Every Second of My Life

Author's Note: So Deathly Hallows has unexpectedly ruined me for writing any non-canon ships. I mean, it's not as if I really thought there was a chance for Snape/Hermione, it's just that I didn't care. "What's hot is hot." I said, "And fuck the consequences!"

But then something magical happened. And I don't mean magical like Wingardium Leviosa! or "Harry Potter has cast a spell over millions of readers!" I mean that I was suddenly incapable of sitting down to write a non-canon fic without squicking myself.

That's alright, though. It's not like there isn't enough to work with anyway.

So this is my first completely canon story, if you can call the lethargic excrement that is to come a story.

There's lemons to come, I just wanted to get set up good and proper.

Lethargic Excrement title taken from "Life Is A Pigsty" by Morrissey.


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It had been such a long time since I’d felt so content.

It was the night the kids had gone back to school after their Christmas holiday, and Sirius and I lounged in his old, dusty library, sipping firewhiskey.

I hadn’t been able to find another job, for what felt like the millionth time in my life, and then been evicted from my Muggle apartment, but Sirius had rescued me from another winter spent camping in the Shrieking Shack.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything, mate. It’s a bit difficult, not being able to leave,” Sirius growled apologetically, a hint of anger in his voice.

I smiled tiredly, “You’ve no idea the guilt I’d have had if you’d gotten me anything. You’re letting me stay here, room and board, all for free. I’m only regretting not being able to get you anything…”

Sirius waved his drink a bit drunkenly, “Don’t put me on some sort of pedestal, Moony. I’d go completely insane if I had to be stuck in this hole alone for god knows how long…”

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, staring into the fire.

I was just starting to nod off when I heard Sirius sigh.

“Do you remember…” he said, his voice soft, almost as though the words would scatter if he spoke them too loudly, “Do you remember that last Christmas?”

I knew what he was talking about immediately, and I smiled, though my heart was breaking at the memory.

“We spent a week there…it was Harry’s first Christmas…He fell asleep halfway through dinner, remember?”

Sirius laughed out loud, “Just started snoring into his stuffing!”

“And then James got roaring drunk and transfigured the tree into that immense goldfish! Remember the look on Lily’s face when she came in after putting Harry down?”

“And James couldn’t remember the spell he used, and she got so pissed and hung him up by his ankle until she put the tree right again!” the two were roaring with laughter by know, and Sirius continued, “And then she made him clean up the mess he made on the carpet!”

“Remember how the three of us couldn’t move to help, for laughing so hard?” I said, forgetting in my semi-drunken state.

Sirius stopped laughing and drained his glass. I followed suit, wishing heartily I’d already fallen asleep.

It was a long time until Sirius spoke again.

“That was the last time we were all together.”

I said nothing, but stared into the fire, my mind alight with memories. It had been the last time, I realized. Before Lily and James had gone into hiding, and Peter had betrayed them. Betrayed us all, really, kept us from having a happy, normal life.

There were James and Lily, dead and gone these fourteen years, and Sirius imprisoned for twelve, and Harry, little Harry, orphaned and carrying a weight far heavier than one so young should have to bear. So far removed from the child who had fallen asleep into his Christmas dinner…

I heard the clinking of glasses as Sirius refilled his drink. I wordlessly held out my own glass.

“Do you think…things will ever be like that again?” said Sirius, his rough voice low. I could tell he was getting rather shitfaced; the firewhiskey sloshed out of my glass as he refilled it. Or perhaps it was my hand that shook.

I said nothing again. I didn’t want to answer.

“Do you think that things will ever be… so happy again?” he repeated.

I was silent, drinking more firewhiskey, before I finally spoke, the words seeming to come from somewhere deep in the recesses of my soul, “Perhaps…someday…” I looked into the fire again, “Maybe…maybe not for us…maybe our time is gone…but perhaps…someday…”

“Well,” said Sirius slowly, and I should have expected what was to come, given that look in his eye I’d seen so often growing up, “I know a certain…cousin…who might be able to give you that sort of happiness…”

I sighed the sigh of the long-suffering.

“Please, Sirius. You know…why I can’t…Tonks is…she’s just…I’m just…” I trailed off, the alcohol stemming my already awkward explanation into incoherence.

It seemed Sirius knew better than to push the subject, like he’d done countless times already. Like Molly Weasley always brought up the subject ever so casually. Like Mad-Eye always gave me that unpleasant, disapproving look when he caught Tonks looking at me…or me looking at Tonks. Hell, even Severus had shot me an incredulous sneer when he’d figured it out.
I ran my hands through my hair, hoping the subject would change.

It didn’t. It was only to get more uncomfortable.

“Look, mate,” Sirius was saying, waving his drink around again, “You’ve got to promise me that you’ll at least try to be slightly happy at some point in your bloody life. I mean, I know I’ve got a twelve-year hole in my knowledge of your life, but haven’t you loved a girl since Lily?”

I jerked more noticeably than I would have liked. “What? But…but…how…?”

Ah, sputtering. The last refuge of the decidedly embarrassed.

Sirius laughed loudly, making me feel worse, if possible, and went on, “It was bloody obvious, mate! Especially in school, but I still noticed your sad, longing glances after they were married…”

I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence, as I’d buried my head in my hands and groaned.

“Oh, don’t get all cut up over it,” I heard him say, though he was still chuckling, “I reckon everyone in our year had a crush on Lily at some point. If you want to be honest, I thought she’d go with you over James any day.”

I picked up my glass again, still miserable. “Yeah, well…she didn’t…and I eventually got over it…”

“Yeah…” said Sirius, “Eventually. After Harry was born…”

Sirius’ barking laughter was lost as I hit my head on the coffee table.

I sat up, wincing and rubbing my head, wishing the firewhiskey hadn’t given me such a desire for theatrics.

“Yes, my pitiful love life is bloody hilarious. Thank you terribly for the confidence, you…you assrag… but I’d like to drain the rest of that drink and go to bed…”

Grabbing the whiskey, I did just that, swaying fantastically before clunking the bottle on the armrest of Sirius’ chair.

I made my way out of the room, pausing only to negotiate around a desk that I was sure hadn’t been quite so mobile prior to our drinking.

“Alright, fine!” yelled Sirius after me, too loud and several moments after I’d stumbled out of the door, “Go…go wallow in your misery, old man! You know I’m right!”

And I did.

I really did.