A month after returning from Hogwarts for the last time, Sirius moved into a flat in Diagon Alley. He had purchased it with an inheritance from his Uncle Alphard, who had died four months earlier. It was exactly the way it had when he bought it those months ago; sitting there unfurnished at the far end of the street between a junk shop and a rather chatty elderly florist's shop.
"Makes you feel like an adult, doesn't it?" Remus chuckled; flicking his wand and sending boxes neatly up the stairs.
Sirius didn't say anything. He just nodded and started helping with the boxes. Remus, who hadn't been able find a landlord willing to take in a werewolf, would be rooming with Sirius for awhile. James, who was still living at his childhood home for the time being, had offered Remus space there. However, as much as Remus adored James and Lily, he really didn't want to be living with a newly-engaged couple. James had protested; Lily did have her own flat in London and was beginning Healer training in a week. Still, Remus knew that Lily's flat would probably be empty most nights. He wondered why she had leased it in the first place.
The two friends climbed the stairs following their boxes and Sirius muttered the password. The flat was very simple; a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a loo. It was the kind of basic room that Sirius was not used to. He'd spent all of his life living a life of wealth. He'd spent his early childhood in the Black family home; a huge, drafty, and dank monstrosity that never-the-less contained only the best of everything and an army of house elves. After that he'd lived in the splendor of Hogwarts and its four-poster, thick-quilted beds. His breaks had been spent at the Potter's massive estate in Godric's Hollow complete with huge lawn and three separate gardens. This barely four-roomed place seemed claustrophobic to him. Sharing it with Remus would make it even worse. Plus, his cooking was awful.
Remus was rather more comfortable in the place. It was basic, yes, but clean and there was a good amount of that dull British sunlight flowing in. He was not quite as accustomed to luxury as his friend; growing up in a modest home with a muggle mother and a father working a low-paying job at the ministry.
Sirius took a big breath as he looked around the place. It took about ten seconds, but his eyes lingered on a spot next to the large window flooded with soft light. He could perfectly picture Dorcas sitting there on the floor; spreading papers out all around her, turning to smirk at him. Sirius shook his head hard to get her out of his head. He had to stop thinking about her. He couldn't wait until he and James started up at the station next week.
"What's with all the muggles?" Sirius asked when he met James in Hartfield Road in Wimbledon.
James shrugged. "Mum says it's always like this in July."
A man about James' height with a mop of thick curly hair and wearing awfully short white shorts suddenly exited a bar screaming something about a broken racquet and stupid line calls. He was obviously American. James and Sirius watched as the volatile young man stormed off, yelling, "You can't be serious!"
"They get crazier all the time," Sirius muttered.
James laughed. "Come on, its right over here."
They passed the Prince of Wales Pub and a few shops, basking in the humid warmth of the summer.
Sirius leaned towards James conspiratorially, "So, what do you think? Do you think we can wrangle up more members?"
"I hope so," James whispered; looking around. "It seems rather impossible for just the fifteen of us to do much, really."
The two friends were referring to their first Order of the Phoenix meeting two weeks earlier. The fledgling group consisted mainly of Dumbledore's prized students from previous years and a few Aurors brought in by Moody. Their goal right now was simply to garner more members.
In between a second hand bookshop and some sort of club, James ducked down an alleyway. Sirius followed him and soon they reached a sort of large rectangular trash bin.
"Help me," James said, as he began to push the bin. Sirius helped him by pulling. When they had moved it far enough, James leaned down and tapped the ground twice with his wand. A trap door suddenly appeared. He kicked it down; revealing a set of stairs. Then he motioned for Sirius to follow. They descended the staircase and Sirius noticed that portraits of the stars of the network lined the walls. Aphrodite Jones, Welby Fenton, Desdemona and her Dugbogs, and the Megini twins smiled back at him.
"This is wicked," Sirius muttered. "We get to tell these people what to do."
"It's not quite that simple," James glanced warily at Medea Williams' scowl as they stepped off the stairs into a reception area.
A smiling witch with curled blonde hair and long, manicured nails sat at a desk. "Welcome, Mr. Potter," she said. "I suppose this is Mr. Black."
James nodded; exchanging excited glances with Sirius as she called them both Mr. "Yes, Kendra. This is Sirius Black."
"Nice to meet you," she smiled at him.
"You too," Sirius nodded. He couldn't help a quick glance at her chest, but immediately after checking her out he felt sick to his stomach.
