The Future of the Marauders by Esperanza Fuega
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing that has anything to do with Harry Potter. I don't even have the DVD's.
Author's Notes: Okay, this was inspired by... absolutely nothing. That's right, it has bugger all to do with anything else. It was written very early. Please excuse any grievous errors -- Kingsley was originally Bill Weasley, but that was struck down by plothole-hound extraordinaire, Christy Corr. Thank her. Enjoy!
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Some days, Sirius swore he had a built-in Snivellus radar. It was just natural, he claimed. However, on some nights, if you got him drunk enough, he would sit back in his chair and adopt the Dumbledore pose -- fingers steepled under his chin, eyes heavy-lidded in an attempt to look wise or from the drinks, it was surprisingly hard to tell -- then, he would tell you he had aliens from Alpha Centauri put it in.
They did it free of charge, he claimed. For the good of Earth and Hogwarts. Depending on how much firewhisky he and James had scrounged, the aliens would be six foot tall blonde Venuses or tiny green men with doorknobs for heads.
Really, though, Sirius just had a nose for trouble. When combined with keen, doglike ears, and dumb bastard luck, it was no wonder Sirius Black was a typhoon of troublemaking.
The Prince Regent of Pranks was currently on a mission. It was the all important skiving of class to get his liege, the Most Honourable King Potter, out of detention for Dungbombs that had gotten in Severus Snape's sock drawer overnight, in a mysterious fashion. And James and Sirius had just happened to be nearby. Totally innocent, of course. If only James hadn't kept that spare Dungbomb in his bloody pocket... Stupid berk.
Anyway. The Mad Irishman's statue that led directly to the detention hall was on the fifth floor, approximately one hundred meters from his current position, which was flat on his ass. Walls, in Sirius' opinion, were really annoying, and not flimsy at all. Jumping to his feet and rounding the corner, Sirius stopped dead in his tracks.
Snivellus Snape. Was hexing. A second-year. A Gryffindor second-year. Without thinking, Sirius's wand was in his hand, pointed forward. "Snivellus!" he roared. "You've exactly one-half a second to turn around!"
"Ah, Black. Your dulcet tones are even less frightening than usual." Snape was in possession of a sneer that reminded Sirius faintly of Mme Black.
"That hacks it. Expelliarmus!" Snape's wand flew from his hand, and Sirius caught it neatly in midair. "Oh, and Finite Incantatem." The boy, who had been doing a jerky quickstep for agonizing minutes, nearly collapsed with relief. Sirius walked over to him, still holding Snape at wand-point.
"Black, my wand. We'll settle this once and for all." Severus tried very hard to be very threatening. Sirius tossed a lock of hair out of his eyes, with an air of utter disdain.
"You're getting this wand back when I shove it up your slimy arse, Snivellus. Apologize to the boy. Umm," he looked down at the trembling pre-teen, an eyebrow raised. "What is your name?"
"Kingsley... Kingsley Shacklebolt." He looked like he was about to wet himself with excitement or fear or both.
"Aha. Well, Rexley, I'm Siri-"
"Oh, I already know who you are. Everybody knows you're Sirius Black."
"Watch your pet, Black, he's ready to puddle on the rug." Shacklebolt shot him a dirty look, but didn't blush. Sirius chortled; he was getting fond of the boy already.
"Snivellus, I think you have to apologize to our young friend Kingsley here twice, now." His tone was mockingly jovial, but behind the sparkle of his eyes lurked... something. Something Snape wanted to see even less than that werewolf pet of his. "I'm starting to lose my temper." Again, Black tossed his arrogant head.
"MuttermutterI'msorryyouwerebornfromthetwatofafilthybloodtraitorwhoreyoucouldhavebeenbetteroffasastreeturchinyouuselessnig--"
Sirius was hexing him before the sentence had fully left his mouth. Big, blasting, full-body hexes, everything he could think of. Tarantellegra, Jelly-Legs, and a new one James had been working on where the victim's saliva turned to glue mixed with juice from the hottest tamale ever.
It was made especially for Snivellus, and did not disappoint Sirius in its hilarity. Shacklebolt even recovered enough to cackle fiendishly at the sight.
