When Sirius went away to Hogwarts, he thought he was getting away from his hated family life at last. Unfortunately, his mother refused to simply watch her eldest son become a Gryffindor without any of her own personal interference and is quite keen to make her sons existence at Hogwarts a living hell. This is a story of how he became friends with Peter, Remus, and James. It's a story of love, hatred, and some serious mother/son issues. –Taking place during the Marauder's first year.
A/N – And it's true that I'm leaving out Peter just for a little while...I'm simply working off Sirius' quote in POA saying that it used to be just him, Remus, and James...I promise, I'm not erasing Peter because I don't like him...he's actually quite fun for me to write about...he'll have a big part later, I promise.
Disclaimer:
I hate writing these. I obviously am not creative enough to own any of this myself, and I'm endlessly grateful for J.K. Rowling, who has very successfully kept me entertained by unknowingly providing me with many characters to sack, hold captive and er...borrow for fanfiction.
Sirius was struggling to lift the heavy marbled black slab of stone from the floor of the caf's restroom.
He'd been going through the same routine for some time now. Every morning, he got dressed in the disgustingly formal clothing that his mother insisted on picking out for him. Then he stood silently in front of the grand gold framed mirror in his bedroom while his mother circled him with squinted eyes, muttering various insults while tugging on his robes, smoothing out wrinkles, and slapping his hand each time it strayed to find the pocket of his slacks.
"Don't slouch...Slytherins don't slouch."
She'd been saying things like that for as long as he could remember. 'Blacks never put their hands in their pockets like juvenile children', or 'Slytherins take pride in their appearance', and 'If you want to look respectable, like a true Black, you'll stand straighter.' Although he had no desire whatsoever to look like a 'true Black' or a 'respectable Slytherin', Sirius almost always obeyed his mother's requests.
After his mother's daily inspection, Sirius would quickly and gladly leave the house to walk directly to Madam Madeline's Tea Shoppe of West Diagon Alley, where he would change into his own clothes in the restroom at the back of the small tea shoppe.
He finally managed to lift the stone block from the ground of the café, revealing an open hole large enough to stuff his ratty old robe, hat, and faded jeans into. He hastily pulled his hidden clothing out of the floor and grinned.
When Sirius turned ten, his parents decided it was absolutely necessary for him to find a proper job so he could save up to pay for any materials he would need for school. Although his father had a very steady job with the ministry and the family had absolutely no trouble with money, his parents hoped that the summer job would teach him to live up to his name and teach him responsibility. So Sirius told them he found a job working at St. Ciniver's House of Magical Music, which was a very classy, dim lit shop in Diagon Alley. And this wasn't a complete lie. He had worked there shortly. He had been employed there for at least two days, afterall, possibly even three before he was fired for falling asleep under the baby grand piano. He figured a small portion of his brain had rotted from sheer boredom while he was there and caused him to forget the minor detail of how long he actually had remained working there.
As he had expected, his parents found the idea of him working at a formal, tasteful, and refined place was most expectable, and he was therefore permitted to leave every morning for work without question.
What they didn't know, however, was that Sirius worked daily at the opposite side of Diagon Alley where he had managed to find a decent job at a store called Quality Quiddich Supplies after being fired from St. Ciniver's. At first he was unbearably excited about this, but after being dubbed as clerk instead of chief inspector, he quickly lost interest.
Stuffing the black robes and slacks his mother had been endlessly dewrinkling all morning into the small hole of the floor was no easy task, but Sirius had managed to fully conceal the clothing and was now lifting the stone back into place.
He blew hair out of his eyes as he stood up and carelessly pulled his yellow and black nit cap over his head, causing his hair to sink a little more over his eyes.
The robes he pulled from his hiding place were brown and wrinkly, with countless strays of fabric and holes forming around the pockets and sleeves. His pants were in an even worse state of grubbiness, with frayed bottoms and a large blue patch over his right knee. He wore his orange work uniform shirt under his robes which bore the name of the store as well as his own name, which was spelt horribly wrong and just as his boss often pronounced it. Seerulis.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out of the bathroom, grinning as a very nicely dressed elderly couple eyed him with great distaste.
He glanced casually at his watch as he crossed the street. When he reached the building of Quality Quittich Supplies, he struggled for a moment with the front door, which always stuck. He swore loudly as he stumbled in after pinching his finger on the rusty metal latch. A woman standing near the check out counter looked at him offensively.
"Morning Mr. Perchette," Sirius said smiling at his boss, ignoring the woman's glaring."There are boxes that need to be unloaded in the back, Seerulis. And you're fifteen minutes late," his boss replied with irritation. "And don't forget the broom glove display you promised you'd have done three days ago."
