01. when I'm with you, all my brothers, [closed]

[bespectacle]

CHARACTERS: Harry Potter, Sirius Black, & Remus Lupin
LOCATION: Oxygen Garden, 1 of the floors, I'm bad at remembering which
WARNINGS: PG-13 possibly for language and talk of violent events
SUMMARY: Harry hangs out with his uncles
NOTES: Everything is awesome.


[Harry has his hands clamped over his ears, his face twisted up into a slight but prolonged wince. He looks up in full expectation to find his companions in the same state. He had thought it might be less disruptive to have the Sneakoscope out here instead of in a lounge or his room or in Medbay fresh out of his locker, but somehow, the sweet quiet of the flora and humming insects makes it worse.

It looks like a glass top, but it's been shrilling and whirling and flashing obnoxious lights for two consecutive Jumps at this point. No sign of stopping.]

If you'd do the honors, [he says, to both of them-- either of them. Destroy it-- fix it. Decide what to do with it. He hadn't been very specific in his comms, only explaining that the thing was driving him starkers.] Then I reckon we can go about the business of riding brooms and wizard candy and the more important stuff on our docket.

Comments

jumps on this first

[doggedly]

[Sirius--with his fingers in his ears, and his face screwed up in a pained scowl, just as twisted as Harry's, and, presumably, Remus'--although Remus is often zen and unbothered by excessive noise (for proof, see: his success in living elbow-to-rather-noisier-elbows with Sirius Black and James Potter for seven years of his life) so perhaps his grimace isn't quite so dramatic--but Sirius' grimace is dramatic, and at Harry's indication, he grabs for his wand.]

Can I.

[Not exactly a question, more of a yes please I thought you'd never ask. He's got to speak a little louder over the shrieking of the Sneakoscope.]

I've only been around it for a few minutes now and I'm already ready to smash it to tiny bits. How have you put up with it all this time?

[The racket isn't really surprising. Space might have broken it, or cocked up the mechanics. Or this might be a genuine reaction, to all of the madness of the ship. Who can say, really, but it's not actually all that important to say.

What's important is that hanging around with Harry is not so weird as Sirius might have thought. Oh, yes, still a little weird, but. Not terrible.

He shoots a glance over at Remus, and waves his wand back and forth, like, hullo.]

Helping? Dual destruction? What d'you say?

jumps on this late

[fullmoon]

We don't have to. We could toss it in an empty room for now. It might be—

[ Useful later, he'd say, but his will to raise his voice enough to be heard over the sound of the Sneakoscope peters out before he reaches the end of the sentence. Remus has both hands over his ears, too, and one eye squinched shut like he's tasted something sour. But the eye that's still open looks fairly unbothered, yes. He's endured so much worse.

That doesn't mean he wouldn't get any enjoyment out of seeing the thing wrecked.

So he draws his wand, too, which means taking a hand off his ear. He tries covering it with his shoulder instead. He looks ridiculous, and he also looks at Harry, a questioning look to follow up on Sirius' not-quite-a-question can I. ]

If you're sure.

[bespectacle]

[Harry hesitates, visibly. And then just as visibly steels himself. Making the decision.] I'm close enough to sure, [he says.] It didn't help for the boggart. I doubt it'd do much if we got off the ship and into another one of those colonies. They seem to be a bit, um, fraught with chaos.

And people trying to wipe out our brains, [he says. The way this is written you might think that he is being mild and thoughtful about it but he actually sounds more like I'M CLOSE ENOUGH TO SURE. IT DIDN'T HELP FOR THE BOGGART. The screaming of said Sneakoscope would utterly drown out everything he's trying to respond with otherwise. His own wand isn't in evidence. It doesn't take three to destroy a small magical trinket. Not unless the Tranquility's perverted even that beyond ordinary parameters.]

Whenever you're ready, [he says, grimacing. He takes a step or two backward now for good measure.]

[doggedly]

Oh, cheers.

[For the permission, and the wipe our brains comment. Sirius rubs the flat of his hand against the top of his head a moment, as if reassuring his brain of its general safety. It flattens out his hair, which has managed to grow quite a bit longer in the past months.

And then, no hesitation or waiting any longer: he rebrandishes his wand, and grins over at Remus. Ready when you are, Mr Moony, with a Blasting Curse honed to absolute perfection.]

The old favourite, on three? Let's give old Harry the satisifaction of watching it explode-- One... two...

[And right after the three, which he leaves silent:] Confringo!

