Okay, here goes! First of all, all the characters that I will use have been created by JK Rowling and she gets all the credit for that. Please bear with me as this is my first story. Click here to give me feedback on my story. Okay then.
What this story is: This story is about Sirius Black as a teenager, living in 12 Grimmauld Place. I deeply apologize if this has been done, but I did a search and didn't find anything. I'll try to post the first chapter tomorrow!
Last edited by witchsmart; January 21st, 2007 at 2:12 am.
Wow, I got it out early!
The Hogwarts Express pulled slowly into Platform 9 ¾. Stream poured out of it, making the
descending witches and wizards cough and wipe their eyes. They were all returning from another
hard year at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, and were looking forward to a relaxing
vacation at home. That is, except for one boy.
His long, dark hair hung down over his face, as he gloomily got off the train. Of all of the hundreds
of students there, he was probably the least happy to be back from school.
“Cheer up mate! It’s only two months!”
Another boy, this one much more cheerful, descended onto the dusty platform, lugging a huge
suitcase behind him. He was a handsome boy, with hazel eyes, a thin face, and very untidy hair.
He was followed by two more boys, each with a large suitcase of their own.
“Don’t worry about it Padfoot. You’ll still have our letters to look forward to!”
This comment came from one of the last two boys. He was tall, slim, and very pale. Following him
was a small, mousy-haired boy who was having some difficulty with his luggage.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Said the pale boy, reaching down and dragging the small boy’s
suitcase onto the platform. The boy mumbled a small thanks.
“Geez Wormtail, how pathetic are you? You can’t even handle your own suitcase.” Said the
cheerful boy with the untidy hair.
“It’s not my fault!” protested Wormtail. “My mum always keeps packing extra stuff into it! It makes
it so heavy!”
“You mean your mum still packs your clothes? You really are something Wormtail, you know that?”
“Enough fighting, we just got here.” Interjected the pale boy.
“Fair enough Moony. So Padfoot, looking forward to a relaxing stay at home with your loving
“Shut up Prongs. You know I hate the holidays.” Grumbled Padfoot. And this was true, he hated
holidays more than anything else in the world, because it meant that he had to go home.
“Oh Padfoot, don’t let that old hag get to you! Speak of the devil, I think I see your mum. Well,
good luck mate!”
“Don’t worry,” said Moony reassuringly. “We’ll send you lots of letters.”
The three boys departed and left the depressed youth to walk over to one of the few people that
he hated most in the world.
“Sirius! Finally you disgrace of a son! You know how I hate lingering with these half-breeds and
This order issued from the unpleasant mouth of a women who some would be considered to be the devil herself. She had long black hair that hung around her sharp, pointed face. Her dark, piecing black eyes flickered impatiently as she beckoned him to follow her. Reluctantly, Sirius followed his
mother to the one place that he hated more than anywhere else in the world.
His home, Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
Last edited by witchsmart; February 26th, 2007 at 1:20 am.
The small square in front of several decaying houses was deserted, expect for a single, stray black cat that was wandering around, hoping to find some discarded bits of food for its meager supper. Suddenly it sprang up with a hiss and sprinted away as two figures abruptly appeared in the middle of the square, as if they had simply stepped out of the air.
“Come on, hurry up!” snapped Sirius’ mother, walking briskly towards the tall, dirty house between houses Number 11 and 13. Sirius sourly followed his mother up to the front steps of Number 12, Grimmauld, his home.
“Filthy muggles, I can’t think with that confounded contraption of theirs blasting out that rubbish and disturbing the entire neighborhood!”
What she was actually referring to was some quiet jazz that was coming from a radio inside Number 11. Sirius actually enjoyed listening to muggle music, but he would never dare to say that to his mother. She would hex him and lock him in his room for a week before he could say, “Oops.”
Wrenching open the front door, Mrs. Black made her way through the main hall, almost bumping into the house-elf who had suddenly appeared at the door.
Cursing loudly, Mrs. Black roughly kicked aside the elf, who merely sprang back up again and followed his mistress as she continued to storm through the house. It was an old house-elf, with only a few gray hairs poking up out of his wrinkled scalp. What hair he didn’t have on his head, he made up for with the bunches of gray hairs that sprouted out of his huge, batlike ears. Kreacher, for that was his name, wore no clothes, for a house-elf who is given clothes is considered to be a freed elf, and therefore unfit for work. So instead of clothes, Kreacher wore a filthy loincloth that was draped around his withered body. As he following his mistress upstairs to her room, he constantly muttered to himself, although his words were perfectly audible to Sirius, who was still standing in the main hall.
“Kreacher is so glad that his Mistress has returned. But oh, Mistress has brought back the young Master. Oh how Kreacher hates him, disgracing the noble name of Black. Oh poor Kreacher’s Mistress, she loathes him so. Hanging about with half-breeds and mudbloods at that disgraceful school. Oh, how he shames her so. My poor, poor Mistress . . .”
But these words meant nothing to Sirius. He had heard them all before, from Kreacher, from his mother, and from his father. Still in a state of depression, Sirius dragged his suitcase up the stairs, past the heads of old house-elves that were mounted on the walls, and into his own room.
It was a plain room, with no decorative wallpaper, no paintings or posters on the walls. Just fading, brown wallpaper that was beginning to peel off. Sirius threw his suitcase onto his bed, which groaned loudly as the springs bent and stretched.
How he hated it there. It wasn’t his home, it was a prison. Hogwarts was his home, with all of his friends. They were his real family, not those selfish, big-headed idiots that a cruel twist in fate had delivered him to. Here he could do nothing, there was no one he could talk to, the only living creatures in 12 Grimmauld Place were his parents, Kreacher, and his stupid little brother, Regulus. But of course, Regulus was the perfect son. Sirius’ parents loved Regulus much more than him, they always had. Regulus Black, was clever, wonderful, and had a perfect sense of who he was. At least, that’s how they saw him. Sirius saw his younger sibling as an annoying, kiss-up, who would do anything to please his mother. And Sirius was nothing more than a disgrace of a son who didn't know his place.
Walking over to the small, grimy window set into one of the walls, Sirius stared out of it, gazing at the large, luminescent moon. It was almost full, how Sirius wished that he could be with his friends. Then they could all go out for a midnight run together, like they did on every full moon at Hogwarts.
But there was some joy in his otherwise depressing life at home. As Sirius gazed out of the window, he could see a faint shadow against the moon. A lone owl was making its way to the Black family household, and it had a letter for him.
I'll try to get the next chapter in soon!
Last edited by witchsmart; January 24th, 2007 at 2:44 am.
After quietly shutting and magically locking his bedroom door, Sirius opened the window and awaited the arrival of the owl. It would probably be from James, he always sent the first letter, along with some sweets that his mother had made. James’ parents had always been very welcoming; Sirius had seen them occasionally at the train station when they were picking up their son. Oh how many times he had wished that they would adopt him and take him away from this horrible place!
