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The Other Side: Thick and Thin (Book 1)	By : ChapterEight Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or her licensees, so I do not own Harry Potter or make any money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Sirius's last dueling lesson of the summer was the day before he departed for Hogwarts. His parents had insisted that he could have some time off before he had to leave, perhaps a whole week, but Sirius had soundly rejected the idea that he should give up three whole sessions with Dolohov. He was disappointed enough about not being able to see the man during the school year.
He levitated a cushion in front of himself to deflect the jet of red light from Dolohov's wand, then had to throw himself sideways to avoid another Stunning Spell. His instructor, as merciless as ever, immediately sent another one his way mere seconds later. Sirius ducked just in time for it to sail uselessly over his head.
By the time another streak of light came in his direction, he had repositioned his cushion in midair. Dolohov's Stunner impacted it and fizzled out harmlessly.
Then the cushion exploded and Sirius reared back in surprise just before he was hit directly in the chest. He felt his entire body freeze up, then his backwards momentum sent him crashing to the floor, flat on his back. He found himself staring upwards at the ceiling watching a flurry of feathers and bits of fabric rain down around him. Dolohov appeared in his line of vision a few seconds later, staring down at him with an amused expression on his usually dour face.
As soon as the spell was lifted, Sirius blurted, "Morgana's tit!"
Dolohov burst into laughter as Sirius continued to glare up at him from the floor. The man offered a rough hand to his pupil, then hauled Sirius upright and settled him back onto his feet in one smooth movement
"I know you don't say that in front of your mother," he said as he began waving his wand to gather the feathers.
"That wasn't fair," Sirius replied through his scowl.
Dolohov hummed in agreement. "Dueling isn't fair."
"You said that you'd only use Stunners."
"I wanted to see how you'd react to something different, give you a taste of what's to come." Dolohov shrugged his broad shoulders. "I can't let you get cocky just because you're good at avoiding Stunners."
He replaced the cushion and plopped down onto the lone sofa, allowing his long legs to sprawl in front of him. Sirius wandered over to join his tutor, as Dolohov always wanted to use the last minutes of their lessons to discuss what had happened and how he expected Sirius to prepare for their next meeting, and eagerly reached for the water that Kreacher had laid out for them. He had spent the past hour almost continuously dodging and blocking Stunning Spells, and he was sure that he'd never known thirst like he had experienced working with his tutor, who liked to remind him that he wouldn't be allowed to take a water break in the middle of a real duel.
Eventually Dolohov set down his own goblet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, signaling that it was time for his student to do the same.
"You'll be ahead of the game when we start training next summer. You've already got a good foundation to build on, so we can jump straight to more advanced things," he commented. He used one rough hand to push his hair out of his brown eyes and pinned Sirius with a critical stare. "That is, if you don't let yourself slip over the school year."
Sirius had learned long ago not to smile or otherwise show his pleasure at any of Dolohov's compliments, lest he be accused of getting too cocky. Instead, he asked quite seriously, "How am I supposed to practice at school?"
That discussion was probably why, Sirius reflected the next day, he didn't immediately react with his wand when James Potter barged into his compartment without knocking.
"Are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?" the boy demanded before the door had even completely opened.
Everybody in the compartment looked up in surprise. Peter's head immediately swung back around to watch Sirius's reaction, and a grin broke out across Avery's face. Mulciber's face was set in hard lines, and his hand inched towards his pocket, but Sirius responded before the Slytherin could pull his wand.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," he responded tersely. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Problem?" echoed Potter, his expression colored with surprise. "As long as you have that Nimbus, the only problem I'll have is if you don't know how to use it." The occupants of the compartment all stared up at him, and after a few beats of uncomfortable silence, he added, "Well, that would be a waste of an excellent broom!"
It was Peter who finally found his voice. "But you hate Sirius!"
Then he seemed to realize what he'd done and flushed red, slumping back into the bench as if Sirius's body might block him from view. Though there was very little chance of that, Sirius thought cruelly. Peter was far too plump to hide behind him.
Potter's cheeks had also turned a rather interesting shade of red, but he managed to say, "It doesn't matter how I feel about him as long as he's good and he has the best broom at Hogwarts."
"It's a good thing you feel that way, seeing as Malfoy and Lestrange also have Nimbus 1001s." Sirius informed him, then smirked in satisfaction at Potter's horrified expression.
Will grinned even wider. "And they've promised to give their old Nimbus 1000s to Vanity and whoever takes the remaining Chaser position."
Potter looked truly stricken now, and he stumbled out of the compartment with barely any farewell, mumbling about how he needed to go talk to Thomas, who was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.
After he was gone, Mulciber finally spoke up, though a scowl still covered his face. "I didn't know you planned to try out."
"I hadn't made up my mind before yesterday," Sirius informed his friends, "but Dolohov said Quidditch would be a really good way to continue developing my reflexes."
Things soon settled down in the compartment. None of the other boys had finished their summer assignments, and they worked feverishly for most of the trip. Sirius refused to help any of them with their work, as he thought that would be rewarding their procrastination, and also he just didn't want to.
He had hoped to find respite from his boredom by enjoying a brief interlude in the older Slytherins' compartment, but the atmosphere was so frigid and tense that he didn't enjoy it at all. It seemed like both Narcissa and Lucilla Lestrange were angry at Rabastan, who didn't bother to hide his returned fury.
Sirius sat in the uncomfortable tension for several minutes, which was as long as he could stand it. He rose from the bench abruptly, earning himself a startled look from Rabastan, who until that point had been glaring sullenly out the window and refusing to meet his eyes.
"Where are you going?" demanded Lucilla. Her tone was laced with a touch of accusation, which earned her a glare from her brother.
"Leave him out of this, you great bloody bitch!" he growled.
Everybody stared at him in astonishment, but nobody looked more gobsmacked than his sister. She looked at him as if he were a stranger, her lips moving as if she were trying to speak but couldn't think what to say.
Lucius stood and hauled Narcissa up with him. He propelled Sirius out the door and into the narrow corridor just as Lucilla found her voice.
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!"
"Come along, Narcissa," said Malfoy, but his girlfriend made no move to exit the compartment.
"I'LL SPEAK TO YOU ANY BLOODY WAY I LIKE!"
Lucius gripped Narcissa's elbow firmly.
"YOU CERTAINLY WILL NOT!"
"Narcissa," Malfoy hissed at her. Sirius thought that he sounded distinctly like Grandfather Arcturus and Father did when they were angry. It seemed to startle Cissy out of her stupor; she jerked slightly and looked around guiltily at the blond wizard, allowing him to pull her outside.
"IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A FUCKING BI—"
Lucius snapped the door shut and cut off the sound. Sirius supposed that there must be Silencing Charms on the compartments, which, now that he thought about it, was probably a smart idea since there were so many rowdy teenagers on this train. The volume would undoubtedly be unbearable otherwise.
Cissy was still looking at Malfoy with a shame-filled expression, but he stood tall and stone-faced beside her. "Come," he said finally. "We might as well patrol while we're out here."
Sirius had grabbed Lucius's arm before he realized what he'd done. "Aren't you going to tell me what that's about?"
Lucius turned to look at him. His eyes darted to the side in Narcissa's direction, though she was standing slightly behind him and couldn't see.
"No."
Then he pulled his arm free and steered the witch down the corridor. Sirius had no recourse except to head in the opposite direction towards his own compartment, although he was probably the worst compartment-mate possible for the rest of the way to Hogwarts. His mood wasn't very much improved by the way Janice attached herself to his arm as they were waiting for an available carriage to ride up to the castle.
"Why didn't you come find me on the train?" She seemed more than a bit annoyed.
He eyeballed her hands wrapped around his bicep. His first impulse was to shake her off and make it clear that he wasn't her boyfriend and he didn't have any obligation to have found her on the train, but then he glanced around and saw that the crowd of second and third years surrounding them was watching their interactions curiously.
