The Simply, Not So Simple, Plan
Sirius knew it was stupid to even make this a plan in the first place. He would feel much more happy if he was doing this without a plan. Okay, to clarify, the end goal of the plan is to get his brother, and possibly his brother’s friends, out of their abusive houses and into one of the marauders’ homes.
It would be easy enough. He knew James was obsessed with Quidditch, and even though he was never allowed to play it, Regulus was on another level in-love with quidditch. If he got Regulus talking about Quidditch, he’d never stop, and he knew his brother would help him with this if he knew it was an escape plan.
The truth is, the Black brothers have been trying to escape Number 12 Grimmauld Place for as long as they can remember. By the time Sirius was 13, he had memorized every escape route from the house, somehow managing to find ones from the cellar to the roof. It was only a matter of how and when they were going to escape.
Plus, he could already feel that he and Remus had something between them. It couldn’t be too hard to get him to be his friend if they were already going to be spending every potions class together. So… James and Regulus which obviously just added Pandora to that group, Sirius and Remus, Barty and Evan and Peter?
Sirius didn’t really know much about Peter. He was quiet in almost every class but Herbology, but Sirius felt a connection to him in a way that was hard to explain. Siirus knows that in another life he could have been a Gryffindor. He knows this because that’s where the sorting hat wanted to put him. He knows this because he talked to James on their first train ride to Hogwarts. He knows this because he had hope on that train ride to his first year at Hogwarts that he would be different from his family.
And when he sat under that hat, the hat saw something in him. Something Sirius knew in that moment that he would either have to kill or bury in the deepest part of his soul. He assumes Peter could have been a Slytherin in another life too. He saw the same fear in Peter’s eyes that he felt when the hat almost said Gryffindor in the middle of his sorting.
He had the duty of protecting his brother, and that’s why he was in Slytherin. Peter’s only childhood friends had been sorted into Gryffindor, and he needed them to protect him. That was where the connection he saw between them faltered; Sirius didn’t feel the need to rely on others when Peter did, but Peter went unnoticed while Sirius never did.
Luckily, for Sirius, he did not kill the Gryffindor part of him; instead, he buried it, and it was time to dig it back up again. He was ready. He had been waiting for it to be safe enough for his true self to actually come out one day.
He knew how to play the part of the powerful Heir of Black, but when he was talking to Remus, it was so easy to let go of the restrictions he put on himself. He no longer worried about keeping his curiosity in check, at least when he was around Remus, and he thought that maybe Regulus and his friends would be more comfortable being themselves with people who were always themselves.
He mumbled “Bombarda” to the portrait of the serpent; he always found that stupid. How was it even supposed to understand what he was saying? That was a topic for another time, he supposed.
He pushed his way through, avoiding contact with all of the other people in the common room; they had never been, and never will be, worth his time.
He took the stairs two at a time. This was the first time, maybe ever, he had felt this excited about something. He thinks that may be sad if he were anyone else, but because it was himself, it makes sense that this felt liberating.
He knew the others would feel the same way because they, unlike most, had experienced first hand the same things he had experienced. They had spent most, if not the entirety, of their lives waiting to get out of the hell-holes they were forced into. And to be clear, Sirius is aware that he mentioned he had no friends of his own, and he stands by that statement. Just because they’re not his friends does not make them any less important to Regyius, and that’s what matters.
He pushed open the door with as much vigor as he could muster, which was a lot considering his current mind-set, to show he meant business. Regulus smiled when he saw him. He liked being able to make his brother smile.
“Sirius, isn’t this your lunch period?” Regulus asked. “Are we eating lunch together today?”
“Wha-oh yeah, I guess it is. Okay, that doesn’t really matter right now though. I have an escape plan.” By the first syllable of ‘escape’, he had everyone’s undivided attention. At one time or another, they had all come up with an escape plan.
The only person in that group that actually had supportive and loving parents was Dorcas, but they all knew she would do anything to ensure that her friends had loving and caring homes. Contrary to popular belief, Slytherins were usually the fiercest of friends because when they loved someone, they loved hard. They never did anything halfway.
“I call being in charge of the explosions!” Barty chimed in. Sirius always admired Barty for his willingness to blow things up or blow Evan (what? Who said that?).
Sirius tried to contain his laughter at what Barty said and the dirty joke that popped into his mind, and continued to try to be, well, serious (don’t you dare make that joke, Sirius). “No. There are no explosions this time.” He got a look from Regulus that could only be explained as an exasperated ‘really?’ with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, really, Regulus. This is serious.”
“Yes we know your name,” Evan rolled his eyes. “Just get on with the plan already. I’m done living in fear, even when I’m away from them.”
“Ok, but I need you all to hear me out. I know it might sound crazy, but I think we need to befriend the marauders. They could be our way out!”
“Sirius, this might be the stupidest idea you’ve ever-” Regulus got cut off by Pandora.
“No, wait. It could work. Let him speak.”
“Thank you, Pans,” that nickname was only reserved for Regulus, but Pandora didn’t seem to mind. He just had to get through his speech without making eye contact with Reg, and it would be fine.
He got up to pace. It was always much easier for him to focus when he was moving. His parents hated how restless he always seemed to be, but all of the people in the dorm knew this only happened when Sirius was talking about something important to him.
“Look, Remus Lupin is my potions partner, and he’s a good person. I’ve seen the way he helps the younger students on their homework, and he doesn’t only help Gryffindors; he helps kids in all of the houses. Regulus, you remember how he defended you when Snape and his idiots were ganging up on you back in your third year, back when almost everyone seemed to have it out for you.”
“Yes, Sirius. Third year was literally less than a year ago for me. Of course, I haven’t forgotten the complete hell that was my third year, and yeah, Remus and James did the bare minimum of not being complete dicks or bystanders. So yay, they’re not transphobic, but that doesn’t mean they’re prepared to take in 5 traumatized teens who have really powerful parents, Siri. You can’t expect that from people you’ve barely even acknowledged before in the past.”
“No- I-I know that. I’m not stupid, but I am almost positive that Potter’s savior complex is our way out. Regulus, if you could just talk to him about quidditch, then-”
“Okay. We will help with your plan,” Regulus started, “but when they don’t fight to the death for our honor or whatever, you can’t be mad at us. Or them.”
There was some silence as they really took in what they were about to do, as they took in what the next few months would look like and how it would impact the rest of their lives.
“Are you sure I can’t blow something up?” Barty finally asked, breaking the silence.
Sirius ran over and jumped on the bed next to Barty. He patted Barty on his head, and Barty immediately returned the favor to Sirius’s head. Sirius squeaked in indignation as he normally did whenever anyone got close to his hair. After he got Barty’s prying fingers out of his hair and made sure it still looked as perfect as always, he made a promise to Barty. “When we get to the Potter mansion, you can blow up all of my stuff that has the Black Family crest on it.” Finally, Barty’s crazed and satisfied smile made an appearance.
They skived off classes for the rest of the day to celebrate the hope they finally had. This could actually work.