And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw Satan laughing with delight,
The day the music died.
- Don McLean, "American Pie"
ii. Sirius
They were laughing.
It took everything Sirius had not to ignore McGonagall's orders and rush out into the street.
The sound of their laughter filled the night air, reverberating off the building and rising towards the crescent-shaped moon above them. It was loud, raucous… and cruel. And it did not completely cover the hoarse screams of their victim.
The girl was young - perhaps nine or ten. She was a Muggle. Her dress was torn and stained with dirt and blood, and her wide brown eyes looked up in horror at them men who loomed over her.
Her screams were cut off as she choked on her own blood.
Sirius barred his teeth and growled.
It would be suicide to rush into this madness now, and McGonagall's patronus had been very clear. Backup would be there, and soon, and in the meantime, Sirius was outnumbered by the Death Eaters and he must not engage.
He growled again. Didn't she understand what she was asking of him? How could she expect him to just sit here, tail tucked between his legs, and watch?
There were seven Death Eaters. And one Muggle. One Muggle child.
Sirius padded back towards the shadows of the nearby buildings. The Death Eaters paid him no attention. No doubt Voldemort had obtained access to the registry at the Ministry and knew the name and animal of every registered Animagus. They had nothing to fear from a mere dog… and they were far too interested in their prey to allow him to distract them.
There was a flash of red light, and the girl started screaming again.
They were on the outskirts of a village - if it could even be called that. The houses were small, cinderblock buildings, and the streets were littered with broken cobblestones. The place had fallen on hard times, and only the most destitute lived here now.
The girl was screaming, and no one opened a door or a window to see if they could help.
That was for the best, of course, because they would no doubt be killed the moment they did. But still… Sirius couldn't help the fury that bubbled in his chest. How could anyone hear a child crying, begging, for help and ignore it?
And then it happened. There were several loud cracks, and figures appeared out of thin air. One of them cast a spell, and a shield sprung up around the child, protecting her from the Death Eaters. The others drew their wands and began engaging the Death Eaters in battle.
Sirius grinned, transformed back into his human form, and threw himself into the fray.
Winter had come early that year. The damp air had a heaviness to it, as though it was pressing down on the earth, trying to crush everything below it. No matter how valiantly the sun attempted to pierce the perpetual gray of England's winter, it could not, and the world seemed to grow just a little bit more oppressive with each passing day.
The Muggles noticed it, and yet also didn't notice. They felt the gloom seep into their lives, felt the cold lodge itself in their bones, but never paused to wonder about the cause of it all. The days got darker and winter stretched on and on, and they did not question it.
Sirius downed the shot of vodka and glanced around the Muggle pub. The air was thick with smoke, so acrid it burnt his eyes and lungs… but it was a far more comfortable feeling than the emptiness in his chest.
They had laughed.
They had laughed, and the girl had screamed, and he had just sat there.
The Muggle pub was crowded, and Sirius closed his eyes and let the noise wash over him. People were shouting and laughing and complaining and just…
Just living their lives. As though the entire country wasn't in the middle of a war, as though everything wasn't about to go up in flames and…
"Hello, handsome."
Sirius opened his eyes and glanced at the girl who had suddenly appeared at his side. She was short, much shorter than him, and spry. Her black hair was cropped close to her head and her heavily made-up eyes were bright and twinkling with amusement. A flirtatious smile curved her lips.
"Are you alone tonight?" she asked, sidling closer to him.
He swirled around on the bar stool and stared at her. She was pretty, that much was true, and he wanted to conjure up the easy smile or confident smirk that had served him so well at Hogwarts. But neither expression would come.
"You look like you could use some cheering up," she continued, and her hand came to rest on his knee.
"I could," he agreed readily enough. That much, at least, was definitely true. He glanced away from her for a moment and flagged down the bartender. "Another vodka," he said, "and…" he glanced back at the girl, "whatever she's having."
"Vodka as well," the girl said. She gave Sirius a quick look, a challenge in her gaze, and said, "I bet I could match you shot for shot."
"I've already had three," Sirius replied.
"Hm…" She leaned close, and he could feel her breath on his cheek as she whispered in his ear, "Then I'd better catch up."
The hand moved further up his leg as the bartender deposited two glasses of vodka on the bar in front of him, and the noise in the pub pressed in on the two of them, reaching a crescendo that reverberated off the walls.
Sirius downed the shot without hesitation.
In his mind, the Muggle child was still screaming.
"Where did you find him?"
