Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Unfortunately for Walburga, Christmas that year fell on a Monday. She was undoubtedly glad to meet her son at King's Cross on Friday, but she was far less pleased that apparently every other family in wizarding Britain had also decided to descend on Diagon Alley over the weekend.
"I have no idea why they let the riffraff come down this way," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste as people in the crowd brushed past her. "Most of them cannot afford to buy anything in this part of the alley."
She clutched Sirius's arm even tighter, as if she were afraid that someone might snatch him away from her. He was as tall as she was now, but he doubted that his mother would ever see him as anything other than a baby who needed protecting.
"I'm sure they just want to look at the holiday decorations, Mother." His voice cracked on her name, and he scowled in irritation. It had started doing that a couple of weeks after his birthday at the end of November. "I'm sure it'll be more crowded tomorrow, on Christmas Eve."
She sniffed. "You know how I hate coming here when the common people are about."
She had only agreed to the trip because he had grown so much over the term, and she couldn't stand seeing his ankles and wrists poking out of his clothes. Sirius still had shopping to do, but he really couldn't think how he would purchase a gift for Janice with his mother on his arm, if he could even figure out what he was supposed to buy her in the first place. He could hardly ask his mother for advice on what sort of present would be appropriate for a girlfriend.
At least not for another few years, when the girlfriend was some snotty pure-blood she'd picked out for him and the gift was an engagement ring. He frowned momentarily at the thought but regained control of his expression before his mother noticed.
"All right, Mother," he said finally, turning to guide them back in the direction of the Apparition area. "You know I hate for you to be uncomfortable."
It was not easy to escape his mother's clutches even after they returned to Grimmauld Place, as she insisted on him sitting with her for the rest of the afternoon and then sitting next to her at dinner. Apparently the fact that he was visibly growing up had inspired her to heretofore unseen levels of maternal hovering. Sirius's agitation continued to increase as the hours passed. Finally, after his mother had mercifully retired for the evening with Kreacher bouncing along behind her carrying the train of her evening robe, he crept to his father's study and lightly knocked on the door.
"Come," came the serious voice from within.
Sirius sighed in relief—he hadn't been sure that his father would still be up at this hour—and pushed until the heavy oak door admitted him to his father's private sanctum. Then he stopped in the doorway, halfway in and halfway out of the room, and worried his slipper-clad toe into the thick carpet.
Orion regarded him with an expression halfway between amusement and concern. "What did you do?"
It was a fair enough question, Sirius had to admit.
"Erm, nothing," he replied, although this response didn't convince either his father or himself. (After all, it wasn't strictly truethat he hadn't done anything, even if he hadn't actually come to confess any of his misdeeds.) He looked up from the carpet—which was really a lovely shade of green, and he wondered briefly if it was dyed or spelled, then mentally shook himself to stop avoiding what he'd come here to do—to meet his father's bemused eyes, and suddenly it all came spilling out.
"Only I have this girlfriend—I mean, I didn't want her to be my girlfriend, at first, and I never asked her or anything, but she kind of just made herself my girlfriend, and now I feel like I've got to buy her a Christmas gift because she bought me a birthday present and I've been snogging her in the library, and I suppose you really ought to buy presents for people you've—"
"You—WHAT?" Orion interrupted.
His eyebrows had risen during that little speech until they had disappeared underneath the longish black hair that, at this time of night, had escaped from its proper place and was falling across his forehead.
Sirius waved his hands helplessly. "I have this—"
Orion held up his hand for silence, only to realize with a start that the quill he'd forgotten he'd been holding was by now terribly misshapen between his fingers.
"I heard you the first time," he said in mixed surprise and exasperation. He came up with half a dozen colorful expressions in the few seconds it took him to take out his wand and repair the splotches of ink he'd created on the parchment he'd been working on, then he looked up suddenly at his son, who was still hovering in the doorway and looking like he might turn and bolt any second.
"What are you doing? Come in and close the door before someone else hears you…. Merlin, if your mother…"
Really, Sirius didn't need any more incentive than that.
After he'd settled himself into a deep velvet chair, father and son stared at each other across the great ebony desk. Orion cleared his throat as if he were getting ready to speak, then settled back into his seat as if someone had pulled his plug and let out all his air. Sirius felt a flush creeping up his neck.
"So…" the elder eventually began, after it was clear that his son had nothing more to say. "Why exactly did you tell me this?"
"Oh, right, I uh… don't have any idea what sort of Christmas gift I should buy her."
Under his father's stern gaze, Sirius thought briefly that it might have been a better idea to ask Bellatrix or even Narcissa—well maybe not Narcissa; he was mad at her, seeing as he was fairly certain that she had something to do with whatever was going on with Rabastan—about what sort of present was appropriate for a recent sort-of-girlfriend who had really soft lips. He'd have asked Rabastan, except the other boy wouldn't talk to him, and he couldn't ask Malfoy because Malfoy'd tell Narcissa for sure….
Orion cleared his throat again to draw his son's mind back down to Earth. "Ah, I see. Well, what did she give you for your birthday?"
"A book," Sirius answered easily, much calmer now that they were actually talking about unembarrassing facts. He thought that it would probably be best not to mention to his father that it was a book on Muggle motorbikes, but he did add, "She'd noticed that I always pick a certain book off the shelf when I'm waiting for her, so she got me one on the subject."
But that had just brought Orion's attention back to the embarrassing bits, and he asked, "The library, eh? What sort of snoggi—?"
"Father!" The blush crept back up into Sirius's face.
"Right. That kind." Orion grinned. "Well, she chose a personal gift based on observations she'd made about you, so you really have to pick something similarly personal. What do you notice about her?"
Don't say she has a nice mouth. Don't say she has a nice mouth.
"Curls!" Sirius blurted. "I mean, she has really curly hair, and it's always going everywhere and she's always messing with it."
Orion was beaming at him now in a way that made Sirius distinctly uncomfortable but also, inexplicably, sort of satisfied.
"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "Tomorrow you can snag one of your mother's ladies' magazines. They have all sorts of female frippery on offer in there, and I'm sure you can find some sort of decoration to do with curly hair. Your mother certainly finds more than enough."
It was a good plan, except, "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve."
"Oh, well, you just include a bucketful of Galleons with your order and they do it up all pretty for you and send it directly to her the same day," Orion explained.
Sirius raised his own eyebrows then, a smile creeping onto his features. "Experienced with last-minute presents, are you?"
His father chuckled, gesturing with his hands to shoo his son out of his study. "Sirius, you are not the only devilishly handsome man in this family, nor the only one whose mouth outpaces his mind."
Sirius had just rounded the doorway into the corridor, laughing still, when his father called him back. He poked his head back around the doorframe and met his father's slightly worried gray eyes.
"Who is it anyway? Is she a pure-blood?"
He blinked for a moment in surprise, although, upon reflection, he really shouldn't have been the least bit caught off guard by the question. "Janice Edgecomb."
"Ah, a few generations pure then." His father nervously pushed his hair off his forehead. "Son, you realize that you can't marry her?"
Sirius gaped at him for a moment, then, his voice cracking, exclaimed, "I'm thirteen!"
