The Gryffindors didn't get to hold Quidditch tryouts until near the end of September. James hadn't lightened up about the game in any of the years since Sirius had met him (if anything, he had grown even more obsessed), so he was particularly frantic about the delay. Remus pointed out more than once that it had been James's own fault that he'd received two successive weeks of detention before the second week of school was complete, but that had only made the Quidditch captain several shades more insufferable.
Sirius didn't see what the big deal was since the entire Gryffindor team had been having regular summer practices; sure, the rest of them hadn't been at every practice like James had, but they were certainly much better prepared than any of the other teams who hadn't practiced at all. In addition, their entire team from the previous year had returned to Hogwarts except for the Keeper and one Beater, so they were in good shape. Of course, it wouldn't have done anyone any good to argue the point with James Potter, so Sirius had kept his mouth shut and dutifully trailed after his friend at too-early-o'clock in the morning on the wet, cold Saturday morning he had chosen for the trials.
There were about a dozen people waiting on the pitch, which Sirius thought was a good turnout for only two open positions. There were the usual second and third years who always showed up at tryouts, but Sirius thought that they all looked rather too small to be any good at the Beater or Keeper positions. There were also a few promising prospects, but Sirius was surprised to see Emmeline Vance.
"What are you all doing standing around?" demanded James. "Why aren't you warming up?"
The hopefuls looked around at the current team members and at each other for guidance, but none of them dared speak. James planted his broom firmly against the soft ground and put his free hand on his hip in a way that was so reminiscent of his mother that Sirius had to bite back a grin.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
There was a scramble to mount broomsticks and get in the air. Although some managed it admirably, a few of them were noticeably shaky. One particularly large fourth year tripped over his own two feet before he even managed to get on his broom. He hefted himself out of the mud and, with a bashful grin in their direction, slung his leg over his Cleansweep and cleanly took off.
James turned to give his team an exasperated look. "Well, what are you lot waiting for?"
He pushed into the air before any of them could answer, not that any of them would have bothered.
"He's in fine form today," commented Greg Towler, the remaining Beater. He was the younger brother of Amanda Towler, the ape-like girl who had been Gryffindor's Seeker before James. Greg wasn't any better looking than his sister, but fortunately he was more talented at Quidditch than his sister had ever hoped to be.
Sirius's fellow Chasers grumbled agreements to Towler's assessment, and Sirius internally sighed. James had a brilliant mind for Quidditch and, inasmuch as McGonagall cared about Gryffindor actually improving rather than recycling the same plays and tactics they'd been using since before she'd been on the team, he'd been the perfect choice for captain. Well, that and Sirius had outright refused the honor of co-captain when she'd asked, because he honestly thought James might have never spoken to him again. But James wasn't exactly the most inspirational of captains—in fact, he was a right git most of the time, and it often fell to Sirius to smooth ruffled feathers.
"He's just upset that we've lost two weeks of practice time," said Sirius as they all mounted their brooms, to immediate eye rolls from his teammates. "I know, I know. It's his fault we have, and we don't need the practice anyway—"
"Because we've been practicing our asses off all bleeding summer!" inserted Arthur Midgen, who was absently picking at one of his pimples.
"Yes, thank you, Midgen," Sirius replied as politely as he could manage, which wasn't very much at all. "I'll talk to James, but we all want to win when it comes down to it."
There was very little else to say about it, so Sirius tossed the Quaffle to the third Chaser and they all shot into the air to get started. Tryouts proceeded as usual. They ran through a series of Quidditch drills, then Sirius and his fellow Chasers took turns throwing Quaffles at the prospective Keepers, who each had a chance to defend the hoops, while Towler lobbed Bludgers back and forth with the prospective Beaters.
The clumsy boy from earlier turned out to be quite agile in the air, to everybody's surprise. A seventh-year boy was a better Beater, but Sirius figured that James would make the fourth year reserve Beater so that he'd be rather good by next year (and still with two more years of James's Quidditch captaincy to go, as it happened).
The contest to become Gryffindor's next Keeper wasn't even a close thing.
"I'm miles ahead of anyone else," Vance told him suddenly as they were hovering near each other watching a third-year girl miss nearly all the Quaffles Midgen threw in her direction.
