Chapter 5
Moving On
Never give up. Don't worry. It'll all work out in the end.
That's what I would've said thirteen years ago. It was kind of my life philosophy. Funny that I'm listening to it now to win a card game. Even funnier that the birdbrain in the corner is giving me strange looks for talking to myself.
How the mighty have fallen, right James?
As it turned out, all of Sirius' worrying had been in vain. On graduation day he sat three seats back, behind James and then Remus, his Hogwarts robes rimmed with the scarlet ribbon of superior achievement on seven or more NEWTs, and no one seemed the wiser to the fact that he had used illegal magic to get them.
The best part of the entire event was that Snape sat behind him, his robe edged with the silver of only six NEWTs. Well, that and the unexplained transmogrification of the microphone into a belching blowfrog during Dainspore's commencement address. Really, Dainspore shouldn't have looked so surprised. The prat had it coming, after all.
The after party in Hogsmede was a blur of mead and laughing and music. Sirius vaguely remembered a mistletoe, if only for the fact that it seemed strangely out of season and so he'd pulled Annie Braxton under it and kissed her right soundly on the lips, and then been pushed under it together with Peter and had smooched the blushing boy wetly on the cheek. There was a wild spin across the dance floor with a brown-haired Ravenclaw whose name was either Nancy or Nelly, bumping into laughing couples and stepping on feet all over the place before they broke apart, her hand lingering on his a few moments longer than necessary. He wanted to follow her as she slipped out the door into the night, but he was grabbed by James and swung into a circle of Gryffindor boys and girls and soon forgot about her.
"Where's Peter?" he yelled above the noise after some time had passed.
James pointed behind Sirius, and the taller boy worked his way around the circle until he could peer into the dark corner. Peter stood stiff against a wall, his face bright red with the reflection of the disco lights flashing on the ceiling as a pretty, plump little Hufflepuff girl sidled up against him and stroked his cheek.
"Whoohoo Peter!" Sirius cheered, and found out it wasn't only the lights making his friend's face so red.
Things got even hazier after that. Peter disappeared for awhile, and then James and Lily, and Sirius found himself alone with Remus, slinging an arm over the other's shoulders partially in friendship, partially to help him keep his feet. Remus bore it quite patiently, nodding at all the right times and really only interrupting Sirius' monologues on their friendship when something especially incriminating was about to come out.
"Really, though, there washn't any ri-reason for them to think that we were in on it. Sheriously, the mrhphhmrph…bloody hell Remus you don't have to smother me…anyway, that was more our style. And you. Why didn't you tell us earlier you were a mshrphphhh…" Sirius glared when Remus didn't move his hand, though the effect was slightly hampered by the fact he couldn't quite see straight and was looking more at Remus' left shoulder than his face.
"Sirius," Remus began, in his serious tone. "Do you remember that little discussion we had 5th year about when to stop talking? Because now would be a really, really good time to do just that."
Sirius probably answered Remus. He figured he had, though the evening went more or less black after that. But if there was one thing Sirius could be certain about it was the fact that he had a smart mouth and knew when to use it, so he could be sure he made some witty, snarky comment as soon as his mouth was free.
He'd never know what it was, though, as the next thing he remembered was waking up in his bed in Gryffindor Tower not sure which end of his body needed the john more. A rumbling in his stomach answered that question and he darted out of bed and towards the bathroom. Business finished, he stumbled back to his bed, head in his hands and squinting against the early morning light glaring through the windows. A quick glance around the room showed his friends present and accounted for, at least the ones he thought would be there. Loud snores came from Peter's bed, and Remus' robe was folded in the extremely pedantic way that showed he'd been more than a little drunk when he'd gone to sleep, but the curtains around James' bed were pushed back and the Marauder himself was conspicuously absent. Sirius grinned a knowing grin before flopping back onto his own bed with a groan, not bothering to pull the curtains.
The room was brighter but the angle of the sun less blinding the next time he woke. Remus' robe was gone, though Peter was still sawing logs. By now, Sirius' head was pounding and he would've sworn to never drink again if he hadn't known it would be a lie.
