I don't own any thing besides the characters I own. I'm an Australian teen so 70s British slang isn't my strongest point. I think I might put time and effort into this because it's sort of cathartic. I might tell you about that later down the track. The title is just a work in progress. I wanted it to be 'Sex, Drugs and Rock N Roll' but apparently summaries and titles have to be rated K. Please give me reviews and title suggestions.
CHAPTER ONE: SEX DRUGS N ROCK N ROLL
They must have smoked a pack a day. It was, after all, the seventies and not even Hogwarts seemed able to go unharmed. September, after the autumn bite of the morning subsided, was warm enough this year that some chose to spend the day outside, by the lake. It was during her third fag that Beth Allen told her best friend about her evening yesterday.
"You wouldn't even believe what Dom's like in bed. I feel like I'm still floating. Eight times this week, man. I think I understand the French calling it death."
"La petite mort," Rory Murphy said, "Doesn't he remind you a bit of a meerkat?"
"Did you just my boyfriend a meerkat?"
Rory laughed, "I don't know how else to talk about you and your uptight boyfriend's sex life. And he sort of does with the posture thing."
"Not my fault you're a virgin," Beth snorted.
"Yeah. I should probably do something about that soon. How did you ask Dom out, man?"
The pair had only been together a month tops, but it was still the longest commitment Beth had ever made. Dom was a sort of preppy Ravenclaw seventh year, a prefect, chaser and unusually good guy. Rory liked him enough, besides from the fact that he called her Aurora and took up a lot of Beth's time.
"Oh it was incredibly romantic. His friend David came up to me and said that Dom wanted to have sex with me. I responded, 'Alright,' and the rest is history."
"Do you reckon I should do that then? Proposition a random and hope for the best?"
"You might as well. We can pick someone out together," she said, quite seriously considering. Beth looked at the surrounding students before pointing one out.
"Hey, what about Remus Lupin? He's quite cute and he's mates with Dom so we could probably help you out."
Remus Lupin was a Gryffindor like Beth and Rory but two years above them, in the seventh year. He was quite sweet looking, with lots of mousy hair and a bashful but large grin. If it wasn't for his friends, he probably could have been overlooked.
That was impossible with friends like the Marauders, otherwise known as the only group in school that could get away with giving themselves a bloody club name. The group comprised of Remus; a stout boy called Peter Pettigrew; James Potter, the Gryffindor quidditch captain and Head Boy; and Sirius Black, whose life story was better known than his also-quite-well-known hair.
"Not sure he's my type. Bit squirrelly, isn't he?" Rory said looking him over. Remus was pale, average height, with light brown hair and indeterminate eye colour. While he was by no means unattractive, Rory disliked how he stood next to his friends, as if he was an inferior being.
"You're so judgmental, Rora. What about one of his mates then?"
"Well, I couldn't compete with Potter's girlfriend; Evans is beautiful but also kind of terrifying. Peter's ears sort of stick out and I don't think I would ever be able to look away. Not to mention his dumpiness. The only viable option would be Black, and he's got more baggage than me."
"Which means he'd be able to handle you. Plus he's really quite sexy and no one's saying this has to be a longterm relationship."
Rory thought about it. Beth was right, Sirius Black was sort of beautiful. High cheekbones and soft eyes, and an iconic black head of hair that tumbled to his shoulders. Rory knew lots about Black and at the same time, nothing at all. She knew that he had fallen out with his family after being sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin and had since been disowned. She knew that he was fawned over by his friends and peers and that he was a bit of a troublemaker. But she had no idea what he was like, although she assumed he was quite neurotic given the previous information.
"Do you think I could? Pull Sirius Black?"
Rory knew she was a pretty girl. She wasn't however, one of the great beauties of this world. Her nose was less than demure and her eyebrows were a little Frida Kahlo. She was afraid she would look quite plain next to Sirius, or worse, as if they were different species. She relayed this to Beth.
"That's disgusting and illegal but if anyone could pull him, it would be you."