"I was helping my friends with their homework and lost track of time," he told her flatly.
Will grinned at her in confirmation, and she seemed not to think anything was amiss about Nigel's scowl (not that there wasanything amiss about Nigel scowling). Sirius had been worried that Peter would give the lie away, but he only let out one wheezy giggle, and Sirius decided that the boy had acquitted himself pretty well.
The first few weeks of school seemed to follow the same pattern as September first. Potter either lectured him about Quidditch tryouts or ignored him completely, whereas Sirius, Peter, and the Slytherins were all amused by his suddenly altered behavior. Rabastan and his sister only interacted through angry glares across the Great Hall, and Malfoy and Cissy appeared increasingly at odds as the days passed by.
Janice seemed to be a hero among the younger Ravenclaw girls, who were all in awe over the fact that she'd been taken on a date by the handsome Gryffindor who had his own Nimbus 1001. He quickly rethought his stance on dating her when he realized that having a pretty girlfriend made him almost as big a hero among the first and second-year boys as Janice was among the girls. Of course he also happened to possess a racing broomstick, which added substantially to his popularity. Even Potter didn't seem to think it was worth it to try to turn the tide against him anymore!
Still, it was a surprise when the other boy approached him in the library one Friday a couple of weeks into term. Sirius and Janice both looked up from their work—not that they ever got much work done, a situation which had only worsened now that they were dating—and stared at Potter in surprise. He had a stern and slightly panicked expression on his face and didn't seem the least bit fazed by their stares.
"Well, aren't you coming to bed?" he repeated his question. "Surely Edgecomb here understands that you need all the rest you can get before Quidditch trials tomorrow."
Sirius turned to look at Janice as if she would tell him that he hadn't heard Potter say that, but she was gaping at his fellow Gryffindor in such open astonishment that he surmised he hadn't misheard at all.
"Potter…" He used the same tone he might if he were to speak to a particularly stupid house-elf. "Did you follow me all the way here just to tell me that it's my bedtime?"
"I didn't follow you," insisted the other boy. "I asked Pettigrew where to find you. And you have to be up bright and early tomorrow!"
Sirius could only look at him blankly, unsure how he could possibly respond to that.
Janice suddenly pulled her hand out of his from where they'd been resting together on the table between them. The movement caught both of the boys' attention, and they turned to see her grinning with amusement, her eyes sparkling with laughter. She started gathering her materials into her bag.
"He's right, you know. You had better do everything you can to increase your chances."
Sirius let out a laugh. "You think I need extra help, do you? Some girlfriend you are."
Janice shrugged her wild curls behind one shoulder, although most of them escaped immediately afterward. "I'm just saying that I know how important it is to make the Quidditch team."
"You'll break up with me, I suppose, if I don't make it," said Sirius, his face straight.
He watched how Janice had to visibly bite her lip to keep from smiling or laughing. He thought that he should really help her work on hiding her thoughts a bit better. On second thought, he mentally added a few moments later, she looks rather good when she does that.
Eventually she managed to say, "That depends on if any better looking boys make any of the teams."
Sirius was just about to demand a full accounting of which boys were better looking than him when Potter, who had up to that point been shifting on his feet and looking back and forth between them with an impatient, uncomfortable look on his face, took the opportunity to say, "There, you see: Edgecomb understands how important a good night's sleep is. Now hurry up!"
Then he found himself summarily herded to their dormitory. He was almost surprised that Potter hadn't stood over his bed to verify that he really was trying to sleep, but the next morning he quickly realized exactly why Potter had insisted that they go to bed so early.
"Black! Get up!"
Potter needn't have shouted, as Sirius had already been more than woken up by the sunlight that was suddenly streaming across his face when his dorm mate pulled back his curtains. If that hadn't already done it, the rough shake the other boy had given him certainly would have.
"Black!"
Sirius shoved his hands away and sat up so fast that Potter had to quickly scramble to right himself lest their heads collide. "What is your bloody problem waking me up at—" Sirius cast a quick spell to see what time it was. "Six forty-five in the bloody morning!"
Potter looked as if he was worried that Sirius had lost his mind. "We have Quidditch trials today."
"They're not until nine," Sirius pointed out slowly, placing careful emphasis on the time as if the other boy was the one who was short a few marbles.
"Exactly!" declared Potter. "We only have about half an hour to get ready and eat breakfast before we need to head to the pitch, if we want to get our brooms from the shed and start warming up by seven thirty at the latest."
Sirius stared up at him through a curtain of disheveled black hair. "Seven thirty?"
"Yes, seven thirty! Honestly, don't you know that everybody else will get there by eight? Do you want to have to dodge everyone in the whole bloody house while you're going through your drills?"
Sirius figured that it would be more trouble than it was worth if he tried to reason with the other boy. Surely it wouldn't do much good to point out that the whole house wasn't trying out—Lupin and Peter, who were grumbling about their interrupted sleep, were the perfect example—or that Sirius hadn't done any Quidditch drills in his entire life. It wasn't likely that he'd get anymore sleep now that he was awake anyway, especially not if he spent the next few minutes arguing about it with Potter, so with a groan of defeat he rolled out of bed, pushing the other boy further away from him as he went.
Potter was waiting impatiently by the door when Sirius finished dressing and reached under his bed for his Nimbus. He stared at the broom in surprise. "Why isn't that in the storage shed? Do you want to have it confiscated?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Potter, this broom will be left out in that horrid shed over my dead body. My father told me that it doesn't even have climate-controlling charms!"
They argued about it all the way to the Great Hall, but finally Sirius declared, "Well if it isn't allowed then you had better shut your big gob about it if you don't want the professors to hear!"
It turned out, after all that, that Madam Hooch hadn't even made an appearance yet that morning, and the storage shed was still firmly locked when Sirius and James trudged down to the Quidditch pitch at seven thirty. Sirius glared at his dorm mate with renewed annoyance before stomping off to the pitch alone, leaving a pair of hazel eyes to follow him jealously. He did flips and dives and spins until he was dizzy, then took to streaking from one set of goalposts to the other at breakneck speed, trying to see if he could improve his time each go around. Finally, when he flew back down some time later, he was met by Potter's elated expression waiting for him as soon as he alighted.
"That was amazing! The broom is amazing!"
"You got a new broom, didn't you?" asked Sirius, more to stave off any suggestion that he should let Potter take his broom for a spin than out of any real curiosity.
"Just a Comet 220," said Potter distractedly. He was examining Sirius's Nimbus and looked to be fighting the impulse to reach out and touch it. "How'd you talk your parents into buying you one?"
It was a stupid question, as far as Sirius was concerned. He pushed his increasingly long hair out of his eyes and raised a bemused eyebrow. "I didn't; my father let me have it as a reward."
Potter looked at him incredulously. "For what?"
"My results last year, advancing in my dueling training…" Sirius shrugged carelessly. "You know, the usual things."
"Dueling…?"
But Sirius was spared from answering by the arrival of Madam Hooch and Jack Thomas, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, which quickly drew the other boy's attention. They retrieved Potter's Comet and spent the next few minutes flying around the pitch, Sirius much more leisurely than Potter. Although he suspected that Potter was just trying to show off for Thomas before the rest of the hopefuls arrived.
And arrive they did, soon enough. Potter's prediction that they would all converge on the stadium by eight o'clock had been wildly off-base (And more than a little paranoid, thought Sirius.), but by the scheduled time there were over a dozen prospective members flying around the pitch. There were two empty spots at Chaser and one at Beater, so Sirius concluded that the odds of making the team weren't very good and was busy thinking about his strategy when the current team members joined Thomas in front of the crowd.
