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November 3rd, 1959
Screeches filled Grimmauld Place on November 3rd, 1959. Screeches and cries echoed off the tall walls, as a newborn was taken into the cold arms of Walburga Black.
Her cold skin, smeared with blood, touched his small head as she gazed upon her first child; gaze as empty as her heart felt with the the babe that she’d birthed herself in her own arms.
“Sirius,” Orion Black spoke over the piercing cries, grey eyes pouring into the very same eyes that were looking back at him, crinkled as they cried. “Sirius Orion Black III. The heir to the House of Black.”
“Yes,” Walburga spoke, distantly. “Our heir.” Then, in a whisper, she added “Happy birthday, Sirius.”
And as the Canis Major constellation shone in the sky above them, the brighest star was born.
November 3rd, 1975
Sirius woke slowly, with a strange feeling as though his bed was dipping beneath him. Frowing, he opened his eyes slowly, only to be greeted with the smiling face of one James Potter hovering over him.
“Happy birthday, mate!” James cried, grin so contagious that Sirius couldn’t help but return it, even in his tired state. “16! You old git!”
“Cheers, Prongs,” Sirius grinned, waking up as James bounced on his mattress like an excited puppy. Oh, how he loved his best friend.
“Leave him alone, Prongs,” came a gravelly, half-asleep voice from the bed opposite them. Sirius felt his stomach swoop at the sound, and he didn’t even need to see the face of Remus Lupin for his own to heat up. “What bloody time is it?”
“You have to be nice to me today, Moony,” Sirius responded gleefully. “It’s my birthday.”
“Yeah, yeah.” his voice softened, and soon after it came the exhausted, scarred, and truly beautiful face of Remus Lupin through the crack in his bed curtains. His smile was warm as he fixed Sirius in place with his just so lovely eyes. Sirius thought, a bit pathetically, that he could stare at him forever. He almost didn’t even hear when he said, voice so soft, “Happy birthday, Sirius.”
Sirius’ grin was so fond. “Thanks, Moony.”
“Pete!” Sirius was brought back to reality by James; he’d momentarily forgotten of his presence on his bed after his mere moments of eye contact with Remus. Clearly, that was obvious, as James sent him a cheeky wink before launching off his bed to wake Peter up. Honestly, he was the least subtle bugger ever. “You’re the only one still asleep, come on mate, it’s Sirius day! All Marauders must be present!”
“And you know how he gets when he doesn’t get enough attention on a regular day,” Remus chimed in, voice thick with amusement. “Imagine today. Merlin bless us all.”
“Har har, Moony.” Sirius stuck his tongue out at him, which Remus returned with a lazy rude finger gesture. Sirius grinned at it; he’d never get sick of their bickering.
“Wormy, if you don’t wake up I’ll have to endure an entire day of Moony and Padfoot’s bickering without being able to tell them off and I am not physically nor mentally prepared for that.”
“Flirting, more like.” Peter grumbled into his pillow, turning over, as James tried to hide his laugh in a cough and Sirius gave him the best glare he could manage at this hour.
Peter sat up in bed, the top bunk opposite Sirius, and sent him a tired grin and threw a “Happy birthday, tosser.” over his shoulder before flopping straight back down, ignoring James’ dramatic protests, and Sirius caught Remus’ eye before they broke into a fit of laughter.
What a lovely birthday morning.
Sirius was having a perfect birthday so far. He’d received such thoughtful gifts from his friends which did not make him tear up. Then, James had almost definitely bribed the entire Gryffindor table to sing him happy birthday obnoxiously loudly, as well as every painting he walked past.
So, Sirius feeling rather content with a day that had never been a favourite of his, or one he’d had paid much to before in his loveless home. A home he was no longer plagued with, since the summer, when he’d finally left, bloody and bruised, and landed a heap on the Potter’s fancy carpet.
He could enjoy his birthday now, he supposed, away from the shackles of his parents; like any normal sixteen year old would.
But, when he said he was having a perfect birthday, there was a little voice nagging him that that was, indeed, a lie. There was just one thing missing, and that thing was now walking toward him on his way to Charms.
Sirius stiffened at the sight of his brother, who he’d last seen on that fateful night he’d ran away; watching him get tortured with a stoic expression and his cold refusal to leave with him. Regulus kept a part of Sirius in that house with him while he stayed there, a part of Sirius which felt empty and cold inside him. A part which, despite everything, he wanted back.
