(no subject)
All These Things That I Have Done
Harry Potter GEN
So I've been... yeah, I work at a library, so I was digging through Prisoner of Azkaban trying to find things about Peter Pettigrew for... well, nevermind. I found other things instead, and had to say a few things about 'em.
In other words, I wrote HP gen. Crazzzzzy, I know.
1. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd have told me what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."- Rosmerta
"Not to worry, James old buddy..." Sirius winked devilishly as they they trudged down the streets towards The Three Broomsticks. "I'll handle Rosmerta." James almost groaned. This was not going to go well; past experience had taught him that. But for some reason, Sirius loved to try. And who was James to stop him?
Sirius stepped up onto the steps of the pub, and threw the door open wide. The few customers (really, though, there weren't many; it was the middle of the day) looked up from their tables, rolled their eyes at the two boys who stood grinning at the door, and promptly went back to their drinks.
"Sirius Black and James Potter, you get out of my pub right now." The shrill, if not amused, sound of Madame Rosmerta's voice came floating over the bar, and Sirius turned to face her. "If Dumbledore has my head for this, I'm going to have yours! The both of ya!"
"Rosmerta, darling, the very sound of your voice is music to my ears." Sirius drawled, stepping up to the bar and leaning over it, so that his hair fell casually into his eyes. James hated it when he did that; it made the girls go all a-flutter in the sorts of ways that James' short, unruly mop never could. Good Slytherin breeding, Sirius always called it.
Madame Rosmerta smiled slightly, just like she always did, and James almost laughed out loud. "I mean it, now, Black. Get out, before I get McGonagall in here."
"Ah," Sirius grinned, perching atop a bar stool, "but you wouldn't give me up. You're much too kind, too lovely, too wonderful..."
"You sit there a moment longer, and you'll see just how wonderful I can be..." but she was blushing now, and James never could figure out how Sirius always managed to wrap them around his finger so easily.
Madame Rosmerta was the subject of whispers, taunts, and awe among the boys of Hogwarts. It was sometime during their third year, James recalled, that Sirius, as cocky as ever and bragging about his manly charms, had been dared to approach the good-looking barmaid. While most of the kids who ever dared to do this had gotten smacks upside the head and had been reported to the Headmaster, Rosmerta has simply laughed at Sirius and told him to run along before he hurt himself.
Now, they were in their sixth year, and Sirius had picked up a thing or two. He leaned over the bar, grinning cockily, putting his face as close to Rosmerta's ear as he could possibly do without either falling over the bar or getting slapped. "Come on, love. Just one for the road. We're dying, here."
It was, James feared, touch and go for a moment, but finally, looking slightly flustered and jerking quickly as far away from Sirius as she could, Rosmerta filled two mugs with mead and slammed them down in front of them. "I swear to Merlin, Sirius Black." her voice was firm, but kindly, as she went back to wiping glasses, "if Dumbledore finds out about this..."
"It'll be our little secret." Sirius winked at her, before picking up his mug and holding it in a triumphant sort of toast. James shook his head in disbelief, but took his seat beside Sirius.
**********
2. "You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers." Chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable."
"Oh-ho! I can see you there, SIRIUSBLACKANDJAMESPOTTER!" They weren't going to get away with it this time, of that Flitwick was sure. It was quite a feat, among the staff at Hogwarts, to catch the two most notorious pranksters.
"Detention! Potter, you meet me tonight in the Charms classroom. Sirius, you'll do yours with Professor Diggins in the greenhouse."
"Professor," Black moaned, looking quite put-upon, "If you take me away from James, I will kill myself."
He was rewarded with an elbow in the side from Potter, who hissed, "Shut-up, Sirius. Stop being so dramatic."
"I'm being dramatic? Our professor is trying to split us up, and you're calling me dramatic?! It's the END OF MY LIFE."
"You know what will be the end of your life? In a few moments, when I KICK YOU IN THE FACE!"
"JAMES! MY HEART! You've ripped it out! I've never been so hurt. Betrayed!"
"SHUT UP, SIRIUS." Potter lunged for Black, who, laughing, dodged to the right. Before Flitwick could figure out who did what next, both boys were in a tangle on the floor, laughing and punching blindly.
Between an ow, sod off, Sirius, that actually hurt! and a oi, James, you've gotten quite fit, do you work out?, Flitwick managed to call Minerva into the room.
