Somebody's Hometown
There was a train coming into Twelve.
That's what people were saying. Peter had come knocking on the door to tell him. James had been excited and his mother had let him go off, "I'll finish the dinner just be back before curfew."
He'd given her a hug and hurried out after Pete. Everyone, mostly kids, were crowding around the train station, watching it. James pushed through the crowd, he couldn't see anything. He could hear the train coming but he wanted to see. It wasn't every day that a train came unannounced into Twelve. In fact, the only trains that ever came in and out of Twelve were carrying coal to and from the capitol and once a year, the escort in and the tributes out for the Hunger Games. But sometimes, like today, there were new peacekeepers who arrived on a shiny Capitol train and everyone watched apprehensively.
James spotted Remus on a nearby fencepost and pulled himself up too.
Remus gave him a smile, "Alright Potter?"
James grinned at him, "Bloody fantastic. New peacekeepers ay?"
Remus frowned, "Yeah. I don't know about that. But a train is still exciting."
Pete didn't get up on the fencepost. He just sort of stood next to the two of them, wringing his hands.
The train pulled in and James marveled at its perfectly clean curved white edges with black streaks across it. The symbol of the Capitol emblazoned on its sides. It was quite small compared to other trains they'd had but still absolutely beautiful. It stood out like anything in grubby, dingy district twelve. James prepared himself to jump off the fencepost when the peacekeepers actually got off. But they didn't. Instead, the doors opened and the hand of a peacekeeper, pushed out someone else. James craned his neck to look closer. The peacekeeper stepped out after him. The person was wearing a Capitol suit. A billowing undershirt, waistcoat and jacket, some fancy looking tie that James thought looked like a noose. But it looked worse for wear. Tears and blood stains. The person wearing it stepped out into the light and James gawked. He was a kid. He couldn't be much older than James. He had long dark hair that fell thick and tangled around his face, he pushed a strand back, looking uncomfortably around at everyone. He had sharp features and cheekbones James thought you could probably cut glass on. His eyes were as dark as his hair but his skin was pale and he looked like he might be sick. James didn't blame him. There was dried blood on his forehead and his lip. He had a bruise around his eye and a hawkish look about him. He had clearly been in it rough. That, was incredibly unusual for a Capitol kid. The peacekeeper pushed him and he stumbled forward, hanging his head and looking away from the crowd. James exchanged a glance with Remus. He seemed just as confused. A hush had fallen over the crowd of onlookers. Who was this kid? Why was he here? He moved carefully down the steps of the train station, all the poise and etiquette of a Capitol boy but with positively shaking legs. The peacekeeper got back in the train and it sped off. The boy looked back at it and then back at the crowd. James watched him glance around. For several moments there was a hushed silence across the crowd.
James, as ever, was the first to speak.
“Who are you?” he yelled out to the boy, watching as his eyes scanned before glancing up and landing on James, above everyone else on the fence post.
The boy frowned for a moment, evaluating then he swallowed and spoke in a clear, crisp, capitol accent, “Sirius Black.”
James snorted, “That’s a ridiculous name,” he called.
The boy, Sirius, frowned, “Yes. Yes I suppose it is really.”
James glanced down the track at where the train was already a dot on the horizon, “Stayin’ are ya?” he asked as he turned back. The whole crowd was turning between James and the boy now, watching with hawkish gaze as the whole interaction went down.
Sirius frowned, nodding, “That seems to the plan yes.”
The boy glanced around at the shambles of the train station, fear filling his eyes. James made a very impulsive decision. He started forward down the fence and slid down the banister of the stairs at the train station to land in front of the boy.
He extended his grubby, coal stained hand and offered him a grin, “Welcome to Twelve.”
The boy, Sirius, stared at it and back up at him, apprehensive. Then he took it, his own hand pristine and incredibly thin. Clearly a boy who had never had to do much more than write with his hands.
“Thank you,” he said, quietly, so much more pain in his voice than when he was speaking to the crowd. James nodded.
