Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Forty Seven: Let's Just Call It A Day

"He had to do some stuff with Remus, I think." Sirius lied, knowing very well he was off somewhere either throwing up or feeling bad about upsetting Freya.

James clapped Sirius on the shoulder as he passed him. "It'll just be the both of us then."

"Yeah." A smile that was not all true landed on Sirius's mouth while he followed James outside their dorm.

As they bound down the steps, James could not help his rant continue. "Honestly, I thought Freya was getting better, almost human-like. I get she's under a lot of stress, but Merlin, a little thank you would be nice. I don't know how you put up with her for so long."

"Yeah, well, she's not all bad." There was a feeling in Sirius's chest that made him feel a little defensive over the curly-haired witch. Not that Sirius was overly fond of her, it's just there were worse people out there, of course, nothing more.

James hopped off on the last step as they entered the common room. "I'll have to believe you because I quit. She's absolutely mental—"

"Toad." From the couch, Lily Evans gave them both a nasty look and stood up from her spot with her charms book in hand.

Not surprised or offended at this point, James tilted his head as he watched her collect her items. "Is that for you or me this time?"

"Who knows?" Sirius prayed she would not approach them.

His prayers remained unanswered as she pointedly walked past them with a heavy glare straight at him. "Glad to see your hangover is gone."

A pinch formed between James's brows, and his eyes trailed after her in confusion as she walked away. "Why would you be hungover?"

Tossing his hand in a casual gesture, Sirius brushed off her comment. "I think she's confusing me with someone else."

James stared at Sirius for a moment, expressionless. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, I—" Opening his mouth, he knew by the way James tilted his head the jig was up. A small laugh left Sirius's chest, and he rest a hand on James's shoulder. "Well, funny story—"

"Sirius, again, mate?" James whined.

"What?" Sirius tried to keep an upbeat grin, but he could tell James's patience was thin.

Letting a breath out through his nose, James tilted his head at the door of the common room. "Come on."

***

Being several dozen feet in the air was something that greatly soothed James Potter. It felt crisper, colors more vibrant, and he liked that he wasn't the only one who had to squint every now and then to see. Of course, he now always wore his goggles that had the exact same lenses as his usual glasses, but they did not fall off. His mother had grown very tired in his fourth year of having to buy him new glasses because they either got broken or entirely blown off his face every time he played Quidditch.

In the beginning, James was in complete denial about his worsening vision. Everyone saw people blurry at a certain distance, and he was naturally talented in most of his classes, so what did it matter if he saw the board or not? However, if there was one thing James took seriously it was Quidditch. As the best seeker Gryffindor has ever seen(Peter had heavily encouraged that title), James was more than a little upset when his vision started to affect his team's winning streak. And a little more upset when he got clobbered by a Bludger, (but in his opinion, it would have been well worth it had he actually managed to catch the Golden Snitch).

After a while, James finally started to embrace the glasses, amazed about how people just managed to see with this clarity at all times, and a bit embarrassed for the seekers in opposing houses since they were beaten by a boy with myopia.

Needless to say, Quidditch had been very important to James when it came to accepting things; it was where he felt the most level-headed. Even so, he could not help, but have a little contempt in his voice as he smacked the Quaffle back at Sirius. "You know, when people start things off with "funny story" other people typically expect an actually funny story, not just you being a twat."

"Noted." Sirius hit the ball to James with his bat.

"What are you going to do?" A small grunt left James as he threw his arm out to reach the ball. "Please don't bake another cake."

This time Sirius caught the ball and held it on his side. "I learned my lesson the last time."

"So, you can learn?" James grinned as Sirius pouted. Then movement at the corner of the field caught his eye, and he saw a small group of students with their gear on. "No, I'm not moving. I refuse."

Twisting his body back, Sirius squinted down at the group; he couldn't make out much, but he could tell they weren't in proper uniform, and no one had the pitch booked, so they were most likely there for fun. "We can probably just ignore them."

"What are you going to do about Freya?" James questioned, relaxing on his broomstick a bit.

"I don't know, talk to her."

A brow raised, the messy-haired boy looked at his best friend. "You mean apologize."

"Explain myself." Sirius shrugged. "Or do something to make it up."

"Please do not do that to that poor girl." James begged, having seen too many of these "make-up surprises." Out of all of them, the only ones ever properly accepted were the ones towards Peter (even so, it was because Peter looked up to Sirius so hard).

Hand-tossed up, Sirius exclaimed. "What happened to her being mean?"

"She was upset! Of course, she's going to be mean." Regretfully, James thought of this morning; he shouldn't have snapped. Fingers running through his hair, he bit his lip, then noticed something in the distance. "DIVE!"

Anyone Quidditch player worth their salt knows better to question a call. In the blink of an eye, Sirius dives low, turning his head as a burst of air brushes past his face. Backhanded, James hit the ball with his bat and sent it flying to the other side of the field. "Got it!"

Grey eyes followed the ball to the other group, then squinted as he tried to recognize one of them. James spoke in the empty air. "That your brother?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied distractedly, swearing he felt his brother's harsh glare on him. He shook off the feeling and turned to James. "What about a song—"

A hard push sent Sirius swishing sideways, and the thick leather ball narrowly avoided his body. "Merlin!" James breathed and looked at his friend, then at the other small group of Slytherins across the field, then back at his friend. Nostrils flared, and head cocked to the side, Sirius stared down at one of the players. "Padfoot—" Before the brunette boy could finish, Sirius shot forward, heading straight for the Slytherin seeker. "Pads!" For a second, James watched Sirius chase after his younger brother. Eyes wide, James saw Sirius smash into his brother, and his brother reeled back only to return the favor. "Oi! Oi!"