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

The Executioner's Song

MAY 29, 1972

Sirius showed up at dinner the night after the first day of exams. It was the first meal he'd bothered showing up to in nearly three days. Rather than accepting the tongue-lashing and dressing-down he probably deserved, Sirius had been subsisting on bribing the house elves and breaking into Peter's secret stash of food when the other Marauders weren't in the dorms.

Which was most of the time.

They were avoiding him.

But, it could only last so long. Sirius had been starving and exhausted after the gruelling Arithmancy exam that afternoon, so he'd followed Fabian into the Great Hall, nearly attaching himself to his hip. Fabian hadn't seemed particularly bothered. He'd simply ushered Sirius to the far end of the Gryffindor table—opposite of that occupied by the Marauders—and offered him a seat in between him and his brother.

Frank and Alice were seated across from them, disgustingly smitten with each other, still riding high on the final Quidditch victory. As he piled food onto his plate, Sirius kept sneaking glances at Frank, then back at Fabian. Fabian, whose own gaze never strayed far from the prefect, and seemed to caress his every feature, every flaw, and lap up any thread of conversation Frank threw his direction. And Frank, who...

Who only had eyes for Alice.

Sirius's heart ached for Fabian.

A nudge. A conch shell clattered onto Sirius's empty plate.

Sirius turned to Gideon.

Gideon, whose eyes were sad and haunted.

"Worry about your own damn heart, Black," Gideon whispered, gesturing to the shell.

Sirius's nose scrunched in confusion. "What is it?"

"Call it an echo chamber," Gideon said, in lieu of a real answer. He leaned forward just a bit, and Sirius followed Gideon's gaze to the other end of the table.

In the middle of the table, between the Marauders and Lily, was an identical shell disguised as a centrepiece. At Gideon's pointed look, Sirius picked up the shell on his plate and held it to his ear.

Peter's voice rang through, loud and clear, as though Sirius were sitting right next to him. "So. When are we going to forgive him?"

Sirius tried to swallow around the lump in his throat and dared to glance down the length of the table to watch the scene play out.

"Say it louder, Pete. I don't think they heard you in Hogsmeade," James said, cuffing Peter on the back of his head. Then, a half-frown, directed at their king. "We are going to forgive him, right?"

Lily barely looked up from her treacle tart. "If Remus does."

"Can I forgive him?" Peter asked.

"Not yet," Lily replied.

"But... Remus isn't back yet and I need to pass the Transfiguration exam tomorrow."

"Oi! I'm great at Transfiguration," James said, his voice pitching up an octave.

"Yeah, but you never study."

"Because I don't need to!" James insisted. "And you really think Sirius studies?"

Sirius didn't, but he usually helped Peter study. It gave him extra practice with his resuscitated wand.

And, to be honest, Sirius Black was never one to miss an opportunity to show off. Just enough to please the crowd.

Peter just rolled his eyes. "Well, it's not like he's done anything to me. Why can't I—"

"Solidarity, Pete," James cut in, and Merlin, despite the topic at hand, it warmed Sirius's heart how readily Lily and James stood by Remus's side. The loyalty of Gryffindors, and all that.