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welcome to oblivescence! we are a brand spankin' new marauders' era rpg, and we're thrilled that you've discovered our cozy little corner of the internet. take a few minutes to read through the plot, look over the rules, and explore the board, and if you feel so inclined, please fill out an application! we'd love to have you. if you've got any questions, scroll down to the cbox and ask away; we're more than happy to help you out.
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Sirius had never wanted to go home for the summer in the first place. It was getting to the point where his home was entirely unbearable. The summer before, out of anger with his family, his parents especially, he'd done a bit of new decorating in his bedroom. He'd covered his room with lots of Gryffindor paraphernalia, which had angered his family of Slytherins. However, nothing had annoyed his parents more than the dozens of muggle posters he'd decided to put up on his walls. At first, when his father Orion Black had entered his room and noticed the pictures of half-naked muggle girls on Sirius's walls, his father was confused. The first thing his father thought to say was Well, these posters don't even move. What's wrong with them, son? He hadn't even thought to assume his son would do something so drastic as to have muggle items in the stately Black home of 12 Grimmauld Place. That was completely unheard of. But Sirius Black informed his father that, yes, that was exactly what he had done. Those were muggle girls on his walls next to those Gryffindor banners. His father had flown of the handle and got his mother involved in the argument as well. They yelled at each other for days after that, and Sirius could never imagine a fight worse than that with his family.
But that was before he came back for this summer, the summer before his last year at Hogwarts. Sirius came home knowing that soon he would be done with school, which meant after one more year he could no longer escape the rest of Black family and their desires for his future. He would be expected to marry some pureblood girl and never speak to muggleborns ever again. He could be sure that his friendship with James Potter would most likely be over, for even though James Potter's family was pureblood too, the Black family saw the Potters as blood traitors. Knowing that he would soon be stuck in this world of pureblood elitism for good made going back for the summer harder than ever.
To top it off, Sirius had come home to a father who was more angry at his eldest son than he had been the summer before, which Sirius Black had been sure was impossible. During Sirius's absence, his father discovered that Sirius had placed a charm on the decorations on his room so that the posters and banners could not be removed by anyone but him. His father confessed that he'd spent nearly the whole year trying to perform a countercurse on Sirius's charmed walls, but he had been unable to remove the muggle posters, much to his dismay. On top of that, Regulus had been reporting back to their parents, telling them about all of the nasty trouble Sirius had been getting into in his sixth year, which only made Sirius's mother and father more adamant about Sirius disassociating himself with the Potter boy altogether. That was where the eldest Black son drew the line however. They could say all the hurtful things they wanted about Sirius or about muggles or whatever else and Sirius would grin and bear it, knowing in the back of his mind that he could escape to Hogwarts soon enough. Insulting his best friends James Potter, however, was not alright in Sirius Black's book, and he told his parents so.
But Sirius could not stop there. Once his parents had got him going, he couldn't stop himself. He told them just how stuck up and elitist he thought they were, how he thought the whole Black family was a joke, how he was ashamed to even be a part of the family. The hurtful words continued back and forth, and although Walburga Black tried to stop her husband and her son, soon the two had drawn their wands against each other. After Sirius just barely missed being hit with the killing curse, he knew that was it. His time at 12 Grimmauld Place was at an end. Without taking the time to bring anything with him, he waltzed straight out of the door. His mother followed him out of the house, calling after him to come back, but he didn't listen. He couldn't hear them anymore. He didn't want to hear them anymore.
After the heated argument he'd just had with his parents, Sirius needed a moment to think. He walked for several hours through muggle London, trying to figure out what he would do with his life now, now that he'd officially thrown away everything he'd been brought up to be. Even though he'd never wanted that kind of life for himself in the first place, now it was finally official. He could never go back. He might never speak to his mother or his father again. He wondered what it would be like seeing Regulus at school after everything that had just happened. Where would he go after school was out for good? His family had plenty of money, but now that he'd rejected them, he doubted that would be of any help to him anymore. By the time he'd given up walking, it was midnight, and he was still nowhere near close to wrapping his head around what had just happened. Sirius was never the best at planning for the future anyway.
