Under the Big Top

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages! Welcome to the world-famous Lestrange Brother's Three Ring Circus! Here, under the big top, our performers will astound you with their awe inspiring, high flying, death defying stunts and tricks that will make your jaw hit the floor. Don't believe me? Just sit back and prepare to be amazed. Under the Big Top is a Marauders AU experiment revolving around a traveling circus troupe as it makes its way across the United States and back again.

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The Lestrange Brothers Circus has become infamous among the wizarding population of the contiguous United States over its many years of operation. Truly, the only all-wizarding circus to date, mention it to a pureblood and watch him scoff at the very idea.

How lowly, a wizard bending over backwards to entertain muggles (both literally and figuratively). Muggle-loving families like the Potters and Prewetts were one thing but no one would have ever expected it of a Black, least of all Bellatrix. She had always been so proper, the perfect pureblood child. But when the Blacks lost everything, no one would dare stoop to help them. Instead they only stepped forward to take their place.

Any proper witch would turn up her nose at the very mention. The circus of all things? Perhaps that’s just where the Blacks belong. Young women who once envied the Black sisters now tittered at the thought that women like that had once walked in the same social circles. Living beside freaks and performers who grovel at the feet of muggles. On a train no less. It’s almost too outrageous to be true!

You might imagine the field day that was had when Bellatrix Black married Rodolphus Lestrange. There’s no place for those sort of people in proper wizarding society the men and women agree over a dinner cooked and served by the ignored house elf.

As the rest of the girls laugh at the absurdity of it all, Emmeline Vance sits apart and wonders, what if?

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When the muggles come around for a glimpse at the huge tents they murmur that it must be magic. They don’t actually know that it is, it’s just a phrase they use to express surprise at something that seems to be an impossibility. Really, even a muggle circus can make the haul overnight. The train rolls in that evening and by the time the sun comes up the nearby field has been turned into a virtual city of canvas tents, animal calls, and unsavory looking men.

The addition of magic makes it so much more simple. One wizard can do the work of four, sometimes more, and the work never takes nearly as long to complete. Everyone has a job to do, no wand is wasted. The train is unloaded front to back, the tents erected, cages built, animals transported. By the time it’s done there’s a line out the door of the mess tent. Most haven’t eaten a proper meal since the train left the last town. Most settle for eating canned food warmed magically or over a carefully made fire. Some complain the animals eat better. Others are smart enough not to say something like that out loud.

They entertain themselves with playing cards and bottles of bootleg liquor. Those who haven’t gambled away their last paycheck can be found in town drinking in the bars and chatting up the locals. The twins are famous among the troupe for their impressive magic “tricks” that catch the eyes of the local girls. Supposedly they know plenty of other “tricks” as well, if you catch their drift.

It’s not uncommon to find someone in a dark corner of a car, pants down and hand around his own cock. Most become desensitized to the sight fairly quickly. Get caught in an animal car and you’ll be run out, pants still around your ankles. Anywhere else and you’re likely to be left to yourself, everyone needs an outlet after all. The truly desperate might find a friend, but most women are unwilling, which leaves the men. Those outside the circus would be surprised to find that most everything is done consensually. It’s difficult to keep secrets on the train and there are plenty of people ready to hex anyone who wants to exercise their power over someone else. Even in towns, everyone from performers to laborers act as respectably as they must. Find yourself in jail and no one is likely to bail you out.

The breakdown is just as quick, if done with a bit less excitement. Most of the troupe love the lifestyle but few look forward to long days and nights on the train. More exciting are the new towns, the new people, and performances to look forward to. Animal caretakers and the engineers have the most to do between towns. Otherwise there is little to break the monotony. Finding a stowaway to harass provides the best form on entertainment when one gets tired of gambling or doing whatever it is they’re being paid for. But it’s only a few days on the train before the next town appears on the horizon and the haul must be made all over again.

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At night he can’t sleep. It’s too noisy in the sleeper car; too many men all packed in and stacked one on top of the next. His cot smells like someone else’s sweat and bodily fluids he doesn’t want to think about. Most nights he abandons the sleeper car altogether, climbing up and over train cars until he finds the one he wants. It’s a dangerous thing to do in the dark but the light from his wand proves to be more than enough for the journey.

