All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Fourth Year : March

One day, though it might as well be someday

You and I will rise up all the way

All because of what you are

The prettiest star

Staying back in your memory

Are the movies in the past

How you moved is all it takes

To sing a song of when I loved

Prettiest star

 

Saturday 8th March 1975

 

Sirius was going to die.

He was really, truly, in grave danger of perishing—if time didn’t start to move faster, he was pretty sure that he was going to explode in the middle of the common room. Some people were simply built for keeping secrets, and Sirius Black was not one of them.

Remus’s birthday was in two days—a Monday, which meant if they wanted to celebrate (really celebrate) it would have to happen this weekend. Luckily, the marauders already had a plan in place; unluckily, that plan stipulated utmost secrecy to ensure maximum surprise on behalf of one Remus Lupin. By the time night fell, Sirius was practically crawling up the walls—James had told him about six different times to calm down.

The second the clock struck nine, Sirius was bounding upstairs to their room. Moony had retired earlier to lounge about and listen to one of Sirius’s records (he kept stealing the record player and squirreling it away by his bed, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to mind). He burst through the door, startling the poor boy as he practically leapt across the room.

“Ready?!” Sirius asked, grinning wickedly and bouncing from foot to foot.

“For what?” Remus pulled his nose out of a book, marking his place before setting it aside.

“For your birthday surprise, obviously,” Sirius drawled, “C’mon, up you get, shoes on please – wear those mad muggle boots you’ve got, with the crazy laces.”

“Er…where are we going?”

“Out.” He dug around in his trunk for a pair of muggle jeans and a black t-shirt—Remus was already wearing jeans, as he often did on weekends.

“Oh, you mean out out?” his friend asked, raising an eyebrow as Sirius threw off his robes to change.

“Yeah, take your cloak.”

Remus wore the boots with the crazy laces, as instructed. Sirius tapped his foot impatiently as he laced them up, watching the scarred fingers deftly tie the knots. Luckily, he didn’t ask any more questions—Sirius was already on the verge of breaking down and spilling his guts, which James would definitely hold against him.

They walked downstairs, looking, Sirius was sure, like the height of muggle fashion in the outfits he had carefully selected. James and Peter met them in the common room, and the three of them exchanged mischievous grins.