Glass Houses

Chapter eight

Sirius squeezed his eyes closed as he yawned, resisting the urge to stretch his arms out wide, only because he knew that he would hit James in the face. They had woken up before the sun, which Sirius found personally offensive, and by the droopy eyed transfers surrounding him, he wasn't the only one feeling the effects.

Moony on the other hand, stood before them, leaning on a table that was covered with large guns, black and loaded. His eyes were bright, and he looked at them with amusement.

"If you lot want to get any closer to these, you'll have to wake up a bit more," he said, placing his hand on one of the guns like it was a dog. "This is your first lesson today. Learning how to shoot. Your second lesson will be learning how to fight, how to throw a good punch."

Sirius blinked, barely registering the words through the sleep haze. At that moment, he didn't think he could throw a ball, let alone a punch. The only time Sirius had punched anyone was when he was twelve years old. He was defending Regulus of course, because most of the stupid things Sirius did were for his brother.

"This marks the first stage of your training," Moony continued, "You'll begin with physical training, followed with emotional, and last of all, mental."

"Getting up at this time is mental," James murmered beside Sirius, who covered his laugh with a small cough.

"I think you'll all find physical to be the easiest of the three," Moony said, pushing himself off the table. "You might not agree with me now, but you'll be wishing you were here when you begin mental training."

Sirius ran a hand over his face, too tired to really think about what Moony's words meant.

"After each stage is finished, you all know that some of you will be cut. Which is why paying attention to every word I say James, would be useful."

James, who's head was nodding towards the ground snapped to attention immediately, looking sheepish.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, wincing.

Moony rolled his eyes, "You're about to handle a fire arm, try and act like it?"

James nodded and Sirius laughed silently, stopping when an elbow landed into his side.

* * * * * *

The unfamiliar weight of the gun in his hands was uncomfortable at first, but Sirius soon found that it rested quite nicely on his shoulder. Every time he closed one eye to shoot at the target, a thrill ran through his body, and even if he didn't hit the target, he felt powerful with the gun in his hands.

James was a natural. Of course he was. But Sirius wondered how his parents would react to seeing their son shoot something made only for the purpose of violence. Every time he sneaked a look at James' face, he only saw concentration, no guilt or hesitancy. Which he supposed was a sign that the boy really did belong in Dauntless. No amity should be able to wield a gun like it was an extension of their arm.

Sirius felt something zoom past him, and he flinched, looking to his other side and somehow not surprised to see Peter, bright red and clutching the gun to his chest.

"I'm so sorry Sirius!" he exclaimed, "I don't know what happened! I think I must've-"

"Peter calm down," Sirius said, trying to do the same to his frantically beating heart. "I'm okay. No blood no foul all right?" he said, cracking a grin that felt only a little strained.

Peter blinked, his guilty eyes wide, "Are you sure?"

Sirius laughed, "Yeah I'm sure."

The boy nodded, and Sirius turned back to his own target, aiming and shooting, his face splitting into a grin when the bullet hit the middle.