Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter and I'm not making any money off this story
A/N: I'll attempt to update this twice a week, but I still haven't finished writing this story
Prologue
He wasn't there. Peter Pettigrew wasn't there at the hiding place he was supposed to be. With Death Eaters on the loose and Lord Voldemort out to kill baby Harry Potter, this was not a good time for Peter to be missing. Sirius Black felt a sense of dread coiling around his gut, and his skin broke out in goosebumps. He knew that James and Lily Potter had been called to an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting that night. They should be safe at least. But little Harry. Dear god! Harry! Sirius swung himself onto his black motorcycle, kicking it off into the inky night sky. Bloody Hell, couldn't this damn thing go any faster?
He leaned forwards on his bike twisting the throttle to its limit, his heart pounding with fear, ignoring the sharp bite of the chill autumn air. His long, dark coat whipped wildly in the wind behind him, but he paid it no heed. Faster, Faster! He could see Godric's Hollow coming into sight, and the house - oh no, the house! It looked like someone had cast Bombarda Maxima at it with far too much force. The sight was horrifying, like a gaping wound, bits of wood sticking up like exposed ribs. The dread within him exploded into full on terror, so intense that he could have choked on it. Damnable Peter! Damnable, bloody, treacherous rat! His descent was made near to full speed, completely disregarding his safety, or the safety of any other poor souls on the road that night. Thankfully, none of the muggles were out at this time of night. His landing was jolting as it hit the ground, a sickening nauseating twist of his wheels, and it was a miracle that he wasn't thrown off. His bike had left a black trailing mark on the pavement, but this was nearly impossible to see in the shadowy darkness.
From the ruins of the house, he could see an immensely tall and broad figure emerging, face and bushy hair coated with dust. In his arms, he cradled a small bundle with gentle care.
"Hagrid!" Sirius called out, amazed that he could find his voice through the choking thickness of his throat. "Harry, is he-" He couldn't bring himself to finish the question. It was too terrible to contemplate.
"He's alive," Hagrid replied, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Thank Merlin! And - the Evans?" Lily's parents had been watching Harry that night - the Evans had stayed with the Potters during their time in hiding. Lily had some said thing about how she wanted the extra help with the baby, though it had seemed rather mystifying to Sirius at the time. Nonetheless, if the Evans hadn't been there, then Lily and James would have been the ones at the house this night rather than the Evans. Hagrid was shaking his head woefully.
"Dead -" he said sadly, and could scarce bring himself to say anymore.
"Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I'm his Godfather. I'll bring him to James and Lily." Sirius reached out his arms for the small, quiet bundle, but Hagrid shied away.
"I've had me orders from Dumbledore to bring him straight to James and Lily, or to Dumbledore himself." Hagrid's expression was resolute.
"At least let me see him then? To make sure he's alright," Sirius said, a hint of pleading in his voice. Hagrid seemed to consider his words for a moment before relenting, and showing him the baby. Harry seemed to be sleeping contentedly, his breaths deep and even, but there was an oddly shaped scar on his forehead. Sirius frowned, but it seemed such a small thing, considering what had happened. The healers would be able to take care of it easily. What mattered was that Harry was indeed well.
As for Hagrid, there was no sense arguing with him about taking Harry. What's more, that rat Pettigrew was still on the loose, and the idea of him scurrying around, following the Dark Lord's orders made Sirius's blood boil.
"Take the motorbike to get Harry to them. I won't need it anymore." Sirius was already swerving away when a cry emerged from the ruins of the house, causing him to freeze on the spot.
"What in Merlin's name?" Sirius looked from the house to Hagrid unable to hide his shocked confusion. Hagrid seemed to have no answer, for his eyes were as wide as saucers, and he clutched Harry closer to his chest. Sirius looked back at the black gaping maw that led into the ruined house. The idea of going in there made his skin crawl, but the piercing wail from within tugged at his Gryffindor instincts. Without a second thought, he raced towards the dark entryway, following the sound.
The parlor of the house barely seemed to have suffered any damage. Most of it had been contained to the upper level where the nursery and bedrooms were, and the single side that had been largely blasted away. On the ground, lying belly down at an awkward angle was Mrs. Evans, clearly dead. The sight of the muggle baby bottle in her hand brought a sense of renewed horror. How in the world could any monster think to murder a baby? Yet it was in this room that the wailing cry was the loudest.
From the entryway, it wasn't visible, but when Sirius walked cautiously around the well worn sofa in the parlor, he was surprised to see a baby, even smaller than Harry, lying in a muggle baby bouncer. Whose baby was this? He didn't think the Evans were young enough to have another baby - it was well known that the muggles' fertile years were shorter than that of wizards. Disregarding the shrill, distressed cries that pierced his ears, he leaned down, and picked up the tiny baby. Contact with human hands seemed to quiet the little thing down, and it ceased its panicked wails, and blinked up at Sirius with that owlish expression that babies seemed to have. Shadowed in the baby bouncer, Sirius could not see the baby's face clearly, but as he lifted it up, the lights from the street filtered in, illuminating the small face. Why, it looked like Lily! Or rather, it looked like Lily with a hint of James thrown in.
The baby squirmed uneasily, and Sirius pulled it towards his chest, cradling it instinctively. Strange, but he never thought he had fatherly instincts. Maybe he was just used to it from holding Harry so much.
"Hush now, pup, it's alright. I've got you," he murmured gently. Gingerly making his way around the furniture, he exited the house, to see James, Lily and Dumbledore racing towards them, panic evident on their faces. Further behind, other members of the Order followed - Remus Lupin, the Longbottoms, the Prewett brothers and a few others.