There was a bell and the crowd began to disperse, hurriedly. Everyone dashing back towards their house.
Sirius looked around, frowning, “What’re they all doing.”
“Curfew,” James explained hurriedly, “Sorry, I have to go.”
He turned away to see Peter had left and Remus was still standing on the fence post, surveying the whole scene in typical Remus fashion, jaw clenched and brow furrowed, trying to solve the puzzle in front of him. He hurried halfway to Remus and then turned back to Sirius, “You got somewhere to stay?”
Sirius frowned, “Uh, no. Not exactly.”
James crossed back to him and held out an arm, already having clocked the boy’s limp. “Come back mine? Mum’ll fix you right up. You can stay there tonight.”
The boy nodded appreciatively but said nothing, linking his arm in James’ and allowing himself to be lead away. Remus jumped down off the fencepost and joined them as they hobbled off towards the other side of town.
The door swung open and Euphemia jumped up, hurrying around the small room to the entrance. When James' messy hair poked through, she immediately clipped him round the back of the head before wrapping an arm around his waist and rushing him inside.
"Ow. Mum!" James whined, stumbling into the doorway. Euphemia turned quickly to Remus who at least had the decency to look ashamed as he shut the door hurriedly behind him. Then she stormed back to the kitchen and ladled soup into their bowls.
"You're late," she gushed angrily, "I said back by curfew did I not boy? I've been worried sick. What if something had happened to you."
"Yeah slight complication though," James grumbled and Euphemia whipped around with a confused expression that quickly faded when her eyes fell on a boy, standing tall with his back perfectly straight and his hands behind his back, right next to James. He was an odd sight. Around James' age, Capitol clothing and make-up, torn and smudged. But all Euphemia noticed was that he was bleeding. She abandoned the soup and hurried over to him. He flinched and withdrew as she reached for his head where strands of hair covered a bloody wound. She retracted her hand and took a step back, carefully taking him in.
Then she gently said, "Sit down boy. What's your name?"
The boy slunk into the chair like he was a dead weight and Euphemia tutted sympathetically.
"Sirius," the boy muttered.
"I'm sorry," frowned Euphemia, not sure she heard him correctly.
"Sirius," the boy repeated, "Sirius Black, that's my name."
"Oh," Euphemia smiled, "Well don't you worry Sirius. We'll get you cleaned up and fed and then you can sleep alright?"
Sirius glanced up at her with confusion, studying her face for a few moments and then he said, "Thank you."
She nodded with a smile and hurried about, sorting things on the table, looking for something she could use to clean the wound.
"What happened to you dear?" she asked as she contemplated sending James outside for warm water.
The boy was quiet for a moment, taking deep rattling breaths. Euphemia hoped he wasn't sick.
Then he said, "I was caught. Found, sought out. I mean they dragged me away before they even came in with the bomb it's like..."
Euphemia frowned, glancing at Sirius and then up at James who looked equally confused. The boy was staring at the floor, he wasn't talking to any of them anymore. Euphemia shrugged and grabbed a lemon from the table. It would hurt like hell but it might just help disinfect the wound. And if it wasn't infected it would at least have sterile properties.
"Mother," she heard the boy mutter, "That wrinkly old hag."
She whipped around to look at Sirius with the same expression James was regarding him with. Remus snorted a cruel laugh.
And then the boy, apparently still lost in a world of his own muttered, "How did she know?"
And then his eyes widened and his face darkened and Euphemia spotted tears pooling at his eyes. He murmured a word softly enough that she couldn't hear it and then seemed to notice all of them watching him and shook his head, giving a small laugh and wiping his eyes, "Sorry, heh, just it's been a long day."
Euphemia frowned, "What happened to you dear?" she asked again, this time more purposeful, making eye contact he seemed desperate to avoid.
He shook his head, wiping his eyes again, "I-um, I was arrested for protesting and sent here as a punishment."
Remus laughed again a 'ha!' sort of sound that Euphemia found quite endearing, "I like this one," he shook his head, grinning.