Nevertheless, he knew the most important thing. He knew where he needed to go next. Now that he was seventeen, he was able to apparate whenever he wanted to do so, yet he still found it strange apparating to his friend James's house rather than taking some sort of muggle transportation to Godric's Hollow. He had made the journey on his own so many times over the past six years, and it surprised him how quickly he was able to get there with the use of magic. Still, it was nearly one in the morning when he finally knocked on the Potter's door, and while he knew James would not mind, he hoped he didn't bother Mr. and Mrs. Potter too much by coming by at this hour. Thankfully, it was James that came to the door. Sirius hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he saw his best friend on the other side of the door. He let out a long exhale and tried to smile, even though smiling was the last thing he felt like doing. "I hope I didn't wake you," he said quietly, slipping inside the door before James had a chance to invite him in.
It was one o’ clock in the morning, and instead of fast asleep in his bed—as his parents would have preferred him—James Potter was hunched over the large wooden desk in his bedroom with quill in hand, scratching its tip furiously at the surface of a clean piece of parchment. On the floor beside him was a small waste bin filled to the top with crumpled bits of paper, each revealing traces of his chicken-scratch handwriting woven through the wrinkles and folds; James himself was bent nearly double over the surface, his face so close to the paper that the tip of his nose could have smudged the ink, glasses having slid so far down the bridge that they’d almost fallen off entirely. With a look of concentrated deliberation on his face, the boy wrote for two full minutes before abruptly flinging the quill across the desk, balling the paper up into a crumpled wad, and letting out an agitated groan as he dropped his head into his hands.
Over the course of the summer holidays, which were a month in already, James had started (approximately) forty-seven letters to Lily Evans. Thus far, he had sent her (approximately) none of them. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say to her—he had a thousand and one things he would’ve liked her to know—it was just that he didn’t quite know how to say them. Although he was smart, James had never been very good with words; it seemed like every time he started a letter and it seemed to be going well, he would go to reread what he had written and realize that the entire thing was absolute rubbish and needed to be restarted immediately. Maybe he was being too hard on himself, but James had liked Lily for six years, after all… if he was going to write her a letter, it would have to be a good one.
When he heard the knock at his front door, James nearly leapt out of his seat in surprise. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were older, and thus, so were most of their friends, so it was very rare that someone stopped by the house past seven or eight at night; it could be deduced that if anyone was going to show up at their door at one in the morning, it was going to be one of James’ friends. Half intrigued by the prospective visitor and half happy to be distracted from his fruitless endeavor, James stood from his desk seat and padded through the hallway, raking his fingers through his already wild black hair as he went. He was careful to step quietly as he passed his parents room, not wanting to wake them, and reaching the front of the house, a small tingle of anticipation surged through his chest as he pulled open the door to reveal the mysterious guest on the other side.
Though it normally would have been a pleasant and exciting surprise to see one’s best friend on the landing—even in the wee hours of the night—it didn’t take James longer than a second or two to realize that something wasn’t right. He’d had a sneaking suspicion that the visitor was Sirius (who else would have the nerve to come knocking in the dead of night?), and this certainly wasn’t the first time that Padfoot had shown up at a slightly unreasonable hour with plans for mischief up his sleeve, but as James’ quick gaze swept his friend’s countenance, he discerned no glint of adventure in the other boy’s eyes. What he saw instead were a pair of dark circles, a queer sort of coldness at the edges of the mouth, and an almost unnoticeable slump of defeat in shoulders that were usually held with an easy-going brand of pride.
The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, a warm breeze wafting through the doorway, and as Sirius let out the breath he’d evidently been holding in, James wordlessly pulled the door open wider and took a step backwards to let his friend inside. There were some things that didn’t need to be immediately addressed, and the look on Sirius’ face was one of those things; James was quite aware that there were parts of his best friend’s life that were darker and more unbearable than anything that James himself could possibly imagine, and he was not going to press Sirius to explain himself. Instead, James chuckled at Sirius’ utterance, and shook his head as he shut the door and dropped the latch, turning again to face his friend. “What do you think I am, a grandmother?” he asked, and whacked Sirius with his elbow as he moved past him and towards the staircase.