She walked in briskly, stopping in the middle of asking what the problem was when she spotted the boys rolling about on the floor.
"SIRIUS BLACK. JAMES POTTER."
It was miraculous, Flitwick was sure of it, how quickly the two jumped apart when Minerva snapped at them.
"You!" she bellowed, impressively, pointing her finger at Black, "come with me. And you..." she pointed in the direction of Potter, "get back to your room. You will attend the separate detentions that Flitwick has assigned to you." James picked himself up off the floor, and dusted his robes clean. Sirius did the same, grinning.
"Jamessss," Sirius bellowed, as Potter made his way to the door to follow Minerva's directions, "oh how I will miss you!"
Potter rolled his eyes and scrambled out of the room before he even got the chance to see Black mouth something that looked like it might have been our love can not be destroyed by mere distance.
**********
3. "You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark, there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored- asked me if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword."- Cornelius Fudge
It was the absolute-without-a-doubt worst part of his job, Azkaban inspection. When he'd run for minister, all he could think about was the importance of the position, the prestige, the fame... not the dirty work.
And dirty work it was, walking slowly through the prison while cell after cell of criminals who were out-of-their minds gummed and moaned at him. It wasn't pleasant, and as Fudge made his way down the corridors, a clipboard in one hand and a newspaper under the other arm, he really, really wanted to go home.
Fudge made his way past a woman who sat in a corner, hugging herself and rocking back and forth. He marked a check on his clipboard and kept going. To his right, something that looked like it once might have been a man. To his left, a man who might have been mostly dead. None of it mattered; they were all nothing more to him than check-marks on paper and an unpleasant waste of a day.
As he rounded a corner and stopped at the first cell, he bent over to inspect a woman who had recently pulled out her hair in great clumps and used it to build some sort of circle around her. It was, Fudge assumed, as he noted the way the hairs were all laid out end-to-tip, some sort of attempt at a protection spell.
"Completely nutters, that one." said a voice from behind him, causing Fudge to jump up. His clipboard clattered to the floor. He hadn't heard another voice in about an hour, since he'd left the check-in at the guard's station. Just prisoners, none of which could form any semblance of language, and dementors, floating menacingly past.
Spinning around, Fudge's eyes widened when he saw that the voice belonged to a man. A prisoner.
He had long, mangy black hair that covered his face, and he was thin. There were very few people locked in Azkaban that Cornelius Fudge bothered to remember the names of. This was one of them. Sirius Black.
"I mean," Black continued, pushing up from the floor and standing in the middle of his cell, "they're all mad, I suppose. But she was bloody bonkers, even before the Dementors started on her. I didn't even get a full day or two of conversation."
Fudge took a step back from Black's cell. Back towards the crazy hair lady, which really wasn't much better, but considering the fact that Black was still walking and talking and forming words... well, let's just say that he had to have some unforeseeable magic working for him.
"You're..." Fudge didn't think it was either appropriate or professional to stammer, but there was nobody around to hear it. "You-y-you're..."
"I'm not quite sure what you're trying to say," Black shrugged, "But I haven't had a decent person to talk to in quite a while, so I'll take what I can get."
He was talking to him, like someone who he'd just past on the streets. Sirius Black, murderer, death eater, right-hand-wizard to the Dark Lord...
"How are things in the Ministry these day? Magic-y? Ministry-like?"
"W-w-why, yes, I suppose they..."
"Do they still have tea biscuits?"
Fudge stared. "Why on earth wouldn't they still have..."
"I adored tea biscuits," Sirius Black leaned dreamily against the bars of his cell, "James' mum..." his eyes went dark for a moment, before he continued. "Someone I knew used to make the best ones, with icing and everything and they were heavenly..."
Fudge nodded. He very much liked tea biscuits.
But, no, wait. What was he doing, standing in the middle of Azkaban prison, having a nice chat with Sirius Bloody Black? Hardening his features, he glanced down at the clipboard, and then back up at Black, who was watching him with an amused little smile. He marked a large, red check beside his name and stepped forward to continue along.
He had just turned to make his way to the end of the hallway, when Sirius spoke up again. "Minister..." it was soft, less cocky than before. "James' boy... Harry... is he alright?"
