All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Third Year : Home Again

Please don’t believe in me, please disagree with me

Life is too easy, a plague seems quite feasible now

Or maybe a war, or I may kill you all

Don't let me stay, don’t let me stay

My logic says burn so send me away

Your minds are too green, I despise all I've seen

You can’t stake your lives on a saviour machine

Saturday 1st September 1973

On the morning that Sirius finally returned to Hogwarts, his parents seemed to have decided that he existed again. His mother shouted at him to go back to his room and not return until he was dressed properly—his robes were purposely rumpled, his hair carefully mussed. She wouldn’t let them leave until both her sons were the absolute picture of poise and decorum, which drove Sirius mad.

Just a few more hours, he reminded himself, clinging to the fact that he would soon be free of his wretched family and reunited with his friends. He had spent the entire month of August counting down the days, feeling as though he might crawl out of his skin if he had to spend another second trapped in those awful halls.

When he finally caught sight of platform 9 and ¾, Sirius couldn’t stop the broad grin that split his face in two. He could almost hear the crackle of the Gryffindor fireplace, could almost taste the feast...

His mother grabbed his arm, digging her nails into his skin.

“Don’t go running off, now,” She hissed, quietly enough that none of the surrounding passers-by could hear, “We have an image to maintain.”

Sirius tried to wriggle out of her grasp, muttering, “What?!”

“We will go as a family, and you will board the train with your brother, am I understood? There are appearances to keep up, boy, especially after that stunt your cousin pulled.”

She finally released him, and he rubbed his arm, grimacing.

“Fine.”

Regulus stared at the ground, pointedly ignoring the exchange. Sirius scowled at him.

He slouched against a station pillar once they were inside, mussing up his hair again and re-rumpling his robes. His mother was too busy fawning over Reg to notice—she crouched down to smooth back his hair, whispering to him about family pride and “remembering what he’d learned that summer,”—whatever that was supposed to mean. Regulus only nodded, white-faced, holding himself stiffly as if he had to concentrate to keep from drooping.

The crowded station slowly emptied of people as students streamed onto the train, shouting goodbyes and waving to their families. Walpurga waited until the last minute to send her sons off, brushing her lips against Regulus’s forehead and acting as though Sirius were invisible. He rolled his eyes as he boarded, not even bothering to wave.

In the narrow hallway, Reg hesitated for a moment. Sirius raised a brow.

“Well? Run along then, haven’t you missed all your creepy little friends?”