Sirius' head was pounding and his senses were dulled and confused by the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, but he was at least coherent enough to recognize the voice and the accompanying sigh of exasperation coming from above him.
Only Lily Evans could fit that much disapproval into five words.
"At a Muggle pub with his tongue down some girl's throat," came the reply from the wizard Sirius was currently leaning against.
"Well, bring him in, Moony," Lily said tiredly. "Set him down on the sofa, I'll go see if I have any potions that will help with his… state."
"You don't sound happy to see me, Morgana," Sirius said, and was quite proud of the fact that his words weren't slurred. He tilted his head up and regarded Lily, and she appeared as a white blob surrounded by a halo of red.
He blinked twice, and her face slowly came into focus, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but then Remus was half-shoving, half-carrying him to the sofa. The alcohol had clearly affected his coordination, and Remus was grinning.
Sirius rolled his eyes - or, at least, attempted to. He wasn't really sure he managed it.
Lily disappeared into the kitchen, but she was back a moment later, holding a glass of something that looked and smelled absolutely foul. She shoved it at him, and said, "Here, drink this. All of it."
Sirius' stomach heaved unpleasantly as he accepted the glass. The last thing he wanted to do was drink any of this sludge, but Lily was staring at him with that look, and he knew it was in his best interest not to argue with her.
Of course, that didn't mean he was not going to do it.
"Are you trying to poison me?" he asked.
Lily raised an eyebrow. "Give me a little credit, Black," she drawled, "if I were to poison you, I would wait until there were no witnesses present." She nodded her head towards Remus as though to say that Sirius was safe… for now.
"Ah, but how could you even think of depriving the world of someone as wonderful as me?" Sirius protested, mustering up his best put-upon look.
"Oh, I think the world would manage," Lily replied with a faint smirk. "Now drink."
"Don't want to."
"What are you, four? Drink the potion, Black, or I'll force it down your throat," she replied threateningly.
Sirius groaned, but lifted the glass to his lips and drank quickly, nearly choking on the thick liquid. It made him gag, but it also started to ease the headache that had been slowly worsening since Remus had dragged him from the pub.
"Prongs not back yet?" Remus asked as Sirius attempted to finish off Lily's concoction.
Lily frowned for a moment, then said, "His meeting with Dumbledore must have run a little bit late… and he was going to bring Peter by afterwards…" She glanced towards the clock on the wall, and Sirius saw the lines of worry appear around her eyes and at the corner of her lips.
He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess you're stuck with me until Prongs gets back then."
Lily gave him a nonplussed look. "What makes you think I won't just kick you out now?"
"Do you want to get rid of me so badly, Madam le Fey?" Sirius cried, clutching his heart in mock pain. "Oh, that hurts."
Lily raised her eyebrows at him. "Get used to it," she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.
Sirius rose dramatically to his feet. "Well, if that is how you feel…" The potion had given him back full control of his senses, but it had not returned his coordination, and his attempt at a theatrical exit was ruined as his legs became awkwardly twisted beneath him and he pitched forward comically.
Remus reached out to steady him, biting back amused laughter.
"Trust you to make fun of me when I'm helpless," Sirius said, pouting up at the other Marauder.
Remus laughed outright at that. "When have you ever been helpless?"
For a moment, Sirius stilled. For a moment, his breath stopped and fury pounded through his veins. For a moment, his gaze tuned a shimmering red.
For a moment, he was a dog sitting in the shadows while the sounds of laughter and screams mingled together in the air around him.
He blinked rapidly, pushing away the memory, and allowed Remus to guide him gently back onto the sofa. Lily took the empty glass from his hand - he hadn't realized he'd still been holding it - and said, "I'll get you some water."
He watched her leave the room, then looked at Remus and said flatly, "So she knows about the mission."
"Who do you think sent me to look for you?" Remus replied, taking the seat next to Sirius on the sofa. "James sent her a Patronus from Dumbledore's office, told her that you'd been on a reconnaissance mission and…" He trailed off delicately, unable to finish the sentence.
The problem with being an unregistered Animagus was that he was good at reconnaissance. Good at slipping unnoticed through shadows and darting unseen along alleyways. Good at watching and gathering information and reporting back to the Order.
The other Order members didn't understand how he was any good at it because even now, even in the middle of the war, his ability to transform into a dog was a secret he couldn't share with anyone besides his three best friends and Lily.
But they didn't have to know how he was good at it - just that he was. And that meant that Sirius Black - one of the last people anyone could ever accuse of being subtle or understated - was often sent out on reconnaissance missions. And those missions had just two rules.
