Chapter Three: Sirius in Love

James Potter's bedroom was stiflingly hot. It didn't help that there were four boys crammed in there, rather than the more usual one - but even without the overcrowding, the air would still be thick and baking. The windows were open, but there was no cooling breath of wind to be enticed inside, so it did little to help.

Sirius Black - James' best friend in the whole world - had been at the house almost all summer, hiding from his horrible family who called him names, locked him in his bedroom and didn't buy him Christmas presents. Remus and Peter - who came from considerably happier homes - had come to visit for the week once the August full moon was past.

Although the hour was late (well past midnight) all four were still awake - and talking. Earlier that day, Sirius had swiped the newspaper off Mr. Potter - so he and Remus could do the crossword together - and that was when they had discovered the article on the rally turned riot at the Ministry the previous day. And ever since then they had talked of little else, and now couldn't sleep.

'Why didn't they just get arrested?' James asked. 'All those aurors hanging around - and they let these … hooligans start tearing up the Ministry and then let them leave? Why?'

'Because of who the "hooligans" were,' Sirius told him, his expression was dark and he shook his head in disgust. 'If they had been a bunch of half bloods and muggleborns making violent demands, too right they would have been arrested. But look at the names of the families involved: Selwyn, Malfoy - my mad cousin, Bella - both a Black and a Lestrange … they're the type that run the country behind the scenes, use their gold to pass the laws they like … of course they didn't get arrested. Foul gits.'

'Do - d'you think your parents were there, Sirius?' Peter asked hesitantly (Peter had always been quite afraid of Sirius, although they were supposed to be friends).

Sirius snorted. 'Of course they were. Bet they took Reg. Bet they lapped up every word. I bet my dad is a paid up member of this Knights of Walpurgis rubbish they're talking about.'

'Selwyn led the rally,' Remus said - reading the article once more, 'but he isn't the one really behind this, is he?' he looked up at his friends. 'This all comes back to - well - that Lord Voldemort bloke Dumbledore spoke about.'

Sirius snorted once again - sounding increasingly disgusted with everyone. 'What a tosspot. There's no such thing as a wizarding Lord.'

'No, there's only King Sirius Black the Third … ow,' (he had just been thumped on the arm by his royal majesty, himself). 'But - what I mean is - why is Selwyn being the public face? Why isn't Voldemort coming out and saying this stuff for himself? Why does he need a mouthpiece?'

'He's too busy murdering and cannibalising people isn't he?' James said.

They all looked glum, while they remembered the events of a couple of months ago - where Remus had nearly been arrested for an unusually vicious werewolf attack, only for Sirius to prove it was no such thing - and was instead the work of a dark wizard.

'You know that's probably it?' Sirius looked thoughtful. 'This so-called "Dark Lord" is seriously evil. Only nobody but him, us and Dumbledore seem to realise it. You can't just stand on a platform in front of a crowd and say, "hi folks - I like to eat people's hearts and want to live forever - oh, and I think we should exterminate all muggleborns - join me". People would run a mile. He'd be arrested as the dangerous nutter he is. He's using people like Selwyn - like my family - to be the respectable face of what he wants. To convince ordinary, respectable wizards that they want it too. He won't unveil his real plans until it's too late and everyone's in too deep. All these people at this rally don't even know they're being used. Idiot foul gits.' And his next snort was the most disgusted yet.

'I don't understand why the Ministry isn't doing something,' James said. 'Something more than the nothing they are doing. Jenkins has all the information we do - a dirty, great, pureblood mania riot just broke out in her own office … and what is she doing?'

'Probably working out how she can blame it all on me,' Remus muttered (he was still a little bitter, after the events of the previous term - and not inclined to think too kindly of the Minister who had persecuted him).

'I don't understand what she's playing at. Why isn't she doing something? I mean - really?'

'She's afraid. She isn't ready to face up to what this all means - so she's burying her head in the sand and hoping it all goes away,' Remus said.

'It won't go away if she doesn't do anything.'

'No - but then I don't think she's a very good Minister for Magic.'

'And she'll let the whole world tear itself apart, rather than take action,' Sirius said.

Peter looked frightened. 'That won't really happen though. It'll all die down - won't it? Voldemort's a tosspot - he won't get anywhere… like we said, right?'

