Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, they all belong to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter One: Stifled Laughter
Sirius took the steps up to the Order's head quarters slowly and loudly, as the soles of his worn out boots slammed down angrily. He cringed as a wall of rainwater soaked him to the bone with a splash as the Knight Bus rocketed through a puddle in order to get away from the fuming wizard. He glanced down at his new, maroon cloak, now sopping wet with dirty rainwater, and resignedly added the moment to the quickly growing list of things-gone-wrong that had happened today. He glared at the air ahead of him as if it would do a trick before he reached out a soot-covered hand and opened the tickle-me-pink colored door. The paint color had been Tonks' idea.
As he entered the foyer of the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, he let the front door slam behind him, notifying all occupants of both his entrance and his foul mood. He trudged down the hard wood floors of the hall, his feet squashing uncomfortably in his boots as he left a trail of angry puddles in his wake. His frown deepened as he heard a stifled giggle from somewhere above him, and people turned to look at him, or rather, his head, as he continued to stomp by and ignore their stares. No one said a word, and Sirius was glad. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now. Not with those… things on his head! No one would take him seriously.
He had almost reached his destination and was just reaching out to grasp the doorknob, when it opened without his assistance. Tonks herself stood in the doorway, blocking his passage nonchalantly, as if not noticing the manner of his mood.
"Moovoutheway," Sirius grumbled, not bothering to form real words.
Tonks stood there, one hand on her hip, as her green eyes took him in, and raised a thin eyebrow. "I like them, but they aren't quite… well, you, you know?" She put a hand to her chin and continued, "And you do know they clash with that new cloak, right? It's nice, by the way."
Her critiques were left unanswered as Sirius gave her a deadly, menacing glare. Silence and tension both filled the air, and onlookers were ready for a very vibrant, colorful outbreak of words on Sirius's part, and were somewhat relieved when Tonks moved aside gracefully.
"All right, all right." She waved her arms to the side, as if she were part of a game show and the door was Sirius's grand prize. She even changed from spiked, pink hair to the flowing, golden blonde that supermodels dream of for the occasion.
Sirius entered the maroon-colored bathroom without vocalizing his thanks. He slammed the door again, not taking in the new gold finishing or the textured wallpaper someone had put in recently. Instead, he gazed into the mirror silently, a scowl darkening his face. Today was not his day. His black hair was in clumps from the rainwater, still sopping wet. There were spots of mud on one cheek, and a swipe of dirt on the other, and the parts of his face he hadn't covered with his hands were black with soot that wouldn't rub off. His lips were pale and thin from the scowl he wore, and his green eyes had lost their usual humor, and were now dark and glinted dangerously as he eyed the two new additions to his head.
His attention was diverted from his head to the reflection of a portrait on the wall behind him when the auburn-haired witch featured inside it spoke. She was smiling slightly; her auburn curls bouncing as she shook her head and said, "Really, Sirius. I thought you would have had enough attention in your lifetime. I mean, did you really have to go and add the bunny ears?"
"I didn't add them," Sirius growled, his attention turning back to the two bright pink ears sprouting from the crown of his head. "I have some seventh-year scoundrels back at the Leaky Cauldron to thank for that." Sirius pulled the ears down to the sides of his head and tugged miserably, as if he believed they'd come off. "Tom tried to get them off, but he doesn't know very much magic outside of his line of work, and the little idiots ran off after putting some sort of charm on them so I, myself, can't take them off."
He glared at the mirror, as if wishing them away would work, seeing as tugging didn't. "Got a lot of stares on the Knight Bus."
The witch in the portrait huffed, annoyed, and crossed her arms. "Oh, the Knight Bus. I wish you wouldn't use that thing. You know how I don't like Terrance Knight. An idiot, he is. I fancied him a bit and he didn't have the decency to notice. You know, I saved his life once. Was a fierce battle-"
Sirius cut her off quickly, clearly in no mood for her ramblings. "Where's Lupin? I bet he can get these stupid things off…"
"He's in the second floor study," the witch sulked, glaring at her distant relative, "with a few other of your friends who don't care about my love life." She tossed her head, and turned away, facing out the side of the frame, with her lips puffed out in distain. "Just because you were never in love…"
Sirius was out the door before she could say anything else.
