Exterminatus

Sirius Black blew up the Potters' television on 22 September 1979, twenty minutes into that night's program and right in the middle of having drinks -- which was, in retrospect, perhaps the problem.

He'd later blame everything but the Ogden's Old, of course. He'd blame that strange theme tune for messing with his head. He'd blame the strangeness of the show in general. Muggles were quite odd enough on their own, he thought, without getting this... well, creative about things.

And the fact that James was watching this series voluntarily -- that he actually owned a TV set at all -- had to be Lily's fault in the first place, which really quite absolved Sirius of any responsibility. Besides, the way she kept laughing at him was not helping.

"So explain this to me again," he said, after pouring a second glass for himself. "That man there's an alien--"

"Yes," James said, more or less patiently. "And the phone box is a spaceship that travels through time. Play along."

"The phone box is a...."

James gulped down another shot. "Magic box, Sirius. Just think of it as a magic box."

"Okay, fine. Perfect. Magic box." He glared slantwise at Lily, who was quietly giggling. "But that bloke still looks human."

"Well, he has to be played by one, right?"

Sirius frowned. "Can't they just -- make him look like something else? All it takes is a little--"

He made a haphazard flicking gesture with his wand, to which Lily rolled her eyes.

"Sirius, you know even the BBC wizarding staff couldn't get away with that," she said. Sirius could tell she was still far too sober. "And they only have so much costuming money. It's not exactly Star Wars over there."

Sirius, who had no clue what she was on about, let the reference slide. "I s'pose that explains the scarf...."

Lily snickered, but then -- daft girl, she was actually trying to watch the show -- made a gesture to shush him. Sirius chuckled and had another drink -- which ended in an abrupt sputter when something squat, metallic and very oddly-shaped maneuvered its way onto the screen. He stared. "What in the name of Merlin is that thing?"

James made the effort. "'S called a--"

He trailed off, distracted, as the pepperpot said something, in a grating, inhuman sort of voice that scraped through the air and across everyone's nerves. Sirius made a strangled but fascinated noise.

"Dalek," James finally finished, gesturing with his glass. "'It's a robot, kind of... well, not really... it's a -- an alien... thing."

Lily, after looking very pointedly at her husband, turned to Sirius. There, she smirked. "Don't tell me it scares you."

He blinked, nonplussed. "It's got a plunger."

"People've been known to hide behind their sofas when they see these things, you know."

Sirius arched his eyebrows and pointed at the screen. "Plunger."

She laughed again, covering her eyes and shaking her head. Sirius ignored her in favor of watching, with increased bemusement, the Dalek and the Doctor -- who wasn't really a doctor, James had explained, not in the proper Healer sense, but then what he was supposed to be a doctor of, Sirius really had no clue. He shook his head again. Muggles had strange imaginations indeed. Nameless doctors in magic boxes, fighting aliens who had armor and plungers and some other sort of weapon... type... thing.....

"What the hell's it saying?" he asked after a minute. James smiled, in the sort of way that suggested one side of the smile had had less to drink than the other, which straggled along in its effort to catch up.

"What it always says when it's gonna kill something," he drawled in answer, and let his voice drop as he mimicked it. The Dalek on the screen, by some perfect coincidence of timing, said it in concert: "Exterminate!"

And away it fired.

Lily nearly fell over laughing as Sirius let out a roar of approval, watching the bumpy little thing begin to wreak havoc blast by blast. "I bloody want one," he exclaimed, watching the explosions.

"You would," James laughed, over the sound of the Dalek's electronic bellow. And Sirius, with a big grin, picked up his wand and rose to his feet.

"Er, Sirius--" Lily began, but it was already too late. Sirius -- drunk, inspired, and entirely too amused -- was already taking aim at the television.

"Gonna help it along," he said, with a grin stretching from ear to ear. "Exterminatus!"

Entirely to his surprise, the wand flashed with magic. And with a bang, a blast, and a brilliant crackle of electricity, the television screen blew out.

Lily yelped; James scrambled backwards, nearly tipping over the sofa. Sirius stayed frozen right where he was, as an enormous plume of black smoke belched from the back of the machine. Something in its innards made a little wheeze and spark-riddled sputter; then, after it finished rattling on its stand, there was silence.

Sirius goggled at it, speechless.

"Um," he finally managed, slowly fumbling his way around the words. "That... wasn't supposed to actually work."

With that, one last fragment of glass fell from the frame and to the floor, dying with a pathetic little tinkle.

"Oh, Sirius," Lily said wearily. "What did I tell you about using spells on the Muggle appliances?"

Sirius shut his eyes, still smelling smoke everywhere. He'd heard her admonition more than once before: "That the 'lectric cords... overload on the power.... and...."

"The TV goes boom."

Sirius looked at James, who'd just said that in an extremely peculiar sort of voice. Sirius recognized it. James still looked stunned, but Sirius knew from long experience that there was a laugh creeping forth from behind that expression, just waiting to bust out. He choked back a laugh of his own in reply.

He did so very, very badly.

And as the undercurrents sputtered forth, Lily -- naturally -- heard it.

"Honestly, Sirius, it's not funny--" she began.

As if those were the magic words themselves, Sirius and James both lost control at once. Sirius grabbed his shoulder for support as they both dropped to the sofa and laughed themselves nearly sick.

Somewhere under the laughter, Sirius could eventually hear her join in.

"So much for the show finale," she said with a weary laugh, as she sank onto the sofa beside them. Sirius draped an arm around her shoulders to pull her into the circle as they both slowly came down to earth.

"No," James said, still grinning at them both. "I think that... is a real grand finale."

And by the end of the evening, having exterminated the rest of the firewhiskey and having had his best laugh in months, Sirius had to concede that those odd Muggles with their magic boxes -- telephone, television or otherwise -- really did have a few clever ideas after all.




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N.B.: For the sake of simplicity -- and because, er, I haven't seen the episode yet -- this fic does not in any way represent actual plot elements from that night's broadcast of Doctor Who. However, I doublechecked Outpost Gallifrey's episode guide; "Destiny of the Daleks", Episode 4, did air that night in 1979, and at that point, according to the HP Lexicon, James and Lily would indeed have been married. The heights of my geekdom in confirming all this can really not be underestimated.