It was a marvel Sirius hadn't been fired long ago. He was hardly a strong asset to the shop, and was very bluntly unenthusiastic with the job.
"Excuse me, sir, do you work here?"
Sirius turned around to see a tall middle aged man with neat gray hair, glasses, and dark eyes clutching a book on ancient Quiddich techniques.
"Mmm hmm," Sirius mumbled. Realizing he might be acting a bit unprofessional, he smiled at the man and straightened. "Yes I do, sir. Can I help you?"
"Er...yes, I...I can't seem to find a price on this book here..."
He handed Sirius the book. Sirius looked at it, flipped it over a few times and checked the inside cover, searching for a price tag. Not successful in finding the orange price label, Sirius simply looked back at his customer and shook his head. "Hmm, yeah...sorry, can't help you...I don't see it," he replied, handing the man the book back.
"Well...can't you...I don't know...ask someone?"
"Sure you can...right up at the front counter...his name's Mr. Perchette," Sirius directed proudly.
It was then that Sirius noticed for the first time a boy standing beside the man. He had laughed quietly after Sirius answered the man with the book.
"But...you...you work here," the man offered irritably.
"It's all right, dad," the boy said quietly. "I don't really want it, anyway."
Sirius guessed he and the boy were around the same age. The boy looked nothing like his father. He had very light brown hair and hazel eyes, which seemed to have an almost yellow tint.
"You going to Hogwarts this year?" Sirius asked him.
"It's my first year," the boy replied, "and you?"
"Yep."
"His name is Remus," the boy's father offered, "Remus Lupin." He had evidently forgotten his irritation with Sirius and was obviously attempting to help his son make new friends.
Sirius grinned when Remus glared at his father in embarrassment.
"Sirius Black," he stuck out his hand, which Remus shook, "it's nice to meet you." The boy smiled, but didn't say anything more.
"I'll see you at school, then," Sirius said as he turned from the two of them and headed to the back of the store.
It was certainly an odd thing, but Sirius had a talent for noticing how often people blinked during conversations. Well, perhaps it wasn't a talent, per se, but he always noticed anyway.
The boy he met that day blinked too much.
He didn't like when people blinked too much. It made him feel like maybe they were hiding something. Like they couldn't be trusted. His dentist used to blink more than what Sirius would have thought humanly possible. He pondered how the man could concentrate on teeth without having his eyes open for more than a second. Two years later Sirius read in the Daily Prophet that the man had been arrested for having a fake Apparating license. He decided that 'You can never trust blinkers' would be his new philosophy from now on.
Sirius grinned. "Yep. Unless I get expelled tomorrow, of course."
"Of course," Mr. Perchette smiled at him. "You know, you've done a great job this summer," he told him.
'Right, a great job...he's just saying that because I'm leaving.' Sirius thought bitterly, but smiled pleasantly at him.
"In fact...I'll tell you what...since this is your last day, what'd you say I let you out a bit early? In fact...right after the next costumer leaves," he paused and made a face as he pulled spider webs off of the shelves that held beater bats, "urg—anyway, after the next costumer, you can go on home. Get ready for school and such. I'm sure you've already got enough on your mind. No need to complicate it any further."
"Sounds great," Sirius replied happily. Of course, he wouldn't go home, though...but he could probably get in some last minute shopping for the day, maybe get some ice cream at Mortayls...
"And Seerulis.."
"Mmm?"
"Take off that ridiculous hat before someone sees you."
Sirius had taken a liking to his father's old purple top hat which he chose to wear to work that morning. He had it slanted at a peculiar angle atop his head, and was wearing it proudly. All day he had been insisting to humored customers that it made him look five times taller. He took it off his head reluctantly and put in on the coat rack by the door. A bell chimed throughout the store as it did every time someone entered or left.
"Ten minuets, James, and I'm serious this time," a woman's voice sounded from the front of the store.
"Oh come on...we spent...what? Two hours at...what's it called? Auntie Anus's..."
Sirius hated Audrey Agnus's. His mother could spend hours there, picking out boring, pointless and fragile looking magical collectables, all which seemed to be places on high shelves, dangling precariously, threatening to break if he got too near them. It was traumatizing to say the least.
"9 minuets, 55 seconds, now, so suggest you get a move on," the woman said as Sirius rounded the corner of the shop and smiled at the two of them.
'Alright...9 minuets, 55 seconds to freedom' Sirius thought as he stepped behind the counter, immediately resuming his normal position, leaning against the window, arms crossed, watching his potential costumers.
"Hey mum, what's a fetish?" the boy asked lazily, picking up a book and weighing it in hands before putting it back on the shelf.