Surprisingly, it only took a bit of effort for Sirius to drag himself out of bed and down to the breakfast table. Of course, there was the mandatory brushing of his teeth, since his mouth felt and tasted like a twelve-year old carpet had flown into his mouth. That finished, he went in search of clothing. He found his robes crumpled in a heap at the end of the bed and one sniff told him he'd be eating alone if he wore it down to breakfast. Instead, he slipped into a torn, battered pair of jeans, pulled a green ski sweater over his head and nicked James' soft slippers out from under his bed since he wouldn't be needing them anyway this morning.
There were more than a few students gathered in the Gryffindor common room, and they all shouted greetings and a few of the braver fifth and sixth years slapped him on the back as he passed them by on his way to the portrait hole. He thought he bore it all rather stoically, only snapping at the more enthusiastic congratulators, considering his head felt as though it were made of glass.
The halls were mostly empty. A few ragged looking Hufflepuffs dragging themselves back to their quarters nodded to him as they passed under a portrait of Merius Maggot slaying an orc. A few minutes later a group of giggling Ravenclaw girls passed by him, and he vaguely remembered one of them from amid the whirl of drink and music from the night before.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, with the marauders split up and many of the students either already finished eating and having left to pack, or too hung over to manage a coherent sentence. Sirius counted himself among the latter and delved with relish into a greasy pile of eggs and ham, grateful for once that he could sit next to a quiet, sleepy-eyed fifth year with a nod and eat his breakfast in silence. Then, it was back to Gryffindor Tower, where Peter still had not moved from his bed, and a quick pack.
At noon, Sirius took it upon himself to wake Peter by means of a Correpto Repo spell that made Peter spring up in bed, scratching at his shirt and yelling "get them off, get them off" frantically. He gave Sirius a rather vicious look, especially good considering it came from Peter and Peter, as a fact, was far too baby-faced to pull off a successful glare.
Sirius just grinned unrepentantly. "Sorry, mate, but it's twelve o'clock and check out is at two. Don't want the house-elves making off with your socks, do you?"
Peter's glare didn't exactly lessen, though he did drag himself out of bed in a hurry and began tossing things in his trunk. They worked in silence for awhile, Sirius trying to ignore his aching head and shoving things haphazardly into his own trunk while Peter searched around the room for his own things. It was really quite interesting what managed to end up where over the course of the school year. Sirius watched with interest once he had finished his own packing as Peter fetched his crystal ball out from under James' bed and, after a simple searching charm, managed to balance precariously on a chair and drag his mittens down from the top of the window sill. Sirius briefly wondered how they had managed to get up there, and almost asked Peter that very question until he remembered that James and himself had snuck them up there in retaliation for something or other. At least he thought it was likely in retaliation for something. Either way, he decided it best not to bring up the question of how they had gotten there in the first place.
Remus returned about half past noon and Sirius moved from his spot on the bed to help him pack. He was back in place after a few moments, however, as Remus complained he was doing more harm than good.
"Ungrateful prat," Sirius muttered. "See if I offer to help you again."
"If you'd just learn to actually fold clothes…" Remus said, sounding rather exasperated. Sirius flinched. He'd forgotten about werewolf senses, and hadn't meant for the other to hear.
"Why don't you help Peter instead?" Remus asked. "I think he's having trouble finding his scarf." There was an accusatory note in his voice that said he knew exactly why Peter's scarf was lost and who had lost it.
"Fine, fine," Sirus agreed, waving his hand dismissively. "Peter, why don't you check the girls' dorm?"
Peter looked at Sirius suspiciously. "But I've never been in the girl's dorm," he said.
Sirius shrugged. "Well, things have a way of making their way to odd places around here. I think you'd be used to it by now. You know, the other day I found my wand had disappeared into the Ravenclaw prefects' baths and when I went to go get it Marianne was—"
"Just shut it, will you?" Peter barked, stalking past Sirius towards the door. "Really, you're not ten years old anymore." He shut the door with a bang and the remaining Marauders could hear him stomping down the stairs.
"You know," Sirius said after a moment. "I don't think he liked my help."
Remus snorted. "Can't really blame him, since he wouldn't need help in the first place if it weren't for you." Remus fetched his own scarf from the top dresser drawer and put it in his trunk.
Sirius moved over to Remus' bed again and, wonder of wonders, actually began to fold the few clothes still piled on the bed. "That one wasn't me, Moony. James just happened to tell me about it."
