Title: Not Singular Except in Syllable
Author: Dana
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Important moments in each of the marauders lives. Written for the 2011 LilyJames_Fest fic exchange for herbeautifulie for her prompt: Piglet: Pooh, how do you spell love? Pooh: You don't spell it, you feel it.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations recognizable from cannon are created and owned by J.K. Rowling, and various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks go to the wonderful Mary for being a rockstar beta. I own none of the characters here, not even the ones mentioned in the twisted Black family tree. The Potters might not be cannon compliant, but I like to think they were. Please leave your thoughts, criticisms, and comments by hitting that review button below, or check out the original posting and all the other great Lily/James Fest submissions at LilyJames_Fest. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!
Piglet: Pooh, how do you spell love?
Pooh: You don't spell it, you feel it.
Not ten minutes after the arrival of the Potters, and already the boy's tie was askew, there was a mysterious smudge of something on his trousers,and his hair was a complete mess (though from what Sirius had glimpsed of him earlier it hadn't been much better to begin with).
Sirius didn't believe in first impressions, but suffice it to say his first glimpse of James Potter left him feeling distinctly unimpressed.
Watching the irritated mother fuss over Potter's tie made a complicated mix of emotions swirl in Sirius' stomach. None of which he wanted to look at too closely, all of which only served to irritate him further.
Potter brushed aside his mother's hands with a look of annoyance. The boy was far too used to getting his way, and Sirius never gave anyone their way unless it corresponded with his own. Not to mention Potter was wearing actual gold buttons on his dress robes. Who else but a complete pillock did that?
Sirius rolled his eyes and retreated further into Black Manor as the Potter boy loudly declared his disapproval of how dim the lighting was to his parents.
"Don't they have lamps? Aren't we supposed to have advanced from the nineteenth century? This is the twentieth century, people. Please, keep up!"
"Is that him, then?" Regulus had sidled up to Sirius' side, dodging a couple of gossiping matrons. No need to wonder what-or who- they were suddenly whispering about.
The Potters had always been somewhat of an anomaly to this particular pureblood set. Though they never openly declared themselves muggle lovers, they hadn't exactly spoken against them either, always remaining circumspect. They were either the most decorous of pureblood families, or excellent politicians.
"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Sirius responded wryly, watching as the disheveled Potter boy snatched up a handful of delicate finger foods from the nearest house elf's serving tray, popping one into his mouth, and slipping the rest into his pocket.
Regulus scoffed and shook his head. "Why were they even invited? I thought the Potters were supposed to be blood traitors. No better than the Weasleys." He sneered, an echo of their family's prejudices stamped onto his small face.
Sirius gave him a warning look as the family in question passed through the entrance hall and swept by them into the parlor. When they'd disappeared, he murmured "It's never really been proven, and you know how Mother feels about alienating any pureblood family. Especially ones like the Potters."
He straightened as their parents passed them, his tie feeling uncomfortably tight. Only when he could no longer feel his mother's presence itching between his shoulder blades did he resume. "Mrs. Potter also happens to be Grandfather Pollux's sister, so you know Grandmother Irma had to invite them. The woman's desperate to have some form of entertainment."
Apparently, living in Scotland in social exile with her insane sister-in-law had given Grandmother Irma far too much time on her hands. And so this soiree was in honor of Beltane, which was really just a nice way of saying it was an opportunity to gather around and bemoan the state of other pureblood families.
Sirius himself wasn't really sure what a regular Beltane celebration was suppose to entail, but he was certain it had something to do with a large pole representing a giant willy. When he tried telling this to Mother he received one of her blistering lectures (literally) and was promptly sent to bed without dinner.
"I don't blame her. What in Merlin's bollocks is there to do in Scotland?"
"There's sheep, I suppose. But you'd know about that better than me, wouldn't you, Regulus?"
His brother grimaced. "It could've been you, you know. Just because both our names have been in the family forever, I don't see why I had to have been named after the nutter who did things to sheep. It could easily have been you." Sirius sniggered as his brother went for the perfect sulk, arms crossed and scowling.
The Potter boy had vanished from his spot near the house elf, leaving behind only a few tidbits on the serving tray. Sirius glanced around just in time to watch the back of the other boy's head disappear into a darkened doorway. He stared after him curiously, his feet already propelling him forward, and he hissed for his brother to wait for him a moment as he started after Potter.
