HP Valensmut Mod (hpvs_mod) wrote in hpvalensmut, @ 2009-02-12 18:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009, fic, james/lily, james/remus, james/remus/sirius, james/sirius |
Gift for mariamme: Eight Times Sirius Threatened To Move Out (James/Remus, James/Sirius, J/R/S)
Title: Eight Times Sirius Threatened To Move Out
Author: gala_apples
Recipient: mariamme
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 10 376
Pairing: vague insinuated James/Lily. James/Remus. James/Sirius. James/Remus/Sirius.
Warnings: AU, as Lily is out of the picture for no real reason. Also, Peter is potrayed as not-an-evil-arsehole, because they were friends with him for a long time, and you wouldn't be friends with someone obviously evil. Purposeful tense switching, realistic sex, more character development then smut. pg13 rated underage interaction.
Summary: Mariamme wanted 'a history of interactions that continue outside of Hogwarts'. Basically, a series of key moments in Sirius Black's life.
Disclaimers: the characters and anything else you recognise belong to JK Rowling.
Notes: timeline notes- Peter, James and Sirius discuss around April of year two, Remus doesn't tell them where he goes until December year three, they follow him January year three. He moves in with James in the summer of year six, and the Shrieking Shack incident happens in year seven.
From your kink list I tried for ust and awkward realistic sex, learning about each other, and one partner not really thinking of the relationship as dating. It's the longest fest fic I've ever written, at least five times longer, and I hope you love it!
Year One
'It just goes from bad to worse' Sirius thinks. He isn't much of a sigher, his house-elf Litty does all the time and it bothers him. But if he was willing to override the need to not sound stupid, he'd sigh so hard his lungs would hurt.
First he didn't get his own carriage on the train. Sirius had hauled his trunks onto the train, and promised mother and father to keep up appearances. He'd felt a bit scared, but knew to suffer in silence and not shame his name by crying, or demanding a hug. Once on the train, he had stretched out on one side of his compartment, a volume of poetry in hand. The flowing words had begun to soothe his soul when the compartment door opened. Two older blonde girls had walked into his compartment, and when he had told them it was his, they told him to shut his gob! If Litty had said that, mother would have made her iron her hands!
Then to his absolute horror, he'd been sorted into Gryffindor. He'd pleaded with the sorting hat, explained that he couldn't be one of the namby pamby blood traitor morons (not that he really knew what it meant, only that it was bad). The hat had explained back that while he had the thirst for knowledge becoming of a Ravenclaw, and loyalty to Regulus and Litty befitting of a Hufflepuff, there wasn't an ambitious bone in his body. Sirius had cried out in his head 'I have the ambition to not have my mother and father hate me!' but the hat had screamed Gryffindor, and his fate was sealed.
He'd barely eaten, scraping the tines of the fork along his plate and getting dirty looks from the evil Gryffindors. Now he's starving, stomach rumbling as he lies on his bed with his arms folded over his chest. The fat boy next to him hears it, and after taking a bite of his amber coloured chocolate, holds it up in an offering to Sirius. He refuses it, closing his eyes against the silent intrusion. Not only are they morons, they apparently also don't have a clue about healthiness.
After being sorted improperly, he followed the prefect with the other students. He'd been taken through a confusing maze of staircases and hallways, and forgot every turn as soon as it was made. And then the door to his bedroom had opened. It was a nice sized bedroom, about the same size as his bedroom at home. But there was a clear problem; there were four beds. As Sirius stood in the doorway, one boy pushed him aside and two others followed. They each clamoured onto a bed. It slowly sunk in that he was expected to share a room with others.
He sat on the last bed, then laid with his arms crossed. His father always told him that those who complain can only see short, and Blacks see long. He had to stay calm until he knew how to change his position. Perhaps if he went to speak to Dumbledore in the morning?
He opens his eyes again to observe those who he hopes to be rid of soon. The fat boy is still eating. A boy with black hair is tossing Gobstones into the air and catching them with a smirk. The last, a skinny scarred boy is also just lying on his bed. As Sirius considers talking to him, as he seems the only one with the proper attitude, the boy sighs. Sirius winces and stands. He digs through his trunk at the foot of his bed. He needs to read, poetry will soothe him.
He's only halfway through the Divine Comedy when a Gobstone goes flying, and lands on his pillowcase. "Ooo, er. Sorry 'bout that. Toss it back, will you?" Sirius ignores the order and reads another line. He hears the sigh and the clomp of feet as the boy gets up, but Sirius refuses to look up.
"Is that... poetry?" the voice sounds shocked and if Sirius looked up he knows the Gryffindor moron would have a smirk on his face. "Gods, could you be any more queer?"
A torrent of rage boils up from Sirius' gut. At home Regulus got a spanking if he teased Sirius about poetry or anything else because teasing was a silly behaviour unfit for a Black. At home Litty liked being read the flowing words. At home he'd have his own room, uncluttered by others.
"I HATE this place. I'm moving out!" Sirius shouts and grabs his pillow and blanket. He shoves the boy standing beside him, and storms out of the room. Only when he's out of the Gryffindor area does he realise he has nowhere to go.
Year Two
Sirius waits until the night Remus is 'visiting his aunt' to talk to Peter and James. While normally everything off the top of his head comes out of his mouth, even observations about those in the room, this is different. This is something that could hurt a friend, and he still remembers the sorting hat telling him he was strong with loyalty for those he loved.
He sends a note-bird flying at James. He reads it and nods, and nudges Peter. They follow him up the stairs to their dorm.
"Do you have plans for Severus?" Peter asks eagerly. Since the lanky boy had mocked Peter's exploding cauldron last year, things had spiralled out of control. Sirius and James and Remus made fun of Peter's abysmal potions skills, but it wasn't okay for someone else to do it. What had started as a revenge prank had somehow turned into an ugly war, and it scares Sirius a little bit how much fun it is. He and the rest are united in a cause, and when they turn Severus' hair blue, he feels like he has brothers that don't hate him for being sorted into the wrong house.
"While I understand the need for secrecy, don't want to spoil the audience, did it have to be right now? I wanted to talk to Lily."
"Lily'll never talk to you. She thinks you're an imbecile." Peter laughs.