Sirius turned towards her but didn't let his surprise show on his face. "Grown conceited, have we?"
"It's the truth," she replied.
"Yes, Vance, I have eyes." He motioned with one hand in the general direction of the poor girl currently trying to defend the hoops, who looked to be near tears. "What I don't know is why you feel the need to tell me."
Emmeline hadn't spoken more than two words together to him since the incident on the Hogwarts Express during their first year, and those two words were usually some variation on "Get bent." Not that Sirius could regret the end of their friendship over much. That had been the start of his friendship with Rabastan, and anyway Mary Macdonald's father was only a Muggle, so who cared if Sirius had laughed at Rabastan's treatment of him?
Vance didn't appear to want to talk to him now, but she plowed on regardless. "I wanted to know whether I have any shot at actually making the team."
"Why wouldn't you?"
He was genuinely flummoxed for a moment, but Vance's pointed glare in his direction made him realize her meaning soon enough.
"Because you'll tell Potter you don't mind?" she asked dubiously.
"No, you twit, because you're the best. James wouldn't care even if I did mind." He couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "Not that your presence affects me in the least. Maybe you just spend too much time thinking about me."
Her horrified look quickly morphed into outrage, but before she could formulate a response Sirius had already darted off to relieve Midgen of the Quaffle.
In the end, things went just as Sirius had predicted: The seventh year was made Beater, the fourth year reserve Beater, and Vance the Keeper. James didn't seem to have spared a thought for how Sirius may feel about having his friend-turned-foe on the team, although he realized that maybe he should have asked after Peter pointed it out to him. Sirius really didn't care and wouldn't have expected James to put his feelings ahead of the team even if he had minded, but he appreciated Peter's stalwart support nonetheless.
It turned out to be a good thing that they'd had Quidditch practices so often during the summer (besides just that it had been a convenient cover for Sirius's other activities), because the professors hadn't been exaggerating when they had said that fifth year would be more difficult than any of their previous years at Hogwarts. Between schoolwork and Quidditch practice, Sirius barely had time for anything else, and even James had been persuaded to cut back on practice from four times a week to three times a week.
Their Animagus practices also suffered from the onslaught of homework, although they managed to get in some practice whenever Remus was busy with prefect duties or at his study group with Evans.
During the full moon in mid-October, their lack of consistent practice became more evident. The transformations that had become relatively easy for them over the summer were more difficult now. Sirius had to turn his mind back to his knowledge of canine anatomy and focus harder than he'd had to focus since the beginning of summer to make his human limbs twist into dog legs and sprout thick black fur. Peter was having poorer luck, but James seemed to be doing okay, although the practice was exhausting.
Perhaps they should have stopped while they were ahead, but Sirius insisted that they could each go just one more round before retiring for the night, since they wouldn't have another chance to practice as much until the next full moon.
He felt more than a little guilty, then, when James looked up at him with panicked hazel eyes and declared, "I can't change it back."
Sirius stared at him for the space of several heartbeats.
"What do you mean you can't change it back?"
"I've been trying to change it back the usual way, you know, but, but I just... can't." He shrugged helplessly, trying now to present an air of calm. Sirius wasn't sure whether that was pure bravado or just a pure-blood wizard's assumption that if magic could get him into something then it could get him out of it, too. "I think I've only managed to thin out the fur a bit."
Sirius moved in front of him and leaned forward to get a better look. He couldn't see anything obviously wrong; it looked like how he thought a stag's shin and foot were supposed to look.
Although he didn't really want to say it, Sirius had to point out, "It would be really dangerous for me to mess around with this, James. This is really advanced magic. I'd probably just make it worse."
"You have to try," insisted James. "If we go to McGonagall, then she's going to know that we've been practicing to become Animagi."
"We don't have to tell her why, and I'm sure we can convince her that we were going off half-drawn and don't know about the mandrake leaves or anything." Sirius suggested half-heartedly, but they both knew that McGonagall wasn't an idiot.
James still insisted that he try, so Sirius aimed his wand and carefully visualized turning James's leg from a deer leg back to a human leg, using the techniques he had learned from the books they'd been studying since third year. When he cast the spell, James cried out in pain and collapsed back against his mattress.