"Protestin," James frowned, rubbing the back of his head like he did when he was thinking, "What were you protestin?"
Sirius looked up with a slightly guilty look, biting his cheek, "The Hunger Games."
He didn't regard it in the hushed tone that those in the districts would, but he did seem to recognise the weight of the words, the stifling silence they brought.
Remus was grinning in that impish way he did before saying something insensitive so Euphemia quickly grabbed a bucket off the floor and thrust it into his arms.
"Get me some water Remus, don't get caught."
Remus chucked her a salute, "Ma'am yes ma'am," he grinned and ducked out.
"What's his problem," Sirius grumbled.
"Whadya mean?" James asked, grabbing a bowl from the table and crossing to the fireplace to ladle soup into it.
"Why's he so happy?" Sirius said, rubbing his eyes and then seeming to immediately think better of it and wiping his hands on his trousers. He seemed to think better of that too, quickly retracting his hands and glancing up at Euphemia. She smiled at him and he looked sheepishly down at his hands.
James laughed, "He just finds you funny. Trust me, once you get to know him, happy is not a word you'll use to describe Remus."
Euphemia tutted at James who grinned at her.
Remus arrived back with the water several minutes later, Euphemia took it off him and kissed him on the head. She could always trust Remus to be quick, sneaky. He was incredible at staying out of trouble. She mixed lemon with the water and dipped a cloth into it, dabbing gently at Sirius' head.
"I'm sorry this is going to hurt," but he didn't even flinch.
"You're sure that's all the wounds," but as she crossed to get him soup from the fireplace she saw his trousers were bloodstained too.
"Everyone in the Capitol wears makeup," but when he cleaned his face, she saw the bruise he was covering, right across his eye.
They ate soup in silence, only the scraping of wooden bowls and the whistling of wind through the botched house filling the space around them. It was always the same sort of silence that came when a person in the room was as obviously beaten up as Sirius was. And Euphemia had an inkling not all of the boy's ailments were from peacekeepers.
There was a great shuffling of beds to accommodate for Sirius and in the end Remus swore loudly over their offerings and curled up on the floor like a dog. Euphemia felt a pang of guilt for that thought. James and Sirius bunked together and although she had offered several times for people to share with her, she ended up alone on her mattress, thinking about the boy in the bed beside her. She thought she would quite like to punch Sirius' mother right in the face. Even with all the privileged Capitol wealth she undoubtably had, she still couldn't treat her child right. She fell asleep with only the company of angry swirling thoughts towards a woman she didn't even know as the fire slowly died in the grate.
Sirius woke to the sound of birds, chirping in strange rhythms that didn’t quite sound right. He felt the itchy fabric of James’ sheets against his skin and the throb in his head that indicated a headache on its way. He opened his eyes slowly and allowed light and colour to filter into his head. It usually took him hours in the morning for the world to break his sleepy bubble of vague consciousness. But right now, he didn’t feel sleepy. He felt uncomfortable and sore.
He sat up, taking in everything about the room as the thin itchy blanket fell around his waist.
There were two beds, packed into the small room leaving the only patch of floorspace right in front of the doorway that had a few pieces of fabric hanging there instead of an actual door. A small window beside him was casting rays of light onto the opposite wall, exposing the peeling wood of the walls. Sirius had been in a few derelict buildings before. This wasn't that. Wrecks in the Capitol, historical buildings and the such likes, places he had been on field trips, you could see the wear overtime, the ruin that indicated it had once been nice. But this house had never been nice. The walls were thin and wind whistled through the boards and the roof where it had been haphazardly thrown together. As minimal material as possible, constructed in the little time they could spare for such a location to have some housing. Sirius was suddenly burning with rage. He sighed. He really didn't have the energy for that.
On the floor beside the bed was a brown glass of water. Though Sirius couldn't tell if the brownness was more to do with the water or the state of the glass.
He glanced up as the door creaked open and James wandered in with a grin.
