See The Rainbows In My Eyes

Slipping Through My Fingers

Wednesday 1st October 1975

I see the bad moon a-rising

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin'

I see bad times today

Don't go around tonight

Well it's bound to take your life

There's a bad moon on the rise

"Sirius, turn that bloody record off!" Remus whined, voice muffled as he dove farther under his sheets.

"I'm gonna use Incendio on your turntable," James threatened, reaching a hand out from behind his drawn curtains in search of his wand, knocking over books and his glasses in the process.

Peter didn't dare to object, having been a silent ghost for the past few days since he'd swallowed his Mandrake. Sirius didn't feel much pity. Let him feel bad, he's the one who screwed up.

Dancing his way to his messy drawer, Sirius shoved around clothes that were practically spilling over the edge until he found a 'clean' dress shirt. He smelled it and an odorous stench burned his nostril hairs. Sirius gagged, throwing the shirt across the room and searching James' drawers instead.

"For fucks sake, it's seven in the goddamn morning," Remus groaned as the vinyl continued to spin.

"Don't be a sour wolf Moony," Sirius joked in a babying voice.

"Go fuck yourself, Black," Remus threw, peaking his hand out just enough to flip him off.

"Gladly," he winked.

Since the beginning of term, Sirius had been marking off the days until he could finally be rid of the first exhausting month and relish in the next. October, since he was a child, had always been his favorite time of the year. Not only did it include Halloween, parties, secretive snogging, endless pranks, and the start of the Quidditch season, but it brought back fond memories of him and his brother hiding out in their gardens and eating sweets as Sirius charmed toys to float around their heads. He'd spell neon wigs onto ancient portraits, act out renaissance plays, throw a sheet over his head and pretend to be a ghost, anything possible just to hear Regulus's spilling laughs.

His entire life had been spent hiding in the shadows and waiting for his parents to whip out their wands and make him drown in his own wrenching screams, so October was his month to have a childhood, something of which he was stripped away from before he had a chance to know what it was like.

Once the other marauders had irritatedly woken up and Remus charmed the player to stop spinning, the four made their way to the ground floor, Sirius ten times more chipper than the rest. Even though there was nothing special about that day, Sirius couldn't contain his enthusiasm and cheeky grins, entering the Hall and breathing deeply as the smell of pumpkin spice and crisp fall leaves reached his nose.

"Morning McKinnon," Sirius greeted, kissing Marlene on the top of her head before seating himself.

She eyed him skeptically with a playful smirk, "What's got you all chuffed?"

"October," Sirius replied simply, the name sounding so pleasant but pleasant things never lasted long. The glorious day that Sirius had been thriving in would only crumble. At least in 1975 when they were in the midst of a war, pleasant days were always diminished.

So when Sirius reached for the coffee kettle but heard a startling cry from across the Hall, his heart dropped into his stomach. He knew that cry, it was a war cry, he hated war cries.