"We don’t have a list? But Moony is so organised, he has to have a list! Write down on the list we need to make a list." James cracked a grin in the darkness, "I’m just imagining the brightest yellow custard all over those gits’ faces. Especially Malfoy. It’d go with his hair."
As he pulled his legs up and over, he pulled a face, even if Sirius couldn’t see it and kicked him (gently…but all the same) as he climbed up. “Terribly sorry Pads. Didn’t see you there.”
There was that terribly obvious flaw in the dragon plan he had to admit. “Merlin, ever the voice of reason you are.” It looked like the dragons were out. James followed him, picking up a few things off the shelves as he went and pocketed them; though he vaguely kept track, he never worried too much about the exact amount. He could afford to pay more. Occasionally he wondered what he’d do if his parents weren’t rich, but they were, so there wasn’t much point in worrying about it. “Oh hey, I know that look in a dog. It’s kind of how you looked when I Transfigured your bed into a dog kennel. Oh hey, I haven’t seen this before.” James held up the chocolate bar - Enough sugary goodness to give you a beauty boost for the day - and illuminated it with his wand for Sirius to see.
Sirius hummed in consideration. “You’re right, we should ask him. If any of us has a list, it’s definitely him.”
The thought of Malfoy covered in custard made him snicker mercilessly. “Do you think so though, really? With that silvery shade of his, and all yellow custard… it’d look horrible if you ask me.”
"Oi! Wanker," Sirius retaliated to the kick, pushing James up and out of the way in front of him so that he could follow. They had been here so many times, they knew the way by heart, and even in the dark they’d have known what was standing where, as long as the owners hadn’t decided to reorganise everything. "Aah, good to see all you sugary goodnesses…"
He huffed out a laugh, glancing at James with a reproachful look. “Me, voice of reason. I think you’re mistaking me for a certain someone else. I wouldn’t exactly call that reason, more… realism,” he grinned but then turned his attention back to the shelves full of sweets to pick out what he wanted to take. “Hey, that dog kennel thing wasn’t funny. All those dog jokes, seriously, as if you’re all not inventive enough to come up with anyone else. And just so you know, if it came to it, you’d all stand no chance against me. So much for ‘puppy dog’,” he grinned wryly but followed James’ direction of attention and snickered. “What? What the heck is that? We should put a whole lot of them in a basket and send it to Lockhart. No wait, he’d take it too seriously… maybe Malfoy again then.”
"Mustn’t forget the foxtrot now. Or the cha-cha. It’s a good thing you have me to consult, considering I’m the best dancer in the school." James then twisted enthusiastically but rather ungracefully in the middle of the dorm.
"Yeeeaaah, you’re the expert on standard dancing now?" Sirius snickered unabashedly at James’ antics. "I petition for the inclusion of Samba and Salsa too. And if you’re already on it, I’d like a demonstration on that too."
No, not the time in detention, but the time you had at your hands if you weren’t busy writing lines or scrubbing the floor of the great hall … Are you misunderstanding me on purpose?
Me? Proud of my hair? Have you seen that mess? I think I broke more than one comb with it …
Uhm … yes. Probably … yes. If you say that that’s what Pads is …
No, Moony… what ever are you doing in detention? Either some of us are together and we’re left alone and can plan. Or, even scrubbing the floor… when are your thoughts ever so free to plan a good prank as when you’re scrubbing a floor?
Yes, it rivals Prongs’. That itself is an impressive feat, my friend.
Err well, I wouldn’t say that’s what he is. But it seems like Moony thinks that way from time to time.
She had expected him to meander a bit more vaguely towards his point. Perhaps the anger emanating from his tense form made him more direct, but their tempers ran along similar fault lines, and eruptions tended towards a slow building up of burning magma just as often as they did a sudden explosion of ash. After all, he was still a Black, he was still related to her; however vehemently they both protested it, the fact remained, insurmountable in its resolute immovability. They could disown him, burn his image off the tapestry, pretend he had never existed, but it did not change the fact that Bellatrix Black had once played with Sirius Black in the gardens behind the manor while their nursemaids watched impassively from the window.
A hundred emotions bubbled beneath her skin, and she had the sudden urge to laugh. Instead, she smiled again, skin stretching across bone. “Perhaps I was. Then again, there’s a good chance I wasn’t.”
There was also a good chance she was toying with him. If there was one thing of which she was absolutely certain, it was that Sirius had a temper as short as her own.
And she was dying for a good fight.
Sirius hadn’t lost any thought on it since he had left home, not once yet, and he definitely hadn’t lost any sleep over it. But in that moment, with the way she was looking at him, he wondered briefly what the Blacks were saying about him outside of these walls, back in that place, his parents and Bellatrix’ parents. He didn’t care, not really, Sirius knew that. And he could imagine vividly what the reactions and thoughts to his name were, but that didn’t hurt. It really didn’t matter. There was nothing his family had given him (save for Regulus and, sometimes, Andromeda, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him), so he owed them nothing in return.
He had a new family now. One that understood him, one that respected him, one he loved. And yet it was easier to deny any connection with his or her parents than with his brother or cousins. Even with Bellatrix.
Her antwort didn’t really surprise him either. It was maybe a somewhat stupid question, and he couldn’t have expected a blatant yes from her. Or who knew… it was Bellatrix. If he was honest with himself, Sirius wouldn’t even put that past her. But to play these games, that definitely wasn’t surprising.
Sirius could feel his fists tightening briefly by his side. “You’re all just itching to be expelled, aren’t you.”
"Because that really wouldn’t scare the life out of them. Oh- oh, the can-can though! Or Irish dancing. Or they could all be Elvis Presleys. That is it. Can we give them all quiffs?" Picking up another teddy, he was already bobbing up onto the balls of his feet. "Tassels.”
Sirius burst into laughter at the thought of each suggestion. “Brilliant. Let’s give each a different dance. That way we can have Irish and Elvis and whatnot without leaving anything out. One can waltz, too. Or tango!”
Just because you have too much time to think then. But you know that this is not quiiite the point of detention, right?
But now imagine what pranks, bulletproof ones by the way, you could think of if you had all that time you’re spending in detention free and at your own disposal?
Nothing’, we all know you’re proud of your hair.
Right … like I said … it’s because I need somewhere to sleep … and Pads needs so much space … and you know …
Well, yes. That’s what detention is for. And all the time spent in detention is free and at my own disposal…?
You can be proud of your hair too, you know?
Yes, I know, like a big furry fluffy pillow.