Sirius’ thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the owl, a light brown barn owl, which landed on the windowsill and stuck out its leg. Attached to it was a tiny, scrolled up piece of parchment and a small box of his favorite chocolates. Sirius had to smile; Mrs. Potter always knew just what he needed.
Opening the letter, Sirius saw three words scribbled on it:
Get your mirror.
Smiling more broadly now, Sirius crumpled up the piece of parchment, shooed the owl off his windowsill, and gripped both sides of his old mattress. Lifting it up, Sirius could see an assortment of letters, which were all from his friends, lying there piled up on top of each other. This was why he always made sure to magically lock his door when he left his bedroom, he didn’t want Kreacher or his mother to see the letters from his friends, as they strongly disapproved of his hanging out with, “the lesser wizards”.
Amidst all of the mail, there sat a small, square mirror. It had been a birthday present from James, and they always used them whenever they were separate from each other, whether during the summer or in detention. It was actually a two-way mirror, and by speaking James’ name clearly into it, Sirius could actually talk with his best friend, as he was doing so now.
There was a brief silence, and then the dusty surface of the mirror began to swirl and Sirius’ own reflection changed to that of James’. James’ face smiled and said, “Finally. So how’s it going over there Padfoot?”
“Well so far so good.” Answered Sirius grimly, “Mum’s gone off with Kreacher somewhere, and I haven’t seen dad or Regulus yet. Tell your mum I said thanks for the chocolates by the way Prongs.”
“Sure. Ah yes, little Regie. Well don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll be sent off to a ‘more quality school’ soon.”
Sirius laughed bitterly. His mother had point blank refused to send her favorite son to a “mixed” school like Hogwarts. She wanted to send him to a better school, one with only the highest quality students and professors, which were purebloods of course.
“Well until then I can only—’’
Sirius stopped suddenly. He had heard footsteps on the stairs.
“I’ve got to go Prongs, I hear someone coming.”
“All right then, but come back soon, it’s dreadfully boring here without you.”
“Definitely. Goodbye, James Potter.”
Sirius watched the surface of the mirror swirl and fade back to reflect his own face. Then he stuffed it under his mattress and waited.
Seconds later there was a loud banging on the door and he heard Regulus’ muffled voice coming from the hallway.
“Oy! Sirius! Get downstairs, it’s dinnertime! And mum and dad want to talk to you afterwards.”
Wondering just what his parents wanted to talk about with him, Sirius groaned and walked downstairs for dinner.
Dinner in 12 Grimmauld Place was silent as usual. The only noise to be heard was the clinking of knives and forks against the china plates, and the sound of Kreacher’s feet scuffing across the cold, stone floor as he waited upon them. Sirius hated eating with the family for two reasons. One, whenever he reached over the table for a second helping, he would feel the uncomfortable stare of his mother’s piercing eyes on him, so he would then sit back in his seat. His mother disproved of eating too much, and considered eating anything more than the bare minimum was to be a pig, like a muggle at Thanksgiving. So whenever Sirius became hungry, he would sneak downstairs after dinner and quietly grab some food before his mother or Kreacher came around the corner.
The second reason for his dislike towards these evenings was when Kreacher gave him a toothy grin as he served his food. It always gave Sirius the chilling feeling that the house-elf had poisoned his food, and that he would drop dead as soon as he ate it.
The entire meal passed in this manner, and when he was finally finished, Sirius quickly gave his plate to Kreacher, who looked at him with loathing, and walked down the hall to the drawing room. It was where he always endured the long lectures from his parents. These were usually about how he “didn’t appreciate his noble heritage”, and how he should “act like the pure-blood that he was”. Or mostly, “Why can’t you be more like your perfect, wonderful, sensible brother? Why can’t you be more like Regulus?”
But he didn’t want to be like Regulus. He didn’t want to be obsessed with pure-bloods, or half-breeds, or any of that. He didn’t want to go to some snobby school where you had to be just like every other stuck-up person who thought that they were better than anyone else. But most of all, Sirius did not want to live here any longer. He waited anxiously for the day when he became of age, so that he could finally escape from this prison.
By this time, Sirius had reached the drawing room. It had a long, high ceiling with olive-green walls which were covered in various tapestries, some displaying the crests of many pureblooded families. A vast carpet lay on the stone floor, and on the other side of the room was a window with moss-green curtains. On the other wall there stood various glass-fronted cabinets on either side of a stone mantelpiece. Inside them stood the relics and collections of past Blacks, including a selection of daggers, a coiled snakeskin, and various other likewise objects.
The main display of the room hung on the far wall, covering a good two-thirds of it. It was an enormous tapestry, and on it, embroidered with golden thread, was the Black family tree. At the top in large words, the tapestry read:
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
On it was the entire history of the Blacks, dating as far back as the Middle Ages. They were all there, from his great-great grandfather, Phineas Nigellus, whose portrait hung in one of the upstairs rooms, to his father, Orion Black. Here and there on the tapestry were burn marks, where his mother had blasted off the names of people who were (in Sirius’ opinion), halfway decent, “removing them from the family”.
There was Isla Black, who had married a muggle, and Marius, who was a squib. If you weren’t perfect in every single which way, then you weren’t considered to be a Black. You were raised as a pure-blood, you married a pure-blood, had pure-blood children, and died as a pure-blood. Sirius hated this more than anything else about his family. Their obsession of pure-bloods was pointless, irrational, and just plain stupid. Sirius had never been able to see any difference between a pure-blood and a half-breed. It just didn’t make sense to him.
The sound of footsteps in the hall brought Sirius back to reality. He turned around as his parents entered, shut the door behind them, and began what he would come to remember as one of the worst moments of his life.
Thank you to http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/blackfamilytree.html for the Black family tree!
It was his father who spoke first.
“You’re probably wondering why your mother and I wanted to speak to you, Sirius.” He said.
Of course Sirius had wondered, but he said nothing.
“We both felt that it was time to start discussing your future son. So--”
At this point Sirius’ mother sharply cut her husband off.
“Get to the point Orion!”
“I was just about to. You see Sirius, being a Black doesn’t just mean that you’re a pure-blood, it means that you may have other, duties to serve that non-pure-bloods don’t. One of these duties, is the responsibility to, take a further step in life, sooner than most other teenagers your age.”
Sirius had no idea what his father was talking about, but he didn’t like the sound of it all the same.
“Enough Orion, I’ll tell him.” Snapped his mother. She fixed her cold, icy glare upon him, which sent shivers down his spine.
“You are going to be married.”
There was a long pause. Sirius just stared, incomprehensively at his mother. It was as though the words that she had just uttered were battering against his brain, trying to enter. They must have found a weak point or something because then their meaning hit him, hard.
