Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter books or movies or, really, anything exciting.

A/N: After writing nearly 100,000 words worth of Rocky Horror fanfiction (see my profile page for details), I've decided to write something based on Harry Potter. Nearly all of the characters are canon. Some, however, are only referenced pictured on the Black Family Tapestry (or, in Uncle Al's case, burned off for being a "blood traitor" and mentioned by Adult!Sirius). That gives me room to get creative. I'm trying to be as historically accurate as possible, too. According to the internet the comic books/comic magazines mentioned would've existed in England (the setting) circa. the 1960s-1970s. This chapter takes place in '69 (as evidenced by Sirius's age). The rest takes place from 1971-1978 (when Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs attended Hogwarts).

Those three curse words become plot-relevant eventually. Also, I'd heard a number of extremely rude words by late Elementary/early Middle School (usually from other kids). Sirius - as portrayed here - probably would've, too. I'm also trying to be funny. On a related note, this story's definition of the c-word comes from Trainspotting.

And, yes, I gave Sirius the initials S.O.B. (Sirius Orion Black). I couldn't find his real middle name anywhere. Also, he keeps calling his mother "that bitch" because she's a racist, well, bitch. It's something of a joke.

Sirius Black was not fond of his mother, Walburga. Even at the ripe old age of 9.

Her hatred of the non-magical world (not to mention half-bloods and muggle-borns) really bothered the poor boy. Muggles weren't so bad, he thought. They'd made up for their lack of powers by inventing cool cars and fast motorbikes. Oh, and rock n' roll music. Sirius'd seen Top of the Pops a few times, after sneaking out of 12 Grimmauld Place and into a nearby pub. He found it far more exciting than "football" (a confusing, slow, much-less-messy version of Quidditch), something that the muggle men and boys seemed to enjoy.

Sirius also enjoyed running off visit local playgrounds. Younger muggles also knew the most amusing swear-words. If it hadn't been for a small gang of slightly older boys - most of which happened to be in the 10 to 13 range - Sirius never would've learned words like "fuck" ("a word used to express intense frustration. Alternately, something gross that involves showers and kissing and icky stuff"), "cunt" ("a general insult applicable to persons of any gender"), and "poof" ("a man who dresses flamboyantly and adores West End Musicals"). He found their games interesting, too. Respectable pure bloods didn't play tag, leap-frog, or even Doctor Who vs. Daleks.

His favorite Uncle, a quiet bachelor named Alphard, often enabled this rebelliousness. After all, Uncle Al held similar views… yet, unlike Sirius, he tended to be rather quiet about them. This didn't stop him from taking his nephew to parks, museums, and the like. Sirius preferred the former, of course… though anything was better than staying home. So, whenever Sirius visited his rather rich Uncle Al, they'd gone on a little adventure. Sometimes there'd also be action figures or comic magazines to play with. The strange, unmoving adventures of Valiant characters - from the heroic Captain Hurricane to the fiendish Steel Claw - fascinated Sirius. They also gave Alphard time to chat with his on/off roommate, an Egyptian cursebreaker and graduate of Uagadou named Magdi .

One day, in March of 1969, Uncle Al decided to take Sirius - and Magdi, oddly enough - to a wedding in the countryside. They also rode together on broomsticks. As they flew past a winding muggle road, Sirius began to ask questions. The curious boy just couldn't help himself.

"Why don't Wizards have motorcycles?" he said.

"Well, we've got brooms, apparition, portkeys, and the floo network. What else could we need, Sirius?"

The boy frowned. "Motorcycles're way cooler. Rockers, like the Beatles, ride 'em."

"The who?"

"No, not the Who. They're a bunch of Vespa-riding mods. I said, the Beatles." He paused. "That's a band, Uncle Al."

"Oh. Um, right," Uncle Alphard replied uncertainly.

The flew on. After about six hours - or so Sirius assumed - they arrived outside a small, old-timey village. The few shops he could see looked strangely Dickensian. Never-ending greenish hills, looming grey mountains, and snow-capped evergreen forests surrounded them. In the distance he spotted a large stone castle. It resembled Hogwarts (as pictured in a number of old yearbooks and faded postcards). He wasn't quite sure what to think of any of this.

"Where the hell are we?"

"What have I said about foul language?"

"Hell isn't that bad. You know, I could've said fu-"

"Sirius Orion Black!"

"Sorry, Uncle Al." He meant it, for once.

Neither spoke for a moment. Finally, Magdi said: "We're in Scotland. The village Hogsmeade, to be more specific. Your uncle wanted you to attend Arthur Weasley and Molly Prewett's wedding."

"Why?"

Uncle Al sighed. "They're your cousins, Sirius. Actually… second cousin's once removed or something similar. I thought you ought to be here."

"They aren't anything like that bit- I mean, my Mum… are they?"

"Quite the contrary. She'd call them 'blood traitors'," Uncle Al explained.

Sirius couldn't help but grin. "I can't wait to meet 'em."

And so, the two men and the boy walked towards the village. They carried thier broomsticks with them. Uncle Al also held an attractive leather briefcase. Sirius couldn't help but wonder what was inside. For once, though, he didn't ask. Trying to keep up with long-legged grownups sure took a lot of energy. Plus, he kept looking ahead - desperate to see these distant cousins. He'd never met a Weasley before. The Prewetts, on the other hand… well, some were considered respectable by that racist bitch Walburga. His Uncle Ignatius and Aunt Lucretia - often attended a dinner parties at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Poor Aunt Lucretia wept often, for reasons Sirius barely understood. Walburga often spend quite a bit of time comforting the soppy, sobby woman. Of course, to Sirius, this didn't make his mother any less of a twisted bitch. Even Gellert Grindelwald had loved ones, right? He's still an irredeemable cunt, thought Sirius, no matter what…

They eventually entered a small, dirty, dimly-lit pub called the Hog's Head. Sirius couldn't see why anyone would celebrate their wedding here. Unless they happened to be eloping, maybe. At least the guests - a small collection of vibrantly-dressed witches and wizards, including a few recognizable faces - looked happy enough. Quite a few had vibrant red hair.

Sirius scanned the room, searching for potential playmates. At one point he spotted a small boy with scruffy, black hair. The child stood directly in front of an elderly couple. His grandparents, maybe. As they spoke to a nearby friend - one of the redheads, possibly a Prewett - their grandson began making silly faces at Sirius. Game as always, the latter responded by sticking his tongue out.

Before he could go over and say hello, however, a man in priestly robes cleared his throat. The wedding had begun. Whilst Sirius fidgeted, vows were said and promises were made. Both halves of the couple had bright red hair. It all looked vaguely incestous. Then again, so were many wizarding weddings. Especially ones involving Purebloods.

A/N: What do you guys think? Too weird? Confusing? Unrealistic? Actually kinda decent? I'd like to know. Do leave a review... even if you think it's awful. Thanks to a few (accidentally) shocking articles, I'm used to nasty personal criticism ("you're a dangerous idiot in denial", etc). Also, if my readers despise something and tell me I'll be able to fix things.