His father's lips turned up, just a bit. "Just don't get too attached. And best not mention it to your grandfather. Er… or your mother. Or your other grandfather…. Actually, why don't we just keep it between us?"
Sirius was still pondering his father's words the next day, long after he'd filched one of his mother's magazines and sent off his owl order for a pair of sapphire hair combs that were charmed to style curls in various ways "without flattening or frizzing," according to the advertisement. His father had assured him that the gift was expensive enough to impress her but not so over-the-top as to seem like he was showing off, and he had further suggested that Sirius write a handwritten note to be delivered with the package.
Sirius was coming to realize that there was much more to his father than just his relationship with Sirius's mother.
He quickly put aside those thoughts later that evening when he arrived in Grandfather Pollux and Grandmother Irma's drawing room. Rodolphus was, of course, in attendance with Bellatrix. And it appeared that the Malfoys had been Officially Accepted into the Family, since Mr. Malfoy was in one corner talking to Grandfather while, on the other side of the room, his son had his head bent low to listen to Cissy whisper in his ear.
Sirius brushed past his brother and made his way over to his favorite cousin and her husband.
"Siri!" Bellatrix greeted him with a wide grin.
He ignored her, as he was so focused on her husband. "You." He pointed a finger at the large man's chest. "What's wrong with your brother?"
"Wrong?" Rodolphus growled, eyeing the finger as if he was considering snapping it off. "There's nothing wrong with my brother."
Sirius glared at him. "Well, you tell him that he'd better get over whatever's not wrong with him before I decide I'm better off without him anyway."
If he had been less angry, then perhaps he would have discerned from his new cousin's slack-jawed expression that there had been some sort of fundamental miscommunication. But he was very angry that Rabastan had avoided him for the last weeks of term even after sending him such a wonderful birthday present. He had made a habit out of disappearing around corners or behind doors whenever Sirius almost had him cornered. (If that boy didn't turn out to have an Invisibility Cloak, Sirius would eat his boots.) He realized with a start that he had been absently rubbing his wrist where the serpent bracelet should be, if he hadn't refused to wear it as long as the older boy was ignoring him, and he crossed his arms across his chest to stop himself.
Bellatrix shared a glance with Rodolphus. "Siri, darling—"
"And," Sirius spoke over her, rising his voice just a bit, "tell him to stop acting like a scared Hufflepuff who does whatever his stupid sister says!"
The older man's glacial eyes were glittering now, and there was the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth that Sirius would have missed if he hadn't been so used to the younger brother's expressions. "Why don't you tell him yourself?"
"I would if he wasn't hiding from me!"
They were called for dinner then, and with one last sweep of his furious gaze over both of them (his anger quite irrationally extending to Bellatrix because of her association with Rodolphus, who was in turn associated with Rabastan) Sirius stalked away to find a seat at the table.
His trouble this year, unlike last year when no one had wanted to sit with him, was avoiding the people he didn't want to sit beside. He steadfastly avoided Cissy and Lucius, as he was furious at her over the Lestrange situation and was avoiding her boyfriend by association. He avoided Belley and Rodolphus for the same reason. He avoided his father because the older man kept sending him secretive little smiles that made Sirius quite uncomfortable, and he avoided his mother because he'd rather not eat Christmas Eve dinner with her hovering over him as if he were a toddler.
He ended up more or less happily situated between Grandmother Irma and Mr. Malfoy. The feast was laid out as sumptuously as ever, and he thought that he would have quite enjoyed it had it not been for the absolutely excruciating conversation around the table.
"It's so wonderful to have you and your delightful son join our family tonight," Grandmother Irma expressed the sentiment for what must have been the dozenth time. Mr. Malfoy offered her a tight smile over Sirius's head.
Across the table, Aunt Druella and Bellatrix had managed to corner Andy between them, and she was clearly unhappy with the situation.
"Dear, there really must be at least one boy whom you find acceptable," her mother was saying. "Surely you don't want to be alone? Bella, tell her how wonderful it is to be married."
Rodolphus offered his wife a self-satisfied grin.
Bella rolled her eyes at him and turned to face her sister. "Honestly, Andy, if you don't like any of the men your own age, I could introduce you to a few of my associates who are a bit older."
Andy looked quite pale. With a barely discernable "Please excuse me," she pushed her plate away and rushed from the table, leaving her mother and sister staring after her in confusion and consternation.
Rodolphus noticed Sirius staring and, with a dangerous smirk in his direction, asked, "What about Sirius? Isn't the age difference between him and Andromeda the same as between his own parents?"
From Rodolphus's other side, Regulus let a laugh escape before he was able to control himself. Sirius only had time to silently scowl at both of them before his attention was drawn by his name being spoken further down the table.
"You absolutely must send me an owl immediately if Sirius needs new clothing before the summer holiday. He won't do it himself, you know. Boys are quite useless at these things," Walburga was saying quite loudly so that Narcissa could hear her from across and a little down the table.
Rodolphus's smirk grew. Lucius tried to raise his goblet to his mouth to hide his laugh, but didn't quite succeeded.
Narcissa, on the other hand, tutted in sympathy.
"Hush, Lucius!" she commanded sharply. Then, without pause, she turned to her aunt and continued, "I understand perfectly, Aunt. I keep a magical measuring tape at school for just this sort of thing."
Mr. Malfoy and the other men who had heard the exchange shared looks of amusement as a flush crept up Lucius's neck, but the women all nodded along with Cissy and continued their conversation about clothing, as if there was nothing worth remarking upon about her treatment of her errant boyfriend.
Sirius sank further into his chair and tried to tune everybody out so that he could enjoy his goose in peace.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was something of a welcome relief for Sirius on his first morning back at Hogwarts a week and a half later. The rest of his holiday had not gone much better than the beginning, his Christmas presents notwithstanding. His mother had continued to hover and fret, and his father had continued to express his amusement over their late night conversation. Furthermore, he had wanted to schedule at least one meeting with Dolohov, but the dueling instructor had sent an owl a few days after Christmas to say that he had unavoidable engagements in the first days of January and wouldn't be able to get away. Grandfather Arcturus had accordingly taken the opportunity to test Sirius's dueling knowledge, which wasn't nearly as fun for Sirius as his sessions with Dolohov.
What was worse, Regulus's jealousy towards his older brother had returned with full force as a result of all the attention Sirius had received. He had only just begun to loosen up a bit, and Sirius was disappointed that they were back to the hostility of last year.
James, on the other hand, seemed to be quite unhappy to be back at school.
"Ugh, Merlin…" he grumped as he threw himself down on the bench, tossing his bag carelessly somewhere near their feet. "Why do classes have to start so early?"
Sirius closed his eyes for a moment so that he wouldn't roll them in public. He was used to getting to breakfast early so that he would have time to look back over his homework and assignments for the day, but James had held him up this morning so that they only had about twenty minutes to eat and get to the Potions classroom.
Remus peeked one brown eye over the top of his Potions textbook and said, "If you'd go to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn't have so much trouble getting up."
"Lay off, Remus," replied James cheerfully. "And let me see your Potions notes."