“M-married?” was all that he was able to stammer. When the words entered his brain, they must have sabotaged the rest of his nervous system, because he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.
“Of course, we will have to wait until you become of age. Then you will be married and will start a new life, and I hope that you will not disgrace the noble name of Black in the process.”
This new attack of words entered Sirius’ brain with less resistance, and he was able to say, “To whom?”
The reply took a while to process.
When looking back on that moment, Sirius often thought that that had been the last straw. The point when he cracked. At other times, he thought that it was what happened a few minutes later. Whatever the case, it was at that moment when he brain finally got sorted out, and he said angrily:
“Harriet Blorsin? But she’s a total idiot! The Giant Squid has more brain cells than her!”
The Blorsins had been friends of the Blacks for years, and whenever they got together, Sirius had been forced to endure their daughter, Harriet, who was so stupid that he was surprised that she wasn't a squib. His outburst had probably been the last straw for his mother too. Her eyes narrowed, and she ground her teeth as she responded:
“I don’t care if she’s dumber than a flobberworm! She comes from a good, pure-blood family, and you are going to marry her!”
“NO! You can’t force me to marry someone, especially not now! I’m not even out of school yet! I don’t want to marry her, and I WON’T marry her. You can’t make me! I hate it here! I hate you! AND I HATE BEING A BLACK!”
Sirius would always regret those words for the rest of his life. But they were true, and they had been said. And there was no taking them back.
At this point, Sirius’ mother was so angry, that her face resembled that of a Hungarian Horntail. She was livid, and Sirius knew that he was in huge trouble.
Before he knew what was happening, his mother had her wand out, and had shouted, “CRUCIO!”
Sirius fell to the ground in excruciating pain. It was so unbearable that he wanted to die, just to make it stop. And all the while his mother looked on, her face expressionless, as she tortured her eldest son.
“It hurts doesn’t it? You are a disgrace, you will always be a disgrace. You are no Black, and you are certainly no son of mine!”
Then she lifted the curse, and stormed out of the room, followed by her husband.
“Out of the way Regulus!” she snapped, for Regulus had of course been listening at the door the whole time. He immediately scurried off to another part of the house, to be as far away from his raging mother as possible.
Sirius just lay there, panting. Tears began to blur his vision. His mind was a mess, with all of the events and happenings of the day jumbling around his head. But one thought was clear, he couldn’t, wouldn’t stay in this hellhole any longer. It was at that moment, that Sirius made the most important decision of his life. He was going to run away.
Wow, that was an intense chapter! Let me know what you think!
The sun had already sunk far below the horizon when Sirius snuck out of the house, via his window. After landing on the stone square on all four paws, and with a trunk filled with his few precious belongings in his mouth, he set off at a run. He didn’t know where he was going, or how he was going to get there, or even whether he was going to reveal himself in public places. All he knew was that by the time his folks woke up in the morning, he would be miles away. He never even looked back at what had used to be his home, not once. He would never look back, just as he would never, ever go back to that horrible place.
There were some definite advantages that came with choosing to become a large, black dog as his animagus form. He could run much faster than he could in his human form, and people were more willing to give scraps of food to a stray dog, than to a wandering teenager. In fact, James had often suggested that he make the change permanent, and Sirius had almost agreed. But the fleas, they were murder.
When the sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, Sirius decided that he was far enough away from home for it to be safe to walk around in his human form among other people. Besides, the suitcase was starting to become really heavy in his mouth. Even though it was only filled with a few necessary items, such as his school supplies, his wand, the letters from his friends, and the small, two-way mirror he used to talk with James, it was still pretty heavy for a dog. Sirius had considered using the mirror to tell James about his situation, but he wanted to wait until he had found a place to stay, before he broke the news to his best mate.
And so, gripping his suitcase in his now furless hand, Sirius began walking towards the heart of London. Of course, it would have been preferable to just apparate, but seeing as he still wasn’t of age, and wasn’t apparating with a responsible wizard adult, he would be violating the underage wizarding law. And he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, now that he had finally escaped from the clutches of his terrible mother. Sirius hoped that his friends weren’t planning on sending any owls to him, because his mother hadn’t known that Sirius was secretly communicating with his friends over the summer. If she had, she would have been furious with him. After all, he was a Black, and he was much higher in the social class than them. Sirius was sure, that if any letters addressed to him found their way to 12 Grimmauld Place, they would soon find their way straight into the fireplace.
The morning sun was high in the sky by the time he reached the city. Sirius made his way through the bustling crowds, now glad that he had chosen to wear muggle attire, as his robes would have attracted a lot of attention.
Tired and beaten, Sirius finally reached his destination. He had decided that it would be wise for him to hang out here for a little while, until he was ready to move on. It was a shabby little pub, squished between a big bookstore and a record store. In fact, it was so small, that all of the muggles walked straight past it, as though they didn’t even see it, which of course they didn’t. After finally squeezing himself between a group of old ladies loitering by the bookshop, Sirius took a deep breath, and stepped through the door of the Leaky Cauldron.
Sirius emerged from a crowded and noisy street, to a crowded and noisy pub. Witches and wizards were everywhere, sitting at tables, drinking butterbeer, and chatting with each other. Sirius could have sworn that he saw a hag sitting at one table.
Not wanting to draw attention to himself, and having not brought any money with him, Sirius decided to sit down at an empty table at the far corner of the room. He was just about to settle down for a most-needed nap, when he heard a voice from behind him that startled him very badly.
Sirius whirled around and turned to face the person who had spoken. But the minute he saw who it was, he smiled and said, “Hello uncle.”
The man standing before him was indeed Sirius’ uncle. He had long, shaggy hair, and was dressed in a set of stained robes. The squinting of his eyes, the sway of his body, and the slight slur in his voice when he spoke told Sirius that he was drunk, as usual.
Alphard Black was Sirius’ mother’s brother. He had always been different from the rest of the Blacks, preferring to spend his time in bars and pubs, rather than with the family. However he did run a successful business in potion manufacturing, and had a decent amount of gold stored away in Gringotts, the wizarding bank.
“Wat the ‘ell are you doing ‘ere?”
“I ran away from home uncle.”
Alphard raised his eyebrows, then sat down at the table beside Sirius.
“Ran away eh? Heh, guess ya ‘ad enough huh?”
“Yes. I just couldn’t take it anymore. They were going to force me to marry Harriet Blorsin!”
“You mean that idiot daughter of those stuck-up Blorsins?”
Sirius had to smile, his uncle knew exactly how he felt about Harriet. Whenever he came over to visit, he always spent some time listening to Sirius’ latest tales about Hogwarts, his friends and their adventures together, and that stupid Harriet who didn’t know a troll from a pixie. Of all of the Blacks in the history of the Blacks, Alphard was the only person who Sirius was glad to be related to.