Regulus was in tow behind a group of Slytherins as they approached him on the other side of the corridor. They were a nasty bunch, Sirius knew, and it hurt to see Regulus trailing after them like he had no choice. It hit him again that the only thing Sirius had wanted in his life was to keep his little brother safe, and now he’d repeatedly failed just that.
Regulus was walking behind with Dorcas Meadowes, also a Slytherin, who Sirius was actually pleasantly acquainted with (mainly due to Marlene’s infatuation with her — what can he say, they’ve bonded over wanting people they can never have). At least Regulus still had some good influence in his life, he supposed.
Sirius didn’t look at him as he came nearer, but he could feel Regulus’ eyes on him. The corridor narrowed, forcing them closer, and Sirius reluctantly looked at his brother. His face was sharply cut and his eyes cold, mouth set in a firm line, until he offered Sirius something that could barely count as as smile. A ghost of it, perhaps. Something that could’ve been there, had things been different.
“Happy birthday, Sirius.” Regulus whispered as he passed him, then walked bristly on. Sirius, however, was rooted to the spot. All he could do was stare after him, mouth parted in shock, and chest aching with want for his brother to come back.
As such, Sirius’ ‘perfect’ birthday had now come to a miserable halt, as he secluded himself in the quietest area of the library he knew, where no one ever came (except maybe Moony), and cried.
His birthday was cursed after all.
“Sirius?” came a gentle, cautious voice. Sirius shamefully lifted his head from where it had been buried in his folded arms on the table. He couldn’t even bring himself to imagine the state of his hair as he brushed it from his wet eyes.
In front of him, stood Lily Evans. She looked sympathetic, if not a little confused. He supposed it wasn’t everyday you found Sirius ‘punk rock’ Black crying in the back of the library; especially surprising for someone such as Lily who still seemed to believe that Sirius had no soul outside his ego.
“Oh, hey Evans.” he said, voice weaker than he’d liked. “Sorry. Didn’t think anyone came back here.”
“They don’t, usually.” Lily said, and sat gingerly next to him. “Just me and Remus, really.”
Sirius scoffed in weak amusement. “Makes sense.”
“Why are you crying?” she asked, not unkindly. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just stupid.” Sirius said, wiping the remaining tears away with new irritation. “My brother said happy birthday to me. And now I’m crying. Pathetic, right, Evans?”
Lily paused for a moment, as if contemplating her reply, before speaking softly “No, I don’t think so.” she said. “Have I ever told you about my sister?”
“We don’t exactly have conversations, do we?” Sirius huffed. “Ones that don’t involve you telling me to piss off, I mean.”
Lily chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. But yes, I have a sister. Older. She’s a muggle. As soon as I got my letter for Hogwarts, she hated me. Always called me a freak when I showed any signs of magic. I don’t even speak to her anymore. I stopped trying to send letters in third year, and now she just ignores me at home. She hates me for being who I am, and I hate myself that I’m something she hates. Sad, isn’t it?” Lily said and Sirius offered her a teary smile.
“So, I understand what it’s like to have a complicated sibling relationship, Sirius. With a sibling who acts like they want nothing to do with you, and even if that’s not true, they’re pretty damn good at acting like it. It’s not something I would wish upon my worst enemy, and that includes you.” she gently bumped their shoulders, goading a smile from him.
“That’s some high praise from you, Evans.” Sirius attempted a smile. “And I’m sorry about your sister. It sounds like she’s jealous of you, and that’s not something you should be carrying. I’m sorry.”
Lily nodded, with a bashful smile, but kept quiet and encouraged him to continue.
He sighed. “I’m sure you’ve probably heard, it’s not exactly a secret around here, but I ran away from home this summer. Turned up at the Potter’s a bloody mess, but they took me in, of course.” he said. “I tried to get Reg to come with me, so I could protect him like I always have. When we were younger, and he would accidentally brake one of mother’s vases or say the wrong thing to father, I would protect him. And he would hate me taking the fall for it, but the truth is I would do that over and over again if it stopped him from getting hurt.”
“He would always be upset when I got hurt by our parents,” he continued. “But then on the night I left I saw him watching as they took turns to Crucio me and he just had this blank expression. And when I begged him to come with me, he refused and looked the same. That’s when I knew I’d lost him. My baby brother taken from me by the same vile house and vile parents I swore to protect him from. So, I guess, I wasn’t expecting him to wish me a happy birthday today, even though I’ve been thinking about it all day. Even if he did just whisper it in passing, away from his death eater friends, I wasn’t expecting it. And then he left, didn’t even look back. I think I just miss him.” Sirius concluded with a sniff and a voice break, looking down at his hands which had become red from wringing.
