I, Sirius

TITLE: I, Sirius


AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: shelley_runyon@yahoo.com


DISCLAIMER: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!


DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy
inspiration - Gary Oldman - and to all those fans whose enthusiasm and kind words keep me going!


a/n: To the person who asked me about the train ride, and Deathly Hallows - for the record, I have not and shall not read DH, therefore I have used my own vision of their meeting. Besides which, I wanted to include Remus. I hated HBP and was sorry I read that, therefore I shall be going rather AU once I reach the area of OOTP, just so you all will know. I hope this does not present a problem for anyone. Thanks for your continued support.


I, Sirius
Reflections of the Brightest Star

Chapter IX - The Great Cauldron Incident

Is there anyone that does not love the great sport of quidditch? I mean, seriously? Or siriusly, even.... Ah, that joke never grows old. Hush, Remus, I am telling this story, and I'll tell it as I see fit. You still laugh when I say it and you know it. James, if he said it once, said it a million times. Lily laughed - maybe once - then told us to grow up please. Rolled her green eyes at us, which only set James off more. He called her his little firecracker. She threatened to blow him up if he wasn't careful. Gods, they were so.... so very volatile together. It's a wonder she didn't kill him. Yes, that is true love, isn't it, Remus? Is that the same reason you never killed me, even though I certainly gave you provocation at times?

Ah yes, I'm digressing, aren't I? Quidditch. Sport of wizards. I've seen a variety of muggle sports since that time, football, rugby, basketball, baseball, as played by the citizens of various nations. And yet nothing quite compares to quidditch. No, I don't think this is mere prejudice speaking, it's simple observation. And even better than mere spectating the sport is playing the sport. There is something that cannot be explained, it has to be experienced, the feeling one gets when one is upon one's broom, flying high above the cheering multitudes, who are so far below that they appear to be nothing but dungbeetles crawling in the stands, playing one's heart out at lofty altitudes, battling against another quidditch team, attempting to best them, outmaneuver them, and most of all to outscore them. I was a keeper - for Gryffindor, of course. Always loved that position and, if I do say so myself, did rather well at it. James was a chaser, besides being captain of the team. Remus never played himself. Mostly because Remus Lupin and brooms just do not go well together. Actually, make that Remus Lupin and heights. Which, when one is referring to flying, is a given. One doesn't fly a foot off the ground, after all. Which, of course, made taking him up on my flying motorcycle all the more difficult. Mind you, I'm not saying impossible, cause of course I managed to get him up there. Often. And not to mention there are things that can be done on a motorcycle when it's on the ground, as well. Very nice things. Ouch, what did I do to deserve that? Come now, you didn't think I'd leave the good parts out? Siriusly? I don't hear you disagreeing with what I said, and you can't hide that smile, my love. At any rate, that's later. Back to quidditch. For now.

I still remember the first quidditch game I was privileged to view - it was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The traditional opening game, as I discovered, of the season, these two houses having been fierce rivals for many years. Albus himself admits that the tension predated even himself, and he's been at the school forever. His theory is that the members of each house are simply diametrically opposed to one another, and that in some ways they are very alike. Too alike. Of course I told him to belay that nonsense, I had no wish to hear that we were in any way shape or form like the snakes. But perhaps, in all honesty, he simply hit a nerve with that analysis, given my family history and all, and there but for the grace of Merlin go I. Gives one pause, doesn't it, to marvel at the way things work in the world - sometimes seamlessly, flawlessly, and at others times it's like a bus being driven by a demented driver, to use a muggle analogy. Or a train falling off the tracks.