"Well then, Beth, I think it's worth a shot."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Man, you'll never guess this," said Rory, looking astonishedly down at her copy of The Daily Prophet.
"Is it that Voldemort lad again?" Beth said loudly and spooned cereal into her mouth. The people near them turned around to look at her for a second before continuing their own conversations.
"No, but there's something about him today, I think. No- this is much cooler. Someone has developed wizarding tattoos."
"What makes them wizardy?" Beth asked.
"They have tonnes of wicked properties. You can get ones that move, oh and ones that change colour. They're working on interactive ones."
Beth's face lit up, "We're going. Right now."
"Buttttt... It's 17 and over," Rory said skimming the rest of the article.
"Why is everything fun 17 and over, Rora?"
"Cheer up- some of it's not legal at all." They laughed.
"Too right. Say- When's the new Bowie album out?" Beth asked.
"A couple of weeks, I think."
" 'There's Old Wave. There's New Wave. And then there's David Bowie,' " She quoted the new slogan. "I'm getting my mum to send it to me the second it's out. She fancies him a bit."
"Can she buy a copy for me too while she's there and I'll pay her? My parents are still rubbish with owling." Rory's parents were both muggles, a book publisher and a journalist respectively. Rory adored her parents but they had never quite understood the wizarding world. Both of Beth's parents were half-bloods so she had her feet in both worlds from the beginning.
"You can just share my copy, don't bother. Are we going to the quidditch game on Saturday? Dom wants me to go but I wouldn't know who to cheer for."
"You cheer for Gryffindor, of course," said someone behind them. They turned around to see James Potter winking. "Dom's a decent bloke but you can't betray us on the first game of the year."
"I guess you're right," Beth giggled. "We might watch you tremble under pressure after all, Potter."
Potter gave her a strange look and kept walking.
Rory looked down at her yogurt. Beth was her favourite person when they were alone, but had a strange double personality that sometimes appeared in front of other people. She was a person people either loved or hated, depending on whether they understood her. Sure, she was brash, confrontational and impulsive but she was also one of the kindest people that Rory knew. You grew to admire the energy of her brashness, the swagger in her confrontation, the reckless abandon in her impulsivity. Rory was almost glad that few people saw Beth correctly, in fear she could be left a best friend short.
Feeling an impromptu rush of love for her best mate, Rory wrapped her arm around Beth and grinned. "Race you to transfig."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Gryffindor loved quidditch almost as much as Gryffindor loved parties and so after an admittedly close defeat of Ravenclaw, both were celebrated in the common room. Rory, who disliked the common but loved alcohol, was enjoying herself quite a bit. They were playing decent music for once and Beth was feeding her drinks as they chatted,
"Did you hear Marlene's got a new boyfriend? I think it's that Hufflepuff, Aubrey."
They spotted the girl dancing with a tall brunet.
"Yeah that must be him. Strange, I thought she fancied Black," Rory said.
"Speaking of Black. When are you going to pluck up the balls to talk to him?"
"Tonight," Rory said, before backtracking. "Or another night- I have all the time in the world."
"Just do it," Beth said, "He's all alone. I need to go and comfort Dom about the loss, anyway. I think he's taking it... hard," she smirked.
Rory looked around. Sirius, by some act of fortune (or possibly lack thereof) was sitting alone on one of the Gryffindor sofas, looking out into the party's makeshift dance floor. Rory watched for a second. In some leap of faith or tipsiness, she walked over to him.
"Black," Rory stated, sitting beside him on the sofa.
"Murphy, right? Have we met before?" Sirius said, half turning towards her but keeping his focus on the crowd."
"Only in my dreams," made Black give her his full attention. She coughed,"I meant- um.. probably? We're in the same house."
She knew very well that they hadn't actually been introduced and maybe he did too, because he gave a little amused smile, leaning back into the sofa.
"So Murphy, what is it?"
"I just hate to see anyone alone after such a victory. Beautiful work out there with the bludgers. Couldn't've done it better myself."
"Oh really- do you beat any?"
He seemed to have realised what he said when he saw the grin on her face. She crossed one leg on top of the other.