The women looked thoughtful for a moment and spoke slowly when she apparently reached an answer. "A fetish? Well...it's kind of an obsession. I think it has something to do with being sexually attracted to odd objects...like feet or towels and things."
The boy laughed and rumpled his already insanely messy black hair.
"So if I called you 'foot fetish' from now on in public...people would think you were bizarrely attracted to feet?"
"Try not to do that, honey," she said very seriously with a frown.
'Lucky prat' Sirius thought as he watched the boy poke his mother with a broom cleaning stick. 'If I even thought about feet fetishes in front of my mother I'd be banned from life itself for at least two years.'
Sirius watched the two of them make their way around the entire shop before the boy picked up a cleaning kit for his broom and held it up for his mother to approve. They said a few words to one another and then came to the counter at the front of the store.
"Hi there," Sirius addressed the woman, "is this all?"
"Unfortunately," the boy chimed in.
'Spoiled little bugger.' Sirius glanced at the price tag. "Twelve galleons, mam."
"Say, aren't you a bit young to be working here?" she asked him while digging through her handbag. He had the insane urge to push up her glasses, which were falling down her nose.
"Yes," he replied casually while bagging the kit, "but seeing as how I'm so immature and ungrateful...not to mention ignorant and disappointing...my parents decided I needed a job to teach me....responsibility or something."
"Well, I think that's lovely," she said smiling before giving a meaningful look at her son. "I'm sure you'll learn a lot working here."
Sirius was fighting the urge to yawn. He hated when people attempted polite conversation while they checked out. Most people that came in were all proud parents of their young witch or wizard, and wouldn't shut up about how bloody happy they were that their children received their letters. Some particularly obnoxious parents sometimes took to rambling on about their own personal favorite classes and professors, occasionally telling boring tales of what they obviously considered to be adventurous stories of playing Quiddich or visiting Hogsmeade.
"It's a cool job though, right?" the boy asked, picking up his purchase, " I mean...it must be so bloody great...working at a Quiddich shop, of all places..."
'No, not cool' would normally be Sirius's response to this, but he enjoyed seeing the spoiled boy look at him with complete jealousy.
"Best job in the world," Sirius grinned proudly. "It's incredible."
"Do you get to try out the newest Quiddich stuff?"
"Oh, all the time."
"Lucky," the boy replied, shaking his head.Well, the guy certainly wasn't a blinker. But why should he be? His personality was worn out on his sleeve for the world to see. Spoiled prat with a mother practically under his Imperious Curse, trying constantly to make her son happy. The boy was probably at home right now...counting all his new gifts and eating a feast entirely made of chocolate.
Sirius was walking the few blocks between his house and Diagon Alley, absentmindedly twirling his top hat with his fingers and kicking a small rock in front of him. He pulled on the collar of his hideous white turtleneck, which was practically choking him to death while overheating him at the same time. He dragged his dark black robes behind him while sun beat down on him as he walked. He hated the clothing his mother chose for him. And he hated walking to and from the tea shop wearing the stupid things. He looked at his watch. Only thirteen more hours separating him from Hogwarts. Thirteen hours.
The train was leaving in five minuets Sirius heard a lady passing scream at her children. Sirius was standing beside his mother with a rucksack thrown over his shoulder, large wooden suitcase at his side, balancing an owl cage under his left arm where his pet owl, Peachry was sleeping lazily on one leg.
"Remember...," his mother began.
"I know, Slytherin is the greatest place ever...Blacks don't put their hands in their pockets, and hopefully I won't be such a disgrace to my family after this year..."
She scowled at him. He normally avoided cutting his mother off, thus avoiding scowls identical to this.
"I should be boarding the train," he said before she could scold him, "I'll see you."
And he walked away. That was it. No tearful goodbye that seemed to fill the rest of the station. No last minuet speeches of how proud his mother was of him, and certainly no hugs or even a friendly wave like the other children received. Just one last scowl and Sirius struggled to board the train without any help with his trunk and owl.
"...Oh nonsense, Remus...when I was in school my Herbology teacher was a vampire, Dumbledore idolized the man...could care less that if he was a vampire or not..."
"But dad...that's different."
"No it's not," the man shushed him. "Now hurry up now...the train leaves in two minuets."
Sirius recognized both the boy and the man from somewhere. 'Oh right, the blinker' he quickly remembered as the boy came nearer.
"Need help with that?" he offered Sirius, reaching for his trunk.
"Oh, hey thanks. Remus, right?"
The boy nodded and helped Sirius with his trunk.
"Where's your stuff?" Sirius asked him.