“Yeah. But I lost my temper and yelled at her and she completely lost it. So I decided to leave. And I’m never going back.”
“So where are ya gonna go?”
At this question, Sirius bit his lip and looked down at the table.
“I don’t know.” He mumbled.
Alphard chuckled, took a swig from his drink, and looked straight at Sirius.
“So, ya ran away from home. But ya don’t know where ya going, and I doubt ya brought any money with ya?”
Sirius’ reply was barely audible.
Alphard coughed, and took another sip of his drink.
“Come with me.”
He led Sirius through the crowd to the back of the pub, where they emerged out into a small, walled courtyard, which only contained a single trashcan with a bunch of weeds sprouted out of the ground. Still drunk, it took Alphard awhile to locate the trashcan. And then he began senselessly poking his wand at various bricks in the general area above it.
“Here let me do it.”
Sirius stepped in front of his uncle and drew out his wand. Tapping the third up and second across brick from the trashcan three times, he stepped back and allowed the bricks to transform into a doorway in the wall in front of him. When it had finished and all the bricks had settled into their appropriate places, Sirius let his uncle step in front of him and lead the way as he followed.
And they emerged into the bright sunlight that was shining down onto the streets of Diagon Alley.
As they strode briskly down the street, Sirius was very curious as to where his uncle was leading him. But he said nothing as they wove through the crowds of witches and wizards hanging out in the streets, or going in and out of various shops. Diagon Alley was one of the few places in the world where witches and wizards could interact without worrying about any encounters with muggles. There were dozens stores located on the sides of the streets, where you could buy spell books, wands, potions, cauldrons, owls, and much, much more.
After several more minutes of walking, (or in Alphard’s case, staggering drunkenly) they came to a halt outside of a snowy white building that towered above all the other little shops. Gringotts, the wizarding bank.
Sirius stared at the enormous building in awe. Of course he had seen Gringotts before, many times, on trips to buy his school supplies. Although he had never been inside of it, as Mrs. Black preferred her husband to fetch their gold from the bank while they waited for him at the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Knockturn Alley was similar to Diagon Alley, but with a darker look, with stores that sold items concerning the Dark Arts.
Sirius shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was not going to even think about his old life. He had run away from it and was not going back, not even in his mind.
Sirius followed his uncle up to the large bronze doors, outside of which stood a goblin in a scarlet and gold uniform, who bowed as they walked inside. The goblin was very short, with a pointed beard and extremely long fingers and feet.
Now they were facing a set of silver doors, upon which was engraved these words:
Enter stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
This time there was a pair of goblins outside the doors, who also bowed as they walked by. The two wizards then emerged into a vast marble hall, which contained a long counter where about a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools, writing on papers, using scales, and doing other tasks pertaining to a bank.
Alphard walked to the first free goblin and said, “I’d like to make a withdrawal from Vault 421.”
The goblin, who had particularly long fingers, took in Alphard’s stained robes, his bloodshot eyes, and the bottle that he still held in his hand.
“Do you have the key sir?” he asked in a scratchy voice.
“’Course I do. Sirius hold this.”
He shoved his bottle into Sirius’ hands and began searching in his pockets for the key.
“Here.” He said at last, placing a small, golden key upon the counter.
“Seems to be in order.” Said the goblin, after a quick examination of the key. “Griphook here will take you down to the vault.”
Another goblin appeared from behind the counter, took the key, and started off to another set of doors at the other end of the hall.
Alphard turned around, and then looked at Sirius incredulously.
“What do ya think ya’re doin’ with that bottle? Ya shouldn’t be drinking at your age. Gimme that!”
Bemused, Sirius handed over the bottle, knowing full well that he would never get drunk and become as crazy and forgetful as his uncle.
“Well, come on!”
And so Sirius followed his uncle and the goblin Griphook down into the vaults of Gringotts.
As they were hurtling down the thousands of passageways that led to the vault, Sirius stared in amazement and wonder through squinted eyes at the rock walls and sights as they whizzed past. A retching noise came from his uncle, who was near the front of the cart, and Sirius jerked his head back just in time to see a blob of who-knew-what flash by, exactly where his head had been moments before. This was following by a sickened groan from Alphard.
The cart started to slow down, and at last came to a halt outside a small door in the rock wall. They all stepped out of the cart, first Griphook, then the still slightly sick Alphard, and finally the bewildered Sirius.
Griphook waited at the vault door impatiently with Sirius. Alphard, who had the key, was busy depositing the rest of his insides at the opposite wall, with much retching and groaning.
Finally he recovered enough to stagger over and shakily hand the key over to Griphook. Griphook then inserted the key into a hidden lock, and opened the vault door, which creaked loudly, its sound enhanced as it echoed off of the cave walls.
Sirius, who had never seen the inside of a vault before, peered in curiously to see what lay within. He was amazed to find piles of gold, stacked on the vault floor. There were heaps of bronze knuts, stacks of silver sickles, and mini-towers of gold galleons. He had never seen so much gold in his life, as his father had always gone down to the vaults alone to get their money. The look of it, sparkling and shining, their light reflecting off of each other, silenced him. He stood there, taking it all in. He had had no idea just how successful his uncle’s business had been, but apparently it paid off very well indeed.
Alphard elbowed in past Sirius and took out a small drawstring bag from inside the folds of his stained cloak. He then proceeded to fill it up to the top with coins, mostly galleons.
Then he walked out, motioned for Griphook to close the vault door, and shoved the bag into Sirius’ hands.
Thinking that his uncle just wanted him to hold onto the money until they returned to Diagon Alley, Sirius nodded and walked back towards the cart, clutching the sack carefully in his hands.
The ride back was as wild as the ride there, however Alphard, having emptied the contents of his stomach back at the vault, had a considerably more pleasurable time.
Once they had reached the surface, Alphard thanked the goblin, and then staggered out of the building. Sirius followed him until they had reached the Leaky Cauldron, where his uncle collapsed into a vacant seat, and ordered another drink, “For my stomach.”
After a pause, Sirius held out the bag of money for his uncle to take. But instead Alphard looked Sirius squarely in the eye and said in a horse voice,
“I gave that gold to ya. It’s for ya ta keep and do watever ya want with it. I suggest using it ta get ta wherever it is ya’re going.”
There was a long silence, during which Sirius stared at his uncle incredulously. All that gold? For him?
“For me?” He managed to say.
“Tha’s wat I said didn’t I?” replied Alphard with a smile. “Now go on! Git out of ‘ere, ‘fore someone finds ya.”
“Thank you so much uncle!” said Sirius gratefully. His uncle nodded and waved him away. Sirius turned to leave.
“Oh an’, Sirius?”
Alphard looked at his nephew affectionately.