"Right, you lot!" called the dark-skinned wizard, drawing everybody's attention. Once they had all settled on the ground, he continued. "We're in a really good position this year since we have so many returning members, but I want to make it clear that nobody's position is guaranteed."
This caused a stir to go through the hopefuls. Sirius noticed that the current team did not look surprised at this announcement, although several of them looked quite unhappy about it.
"What's that mean, then?" asked one of the older boys. Sirius recognized his strawberry blond hair from around the common room, but he couldn't have said what the boy's name was or what year he was in.
Thomas held out his hands to quiet the crowd until he could be heard over them without shouting. "It means that we're all going to try out for every position, and we're going to create the strongest team possible not only for this year but also with an eye for the future. Two of the current members finish this year and the rest of us the year after that, and we don't want to leave behind a bunch of holes in the team."
Several members of the team shifted uncomfortably, and Sirius deduced that this worry about creating a strong team for the future was more Thomas's brain child than any of theirs. They would undoubtedly rather keep their own positions secure and weren't much worried about what would happen after they left school.
He smirked in amusement. "So the current members can get the boot?"
They all shifted again and shot quite unpleasant looks at Thomas when he answered, "If one of you is better for the team, yes."
After that the day passed by both quickly and slowly. Sirius found that he quite enjoyed many of the exercises Thomas had them perform, and the time went by far too quickly when he was racing from one side of the pitch to the other, dodging Bludgers, and fighting viciously for possession of the Quaffle. Then there were the things he found less fun, such as hitting Bludgers, blocking shots, and waiting to spot the Snitch. He quite despised all the waiting, actually, and he considered playing Seeker to be a bunch of boring waiting that steadily tore at his already low level of patience while he watched the others have fun below him.
Still, he had more fun than not, and almost before he knew it they were all trudging back up to the castle for a rather late lunch. They met the Slytherin co-captains on their way down to prepare for their own Quidditch trials that afternoon.
"Oi, Black!" called Lestrange as the groups got within earshot of one another. "So you've turned traitor after all, have you?"
The corners of Sirius's mouth quirked up into a smile, and as they got closer he could see that Rabastan and Lucius were as amused by the memory as he was. He was about to answer the charge when Potter stepped out from beside him.
"Shut your slimy Slytherin mouth!" he exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, not the least of which came from the three boys who had up until that point been smirking at one another in shared amusement.
"Potter!" hissed Sirius.
But the consummate Gryffindor would not be cowed. "No, they don't get to attack you! You were sorted into Gryffindor; you were never one of them!"
Sirius was stunned. He blinked, but the scene was still right there before him when he opened his eyes.
"Potter…" he began, unsure of exactly what he should say.
"No, it's okay. I was a git," the other boy declared matter-of-factly, "but I get it now!"
Lucius's slight smile had disappeared behind a frigid mask, and Rabastan's face had twisted into a perfect parody of a smile, with his teeth bared and a terrifying light in his eyes. Sirius watched helplessly as Malfoy laid a restraining hand on his best mate's wand arm, his long fingers visibly digging into the flesh just above Rabastan's wrist.
"I see," said Rabastan instead, his voice coming out more like a hiss than his usual controlled, cold tone. "I wonder if this is exactly what my dear sister and your cousin had in mind when they warned you off."
He directed the last to Sirius, who was just as confused by it as Potter and, a quick glance assured him, all of the other Gryffindors. Rabastan jerked his arm out of his friend's grasp and stalked through the crowd towards the pitch, roughly shouldering Potter aside but avoiding any physical contact with Sirius. Lucius followed him in a much more dignified manner, though Sirius could see through his mask that he was worried. He briefly squeezed Sirius's arm as he passed by, though Sirius was sure that to everyone else it had looked like the older boy had pushed by him the same way Rabastan had Potter, if more gently.
The rest of them turned as one to watch the Slytherins make their way towards the pitch, and soon enough Potter said, "Don't worry, mate. They'll just slither back into their hole and leave you alone."
Sirius let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and rounded on Potter so quickly that the other boy took several steps backwards. "I am not your mate!"
Potter and several of the other Gryffindors called after him as he stalked away from them, but he didn't look back. He shoved his way carelessly through a crowd of first years on his way up the steps, but a glare from his flashing black eyes silenced their protestations quickly enough as he continued into the castle.
Thomas had said that he would take until at least Friday to think over his decision, with Quidditch practice to start the very next day. Sirius was in a vicious mood all week, quite sure that he didn't have a shot in hell at making the Quidditch team after what had happened, no matter how good he was (and he wasn't arrogant enough to think that he had been the best in the first place). What's more, he found himself in the unaccountably weird position of being ignored by Lestrange and followed around by Potter, which just made his mood even worse.
He had taken to hiding out in some of the unused rooms in the dungeons. Lestrange and the other Slytherins seemed intent on ignoring him, and Potter, Janice, and everyone else from the other three houses wouldn't think to look for him down here. The dungeons were really the perfect place.
As it turned out, only Peter of all people knew about it. Sirius had to admit, if only to himself, that the half-blood had given up relationships with everybody else in order to stay friends with him, and he therefore felt that he owed Peter the courtesy of maintaining their friendship even as his own popularity rose astronomically.
Besides, he still needed the other boy's help in Potions unless he wanted to start actually reading the material himself, which he didn't. He had barely managed an Exceeds Expectations in Potions, and that was mostly on the strength of his in-class brewing and homework assignments throughout the year. He had received a Poor on his end-of-year exam. Professor Slughorn had been all too willing to tell him that he had only managed to make it into the E band by the smallest of margins once his classwork had been added to his exam, and the man had wondered if Sirius had perhaps been ill or otherwise distracted on the day of the test.
Sirius had managed to charm his way through the conversation, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to go another year scoring Os on his class work and then failing his exam without Slughorn wising up to the fact that he wasn't actually doing much of his own work in class. However, he figured that if he'd been able to manage Os on classwork almost entirely based on the strength of Peter's notes, then he could probably do better on exams if he just put in a minimal amount of extra effort during the year to actually learn the material for himself.
Peter had, of course, scored an Outstanding in Potions, getting third in the class behind Severus Snape and Lily Evans. Snape had been far and away the best in the class, and Peter had complained almost daily when they had first returned to school about how Evans must have only scored so high on account of being Snape's partner. Peter had also managed an E in Transfiguration thanks to Sirius's help, but he was quite relieved to have passed Charms by barely scraping out an Acceptable.
Thus they decided to keep up their study sessions, though they spent half of their time continuing their Dark Arts studies from last year and the other half actually completing school work.
Today Sirius was lounging across a table preparing for Potions by comparing Peter's notes and his textbook side by side. Peter was working on a remedial Charms essay after having failed to properly manage the Engorgement Charm in class.
"This is ridiculous!" Peter burst out, then threw down his quill in disgust and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know how Flitwick expects me to write six whole inches on how Engorgement Charms are supposed to be used…. They make things bigger, that's it!"
Sirius glanced up from his own work with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure that he wants you to wrap your mind around the fact that you have to control how much bigger you want something to be."
"But I already know that, because it's right there in the textbook. Look, I even put it in my essay already!" Though Sirius couldn't see the words from where he was lounging, Peter jabbed his finger at a place about two inches down his parchment to prove his point.
"You made your feather explode in class," Sirius reminded him dryly. "I'm still picking bits of it out of my hair."
But it was clear that Peter had given up on the assignment, and Sirius was already quite bored of Potions despite his solemn promise to himself that he'd put more effort into the class, so only a few minutes later they packed up their things and headed to the Great Hall for dinner a little earlier than they usually did.
Remus Lupin descended the central staircase just as they were approaching. His limp brown hair seemed even duller this year than it had the last, and Sirius eyed the new, faint scar on the boy's cheek with interest. Lupin claimed to anyone who asked that he'd gotten it in a flying accident over the summer, but Sirius had seen the other Gryffindor flying and didn't think that he was incompetent enough on a broom to have really managed to fly into a tree.