"Not as much as you, I'd wager."
"Gotta practice so we can really flog the other houses, don't I?"
"Say, does Potter watch over this too? Whip you into shape?"
"Murphy, if you're making an insinuation that my best mate is some sort of dominatrix, then-"
"Then what?" Rory laughed.
Sirius looked at her for a few seconds, grinned, and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Then I think we're going to be good friends."
She let that sink in before exclaiming,
"Sirius Black- that was almost sweet!"
"It helps that you have nice breasts."
They both fell into laughter. Sometimes, for whatever reason, strangers know each other far better than they should. Maybe it was science or alcohol or maybe it was magic but while they laughed, they had been friends for longer than just five minutes, sitting close on the small sofa with the party at a standstill.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
"I swear, Beth, it's like we have the same sense of humour! He's much sharper then he looks, Black is. And Merlin, those eyes. He's a little bit incredible. We just talked so easily about everything. And he said we were going to be good mates, Beth. I wonder if he'll talk to me today."
Beth looked over Rory and grinned, "You sound like you're in love with the bloke already, Rora."
If some part of Aurora Murphy recognised the lovely tightening in her chest, the whirling in the bottom of her stomach, it didn't speak up. Instead she gave a small smile and said,
"No, I don't think we'll be more than mates. I mean, flirting with him was too easy for it to have meant anything. Bloody hell, do you think Flitwick will ask for our essays? I haven't even started."
They had reached the charms room. Sure enough, as they took their places, Flitwick started walking around the room asking for their essays on cheering charms. Beth took out her crumpled piece of parchment and handed it to the professor. He collected it and put out his hand for Rory's.
"I'm so sorry professor but I haven't completed mine yet. I just found it too confusing to write about happiness when my life is only full of misery and despair, sir."
"Well then, we should hope Miss Allen is proficient in her cheering charms. You'll need one for your detention. See me after class, Miss Murphy."
Rory gave a resigned groan and sunk back in her chair. Flitwick soon reached the front of the class before beginning a familiar speech,
"As you all know, this year is OWLs year. Slacking off not be tolerated this year, and that's not for us teachers' sake. It makes very little difference to me whether or not you study hard and do your best this year, but I should hope you realise the difference it will make to you. These scores will of course determine what NEWTs you can take..."
Having heard these same words from every professor in the past few weeks, Rory zoned out, her mind wandering to her detention and then people who frequent detention and then, of course, to Sirius Black. She hadn't really seen him since their conversation on Saturday night. She found herself craving an interaction with him much like a cigarette. It felt like an irritation more than a hunger, like something was definitely not right and that made her sort of anxious, but the link between the craving and Black didn't seem direct in her mind. She wondered what it would be like, to be with him, in all senses of the phrase. Not a hunger, more a feeling of being on edge. A difficulty in linking the obvious.
Charms, then potions, maybe runes at some point. Not a bad day, Rory thought. But still, this ball of nervous energy. Suddenly the charms room felt very small and very hot. She thought about the muggle psychiatrist her parents had made her see in the holidays. Breathe, she told herself. Fight, not flight. Would it be possible to have a smoke before potions? How much longer of charms is there?
She looked over at Beth and found her mouthing, Are you alright?
Fine, she mouthed back. You are not your depression, her psychiatrist said somewhere. Still, without an obvious trigger it was hard to get back in control. A cigarette after class, she told herself, like a mantra. A cigarette, and then potions and then maybe runes. Easy. And suddenly class was over.
"Miss Murphy, can we speak?" Professor Flitwick called. Rory walked to the front of the class. "Wednesday evening, you will arrive here at seven for your detention. And have the essay to me soon, Aurora. Thank you."
Rory was already walking to the door. A cigarette now before potions class.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Wednesday evening came quickly and without anticipation. Since Rory wasn't the type of person to ever be late to anything, at 6:55 she walked and knocked on the door of the charms room. Professor Flitwick came to the door and welcomed her in,
"Ah Miss Murphy, thank you for being on time. When your partner arrives I'll be giving you some first year papers to mark, if that's alright. The kids haven't been here for long so go fairly easy on them, we can let some of the smaller errors slide."
