Prologue: Overheard
Series title: Runaway: A Story About Sirius Black and Remus Lupin
Series summary: During the sweltering summer of 1976, Sirius Black leaves one family, joins another, and falls in love.
Series authors: The Runaway Writers
Installment title: Prologue: Overheard
Installment author: magnetic_pole
Word count: 1000
"Runaway" is a month-long serial written for dogdaysofsummer by closet_zebra, expositionary, last_radio, magnetic_pole, plumerri, and sazzlette.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Epilogue
Summer 1995
Molly Weasley didn't eavesdrop. Not on Harry, not on her children, and certainly not in other people's houses.
Not in Sirius Black's house, to be more specific. Even if he had been so kind as to lend it to the Order for headquarters. Dumbledore had encouraged him to offer the place, though; Molly was quite sure. Black had not been especially welcoming.
She had a strong sense of propriety, and she knew full well that private conversations were private. Even if they occurred between an unstable ex-convict and her children, as they were right now in the drawing room at 12, Grimmauld Place.
Hmph.
Molly had brought lunch up from the kitchen, balanced with her wand, but just as she reached the drawing room door, she heard Sirius voice, loud and scornful.
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!"
Now, truth be told, Molly was fairly certain that Sirius was talking to Kreacher, and Molly herself had entertained thoughts about murdering Kreacher once or twice recently. But that was not the kind of language she wanted to hear used in front of her children. Sirius Black was a bad influence, he was.
Silently, carefully, she leaned towards the drawing room door, which stood slightly ajar. At first Sirius and Hermione were talking quietly, and then there was a long pause.
Molly straightened up and prepared to open the door to the room, when she heard Harry's voice.
"You're not on here!" Harry said.
That blasted tapestry. Molly had looked at it herself.
"I used to be there," Sirius replied, his voice faint through the heavy wooden door. Molly leaned closer, listening carefully.
"My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home. Kreacher's quite fond of muttering that story under his breath."
"You ran away from home?"
"When I was about sixteen. I'd had enough."
"Where did you go?"
"Your dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it..."
So that's what had happened. Molly pursed her lips. She had always wondered about that; Sirius Black was almost as famous for his rejection of the Black family as he was for murdering thirteen people with a single curse.
Which apparently he hadn't done, after all.
At least that's what Dumbledore said. Molly wouldn't put it past him, though. Those wild eyes, that temper. Very softly, Molly clicked her tongue and turned her attention back to the drawing room conversation.
"...because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal...my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them..."
Suddenly there was a noise behind her, soft but firm, like a footstep. Molly started and looked around. The shadows at Grimmauld Place were deep, but she thought she saw a darker shadow move past her, farther down the hallway. Then she blinked, and the shadow was gone.
She continued to look around carefully, a little on edge. This house could do that to you. Even in August it was cold and damp. Her nerves were rattled. She took a deep breath.
"...from what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."
Hmph. Molly could just imagine the wide eyes and anxious faces.
If there was one thing that Molly Weasley knew, it was that neither Harry nor his friends needed to hear about death right now. They needed love and support and regular meals, not any more information about the gruesome history of Sirius' crazy family or any talk about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
"Lunch!" she called loudly, opening the door to the room with her shoulder and carrying in her trays.
Ron, bless him, perked up immediately and came to investigate the meal. Hermione and the others followed shortly, but Harry seemed reluctant to join them.
Sirius turned towards her with a knowing smirk. Molly looked back, unrepentant. So what if Sirius Black knew what she was trying to do. She was thinking about the children. Lunch was important at this age.
Molly glared at him fiercely in a way that she hoped said "let the boy eat something," but Sirius and Harry had already moved closer together, talking about the tapestry in low voices.
Molly looked at Harry's back for a moment, then at Sirius'.
Damn that Sirius Black, Molly thought. He never knew when to stop.
*
She found Remus later that evening, sitting by the fire in an old pullover, reading glasses on, the day's newspaper in his lap. It was almost as if he were waiting for her.
Molly smiled at him warmly, and Remus smiled back. Unlike Sirius, Remus Lupin understood the small niceties of life. After all, it wasn't so hard to smile every once in a while, she thought.
Then Remus spoke, his voice deep and gentle. "You'll get to know him, Molly," he said quietly. "He's not as frightening as he seems."
Molly felt a little flustered and taken aback. Remus always seemed to know what she was thinking.
"I suppose," she said cautiously.
Remus folded his newspaper and placed it on the floor next to him, gesturing for Molly to join him by the fire. Molly sat down in the armchair nearest to him.
"In fact," Remus said, "he used to be quite sweet."
Molly snorted. Remus smiled. It seemed as if he were waiting for something.
"Remus? Could I ask you something?" Molly hesitated.
Remus nodded slowly.
"Why did Sirius run away? When he was young, I mean? What happened with his parents?" Molly gestured in the general direction of the portrait in the hallway.
"It's a long story, Molly," Remus said. "And complicated. You remember what the seventies were like."
Molly nodded. She did. "You knew him quite well, even then," she said, still hesitant.
Remus smiled. "I did."
There was something sly about that smile, and Molly thought she knew what it was, but she nodded innocently, encouraging him to go on.
Remus stretched out his hands towards the fire, flexing his long fingers, then folding his hands over his knees. "Like I said, it's a long story. But an interesting one, I think. I've heard it several times over the years."
Curious despite herself, Molly leaned towards him.
Remus took a deep breath, as if thinking about what to tell her, and then began to speak.
*Note: All italicized passages taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, US edition, pp. 110-112.