Remus sighed and took his slightly battered, but now neatly folded, coat from Sirius with a nod of thanks.
"What is it, then, Moony?" There was a bit of an edge to Sirius' voice.
Remus realized with a start he must have been frowning. It wasn't like Sirius to ask insightful, if rather abrupt, questions. It wasn't like Sirius to notice anything at all about other people unless it was some lewd comment about various body parts. Remus sighed again, not wanting to answer his friend's question. Sirius could be…touchy…on certain subjects, and Remus had a feeling what he was thinking could be one of them.
"Nothing, really," he began, then changed his mind. It was the end of the year, after all. The end of seventh year, in fact, and if Sirius wanted to blow up and stay mad at him he wouldn't have to deal with the consequences. "It's just, sometimes, don't you think you and James are a little hard on Peter? I mean, you only barely treat him better than you treat Snape."
Once again, Sirius managed to surprise Remus. Rather than blowing up into a defensive rage, Sirius merely snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "Bollocks, Remus. Of course we treat him better than we treat Snape. He's our friend! And he knows it's all in good fun. At least, most of the time he does."
"He seemed rather pissed just now," Remus pointed out.
"That's because he doesn't know James hid his scarf for his own good," Sirius replied smugly.
"Just how is making him sneak into the girls' dorm and die of embarrassment for his own good?" Remus asked skeptically. "He's not you or James, Sirius. He's got this thing called shame. You might try it sometime."
"Aha!" Sirius exclaimed, as if Remus had just stumbled upon some startling truth. "That's just it! James explained it to me, you see. Peter's got a thing for Wynne, you know that cute dark haired sixth year? And he told James one night, so James snuck the scarf up there into her dresser. Then when Peter goes up, stuttering in embarrassment and blushing bright red asking if anyone's seen his scarf, she'll be the one to give it to him. And then he can go on about how horrible his friends are and how they play all these mean tricks on him and she'll feel poorly for him so she'll give him a hug and maybe a kiss on the cheek and tell him that she'll be his friend whenever we aren't. And I'm sure you know how it goes from there."
"Whatever you say," Remus said, not wanting to deal with the inevitable fuss that would occur if he pointed out just how ridiculous that plan sounded. "Just, maybe you should explain that plan to Peter once he gets back. That is, assuming the girls haven't pummeled him to death for coming into their dorm. And assuming he actually makes it over the stairs." Remus hid a grin by busily rearranging the last of his belongings to fit into the trunk as Sirius' face dropped at his worlds. Apparently Sirius had forgotten about the stairs when agreeing with James on what a great plan it was.
As it was, Peter returned to the boy's dorm half an hour later with a few new bruises and a big grin plastered on his face. Sirius nudged Remus not-so-subtly in the ribs a few times until Remus gave in with a sigh and asked Peter what he was so happy about.
"Wynne…" Peter sighed dreamily, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks.
"So you got your scarf back then, did you?" Sirius said, slinging an arm over Peter's soldiers.
"No thanks to you," Peter retorted, apparently remembering he was mad at the other boy. He stepped away with a huff and turned to pack his scarf into his already overstuffed trunk.
"Hey," Sirius protested. "You got to talk to Wynne, didn't you. Besides, it was James' idea. He just told me about it after."
Peter just shot Sirius a pointed glare that made it quite clear that, no matter its effects on his love life, Peter was not amused by his friends' little prank and that they were in no way forgiven.
Sirius just shrugged and went downstairs, hoping to find better company, only to find the common room abandoned. He sat in front of the fire for awhile, taking a moment to enjoy being a Gryffindor, sitting in the Gryffindor tower, for the last time. A moment of melancholy almost washed over him. There were so many hidden passages left to explore, so many pranks left to play. But then Sirius thought about how there was a whole world of hidden passages and pranks waiting for him outside the Hogwarts walls and the melancholy transformed itself into a small pang of nostalgia.
Nostalgia for everything except the homework, that is.
Remus came down then and they began a game of exploding snap. James entered through the portal hole about half way through the game, looking slightly dazed with a huge smile splitting his face. He endured Remus' and Sirius' good-natured ribbing with hardly a word in reply, then headed up to the boys' tower to pack his own trunk, ignoring the warning they shouted after him about Peter's mood.