Keep your eyes open.
Don't ever engage.
Remus cleared his throat, pulling Sirius from his glum thoughts.
"We assumed that it would be… bad," Remus said slowly, clearly picking his words with some caution.
"They always are," Sirius growled. A pause, then, "This one was a Muggle child."
"What happened?" Remus pressed.
"Someone told Dumbledore that Travers and Avery had been meeting with DeFrancisci - he's that fat bloke in the Muggle Liason Office. So I was following them when they left the Ministry tonight. All three of them left together, and DeFrancisci was talking about some new legislation having to do with Muggles. Then Avery asked if DeFrancisci wanted to have some fun. I think DeFrancisci knew what they meant, because he said no - coward doesn't mind supporting the Death Eaters, he just doesn't want to have to face the kind of things they do." Sirius closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the exact moment when DeFrancisci had left and those other Death Eaters had appeared in their dark robes and masks, ready for fun.
He shook his head and didn't finish the story. He'd have to go to Hogwarts, or maybe Headquarters, to report to Dumbledore, but for right now he didn't want to think about this.
He didn't want to remember the way they had laughed as one of the Death Eaters had dragged the young girl from her house and thrown her to the ground in the middle of their circle, didn't want to remember the sound of her screams and the scent of fresh blood, didn't want to remember his frantic message to McGonagall and her reply.
Do not engage until back up arrives.
"How many were there?" Remus asked.
"Seven," Sirius answered dully.
Remus reached out and placed a hand lightly on Sirius' shoulder. "You're not invincible, Sirius. If you'd tried to fight them before the other Order members got there, they would have killed you."
"So I was suppose to hide in the dark while they tortured a child?" Sirius spat out, the pain still so raw and the anger still so fresh.
Remus let out a slow breath. "Would you have been any help to the child if you'd been killed?"
Sirius shrugged Remus' hand off his shoulder and muttered sourly, "You should have left me in the pub. I was having a better time there."
"Yes, I saw," Remus said dryly. "She was pretty, I'll give you that much."
"Good snog, too," Sirius replied. Remus rolled his eyes, and Sirius added, "Better than being stuck here with the two of you. Where is Evans, anyway? How long does it take to get water?"
As if on cue, Lily reappeared in the doorway holding the glass of water in her hand. Sirius was under no delusions about what had happened; Lily had been standing in the kitchen listening to the entire conversation, waiting for the appropriate moment to join them again. She knew that this was the sort of thing he would talk to Remus about, and the sort of thing he wouldn't talk to her about, and that was why she had left the room in the first place.
He was both annoyed and gratified by her understanding.
Sirius took the water from her at the exact moment that the door burst open and James came bounding into the room with a grin on his face, Peter trailing behind.
"Padfoot!" he exclaimed. "Moony!"
Sirius exchanged a brief look with Remus, who looked just as bewildered by James' enthusiasm as Sirius felt.
"Did you tell them?" James asked, looking at Lily. "Did you?"
Lily shook her head, an expression of fond amusement on her face as she gazed at her husband. "Not yet," she said. "I was waiting for you." She looked down, studying her nails for a moment, and added casually, "And I still think it is too early to say anything about this."
"It's the beginning of December, love," James protested. "We've already waited."
"Not long enough. We really should be waiting until January," Lily answered. "Every book I've read says that you should wait at least three months until…"
"I can't wait. I want everyone to know. I want to fly over the entire city and shout the news at the top of my lungs," James replied. Then he paused, frowned at Lily for a moment, and added, "And haven't you already told Cynthia?"
"I didn't tell Cynthia," Lily shot back defensively. "She figured it out on her own when I turned green at the smell of that tea she brought over."
"I thought you looked lovely," James said. "That shade of green matched your eyes so well."
"Prongs," Peter cut in, rubbing a hand over tired eyes, "what did you want to tell us?"
James grinned boyishly and crossed to Lily's side. He rested his arm casually over her shoulders and gave her a look of complete adoration as he announced, "I'm going to have a baby!"
"We're going to have a baby, James," Lily corrected with a light laugh. "And I am the one who is pregnant."
"Yes, right… well." James was still grinning as he kissed Lily on the nose. "We're going to have a baby. A little James. James Jr."
"We're not calling him James Jr. Besides, we don't even know if it is a boy. Maybe it will be a girl, and I don't think she is going to like being called James."