As James reentered his bedroom with Sirius close at his heels, he suddenly remembered the overflowing trash bin. “Close the door, would you?” he said over his shoulder, and hastily yanking his wand out of his pocket, muttered a spell which shot from the tip and instantly cleared the waste-basket of its many forlorn bits of parchment. He hoped that Sirius hadn’t seen the papers, or at least wouldn’t be able to guess what they had been before they were crumpled. He already knew how pathetic he was, and had no desire to be further tormented… it was a good thing that they were 17 and of age now, because otherwise, he would have been out of luck on all accounts. Once Sirius had shut the bedroom door, James flopped himself onto the edge of his bed, drumming his hands on his knees and examining his friend through the lenses of his glasses. He wasn’t sure what to say—or rather, what not to say—so he stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, weighing his options. Finally, he settled on the only thing that seemed appropriate.
tagged: emily, bb | word count: 981 | outfit: nope | notes: YAY
Sirius was relieved to see his friend, almost forgetting immediately how angry he'd been just before James had opened the door to let him inside. It was funny how friends could do that; Sirius hadn't known anyone who was able to alter his mood before he'd met James. Then again, at this point, he felt like he'd known James for most of his life, and it was hard to remember what life had been like before he'd sat next to James Potter on the train to Hogwarts their very first year. Usually, James liked to blame all the trouble that they both got themselves into on Sirius, but Sirius liked to think that he would not get into nearly as much mischief if it weren't for his best friend. Not that that was a bad thing, however. It was one of the things he liked most about James, actually, his propensity to encourage Sirius's bad behavior.
As he walked into his friend's home, the laughed with James at the thought that he would be asleep already at one in the morning. Both boys tended to be night owls (or rather, a stag and a dog) a lot of the time. When he'd told his friend that he hoped he hadn't woken him up, he was actually more concerned about Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Even though the Potters had been nothing but welcoming to Sirius every time he'd come to visit, which was often, the eldest Black boy could still never shake that feeling he got around authority figures, even easygoing people like James's parents. Of course, Sirius blamed his own parents for his inability to respect authority; Orion and Walburga Black certainly had made life difficult for their son over the past several years, and Sirius in return had made an effort to make their lives a living hell. Because of this, Sirius's natural reaction to any set of parental figures was that of nervousness. If one of Sirius's friends had come to call at 12 Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night, his parents would have been livid. Actually, his parents were fairly intolerant of any of Sirius's friends coming to call at their place of residence, which is why his friends rarely if ever stopped by the Black home.
However, James's nonchalant attitude about his friend coming to visit after one in the morning put Sirius at ease, and Sirius quickly bolted up the stairs to his friend's familiar room. Although Sirius took the first few steps up to James's room before his friend had the chance to lead him up himself, James quickly passed him on the stairs, slipping by him to get to his room before Sirius could beat him to it. This behavior was curious, and Sirius smiled to himself a little as he wondered what it was James might possibly be trying to hide from him in his room. Closing the door behind him, he surveyed the room suspiciously, looking for any sort of object that might seem interesting or out of place.
"So? What have you been up to up here in your room so late at night, Prongs?" he asked his friend, taking a seat at the desk in the corner of the room. His fingers ran devilishly across the empty surface of the wooden desk, and then he noticed Lily Evans's book, the book they had taken from her at the beginning of the summer, along with a stack of parchments with her handwriting, carefully placed on the shelf next to him. "Have you been copying Evans's notes again?" he asked, picking up the well-worn book and thumbing through it.
Sirius wasn't stupid. He knew that James most likely expected him to talk about what had happened tonight, and he was probably right for wanting to know. Sirius was sure his friend deserved some sort of explanation for this unexpected appearance at his door in the middle of the night. So far, he had managed to escape even alluding to what might bring him to Godric's Hollow at such an hour, but that silence could not last forever. He wasn't dumb enough to think he could avoid talking about the reasons he'd excommunicated himself from his family and his childhood home forever. At some point, probably at some later hour this very night, James would force his friend to discuss what had brought him to his doorstep. But Sirius wasn't ready to talk, and he knew the one thing that could potentially keep his best friend's mind muddled and confused for the longest amount of time was the subject of Lily Evans. Every time the girl was around, the otherwise smart James Potter's mind would suddenly turn to mush. For now, Sirius Black was counting on that, at least until he was ready to talk about what was really going on.
