Come Together (Sirius Black X Reader)

The Who

Underage drinking is bad but this is the 70s

Your POV

I was studying once again in the library in a corner with a candle that gave a nice light. Over the course of a few weeks, much has happened and it's been hectic. I can admit it's kind of better, only a little better, than being alone and bored.

It has been a distraction, I can't seem to focus on any of my studies, and my grades are slipping. I grumble lowly as I search the transfiguration book for what I need for the third time and it still didn't have it.

I look up when I hear someone coming over to see that it is once again Remus. "I am going to try this again," He holds his hands up in surrender, "I am pretty good at transfiguration." He says, taking a seat slowly.

I sigh a little, "you really just want to be friends?" I eye him as he nods, "No ulterior motives?"

"No," He sighs a bit and runs a hand through his hair, "I just, I infected you, I can't leave it like that."

I study the scars that dot his face and the earnest soft way about him. I turn my notes around to him, "all I could think about during the lesson today was my newest bout of detention and I wrote down all the notes, but don't understand a thing I wrote."

He smiles a little, before taking the notes and looking at them.

"So," He says later when he is walking me back to the Slytherin common room, "if you don't mind me asking, what, what happened with you and Sirius?"

I breathe, "I don't know," I try to think back to pinpoint the exact time we may have fought or something but nothing comes to mind. "when Sirius and I were kids we clung to each other, I guess that just didn't translate well. In reality, I think that is a question for him. He stopped talking to me first." I hold my head up defiantly.

Xxx

"Come together, right now, over me," I murmur to myself as I push snow off to the side.

"You still listen to the Beatles?" I look over, Sirius didn't look mad or upset, just impassive.

I step gingerly with my words, "Of course," I clear my throat, "you know they've always been my favorite."

He seems to ponder a moment and scoops up some more snow, "have you heard that album they only released in America in 1970? I didn't even know it existed."

I stop shoveling and look at him, curiosity overflowing, "um, I don't really get let out of the house anymore," He looks at me with this odd, unsure look on his face, "I still just have the one Beatles record." The one Andromeda gave us when we were ten and he let me keep because it was my birthday.

He nods slowly and doesn't say anything, just continues to shovel.

The next day, I head for my seat in detention to find an 8-track tape waiting for me. It's the Beatles one Sirius was talking about with a note in fancy writing, "just don't let it eat my tape." I smile slightly and glance at him, but he is focused on Binns.

That night, I pull the 8-track player that I somehow rigged with magic onto my bed and shut the curtains, put a silencing charm on them. (the author says stuff like that is possible for moments like these.)

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder.

- Hey Jude, The Beatles, Hey Jude 1970

Sirius POV

"Delivery for you Padfoot," Moony holds my 8-track out to me with another below it, Aerosmith.