Cherry Wine

The rest of the week was fairly eventful. By Sunday afternoon, Sirius and James had managed to rack up no less than six detentions each. Peter had been given three, and Remus, ever so elusive, had managed not to get any at all, despite being the mastermind behind the majority of the group's antics. They had launched water-balloons at the Hufflepuffs, charmed the Ravenclaws spellbooks to be unable to open, and broken into the Slytherin common room and decorated it with pink streamers and bows once all the inhabitants had gone to sleep. (The password was Salazar , which really, Sirius thought, was just too easy). James and Sirius had also hit Severus with several jelly-leg hexes, but Severus had been the first to pull out his wand in each of those instances. Sirius had managed to dodge all of his attacks, because, quite frankly, compared to Mother, Snape had very shitty aim when it came to hexing people. James himself had only been hit twice, once by a leg locker curse and once by a mysterious spell that had caused his tongue to turn a rather bright shade of blue and swell to the size of their History of Magic textbook. He seemed to have thought it was very funny, however, and Sirius quite agreed. Regardless, James and Sirius now found themselves in McGonagall's office for what might have been the billionth time already.

“Would either of you care to explain why Mason Avery turned up in the hospital wing earlier today with seaweed growing out of his ears?” She asked them sternly, her hands interlocked on her desk as she leaned forward slightly in her chair. Sirius and James looked at eachother. Remus had done that one, actually, after Avery had called Lily a mudblood. Remus had taken quite a liking to Lily, the two of them studying in the library together often.

“Well,” James began, leaning back in his own chair and crossing his legs, “Minnie, may I call you Minnie?”

“You most certainly may not.”

“Minnie,” he continued anyway, which led her to roll her eyes, “I’m sure that Mr. Black and I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“As hilarious as that is,” Sirius added, “and as much as we wish we had been the ones to carry out such a deed, James and I have an alibi.”

“An alibi?” McGonagall questioned, raising her eyebrow in hidden amusement.

“Why yes,” James nodded, “We do. You see, Minnie-”

“Professor.”

“ Professor Minnie,” James corrected himself, “Sirius and I were serving detention with Professor Slughorn all morning, so we cannot possibly be the culprits you're looking for.” McGonagall considered this.

“Peter, then,” she concluded. Once again, Sirius found himself amazed at the staff's lack of consideration that Remus was a possibility. 

“Serving detention with Professor Flitwick for the water-balloon incident,” Sirius countered. She frowned, sighing to herself. 

“Alright, then,” she waved them off, standing up, “you two may go.” The boys stood up, grinning with victory.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” James said as they turned to leave, “Can’t wait to make your acquaintance again soon.” The boys turned and left, a spring in their step as they closed the door behind a very defeated-looking McGonagall. Oh, how Sirius loved Hogwarts. 

“C’mon,” James said, locking his elbow with Sirius’s, “we don’t want to miss lunch!” Sirius just followed him, although he very much so did want to miss lunch. Lunch was when the owls typically dropped off post for the students, and Sirius still hadn’t heard from his parents. The anticipation was killing him. He couldn’t tell if it would be worse for his parents to stop speaking to him altogether or to berate him for his Sorting. At least if he was in trouble it would mean they cared about him in their own, twisted way. But then he thought about what being in trouble meant, really, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go home again. He was either going to be shunned by them completely or punished. Neither of those scenarios brought him much comfort. In any case, he couldn’t control how they were going to react, so he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind as he entered the Great Hall. He sat himself down between Remus and James and listened absentmindedly as James and Marlene discussed upcoming Quidditch tryouts. He had managed to finish half his sandwich when the owls came swooping overhead. He shut his eyes, still unsure if he was hoping for a letter or the absence of one. When the sound of wings flapping ceased, he opened them slowly, and he could swear his heart quit beating all together for a moment. A letter. In front of him. On the table. Stamped with the Black family crest. His breath started to pick up, and he felt as though the chatter of the students surrounding him muffled, because all he could hear was his rapid heartbeat in his ears, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe , because they were going to kill him, he was going to die, they were going to hurt him so bad and he didn’t know if he could handle that kind of pain and what was he going to do what was he going to do oh my god-

“Sirius?” It was Remus who brought him back to Earth, who set his hand gently on Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius flinched away violently before remembering he was not, in fact, in Grimmauld Place.