Sirius, horrified at his friend's reaction, stopped immediately. "Merlin, James!"
Peter, who had been remarkably silent the entire time, roused himself from the end of his own bed and stuck his head out of their dormitory door to check if anyone was coming to investigate the noise.
"No, no, you have to try again." James took a breath and threw his arm across his eyes. "I could feel it shifting, so it was working. You can just silence me."
"Absolutely not!"
"Sirius!"
"No, James! Just no!" He waved a hand to forestall his friend's next protest. They could hear Peter assuring someone just outside the door that there was nothing to worry about, that it was just a prank gone wrong. Sirius took a deep breath. "Maybe… Maybe it will just go back to normal if we leave it overnight. Botched transfigurations usually lose their transfigured forms after a few hours."
James lowered his arm to pin Sirius with an unimpressed glare. "Maybe it will go back? What if it doesn't?"
"Then we'll have to go to McGonagall," insisted Sirius.
"Then she'll know!" cried James.
"I don't see that we have another choice!"
By now Peter had sent any concerned onlookers back to bed and had come over to look at James's leg from around Sirius's shoulder. "I can't get in trouble," he said worriedly. "I'm trying to get Slughorn to let me do a special Potions project. If I get caught up in this he'll never say yes."
Sirius privately thought that it was better all around if Peter weren't involved anyway. McGonagall might believe that Sirius and James had been messing around with human transfigurations on a lark, but it was stretching the imagination to think that such a poor Transfigurations student as Peter would try something so advanced for no good reason. Aloud he said, "That's okay, Peter. We know how important the project is to you."
A well placed glare at James convinced him to agree.
The next morning, it was immediately apparent that James's problem hadn't gone away overnight. He told them from between a crack in his bed hangings that he wasn't well and that they had all better go on without him. Anyway, they didn't have Transfiguration on Thursdays, and none of the other professors were likely to give him too hard a time.
"Whether they're nice about you skipping class is hardly the point, if you aren't really sick," said Remus, who looked as if he were moments away from producing a thermometer and verifying James's story for himself.
He was looking awful in his own right, and Sirius wondered at Pomfrey having released him from the infirmary so soon. It was just plain back luck for the rest of them.
"I am!" James protested. "I think I caught a chill in Astronomy last night!"
He sounded more annoyed than sick. Peter was standing by the door impatiently, completely unconcerned for his friend and clearly eager to head down for breakfast before the choice selections were gone. (To be fair, the raspberry jam did tend to clear out pretty quickly.) Remus, on the other hand, crossed his arms across his chest and glared, as if he had more to say.
Sirius stepped between James and Remus and gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "What's it matter if he's faking? It's his problem if he wants to make up the work."
James gave him a grateful look after Remus turned away with a roll of his own eyes.
They had double Astronomy with the Hufflepuffs that morning. Sirius didn't mind having the practical on Wednesday night and the lecture on Thursday morning, but according to his classmates it was something akin to torture. They had History of Magic after the morning break, though fortunately for only a single period. Professor Bins had been droning on about the same giant wars since at least March of the previous school year, so really if James had to pick a class to miss he'd picked a good one.
Sirius had a free period after lunch, but Remus and Peter (and James, if he hadn't been in bed) had Muggle Studies. Sirius didn't understand it, but Peter said that since his family were Muggles that the class would be an easy OWL without much effort on his part. He had never dared ask why Remus and James had decided to take the class, as he hadn't wanted to draw any undue suspicion to himself.
Sirius usually spent his free period either doing his homework or sneaking down to the dungeons to practice the Dark Arts. Today, though, he trudged back up the moving staircases towards Gryffindor Tower. Most people were either still in the Great Hall or making their way to class, so he didn't pass anyone in the corridors and only had to offer a friendly nod to two seventh years who were working on something in the common room.
James was still reluctant to go to McGonagall, but Sirius had come up with a better cover story and anyway his friend didn't have much choice except to trust him.
Sirius went down the stairs first and paused just inside the portrait hole to make small talk with the two girls in the common room so that James could slip out of the open portrait under his invisibility cloak. He didn't want anyone to see him in such a state, after all. They had timed it so that all of the other students would already be in class or wherever else they were heading after lunch, so they didn't meet anyone else in the hallways and James was able to remove his cloak and shove it into his pocket before they knocked on the door to Professor McGonagall's office.