James eyed the other boy, watching as he dropped easily into the desk chair and immediately began to search for things to wreak havoc upon. Usually James didn’t mind Sirius going through his things, for the two boys rarely kept any secrets from each other and seemed to have an unspoken what’s-mine-is-yours policy, but it made him nervous when Padfoot’s fingers neared Lily’s carefully written class notes, and James visibly cringed when Sirius began to thumb through the well-worn pages of Lily’s favorite book. “Funny, charming, et cetera,” James laughed, and pushed himself up off of his bed, reaching forward to snatch, with one hand, Lily’s notes from his desk shelf, and with the other her book from Sirius’ lap. He carried them to the large brown trunk near his window, and dropping to his knees, undid the latches. “Sorry mate,” James said, “but you know she’d kill us both if so much as a single new spot showed up on one of these pages…”
Sirius was right in assuming that the subject of Lily Evans would—at least momentarily—relieve him of the task of explaining his presence at Potter Cottage this late in the night. In the several years that they’d known her, James’ fascination with Lily had grown from a meager schoolboy’s crush to a full-scale case of heartsickness. He was desperately, pathetically in love with her, and any chance he got to talk about it was one he would gladly take. After he’d safely stowed her things in his school trunk and closed it up with an uncharacteristic carefulness, James slumped onto his bed once more and let out a melodramatic sigh. “Is it possible to go from passionately hating someone to wanting to shag them?” he questioned, only half joking. He stared up at his ceiling, gaze trailing the enchanted Quidditch poster he’d taped up a few years ago, his heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest at the thought of Lily Evans looking at him with green eyes sans hatred and disgust. It was, perhaps, a pipe dream, but a lovely one at that.
Although mention of Lily Evans was likely the best trap Sirius could have set to distract James from more pressing matters at hand, it was not long before James realized that Sirius mostly likely hadn’t shown up at one in the morning to help his friend with his girl problems. James rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, resting his chin on his hand. He thought of bringing up the topic again, but before he could think of an appropriate way to do it, something else occurred to him. Quite suddenly, he hopped off of his bed and crossed the room to the desk where Sirius was sitting, and nudged his friend’s chair aside so that he could access the writing table. “I’ve got something to show you,” he said, yanking open a drawer and rummaging around for several moments, pulling out miscellaneous papers and envelopes and tossing them carelessly behind him. Finally, he found what he was looking for—a slightly yellowed, slightly wrinkled envelope emblazoned with the Hogwarts seal—and held it with both hands, looking down at Sirius. A somewhat self important look had crossed James’ countenance—certainly familiar to Sirius after so many years of friendship with the Potter boy—but with this arrogance came several small lines of worry, and further back in his hazel eyes was a brand of uncertainty that only someone like Sirius would ever be able to notice.
“You’re not going to believe this. I swear to you, Dumbledore’s gone mad,” James said with a smirk, and started to give over the envelope, but on second thought pulled it back quickly and narrowed his eyes a bit. “But hey—don’t tell anyone yet, yeah? I’m still not quite over it myself and I... I’d rather only you know for now.” He observed Sirius for a few short moments, as though to make sure that he could trust him, and then handed forth the letter, knowing that if anyone was a consistently loyal friend, it was Sirius Black.
Needless to say, the contents of the envelope were indeed full disclosure that James Potter—notorious troublemaker, sometimes slacker, and assumed “arrogant git”—had been appointed Head Boy. Although it was a position many students would have been thrilled with, James still wasn’t sure quite what to make of it; it certainly meant more time with Lily Evans, and also demanded even more respect and adoration from his peers, but it was a heavy load to carry—especially for someone like James, who was really quite foreign to responsibility of any kind. He was equally proud and confused, equally amused and terrified, and he wrung his hands as he waited for Sirius’ reaction. This was big news for James, and it was also a big secret; he was telling Sirius because he wanted to talk about it, but also because a part of him hoped that this revelation might prompt Sirius to talk about whatever it was that had brought him here at this late hour, maybe even allow Sirius to speak more freely knowing that he was not alone in confusion, regardless of what said confusion concerned.