And turning around once more, Sirius left with his bag full of gold, to begin a new life. He could hear his uncle calling out to him.
“An’ send me an owl when ya get there! God, I don’t wanta be the one who breaks the news ta ya’re mum, though I daresay she’s found out by now. I think I’ll stay away from tha’ bloody ‘ouse for a bit, ‘till she calms down. Now where’s tha’ man with my drink?”
It had been several days since that fateful encounter with his uncle, and Sirius had already used up half of the money given to him. He decided that it was time to stop wandering around, and to decide where he was going to go. Seating himself on a park bench, Sirius placed the suitcase with his things and money in it beside him.
Where could he go? Sirius’ first thought was Hogwarts, but he had no idea how to get there, or if they would even let him stay until the school year started. What if they turned him over to his parents? If that happened, if he was forced to go back to that horrible place after running away and disgracing the family name, Sirius didn’t even want to think about it.
So Hogwarts wasn’t an option. Where else could he go? Perhaps he could stay at one of his friends’ houses. At least until he could find somewhere else to go, probably after he graduated from Hogwarts. Sirius didn’t know much about Remus or Peter’s families, and he wasn’t sure if he would be welcomed there.
But James. James was his best friend, and he would never turn him away. And his parents had seemed so nice; maybe they wouldn’t mind having another son.
Even better, Sirius knew where James lived, and it wasn’t that far from where he was now, only about twenty miles away. In fact, if he left now, and ran the whole way in dog form, he could get there quickly, by tomorrow evening at the latest.
That’s what he would do then. Decided, Sirius stood up, made sure that no muggles were around, and transformed. Gripping his suitcase in his mouth, Sirius ran off down the road as fast as he could.
It was very late in the evening when Sirius stopped to rest. Gently placing down his suitcase by a large oak tree, he sat down, panting with exhaustion. His long, dog-tongue hung out, as he tried to catch his breath.
Just when he was about to continue on his way, he spotted a small shack that was hidden in the foliage. Smoke was rising from the tiny stone chimney, indicating that someone had lit a fire inside. Sirius was getting very hungry. Perhaps whoever lived there would give him something to eat. Sirius decided to go in dog form, so that he could beg for food from the inhabitant of the place.
So trotting over to the small door, Sirius scratched the wooden surface with his paw, and began to whine loudly.
He heard some noise on the other side, and soon the door was opened by a large man. It was hard to see him in the darkness, but he appeared to be a heavily-built man, and in a way, he reminded Sirius of Professor Slughorn, who was the potions teacher at Hogwarts.
“Who’s that out there? Why it’s a dog. Now why is there a dog outside old Steve’s door? I like dogs, want does it want from old Steve?”
Sirius bent down and whined loudly, giving old Steve the begging puppy look. It always worked, no matter who he gave it to.
“Look at that face, why’s he looking at old Steve like that? Does he want food from old Steve?”
Sirius barked loudly.
“He does! Well then old Steve will bring him inside and give him something to eat. He doesn’t have a collar, he must be a stray then.”
Old Steve stepped out of the way, and Sirius padded eagerly into the cottage. It was very small, with Spartan furnishings. There was a small fireplace set into the corner of the room, with a large, weathered armchair in front of it, which was the only piece of furniture in the place.
So curious was Sirius about this place, that even with his enhanced dog hearing, he failed to catch what old Steve was saying as he shut the door behind him.
“Old Steve likes dogs, yes. And no one owns this dog. Old Steve will keep it, yes. It will be old Steve’s dog now.”
The sound of the lock clicking shut made Sirius turn around. And before he knew what was happening, the man jumped him. Sirius tried to break away but old Steve was very strong. Wrestling Sirius to the ground, he seized a coil of rope lying on the floor and tied it around Sirius’ neck. Still pinning poor Sirius to the ground, old Steve proceeded to tie the other end of the rope to a hook protruding from the wall. He then released Sirius.
Yelping and barking loudly, Sirius struggled to break free and attack his captor. But to no avail, the rope held fast and he only succeeded in nearly strangling himself. Sirius lay down, panting.
“You’re gonna live with old Steve from now on, dog. Be a good dog now, or old Steve is gonna halfta put you over there with Charlie. Charlie was old Steve’s old dog, but he was bad to old Steve, so old Steve took care of him.”
Old Steve smiled and motioned to a rug that lay in front of the fire. With a mixture of shock and horror, Sirius realized that the rug was actually the body of a dog, with the innards all removed, so all that remained was the ruffled, dark brown fur.
“Old Steve will call you Blackie, because your fur is all black.”
He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a really good joke.
“Good night Blackie. Old Steve will have lots of fun with you in the morning. Old Steve will train you, yes. You will be a good dog Blackie, a very good dog.”
Old Steve walked over to the armchair in front of the fireplace and within minutes, was snoring soundly. Sirius however, couldn’t sleep. He struggled and pulled at his rope. It was no use, he couldn’t break it, and he couldn’t transform because he had left his wand with his suitcase under the oak tree. And now here he was with an insane muggle called old Steve, and if he didn’t behave, he was going to end up like poor Charlie by the fireplace.
Resting his head in his paws, Sirius whined softly. He had been in a lot of tricky situations before but James had always been there with him. This time he was alone, and he had no clue how he was going to get out of this one.
I'm so glad I finally got to post this chapter. Thanks to the book Magyk for the idea of old Steve! Don't forget to leave feedback!
It was already several hours past sunrise when old Steve woke up. Sirius had not slept a wink the entire night. He had spent hours trying to break free, and even more hours thinking. Thinking what his parents were doing. Thinking how James and his friends were reacting when no one responded to their letters. Thinking what would happen if someone stumbled upon the trunk he had left under the oak tree. Thinking if anyone would know if he died here . . .
Old Steve rolled over, scratched his stomach, gave a huge yawn, and sat up, blinking sleepily. Sirius could now see the man more clearly with the help of the morning’s light coming in from a hole in the wall that was probably used as a window.
Old Steve was a bald, round man. His skin was very white, for he almost never ventured outside of his hut except to hunt and to buy some items from the nearest town, which was almost two miles away. He was dressed in rags, which were stained and soaked through from too many drinks. As he looked around the room, Sirius could see that he had little bloodshot, beady eyes that had sunken into his taunt face. And the smell.
Poor Sirius, being in a dog form, had a very keen sense of smell. And the odor that was emanating from this man smelled ten times worse than Kreacher, who had never bathed once in all his many years of serving the Blacks. The smell was also probably because of a lack of hygiene, for the shack had only one room in it, and Sirius couldn’t see a drop of water anywhere.
That wasn’t to say that there weren’t any liquids in the small house. Quite the contrary in fact. Piled all over the floor, were scattered bottles of beer, some empty, some that had not even been opened yet. The tattered armchair where old Steve was sitting was covered in bottles, almost as though they had become his blanket.
