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Wear a Helmet


Sirius and Remus didn’t show back up until the next day. They came in the hospital wing after breakfast with Peter, toting along a niffler they’d stolen from Professor Kettleburn’s room. It was Sirius’s idea, and he’d tied his Gryffindor scarf ‘round the niffler’s waist and cinched it up good so the little black furry creature couldn’t get away. James laughed as it rummaged about in the blankets, searching for gold in the folds of cloth. They named him Paul and they had a ruddy good time playing with Paul - Bilius had a galleon that they rolled across the ward and watched him run after - until Madam Pomfrey caught them at it and summoned Professor Kettleburn to collect his magical creature. Peter snuck some little cakes up from the kitchens for Lily after lunch. Madam Pomfrey had a fit when Ali Prewitt, Marlene McKinnon and Emmaline Vance arrived to visit, too, the ward becoming a bit of a party zone, but looked the other way for a time when she heard they were all wishing Lily Evans a happy birthday. Eventually, though, Pomfrey herded the extras out, saying it was time to rest, and Sirius waved from the door as they ducked out of the ward.

James waited until everyone had settled down after the eventful mid-afternoon - Bilius had left the castle, headed back to the Burrow with Arthur, and Frank was busy whispering quietly to Ali, who had been the only non-patient allowed to stay, in his corner of the room.

“Oi. Evans,” James said, and he waved the little package he had for her, wrapped all pretty in a polka-dotted paper, then tossed it to her. He grinned when she caught it, “Nice one, Evans. See, you really do belong playing chaser again.”

Lily laughed and shook her head, “I’m afraid I’m retired,” she replied, and she looked the box over. It was petite and perfectly square. She looked up at him, “You really didn’t have to do this, Potter.”

James shrugged, “It isn’t a big deal… I only agonized over what to get you for months.” He said it jokingly.

Lily laughed and she pulled open the paper, letting it fall on her lap. Inside was a small blue box and she opened the box to find a petite gold chain and at the bottom was a funny charm hanging from the front of it. She held it up, the chain wove between her fingers as she studied the necklace with wide eyes. It was a relatively plain necklace, but there was something hypnotically lovely about it that made her smile as it spun from her fist.

“It’s a stag antler,” he said.

Lily nodded, staring at the sparkle of the gold hanging from her fist, tears in her eyes.

James watched her eyes following it as it moved in the air, biting his lip and leaning a bit forward. “Do you like it, Evans?”

“I love it,” she whispered.

James smiled, “I’m glad.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, watching as she reached back to try to fasten it. When she struggled with the clip, he slid out of bed and went over and reached up to help her. He held the chain as she swept her hair to one side and then carefully reached ‘round her and brought the two ends together at the nape of her neck. Heat radiated off her there and he stared at the spot where her hair tapered off into skin as some great lump of emotion rose up in him. Even after he’d closed the clasp on the chain, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to lower his hands, wanting to stay as close to her as he could for as long as possible… He fought this great desire to press his mouth to her skin there. He imagined it would taste like a particularly strong vanilla if he did, and he held his breath to keep himself from testing the theory.

She dropped her hair after a moment and he stepped away, backing up to his own bed and climbing back in, his breath a bit short, mind a bit numb. He glanced over toward Ali and Frank, who were both staring at him and Lily - Ali’s jaw dropped with a wide, excited expression on her face and Frank raised one eyebrow with a sort of encouraging grin playing about his mouth. Ali had the decency to pretend she hadn’t been staring, at least. James turned back to Lily, who was running her fingers over the gold antlers at her throat.

“Is there a reason you chose the antlers?” Lily asked, her eyes meeting his.

He opened his mouth to tell her -- but stopped himself, deciding she didn’t need to know his reason, thought it might upset her. “Nawh. I guess ‘cos of Divination last year,” he replied, rubbing his neck. “I know how you love stags.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember me telling you about that,” she marvelled.

James shrugged, “Mostly I just thought it was pretty.”

“It is. Very.”

James smiled, his eyes playing across the antlers resting against her skin. “It suits you nicely, love.”




At dinner that evening, Dumbledore came down to the Gryffindor house table that evening and put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “A word, Mr. Black?”

Peter looked nervous and Remus’s eyebrow went up as Sirius climbed up from the table, dusting food crumbs from his hands, and Dumbledore slid his arm ‘round Sirius’s shoulders and led him out of the Great Hall. They walked aways down a corridor and Sirius waited for Dumbledore to say something - it took some times, but finally, Dumbledore said, “Mr. Filch told me about the motorbike, of course, being stolen from the Muggle Artefacts Museum… And curiously, it seems there were muggle reports of a very similar motorbike in the skies over London.”

Sirius looked up at Dumbledore.

“What were you thinking, Mr. Black?”

“That my friends were being tortured and possibly murdered and it was the only vehicle available.” Sirius answered with a spark of attitude.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow.

“Sir.” Sirius added.

Dumbledore shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well. The Ministry took notice,” he said, and he reached into his robes pocket and produced a crumpled bit of the Daily Prophet featuring a wizarding photograph of the motorbike. Taken as the motorbike passed over Lindonfordshire in the early hours of January 29 by Mr. Tatum Catcherly read the caption. Sirius stared at the streak of the motorbike passing from one frame to the other, the tiny dots that were him and James just barely hanging on...

