That’s not … well, to be honest, there are moments when I do question it. Sometimes.
Well, it’s not exactly mindlessly slaving away … but yes, it could be used differently, though I’d say the common room is still more efficient after all.
I, uhm … I don’t know. Couple of weeks ago, I’d say. Why?
You’re welcome, though you don’t sound very convinced? ‘Awfully nice’?
A sense of pack? You mean that he uses Padfoot as a pillow is a sign of … because they are a pack?
Yeah, you still love us, don’t deny it.
Common room? Nah, the dorms are much better, with no one to overhear and all.
Oh, just, you know. No reason.
No, but I am convinced. That was a compliment, I recognised that.
Well. Yeah? He does recognise and see us as pack, I’m rather sure about that.
Regulus had been just in the motion of leaping up from his chair when Professor McGonagall’s sharp look made him sink back into his seat. It didn’t stop him from sending Sirius a dark glare. His hand tightened around his quill, hard enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if it broke in two. “I’m no less surprised,” he muttered darkly, but more to himself than to Sirius.
He forced himself to turn back to the roll of parchment spread out before him. There was a number of books spread out about him, all of them on Transfiguration. As far as detentions went, being forced to write an extra essay was a laughable one. Scrubbing cauldrons would have been disgusting, and being left at the tender mercies of Argus Filch would have been absolutely terrible but this was as harmless as it came.
Regulus scowled at the parchment in front of him. Well, it had been easy and pleasant until he had walked into the room. He had been writing… something about… something and he would be damned if he could even remember the rest of the sentence he had been writing.
Professor McGonagall was telling Sirius to copy Filch’s list of banned objects, and Regulus forced himself to stifle a disdainful snort. Sirius was bound to take nothing but inspiration from the list. Whatever he had done, the punishment was too mild to fit the crime anyway, but of course McGonagall would coddle her precious Gryffindor.
He tensed further when Sirius was told to take the desk right next to his, to his right, and clenched his teeth hard enough for his jaw to ache. He would simply ignore him. Yes, he only had two hours in detention tonight, how hard could it be to ignore Sirius for two hours? He had been doing just fine for the last six weeks.
Blasted tattling Hufflepuffs, it was all their fault he was here in the first place. It wasn’t like he had been involved in hexing them, but he had been with the boys who had and the stupid Hufflepuffs hadn’t been able to keep their mouths shut about it. Nobody liked a sneak, he thought viciously.
But that wasn’t the problem here. No, he just had to keep ignoring Sirius. He would be fine, Professor McGonagall was here and would forbid them to talk.
Much to his horror, McGonagall stood up as soon as Sirius had sat down and cleared her throat, giving them a worried look. “I have a conference with Professor Dumbledore, but I expect you to behave yourselves without constant supervision. If I hear of you causing any trouble you will be serving detention for the rest of the week,” she said, and added ominously, “together.”
Regulus’ quill snapped, spilling black ink over his parchment and fingers.
Sirius had no illusions about the fact that, if he could, Regulus would simply jump up from his chair and leave the room without so much as a word or a backward glance. Their parents had probably seen to that, had made it very clear to him that he was under no circumstances to acknowledge or interact with Sirius again, he was rather sure about that. Had maybe even used threats. There was nothing, really, that Sirius wouldn’t past them at this point, to make sure that their remaining heir would stay in line.
And yes, Sirius himself was probably reason for that as well. He had acted as he often did when he was angry or in other ways emotionally unstable: rashly and without thought. Had simply grabbed his things and had walked out, anger still boiling in his veins, and only after the door had shut behind him had he realised that he had left his brother behind. But that door had closed, and he hadn’t been able to go back.
It was a mistake, he knew that. Because even though he had rolled his eyes at Regulus’ attitude of good little son all the time, had wanted to shout at and shake him for not seeing what was happening, for just going along with it all, he was still his little brother. And he remembered very well that as kids, all they’d had was each other, most of the time, and that they had gone through it all together. And he hadn’t wanted to leave him to them.