[fullmoon]

[ Remus leaves the verbalisation to Sirius—newly-developed habit, urban guerrilla warfare requiring elevated discretion, you know how it is—and resultantly most of the heavy lifting, curse-wise, but it doesn't really take two to destroy a trinket, either. Anyway, he's otherwise in sync. Two flashes of light, two explosions merged into one, and then.

Almost silence. Not quite. A sad but persistent little whining noise, instead of a scream, is still eking out of one of the larger parts of the Sneakoscope. Probably from the side that was his responsibility to obliterate.

But it's a lot better than it was. Remus opens his scrunched-up eye and unwrinkles his nose. ]

Oh. That's sort of sad.

[ It should probably be put out of its misery. But, alternatively: ]

We could show mercy. Find it a new home.

[ By finding a nook or cranny or hollowed-out wall near wherever Malfoy is staying, maybe. ]

[bespectacle]

You're beginning to make me feel bad for it, [Harry says, clustering closer to his fellows to peer down at the sad little magical contraption. It continues to toot, spiritedly, rather nobly if you think about it, despite its diminished capacity. It does sound considerably less aggravating now. Tentatively, Harry peels his hands off his ears.] I suppose it earns points for being as resilient as it is.

Were you thinking about a place in particular? [It's obvious that the young Auror thinks that Remus must be joking. He elevates an eyebrow and smiles. If it's a joke, he expects a good punchline. If not, a sound or at least interesting plan. If Snape were here, he'd probably be raining on all our collective parade, but in his absence, the Garden merely continues to suffer a bunch of silly boy wizard noise. Some of the bugs are going away, even, but fortunately none of the Agriculture workers are drawing nearer.]

What do you think, Uncle Sirius? [There's a sidelong grin at the other wizard, mischief creasing Harry's eyes behind his spectacles.]

[doggedly]

[Sirius--who has no pity or sympathy for irritating noisemakers, who only seeks their destruction and silencing--grins broadly at their handiwork. Ten points to Gryffindor.]

Job well done, I think, personally.

[Also yes: near Malfoy, he agrees without knowing that he's agreeing, and in fact without reading Remus' mind. Or near Snivellus-- or at least that's the thought that he begins to have until Harry utters the 'Uncle Sirius' line and then he looks around, distracted.

What. Uncle. Right. More amused than indignant--time is mental--he looks back to the rubbishy Sneakascope.]

Well, I dunno, Godson Harry. [So weird but also so funny, and anything in the name of good sound mischief--] I mean, old Professor Snape, right. He's got an interest in the Dark Arts, hasn't he. It could always find a home with him. Lodged in his wall, say, or perhaps a ceiling. Somewhere difficult to extricate. It could be, [innocent suggestion--] a fun game.

[For who, exactly, this game would be fun for, he does not say. Three guesses and the first two don't count.]

[fullmoon]

It could be, [ Remus agrees, which is a bit mismatched against his very sensible tone, which is in turn mismatched against his visible struggle not to laugh at Uncle Sirius and Godson Harry, ] if you were allowed near Severus.

[ He gestures to his own hair, in case Sirius has somehow managed to forget the trauma of losing his, and segues directly from that into removing his jumper. (No one get excited. There's a shirt underneath.) The gardens are a little warm, he runs a little hot, and they've yet been promised broom rides and sweets. ]

But you know Draco appreciates a good joke. Setting my boggart loose was—hilarious, after all, really. [ All of those words are a little muffled by wool and his tangling arms, but once his head emerges from the bottom end of the jumper, he fixes Harry with a friendly warning look. ] If you call me Uncle Remus, I'm leaving.

[bespectacle]

[Harry waves his hand.] I'm not about to lose my unc, [he clears his throat,] your company over family titles. Or whatever that is. [He pauses, his brow knitting, and then he throws a half-hearted mufflatio charm at the tooting Sneakoscope. Naturally, it does nothing. It sort of works on dogs and crows and it certainly works on people, but the little device ignores him outright.]

I think Draco would think it was funnier than Professor Snape would, [Harry decides. 'Think it was funny' is completely the wrong phrase to use, but the two other wizards no doubt know what he means. Or don't. Hard to say if he knows Draco will simply take it less seriously or personally than his erstwhile professor, or if the fact of the matter is that he'd like to run interference between his godfather and the former Death Eater-- an impulse, instinct-deep wisdom that's unexpectedly in line with...

...what did Remus just say?]

Allowed? [he asks, mystified.] There's a story behind this, isn't there?