"How do you know? Are you a mind reader?"
"Because she said so when you threw your Honeydukes wrapper at Severus in Charms." James looks so pouty Sirius can't help but laugh. Peter jostles him as they all sit on his bed, and it's the easy happiness that brings Sirius back to his thoughts. He doesn't know if they even know about their friend, but it's either say something now or have something happen later.
"Does it bother either of you that Remus is a werewolf?" the answer needs to be no. Sirius has no idea what he'll do if there's a problem, only knows that the solution will hurt. He sucks in a breath, and waits for them to reply.
"Nah. My uncle, at least he used to be, now he's disowned, he got disowned for falling in love with a centaur. Like Scamander says, the definition of beast keeps changing."
Peter's not always the best for coherency, so as always Sirius tries to mash his jumble of words into normal sentences. Paraphrasing is something they all learned to do very quickly to help Peter in every day conversation. "What you're saying is even though werewolves are considered beasts by many, they've changed the definition several times, and so you don't care that Remus is technically a beast."
"And that you can love beasts because they're only beasts to the people that would rather define things then be around them." Peter adds. Sirius can't quite agree, Peter and Hagrid are on the same Chimeras Would Make Good Pets vibe he doesn't have. But in this case he knows what Peter's saying, that there's nothing wrong with being friends with a 'beast'. One down, one to go.
"You think so too then?" James has that voice, the quavery Can I Go Home Now voice everyone gets sometimes at Hogwarts.
"Yeah. But I mean, he's obviously going away somewhere when it's the moon. So we're safe." Sirius tries to soothe James, wishing that poetry worked for others.
"Besides, it's not like he's going to hurt us."
"Well, he probably would. If he was still a werewolf at the time. He'd have those claws and teeth and he'd probably go for the neck, because that's the bloodiest part." Sometimes Sirius wants to strangle Peter. Talking about the horrible qualities of werewolves when James is on the verge of panicking about werewolves is not the best way to make James calm down. "But he's probably locked up somewhere. On a collar or something."
And it's strange, because what Sirius thinks of as a safety precaution, and Peter meant as a simple fact, James takes total offence to. "You think they lock him up? Chain him to the wall like he's an animal?"
"Well, he is."
Sirius thuwaps Peter on the side of the head as James gets rolling towards throwing a fit. It's like some sort of Midas touch from the god of foot-in-your-mouth. At least five times a day Peter says something completely wrong.
"He is not an animal! He is a wizard! He is a human being, and they have no right to chain him up! It's not his fault he's different. That's crap!" James is standing, pacing, and not for the first time Sirius wishes at least a few of the lessons he was taught about decorum were taught to every kid. Angry and upset gives him migraines.
"If you don't stop screaming I'm moving out!" Sirius finally shouts over James, five minutes into his tirade. Peter giggles for some reason, but it stops James. In the momentary silence, Peter speaks.
"We should probably talk to Remus, huh. So he can know we know, and that we don't care. Because we don't, right?"
"No, we don't." Sirius says firmly. James doesn't look as sure, but they can work on that.
Year Three
"Why are you so goddamn tall?" Sirius mutters. Peter's been growing widthwise since he's known him, not surprising considering the never-ending sweets in his hands. This lengthwise is new though, he's shot up like a blade of grass recently. Not only is it disheartening to see a boy with a babyface tall as a giant while they stay short, it also causes logistical problems. James and Sirius notice their feet sticking out of the Invisibility Cloak, and can only pray that no one comes across them.
"Dunno."
"Both of you shut up!" James demands. They're nearly out of Hogwarts, and Sirius knows they still have a long trek, but he can't help but feel hopeful.
Sirius had woken up the day after Christmas to an owl beating itself to death on his window trying to get in. Sirius never slept with open windows, Grimmauld was cold enough without a winter wind. Litty had ran for the catch, after all these years still terrified the older child would act as cruel as the younger. She'd given him the letter, and the owl had flown away, two more letters still tied to its claw. The nearly incomprehensive scrawl he'd immediately recognised as James' was short and to the point. got the best thing ever from grandpa for Christmas. you will die of jealousy. long live Marauders!
He'd waited impatiently for days, annoyed with the sure knowledge that Remus and Peter weren't feeling nearly as antsy as himself. They weren't the type to care about James' bragging. His parents, who had been much more restrictive with his behaviour after being classified as a Gryffindor had picked up on his impatience immediately. Impatience was another virtue only held by simpletons, Muggle-lovers and Gryffindors, and Sirius was not to show it.
Once back from the holidays, Sirius had nearly tackled James for the information. James had merely pointed to his trunk and told him to take a look. Tossing crumpled pants and trousers in the air, he finally snapped, saying he couldn't see anything new. James replied that was the point, and had draped a pile of smooth feeling nothingness over Sirius' arms. When it sunk in, Sirius was ecstatic. A freakin Invisibility Cloak! They could prank the world with that tool in their arsenal!
It had made everything easier, and now they're sneaking out of Hogwarts for the first time with the cloak. It's a huge relief to know they could be in the same hallway as McGonagall and not get caught.
Halfway up the trail, Sirius asks again "you're sure he said the Shrieking Shack?"
"You heard it, I heard it, he heard it, because that's what he said." Peter almost sounds bored.
They're silent on their slow jog to Hogsmeade. If it was just himself, he'd be running. Or himself and James. But Peter wants to come too, and Peter's much too fat to run anywhere. They finally get to the small village, and it looks different in the middle of the night. Instead of warm orange candlelight inside the store windows, cold blue moonlight only makes the windows seem darker.
The Shrieking Shack is haunted, everyone knew that. Except now Sirius knows the truth. And the truth turns the small ramshackle hovel from a creepy haunted building to a heart rending haunting building. A heat burns in his stomach, moving upwards to his chest. For a moment his vision turns shades of red, then the red seems to sink into his chest, adding more flame.
The Invisibility Cloak comes off and falls to the ground as James bolts a few feet. He bends over and vomits, and Sirius wants to feel bad for James, but his empathy circuit is currently overloaded. Peter has a mammoth hand over his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. And Sirius just stands there.