“Hm?” was all that he managed to choke out. His eyes were still fixated on the letter. He couldn’t look away, no matter how desperately he wanted to. 

“Are you okay, mate?” asked James, who had refrained from touching him after witnessing how well that went for Remus. Sirius could only nod. It felt like all of his muscles were so tense he was almost frozen. It wasn’t for almost a minute that he realized he was tensing himself in preparation for a blow. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, willing himself to relax. There was no need to make a fool of himself in front of the entirety of Gryffindor house. James glanced at the letter that sat like a loaded weapon in front of Sirius and seemed to realize what was happening. Wordlessly, he picked up the letter, and Sirius snapped his head to face him, to snatch it back, but James just shook his head. 

“I’ll read it,” he said softly, “I’ll read it and I’ll tell you if there's anything important you need to know.” Sirius’s throat felt very dry. Every first year at the table was watching the two of them with bated breath. 

“I-” Sirius began, “They’ll be, they won't be-” He found that he couldn’t get the words out. He knew they would be livid, and their anger felt private, like something he needed to guard, something just for him to carry. But James had come to feel like an extension of himself. He wanted to warn him about what he might read, but he didn’t know how.

“I know,” James stopped him, “I know. I’ll read it and I’ll give you the gist, okay?” Sirius just nodded, biting his nails furiously as James opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. He watched with intense concentration as James’s eyes darted across the page, trying very hard not to flinch at every furrow of his brow. It felt like they sat like that for ages, with James reading the letter and Sirius reading his expressions. Finally, James finished the letter and cleared his throat, expression blank. He burned it with a flick of his wand and led Sirius out of the Hall and into an empty corridor by his hand. Once they were alone, James pulled him into what was perhaps the tightest hug Sirius had ever been given. He flinched from the touch at first, still incredibly on edge, but then he breathed in James’s scent– that mixture of berries and forest leaves and mischief, and he settled into the embrace like a second nature. They stayed like that for a while, two intertwined souls in a corridor, until Sirius finally pulled away. 

“What did it say?” He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. James just shook his head.

“Other than the- uhm,” James began, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Numerous threats on my life I’m sure,” Sirius finished for him, stone faced. James just nodded sheepishly.

“Yes, yes, other than that, they just said that they wanted you home for Christmas and not to owl your brother. Something about filling his head with dangerous ideas.” Sirius considered this. He had expected to be told not to contact Regulus, and though it pained him greatly, he hadn’t tried to send him any letters anyways because he knew they would be intercepted. His being summoned for the holiday, however, was intriguing. It couldn’t mean good things, obviously. 

“Did they say why they want me there for Christmas?”

“Well, not exactly. But I don’t think you should go.” James looked like a deer in headlights. It made Sirius feel guilty, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

“If they've summoned me, James… I mean, you read what they're like. I can’t just disobey that.” James bit the inside of his lip in thought. 

“What if you stayed at my house instead? Just don’t tell them where you’re going! My parents would love to have you. You could be a Potter!” This sentiment, while completely delusional, made Sirius feel very warm inside. He had never felt wanted by anyone other than Regulus. He hadn’t ever considered anyone else would care. 

“I wish I could, James, but I have my brother, and if I were to leave, that would make him the Heir, and I just can’t do that to him.”

“Fine. You’ll go for Christmas, but you’re staying at my house for the summer holidays. I’m your family, now, okay? I promise we’ll figure something out.”

“Okay,” said Sirius, finding it very hard not to believe anything that came out of James Potter's mouth. The boys embraced once more before heading back into the Hall, and Sirius felt, for the first time in his life, that he might not be completely alone after all. 

That thought, while comforting, did not stop his brain from feeling very staticky the rest of the day. He and James sat back down at the table and Sirius ignored the way Remus watched as he didn’t touch any of his food, and he ignored Marlene and Mary’s incessant whispering to each other, and he ignored the fact that James didn’t eat anything else either, but he just couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach that said danger danger danger danger . He served one of his many detentions in the late afternoon, shining trophies for filch, and tried very desperately not to look at his distorted reflection in the gold plating for fear of seeing his mother staring back at him.