But the other three boys did not look convinced. Things had not died down over the summer, as they had hoped they might - and this rally was unwelcome news indeed. It was looking like, unlike the Minister for Magic, it was perhaps time for them to start really taking things seriously. To face this head on and admit it really was happening - and it really would be bad.

'If only we weren't only thirteen,' James said, rather glumly. 'We know what's happening, we're not too scared to admit it … but what can a bunch of kids do? Who will listen to us?'

'What about … other kids?' Everyone turned to look at Peter. He flushed. 'It's just - these Knight blokes have themselves a youth wing. They must think it's important to get people young. Maybe it is. Maybe if we can tell other kids what's happening, they won't want anything to do with it. And when they get older - well - we'll be the ones in charge one day. It's something I've been thinking about a bit - with my new comic I'm writing.'

This distracted the three of them from doom, gloom and imminent warfare. 'You're writing a comic?'

'That's excellent , Pete - can we see it?'

Peter flushed. 'Well - it isn't done yet, just some ideas I've had floating around.'

'What's it about?'

'A -' he gave a half apologetic glance towards Remus, 'a werewolf, actually. I thought maybe if I write a comic about werewolves, and kids read it, they wouldn't grow up hating and fearing them so much - they'd know they were just normal people, like Remus. And then maybe things wouldn't have to be so bad - the laws and stuff.'

Remus smiled. 'That's a great idea,' he said, though Peter continued to look a little embarrassed .

'It's genius! ' Sirius said.

Peter flushed again. Praise from Sirius always made him awkward - like he was waiting for the other boot to drop.

'So can we see it?' James asked.

Peter hesitated - and then nodded. 'It's not finished though,' he said, opening up his backpack and rooting through his things until he found it. 'Just a start - silly really.'

'Don't be so modest!' and James snatched the comic away from him and showed it to the others.

The front cover depicted a full moon and a wolf howling up at it and bore the title:

Codename: Moony

And then the inside showed the beginning of a story of a boy who used his werewolf disguise to solve various mysteries, foil nefarious schemes and catch blackhearted villains for the muggle Queen of England.

'This is amazing, Peter!' James said, flipping through - and laughing at the part where a very greasy haired, hook-nosed villain had his pants ripped clean away by "Moony's" teeth. 'And also - we're going to start calling Remus "Moony".'

'Please don't call me that.'

'No - it's great - and this comic is a great way to humanise your … furry little problem .'

'Alright - I take it back. You can call me "Moony", just please never ever refer to my being a werewolf as that ever again.'

'Nah,' Sirius grinned in delight and wrapped his arm around Remus. 'They're both 's nothing you can do.'

'I never liked you very much, Sirius Black.'

'You're very prissy, Moony - you know that? Very proper …ow.' "Moony" had just punched him on the arm. 'Anyway,' he shot Remus a mock dirty glance and rubbed his shoulder. 'I want a comic about me too, Peter. And all my … swashbuckling.'

James and Remus both burst out laughing. 'You do not swash any buckles!'

'No - when we've all worked out how to be animals - I want a comic too. I'm not letting Remus have all the glory. I want one about all my adventures - and whatever it is I turn into.'

'Yes, Peter - and you can call it "Frosty, the Silverback Gorilla" … ow,' Sirius had just punched Remus right back. 'Sorry - I meant "Pinky, the Naked Mole Rat"... Ow!' '

'I've told you - I will be something awesome and majestic.'

'You're barking!'

'You'll see…'

A sudden noise on the landing made them all go quiet. 'That's my dad,' James hissed. 'Pretend to be asleep!' And they all lay down immediately, and pretended to snore…

…

Remus was just drifting off to sleep for real, when he felt a tug on his sleeping bag - and then a warm, Sirius shaped lump started to climb inside with him. 'No,' he grunted, 'don't even think about it!'

'Oh, shift over, Moony, there's plenty of room.'

'There's not. And it's about a billion degrees in here already. We'll die of heat exhaustion. And don't call me "Moony".'

But Sirius would not be deterred, and with a mutter of 'drama queen', he forced his way inside, lay down and wrapped an arm around Remus. 'Hi.'

'Hi,' Remus replied through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes and willed himself to think of cooling thoughts - like gentle breezes and ice cold showers and the feel of the frozen air at Hogwarts in the winter, when they would whip their todgers out and write their names in the snow.