It’s in the animal cars that Remus finds his peace. Here there’s no one but the horses and the dogs to disturb him. He might stop by the cats’ car, running his fingers along the bars of their cages as he watches their silhouettes rising and falling in the darkness. They don’t seem to be bothered by his presence. In another car the zebras are restless. Someone left a halter hanging in a stall and it’s swinging with the movement of the train. He puts it away, calms the creature, and waits for them to settle down. Time passes slowly and eventually he moves on.

The Lipizzans are his favorite. Beautiful horses that shine in the arena. On nights like this when his anxieties are running high he might just slip into a stall and press his face against the animal’s neck, breathing in the smell of hay and earth and living things. And the horse will just stand there patiently and let him.

Sleep takes him as he lies in the hay, listening to the breathing of the animals around him and the steady clack-clack of the train as it hurries along to its next destination. The air smells so much cleaner, no one comes here to bother him. Not usually. He comes here so often it should have happened sooner. It’s still pitch black outside when a foot prods him into wakefulness and suddenly he’s looking up at a young man, the light from a wand all but blinding him.

He might not have come to know James Potter otherwise. Not like he does now. They knew each other before then, sure. When you work with the animals you know everyone else who does too. But before now Remus mostly kept to himself, constantly swayed by his preference for animals over people. That night though, James ended up collapsing into the hay next to him and they passed the time until sunrise talking. The following morning after the evening’s haul had been made and the tents were ready and waiting it was James Potter who squeezed himself in between Remus and Ted at the morning meal and started talking like they’d known each other all their lives.

You could say Remus was grateful for the way James forced himself into his life, dragging Sirius Black along with him. You wouldn’t be wrong either. He might roll his eyes at the antics they drag him into but he always gets a laugh out of it. And they include him in everything (even if they have to drag him along), Peter too, and it’s more than he ever had as a child. They’re both daring and handsome and everything he has ever wanted to find in himself. A bad influence some say but he doesn’t really care. They’re good people and better company, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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They call him an adrenaline junkie, and they’re only half wrong. Sirius loves the sensation of the wind rushing through his hair, feeling every pump of his heart and surge of blood in his veins. He chases that rush with every new stunt, every time his motorbike leaves the ground and touches back down again. Never mind that he’s put a few charms on the old girl to keep her from hitting the ground too hard. And she always touches down, usually to a roaring crowd of awed viewers. 

The glory of his act isn’t too bad either; the bike, the leather jacket and his pretty face attract plenty of attention by themselves, and the death-defying stunts only increase the appeal. The sound of applause is like music to Sirius’ ears. Call him vain or comment on his ego and he’ll pat you on the shoulder, then tell you that you’re just jealous.

But there’s something else that he seeks in the air with the bike humming between his legs and the ground far below. It’s the feeling of invincibility, of knowing that he can do this (and do it well) and live to perform another day. It’s a great big fuck you to the world, to his parents, to where he’s come from, and a crow of triumph to how he got here. In the end, Sirius performs for himself, not for the money (though that is appreciated) or the glory.

And if he tries a particular trick or twist in an effort to impress a homely animal trainer, or beat the lion tamer in a bet, or to earn a laugh with the stable boy, well - that’s his own business.

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It starts with something along the lines of “what the fuck do you think you’re doing” and before either of them knows it one is holding the other’s shoulder against the frame of the open door, threatening to let him fall. Not exactly the best way to make a new friend but Evan Rosier isn’t looking to make friends, and if he were this kid (at least he looks like a kid) wouldn’t fit the bill.

Maybe it’s the way the kid hardly reacts. He doesn’t really put up a fight and his reaction to being forced to the edge of a speeding train is less than satisfying. Whatever it is, Evan doesn’t like him. He wants to know why this kid is here, where he came from, but the kid has a strange grin and a roundabout way of talking that leaves him with no more information than he had when they started. He’s treating this like a game, practically daring Evan to let him fall.