Sleep did not come easy that night. Sirius found himself tossing and turning, fiddling with his Heir ring that wrapped around his ring finger like a collar wraps around the neck of a dog. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he woke up in a cold sweat, vivid memories of cold office floors and searing pain and hot tears plaguing his nightmares. He didn’t want to put anything else on James, so he hadn’t told him earlier, but he was so terrified. He was petrified at the idea of returning home for the holiday. It was still months away and he was already shaking like a leaf just thinking about being back in Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know what to do with that level of fear. Usually at home, he was punished so soon after making a mistake that there wasn’t time for him to even think– it was just pain until it was finally over. He found that the anticipation was just as torturous. 

The third time he jolted awake from a nightmare, his stomach began to tighten and contort with pain and his throat filled with intense nausea. He sprung out of bed, gagging, and just barely made it to the toilet before he started to throw up. He held his hair back with one hand, and gripped the toilet paper holder with the other as he retched, over and over and over until it was just bile, and he was still throwing up. After some time, he began to make out a soft knocking at the door over the round of his own ragged breathing.

“Sirius?” James called, “Are you okay? Let me in, please.” Too exhausted to even stand up fully, Sirius crawled over to the door and unlocked it before going back to his spot over the toilet.

“Merlin- fuck, Sirius-” A very distressed-looking James sputtered out, shutting the door behind him and quickly going over to hold back Sirius’s hair for him, “Should we take you down to the hospital wing?” Sirius just shook his head, dry heaving a couple times.

“No,” he choked out, “No, I think it’s slowing down- I just- I don’t know what happened.”

“Was it something you ate?” Another bout of retching and subsequent sick.

“No,” he wiped his mouth with his pajama sleeve, “I didn’t- ugh- I didn’t even eat dinner.”

“Then what–” James started, but was quickly interrupted, “Merlin, Sirius! How much bile does a person even have?”

“Clearly,” Sirius breathed, barely able to keep his eyes open, “clearly a lot.”

“Mm,” James hummed in agreement, looking worriedly at Sirius’s slumped form, “That’s enough, I’m taking you to Madam Pomfrey right now .”

“But-”

“No buts,” James said firmly, clearly in his element, “I’m going to go wake Remus to help me bring you.” Sirius wanted very much to argue, to tell James not to wake poor Remus, that he was fine, but he couldn’t even stop vomiting long enough to finish a sentence, and the room was spinning, and he was so, so tired , so he just slumped over the toilet bowl further and hummed in acknowledgement. James hurried back into the dorm, and Sirius could do nothing but listen to him frantically whisper to Remus before the two of them entered back into the bathroom. Sirius glanced up at Remus, wanting to apologize for being the reason he was awake, but he took one look at him, at his disheveled, honey-toned hair and wrinkled pajamas, the way the yellow light of the bathroom reflected off of his face, his freckles dotting his cheeks in complex constellations, and he found himself throwing up yet again. 

“Wow, James, you weren’t kidding,” was all Remus could muster to say.

“Yeah,” James said, eyes darting around the room as he tried to work out how to get Sirius to the hospital wing without turning the entire common room into a biohazard, “here, why don’t you hold onto the rubbish bin while we go downstairs in case you need to be sick again, Sirius?” Sirius nodded his head, and James helped him to his feet as Remus emptied the bin (which was filled to the brim with candy wrappers and undone homework assignments) onto the ground. Sirius gripped the bin tightly as James and Remus led him quietly out of the dorm and through the common room, willing himself not to be sick again at least until they made it to Madam Promfrey. He figured that he must have lost quite a lot of fluid, because even with Remus and James helping him to walk, his legs felt quite unstable and his head was pounding. They were just outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady when James set Sirius down against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked James frantically, kneeling down and rubbing Sirius’s back as he heaved yet again. 

“I don’t think he should even be walking right now. I’m going to go and see if I can find some help and bring them to us.”

“Okay,” said Remus, settling down fully next to Sirius, who was trying to decide whether or not this was how he was going to die, “just be quick, then.”

“I will,” nodded James, taking off into the dark corridor. Sirius sighed and rested his head on Remus’s shoulder.

“If you throw up on me,” Remus said, very seriously, “I’m going to kill you.” Sirius just laughed, albeit weakly. 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your precious sleep jumper, you do wear it every night.”