“Morning,” he said with a hesitant smile, “How’d you sleep?”
“Bloody brilliant,” Sirius said sarcastically, giving James a smile that hopefully displayed his sincerest apologies because it really wasn’t James’ fault he didn’t sleep well.
James shrugged, “Yeah well. That ain't surprisin. Bet you have much nicer beds in the Capitol.”
Sirius sighed, the nuances of his sarcasm were lost on James, “No, it’s not that. I’m just- sore and had a lot of dreams.”
“Dreams?” James asked skeptically, lowering himself to sit across from Sirius on the bed, “Or nightmares?”
Sirius frowned at how upfront James was, “Nightmares. Unsurprisingly.”
James shrugged. Sirius looked away from him again, choosing to gaze up at the window. Something about the flickering sunlight was quite nice. He was too far down to see out but he appreciated it none the less. He scrunched his face, trying to think back to last night. It was suddenly bothering him that he could barely recall anything. He hoped he hadn't gotten a concussion. This boy was James and he liked James. This was his parents’ house and his mother had taken care of his wounds hadn't she. And there was another boy too.
“So,” James gave him a hopeful smile, “Breakfast?”
Sirius nodded eagerly, suddenly realising he hadn’t had anything to eat since dinner with his mother. His head swam at that thought before he decided he must have had dinner with James and his family because he wasn't that hungry. Well, he was, famished. But he didn't feel like throwing up like he did when he hadn't eaten in a few days. Sometimes his mother would refuse him food as a punishment. He was well acquainted with hunger. He shook his head as he followed James out of the house. He didn't need to think about any of that now.
The main area was just as small as the bedroom, one window, a fireplace and a round table that looked quite large but probably wasn't really were the only features aside from the monotonous wood and peeling plaster of the house. Euphemia was standing over a girl sitting at the table, inspecting her arm closely. Euphemia was tall and relatively thin. His mother would call her 'rounded' except that her arms were wiry thin and her skin leathery despite her hair not showing a hint of grey. Sirius vaguely wondered if she dyed it before remembering where he was. The girl at the table had curly ginger hair and from what Sirius could tell, the same figure as Euphemia. She looked as though she'd been crying. There was another girl with ginger hair, hers straight and drawn back into a messy bun, pacing back and forth in the small space, she had her back to Sirius but he could still tell that she was incredibly distressed.
"Morning Evans!" James called brightly to her, making for the table and sifting through the collection of things spread across it. She whipped around, looking feirce and angry. Sirius nearly had a heart attack.
"Piss off Potter."
She turned back to Euphemia, "Can you help her?"
Sirius, still lingering near the doorway, was quite sure he was having heart palpitations. Evans. Lily Evans. The winner of the 85th annual Hunger Games.
Euphemia sighed. "I can treat it."
"But?"
"But it won't do anything long term. You can treat them with topical antibiotic. I have a small supply. But you do that for a month, a year, it will keep the infection at bay but it will still be there. You stop applying it and the infection continues in its path and eventually..."
Sirius could hear the words as if they were echoing, filling the space around him, pressing against his ears. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Lily Evans. The girl he had watched stride boldly to the stage when her name was reaped. "Oh there's a contender." "Look at her properly Barty, thin as a twig. They always are in twelve." The girl he had watched gain everyone's favour in the Capitol with her snarky back and forth and witty banter. His mother had sponsored her. Sure she was a winner. The girl he had watched with rapt attention from his couch as she thought, fought and survived her way to victory. The girl who had broken down crying during her interview, winning over the heart of a nation. And Sirius had sat there in sympathy only while the television played sad music. And then he had forgotten. That evening, he had laughed as Regulus joked. Despite himself. Despite everything he claimed to believe.
"You alright mate?" James asked and Sirius' attention was dragged ruthlessly back to the room. The curly haired girl was crying again. Lily Evans looked furious. James was holding out a piece of bread. Sirius took it shakily.