"It's different when it's not Scamander." Sirius doesn't bother to paraphrase, but he knows what Peter means. You can read about the claws, the teeth, the pain of transformation. But it's just a book, just another piece of information like grindylows have long fingers, or Martin Miggs doesn't like to wear socks. But it's not a book, it's Remus, and he's screaming.
"We have to be here next month" James says, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "We have to break in in the morning, and be here before Pomfrey takes him back."
Sirius almost wishes Remus hadn't told them where he goes. Six months of pestering for the crucial bit of information, and Remus hadn't told them. He had maintained it wasn't safe to tell them, they'd do something stupid, get themselves hurt. Two years of friendship, and the only thing Remus refused to tell them about his life was the most important part. Lost of where to go, but knowing they needed to know more, Peter, James, and Sirius had spent the entire night every month wandering the dungeons, hoping to find the room Dumbledore chained him up in.
But now they know, and knowing hurts. This Shack can't hold Remus, because Remus is just a boy with 'a furry little problem' as James calls it, a boy with an unfair disease. This Shack can't hold Remus, because this shack is holding someone that's in the most pain in the world, and that can't be Remus.
"The door's not going to open with an alohomora." It's just a statement, and if Sirius didn't know that Peter gets deadly calm when he's on the verge of exploding, he'd think he doesn't care.
"We'll find a different way." James sounds like he's going to beat them over the head if they even try to say no. Sirius can't think of saying no, he can't see how not helping Remus is a possibility. He won't offer the information until they've exhausted all other possibilities, but he's read that lone werewolves suffer more pain then ones with mates. If they can't help Remus in another way, he'll get himself bitten. He's willing to be scarred to help him, willing to chance dying. Maybe Hufflepuff was right, but if he was in that house, he wouldn't have James and Peter and Remus to be loyal to.
"We could learn to apparate?" he knows that they shouldn't learn until they're 17, but rules don't matter to Blacks, only getting caught. If they're smart enough to never use it, they won't get caught. A sound like thunder rips through the air, and the shack shudders. It's followed up by a howl, and Sirius too feels like vomiting. If it hurts this much to be outside the building, what's it going to be like next month when they actually see Remus, still bleeding?
"We know there are three passageways out of Hogwarts besides the front door, there has to be one for here. Because if Remus can't apparate and the door doesn't open, how else does he get in?" Sometimes Sirius loves Peter's brilliant erratic mind.
"I want to move out here." once the words are out he doesn't know what to do with them. He doesn't even really know what he means.
"What? Why?" James asks.
"I don't know. I think I mean that if I lived in Hogsmeade I would be closer to him, and he needs somebody to be close." God, he sounds like Peter.
"We don't need to live here to be close to him, we just need to do something. We need to find a passageway to the Shrieking Shack before next month. And we need to do research to find out when exactly the moon stops having an effect. When it's the wolf screaming, and when it's him because... because he tore something or broke something in the night." and James looks ill again, and Peter looks away and mutters Oh God, and Sirius doesn't know what to do.
Year Four
Sirius doesn't know how to react to what he's seeing. His mind is falling into fragments, all arguing with one another. The Black pride talking of the impropriety, but the Black passion remembering cousin Bella kissing a girl just because she wanted to. The masculinity demanding this be disgusting, the truth pointing out he's getting hard. The need for this to be fake, a dream, the urge to continue watching.
With his thoughts in shambles, he turns and runs. Fleeing the hall is the only way to fix this, if he can't see it he doesn't have to think about it. Common sense blanks out with the rest of his brain functions, except the basic ones that keep him breathing. Instead of going to the library, or Moaning Myrtle's loo, or somewhere else he could be alone, he finds himself back in the common room, surrounded by people that are laughing and smiling and wanting to talk, as he's falling apart. Already Peter is smiling and waving him down.
Peter snaps off a square of white chocolate and offers it to Sirius. Sirius doesn't take it, he doesn't think he can breathe and chew and think at the same time without overloading. "Did James and Remus find you?"
He doesn't know how to answer that. "It's a lot more like I found them."
"Well, that's good then. They weren't sure which detention you were serving first, but I told them to nick you food because God knows I'm not to be trusted." Peter says sarcastically, then laughs. It's a running joke that if Peter goes for the midnight raids, he'll come back with an apple core and half a burnt bun.
Sirius wonders if they meant for him to see it. They were standing right there; they had to have known that they were visible. Remus had still been wearing the uniform of tie, brown slacks and a pressed white shirt, but James was wearing the jeans and tight black Beetles t-shirt combination he was so fond of. It had become a staple of pride between the four to wear muggle clothes as often as possible. Remus leaning against the stone wall, James pressing against him.
"So, what did they get you? We had roast for supper, did they manage to get you a slice or two of that?"
"Uh. Yeah. Roast." Remus had one hand clutching his trousers, and all Sirius could think was that they would wrinkle. The other had a fistful of James' shirt crumpled in his fist. He was bent down a bit, in order to reach James.
"Goddamn, I love those house elves and their cooking. Mum and Dad can easily afford to buy an elf, but they're stingy, so she cooks and it always tastes like shite. The day before I go home, I have to run up to Honeydukes and buy as much as I can, to tide me over for the summer."
James just had his arms wrapped around Remus' waist.
"I mean, if I had an elf, I wouldn't ever make it torture itself. That just seems like bad form, to hurt something that's trying to help you."
James and Remus were kissing, and from six feet away Sirius could hear their moans. They rocked back and forth on their heels as they kissed, and it was obvious they were enjoying themselves.
"Hey, are you listening?"
He knows they'll know he knows soon. He left the Potions door open in his haste to get away. When they stop kissing they'll see it's ajar and know they've been caught. They'll want to talk, and they'll try to get him to look them in the eye, and then he'll have to deal. Sirius just wants a few more minutes of blissful faked ignorance. But of course he can't leave it alone. "Did you know they like each other?"
"You know, I was nearly sorted to Ravenclaw." Not only does Sirius not understand the non-sequitur, he has trouble believing it.
"Don't roll your eyes at me. It's true. The Hat said I had a unique mind, I processed information in garbled ways, but I have the capacity to know a lot." Sirius is used to paraphrasing Peter's off kilter statements so they fit into the conversation better, but he has no idea how this is connecting to James and Remus so he says nothing.