She took one look at James's leg and exclaimed, "Mr. Potter, what have you done?"
Sirius supposed that he couldn't really expect McGonagall to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that someone had done it to James, after all the trouble they'd been in, but it still would've been nice if she had.
"We were just reading ahead, professor," began James. He had put on a mask of obviously fake contriteness, in keeping with how he usually acted when caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.
He didn't get any further, because McGonagall's nostrils flared alarmingly and she snapped, "Get in here, Potter! Black!"
They followed her meekly as she stalked back into her office and came to a stop next to her large desk, arms crossed and wand tapping against her shoulder.
"Of all the foolish things you've done…" she started, then stopped, seemingly at a loss for how to describe their stupidity. She pursed her lips violently. "What, precisely, did you hope to accomplish?"
"We were just… It was just…" floundered James.
Then, just as they had planned, Sirius butted in with, "We were planning a prank, professor. Turn unsuspecting people into animals for a few minutes, you know? We thought it'd be funny."
"A prank?" she repeated shrilly. "I suppose we're lucky that you decided to test this harebrained scheme on yourselves before exposing your schoolmates to your humor!"
James and Sirius wisely remained silent as she examined James's leg and tapped it several times with her wand, muttering to herself all the while about reckless hoodlums and idiotic pranks. All told, it took her less than a minute to set James to rights.
"Er… thanks, professor," James said quietly, eyeing the office door with no subtlety at all.
Professor McGonagall stood straight and stern, glaring at them both.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, I must impress upon you the seriousness of attempting magic that you do not understand. There is a good reason why human to animal transfigurations are not covered until seventh year, and the only students who cover the subject with any depth are those who show exceptional aptitude in Transfiguration and are approved for special projects. Although you are both good students, I can assure you that neither of you is prepared for that."
Sirius saw out of the corner of his eye that James was looking at him, and he couldn't help but glance back.
That was enough for McGonagall. She gaped at them for a few moments before she managed to ask, "Have you done this before?"
James shot Sirius a slightly panicked look, as this had not been part of their plan. Sirius tried to project cool confidence. Their Head of House seemed to come to her own conclusions based on their interactions.
"Mr. Black, am I to understand that you have successfully completed human to animal transfigurations?"
Sirius curled his tongue up against the roof of his mouth in irritation, but outwardly he remained collected. "Yes, Professor McGonagall."
"How far have you gotten?" she asked, clearly taken aback.
"Nothing much." He shrugged. "A few things. I turned my hand into a paw."
Her eyebrows had risen and her lips had thinned with each subsequent answer. She was clearly flummoxed, and if Sirius thought that she would be impressed by his prowess, he was mistaken. He endured a lecture of some duration on the dangers of unsupervised human transfigurations (She used James as an example of what could go wrong, but for the most part his friend was able to sit quietly and unnoticed.), and in the end she forced Sirius to promise that he would never try again until he was older and had the proper guidance.
Only when they were leaving did she remember why they had supposedly been engaged in such dangerous activities.
"I suppose I can't punish you for only planning a prank that you never carried out," she told them, which was just as Sirius had hoped it would be when he'd suggested that they ought to tell her that was what they'd been doing, "and strictly speaking, there aren't any rules against moving ahead in the curriculum or practicing advanced magic, no matter how foolhardy it may be. Do not mistake my decision for leniency; if I catch either of you practicing human transfigurations after I have expressly told you to stop, I will have you in detention until you graduate."
"Yes, professor," they both responded dutifully.
She narrowed her eyes at them again. "Do try to stay out of trouble. There's only so much I can do if you insist on earning detentions, and I want the Quidditch Cup in my office where it belongs."
By the week following James's transfiguration accident, Sirius was nearly crawling out of his skin. He hadn't had a chance to steal down to the dungeons between spending time with his friends, his increased workload, Quidditch practice, Animagus practice, and fitting in some time with his girlfriend, so he hadn't practiced dueling or Dark magic in ages. After a full summer of practicing nearly every day, Sirius found that now he could barely go half a week before he got itchy and felt like his skin was too tight.
