The Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black

Ch1: Marauding Memories

CH 1: Marauding Memories

Disclaimer: All rights, characters and names belong to Rowling, I Amalynne O'hara own nothing, sadly.

N/A: Once you get past the intro it's swift reading, so fear not dear reader.

"You might think of Harry," said Dumbledore, "When you look through Sirius' things. He'd treasure a memory of his godfather. You will look won't you Remus and find something for the boy, something for yourself too perhaps?"

Remus smiled slightly, "Of course Albus. Sentiment really wasn't one of Padfoot's traits, but I'll look nonetheless."

"Good man," Dumbledore pat Remus on the shoulder. "I doubt the Marauders would leave their legacy unknown, Sirius was never one to disappoint... you'll find something Moony my lad," Dumbledore winked, and then turned the brass doorknob, exiting Grimmauld place.

Something for Harry, something that had belonged to Sirius? Remus could hardly think what this could be. Whatever it was, it could only be found here in this most ancient house of Black. Mrs. Black had been silenced in the hall and Kreacher had left, most undoubtedly, for the Malfoy's, his new masters. An eerie silence crept from the floorboards and the rafters. A chilly fear began to slip back into #12's rooms, that lonely darkness had returned. Abandoned and masterless, this house now seemed as it was before Sirius had returned.

Remus stood alone in the stairwell, feeling these intimidating new pressures of the house, recalling Sirius' loathing for it. Buckbeak screeched from upstairs and the silence was broken. Removing himself from his daze, Remus made his way up the stairs to the hippogriff's room. He pacified the beast with a bounty of dead rats, and then began looking through the drawers in a vanity on the opposite wall.

Articles of old clothing, a number of odorous mothballs, and some eau de toilette were found in the first drawer, disappointing Remus greatly. He progressed to the second and third, discovering more amounts of clothing and a collection of chocolate frog cards. He made a mental note to give them to Ron on their next meeting. Coming to the fourth and final drawer, Remus was pleased to find something of greater interest, newspaper clippings form the Daily Prophet, neatly placed in a wooden box. Some articles dated back fifteen and sixteen years before, to the early years of Voldemort's fall. Remus was quite intrigued, but he wasn't sure they would be a suitable enough memory for Harry, so delved deeper.

Under the wooden box lay a mirror, Harry had the other one, Remus remembered, and set it aside as something of a keepsake. Some unmatched socks and Bertti Botts' Beans wrappers later, Remus fingered a small box in the back of the drawer. It looked as if it could hold no more than a ring, hinged in wood, with black paint chipping on the corners. A single golden S was etched on the top, and a metal clasp kept the box shut, in an elaborate B. Remus shook it, no sound, then cautiously lifted the latch. The little box appeared empty, until it began to expand and grow in his hands. It had soon morphed into a giant chest, now heavy and painful on Remus' lap. It took great effort to pull the chest off him, but when he did, he found it full and overflowing with treasures from the past.

Treasure such as: dress robes from seventh year, a crimson and gold tie dotted with lipstick (Remus shook his head humorously at this), an innocent looking pocket comb that folded into a knife, a yellowing pearl strand (Remus recalled that Sirius gave this to every girl he dated for a time, then asked for it back upon a breakup), and a folded leaflet that read the word Marauders. Remus opened it only to find a ticktacktoe game between James and Sirius, in which Prongs had suffered considerable losses. Remus could hardly understand why anyone would keep such a frivolous item, so tossed it aside in a growing pile on the floor. He glanced away, but then quickly glanced back. A word had caught his eye on the supposed ticktacktoe game, a particularly naughty swear word.