It didn't work. The sweat rolled down his back in little beads and one even rolled off the end of his nose. He stuck an arm out of the sleeping bag and gasped a little, like a stranded fish … and then prayed that, squashed in as they were, his body would at least do him the courtesy of not doing some of the strange, random, awful and embarrassing things that it had started doing at strange, random, awful and embarrassing times, ever since he had become a teenager. Not with Sirius this close.

Sirius - although the instigator of this madness - seemed to be thinking along similar lines, though. 'Are the other two definitely asleep?' he asked quietly.

'Yes. Lucky them. They don't have you clambering all over them. I was very nearly asleep.'

'Don't be a grouch - I need to ask you something. About, well … you know … the … stuff your mum told you about, that purebloods don't bother to tell their children about because they're not as sensible as muggles.'

Remus stopped gasping and flapping and went very still. 'What?'

'Well - alright - you know your todger…'

Remus closed his eyes and wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole as Sirius whispered his question to him, very quietly so as not to wake the others.

'Yes,' he said at the end. 'It's supposed to do that.'

'Even in the middle of A History of Magic?'

'That's just because you're a teenager. Everything's all over the place at the minute. It'll settle down.'

'Soon?' Sirius asked hopefully.

'Not really. But one day - and then you can control it. I think … I hope.'

'Why would I want to control it?'

He could hear the frown in Sirius's voice, and he rolled his eyes at his naivety. 'So you can you know - with your wife.'

'I don't have a wife.'

Remus sighed. 'No - but you will.'

'I will not. I've told you, Remus - I will never ever you know with a girl .'

'We'll see.'

'Yes - we will.'

'So - er - is that it? Can I go to sleep now? Will you get out of my sleeping bag and leave me to swelter to death by myself?'

'Yeah - OK - only … Remus, how worried are you? About that rally yesterday? About this Voldemort bloke?'

'I'm worried,' Remus admitted.

'Me too … I'm worried about my family getting involved - and what that will mean for me.'

Despite the heat, and how sweaty his palms were, Remus reached for Sirius's hand and squeezed it. 'Are you worried they'll chuck you out? For not being one of them?'

But Sirius shook his head. 'I hope they do that. No … I'm afraid they'll get in too deep - to really dark stuff - and that they'll drag me down with them.'

…

But - for all they had to fear about the future - they weren't going to let it stop them having fun. Safely tucked away at James' house, London and the rally seemed a very long way away and an imminent war seemed far less likely out in the sunshine, than it had late at night. There were only ten days left before school started, they were together, they didn't have detention or homework - they were going to make the most of it.

After breakfast they walked down the country lanes, dragging sticks through hedges and knocking the leaves off, until they reached the bus stop and then they caught the muggle bus to Tiverton - which was the nearest large town to James. (Sirius had never worn muggle clothes before he had come to spend the summer with James, and he had had to borrow some jeans and a T-shirt because - as James said - he would look a right wally wearing wizarding robes on the muggle bus. Now Remus had come to stay as well, he was wearing Remus's clothes - as they fit him rather better - but, even in clothes that fit, he was still a little unsure about trousers. 'I just prefer a bit of a breeze', he said to the others - while they laughed at him until their sides hurt for being a poncy, pureblood prince.)

They got off the bus and walked down the highstreet - peering in the shop windows at the muggle clothes and contraptions that were on sale. 'What is that?' Sirius asked, wrinkling his nose as he peered at the small box-like device in the window of a shop called "Currys". 'And do you think I could take it apart?'

'It makes toast,' Remus told him. 'My Grandma Howell has one in her kitchen. It runs on electric. You could take it apart, but it would never work at Hogwarts.'

'Is " electric" what muggles use instead of magic?'

'Yes. It powers all their stuff. Their lights, their wirelesses, their toasters - everything.'

'How does it work?'

Remus shrugged. 'Dunno - science I suppose.'

Sirius turned away from the toaster and looked at Remus, his expression even more confused. 'What - in Merlin's name- is "science" ?'

'Muggle magic. It's not as fast as real magic - but they're getting pretty good at it.'

'Hmmm,' he turned back to the toaster - and tapped his fingers on the glass speculatively. 'If I took it apart at school - and enchanted it - do you think I could get it to work with magic, even though it's muggle?'