Sirius was distracted from his thoughts by a very loud belch that erupted from the filthy mouth of old Steve. He then reached for one of the bottles that lay on the floor, and tried to take a sip from it, but it was empty. Sirius started to growl, and old Steve looked over in his direction.
“So you is up is you Blackie? You is a good dog Blackie, a very good dog. Old Steve will get you some food Blackie, yes.”
Old Steve staggered over to the corner where Sirius was sitting. Sirius tried to bite him, but the rope was too short and he couldn’t reach the horrid man.
“Now, now Blackie. If you is going to be a bad dog, old Steve will have to be mean to you.”
Old Steve snatched up a sack lying in the corner of the room and reached inside. After some rummaging, he found was looking for, and tossed a small piece of meat in front of Sirius.
“Now Blackie, if you is a good dog, you is going to get more meat. If you is a bad dog, you is going to get no meat and you is going to be dead like Charlie.”
Sirius sniffed at the meat, it was rotten, and there still was some light brown fur clinging to it, as well as the faint odor of a rabbit. Sirius pushed it away with his paw, thinking that he would never eat something like that.
“Oh you is a bad dog Blackie! No more meat for you!”
So old Steve swiped the rancid piece of meat off of the floor and stuffed it back into the bag.
“Now Blackie, old Steve is going train you. Get up Blackie! Get up!”
But Sirius only looked at him scornfully. He wasn’t taking any orders from a drunken muggle.
“Get up Blackie! Get up!”
But Sirius refused, he just sat where he was.
“Bad dog! Bad dog! BAD DOG!”
Old Steve was in such a rage, that he chucked the empty beer bottle towards Sirius, where it smashed against the wall, inches above his head. As shattered glass rained down on his head, Sirius jumped up with a yelp. This muggle was insane.
Old Steve saw that Sirius had stood up and he calmed down immediately, he even smiled.
“Good dog Blackie! Good dog! You is learning! You is learning!”
The rest of the day passed in the same manner. Old Steve would tell Sirius to sit, lie down, stay, or speak, and Sirius would refuse. Then Old Steve would get angry and throw something at Sirius, who would then proceed to do whatever silly command had issued from his tormentor’s mouth. After shaking the glass from his fur for the fifth time, Sirius decided to start cooperating. That last bottle had come pretty close. And after all, the old muggle might get even angrier, and then Sirius would have a lot more to worry about than a few pieces of glass . . . like how he would look as a rug.
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Last edited by witchsmart; February 5th, 2007 at 2:31 am.
Sirius did not know how long he stayed in that shack. Many days had passed, it could have even been weeks, he did not know. Time passed by in a blur, and Sirius moved slowly from one torturous day to the next.
When old Steve placed another disgusting piece of meat in front of him Sirius did not object. Reduced to little more than skin and bones, Sirius ate the entire chunk of meat within seconds, as he had done so many other times. The meat was extremely rotten, and it was making him sick. If he kept going on like this, he would die.
Meanwhile old Steve, oblivious to Sirius’ pain, was delighted with his new dog. There was nothing he enjoyed more than commanding Sirius to do whatever he wanted him to do. And Sirius obeyed instantly, afraid that the man would hurt him if he didn’t. Sirius prayed that old Steve wouldn’t tire of him, or else he was dead for sure. But as the days continued to pass by, slowly and painfully, Sirius started to wish for the day when old Steve would tire of him, so that it could all end.
Then there came that fateful day. The morning began as usual. Old Steve woke up, took a long drink from one of the dozens of bottles scattered throughout the room, then staggered over to Sirius.
He reached for the sack where he kept the “treats” that he gave to Sirius if he did what he was told.
“Get up Blackie!” he said.
Sirius tried to obey, he really did. But after spending too much time trapped in the shack, eating nothing but rotten meat chunks, Sirius was very weak. He struggled to get to his feet, and wobbled there for a few seconds. But then his legs gave out and he collapsed onto the floor.
“Old Steve said get up Blackie!”
But no matter how hard he tried, Sirius couldn’t stand.
Enraged, old Steve threw his half-empty bottle at Sirius. This time his aim was true. He hit Sirius straight on, who yelped in pain as the glass shattered against his weakened body. Now dripping with beer, Sirius tried again to stand. But he still couldn’t.
“BAD DOG! BAD DOG!”
The actions that old Steve took then might not have been as severe if only there had been more beer in the house. But the man hadn’t gone into town for weeks and his supply had run lower than he thought. He soon discovered, as he searched frantically for a drink to calm him down, that the bottle he threw at Sirius had been the last one with any liquid in it. As it was, there was no beer, and old Steve had always been one to exaggerate the situation. For him, Sirius’ mere failure at standing up was intolerable, unacceptable.
After searching every single bottle in the house and not finding even a single drop of beer, old Steve became even angrier. His face was beet red, and the veins stood out strongly in his neck. Sirius knew that this was the end for him.
Screaming with rage, old Steve chucked every bottle that he could lay his filthy hands on at Sirius. Half of them missed, instead soaring straight out the window, or crashing against the walls. A couple of them shattered into a million pieces upon contact with the floor.
But a few of them found their way to Sirius. He closed his eyes in pain as the glass exploded upon him. He tried to close everything out the pain, and the continuous cries of “BAD DOG! BAD DOG!” He was going to die there, and no one would ever know.
Just as he felt that he couldn’t go on any longer, one of the bottles crashed into the wall directly above the leash that bound Sirius to the wall. Normally, this wouldn’t have done a thing. But after spending day after day of tugging, pulling, and chewing on the rope that restrained him, Sirius had gotten to the point where there were only a few thin strands of rope left. All it needed was one last bite.
That bite came as one particularly large piece of glass fell down directly onto the rope. The sharp edge of the glass cut through the last few remaining strands, splitting the rope in two. Sirius was free!
But could he still escape? Sirius decided then and there that he could not, would not die. Not there, in that filthy corner, alone and hurt with a psychotic, drunken muggle. Mustering every ounce of strength that he had left in his body, Sirius hauled himself to his weakened paws, and bolted for the hole in the wall that served as a window.
Blood was pounding in his ears, he couldn’t hear anything else. Not even old Steve’s cry of rage and he jumped . . . and flew out of the window.
But Sirius didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down as he snatched up his dusty suitcase, and ran.
“Come back Blackie! COME BACK!” bellowed old Steve. But Sirius was long gone, running as hard as he could to get as far away as possible from that man, that devil.
He didn’t stop running, not even when old Steve’s cries had faded away into the distance. Even though each step that he took caused him great pain, he didn’t stop.
So when James opened his front door to find the sweaty body of a badly injured black dog lying on his porch next to a beat up suitcase, he couldn’t have been more shocked.