Remus and Sirius went back to their game, snickering slightly when a few thumps, followed by James' pained voice, floated down the stairs. Peter could really be mean when he wanted.
A few hours later they found themselves, minus Remus, fighting for a cabin in the Hogwarts Express. Remus was sitting with the other Prefects up front, going over monitor duty for the ride back to London, but had promised he would meet up with them later. Unfortunately, a group of sixth years had decided that the era of the Marauders was over and had taken up residence in the cabin that had, undisputedly for three years, belonged by common knowledge to James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius.
Remus had shown up just as things began to get heated and ever so politely reminded the uppity sixth years that he was officially a prefect until the train arrived at King's Crossing. And as such, he could take away as many points as necessary until the boys moved. Not to mention, it didn't matter to him which house won the Cup next year, since he would no longer be a Hogwarts student.
With many grumbles and complaints and death-glares, the sixth years gave up the cabin. Sirius smiled; it was nice to know you were still the boss, even if only for a few more hours. The ride passed quickly, and before they knew it, they were saying their (almost) tearful goodbyes at Platform 9 ¾, promising they would owl and visit as soon as possible.
After Peter and Remus had left with their parents, Sirius and James stood facing each other. Mr. and Mrs. Potter waited by the exit, James' luggage in hand.
"Well," Sirius finally said, to break the silence. "This is it, I suppose."
"Yeah," James agreed, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I guess."
"Well, take care then, mate." Sirius gave what he hoped was something approaching his normal shit-eating grin, though he was fairly certain it was nothing close. It was hard to be carefree when there was a cannonball in the pit of your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to grab onto your best friend and never let go.
"You too." James nodded, turning around stiffly.
Sirius picked up his trunk as James began to walk to where his parents waited. He tried to look busy shifting through his trunk's contents to make sure nothing was missing, not wanting to dog James' heels' on the way out.
James turned around half way to the exit. 'You know, Sirius, you can always…"
"Thanks," Sirius said, cutting him off. "But really, I can't." He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. "You've been great the last two years. I can't thank you enough for taking me in. But I've got to do this on my own now."
Mr. and Mrs. Potter both nodded at his words, an expression Sirius couldn't identify on their faces.
Sirius was rather startled to feel arms wrap around him from behind. He stiffened for a moment, then realized it was only James.
"If you need anything, anything at all…" James spoke quietly, as though afraid his parents would hear.
Sirius reached up and squeezed James' arm. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I've got a place to stay, a job. I'm all set."
"Right, then." James let him go and stepped away. He seemed almost embarrassed by his show of affection. "Well, see you, then."
"You'll owl me as soon as you hear from the Auror Academy, right?" Sirius asked.
"Of course! Same with you."
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, giving a lazy wave with his free hand. "See you then."
"Later." James returned the wave as he stepped through the portal to King's Crossing with his parents, leaving Sirius alone with his thoughts. It only took him a few moments to realize those thoughts weren't very good company. With a sigh he shouldered his trunk and headed out to the curb to hail a cab.
The first summer Sirius lived in a place without air conditioning would, of course, be the hottest bloody summer on record. Not two weeks after he'd arranged a job at The Cursing Pig, complete with room and board and enough cash to scrape together a meager savings, London had begun to boil under an unrelentless sun. According to the newspapers people were dropping dead from heat exhaustion left and right, and Sirius wouldn't be surprised if he were next.
Still, there were bills to pay and stomachs to feed. Somachs, because as Mrs. Potter had said, Sirius had to have more than one to fit all the food he managed to consume. Finances in mind, Sirius did his best to keep the grumbling to the minimum and customer satisfaction to the maximum. The tips were all his, after all.
Not that the crowd at the Cursing Pig was a generally high-tipping sort. It was more a hole-in-the-wall than the honest-to-goodness English pub the owner Will tried to make it out to be. A few hanging bulbs on chains, a lop-sided pool table, three mismatched booths, and the bar itself were all the unusual components that made up the Cursing Pig. Fitting twenty people in the place would have been a challenge. Sirius had a strong suspicion Will made more money renting out the upstairs apartments on an hourly basis than he made from the bar itself.
From the outset, the only good thing about bartending for Will was the free room above the bar. By the end of the first week of the heat wave, even that prop had lost its appeal and Sirius began to count the weeks until he could afford something better. Something with air conditioning. Or at least with windows that opened onto something other than a deadly cloud of smog. By the second week of the heat wave, he had fixed himself a routine just to make it through the day alive.