"I'm fine," he said with a smile he hoped reassured James, he didn't need him thinking of him as some sort of weakling that broke down over seeing some girl, "Just, adjusting." He almost laughed to lighten the mood but bit his tongue when he realised the curly haired girl was still crying.
"So how do we make the infection go away?" Lily Evans demanded.
Euphemia sighed, "You'd need antibiotics."
"What're antibiotics?"
"You don't know what antibiotics are?" Sirius blurted before immediately regretting it.
Everyone turned to him and he looked sheepishly at his hands.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Lily Evans.
"Erm Sirius, Sirius Black I just thought- doesn't matter ignore me."
"You're that kid," said the curly haired girl, "The one from the train." She turned to Lily and said in a hushed tone, "He's from the Capitol."
Lily gave him a look filled with utter disgust, "Right," she said, dragging out the word in implication and scrunching up her nose as she turned away.
Sirius felt a bit offended. Not that he blamed her for hating the Capitol of course she would, of course she should! But that didn't mean she had to hate him. And then he thought of last summer, the way he watched her Hunger Games. Maybe that was absolutely what it meant.
He suddenly felt claustrophobic, so incredibly aware that he was in the room and he absolutely shouldn't be. He needed to run away. he needed to go home, where he belonged, where he wasn't a burden and an awful reminder to everyone he met. He took a deep breath. He couldn't spiral again. Not here. But the crashing realisation that he couldn't go home, was too much for him to bear.
But he at least had to hide it, he decided. So he pulled his face into a neutral expression and took the bread from James, it was stale but he didn't care.
"So how do we get antibiotics?" he could hear Lily Evans saying.
"They have to be shipped from the Capitol. For someone important, the mayor got treatment for his measles. But a member of government got it last year and they were denied their request. They're replaceable. I hate to say it Lily but Molly isn't important enough to-"
"She is to me!"
"And to me but not to the Capitol. They won't give her treatment."
"Would they give me treatment? If I say I have the measles..."
"I'd be in the mines by now most days," James muttered to Sirius, "But it's Sunday. Day off ya know."
"Lily that's a crime."
"I don't care! What're they going to do execute me!"
"No. They'd execute Molly."
"Mate you alright or do you just not talk often?"
"Well then it's up to her isn't it."
"I want to. I want to do it. Anything I can."
"C'mon let's go outside, I'll show you round town."
"You boys stay out of trouble yeah?"
"Yes ma'am!"
"Back by curfew!"
"Bye!"
The fresh air hit Sirius like a blast and he took a deep breath, letting the cold burn his lungs. His head burned and spun but light against his eyelids calmed him. He put his back against the wall of the house and slowly let his mind catch up to him. It was okay. He was here now and he had James who was incredibly nice. He would make a life for himself here. In a month or two he would look back and wonder why he ever wished for the Capitol, for his mother. He suddenly realised James hadn't said a thing and quickly opened his eyes, standing up straight, hands clasped behind his back, trying to look presentable. James stood in front of him with an incredulous expression.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Sirius felt his heart jolt. He had embarrassed himself. Of course he had. Jesus Christ, he couldn't make it five minutes into a new friendship without ruining it by having a mental breakdown. He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but missing and falling amidst apathy.
"I got a little headrush there. I'm probably dehydrated."
James snorted a laugh, "Not what I mean."
He strode forward to stand beside Sirius and copied his posture, hands behind his straight back, "Oh my dear chap what a fine day it is," he said it with mock seriousness and a ridiculous regal accent. Sirius rolled his eyes but couldn't help a laugh.
"Piss off," he blurted before immediately steeling himself, "I mean, I'm sorry that was rude I just-"
James raised his eyebrows in exasperation, dropping his respectful demeanour into a miners' slouch. "Oh my god mate, the Capitol must be so boring."
Sirius frowned, but felt a small laugh escape before he could stop it, "Yeah. It is."
