(no subject)

[wunderkind]

STUFF GOES IN HERE

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[parumcanis]

[A necktie, and a bowtie. Sirius tries to work out what Miles might mean, without asking further questions. To buy himself time, he nods, sensibly, like what Miles has said makes perfect sense.]

Do they need fitting?

[bitty_justice]

[And Miles realizes - ]

Oh, you must not have ties in the wizarding world.

[That's said without the least bit of condemnation or scorn or even incredulity, though. It would be rather hard to be scornful regarding Sirius' knowledge of fashion, after all, given that Miles isn't even entirely certain how to put his hat on.]

No, they go around your neck and hang down. So very tall people need longer ties, because otherwise they'd look silly and short, but no, they're pretty universal.

[parumcanis]

[He's embarrassed, straightaway--but Miles' tone helps, the way he doesn't sneer or even look aghast. He just-- says it, as if it's reasonable, and Sirius looks around at him, chewing on his lower lip for a second.]

They just hang down?

[bitty_justice]

[A nod.]

Except for bow-ties! They stick out.

[He demonstrates with his fingers crossed in front of his neck.]

It's pretty stupid, I guess, because they really don't have any purpose. But they do make you look distinguished.

[parumcanis]

How do they make you look distinguished?

[And then a though occurs to him, and he grins, a little--]

Someone could grab you by it.

[bitty_justice]

Well - if you were in a fight or something. But you don't ever get in fights at the sorts of events you wear ties to.

[parumcanis]

[Well, that's just naive.]

You can always get into a fight.

[bitty_justice]

[A little laugh - ]

Not there! Everyone's there to talk, not fight.

[parumcanis]

[Dismissively, he waves a hand.]

But talking can turn to fighting, easily. I've seen it happen. And then they could choke you!

[bitty_justice]

Well - yes, theoretically, but - I've never seen any...fighting at events like these. And I've probably been to four or five.

[parumcanis]

[He squints at Miles, still a little unconvinced--but four or five is quite a few, and what does Sirius know about the muggle world, really. So he concedes the point with a nod.]

All right. But they have to feel weird around your neck, right? Robes are loads better.

[bitty_justice]

What about the hats, though?

[parumcanis]

[He wrinkles his nose.]

We don't always wear hats. And we don't have to, either--not ones like these, anyways.

[bitty_justice]

[Which, again - Good.]

Okay, what do better robes look like?

[parumcanis]

Well, like-- hang on--

[He fumbles around in his trunk for a moment, before he realises that perhaps it's silly to have dress robes with him. But Miles doesn't know any better--and anyways, it's not as if Sirius packed his own trunk.

But hat would be even worse to say aloud. For one of the first times that he can remember, Sirius feels a little like a prat.

He digs out his dress robes anyway, balls them up as if he doesn't care--as if his mother wouldn't twist his ear for crushing them--and chucks them over to Miles. They're black, with fine green stitching and green at the cuffs and collar and along the bottom.]

See?

[bitty_justice]

[And Miles holds them up, shakes them out. They seem like they ought to be heavy, with their fine cloth, but really they're light as anything. And they're clearly...rich, beyond anything Miles has ever owned or will ever own - Miles can tell that, because he's been with rich people and seen the sorts of things they wear.

Dad's never much cared for wealth. It's rare to get Dad to speak disapprovingly about anything, but opulent displays of wealth he will frown on. Dad would frown at these.

But Miles isn't about to say that. He's not a complete prig. Besides which, he imagines himself in them, and - well, for all that robes are just weird, anyone would look completely dashing in them. So he doesn't really have to fake his enthusiasm.]

These are brilliant.

[He grins at Sirius.]

That's a good color, too, I think. Green's not my favorite, but it's good.

[parumcanis]

[Outright approval was not what Sirius was expecting. Politeness, maybe, but not brilliant. He blinks, at first--but he's quick to grin a second later, a little flush in his cheeks but fading quickly--]

Yeah? They're all right--and green's all right as well. I wouldn't have picked them out.

[He takes them back, and he's a little more careful when he places them in his trunk again.]

But they're all right, I guess. S'ppose you'll have to get some eventually yourself.

[bitty_justice]

I'll save up for some. In red, probably.

[Miles smiles at Sirius, glad to see that he's glad - that his self-consciousness is fading away.]

It's always a good thing, looking good. Looking formal. People respect you more.

[parumcanis]

Eh, who cares.

[He shoves his trunk shut, with a measure more of his easy self-assurance.]

If they're only respecting you 'cos of the way you're dressed, then they're not worth your time anyways.

[bitty_justice]

True.

[And he says that fervently. And yet...]

Though sometimes...people who are like that are in positions of power. Like - Dad talks about how he has to dress up to impress the sorts of people who have money and give grants.

[parumcanis]

[People who have money are Sirius' people. It's difficult, knowing what wealth is, knowing who the haves and the have nots are--when your whole life has been about being a have, when everyone around you is the same as you. It wasn't until recently that Sirius began to realise that there was a difference, that his life was not the standard. It sounds so stupid to say it that way, and it's embarrassing--and he would never, never say it aloud.]

But it shouldn't be that way.

[bitty_justice]

No, not at all.

[He shakes his head firmly. This he believes fiercely, without reservation; there's no falseness or forced enthusiasm, like there had been - to some small extent - with praising the impressiveness of the robes. (Not that he had allowed any of that to show in his voice.)]

What matters is how people are. The content of their characters. And that's all they should be judged on.

[parumcanis]

[It's what Sirius has tentatively begun to believe--but hearing it said aloud is an entirely different thing. He glances over at Miles, searching his face, quickly--but there's nothing but earnestness there. He means it.]

Yeah. I think so too. [A beat, and he adds, tentatively--] Maybe a bit by the things that they've done, too.

[bitty_justice]

Oh, yeah, that too.

[He nods with firm self-assurance, and with casual support of what Sirius said:]

Good point. Though you could argue that what they do is part of who they are, too.

[parumcanis]

I s'ppose, yeah.

[That seems a little complicated, even if it's true. So Sirius just shrugs, and shuts his trunk again.]

I'll be famous for doing something one day, just watch. That's how I'll be known.