Lily’s eyes had become glassy with her own unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, Sirius.” she said “It just sounds awful. I’ve misjudged you, haven’t I?”
Sirius shrugged. “Eh, even with the tragic backstory the arrogant asshole thing is still pretty plausible.”
Lily chuckled a little. “Next thing you know I’ll be thinking Potter isn’t an arrogant toe-rag either.” she joked.
“Times really are changing, Evans.” Sirius said and Lily smiled and brought him into a tight hug. Surpised, Sirius stiffened, but soon relaxed and let a few stray tears fall onto her shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Sirius.” she said, and they hugged for a long time.
November 3rd, 1977
Sirius woke to the sunlight shining in from the frost-bitten window of his dorm.
Hazy, he shifted, and was reminded of the warm weight in the form of an arm draped over his waist and a bare chest pressed against his back.
Waking and smiling softly at the comfort, Sirius slowly turned around, careful to remain in the arms of his boyfriend, and led with his face, hand under cheek, inches away from that of a sleeping Remus Lupin.
The sunlight from the window had begun to seep its way onto his face, illuminating his light brown curls and perfect skin, bouncing off the scars which ran across it.
Sirius took a moment to lie there, as he did on his favourite mornings when he woke up before Remus, and just look at him. Not that he had any shame in ogling his boyfriend while they were awake, that much was known, but there was something about Remus that just looked so peaceful when he was asleep; chest rising at a steady rhythm, long eyelashes fluttering and features relaxed. Sirius could stare at him shamelessly for hours.
Carefully, he raised a finger to softly trace the biggest scar which ran across the length of Remus’ face. He’d almost memorised every scar on his body by now, and he loved them almost as much as he loved the man they belonged to, and he would never get sick of the sight of him. Truly a sight to behold; Remus Lupin, shirtless, in his bed, bathing in the sunlight. Sirius two years ago would’ve passed out at the prospect.
Sirius’ finger traveled to Remus’ jaw, gently tracing the chizzeled line, and up to his lips, that he never got tired of kissing.
Then Remus stirred, and brought a much larger hand up to gently curl around Sirius’ moving wrist, and pressed a tender kiss to his finger.
Remus cracked an eye open, and Sirius beamed at him. As if the sight of him woke him up completely, Remus opened his eyes fully and pressed an even softer kiss to Sirius’ lips.
“Happy birthday, love.” Remus murmured, clasping him tightly in his arms as he continued to kiss all free areas of his face.
Sirius giggled as Remus kissed his nose, eyelids, forehead before he brushed some hair out of his eyes and cupped his cheek like he was something precious.
Sirius leaned into his touch; the warmth of his hand encasing him, like a safety net he could always fall into. “Good morning, indeed.”
“Well, the special day requires special treatment.” Remus gave him the lob-sided grin which always made his stomach squirm. It must be criminal for him to look this good this early in the morning.
“That sounds promising,” Sirius breathed, mouth parting as Remus’ eyes fixed on it. “What do you have in mind, Moony?”
“Prongs and Wormtail have already gone to breakfast, right?” Remus asked, eyes not leaving his mouth.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “We only have half an hour until it ends.”
“Well, I better make your first gift quick, then.” Remus said, and before Sirius could breathe a reply he was pushed into the mattress and blessed with the best possible gift; Remus’ mouth.
Definitely a good start to his eighteenth birthday.
Sirius and Remus had made it to breakfast with barely ten minutes to spare, rushing into the Great Hall with hair dishevelled and ties undone.
James wolf-whistled as soon as he saw them. “Looks like someone had a good birthday morning, huh, Padfoot?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe, Prongs,” Sirius grinned back at him as he passed him the toast. Peter rolled his eyes and muttered something about a ‘shared dorm’, to which Sirius kissed Remus’ cheek exaggeratedly before he got swatted away.
“Happy birthday, Black!” he heard hollered across the table, to be greeted to a smirking Marlene Mckinnon. He blew her a kiss across the table, which she mimed holding to her heart.
“You’re insufferable,” Remus muttered fondly, shaking his head as he loaded his plate with as much food as would fit. Sirius just grinned at him.
“Remember the must be nice to Padfoot on his birthday rule, Moony.” he said.
“What about the must give Padfoot a blow-job on his birthday rule?” James asked with a mouth full of porridge.
