Sirius didn’t show up for dinner. Emmeline wandered over and asked James where he was, but James just shrugged,
“Sorry,” he said, “We were on a mission earlier, but I lost track of him. Hope Filch never caught him…”
“And why would Filch be looking for Sirius?” Lily asked, setting down her knife and for and giving James a very direct look.
“Er… I’m sure I don’t know.” James said quickly, staring at his mashed potato as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Twenty minutes later, the prefects were summoned to an emergency meeting to discuss a problem on the fifth floor - all of the suits of armour had apparently begun singing opera.
All of the students were ordered to their common rooms for the rest of the evening, and when Peter, Remus, Marlene and Mary reached the tower, they found Sirius there, sitting in front of the fireplace, smoking. Where did he get the fags? Remus wondered. He usually asks me. Sirius Black was not the type to buy his own cigarettes; he was a professional borrower.
“Alright, Black?” Mary asked, cheerfully.
“Yeah fine.” Sirius grunted, still staring at the fire.
“Weren’t hungry?” She asked.
“Nope.” He inhaled and puffed out, like a restless dragon.
“Ah,” Mary raised knowing eyebrow, and looked at the others, “In one of your moods, I see.”
He did not respond to this. Remus often forgot how well Mary knew Sirius. He admired the breezy, no-nonsense way she dealt with him; his own instinct was often to coddle and give in. He ought to take a leaf out of Mary’s book, he thought.
When Christopher returned from the prefect’s meeting, Remus stuck to him like glue for as long as possible. Partly because he knew he had hurt him, and he wanted to show him that nothing had changed. Partly because he knew that Sirius wouldn’t come anywhere near them while they were together. They sat on the window seat at the back of the room, furthest from the fireplace. It was the same place Sirius had sat with Remus only a few months ago, where they’d argued, then made up. But he wasn’t thinking about it. He was listening to Christopher’s rundown of the prefect’s briefing,
“...and everybody knows Potter probably had something to do with it, but obviously there’s no proof because he’s basically a professional vandal, and everyone loves him, so he gets away with it. Even Lily Evans has given up, she never takes him to task like she used to.”
“Oh, really?” Remus feigned interest, watching the back of Sirius’s armchair.
“Yeah,” Christopher nodded, “She’s gone soft on him. I even asked her what she thought should be done to punish the pranksters, and she actually giggled! She said it was actually quite funny, and as it hadn’t hurt anyone that I should lighten up! I used to really look up to her, you know.”
“Maybe you should lighten up,” Remus sighed, “It does sound like it was funny. God knows we could all do with a laugh.”
“Prefects are supposed to uphold all of the rules,” Christopher replied, an echo of McGonagall in his voice, “Not just the boring ones. Anyway, if that’s how you feel, I don’t know why I bother.”
He started to get up,
“Chris,” Remus looked up at him, “C’mon, don’t be like that. I’ll quiz you on Runes if you like.”
“I don’t feel like it.” Christopher replied, snippily, “I’m going to bed.” He walked off, towards the dorms. Remus sighed again, and rubbed his eyes. He’d give it a few minutes then go up himself. It had been a trying sort of day.