"Mr. Sherman is waiting to see the two of you," she gestured to a door behind her. "Forth door on the right. Go on in."
"Thank you Kendra," James said.
Sirius nodded again.
They entered a long corridor with frosted glass doors on either side. In one room, a black-haired witch with a face for the radio was singing croakily for a skeptical-looking man in a pair of leather trousers. A red light was blinking on the side of another. Ulric Sherman's office was marked by the gold letters spelled out over the frosted glass.
"Head of Magical Programming," Sirius read.
"Come on," James muttered; pushing open the door. They met another witch at a desk; this one older and named Rhonda. She told them to go straight in. Another door, this one solid, led to a large office covered in old photographs of former Wizarding Wireless stars. Almost all of them contained lengthy dedications and showy signatures. The man who had just turned off a sort of intercom was in a few of the pictures. Ulrich Sherman had the look of a man who, though rather old, was still young at heart. His gray hair was cropped close to his head and he wore small circular spectacles and a garish yellow jacket. In his ear was the flash of an earring. He smiled as the two entered; revealing a large gap between his two front teeth.
"James," he stood and shook his hand. "Congratulations on the engagement. Getting a job and getting married in the same year? What a responsible bloke you've turned out to be."
James smiled. "Well, I'm not sure about that, Sherman. This is Sirius Black."
Sherman took Sirius' hand and shook it hard. "Nice to meet you. Glad to see you made it through that gaggle of muggles. It's worse every year."
Sirius smiled. "Nice to meet you, Sir."
Sherman laughed out loud; his eyes creasing. "Don't call me Sir, you're my boss now, aren't you?"
Sirius shrugged. "I guess I am."
"Right," Sherman clapped a hand on Sirius' shoulder, still chuckling. "So, shall I show you around then?"
James and Sirius both nodded furiously.
"Alright then," he said, "Come along." He chuckled, "sir…honestly…"
They entered the corridor and Sherman led them back to the door with the red light.
"This is the production booth," he said. "Looks like the Megini Twins are in the middle of a song. The two technicians there are Yvonne and Evander, they run most of the sessions. Sometimes Dowling comes in, but that's rare. Basically the shows go on in there and the technicians send the music through to the switchboards."
"The switchboards?" Sirius asked.
"Right there," he pointed across the hall to a long room visible through a glass window. A long line of witches and wizards were sitting at desks each with their own lightbulb. They flicked their wands each time a light went on or off. "They send the feed to the wireless receivers. When the light goes off, they pull it."
"Rather dull job," James said.
"Unbelievably dull, we're working on a different technique at the moment" Sherman nodded. He pointed to the door where the witch had been auditioning earlier. "That's Patrick Hayes' office. He handles auditions and new talent. Of course, you get to make the final decisions now."
Sirius and James grinned at each other.
"Your offices are at the end of the hall. I'm sure Paula and Dione are waiting to meet you."
"Paula and Dione?" Sirius asked.
Sherman winked. "Secretaries. Pretty ones too. Of course," he clapped a hand on James' shoulder. "Potter here will have to abstain."
James looked a bit embarrassed at Sherman's suggestion and Sirius smirked weakly
"You are free, aren't you Black?" Sherman elbowed him lightly.
Sirius glowered a little, but nodded.
"Well," he smirked again. "Go to it then. There are reports and recordings for you to review."
They both sighed; a little overwhelmed by their new positions.
"We own this," Sirius said; a smile creeping over his face.
James smiled. "I know. Wicked, isn't it?"
Gwen was staying in a small village just north of Siena, Italy with the rest of her family. They had rented a large villa in the country; large enough to hold eight people rather comfortably. Remus had arrived mid-morning by floo powder. He was not nearly advanced enough to attempt apparating all the way from London. When he had arrived the heat had hit him hard. Gwen was waiting for him in a wooden chair; lounging in a lime green bikini and a pair of blue shorts.
"Hot enough for you," she laughed.
Remus stepped out of the fire and immediately began fanning himself with his hand furiously. "It's not England."
Gwen stood and embraced her friend. Remus was oddly aware of her lack of clothing as his bare arms wrapped around her freshly-tanned back.
"It's good to see you," she said; releasing him. "Why don't you go change?" She motioned to a pair of double doors leading into another room. "I thought we could go swimming."
Remus instinctively crossed his arms across his chest. "Swimming?"