"Oh, hello!" called Lupin cheerfully, giving a little wave in their direction. He waited until Sirius and Peter came abreast of him and joined their walk.
Sirius eyed him with silent disdain, but Peter was nice enough to return the greeting. Lupin swallowed nervously but put on a brave face and acted like he hadn't been snubbed by the taller boy.
"Were you two off in your secret hideout?" he asked Peter with a teasing smile. "If I didn't know that you two do so well in class, I wouldn't believe you when you say that all you do is go off to study in peace."
For one terrifying moment, Sirius thought that he might have to step in and stop his friend from saying too much and giving away their secret about the Dark Arts, but it turned out that Peter was calmer under pressure than Sirius had given him credit for.
"Sirius was just helping me with my remedial Charms essay," he explained with barely a hint of a stutter.
"Oh, are you still having trouble with the Engorgement Charm?" Lupin asked unnecessarily. "I had trouble with it at first, too, but I checked out a library book that was really helpful. I can lend it to you if you like."
Peter turned to give Sirius a questioning look, clearly unsure about whether he should accept an offer of help from the friend of his friend's enemy. When Sirius's expression didn't change and he didn't shoot the smaller boy any quelling looks, Peter turned back to Lupin with a grateful smile. "That'd be great! Sirius helps a lot, but I'm absolute rubbish at Charms."
Lupin smiled in relief and said kindly, "I'm not very good at it either. Defense comes naturally to me, I think because it's more about intent. I have more trouble with Transfiguration and Charms, though."
If Sirius had liked the sickly boy enough to offer him any help, he would have informed him that actually all three were about intent. It was just that it required much less control in order to produce an effective offensive or defensive spell, so it was enough to really know what you wanted without paying much attention to the correct incantations or wand movements. Charms and Transfiguration, on the other hand, required precise incantations and wand movements in addition to a clear picture of what you wanted to happen, because the results you wanted were much more specific and intricate than in Defense.
But he didn't like the other boy, so he kept his mouth shut.
Lupin and Peter's chatter died down as they stepped into the Great Hall. Potter waved them over with a jovial smile. The git had somehow engineered it so that the only free seats at the entire table were around him, but Sirius would rather have starved than sit with him. He glanced at the Slytherin table, but of course there was no chance he could sit there—not anymore, thanks to Potter. He let out a sigh and made his way to the only other table that would have him.
Janice smiled brilliantly when he made his presence known by gently tugging on one of her curls. The girls sitting all around her giggled and stared at him in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable, but they made room for him without having to be asked. He wondered what his life had become that he would rather sit here than anywhere else.
"Where have you been, Siri?" asked Janice. Sirius wasn't sure when she had started calling him that, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. "I missed you today."
They hadn't had plans to get together today, but Sirius had realized weeks ago that she constantly wanted to be with him whether they'd planned it or not.
His smile was a bit forced, but she didn't seem to notice. "I studied with Peter after class."
She gripped his hand under the table, and he obligingly closed his fingers around hers as he started piling food onto his plate with the other hand.
"Did you hear anything about the team?"
Sirius sighed again. "Not yet."
And then the conversation quickly moved on around them. He was sure that Janice would have talked to him or about him the entire time, but her friends weren't nearly as interested in him exclusively. He ate his dinner in perplexed silence as they chattered on about various things he hadn't a clue about—Really, what in Merlin's name was Sleakeazy's anyway?—until their Ravenclaw started showing through and they began discussing assignments. Then he found himself engrossed in a conversation about Transfiguration with two of the girls who up to that point he'd thought were hopelessly silly.
After dinner he met up with Peter to walk back to the common room together. He seemed content to have continued his conversation with Remus Lupin, and to Sirius's disappointment their dorm mates trailed behind them as if they were one big happy group. Sirius was uncharacteristically silent all the way from the Great Hall to Gryffindor Tower, but the grouping turned out to be somewhat fortunate when Jack Thomas met them just inside the portrait hole.
"You two, let's talk outside," he said without preamble, then he clambered back out of the tower without bothering to check if they were following.
Of course they did follow, as they figured it had something to do with the Quidditch team. Once the trio was settled in a small alcove a few paces down from the Fat Lady's portrait, Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and looked sternly between the two younger boys.
"Right then, I need to know whether you two can work together. If you can't, then I can only choose one of you for the team."
Sirius and James looked at each other warily, and Sirius could tell that the same thoughts were going through Potter's head as his own. Which one of us would it be? Sirius acknowledged that he had far less natural talent on a broom than Potter did, but on the other hand he was well schooled and had a broomstick that was half again as fast as Potter's.
Potter grinned mischievously and clapped Sirius on the shoulder, letting his hand rest there as if they frequently engaged in this sort of display. "Course we can get along!" he declared. "We've made up and agreed to play nice."
Thomas looked between them skeptically. Clearly he'd noted Sirius's avoidance of the other boy and, when he couldn't avoid him, his silence.
For his part, Sirius would have groaned if he were prone to such unseemly outward displays of his emotions. What choice did he have except to play along? He had no guarantee that he would be the one chosen for the team if he denied that they had agreed to make up, and even though he had been resigned to the idea of not making the team, now that he knew he could be on it he wasn't willing to risk giving that up. He forced whatever semblance of a smile he could muster onto his face.
"Don't worry about us. We get along famously."
Thomas stared hard between them for several more seconds before his own grin broke out across his face.
"I'm glad to hear that! The Chasers really have to get along and work together more than anyone else on the team, you know," he informed them jovially. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, Potter, you're also reserve Seeker."

The Gryffindors had a grueling schedule of Quidditch practices every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. Sirius found that between classes, homework, Quidditch practices, and finding some free time to see Janice, several more weeks had passed before he realized it. He still hadn't been able to speak with Rabastan or Malfoy, although he had spoken to Avery and Mulciber, who had been made the Beaters for Slytherin.
"I don't know what's up with Lestrange, but he was absolutely beastly at trials," Will had told him when they'd stopped briefly in the Charms corridor to congratulate each other, although he'd clearly had no idea that Sirius had anything to do with the older boy's foul mood.
Mulciber had snorted and rolled his eyes. "And every day since then."
That hadn't made Sirius feel any better, but, on the other hand, the longer time went on the more annoyed he got that Rabastan was apparently angry with him over something Potter of all people had said.
Potter had been a constant fixture in his life since they had made the team. He was seemingly not the least bit put off by the fact that Sirius maintained his stony silence more often than not. In fact, the only time that Sirius had willingly spoken to him for weeks was when they were at Quidditch practice or going over plays to prepare for the practices. It was actually the most fun he'd had since dueling practice during the summer, but Sirius never would have admitted that to anyone who might tell Potter.
Still, his days fell into a more or less tolerable pattern until one day in mid-October when he found himself unable to shake the other boy's presence. He was itching to go down to the dungeons and practice some of the minor curses he'd found in a book in the library, but Potter seemed determined not to leave his side.
"We could play chess," he suggested cheerily, "or if you aren't up to that we could always do with a game of Exploding Snap."
Sirius's grip tightened on his quill as he continued his letter to Bellatrix, but he didn't respond to Potter.
Maybe you can suggest a spell that would make it painful for Potter to talk to me about anything other than Quidditch.
Potter flopped onto his four poster dramatically. "Come on, Sirius. There's got to be something less boring than writing letters."
If you can't, I'm afraid that I might snap and kill him soon.
Peter looked up in annoyance from his Defense homework (put off until the night before it was due, of course). "Where's Remus, anyway?"
Sirius really wasn't sure exactly when they'd all supposedly got onto a first-name basis. He determinedly did not look up from his letter.
I wouldn't mind killing him, of course, except that the reserve Chaser who'd replace him isn't very good.
