A Very Sirius Day
There are some days so bad, so tedious, and so nerve-wracking that it’s better to just sleep right though them. One Sirius Black thought that these days generally don’t happen to people as dashing, smart and all in all brilliant as him (modesty was not one of his strong suits, though). Unfortunately for him, fate did not share his views on life. Also, fate was a right bitch with a twisted sense of humour.
Sirius was sleeping soundly in his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory unaware of the surprises that the cruel thing called life was keeping in hand for him. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and since he (quite surprisingly) didn’t have a date with a girl, he was going to sleep in.
So much for sleeping in then. There were few things in the world that could wake you up faster than Lily Evans screaming at James Potter. Sirius couldn’t think of any at the moment. How his best mate managed to anger her so early in the morning, he had no idea, but it was an immutable fact of life that James could bring Lily to hysterical anger by simply sitting quietly in the next room.
Ah... Degradable underwear. At least no one could blame James for lack of creativity. And zeal. Somehow, even though he was awaken by screams and a punch in the nose from a red-haired monster, he was enthusiastically planning and hand waving in front of an annoyed Sirius, a sleepy Peter and an all around furious Remus.
“Hey guys, do you think that since we are both awake so early Lily will go with me to Hogsmeade?” She didn’t. “I think I am finally making progress with her!” He wasn’t. “And it’s such a nice day outside!” It... you can probably guess.
Since James failed in his plan to acquire a date with Lily for the day, he decided to drag his best friends around Hogsmeade instead. Needless to say, they were not amused. Sirius was still moping that he was awaken so unpleasantly, Remus insisted that he needed to catch up on studying (did this boy do anything else lately?) and Peter was just lazy. Not to mention that the weather was awful – apparently Scottish rain was determined to show those sissy equatorial jungle rains what real rain was made of. Consequently, there was mud everywhere.
“James, are you sure that we really need to visit every single shop today?” asked Remus annoyed.
“Moony, my dearest, I need some out of the box thinking to catch Lily’s attention. I am looking for inspiration.” Sirius snarled at that - James rather needed a bit of “in-the-box” thinking. Anything more out of the box for him and he would be sent to the loony bin. Unfortunately for James, he had long ago discarded his box, stepped on it, burned it and probably hexed it into oblivion.
“Let’s at least go for a bit to the Three Broomsticks. Maybe a Butterbeer and something to eat could help?" pushed Remus.
“Make it a Firewhiskey and I’m in,” said Sirius.
While James was ordering Butterbeers, Peter the damn rat managed to sneak away from the Three Broomsticks and go back to Hogwarts. Sirius tried to persuade Remus that was really the best idea ever and they should use the chance and do the same. However, Remus being the gentle soul of the group said that they couldn’t leave James alone.
“And then, I will save her and sweep her off her feet!”
Sirius poked Remus – “I told you we should have just bailed.”
“I realise that now. I don’t know what’s going on with him today. You were right,” said Remus exasperated.
“Of course I was right. I am always right. And I like to hear you say it. Actually, I can listen to it for days,” added Sirius. ‘But really, didn’t Remus know better – trying to distract James when he was in one of his Lily-rant moods was as useful as putting smoke detection charms in Hell.’
1:00 p.m., Gryffindor common room
“Prongs, really? Quidditch training? On a Hogsmeade weekend? Are you mental, mate?” (There was a long-lasting debate amongst the male population of Hogwarts whether James Potter was, in fact, bat-shit crazy. On the other side of the debate, most girls were adamant that as long he didn’t drop below a certain hotness line, he was perfectly fine.)
“The match with Slytherin is in a month!!! We have to kick their asses for real this time, it’s our last chance to do it!!!” Sirius did not know whether to be more concerned about the obvious triple explanation mark in James’ voice or by his manic grin that could put even the creepiest Cheshire cat to shame.
Disgruntled, he and the other Gryffindor players made for the Quidditch pitch (though ‘sprinted for’ probably fits better. To this day, Sirius swears that their quick pace was only 10% unspoken terror of James).
“What do you mean ‘You are not swinging the bat gracefully enough, Sirius?’ How can a bat be swung gracefully?! And more importantly – why? I was always under the impression that the necessary qualities for a beater were strength and precision but I seem to have missed the memo that being a ballerina was also required!”
“You see,” started James smugly. “A certain... gracefulness to the swing can do exactly that – add to the precision of your hit. It’s a tested strategy.” Sirius loved his best mate as a brother, but the only thing that he wanted to test at this exact moment was how much damage his bat could deliver to James’ face. He did not know what his friend was on that day, but he sure as hell wanted to find out – so that he would never come in contact with it. Never. Ever. Ever.