Fudge studied Black's face; it must have been youthful once, the smile that was now forced must once have been genuine. He didn't know why he did it, but he found himself slowly nodding.
"Wait!" Black yelled, sounding frightened, panicked.
He didn't know why he did it, but he stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
"Do you think I could have that paper? I mean, if you're finished with it and all..."
If it would get him out of this prison faster? Sirius Black could have his paper.
"Brilliant, cheers!" Sirius Black winked at him more cheerily than any prisoner had a right to, when Fudge nervously slipped the newspaper through the bars into his eager hands. His floppy, overgrown hair fell into his eyes, and the criminal flipped it off his face in what looked like a practiced move. "I miss doing the crosswords."
**********
4. "'Unless...' Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see- 'unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?'
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded."
The door to the apartment banged open, and slammed shut, and it was only moments before Remus saw Sirius enter the living room, and collapse onto the couch. He looked tired, more tired than he'd ever looked, but that was normal these days, in these times.
"Sirius..." Remus's voice was tentative, small. "Did everything go well?"
Sirius groaned, closed his eyes and let his head fall onto the back of the couch. "I suppose so, if you want to call standing around and waiting for the most boring and complicated spell in the history of spells to be performed a successful night."
Remus sighed, setting his book down on the table and hoisting himself from his chair. "You know that James will be safe, now." he said quietly, "I'd call that successful, wouldn't you?"
Sirius slowly opened an eye, as Remus dropped onto the sofa beside him.
"I can..." Remus continued, breathing heavily, "It makes me feel extremely relieved to know that it's you. To know that the secret is safe, and that nobody can ever hurt James. Or Lily and Harry..."
Sirius looked at him, for a long while, and Remus thought that maybe he was having second thoughts. He hadn't so much agreed to be James' secret keeper, as swore vehemently that there could be nobody else, and he was right. So perhaps, now, on second thought, Sirius was worried about himself.
Then suddenly, as if deciding to himself that it wasn't fun to dwell, Sirius smiled and stood up. "Oh, well. What's done is done. James is safe..."
Remus thought he saw a flash of something in Sirius' eyes.
"What's done is done." Sirius said it softly, the second time, as if trying to convince himself. "What are we doing for supper, around here, Moony? I'm starved."
Harry Potter GEN
So I've been... yeah, I work at a library, so I was digging through Prisoner of Azkaban trying to find things about Peter Pettigrew for... well, nevermind. I found other things instead, and had to say a few things about 'em.
In other words, I wrote HP gen. Crazzzzzy, I know.
1. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd have told me what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."- Rosmerta
"Not to worry, James old buddy..." Sirius winked devilishly as they they trudged down the streets towards The Three Broomsticks. "I'll handle Rosmerta." James almost groaned. This was not going to go well; past experience had taught him that. But for some reason, Sirius loved to try. And who was James to stop him?
Sirius stepped up onto the steps of the pub, and threw the door open wide. The few customers (really, though, there weren't many; it was the middle of the day) looked up from their tables, rolled their eyes at the two boys who stood grinning at the door, and promptly went back to their drinks.
"Sirius Black and James Potter, you get out of my pub right now." The shrill, if not amused, sound of Madame Rosmerta's voice came floating over the bar, and Sirius turned to face her. "If Dumbledore has my head for this, I'm going to have yours! The both of ya!"
"Rosmerta, darling, the very sound of your voice is music to my ears." Sirius drawled, stepping up to the bar and leaning over it, so that his hair fell casually into his eyes. James hated it when he did that; it made the girls go all a-flutter in the sorts of ways that James' short, unruly mop never could. Good Slytherin breeding, Sirius always called it.
Madame Rosmerta smiled slightly, just like she always did, and James almost laughed out loud. "I mean it, now, Black. Get out, before I get McGonagall in here."
"Ah," Sirius grinned, perching atop a bar stool, "but you wouldn't give me up. You're much too kind, too lovely, too wonderful..."
"You sit there a moment longer, and you'll see just how wonderful I can be..." but she was blushing now, and James never could figure out how Sirius always managed to wrap them around his finger so easily.
Madame Rosmerta was the subject of whispers, taunts, and awe among the boys of Hogwarts. It was sometime during their third year, James recalled, that Sirius, as cocky as ever and bragging about his manly charms, had been dared to approach the good-looking barmaid. While most of the kids who ever dared to do this had gotten smacks upside the head and had been reported to the Headmaster, Rosmerta has simply laughed at Sirius and told him to run along before he hurt himself.