[doggedly]

[The humour (or lack thereof) that Draco Malfoy would (or would not) find in a slightly shattered and sequestered Sneakascope is exactly the sort of humour that Sirius truly appreciates. Jokes in general are great. Jokes at the expense of others, when there's nothing they can do about it? Sometimes even better, especially if they're deserved.

But some of the wind is taken out of his dark humoured sails at the reminder of the Great Snape Taboo, and Sirius reflexively reaches up to flatten his fringe against his forehead, a compulsive gesture, like a muggle grabbing hold of a rabbit's foot.]

Oh, your old Uncle Remus is just having a laugh at my expense. [Which, in this case, is Not Cool. The rules of humour-at-the-expense-of-others is fine, so long as everyone remembers who those 'others' are. Quickly, he drops his hand, and shoves it into his pocket instead so he can do a rather contained shrug.] It's not that I'm exactly not allowed. I mean, in this case, I wouldn't actually be doing anything. It'd be the Sneakscope, right.

[He glances at it, somewhat sharply. Take the blame, you.]

[fullmoon]

[ Old Uncle Remus steps back from the wreckage and makes a particular point of treading on Sirius' foot in the process, just for that, and then an equally particular point of bumping shoulder to shoulder and sticking a pointy-but-gentle elbow into Sirius' ribs before he steps away. It's an apology elbow. All of that is accompanied by a doubtful sideways look and brief silence while he subdues the urge to devolve into bickering, actually it is that you're exactly not allowed, etc.

That--the silence--isn't an apology. It's more about Harry, who looks like James and like Harry-from-before but isn't quite either of them. He's still an unknown entity, not in enough to be privy to infighting, and one of the large collection of people who Remus doesn't trust to like him if he ever makes it even slightly difficult to do.

So: ] It belongs to you, Harry, [ he says with a smile and a good-natured shrug that's turned lopsided by the bundled-up jumper he's holding with one armpit. Harry will have to get that story out of someone else. ]

[bespectacle]

[Harry can tell when he's not trusted. He doesn't take it personally, though, considering everything he knows about Remus, and the fact that Remus probably knows he knows just makes it a bit sad. Harry just refuses to be too sad at the moment. We having read the books are familiar with the fact he's unfailingly kind and highly optimistic, rather like his mother, even if he does look entirely like his dad.

Somehow, he'd expected Sirius to be less charming. I mean that streak of meanness, he'd always expected; especially in that Attitude toward Snape, naturally its extension to Draco. He can see, though, how it was easy for Remus to go along with when he was younger. He finds himself tempted to let it slide as well, plucking himself up in a moment of realization.] I'd like to keep peace with Professor Snape, [he says.] I know this all sounds like fun and games right now, but I know it wasn't always.

[HE ALso knows (figures) that underneath the superficial appearance of light humor and easy pranks, there's a darker undercurrent, honestly.] I think it's best we let things heal. The last thing all of you did for me, before I came here, was save my life and all my friends. In the span of a week. [That's a drastic oversimplification and playing it awfully loose with time, but it's weird to talk to a bunch of people who are dead in your world about how they died so here have some good old-fashioned British boy-tact.]

So I reckon I'll just hang onto it, maybe try and develop some sort of a silencing spell, [why isn't Hermione here anymore :( He stoops down to pick up the blasted thing. Then his eyes crinkle.] at least until we figure out where Ward and Resnik are sleeping.

[doggedly]

[Apology Elbow mostly makes up for Foot Tread, but none of it actually makes up for the fact that Sirius is actually not allowed to do something, a fact that is currently being underlined. The exercise of authority is not something that he appreciates, even if it's by order of Tyke (who he appreciates deeply).

But.]

Well, if everyone's so against it. [--Which he huffs with great and disgusted theatrics.] I s'ppose we'll let it stand. No need to launch into maudlin stories.

[Saved his life indeed. Snape better be excluded from that. There's no way that he could be included, no matter how generous everyone's been with explaining the truth about Severus Snape, secret double agent. Also, eurgh: "peace". Sirius kicks at the dirt a little, unhappy about it--but at least this is a reasonable excuse and request.

He cheers himself by thinking that he could always put something else in Draco Malfoy's ceiling. The suggestion of Ward and Resnik helps to brighten him a little more, enough so he stops kicking at dirt.]

And I s'ppose if anyone deserves it most, it's the pair of them. Top of the list, those two. 'Course--we could end up with massive mutated splintered sneakascopes rolling around, if we let the ship get hold of it. But at least we can sort those easily between us.

[Obviously, as they've just done for this one. Go Go Gryffindor!]