Disclaimer: Harry Potter is certainly not mine (a girl can only dream…)
Rating: M for language, lots of slashy goodness, some drug use and probably a bit of sex.
A/N: This story is slightly influenced by the film 'Velvet Goldmine'. It's set in 1972-4: I think the Marauders were about twelve in 1972, so I'm using a bit of artistic license to make them seventeen! The whole story's pretty AU anyway (here presuming J.K Rowling would have mentioned if Sirius Black was a glam rock god!) This first chapter is chronologically set in the middle of the story. Trust me, it's not all this depressing!
All That Glitters
Chapter One- 'Through The Mist Of Heartbreak'
Remus Lupin drew the fur coat tighter around his shoulders. His breath misted on the cold night air like a mirror image of the swirling Milky Way above. A glance at his watch, told him the taxi was five minutes late. For a moment, Remus considered hailing the Knight Bus, but his wand was packed away in one of his suitcases and besides, he intended to leave the wizarding world for good.
The door to the concert hall's back-entrance opened and a man fell through. He struggled to right himself and ended up crashing into one of the many large metal dustbins. "Shit!" he exclaimed and Remus found himself laughing at the familiar tone.
"You need to stop drinking so much, James Potter!" he scolded in a mock-serious voice.
James spun round and squinted at Remus from behind his glasses. "That you, Remmie? What're you doin' outside?"
"Waiting for a taxi."
"Ahhh…" James sighed. "I thought the fresh air would help me feel less sick," he confided. "No such luck."
"What have you been drinking?" Remus asked, with his usual gentle concern.
"Scotch. God-awful muggle stuff." James pulled a face and then closed his eyes as the blinding headlights of a car shone at him. "Did you say you were waiting for a taxi?" he asked.
"Yeah…" Remus gave James a brief hug and picked up his two suitcases. He flashed James a sad smile. "I'll be off then," he said, a little awkwardly.
"Off where?"
"I can't tell you that."
"For how long?"
"I don't know. Forever, maybe."
James looked worried as he belatedly realised what was happening. "You can't leave!" he cried. "I mean, I'll get Sirius! He'll never forgive me if I let you go!"
"Yes he will." Remus' smile turned even sadder. "And you can tell him…" Remus frowned for a minute, trying to think up the words. "Tell him I'll never forget the time we had."
He climbed into the taxi without another word.
And then he was gone.
The world was spinning too bloody quickly. James stumbled down the corridor, colliding first with the wall on his left and then on his right. He tripped over something – which fucking idiot had left a guitar amp in the middle of the corridor? – and had to fight desperately to remain on his feet. His arms flailed wildly for a moment before grasping the curled-up corner of a poster. Clinging on desperately, he managed to stay upright until the world had stopped spinning quite so badly.
And then he looked at the poster. It showed a black and white photograph of a man clutching the neck of an electric guitar with one hand, while the other held a half-burned cigarette to his pouting lips. Eyes lined with dark makeup looked defiantly at the camera; the only sign of life in a picture-perfect, ivory statue of a face. The man was wearing tight leather trousers low on his hips and the photographer had managed to catch a sheen of sweat across his bare chest.
"Sirius," James whispered. "You stupid bastard." His eyes flicked to the writing at the bottom of the poster:
The Broomstick Club Proudly Presents
Sirius Black
and
The Faeries
For one night only.
Over these words, in glaring red ink, was stamped the message SOLD OUT. James stared at these two words stamped across his friend's name. Sold out. How very true.
All of a sudden, James felt far too sober.
In a quick, violent movement, he ripped the poster from the wall and tore it into two pieces and then into four and then into eight. He crumpled the pieces in his fist and let them fall to the ground, like the pieces of glitter that had rained down on Sirius and his band a couple of hours before.
A loud crash and a muffled, slightly slurred curse, followed by the distinctive sound of a guitar amp being smashed into oblivion made James spin around. Sirius Black took a few stumbling steps towards him - precariously balanced in gold platform boots to match his gold flares - and then allowed himself to slide to the ground. At that moment, he didn't look much like an idolised glam rock superstar. He looked like any other waster who'd had too much booze and too many drugs. There was a cigarette in his mouth and a half-empty bottle of tequila in his hand.
"Jim," Sirius said through his cigarette.
"Where've you been? I was trying to find you."
"On the rooftop. The stars were sparkling, you see."
"Oh," James said flatly. He cast a wary look at his friend. "Are you high?" he asked.
Sirius looked at him for a moment. His bloodshot eyes became less vacant. "I was high." He stared at the cigarette in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. "I'm rapidly coming down again," he said, putting the cigarette to his lips in a pose vaguely reminiscent of the poster.
James allowed himself to slump to the floor next to Sirius. He leant backwards against the wall.
"Where's the band?" James asked him..
Sirius slowly exhaled a finger of smoke. "With the groupies," he said, giving a soft sigh. James turned and scrutinised his friend. Glittery gold and black makeup was smeared round his eyes and his cheeks were hollow. His black hair shadowed his face as it hung limply past his shoulders. The beautiful vitality that had been his scarcely a year ago had vanished, replaced by a wistful tragic beauty all of his own making. "Where's Remus?" Sirius asked. He lightly, almost idly, touched the burning end of his cigarette to the pale underside of his left arm and didn't even wince.
James snatched it from him. "Get a grip," he said harshly. "Remus is gone," he added.
"Gone?" Sirius examined the reddening burn mark. "Gone where?"
And in the end there was no easier way to break the news than to just say it.
"He's left you, Sirius," James resolutely ignored the catch in his own throat and instead tried to be angry because it was about time somebody was. "Remus has left you," he said. "Has that penetrated your thick junkie skull or shall I make it clearer? He's fucking left you and it's your own damn fault-"
James stopped abruptly. Sirius had bowed his hair and his entire body, so thin and wasted, was racked with desperate gulping sobs.
"He's left you," said James. He gingerly extracted the bottle of tequila from Sirius' trembling grasp, unscrewed the cap with quick clumsy movements and then drank until his insides were on fire. "You have a choice," he told Sirius. "You can either be Sirius Black, superstar, rock god: rich beyond his wildest dreams and in the middle of a sell-out world tour."
"Or?"
"You can give up everything; give it all up and go and find Remus."
Money or love. Fame or love. God-damned bloody hero-worship or love.
"Will you help me?" Sirius asked.
"Yes," said James. "I always do, don't I?"
"I need to find Remus," Sirius said, "And I need to disappear."
Tbc…A/N: Please review!