"But then it said I had to be in Gryffindor because I needed boosting."
"What?" for a second his mind comes away from James and Remus kissing to focus on Peter and his rambling. When he catches Peter's eye, the teen looks a bit pained.
"Four years, and have I talked about my family? Less then you have, and you hate yours."
Sirius always thought it best to not mention family; it wasn't what teenage boys did. But now that he thought about it, he could remember complaining about Regulus being snotty to him in the halls, or his parents picking out every bad quality and examining it so it could be stomped out. Remus would talk about listening to music with his muggle father, and introducing him to wizard bands. James would get a care package from his mum, and talk endlessly about the other food she made. But Peter had never said a word, before tonight.
"Well, I'm still not going to. Let's just leave it at it takes nerve to be with my family, and the hat thought I could learn how to be braver by being in Gryffindor. That I needed friends I could follow and emulate. Lucky for me there was James and you and Remus."
Sirius doesn't know what to say. He wants to know more about Peter's life, wants to understand what could be so dire about his home that in four years he's said one thing- his mum cooks like shite. But his mind is still reeling from James and Remus, and he needs time to think, he needs things right again.
For the first time in years, he's not sure he feels comfortable with the Marauders. All the midnight sneaking around to collect information for the map they're working on, all the pranks and the group detentions and everything else they've done together has been spit on by James and Remus turning their friendship into something else.
He sits there in silence, Peter no doubt waiting for him to reply to his story. Instead his brain begins to spiral, and he realises that now that he knows, he can't be what he once was. "I think I'll have to move out of the dorm." he says, voice combining wonder and dismay.
"Don't be a moron." Sirius isn't used to Peter ragging on him, Peter's the one that gets ragged on. It jolts him out of his thoughts for a moment.
"What?"
"Didn't you get my point?"
"No?" How anyone could get much sense out of Peter, he didn't know. And his brain isn't working at top capacity right now anyway.
Peter grinds the heel of his hand into his right eye. "Okay, let's try this again. The hat sorted me into Gryffindor because it knew I needed friends that would teach me how to be brave. Now, why do you think it sorted you into Gryffindor? Because it wasn't just to piss off your parents."
Sirius thinks back to the first night at Hogwarts. "You know, it never really said."
"It's because the hat knew that you needed to learn daring and nerve too. You needed to know how to circumvent your parents' expectations, to not care that you weren't living up to standards. To be brave enough that you could have your own life, not just what other people wanted for you. So fucking think for a minute. If you're a true Gryffindor, you'll realise if you deserve your own life, then James and Remus do too. And maybe Lily this Lily that is a front, and they've been doing stuff together for awhile, or maybe it's recent. Either way, be a Gryffindor, and shut the fuck up and tolerate it."
When in the hell had Peter become wise? Sirius is thrown for another loop, but at least now with the new perspective he can see things ending well. Tolerance was not something he'd learned from his parents, but since when did he want to be like his parents? He'd have to do this.
Year Five
"What should I get Lily for Christmas?" James throws his hacky sack into the air then tries to catch it. All four are lying on their beds in the dorm.
"You're kidding, right?" Sirius can't believe it. How the hell can James want to give a gift to such an awful naggy bitch? Only friends and relatives got gifts for each other. Mother, Narcissa, Bellatrix and Andromeda were getting necklaces, and father and Regulus were getting expensive leather shoes. His friends were getting less expensive but much more personal gifts. Peter was getting a ten galleon note card for Honeydukes, Remus a set of quills with 15 different feather types, and James a practice quaffle that commented on the grip of the catcher. Getting Lily a present was as bad as getting Snape a present.
"He's not kidding" Peter tells him. From the slur Sirius can tell he has toffee in his mouth.
"He's not kidding." Sirius doesn't have to look at Remus to know he's reading. Probably a book about travelling the world, making the Marauders Map had revealed an interest in cartography and geography.
"But... why? What if she's a crazy bint, like all the rest, and thinks you mean something by it?"
"James wants to date her." Sirius laughs at Peter for being so stupid, but no one else is laughing. His laughter trickles off, and the room is silent.
"But what about Remus?" He doesn't often acknowledge their relationship. Sirius doesn't know what they do together, and doesn't want to know. What he does know, however, is that they're great for each other. Who wouldn't want to be with their best friend, provided the bits were compatible?
"Remus will be fine." Remus says.
Sirius bolts up. "Fuck that" he says firmly. He walks past Peter's bed, stops at James'. He grabs James by the foot and pulls him off the bed, James' back slams against the floor.
"What the hell are you doing? Get the buggering hell off me!"
"We have to talk."
"And you couldn't just say that, instead of grabbing at me?" James looks indignant, glasses askew, face red on the floor.
"Sirius, don't." Remus sounds concerned, but Sirius can't worry about that. He has to be angry and upset right now, when he still has the emotion, before it drifts away in his parents conditioning of suppress suppress suppress.
"Fuck that too. We're going. Let's get going. Time to move on out." When James doesn't move from his sprawled position, Sirius takes his grip on his ankle and begins pulling again.
"Okay! Stop!" Sirius loosens his grip, and James stands.
Sirius only makes it as far as the stairwell outside the room before he taps his anger. "What in the sodding hell is wrong with you? Since when do you want that bint? Since when do you want girls? You're supposed to be with him! It's the way the Marauders work, you with him and Peter neutral and me ignoring and you're supposed to kiss him when he wakes up after the moon, and what's going to happen now? What's wrong with you? How could you do that to him?"
"Sirius-"
He knows his voice is getting progressively loud, and the Black in him grates at the idea. But it's like every bit of rage in the last 15 years is coming out through this one conversation. And it's righteous, because there's something horribly wrong with James. "Fuck you, James Potter. How fucking dare you do that to him?"
"He won't care. It's not like we're dating. We just muck about." James sounds so reasonable, but Sirius knows different. Knows without having ever talked about it that Remus loves him, knows that Remus thinks it's more then that. If James goes through with this, then everything will change.