"Hm… true. Well, if it is a girl, we can call her Jamesella."
"Jamesella? What kind of name is Jamesella?"
"Jamesina? Jamesa? Jamesica? I'm sure we'll come up with something, love," James said with a wink.
"I suppose congratulations are in order," Remus interrupted the quibbling couple. He rose from the sofa and quickly embraced both James and Lily, a genuine smile on his features. "I look forward to meeting little Jamesella."
"I am not naming my daughter Jamesella!" Lily snapped. Then her expression softened and she said, "Thank you, Remus."
Peter scurried over and gave his own congratulations, and then James turned to Sirius expectantly.
Sirius just stared at him. "You're having a baby?" he asked, not sure he quite understood. "I… you're having a baby? I don't… how?"
"How?" James repeated. "Do you really need me to explain where babies come from?"
James was going to have a baby. James was going to be a father. James was going to raise a child… in this world.
In the sudden silence of the room, Sirius could hear the echoes of a Muggle child screaming.
But James had clearly been excited to share this news with his best friends, and had expected more of a reaction. His hazel eyes were darkening, a look of worry replacing the love and exhilaration that had shone there moments before, and Sirius felt a stab of guilt that his silence was the reason for that.
He cast about for something to say, something that would sound like him, something that would be more sincere and heartfelt than a simple congratulations, and before he could fully think through the words he found himself saying, "So when do I get to take the kid for a ride on my motorbike?"
"No child of mine is riding that flying death trap!" Lily interjected as James laughed.
Sirius smiled slightly, watching with amusement as his friends - his family - gathered around him. The screams were fading now, and Peter was insisting on raiding the kitchen for some champagne to celebrate while Remus hugged Lily again and James flopped down on the sofa with that silly grin back on his face.
"Don't worry, Morgana," Sirius said with a smirk, "I promise not to let your child ride my motorbike until he is at least a year old."
"Lily says James wants to name their child Jamesella."
Sirius glanced up as Cynthia slid onto the barstool next to him. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing dark trousers and a blue shirt, and despite the casualness of her dress, she still looked stunning.
But then, Cynthia was always been beautiful.
"Yes," Sirius agreed, sipping at his Firewhisky. "Evans doesn't seem to like that idea."
Cynthia nodded. "What a surprise," she deadpanned. She looked around the room, and asked, "So what are you doing at the Hog's Head?"
Sirius stared at her blankly for a moment, then lifted his glass and said, "Drinking."
Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Don't be a prat, Black," she said, but her tone was good-natured and a smile tugged at her lips. She glanced at his Firewhisky with pursed lips. "Why are you drinking?"
Sirius regarded her for a long moment. He'd always liked her better than Marlene, who giggled far too much and was always gossiping. But Cynthia hadn't joined the Order, even when Marlene had, and he'd often wondered about that. She hated pureblood prejudiced, and she knew that the country was fighting a war, and yet she hadn't felt the same need to fight as he had.
He looked down at his drink and said, "I can't tell you."
He doubted she would understand, anyway. She wasn't in the Order - and perhaps she was content to live her life as though the world was not crumbling all around them, but he was not, and so she could not possibly hope to comprehend the hell he went through so frequently.
Cynthia accepted that in silence, and if she caught the judgment in his tone, she said nothing about it. She never pressed for details about the Order, even though she had to know that several of her friends were in it. Membership was supposed to be a secret, but it wasn't - not really. Anyone with half a brain and a little bit of perceptiveness could figure it out, Cynthia was smarter than most.
But even if she had been in the Order, Sirius doubted she would have pressed for more of an answer. She seemed to understand that there were things they couldn't share, and there were things they didn't want to share, and she respected both.
Sirius put the glass down on the bar and ran a hand through his hair. It had been so easy to ignore the war during the previous night's celebrations. His friends' joy had momentarily lessened the horrors they faced every day. But then he'd left James and Lily and their planning for the future and walked back out into the real world and…
"Does it help?" Cynthia asked. He slanted a confused look at her, and she elaborated, "The alcohol. Does the alcohol help?"
He looked down at his drink. "Not really," he admitted.
"Did snogging a complete stranger help?" Cynthia asked, a teasing light in her eyes.
"Evans tell you about that?" Sirius groaned.
"Lily tells me everything," Cynthia replied.
Sirius nodded. "So did you have to hear all about how much she hates all the names James has picked?"
Cynthia laughed. "Can you blame her? He's got lousy taste if he's going with Jamesella." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar, and said to the passing bartender, "Can I have a Firewhisky, please?"