James flung one arm around his shoulders and lead him forward through the rows of houses. Sirius felt an overwhelming sense of dread the further they walked. The houses were in neat rows on dead grass and the occasional struggling weed, a layer of dust and soot was settled over everything and was hazing through the humid air. Summer had been fading in the Capitol but the heat here was very apparent in the pressing sun. It felt almost as claustrophobic as the Capitol's dark buildings, narrow roads and overcast skies. Except here, the claustrophobia was from the stifling sense of misery that hung in the air. The birds chirping in a way that didn't sound right. The strange elongated vowels of the district accent as people called to one another, speaking in slang Sirius didn't understand. The rundown houses that Sirius doubted had ever been anything but ruin, small shack like things surrounded by abandoned buckets, boots. Cats slipped through the narrow gaps between houses, windows, where they existed were grime-y or streaky, people moved like mice throughout the houses, scurrying from one place to another as if a rat trap might close on them at any time. Others were slumped against the sides of their houses, doing something with their hands that Sirius couldn't quite identify. Many were smoking. The people wore dull simple garments, many of the women wore headdresses or tight buns. Most had a miner's slouch like James. All the men Sirius saw had short-cut hair and he was suddenly incredibly self-conscious of his own locks. And his short sharp accent, the way he stood up straight and his overly fancy clothes. He felt incredibly out of place. He tried to copy James demeanour, the way he held himself like he was the coolest person to ever grace the planet. Perhaps that was how district people were polite. The sort of trudge-y swagger James exhibited. If James noticed Sirius' efforts, he made no comment. Instead he was giving Sirius an introductory tour that seemed more than a little slapdash. Sirius' supposed he hadn't ever shown anyone around.
"So, welcome to twelve I guess. It's kind shit here but uh it's home. I promise all o' twelve dunit look like this. We live in the part of town for poor bastards. That's us. Poor bastards. It's called the seam by the way."
"Lily Evans isn't poor though. She'd be one of the richest people in town."
James shot him a perplexed expression, "Second only to the mayor's family yeah. She lives in the victors village now but everyone knows her in the seam. Dunno why really, her family were always merchants. Still, she only came cos Molly got sick and Molly a seam girl so she went to my mum when she got those weird lumps."
"Measles."
"Yeah sure. Measles. Anyway, mum's a healer so she can usually help people when they're sick or injured, as much as she can and people pay her for the privilege."
Sirius laughed a little, "Yeah, I know what a healer is."
"Aight," James snorted, "You have those in the Capitol."
"Mm," Sirius nodded, "We call them doctor's."
James frowned, "Why? That don't make no sense. I mean healers heal people but do doctor's doctor people?"
Sirius actually laughed out loud at that, the smile feeling good on his face, "Yes. Definitely."
James grinned and continued with his tour, "Usually round here, everyone'd be down the mines by now. Coal is our industry you know. But, Sunday is most people's day off. So, busy seam on Sundays."
"For church?" Sirius asked and James turned to him, brow furrowed with confusion.
"Church?" he snorted, "I guess. If you buy that shit. I don't but peter does."
Sirius nodded and then frowned, "Wait peter who's peter?"
"Peter's my merchant friend. Love the bastard but he's weirdly religious."
Sirius frowned. Last time he checked, friends didn't call each other bastards. He reminded himself firmly that he was in the districts now. Maybe that was normal. Based on all the bluntness he'd seen so far, he wouldn't be surprised. As they walked through twelve, James slowly explained everything. It didn't have a money system, Sirius quickly realised, everything was done through trading goods and services. Whether legally, or illegally. Every kid had to go to school until they were thirteen. After which point, only Sunday school was mandatory and the kids could go work in the coal mines. That seemed insanely young to Sirius but James told him it was a reform. Apparently, and unsurprisingly, all the merchants kids (merchants were the, relatively, rich business owners) kept doing full time school after thirteen. And usually they had to go home and help out at their parents business. The merchant section of town was much nicer apparently, but James took Sirius in the other direction, past the school and up a hill, where the coal dust hadn't quite reached, and a meadow stretched until fence became forest. The grass could actually grow here and it was remarkably beautiful in the glowing sun. Like the nicest of capitol days. Sirius found himself smiling though he wasn't quite sure why. James was grinning at him.