tagged: emily, bb | word count: 871 | outfit: completely naked | notes: ... sometimes i lie to get what i want
As silly as James's infatuation with Lily Potter was to Sirius, he could never get over how amusing it was. He smiled to himself as his best friend snatched Lily's precious book out of his hands and hid it away for safe keeping. Sirius shrugged when James went on to explain his actions. It didn't really mean anything either way to him; it was just a book after all, and he didn't see why Lily would make a big deal out of him touching it. It wasn't as if he was going to attempt to set the thing on fire. Sure, he would love to pretend to set the book on fire just to get a rise out of her or out of James, but he would never really do something like that. Not on purpose, anyway. But James was so funny when it came to Lily; Sirius laughed at his friend's question. "I don't see why not," he said. "I'm sure there are loads of people I'm not too fond of that I still wouldn't mind shagging." The way James looked at Lily, though, Sirius was pretty sure a simple shag wouldn't do for his best friend. He was completely obsessed with the girl, and it was getting worse and worse as the days progressed. It had been weeks since the last time Sirius had seen his friend, and he couldn't believe the lost look in James's eyes as he lay on his bed, daydreaming about Lily as usual.
Honestly, with the way James had been acting lately, after Sirius brought up the subject of Lily Evans, he assumed that's what they would be talking about for the rest of the night. When James said he had something to show his friend, Sirius immediately assumed it had to have something to do with Evans. Interested, Sirius raised his eyebrow and slid his chair a bit closer to where James was rummaging through his things. He folded his hands in his lap and waited patiently for whatever it is James was preparing to show him, assuming it would be some sort of love note or picture or something like that. He was not at all expecting what his best friend had to show him instead.
"I'm not going to tell anyone!" Sirius insisted, almost sounding angry. Who did James think he was talking to? Scowling playfully, Sirius snatched the letter from his friend's hand when he held it towards him. As he opened the letter and looked at its contents, Sirius could not hide the expression of disbelief on his face. James Potter as head boy? It was almost as ludicrous as the idea of appointing Sirius as head boy. It just didn't make any sense. In all honesty, Sirius had always thought their mutual friend Remis Lupin would be the one to be bestowed such an honor. Compared to James and Sirius, Remus was quite the saint. He was studious, responsible, got on well with others. Off all of those things, James really only embodied the last quality. He was at a loss for what to say to his friend, and he read over the letter a couple of times, just to make sure he wasn't mistaken in what Dumbledore was saying to James.
"This is . . ." Sirius started, searching for the right words. He didn't want to tell James that it was a surprise to him, or that he secretly thought Remus might deserve it more. Part of him didn't understand why James would be rewarded with such a high honor when Sirius himself hadn't even been asked to be a prefect. But James was his friend, and neither of these answers would be the correct response. "This is a real honor, James," he said to his friend, nodding sincerely. This was not a lie. Becoming head boy was a huge honor, and Sirius was sure that if Dumbledore bestowed this honor upon his best friend, then it must be the right choice. He was proud of his friend, but he was also just confused. "I hope this doesn't mean you'll be expected to behave this year," he joked, handing the envelope back to James.
“I know what you’re thinking,” James said, for Sirius seemed to be scrambling around in his brain, searching for words that probably weren’t going to come. James leaned against his desk, taking off his glasses and absently wiping one of the lenses with his shirt. “It should have been Remus,” he offered up, knowing that bringing the obvious assumption to light would probably bring relief to the both of them, and make this discussion a lot less careful and awkward. He looked into the drawer he’d opened moments before, and from amongst the papers plucked a small, sparkling badge. He held it in his hand, the metal cold against his warm palm, and let out an involuntary sigh as he wrapped his fingers around it, balling his hand into a fist with the tiny metal pin clenched inside of it. James was proud of himself in a lot of ways, and liked himself for a lot of different reasons, but one thing he knew he didn’t deserve was the sparkling Head Boy badge that was now in his grasp.
“An honor?” James asked, his eyes flickering to focus on Sirius, who was watching him with the warm and loyal sincerity James had come to expect from his best friend. Something tight inside his chest loosened, and it was only as Sirius congratulated him that James realized he had actually been afraid to share this news with his friends. “Yeah, I s’pose…” he said slowly. For some reason, James had thought that being appointed Head Boy was almost like a betrayal of his group… a betrayal of himself, even. He’d always been a trouble maker, a rascal, a headache, and now it was suddenly his job to stop other people from being those very same things? It didn’t seem right. A small chuckle escaped him as Sirius handed the envelope back. “Behave? I’ve never heard that word in my life,” he said defiantly, but as he set the envelope carefully to the side of his desk and placed the badge on top of it, a resigned weight rested heavy on his shoulders again. He supposed this was what growing up felt like, but he didn’t want to think about it; not now, anyway.
Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand, particularly at this very moment; half an hour had passed since Sirius’ arrival, and James was no closer to figuring out what the hell was going on than he’d been thirty minutes previous. People didn’t just show up in the middle of the night with no explanation—not even Sirius, in all his spontaneity and impulsivity, would do such a thing with no reason behind it. James pushed himself up from where he’d been leaning on the desk, and stretched his long arms above his head, groaning as a satisfying procession of cracks and pops issued from his spine. He was stalling, and he didn’t know why. Sirius was his best friend in the whole world… why was it so hard for them to have this conversation?
“Sirius,” James said abruptly. He turned around and sat again at the edge of his bed, grounding his feet on the floor and looking carefully at the boy opposite him. James hated to push Sirius like this, but he was starting to realize that if he didn’t make Sirius talk about this, the boy would never say what was on his mind, no matter how badly he wanted or needed to. “It’s nearly two in the morning and we’re in my room talking about school of all things. Something isn’t right about that,” he said, laughing. His smile faded, and he dropped his hands onto his knees, looking Sirius square in the eye, his gaze almost challenging the other to speak. “You came here because you knew you could tell me, so… what is it? Go on.”
Sirius chuckled when James assured him that he was not planning on being well-behaved simply because he was head boy now. Although Sirius acted as if he'd been joking, he actually had been a bit worried about what being Head Boy might mean for his best friend and their relationship, since a lot of their friendship was directly related to misbehaving. His friend's words reassured him slightly, but he still felt a bit strange about his best friend being Head Boy. He supposed it would be good for James because it would mean more time with Lily Evans, and unless Lily was completely daft, surely she would give poor James a chance if he was able to prove that he was responsible and intelligent enough to be appointed Head Boy. On the other hand, how far would James go in order to be Head Boy? Would he still be himself? And surely Dumbledore had gone mad to offer it to him in the first place, right? Out of all the seventh year students at Hogwarts, Dumbledore chose James? Over Remus? Sirius didn't even know that James was interested in all of this head boy stuff. "Are you sure this is something you want to commit to, James?" Sirius ventured to ask finally. If it was something James wanted to do, then Sirius knew his best friend would do a good job, but such a desire was so foreign and incomprehensible to Sirius. He knew he himself would never want such responsibility, and he couldn't understand why James would. "I mean, I am sure you'll do great. It's just . . . Head Boy. Wow."
For once in his life, Sirius was relieved that the focus of their conversation was on school, and not on what had brought him to his friend's home in the middle of the night. However, James was no idiot, and Sirius knew it wouldn't take his friend long to realize he was avoiding something. James was always fairly good at noting when Sirius was skirting around a subject, and James was also always willing to call Sirius out on it. He appreciated how well his friends seemed to know him, far better than anyone in his family knew him, that was for sure. But that sort of closeness became annoying at times, too. For instance, it was annoying him now that James had noted the strangeness of their conversation and that he now asked about the one thing Sirius did not feel ready to talk about.
"What is what?" Sirius said with a shrug, trying to play stupid. "I came here to see my friend because I was awake and bored and I figured you'd be up." But this was an obvious lie, and Sirius could tell by the look on his friend's face that he wasn't buying it for one minute. A person didn't just travel to another town, even by apparition, simply to say hello to another person. Not even Sirius. He knew his friend would see through this lame excuse immediately, but Sirius had said it anyway, simply to buy himself time. It wasn't easy for him to talk about himself ever; it made him feel strange, unloading information about himself on his friends. He'd much rather talk about other things. When it came to talking about his family, Sirius would much rather be doing pretty much anything else. However, James was right; this wasn't something Sirius could just keep from his best friend, not when he'd shown up like this.