But now just what he had feared had happened. So in a way Sirius was grateful for this detention, and for McGonagall for putting him and Regulus together. He tried to look aloof as he half-heartedly listened to what his Head of House told him to do, tried not to show any reaction as she told him to sit next to his brother, but for once, he was entirely happy to do just what she said. So he dropped down onto the chair and took the list, his mind working already on what to say to his brother. Because sooner or later he would.
He hadn’t thought that McGonagall would help him like this. He’d have kissed her, really, but he forced himself to do nothing but draw up his eyebrows and shrug. “No problem for me,” Sirius said, just when Regulus broke his quill. He glanced over at his brother and forced himself to remain silent until McGonagall had actually left the room. Only then he got up, hopped onto his desk, and put his foot up on the edge of his chair to cross his arms on his knee.
I never claimed to be ‘always right’, but some things are just a thing of common sense, you know? But learning from these experiences and trying to avoid those isn’t too bad either, isn’t it?
See? I just think that the common room is a better place to plan pranks than detention. Plus the teachers could overhear then.
The difference is that James still looks like he has some kind of haircut while mine just seems to stand in to every direction. And I didn’t mean to make you sound like a girl, but more like … I dunno, a compliment of sorts, or whatever …
You … you were talking about my bed earlier … never mind … and I didn’t say that Moony doesn’t think, I know that it does, I just meant that Moony probably doesn’t think about that.
Pff, you make us sound as if we have no common sense at all.
Yeah but that was never the question, was it? I only talked about how even detention can be used to your advantage instead of mindlessly slaving away.
Well… when did you get your last haircut? And thanks mate, that’s awfully nice of you.
Yeah okay, I’ll give you that. But he has a sense of pack too, you know?
"Not what I meant—!” His grin muffled the plight of earnest eyes, gracelessly trying to nudge his verbal blooper under the proverbial rug.
"Yeah I didn’t think that was what you meant," Sirius grinned back.
"And I haven’t exactly seen girls run from you. But those back there were kind of hilarious, I have to admit. What did you try to do with the chess pieces anyway?"
"Um, Black, in case you weren’t paying attention, I wasn’t exactly listening to Professor Binns last class. Or the one before. And I’ve been trying to read along in the textbook, but there’s just so much and I’m so behind and - " Lily paused, staring at the lazy boy sitting next to her
"Why am I even telling this to you, anyway? It’s not like you care. You didn’t even know we had a test."
"Huh." Sirius watched her in amused curiosity. "What did you do then, if you weren’t paying attention to him? Last class or the one before or the one before…" he grinned.
"Well, what’s the test gonna be about?"
"Be prepared, man. Be prepared." Shaking out his limbs, one foot and hand at a time, he energetically set into a salsa - or perhaps it was a samba. Nobody could be sure, but involved a lot of shaking hips. He tried for a high kick, not really knowing if that was involved in salsa or samba, but feeling it had enough flourish, and there was a ripping sound. "Shite." He looked down at his trousers.
Sirius was already somewhere between laughing and burying his face in his hand at what James was doing, the shaking and flailing, when the sharp sound of ripping fabric let them both pause for a moment. When Sirius saw what had happened, this time there was nothing but laughter.
"That was… impressive, really…"
They’ll have to:
- Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question.
- Answer that question.
I’m doing what we are supposed to do, and oftentimes cursing you guys silently in addition, that’s what I do. And giving you the mentioned “I told you so” stares.
And I would like to say that I think my thoughts work best when I’m not busy writing lines, but can snuggle into a comfortable chair around the fireplace and discuss the plans with you?
Prongs’ hair has a life of its own, mine is just an annoying mess. You’re the one who can be proud of this … this … you know, shiny, silky … hair.
Moony thinks … I doubt that Moony thinks that, and Moony doesn’t sleep in my bed, and you know …?
Come on, it’s not as if you’re always right about everything and know that it won’t work beforehand. There were times when you ran smack into trouble right with us without any foresight on your part.
Well, I won’t deny that it’s definitely more comfortable around the fireplace.
Yeah, his is an annoying mess, yours is an annoying mess, where’s the difference? Uuh, yeah, shiny, silky, don’t make me sound like a girl.
Yes, sure, but I wasn’t talking about your bed exclusively. And I do think Moony thinks.