But Remus's dull hair was all that remained visible over the top of his book. With a scowl, James turned to Sirius.
"You don't want mine," Sirius preempted him as he chased a bit of egg around with his fork. "I'm rubbish in Potions."
Peter leaned around Sirius. "You can look at mine."
But James's chortle made the smaller boy freeze and, with a hurt look in Sirius's direction, he slumped back down and glared into his plate. Sirius guessed that Potter must not have been aware of how well Peter did in Potions. And why would he, really, given that Professor Slughorn didn't give Peter much praise at all next to Snape and Evans, and Peter himself didn't talk much about his abilities outside of his and Sirius's Dark Arts practice? If the other boy were to judge Peter's understanding in Potions based on his understanding in Charms and Defense, it wasn't a big surprise that he assumed Peter's notes weren't worth looking at.
Peter was quiet through the rest of breakfast and the walk down to the dungeons, and he ignored Sirius when the group separated so that Sirius and Peter could take their seats near the front of the classroom while Remus and James took theirs near the back.
As soon as Slughorn was distracted with his lecture, Sirius wrote Peter a note and slid it towards the center of their table.
It's his loss. I think you shouldn't offer to help him even if he wises up and asks you later.
Peter sniffed and sent Sirius a little glare, but Sirius could see how his tense body relaxed a bit and how he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"Can anyone tell me the purpose of the anti-clockwise stirs?" Slughorn was asking the class.
They were discussing the Hair-Raising Potion in class today, and although Sirius remembered the ingredients, he really had no idea about anti-clockwise stirs. Peter's hand shot up and he bounced a bit in his seat.
Slughorn's eyes swept over the room. "Ah, Miss Evans!"
Peter dropped his hand with a disappointed sigh.
Sirius felt sorry for his friend as he watched the same scene play out over and over, sometimes with Evans but other times with Snape or with any other student except Peter. He had learned from his cousins that Slughorn tended to pick his favorites and blatantly favor them even to the exclusion of others, and unfortunately for Peter he was neither the smartest student in the class nor the best connected nor the most charming.
They had Transfiguration right after Potions, and he found himself feeling particularly altruistic towards his friend, who was still moping about his earlier experiences.
"This term we will begin discussing the theory of object-to-animal transfigurations," Professor McGonagall informed them in her usual no-nonsense tone. "Can anyone tell me why object-to-animal transfigurations will be more difficult than the animal-to-object transfigurations we have studied up to this point?"
Sirius quickly scribbled on a bit of parchment and slid it towards his friend.
Bringing it to life.
Peter stared at it for a few moments before turning a confused expression in Sirius's direction. Sirius nodded and gave his friend his most encouraging look. Peter slowly raised his hand, apparently to his own confusion as much as to Professor McGonagall's.
"Mr. Pettigrew," she said, her voice colored with so much surprise that it was almost a question.
"Uh…" He looked a bit shocked that she had actually called on him. "Bringing it to life?"
His words also came out more like a question than an answer, but at McGonagall's nod he all but beamed at the stern woman in his delight at having gotten it correct.
Professor McGonagall was looking at him shrewdly now, her lips pursed together. "And, Mr. Pettigrew, can you tell me why exactly this would make it more difficult?"
Peter's eyes widened in panic. "Erm… uh… that is…"
Sirius almost sighed in exasperation that Peter couldn't suss out the complete answer on his own, but nonetheless he quickly circled a sentence in the notes he had made when preparing for class, and Peter's eyes darted over to his side of the desk.
"Because you have to create a spark of life."
The professor's eyes were narrowed on them now, but after a few moments she nodded turned back to the rest of the class.
"Yes, object-to-animal transfigurations are so difficult because one must infuse the transfigured animal with enough magic—a 'spark of life,' to use Mr. Pettigrew's terminology—in order for it to seem alive and to act like a real animal." She swept across the front of the classroom, pinning all of her students with her strictest gaze as she went. "Of course, we cannot actually create life from non-life. Can anyone explain why not?"
The lesson continued without incident, although most of the students seemed either bored or confused by the discussion of the last of the Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, which said that one could not create real life from non-life. Sirius personally found the lecture fascinating, and he was a bit disappointed that they were only going to work on transfiguring objects into proper animal forms the rest of the year. He would have to wait until third year before they began trying to animate the animals, but he already knew that he would work on it himself in his spare time.
When the students were filing out of the classroom, Professor McGonagall called him back. He and Peter shared a wide-eyed glance before the shorter boy all but ran out of the room lest he also be asked to remain. Sirius rolled his eyes heavenward at his friend's willingness to abandon him after he'd helped him.
He turned back to face her and approached the desk at the front of the rows of desks. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?"
She watched him with suspicious eyes and a hard mouth. "Why did you give Mr. Pettigrew the answer?"
"Because he didn't know it."
Sirius almost immediately regretted his snappy reply as soon as he'd said it, and the professor didn't appear too appreciative of it herself.
"Am I correct in assuming, Mr. Black," she began sternly, "that you also gave him the answer to my first question?" Sirius saw no point in denying it, so he nodded in the affirmative, after which Professor McGonagall studied him intensely for several long seconds before asking, "Why would you do such a thing?"
He debated with himself for a few moments whether he should tell her—whether she would even care or understand his reasons if he did tell her—before he decided that there was no real reason not to.
"I thought that he would feel better if he could answer a question in class," he finally explained. "This morning James laughed at him when Peter offered his Potions notes, and then Professor Slughorn never called on him, even though Peter raised his hand all the time because he really did know the answers."
McGonagall regarded him with a slightly softer expression. "That's very noble of you, Mr. Black. However, if Mr. Pettigrew is going to get attention for answering questions in my class, he will need to earn it himself in the future."
Sirius breathed out heavily through his nose. "Yes, Professor."
She was rifling through papers on her desk, and Sirius figured that he had been dismissed. He hitched his bag up further onto his shoulder and turned for the door. He was almost out of the room when she called his name. He turned back around with a sigh.
"I will have to take five points from Gryffindor for cheating."
He sighed again but nodded his acceptance.
"However," she continued with a slight smile, "I believe that I can spare five points to Gryffindor for your having known the correct answers, and I suppose you must have another five for coming to the aid of a fellow student."
It took Sirius a few seconds to react, but when he did he offered his professor a wide grin, white teeth flashing in the sunlight coming through the windows.
"Thank you, Professor," he said, affecting a duly solemn tone despite his smile, then she shooed him out of her classroom and he quickly rounded the corner into the corridor.
His friends hadn't waited for him, but he couldn't blame them too much. They had lunch now, and he certainly wouldn't have wanted to wait for any of them if it had been the other way around. He entered the Great Hall a few minutes later and immediately made his way to the seats that he and his friends favored near the center of the table, although he spared a glance for the Slytherin table. Rabastan's back was to him, as usual, and Narcissa was speaking with the girl sitting next to her and didn't notice him looking. Malfoy, however, caught his eye and gave him a slight nod.
"There you are!" cried James, and Sirius turned his attention back to his friends. "What did McGonagall want?"
Peter looked at him warily, his small eyes seeming to beg that his friend not tell the truth, which would only lead to him having to bring up what had happened earlier that morning in order to explain his actions.