"If you date that cunt you'll ruin everything! I hope someone beats you to death!" He's screaming, and he shoves James as hard as he can. He watches James fall back on the stairs and hopes for just a moment that he's given James a concussion before he runs down the stairs. He needs to go to the library and read Songs of Innocence a few dozen times.
Year Six
It's only one word. Sirius had no idea one word could wreck someone's life. But here he is, being shunted from side to side on a bed on the Knight Bus. It's not the rapid movement that's making him nauseous.
Sirius has a cold, and he wishes he remembered to pack some pepper up potion. Hopefully Mrs Potter will have some. Until then, he rolls onto his side on the bed provided and tries not to cry. When he cries it makes his nose run, and with his cold he'd barely be able to breath from congestion.
He'd been sniffling a lot earlier in the evening. It was just easier to do then to get up and go to the bog every two minutes for a tissue. Besides, he'd had a runny nose for days, and the underside of his nose was getting raw from wiping it. His mother had told him every time he sniffled how uncouth he was being, and that sniffling was not a Black mannerism. Never mind that Regulus was feet away, snickering, which wasn't a Black behaviour either.
Irritable from the cold, and from mother constantly picking on something he couldn't help, he used the phrase he'd been using with the Marauders when he got pissed off with them since first year. "I'm going to move out!" he had shouted.
"Good!" his mother had screeched back. And she had waved her wand, and then his trunk was at his feet.
"You have an hour to pack." His father informed him. Regulus hadn't said a word, just watched him collect his belongings. The whole time he was certain this was a show, a fakery. His parents wouldn't actually kick him out.
But they had. Standing outside Grimmauld Place, the only place he could think of to go in the middle of the summer was James' house. So he had raised his arm, called the Knight Bus, denied the offer of a toothbrush, and laid down to contemplate his miserable existence.
Before long, Sirius is being nudged by the conductor. "Kent, right?"
"Yes." Sirius wipes his eyes, smears his nose across his sleeve of his robe, and grabs his coat. His trunk is inside the pocket, Shrunken. Anything he's ever going to use again is inside the trunk. If they were serious about him leaving, then he knows they'll be just as serious about not letting him come back, not even to get a change of robes or a book he forgot.
He walks up the pavement, and stands on the doorstep. Sirius knocks on the door, first quietly. When no one answers, he knocks harder. He starts slamming his fist against the door because this is his last option, it's the end of the line. If the Potters don't let him in, he'll have nowhere to sleep.
Every knock makes him more tired, more weepy. When Mrs Potter opens the door, she's in a fuzzy pink bathrobe. Mr Potter is behind her, and they both have their wands out. He's clearly made them nervous. It's the time.
"Sirius?" she gasps as she takes in his red nose, pink bloodshot eyes and dishevelled clothes. When he visited last summer, it was extremely important to him to look nice, and had never left the guest room without his hair combed. He's a 180 from that vision.
"I'm sorry" he says. He takes a step forward to enter the house, then falls against the pink terrycloth and begins to wail. He clings to her, his head bobbing back and forth on her breasts as she breathes calmly. Her hand is rubbing his head and the nape of his neck, and for a moment he feels better. Then he remembers that his mother would never do this, not even when she still loved him, and he starts crying anew.
"Edward, get James" he hears her murmur. In any other circumstance, Sirius would be wiping his eyes and suppressing so that James wouldn't see him lose control. But Sirius isn't a Black any more, and he'll never suppress again.
A few minutes later, he feels a larger, warmer hand on his back. He wonders how hard it was for Mr Potter to get James up in less then five minutes, when at Hogwarts it takes at least a half hour. He pulls away from Mrs Potter, and wants to laugh at James squinting against the living room light and the pyjama bottoms with the left leg crumpled up around his thigh. But his terror and exhaustion and misery work against the momentary humour. It's all Sirius can do to not collapse on the floor.
"What happened?"
Sirius opens his mouth to explain, and starts crying again.
"Mum?" James sounds panicky, and he's got the I Want To Go Home Now voice, which Sirius finds funny because he is home. And at least he has a home.
"Sirius, are you physically hurt?" Mrs Potter asks. Sirius shakes his head. "Do you want to talk to me or Edward?" Sirius shakes his head again. "Do you want to talk to James?" Sirius doesn't shake his head, but he doesn't nod either. He doesn't want anything, except for the last 4 hours to have never happened.
"Okay Sirius. Edward and I are going back to bed. Don't hesitate to get us if you need us." She's such a good mum that she's mothering him. It hurts to know a stranger cares more than his own family. He watches them leave the room.
"Sirius, what happened?" Sirius just looks at him. James looks back, and they spend a minute just looking, squinted green into bloodshot grey. Then James holds out his hand, and at a loss, Sirius takes it. James leads him to his bedroom. The wallpaper is geometric and khaki, the carpet fluffy and white. There are posters of Quidditch everywhere. The room is no different then last year.
What is different is that when James lies down, Sirius lies down with him. James spoons him on the bed, and asks again and again and again 'what's wrong'. After some time, Sirius is able to choke out an explanation.
"You mean, they just kicked you out? Because you were sniffling? What the fuck is wrong with them?" James is getting indignant, and it makes Sirius feel a bit better. Stronger, in a strange way.
He rolls around in James' embrace, turning so he can look at the teen. "The first 10 years of my life I was ordered about, told exactly what I could and couldn't be. Then I became a Gryffindor, and the next six years were spent picking out every flaw. I thought they were doing it so I could still be the best Black I could be, besides the Gryffindor thing. But they weren't. They were trying to crush me. And they finally did. And who will tell me how to be now?"
He wants to cry again, but he doesn't think he has any more tears. He shakes and James holds him, like James holds Remus the morning after the moon for the last three years. And there has to be something horribly wrong with him, because he's getting hard. Sirius knows James can feel it against his thigh, and he wishes he were dead, because he just can't handle everything that's turning his life to shit. He starts to cry again.
"Shhhh. It's okay. It's okay." James pushes up his robe and it's just a warm hand on more warm flesh, but somehow it's searing. James collects the wetness from the tip with his thumb, and smears it down the length. He closes his fingers and starts to jerk Sirius off.
Somehow he collects the wit to say "What about Lily?"