Regulus straightened, frowning as he called out. "Where are you going?"
Sirius continued on without hearing him.
He entered an unlit hallway, a thudding sound drawing him towards the other end. As he neared the last door his foot came down on a small, hard object, drawing his gaze. A gold button. He reached down to pluck it off the ground and held it up to catch the shine of any wayward light. It glinted in his hand, polished and perfect; a speck of brightness that didn't belong in the middle of dreary Black Manor.
Sirius pocketed the button and eyed the slightly ajar door suspiciously. It could only be Potter inside but a moment's uncertainty gave Sirius pause. Fervently hoping he was not interrupting someone removing their robes or, Merlin save him, more than one person taking off their clothes, he slowly inched the door open.
Preparing to bolt in the opposite direction if need be, he poked his head into what looked like a large and dusty library. Someone had placed a lit candle on the edge of a desk at the far end of the room, though it did little to provide illumination. Sirius entered cautiously, moving towards the candle as he looked around for the other boy. A thump sounded from behind him and he whirled around to see a book sail through the air to join a small but rapidly growing pile of other books.
"Oi!" Sirius called, as he watched another book join the pile.
A familiar head of messy hair peeked out at him from behind the bookshelf as the owner squinted at him. "Hullo, do I know you?"
Sirius never bothered to answer stupid questions and he wasn't about to start now. "What are you doing?"
Potter blinked at him and looked at the book in his hand as if noticing it for the first time. "This? Isn't it obvious? I'm throwing books over my shoulder." He gave Sirius a sharp look. "Rather stupid question to ask, isn't it?"
Sirius brushed off his rising aggravation. "But why are you tossing them over your shoulder? Are you having some sort of fit?" Sirius hoped not, it wouldn't do to be caught in a room with a crazy person. "Is this a desperate cry for attention?" Though, considering the madness of the Black family tree, he supposed he'd be in good company.
Potter gave him an odd look, which was hard to pull off, as he was still squinting. "No," he said slowly, as though he were the one trapped with a madman. "I'm looking for hidden passageways, like in the stories."
"What in Merlin's beard do hidden passageways have to do with throwing books?" Sirius demanded, taking in Potter's messy appearance. Merlin and Agrippa, the boy had somehow lost his robes and his shirt was missing several buttons now. Sirius' hand went to the pocket he'd slipped the gold button in, but reconsidered taking it out as he continued. "And you can't just go prancing around without your clothes on. This is a public gathering. Do the people a service and keep yourself clothed."
Potter's expression turned puzzled. "I'm hardly naked, am I?" He glanced down and then seemed to disregard his own questions as he continued, not waiting for a response. "Anyway, I thought this was a Beltane celebration. Isn't there suppose to be some sort of prancing around with poles or something?"
"It's only one pole."
"Why a pole at all? Why can't people prance around broomsticks? And then the last person prancing wins the broom."
"Because, you barmpot, the pole is supposed to be in honor of giant willies everywhere."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I still like the broom idea better."
They grinned at each other and Sirius joined him in front of the bookshelf. "So, why were you leaving buttons everywhere in the hall?"
"Not everywhere, just here and there. I didn't have any bread so I'm using buttons in case I get lost. You know, like that one story."
Sirius shook his head as Potter continued to pull random books off the shelf, squinting at the covers and eyeing the remaining ones. "What sort of mad stories are you reading? And would you stop squinting like that, you look like you're on the toilet. It's giving me a headache."
Potter blinked and muttered morosely, "It's my glasses; I'm not wearing them."
"Well put them on, before your face gets stuck like that and I'm forced to look at it." Sirius watched as Potter reached into his dress robes and pulled out a pair of round glasses. Regarding them with much reluctance, he unfolded them gingerly.
"I'll look like a swot."
"You are a swot. Now put them on."
The glasses looked delicate but expensive; obviously the best money could buy. They fit Potter's face rather nicely, or perhaps it was he was no longer squinting that made him look better. Either way, Sirius nodded his approval.
"See? You look much better. If only you could fix your hair you might have a shot at looking half way human." Sirius turned to look at the bookshelf as Potter's hand shot into his hair. Only certain titles had been pulled, at what seemed like random intervals. "What are you doing with the books?"