"Harry! Rosie!" Lily was calling out, the voice of a distraught mother. She had collected the little bundle in Hagrid's arms, scanning his face with desperate care. Her eyes alighted on the lightning shaped scar on Harry's forehead and she furrowed her brow, but Harry seemed calm and otherwise well. The healers could surely make quick work of a little scar like that. Lily looked up at Sirius, and rushed over to him, her pace no longer as reckless now that she had a baby in her arms.
"Rosie - is she -"
"She seems fine," Sirius replied, reassuringly. He held the baby out towards her, despite her already full hands, but James was quickly coming up behind her, ready to take the child.
"Thank Merlin!" James was saying, as he cradled the little bundle who was now utterly calm. "Thank you Sirius. We were so -" His voice broke before he could finish the thought, and he looked down at the baby with a fierce, protective love.
"She's yours then?" Sirius asked. "Rosie, is it?"
"Primrose," Lily replied. "Primrose Lily Potter. Yes, she's ours. We were pregnant soon after Harry was born. With everything going on - well, it seemed a danger to bring another baby into the world - especially after the prophecy about Harry. We kept her secret. I used glamour charms to hide my pregnancy. We didn't want anyone else coming after us. We're sorry to have kept it from you, Sirius. It seemed the right thing to do at the time."
"But it was only until we could be sure we were all safe," James added, reassuringly. "We want you to be the Godfather for little Rosie as well."
Sirius felt as though his heart was expanding within his chest. He felt an immediate love and warmth for the little baby - felt it even before he knew it was Lily's and James's, but more so now that he knew the truth.
"I would be honoured," he choked out through the lump in his throat.
"Only my parents knew about her. That's why we had them come with us into hiding," Lily added, and suddenly her eyes widened, and she looked towards the ruin of her former home.
"My parents," she whispered, fear returning to her voice.
"I'm sorry, Lily," Sirius said, mournfully, resting his hand gently on her shoulder. "They tried to save -" He could not finish the statement. A sob escaped from Lily and her eyes filled with tears. James pulled his wife close to him with his spare arm, murmuring soothing comments into her hair. Eventually, the sobs subsided, and Lily steeled herself to enter the ruin of the house to tend to her beloved parents. James looked up at Sirius, with an expression of pain and betrayal in his eyes.
"Pettigrew." James's voice was low and threatening, with barely concealed rage and betrayal. Sirius nodded.
"I'll go after him." Sirius trotted towards his motorbike resolutely, ignoring the confused protests of the other Order members. He would see Pettigrew pay if it was the last thing he did.
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Chapter 1
1992
Primrose jolted awake suddenly, feeling as though she had just had a terrible nightmare. The street lamps shone into her bedroom, casting an orange glow, but it was still dark out, clouds obscuring the faint stars. She hadn't had a nightmare of course. Primrose remembered almost all of her dreams vividly - especially since they often helped her understand magical theory. Nonetheless, the feeling of horror crawled through her skin, and she knew it was Harry. He was having nightmares again. She tucked her long jet black hair behind her ear as she gazed in the direction of Harry's room.
Pulling the thick blankets aside, she crept out of the large, four poster bed and winced as her bare feet touched the chilled wood floors. She tiptoed towards her bedroom door, avoiding the floorboards that she knew would creak. Number twelve Grimmauld Place had plenty of creaky floorboards. Still, despite the occasional squeaking floorboard, it was a nice and stately home, with plenty of hiding places and mysteries to explore. Sure, the mounted house-elf heads were a little odd, but they had their own sort of charm. And Walburga Black's portrait did sometimes go off on tirades about blood traitors and mudbloods, but these days, she wasn't too bad. At least Primrose learned to have some rather pretty manners thanks to Walburga. Walburga certainly did appreciate pretty manners.
It wasn't as though she would get into trouble for sneaking around at night. Sirius was an extremely lenient guardian, and even if she woke him in his sleep (doubtful - the man slept like dragon glutted on too much cattle) Sirius never kicked up a fuss. It was just that after over 10 years of pranks, one learned to sneak around quietly, whether one needed to or not.
Harry's bedroom was directly across the hall. Neither of them ever left their doors locked. Only Sirius did, and that was because when Rosie and Harry discovered the Colour Change Charm, Sirius got rather sick of dealing with pink walls, peach blankets, and rosy dressers. Not to mention a glorious mane of neon pink hair. Primrose rather thought it brought out the striking grey colour of his eyes, but Sirius vehemently disagreed. A shame, really.
Opening Harry's door silently, Rosie tiptoed into his room. She could hear him moaning, and his head thrashed in distress. The feeling of horror intensified, and if she had had any less fortitude, she would have wanted to curl up into a ball on the floor, whimpering in agonized fear.
The fact was, Rosie seemed to have an empathic link with her brother. For as long as she could remember, she could feel as he felt, though the link weakened the further away they were from one another. Occasionally, Harry could feel Rosie's feeling as well, but not as intensely as Rosie could. This close, the nightmare Harry was trapped in stirred her emotions into panic until it seemed that the faceless darkness itself was determined to suffocate her, to kill and crush her. Her skin broke out in goosebumps, and she felt as though each step brought her closer to terror. It was as though some part of her expected to find not her brother, but rather, some mutilated inferi, ready to draw her into it's hungry grasp. If her feelings for her brother were weaker, she would have fled - would have blocked him, and his misery and torment out of her life. As it was, Harry was her best friend in the world, and Rosie loved her brother more than anything - yes, even more than Sirius, as fun as he was.
She walked up to the large four poster bed, and shook her brother lightly.