"I put it in the back already. It's kind of a run down compartment, but no one else was there."
Sirius saw what the boy meant. For some reason this compartment was one hundred times worse than all the others. The seats were torn, the floor had a small hole rusting through it near the door and the windows had an odd yellowish crust forming around them.
"My dad says it's part of the old train," Remus told him, lifting the trunk into a compartment above the seats. "The rest of the train was remodeled...they left this compartment intact as kind of a...uh...," he waved his hand as he struggled to find a good word, "as kind of a memorial, I guess."
"Hmm. So we should be honored, really. To sit here, I mean" Sirius replied, plopping down casually on the torn seat. "Just imagine it...years ago someone who's old or probably dead by now was sitting in this very seat...brings tears to my eyes, it does," he said sarcastically.
"I know what you mean...look I have goose bumps," Remus added as he sat down across from him, holding out his arm.
They both laughed for a while but as their laughter died the compartment became very quiet. Remus watched out the widow, obviously searching for his dad. He spotted him in the crowd and waved. Sirius waved too, just so he didn't feel too left out. Remus's father beamed and waved back proudly. He was standing next to an equally happy looking woman with light brown hair and a thin frame. Remus's mother, Sirius guessed.
"Where are your parents?" Remus asked him, looking away from the window as the train started to move.
Sirius shrugged. "I don't know....probably at home by now, sitting in their best dress robes in the kitchen and staring at the wall. They do important things like that all day...couldn't miss it to come see me off."
Remus didn't push the topic.
Sirius pulled the rucksack off of his shoulder and began rummaging through it. After a few seconds he found what he was looking for. Remus eyed the orange beret and laughed as Sirius threw it on over his head.
"I love hats," Sirius announced, "my mother hates them, but then...," he sighed as though this fact bothered him, "to each his own, I suppose..."
They spent the remainder of the time chatting about their various subjects and what each of them had been told about Hogwarts.
"What house are you hoping to be in?"
Sirius shrugged. "Anything but Slytherin."
"But weren't you saying earlier that-"
"That my parents would most likely disown me if I became anything but a Slytherin...yes, yes I most definitely did say that. And they would. Kick me out that is."
Remus grinned. "I'm hoping for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor," he told him, "my mum was in Ravenclaw, and my dad was in Gryffindor...they still fight over which house was the best."
Sirius laughed. "Well, my parents certainly agree on the topic of which house is the 'best'."
"Let me guess...," Remus started, forcing his face into a look of mock concentration... "Hufflepuff, right?" he concluded sarcastically.
"Well of course! How on earth did you guess, you sly dog?"
Sirius leaned his head back on the seat, not bothering to move even though metal was poking him hard in the neck. He was suddenly feeling quite tired. Just as he closed his eyes to get in a short nap before getting to Hogwarts, someone whipped open the door to their compartment, cracking the small glass window on the compartment door as it slammed against the woodwork.
"Damn it! Seven years now...," Sirius heard the voice of a boy declare as he entered the room.
Sirius looked to see who it was. It was the spoiled kid from the store. Jake or Jared or something.
"They said this compartment was empty...," he stated, "mind if I sit here? I was hoping to get away from that blasted Jefferson boy..."
He paused when he looked at Sirius, and then grinned stupidly. "Nice hat."
Sirius glared back for a second, then rested his head back against the metal bar.
"Actually, Gary and Hessle just left to use the bathroom...they'll be back in a minute," Sirius lied.
"Bathroom? There's no bathroom on this train," the boy countered.
"That's what you think," he grinned at the ceiling, which also had a rusted hole in it. Sirius watched as patches of green and blue whipped by outside.
But the stubborn bastard didn't leave. He was introducing himself to Remus as Sirius felt the weight of the boy sitting beside him. 'James' he suddenly remembered.
"Hey, you're the one who works at the Quiddich shop! What was your name again?"
'The one who works at the Quiddich shop?' Sirius thought. 'What was that? Perhaps he should answer with something like He Who Works at the Quiddich Shop. "Sirius Black," he managed to say, not bothering to move his head from the back of the seat as he talked.
"James Potter," the rude one announced.
Sirius laughed. 'The rude one', he thought to himself as he laughed again, 'I like that.'
"What's so funny?" James asked him.
"Nothing..."
"What?"
"I said nothing. Honestly, I just laugh sometimes...I'm like...a...what'd you call it?" He sat up suddenly and looked at Remus. "You know...er...a..."
"Crazy person," Remus offered.
"Thanks, no...damn, what'd you call that..." he snapped his fingers once, and then stared out the window for a while thinking in frustration.