I've been picturing that chapter for a while, I'm so glad that I was finally able to get it out! Please leave feedback!
Last edited by witchsmart; February 5th, 2007 at 8:29 pm.
Sirius was walking through the dark hallways of Number12, Grimmauld Place. He couldn’t see where he was going, and the hallway stretched on and on. After walking for what seemed like an age, Sirius stopped to rest. Suddenly he heard a noise behind him and he turned around.
His mother was standing behind him, her cold, piercing eyes penetrated his. Her lips curled back into a sneer as she said,
“So, tried to run away did you? Thought you could escape from me? Well it doesn’t matter, you will never escape, and when I find you, I’m going to kill you! You won’t get away with disgracing the noble name of Black! I’ll kill you! You’re no son of mine!”
Then, before Sirius’ very eyes, his mother’s shape grew blurry for a moment, and then focused to reveal the hunching form of Kreacher.
“There he is, the young master. Disgracing the household and upsetting my poor, poor mistress. She hates him so, yes. Blasted his name right off of the family tree she did. Serves him right, distressing my poor mistress so.”
Sirius tried to run away, but his body was paralyzed. Kreacher’s elfin body morphed into the tall figure of his father’s. Like the two people before him, he spoke to Sirius,
“Why did you run away son? You could have settled down and had a nice life with the Blorsins’ daughter . . .”
Sirius tried to shout, tried to tell his father that he would not have had a nice life with that idiot, but his mouth was, as was the rest of his body, paralyzed. Before he could do or say anything, his father turned into his brother Regulus, who laughed and jeered at him.
“Mum was so upset when you left! She went crazy! She hates you you know. She’s removed you from the family! You’re not a Black anymore!”
Again Sirius tried to call out, to angrily tell his pig-headed brother that he didn’t want to be a Black anymore. But he was still held captive by some unknown force. And could only watch helplessly as Regulus became his Uncle Alphard. Uncle Alphard shook his head sadly and said,
“So ya just ran off without knowing where ya was going. That’s bound to lead to trouble, ya know. Ya should’ve used ya’re ‘ead Sirius . . .”
And then, to Sirius’ horror, Alphard took on the form of old Steve, who was brandishing a knife and saying,
“Old Steve will find you, Blackie. You can’t hide from old Steve forever. Old Steve will find you, and Old Steve will make a bad dog like you into a nice rug like Charlie. Old Steve will find you! Find you! Find you!”
Sirius tried to cover his eyes and make it all go away.
Sirius’ mouth unfroze and he shouted, “Go away. Go away! Leave me alone!” he yelled.
“Sirius! Sirius wake up!”
“NO! No! Leave me alone! Leave me alone. Leave . . . me . . . alone. . .”
“Sirius wake up!”
Sirius bolted upright. His entire body was covered in a cold sweat. Breathing heavily, he looked around.
He was lying down in a bed. His arms and legs, now human, were covered with bandages and a sticky orange paste. The room where he was was covered in posters of various Quidditch teams. There was a small desk in one corner that was piled high with spell books and school items. A wooden dresser was sitting next to his bed, upon which sat his suitcase, now washed and cleared of any mud or grime. And there, sitting in a small wooden chair next to the bed, his eyes wide open in worry, was James.
“Are you all right Padfoot? You were shaking all over. Bad dream mate?”
Sirius nodded. “Yeah,” he said shakily, “Bad dream.”
He tried to forget what he has seen; after all, it was only a dream. But he could not forget old Steve’s words, “Find you! Find you!” And he knew that he never would. Turning James he said,
“I found you lying on the front porch mate. You were beat up real badly, so mum patched you up. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
Three days, had it really been that long?
“While mum was fixing you up, I sent an owl to the other Marauders and told them what happened. Here, these are for you Padfoot.”
He reached over to the dresser and handed a stack of envelops to Sirius. Sirius stared at the envelops for a while, then James said,
“Why didn’t you send me an owl, or contact me through the mirror?”
“I, I forgot, I guess.” Said Sirius quietly. Of course he hadn’t forgotten, but Sirius had been afraid. Afraid that if he had asked James if he could stay with him, James might have said no, and then where would he have gone?
“You forgot.” James shook his head. “You know Padfoot, sometimes I think that you’re starting to get as thick as Wormtail. What happened to you anyway? You were half-dead when I found you.”
Sirius now turned his attention to the stack of letters sitting on his lap. He picked the first one up. It was from Remus.
“See how thick that is? Moony is probably going to say how stupid and irresponsible you were and blah blah blah.”
James grinned, and Sirius managed a hoarse laugh, more like a bark. Then he slit open the envelope and began to read.
Are you insane!? Running away from home like that without telling any of us? You could have been killed! That was really, really irresponsible of you. You’re very lucky that James found you! He told me that you were badly hurt. What happened to you? As soon as the full moon passes, I’m going to come over there to make sure that you’re alright. And what is your mother going to do? You know how angry she gets, what is she going to do when she finds you? Did you even think of the consequences of running away? I doubt it. You and James are both stubborn, impulsive, spontaneous fools. You never think these things through. I hope you learned your lesson! You should have sent an owl to one of us, and then we could have helped you! Don’t you ever, ever do that again; it scared me half to death when James sent me that owl telling me what had happened. Of course I knew that something had happened when you weren’t answering my letters. So I sent an owl to James and he said that you hadn’t been answering the mirror either. Please think next time before you do something stupid! And you wonder why you weren’t chosen as Head Boy. You are very, very lucky that you didn’t die in the middle of nowhere; we would never have found you! I can’t believe you were this irresponsible! I hope that you’ve thought long and hard about what you did. I’ll be over soon to see you. I hope that you’re feeling better and that you’ve thought about your actions.
Sirius chuckled softly as he read the letter. Remus could be such a worry-wart sometimes. But still, he was right; he should have thought things through before he ran away. Otherwise he wouldn’t have ended up like this.
Sirius handed the letter over to James, who read it quickly. He snorted and said,
“I told you! He just kept saying how irresponsible and stupid you were mate. What a waste of parchment.”
Sirius smiled, and then looked at the next envelope. This one was from Peter.
I heard that you ran away. I hope that you’re alright. It’s a good thing that Prongs found you, otherwise you might have died. I’ve been thinking about running away from home too, but you’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to end up like you. I hope that you’re okay, and I’ll see you at school.
After reading this letter, James shook his head.
“‘He wanted to run away from home’, I doubt it. He’s probably just saying that you impress you or something Padfoot. I swear, Wormtail’s thicker than a brick wall.”
Sirius didn’t hear this last part, because the next letter had caught him off guard. It was from his uncle, Alphard.
“How did he know I was here?” Sirius wondered out loud.
“Who?” asked James, leaning over to see the name. “Oh him, I dunno mate.