"Harry - Harry, wake up!" she hissed. "Harry!" She was shaking him a little more now. Suddenly he sat up, with a gasping breath, and the feeling of suffocating terror began to ebb.
"Rosie?" He said through a sleep heavy voice.
"You were having a nightmare again."
"Mm," he replied weakly, trembling as he remembered the horrible images in his mind.
"Which one was it this time?" she asked, in a half whisper. "Was it the one with the man yelling and the green light?" Harry shook his head.
"The kidnapping then?" she asked. When he was six, Harry had been kidnapped by rogue Death Eaters, but fortunately, he had been recovered before any harm had been done to him. Nonetheless, the experience had been a traumatic one, and Harry, who was already an anxious child, became further stressed and apprehensive.
"No. It was the other one. The obelisk." Harry's voice was flat, but he still trembled slightly. Primrose couldn't help her own shiver of dismay. 'The obelisk' could only mean one thing. No one had ever told her the full story, but she had been able to piece it together over the years - that horrible, horrible tale of what happened from October 31st to November 2nd, 1982.
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1982
Harry was two years old, and Rosie was one. Harry, Rosie, mum and dad had moved to a lovely home in The Rocklands, Chudley, which was a community of both muggles and wizards. After the terrible tragedy the previous years, the Potters had wanted to move away and start anew. With the Potter fortune, a new life was unsurprisingly easy to attain.
Harry remembered more of those days - all Rosie could really bring to mind was blue wallpaper, mum's emerald green eyes (though Harry did have the same eyes), and dad's mischievous grin. But Harry could remember visits from Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, and going to the park to play on the swings. He also remembered visits to healing specialists who eventually failed to remove his scar, and he even remembered Rosie's first incident of accidental magic. Apparently, mum, dad, Remus and Sirius had taken Harry and Rosie to the duck pond, and Rosie was so enamoured with the ducks that she did not want to go home. Being a one year old baby meant that she was rather helpless, so of course, when Sirius picked up his favourite she-pup, she cried out in distress, and ended up giving Sirius a rather impressive duck bill on his face. He may have also had a few feathers, here and there. Of course, mum, dad and Remus were in fits of laughter, and Harry, caught up in the moment, ended up "accidentally" giving Sirius a pair of impressive duck wings. Thankfully, Remus's lightening fast reflexes kept Rosie from being dropped on the ground, but despite that little scare, the rest of the marauders were tearing up from laughter at Sirius's shocked and indignant expression.
Life at Chudley was good. True, there were still rogue Death Eaters to be wary of, and Petter Pettigrew had never actually been found. But most were convinced that Voldemort was as good as dead, and good riddance! The Potter's home at The Rocklands had powerful protection spells to protect the happy little family. It was no Fidelius Charm, but none was needed. At least it kept away the rabid fans who wanted to see The Boy Who Lived, and no Death Eaters had ever been spotted in the vicinity.
The Potters were good friends with the Longbottoms, and Harry and Rosie often had playdates with the plump and happy Neville. Harry and Neville got on especially well, but that could have been because they were the same age, and Rosie was little more than a baby who wanted to put everything in her mouth ("No, no, Rosie," said mum, "The gobstone doesn't go in your mouth!")
The year passed as peacefully as one could expect during a period of time when witches and wizards were still trying to pick up the pieces of their lives after the war. James was often busy in his job as an Auror, rooting out Death Eaters that had gone into hiding, awaiting their Dark Lord's return. It was a dangerous but satisfying job and he was very good at it. The death of Mr. and Mrs. Evans, and the near-death of Harry had brought the family closer together than ever (if such a thing was possible), and James and Lily were deeply grateful for each day. It had also drawn their friends closer to them - Remus, Sirius, Frank and Alice Longbottom.
As the joyful and carefree (at least for the children) summer passed into fall, Lily seemed to grow increasingly melancholy. She desperately wanted to visit her parent's grave - especially on Hallowe'en - to honour their deaths. Their memorial was not in the wizarding world, but in the muggle world, where the Evans felt they belonged. Though they were proud of their beautiful and intelligent daughter, the Evans preferred the familiarity of the world they knew, and Lily honoured their wishes to be buried where they wanted. Unfortunately, leaving the safety of Chudley was a risk - there were still Death Eaters out there. As much as this little corner of the world felt peaceful and normal, the rest of the Britain was not necessarily as sedate or serene.
However, trusting in her own ability, and that of James's, the pair of them decided that they would leave Harry and Rosie with the Longbottoms while they ventured out into the muggle world. So, on Hallowe'en day, they gave a kiss goodbye from both of them to their little toddlers, and the loving pair apparated to their destination.
October 31st, 1982 (same day)
Sirius and Remus were at Remus's small flat, sitting on the sofa with Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in hand. The full moon would be on the following day, but at the moment, neither were thinking about that. Though Sirius had the Black fortune to fall upon, Remus was still struggling to find work in a world that was very prejudice against werewolves. Nonetheless, that didn't mean that Remus was unwilling to help Sirius on his projects.
Though Sirius did not have a job per se, that did not mean that he didn't make money. He was loathe to call it work, because it didn't feel like work. Rather, it was more like a hobby: Sirius made products for Zonko's Joke Shop. As of this day, he could proudly say that he was the creator of five best selling products (though some credit went to James and Remus who helped) and he hoped to be on his way to six.
He was at Remus's flat because Remus was better at charms than he was, and he was struggling to get his latest idea just right.
