"we deserved better than what we got."
-via Ben Maxfield
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London, January 1980
Sirius had never liked Benjy Fenwick. He was obnoxious and crude, not to mention unnecessarily lewd, and he never respected anyone's boundaries in the Order. Benjy chewed with his mouth open and slurped his noodles – an act that was only adorable when Lily did it – and it drove Sirius absolutely crazy. He didn't know his left from his right, nor did he know basic multiplication most days; he was dumb as a rock and lazy as a pig. Damn did the kid get on his last nerve all seven days of the week!
Yet, Sirius only heard good things about him at his funeral. Apparently, Benjy had done volunteer work at St. Mungo's for years, not for any money or glory, but from the bottom of his heart. He'd taught Marlene breathing techniques for her frequent panic attacks; it would explain how she'd been able to keep herself sane upon hearing the news of their late friend. He treated James and Lily to drinks every third Friday of the month and sent Remus a Christmas card after his departure.
He told Sirius the truth about that little rat – Pettigrew – when he'd no obligation to.
Sirius treated Benjy like scum, sometimes rightfully so, and Benjy refused to reciprocate with animosity because, it would seem as if, he understood. Not many people did in such circumstances according to Minnie. There were people like Alice and Frank, who'd lost so much as a fingernail thus far into the war. There were people like James and Lily, constantly torn between supporting either friend. And then there were people like Benjy and Sirius – who'd lost it all. Well, Benjy had lost it all.
His family, his friends. He'd lost his lover and even the family cat.
Sirius had to remind himself, as he stared at the casket he'd known was empty, that there were some who truly lost everything. Everything including their own life.
"He wasn't the best," James sighed, "but he was brilliant in his own way."
Lily nodded, nose and cheeks bright red from the constant rubbing and wiping. Only they remained; Remus had been chatting with a few senior members of the Order in another room. It seemed appropriate. Benjy always claimed the Marauders were his favorite in the group – especially the dreamy James with his untamed hair and dazzling hazel eyes.
"I know you didn't care for him much," Lily said.
"No," Sirius shook his head. "I didn't. But he was loyal and brave, and that's all I could ask for, really."
James stared down, Sirius knowing that he could only imagine the split second before it all happens.
They'd been talking on a bench; their patrol had been anything but glamorous. The night was slow and chilly, their conversation dank as could be. They'd somehow gotten on the topic of their own feelings – a ghastly subject if one asked Sirius. He wasn't the best at emotional heart to hearts; he often fumbled over the own contents of his soul, and Benjy wasn't his confidant to begin with. But it had felt relieving knowing someone was there who understood. Someone who understood that this war considered no one's wants and needs. It was selfish and relentless, and it wouldn't stop until it was satisfied.
And in the split second where he'd once been staring at Benjy, laughing at the idea that, out of every mouse in London, Peter fucking Pettigrew had been the leak in the Order, he was gone – splattered across the pavement and bench and trash cans in a billion little pieces.
It had all happened so fast, really, Sirius couldn't quite remember what followed. A few masks and dark cloaks, a hooked nose, and nearly silver hair. A pair of dark, nearly crimson eyes had stuck out from the shadows of a hood, a serpent-like voice muttering odd phrases – probably curses. Sirius had managed to escape with the coat on his back, apparating to the new Headquarters in a split second to share the news.
YOU ARE READING
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