Sirius threw the door to the study open and let it hit the wall with a bang. Cloak still dripping and ears bent in the middle, he stood in the doorway for several seconds, agitated when no one looked up from what they were doing to appreciate his mood. Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore were tucked in a corner, each in their respective chairs, reading over parchments, or, in Ms. McGonagall's case, writing on them. Molly Weasley, used to Sirius's moods, sat in front of the redbrick fireplace, carefully knitting something orange that hadn't quite taken a shape yet. Sirius wasn't sure it ever would, based on his past experiences with her knitting. His quarry, Remus Lupin, sat in a dining chair across from the doorway, intent on beating his opponent, and Mrs. Weasley's significant other, Arthur Weasley, in an intense game of chess.
He waited several more seconds, and when no one responded, he stepped into the room, boots still making strange squishing noises under his weight, reached for the doorknob once again, and slammed the door shut behind him. And waited.
"Interesting look, Sirius," Remus commented, which was odd, seeing has he had never looked up from the chessboard. He seemed to sense his fuming friend wondering about this. "Your friend in the portrait came to warn us. Couldn't stop laughing, that one," he said with a knowing smirk, which Arthur and Dumbledore joined in on. Sirius couldn't see Molly's face, but he was positive there was one there, too. Only Minerva seemed totally involved in her work.
Sirius glared at his old friend. "Did she tell you why I have them?"
"Some kids at the Leaky Cauldron, I believe."
"Yes. Seventh years. Idiot kids… they'll never be ready for the real world when it hits them," Sirius complained, sitting down on the old, marigold colored, yet quite comfortable couch. "Sure, they'll pass all their tests with," Sirius paused, and elaborated his next two words by waving his hands and fingers in the air and faking a high-pitched voice, "'flying colors!' But when they get out into the world and are faced with the dangers and upcoming dark wizards and the oh-so dreaded rent, they'll start squirming and coming to us for help. Why should we help them, when this," he paused to point at his head, "is what they did to us?"
"Checkmate," Lupin said as his queen bashed Arthur's rook to pieces, creating a dumbfounded look on the older Weasley's face. He turned in his chair to meet Sirius's eyes. "You'd be surprised what they're capable of. They are, and will be, one of the smartest classes Hogwarts has ever turned out."
"That's just because of Hermione. She brings everyone's average grade up. And you know that," Sirius rebutted.
"Take her away, and the grade averages do go down a bit, I grant you that, but even then, this class is remarkably good," Remus said, sounding a bit impressed.
Mr. Weasley nodded his head at each point, considering and weighing the arguments, and muttering things like, "Yes, yes." And "true, so true" under his breath.
"Oh, posh. They're idiots, the lot of them."
"Now, you know that isn't true."
"Yes, it is. They go around doing this," Sirius pointed at his ears again, growing visibly more uptight, "for fun! I saw them sneaking around Madame Malkin's with creations from that new joke shop in the alley! They have no idea what the word 'responsibility' even means! They have us waiting on them hand and foot every day of their lives! 'Oh, great job Potter', 'Positively marvelous, Malfoy'," Sirius said, mimicking the teachers again as Ms. McGonagall glared from her corner. "'Just try a bit harder next time, you'll get it!' Only the 'next time' will be on their own, without us to back them up when a spell goes wrong, or the under-brewed potion tips over!"
"That's just because they haven't had a chance to live on their own! We've been nursing them forever, thinking that they can't, or won't be able to live on their own if we let them out of our grasps. But they really can. They only rebel because they're tired of being nursed. That's why this is the students' last year at Hogwarts before we let them go. Give them a chance, one single chance, and they'd be able to take fine care of themselves," Remus told Sirius, keeping a calm appearance and steady voice, quite contradictory to Sirius, who was now standing up, and throwing his hands in the air as he spoke.