"I used the multiplicamini charm, and I've got the chocolate frog to kind of turn into tadpoles, but I can't seem to get the movement of them just right," Sirius was explaining, as he showed Remus the chocolate tadpoles that seemed to jerk rather than wiggle. His new idea was product that looked, acted and tasted like a chocolate frog, but when eaten, the frog would burst into chocolate tadpoles that swam out of the victim's mouth, anytime they tried to talk. The effect only lasted for 5 minutes but he hoped to extend it to at least 20. That and the dratted tadpoles didn't move right. They were too stiff and awkward.
"Hmm." Remus picked up the 'tadpole' quirking his lips up at the way it simply didn't look like a tadpole because it failed to wiggle. It looked more like the paddles of muggle pinball machines.
"Undulata perhaps?" Remus suggested. "Are these things still edible?"
"Of course they are!" Sirius exclaimed, ruffled at the note of doubt in Remus's voice. "It's just that they've been in someone's mouth. But you can still eat them." Remus chuckled in response.
"I'll pass. Could be useful if you're dealing with dementors," Remus said thoughtfully.
"I'm doing the wizarding world a great service, you know." Remus laughed at Sirius's mock serious expression.
"So serious, Sirius," Remus said, referencing an old joke of the Marauders. Sirius maintained his mock-serious expression in response, but only managed to look vaguely constipated.
The pair of them became absorbed in working on Sirius's project. A generous soul, Sirius always gave his friends a cut of his profits when they helped, but Remus rarely accepted except when his situation got desperate enough. ("After all, they're your ideas, not mine," he once said.) The Undulata charm did seem to get the tadpoles wiggling properly, but unfortunately, it also caused the chocolate frogs to wiggle as well. It was decidedly odd.
"So, the cubs are staying with the Longbottoms?" Remus asked later that evening when they had set aside Sirius's frog project. Sirius often babysat Rosie and Harry, but since the full moon was nearing, he kept company with Remus instead. The bonds of their friendship meant that Sirius couldn't bring himself to leave Remus alone when the time of the wolf came upon him, though it was certainly hard to resist the adorable little pups.
"That they are. James mentioned that they might stay the night with Lily's sister, depending on how things went." Sirius scrunched his nose in dislike as he thought of Petunia Dursley. He had only met her once, at Lily and James's wedding and that had been one time too many.
"They're staying overnight?" Remus replied in surprise. "I would have thought that they would want to get home to the cubs right away."
Sirius shrugged. "They said it was unlikely, but mentioned it just in case. The pups like the Longbottoms though. Neville's a good lad."
"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself more than you're trying to convince me," Remus observed.
Sirius grinned in response. "They're pretty cute. You can't deny that."
"That they are," Remus replied with his own grin, as he considered the way Harry would always want rides on his shoulder, and the way Rosie would suck on his knuckles as though he were a muggle pacifier.
Sirius ended up staying the night on Remus's couch (claiming he'd probably get splinched if he tried to apparate home, after a bit too much firewhiskey.)
The following day, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say afternoon, considering how late Sirius had slept in, Sirius and Remus were slowly drinking coffees at the kitchen table.
"You know, one thing I really miss about Hogwarts was the Forbidden Forest," Remus was saying wistfully. Sirius knew he was referring to the full moons, and the way they used to run free and wild through the woods. These days, they usually ended up locking themselves away in a room in Grimmauld Place, which was nowhere near as satisfying as roaming through a forest. While the company of Padfoot was an immense improvement over being locked up alone, it was still a long night.
"Why don't we apparate there?" Sirius suggested. In fact, the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. One could always count on Sirius to be impulsive.
"With Lily and James gone, I don't think it's the best idea to just leave," Remus replied, but his argument, though valid, sounded weak on his lips. He longed to run freely - to leap, and bound, and feel the wind through his fur coat.
"Well, even if they weren't gone, it would hardly make a difference. At this time of month, there's nothing we could do anyway."
"There's nothing I can do. But you should still be here. They might need you." Remus was ever the responsible one.
"Well, you can't go roaming the forest alone."
"I wasn't planning on roaming the forest alone. We'll go to Grimmauld Place." Remus tried to speak with more conviction.
"If you say so, Moony," Sirius replied, but there was a gleam in his eye that spelled mischief.
Later that night, at Hogwarts
The young Slytherin student was unable to sleep that night, as was the case most nights. On such nights, he often made his way to the astronomy tower, either to gaze at the stars, or to simply enjoy the cool breeze of night. He felt mostly at peace - as much as a Slytherin was able, when he had to constantly watch his back against students from other houses. However, when he heard a strange duet of howling from the direction of the Forbidden forest, he could not help the shiver of unease that ran down his spine.
November 2, 1982
Sirius and Remus apparated back to Grimmauld Place in the morning, feeling both tired but also refreshed. However, upon entering the dining room, they were greeted by a tawny owl, hooting in irritation, with a letter bearing the wax seal of the familiar Longbottom crest, rather haphazardly applied. A sense of terrible foreboding left them feeling suddenly uneasy, and they glanced at one another before Sirius stepped towards the table, relieving the owl of its burden.
The owl bit his fingers, both because it had been kept waiting so long (evidently unable to track either Sirius or Remus in their transformed state), and because it felt entitled to a treat. Though the bite broke through his skin, Sirius disregarded the pain, while Remus went into the kitchen to find a bit of meat for the owl. When Remus returned a brief moment later, he was disturbed to see Sirius ghostly pale, and the letter trembling in his hand. Already, a feeling of guilt was pooling in Remus's heart, believing that if not for him, Sirius would have received the owl sooner. Who could say how long the vexed creature had been waiting for them?
