Sirius had always been a bad kid.
He had never been good enough for his parents. As a kid, he'd been subjected to endless hours of lessons – he had to learn French, their family tree, and all the manners that he needed to exist in pureblood society. His parents dragged him from one event to another, where he would try to get along with kids his own age – Malfoy, Avery, Wilkes. They all blended together for him, and Sirius could still never get the family tree right. He was bright, but he just never cared enough to memorize it.
Maybe if his parents had been different, Sirius would've taken these lessons differently. He used to try more, when he was younger. The most he ever got from them was an approving nod, but never words of encouragement. They would shake their heads when he messed up, like they were expecting him to fail. They would discipline him if he did badly enough. They yelled often. Sometimes they hit him, but not often, and never too hard – at least when he was younger.
Most of the rest of his family was like his parents, lacking any real warmth. He liked his cousin Andromeda, who was six years older than him. His parents never had anything good to say about her, but she was always the kindest to Sirius, much nicer than her sisters Narcissa and Bellatrix ever were. He remembered Andromeda going off to Hogwarts and his parents calling her a blood traitor, promising to blast her off of the family tree one day. They told him not to associate with the likes of her when he went off to school.
He didn't fully buy into the blood purist ideology they spouted. Andromeda seemed too good to fit all the negative things they said about her, and even the half-bloods that they ran into while running errands with his parents never seemed that bad to Sirius. But he knew not to argue with his parents, especially about blood purism. He'd only questioned them once or twice about it, and it hadn't gone very well for him.
Regulus seemed to know better than him when it came to their parents. Regulus always looked at his parents with eyes full of trust, and he seemed to do everything perfectly. Although Sirius was a year older than him, Regulus was better at nearly everything than Sirius, except maybe early magic. But Regulus's manners, his French, his standing with the family, his behavior – he did everything right. He even knew all the unspoken rules that he had to follow, things that took Sirius weeks to realize.
Sirius went off to school, and in his parents' eyes, he became an even worse kid.
It wasn't like a switch was flipped, and Sirius was able to just forget everything his parents had told him overnight. Sirius still remembered the look on James's face the first time he'd used the m-word around him. He slipped a couple more times after that, but he made a conscious effort to stop using language like that. Every time he talked to another Muggleborn or half-blood, it was more proof that his parents had been wrong. His parents would've called James a blood traitor, would've called Remus and Peter half-blood filth. Sirius was certain now, more than ever, how wrong they were. He almost never wrote to his parents, because he didn't know what he would've said to them. But it didn't matter, because so many of his relatives were still in school with him, and Narcissa told her parents everything that Sirius was doing.
His parents started yelling even more when he went home from school, and Sirius stopped going home for winter break by his third year. He dreaded the summers, and the summer after his third year, he couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't just sit by as his parents went on about how Andromeda had contaminated the family by marrying a Muggle-born. His parents were awful, and he finally snapped at them one night over dinner. He got into his first real argument with them about blood purism, and it ended with his mother throwing her dinner plate at his head. It was all downhill from there, and Sirius started spending weeks at a time at the Potters' residence instead.
The Potters were kinder than Sirius could ever have asked for. They had a tenderness that Sirius had never experienced at home, even when he was younger. They hugged him when they saw him, and worried about him when he wasn't there. They celebrated birthdays with him and praised him when he got into all the N.E.W.T. level classes he needed to continue with Auror training. They never once made him feel like he had overstayed his welcome, and they treated him like another son.
The summer after Sirius's fifth year, he lasted about three days at home.
His parents had started hexing him whenever he talked back, and it never took long for Sirius to say something they found a little too out-of-bounds. Sirius sometimes counted in his head how long he could tolerate listening to either one of them before he inevitably snapped back (his record was 384 seconds). Sirius was no longer able to have conversations with his parents, or even make idle chit chat with them. He had two choices. He could either listen, in silence, as his parents talked about what a disappointment he was, and the importance of keeping bloodlines pure. Or, they could have a full-fledged screaming competition, loaded with curse words and intermingled with jinxes.
When his parents yelled, Sirius yelled back. When they jinxed or hit him, Sirius didn't reciprocate. But that summer, when he lifted his wand to use a Shield Charm, he decided to send a curse back to his father. And at the age of sixteen, Sirius had his first duel outside of school. He lost to the combined force of his parents, who seemed to decide that the physical punishment that they had doled out in the past was far too lenient for their troublesome son.
When they were finished, Sirius packed up his stuff and disappeared to the Potters' for good, his body aching with bruises and the remnants of cruel magic. He got a Howler from his parents, and that was the last he ever heard from them. Sirius was dead to them, and he was better for it. He knew that his parents had always been a negative influence on him. Just being around them made him rash and angry, and sometimes even a little violent. He was a different person at home, completely unlike the Sirius at school. At school, he was playful and bright, and well liked at Hogwarts.
