kat_scratches (kat_scratches) wrote in ficbits, @ 2007-08-04 00:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp, pg, remus/sirius |
HP fic "Even In Antarctica" (PG)
Title: Even in Antarctica
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters. I just toy with them mercilessly now and again.
Rating: PG. Yes, I wrote something PG. Really!
Summary: Some days are just like that.
A/N: Title paraphrased from Judith Viorst’s most excellent children’s fic, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day”.
Even in Antarctica
Sirius woke up far too early and couldn’t fall back to sleep because Peter’s snores were louder than the Hogwarts express. Besides, James was talking in his sleep about Quidditch again until Sirius wanted to throw a Bludger or three at him.
In the shower he dropped the soap six times while Remus wasn’t even anywhere nearby, and someone (he thought it might have been James) had used the last of his mango-vanilla conditioner.
His only clean pair of socks had holes in them and didn’t really match if one looked closely. James turned them fuchsia when he tried to charm them whole.
“Look at it this way,” he said to Sirius. “At least no one will notice the holes.”
“Thanks a lot,” Sirius said.
At breakfast Peter ate the last of the marmalade, although it didn’t really matter as Sirius had already dropped his toast on the floor butter-side down.. When he made to pick it out of the dust, he knocked his teacup over too. Remus tried to help by charming it back together, but the repaired cup turned his tea so cold that it actually froze.
“That’s it,” Sirus said morosely, poking at the thin veneer of ice with the tip of his wand. “I’m moving to Antarctica.”
“Your tea would still be frozen there,” Remus pointed out.
Right before Herbology, Sirius had to rush back to the dorm for a forgotten textbook. In his rush he missed a vanishing step and toppled partway down the staircase, his robes skidding up over his knees. Peeves zoomed by as Sirius picked himself up, yelling “Nice socks!”, then flew off, cackling wildly.
Finally slipping into Greenhouse Three, text clutched in sweaty hand, he muttered to Remus, “I’ll bet they don’t have fuchsia in Antarctica.”
Remus said, “That may be, but there wouldn’t be anyone to see your socks anyway.”
“I already apologized,” James grumbled. “Twice.”
Professor Sprout warned James and Remus against talking out in class, and Sirius got detention for being late.
In History of Magic, Professor Binns set a surprise quiz on goblin rebellions and Sirius mixed up all his dates, realizing the mistake only after handing in his scroll. He upset his inkwell over his robes while packing up his books and had to go upstairs to change.
There was tomato soup at lunch, which Sirius hated, and the roast beef sandwich that Remus had saved him was too rare.
In Potions, the prank he and James had planned on the Slytherins backfired spectacularly, melting his cauldron. The potion in it spattered over his robe, causing the bottom eight inches to dissolve entirely. The Slytherins were very much amused by the fuchsia socks.
“Still moving to Antarctica?” Remus asked as they hurried to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
“Definitely,” Sirius said sourly. “Right after Quidditch practice.”
“Well,” said Remus. “I’ll miss you.”
In DADA, Sirius’s Boggart refused to come out of the closet.
He missed tea altogether as he was serving detention by helping Professor Sprout clean up the havoc her Second Years had wrought upon some Mandrakes, and fell off his broom six times during Quidditch practice. There were lima beans and sprouts at supper, and his pudding was full of raisins. Sirius didn’t eat very much.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Remus asked solicitiously.
“There’s better food in Antarctica,” Sirius assured him.
“No, there isn’t,” said James, who was completely unperturbed by the presence of raisins.
“Sod off,” Sirius glowered. He pushed his pudding aside and stomped his fuchsia socks up to the dorm.
The password to the dorm had been changed again and Sirius had forgotten it. Not that it mattered, as the Fat Lady was laughing too hard at Sirius’s socks.
Sirius couldn’t concentrate on his homework because Remus kept sucking absently on his quill in a most distracting manner, and James kept singing off-key to Lily until she finally hexed his mouth shut in disgust.
When he finally escaped to bed, the bedcurtains refused to close properly and the sheets were cold and his favourite pillow had a hole in it where the feathers were slowly sifting out.
“This was the worst day ever,” Sirius confided to Remus who was kind enough to trade pillows.
“Some days are just like that,” Remus said solemnly. “Even in Antarctica.”