Sirius looked up at Dumbledore. “What would you have had me do instead?” he demanded, “Let them all die? I didn’t see you swooping in on a motorbike ‘til we’d all been nearly killed. Someone had to get there to save them. Someone had to go give You-Know-Who some what-for. So I ruddy did it. I took James Potter and I hauled him to that damn motorbike and I made him get his specky little arse on the seat and I drove that bloody motorbike across the whole of England to bloody get to my friends. If there’s blood in my veins, Voldemort can either spill it or go to hell -- but he can’t have my friends so long as I’m alive to fight him.”

Dumbledore’s old smile was one Sirius recognized well - it was the same smile that McGonagall gave him when she told him to get his feet off the table - and it said you’re such a rebel, Sirius Black, what am I going to do with you? “Mr. Black --” Dumbledore murmured, “Next time you pull a little stunt like flying a motorbike clear across the country… at least wear a helmet.”

Sirius stared as Dumbledore walked away.




“And then he just walked away?” James gasped, staring up at Sirius in awe. It was the wee hours of the morning and Sirius, unable to sleep because of swarming nightmares of falling black cloaks and a haunting image of ten-year-old Severus Snape in his mum’s library, had snuck down to the hospital wing beneath the invisibility cloak. Even snuggling in Remus’s bed hadn’t kept the nightmares at bay, so Sirius had whispered he’d be right back to his Moony and snuck off into the dark corridors to talk to James.

“Yeah. Wear a helmet next time, and walks away,” Sirius said with a laugh. He’d pulled up a stool and sat upon it backwards, leaning against the bed, his arms sprawled across the edge of the mattress, head lolling back to look at James. “Not even a detention. And I ruddy doubt whether he’ll even mention the thing to you at all.”

James shook his head. “I swear to Merlin, we could get away with anything with Dumbledore… McGonagall’s the one you gotta watch out for. She’s the real punisher ‘round here.”

“Minnie?” said Sirius with a laugh, “Please. Minnie’s got a soft spot for you and I both and you know it.”

“Doesn’t stop her assigning detentions, though, does it?”

“I think she likes the excuse to hang out with us,” laughed Sirius.

James laughed, too.

Suddenly Sirius let out a great sigh and he flopped down so he was half laying on the bed, his back bent funny to keep his bum on the stool, head across James’s lap. “I’m so blood tired, Potter,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“Go back to bed, mate,” James suggested. “I’m betting Rey’s feeling lonely.”

Sirius laughed, “My poor ickle Moony. Alone in bed.”

“Probably doesn’t know what to do with all the space.”

“What space? Bloody wolf takes up all the room anyway. You know how much space I get in that bloody bed? About this much.” Sirius held his fingers up, pinched together. “Unless I go laying on top of him --”

“I don’t need to know about you laying on top of anybody, mate,” James interrupted.

A smirk crawled across Sirius’s face and he rolled his head to look to be sure she was still asleep, then looked at James, “You wouldn’t mind hearing about yourself laying on top of Evans, I reckon.”

“Shut it,” James hissed, turning red.

Sirius cackled.

“I bloody mean it, shut your mouth.” James looked over at her, worried she might’ve somehow heard Sirius say it, afraid that she’d think he, James, had done or said something to provoke it. He turned back to Sirius.

Sirius’s eyes were no longer playful again, though, they’d darkened and he’d turned his eyes to the ceiling. There was a certain look of melancholy that seemed to sink through him that set James on edge. “Are you alright?” James asked.

Sirius looked up at him.

“You can talk to me, you know, about stuff if you need to. I can’t imagine having You-Know-Who in your head like that could’ve been any grand feeling at all…”

Sirius hadn’t told James about Eileen Prince. He wasn’t even sure James knew he’d killed a Death Eater at all, as he’d been on Peter’s side of the circle, the opposite from the direction James had been facing, when it happened. And if he did know, James clearly wasn’t making the connection between the death and the weight upon Sirius’s shoulders. He’d cried for hours into Remus’s neck about it, down in the Trophy Room passageway that morning, before they’d gone for a walk to clear Sirius’s head (which had ended up being the mission to collect Paul). But James was blissfully unaware of Sirius’s status as a murderer.

“Let’s have an adventure,” Sirius suggested.

“What?” James blinked in surprise at the sudden turn of conversation.

“You and me. Let’s go get up to no good.”

“Was all that happened two days ago not adventure enough for you?” James asked.

Sirius laughed, “It hardly counts as adventure - that was military in nature. I’m talking about a real adventure. Let’s go explore the castle, let’s see if we can find any tunnels to add to the map, let’s climb the walls of the castle, let’s sit on the rooftop and watch the sunrise.”

James stared at him, “You’re serious.”

“I’m always Sirius.”

“But not very practical, I’m sort of in the hospital, see,” James said.

“You’re fine.”

James hesitated.

“C’mon, Prongs. Let’s gooo. Let’s go be wild.”

James bit his lip.

“Prongsie…” Sirius said, and his eyes glistened, “Please. I need this. You have no idea how badly I need this. James pushed his covers off his legs and rolled out of the bed. A grin spread over Sirius’s face, “Yesss,” he whispered, “The Marauders of Hogwarts - at large! Overcoming the castle! We’ll blow the ceiling right off the top, mate, paint these stone walls orange, turn the castle on it’s head!”

A smirk ran over James’s face, “That would be a brilliant prank, now wouldn’t it?”

They stared at one another for a moment, picturing it.

“Think there’s a charm for it?” James asked.

“To the library!” hissed Sirius, and he swung the cloak over their heads.

Lily waited until she’d heard the door of the hospital wing creak shut before she opened her eyes… her fingers clasped over the golden antlers at her neck.