Now, they were in their sixth year, and Sirius had picked up a thing or two. He leaned over the bar, grinning cockily, putting his face as close to Rosmerta's ear as he could possibly do without either falling over the bar or getting slapped. "Come on, love. Just one for the road. We're dying, here."
It was, James feared, touch and go for a moment, but finally, looking slightly flustered and jerking quickly as far away from Sirius as she could, Rosmerta filled two mugs with mead and slammed them down in front of them. "I swear to Merlin, Sirius Black." her voice was firm, but kindly, as she went back to wiping glasses, "if Dumbledore finds out about this..."
"It'll be our little secret." Sirius winked at her, before picking up his mug and holding it in a triumphant sort of toast. James shook his head in disbelief, but took his seat beside Sirius.
**********
2. "You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers." Chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable."
"Oh-ho! I can see you there, SIRIUSBLACKANDJAMESPOTTER!" They weren't going to get away with it this time, of that Flitwick was sure. It was quite a feat, among the staff at Hogwarts, to catch the two most notorious pranksters.
"Detention! Potter, you meet me tonight in the Charms classroom. Sirius, you'll do yours with Professor Diggins in the greenhouse."
"Professor," Black moaned, looking quite put-upon, "If you take me away from James, I will kill myself."
He was rewarded with an elbow in the side from Potter, who hissed, "Shut-up, Sirius. Stop being so dramatic."
"I'm being dramatic? Our professor is trying to split us up, and you're calling me dramatic?! It's the END OF MY LIFE."
"You know what will be the end of your life? In a few moments, when I KICK YOU IN THE FACE!"
"JAMES! MY HEART! You've ripped it out! I've never been so hurt. Betrayed!"
"SHUT UP, SIRIUS." Potter lunged for Black, who, laughing, dodged to the right. Before Flitwick could figure out who did what next, both boys were in a tangle on the floor, laughing and punching blindly.
Between an ow, sod off, Sirius, that actually hurt! and a oi, James, you've gotten quite fit, do you work out?, Flitwick managed to call Minerva into the room.
She walked in briskly, stopping in the middle of asking what the problem was when she spotted the boys rolling about on the floor.
"SIRIUS BLACK. JAMES POTTER."
It was miraculous, Flitwick was sure of it, how quickly the two jumped apart when Minerva snapped at them.
"You!" she bellowed, impressively, pointing her finger at Black, "come with me. And you..." she pointed in the direction of Potter, "get back to your room. You will attend the separate detentions that Flitwick has assigned to you." James picked himself up off the floor, and dusted his robes clean. Sirius did the same, grinning.
"Jamessss," Sirius bellowed, as Potter made his way to the door to follow Minerva's directions, "oh how I will miss you!"
Potter rolled his eyes and scrambled out of the room before he even got the chance to see Black mouth something that looked like it might have been our love can not be destroyed by mere distance.
**********
3. "You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark, there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored- asked me if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword."- Cornelius Fudge
It was the absolute-without-a-doubt worst part of his job, Azkaban inspection. When he'd run for minister, all he could think about was the importance of the position, the prestige, the fame... not the dirty work.
And dirty work it was, walking slowly through the prison while cell after cell of criminals who were out-of-their minds gummed and moaned at him. It wasn't pleasant, and as Fudge made his way down the corridors, a clipboard in one hand and a newspaper under the other arm, he really, really wanted to go home.
Fudge made his way past a woman who sat in a corner, hugging herself and rocking back and forth. He marked a check on his clipboard and kept going. To his right, something that looked like it once might have been a man. To his left, a man who might have been mostly dead. None of it mattered; they were all nothing more to him than check-marks on paper and an unpleasant waste of a day.
As he rounded a corner and stopped at the first cell, he bent over to inspect a woman who had recently pulled out her hair in great clumps and used it to build some sort of circle around her. It was, Fudge assumed, as he noted the way the hairs were all laid out end-to-tip, some sort of attempt at a protection spell.
"Completely nutters, that one." said a voice from behind him, causing Fudge to jump up. His clipboard clattered to the floor. He hadn't heard another voice in about an hour, since he'd left the check-in at the guard's station. Just prisoners, none of which could form any semblance of language, and dementors, floating menacingly past.