"Oi Potter!"
Sirius looked up to see a boy leaning against the fence surrounding the forest, the fence with an excessive amount of 'electric fence' and 'do not enter' signage plastered against it. Apparently not that electric.
"Remus!" James called, hurrying up to the boy. Sirius followed slightly more slowly, his legs still very sore and burning with the incline of the hill. "Look who I brought," James stuck a thumb out at Sirius who gave a little wave out of obligation.
The boy, Remus, gave a laugh that sounded more like he was just saying 'HA' really loudly. "Oi posh boy. How do?"
Sirius frowned. 'How do' was rather infamously a district 3 phrase.
But he could hear the boy's accent wasn't the same as James' and his mothers and Lily Evans. The same as every tribute from twelve. And 'Remus' was certainly not a district name. It was one of those fancy names from history books with 'us' at the end. Like Sirius, and Regulus. Sirius felt a fresh wave of grief wash over him. Regulus. He had left him there, alone with his mother. Regulus had warned him but had he listened?
"Yesterday morning I was going to be a doctor one day. Today I'm most likely going to die of measles in my twenties. How would you be doing?"
The boy snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes, "Get over yourself posh boy. The Capitols a living nightmare."
"For some of us," Sirius said slowly, contemplating the boy. He had definitely lived in the Capitol at some point, his accent, his name, his commentary. But as Sirius got closer and could see him properly, he thought he looked perfectly at home in twelve. Baggy t-shirt tucked into trousers held up with suspenders, tall but a scary sort of thin despite his broad shoulders, scruffy brown hair and a wispy beard. But what struck Sirius most about the boy were two thin scars running parallel across his face. From the tip of his left eyebrow all the way to a little past the right of his lips. An angry slashy kind of scar. He tried not to stare but he couldn't help it.
And besides, the boy seemed to be studying him right back. Sirius wondered what about him had struck the boys' eye. The cut on his lip that was stinging every time he pursed his lips, the sore feeling around his eye he knew all too well was a bruise. He hadn't found a single reflective surface in twelve yet to look at himself in but he was sure he was quite the sight.
He tucked his hair behind his ears, trying not to think about how scraggly it was.
"Anyway Lupin. What're you doin hunting today?"
"It's not my day off James it's just yours."
"Well you deserve a day off too."
"Why. So I can waste it like you are?"
"I'm showin him round town."
"So 'e can get spotted and end up in an 'ome."
"He won't end in a home. We're gonna take him in. Like we did with you."
Remus looked absolutely repulsed by that idea and Sirius couldn't help feeling a little offended.
"We can't afford 'im."
"We couldn't afford you," James countered, throwing Sirius an appeasing smile, "If our kindness is limited to what we can afford, there's no humanity in it."
"And people like him 'ave all the money in the world to be kind with and they don't. Where's the fucking humanity in that?"
"There isn't any," Sirius said coldly, "It's bloody disgusting. And don't say 'people like me' because me having a problem with that is the exact reason I ended up here."
Remus held his gaze for a while, his face blank but his eyes calculating. Then he turned back to James and said in a voice quiet enough to exclude Sirius but not so quiet that he couldn't hear, "He's not a fucking freeloader."
"He'll work," James assured Remus, matching his volume and conspiring tone.
"Not down the mines, skinny bitch won't last a day," He threw Sirius a sarcastic smile and he returned it, feeling a cruel twist of satisfaction at matching the boy's clearly relatively unmatched level of sass. He turned back to James as if he was going to say something, then he knelt down and stood up in a swift motion. Sirius frowned. The boy turned back to him and Sirius watched his fist swing. He ducked to the grass, staring up at Remus, mouth agape. The rock he had threw rolled down the hill. Remus grinned.
"See? He'll be good at it."