He had taken to performing mild to middling hexes on anyone who annoyed him and some innocent people in the corridors who hadn't done anything to him at all, just to take the edge off, but it didn't work particularly well. It did earn him the ire of Evans and Vance, and the impotent exasperation of Remus, but the girls had never managed to catch him in the act and Remus wouldn't write up his own friend.
This particular Saturday he was feeling especially on edge, because their first Hogsmeade weekend was only a week away and he still hadn't received a single letter from Rabastan. He'd have understood (though he'd have been mightily disappointed) if his friend hadn't been able to get time away to come to Hogsmeade, but Rabastan hadn't even owled to let him know. He hadn't seen fit to send anything!
When Aquila had returned that morning with only a letter from Bellatrix, Sirius could have sworn she'd given him a pitying look, and then she had made a point to perch on his shoulder and preen his hair for upwards of a quarter hour. If even his owl had taken to trying to make him feel better, then the situation must be as bad as he thought.
He spent the rest of the morning in the common room. He'd normally spend it with Janice, but he wasn't in any frame of mind to pretend to be happy with his girlfriend when he was caught between pining for Rabastan and wanting to hex his bits off. James was forcing the three newest members of the Quidditch team to do extra drills with him, as they hadn't had the benefit of summer practices, so he missed Sirius's dismal mood and the explosion when Peter happened to overhear Lily Evans talking to a seventh year boy next to the fireplace.
"YOU WHAT?" Peter shouted, seemingly out of the blue.
Sirius was not the only one who startled at the sudden disruption. Remus had dropped their deck of cards mid-shuffle, and it seemed like everyone in the common room was looking to see what was going on. For her part, Evans took a few moments to realize that Peter had been addressing her, which was understandable given that it was rude of him to have been eavesdropping on her conversation and Sirius couldn't recall him ever having spoken directly to her before.
She blinked her big green eyes at him several times. "I'm meeting with Professor Slughorn on Monday," she said, sounding as if she were asking him rather than telling him.
"About your special project?" demanded Peter, and Sirius understood at once.
Slughorn hadn't approved Peter's project. He had said it was because fifth years weren't prepared for such things, but that was clearly a load of bollocks if he had approved a project for Evans.
"Well, mine and Severus's, yes," replied Evans.
Peter had turned a splendid shade of eggplant.
Remus blessedly chose that moment to announce that he and Evans should leave a bit early for their prefect meeting. Although she still seemed confused by the entire series of events, Evans allowed him to lead her out of the tower, only turning one baffled backwards glance to Peter before they disappeared through the portrait hole. Sirius figured that Remus would fill the girl in once he got her out of Peter's earshot.
As for Sirius and Peter, no words were necessary between them. They rose almost as one and, ignoring the lingering stares of their housemates, gathered their scattered belongings and headed for the dungeons.
Sirius could practically feel the rage pouring off of his friend as they made their way down from the seventh floor, which was surprising coming from Peter. They'd barely closed the door to the abandoned classroom before he whipped out his wand and sent a Blasting Curse at one of the many chairs that they had long since shoved against the walls.
"I can't believe that, that…" he trailed off, panting as if he'd just run some of the excruciating laps James forced the team to take around the Quidditch pitch and greenhouses.
Sirius placed an awkward hand on his friend's shoulder, but Peter only tensed more so he quickly dropped his hand back down to his side.
There wasn't much he could do besides point out that Slughorn was a windbag who was better at sucking up to more important people than he would ever be at potions. Not that he hadn't earned the title of potions master or that he wasn't a good teacher, but Peter had looked through the past twenty-odd years of potions journals available in the Hogwarts library and found that Slughorn hadn't published any research and hadn't been cited in anybody else's articles either. He seemed more interested in hanging off the coat tails of his ambitious acquaintances and former students than in having any ambitions based off his own merit. Of course, Peter already knew all of this, and Sirius had been trying to get him over the fact that Slughorn chose favorites (and that Peter wasn't one of them) since first year, so it likely wouldn't have done much good to say it all again.
Instead, he found himself suggesting, "You ought to brew something on your own. Slughorn wouldn't have done anything except let you make your own mistakes anyway."
