Chapter Seven- Three's a Crowd

                                    

                                          


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"Where is Remus?" Sirius shouted as the three friends left their Charms class. Smoke literally poured out of his ears thanks to Peter accidentally swapping the wrong goblets at breakfast. At least it had better have been an accident. It was supposed to be Lily walking around with steam coming out of her ears. 
Stupid bloody Lily Evans, who keeps bloody reminding me not to badger bloody Remus when he finally bloody returns--if he ever does! But nooooo, because Peter is incompetent, it was me with smoke coming out of my ears! Sirius thought angrily to himself. 
"Relax, Sirius. You're making smoke come out of your ears," James laughed, walking backwards in front of Sirius so he could 'enjoy the show.' The only reason Sirius didn't hex him was that he knew, deep down, his mate was worried too. Also, he needed James to practice with him for tryouts in a few weeks.
"I'm sorry--" Peter began.
"You're banned from talking, Pettigrew. Don't say a word until I tell you to!" Sirius cut him off.
Peter looked to James for help but just got a shrug in response. Sirius knew neither Peter nor James had been all that nice to Peter since arriving at Hogwarts. But when Remus didn't appear by the time the sorting was over all their moods went downhill rapidly.
"Look, Professor McGonagal said it was a family emergency. He's not even the only student four days late," James pointed out. Potter kept his voice calm, wisely realizing teasing Sirius at the moment may just lead to unfortunate consequences.
"Yeah, because the other kid's parents were murdered by Voldemort!" Sirius replied scathingly, acknowledging briefly that he maybe wasn't even being nice to James either. 'At least Potter can take it without being a little wuss about it' Sirius silently grumbled to himself. 
"Well, he's returning today, so we'll just ask him. But come on, Sirius, you haven't practiced once for tryouts. Even with all of my talent, I still need to practice," James pleaded. 
Sirius agreed, maybe mentioning where James could shove his talent first, but at least he agreed. The Black heir knew he should have been practicing since students had very little free time to use the brooms for practice before tryouts. Each slot of time was designated by year and house. However, because Sirius...well, no, because of Remus, or, more accurately, the lack of him, Sirius had missed the last three time slots.
"Potter, Black, Pettigrew!" Patricia shouted. The older student was walking with Frank who she waved ahead of her, the prefect shooting her a weary look before he continued across the upper landing and was soon out of sight. Patricia grinned at them and winked, tossing her bag over her shoulder. She then glanced around before sliding down the banister of the steps leading to the third floor. Plans about Quidditch practice momentarily forgotten, the three of them turned to Patricia, who successfully landed and waved them over. "How are the three wee slow-seconds doing?" 
James rolled his eyes at her. She seemed to think that because she couldn't call them "icky firsties,'' which was such a foolish nickname, that she had to come up with something better.
"Hello, lying mentor," the Black heir replied pleasantly. With a sharp look at Sirius, she turned to ruffle James' hair, who batted her away with a mutter of a disgruntled complaint.
"Now that's not nice, Black. Maybe your cousin was right about you needing to learn manners," she taunted. Sirius felt his cheeks grow hot, which made Patricia snicker.
"Patricia, you shouldn't tease him about that," James spoke up quickly.
"Yes, it's bad enough that all the Slytherins know," Sirius groaned loudly, truly loathing all the snakes because of it.