the cadence of part time poets

Chapter 78: Champions, Heroes, and Everyone In Between

If I was a sculptor, ha,
But then again, no,
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show;
I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do,
My gift is my song, and this one's for you... 

- "Your Song" Elton John, 1970

On the morning of his eighteen birthday, Sirius got two phone calls. One from Mr. Potter's lawyer (until then Remus hadn't been fully aware that lawyers needed their own lawyers in the first place) and one from his parents. Relief came when he picked up the receiver and found that it was not the stern, haunting voices of Walburga and Orion Black, but rather, the warm, jewel-toned accents of the Potters, calling to wish their second son the bestest of birthdays.

Sirius did not bother to hide his tears this time.

Really, they should've known when the call came straight to the dormitory that evening. The Blacks never called their line directly. Remus let Sirius have his moment with his family—joined by James as they shouted happily into the phone loud enough that they could be heard all the way in the common room. The rest of their friends were slouched around on the couches in front of the fire, sharing popcorn while Peter tried his best to sort out the TV James had managed to nick as dorm head for the special occasion. They had to negotiate terms outlining the sworn lack of alcohol just to get it, but considering most of the school was still reeling from Halloween, nobody seemed to mind much.

"Blasted piece of—" Peter grunted, smacking the top of the telly as it continued to fizzle with static. "Knew we should've grabbed the other HMV model."

"What time is the show supposed to be on?" Lottie asked over a yawn.

"Seven," Remus answered, slouched down very comfortably between Mary and Marlene. He was excited—they never got to watch the Pops on the night it showed, since televisions weren't allowed in the dorms on school nights. Better yet, every single one of them had a hat to throw into the ring; Queen was showing it's newest single, leaving Remus positively giddy in his seat, and ABBA and Bowie were playing as well. It was sure to be a stacked performance.

"Should you be smoking that inside? You're still a prefect during off-hours, you know," Lily said from a couch over, glancing pointedly at the cigarette in Remus' hand.

"Unless you're trading places with me tomorrow as Regulus Black's baby-sitter, you can sit with the smoke, Evans."

"You'll never get over that."

"It's training for the future. I'm practising holding a grudge."

"You're practising being a nob."

Remus smiled to himself and took another drag before Mary leaned over to pluck it from his fingers.

"Speaking of Regulus," she started, taking a drag; "I wonder how he's taking all of this. Sirius being practically adopted by the Potters and all that."

They all looked at Remus pointedly.

"I don't know, okay?" He huffed. "We only have to do prefects' stuff alone together a few times a month and he usually just refuses to speak to me."

"What is it you're doing tomorrow?" Marlene asked, tucking her toes up under his thigh. Marlene's feet were always as cold as Lake Dubh.

"Music class," Remus answered, unenthusiastically.

"Like teach?"

"Mhm. Primary music teacher took ill, and Sheila's got choir practice. She asked if Regulus and I would do it instead. It was either that or gym class with the sixth years."

"That's brilliant though!" Lily applauded. "I bet you'll be a great teacher."

Remus didn't bother discouraging her, but it was hard not to think about the sour face Regulus had put on when they'd been asked to step in. So far neither of them had managed to say a kind word to one another, though Remus hardly thought it his fault. He'd tried apologising to Regulus, but the younger boy stood firm in his resentment. Remus had even tried putting himself into his shoes for a bit—even if he and Sirius were constant adversaries, he couldn't imagine losing your only brother to some other family felt very nice—but Regulus wouldn't have it.