Sirius didn't know that, as obviously he had never had a special project with Professor Slughorn himself, but it seemed like something he would do. And it sounded like it would mollify Peter.
"M-maybe," hiccuped Peter. "And I couldn't have brewed any Dark potions if he were watching."
"And you'd have been stuck in a spare dungeon with Evans and Snivellus."
"That's true." Peter's brow softened, though he didn't go so far as to smile, and Sirius knew that there was no way his anger could have abated. He turned to survey the empty classroom. "I guess I could set up something more elaborate in here."
Sirius nearly sighed in relief.
"Let me know if there's anything you can't pilfer. After all, your birthday is coming up."
Peter got a gleam in his eye at that, and Sirius mentally deducted the Galleons from his funds to cover the cost of the list he was sure his friend would give him. Although someone like Remus or James would be embarrassed to accept lavish gifts, Peter had no such problem, and Sirius was under no illusions that Peter preferred him over James primarily because James couldn't offer as much. The expenditure was worth it, though, to avoid an ongoing crisis that he would have to put up with for Merlin only knew how long. In any case, his allowance for each term had been increased to 100 Galleons at the start of his fifth year, and he had always saved more funds than he spent since first year, so he could well afford to pay for peace and quiet.
Even with that situation averted and a solid afternoon of Dark magic practice under his belt to calm his nerves, he soon found himself embroiled in more drama. The following Tuesday afternoon during Double Arithmancy, the fifth years were set to begin the project that Professor Farrah had been telling them about since the first class of term. They were meant to partner up, after which the professor would randomly assign each pair a number that they had to use to improve the effects of a spell. Sirius and Janice had naturally assumed that they would be partners, which left Remus and Peter to pair up (James, having decided at the end of second year that he was only going to sign up for the easy classes, had chosen Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies over Arithmancy or Ancient Runes).
However, at the beginning of the lesson Professor Farrah levitated two copper bowls from one of the shelves behind her desk and informed the class, "I have placed slips of parchment with the numbers one through nine in this bowl, and in this one I have placed each of your names. We will pair you up and assign numbers by drawing them randomly."
Groans and whispers erupted across the classroom. Sirius had an immediate, horrifying daydream of what it would be like to get paired with someone like Vance or, Merlin forbid, Snape.
"Now, none of that!" insisted their professor. "Part of my job is to prepare you for life after Hogwarts, where you won't always be able to work with your best friend!"
The students reluctantly emptied their seats and pressed along the sides of the small classroom, and the sorting ceremony began when Professor Farrah dipped her hand into the larger bowl and produced a scrap of parchment with Nigel Mulciber's name on it. The next named belonged to a prettyish sort of girl from Hufflepuff whom Sirius had never spoken to and who looked terrified as she approached the scowling Slytherin boy.
Remus ended up with a boy from Ravenclaw, and Peter didn't bother to hide his groan of dismay when his name was called after Emmeline Vance's. To the immense relief of most everybody else, Snape got partnered with a visibly annoyed Will Avery. Then Sirius's named was called and he untangled his hand from Janice's and began making his way towards the next available table.
He had only made it a few steps when the professor read, "Evan Rosier."
Sirius nearly blurted his mental Well, fuck me! aloud.
If Rosier's pale expression was anything to judge the situation by, Sirius was effectively communicating his displeasure without having to say the words. The other boy took his seat in equal silence and proceeded to hunch in on himself as if he thought it would make him disappear. It only served to annoy Sirius further.
They were assigned the number three and left to discuss which spell they wanted to use and how they could use the effects of the number to increase its effects. Sirius and Janice had decided prior to class that they would work on the Bubble-head Charm, which would be easy enough for them that they wouldn't be punishing themselves but difficult and unusual enough to earn them full marks. But it was clear from the questioning look that Janice was sending his way from next to her new partner, Lily Evans, that she still wanted to use the charm for her own assignment. Sirius ignored the glare Evans was sending his way and offered a smile and a brief nod to his girlfriend to let her know he didn't mind if she used their idea.
Rosier quietly suggested that they work on the Jelly-Fingers Curse, which had Sirius fighting the urge to roll his eyes. That was only marginally more inventive than the oft-chosen Jelly-Legs Curse.
