Characters: James Potter and Sirius Black
Setting: Sunday afternoon, Potter residence
Summary: Sirius is avoiding things
Rating/Status: Commmplete? xD
Sirius didn't know what time it was and honestly, he didn't much care to find out. He'd been asleep most of the day, having been moved from his spot at the foot of James and Lily's bed to his guest bed. His throat and mouth were dry with that gross, 'nothing could taste worse than this' after-nap taste. He rubbed his eye with his left fist and meandered down the stairs slowly careful to miss the cat's tail (though in years before he might have deliberately stepped on it, shows how much he'd grown up) and made his way into the living room. He flopped down on the couch next to James with a heavy sigh. Sirius looked at his mate, met his stare and defiantly reached for one of James' tea sandwiches, swiping it off his plat and stuffing it in his mouth before James could do anything about it.
He crunched down on it and raised an eyebrow before sitting back against the couch. Sirius resisted the urge to put his bare feet on the table, just barely. "Sorry about your team. I really thought that the 'pults might actually go all the way. Maybe next year and we can get the Prewetts to get us any sort of tickets. You know they've got the connections. "
James hadn't been sure how he could be anymore depressed than he was last night when fucking McLaggen caught the snitch---well, no, that was a bold faced lie, he definitely knew how to be more depressed, and had been more depressed, but once again, it was like some hand of fate decided to snatch away that bright orb of happiness mere seconds before he could grab hold. Only this time the happy orb was a bloody snitch, and the hand was of that giant seeker on the United who---well, whatever. The Catapults had made it to the finals, they'd done better than all but one of the teams in the league and, well. He was proud.
And not even brooding over that (much) anymore. Sirius' early arrival led to great suspicion on James' part, but with the delivery of the Daily Prophet James immediately knew what had caused his friend's abrupt visit. Not that James particularly cared for Sirius' father, no, he was actually glad that the man was good and dead, but he knew that Sirius had never really dealt with the ramifications of being disowned or...or well really getting to say his peace. Or, something, James didn't know.
He sent a glare toward Sirius, but then with his foot kicked over the wireless that was spewing interviews from the match last night on the coffee table. He didn't know why he was torturing himself with it, but it most likely had to do with trying to avoid the more serious matter at hand, "Yeah, but then Gideon's going to say I have to root for the fucking Pride; I'll go beg through the journals again if I have to."
Sirius gave a half-hearted snicker, "As if the Pride could get that far again. They were just lucky not to meet up with United in the first round. Their team is a bunch of old fogies and then the Prewetts. They won't be able to rely on the two of them to carry them through next season as well."
It was nice to just talk to James about quidditch, but he knew there was a giant elephant in the room that he could tell James wanted to talk about – or at least make sure Sirius was okay with. Whatever that meant, there was no being Okay with parents dying and even though Sirius hated the weakling, backbone lacking, whipped husband of his mother it was still a huge…something. Punch to his gut wasn't strong enough, but Sirius didn't think he should care as much to say that it actually hurt and that there was something missing, because this wasn't supposed to hurt. Not when someone like Orion Black died, it shouldn't.
"I was thinking of changing my name," Sirius said, changing the subject abruptly and letting his head rest on the back of the couch, "Just drop the whole last name thing. Like Cher. I mean, she married Sonny who had a last name so I suppose she's Cher Bono, but she doesn't go by that. I was thinking just 'Sirius' or even changing that. I think I'd make a pretty good Wallace or Patrick, don't you think?"
"You can't drop your last name, do you know how awesome of a name 'Sirius Black' is?" James said with an overly bewildered expression. In the wizarding world, the name was synonymous with the house-elf beheading pureblood family, but if you ignored all that rubbish, it really was a killer name to be bestowed. "What kind of personality does a bloke named 'Wallace' have? That makes me think of an ice cream vendor or something, one of those with the push carts on the pavement, not a fancy shoppe like Fortescue's."