Sirius shrugged. "Nothing important. She just wanted to talk about the essay I handed in before the break. Gave me five points for it, too."
Potter and Lupin seemed to take his word at face value without any questions. Sirius supposed that he had always been a rather good liar.
"Five points!" Remus exclaimed. "Could I read your essay later, to see what sort of things you said?"
But Sirius never had to answer, as James spoke over the rest of them. "I bet she's just taking an excuse to add points since the last Quidditch match was such a low-scoring one. We need to start training for our next match in March if we want any chance of winning either the Quidditch Cup or the House Cup."
As it invariably went when talk of Quidditch was involved, Sirius, James, and Peter spoke enthusiastically—James and Peter more enthusiastically than Sirius—while Remus buried his nose in a book. This was still the state of affairs as they began the walk to the Defense classroom, and for that reason none of them noticed Snape and Evans until James plowed headlong into the sallow Slytherin.
"Watch where you're going, you imbecile!" cried the smaller boy.
James flushed brilliant red in his anger. "If you hadn't been standing directly in front of the stairs—"
But Snape cut him off, declaring, "It's a good thing you're talented at Quidditch, because apparently you don't have the brains to pay attention to anything else!"
From behind his friend, Sirius snorted. "Wish you had more brawn yourself, do you? I know you tried out for the Slytherin team and didn't make it."
"Well I'm sure he had to use one of those decrepit school brooms!" James added with a peal of laughter.
Snape turned white in his fury. Sirius was still a quicker draw than Snape, but unfortunately Snape was a quicker draw than James, and James was standing between them. James yelped and leapt backwards when the hex hit him, colliding hard with Sirius as he fell. Sirius barely kept his balance and only just managed to bring his book bag up to take the impact of whatever hex Snape had sent his way. He was glad that the near-instinctive reactions Dolohov had pounded into him over the summer—sometimes literally—had apparently survived the months without a dueling lesson quite intact.
He really, truly wanted to use one of the Darkest and most painful curses he knew on Snape, but he was not yet so angry that his desires overwhelmed his good sense. He settled for merely Disarming the other boy.
No sooner had he caught the wand than someone snatched it out of his hand from behind.
"Oi!" he cried, spinning around to give the interloper a piece of his mind. It was Rabastan Lestrange. The words died on his tongue, and they succeeded at nothing more than staring at each other for several long seconds.
Then, with the menacing air that must have been inborn in him, Rabastan pocketed Snape's wand and shot the boy a look that could have frightened the Bloody Baron. "Snape, have we not had words about you harassing Black?"
He had grabbed hold of the smaller Slytherin by the back of the neck and propelled him halfway across the entrance hall before anyone else had time to react. Snape appeared to attempt to struggle against the grip, but Rabastan shook him violently, and by the time they reached the stairs that led down to the dungeons he was taking the treatment as placidly as a newborn kitten.
Evans appeared at once to be quite frightened for her friend and working herself into righteous indignation, and Sirius figured that he had better nip any ideas she had in the bud.
"There are rules in Slytherin that Snape knows better than to break, Evans," he addressed her seriously, trying to balance his voice somewhere between stern and understanding. "You'll only cause more trouble for him with his own house if you tattle on Lestrange, and anyway Rabastan won't really hurt him."
The bell signaling the end of the lunch hour had chimed by then, and students had begun to pour out of the Great Hall. They were quickly hustled along their way up the stairs by the crowd behind them, and Sirius could only hope that Evans had taken his words to heart.
And, of course, wonder whether Rabastan had only acted because Snape had been violating a direct order from the older Slytherins, or if he had done it for Sirius personally.
The thought occupied his mind all afternoon until something much more pressing distracted him. That night at dinner, the Great Hall suddenly filled with owls carrying a special edition of the Daily Prophet to all the staff and students who subscribed. MORE MAGICAL ATTACKS ON MUGGLE VILLAGES! screamed the headline, and Sirius could hear gasps and cries all around him. He unfolded his paper as quickly as he could.
There have been two more attacks today by wizards on Muggle villages. These attacks, in isolated villages in Derbyshire and Hampshire, mirror attacks that occurred in Wiltshire and Yorkshire on New Year's Day. Attackers wearing black robes and white masks dragged Muggleborn witches and wizards and their families into the streets, where they burned them alive in a cruel mockery of the witch hunts that happened hundreds of years ago. The attackers then set fire to any nearby Muggle homes and killed any people inside.
As of this afternoon, the Ministry has officially confirmed that these attacks were all carried out by Death Eaters, a group of pure-blood supremacists headed by a Dark wizard known only as Lord Voldemort. The Ministry has yet to comment on the rumors that the many werewolf attacks and the rash of disappearances over the past two years are connected to the Death Eaters.
Muggleborn witches and wizards and their families are being advised to remain extra vigilant and to report any suspicious activity immediately to the special Department of Magical Law Enforcement task force that had been set up to handle this terrorist group.
Other pages of the Prophet went on to describe the attacks and the Death Eaters in more detail, but Sirius didn't bother to read them yet. He was thinking back on hushed whispers and hastily redirected conversations. He wondered how much his family knew and how much they had been hiding from him.

Weeks passed without anything more exciting happening than Quidditch practice and his continued meetings with Janice in the library. She had apparently thoroughly enjoyed his gift—in fact, she wore her new hair combs nearly every day, and she had informed him that she was only halfway through the guidebook of possible hairstyles that had come with it—and Sirius had thoroughly enjoyed her thanks. He thought that they must both be getting better at kissing, because it became more pleasant every time they did it.
He was also quite sure that Janice had been sharing the details of their encounters with her friends, because all of them were acting even sillier around him than usual. He had been tempted, therefore, to share the details with his own friends or with the various other first-, second-, and third-year boys who had asked him how far they'd gone, but he had discovered quite by accident that leaving a shroud of mystery over it only made him all the more popular. Apparently other boys were quite happy to assume the worst—or was that the best?—if left to fill in the details for themselves.
As for Quidditch, Thomas was pressing them harder than ever in light of their earlier loss against Slytherin. Given that their next match wasn't until the second week in March, Sirius found the intense practice schedule to be a bit ridiculous. He had even implemented Muggle techniques!
"When I was home over the holidays," Thomas had informed them at their first team meeting of the term, "I talked with my brother about how practices are handled for his football team."
There had followed a long explanation of exactly what Muggle football was, but to Sirius it had sounded deadly dull—not even any flying, or balls that could kill you!—and the only thing he had really gleaned from the whole affair was that they were now expected to run about and do various Muggle exercises at the start of every practice.
He thought about quitting the team, but he figured that might be a bit suspicious to everyone. Plus Potter would probably murder him in his sleep.
At the end of February, they all trudged down to the pitch with the rest of the student body to watch the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match. The only notable exception was Remus, who had apparently taken ill again the night before. Sirius had noticed that he looked a bit peaky the day before, but he hadn't thought the other boy had needed the hospital wing. James had announced that he was carrying Lupin to the infirmary and that they didn't need anyone else to go with them, and off they had gone by themselves. It had all been suspicious, of course, but Sirius hadn't been able to quickly think of a way to follow them without being detected.
