Sweaters, Apologies, and Panic
By the time Sirius walked into Professor McGonagall’s classroom on his fourth day back, it’s wearing Remus’s sweater, Peter’s tie, James’s snitch-patterned socks, and a collection of rings from Marlene and Lily. It’s a habit that he picked up in third year- stealing his friends clothes, and it hasn’t stopped since.
No one (including Sirius himself) knows why he finds such comfort in the Knickknacks he picks up from others, but they have their theories.
Peter thinks it has to do with the fact that Sirius never really had things because he wanted them, or a way of self expression. Peter reasons that Sirius started taking the Marauder’s things as a way to find himself away from his family.
Remus’s idea is a bit less deep and psychoanalytic, and more to do with his Canine side. With Padfoot wanting to have packmates’ smell around him to feel safe, or putting his scent on his pack’s things as a way of marking territory. Apparently, Remus had done something similar right after he was bitten.
No matter the reason, the rest of the school has simply accepted it as another quirk of the Gryffindor Kings.
Sirius does have a reputation to keep though. He can’t very well be Punk-Rock in Moony’s grandpa sweaters or James’ glasses. He normally keeps his acquisitions small or hidden (socks, bracelets that fit under his sleeves, ect.).
But after the… incident (fallout, ruining, awful, awful, awful), he hadn’t been allowed to touch Moony’s sweaters, much less wear them, and James and Peter had taken back their things in solidarity.
So that morning when he had found a jumper laid out on his bed after coming back from brushing his teeth, he decided his Punk-Rock reputation could stand to take a hit.
And he doesn’t regret it either, though he quickly realizes Moony’s much taller height and much longer arms mean the sweater has sleeves that get in the way of doing precise wand work.
This is why, instead of smoothly gliding across the desks and settling softly into James’s hand, a slight twitch in his hand slingshots his note right into the back of Benji Fenwick’s head.
The boy lets out a yelp, alerting Professor McGonagall of Sirius’s slip up. Sirius curses as she flicks her wand and summons the paper into her waiting hand. Time to turn on the charm.
“Mr. Potter-Black.” McGonagall calls. “Do you remember the warning I gave you the last time you were passing notes in my class?”
“Minnie darling, most beautiful woman to grace these grounds,” Sirius starts, ignoring his classmates’ sniggers.
“I see taking Potter's surname hasn’t taken the Sirius out of you.” She responds, used to the Marauder’s antics by now.
“You know McGonagall is the only last name for me.” He tries.
“You’re flirting won’t take the detention out of your Saturday plans either.” McGonagall says. “Six o’clock Potter-Black. Don’t be late.”
“It’s a date!” Sirius exclaims.
As much as Professor McGonagall keeps her stern facade around the 6th year Gryffindor boys, Sirius knows she has a soft spot for them. This is proven again whe, instead of tossing his note in the bin or simply vanishing it, she sets down on James’s desk as she walks by.
Sirius smiles as James reads what he’d scrawled their a few minutes earlier.
EMERGENCY. MEET IN KITCHENS OUT OF DINNER.
…
“Why are we here again?” James yawned, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.
“We’re making brownies!” Sirius responds, practically bouncing.
“Well I got that,” James says, motioning to the absurd amount of chocolate and flour that’s been laid out, “I meant why.”
“I just had a craving.”
James raised an eyebrow. “They’re for Moony, aren’t they.”
“They’re for Moony.” Sirius agreed. “Don’t look at me like that. I just- I ruined the last couple moons for him, and I want this one to be okay.”
Ruined was the understatement of the century. Even though he technically has Moony back, they both know it’s not the same. It will take Remus a long time to trust Sirius again, and that’s fair. He’s promised himself he’ll take what Remus is ready to give and nothing more. But he also remembers how his heart nearly burst out of his chest at the jumper on his bed, something that he’d previously taken for granted. Sirius is selfish, and anything that he can do to get Remus to smile at him rather than around him again is something worth the effort.
