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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
a friend of the devil
"I CAN'T BELIEVE you convinced Mia to let you have a New Year's party!" Sirius exclaimed as he lifted jugs of Blishen's Firewhiskey into the ballroom Potter Manor. "When I tried, she just gave me a look and I gave up immediately."
"Only took three straight weeks of begging," James grumbled as he carried two more in after Sirius. "They're staying at Bathilda's in Godric's Hollow, been meaning to visit for a while anyway."
Sirius's smile was jaunty as he looked over at Betty Lupin, who was sitting on one of the Potter's various chaise lounge chairs — her's being quite ornate and a deep red with gold accenting — that were pushed up to the walls. He set down the drinks for later that night and walked over to Betty, only to see a familiar book in hand.
"Ah, L'Etranger," Sirius said with a spark in his eye, "c'est un livre déroutant, non?"
"What?" Betty asked with a bewildered expression as she looked up at him.
"Pardon my French, but I asked if it's a confusing book," Sirius replied cheekily.
"Oh shut it," Betty grumbled as she turned back to the small novel in hand.
"What're you reading?" someone asked as they walked over gruffly. They both turned around to see James Potter approaching the pair of them. Betty's face formed a half happy half smile at the sight of the bespeckled boy approaching them.
"The Stranger," she revealed as she showed him the book cover, "by Albert Camus."
"Is he French?" James asked as he stopped in front of her and sat down on the end of the chaise that she was sitting on.
Sirius looked over his shoulder and caught Remus's eye as they shared a bewildered look at James's action. Sure, he'd been warming up to her, but James didn't care about books or French authors and probably wouldn't even know what a French name sounded like. At least, not enough to sit down and strike up a conversation.
"Yes he is!" Betty exclaimed as she beamed — a breathless excitement filling her voice, "the book was originally in French and called L'Étranger — but I think you could've gathered that from Sirius — and it was published in the 40s."
"What's it about?" he asked as he shifted so he could see the book cover a bit better.
"Well . . . uh . . . it's kind of hard to explain," she mumbled as she looked over the text again, "it's about this man named Mersault and his mother died, but he didn't really feel it, and then he made new friends and now I think he's on trial for murder."