Sirius raised an eyebrow at her. "Didn't realize you could handle that stuff."
"I probably can't," Cynthia replied honestly. "But when did that ever stop me?"
The bartender handed Cynthia her drink and Sirius watched as she gulped down half the amber liquid in the glass, coughing as it burned the back of her throat.
There were dark circles under her eyes.
"You might want to slow down," he said. "Unless you have someone to carry you back to your flat."
Cynthia gave him a flirtatious smile and said, "Are you volunteering?"
Sirius grinned, but replied, "You're not my type."
"Ah, yes. You prefer strangers."
"Touché. But then, you are about as strange as they come."
"Funny, Black, very funny."
"Oh, I'm not funny. I'm always quite serious."
Cynthia shook her head. "Doesn't that joke ever get old?"
"Of course not," Sirius replied, taking another sip from his glass. "None of my jokes get old."
"Who told you that?"
"James."
"And you believed him? The man who wants to name his daughter Jamesella?"
The banter was easy and comfortable, and for a moment it felt like they were back at Hogwarts, back behind the walls of the school that had somehow protected them from the reality of this war.
Cynthia swiveled around in her barstool, glancing around, and said, "I suppose I will just have to find someone else to take me home. Shouldn't be that hard..."
And, as if to prove her point, Sirius noticed that several of the wizards in the seedy bar had paused to look at her as she surveyed them.
"Yes, yes... you are beautiful and can entrance any guy you want," Sirius said in a bored tone, "you know... as long as he's a complete moron without any personality or intelligence."
Cynthia glared at him.
Sirius grinned, then lifted his glass and clinked it against hers. "To going home with complete strangers."
"You're a complete prat," came the reply.
Sirius took a sip of the Firewhisky and wondered how Cynthia could manage to smile so easily. She might not be in the Order, but this was still a war, and she was training to be a Healer...
He closed his eyes and listened to the screams echoing through his thoughts.
"What happened?" Cynthia asked finally.
I can't tell you.
The words lingered on the tip of his tongue, but instead of saying them he found himself answering honestly, "I watched seven Death Eaters torture a child. A defenseless Muggle. And I couldn't stop them."
"You stopped them eventually," Cynthia replied.
It wasn't a question, but Sirius answered anyway. "I did. Well, we did. And we caught a couple of them, and I'm not dead, and the girl isn't dead, and I know that is a good thing, but… the child was screaming. Do you really think she cares that I had a good reason for waiting to help her?"
Cynthia took another sip of her Firewhisky. "No," she answered flatly. "But your death wouldn't have saved her any sooner."
"Yeah…" Sirius downed the last of his drink. "Somehow, that doesn't really help."
"I know," Cynthia agreed quietly. She swirled the remains of her own drink around in her glass, and then swallowed the rest of the Firewhisky in a single gulp.
"Do you want another one?" Sirius asked.
"Trying to get me drunk?" Cynthia asked.
"Of course," Sirius retorted. "How else am I suppose to take advantage of you? Unless perhaps I can win you over with my charm and good looks."
"What charm and good looks?"
"Oh, you've wounded me," Sirius shot back.
"You'll survive," Cynthia replied dryly.
"I happen to know that you thought I was quite handsome when we were at Hogwarts," Sirius said, and was rewarded by a faint blush creeping up Cynthia's cheeks.
"It was a passing phase," she said, flicking a few loose strands of blonde hair out of her eyes. "I outgrew it."
"Not possible," Sirius declared. "No one ever becomes tired of me! If anything, people like me even more as time passes. I grow on them."
"Like fungi?"
Sirius had no reply to that, and Cynthia gave him a satisfied smirk.
He glanced at Cynthia's empty glass. "You never did tell me… why are you drinking tonight?"
Cynthia frowned at him, then looked away. "I work at St. Mungo's, Black," she said tiredly. "Who do you think they brought the Muggle girl to?"
He didn't fancy Cynthia - hadn't even thought about her romantically since Hogwarts. But she was a comfortable constant in his life. Sometimes she made him forget; sometimes she seemed like the only person who understood; sometimes she annoyed him so much he wanted to strangle her. But whatever he felt, she was always there.
He knew they were in the middle of a war, and he knew that people died, but somehow it never occurred to him that she could be one of those people.
All This Waiting For The Sky To Fall by Dawnie
Chapter Notes: We're jumping around in time a bit here, so this chapter takes place a few months before the last one.