James shook his head lightly. Today was Sirius' birthday, they should be going out with Remus and Peter and tearing the mickey out of each other while getting pissed. Because that was what March was all about, and had been for the past seven or so years. Well, maybe they didn't start getting drunk until around fifth year, but even before then the Marauders had made an obnoxious spectacle of their birth month. Honestly, the stars aligned themselves rather nicely when it gave the four boys such close in date birthdays.
"Do you want to meet Moony and Pete for dinner or...?" he asked, unsure of what Sirius wanted to do with the day. It was still his birthday, after all, and at the end of the day he should have a decent time.
"Sirius Black doesn't exist, he's only a figment of your imagination that I've allowed you to believe," Sirius poked James lightly in the temple with a sardonic grin, "Wallace sounds like a good strong name. And maybe a carrot vendor. I could sell carrots to rabbit owners. Wallace Winter's Famous Fabulous Carroty Carots. I could make loads and loads of orange money off them there carrots."
He shook his head a little, still smiling because he was unable to control the bullshit that was coming out of his mouth. "Waffles, we could have waffles. Go to that one place, that waitress always hits on the blokes. We could get Moony laid. I'm sure she'd sleep with him."
James snorted at the idea of the carrot vendor; all right, so Sirius was either doing a really good job at avoiding the two-ton gorilla in the room, or he really didn't give a shit about his father's passing. James was better on the first choice, and he stuffed another sandwich into his mouth before turning to Sirius with a suspicious glance, chewing thoughtfully.
"Who told you about your father?" he asked, because Padfoot had been whining at the foot of his bed long before the Prophet had arrived, and James was sure that Sirius wouldn't have gone alone into St. Mungo's to see his father (plus, it had been far too much fun polyjuicing some of the healers he used to work for, oy--). If he had, James would have to smack him a few good times to the back of the head, but then at least he'd get a good idea of how his friend was taking this. James knew that if his father had died, he'd be a complete wreck, but was Sirius in the same position? Orion Black was his biological father, but he was just that, at least, that's how James saw it. He allowed his family to do horrible things to Sirius and ostracize his eldest son because of the things he believed in. That wasn't a father, that was a business man who only dealt with those he could use to benefit himself. "The Prophet?"
Sirius shook his head, "No, Andromeda. She came and woke me up this morning, felt it would be better not to hear it from the news. Honestly, I think she must have had a row with my mother from the way she was worked up about it all. And you know she doesn’t easily get shoved around so it must have been a doozy of a row."
He turned his head and let his forehead crash onto James' shoulder with a sigh, "I didn't think anyone was going to die. Alice was getting better so was everyone else and well now there's a bunch more people getting sick, but if they were getting better on their own its fine but. Of course the stubborn fuck has to go and die and now everyone else is going to be fucking terrified."
James was about to comment that Dearborn had said the virus was deadly, and that it wasn't much of a surprise, but---no, not the time for nit-picking. He smirked at Sirius' attempt to get affection, wondering if Padfoot still had a bit of control of his mind.
"People always die, Sirius," James said, his voice monotone and low. He patted Sirius' head a few times, his foot moving out to try and tip the wireless back over, because he really shouldn't be taking out any anger on his belongings. Lily blowing up their living room after the fiasco with her parents was still taking its toll; the place where they replaced the lamps they had just bought two weeks before still looked at him funny. Augh--he needed to stop going on these mental tangents; James had just been so used to the idea of people dying and losing people and dying himself that he knew someone near and dear to his heart had to die for him to really be moved again.
He didn't want this to happen, of course, but James knew that was the only way he would get himself to care more than a few sympathetic words. Sirius' father didn't deserve any thought, and James wanted to relate that to his friend, but he knew Sirius wasn't going to agree with the concept.
"We can't do much more than what we're doing now," he said with a sigh, thinking of the cauldrons bubbling in the basement of the Order house, attempting to work on a cure as they spied on the healers at St. Mungo's--- "We're doing what we can."