And nothing makes Remus smile without fail like chocolate does.
“Pads, don’t you think you’re trying a bit too-”
“Moony deserves all of it. If anything, I’m not trying hard enough.” Sirius insists. “Please, James.”
James sighed. “All right then. Let’s make the most mouthwatering apologie brownies your werewolf has ever seen.”
“I knew I could count on you!” Sirius beamed. “Oh, and one more thing you should know.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how to bake.”
They did figure it out eventually. With a lot of help from an extremely patient elf named Tannah, they got the first batch of brownies in the oven with only two fires, that were both put out before any serious damage was done.
As that first batch baked and James started mixing the next, Sirius took a moment to appreciate their handy work.
The counters were an absolute mess, every surface covered in stray flour and sugar. The smell of freshly baked chocolate wafted through the air. His best friend in the entire universe sat on one of the only vaguely clean counters, ranting about the Chudley Cannons’ new quidditch strategy.
It’s the kind of storybook scene that he and Leonora used to fantasize about on nights she would climb into his bed to distract the both of them from thunderstorms. The kind of childhood memory that neither got to live, but maybe the kind Sirius could make up for now. If only Leonora was-
A huge splat of batter hit him square in the face.
He blinked, staring over at where James was sitting with a shiteating grin.
“What in Merlin’s name was that for?” He asked, incredulous.
“You were doing that thing when you get stuck in your head instead of paying attention to me again.” James said as he flicked what was left of the whisk in Sirius’s direction.
“Oh, you’ll regret that.” Sirius challenged, grabbing a handful of flour and throwing it with all his might.
Momentarily, Sirius felt bad for the elves, who would have to clean up after them, and wondered if they should rein it in a bit. But that moment was extremely fleeting, and, soon enough, there were more brownie ingredients on their pajamas than in the brownies themselves.
In an attempt to knock the chocolate chips out of James’s grasp, Sirius flung his hands at his opponent’s arms. In a tangle of flailing limbs, the batter bowl fell to the ground and shattered with a resounding clang.
James is still laughing, but all Sirius can hear is the sound of glass on the floor.
And then it’s his mother shouting at him for breaking a century old vase and family heirloom, and Sirius is frantically crying apologies, but she just keeps yelling and he can see her raise her hand to-
When he shifts into Padfoot, it’s easier, but not by a lot.
He no longer hears his mother’s voice, he just feels dread and fear, fear, fear.
He backs into the corner and tries to get away from the person who’s approaching, because he knows that they’re going to hurt him.
He’s a whimpering, shaking mess and it takes him a few moments to latch onto the familiar scent of his pack mate.
Prongs! He thinks. What is Prongs doing here?
But the question is quickly pushed aside, because the important thing is that Prongs is here, and Prongs can protect him from the people who are going to hurt him!
Prongs slowly placed his hand on Padfoot’s back, carefully stroking his fur. He’s whispering reassurances that Padfoot can’t make out, but his ears perk up at his name.
They sit like that for a few minutes, black dog curled in his brother’s lap, and slowly the shaking stills.
“Can you change back now Pads?” James asks gently.
Padfoot cocks his head. Why would he do that? Being a human was messy. And humans never got as many pets.
“I want to talk to you.” James says. “Besides, it’s about time for the brownies to come out of the oven. You can’t eat chocolate while you’re a dog. I think. Maybe. We probably shouldn’t risk it.”
Oh. Padfoot stood in indecision. One the one hand there was chocolate. But there were also emotions. Eventually, Padfoot let out a huff and Sirius came back.
James immediately wrapped him into a tight hug. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.” Sirius says as he pulls away.
James frowns for a second before shaking his head and offering a small smile.
“Okay then. Let’s get these brownies out of the oven. The chocolate isn’t going to taste itself!”
Once again, Sirius is reminded how much he loves his brother.