"Oh, he's stuck in the hospital wing again," Potter replied quickly. "Say, Sirius, who're you writing to anyway?"
Sirius finally looked up, but only because he found it odd that Potter had so suddenly expressed an interest in his correspondence after having declared it boring mere moments before.
"My cousin, Bellatrix," he said as he examined the other boy's expression. "What's wrong with Lupin?"
Potter suddenly looked entirely too innocent for Sirius to believe a word he said. "Oh, you know, he just wasn't feeling well. I think the castle's a bit too drafty for him. Erm… Do you write to your cousin a lot?"
Sirius and Peter shared a suspicious glance. Sirius decided that he probably wasn't going to be able to get any more information out of Potter, and he was more likely to solve the mystery of Remus Lupin if he didn't seem too interested and antagonize the boy's friend.
"All the time," answered Sirius finally. "I know that they aren't up to your lofty standards," he added a second later, just to be contrary, "but I do love my family."
Potter visibly wilted, and Sirius was surprised at how much the jab actually seemed to have affected his nemesis. He actually looked down to avoid Sirius's gaze for a few moments, which was very unusual for the normally brash boy. Then he sighed and seemed to collect himself before looking up and meeting stormy gray with his own embarrassed hazel.
"Look, Sirius…" he began unsteadily, "I… That is to say… Did you know that my mother wasn't invited to your cousin's wedding?"
"Of course I did," Sirius responded with a scowl. "I was there after Belley got your mother's owl, and nobody was very happy about your mother expecting an invitation."
Potter winced. "Right, erm…" He fidgeted nervously and seemed to be trying to find something to do with his hands. "Your mum sent my mum an owl back, explaining why we hadn't been invited. She wasn't exactly nice about it..." He trailed off at Sirius's pointed glare, but continued a few seconds later. "The thing is, my mum wasn't exactly very nice to me after she read it. She was actually pretty furious, I reckon, and she really let me have it about how I treated you."
Sirius was extremely surprised, but he endeavored not to let either that or his curiosity show in his expression or his voice. "Really?"
"Yeah," Potter answered and ran a hand nervously through his messy hair. "She didn't speak to me for a whole week—after she yelled at me the first time, I mean. She explained a lot of stuff to me and told me that I had to apologize to you, but I guess I've been putting it off."
"So you only apologized because your mother told you that you had to?" Sirius asked incredulously.
It wasn't that he was surprised that Potter would only apologize to him because he'd been ordered to do it; it was just that he was surprised that anyone, even Potter, would actually admit such a thing to the person they were supposed to be apologizing to.
Potter sat up straighter as a look of alarm came across his features. "No! I mean, she told me how hard it must have been for you to get sorted into Gryffindor, and maybe at first I didn't really believe her and was just going to apologize because she said I had to, but then we've spent so much time together this term and I've decided that you're all right, and then there were those slimy Slytherins after Quidditch trials and—"
"Merlin! Okay!" Sirius exclaimed, afraid that Potter would just keep rambling if he didn't stop him.
They all sat in silence for several long seconds. Sirius pretended to be considering his letter while Potter considered him from across the room, and Peter stared between both of them anxiously.
Finally, Potter ventured to ask, "So… are we okay, then?"
Sirius stared hard at his dorm mate. He didn't really want to be okay with Potter, but he was terribly tired of all the antagonism and of not feeling comfortable in his own dorm room. And he had to admit that Potter was okay to be around when they were just talking about Quidditch, so perhaps he'd be able to tolerate the other boy if they talked about other things, as long as they maintained an air of friendliness.
Eventually he shrugged one shoulder, affecting a carelessness that he didn't really feel. "Yeah, sure."
Their official ceasefire was in full force the very next morning, when Sirius didn't protest when Potter joined him for breakfast. They both got surprised looks from their fellow Gryffindors and from the younger contingent at the Ravenclaw table, and Sirius could certainly understand why.
Janice offered a quizzical smile from across the aisle, and he offered a rueful smile in return.
Unfortunately, Lily Evans was sitting directly in his line of sight, between him and his girlfriend at the Ravenclaw table, and she scowled at him. She was sitting with the first years, as Emmeline and Mary apparently still hadn't forgiven her for staying friends with Snape after he'd called Mary a Mudblood last year. Sirius knew that she would probably have preferred to sit with her friend at the Slytherin table, but the other Slytherins wouldn't have stood for it. Just as the Gryffindors wouldn't stand for Snape to sit at their table. He didn't feel the least bit sorry for her and glared back unrepentantly.
After everyone got over their initial shock, breakfast went smoothly, as did Charms and Defense later than morning. Still, Sirius was glad when Lupin finally got out of the infirmary in time for lunch; he had never felt the same animosity for Lupin as he had for Potter, and he was more comfortable with both Peter and Lupin there to deflect attention away from him.
Plus he still hadn't forgotten the mystery the other boy presented. He commented about the other boy's illness, but Lupin only smiled blandly and said that he had a weak constitution, whatever that was supposed to mean. Even close observation over the next several days did not help Sirius glean any new information. Lupin seemed entirely normal.
The following Wednesday, Sirius and Peter were able to converse in Potions without the other two Gryffindor boys overhearing them, as Sirius had managed to get a table as far away from them as possible at the beginning of the year, before they'd made up.
"I think he isn't so bad now that we've got to know him a bit better," Peter whispered.
Sirius stopped stirring his potion when Peter stopped stirring his, then consulted his book to verify the next step.
"Yeah, I guess," he replied. "I just keep thinking that he'll turn on me again the first time something goes wrong."
He didn't mention that Bellatrix had written him back with several creative ideas that he might use against Potter if he ever did that. If only she'd had some idea what's wrong with Rabastan, Sirius thought sourly.
Peter passed him the Sopophorous beans. "I hope not. It's so much nicer when we all get along."
Sirius couldn't disagree with that, even though he still felt a twinge of anger at the idea of forgiving the boy who had made his life so miserable for so many months. Professor Slughorn drew closer to their table as he made his rounds through the classroom, so Sirius was spared having to come up with a reply. He carefully and silently watched Peter chop his beans, taking in the method his friend used and the shape and size he produced before mimicking him to the best of his ability. The professor bustled up to their table, his enormous belly preceding him, just as Sirius was finishing up.
"Excellent, excellent!" he exclaimed as he looked over the contents of their cauldrons and the ingredients still strewn across the workspace.
Then he moved onto the next table, and Peter's resulting scowl could have curdled milk. Sirius knew that he was incredibly jealous of the attention paid to Severus Snape and Lily Evans, and he felt that he deserved at least as much recognition for his own skill with potions. But Sirius knew all about Professor Slughorn from his cousins' stories over the years, and he knew that Peter was neither as brilliant as Snape nor as charming as Evans (nor well connected enough to make up for it), so he was unlikely to ever get the attention he wanted.
"He doesn't really care about his students," Sirius reminded his friend, as he had taken to doing every time Peter expressed his displeasure about Slughorn. "The be—"
"Best way to get revenge is to grow up to be brilliant and make him sorry he overlooked me," Peter finished for him, but his grateful smile belied the trace of annoyance in his voice. "Speaking of, do you think we'll be able to get away soon?"
Their Dark Arts studies had obviously been a bit interrupted by the fact that Potter and Lupin hounded their every step. They couldn't very well use the excuse that they wanted to get away to study when their new friends needed to study the same things as they did. Sirius found that even the minor curses they'd been working on—not what he considered truly Dark, really, but all they could manage to teach themselves at this point—made him feel good when he performed them, and the longer he went without practicing the more the desire seemed to coil under his skin like a persistent itch.
He didn't answer aloud, but he shared a glance full of promise with his friend. They had to find a way to be alone.