An owl flew in here yesterday and it was addressed to you.”
Curious as to what his uncle had written, Sirius opened the letter and began to read.
I hope that this letter finds you alive and well. It’s a highly trained owl, and supposedly it’s able to find you no matter where you are. I hope that you’re someplace safe, and that you’re okay.
Unfortunately I have some bad news for you. It’s about your brother, Regulus. I’m afraid Sirius, that he’s joined the death eaters. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you have a right to know. I don’t know where he is, or if he’s still alive, your parents thought he was a hero for joining Voldemort. An idiot more like, he’ll be killed, either by an Auror or by a death eater. Your mother wasn’t too happy about you running away, but you don’t have to worry about her coming after you, she’s “removed you from the family”. And me as well, when she found out that I gave you that gold to help you escape. Oh well, it’s not a big loss.
I don’t know whether I’ll be able to contact you again, but I wish you the best of luck in your new life.
It took Sirius a long time to process what he had just read. His brother, his little brother Regulus, had joined the death eaters. He had become one of those pure-blood obsessed murderers. He had become a follower of Voldemort. And his parents loved him for it . . .
James took the letter from out of Sirius’ limp hands and read it over. When he was done he looked at Sirius sadly and said, “I’m sorry Sirius.”
Sirius nodded. He stared into space, not thinking at all. His mind was a total blank.
Sirius looked over at James.
“This might not be the best time, but, what happened to you, after you left home?”
Sirius was silent for a while.
“Of course if you don’t want to talk about it now, I understand.”
“No, it’s alright.” Sirius said.
And he proceeded to tell James everything that had happened to him after his friends had left him at Platform 9 ¾. When he got to the part when his mother used the Crucio curse on him, James cried out angrily. And when Sirius told him about his encounter with old Steve, James’ jaw dropped, and he sat there dumbstruck for a while.
“And then I ran and ran, until I collapsed on your porch.” Finished Sirius. “I blacked out and the next thing I knew, I was here.”
James stared as Sirius disbelievingly.
“Wow,” he said, “That’s, that’s unbelievable.”
“Yes,” murmured Sirius. “Unbelievable.”
And he lay back in bed, until the weariness of his travels caught up with him again, and he drifted off to sleep.
Sirius awoke to complete silence. For a moment, he thought that he was back at 12 Grimmauld Place, where it was always quiet. There were no children running through the halls, no sounds of conversation, just silence. Sirius would often lay in his bed for a few minutes, listening for signs of life. Then eventually he would get up and begin his dreary day.
Here though, Sirius soon discovered that it was not as silent as he had first thought. He could hear the sounds of birds chirping outside the window, the soft whoosh that cars made as they drove by on the streets. And, Sirius could just make out the faint sound of people’s voices drifting up from the floor below.
Sirius lay there for a while, listening to the normal, yet abnormal to him, sounds of the morning. Finally he sat up, tossed the white sheets off of himself, and got out of bed for the first time in days.
It wasn’t easy, his legs shook and his knees wobbled. Sirius felt as though he was going to collapse. But after a few moments of shaking, he regained his balance, and slowly stumbled towards the stairs.
Going down was a real challenge. Sirius’s legs were still very weak from their many days of hardship. His knuckles whitening, Sirius clung tightly to the smooth wooden banister for support. At first his steps were painful, but after managing to stagger about halfway down the staircase, Sirius found that his steps came easier, and by the time he reached the bottom floor, Sirius could walk almost regularly.
The voices that he had heard were coming from a small, brightly lit room. From the smell of the various aromas that were come from it, Sirius assumed that it was the kitchen. There were several people inside, and Sirius recognized two of the voices.
In the center of the kitchen stood a round wooden table, and seated in matching chairs around it, were four people. Sirius recognized the two adults from the train station. Even if he hadn’t, he would have known that the man with the untidy black hair and the woman sitting beside him could only be James’ parents. On the other side of the table sat two boys. One was leaning back in his chair and talk animatedly to the other three people. The other teenager was a pale faced boy who was leaning forward in his seat, with a worried expression on his face.
“So then, just as I’m about to set off th- Padfoot! Didn’t see you there mate!”
James stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed his friend leaning weakly against the doorframe. The other boy jumped up immediately and rushed over to his side.
“Sirius you shouldn’t be out of bed!” Remus said in a worried tone.
“Sorry.” Sirius muttered, not able to meet the stares of the two adults. “I was just getting hungry and-”
“Say no more my dear.” Interrupted Mrs. Potter, who rose and headed over to the stove upon which something delicious-smelling was boiling.
Remus led Sirius over to his vacated seat, and Sirius sat down. Mrs. Potter brought over a bowl of steaming soup, and Sirius eagerly began eating.
“Be careful! It’s really hot!” warned James’ mother. But it was too late; Sirius had already shoved mouthfuls of the steaming stuff into his mouth and was currently busy chugging down large amounts of water. James laughed and even Remus managed to smile a little.
After Sirius had put out the fire in his mouth, he returned to gulping down his soup, as if he was afraid that something so delicious was going to disappear if he didn’t eat it fast enough. He hadn’t eating anything this good since, well since Hogwarts really. The food at Grimmauld Place had never been any good.
“Slow down son, you’re going to choke.” Advised Mr. Potter.
“Come on dad, he hasn’t had anything but dog food for months!” Joked James. “Isn’t that right Padfoot?”
Sirius nearly choked on his soup as he laughed. James smiled, glad that he had been able to cheer his friend up.
“So Sirius,” asked Remus. “What are you going to do now? Until we go back to Hogwarts of course.”
Sirius didn’t answer, of course he wanted to stay here with James, but he hadn’t even asked his parents yet. But what he heard next made him drop his spoon with surprise. It landed in the empty bowl with a small clatter. Flecks of soup splattered on the table, but Sirius took no notice.
“Why he’s going to stay here of course. We’d love to have another son.”
Sirius stared at James’ dad in disbelief, had he really just said what he thought he said?
“Of course. We’re not going to let him go back to those awful people.” Said Mrs. Potter. “Sirius is going to stay right here until he goes back to school with James. Of course, if that’s alright with you Sirius.”
At first Sirius didn’t say anything. Then as the words sunk in, his entire body was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with his soup.
“Yes. Yes I’d love to stay here with you!”
“Then it’s settled.” Said Mr. Potter. “You can sleep upstairs with James. Welcome to the family Sirius.”
“Cheers mate!” said James, holding up his glass. “You are now an honorary Potter! We are going to have so much fun this summer!”
“Yeah.” Said Sirius, smiling as he held his glass up as well.
“To family!” said Mr. Potter.
“To friends!” said James.
To freedom. Thought Sirius. And he smiled and laughed with the rest of his family.
Well that was it! I hope you enjoyed it! I can't wait to write my second fan fic!
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