"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically. "There's a gorgeous pool out there." She gestured to the wall on her left. It was covered with windows through which the bright Italian sunlight was streaming. Remus had wondered why it was so bright in this dark blue room. The blue-green water of a swimming pool was visible just beyond the yellowed stucco patio and its columns dripping with the brilliant pink of bougainvillea. Terra cotta pots filled with red begonias surrounded the water. Beyond it, the sun-scorched Tuscan hills sloped gently downward into a dark green grove of olive trees.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she smirked at Remus' eyes.
He turned back to her, arms still crossed, and nodded smally. "Why don't you go Gwen? I don't really like swimming much. I'll go sit out there with you."
She frowned slightly. "Come on Remus, it'll be fun. Plus, it's far too hot to just sit out there in the sun."
Remus squirmed; trying to find a way out of this situation. Finally, he said. "Give me a second. I'll meet you out there."
Gwen seemed rather pleased at this answer and nodded; smiling. "Alright, but hurry up."
He watched as she ran to the double glass doors leading to the patio, flung them open and sprinted to the pool. She wriggled out of her shorts and dove head first into the pool. She threw her head back as she emerged from the water; the slick golden curtain of her hair catching the intense Italian sun and almost blinding him. She turned to face the house.
"Hurry up," she yelled; smiling.
A lopsided grin covered his face and he walked into a small bedroom just off the main room. He took a huge breath. What was he going to do? Nervously, Remus changed into the blue swim trunks he had conjured; looking down at his rather pale British legs. It wasn't the color he focused on, however. It was the angry red and pink scars that crisscrossed across his shins and his knees. Even more reticently, he pulled his tee-shirt off. The minute he caught a glimpse of the countless scratch marks permanently etched in the surface of his skin, he pulled it back on. He seriously considered pulling his trousers back on before he went back out to the pool. But if it was this hot in the house, he couldn't imagine how hot it was outside. He took a series of huge breaths, sitting on the bed and wringing his hands in deep thought. She would ask about the scars. He wanted to tell her. He really did; but who knew how she would react.
Feeling as though he might vomit from the nervousness, Remus exited the room and passed through the double doors; shielding his eyes from the bright sunshine. Gwen saw him coming and popped out from under the water to watch him.
"Get in," she screamed. She was literally glowing under the sun. Remus walked very slowly towards the pool. He was still too far away for her to see the scars on his legs. Quickly, before she could see them clearly, he sat down and submerged his legs in the cool water. The contrasting temperatures on his body felt divine. He sat stiffly by the edge of the water as she did the breaststroke towards him; grinning the whole way.
"Remus," she laughed; standing up in the shallow end; the water reaching her waist. "Get all the way in."
He shook his head. "I'm alright here."
"Don't be daft," her voice danced along with the ripples in the pool. "It's amazing in here."
"I'm fine Gwen," he crossed his arms again. "Really, I'm good."
"Get in the pool, Remus," she said insistently; cocking her head. The smile was still plastered on her face.
"Swim," he said, motioning with a hand to the other end of the pool. "We can talk with you in there and me out here. It's fine."
Gwen obviously didn't think it was fine because when Remus stuck his arm out, she reached up and grabbed it; yanking it hard and pulling him into the pool next to her.
He immediately scrambled to the edge of the pool; trying to pull himself out.
She laughed. "What are you doing? Are you allergic to water?" She grabbed his upper arm; preventing him from exiting the pool. "Come on Remus, take off your shirt and swim with me."
He stood still; his body tightly clenched. She obviously felt the tension because she let go of his arm. He didn't climb out of the pool, but instead stood completely still
"Are you embarrassed?" she finally asked; her voice losing a bit of the laughter and dropping in pitch. "Remus, its fine. I'm sure. Look at me," she spread out her arms and looked down at her boyish figure. "I look like a 12-year-old boy."
He laughed slightly. "No you don't," he said; turning back to her.
"Come on Remus," she pleaded. "I promise you'll thank me later."
Remus swallowed hard. "You won't ask about it?"
She looked a little confused, but shook her head. "No."
Remus took another deep breath and very slowly pulled his somewhat wet tee-shirt off. Gwen's blue eyes drifted down to his injured chest and flickered with concern briefly. But a second afterwards, she looked back up to Remus and smiled broadly.
"Come on," she said cheekily. "I'll race you to the other end."