Maybe I should ask Rabastan how he's been avoiding me, he thought to himself, not a little bitterly.
Still, he found himself secretly cheering for Slytherin—secretly because his friends and fellow Gryffindors had looked absolutely horrified when he had tried to do it openly—and for Lestrange in particular. Every time the commentator announced "LESTRANGE SCORES!" he felt his heart clench a little bit and remembered that night last winter when he had overheard Rabastan and Malfoy talking about him.
Slytherin annihilated Ravenclaw three hundred and seventy to sixty, so the commentator said Lestrange's name quite a lot.
After the game, James and Thomas had gone off to sulk and plot out any conceivable way that Gryffindor might still win the Quidditch Cup given Slytherin's now enormous lead in points, and Remus still hadn't returned, so Sirius and Peter took the opportunity to sneak down to their room in the dungeons.
"My grandfather wrote to me about your father's potions books," he told his friend. "Here, listen to this: 'In my limited potions experience, the annotations seem quite spot on and the new recipes promising. Your father agrees. I will have him brew one of the more useful potions and test the results, and if all goes as planned perhaps your friend would like to discuss having a potions master look the books over.' That sounds promising. Maybe you can sell some of your father's inventions and make a few Galleons."
Peter seemed quite excited by the news from Arcturus, but he was obviously conflicted about Sirius's idea. He shook his head. "I'm not sure I want to sell them. They're all I have left of my father, you know? It would be like selling his body to be harvested for ingredients. I'll have to think about it."
Sirius didn't comprehend it at all, actually, but then again he figured that he really ought not to try to understand what it would be like to lose a parent when he still had almost his entire family, except for his paternal grandmother.
They studied in silence for a while longer, Peter doing his Astronomy homework and Sirius reading out of a new Dark Arts book he'd bought over Christmas and occasionally trying out a spell.
Then Peter broke in with, "Sirius, can I borrow your moon chart? I left mine in the dorm."
"Oh, yeah, hold on."
Since Sirius's book bag came equipped with an Undetectable Extension Charm and a Featherlight Charm, he always carried all of his books with him at all times just for convenience. He had already handed the moon chart over to Peter and settled back onto his table when the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He leapt back down from the table and was already halfway across the room before Peter could react.
"Let me see that!" He snatched the chart out of Peter's grasp without waiting for a reaction, and a few moments later he was staggering backwards as if he'd been hit in the stomach with a Bludger.
Peter grabbed onto his forearm as if he was afraid that Sirius might fall over.
"What's wrong?" he asked in alarm.
Sirius laid the chart onto the desk and pointed at two of the dates. "There was a full moon last night and on the night before my birthday!" His friend still looked alarmed and more than a little confused, and Sirius flung his hands in the air in agitation. "Lupin! He's been ill on the nights of the full moon!"
"Wha—what?" stuttered Peter, turning to consult the moon chart as if he might find that Sirius had been mistaken.
"It all makes sense…." Sirius was pacing back and forth between the desk and the door of the small room, muttering more to himself than to his friend. "Except it doesn't make sense at all!"
Certainly lycanthropy made sense of a lot of Lupin's symptoms, now that Sirius had a theory and the benefit of hindsight. He was always ill about once a month, then tired for several days, then perfectly fine for about three weeks until he suddenly became tired and quite irritable, then he had to spend another night in the hospital wing. (Only Sirius really doubted that a werewolf was actually spending time in the infirmary during full moons, which meant that the professors, or at least the school nurse, had to be in on it!)
Except Sirius had been taught his entire life that werewolves were little better than dangerous, mindless beasts even when the moon wasn't full. He remembered that his grandfather had once come home quite agitated because there had been a case about a werewolf who ate human flesh and infected others even without a full moon. But he'd been sharing a dorm with Remus for over a year and half, and the other boy had never been violent or appeared dangerous that he could remember.
It made so much sense, and yet it shouldn't make sense.
"What do we do?" Peter asked him, his eyes wide.
Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe two dates is just a coincidence? We don't remember the exact dates of the other times he was sick, so I think we should wait and see if he's sick again on the next full moon before we do anything."
However, he really didn't think that he was going to be able to act completely normal around the other boy while they waited.
That agreed, Sirius and Peter found that they were both too distracted to be productive, so they began to make their way back towards the common room. It turned out that Sirius was correct about not being able to act completely normal around Remus, but they both tried valiantly. He seemed as mild tempered as ever, and he even asked them about the Quidditch match he'd missed and asked Peter if he wanted to work on their Charms essays together.
Over the next days and weeks, Sirius convinced himself quite thoroughly that he had been wrong. There was absolutely no way a boy like Remus Lupin could be a werewolf, and he was certain that when the next full moon came he and Peter would laugh at themselves for their suspicions. Therefore, he soundly put it out of his mind as much as possible.
He found that pouring his energy into his animosity towards Snape and his anger at Rabastan worked quite well as distractions. James's hatred for Snape had apparently been firmly cemented after the incident in the entrance hall, as he was sure that the Slytherin had hit him with some sort of Dark curse and he still hated anything to do with the Dark Arts. Although his friend's attitude towards the Arts was quite troubling, Sirius was glad for his willingness to target Snape.
They had begun a quest to hex or jinx the other boy as much as possible, everything from turning his robes different colors to more serious attacks whenever they caught him alone in the corridors. Snape had given almost as good as he got, of course, and they had earned themselves a month's worth of detentions within a couple of weeks, but Sirius thought it was a small price to pay.
Not to mention that it actually seem to raise their social status among the younger students, who apparently saw them as some sort of fearless heroes for getting so many detentions.
Rabastan was another kind of problem entirely, one that Sirius found that he couldn't ask for any help with. Certainly his Gryffindor friends were not going to help, and none of the Slytherins were in a position to offer aid either. After mulling it over and getting increasingly angry and frustrated the longer he went, Sirius came to a decision and made his way to the Slytherin common room. He didn't know the password, but it was nothing to strong arm a passing first year into giving it to him.
Everyone did a double take when he stomped purposefully across the dimly lit dungeon and straight towards his intended target. Rabastan was sitting at a table with Malfoy and a few older boys Sirius didn't know, and he looked horrified at the Gryffindor's approach.
"You!" Sirius declared, leaving no room for questions. Where he had only pointed in Rodolphus's direction over Christmas, he actually poked Rabastan hard in the chest.
Lestrange spluttered. "You—you poked me!"
Sirius ignored his indignation. "You will come with me right this instant or we will do this right here in front of everybody!"
Rabastan looked vaguely ill, but nonetheless he hauled himself up from his seat and, with the air of someone in a much more dignified position than he currently was, started off towards the stairs. Sirius allowed his icy glare to sweep across the room, particularly focusing on Lucilla Lestrange and Narcissa. Lucius's eyes gave away that he was impressed and a bit amused by the whole affair, but he only smiled blandly when Sirius looked in his direction. Then he spun on his heel and followed his target down to the sixth-year boys' dormitory.
Rabastan turned on him as soon as the heavy ebony door slammed shut behind them. "How dare you speak to me that way in front of the entire house!"