Surprisingly, it was Narcissa who gave them the chance, although she certainly hadn't intended that result when she had invited him to her birthday party. "Every year Mother sends along all sorts of things the Hogwarts elves don't make," she had told him. "This year I'll make sure she sends some of your favorites, too." Neither of them had actually mentioned the fact that he hadn't been invited the year before, but it had lingered in the air between them. Sirius had resisted the urge to ask if Rabastan was invited when he'd accepted the invitation.
Peter hadn't been invited, but it had been easy enough to convince Potter and Lupin that he had. "I'm sure she would have invited you, too, if she'd thought of it," Sirius had lied. "She invited Peter because she remembered him from the league final last year."
James had still looked skeptical that Narcissa Black would invite a Half-blood to her birthday party, but Peter had quite convincingly piped in, "And she saw us together over the summer, remember?"
"Yes, quite. She probably just wants to make me feel more comfortable in Slytherin by having a friend with me," Sirius had agreed readily, silently thinking that Peter's skills in deception were coming along quite nicely.
In the end, the Saturday before Halloween found Sirius and Peter making their way to the dungeons without the other half of their quartet. They parted ways at a junction where Sirius would turn right towards the Slytherin common room and Peter would head left towards the unused classroom they'd claimed as their own. Peter had promised that he could keep himself occupied for an hour or two while Sirius enjoyed the party, and Sirius had promised to leave early so they would have an hour or two to practice before curfew.
Sirius found that as excited as he was about the party, he was even more excited about what would come later.
The Slytherin common room was much more to Sirius's taste than its Gryffindor counterpart, as he found that the elaborate, grand fireplaces and black and green leather couches reminded him of home. There was an aura pervading the space that reminded him of Dark magic, and it was comforting and made him think of his grandfather's study at Grimmauld Place.
Narcissa had taken over an entire large corner of the space as her own for the evening, and there she had laid out a feast of cakes and candies and other sweets. Sirius left his and his family's presents (owled to him by his mother just that morning) on the table set aside for that purpose and joined the group of Slytherins who had positioned themselves on various couches and cushions near a small fireplace.
Narcissa, who was sitting regally in an ornate throne that had clearly been transfigured just for the occasion, smiled at his approach. "Come sit by me, Siri."
Sirius had been planning on sitting next to Rabastan or, failing that, in the place that Avery and Mulciber had clearly saved for him on their couch, but he found himself directed to a narrow space between Malfoy and Andy. He and Lucius both shifted to get comfortable as their legs pressed tightly against each other's, but a look from the older boy quelled Sirius's complaints.
Rabastan hung back on the fringes of the group. He refused to meet Sirius's gaze no matter how long Sirius stared at him, and instead he seemed to be paying an inordinate amount of attention to an older boy Sirius didn't know. Sirius felt jealousy and anger flare up inside him, and he was surprised that Malfoy didn't seem to mind that his best friend was ignoring him in favor of someone else. Surely he wasn't wrong to feel so jealous?
He couldn't enjoy the rest of the party. After Narcissa had opened her gift from the Lestranges, the strange boy whispered something in Rabastan's ear and, ignoring a pointed glare from his sister, he allowed himself to be led away. Sirius thought that he did a good job keeping a scowl off his face for his cousin's sake, but as soon as Narcissa opened his presents (a set of exquisite robes from his parents, surely chosen by his mother, and from Sirius a picture of Narcissa, Malfoy, and himself together at their picnic over the summer, which he had asked his mother to have framed) he found himself wishing that he could disappear, too.
Instead he waited until all of the presents had been opened, because he didn't want to disappoint Cissy.
She received various gifts, both large and small, not the least of which was a diamond necklace from Malfoy, which earned him a kiss right there in front of everybody. Sirius was, of course, provided an up close and personal view due to his place next to Malfoy, and he was afraid for a moment that they were going to carry on quite disgustingly. Then someone whistled and Narcissa pulled back with a brilliant blush. She released the sides of Malfoy's face and sat back elegantly in her throne, but her face was quite red with embarrassment for several minutes afterwards.
Sirius wondered if she'd asked Bellatrix about snogging or if it was actually perfectly normal to use one's tongue that way.
When he was finally able to slip out of the Slytherin common room and join Peter for Dark Arts practice, the itch under his skin had increased to heretofore unknown proportions.
"How was the party?" Peter asked when he stepped into the room, but Sirius ignored him and headed straight over to the cage of mice they'd smuggled into the dungeons.
Several Ear-shriveling and Jelly-Legs Curses later, he felt a bit better. At least enough to give Peter the details he would need to make Potter and Lupin believe that he'd really attended the party.
The semi-contented feeling remained through the Halloween feast the next week. He had been too caught up in his own situation to have enjoyed it last year; he had, like usual, stayed in the Great Hall only as long as it had taken him to grab what food he could carry and retreat. This year he fully appreciated the live bats and boulder-sized jack-o-lanterns, and all the pumpkins brimming over with candy.
Although he hadn't thought he would, he also especially appreciated the sense of belonging and friendship as he and Potter sat with their heads together watching the Slytherin table as everyone finally began filing out of the Great Hall.
Rosier turned around, and though they couldn't hear what he was saying from all the way across the cavernous space, Sirius assumed he was asking why Snape was still seated at the table.
Sirius and James both snickered at the flush that traveled up Snape's pale neck, discernable all the way from the Gryffindor table.
Avery and Mulciber apparently neither noticed nor cared that their dorm mates weren't following close behind them, because they had kept walking without so much as a backward glance. Snape must have convinced Rosier to leave him behind, because a few moments later he shrugged and followed the other two out of the Great Hall, and Snape remained at the table.
The two Gryffindors stayed in the Great Hall only long enough to watch Snape sit unmoving in place while the rest of the Slytherins began to file out, then they beat a hasty retreat, slipping out behind a group of older students. They maintained their silence—except, perhaps, for a few irrepressible snickers—until they had made their way back to the tower and escaped their fellow Gryffindors by closing the door of their dormitory behind them.
"Did you see his face!" crowed Potter, more exclamation than question. Of course Sirius had seen his face!
Sirius barked out a laugh. "I only wish we'd been able to stay long enough to see the end!"
Peter, who had known about the prank and had been a little jealous for the past several days that he'd been supplanted from his place at Sirius's side by James, was now looking at both of them with an air of awe. Remus, who James had insisted from the beginning would not be at all supportive of their efforts and had accordingly been left out of their plans, was looking back and forth between them with an air of discomfort.
"Right under the professors' noses!" cried Peter. He bounced a little on his bed in his excitement.
That sent Sirius and James into another round of joyful laughter.
Remus continued to look uncomfortable. "What did you do?" he asked in a tone that suggested he didn't really want to know.
As it had been James's idea originally to prank Snape during the Halloween feast, following a rather horrible row between them in the Charms corridor, and it had been he who had actually done the casting, he explained about the Stickfast Hex they'd managed to cast on the other boy. However, since it had been Sirius who had modified the hex from its intended purpose (sticking someone's shoes to the floor) to sticking Snape's robes to his seat, it was he who explained how they had made their plan work.
Lupin looked between them with a disapproving expression on his face. "What if the professors had caught you?"
"They didn't," Sirius replied flatly.
"But what if they had?" the smaller boy persisted. "Besides that, what if Snape figures out who did it and decides to retaliate?"
James snorted. "I'm not worried about Snivellus."
"But what if—"
Peter interrupted then, with an exasperated roll of his eyes for Sirius's benefit. "Lay off, Remus! They didn't get caught, and anyway it was a brilliant bit of spell work."
Remus's expression continued to show his clear disapproval, but he shrugged in defeat and sank onto the end of his four poster. "Think what you could do if you used your talents for good instead of ill."
"I don't know how to use my talents for good," Sirius informed him.