James looks at him, smiles a smile that isn't happy and replies "This doesn't count." He spits on his other palm, and switches hands. Sirius knows James is ambidextrous, had known since first year, but had never thought it would matter.
Sirius's eyelids clench closed as James picks up the pace and accidentally scrapes a fingernail against his cock. Pain like that shouldn't feel good. He works up the focus to ask what he knows will be the last coherent thing he says. "What about Remus?" After all, even if James has a boys aren't cheating clause, it has to be cheating on Remus. If Remus is still around. It's so hard to know, when you don't really want to know.
James repeats "This doesn't count" and that's the last sentence spoken as they lie on James' childhood bed.
Year Seven
Really, it's not the silence that's killing him. It's all the other noises.
The silence of the seventh year dorm isn't truly silence. Every time James throws his hackey sack in the air and catches it, it makes a peculiar sandy crunching noise. Peter's gnawing on gum, so there are sticky noises, as well as the occasional pop of a burst bubble. And Remus flips pages of his book, then scratches notes onto a piece of parchment.
The silence of classes isn't really silence. The professor, whomever it is, drones on. Again, the sounds of pages turning and notes being written. Some lessons involve speaking spells, some cutting roots against damaged wooden tables.
The silence of the common room isn't silence at all. There are dozens of people around him, talking, laughing. A few even talk to him. A firstie wants to know if he wants to play Snap. An older girl asks for help with homework in an obscene voice that even the firsties know insinuates more then homework. A noisy gossipy bitch wants to know why he's not sitting with James and Sirius and Peter. Sirius wants to know why too.
He longs for the silence. It's been six months since the cold calm silence of Grimmauld Place. Even better, of course, would be the noise he's had for the last six and a half years. But that's not available, and he doesn't know if it's ever going to come back. The idea terrifies him.
Silence or noise, anything would be better then this. It's as if the world has been separated from him. He feels like there's a pane of glass, or a shielding charm between him and the students in the common room. He can hear them talking, but they're not from his world, they're away. His world only holds four people, and three are refusing to talk to him.
One night after everyone's in bed Sirius pushes words out into the void. They seem to hang in the air like sickly crows. "I could move out?" Because really, he'd rather the silence of his own room then the insignificant much too significant noises of this room.
"This isn't about you." Remus spits, and the room is not-silent again as mattresses groan with their owners rolling over uncomfortably.
Post
Being out of Hogwarts isn't much different then being in it, Sirius muses. Peter's gone to his own flat, but James and Remus have rooms just down the hall from his. There isn't a day he doesn't thank uncle Alphard for giving him money for the house. A truly ridiculous amount, he was able to buy it outright.
Like Hogwarts, the place is a pigsty. They haven't gotten all their furniture arranged yet, and so the living room is mainly boxes. At one point they were shrunken to take up less room, but it's hard to know what box holds what you need when everything in it is the size of a flea. So now they're all full sized, and stacked precariously on the floor and couches. Games were the first thing to leave the boxes, since entertainment is the primary concern of the 18 year old, and so large piles of cards are balanced on various flat surfaces. Things like towels are strewn wherever they were dropped, and only get picked up and washed when there's nothing left to transfigure after stepping out of the shower.
Like Hogwarts, there's delicious food to be had at all hours. They don't have a house-elf, but it turns out that Remus is an excellent cook if given the chance. The cupboards are stuffed with things that hardly look like food, but give Remus 20 minutes and there will be three portions of Heaven on the chipped plates. Due to James' obsession, there's also a never ending stream of muggle snacks. The problem is they have no kitchen table, even if they could find the pocket it was Shrunken and put inside, the kitchen is smaller then Sirius' bedroom closet. They have no choice but to eat in other rooms.
Sirius would never sigh - one of few Black habits that stayed imprinted. However, there's no problem with body language cues. So when he goes to cook baked beans on toast and finds no plates in the cupboard he rolls his eyes. In vain he searches the other cupboards, but nothing. Sirius knows that if he doesn't take the plates from the bedrooms, no one will. James' crisps and cookies don't need plates, and Remus will just transfigure a handkerchief into a plate to use for cooking. So he grabs a rubbish bin and carries it with him to his bedroom, and stacks the plates and glasses in them. He dumps the dirty cups and plates in the sink, hearing more then one thing shatter. It doesn't concern him, that's what mending charms are for.
He repeats the pattern in James' room. It doesn't surprise him to see more crumpled cellophane and cardboard and glass then real cookware. James had spent a mad amount of money in Muggle supermarkets in the last 6 months. Sirius isn't as pureblooded as his parents, he can admit some of their concoctions taste great. But a Mini Roll will never win against a Cauldron Cake, and even that won't win against Remus making a cake with buttercream icing.
He opens Remus' door, intent on collecting the plates that must be scattered across the floor. Then he stops, stuck in the doorway. He feels fourteen again - and not in a good way.
Again, it's Remus between James and a hard surface. This time it's a bed. This time instead of fan tshirts and crumpled trousers there's only skin and bedsheets pushed to the side. This time kissing isn't the main attraction, James is thrusting steadily into Remus.
And this time Sirius doesn't sneak away, nor does he follow Peter's wise advice of tolerance. "Get out of my damn house!"
His shout penetrates - God, he'll never be able to use that word again - their focus, James pulls out and sits crosslegged on the bed. Remus lowers his legs to the bed and pulls up the discarded sheets. "What?"
"If you insist on doing that, then you'll have to move out." The explanation is simple, barely revealing the rage he feels.
"What? Is this a heterosexuals only house?" Remus sounds disgusted; Sirius hasn't heard that tone in a full year.
"Can't be." James replies. "If it was, he wouldn't be here either." his smirk, Sirius has hated it since the first day at Hogwarts. At least when it's directed towards him.
"What?" Remus sounds shocked, but amused. Neither is a reaction Sirius likes.
"Fuck you."
"Did you two... do something?"
"You're an arse, he's taking it out of context!"
"How about instead of getting pissed off, you join us?" God, that smirk! It makes him feel a twinge better that he isn't the only one surprised, Remus is staring at James like he's grown a third arm. It only makes everything more surreal that part of him is considering the idea.