Sirius couldn't bring himself to tell the other boy why he ducked so quickly, or why his heart was still racing and his hands gripping the sides of his trousers out of instinct. He thought the sadistic glint in Remus' eye might mean that he knew perfectly well. But then in an instant, it was gone and he was clapping James on the back as the other boy muttered something in his ear. Sirius felt incredibly self-conscious. They were definitely talking about him.
Eventually, Remus grinned and turned away, ducking through the supposedly electrocuted fence and disappearing into the forest. Sirius watched him go, curiosity filling him with energy that was shockingly invigorating.
James led Sirius back down into the village, talking about finding some clothes for Sirius,
“You can’t stay in that mucky lot besides, you stick out like a sore thumb.”
Sirius didn’t need James to tell him that. They were passing through a part of town James called ‘The Hob,’ that gave Sirius the creeps, when Sirius spotted a girl watching them. Everyone had been looking at them. Sore thumb and all that. But it was a glance, widened eyes and confused expressions before the matter at hand became more pressing again. This girl was watching. Sirius had spotted her across the way when James stopped to talk to some frail old lady, brandishing her cane like she might murder him with it.
She had the frizzy curls that pooled around her face to her shoulders, everyone else’s he had seen had been braided and or in a tight bun. She had brown skin that was practically sparkling compared to the coal dust grime everyone else’s was coated in and a sly smile. And her dress. It was, relatively speaking, clean and layered fabric in a bright yellow and blue with little daises stitched into the hem. It was the most beautiful piece of clothing Sirius had seen since his arrival, which, while a low bar, was certainly striking.
And she was watching them, properly watching them.
“James?” Sirius asked tentatively, tapping the other boys’ shoulder, “Who’s that?”
James turned, looking a little exasperated, “Uh, McDonald. Mary. Go have a chat if you want. She won’t bite.”
He turned back to the cantankerous old woman. And while Sirius heart jolted at the prospect, he swallowed down his irrational fear and left James’ side.
He made his way carefully through the crowd, finding people stared more when he was on his own and wondering why. When he made it to Mary McDonald. She was no longer watching him. She was standing by a pole, searching through her pockets for something.
“Hi,” Sirius said tentatively.
Mary went still, staring at the ground in front of her.
“Hi.”
Her accent was even more extreme than James’. It seemed to take her two minutes just to say hi.
“You were watching me.”
Mary turned around, still grinning that sly smile, “You were worth watching.”
Sirius frowned. He didn’t know what that meant. It reminded him of when Reggie read him his poems and he just sat there in utter dismay because all he heard were words.
Sirius felt like crying and tried to banish thoughts of Regulus from his mind.
“How so?”
“You’re from the Capitol.”
“Yes,” Sirius paused waiting for her to demand an explanation. But she didn’t, so he gave her one anyway, “I was exiled for protesting the hunger games.”
The girl raised an eyebrow and laughed, “Real shit huh?”
Sirius didn’t know what that meant. So he said, “It’s really not that interesting I’m afraid.”
Mary shrugged, “Nothin’ much interestin happens round here. The bar’s real low.”
Sirius frowned, he didn’t know how to respond to that and before he could figure it out, the girl handed him a card.
“I know you’re new and they’ll probably hang me for suggesting it but,” she shrugged, “You should come. That address, tonight.” She flicked her eyes up and made a nodding up sort of gesture. Sirius followed her gaze and saw Lily Evans standing across the way. Looking impatient. Sirius frowned. Wondering how she got there so quickly.
“What is it?” he asked, glancing at the address scrawled on the card.
Mary, who was already walking away turned and smiled, “It’s a bar.”
Then, when Sirius still looked confused, she laughed, “You’ll see posh boy.”
Then she turned away again, before thinking better of it again and saying, “Tell Potter the invites for him.”
Then she hurried away, her dress and her curls bouncing with her energetic steps.
And Sirius hurried back towards James, wondering how long the nickname ‘posh boy’ was going to stick around for.