James laughed, as Sirius had known he would, and he smirked back in acknowledgement. It was probably the most truthful thing he was likely to ever say to his new friends, yet Potter had no idea of the true meaning behind his words. He could see Peter's own smirk out of the corner of his eyes, and he mentally reveled again in their shared secrets.

The Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match was held the second Saturday in November. It was the first game of the season, so the entire school was abuzz with excitement during breakfast. James, on the other hand, was sitting in uncharacteristic silence at the Gryffindor table, looking a bit green around the gills. He had seemed perfectly fine—arrogantly confident, even—the night before, but Sirius supposed that their looming first match was finally affecting the other boy.
"Lighten up, mate," he said cheerfully, slapping James on the back as he took a seat on the bench beside him. "You'll be fine."
Sirius was, of course, feeling a bit nervous himself, but he was confident that he knew their plays well enough that he wasn't going to completely screw up. Thomas had been practicing them to the brink of exhaustion for weeks leading up to the game, until the rest of the team had insisted that they weren't going to be able to sit their brooms at all by the time of the match if they didn't get some rest.
James still seemed a bit overwhelmed when they made their way to the Gryffindor changing rooms, but Sirius did his best to ignore him lest his friend's nerves rub off on him.
As they made their way towards the door, Thomas stopped and turned to look back at them.
"Right," he began, "we've put together a good team, and we've put our all into practice. Slytherin always plays dirty"—here the older members of the team made various rude noises—"but we're good enough to beat them without any dirty tricks. Let's just go out there and do what we normally do in practice."
As far as pep talks went, Sirius found it rather anticlimactic, but it seemed to have calmed James down so that at least he was no longer gripping his broom so tightly that his knuckles were white.
The filed onto the pitch to the loud cheers of the Gryffindors and the jeers of the Slytherins, and Sirius felt really nervous for the first time as he realized the size of the crowd who would be watching. He watched almost as if in a dream as Thomas shook hands with Malfoy and Lestrange, and he didn't hear a word that came out of Madam Hooch's mouth. He did register her whistle several seconds later, though, and kicked off into the air along with everyone else.
Elizabeth Frobisher, a sixth-year Gryffindor, managed to catch the Quaffle first. She immediately flew towards Slytherin's hoops, and Sirius followed her into the formation they'd previously decided they would use for their first attack. He was acting almost on instinct, though he was dimly aware of James falling into place on the other side of Frobisher just before she tossed the Quaffle hard in his direction.
"Potter's got the Quaffle!" the commentator, a Hufflepuff, told the crowd.
As they approached the end of the pitch James suddenly went into a steep ascent, a move they had planned both as part of their play and in anticipation of any possible Bludgers that might be sent his way. Using the superior speed of his Nimbus 1001, Sirius streaked upwards and over Frobisher to pass in front of his friend.
"Black makes a move, and Potter passes the Quaffle to Bla—" The commentator cut himself off suddenly as James dropped the Quaffle. "And Frobisher's got the Quaffle…. FROBISHER SCORES! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindors roared.
Their strategy had worked just as they'd planned. The Slytherins had all thought that Sirius was going to take the Quaffle and had descended on him en masse, while their Keeper had moved to cover the rings nearest him. Frobisher had been able to quickly catch the Quaffle and pass it through the undefended hoop farthest from Sirius before the Slytherins been able to correct their mistake.
"That was an interesting take on the Porskoff Ploy!" cried the commentator, and the Gryffindors roared louder.
Just like that Sirius felt relaxed and confident on his broom. After sharing an exhilarated grin with James, he quickly sailed over his friend's head and took his position covering Emma Vanity, a Slytherin Chaser, just as her team received the Quaffle.
Even though Gryffindor had that early success, the match proved to be difficult and hard fought. The Slytherin Chasers were equipped with a Nimbus 1001 and two Nimbus 1000s, just as Malfoy and Lestrange had told him over the summer, and they were not opposed to fouling and dirty tricks, just as Thomas had warned them. The Slytherins had quickly adopted the same man-to-man defensive strategy as the Gryffindors, and unfortunately for Sirius, Rabastan was assigned to cover him, as his broom matched Sirius's.
Half an hour, six fouls, and innumerable nasty words later, the score was only Gryffindor fifty and Slytherin forty.
Then Sirius found himself feet away from the business end of Mulciber's bat. He reacted as quickly as he could, but as he watched the Beater's bat connect with the Bludger seemingly in slow motion, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to move in time.
He was suddenly falling backwards, and the Bludger flew just above his head.
A whistle blew.
"FOUL!" cried Madam Hooch. "BLAGGING!"
Sirius swiveled his head around in time to see Rabastan releasing the tail of his broomstick. They locked eyes for just a moment before the Slytherin flew around Sirius towards his Beater. Sirius was still somewhat in a state of shock, but as soon as Madam Hooch placed the Quaffle in his hands he managed to regain his purpose. He barely made his penalty shot by squeaking the Quaffle just inside the bottom of the left ring, just outside the reach of the Keeper's right foot.
"BLACK SCORES! GRYFFINDOR SIXTY, SLYTHERIN FORTY!"
The Gryffindors roared again as Sirius flew in a loop to rejoin his teammates, but all he noticed was Rabastan gesticulating wildly at Mulciber, who looked torn between confusion and anger at the way his captain was shouting him down.
Then the Slytherins' cheers drowned out the Gryffindors', and all the players on the pitch turned as one to watch a streak of blond and green plummet towards the ground.
"MALFOY'S GOT THE SNITCH!" cried the commentator. "SLYTHERIN WINS A HUNDRED AND NINETY TO SIXTY!"
Amanda Towler, Gryffindor's Seeker, pulled up short. She was still a good twenty yards away from Malfoy, and it was clear that she had been coming from the opposite side of the pitch. She scowled in disappointment, and with her red hair, round cheeks, and small eyes, Sirius thought that the expression made her look like an orangutan.
The atmosphere was decidedly subdued in the Gryffindor changing room, and Sirius hurried out of his Quidditch robes and escaped as soon as he could. He met Mulciber and Avery just as they emerged from the Slytherin rooms.
"Good game!" exclaimed Will, his grin even wider than usual. "You played very well."
Nigel sported a rather unattractive mix of chagrin and defiance. "It wasn't personal, you know. It's just Quidditch," he declared.
No one needed to ask what it was.
Sirius nodded. "I know."
The Slytherins left soon after that, no doubt excited to get to whatever celebration party was being thrown in their common room. But Sirius couldn't get the look in Rabastan's eyes out of his mind, and he found himself lingering outside the Slytherin changing rooms almost against his will. He panicked when he heard his own teammates emerging and quickly stepped into the arch leading into the Slytherins' rooms. His fellow Gryffindors trudged by without noticing him.
I'm being silly, he thought. If he wanted to talk to me he wouldn't have been avoiding me all term. What's he going to think if he finds me skulking outside his changing room, if he's even in there?
He had just determined to leave when he heard the smooth voice raised in anger.
"This can't go on, Rabastan!"
"You know I'm not going to do anythi—"
"I know that," his friend cut him off, "but it's clearly affecting you!"
Rabastan was silent for a few moments, then he said in a deceptively calm voice, "It isn't affecting me."
Lucius's laugh held more incredulity than humor. "Lestrange, you handed him ten points to keep him from getting hit by a Bludger, and then you threatened to kick Mulciber off the team for doing his job."
"That Bludger could have killed him!"
"Furthermore," Malfoy went on as if he hadn't heard him, "it's doing you no good to deny it when your sister and Cissy can see right through you anyway. You had much better accept it and bloody well deal with it!"
Silence reigned for eight heartbeats, which Sirius could easily count as the organ was pounding against his chest as if it were trying to break free from his body.
"You're right." Rabastan sighed as if he were in pain.
"I know I am. And you're an idiot if you think being an ass to him is going to help anything."