He should have done it too. Look at him now, all tangled up in the idiotic mess the Prewetts were so kind to mastermind. A man can only get so much pleasure out of making an idiot’s life miserable and this kid is clearly better at getting in the way than he is at helping set up anything. His body would have made better fertilizer on the side of the tracks. Evan really might have done it if the Prewetts hadn’t shown up. If there’s one person he hates more than one Prewett it’s the other.

They tell him to pull the kid in and he does, if only because no one talks to him like that and he’s going to make sure they know it. The kid side steps away from the door and runs his fingers through his mop of black hair to pull it away from his face. When Evan pulls out his wand (a second threat that will go unfulfilled tonight) the kid lets out an awkward laugh and muses out loud about men who rely on violence when words can do the trick. In part the threats are just a show to scare the new kid on the block, but as his face reddens he adds another bullet point on his list of reasons why he shouldn’t let this one stick around.

But the Prewetts are already more interested in the boy than in him and in a few seconds everything has gone over his head. The kid isn’t any more interested in answering his saviors’ questions about who he is and why he’s here but he does express interest in staying. The twins agree if only to piss off Evan and perhaps Bellatrix, who’s declared that Evan’s not to take on any more runaways. Evan is happy to remind them of the second fact but he only aids in digging his grave a little deeper. When Sirius Black is brought in the whole thing is over. Any threat or logical argument Evan can think of to rid himself of the awkward kid with the unsettling grin is ignored or rendered invalid when Sirius agrees to call the kid "brother." And he can’t deny there is a remarkable similarity between the two.

Whoever this kid was before, he’s Regulus Black now and Bellatrix won’t be known as a woman who abandons her family. So Evan finds himself stuck with the Black who isn’t and a secret he never promised to keep.

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It’s not as easy as you might think. Some kid tried it once and they found bits of him in three different cars. Sounds like a real mess, something that sticks with you for a while—especially if you’re on the cleanup crew. Apparating off the train is easy. It’s getting on that’s the hard part. See, the place you’re apparating to isn’t moving—it’s a fixed point in space—but the train is, and it’s moving fast. A second too late and you’ll find yourself in a wall. Not that you’ll know because there’s no way you’re living through that. It’s surviving a splinching like that you should be worrying about.

But the prospect of dying horrifically won’t scare the Prewett boys off. Conversely, that’s what makes the experience more fun. As it is, they have more practice in the art of apparating onto trains than anyone, moving or otherwise. It’s just their own version of defying death on a daily basis, minus the spotlight and the shocked gasping from a crowd. They do have rules of course; it’s not as if they’re looking to lose their heads. Then again, there’s very few who even dare to apparate from one car to the next, plenty of people choose to walk. It’s about timing mostly; not something you do without the train in your sights. And they’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years, considering it’s in their job description.

They make it into a game of accuracy; who can get closest to his mark? And they’re not above betting on themselves. A game of chicken; who can land closest to the back of the car without getting splinched? Ask and they’ll be happy to show you the near misses that have left permanent scars under their clothes. Gideon once lost a good bit of skin off of his knee. Couldn’t walk properly for a week (without gushing blood that is). Fabian’s only had slightly better luck, barring the time he almost lost his entire left arm. That’s what happens when you react a split second too late. If there was a difference in the way he acted after that only Gideon could tell.

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If everyone knew who was on Andromeda Black's mind some would ask her was Ted the elephant trainer not a rebellious enough love? But it has nothing to do with Ted and everything to do with Mary. Andromeda has enough of gentle giants washing the flanks of Amelia and Titan, her two favorites. She has enough of Ted's gentle smiles catching her eyes, of his hands helping boost her over the wide backs of the animals she preforms on. When he looks to her, she looks for the woman who put her head in the lion's mouth and didn't flinch.

And wished she could do that, too.

Instead she laughs down at Ted, draws her fingers across his bare shoulders in the summertime, and pretends she doesn't dream of plucking the blouse off Mary.

When it's hot and half the female performers are sprawled in a boxcar half dressed and slick with sweat, Andromeda says to Mary, "You look a little red--let me cast a cooling charm." It's not half as casual as she thinks it is but she doesn't think of the way Ted's skin burns pink then brown. She wonders if she could suck the heat from Mary's cheeks, drag the summertime freckles from her skin.

Ted is collateral damage and doesn't even know it.