Even from his first year, Sirius noticed the way that girls acted around him. He noticed the way they stopped, mid-conversation, and whispered to each other, their eyes still trained on him. He quickly learned that all the skills he used to converse with his boring aunts were particularly useful now. They doted on him, and by the time he was fourteen or fifteen, he didn't even have to try much anymore. When he was fourteen, he also tried firewhiskey for the first time, and he loved it.
When he was fifteen, he met Daisy Hookum, and began buying weed from her weekly.
He liked the numbness and the escape that it gave him, and he began craving it. When he ran out, he'd resort to nicotine or firewhiskey – whichever was closer or cheaper. He started having sex when he was fifteen, too. And for Sirius, fifth year was mostly a haze as he experimented with sex and drugs, and drifted a bit from his friends, who didn't share his inclinations. Sirius didn't try to convince them to, either. He figured he was probably the bad influence, and there was no point in dragging his friends down with him.
Sirius didn't like being sober, unless it was a full moon night. He not only wanted, but needed, all his senses on full alert when he transformed, and those weeks were his saving grace that year. No substance and no girl ever held a candle to how he felt when he was on an adventure with his friends. Peter was like a best friend. James was like his brother and his family, all wrapped in one. And Remus… well, Sirius was still sorting Remus out.
"I'm ready," Sirius said in a singsong voice, sauntering into James's room where all his friends were gathered. He triumphantly held up a little plastic bag with green in it, ready to feed his addiction.
"That reminds me, Greta said she would pick up something from Hookum for me," Peter said. "How much do you think it'd be?"
"No clue," Sirius said. "Daisy gives it to me for almost nothing. But I can ask, if you want."
"Right, I forgot you're getting the 'I'm sleeping with my drug dealer' discount," Peter said, rolling his eyes.
Sirius shrugged. "I'm as broke as broke gets, but I have my priorities in line. How many handles of firewhiskey do you guys have for tonight?" he asked.
"I only brought one," James said absently, prodding through his trunk. "Weird. Where are my books?"
"We're supposed to be having a party!" Sirius protested. "Prongs, come on. You knew Filch wouldn't have caught us coming in with firewhiskey."
"Party? I thought just a couple seventh years were coming for drinks," Remus said.
"Yeah, just a couple," Sirius said quickly.
Remus gave him a pointed look. Sirius winked at him.
"People are going to start showing up soon, and I haven't finished unpacking," James grumbled. He was standing on his bed, trying and failing to hang up a Puddlemere United poster. He took a step back from the lopsided poster and frowned. "Does that look straight to you?" he asked.
"Um, no. Not even close," Peter said, standing up to help. Remus and Sirius didn't bother moving from their spots. "Move it about six inches up on the right."
Sirius didn't seem too bothered by the fact that everything he owned was still in his trunk. He was sitting at James's desk and packing a bowl to smoke, while Remus sat on the floor with a cup of tea, combing through a book. He seemed in and out of their conversation.
"You know, this would go faster if you'd help," James said, as he unloaded his clothes from his trunk to his dresser. He dropped a trail of clothes along the way.
"I would, but I don't want to," Sirius said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. "Are the rest of you unpacked?"
"We all hung out in Moony's room and he unpacked first. Now we're here," Peter said.
"Sounds codependent," Sirius said. "You know, this would go faster if we did it separately," he said, mimicking James's tone.
"Are you really going to lecture us about unhealthy relationships?" James asked dryly.
"I don't think I'm capable of a lecture," Sirius said, exhaling through his nose. "Ahh," he breathed, leaning back in the chair. "It's been so long. You have no idea how many cigarettes I had to smoke over the summer."
"I do," James said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Almost a pack a day."
"You let him smoke a pack a day?" Remus asked, frowning.
"Let him?" James asked incredulously, as Sirius laughed good-naturedly. "Padfoot barely even listens to me at Quidditch practice. He's on a slow march towards death, and there's nothing any of us can do about it."
"Aw, you sound like you've given up on me," Sirius said playfully. "Moony's given up on me for years, and now you? I'm heartbroken."
"No, I've tried," Remus said, sounding quite serious. "Unfortunately, you keep worming your way back."
"I'll take that," Sirius said cheerfully. There was a knock on the door, and Sirius sat up a bit straighter, like a dog perking up its ears. However, he didn't move.
"I'm mid smoke. Somebody else get it," Sirius said. "Nose goes." He put his finger on his nose, but his friends ignored the game.
"I'm unpacking," James said. "You get it."