"What is it?" Remus asked. Though he had a sense of what could be wrong, he needed the confirmation. Unable to speak, Sirius thrust the letter towards him.
Sirius, (it read, dispensing with all formalities)
Come immediately. We were expecting James and Lily to check-in last night but heard nothing from them. Alice has gone to look for them, and I am watching the children. We have notified the Order. Come pick the children up with all haste. I must go to Alice - she left alone.
Frank Longbottom
Though Alice was a more than competent auror, there was no doubt that if great danger existed, she could not handle it on her own; especially with rogue Death Eaters on the loose. Furthermore, there was no certainty about how long it would take the other Order members to receive the message and provide aid. Frank was clearly eager to go with his wife - as a team, the pair of them were near inseparable.
"Let's go," Sirius said shakily, already heading out the door. Dropping the letter back on the table, Remus followed.
They apparated to the Longbottom estate, the ancestral family home where Frank and Alice lived. Frank was already at the door, Harry by his side, and Primrose squirming uneasily in his arms. Frank quickly deposited the one-year-old into Sirius's arms, while Harry obediently trotted over.
"Neville?" Sirius asked, wondering whether he would be required to watch the Longbottom child as well.
"With his grandmother," Frank replied tersely. "I must go. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Barty Jr have been sighted." He apparated without awaiting Sirius's or Remus's response - evidently, he had been waiting for quite a while, and could not bring himself to stay any longer. As for Sirius and Remus, they were white as sheets, and sick with dread.
"Pa-fud?" Harry asked hesitantly in his babyish voice, reaching up to take his Godfather's hand. Shaken out of his shock by Harry's voice, Sirius reached down to scoop up his godson, though his arms were already full.
"I can take Rosie," said Remus, and Sirius handed her over to him.
"We should get back," said Sirius, trying to keep his voice normal so as to not frighten the children more than they already were. Even Rosie, who could not understand what was going on was whimpering nervously. Remus knew that 'getting back' referred to the Potter's home in Chudley, and not Remus's flat nor Grimmauld Place. If the Potters were to return, it would be the first place they would go, and where they would expect their children to be. However, because of the protection spells around the Potter residence, it would be impossible for them to apparate inside the house. Moreover, with muggles in the neighbourhood (and with it being morning now), they would have to apparate a bit of a ways off, and walk the rest.
With the children held tightly in their arms, they apparated to Chudley, to the familiar secluded location that was closest to the Potter's home. They walked with quick strides, trying to find the right balance between making haste, while not jarring and frightening the toddlers. However, as they turned the corner, they could hear a commotion the next street over, in Chudley Square.
Chudley was a small town, and it seemed unusual for there to be any sort of crowd on a Tuesday morning. It certainly didn't sound like anything positive, such as a promotion or celebration. If anything, the sounds which were a mix of low murmurs, and what seemed like someone saying "keep away, keep away now!" seemed to suggest an accident. Surely it couldn't be related to the James and Lily, could it? Sirius and Remus's eyes met, and there seemed to be a silent agreement between them. Chudley Square was by no means out of the way if their destination was the Potter house. And if it turned out that whatever was happening was related to James and Lily, then at least they would have saved themselves a bit of time.
They crossed the street towards Chudley Square, making their way through the small (but growing) crowd. Around them they could hear murmurs of "terrible, just terrible" or "what could have happened to them?" or "Is it catching?" or "such nice folk." None of the sentiments that were being expressed around them brought any reassurance. Sirius made his way to the scene first, where a muggle policeman was trying to keep the crowd at bay. His initial reaction was that of relief: James and Lily were sitting at the base of the obelisk that marked the town square, looking around themselves with confused expressions. However, the relief quickly died as he saw the words graffitied on the obelisk behind them: "The Dark Lord will Rise Again."
"Mummy?" Harry said, reaching his arms forward towards his parents, wiggling restlessly in Sirius's arms. Sirius strode over to the couple, clinging on to the small shred of hope that they were alright, but the closer he got, the greater the sense of wrongness. Neither Lily nor James looked towards Harry, Sirius or Remus, who had followed behind. They were mumbling nonsense, flinching suddenly at shadows, eyes frighteningly blank. Their clothes, though intact, were dirty, and both of them held their hands in a tense, claw-like manner, as though they were taut with pain.
The police officer was saying something to them, but neither Remus nor Sirius heard him. Without being aware of when it happened, Sirius had set Harry down, and Harry was scrambling into his mother's lap, desperately seeking reassurance.
"Mummy? Daddy? Mummy! It's me, Harry! Can't you see me? I'm not hiding. Mummy!" Harry pleaded. Though Sirius did not realize it at the moment, Harry was used to playing hide-and-seek with his parents, and used to the way they sometimes pretended not to see him. However, they didn't pretend for long - they always 'found' him in the end. So why weren't they looking at him now? "I'm not hiding mummy! I'm right here!" Harry's voice was breaking as tears of fear and confusion streamed from his eyes. He was clinging to Lily's muggle blouse, tugging at it frantically.
For a brief moment, Sirius was frozen on the spot, but he eventually broke from his stupor as he heard Harry's cries.
"Harry!" he called out. "Harry, it's okay. We'll get the healers. Come now." Sirius scooped up the child, hugging him with a frightful desperation. "The healers will help them. It'll be okay. Remus!" Sirius looked over at his friend, who understood his unspoken message to get help. Remus nodded, and handed Primrose, who was now crying, over to Sirius. With an equal mix of heavy guilt, and utter fear, Remus ran past the crowd. His last thought before he apparated away was: this is all my fault.