His pink ears now stood on end as his temper rose, already fueled by the day's events and not ready for another disagreement. "Complete rubbish, the lot if it! They're all gits! You've lost your mind! They must be bewitching you! The Remus Lupin I know would never say such things! You know that's not true!"
"Oh, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley said, trying to butt in and calm them down.
Remus stood up, too, to be on equal footing with his friend-become-rival. "If we were to just- leave," the werewolf said, throwing his hands a bit for exclaimation, "them for a month or so, they'd be just fine. Trust me, I've worked with them. They're really quite remarkable children."
"See? You just said it! They're children," Sirius stepped forward, inches from Remus's calm face, and glared at him with the same death wish he sent Tonks earlier.
His wet, soggy cloak had left its mark on the couch, and was now dripping at a much slower pace. With the overall wetness of him, the mud on his face, and the glint in his eyes, he looked like he just got out of a fistfight in the alleyway. The way he looked up slightly at Remus, who was about three inches taller, and stood defiantly under him, despite his circumstances, he looked almost frightening. Almost. The thing that tipped the scales was the frilly pinkness of the bunny ears, which took away quite a lot from the image of fist-fighting, ex-convict madman that was otherwise present.
"And even in three months, they wouldn't be able to handle themselves. They'd probably end up killing themselves instead of the boggarts and flobbleworms and whatever else you teach them about in that school."
"Flobberworms, Sirius, and I'm sure they could even fight off a dementor if they had the chance."
"Don't even start with dementors," Sirius seethed, squinting his eyes. "You're just an immune, stupid git."
"I can't believe you've sunk so low as name-calling, Sirius," Remus said, a stone look upon his face.
"Believe it," Sirius retorted, as his robes finally stopped dripping.
The two former-marauders stood in the center of the silent room. Molly had turned around to watch the fight, as had Arthur, after he figured out what he'd done wrong in the game. Albus had watched curiously, and even Minerva had looked up from her parchment a couple of times. Now they all watched as the two old friends stood unmoving, waiting for the other to break their gaze first.
In the back of the room, Dumbledore had that familiar glint in his eyes that often reminded Remus and Sirius of their time as the Marauders of the Hogwarts school grounds.
"Minerva."
All eyes flew quickly to Dumbledore, including those of Remus and Sirius, and the two standing shifted weight nervously when they saw the look in his eyes, which sparkled behind his half-moon glasses. A small smile played humbly upon his lips as it so often did as he was forming a plan.
"Yes, headmaster?" Ms. McGonagall replied, still not quite used to these schemes of his, even after all her years of teaching under him.
"Will you please call a staff meeting in the great hall for tomorrow morning at nine, while I attend to our friend here? Oh, and would you mind contacting "Animaux Mystiques", to see how busy they are in September? You know, that newly opened school?" Dumbledore asked, and, upon seeing the look fellow teacher had, he added, "They're in France," as if it would clear up the whole business.
"No problem, sir," Ms. McGonagall said, slightly confused. "Should I expect to be seeing you at dinner?"
"No, no… I think I shall take a stroll. Still a few kinks here and there," the headmaster said rather absentmindedly as he waved his wand and muttered a few words to try to de-ear Sirius. With that, he picked up the ends of his light blue, starry cloak and walked out the door, stroking his beard and muttering to himself, "Yes, yes… that will do… that will most certainly do…"
The four people left in the room looked at each other nervously.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Sirius?" Mrs. Weasly asked. "You're going to start a whole new chapter Hogwarts, a History. And I'm not sure it will be a good one," she said, fixing him with a glare.
The other two men turned to look at Sirius, who looked down at his shoes, which were no longer wet, thanks to the headmaster. He turned his toes inward and looked up at his audience.
"Oops?"