"I'm looking for secret passageways. In the stories there are always secret passageways in the evil bloke's castle. And in order to get to them there's a book you have to pull from a shelf that opens up the door. It's in tons of muggle mysteries, you know."
Sirius blinked at him. "That's barmy."
Potter grinned gleefully at him. "I know, aren't muggles brilliant?" He resumed pulling books from the shelf with renewed excitement.
Sirius watched him, a troubled expression on his face. "Don't you get in trouble for doing that? Reading muggle filth?"
Potter paused and looked at him wide-eyed. "Why would I get in trouble? It's ace! We've got a whole shelf of muggle books in our library, but I convinced Mum and Dad to add an extra case of them. I hate reading anything twice and they know it, so I knew they wouldn't say no. Not that they could. Who could possibly resist me?" He gave Sirius his most charming smile, and it was so ridiculous Sirius imagined people indulged him simply for his effusiveness.
With a shake of his head, Sirius began helping him pull books off the shelves. "You know, I reckon you could give my Uncle Cygnus a run for his money in the mental department."
Though Sirius was extremely doubtful of their mission ("Why books? Why can't it be as simple as a wand combination?"), he nevertheless helped Potter pull as many suspicious looking books from the shelves around them as they could. When their search yielded nothing, they went around tapping every surface with the tips of their wands. When they had exhausted all ideas, pulled everything they could pull, and tapped everything they could tap, the two boys decided to call it quits.
They sat on the floor side by side with their backs to an empty bookshelf. Potter had pulled out a box of Bertie Botts, which he graciously shared with Sirius.
"Bugger all," he said thoughtfully, popping a bean into his mouth. "I'm disappointed. I thought for sure your mental family would have some dark passageways, maybe an evil lair or two."
Sirius snorted "It's your family, too. We're first cousins, once removed."
Potter looked at him sideways. "I reckon all purebloods are somehow related. And they're not really my family; at least not in any way that counts." Sirius was slightly alarmed to feel a pang of disappointment as Potter rooted through the beans in his hand to find one he liked. "How do you know all this stuff anyways? About who's related to whom?"
Sirius' sneer was at once pompous and bitter to match his tone. "I'm the Black heir; it's my purpose in life to know who's who."
Potter chewed thoughtfully and seemed to come to a decision. "Well, they'll never be my family, but I suppose you're okay."
Sirius busied himself with examining his own handful of beans. Potter was alright, he thought.
A soft beeping noise interrupted the quiet, and Potter scowled as he reached for his pocket and removed a pocket watch. A small light was flashing red as the beeping persisted until he pressed the button on top of the watch.
"Your parents put a leash on you?" Sirius asked incredulously.
Potter sighed as he mumbled. "They said it's because I'm always running off; safety and all that rubbish." Leashes were spelled into any object of choice and were used to keep track of young children. Usually rather pricey, they were mainly used by important political families. "Guess we're going home." He stood and Sirius stood with him. They moved rather reluctantly down the corridor, emerging into the entry hall where Charlus and Dorea Potter stood awaiting their son.
Potter turned toward Sirius and stuck out his hand. "Best party you've ever had with this old lot, I bet. We'll have to do it again, sometime. How's Hogwarts this year sound?"
Sirius smirked at him as he shook his hand. "Sounds like Hogwarts is never going to be the same again."
They grinned at each other until Potter's parents called for him. As he made his way towards them he loudly declared, "Mother, Father, I've decided to quit this place. These people are all frauds." To which, his mother exclaimed in astonishment over the state of his robes and hair. It wasn't until they turned to leave that Sirius realized that they had never even given each other their names.
Regulus slipped in next to Sirius as he watched the Potters depart. "Where were you? And why are your robes so dusty?"
Sirius absently patted at his clothes in surprise. "Are they? I hadn't noticed."
Regulus stared at him in shock. "Hadn't noticed? But you always notice! And why did you shake Potter's hand? I thought we didn't like him."
Sirius didn't answer, his fingers playing with the small gold button inside his pocket. He couldn't have said what it was he felt at that moment, and he didn't want to look at it too closely. But in later years, if he was pressed to describe it, he'd say it was a lot like love.