Sirius was really glad James didn't make some attempt to commiserate with him over lost parents mostly because that would put him in the same category as Mrs. Potter and Sirius would not allow that. Mrs. Potter was in a good place, and his father, well for all that Sirius cared, he could rot in the center circle of hell. Sirius was sure that his father had betrayed someone at some point for it to matter. "Smith's kid is there now. Elphias is still there... I don't know if there's much we can do. And what good does killing one of their own do anything?"
He was pretty sure his old man was a Death Eater, even though he had zero confirmation that his father was actually a card-carrying (or tattoo wearing in this instance) member, but he knew his brother was, they'd figured that at least. That was the worrying part - what would his brother do now that he was head of the family. At seventeen. Head of the fucking Noble house of Black. "I don't know." Sirius shrugged and closed his eyes, hoping that the thoughts in his mind would slow down just enough for him to latch onto one thought.
He'd spent enough time in St. Mungo's to know that medicine and the things it cures are not as predictable as one may thing. Allergies and various reactions between different potions could prove life-saving to one and fatal to others----the first thing James had been worried about was how, when the virus was actually released, it would be contained. A virus that no one had ever seen before, a virus that was showing signs of being immune to any kind of potion or spell the healers knew---no, they had so much more trouble on their hands then they could ever have thought.
"Shit," James muttered at the news of the baby. His heart ached at the thought, knowing how hard it would be for the kid to survive---he stood then, stretching quickly and looking down at Sirius with an expectant expression. "Moony's getting here soon---Pete's probably on his way, too. We can raid the fridge and bring a ton of shit down to the House and do some research, it's the only thing that's going to help right now."
His eyebrows went high; this was the only thing he was going to let Sirius do today, there wasn't going to be any moping or self-deprication or woe-is-me time. Not when they actually had the opportunity to do some good.
"What about my waffles?" Sirius mumbled, letting himself fall face first onto the couch in James' absence. Honestly, he didn't want to celebrate his birthday at all and well it didn't seem like James was going to let him get out of it. Maybe if he complained that he was sick or something. "Moony's bringing my cat. Pets are the exception to the party rule." He added as a warning, because he knew that Lily's cat really didn't like his kitten, but whatever, it would have to deal.
"I will make you waffles," James said with a solemn nod and light smile. He could give him that much. It wasn't going to be a typical birthday celebration, but James would be damned if Sirius wasn't going to spend the day without Remus or Peter. It was a tradition, to make sure your friends were the ones with you on your birthday---it wasn't too much to ask, right? "And, of course Tink's allowed."
James kicked out and pushed up the cushion Sirius' face was smashed into to get him to get up. Most of the day would probably be spent bullshitting in the Order's basement, but at least they could try to come up with something, and keep their minds off of all the annoyances that seemed to plague them daily, "Up--go shower, birthday boy needs to smell fresh and clean or he gets no presents."
"You can't cook, James Potter," Sirius said, rolling onto the floor with a thud and grabbing his mate around the knees to pull him down into a half marauder pile - because they were missing two of their people, but Sirius really didn't want to get ready and distracting James with wrestling techniques seemed like an effective waste of time. Plus, if Peter or Remus showed up, they could just join in and make it a full pile. "And you've given me presents when I was dirtier, before."
James let out a groan as he was knocked to the floor, and didn't try to fight back too much. He knew Sirius' distraction tactics by now, James knew this was a ploy to procrastinate and waste time. Argh, how he wished that he could be back in a time where he was perfectly content with wasting away the day being stupid, but Sirius had just said it---he was concerned about what they could do to stop the madness out there, and James couldn't find it in himself to fool around. Not that they were the ones really in charge of the mission this time---oy, it was days like this that James wished he could still don his neon green robes.
"Yes---well----no Hogwarts means----new rules," James muttered, trying to wiggle and wrestle his way out of his mate's hold. No, see--Sirius liked to keep James' mind off of the things terrorizing him in his way, so James was going to take control and not let this dwell any longer. "Padfoot, come on, just get up----get pissed, or something---"
Ugh, this was going to be a long day.