“That is false information you’re spreading,” Remus gasped, feigning offense, “I’ll have you know I wear my backup sleep jumper every third Wednesday.” Sirius laughed again before retching over the bin. 

“Ughhh, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“Sorry, I tend to have that effect on people.”

“What? Pain?” Sirius smirked, turning to Remus and raising an eyebrow.

“No, you tosser! Laughter! I’m incredibly hilarious.”

“Mhm, sure,” said Sirius, now fighting to keep his eyes open.

“I am!” 

They sat for a few minutes more before James came running back toward the pair, a very disheveled-looking Professor McGonagall not far behind him, dawning a long braid and tartan pajamas. 

“Merlin’s beard!” She exclaimed, summoning a stretcher for him immediately with so much as a flick of her wand, “I’ll get you down to Madam Pomfrey right away. Thank you very much Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin, you may now both return to your dormitories.

“No way!” they both argued in unison, following her and the barely-conscious Sirius down the hall.

“We can’t just leave him!” said Remus, speeding up his stride to match McGonagalls. She rubbed her temples as they continued to make their way to the hospital wing before sighing in defeat.

“Very well,” she relented, “but I highly doubt Poppy will allow the both of you to stay for very long.”

“We can be very convincing,” countered James as they turned a corner. 

“Yes, I’m well aware.” 

Finally, they made it to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey seemed to already have been waiting for their arrival. She transferred Sirius from the stretcher onto one of the hospital beds, which frankly had no business being that comfortable when sleep was so tempting and yet so dangerous. James and Remus each took a seat on the bed opposite him, being much quieter than usual for fear they would be sent back to the common room. Madam Pomfrey ran several tests, both muggle and magical, before handing Sirius a small vial of an unknown potion. 

“Drink this,” she said plainly, “it will stop you from being sick any further.” Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. He drank the vial, and while it wasn’t pumpkin juice by any means, he found that the pain in his stomach settled significantly. 

“Very good, darling,” she said softly, which made Sirius’s cheeks burn in praise. She pressed a cool hand to his forehead and frowned before turning around and rummaging through her medicine cart for a few moments. “The dehydration has given you a fever,” she told him, turning back to him and handing him a glass of water and a white tablet. “Take this, it will help.” He popped the tablet into his mouth and gulped down the water very quickly, only realizing after the liquid touched his lips just how thirsty he was. Madam Pomfrey refilled the glass and had him drink it a few more times before she was satisfied, at which time she turned around to face James and Remus. 

“Boys,” she began, “I know that you want to stay with your friend, but he needs rest right now. I assure you that come morning, I’ll allow you to come and see him, yes?”

“But-”

“No, buts, James,” interrupted McGonagall, who had been gazing worriedly at Sirius the entire time with such intensity that it made him want to squirm, “I’ll write the both of you, and Peter, I suppose, a pass to skip tomorrow's morning study hall so you can come and sit with him so long as you cease your arguments right now.” Remus looked at James, who looked at Sirius, who nodded his head as if to say I’m okay, you can go, I’ll be okay .

“We’ll be back before you know it, mate,” said Remus, shooting him an apologetic glance. 

“See you in the morning, then,” mumbled James, who was clearly not satisfied with the idea of leaving until Sirius was 100% healed. Regardless, Professor McGonagall led them both out of the hospital wing and Sirius was left alone with Madam Pomfrey. She fluffed his pillow for him and dimmed the lights before sitting down at the foot of his bed. 

“Sleep will be the best medicine,” she told him, looking at him like she was trying to dissect his psyche with her eyes. He looked down, fidgeting with the wool blanket. 

“I can’t,” he spoke ashamedly, “It’s like my brain won’t let me.” He wanted to explain further, to tell her that he thought the nightmares had cursed him, that his fear had manifested itself so physically that he was certain they had been the reason he couldn’t stop being sick. It was like his mother was already punishing him before Sirius had even had to return home. He wanted to tell her that, he wanted to tell her everything, but, as usual, he didn’t know how. She looked at him curiously for a moment, but then it seemed that she understood perfectly what he was trying to convey.

“Do you think a potion for a Dreamless Sleep might help?” He looked up at her and nodded furiously. A nightmare-less sleep. It sounded heavenly. 

“Very well then,” she said, standing up and rummaging again through her medicine cabinet before handing him an almost pear-shaped vial. He drank it almost faster than he had the water and promptly passed out before he could even say thank you.