Chapter One: Beginnings and Ends
Series summary: During the sweltering summer of 1976, Sirius Black leaves one family, joins another, and falls in love.
Series authors: The Runaway Writers
Installment title: Prologue: Overheard
Installment author: magnetic_pole
Word count: 1000
"Runaway" is a month-long serial written for dogdaysofsummer by closet_zebra, expositionary, last_radio, magnetic_pole, plumerri, and sazzlette.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Epilogue
Summer 1995
Molly Weasley didn't eavesdrop. Not on Harry, not on her children, and certainly not in other people's houses.
Not in Sirius Black's house, to be more specific. Even if he had been so kind as to lend it to the Order for headquarters. Dumbledore had encouraged him to offer the place, though; Molly was quite sure. Black had not been especially welcoming.
She had a strong sense of propriety, and she knew full well that private conversations were private. Even if they occurred between an unstable ex-convict and her children, as they were right now in the drawing room at 12, Grimmauld Place.
Hmph.
Molly had brought lunch up from the kitchen, balanced with her wand, but just as she reached the drawing room door, she heard Sirius voice, loud and scornful.
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!"
Now, truth be told, Molly was fairly certain that Sirius was talking to Kreacher, and Molly herself had entertained thoughts about murdering Kreacher once or twice recently. But that was not the kind of language she wanted to hear used in front of her children. Sirius Black was a bad influence, he was.
Silently, carefully, she leaned towards the drawing room door, which stood slightly ajar. At first Sirius and Hermione were talking quietly, and then there was a long pause.
Molly straightened up and prepared to open the door to the room, when she heard Harry's voice.
"You're not on here!" Harry said.
That blasted tapestry. Molly had looked at it herself.
"I used to be there," Sirius replied, his voice faint through the heavy wooden door. Molly leaned closer, listening carefully.
"My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home. Kreacher's quite fond of muttering that story under his breath."
"You ran away from home?"
"When I was about sixteen. I'd had enough."
"Where did you go?"
"Your dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it..."
So that's what had happened. Molly pursed her lips. She had always wondered about that; Sirius Black was almost as famous for his rejection of the Black family as he was for murdering thirteen people with a single curse.
Which apparently he hadn't done, after all.
At least that's what Dumbledore said. Molly wouldn't put it past him, though. Those wild eyes, that temper. Very softly, Molly clicked her tongue and turned her attention back to the drawing room conversation.
"...because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal...my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them..."
Suddenly there was a noise behind her, soft but firm, like a footstep. Molly started and looked around. The shadows at Grimmauld Place were deep, but she thought she saw a darker shadow move past her, farther down the hallway. Then she blinked, and the shadow was gone.
She continued to look around carefully, a little on edge. This house could do that to you. Even in August it was cold and damp. Her nerves were rattled. She took a deep breath.
"...from what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."
Hmph. Molly could just imagine the wide eyes and anxious faces.
If there was one thing that Molly Weasley knew, it was that neither Harry nor his friends needed to hear about death right now. They needed love and support and regular meals, not any more information about the gruesome history of Sirius' crazy family or any talk about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
"Lunch!" she called loudly, opening the door to the room with her shoulder and carrying in her trays.
Ron, bless him, perked up immediately and came to investigate the meal. Hermione and the others followed shortly, but Harry seemed reluctant to join them.
Sirius turned towards her with a knowing smirk. Molly looked back, unrepentant. So what if Sirius Black knew what she was trying to do. She was thinking about the children. Lunch was important at this age.
Molly glared at him fiercely in a way that she hoped said "let the boy eat something," but Sirius and Harry had already moved closer together, talking about the tapestry in low voices.
Molly looked at Harry's back for a moment, then at Sirius'.
Damn that Sirius Black, Molly thought. He never knew when to stop.
*
She found Remus later that evening, sitting by the fire in an old pullover, reading glasses on, the day's newspaper in his lap. It was almost as if he were waiting for her.
Molly smiled at him warmly, and Remus smiled back. Unlike Sirius, Remus Lupin understood the small niceties of life. After all, it wasn't so hard to smile every once in a while, she thought.
Then Remus spoke, his voice deep and gentle. "You'll get to know him, Molly," he said quietly. "He's not as frightening as he seems."
Molly felt a little flustered and taken aback. Remus always seemed to know what she was thinking.
"I suppose," she said cautiously.
Remus folded his newspaper and placed it on the floor next to him, gesturing for Molly to join him by the fire. Molly sat down in the armchair nearest to him.
"In fact," Remus said, "he used to be quite sweet."
Molly snorted. Remus smiled. It seemed as if he were waiting for something.
"Remus? Could I ask you something?" Molly hesitated.
Remus nodded slowly.
"Why did Sirius run away? When he was young, I mean? What happened with his parents?" Molly gestured in the general direction of the portrait in the hallway.
"It's a long story, Molly," Remus said. "And complicated. You remember what the seventies were like."
Molly nodded. She did. "You knew him quite well, even then," she said, still hesitant.
Remus smiled. "I did."
There was something sly about that smile, and Molly thought she knew what it was, but she nodded innocently, encouraging him to go on.
Remus stretched out his hands towards the fire, flexing his long fingers, then folding his hands over his knees. "Like I said, it's a long story. But an interesting one, I think. I've heard it several times over the years."
Curious despite herself, Molly leaned towards him.
Remus took a deep breath, as if thinking about what to tell her, and then began to speak.
*Note: All italicized passages taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, US edition, pp. 110-112.
Chapter One: Beginnings and Ends