'Well, what enchantment would you use?'

'I don't know…' Sirius grinned, 'that's what would make it so much fun.'

'If that's what you want to spend your money on …'

'It is … will you help me buy it? I've never used muggle money.'

Mr. Potter had visited Gringotts bank and swapped some wizarding gold for muggle notes and coins, so that the boys could spend their summer wandering more freely through the muggle world. James told the others he had never done this for him before, and he speculated that his father was letting them - and particularly Sirius - rampage all through muggle Devon purely to spite the Black family.

The Potters did not hold the same beliefs as Sirius's family, indeed they were quite dismayed and disgusted by the way the tide of public opinion seemed to be turning. And encouraging the four boys to mingle with muggles - and paying for them to do so - was Mr. Potter's small act of rebellion.

The two boys entered the shop, found the aisle with the toasters on it and lifted one down from the shelf. It was all boxed up, so they couldn't see it properly - and Remus could tell Sirius was just itching to get it out and start examining it. The price tag said it was £4.70. 'That's a lot of money,' Remus said doubtfully.

'Do I have enough?'

'Yes - if you use this,' he showed him the five pound note. 'But … it will use up almost all of it. I'm not sure I ever saw my mum with one of these.'

'Well - Mr. Potter gave it to me to spend.'

Remus nodded - and tried not to feel uncomfortable at spending so much on something with no use. Both the Potters and the Blacks were absolutely loaded. This probably wasn't a big deal for Sirius, or James' family. He took Sirius over to the till and - trying not to show his reluctance - handed Sirius's five pounds over to the cashier. He was handed 30 pence back in change, which he gave to Sirius - and then they left the shop, Sirius with the toaster tucked under his arm and a very pleased smile on his face.

Meanwhile James - with Peter tagging along behind him - had been stirring up trouble further along the street. 'There you are!' he said, when he saw them. 'I've found someone to buy them for us.'

Inspired by Lily Evans' rebellion the term before (not that he would ever admit to taking an idea from the loathsome FlatuLily), James had decided they needed to find an adult to buy them some cigarettes to try (he also had plans to swipe some of his dad's Firewhisky). 'We just need the muggle money to do it - but I don't have any coins.'

'Sirius has,' Remus said.

Sirius dug in his pocket and took out his 30 pence. James examined the numbers on the coins carefully, totalled up how much they had in his head and then beamed. 'Excellent - there's enough here. Me and Pete will follow him into the shop - he doesn't look that trustworthy so we want to keep an eye - and Pete's the best at skulking.'

'An adult man willing to buy 13 year olds cigarettes, how could he possibly not be trustworthy?' Remus said drily.

But, if James noticed his tone, he didn't say anything - and he and Pete ran across the road towards the newsagents, dodging between the parked cars, and handed over the coins to the rather disreputable looking young man who had agreed to buy their contraband for them. The three of them disappeared inside the shop, and Sirius turned to examine himself in the nearest window.

'I'm still not sure about these trousers,' he said to Remus.

'Don't be soft. They're much more practical than robes and anyway … they suit you.'

'Do you really think so?' He suddenly looked very pleased with himself - and twisted this way and that, all the better to admire his reflection.

Remus laughed. 'Merlin - you're vain.'

'I just don't want to look like an idi…' he trailed off, peered deeper into the window and went very still. 'Oh…' he breathed - and peered some more. Remus frowned and looked at the reflection to try and see what had so captivated his friend. Sirius reached out and clutched at his hand - crushing his fingers.

'Ow - what is it?'

'Remus - I'm in love!'

'What?' He stared into the window's reflection. There were two muggle girls - a bit older than them - in very short skirts and with long, swishy hair, standing near the shop James had disappeared into, though Remus couldn't see much of them, as they were behind all the vehicles parked along the edge of the road.

He frowned. 'Why? I mean … they're alright looking I suppose but…'

Sirius tore his eyes from the window, 'what?'

'The girls. I mean - they're not bad - but…'

'Not the girls, Moony!' He stared at him incredulously. 'That!' He pointed into the window - at the reflection - and then turned so that he could gaze in wonder upon the real thing. It was large and shiny and parked at the side of the road … and Sirius had never seen anything quite so beautiful in all his life. 'What is it?' he asked.

'Oh - er - ' Remus was starting to smile. 'It's called a motorbike.'

