The Beginning
It had begun one sunny day in The Lair, with the suns rays beating in through the warped tin, filling the room with stifling heat. The small standing fan they had procured from the side of the road chugged out an unsteady stream of air, it’s efforts doing nothing to cool the room’s inhabitants.
“I have an idea.” James had declared from his position in a gaudy red bean-bag-chair dropping his phone into his lap dramatically.
And that had been the start of it. The start of the best thing to ever happen to Sirius Black. Or possibly the worst.
He hadn’t been there at the time. He wouldn’t be involved until several weeks later, but he had heard them tell the story so many times before that he could picture it in his head as clear as if he had been a fly on the wall.
That was all he had now anyway, stories and pictures and memories.
Remus had been sprawled out on the couch, a battered old thing that had lived at least three lives in James’ mum’s basement before it had found it’s way to The Lair. There was a book in his hand, Pride and Prejudice, The Song of Achilles, Murder on the Orient Express, it seemed to change each time the story was told. He wasn’t really reading it, staring blackly at the page, brain foggy in the sweltering heat, but he glared at James like he he interrupted him just the same.
“Well that’s dangerous.” He had replied in his deadpan tone. Sirius remembered hating it, when they had first met, he wasn’t sure how that had ever been the case now.
“Just hear me out, Remus.”
At this Remus had closed his book, rotating his head in James’ direction and raising a singular eyebrow. When he told the story James would mimic the expression, but he didn’t look nearly as hot as when Remus did it.
“We should plan a heist.”
“A heist?”
“Yes!” James had said, thrusting his phone in Remus’ direction.
On it was an article: ‘Black Family Retracts All Museum Donations.’
Remus’ eyes had flashed along the headline (he couldn’t yet see the vision, James would say), “so?”
“So.” James had said, standing from his seat and pacing the room as he derailed his grand plan. It wasn’t a plan yet, it wouldn’t be a plan for several more days. “The Black family is collecting all of the family heirlooms it has donated to various museums over the years and is putting them in storage in some vault somewhere to rot away. Think about it Remus! Over 6 million dollars worth of jewelry and art locked away in a vault somewhere where no one can appreciate it.”
“Yes, that’s tragic but-“
“And most of it is stolen anyway! The Black’s don’t deserve it!”
It wasn’t a secret to anyone that knew James that he had held a one-sided grudge against the Blacks for years. Ever since they had screwed over the Potters during a business negotiation for their upcoming hair care corporation James had vowed to get revenge on his parents behalf.
Remus sighed, looking up at James from his position on the couch, “I’m not disagreeing with you, but how exactly would we” he gestured between the two of them “steal from the Black’s probably heavily guarded vault.”
“I-“ The words had died on James’ lips, he hadn’t thought of that, “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well,” Remus had said, picking up his book, The Return of Sherlock Holmes, and opening it to where he had left off, “let me know when you do.”
Remus had thought that was the end of it, but James was nothing if not persistent. He had spent three whole days gathering information, tinkering away on Remus’ computer in The Lair until he had formed the perfect (outline of a) plan.
“Alright,” Remus had said reluctantly, looking at the pile of papers James had presented to him. “What do you have.”
“Well the Black’s are slowly acquiring pieces of their collection from all of the major museums in and outside of the country.”
Remus nodded.
“I had thought originally the best place to strike would be when they are being transported,” Remus had scoffed at this, “but we don’t have the skill set to pull off something like that, and with so many targets and variables it would be far too hard even if we did.”
“So? What is your plan then, James?”
“You know my friend Pete?” Remus nodded, “well Pete works for a catering company, he’s a brilliant cook by the way, you should really try some of the things he makes, he makes the best pot brownies I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something because I’ve had a lot of pot brownies in my day, it must be the type of chocolate he uses it’s amazing, you’d love-“
“James?”
“Oh yes right. So the company Pete works for just to hired by none other than, drumroll please?” Remus tapped out a halfhearted beat on his knee, “The Blacks!”
“The Black family is having a party? And you want to steal all their newly acquired treasures from their very, very heavily guarded vault?”
“Yes! Think about it! It’s the perfect time, they’d be so distracted by all their guests and fancy rich people things that they wouldn’t even notice us!”
“I think they’d notice us, James.” Remus rolled his eyes.
“That’s where Peter comes in! He can get us in through the kitchens.”
“James, even if we could get in, how on earth are you and me-“
“And Peter.”
Remus sighed, “you, me and Peter, going to pull something like that off?”
“Well,” James had said matter-of-factly, this was the part of the plan he had thought long and hard about, “between your computer, hacker genius-“
“I’m not a hacker, James.”
James ignored him, “and my all round planing genius and charisma, and Pete’s resources and Lily’s-“
“What the hell is Lily going to do?”
“Lily is a genius! She’s smarter than you, plus it might help to, you know, have a girl.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. They had thought Lily would be mad about her boyfriend speaking of her in this way when they recounted the story later, but she had just laughed.
“Look, I think we could do it.”
Remus had sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration, but James had known that he already agreed. Remus hated the Black family almost as much as he did, and with his general ‘fuck the rich’ attitude he knew he would be easy to convince, as long as James could reassure him they wouldn’t be caught.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” James had huffed out, practically jumping with excitement.
“Okay, but, there’s two more things we need.”
James had waited patiently for Remus to mull through the plan, already anticipating what Remus was going to say, the part he’d left out purposely, ever the dramatist.
“We will need access to the Black Manor housing plans, so we’re not just searching blindly for the vault.”
“And?”
“And we’re gonna need a getaway driver.”
James’ face had split into a smile upon hearing this, “Remus, me old pal, I have just the person in mind.”