move.

His hand closed around the little tab attached to the string and tensed his muscles.

The fly did not move.

Sirius gave a vicious yank on the string, and the blinds contracted together, crushing the fly between metal. After a second or so, Sirius released the pressure on the string, letting the blinds drop a little to render the fly's remains visible.

The fly twitched its wings.

The same mashing process was repeated, though this time with increased violence and speed. When all was quiet, and the fly was unmoving, Sirius turned back towards his friends. Confused by their scandalized, incredulous and, in James' case, horrified expressions, he attempted to explain.

"I had to do it, guys. It was challenging my authority."

James spun on his heel, heaved a deep breath, spun back, and proclaimed,

"Sirius, your test is this: Harry needs diapers. You are to fetch them. Now."

"Bu-"

"No buts. You must prove yourself worthy," James dictated, with an undeniable finality that even Sirius recognized. Discouraged slightly, he turned to his lycanthropic friend.

"Remus, you can't let him - "

"Padfoot, right now my thoughts on your intelligence are as follows: your IQ is room temperature in Celsius. There, I said it!" Sirius put his hands up in defeat, not wanting to get Remus all emotional, and appealed to Lily.

"Lily, this is completely unfounded, I'm - "

"A questionable individual? Yes. Get out of my house, and don't come back until you have diapers." Sirius, now desperate for sympathy from any corner, gave a plaintiff:

"Guys - "

"Sirius, do I have to hex you?" James never had had much patience for Sirius' whining, though in the past this usually worked in the latter's favor.

"No, Prongs," Sirius all but whispered, all the fight gone out of him. Defeat was at hand, indubitably. James indicated the door, (which Sirius found very insulting, as he did know where it was located) and said:

"Good. Now begone."

*end flashback*

Sirius glowered formidably, staring down the display of diapers that was, at this moment, his most hated enemy, Snape included. He decided that the blue, stretchy ones looked pretty spiffy, and carted those off to the front register.

Suzy was chatting to an old woman when Sirius reached the cash register, but a sexy toss of his head fixed that quickly. She scampered over to ring him up, while the old woman looked at Sirius appreciatively, which creeped him out more than a bit.

"Mrs Wallace, I'll only be a minute," Suzy called to the old woman, who didn't seem to care, as all her attention was on Sirius. She leaned towards him, a kindly look on her face.

"Isn't she a pretty girl, Suzy? You should take a page out of her book, yes siree!"

Suzy froze in horror, and Sirius wondered which one of them was more insulted.

"Excuse me?!" he intoned disbelievingly, pleased to hear that his voice had none of the androgynous qualities supposedly attributed to his appearance. Mrs. Wallace looked properly shocked. She opened her mouth and froze, not knowing who to apologize to first.

Or at least, that's what Sirius thought her pause indicated.

"ACHOO!"

Sirius blinked, wondering if she'd really just sneezed in his face or if his mind was merely fabricating the next hellish occurrence in the series of blood-curdling events that had composed his evening.

"Sorry, sonny - I get a draft when the door's left open."

And then she waddled off towards the lottery display, totally unrepentant.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius collected his change from Suzy, and they commiserated mutely over the injustice of it all . He then readjusted his leather coat, ran his fingers through his hair, collected his package of diapers and strode cockily out the door into the night.

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And now the part you've all been waiting for: the second part! (If anyone gets that reference, I have only this to say: Spark is a dork.)

All right, this first chapter sets up two things readers should know about: firstly, the plot (look closely, it's there, I promise) and secondly, the format in which the plot will unfold. The format is this: present day - flashback to random points in the Marauders' lives - present day.

And there shall be no chapters that fall into cliche. Well, maybe two, but everybody loves a good cliche, damnit.

Book Five will be taken into consideration in regards to Sirius' and the Marauders' pasts, despite my... issues with it.

I am so open to suggestions and requests that it's scary... I guarantee to respond to all insightful reviews, and am more than willing to discuss anything and everything you may or may not have concerns with. Remember that when you leave a nice, long, thesaurus-aided review - don't be scared! I'm an extrovert, and you people are all so beautiful, so very, very beautiful...

Sorry for the lengthy author's notes - I tend to go wild with these... ^_^

NEXT TIME: Motorbikes, leather jackets and fainting, oh my! And, what danger lurks behind the acronym "DB"? Tune in next chapter to find out!