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All That Sort of Sentimental Rubbish


James and Dora spent nearly all day everyday at St. Mungo’s. Sirius went the first day, but as he stood in the corner of the room, he felt like an intruder on something private, trying to stay quiet and apart from them as they sat together as a family, as they talked in whispered voices. James read the Daily Prophet to Charlus quietly and visitors came - Arthur and Bilius Weasley came together (Molly was a couple floors away, having a routine check up on the baby she carried - due in just two months!) - and Kingsley Shacklebolt - and even Albus Dumbledore. Dora had nearly cried when the old headmaster came ‘round the curtain, wearing his usual star-spangled robes, smiling as he laid a palm over Charlus Potter’s knee. Sirius felt even further apart from the Potters with every face that came and went… felt guilty for hanging about…

On the second day, Sirius elected to stay behind, to afford the Potters their privacy.

A far wiser choice, whispered Achlys. Stay where you belong. With me.

Sirius padded anxiously about the house. He didn’t want to be alone with Achlys. She was bringing him down. But he didn’t want to bother James, either. He wrote Lily a letter, just letting her know that although he couldn’t give her the details, things were alright for now and he was sorry about leaving their trip to the sea so early.

I hope you understand. I couldn’t just abandon Prongs with everything that’s going on here. I had a lot of fun with you. I think that polly-roy camera I had is still there though. Mind sending it by owl to me? I rather like taking photographs. I can’t thank you enough for asking me along to the sea. Tell your mum I said thank you, too. I really had a lot of fun with you and I hope we’re still good mates when we get back to Hogwarts. Hanging about the sea with you was so freeing and I haven’t felt so happy is such a long time. I miss you already, Evans. Have a brilliant remainder of your holiday… and please keep James in your thoughts, ey? He’s going through some stuff and I reckon it would mean the world to him to maybe hear from you sometime this summer. Alright then, have a good one. Your friend - and all that sort of sentimental rubbish - Sirius Black. XXX.

Bubo flew off with the letter and Sirius watched as she went, sighing and laying about in James’s room, glancing at the two-way mirror that James had brought with him in his pocket in case Sirius needed to come down to the hospital quickly or something. He studied his Transfiguration book and he laid about on the couch and when it was getting near time for James to get back, he went through the woods to the village to get dinners from the pub in the square and had two plates of chicken pie ready on the table when James came in the house.

“Hullo darling,” he greeted James eagerly at the door, wearing an apron of Dora’s that he’d found in the kitchen, “I’ve been simply slaving away all day in the kitchen to make you dinner.” He grabbed James’s hands and dragged him along through the house as James laughed and cried at exactly the same time, his emotions pouring out of him. Sirius shoved him into the seat at the table and lit two candles, humming.

James looked up, tears in his face, “You’re such an idiot, Padfoot.”

“I love you too deer,” Sirius answered with a smirk and he sat down and started telling James a great myriad of things he’d thought up for them to do for pranks about the castle when they got back to Hogwarts.

By the fourth day, though - the third of spending the time alone in the Potter house - Sirius needed a distraction. Achlys was making him go mad.

So it was that Sirius banged on Ace Dante’s door a little after ten in the morning on Thursday afternoon, his hands nervously shoved into his leather jacket’s pockets.

It took a ridiculous amount of time for Ace to open the door and when he did, he was wearing a pair of undershorts and a bathrobe, open, the belt hanging limp at either hip. He stared at Sirius with a confused expression upon his face for a moment, his usually tailored pompadour a mess. He blinked, then, “Black. Sirius Black.”

“Hullo,” Sirius said. “If this is a bad time --”

“No… no grand time. Grand. Come.. er come in, I s’pose. I - yeah. C’mon.” Ace stepped back, allowing Sirius in.

The house was a bit of a mess. Ace Dante turned and scooped several cartons of take out from the coffee table and his leather jacket from the couch. “Here, sit. I’ll - be right back.” And he ducked out of the room, clutching the containers to his chest.

There must’ve been a party there the night before, Sirius thought, looking around. Plastic cups littered the shelves and the top of the wide telly set in the corner. There were cigarette burns in the cushion of the easy chair beside the couch, and the room had the distinct scent of alcohol and nicotine.

Plus Ace certainly looked hung over… or something.

He came back from the other room, rubbing his face with a red bandana. He’d splashed water all over himself, it was dripping over his chin onto the chest of his shirt. He looked Sirius over as he came back in the room. “Sorry I look like shit, kid… I just got back from a bad trip. You know how it is.”

“Sure.” Sirius asked, “Take your motorbike for a spinner again did’ja, man?”

Ace Dante gave him a funny look, the corner of his lips tweaked up. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“How are you liking your new bike, by the way?” Sirius asked eagerly.

“She’s a good one. More storage than the other.” Ace looked around, “You want some… er… crisps or something?” He picked up a bag of crisps from the coffee table and opened the bag up. Sirius shook his head, but Ace started eating them, stuffing them in his mouth as he dropped down into the end chair. “Shit,” he moaned as he sank into the cushions.

Sirius felt awkward. Nearly as awkward as he did being the extra piece at St. Mungos, and he suddenly wished he’d gone with James and Dora that morning instead of coming over here. He hesitated, running his palm over the wad of muggle money he’d traded in nearly half his galleons for. He bit his lip and glanced at Ace. “Are you still selling the motorbike, mate?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ace nodded, “Yeah.” He was chewing the crisps loudly. “Like I told you before, kid, I gotta see the cash. You understand, yeah? You’re… what? Like… twelve… with fifteen hundred pounds?”

Sirius said, “I’m sixteen, actually. Nearly seventeen.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “You’re really that old?”

Sirius looked offended.

“I don’t mean it to be nasty, take it as a compliment, you still got your baby face is all.” Ace leaned forward.

“I’m not - I don’t have a -” Sirius stammered.

It’s a good thing,” Ace said, interrupting him. He reached over and put a palm across Sirius’s knee. “A really good thing. Relax. I thought you were younger, that’s all. I’m glad you’re not actually.” He leaned back into the cushions again and went back to eating the crisps. “Still odd as fuck that you got so much cash.”

Sirius dug into his pocket and withdrew the colourful muggle notes. “See, look. Right here.” He held it out to Ace Dante, who took it and leafed through it with wide eyes. “See? I told you. Now… Are you really selling the motorbike?”

“Yeah, I’m really selling it.” Ace looked up from the cash, still fanning through it with his fingers eagerly. He stared at Sirius for a long moment. “You’re a funny kid, you know that? Where’d you get all this from?”

Sirius answered, “I won a contest. A… a drawing. My school held a drawing and I won it.” He couldn’t very well tell Ace Dante he’d helped save the Minister for Magic from the most Evil Wizard of All Time with his best mate from his nefarious cousin’s house. He stared at Ace, hoping the drawing contest would satisfy Ace’s curiosity.

“You won exactly the amount to buy my old motorbike?” Ace said, raising his eyebrow.

“Won twice that, really,” Sirius confessed.

Ace Dante’s eyebrows raised. “Nice. Very nice.” He looked down at the money in his hand, then rolled it up and stuck it in his pocket. “Well. C’mon then, let’s go take a look at your new motorbike, shall we? See what parts we need to order in?” And he got up, pushing himself up from the cushions.

Sirius sprang to his feet, excited, itching to have a glimpse at the motorbike that was now his very own.