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1992
Harry had scooted over in his bed to make room for Rosie. Though they had, on some silent level, agreed that they were too old to have sleepovers in each other's beds, Harry appreciated Rosie's presence after the nightmare. His scar throbbed lightly, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the feelings of helplessness and terror. It was made worse by the fact that the nightmare was, in fact, all too real.
Both Lily and James were still alive, but they were kept in a permanent ward at St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Rosie and Harry visited them twice a year, usually on special holidays, but the visits were distressing for both of them. Lily and James never recognized either of them, and tended to mumble and twitch, and even sometimes scream. The screams were the worst. The sounds would echo down the halls, primal and chilling. The screams seem to express a mix of pain and anguished hopelessness. Neither Rosie nor Harry ever slept well after visiting their parents.
At least Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, and Bartemius Crouch Jr had been caught soon after they tortured the Potter's to madness, and were locked away tightly in Azkaban. Rosie hoped that they would rot in there forever. It had been Alice and Frank, as well as several other members of the Order who had caught them. The Longbottoms, alongside "Mad-Eye" Moody, were considered some of the best Aurors in all of Britain. Neville, who was still a family friend, was always proudly talking about their exploits. Though she did not say it out loud, some part of her envied Neville, and his loving relationship with his parents. Their influence seemed to bring out the best in him, and Neville was a wonderfully brave boy. At the same time, she knew that she would never trade Sirius for all the world, and even if he wasn't mum and dad, he was still Sirius - the guardian to Harry and herself - and she loved him and all his crazy antics.
Once Rosie was comfortably settled on her side of Harry's bed, she turned to face him.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get Sirius?" she hissed softly in parseltongue, the language of snakes, to Harry from under the covers.
"I'm sure," Harry replied. "Besides, he isn't exactly functional when he's tired." Rosie laughed softly.
"Yeah. But he'd still try."
"I know," Harry replied. They were silent for a moment, listening to the whistle of the wind outside the window. While Harry had been a natural Parselmouth, Primrose was not. She had a distant memory long ago of when they had been mere toddlers, playing together with their toys. Harry had a wooden snake toy that slithered around by itself. One had to be careful as they held it because the grooves in the wood could pinch their fingers, but it provided endless amusement whenever they tried to catch it.
They were playing together on the floor of the drawing room-turned-playroom of Grimmauld Place. On hands and knees the crawled around, looking for the wooden snake under the furniture, and Harry had hissed at it to come out. Harry of course thought he was speaking normally but it had been incomprehensible to Rosie. Yet, she was at the age where learning languages came naturally to her. Eventually, she was able to learn parselmouth, though it was quite possible that the empathic link between her and Harry enabled her to understand his meaning. However, later, when Sirius discovered they were speaking parselmouth, his reaction had been closer dismay rather than interest, though he had tried to hide it. They were only toddlers after all - hearing them hiss at each other was not as threatening as hearing a grown Dark Lord doing it. It was just strange and disturbing.
Rosie also remembered that as they got older, they had tried to teach parseltongue to Sirius. But words that sounded clear to them sounded like a blur of hisses to Sirius. He couldn't make sense of any of it. As Harry and Rosie got older, and started exploring the books that Sirius had inherited, they came to understand that parseltongue was considered a rather Dark talent to have. From their readings, they could find no record of a person learning parseltongue - only inheriting it. Even Harry sometimes doubted Rosie's memories when she claimed that Harry had taught her. ("You were just a baby - how can you remember learning a language at that age? You could have just understood it without realizing it," Harry had said.) However, Rosie maintained her insistence that Harry had taught her the language. When they realized that no one else could understand them, they started speaking parseltongue amongst themselves, though only when they were alone together. It was their own secret language, and it made plotting pranks against Sirius so much easier. Of course, that only meant that Sirius was instantly on alert if he ever caught them hissing.
"Harry - Are you nervous about school?" Primrose hissed, hesitantly.
"Not really. It is my second year after all. What about you? You're turning eleven in a week, so you'll be going to Hogwarts with me this year."
"Yeah, I am. Can't you tell me about the sorting? Please?" Rosie pleaded in her half-whisper. Harry chuckled tiredly.
"I don't want to ruin the surprise," he replied. "We should sleep though. Sirius is taking us to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get our school stuff. Finally." Rosie laughed.
"Hey, at least we're buying our school supplies before school starts, and not after. Knowing Padfoot, that's pretty much a miracle." Rosie grinned, as she considered her godfather's penchant for extreme procrastination. Her response elicited a small laugh from Harry.
"Sleep, Rosie. I know you have a million questions about Hogwarts, but you'll see it for yourself soon"
"Okay, okay. Good night."
"Night."
With these thoughts in mind, Rosie and Harry eventually fell back asleep, comforted by each other's presence.
The following day, Primrose and Harry were up by late morning, and after changing into muggle clothes, they headed down to the dining room. Kreacher, the house-elf was waiting and ready to serve them.
"Old Kreacher has prepared breakfast for Master and Mistress," the house-elf said to the pair of them, bowing.
"Thank you, Kreacher," Rosie replied, with a smile. Sirius had told Harry and Rosie that when he took ownership of Grimmauld Place, the house-elf had been near intolerable, with his constant slurs about mudbloods and blood-traitors. The house-elf moaned and lamented having to serve Sirius because he was "a nasty and ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart." However, over the years, Kreacher seemed to have mellowed out. Of everyone in the household, Kreacher seemed to liked Primrose best. This was because (according to Kreacher) Mistress Walburga liked Rosie's "pretty manners despite being a filthy half-breed."