“Already taken care of, Jamesey.” Sirius winked and Remus rolled his eyes even harder.
“Merlin, you don’t make this easy.” Remus complained, but still kissed his temple before eating. Sirius loved him so.
“Happy birthday, handsome.” said Mary McDonald as she slid into the empty place on Peter’s side, playfully winking at Sirius; which he, of course, returned.
“Pleasure’s all mine, McDonald.” he replied flirtily, and felt Remus put a hand on his tigh under the table - much to his satisfaction. Even the clearly empty flirting could get him riled up sometimes.
Sirius heard a throat clear from in front of them. He looked up from his food to see Professor McGonnagall looking as though she was fighting a smile.
“Morning, Minnie!” Sirius chirped, a sentiment which was repeated by all three other marauders. Then she looked like she was trying not to roll her eyes as well as smile.
“Yes, good morning, boys.” she replied “Just reminding you of our extra Transfiguration lesson scheduled tomorrow, which I’m sure the four of you will so conveniently forget.”
“How little you think of us, Minnie,” James responded with a contagious grin. “We’d love nothing more than to spend an extra lesson with you.”
McGonnagall sighed, gaze shifting to Remus by Sirius’ side. “I’m trusting you to get them there, Mr Lupin.” she said.
Remus gave her a small salute. “No problem, Professor.” His bloody innocent act drove Sirius up the wall sometimes (and also made him incredibly aroused).
Just as McGonagall turned to leave, she looked back at them. “Happy birthday, Sirius.” she said, a smile ghosting her lips, and Sirius’ face split into a grin; happiness radiating off of him.
November 3rd, 1980
Sirius was stood, wand bared, feet firmly planted one in front of the other, and face set.
He was on another Order mission - the thing taking up all of his time recently - in a war they were losing.
Sirius hadn't given up hope yet, though. He faught within an inch of his life everytime he had to, as did the rest of the Order. Despite some devestating losses already, they continued. At the moment, Sirius’ heart was taking the hits of Remus barely being at home, and not telling him where he was when he wasn’t. He felt a little hammer chipping away at him each time he did, but he clung to Remus like he was his lifeline. He would not let this war tear them apart, despite the snarky voice of his mother in the back of his head telling him to.
So, Sirius was stood in Knockturn Ally, waiting for the latest Death Eater attack, and saying a little prayer in his head as he did everytime: that it wasn’t his brother he was fighting under those masks.
Sirius glanced to James beside him, who nodded at him, as fearless as ever, and ever the grounding presence Sirius needed beside him. Then he turned to Peter on his right, who didn’t look back, and whose hand shook as he grasped his wand in it. The void of Remus was gaping, but Sirius faught so he could go home to him; wherever he may be.
Three Death Eaters materialised from black spoke, and Sirius jumped into action, not wasting a second. He heard Mad-Eye Moody come up from behind him, slamming his stick on the ground as he walked; his limping leg carrying him as fast it he pushed it.
“Happy birthday, kid.” he grunted, before cursing a masked Death Eater, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile before he did the same.
Hours later, Sirius came back to the Potter’s home instead of his own, after painfully noticing Remus’ absence from their post-attack Order meeting, confirming he was not yet home, and Sirius couldn’t face that empty house quite yet. A small part of him thought that Remus might’ve come home for his birthday, but he knew the war wasn’t that giving.
“It’s a bit of a mess, I’ll warn you.” James said as they both shrugged their shoes off by the door. “Harry’s been a little bugger lately, as much as I love him.”
“Takes after his dad, then.” Sirius retorted and James let out an amused huff before leading him to the kitchen, where Lily was stood facing the counter, bouncing a just over three-month old Harry on her hip.
“Home, love.” James announced as Lily turned “Sirius is staying for dinner.”
Lily beamed at him. “Well, the least we could do is give you a good birthday dinner.” she said, then looked at Harry just as Sirius turned his attention to his Godson. “Can you tell Sirius happy birthday, Harry? Say happy birthday, Sirius!”
“Hap’ burf’ay Si’us.” is more what it sounded like, but Sirius’ heart absolutely swelled. God, he loved this kid.
“Well, thanks, Prongslet.” he cooed, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, as he took his Godson into his own arms. Lily and James just watched them with smiles. “Aren’t you just the best little guy ever, huh? Yes you are!”
Harry giggled, chubby cheeks creasing, and made grabby hands for Sirius’ hair. He’d barely had the time or energy to trim it lately, and it was something Moony always did - just how he liked it, so it had grown past its usual length. But, surprising even himself, Sirius didn’t mind letting Harry play with and tug at his hair as much as he liked. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his Godson, he supposed.