The four of us watched the game together, naturally, and James and I were captive fans from the moment it started, Remus and Peter less so. We watched in fascination as the players soared above our heads, maneuvering, outmaneuvering, twisting and turning, each team doing their best to assist both in scoring the most points and in the capturing of the elusive golden snitch. We punched one another enthusiastically, cheered over each and every point scored by our House, booed when the snakes' quaffle hurtled through our goalposts. Remus cheered right along with us, of course, for he was ever a loyal Gryffindor, but he drew the line at the little victory dance we did when our team won the match, climbing up on our seats and shaking our arses for all they were worth. Which seemed to interest the girls of our House somewhat, for we received quite a few cries of approval from the females in our immediate vicinity. Which only led to more of the same, with miscellaneous bows thrown in for good measure. Until Remus walked away, shaking his head, and I leapt down from my perch and followed him. Even then I was always following him, I couldn't seem to help myself. James used to call me Remus' shadow. There were some that referred to me as James' shadow. Peter? He was the dark cloud hanging over our heads. No, that's not true, we didn't see that then, naturally. He was the shadow of the whole group, he never initiated an action nor had an original thought. He was simply there.

We first years had settled rather quickly into the routine of life at Hogwarts, most of the adjustment lying in the matter of our classes. Well, maybe the living arrangements too, but I'll touch on that later. The class schedule was difficult for me at first, I think, because I was not used to such discipline - tutors providing both one-on-one education and a less structured environment after all - and I wasn't used to being around so many other people. Not that I was shy - far from it. I was grateful to have an audience to perform for, and yes, I admit it, I was a terrible showoff, and this inclination only grew with my association with James. He encouraged me, he egged me on, and we tried to outdo one another with our antics. Overweening hubris in the making?

At that time, and as I am sure it is still done today, the houses were mixed together academically in the interests of house unity - I wonder if that is a dream that shall ever be achieved? Or is it simply a pipe dream, one worthy of Eugene O'Neil himself? Minus the iceman, of course. It certainly didn't happen in my day, and from what Harry told me, it didn't come to pass in his either. A sort of natural antipathy having made itself felt between certain houses that no amount of false camaraderie could overcome. In other words, particular houses simply hate one another. And I think you all know just who I mean.

Yes, that eternal feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Otherwise known as the battle between good versus evil. I don't need to remind you which is which, do I? Thought not. And we were unfortunate to be forced to sit through an already difficult class with the prats - namely, potions.

The Potions Master at that time - a role which he repeated during Harry's stint at the school - was one Horace J. Slughorn. Strange man, Slughorn. For a Slytherin, he was rather open-minded, I have to admit, embracing purebloods and halfbloods alike. Pedigree did not seem to matter with him. Lily Evans was an especial favourite of his, a member of his little "society", known affectionately (or not so affectionately) as the Slug Club. I'm not sure if Slughorn was actually that liberal, or if he had ulterior motives - looking back, I think he chose people not just on an academic basis, but on their potential for furthering the interests of one Horace Slughorn. For myself, I chose not to be involved, and eschewed attending any of his little "dinners", disguised attempts at gladhanding, practicing his buddy-buddy techniques on future hopefuls. It didn't hurt that I knew that Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape were attendees at these functions, made turning them down easier. I think I was only included because of my name, and that has always been something I chose not to trade on for anything - I would have much rather forgotten that I was a Black than to blast the fact around.

And now the villain of my piece has a name. Snape. Severus Snape. Or Snivellus as he is affectionately known to us. Am I simply dripping sarcasm or what? Well, I mean to be. Of course Snivellus was in our potions class. Naturally. And within the first few weeks of class, he had attained the dubious honour of becoming the teacher's pet. Slughorn fairly thought the sun rose and set on him and was always praising his work, merlin could his voice get any more oily?, and encouraging the rest of us to be more like him. Which, of course, did not endear him to us any better.

In case you don't recall, we first encountered the snarky bastard on our first night at Hogwarts - the hooknosed git talking to the redheaded Gryffindor girl. Apparently they were bosom buddies or some such tripe, for they were often seen in one another's company. And during potions class they were partners, sharing a table and a cauldron. James and I started out the year as partners as well, but Remus quickly put a stop to that, insisting that the two of us in tandem was altogether much too volatile a situation to be tolerated for the sake of the class (and, he insisted, for our own benefit as well, as we learned early on just exactly what detention entailed), and taking Jamie's place by me. Not that I argued, mind you. And James and I still found ways to communicate with one another during class and plot great deeds even when not seated directly next one another.