As Rosie considered the situation, she did notice that she was more tolerant of Kreacher and Madam Walburga than either Harry (who mostly ignored them) or Sirius (who snapped insults.) Of course, she knew that their behaviour was deplorable and incredibly offensive, but one was a house-elf and one was a portrait. What harm could they really do? Besides, some of Madam Walburga's 'compliments' amused her.
"You may be a filthy half-breed befouling the house of my fathers, but at least you can act like a proper pureblood," Walburga had once said to Rosie, rather imperiously.
"Thank you, Madam Walburga, you are most kind," Primrose had replied with a curtsey. She could swear that Madam Walburga almost smiled that day.
"Is there anything else I can get for Mistress?" Kreacher was saying, breaking into Rosie's thoughts.
"Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you Kreacher," Rosie replied, smiling. She and Harry sat down across from one another at one end of the long dining table, eying their generous plates of food. As usual, Rosie had a hearty appetite, and was enjoying her lovely English breakfast, but Harry was picking at his food. He was already a skinny boy, and his nervous habit of barely eating did nothing to help. Through her empathic link, she could sense the undercurrent of anxiety flowing through him, stronger than usual because they would be out in public later in the day. She was used to Harry's anxiety, but it still hurt her heart to feel his discomfort.
Harry hated being constantly accosted by strangers wanting his autograph, or hoping for a handshake, or randomly patting him on the back (they never asked, which made it so much worse). Furthermore, after the Death Eater's had kidnapped him when he was six, being around strangers made him feel more apprehensive than ever. Sudden movements often made him flinch, as much as he tried to hide it. On top of that was the unsettling feeling of always being watched (and in fact, he was always being watched - he was famous after all.) In many ways, she was glad to be in the shadow of "The Boy Who Lived" but given a choice, she would have gladly borne the burden for him, so that he could be free.
Her thoughts were disrupted by the owl post, as a barn owl swooped over the table, and nearly dropped the Daily Prophet on her plate. She set the newspaper aside, and handed the owl five knuts, just as another owl swooped in.
"Oh!" she exclaimed excitedly as she saw the colourful publication. "It's the latest edition of The Quibbler!" Harry looked over at her and rolled his eyes, but his anxiety eased at the sight of Rosie's evident glee. Her hazel-green eyes scanned the headlines but the owl was demanding her attention. She paid the second owl seven knuts and it nudged her hand affectionately, recognizing a loyal subscriber when it saw one. Rosie gave the owl a scratch on the head, and fed it a piece of bacon before it flew off.
"I can't believe you read that stuff," he grumbled, but a smile quirked at his lips. Rosie ignored his comment.
"Umgubular Slashkilters! I've been waiting for this article for ages! They're only found on the Continent, you know." Rosie's food was all but forgotten as she opened the magazine, absorbed in the stories therein. "A picture! Amazing! Look, Harry!" She turned the open page towards him, pointing at the moving image of a blurry shadow in a fuzzy landscape.
"Uhh…."
"I know! Unbelieveable!" She had pulled the magazine back, reading more details of the article with rapt interest. By the time Harry and Rosie had finished their breakfast (Harry only managed half his plate), they could hear Sirius tromping tiredly down the stairs.
"Snuffles!" Rosie called out cheerfully to Sirius She tended to call him Snuffles, Padfoot or Sirius rather interchangeably. "You're up early! It's not even noon yet!" Sirius looked from Rosie to Harry through bleary eyes, his sleeping robes rumpled, and the sash loosely tied. His lustrous black hair was messy and unbrushed, falling across his eyes, but he nonetheless still looked as handsome as ever. She could understand how witches were always tripping over their robes when he walked by on the street. If only they knew what he was really like.
"The things I do for you pups," Sirius replied with an exaggerated sigh, but his lips quirked upwards soon after. He was referencing their trip to Diagon Alley of course. If it were up to Sirius, he'd be sleeping in until well past noon, and taking them shopping in the late afternoon, but Rosie wanted to go early to ensure there was enough time to find everything.
"Kreacher! Get me a coffee!" Sirius hollered towards the kitchen as he plopped himself down on a dining room chair at the head of the table, between Rosie and Harry. "It's too bloody early to go out without one." Kreacher appeared beside the table, and placed a mug of hot coffee in front of Sirius while Rosie and Harry shared a look, and smiled in amusement.
"I saw that!" Sirius called out, feigning an indignation.
"Drink your coffee, dear Padfoot," Rosie said, with mock sweetness. Sirius grimaced.
"You sound like Cissy. It's damned disturbing," Sirius muttered, referring to his haughty pureblood cousin, as he nursed his coffee.
"Language, Sirius," Rosie replied, with a well practiced mix of pretentiousness and disapproval. Seeing Sirius's horror, Harry and Rosie burst out laughing.
"Have mercy on him, Rosie," Harry smirked. "I don't think his brain is on yet."
"There, there, Padfoot," Rosie said, as she patted Sirius's hand, which rested on the table. "With your looks, you don't really need a brain anyway." Sirius groaned.
"When did you two end up becoming such brats! Where did I go wrong?" Sirius moaned, but the banter and coffee had woken him a bit more, and his mood was buoyant. As cheeky as they were, he loved the two of them.
"So, are we taking the motorbike today, Pups?" Sirius asked breaking the momentary silence, after he had had few more slow sips of coffee. Harry and Rosie exchanged a look.
"Are you sure you can drive this early in the morning?" Harry asked. They would be driving through muggle London after all, and entering Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron.
"Arrg!" Sirius exclaimed. "When did you two get so old and boring! Where's your sense of adventure!"
"We rather value our lives, Padfoot," Rosie replied primly. "And if we're old, what does that make you?"