'A motorbike ,' Sirius breathed the word reverently. 'It's beautiful. What does it…'

And then a woman, dressed in a leather jacket, came out of the newsagents, put a helmet on her head and swung her leg over the bike. She switched on the engine and gunned the throttle. It roared into life - revving and thrumming.

Sirius made a moaning noise in the back of his throat. Remus fought down a smile - while Sirius watched hungrily, as the woman steered the bike out among the traffic and started weaving in and out of cars.

'Look at how it moves!'

The woman and the bike reached a clear stretch of road and - with another rev of the engine, which made Sirius moan again - she shot off into the distance, leaving all the slow moving cars behind in her dust.

'That was …that was …' but he couldn't find the words to describe just what that was. 'Remus - I have to have one.'

'Well you'll have to wait a few years. And save up. Motorbikes cost a lot more than toasters.'

Sirius glanced at the toaster still tucked under his arm. Suddenly it seemed very small and unimpressive. 'Do you think, if I can work out how to enchant this, I can work out how to enchant one of them. '

'What do you want it to do?'

'I want it to fly .'

'You're mental.'

And, for once, Sirius did not have a retort - he just gazed longingly in the direction the motorbike had disappeared in, his eyes misty and his mouth slightly open.

…

He was unusually quiet all the way home - his eyes still glazed over as he was lost in a daydream of having his own (flying) motorbike and being able to hear that roar of the engine whenever he wanted to.

James more than made up for Sirius's silence, however, by being unusually ebullient - even for him. The disreputable man had been as good as his word. They had the cigarettes, James would swipe his dad's alcohol - and on the boy's last night together at the house, they would have themselves a little party. ('We have to wait until the very last night,' James told them all cheerfully, '- that way it doesn't matter if we get caught and you all get sent home in disgrace, because you were going home anyway.')

The next three days passed quickly, Sirius made them return to Tiverton so he could look for the motorbike again (though he had no luck) and he wouldn't let Peter rest until the smaller boy had drawn him a picture of one.

'And put some clouds next to it - to show it's flying,' Sirius said, peering over Pete's shoulder as he drew, 'and me riding it. It's no good if I'm not riding it.'

'Just leave me alone and let me get on with it,' Peter muttered - but not loud enough that Sirius could hear.

Their last night together rolled around. As it approached, Sirius became more reckless and more sulky - prone to sudden outbursts of anger or mischief, as he was faced with the prospect of being trapped with his family for an entire week before he returned to school. But the other three managed to keep him under some form of control and prevent anything too disastrous from happening - though there were one or two close calls.

On the final night, they waited impatiently, stuffing their knuckles into their mouths to stop themselves from giggling, until Mr. and Mrs. Potter had gone to bed and the house was dark and quiet - apart from gentle snoring. Then, with many overly loud whispers telling each other to be quiet, they climbed out of their sleeping bags and brought out the cigarettes and the bottle of firewhisky from under the bed.

They lit a few candles and James poured them each a shot. 'Cheers,' he whispered.

'To us,' Peter said, clinking glasses.

'To Moony.'

'Oi! To King Sirius Black the third.'

'Oi!'

'To beating the pants of Slytherin in the house cup next year,' James finished up. And then they knocked back their drinks. There was a moment of silence … and then gagging and choking and spluttering and much face pulling.

'Oh - my. That is… disgusting ,' Remus coughed.

'I think it burned my tonsils out,' Peter wheezed.

'Don't be soft, Pete - it's…' Sirius struggled to twist his face back into its normal, handsome position. 'It's … fine.'

'We just need another go - need to get used to it.' And James poured them each another glass.

Peter looked doubtful (though no more doubtful than Remus felt). 'Do we really?'

'Yeah - we just need to get a taste for it. Down the hatch.'

They drank again, draining their glasses until there was nothing left. Remus's head felt all fuzzy, like he was spinning around and around - and he began to giggle though he wasn't sure why. Sirius had flopped back onto the floor - was stretched out on his back - and he was laughing softly to himself as well. Remus lay down next to him, the whole world tilted on its axis and he gripped hold of Sirius so he didn't fall off. But that only made them giggle all the harder.

'Shh,' James hissed. 'My parents will hear.'

