Parties. Parties he could do. He could handle Evans and Potter's mating rituals, he could handle Remus and his child, he could handle his criminal record - Parties made everything better. And this was bound to be a good one.
And it wasn't just because he'd gone shot for shot with James on the way here that he had such a spring in his step. It was because he couldn't be in a bad mood for a party and honestly this would give him what he considered to be very important insight regarding who he was stuck at school with a full month early - and hopefully everything else. Yes Sirius Black had grand plans to have all this sorted before the night was over and he was drunkenly pawing at well, someone.
"All sorted, mate - I think I've a Ravenclaw coming to join us."
He looked up and around whatever he was doing to the poor radio, wand gripped in his teeth. He assumed it was the bloke called Neville and he waved and wished him the happiest of birthdays before he finished up the last of what he was doing to the radio and the dulcet tones of Celestina Warbeck were cancelled out by the loud, somewhat stranger than the muggle music of the seventies, muggle music of 1999 - which said something about a Backstreet Boy and Sirius glared hard at the radio. "What does that even mean?" he gave the radio a slap and it sparked and actually sounded like it cursed at him through the static. After the third well placed slap their ears were assaulted by something called a Mambo No. 5 and Sirius was beginning to lose all hope for future generations. He was not tapping his foot, not one bit.
"I know now why we've been brought here mate," he said as the next song. "We have to save them from their music." He didn't bother going back to the WWN songs, his capabilities were too great, and he'd worked too hard. But also because Sirius hoped his mother was somehow witnessing this travesty from whatever deep pit of the Underworld she'd been banished to upon her long overdue death.