When Sirius woke up, feeling more refreshed than he had in ages, it was Remus who was sitting at the foot of his bed, his brows furrowed in concentration as he hunched over a sheet of parchment.

“Eucgh, get that homework away from me before I start to throw up again,” Sirius said, his voice groggy. Remus perked up immediately, flashing him a grin before folding up the parchment.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” he teased, “how're you feeling?”

“Just spectacular, thanks for asking.”

“Mm, I figured as much.” Sirius sat up a little in the bed, still getting his bearings. 

“Where are James and Peter?”

“Oh, am I not enough for you? How very hurtful,” Remus said dramatically before continuing, “They went down to the Great Hall to grab us all some breakfast.” Sirius just nodded at this, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. They sat in silence for a beat, and then,

“I’m sorry James woke you up last night, I didn’t mean to cause a big fuss.” Remus scoffed, shuffling over to sit next to Sirius at the head of the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You were sick, so we helped you. That’s what friends do,” he assured him, bumping their shoulders together. Sirius just nodded. 

“I’m sorry anyways.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be.”

“I know.” They sat silently again before Remus pulled out his homework again. With a glance, Sirius could tell it was star-charts for Astronomy, and he could also tell that Remus was not very apt at it. He laughed a little.

“Oh, like you could do any better!” Remus said, not unkindly. 

“I could, in fact,” countered Sirius, grabbing the parchment from its spot on Remus’s lap and the quill from his hand. He hadn’t paid even a spot of attention during last week's class, instead opting to drop chocolate frogs off the end of the astronomy tower with James and Peter to see how long it would take for them to break. Regardless, he understood the assignment perfectly. Much to his dismay, he had been forced to study the stars his entire life. Remus just watched with impressed amusement as Sirius crossed out mistakes and filled in blanks before handing the completed chart back to him. 

“Damn.”

“Told you!” Remus laughed, gathering his things together before putting them back in his rucksack. Sirius watched as his calloused hands slid the parchments back into their respective folders, taking note of the scars that painted his wrists in such a way that it looked as though Remus’s skin was fighting not to break open entirely and reveal something much bigger hidden underneath. Remus must have caught him staring, because he quickly pulled down his robes to cover his arms more completely and cleared his throat. Sirius opened his mouth to apologize, but instead what came out was, “I have them too, you know.” Remus snapped his head toward Sirius to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised in shock.

“Have- have what?” He implored, almost nervously.

“Scars,” whispered Sirius. Remus just blinked at him, taking in the information slowly. It seemed as though he didn’t know what to say, so Sirius brought his knees close to his chest and lifted up the leg of his pajama pants, where three long, red scars were etched onto his femur, perfectly parallel to each other. He had gotten them attempting to dodge the cat-o-nine tails. 

“Oh,” said Remus, rather dumbly, before lifting up his own pant leg and showing Sirius what looked almost like a firework made out of scars in exactly the same place. His were different. Less controlled. More sporadic. 

“How did you get them?” It was Sirius’s turn to say something rather dumb. Remus just blanched, apparently still slightly shocked by the conversation. 

“How did you get yours ?” He countered, crossing his arms and raising his brow defiantly.

“Hm. Touche.”

“How about a scar for a scar? I’ll tell you about one of mine and you tell me about one of yours.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

“Okay.” Remus turned around so that Sirius was looking at the back of his head, before lifting up some of his hair and revealing a rhombus-shaped scar where his neck met his skull. He faced Sirius again, clearly fighting laughter.

“You cannot tell a soul about this, okay?”

“Okay…” Sirius agreed, albeit very suspiciously.

“Alright. So there's this huge oak tree in the back garden at my parents house, and when I was younger I used to climb it all the time. One day, when I was like, I dunno, six? I was maybe halfway up the tree when I got startled by a bird and I got so scared that I started flailing around and I fell out of the tree and landed on a big rock, hence the scar.”

“Oh my god. A bird?”

“A bird.”

“You split your head open. On a rock. Because of a bird.”

“Precisely.”

“Was it at least a large bird? A scary one?”