'Why should we listen to someone who's all blurry?' Sirius asked. Remus snorted. James had gone blurry - he had two heads and his outline was all smudgy. He looked ridiculous. He couldn't expect people to take him seriously when he looked so ridiculous.

'I don't feel well,' Peter groaned.

'Nonsense. It's time for the cigarettes.' And, blundering slightly, James put the bottle of firewhisky down on the windowsill, next to a candle, and took out the packet of cigarettes from where he had hidden it in his dressing gown pocket.

He took one out, popped it between his lips and then raised his wand and muttered 'incendio' (which was hard to do with a cigarette in his mouth). The tip of his wand ignited - a bit more violently than he expected. He yelped, jumped back a little, and then put the flame to the tip of the cigarette. It caught light. 'Nox' .

The smoke curled into his mouth. He choked and spluttered and passed the cigarette on to Sirius. Sirius propped himself up on his elbow and took a long and elegant drag. He made it look like he had been doing this since forever (of course he did) and he blew the smoke out in a casual but steady stream. Though - when he passed it on to Remus- he was looking a little bit greener than usual.

Remus drew on the cigarette and wrinkled his nose. 'Oh - I understand now why Petra was sick all over Big Macca's shoes.' And he gladly passed it across to Peter.

It barely touched Peter's lips before he handed it back to James. 'I don't want any more.'

'Me neither,' Remus agreed.

James rolled his eyes, took another drag, choked and gave it to Sirius.

Sirius finished it off - looking smug and handsome and impossibly cool as he rested on one elbow and smoked it right the way down to the butt. 'What do I do with it now?'

'Here - I'll stub it out.' James took it back off him and stubbed it out on the windowsill. 'Oh bugger, ashes'. He tried to sweep away the incriminating evidence, but his arm knocked the bottle of firewhisky, and it fell over - spilling out its contents in an ever deepening puddle. 'Bollocks - hang on.' He tried to rescue the bottle but - with his head swimming from smoke and alcohol - only managed to knock the candle over. 'Well - at least the flame should go ou -aaah!'

He jumped backwards and fell off the bed as the candle hit the alcohol and the whole windowsill went up in flames. In an instant they were all on their (slightly unsteady) feet, crying out in alarm. All thoughts of being quiet had flown out of the (flaming) window as panic set in.

'Put it out, put it out!'

'Bugger - the curtains have caught.'

'Put it out - the whole house will burn down!'

A sudden wailing sound rent the air. 'The smoke detector enchantments!' James groaned.

The room filled with smoke, the flames licked their way up the curtain, bright red, hot and angry. The boys stood there - staring and panicking and not knowing what to do - while the horrible wailing noise screamed overhead.

'Aguamenti!' There was a sudden fountain of water, it splurged across the fire - extinguishing it until all that was left was darkness, smoke and a sizzling noise.

The boys turned to look. Mrs. Potter was standing in the doorway, in her housecoat and slippers, her wand out. She stared at the four of them - and for once her kindly face was angry. 'What have you been doing?' she demanded. And, for a usually smiling middle aged mother, she bore an uncanny resemblance to a sabre tooth tiger.

She stared at them. They stared at her. There was total silence … and then Sirius doubled over - and was sick all over Mrs. Potter's slippers.

…

The three of them left the next morning, in disgrace. Breakfast was very quiet. Sirius looked very strained and Remus was not sure if it was his imminent reunion with his own family that was troubling him, or just embarrassment at having ruined Mrs. Potter slippers by puking all over them. He patted his hand comfortingly anyway - but didn't dare say anything, under the angry glares of James' parents.

They lined up at the fireplace, ready to floo home. Peter went first, the flames turning green and him disappearing up the chimney. Then it was Remus's turn. He glanced at Mrs. Potter - but then decided he didn't quite dare say "sorry". He looked at Sirius. 'It's only for a week,' he mumbled. He looked back at James' parents. 'Thanks for having…' The looks on their faces made the words die on his lips. It was obviously not good manners to thank your hosts for their hospitality after you nearly burned their house down. Sometimes saying nothing was the more polite route.

He cast his handful of floo powder into the flames, stepped into the fireplace and said his address out loud. As the flames turned green and he was swept away, he got one last look at Sirius's misery, Mrs. Potter's anger and then James - totally unabashed and ebullient as ever. 'See you next week!' James called out, waving madly - and then Remus was home.