"Fine, okay," he said with a sigh, resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't keep this to himself any longer. He pushed himself up from the chair at James's desk and sat down on the bed next to James. It was silly, but he was somewhat paranoid talking about the Black family even here with his friend in the privacy of his bedroom. He knew how powerful and influential his family was, and he was used to seeing friends of his family everywhere. It was hard to get rid of the notion that talking about the Black family meant talking in whispers. "I had a bit of a run-in with my dad," he said in a barely audible whisper. "It's not a big deal or anything, but I don't think I should be going back to Grimmauld Place tonight. Or ever, really."
James was cognizant of Sirius’ hesitancy to talk about himself, so when the dark haired boy finally revealed the reason for his presence at the Potter cottage that night, James’ first reaction to the whole thing was, oddly enough, to be proud of his friend. He knew that it was hard to address personal problems aloud—particularly for teenage boys (to whom pride is typically a very important asset)—and James appreciated Sirius’ willingness to put such a thing aside when it was getting them nowhere fast. Plus, the fact that he’d come here directly following the incident meant that Sirius had known he’d have to talk about what had happened at some point that night, and that the person he’d chosen to talk to—the one he trusted most in this situation—was James himself. Friendship could be rewarding in the strangest of ways, and this, thought James, was one of them.
Now that the problem was out in the open, it made a lot more sense that Sirius was acting the way that he was. His middle-of-the-night appearance, his shiftiness, his desperation to keep the subject on anything but himself… they were all completely understandable. Though the Potters were indisputably blood traitors by association, James was still familiar with the typical dynamic of Pureblood families in the wizarding world, and was aware that nothing could cause a larger rift between family members than a simple difference in belief, if said difference was enough to fuel gossip and destroy a reputation. It seemed that the entire Pureblood community spoke through whispers and invisible ink, that everything was presumed a secret until someone blabbed. It was probably a very stressful thing to be a part of, not to mention often cruel and occasionally downright evil, and James didn’t blame Sirius one bit for standing up against it, even if it meant leaving it behind forever.
He remained silent for a few long seconds after Sirius’ admission, and then looked at his friend, who was not meeting his eyes. “Is it insensitive if I say I’m sort of glad for you?” James asked, a slow smile creeping onto his face. He saw no reason to whisper, and continued in a normal tone, “Padfoot, your family are a bunch of wankers, anyway. Your mother is a raving old hag, your father is a complete arsehole, and your brother’s a right little twat, if you ask me. You don’t belong in that dusty, evil old place—you need to be somewhere exciting! Somewhere…” James trailed off with a thoughtful shrug, and bounced on his feet a little, shaking the mattress as he did so. “Somewhere nice,” he finished.
Unfortunately, that was the not the main issue here, or so it seemed to James: Sirius needed to be somewhere exciting and nice, but he also just needed to be somewhere in general. Obviously the boy had been reluctant to reveal the outcome of the argument with his father for a reason, and that reason was that it meant asking—indirectly, but asking nonetheless—for help, and Sirius was not the type of person who liked to do that at all. James grasped this all rather suddenly, and looked at Sirius again, raising his dark eyebrows in something like puzzlement. “Erm, Sirius… you do know that you’re perfectly welcome to stay here for as long as you like, right?”
tagged: emirry | word count: 559 | outfit: --- | notes: dis is dreadful
Of course, Sirius knew he should be relieved to be rid of his family once and for all, and a part of him was, especially now that James was pointing out that was exactly how he should be feeling. "No, you're right," he said quietly, still thinking over the whole thing in his head as he spoke. "You don't sound insensitive at all. They are a bunch of wankers." He forced himself to laugh, realizing how ridiculous it was for him to be so upset over a bunch of people he'd never liked in the first place. Hadn't he always said what James was saying to him right now? He'd never wanted to live with them in the first place. Every summer since he'd started at Hogwarts, he'd longed for an escape from that dusty old home on Grimmauld Place. James knew this just as well as he did. There was nothing good left in that place for him, and there was no one tying him to his family. No one remained that he still cared about. The only family member he still liked was Andromeda, and she'd been banished as well, so he had no idea what sort of hope he was clinging onto, why the thought of never returning to Grimmauld Place still made him a little sad. Was it some sort of regret for what had been lost long ago and could now never return? Maybe he was just being a sentimental idiot.