"How about the Swelling Curse?" he suggested cruelly, then sat back further in his chair to better enjoy the flush of mixed embarrassment and anger that lit the other boy's entire face at the memory of their rather one-sided duel during first year.
Rosier didn't seem able to come up with a response for several moments, but eventually he settled on saying, "Listen, Sirius—"
"No, you listen," interrupted Sirius. "The only silver lining of this partnership is that there are two people in the class who I'd have liked working with even less than working with you. I'm not going to pretend to be happy about this."
"Fine," the other boy snapped, "but you are going to be civil and stop trying to antagonize me, because we both want an O in this class."
Sirius regarded Rosier's set jaw and flaring nostrils through narrowed gray eyes for a few long seconds, weighing his options. Given that he had no choice but to work with his former friend and he actually did want an O in the class, he didn't have many alternatives. But that didn't stop him from briefly considering whether he could manage the project by himself without Rosier's help, how much it would take to drive Rosier to drop the class, and even (for a moment) whether he actually needed an OWL in Arithmancy himself.
Maybe it was a bit childish to hold onto childhood grudges, as Rabastan had been telling him for a couple of years, but the kind of hurt and disappointment that he'd felt when Rosier had abandoned him obviously wasn't something that he could get over simply by telling himself that he needed to get over it.
Ultimately, he offered a clipped "Fine!" in return, and each of them turned to silently look through his own book for inspiration about which spell to choose for the assignment.
The week didn't get any better after that, as the next morning they were assigned an OWL project in Ancient Runes. The students were allowed to choose their own partners, but unfortunately for Sirius he sat alone at his table since Janice had dropped the class. He was just contemplating whether Remus would mind letting him work with Peter and had turned in his chair to ask them when Iris Hornby dropped her things on his table and took the seat next to his. Sirius had just enough time to meet Remus's laughing eyes before he was assaulted by the girl's high, excited voice.
"Oh, Sirius, I hope you don't mind partnering with me," she said. He would have informed her that, as a matter of fact, he did mind very much, but before he could open his mouth more than a sliver, she continued, "I've always thought we'd work well together, you know."
Sirius heard Peter snort from the table behind him. He wanted to point out that he was pretty sure he and Iris had never even spoken before, but Professor Dower chose that moment to stand from his desk. There was a last clatter of books against tables and wood chairs across the stone floor as stragglers settled at their new tables, which the professor surveyed with his arms crossed impatiently across his chest, and then a hush fell over the classroom.
"Good, I see that everyone has found a partner," declared Professor Dower, and Sirius had to resist the urge to groan aloud. In the next moment, the professor waved his wand and a dozen silver-colored necklaces levitated from somewhere behind his desk and came to rest in front of the students, one per pair. "Your task," the professor elaborated, "is to use only the runes we have gone over prior to today to create a protection charm out of the amulet I have provided."
"What do you mean by 'protection'?" asked Remus, after the professor had called on him.
Dower shrugged noncommittally. "That is up to you to interpret. OWL-level work requires you to be able to think on your feet and apply your knowledge to solve problems."
Sirius was sure that a standardized test couldn't possibly be as difficult and robust as their professors were making it out to be, and he didn't appreciate the air of condescension they all seemed to take on when they talked about it. As he looked around at his classmates, he thought that maybe most of the panic they felt about the OWLs was because their professors had focused for the past four years more on rote memorization and being able to cast individual spells than on magical theory and the ability to break down spells into their broadly applicable parts. Maybe Sirius would be just as panicked as most of his classmates seemed to be if he were only now being asked for the first time to apply what he had learned, but he had been lucky to have his early (illegal) lessons with his grandfather and to have spent several years under the tutelage of a dueling instructor who took practical application to the next level.
His more immediate concern was that Hornby seemed more interested in Sirius himself than in their assignment.
"Is it true about Edgecomb?" she asked as they were walking together after class, rather than respond to his inquiry about what sort of amulet she thought they should make, which had been the only reason he'd talked to her at all.
Sirius tried to stamp down his irritation. "Is what true?"
"Why, that she dropped Runes because the two of you broke up, of course!" replied Iris as she leaned over into his space as they walked.