"I could get you hard in about three seconds, if you aren't already." When James says hard, Sirius can't help but look. Remus is covered by the blankets, but James is bare naked and the head of his cock is weeping. His hand raises to his face and he pinches his eyebrows together. He can't deal with this right now. He can't deal with this at all, it's why Peter's strategy of accept and ignore worked so well.
James stands, his change of position - God, are no words in the English language safe anymore? - jostling his dick. Feeling all of five, Sirius lowers his hand a bit so it covers his eyes. If he can make it out of the room alive, he can shout at them through the closed door. Or he can write down a treaty in which they never show off and he can just Obliviate himself. Or hell, he can just give them the house and find a new place. Anything to be out of this situation.
But before he has the chance to escape, James is pressing against him. Sirius can feel the warmth of his cock through his thin, worn jeans. It's the biggest thrill he's ever had, a hundred times better than Elizabeth Hutton sucking his cock or having his fingers inside Shannon Docherty. But he can't let James know that, he has to come up with a witty retort that will get him out of the room where he can repress, repress, repress. "You're going to stain my jeans."
Not what he'd been hoping for. James and Remus don't seem to think much of the comment either, they both start laughing. James takes a few steps back, bent over in hysteria, supporting himself by putting his hands on his thighs. "You are such a Black." Remus chuckles.
Though he knows Remus is referring to Narcissa getting a week's worth of detentions for hexing a boy that had spilled a few drops of milk on her, he can't help but think of all the other negatives that come along with being a Black. "Fuck you!"
"It is an option." James sounds so casual, but his cock is bouncing against his stomach and if there's one thing Sirius knows as a teenage boy, it's that that feeling is never casual.
"You didn't even ask Remus!" if that's all he has for excuses, there are two reasons why. Either he's become brain-dead in the last five minutes, or he wants this, and part of his brain has been hiding crucial information from the other parts. Sirius groans as he realises he's had a hidden agenda since fourth year. It's not information he's comfortable learning. Where's Peter when a person needs an explanation of how to rearrange their thoughts?
"Remus will be fine with it." And now it's the summer after sixth year because James is pressed up against him, groping him. Sirius squeezes his eyes tightly closed and vows he won't get hard, but it's a lost promise. He's been hard since walking in the room. He alters his promise, deciding now that he won't come.
"Remus is fine with it, thanks ever so for asking." Why is Remus still chuckling? How is any of this funny, is what Sirius would like to know.
James has his hands in the bum pockets of Sirius' jeans and is pulling him slowly towards the bed. When Sirius notices, he takes a few steps back then plants his feet firmly down. He hasn't agreed to anything yet. It's just like James to be wily about it.
"Come with me, and then you can come with us." James tries to use a sexy voice, and for the first time Sirius laughs. Remus continues; it seems like he hasn't stopped. Who knew sex made their furry friend so jolly?
"You are a terrible seductor." Sirius informs James. Except it's not true, because James pulls him again and Sirius follows. What the hell. If it's as terrible as it could be, he could always Obliviate.
For all his pulling, he doesn't go anywhere. As soon as he yields to James by taking a step forward, they stop. Sirius stumbles, takes another half step and James cock is on his thigh again. Committing himself, he reaches down and gives it a quick tug. James inhales hard and bites his lower lip. He wants to kiss the reddened lips, but that seems like a couply thing to do - and they most certainly aren't that.
"You know, this isn't much of a threesome if you blokes just stand there and wank each other off whilst I'm over here." Remus still has the blanket on, but it's wriggling and Sirius can tell he's slowly wanking. Now that his mind is open to the concept, he realises how sodding hot it is. He wants the blanket off so he can see what grip Remus uses, so he can see how big Remus is.
"Well then get up, you lazy sod" James snaps. He seems to be at an impasse, stuck with his hands on Sirius' arse. Sirius laughs because he can picture Peter's friendly chubby face suggesting they take turns. James took first move, hitting on Sirius. Sirius had next move, accepting. Now it's Remus' turn, he has to join the game before they can start.
Remus finally stands. Sirius has seen Remus naked loads of times in the last seven years. Sirius has seen stretching in the morning, scrubbing in the shower, bleeding after the moon, and striding through the house like he owns the place. But he's never been hard, and it's that small difference that means the world. His cock sways as he moves, and it's mesmerising. Sirius almost expects a mirrored movement of James, two twin serpents leading him down a dark path. But Remus doesn't press up against him, frotting against his leg. Instead he passes them both. He leans against Sirius' back, and he's doomed because there is nothing more erotic then a hard cock poking him in the cleft of his arse.
After that, things go by in a bit of a blur. Remus' hands snake around him to undo the zipper on his jeans, whilst James tugs upwards at his shirt. He loses his pants at the same time that he loses his sight, and when the shirt is off things look different. The world is somehow crisper.
James no longer has pockets to put his hands in. It doesn't seem to concern him; he just puts his hands on Sirius bare arse. It startles Sirius a bit, but flinching sideways somehow puts him in the awkward position of having Remus' dick on his left arse cheek and James' on his right thigh. He knows he must be blushing like a madman, but doesn't know what to say.
"Look, if this is going to be a problem-" James starts.
"You can still back out-" Remus begins.
"No." Sirius interrupts them both. If there's two things he knows, it's that he crossed the line minutes ago and can definitely no longer back out, and that Marauders don't have problems, they have fun.
Somehow it's his turn again. He can recognise that much at least, even if he doesn't exactly know what to do. Gameplans have never really been part of his repertoire, but he knows he has to do something. So he drops his head forward and kisses James on the neck. Even if kisses are too much of a claim, surely bitemarks can't be as loving? If he takes a moment to think, he'll realise that it's highly unlikely Remus has ever bitten down on James, even out of passion. But he doesn't take a moment to think, because thinking would ruin everything.
Besides, as his teeth and lips work valiantly to raise a mark on James, Remus' hand sneaks between his legs to cup his balls. His entire body tingles, and thought is truly a thing of the past. Sirius angles his body so he can put his hands on James chest. He pushes the man as hard as possible.
"What?" he gasps, stumbling back.