Rory found a seat in the middle of the room, "Sure, sir."
They waited there a few minutes before another knock on the door was heard.
"Ah good, sometimes he doesn't show up," Flitwick said amusedly.
He opened the door to one Sirius Black. Sirius walked straight past Flitwick without acknowledgment, stopping to exclaim,
"Murphy! My one, true love."
Rory grinned up at him, pulling up a seat beside her.
"So you two are already acquainted. Aurora, make sure Black is doing something productive. Please. I'll be back in two hours and expect these all marked," the professor said, placing a hefty pile of papers on their table.
"Sir yes sir," replied Black.
Professor Flitwick raised his eyebrows at the boy and left the room.
"So Rory, what did you do to land in here?"
Rory looked at him with a straight face, "Decked ten slytherins, the usual."
Black let out a bark of a laugh, "You're not serious."
"No," Rory smiled, "You are. I didn't do an essay for Flitwick. You?"
"May have hexed Bertram Aubrey's head to suit his personality."
"Oh is that Mckinnon's new boyfriend?"
Rory took in the dark look on Sirius's face,
"So it seems."
Eager to change the subject, Rory picked up a paper. "Look at this, poor firstie can't even spell his own name right."
Sirius took the paper from her hands and laughed, " I don't know, maybe his name really is Xenophilius. What bad luck though."
"I'll be sure to try to identify him in the great hall. Oh look at this one..."
And so the evening went on. The two got through the papers making awful jokes at both the students' and each other's expenses.
"But seriously," Rory said, "I don't know why more wizards don't do it. Muggle heroin would be very easy to cook with magic, I could start a business."
"As long as I can join, I won't alert the authorities. All this NEWT talk is driving me insane," Black said.
"You only have one more year of this shit as well, Black. I have three," Rory groaned.
"Let's just do it then, we can drop out and pursue this heroin business. I have a little flat in London that we can work from."
"You have your own flat? Wicked."
"Oh it's a shithole. But I couldn't live off my mates forever. Whereabouts are you situated?" Black asked.
Rory grinned,"Oh we're in a little village in Somerset- Huish Episcopi. My family breed dogs."
Sirius looked interested, "Really? What breed?"
"Whippets. They're the skinny ones. A little insane but I'm a dog lover so it doesn't phase me."
Sirius grinned, reflecting on something. His hair was getting long and some strands had covered his eyes.
"I really love dogs," he said, "I feel like they're my kind."
"Yeah well, that'd be right. You do look a bit like a mutt, with your hair like that. Here, let me-"
Rory pushed his hair back, running her fingers through it. She realised that somehow their seats had become very close together and her face felt rather hot and then ten seconds had passed with her hand still in his hair. She pulled her hand away and looked down at her papers.
"Much better," she muttered.
"I don't know, some quite like the rugged look."
"Rugged? More like feral, Black."
"Whatever, you still love it."
"Please father my children, Sirius," Rory said staring at him earnestly.
"Have sex with a fifth year? Never."
"That cuts deep, Black," Rory said. "You've thought about it, admit it."
He gave a wolfish smile and draped his arm across the back of her chair.
"Well I did have this rather interesting dream where you-"
"Sirius," she shrieked slapping his shoulder.
"You said that a lot in the dream."
"I literally can't stand you," she said smiling.
"Right back at you," he grinned. "We should probably finish these, Flitwick will be back in a quarter of an hour."
She mock-gasped, "Did Sirius Black just say something responsible?"
"Just because I'm not a miscreant like you..."
They somehow managed to complete the marking by the time the professor came back. Flitwick looked through the papers and, somehow seeming satisfied, told them they could go.
Rory and Sirius walked back to the common room in amicable silence.
"Well Murphy, thanks for making an excruciating evening a little bit more so."
"Flibberty Gibbert."
"What?"
"No, that's the password. Goodnight, Sirius." And she grinned and climbed though the portrait hole without looking back.