"How dare I?" cried Sirius, running a frustrated hand through his long hair. "You're lucky I decided to talk to you at all, but maybe I'll changed my mind if you're going to act like this!"
"You undermined my authority in front of everyone!"
Sirius had taken a step forward and shoved the larger boy as hard as he could before he'd even realized he'd done it. "You should have thought about that before you IGNORED ME LIKE AN ENORMOUS GIT!"
Taken by complete surprise, Rabastan stumbled backwards over a trunk and tumbled to the floor. Sirius panted from anger and exertion, and Rabastan stared up at him in shock and not a little anger. Sirius expected him to get back up and shove him back or hit him or at least pull his wand and hex him on the spot. But as the seconds ticked by, the anger drained from Rabastan's sapphire blue eyes until he was looking at Sirius with affection and contrition.
"I'm sorry for ignoring you."
Sirius was surprised enough at that response that it took him a few moments to respond.
"You had better be." He sniffed in disdain, then allowed a smile to crack his face. "I'm sorry I pushed you."
Rabastan held out his hand, and Sirius reached out to help him up only to find himself unceremoniously dragged down with him. "Oi!" he cried in protest, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been, given that he landed directly on top of his friend instead of on the stone. If Rabastan hadn't hastily shoved him off onto the floor, the situation probably would have been quite comfortable.
Lestrange looked embarrassed and uncomfortable, and Sirius figured that they needed to completely clear the air.
He reached out to poke the older boy in the ribs. "I don't care what your sister or my cousin said; if you ever act like such a Hufflepuff again, I'll turn you into a Puffskein and keep you as a pet—No! I'll give you to Bellatrix as a pet!"
"Merlin forbid!" Rabastan laughed. "You might as well just cast the Killing Curse on me if you're going to sentence me to a horrific death like that."
Sirius shrugged, and their shoulders rubbed together. "Then you wouldn't have time to accept your completely justified fate as a helpless Puffskein."
Rabastan laughed again. "All right, all right! You've made your point. I'm sorry I was such a coward about it, I really am…. It wasn't so much what they said as the idea that you might reject me, but I should have known you're too loyal to do that."
Sirius couldn't imagine any world in which he'd reject the friendship of someone like Rabastan. But, funnily enough given what he'd just yelled at his friend, he found that he was too cowardly to ask… or to ask about what he'd overheard in the changing rooms last November.
He figured that there was nothing else to say on the subject, so in a bid to say something—anything—he blurted out, "Nice game against Ravenclaw, by the way."
"Thanks," replied Rabastan. As he propped himself up onto his elbows, his shirtsleeves, which had already been rolled up out of the way of his hands, rode even further up his arms.
"You'll have to teach me that maneuver you pulled against Quirk," Sirius told him, rising up to mirror the other boy's position.
Rabastan snorted. "Not on your life, turn cloak."
Sirius barked out a single laugh and leaned over to nudge the Slytherin's shoulder with his own. Then he noticed the black ink peeking out from the edge of his friend's sleeve.
"When did you get a tattoo, Rab?"
He shot up away from Sirius suddenly, tugging down his sleeve as he went. "'Rab' now, is it?"
But Sirius didn't get to call him out on the weak attempt at changing the subject, because Malfoy shoved the door open and stopped short in the doorway, raising a pale eyebrow at their position sprawled across the floor. "There's an owl trying to get in for Black. Do bring him upstairs before it kills itself against the windows."
After that there was very little choice except to leave the Slytherin dungeons for the nearest window so that the owl could deliver its letter. He was annoyed to find that it was only a letter from his parents expressing their disappointment about his most recent detentions. He was doubly annoyed that his conversation with Rabastan had been interrupted just for that.
He was still scowling when he found his friends lounging in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Peter and Remus had moved together two of the armchairs and were playing on a chessboard they had levitated between themselves. James was sprawled on his back across the sofa, one of his legs propped up on the back and the other hanging over the side. Sirius shoved his legs out of the way and sat on the sofa.
"Oi!" James protested, dropping the book he'd been reading and giving Sirius a kick.
Sirius shoved him in return. After several seconds of struggling they ended up more or less comfortably sharing the narrow space, James's legs both thrown over the back of the couch and Sirius sprawled across the rest of it.
"Where've you been?" asked James.
Sirius shrugged and extended his wand to magically stoke the fire. "With Janice. What're you reading?"
James mirrored his shrug. "Strategies for the Successful Chaser by Joscelind Wadcock. I'm going to draw up some new plays to show Thomas. Hopefully we can start practicing them tomorrow."
"Well, Hufflepuff aren't very good, are they?" Sirius asked. He pushed James's leg further up the back of the couch and away from himself. "If you add even more to Thomas's already insane practice schedule, I swear I'll quit."
"It doesn't matter how good they are! If we underestimate our opponents—if we become complacent—that's when we'll lose!"
Sirius groaned and let his head fall back against the arm of the couch. "James, mate, we already practice more than enough. The only way we could possibly be more prepared is if we got our hands on Hufflepuff's playbook."
The other boy shot up from his relaxed position. Sirius gave a shout when his friend's legs connected with his head, but James was already speaking. "Hufflepuff are practicing right now!" He sprung up from the sofa and stood over it looking down at Sirius. "Well, come on then!"
Sirius squinted up at him through the lamplight. "Come on what?"
But James grabbed his arm and hauled him up from the couch without answering. Sirius had half a mind to resist, but he was honestly curious what Potter was up to. He found himself dragged up the stairs and to their dormitory, where James, after looking around to make sure no one was in the vicinity, stepped inside and shut the door firmly behind them.
He moved to his trunk and started rifling through it, but soon enough he stopped and looked over his shoulder at Sirius. "You can't tell anyone else about this."
"All right," replied Sirius. What else could he say?
James stood, and with him came a mass of shimmering silver fabric. As Sirius looked on, he shook it out to reveal that it was a cloak.
"An Invisibility Cloak!" Sirius recognized it immediately. A few seconds later he cottoned on to James's plan. "You want to spy on the Hufflepuffs."
"Yes."
"It'd be cheating."
"Nah, bewitching the balls would be cheating. Spying is a time-honored tradition."
"Good point."
James grinned at him. "Agreed, Black?"
Sirius smirked back. "Agreed, Potter."
They realized as they were heading down the narrow tower stairs that perhaps they should have practiced. Sirius was tall for his age and James was an average almost-thirteen-year-old boy, and they didn't fit particularly well under the cloak together. There was plenty of room if they worked together, but one wrong move from one of them could have the other's feet showing.
By the time they'd reached the common room they had a system worked out reasonably well. At least Remus and Peter, who were still playing chess in the common room, didn't notice when James and Sirius passed by a few feet away from them on their way to the portrait hole. Neither did anyone else as they took the most direct route from the tower out to the pitch and climbed up into the stands.
"This is fantastic," Sirius told James. He fingered the silky fabric of the cloak as they watched the Hufflepuffs run through plays. "My grandfather told me that he once saved up his allowance for months to buy an Invisibility Cloak, but his grandfather confiscated it before he could get it to Hogwarts."