“I would argue that all birds are scary, but no. It was a hummingbird.” Sirius burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The great Remus Lupin. Afraid of a hummingbird. Fell out of a tree . It was just too good. Just then, as Sirius was very busy making numerous bird noises, James and Peter burst through the door, carrying an array of food, none of which were breakfasty. Upon seeing that he was indeed alive, James dropped his pile of candies onto the side table and pounced on top of Sirius with such force that Remus nearly fell off the side of the bed. 

“Sirius!! I missed you, mate!” Sirius hugged him back, grinning from ear to ear as Peter took a seat on the foot of the bed and handed Remus a box of Bertie Botts. 

“It’s not like he was in a coma,” Peter laughed, before gagging at the taste of what appeared to be a nasty flavor of jelly-bean, “It’s been one night .”

“One long, agonizing night,” corrected James.

“Emphasis on agonizing, ugh, I don’t think I’ll ever look at a rubbish bin the same way again,” added Sirius, who was now lying squished between Remus and James on a bed that was clearly not made for more than one person. 

“What happened anyway?” Asked Peter, now fiddling with a chocolate frog container, “Do you think someone hexed you?” Sirius just shrugged. Admittedly, he was fairly certain it was nerves combined with sleep deprivation, but that felt embarrassing, so he didn’t say it. 

“I’ll bet it was Snivellus. The wanker. We’ll get him back good, Sirius, ooh, or better yet, we’ll get all of Slytherin!” said James excitedly, puffing up his chest in a manner that made him look incredibly ridiculous. Sirius felt that some mischief was exactly the kind of medicine he needed, and so the boys spent the rest of the morning in the hospital wing planning the demise of Slytherin house. They came up with a whole lot of nothing, and Sirius was released from the wing by lunch, but not before Madam Pomfrey gave him a few more vials of Dreamless Sleep potion to last him the week. 

The boys made their way down to the Great Hall, egos bruised from their failure at coming up with any good pranks to pull on the Slytherins. They sat down in their usual spots, an almost immediately after seeing Sirius, all four of the Gryffindor-first year girls came running toward them.

“Sirius!” said Marlene, who was perhaps Sirius’s favorite of the bunch, “Peter told us you’d been sick! What happened?” Sirius shot a quick glare at Peter, who shrugged sheepishly in apology.

“James went a couple days without showering and the smell made me terribly ill,” said Sirius, quite seriously. James socked him on the shoulder as the girls laughed, Lily being the loudest. Remus, who had been busy making both he and Sirius’s plates, gasped, dropping the sandwiches. Sirius turned to him.

“What happened?” He asked, fearing that he was contagious and going to have to conjure up a rubbish bin for Remus. But Remus just smiled, and pulled Sirius closer to whisper in his ear. After a few moments, Sirius jumped back in excitement.

“Oh my God that’s perfect!” he yelled, perhaps a bit too loudly as some of the Hufflepuff students turned around to glare at him. Not paying them any mind, he grabbed James by the scruff of his robes and pulled him away from the table and out of the hall toward the library, Remus and Peter following behind them. 

“What are you doing?” asked James, but he followed nonetheless.

“Remus came up with the most brilliant idea! Tell them, Remus,” Sirius said, giddy with excitement as they walked. 

“Well, Sirius joking about your smell making him sick gave me an idea,” he said, lowly enough that passing students couldn’t hear, “what if we stuck a nasty smell to all of the Slytherins robes and then made it impossible for them to get them off?” James’s eyes grew wide and his stride turned to something akin to a skip.

“It’s perfect, Remus! I could kiss you!” said James as they turned the corner into the library. They all sat down, pulling out bits of parchment and charms books and quills. Lunch wasn’t over for another 45 minutes. 

“But how are we going to get them to put the robes on if they smell so bad?” asked Peter, a valid question. They thought about it for a moment, stumped. James flicked through his fifth year charms book (which he had borrowed from a particularly nice older Gryffindor named Frank Longbottom for prank ideas) and landed on a page titled “ Delayed Charms ”

“Ahah!” he said proudly, “that's it! We just have to put the stink spell on a timer, so the robes won't start to smell until after they've been put on! We could set it to activate at breakfast!”

“Brilliant, Jamesy-boy,” said Sirius wrapping his arm around James’s shoulder and grinning like a madman.

“It’s settled then,” concurred Remus, very proper indeed, “Peter and I will research a spell that will keep them from getting the robes off, and you and James will research one to make the robes stink!”

