Friday 3rd November 1972
Sirius’s thirteenth birthday did not fall on the full moon, as his twelfth had. He never told the others about the talking to he’d got from Remus – not as far as Remus could tell, anyway – but he did act slightly differently towards his friends. Whereas before he had sometimes treated Remus as a bit of a pet project; amazed whenever Lupin exhibited independent thought; Sirius at least appeared to develop some sensitivity towards the two secondary marauders.
The subject of quidditch was still a sore one, and so on the morning of his second Hogwarts birthday James had enough tact not to suggest a lunchtime flying session.
Breakfast began with a round of ‘happy birthday’ at the very tops of their voices, as had become tradition for the marauders by now. The Potters sent Sirius a huge basket of chocolates, while James had ordered half of Zonko’s catalogue as a birthday present. Remus was a bit embarrassed to hand over his own gifts – some old copies of Melody Maker and NME that he’d pinched over the summer – but Sirius was thrilled; one of them had an interview with Marc Bolan. They spent most of breakfast turning the pages; the three pure-blood wizards laughing at the static muggle photographs.
Remus kept sneaking looks at Sirius, wondering if he looked any different now he was a teenager. Remus had wanted to be thirteen for ages; it seemed to him a very mature, grand sort of age. He knew it was silly to think you could become imbued with some kind of new wisdom overnight, but it was certainly an important milestone, whichever way you looked at it. Sirius was definitely holding himself in a slightly different way; Remus was sure.
Unfortunately, the carefree morning ended there. As they finished their meal and were preparing to get up for their first lesson (History of Magic) their passage out of the hall was blocked.
“Sirius.” A stern voice said.
Narcissa Black stood before them. At fifteen she was taller than all four marauders. She was a fairly attractive girl, Remus thought; if a little pinched about the face. She didn’t have her elder sister’s mad look, and had dyed and straightened her long hair so that it hung in a gorgeous platinum sheet, which shimmered when it caught the light.
She stood before them with her arms crossed, Regulus skulking at her side.
“Cissy.” Sirius nodded in greeting. She flinched, but didn’t chastise him.
“It’s your birthday.” She said.
“Well, I was aware.”
She rolled her eyes. It seemed she didn’t have her sister’s temper, either, which Remus was glad for.
“You’re to eat with us this evening.”
“Come and sit at the Gryffindor table if you absolutely have to.”
“No.” She narrowed her grey eyes, “Your mother has given strict instructions. We’ll eat privately, in the Slytherin common room, like last year.”
“No!” Sirius lost his newfound maturity and suddenly seemed very much a child, practically stamping his foot, “I want to eat with my friends.”
“You can eat with them any time you want.” Narcissa snapped, her hands on her hips now. “Birthdays are family occasions.”
Regulus looked at his feet, still standing just behind his cousin. Sirius was still annoyed, but finally nodded his assent. James placed a hand on his shoulder; a harmless gesture, but Regulus looked up and stared intently, as if they were doing something foul.
Once a time had been set for dinner, the two Slytherin Blacks left, and the marauders stared after them. James looked at Sirius,
“Bad luck,” he commiserated, “Want to bunk off lessons?”