James laughed. "You Blacks are such sticklers for the rules. My mum would go bonkers if she knew Dad had let me bring this to school, so he told me that if she finds then out I'm on my own and better not rat him out if I know what's good for me."
Sirius doubted that James would have the same opinion if he knew how many laws his family members broke on a daily basis, even his Grandfather Arcturus from his position on the Wizengamot, but he was so pleased that James had acknowledged his mother as a Black that he wouldn't have dared say anything to ruin it.
He wondered suddenly if James would be friends with a werewolf, given his intense hatred for anything to do with the Dark Arts. Werewolves were Dark creatures, after all. The thought distracted him sufficiently to make him miss whatever play the Hufflepuffs had just run through, so he was at a loss when James exclaimed, "Did you see that? It's a good thing we're here to see it so we can prepare!"
"Potter… James…" he said, though he was still warring with himself over whether he should ask.
James shifted under the cloak to face him, not that there was enough room for much of that. "What is it?"
Sirius found himself blurting out, "Is Remus a werewolf?"
He could feel Potter go stiff next to him. Then, after several tense seconds, he asked, "When did you figure it out?"
Sirius almost fell off the bench.
It isn't that he hadn't expected it; he might have halfway convinced himself that he had to be wrong, but honestly he'd known in the back of his mind that there wasn't any better explanation. But he was still shocked. He couldn't reconcile the nice boy he'd lived with for nearly two years with all he'd ever heard about werewolves.
"I hadn't, for sure," he managed to say, though his voice cracked. "Until just now."
"I've known since the first term we were here. I suspect you would have as well, if you'd have spent time with him."
"And you don't have a—a problem with it?"
James sighed. "Maybe I did at first, but I mean… it's Remus. He'd never hurt anybody if he could help it, and he can't help it that once a month he has a—a furry little problem."
Against all odds, Sirius laughed. "A 'furry little problem'?"
"Well I've got to call it something nonthreatening!" Potter defended. "Look, you aren't going to kick up a fuss, are you? He isn't dangerous or anything; on the full moons Madam Pomfrey takes him to an old house in Hogsmeade that Dumbledore himself prepared."
So the professors were in on it! Of course, now that it was confirmed that he was a werewolf, Sirius knew that the professorshad to be in on it. Lupin couldn't possibly manage otherwise.
They watched the Hufflepuffs in silence for a few minutes longer while Sirius thought about everything he had learned, and the past two years sharing a dorm with Remus Lupin. Finally, he came to a conclusion.
"I won't kick up a fuss."
James bumped their shoulders together. "You're all right, Black."
The Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match was the second week in March. By then the Gryffindor team was as prepared as they could be. Thomas never asked where James and Sirius's information came from, but he certainly took advantage of several of their spying sessions under the Invisibility Cloak.
The game was in full swing when Sirius recognized the formation he'd been watching the Hufflepuff Chasers practice. They flew together towards the Gryffindor goal posts, and under normal circumstances the Gryffindor Chasers would have attacked from either side to try to steal back the Quaffle. However, James and Sirius had found out that the Hufflepuffs were waiting for just such a maneuver so that their Seeker could fly into the path of one of the Gryffindors and their Beaters could gang up on a second.
Elizabeth Frobisher, the sixth-year Chaser, played bait for the Hufflepuff Seeker. When the boy flew into her path, instead of swerving to try to avoid him, as expected, she put her head down and flew directly into him. The Hufflepuffs in the stands immediately began screaming for a foul, but as the Seeker had intentionally flown into the path of the oncoming Catcher, Frobisher was not at fault.
Instead of doing what was expected and attacking from the side, James dive bombed right into the middle of the Hufflepuff's formation from above. In the ensuing chaos, he came away with the Quaffle, which he directly passed to Sirius.
Sirius took off at an alarming pace, streaking across the pitch with a full measure of speed from his Nimbus 1001.
Unfortunately the Hufflepuff Beaters hadn't been as slow on the uptake as they'd hoped. Sirius saw the first Bludger coming out of the corner of his eye and dove just in time for it to whiz by over his head. By the time he saw the second, he had no time to do anything except flip over upside down on his broomstick. He avoided the Bludger, but by the time he was right side up he'd lost a lot of speed.
He didn't look behind to see how close the other players had gotten by now. Instead he pressed himself flat to the handle of the broomstick and coaxed every bit of speed he could out of it.
The Gryffindors all roared when he passed the Quaffle through the center ring, barely out of reach of the Keeper's outstretched fingertips.
But it was the cheers from the Slytherin stands that made Sirius feel like soaring. There were only two, and Sirius supposed that his own cousin really didn't count, but Rabastan was waving a small Gryffindor flag and cheering along with her, and that made Sirius grin. Malfoy was standing stiffly between them, looking dour.
A few days after the match, which Gryffindor won two hundred and forty to eighty, Rabastan was sure to inform him that he'd only been cheering because he knew that there was no chance of Gryffindor catching Slytherin in points.
"Not that this excuses it," drawled Malfoy as he straightened his green and gold scarf. "A Lestrange cheering for Gryffindor, imagine. It's a disgrace."
Rabastan laughed and slung an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "About as disgraceful as a Black sorted into Gryffindor, I reckon. Cissy, can't you do anything with him?"
Lucius turned to look down at his girlfriend with a raised brow, as if daring her to say that she could control him.
She giggled and playfully pecked a kiss on his arm, then rested her cheek against his bicep as she looked up at him. "I might be able to persuade him to be nice."
Lucius looked a bit pink around the edges, but his expression was as stony as ever. Except his eyes, which were glittering.
"Come, Narcissa," he said coolly. She laughed again and allowed him to lead her off, giving a little wave over her shoulder as she went.
Rabastan winked at Sirius and released him, then sauntered off towards Hogsmeade after his friends.
It was getting more difficult to explain his friendship with the Slytherins to James. He understood that Sirius didn't want to abandon his cousin, Slytherin or not, but he absolutely could not fathom why Sirius would willingly want a relationship with Rabastan or Lucius, or with Avery and Mulciber.
"They're not right, mate," he'd warned Sirius. "Dad says that their fathers are undoubtedly Death Eaters, and Abraxas Malfoy is so far up the Ministry's ass that the Minister sneezes when he does."
So Sirius had to resort to sneaking off to see them whenever he could, such as sneaking out of his bed early on a Saturday to speak to them before their trip down to the village. He wasn't sure which he preferred: the simple life he'd had when no one had wanted anything to do with him, or the double life he was leading now between his Gryffindor and Slytherin friends.

The next full moon was on March nineteenth, and Sirius marked its coming with a heavy heart. He'd known it was true, but it hadn't quite been real to him until he'd watched Remus fake an illness and make his way to the hospital wing.
They hadn't mentioned to Lupin that he and Peter knew. Potter had thought it would be best to give it a few full moons and then drop it into casual conversation that they'd known all along, as if it weren't a big deal at all, so Remus wouldn't be afraid that they would change their minds suddenly about being all right with it. He had apparently been an absolute ball of anxiety for the first few months after he'd found out that James knew his secret.
