A Piece of Your Fortune

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When Sirius sits on the stool, and that damned tattered hat parts its stitched grin to sing out its duty to the Sorting, the inklings of the storm have worked their way into that grey, steely glint, weaving in and out of coarse black hair, seeping into the very pores of his skin. That damned tattered hat, that damned tattered hat that ruined his life, because now his parents refuse to speak to him, and neither will his cousins (except for Andromeda), though admittedly he never liked most of his cousins anyway.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't go home. He won't go where he isn't wanted.

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It takes him until second year to make his first friend.

Sirius is terribly clumsy sometimes and awful at keeping his porridge in the bowl where it belongs. The porridge that belonged in his bowl has slipped out, somehow, onto the crisp slacks that cover legs belonging to a certain R.J. Lupin (the embroidery on the pocket told Sirius so) who has a pale face but kind eyes.

Because his mother and his father and his brother and his cousins have been horrible and cruel and unforgiving for something that isn't even Sirius's fault, Sirius begins to cry, something he has never done in front of anybody, and certainly not over a bowl of porridge.

R.J. Lupin, whose real name is Remus, insists that it's all quite all right, only a pair of trousers that can be washed, the porridge isn't that hot anyway, I'll just wipe it off with my napkin, see, now, it's all better. Remus offers Sirius his handkerchief, and Sirius takes it, because he knows of the heavy trembling this will cause his family.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't go home. He won't go where he isn't wanted, and he'll stay where he is.

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R.J. Lupin, Professional Werewolf, says Sirius. Being a werewolf is a good profession.

Third year Herbology, a most unlikely place to find a werewolf, but there they are, the four of them - James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter; and because they are all misfits, in their own way, none of the three mind what Sirius has called Remus's new profession. James has glasses and can't find his way out of a paper bag otherwise, Peter threw up the first day of flying and was labeled Puking Pettigrew from there on after, Sirius is a Gryffindor in a family of Slytherins, and now Remus has his own bit of misfit to call his own, because a werewolf certainly isn't something just anyone will find in an Herbology classroom. Sirius secretly finds Remus's lycanthropy to be thrilling and exciting, and Remus knows - it's what drives the two of them together.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't go home. He stays where he is wanted.

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During Halloween in fourth year, a party erupts in Gryffindor Tower, and someone spikes the pumpkin juice James and Peter snuck in during the feast. McGonagall has given up on controlling the noise level, and left twenty minutes ago, carrying a flask filled with the pumpkin juice to calm her nerves.

Sirius wears a lopsided mask on his face, a mask that matches his lopsided grin stained with sweets and frosting. He lost his shirt somewhere along the way, and prances around in trousers and socks, waving sparklers like it's New Year's.

Remus scolds him for acting so foolish and drinking so much juice; he scolds for an awful long time, and he scolds for so long that Sirius decides to shut him up, because this is Halloween, not lecture.

Squishing Remus's cheeks together with his palm, Sirius forces a pouting smile until he mashes their lips, so that he tastes Remus and cider and peppermint humbugs, while Remus tastes Sirius and rum and sugar. Sirius isn't in his proper state, so he points his finger to his own chest, then to Remus's.

Us, he says, together. Remus doesn't disagree.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't go home. He stays in Remus's bed instead.

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When Professional Werewolf R.J. Lupin's father dies, he doesn't pay much attention to Sirius anymore. He doesn't pay attention to much of anything, granted, but Sirius feels he is the most important object in Professional Werewolf R.J. Lupin's life, and should be watched over very carefully. Instead, Professional Werewolf R.J. Lupin starts to eat pickles on toast, sits moodily in armchairs, and refuses to respond to Professional R.J. Lupin. Sirius starts to call him Remus again, but he barely answers that either. The inklings of loneliness dart forward out of Sirius's mind into the space between the together, so there is no us, and only a Remus and a Sirius - two different people.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't go home. At least Hogwarts has fireplaces.

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Remus often ignores Sirius now, because there are too many other things to think about, things that don't involve Sirius at all. Sirius is more irritable because of it, and snaps at James during breakfast, snaps at Peter during lunch, and is silent during dinner. There is hint of a creeping frost in Remus's voice, one that warns Sirius that he is skating on thin ice, even though he hasn't done anything wrong.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't go home. He runs away instead.

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His record is gone now; he tarnished it, in what McGonagall says was 'an imminent fall', by the way he was going. Snape is in the Hospital Wing, and Sirius is hoping to have a laugh or two about it with James and Peter, dance around an apology to Remus, and move on with it.

Instead, he has detention for two months, James is furious, Peter hides, and Remus refuses to speak to Sirius at all. There is no moving on in the foreseeable future, and Sirius regrets.

Christmas Holidays come, and Sirius goes home to his flat, alone.

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Sirius shrieks with giggles, giggles that are unnatural and frightening, and are replayed over and over on the radio. 'Black Betrays Potters', reads the headline, 'Pettigrew a Martyr'. Remus doesn't believe it's true, because he loves Sirius, even after the Shrieking Shack, even after they had a fight this morning and Remus told Sirius he didn't love him anymore, but no one will believe a Professional Werewolf.

Christmas Holidays come, but Sirius doesn't come home. Azkaban doesn't give holidays to anyone, not even to one that belongs to Professional Werewolf R.J. Lupin, so Remus is left by himself on Christmas to sip weak tea, and open pretend presents that don't exist. The moon wanes through the window, and Sirius lets out a futile cry.

Even if he does escape, Sirius remembers the fight he had with Remus; he won't go where he isn't wanted.

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