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9 months. Sirius Black had been free for nine whole months and still, nothing had come quite this close to perfect. Sure, there was a lying, villainous, murdering rat near him that was still trying to wriggle out of punishment after 12 years but he looked past that. Of all the experiences had at Hogwarts he was sure that every student still remembered their first look at the castle as their best. It was unreal. The turrets and towers along with the ornate architecture lit up against the inky black sky was dazzling to any eye. And now he was stood there, as a free man, his godson at his side breathing in the cold Scottish summer’s night air. It was amazing.
Like a flash flood, all of his school memories hit him. He remembered the prank war that had ensued between all four boys. Each going above and beyond to embarrass, outrage and outdo one another. He thought back to that week when he gave four girls in his year a love potion that cursed them to profess their undying love for James. It was crystal clear in his mind as it was the day James had chased him through the grounds as he ran in hysterics, his vision blurred by tears as he laughed, which caused him to lose his footing and take a tumble down the hill near Hagrid’s hut and into the school pumpkin patch as he landed crookedly on his leg, breaking it in two. As they carried him to the hospital wing he couldn’t help but chuckle through the pain, remembering James’ appalled face.
He recalled his first kiss. It had been up in Gryffindor tower with a seventh year called Amanda whilst he had been 14. She was good-looking to some extent. Yes, she wore too much makeup and was not well refined but he had yet to grow into his adult figure and shed his chubby baby face so it was really his only viable option. Though even at 14 what he lacked in looks he made up for in charm. The girls had come to party with older boys in their house and he had chatted her up all night and though he felt like he hadn’t been in with a shot she had kissed him. It was awkward and sloppy and though she didn’t seem at all impressed it had been the only thing he and James had talked about for a week. He had even yielded talking about Lily they were that enthralled. Of course, since then Sirius had refined his ‘techniques’ and had made it so there had been several ‘Amanda’s’ but he still remembered it fondly.
He thought about the time McGonagall had caught all four boys smoking. It had been his idea. An inherent muggle affair that he had become obsessed with having seen it in his muggle rock magazines. It was the epitome of cool and he had managed to get them delivered via a muggle-born in a younger year whose older brother smoked and stole cigarettes from his dad. They had been behind the greenhouses as it was the only place in the school where teachers tended not to venture. They had doled out the packet, each boy tentatively grasping one and holding it in their hands the feel of it alien in their hands. Sirius had lit them one by one and they all put them to their lips and took a drag. Peter had bowed out immediately, his technique was flawed and he felt the smoke hit the back of his throat all at once causing him to cough and splutter. Remus had taken to it immediately, he was always so good at everything it was infuriating. He took drag after drag, depleting the cigarette evenly though with a slightly distasteful face. James took one long drag and exhaled blowing smoke across the whole group but immediately stomped it out deciding it was not for him. Sirius loved it. The feel of something so inherently muggle. His mother would be so disappointed in him if she could see him then, cigarette between his fingers, one tucked behind his ear. That was until, as if she were a silent assassin, Professor McGonagall appeared from a plume of smoke with a face as shrewd as if she were sucking on a lemon. 50 points from Gryffindor each and a week’s detention. The boys had groaned and moaned at him but to Sirius, it was so worth it.
He remembered the night of Lily and James’ first date. Ever the gentleman, James had taken Lily to the Three Broomsticks. It had been agreed upon by the Marauders that it wasn’t the most ideal choice for romance but they had enjoyed themselves all the same. Remus, Sirius and Peter had enjoyed themselves even more as they sat in the corner of the pub drinking and laughing at James’ restlessness. They’d developed a drinking game. One drink for every time James blushes. One shot for every time he put his hand in his head out of embarrassment and so on…
He remembered the feeling of freedom as he and his friends ran down to the lake from their last NEWT exam, revelling in the fact that they would never have to set foot in a classroom again. They had flung themselves, fully clothed, into the Great Lake. Later joined by some classmates as they splashed and fooled around enjoying themselves. It was only as they noticed the sky turn pinky-purple and then tinge with orange that they decided to head back to the castle for dinner, arms linked around each other as they chatted about the wide world ahead as the sun dipped behind the towers and old stone.
He smiled as he looked up at that old building. As he watched the twinkle of the stars behind the orange light that glowed from every thin window on its face. But his sadness turned as he thought of those memories. As he thought about his friends and classmates. Members of the order whom he had rubbed shoulders with when they were wide-eyed and knee-high. Almost all of them were gone. Prewetts murdered. Marlene McKinnon disappeared never to be seen again. The Longbottom’s tortured to madness.
He thought of his close friends.
Wormtail. One of his closest and dearest friends. Allied with Voldemort, the darkest wizard ever known, and willing to hand over his friends to save his own skin.
Moony. Forced from pillar to post because of prejudice and bias in the wizarding community. Unable to make a living and forced to live alone from his kind and estranged from his closest friends.
Prongs. Oh, Prongs. Murdered before his time trying to defend his wife a child from an unknown evil. Fighting till the very end.
When they walked through those doors for the last time they were unable to realise what lay ahead of them. He wished he could go back there. Even walking back through those doors as a free man would be somewhat grasping at straws but it would be more than enough to make him feel human again. He wished he could go back in time, change the course of history and change all of the destruction that lay ahead of them but he couldn’t. No one could. All he had was his memories of his castle on the hill.