That night Sirius borrowed James's Invisibility Cloak, although James had been quite reluctant to allow him to have it just so he could reveal its existence to his girlfriend and snog her afterhours in private. He met her at their usual time, an hour before curfew on Mondays, except he met her outside the library doors instead of at their table in the Muggle Studies section.
"Will you come somewhere else with me tonight?"
Janice looked surprised. "You mean stay out after curfew?"
"If you want to," he replied and took her hand. "We won't get caught, I promise. Do you trust me?"
She didn't answer verbally, but she wrapped her fingers around his. They set off together down the corridor at a leisurely pace, stopping every once in a while to kiss in the occasional alcove, until he'd led her up the steps of the clock tower. There they settled underneath the clock mechanism, where they could look out over the front of the castle and the Great Lake.
Sirius sat with his back against the cold stones and his arm around Janice, who was resting against his side. He tilted his head down to kiss her, but after a minute or two she pulled back.
"What's wrong, Sirius?"
There was no use denying it, so he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "Have you ever found out that something you've been taught all your life is wrong?"
Janice wrapped her arm around his middle. "No, I haven't…. I'm sorry."
He knew that he couldn't explain to her about Lupin, but he was happy just to be held.

Sirius was in Charms several weeks later when Lucius all but burst through the door. It would have been surprising under any circumstances, but it was even more shocking coming from Malfoy.
"Professor Slughorn sent me to fetch Black," he told Flitwick a bit breathlessly. "Urgent business."
Everyone was silent for several seconds, until Flitwick squeaked, "Well, then Mr. Black had better go."
Sirius could feel the eyes of his classmates on him as he gathered his things and followed Lucius out into the corridor. When they were alone, he grabbed the older boy's arm to halt his rapid steps. "What is it, Malfoy?"
Lucius yanked his arm away. "It's Narcissa. She's asking for you."
Sirius could only stare after him as he set off down the corridor again at a blistering pace. Malfoy had already reached the staircases by the time Sirius caught up with him.
"But why is she asking for me?"
He didn't answer, and Sirius figured that there wasn't any point in wasting his breath after that. They hurried down the stairs—fortunately none of them decided to move—and into the dungeons without speaking further. Professor Slughorn was waiting for them outside his office, but he only offered a brief "Terrible business; terrible business, indeed." as he opened the door and gestured for them to enter.
Narcissa was curled up on the sofa with her legs up and her face buried in her knees. When Sirius approached, she looked up to reveal red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. There was really no thinking involved; Sirius knelt on the floor next to the sofa and took her hand in both of his. She squeezed his fingers with hers, but she was looking over his head at Malfoy, who was hovering just inside the doorway.
"Dear Merlin, Cissy! What's wrong?" cried Sirius, with barely any thought to sensitivity.
She sniffed in quite an unladylike manner. "It's An—Andy…. She's run away with a—Oh, Sirius!—with a Mudblood!"
Sirius reared back in shock. "She what?"
"Oh, Sirius!" Narcissa repeated, as if saying his name was somehow comforting to her. "She wrote Mother and Father a letter saying that she was on her way to el—elope with a boy named Tonks."
"He was a Hufflepuff in her year," explained Malfoy rather abruptly. Both of the Blacks looked at him then, but he looked down at the floor before either of them could meet his eyes. "I—I'll just leave you alone," he said quietly. "I ought not intrude on such a private family matter."
As soon as he had closed the door behind him, Narcissa collapsed into Sirius's arms. She didn't seem to notice at all when he overbalanced and they fell backwards into a heap on the floor.
"Please, Cissy…" But Sirius really had no idea what to say to her.
She sobbed into his shirt. "He'll never marry me now! How could he ever want to?"
Sirius was shocked at this turn, as he had thought her tears were solely for her lost sister, but he rubbed her back as consolingly as he knew how. "He would be a fool if he lets Andromeda's actions keep him away from you, Cissy. Every family has bad eggs every once in a while, even the Malfoys…. And I've seen the way he looks at you."
"No, you don't understand," she sobbed. "I haven't told him—I couldn't bring myself to say it!—but when he finds out he won't have a choice. His father would never let him…."
"Haven't told him what?" he asked. By now he was more than just a bit uncomfortable with his role as her confidante.
"Oh…! She's p—pregnant!"
Sirius blinked several times before he found his voice. "What?"
"Pregnant!" wailed Narcissa. "At least five months along! Out of wedlock! With a Mudblood's baby!"
It suddenly made much more sense to him. "She left now because she couldn't hide it for much longer…." he mused aloud. His cousin's tears had soaked through his shirt by now. "Cissy, Malfoy loves you, I'm sure of it. Surely he won't think you're, you know, that way, just because you have a stupid sister."
She shook her head against his shoulder. "I am that way! I let him—let him…"
"Oh," was all he could say for several long heartbeats. Then, "Narcissa, please listen to me. This is nineteen seventy-three, noteighteen seventy-three! Malfoy can't be that old-fashioned if he even asked a nice pure-blood girl like you to… you know… in the first place. I know he won't think poorly of you for doing it with him."
Narcissa sniffed again. "Do—do you really think so?"
"Yes!" he declared emphatically, and he thought privately to himself that Malfoy had better not prove him wrong or he'd kill the older boy. "I'm sure he just feels uncomfortable intruding, like he said. And you did ask for me, so he probably thought you wanted to be alone with me. Trust me, he's really worried about you."
She managed to stop crying at some point after that, although Sirius was too afraid to try to move them off the floor lest any slight jostling set her off again.
Finally, he ventured, "Have they burnt her off the tapestry then?"
Narcissa pulled back from him. Though her face was still red and puffy, her expression was quite fierce. "Yes, and good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. How dare she! She didn't think about any of the rest of us at all, not about how she might drag her sisters down along with her, nor how it would injure the family name, nor how devastated Mother would be."
That, Sirius thought, summed up the weight of expectation quite thoroughly. He remembered how his thoughts upon being sorted into Gryffindor had been about what his family would think and how it would disappoint them, and he wondered how Andromeda had forgotten the importance of not only the members of her family but also of their name itself, their heritage and reputation. It was the ultimate betrayal, and he knew that it was his duty now to cut her out of his heart like Narcissa had done, for the sake of their family.

Author's Notes: I had the article call Voldemort by his name instead of "You-Know-Who" or similar because this is just the beginning of his reign of terror. His reign of terror only started in the early 70s, and I figure he needed a bit of time after that to earn such a reputation that everybody was afraid to even speak his name.
Narcissa's worries about being ruined on account of her sister's actions are more than a bit eighteen seventy-threeish. However, I view the ultra pure-blood society—those supremacists families who are "truly pure"—as 1) so concerned with blood traitors and keeping the blood pure that it would really harm a family to have a member do what Andy did, and 2) so isolated from reality that traditions and stigmas would be important to them longer than to most of society (especially since wizards in general are so long-lived). And anyway in the 70s it was still a pretty huge stigma to have a baby out of wedlock, even above and beyond the fact that she'd become a blood traitor. I also think that Narcissa loves Andromeda, but it's just that she loves Lucius more and is in love with him, and therefore he would have been her first thought.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Other Side: Thick and Thin (Book 1)