"I don't want to hang out with whoever is showing up this early," Sirius said. He looked over at Remus, but Remus seemed intent on his book. Sirius was sure that he was just pretending, because Remus always seemed to be able to tune in during important conversations.
"You lot are the laziest people I've ever met," Peter said, rolling his eyes.
"Thanks, Wormtail!" Sirius called after Peter, as he disappeared out of James's room into the common area. Unfortunately for Peter, he now seemed relegated to the tedious job of opening the door for the next hour, as people slowly arrived. Sirius only wandered out after about a dozen people showed up, and he had found a good high. They had thrown much bigger parties last year, but after a couple of them got out of hand, they all agreed to take it down a notch. More than anything, it was just too much cleaning, and Sirius hated cleaning.
Sirius scanned the crowd, wondering who he should go talk to. He saw Mary Macdonald with Amelia Bones and Charity Burbage, and thought back to the plan that they'd made on the train. A drink in hand, he walked over to their group. He often saw Mary at the same parties, and he figured that she was much more likely to be open to talking to him than Evans or McKinnon.
"Sirius," Amelia said, not sounding thrilled to see him. They hadn't ended their relationship on the best terms, but she still accepted the hug Sirius offered her. He gave one to Charity as well before turning to Mary expectantly, as though waiting for her to get up to give him a hug as well. However, she remained seated, only giving him a deadpan, empty smile in greeting.
"Your drink's almost empty," Sirius said to her. "I've got a stash in my room. Want to walk with me?"
Mary hesitated, actually glancing over at her friends. She was either confused or seeking confirmation from them, although both were more likely. Mary certainly knew about Amelia's past with Sirius, and Sirius realized that asking Mary back to his room seemed a bit suspicious.
"Sure," Mary said slowly, although she seemed uncertain. She got up, apparently in no hurry.
"No funny business," Sirius said, grazing Amelia's arm with his hand. "Back in a second."
"How was your summer?" Sirius asked, as they two of them walked off, taking his time. He looked over at Mary, but her face was unreadable to him. If anything, she just looked calculating, but even Sirius had to admit she was astoundingly pretty.
"Eventful," Mary said, which was about as vague of an answer as possible. "Yours?"
"Was it?" Sirius asked. "Mine wasn't very eventful, although I would've liked it to be. There's a lot going on nowadays, especially if you're reading the Muggle papers."
Mary's expression didn't change. "Didn't have you pegged as somebody who reads newspapers," was all she said.
"Just wanted to see if you knew anything about what's going on," Sirius said. "Or about the counter strikes."
Mary's eyes darted to either side, but they were in the hallway now, almost at Sirius's room. There were only a handful of people within earshot, but she grabbed him by the forearm, with much more force than he would've expected from somebody her size. She kept her face set in a mask, and even her tone didn't change much, except to take on a warning as she asked, "What are you doing?"
Sirius snatched his hand out of her vice-like grip. He opened the door to his room, and just as quickly, closed it after them. "Just starting a conversation," he answered easily, deliberately not matching the intensity of Mary's tone. They weren't friends, and she had no reason to trust him. He wouldn't have expected her to trust him so quickly.
He crossed over to his desk, which was devoid of school supplies, and only contained a couple bottles of various liquor. And true to his word, Sirius poured drinks for the two of them, as well as for Amelia and Charity. Since he clearly wasn't in Mary's good graces, he'd likely need to stay in Amelia's.
"I'm not having this conversation with you," Mary said.
"See, now that makes it sound like you know something," Sirius said, venturing further. Mary said nothing.
"We want to help," Sirius insisted.
"And you think I'm going to help with that?" Mary asked dubiously. "Vouch for you all, risk my own neck for people I'm not sure I can trust?"
"Don't you need all the help you can get? Voldemort's army is getting bigger by the day," Sirius pushed. He took a sip of rum, straight from the bottle.
"This isn't something you can join because you fancy it looks fun and dangerous, like skydiving," Mary said scathingly, her arms crossed. "Anyways, it's not like I'm the gatekeeper, so you're wasting your time by talking to me about it."
"It's not a passing fancy for me," Sirius said sharply, his temper suddenly flaring. "I gave up everything because my parents were blood purists. You think I'm doing this for fun? For street cred?"
Mary's gaze didn't soften, but she uncrossed her arms and sighed.
"Nobody in school is allowed to join," she finally said. "You keep doing whatever it is you and your friends are doing. I trust that you hate the Slytherins. You can build from there, but it's not like you fill out an application with your progressive credentials." With that, she picked up the two drinks and made her way to the door.
When she got there, Sirius had not moved. Mary raised an eyebrow at him. "You coming?"
Sirius sighed. This conversation had not gone at all the way he was hoping, and it looked like Mary would be harder to crack than he thought.
"Yeah. Right behind you."