The Marauders: Year Five #Wattys2017

The Sentencing of Severus Snape

Sirius put his arm around James. "We'll get him, Prongsie. We'll teach that bastard what's what." He squeezed James's shoulder. "I promise you. I won't rest 'til he's been taught a lesson."

James smiled - the camaraderie of this statement meant more to him than anything Sirius Black would do to Severus Snape. He thumped Sirius on the back in appreciation.

Sirius looked over at him. "I mean it, Potter. I'll fuck up anybody that hurts you. That goes for all you guys. I'll fuck up anybody that lays a finger on any of you lot. You're my mates. I love you guys."

Remus laughed, "I knew I wasn't your only boyfriend."

Peter laughed at this but James looked confused. Sirius grinned, "Don't look like you dunno about us, love, you'll hurt my feelings - and the cat's out of the bag now anyway." He grabbed James 'round the neck, tugged him in and kissed his forehead.

"Get off me," James said, laughing as he pushed Sirius off.

The sentencing of Severus Snape was not the only important parchment flying by owl that night. As the hours ticked on and the night switched from the night before into actual Christmas, another owl circled over rough seas and came to land in the window of an old, brine-covered armory that stood sentinel, jagged and rough-hewn against the night sky. The moon seemed to quiver behind dark figures that passed by the window the owl hopped through, onto a desk. He dropped his letter and flew away, eager to escape the shadows and heavy heartedness that filled the walls.

The man behind the desk lifted the parchment with shaking hands. He was on his last week on shift as guard of the prison Azkaban, and he was thankful for it. He was beginning to lose his mind as much as the prisoners were. The dementors swarming the halls and skies were too much to bear before - but since August, when Harold Minchum had called for double the security over the island... well, it had been invariable hell for any whose assignment was to take shift as guard.

But it was the Minister himself who'd sent the parchment and, for the guard at least, the news was good.

And it came with a port key.

Christmas morning came and Sirius rolled over in his bed to find Remus had snuck in next to him, despite having a perfectly good bed of his own that Charlus had magicked into the room. It had gone mostly untouched just as Sirius's bed at school did.

"Moony," he hissed, nudging Remus in the legs. "Oi... Moonshine. Wake up you dolt, it's Christmas."

Sirius grinned and crawled out of bed, slipping out from under the covers onto icy-cold floor and scrambled to his bag, which he opened up and rooted about in. The bag had the extendable charm on it, of course, so it held a bit more than one would expect, and he fished about up to his shoulder 'til he found the guitar James had given him for his birthday, the strings squealing as his hand slid along the neck of it.

Remus stirred, "It's cold, where'd you go, you're my sleeping furnace."

"I'm coming," Sirius said as he crept back over to the bed and climbed aboard, crossing his legs so he was cradling the guitar with them, the body of it leaning against his thigh, wrapping his arm 'round the wood torso of the thing. He cleared his throat and positioned his fingers. He'd been practicing with it in secret for the past nearly two months now and though he hadn't gottentoo far with it, he'd learned a couple of chords and he'd messed about til he'd come up with a bit of a tune and now he was ready to make his debut. "Wake up properly, I've done something for you."