Out of bed at five in the afternoon, a cold shower under the questionably yellow water (make sure to not swallow any), then drag himself downstairs to work where he popped a constant supply of slightly-less questionable ice cubes as the hours passed. Trudge back upstairs at six am, and collapse naked on the bare mattress to sleep his way through the hottest part of the day. At times it got to the point that if he could have crawled out of his own skin to be any cooler, he would have done so gratefully.
He thought his luck was turning when he discovered an ancient fan stashed behind a pile of old Daily Teleposts and sacrificed more than a little bit of skin off his hands to dig it out and haul it up the stairs. Only to short out the entire building as soon as he plugged the thing in. Will hadn't been happy about that, and Sirius had found himself scrubbing the toilets for the next week and a half.
The welcome break in this monotony came late one Tuesday morning. Sirius was lying face down on his mattress as usual, windows wide open in an attempt to get some sort of air despite the stench of factory fumes and car exhaust that filled the apartment. When the scratching started, he groaned a bit and waved vaguely in the direction of the window, hoping the post owl could read his mind and would just leave his mail on the floor until it was cool enough that Sirius could work up the energy to move. The scratching just got more frantic, however, and Sirius cursed the fact that the post office seemed to have trained their owls with manners, of all things, even as he hauled himself up off the bed.
A dusty brown owl was flapping impatiently just outside the open window. There were some claw marks in the flaking paint on the windowsill where the owl had been scratching to get his attention and Sirius groaned. Will would nail him with that when it came to his cleaning deposit.
The bird lit off as soon as Sirius grabbed the two letters it was delivering out of its claws, feathers ruffled in agitation. From the way it shook its head in what Sirius could only guess was the owl version of a sneeze, he guessed the factory smoke was getting to it. Too bad his own animagus form wasn't an owl; he'd be more than willing to work for mice if it meant he didn't have to constantly breathe this poison.
He glanced down at the letters in his hand and stopped. One was from James, Sirius' name and address hastily scrawled in his best friend's messy handwriting. The other…
The other bore the official seal of the Auror training academy. It had finally come. And that meant the letter from James contained the other boy's answer.
Sirius sat for a few moments trying to decide which to open first. If James hadn't gotten in, Sirius didn't care one way or another about his own reply. It was their dream, together, to be the best Auror team the wizarding world had ever seen. Sirius didn't want to work with anyone else.
At last, Sirius tore open the envelope from the Auror academy. There was only one sheet of paper inside, printed in the same neat, infuriatingly unrevealing handwriting.
"Dear Mr. Black,
As you well know, the Auror's Academy is a rigorous training course designed to prepare cadets for the very real mental and physical challenges that face the defenders of Wizarding Law and Order on a daily basis."
Sirius scanned nearly a full page of print praising the honor and history of the academy and the Aurors it produced. Until…aha!
"In light of your academic and athletic achievements throughout the course of your Hogwarts career, the Auror Academy is pleased to offer you a place in the Academy class of 1978-79."
"Yes!" Sirius howled, jumping into the air and doing a little victory dance despite the heat until Will started pounding on the wall for him to shut it.
Sirius reached for James' letter next, barely able to breathe through the butterflies in his stomach. James letter was thankfully simple. Sirius didn't think he could have stood another page-long dissertation.
"Hey, mate!
I'm in. How bout you? Owl me.
GeneralPotter"
Sirius grinned happily, flopping back on the bed, ideas already swirling in his head. They were in. They'd both made it. And now, nothing could stop them.
The cards are moving easily. I smile to myself, moving a black five to a red six and uncovering an ace. On a roll, with no end in sight. This muggle game isn't so hard after all.
A/N: Part 1, finally finished! This was originally all supposed to be one chapter. Hm…didn't work out like that, did it? I may put it all into one chapter eventually. The little monologues at the beginning of ch. 1 and the end of this chapter are the actual story. The rest is just filler (all 12,000 words of it!). Once I move onto part two, I'll see how I feel about adding in all the little monologues, like I did with part 1.
Thanks to Yamineko Byousai for reviewing!
Up next: Auror training. What were James and Sirius thinking?