"Get on the bed," Sirius orders. After all, that's where anything of meaning has to take place. Remus laughs and shoves him as well. Suddenly they're all sprawled on the mattress, and there are too many limbs and not enough bed. With Elizabeth and Shannon it was easy. Elizabeth had him leaning against a wall in the 6th floor bathroom; Shannon was in the common room on the sofa. He knew what was expected. But he's damned if he admits that he doesn't know what to do.
Luckily, Remus seems to have an idea. He pushes at everyone until Sirius is lying on his back, and the other two are on either side of him. James whispers something, and though he doesn't know for sure, there are only a few spells one needs in a situation like this. When he feels his hands dripping, he knows that he was right and that James was a bit over enthusiastic. Oddly, that makes Sirius feel more comfortable.
He doesn't quite know what to do with his wet hands. He tries to grasp onto Remus, but the angle is awkward. Before he can think of a better technique, James runs fingers lightly up his inner thigh. It's half erotic, half ticklish. James' next move is to grab his cock and pull the foreskin back. Sirius gasps through gritted teeth as James starts to jerk him.
Remus is saying something, but Sirius can't hear it. All he can hear is something like throbbing waves running through his ears, not that that's a metaphor that makes sense. He doesn't need to make sense, not when he's a minute away from coming. It takes a light slap on the chest before he can focus in on the werewolf.
"Lift your leg up, 'kay?" Sirius -there's no other word for it- obeys. Remus and James clearly know what they're doing, it's best to fall in line. But he's never been good at playing 'don't smush the cake', and after a few moments his leg starts wobbling. Hoping for the best, he holds his knee to his chest then uses James' wand to cast a Shackles of Air charm. The charm works, his leg stays in place. It's going to cramp like a bitch later, but that's quite the least of his concerns now.
James, who'd stopped for a moment, is wanking him faster now, adding a slight twist at the tip. It's almost enough distraction to pull him away from Remus' fingernails scratching along his perineum. Almost. Before he's ready - though, to be honest, he probably never would have been ready if asked - Remus has a finger at his arsehole. His hand is wet, and Sirius realises that's something to truly be thankful for as the finger slides inside him.
"Ohmigod."
"You'll like it," James replies. He's still jerking him, Sirius doesn't know if he's gotten softer from the fear or the slight burn, or harder from the utter sexy dirtiness of this move of Remus'. The finger is bobbing in and out, and then again, much too soon, another joins it.
"Um, could you maybe not do that?" he manages to ask. It hurts. Not only that, but he can just picture how sodding ridiculous he looks, leg magically bound to his chest.
"You'll like it," James repeats. He reaches up and pinches Sirius nipple.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snaps. That hurts too. Just as he's about to declare this whole thing off, Remus scoots to the end of the bed, his fingers still in Sirius' arse. Remus leans forward and puts his mouth around Sirius' rapidly shrivelling erection. The introduction of wet heat makes Sirius bite his lip, and takes the edge off the pain in his arse. For a brief moment he worries about all the weight being at the end of the bed, and the rusty frame collapsing. Then he realises he doesn't care, because Remus' tongue is on his slit, licking at the beads of precome.
He knows that he'll be comparing every blowjob in the future to this, so he tries to notice the details. Remus' isn't pushing his nose into his pubic hair like the porn he's seen, gagging and loving it. Instead, it's nearly all tongue work near the tip. James' hand is still on the base, and while it is moving, it's also clenching tighter. That Sirius is grateful for, because if James didn't have a strong grip, he'd of already come down Remus' throat. He wonders if Remus can taste the lubricant smeared down his cock, and what it tastes like.
By the time he remembers he's got fingers in his arse, they don't hurt anymore. Not that he understands the appeal in the least. This is supposed to be the Mecca of gay, and it just doesn't make sense. "If you go a bit faster, I'll come" he suggests. Then he can try out this blowing thing on Remus, and see if it's as fun to do as to get.
Somehow they both take that as a cue to stop completely. The air is cold against his cock, and Remus' smile seems downright cruel. "No, no, no! You have to-" he gestures frantically. James smirks at him, and uses his left hand to start wanking Remus. Bloody ambidextrous bastard. "This isn't fair!" the next thing he says is going to be a threat to move out, he can just tell. But before it can pop out, Remus cups his balls with his free hand and starts massaging.
James is still smirking when he puts in a finger as well. But the bastard must be using some sort of illegal charm, because his finger pokes at something and it takes Remus squeezing tightly for him to not come ribbons over everything. "What the fuck was that?"
"That, my dearest Padfoot, is called a prostate. Every gay boy has one." James is still smirking at him, but he doesn't care. Now Sirius understands Mecca. "It'll be even better when I fuck you."
"Uh, James? I'm fucking him."
"I'll rock paper scissors you for it" James offers. Sirius bursts into laughter, though it's a bit disappointing when they both stop touching him to hold out their hands. James gets rock, Remus picks scissors.
"Best two out of three?" Remus offers, hopeful.
"Uh, NO." James shakes his head, shaggy hair flying. Sirius never thought he was such a hot commodity, but is pleased to know.
"It's okay. You can still blow me" he consoles.
"Well, aren't you the cocky one?"
Sirius looks down at his man of the hour. "Uh, yes?"
"You're such a prat." they're the last words spoken before James is inside him. So much for a gentle, fire-roaring, snow-falling, repeated declarations of love, pretty deflowering. James is not the gentle type, and Remus is mocking him.
And so much for the Cassanova all the Hogwarts girls used to title him. It takes about four thrusts for James to find his prostate, and about eight after that for Sirius to come. He splatters on James' chest, a bit embarrassed at being an early ejaculator, but mostly blissful at having come. James huffs a bit, but doesn't say anything cruel, and somehow Sirius knows this will never be fodder for jokes.
Remus and James kneel over him, wanking. It doesn't take them long to coat his chest in white. Sirius is a bit surprised one of them doesn't make a reference to snowmen, but maybe they're floating as high as he is. The idea is confirmed when, instead of casting a cleaning spell, they both stretch on the bed. It's a tight fit for all three men. The bed is smaller then the ones at Hogwarts, or maybe they've just grown up. Either way, Sirius can't say he minds.