Sirius was suddenly brought back to his birthday a year prior, which he’d spent in this very same house, before Harry was born. He missed him even thinking back to before he existed.
A year earlier, Lily was freshly pregnant, with James a blubbering mess. Remus was with him, holding his hand under the table. Peter was there too, who they kept seeing less and less of these days. Marlene, Mary and Dorcas were there too - all of them still fighting ruthlessly in the Order, but there was little time of social catch-ups left now.
And, with a heavy heart, Sirius thought about how Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were there. Smiling, welcoming as they always were, over the moon with the grandchild they were never able to meet.
Sirius thought about how Fleamont had embraced him as soon as he’d entered, bringing him into a hug and saying “Happy birthday, son.” — just like he had even before Sirius had lived with them.
Euphemia had hugged him next, squeezing him tight enough to remove the breath from him, but he didn’t mind one bit. He took in every second of the motherly love she’d always gave him, when his own mother didn’t, like it came as a second nature to her. To love, to be a mother — the mother he never had, as she whispered “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” in his ear.
This year, Lily cooked them a delicious meal, and over it his best friends relayed some of their favourite memories of Sirius, whose heart squeezed everytime Remus’ name was mentioned, but smiled nonetheless and enjoyed the time he had with the family he’d been so lucky to find, and sent a prayer to a God he didn’t believe in that it would never end.
November 3rd, 1981
Sirius watched as the sun rose above the grey, crashing sea - which he’d stared out at everyday for the past three days. Three days of bitter torture, suffocating heart break and a betrayal which continued to gnaw at him.
Three days of replaying his life’s worst memories on a horrifying reel. James’ lifeless body, Harry’s cries, Regulus’ marked arm, Remus’ face after a fight, Peter’s smirk at him when Sirius realised what he’d done.
Three days of torture. Three days which the rest of his life was going to look like, if he survived it.
Sirius watched as the sun rose. It seeped through the bars enclosing him, shining on his gaunt face. He stared right back at it, unblinking, and gathered his knees up into his chest.
“Happy birthday, Sirius.” he whispered, when the Dementors came to greet him.
November 3rd, 1996
The wind blew cold on the crisp Autumn morning of early November. Remus wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, fingertips slowly turning blue.
He knelt down, knees near buckling, and placed a flower on the grave of Sirius Black.
He stared at his name, and the grave he knew was empty. His grave was in Godric’s Hollow, right next to James and Lily’s, just like he would’ve wanted. So now, when Remus could bring himself to go there, he wasn’t only visiting the grave of his closest friends, but now of the love of his life too. War never had been kind to them, had it?
Just as the first tear fell, Remus heard the orange leaves on the floor crunch under someone’s approaching feet. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
“Hello, Harry.” Remus spoke softly, afraid his voice may break or not come out at all.
“Remus,” Harry greeted, spending a minute at his parent’s grave before kneeling next to Remus.
“It’s not fair,” Harry whispered. “They’re all gone. You’re the only one left.”
Remus’ vision blurred, images of the youth he’d been so fortunate to live flashing through his mind. It hurt so much now it was over, that he almost wished it had never happened at all. Almost. But when he looked at the name on the grave in front of him, and all of the love and memories which came with that name, he knew he could never regret that. Not for a moment.
“I am,” he said “But they would want me to be here. They’d want you to have someone. You were the most important thing to them, Harry.”
Harry said nothing for a moment. He looked at Sirius’ grave. “You loved him.” he said, simply.
Remus smiled “I did.” So much.
“I’m sorry.” Harry said. It hung in the air; it was all that needed to be said. They both basked in their miserable reality, before Remus patted Harry’s shoulder comfortingly and he stood.
“I’ll meet you back at the Burrow, Harry.” he said. “You go have fun. It’s going to be a difficult enough day as it is, and Sirius would scold us for wallowing.”
“You’re right. You’ll come, though?” Harry asked, cheeks stained with tears and a glint of hope in his eyes. His eyes which were so like Lily’s, sometimes it hurt Remus to look at them.
“Yes,” he smiled softly. “Of course.”
Harry smiled back, then stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and left the graveyard. Remus stayed.
“Happy birthday, Sirius.” he said, kissing his fingers then pressing them to name of the man he loved, engraved in the stone. He took a moment, remembered the love he’d felt on this day so many times. Then, he left, too.