GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Thirty: Verticordious)

Verticordious: to turn the heard from evil.

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Sirius Black was a bloody hero. 

The entire Gryffindor house knew it. He could hardly go three paces without another hearty clap on the back from another grinning student who'd had a little too much to drink. The whole common room was decked out with so much red and gold that by the time Sirius made it back from Dumbledore's office, he could hardly see for lions and mini renditions of farmhouses exploding on banners and posters and, in one case, spray painted onto the wall above the fireplace.

As it turned out, the one exception to the law of physics stating that nothing could travel faster than light was gossip. Everyone, it seemed, had heard what went down at Logan Mitchell's farm, and everyone had an opinion to give, or a toast to announce, or a drink to give up. He was glad Alex wasn't there, she would have almost certainly been dragged into the party as well and, on her high or off it, that would inevitably end badly for someone.

"Look at this, Lils!"

Sirius sighed as Marlene McKinnon plopped onto the settee next to where he was tearing up a newspaper to stoke the fire unnecessarily. Marlene was loud, boisterous, confident, flamboyant, all the things that would usually have made her Sirius' ideal friend. More and more now, however, he found himself falling into a pit of contemplative thought. The distance from his parents afforded him a chance to actually think about the darkness knawing at the wizarding world without feeling like he was wasting his precious seconds outside of its reach.

"Sirius Black is moping." Marlene announced, "In other news: Rome has fallen and Voldemort sent me an early Valentines day card."

Lily fell into the armchair opposite them with a smile, "He's not moping, Mar. I've seen that face before. He's got a crush."

"I was thinking about the Death Eaters that were at Mitchell's farm." Sirius corrected with an obligatory eye roll.

Marlene shrugged, "Each to their own, I guess."

"Alas, Rodolphus Lestrange is already engaged to my cousin. Ours is a forbidden love." Sirius declared dramatically, "It's a true Shakespearean tragedy."

"I'm sure." Lily acknowledged blandly, "So what're you pouting about, Black?"

Sirius took a second to reply, tearing the face of the new Minister for Magic off the third page of the Daily Prophet- right after the article about some Quidditch player's wedding to a muggle- and holding it close to the flames to watch the grey-ish material crack and blacken around the edges, "We didn't catch the Death Eaters. They got away. All we accomplished was some property damage. We shouldn't be celebrating." 

"I think we need to." Lily said gently, with a meaningful glance at Marlene, "You proved that we could fight back. We can win. People need that."

Sirius growled habitually, "I don't need it. I need to find my cousin and punch her in the face."

"Well I do." Marlene announced unexpectedly, "I just got an owl from my dad. They lost contact with my brother. He was hiding from the Death Eaters in Wales, if he could get to Holyhead, there would be a portkey to get him out of the country. He made the checkpoint in Barry, but then they lost him. So I need this party. I need to believe that we can win. I need to see that those arseholes are mortal. And I need to get drunk and forget that I'm just waiting for the next owl telling me they found his body."

That stopped Sirius. He stared at Marlene, wordless. What do you say to something like that? What do you say when you know that it could have been your mother who was attacking and murdering your friends' family members? What can you possibly say to make the hurt go away?