Spinning around, Fudge's eyes widened when he saw that the voice belonged to a man. A prisoner.
He had long, mangy black hair that covered his face, and he was thin. There were very few people locked in Azkaban that Cornelius Fudge bothered to remember the names of. This was one of them. Sirius Black.
"I mean," Black continued, pushing up from the floor and standing in the middle of his cell, "they're all mad, I suppose. But she was bloody bonkers, even before the Dementors started on her. I didn't even get a full day or two of conversation."
Fudge took a step back from Black's cell. Back towards the crazy hair lady, which really wasn't much better, but considering the fact that Black was still walking and talking and forming words... well, let's just say that he had to have some unforeseeable magic working for him.
"You're..." Fudge didn't think it was either appropriate or professional to stammer, but there was nobody around to hear it. "You-y-you're..."
"I'm not quite sure what you're trying to say," Black shrugged, "But I haven't had a decent person to talk to in quite a while, so I'll take what I can get."
He was talking to him, like someone who he'd just past on the streets. Sirius Black, murderer, death eater, right-hand-wizard to the Dark Lord...
"How are things in the Ministry these day? Magic-y? Ministry-like?"
"W-w-why, yes, I suppose they..."
"Do they still have tea biscuits?"
Fudge stared. "Why on earth wouldn't they still have..."
"I adored tea biscuits," Sirius Black leaned dreamily against the bars of his cell, "James' mum..." his eyes went dark for a moment, before he continued. "Someone I knew used to make the best ones, with icing and everything and they were heavenly..."
Fudge nodded. He very much liked tea biscuits.
But, no, wait. What was he doing, standing in the middle of Azkaban prison, having a nice chat with Sirius Bloody Black? Hardening his features, he glanced down at the clipboard, and then back up at Black, who was watching him with an amused little smile. He marked a large, red check beside his name and stepped forward to continue along.
He had just turned to make his way to the end of the hallway, when Sirius spoke up again. "Minister..." it was soft, less cocky than before. "James' boy... Harry... is he alright?"
Fudge studied Black's face; it must have been youthful once, the smile that was now forced must once have been genuine. He didn't know why he did it, but he found himself slowly nodding.
"Wait!" Black yelled, sounding frightened, panicked.
He didn't know why he did it, but he stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
"Do you think I could have that paper? I mean, if you're finished with it and all..."
If it would get him out of this prison faster? Sirius Black could have his paper.
"Brilliant, cheers!" Sirius Black winked at him more cheerily than any prisoner had a right to, when Fudge nervously slipped the newspaper through the bars into his eager hands. His floppy, overgrown hair fell into his eyes, and the criminal flipped it off his face in what looked like a practiced move. "I miss doing the crosswords."
**********
4. "'Unless...' Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see- 'unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?'
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded."
The door to the apartment banged open, and slammed shut, and it was only moments before Remus saw Sirius enter the living room, and collapse onto the couch. He looked tired, more tired than he'd ever looked, but that was normal these days, in these times.
"Sirius..." Remus's voice was tentative, small. "Did everything go well?"
Sirius groaned, closed his eyes and let his head fall onto the back of the couch. "I suppose so, if you want to call standing around and waiting for the most boring and complicated spell in the history of spells to be performed a successful night."
Remus sighed, setting his book down on the table and hoisting himself from his chair. "You know that James will be safe, now." he said quietly, "I'd call that successful, wouldn't you?"
Sirius slowly opened an eye, as Remus dropped onto the sofa beside him.
"I can..." Remus continued, breathing heavily, "It makes me feel extremely relieved to know that it's you. To know that the secret is safe, and that nobody can ever hurt James. Or Lily and Harry..."
Sirius looked at him, for a long while, and Remus thought that maybe he was having second thoughts. He hadn't so much agreed to be James' secret keeper, as swore vehemently that there could be nobody else, and he was right. So perhaps, now, on second thought, Sirius was worried about himself.
Then suddenly, as if deciding to himself that it wasn't fun to dwell, Sirius smiled and stood up. "Oh, well. What's done is done. James is safe..."
Remus thought he saw a flash of something in Sirius' eyes.
"What's done is done." Sirius said it softly, the second time, as if trying to convince himself. "What are we doing for supper, around here, Moony? I'm starved."