It was kind of James to say that Sirius deserved to be somewhere nicer. Even though Sirius felt like that was true, sometimes being a part of a family such as the Blacks left him wondering if he wasn't just as horrible as the rest of them were and simply in denial. A simple reminder that that wasn't how other people saw him made a huge difference in his mood. Sirius allowed himself to relax a bit, leaning back on his elbows as he looked up at his friend and smiled. James seemed to always know the right thing to say to make a person feel better; maybe Dumbledore had known what he was doing after all when he'd sent James that head boy badge. The more Sirius thought on it now, the more it was beginning to make sense. Although Remus was much more studious and well-behaved than the rest of his friends, it was hard to deny that James was more charismatic, which is something that might be helpful for a head boy. Sirius could be sure as he had never really wasted precious energy considering the duties of head boys and girls, but it seemed like the ability to talk to others would be beneficial in that line of work. But what did he know?
When Sirius had picked up and left his home only a few short hours ago, he knew exactly where he was going. It had never crossed his mind to go anywhere but to the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow. Ever since he and James became friends, the Potter's had become like a second home to him, and James's family had always been very welcoming. It made sense for him to come here, knowing that whatever his reasons were for needing to escape his home, he would be welcomed without question. That is why when James informed Sirius that he was more than welcome to stay at their home for as long as he wanted, Sirius chuckled to himself. "Of course I know that, Prongs. Why do you think I came here in the first place?" He patted his friend appreciatively on the back. "Thanks for giving me an official invitation, though. I would love to stay."
It was never difficult for James to tell when his best friend was forcing a smile. The fact that Sirius had to make a conscious effort to induce laughter made James sad, and the hardest part was that he had no reference for understanding Sirius’ pain, no event in his life that he could use to relate to what his friend was currently going through. Everything had always been easy for James, and though he was aware of and grateful for his luckiness, he sometimes—selfishly—wished that he’d had things a little worse.
Still, James was glad that Sirius had come to the Potter cottage, glad that his friend thought James’ home to be the safest and most desirable place to go in a crisis. At least their fair fortune could do someone else some good. He grinned when Sirius accepted the unnecessary invitation, and thumped his friend on the back. “Brilliant!” James exclaimed. “And don’t worry, I’ll sock that brother of yours in the face if he gives you an ounce of trouble this year,” he added with a little smirk.
The two boys sat in silence for a few moments longer before James made the executive decision not to drag out the conversation about Sirius’ predicament any further. It had taken James long enough to get Sirius to tell him what had happened to bring him here in the first place, so it was probably best just to take it for what it was, drop it, and move on. Besides, James was noticing for the first time that night just how exhausted Sirius looked—he supposed that leaving one’s childhood home for good could have that kind of effect on someone. He stood from his bed rather suddenly, stretching his arms above his head and yawning widely, and grabbed his wand from where he’d left it on the desk, crossing the room and pulling open the door. He murmured a summoning spell, and within a few seconds, a small pile of blankets came whizzing into the room and flopped haphazardly into a rather messy pile at James’ feet. A pillow followed soon after, and it tumbled in and across James’ carpeted floor like a sad, large cotton ball. “Good enough,” he muttered, and nudged the door closed before bending over to collect the sheets.
In less than a minute, James had a pretty substantial bed made up, and he tossed his wand aside, raising his eyebrows at Sirius. “Sorry it’s a bit tragic looking, but we’ll fix something better once I tell mum and dad… in fact, mum will probably have a fit that I’m letting you sleep on this, but I’ll accept the consequences,” he said, running a hand absently through his hair. He then flopped back onto his own bed, watching as Sirius took up his post on the blanketed floor, and couldn’t help but smile. It was always nice to have someone else around when one was a lonely child, but it was ten times better when that someone was your best friend, particularly when you knew they’d be staying for a while. Maybe it was selfish of him, but James was glad that Sirius would be here—and it wasn’t all that inconsiderate of him anyway, because he knew that being here over Grimmauld Place would benefit the other boy as well. James wanted to tell Sirius that he was happy he’d come here for a first option, that he was thrilled to have the other boy staying with him, and that if Sirius ever wanted to complain about his family he was perfectly welcome to do so aloud… but to say those things would be, in James’ opinion, overly sentimental, so instead he said, “G’night,” and turned off the light.
tagged: emirry | word count: 629 | outfit: skin | notes: i love us ;o;