Meanwhile, James had resumed screaming at their teammates and was also pointing frantically at different key position points around the Quidditch pitch. Like a true madman. The manic glint in his eyes combined with his battle cry “Staaaaaart!”could probably make even Voldemort himself suck on his thumb and go cry in the corner of the pitch asking for his stuffed toy Fluffy...
More hours later...
Sirius didn’t know how much time has passed during their Quidditch practice. Was that how time was supposed to pass normally? ‘Really slow? In agonizing pain?’
After what seemed like forever, practice was finally over and Sirius made his way to the Gryffindor tower so that he could take a shower and (preferably) die quietly in his bed. No such luck. Halfway to the tower, he remembered that they had a long essay in Potions on the topic of beautifying potions. Why did he need this information anyway? He was handsome and charming enough, he needed to be exempted from the assignment on these grounds alone. He wondered whether the old walrus Slughorn would buy this excuse. ‘Yeah... better get a book from the library.’
People were often the impression that Sirius didn’t study at all and got good grades by using his charm alone. That was not case. Of course, he was not a study freak like Evans, but he had to open and read through a book once in a while. Actually, Sirius quite liked reading. That’s why when browsing through the library, he took not only the suspiciously titled potion’s book “A Chemically Modified Witch – a Beautiful Witch”, but also some light reading – “The Warlock and the Dark Tower of Doom” by Balthazar King. Surely, it was not the pinnacle of wizarding literature, but he liked the light-hearted adventures of the young warlock Dorlin. Not that anyone would be judging hischoice of reading. They wouldn’t even see it – he was going straight to the dorms now.
“Hey, Padfoot,” Sirius heard his name called. He turned around and saw Remus studying at one of the tables in the library.
“So that’s where you were hiding while James was practicing being a tyrant on the Quidditch team. Oh wait... he actually didn’t need practice... he has already perfected it.”
Remus chuckled softly. “He only means well... I think. Do you want to go to dinner? I lost track of the time, but it’s 6.45 and it will be over in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?! That’s it – James is officially a dead man!”
For once Sirius was glad that he James, Remus, Evans (surprisingly) and very few other people were present at dinner. He was exhausted and covered with mud from the Quidditch practice, so he didn’t want people to see him at his worst. Or maybe seeing him like this would further cement his image of a charming roguish type? He actually considered showering and going for a snack in the kitchens later, but was so tired that even his vanity seemed to have left the room. Maybe it joined his spirit and will to live, which have been long gone. They were probably already turning in their graves.
Naturally, it wasn’t a quiet dinner – it never was when James and Lily were occupying close spaces of the same room (or the same room, period).
“POTTER, I swear, if you mention one more time the “underwear incident”, you will become an EX-PERSON!”
“Reading Balthazar King, huh?” Sirius was startled by the voice of Leila Crowley, the pretty and exceptionally clever Ravenclaw prefect. She had entered the Great Hall and unfortunately decided to have a little chat with Evans at their table. Also, she apparently saw his pile of books.
‘I knew I should have taken some more smart-ass book with me! Now the last chance to at least seem like the intellectual type is gone,’ he thought.
Let me clarify. Sirius was not one to have trouble getting a girl. It was more like – he had trouble getting rid of girls. He went through girls like one generally went through parchments in McGonagall’s class. But in his mind Leila was different –he compared her a bit to Snow White with her dark hair and white skin (a more poetically inclined person would describe her hair as chestnut ebony and her skin as porcelain or ivory. However, Sirius was a “manly” man and as such he stuck to the traditional male colour palette – black, white, green, blue, yellow, red and disgustingly pink). Granted, maybe Leila’s lips were a bit too thin and her face a bit too round... for Sirius, she was perfect.
But she was also smart and serious and Sirius thought that she would never go for a “type” like him. So, he decided that he could make himself more of her “type” (in his teenage boy mind that apparently meant – “read smart-ass books”). And now, that was ruined. Not to mention that he looked and smelled like he was attacked by an armada of garden gnomes...
At least, his mashed potatoes were very tasty. Now that Sirius thought about it, they had a bit of a weird aftertaste... But the others also ate from them. At the very least he was going to die together with his friends and according to that guy Shakespeare that was supposed to be romantic or something.
Still alive and a shower later Sirius decided that he was going to do the Unspeakable and go to bed at 8:00 in the evening. It was a deed done only by old ladies with cats, infants and worst of all – Peter, but after the Hogsmeade trip and James’ diabolical Quidditch practice it was the only thing he wanted, no... dreamed of. When his head touched the soft pillow of his bed, all his worries seemed to wash away until...
“POTTER!!! WHAT IN THE SWEET NAME OF MERLIN HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BED?!”
Author's Note: This story was just a bit of fun on my part, I always wanted to torture the Marauders a bit (in good spirit of course). If you feel like it, you can leave me a review, it will make me very happy. Cheers :)