All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Seventh Year : The Final

Can’t stay at home, can’t stay at school

Old folks say, “You poor little fool!”

Down the streets I’m the girl next door

I’m the fox you’ve been waiting for

Hello, daddy, hello, mom

I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!

Hello world, I’m your wild girl

I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!

 

Sirius Black would never be a fan of Christopher. Even when he wasn’t asking Remus to Hogsmeade every weekend, the little prat was just boring, and he always had a pretentious sort of frown on his face, like he thought he was better than everyone. Plus, even after that kiss in the corridor, Sirius still sometimes caught the boy casting longing looks after Remus.

But as the wind whipped through his hair, and the crowd screamed and booed and cheered, and James caught his eye, grinning—Sirius could have kissed Christopher, right there in the middle of the field. He might not like the boy, but he had to give credit where credit was due, and Sirius knew as he looked up at the stands that he would forever be grateful to the mousy little prefect.

*  *  *

It had all started four days ago, though of course none of them could have predicted how things would end up. The marauders had spent the entire evening in the library, studying for the last exam they would ever take at Hogwarts: Arithmancy. At least—James, Sirius, and Remus were studying. Peter was providing snacks (the house elves down in the kitchens simply adored him).

“It’s half eleven,” Sirius said, around a yawn, “C’mon, I don’t think my brain can absorb any more knowledge tonight.”

“I didn’t think your brain ever absorbed any—ow!” Sirius interrupted James’s teasing with a sharp kick under the table, and the other boy winced and rubbed his leg ruefully.

“C’mon,” Sirius tried again, “It’ll be curfew soon, anyway.”

“We’re with the head boy, I don’t think curfew matters.” Remus muttered, without even glancing up from his frantic note-taking.

Fortunately, James was on Sirius’s side. He yawned as he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

“Nah, Padfoot’s right – we’ve been here hours. Let’s call it quits and have a refresher session tomorrow?”

Peter glanced back and forth between Remus and the others, clearly just as eager to leave. Remus dipped his quill back in the pot of ink.

“You lot go, if you want, but I’ll kick myself if I waste any time on this – it’s our last exam!”

“You’re hardly wasting time,” Sirius tutted, “You’ve been in the library so much this term they’re considering putting up a plaque in your honour.”

“It’s necessary,” Remus insisted, “I want to beat Snape.”

“And you will.” Sirius assured him, “Come on, you’re getting black rings under your eyes.”