No, I've not forgotten what I was going to tell you about, I'm getting there. The Great Cauldron Incident. See? I do remember.

On the day in question, James and I happened to be sharing a table, for Remus was not among our number that day. He was in the infirmary, a place that he went too often in my estimation, and I agonized over each and every absence, and worried about his health. We hadn't caught on yet as to the true nature of his visits to Madame Pomfrey, not until we'd had some time to find the pattern in the regularity and duration of his illnesses. He was too clever to allow us to catch sight of what could have been good clues - namely the self-inflicted scratches with which his body was covered in places. And I was too young yet to try to sneak a peek in the shower - that would come later, when puberty made itself felt, and curiousity tried to kill the cat. Which wasn't proof in and of itself that I was gay. All boys are curious about one another, it's simply human nature. Checking out the competition, seeing what they have, after all. And believe me when I tell you the first time I got a good hard look at Remus, I was amazed. Even as a wee lad, he was, shall we say, well hung. I do believe I'm making the man blush. He's too modest, by far. His body is very beautiful, you know. A true work of art. Always has been, always will be.... What? Yes, I know, I'm off the subject. Hang on for a moment, while I savor this mental image...

Anyway.

I forget what potion we were set to work on on that particular day. It doesn't really matter, anyway, does it? It's what happened that counts, after all. James and I had had a runin with Mr. Greasy at the beginning of class, James making some comment about greasy hair and offering to send over some of his best shampoo to Slytherin for those who couldn't seem to find their own. Naturally, Snape didn't take that at all well - imagine that - and neither did Miss Evans, although I have to admit I snickered pretty loudly myself, and James and I found ourselves on the wrong end of a glare from Lily. Well, that was something of a challenge to James; he hated to be disliked by any pretty girl, and he especially hated not to be the center of attention, the best loved, and all that - but for some reason Lily's disdain for him really sent him off the deep end, and he went out of his way to get her to notice him, even then. Which of course she did, but not in any good way. It was all wasted effort at first, and he certainly made a fool of himself, over and over and over. But all's well that ends well, and I suppose it was good practice for later. Or something. Before any more could be said, we were told to sit down, and Professor Slughorn began the class, outlining what we were to do.

Each table acquired the necessary items for the potion, and soon we were hard at work, mixing our various messes. James always put me in charge of cutting up things, because he said I was neater than he was - probably because of all my practice in the kitchen of #12 Grimmauld - I imagine he made Pete do the same when they partnered, Remus did it himself. James counted out what else we needed, calling it out in one of the various voices he affected - this one was his Germanic professor persona. He rolled his r's outrageously and strutted about the table, putting on quite a show, and drawing an admiring audience of boys and girls alike (Remus once told me he reminded him of someone named Ludwig von Drake, whoever that is). His antics seemed to have no effect on Lily, though, she and Snape had their heads together as they worked, much to James' dismay, and the git actually had the nerve to roll his eyes in our direction, a smirk upon his almost non-existent lips.

What happened next was debated for years afterward. I can but give you my recollection of the event - take it for what it's worth. As I said, we were all working on potions, James was showing off, I was laughing at him, Professor Slughorn was sitting at his desk (I think he had his nose buried in some sort of wizarding social register) when Lily began to head toward the front of the room. James' attention was instantly diverted toward her, while at just that moment Peter, who was sitting at a table beside us, asked for my assistance with something, so naturally I began to help him. It was at this point that our table became vulnerable and open to attack. Suddenly I felt my foot being trodden upon, and I yelped with pain, glancing up to see the big nosed git standing over me.

"Excuse me, Black," he said in that oily voice of his, "my fault entirely," and he moved on past me, but I could see a certain satisfaction in his dark eyes. I scowled at his retreating back - fat lot of good that did - and, finished with Peter, turned back to our cauldron. To my dismay, the previously placid dark liquid, which I had yet to add my chopped things to, was now a volatile green, and the surface was roiling mightily. Oh merlin, I knew this couldn't be good.

"James, what did you do?" I asked.

