The Boy Who Killed God {Sirius Black | Marauders Era Fanfiction}

Fools and Knaves

FEBRUARY 1, 1972

After the previous week—the declarations of war, the battles fought, whether lost or won—normal seemed a foreign, unattainable thing, not suited for anyone left at Hogwarts. But, despite the magic and the ghosts and the cataclysmic ransoms placed upon both gods and kings, normal was what Hogwarts did best.

Normal, as the world inside and out erupted into chaos.

On Tuesday, the King of Gryffindor and her Marauders—minus the one who'd been torn apart by an unknown monster—went to Care of Magical Creatures.

Like normal.

Unlike normal, Professor Cuckoo led the class into a dusty, abandoned classroom that had, by generous estimates, last been used in 1797. There'd been a snowstorm the night before that had left nearly a foot of snow on the ground and drifts that towered well-over the heads of most first years.

With Hickory Dave munching on what could only be described as mustard-and-chocolate covered bean mush, Professor Cuckoo took his time surveying his class. At the back of the room, Sirius Black mirrored his pose: arms crossed, scowl on his face, fingers itching to draw a wand that only reaped destruction. Instead of a wand, Professor Cuckoo produced a copy of yesterday's Prophet.

Sirius Black bared his teeth.

By the end of what constituted as class but was, in reality, more of an hour-long shouting match between a seasoned professor and a twelve-year-old student, Sirius was probably lucky to walk away with only one night of detention.

He missed his first lesson with McGonagall, but Merlin, it was worth it to see the fury in Cuckoo's eyes at the mere notion that a pureblood scion would side against him.

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FEBRUARY 2, 1972

On Wednesday, Sirius found Lily in the library in between classes. James and Peter were off watching Quidditch practice or hexing Slytherins or something. Sirius hadn't really been listening.

"I haven't heard from Remus, Black." Lily didn't look up from her book as Sirius sat down across from her. "So don't ask."

Sirius hadn't heard from Remus either, but that wasn't what he was going to ask. "How's Snivellus?"

Lily didn't so much as flinch at the nickname. "We're not speaking."

And, honestly, Sirius hadn't been expecting that at all. Secretly hoping, yes, obviously, but never did he think Lily would stop speaking to Snape entirely.

"I don't want to hear I told you so's, Black," she said, her voice cold. Sirius held up his hands. That hadn't been what he was going to say in the least. "I get that you might have been right about... certain things, but he's still my friend. I just kind of want to punch him at the moment."

"Trust me, it's worth it. Immensely satisfying," Sirius muttered. Lily shot him a death glare, so he coughed up a semblance of an apology.

Accepting it with a roll of her eyes, Lily forced her attention back on her book. "Well, if that's all, I'll see you in Charms later. Have a nice—"

"Evans—"

She huffed, but wouldn't look at him. "Fine. I talked to Madam Pomfrey yesterday. She can't do anything about Malfoy's curse, naturally, but she insisted I check in. That's still going strong, by the way, which is fucking inconvenient. Anyways, she said Remus will be out by the end of the week. It's just with the extent of his injuries—"

Sirius's heart lurched, but he forced himself to swallow his panic. Remus was safe, for now. "That's great, Evans. Thank you. But I—"

"So, that's all, really. I don't know why you're bothering me. Why don't you go off with Potter and Pettigrew and—"