Malfoy's voice was closer now, and Sirius realized that he was heading out of the changing rooms. His heart leapt into his throat and he stood frozen for several seconds before he regained control of his senses and darted out of the Slytherin archway and into the Hufflepuff one right next door. The two older boys were no longer talking, but he could hear the rustle of their robes as they headed towards the castle. He peered cautiously around the corner in time to see them disappear around the side of the building, then he sank back against the cold stones to calm his racing heart.
He obviously knew that he had been the subject of the conversation, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was about. What was Rabastan trying to hide, and was whatever-it-was the reason Lucilla and Narcissa had been so angry with him all term? More importantly, what in Merlin's name could the Slytherin be trying to accomplish by purposefully being an ass towards him?
He had come up with no more answers by the time he finally returned to the castle to find Janice waiting for him just inside the doors.
"Sirius!" she called his name when he appeared. "I was beginning to think that I'd missed you."
He stared at her dumbly. "Have you been waiting for me this whole time?"
She nodded shyly as she approached him, and he hadn't formed a response by the time she came to a stop mere inches away from him and took his free hand in both of hers.
"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am. You played so well, and I'm sure you would have won if Malfoy hadn't got the Snitch when he did."
Sirius knew that already, but it was something altogether different to hear someone else say it aloud. He smiled at his girlfriend in genuine appreciation. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." She giggled and glanced down for a moment, then before Sirius had time to react she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.
He almost dropped his broom.
Even later, long after she had released him and all but skipped into the Great Hall to join the rest of the student body for dinner, he still didn't know exactly what to make of it. It had only lasted a few moments, and it hadn't been unpleasant. Her lips were soft, and they were fuller and plumper than his. He supposed that it had actually been quite nice. He just didn't know what had possessed her to do it, or why she'd run off immediately afterwards without another word to him.
Sirius determined that he had better not tell anyone about it. He well remembered the teasing he'd received at the hands of the other Gryffindors, especially Potter, and anyway maybe she had only done it in a fit of insanity because she'd felt sorry for him for losing. Maybe she would regret it now and not want to repeat it.
Fortunately, he found out as soon as he returned to his common room, it seemed that the rest of the Gryffindors squarely blamed Towler for their loss to Slytherin and had absolved all the rest of the team of any responsibility. Sirius was still regarded as a hero by virtue of being a member of the team, and even more so now that he had acquitted himself so well in his first match.
James, however, was not content to bask in the glory of a good performance as long as it was under the shadow of a loss. He was quite vitriolic on the subject of Towler.
"If I had been Seeker," he said for the umpteenth time several weeks later, "I'm sure we would have won."
Neither Sirius nor Peter responded, and James had surely only felt safe repeating his argument at this particular time because Remus had taken ill again and was put up in the infirmary. Where Sirius and Peter's primary tactic included silence, Remus had become so annoyed in the last few days that he had taken to snapping at James quite irritably anytime he brought up the subject.
Taking the silence as acquiescence, he continued. "I did better than Towler at trials, and I think we all ought to get together and demand that Thomas move me to her position for the next game."
That was a new part of his argument, and Sirius raised an eyebrow in surprise.
They had reached the stairs of the Astronomy Tower by then. As they headed upwards, Sirius's voice echoed off the stones surrounding them. "Thomas'd never do that. You're better than Towler at Seeker, but the reserve Chaser is loads worse than you at Chasing. We've already got the best team possible, considering."
James scowled quite unattractively, but he was quiet for the rest of the climb and sulked in silence as they attempted to fill out their star charts with the light of the full moon obscuring many of the stars.
The next day was Sirius's thirteenth birthday. Despite the late night in Astronomy the night before, he got up bright and early in order to receive his owl post at breakfast. Sure enough, he received loads of presents from his family. To his surprise, he also received a few from his Slytherin friends, who had apparently decided to send them by owl rather than try to track him down throughout the day. Avery and Malfoy had both sent packages, and there was one that said it was from the Lestrange siblings, except it was clearly written in Lucilla's hand. Sirius tried not to be disappointed that Rabastan hadn't sent him anything personally, even though he knew from Narcissa's party that the siblings' common practice must be to send one gift together.
Of course he also received presents from Peter, James, and, after he finally rejoined them during lunch, Remus. All in all it had been a wonderful birthday—much better than the year before, to be sure—even before he joined Janice in the library that afternoon. Their meetings had necessarily been scaled back quite a bit due to his Quidditch practices, but they still tried to meet at least twice a week, either during shared breaks or after classes.
Today she was waiting with a beautifully wrapped gold package with a bright red bow.
"Happy birthday, Siri!" she said as excitably as she could without Madam Pince hearing.
Sirius grinned happily and carefully unwrapped the package. (He would normally tear into his packages without abandon, but he had ascertained over the years with his mother, aunts, and cousins that girls preferred it if he were much more respectful of the elaborate jobs they'd done with the wrapping.) It was a book on Muggle motorbikes. Sirius stared at it in surprise.
Janice shifted anxiously next to him "Do you like it? I tried to think what you wouldn't already have, and I noticed that you read that book on Muggle transportation whenever you're waiting for me here…."
She trailed off uncertainly, but by that time Sirius had regained his composure. He smiled at her.
"I love it."
He had flipped the cover open and perused the table of contents for several seconds before the thought occurred to him.
He glanced back at her. "Er, Jan… When is your birthday?"
"Oh, it was back in September." She frowned at his guilty look and rushed on to say, "Oh, don't be sorry; you didn't know!"
"No, but I should have thought to ask," Sirius admitted. Although Blacks didn't apologize, as he had been taught many times, he distinctly remembered that Father had apologized to Mother and Grandfather Arcturus had apologized to Grandmother Melania, before she had died, several times to great effect. Therefore, he felt justified in saying, "I'm sorry."
She flushed prettily. "You're so sweet."
Sirius rather doubted that he was any such thing, but he didn't have time to say so before she had pressed her lips against his. He had spent a rather alarming amount of time over the past weeks thinking about the first and only other time she had done this, so although he was surprised, he was prepared. He kissed her back willingly, and this time their lips stayed pressed together much longer than a few seconds.
He wandered back to the common room a couple of hours later with a large grin on his face and no more homework done than he'd had before. If his dorm mates were curious about his odd mood, they didn't have time to ask about it before he found the plain brown package on his bed.
"What's this?" he asked as he let his book bag drop on top of his trunk.
When none of his friends seemed to have any idea, Remus suggested, "Maybe someone asked the house-elves to leave it for you."
There wasn't any writing on the brown paper, nor was there any card attached. Sirius curiously tore into the package, but he abruptly stopped all movement when he saw what was inside.
"What is it?" asked Peter.
When Sirius didn't answer or make any move to pull the contents out of the box, his three friends crowded around to peer inside.
James was the first pull back, sneering a bit in distaste. "Who would send you that? It must be from a Slytherin, so you'd better be careful it doesn't bite you or something."
He didn't reply, but the metal serpent hissed up at him from its place nestled inside the box. When he reached inside, it willingly wrapped itself around his wrist, and Sirius's heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest.

Author's Notes: Well, there you have it: Sirius and James have made up and decided to play nicely. And, you know, a lot of other stuff also happened.
Thank you for the follows, favorites, and reviews! Please do drop me a line to let me know if there's anything you particularly like or dislike; I really appreciate all of the feedback I've received.
Porskoff Ploy: When one Catcher flies upwards to draw the other team off, then drops the Quaffle to another Catcher waiting directly below. The Gryffindors have an "interesting take" on it because of the inclusion of a third Chaser (Sirius) in the ploy.
Blagging: Grabbing the end of another player's broom to impede their movement. Hooch was a bit harsh to call this on Rabastan under the circumstances, but I'm sure that the previous six fouls in half an hour had her a bit on edge.
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The Other Side: Thick and Thin (Book 1)