When he looked back he watched James and Remus stare at him for a while, which caused him to laugh again and forget what he was trying to think of.
"I'm going to second the crazy person theory," James announced, "or perhaps completely sodding mad would better describe it..."
Remus and James laughed but Sirius rolled his eyes. For some reason he didn't find it funny at all when James said it like that. He shrugged it off and watched James blink while he talked to Remus. Four...five, six... He wished the guy would blink more so he could blame his dislike on something. James grew more and more annoying to Sirius as he insisted on asking boringly stupid questions to he and Remus. After a very long ride with a seat spring beginning to feel very present, Sirius stood for the first time in hours and raised his arms to stretch. He glanced out the window. They were stopped outside a dark train station and it was raining heavily. He took off his bright orange beret and reached in his bag to find his corduroy water repelling brown hat, which looked a bit like a bowl tipped upside down with a rim surrounding it. Finding it, Sirius quickly placed it on his head and adjusted it so his hair was pushed over his eyes again and it was tipped and slightly crooked. James laughed in the same arrogant tone Sirius had been listening to all day.
"What is it with you and hats, Sirius?"
"I love hats," Sirius answered simply in a bored voice, throwing his school robes on. "Don't you have any hobbies, Potter? Anything in particular you care for? Weird obsessions? Interests? 'Other than yourself', he thought bitterly as he watched James
"Well, yeah...," James started, "But I don't wear brown bowler hats often."
'What a completely idiotic answer', Sirius concluded bitterly as James laughed at himself. "That's it now...no more than four to a boat...only one boat of three, now..." A short, plump man with a very unflattering yellow shiny robe was beckoning the first years to the edge of the water, leading groups of four to small wooden boats waiting on the shore.
"Boats? Wait...we're supposed to...take...," Remus was staring in horror at the transportation the short man was offering them. "So we're going to...to sail across or something?"
"Well, yeah, how else do you expect to get across?" James asked pointing to the great lake separating them from the castle.
"But...there must be some other way...," Remus continued wildly, "I hate boats. I hate water."
"Oh come on, it won't be that bad, I promise," Sirius said, leading him along to the last boat. "You'll be fine...I'm sure of it."
Rain was dropping harder on the ground, splashing mud on the hems of their robes as they stood along the shoreline. Remus hesitantly climbed aboard, immediately clutching the sides of the boat with both hands and staring intently at his shoes. Sirius grinned as he sat across from him with James. With a sudden jerk, the boats began to make their way towards the castle. Sirius titled his head towards the sky and stuck his tongue out, catching fat rain drops and listening to the sloshing of the water against the wood of the boat. Lights were shining foggily in the distance as the outline of Hogwarts started to become clear. Remus looked absolutely terrified. He refused to look up from his feet, and was now clutching the sides of the boat so desperately it was as though he thought if he'd let go, he'd immediately die. Sirius began to rock the boat playfully as he watched Remus.
"Don't...don't' do that," Remus snapped at him, "I'm serious...please...."
But now James joined Sirius in rocking the boat gently against the waves, looking in the distance with a straight face as though he hadn't even noticed Remus was there. Sirius laughed as Remus closed his eyes in terror.
"Oh come on, it's not that bad," he told him. "Just join in...start rocking...it'll make you feel better."
"I guarantee it won't," Remus coldly responded.
"Well then," James chimed in, "we won't stop until you start."
Remus quickly rocked a little for about two seconds and then stopped.
"Mmm. No, no, Remus. That certainly won't do," Sirius declared, "you have to look up from your feet when you do it...and sort of shift your weight more...like this..."
He began violently rocking the boat now.
Remus looked up from the floor. "I hate you, you know," he said through gritted teeth as Sirius grinned.
"Yes just like that...," James said, rocking quickly from left to right while Sirius laughed. The prat was starting to grow on him.
To Sirius' surprise, Remus suddenly joined them. "There," he said as he shifted his weight from side to side, still pale and clutching the sides. "You happy now?"
"Ecstatic." Sirius beamed.
But to his surprise Remus continued to sway back and forth with them. And within minuets, they were all dangerously rocking the boat, laughing as warm water slashed up at them and soaked the bottoms of their robes. The closer they got to the castle, the more their tiny boat tipped back and forth hazardously. And then with a sudden jolt, before Sirius knew what was happening, the boat tipped to its right; momentarily pausing for about a second before flipping over, dumping the three boys into the murky deep water. Sirius heard screaming from a boat nearby when he surfaced, and watched as James and Remus popped up next to him. James quickly swam to the boat and struggled to flip it back properly. Remus joined him, desperately pushing up on the wooden boat while treading water and clearly trying not to panic.