Sirius
The heatwave broke early that next week, and with the cool weather came thunderstorms.
Bursts of electricity shook the old house and rain slammed against the windows, reducing almost everyone inside to tears.
Sirius sat at the kitchen table, trying to talk louder than the thunder but only succeeding in giving both Remus and Percy migraines. He had to constantly dash to the windows to pull Fred and George away before they got electrocuted, and Harry and Ron had not stopped crying.
As an extra blow to Sirius’ ego, Missy seemed more afraid of Sirius than the thunder. She trailed behind Remus, keeping a tight hold on the hem of his shirt, until he finally lost it and barked, “Missy! Take two steps back!”
“Alright, everyone!” Sirius shouted, pulling George away from the window and slinging the redhead over his shoulder. “We need a distraction. Poke, do you want to listen to some music?”
George let loose a maniacal laugh as Sirius placed him down on the floor. “I’m Stick! He’s Poke!”
A firework sparked from Fred’s hands but quickly fizzled out.
“Can you pick an album for me?” Sirius pushed the twins towards the sitting room. “Effie used to have a really good one called Werewolves of London."
He heard an annoyed groan from over his shoulder and flashed a smile at Remus.
“Is this one good, Padfoot?” Fred yelled, pulling the first record from Effie's collection and holding it up in the air.
Sirius froze.
Remus leaned against the doorjamb, Ron on his hip. “Is there something wrong with that one, Sirius?”
Sirius narrowed his eyes.
Nothing was wrong with it, it was a fantastic album. He would know, as it used to be his. He used to play it almost 24/7 right after they left Hogwarts. The vinyl had barely even known a life outside the record player until he dropped it off with Effie after—
“What’s it called?” Fred asked, bending the vinyl.
Sirius snatched it from his hands. "Star Baby. But let’s listen to something else, something we can dance to—”
“Oh, you can dance to Star Baby," Remus cut in.
“You can’t, actually.”
“You definitely can. In fact, I think I’ve seen you dance to this song. Don’t you remember?”
Sirius clenched his jaw. “Yeah, of course I remember, Moony. However, I'd like to listen to Werewolves."
Remus met his gaze defiantly. “And I’d like to listen to Star Baby."
“How about this one?” George shoved a record into Sirius’ thigh, unknowingly preventing a second duel.
Sirius bent down to read the title. “Fantastic, George! It’s a waltz! I’m good at those.”
George looked at him incredulously. “I don’t know how to waltz.”
“Aren’t you a Prewett?”
“No, I’m a Weasley.”
Sirius clicked his teeth and said, “Ah, that explains it,” which made Remus roll his eyes.
Sirius whipped his head around the room. “Will anyone waltz with me?”
Missy shook her head quickly and Percy lifted a cool compress from his forehead for a second before closing his eyes again.
“You, then.” Sirius took two long strides to Remus and lifted Ron out of his arms. “You look like a future dancer, Ronald. It’s easy, just one, two, three, one, two, three. Your feet don’t reach the floor, so let me take the lead.”
Fred and George watched in astonished curiosity as Sirius lifted the needle so it caught on the vinyl.
A shock of thunder boomed outside, and then the first chords of Sweet Baby James began to play.
Immediately, the memories twisted through the air along with the notes of music, and instead of guitar chords, all Sirius could hear was, Effie, Effie, Effie.
Sirius didn’t know anyone who had as many James Taylor records as Effie Potter. In 1970, she’d visited California for a work trip and said she’d “found her people” (whatever that meant). She originally bought the Sweet Baby James album because of the title song , which she played over and over. Honestly, Sirius was surprised the record hadn’t worn away.
The only song to rival Sweet Baby James was James Taylor’s cover of Oh, Susannah, and Sirius remembered Effie lamenting, “I wish we could’ve given you a sister, James. If I had a daughter today, I’d call her Susannah…”
One day, through a mouthful of cereal, James said, “Then why donchya just call me Susannah?”
So, sometimes, Effie did. Whenever James would do something particularly rash or say something particularly stupid, Effie would sigh and say, “Oh really, Susannah!” which would make Sirius and James erupt into fits of raucous laughter.
Then, Effie would say they made her feel like she was the funniest person in the world. But they didn’t have to pretend, because she was.
Goodnight, you moonlight ladies… Rock-a-bye, sweet baby James… Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose… Won’t you let me go down in my dreams? And rock-a-bye, sweet baby James.
Sirius’ feet moved from muscle memory alone. But every time he counted one, two, three, it seemed harder to move. He didn’t know if it was his heart that was weighing him down or Ron in his arms. He didn’t know if the room was blurry from dizziness or if he’d turned into a sap like James.
An aching loneliness felt ready to consume him, until he saw Remus.
Remus was deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed together as he watched the scene in the sitting room. But he wasn’t looking at Fred and George trying to copy Sirius’ waltz steps, or Percy and Harry on the sofa, or Missy standing right under his elbow.
His eyes were fixed on the empty space in the middle of the room.
And Sirius’ heart broke.
For his entire life, Sirius had always been amazed that there were some people who knew why he did the things that he did. They did not simply watch him and wave away his actions. James knew when needed company and when he needed to be left alone. Peter could tell from Sirius’ first word if he was joking or not.
And now, right now, Remus knew why Sirius stopped dancing and Sirius knew why Remus was staring at nothing.
They had the same memory. They had been there, they had seen it, they remembered it. Together.
If Sirius wanted to close his eyes, he could pretend that it was real. The hand on his waist, a woman’s voice insisting he follow her, a bright laugh cutting through James Taylor. A beautiful, shy boy sitting in the corner watching another scarred boy dance.
Sirius watched the ghost of a smile flit across Remus’ face, too subtle for anyone else to notice, as he bent down in front of the record player. Remus flicked through the vinyls, arguing with Fred and George about what to play next, until the record scratched again.
Well, I’ve never been much for admitting things, that’s why it’s all so hard to say… that I’m head over heels in love with your kind of insanity…
Sirius’ face split into a grin. “No, not this one! Fred and George, let me help you.”
He tried his very best to ignore Remus’ look of victory, as star baby… star baby… flashy little shiny little lovin’ machine… repeated in the background.
Sirius found the record he was looking for, entrusting it to Fred. “This one next, DJ Weasley.”
“I know what you’re doing, Sirius,” Remus said, jutting his chin towards the record player.
Sirius’ eyes flashed. “I know that you know. An eye for an eye.”
The record player sputtered to life once again, five times louder this time, drowning out the last clap of the thunder with:
I SAW A WEREWOLF WITH A CHINESE MENU IN HIS HAND, WALKING THROUGH THE STREETS OF SOHO IN THE RAIN...