He tore his eyes away from Evans, turned toward me, obviously confused. "What?" he asked. "What did I do what?"

But before I could get my next words out, there was an awful explosion, and our cauldron began belching green fluid into the air, raining it down upon us stickily and upon everyone in our immediate vicinity. Then it was that I realized what must have happened - when Snape had put his hoof upon my foot, he had taken advantage of my pain and distraction to toss something untoward into our cauldron, causing it to explode. Who better than teacher's pet to know just what would make it blow up? James and I both ducked beneath the table at the same time, amid the scrambling and screaming confusion of our classmates. I could hear Slughorn crying out, "What's going on here? What's going on here?" and Snape offering to assist in the matter. I glanced at James and to my dismay saw that his face was covered in horrible green and black spots, and from the way he was pointing at me, I surmised that my countenance reflected the same. That did it. I came out from under the table screaming Snape's name, and I spotted him, walking around the room, as if trying to aid and comfort the rest of the students, Lily beside him.

"You fucking git! You did this!" But before he could reply - and I had no doubt he would deny it, of course - I had thrown myself at him, tackling him to the ground, as I began to pummel him. I could hear James following after me and I have no doubt he would have joined in the fray had not Slughorn come up behind us just then. He grabbed me by one ear, and then caught up James by one of his, and pulled us away from the slimy Slytherin, who was struggling to his feet, with the aid of Miss Evans.

"He did that!" I cried to the teacher, "he put something in our cauldron that made it blow up." James nodded his head in agreement, but to no avail.

"Did you see him do it?" Slughorn asked us, his face mirroring some sort of teacherly concern, and of course we had to answer in the negative. We could have lied, but that is a Slytherin trait, not a Gryffindor one. "Did you do anything to their potion?" he then proceeded to ask Snape. We weren't surprise to see him shake his greasy head, naturally. The snake. "Then you will have to serve detention," was the next response - who couldn't have seen that coming? Certainly not our first, nor last, bount of detention to be served during our tenure at Hogwarts. Slughorn dismissed the class, and sent James and I to the infirmary, where Madame Pomfrey put something on our faces that seemed to sting an inordinate amount, and added a strange pink glow to our faces until the green and black spots healed. I suppose it could have been worse, they could have formed pustules or something, and exploded. But that might have been cool too, who knows.

As we were leaving the classroom for the infirmary, we passed by Lily and her puppet, their potion complete and perfect, of course, having been praised by Slughorn for its perfection. Lily looked at us disdainfully. "You shouldn't blame your own incompetence on other people," she chided, "maybe if you studied once in a while, instead of always playing games and pulling stupid pranks...."

James tried to protest that we had done nothing to deserve her contumely, but she merely shook her head at him and walked away. Snape, though, looked straight into my eyes, before he said, "Know your enemy, Black," in his cold emotionless voice. And then he too walked off, while James and I were shooed off to the infimary by Slughorn.

Although we had never been on any sort of friendly terms before, from that day forward we were sworn enemies - Snape versus James and Remus and Peter and I (Remus and Peter more by proxy than actuality). And that day saw the bestowing of a nickname upon the four of us which stuck to us throughout our school days and beyond. We were sitting in our Common Room that night, and I was receiving my lecture from Remus for what I had done (but a watered-down version as he seemed to be too tired to give it to me fullforce), when Lily walked in, planting herself in front of us, hands on hips, green eyes flashing indignation.

"You four think you're so clever," she remonstrated, "like you're some sort of gods or something. Well you're nothing but common marauders in my book, so there!" And she turned up her nose and walked away.

We looked at one another with great delight - well, more James and I, Remus was frowning a bit and Peter was confused, as most of what happened in Slughorn's class had gone over his head. That sounded, well, rather piratical. And what eleven year old boy doesn't wish to think of himself as some sort of pirate? The marauders we became, and the marauders we stayed for a very long time. Although now there are just two of us left, one being sadly deceased, and the other one stricken from the records long ago.

And now begins the Marauder Era.

I just like the way that sounds. Don't laugh, Remus.