All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Third Year : Hogsmeade

Saturday, 15th September 1973

“Pack your cloak, James.”

“Why?

“You never know, do you?”

“Fine, but I doubt we’ll want it.”

“Don’t forget you owe me a galleon on that bet we had.”

“I haven’t,” James assured him, “Just relax for a minute, will you?”

“Never,” Sirius grinned, veins fizzing with adrenaline, “You do realise that this is the most excitement I’ve had in months? I wasn’t even allowed to go to Diagon Alley this summer.”

“You had more going on than I did,” James frowned, “You at least had all that betrothal drama. My family’s so boring.”

“Shut up, Potter, your family’s amazing and you know it. I definitely had the worst summer.”

“I had a great time in France.” Peter chirped, but Sirius ignored him—as did the other two boys.

“What about you, Moony?” James asked, trying to include Remus. They picked their way down the stairs to the common room, joining the rest of the eager third years. Their voices blended into the low buzz of chatter; everyone was excited for their first trip into the village.

“What about me?” Remus asked, a little too innocently.

“How was your summer? You haven’t told us anything.”

“Nothing to tell,” Remus shrugged, “More boring than both of yours – no magic. I just read.” Sirius didn’t believe it for a second—he was still trying to figure out his friend’s secret, and thought that Remus was being entirely too nonchalant.

But James didn’t have the same instinct for deception. He responded cheerfully, “Well, you’re all coming to mine for Christmas. Same as last year, yeah?” They began to file out of the common room, following the pull of the crowd towards the front entrance, “Moon’s on the tenth of December, so we don’t even have to worry about that.”

Remus’s mouth fell open.

“How do you know when it is?” As if they didn’t all take astronomy together.

“Told you, we were bored over the summer,” Sirius nudged him, “We looked it up, for the next few years.”

“But...why?!” Remus asked, flabbergasted. He looked as if he didn’t quite believe them.

“It’s like quidditch,” James said (one of his most commonly used phrases—along with ‘Oi, Evans!’), “You’ve got to know your team’s weaknesses in order to work to their strengths.”

“If you say so,” Remus mumbled, frowning. Sirius wondered if James’s word choice had offended him—”weakness.” Remus hated sharing any vulnerability; he was too proud. But just because he was too hard-headed to ask for help didn’t mean his friends were going to stop caring—after all, what else were friends for?

“Look who it is,” Sirius poked James with his elbow, gesturing to the archway entrance. A hunched figure hovered, like an overgrown bat. Lily pushed past the marauders and went to meet him: Snape.