Marauders - Always - Part One

1976: The Rescue

Author's Note: Happy Birthday runbad - You've been asking for this one for a while.

Spring 1976

The large clock in the common room was ringing, tolling out the hour - three o'clock in the morning. Sirius Black lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, listening to each ringing chime as it cried out and the note hummed in the air, ongoing long and low in the night.

What was it about three in the morning that Sirius was drawn to? He was awake more often than not to hear that bell toll.

He absent mindedly drew his thumb and finger tips over the healing scar that striped his sternum the place where he'd dragged a blade in an attempt to free himself of the dark dementor in his chest - Achlys - whose multiple layered voice lingered as long and low as the morning bells but was thrice as chilling.

Remus lay beside him, but to Sirius the warmth of his boyfriend felt an entire lifetime or two apart from him.

The sound of bed springs creaking roused Sirius from a bog of dark thoughts and he looked over to see James Potter sitting up on the edge of his bed, reaching for his glasses as he slid his feet into Gryffindor red and gold trainers. As he watched, James got up and tip-toed toward the dormitory door.

"Going somewhere?" Sirius asked in a low tone.

James froze mid-step, wincing at being caught, and turned 'round. "Padfoot?" he asked into the dark quietly.

"No it's Dumbledore," Sirius said sarcastically. "I've come to catch you in the act of sneaking out of bed. Filch said there's been some sneaky students in this dorm and I've finally caught you at it!" Sirius paused. Then, "Yes of course it's me." The eyeroll was near to audible in his voice.

James was quiet a second, letting all that sink in between them, then said, "Well. Go back to sleep anyway."

Sirius said, "I wasn't asleep."

"Then... just... just go to sleep to begin with, then," James said, and he bent to grab his jacket from the foot of the bed where it was strewn along with a load of dirty quidditch robes and filthy socks. He swung it around his shoulders.

"Forgetting something, aren't you?" Sirius murmured as he was absent-mindedly turning Remus's ring around his finger.

"No," James said pointedly, "I don't think you are well enough healed yet to be going along where I'm going. You're to be resting." James eyed Sirius's chest meaningfully.

"First of all, I'm not letting you, who also ought to be resting, go off on some hair-brained adventure without me. Especially with how close of a call this last one's been..." He pushed himself up from the bed, gritting his teeth to avoid wincing from the tug of tight, freshly re-grown skin over his chest. He walked around to James's nightstand. "And anyway, more importantly perhaps, I actually meant your wand, your a." He held the wand up for James to see.

James patted his jacket and trouser pockets as though he expected the wand Sirius held up to be a trick, and then he flushed. "Give me that," James hissed, grabbing the wand from Sirius's fingers as he dangled it teasingly at James.

Sirius smirked and grabbed his leather jacket and boots. "So where are we going, darling?" he asked.

"To save Harold Minchum."

Sirius grinned. "Excellent."

Hogwarts was dark, the portraits all asleep. Even the Fat Lady only yawned as she swung open for them to climb through the portrait hole. "Sort of nice," Sirius whispered, "Not having to listen to her commentate on our sneaking off for a change."