"C'mon, let's go," Sirius said roughly, after Severus had smacked into several walls in his search for water, laying unconscious on the floor. Throwing Snape's wand after its owner, he walked away.
"Where are you going, Mr. Black?" Kingsley asked. "Are you going to do something cool? Can I come?"
"...It's Sirius, Rexley. Just Sirius. I'm on my way to detention to get James out of Filch's clutches, and then we're going to go snog girls and do grown-up things like -- oh, bugger that. We don't do grown-up things. Yes. Merlin knows someone needs to learn how to properly cause a bit of hell after I'm gone." He set off self-importantly, pulling his strides a little shorter so his protégé could keep up. "Now," Sirius said, from the corner of his mouth. "The most important thing to do after a prank is to look innocent, and act innocent."
He looked up at Sirius with big dark eyes. "You mean like not getting caught with Dungbombs after you've just set off a ton of them?" His eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Oh, you're good, kid," Sirius admitted, roughing up his hair. "You're like the little brother I never had."
"I thought you did have a brother?" Again, the innocent angel expression.
"You're the little brother I wish I had," Sirius corrected himself. "Keep that look for a while. It'll come in handy. Now," he said, bringing himself back to the task at hand. "When devoting your life to pulling pranks, it is very important to become friends with a genius. A whole host of them, preferably."
"Like Remus Lupin and Lily Evans? Remus gave me chocolate once when I fell down the stairs. He was really nice about it."
"Knowing Remus, he gave you no less than two bars of Honeyduke's Finest. Observe." They had reached the Mad Irishman, a squat little leprechaun statue with a studded shillelagh. "November rain," he instructed the statue. It moved aside, whacking a panel of the floor with its weapon to reveal a hidden slide. "Goes straight down into the dungeons. Only one way, though. I'll go first." Sirius fairly jumped into the hole, with Shacklebolt a second behind. The tile closed above them, plunging them into darkness.
"All right, then?" Sirius shouted back to him in the darkness.
"Yeah!" Kingsley said. "This is better than a Gringotts cart ride!" Sirius laughed, landing on his feet in the darkness, with an easy grace born of long practice.
"Okay now, Kingsley, this is what you do. You'll be coming to the end, you just kinda wanna jump -- AAAH!" Kingsley had jumped, all right, but far too soon, and his momentum carried him right into Sirius.
Or, to be more accurate, Sirius's bits. Resisting the urge to sob like a baby, Sirius reached for his wand. "Lu - Lu - Lumos..."
Kingsley, getting up slowly, looked around in the feeble light. "Where are we?"
"...dungeons," Sirius wheezed.
"Oh. Oh!" Kingsley ran over to Sirius, helping him up. "I'm terribly sorry!"
"Oh, that's fine, it's perfectly all right, it was your first time, you didn't know any better. It'll be okay," Sirius gasped. "Not the first time my men have taken a beating, haha."
"So," James Potter said, hidden in the darkness. "What are you doing down here, Sirius, besides taking your sweet time getting me the bloody beggar's fuck out of detention?!"
"Oh, just... Just making sure wisdom gets passed down to future generations!" Sirius said brightly.
"I see," James said, coming into the circle of wand-light, his black hair terribly mussed, hazel eyes glinting. "So, who are you, then?"
"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Kingsley said, offering his hand. "I'm in Gryffindor too."
"Aha! Well, Kingsley, good lad, come on, then!" James said cheerfully, shaking his hand. "Let's get to the kitchens, I'm feeling peckish. Detentions with Filch always do that."
"How can you retain an appetite after a detention with Filch?" Sirius asked in mock-disgust.
"Anybody's guess," James said, shrugging casually. "Let's be off!"
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Well, that was it. Yeah. Please bear in mind the vast majority of this was written at six am. It is rather nonsensical. I think the fact that I just typoed "nonsensical" seven times in a row speaks for itself.
This was originally a vignette, but I think I will continue it into a series of chapters. Sirius and James, showing a young prankster the ropes... It's a beautiful thing. And unlike most of my current works, this one has no pairings of any kind! What a novel concept! So, in short: If I get reviews, I continue. Even one. Just one.