“This is going to be so good ,” James said, and Sirius smiled as he was reminded of their first potions class. 

Not that it would have been news to anyone, but Sirius did not pay attention in any of his afternoon classes. He was far too busy researching for the robes prank, which, he felt, was much more important than History of Magic or Transfiguration. Or, at the very least, it was much more interesting. Sirius had always had a knack for mischief. Now, of course, with friends like James and Remus and Peter, it was amplified, but it had never not been there. When he was younger, he was forever doing anything he could to be a nuisance, always doing something like hiding his mothers best silverware or drawing mustaches on all of the portraits. His mother made sure he was punished accordingly, but it never mattered to him. It was like, in some strange way, causing chaos in his external world seemed to lessen the intelligible jumble of anxiety that brewed within him. He was constantly in a state of panic or disarray, and forcing the rest of the world to feel that too almost made him feel normal. All this to say, after last night, Sirius intended to put his heart and soul into this prank, viewing it as a much needed distraction. He had checked out every upper-level charms book he could from Madam Pince and was sitting in the common room after everyone had gone to sleep, taking notes on the most promising spells as the embers from the fire began to die out. The armchair he was snuggled into was entirely too comfortable, but he didn’t want to risk falling asleep without the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him, and they were sitting hidden underneath his bed in the dormitory. He didn’t want to go to sleep, anyhow. He needed to keep researching. He liked feeling like he had something to do (schoolwork didn’t count, obviously, most of his classes were way too easy. This was a challenge). It was as he was rubbing his eyes, willing them to continue to stay open that none other than Lily Evans came pattering down the stairs of the girls dormitory in her pajamas. He groaned internally. Lily was nice enough within the group of Gryffindors, but she was always hanging around Snivellus and then scolding Sirius and James for messing with him. How anybody could be around Snivellus for more than a few minutes and not understand the urge to turn him into a dung beetle, Sirius would never know. She seemed just as surprised to see him awake as he did her, but she didn’t say anything. She took a seat on the chair to the left of him and pulled out a few letters, each with the same, neat, cursive handwriting. She fidgeted with them and stared absentmindedly into the dying flames. Sirius recognized the feeling. 

“Letters from home, then?” He asked, closing his charms book. He had found a new challenge for the night. She kept staring into the fire, but her grip on the papers seemed to tighten slightly. 

“None of your business,” she snapped, but seemed to regret it, because then she sighed and said, “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay. I get like that too, sometimes. You know, when people ask about something I’d rather not even be thinking about.” She smiled and looked down at the pile of letters in her lap. They seemed to weigh on her like a boulder. 

“They're from my sister,” she said quietly. Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. 

“I take it she isn’t your biggest fan, then?” Lily just snorted, a sad kind of smile playing on her lips. 

“No, she isn’t. She hasn’t been very kind since the day I got my letter, so it’s nothing entirely new, but it’s just hard to read something so mean from someone who's supposed to love you, I guess.”

“I know how you feel. Do you remember yesterday, at lunch, when I got that letter?”

“The one James read for you?”

“Yeah. That was from my mother. I couldn’t- I couldn’t even open it. So you’re a hell of a lot braver than me, if that’s anything to go on.” She frowned and looked up at him through her lashes. He pretended not to notice the tears in the corners of her eyes. 

“I think I’m just more naive. A part of me hoped that maybe me being gone would lead her to come around– to want to be sisters again. I was stupid to think that.”

“You weren’t,” said Sirius, who was unable to believe that the first person at Hogwarts he was going to talk about his feelings with was Lily Evans, “I get that way, too.” She rested her elbow on the side of her chair and set her head in her hands, her brilliant green eyes boring into Sirius’s own.

“You do?” Sirius just nodded.

“I do. No matter how many times my parent’s tell me that I’m a disgrace, or, or a disappointment or whatever, I still manage to convince myself that they're going to come into my room and hug me or- or say they’re sorry or something. So if you’re naive then I am, too.”

“Huh. Y’know, you’re not so bad, Black,” Lily said, the letters forgotten, if only for a moment, in the crevices of the chair cushions.

“Cheers, Evans. You’re not so bad either.” Sirius found himself realizing, now for the second time, that he was not entirely alone in the world.