Sirius blinked down at her. "What? Who told you that?"
"Everyone's saying so," she insisted rather loudly, her pale eyes shining with excitement. Sirius could guess, from the way that the other Hufflepuff girls were listening in on their conversation, that "everyone" meant Iris Hornby and her friends. "They're saying that she's trying to avoid you after you broke up with her."
"I didn't break up with her," he tried to explain.
"You don't mean that she broke up with you?" cried Iris, as if she couldn't think of any possibility more outrageous.
"No one broke up with anyone. We're still together," Sirius explained again through clenched teeth. "It's a rather stupid rumor anyway, given that Janice and I have several other classes together, including another elective."
"Oh," said Iris.
They were no closer to figuring out what they were going to do for their project by the time Sirius and the girls went their separate ways on the first floor landing (he toward the library and they towards the Muggle Studies classroom). Sirius could only hope that Iris would prove to be a more serious partner going forward, because since he had chosen to take only two electives he expected to receive an Outstanding in each of them. He hadn't chosen the minimum of two electives because he was lazy or simply didn't want to sit the exams for the others, as most of his classmates had, but he had done it because he fully intended to continue onto the NEWT level in all nine of his subjects rather than dropping two or three of the core subjects like most students did after OWLs. Sirius would be incredibly displeased if Hornby cost him top marks in Ancient Runes.
By Friday, Sirius still hadn't managed to get a straight answer from Iris. At dinner that evening after a particularly trying conversation with the girl, he complained, "I guess I'm just going to have to do the project by myself and let her leech off my work."
"Why don't you tell Professor Dower?" asked Remus, at the same time James said, "I'm sure she's just tired from all the flirting."
Choosing to ignore James, Sirius turned towards the smaller boy. "I don't want to tattle to a grown up. Besides, Dower's a real hard-ass. He'd probably just feed me some line about it being his job to prepare me to do other peoples' work in the real world."
"This is why you should have taken Care of Magical Creatures with me," inserted James.
"But Care isn't useful at all."
Remus and Peter both shifted uncomfortably in their seats, though neither tried to stop the oncoming disagreement. They had both figured out ages ago how useless it was to try.
"Not useful?" repeated James. He waved the drumstick he was holding in Sirius's general direction. "And I suppose that you'll need to use the runic alphabet loads more often than you'll encounter magical creatures in the magical world."
Of course, runes were used in more everyday situations than James was giving them credit for. Sirius was more likely to encounter wards and magical objects or need to break down the components of a spell than he was to encounter a magical creature he needed to know how to take care of. But he had very little patience for an academic debate at that point—the past week of classes had been the worst he'd had since first year.
Instead of making any sort of intelligent point, he said, "If I never decide to expand the family business into Kelpie breeding, I'll be sure to hire you rather than clean the tanks myself."
The dispute likely would have devolved into a real argument, except that they were all distracted by the arrival of the evening mail. Sirius immediately lost interest in James and turned to watch the incoming owls. Aquila wasn't among them, and, more importantly, neither was Rabastan's vicious eagle owl.
The first Hogsmeade trip of the year was the next day, and he still hadn't received a single owl from Rabastan despite the other boy's promises. Sirius had been thinking about seeing him again since the day they'd parted—their last day together was frequently on his mind, obviously, and Sirius had even been dreaming (and daydreaming) about going further. Maybe reciprocating for Rabastan. Maybe even going all the way.
He had a brief moment of doubt. Maybe Rabastan really didn't want him after all and just hadn't wanted to say it to his face. But no… Sirius was a fucking catch, thank you very much, and anyway Rabastan wasn't shy about sharing his feelings. So it had to be something else. Not that he could think of any excuse at all to justify not even sending so much as an owl for nearly two months.
James had clearly said something to him, probably continuing their debate, but Sirius hadn't heard. It seemed like all he could hear was the blood rushing behind his ears.
Without another word to any of his friends, he stood from the table and stalked out of the Great Hall to lick his wounds in private.
Author's Note: Thank you for everybody who is sticking with this story, especially those of you who have left wonderful, insightful, encouraging reviews. Rest assured that I am still working on this story no matter how busy I get, even if, as Angelica would say, I got 'sponserbilities now.