Sirius puffed out his chest, and swept his hair from his face. "Dashing and Distinguished of course!"
"And modest too!" Harry added with a chuckle. "Can't deny that you are dashing though, Padfoot. We've seen the way the ladies and the blokes look at you."
"What would you two know about anything like that! You're too young, both of you." Sirius frowned as he considered the two children before him. He never brought his amours home with him. Well, that wasn't entirely true - there were one or two times when he introduced his dates to the pups. Sirius shuddered at the memory. It had not worked out well at all. Moments like those made him want to obliviate himself. But it was all in the past now!
"Shall we get going then?" he asked his two godchildren. They grinned and nodded.
"You may want to change first though," Harry added.
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Diagon Alley was packed. If not for the wooden signs proclaiming the names of the shops, Rosie would barely be able to tell where to go. She could feel Harry's barely controlled tension, which, mingled with her own nervousness was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. However, for Rosie, her nervousness was more like excitement, whereas Harry's nervousness was more like dread. There were many families out that day, undoubtedly doing last minute shopping for their children before the school term began.
In front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, a crowd of children were gathered, exclaiming over the newly released Nimbus Two Thousand-and-one. "It's even faster than the Nimbus Two Thousand!" she could hear one of the boy's exclaiming. Rosie smirked in amusement. Sirius had just bought the Nimbus Two Thousand-and-one for Harry's birthday, and it was fast indeed. It would be fair to say that Quidditch was one of the strongest bonding factors between Harry and Sirius. On the right, a chorus of hooting could be heard from Eeylops Owl Emporium. It was where Harry got Hedwig, just last year. From the corner of her eye, Rosie admired a beautiful eagle owl on display, but it was nothing compared to Hedwig.
She thought about where they would have to stop today: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions for her school robes; Potage's Cauldron Shop; Slug & Jigger's Apothecary; Flourish and Blotts, of course; and Ollivanders. Was there anything she was forgetting? She pulled out the parchment that listed the supplies she would need to buy, and gave it a quick glance. She already owned a pair of dragonhide gloves, as well as crystal phials and a set of brass scales. Ah, a telescope - she still needed that. As for Harry, all he needed were books, and most of them were written by someone named Gilderoy Lockhart.
As they pushed through the crowds, Rosie looked over at Harry, who was grimacing, and then at Sirius who was also grimacing.
"It seems we're not the only last minute shoppers," she commented with a pointed look at Sirius.
"As I always say, why do today what you can put off tomorrow?" Sirius replied cheekily. Rosie could barely refrain from rolling her eyes (Madam Walburga would say rolling one's eyes is uncouth - and why was she even thinking about Madam Walburga at a time like this?) Rosie shook her head. She looked over at her brother, who was clenching his jaw. If he were a cat, his hair would have been standing on end. Rosie took his hand, and he glanced over at her, smiling gratefully for the distraction.
"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked with concern as she squeezed his hand. He gave a quick nodded in response, before once again scanning the crowd, always vigilant for threats. It made him look so much older than twelve. But considering what he had gone through in his life, it was understandable that Harry would be extremely cautious.
"Where to first, pup?" Sirius asked her. Before she could reply, a portly man in dark-pumpkin coloured robes wormed his way in front of them.
"The Boy Who Lived!" the man exclaimed, jovially. "How about an autograph, for my-" The portly man's attention was pulled away from Harry by Sirius who stepped towards him threateningly. A growl escaped his lips. The portly man looked from Harry, to Sirius, and then Rosie, whose hazel-green eyes were as cold as midwinter.
"So, erm, ah- I'll just be on my way then," the portly man said nervously, backing away from them before rushing off.
"Bloody tosser," Sirius muttered, shaking his head. Rosie couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for Sirius. While Sirius never truly understood Harry's constant anxiety (being the type of person who let trouble roll off his back like drops of water), at least Sirius was always ready to defend Harry. She also thought it was rather amusing that after all these many years of being raised by Sirius, neither Harry nor she had ever picked up Sirius's rather colourful language. Rosie gave Harry's hand another squeeze, and the stormy expression on his face dissipated.
"Do you two want to wait at Quality Quidditch Supplies while I buy my robes and cauldron, and then stop by the apothecary? All you need this year is books, right Harry? I can meet you at Flourish and Blotts later." Rosie said to Sirius and Harry.
"You're too independent by far, Pup. At least make a man feel needed," Sirius huffed.
"Oh Snuffles! Of course you're needed! Afterall, we do need someone to practice charms on!" Rosie replied with a grin, as she glanced at his black hair, which she and Harry liked to turn pink when Sirius wasn't looking. Sirius gave a mock scowl.
"Thank Merlin you're off to Hogwarts, brat! You can practice charms on something other than me." Rosie stuck her tongue out at Sirius. Though she often acted older than her almost-eleven years, in that moment, she looked like the child that she was. Sirius was filled with a sudden protective warmth for his two charges.
"Well, Harry?" Rosie asked, with a tilt of her head.
"I'll come with you," Harry replied. He was still looking rather pale from anxiety, but the banter between Sirius and Rosie drew a small smile from him.
"Madam Malkin's then?" Rosie asked. Harry nodded, and Sirius sighed with exasperation.
"You can always wait at Quality Quidditch, you know, Padfoot." Rosie gave him a pointed look.
"I'm coming with you. Never let it be said that Sirius Black fails to watch over his godchildren!" Despite his proclamation, it still felt as though Harry and Rosie were dragging Sirius through a terrible ordeal. He cared little for shopping, and he cared for it less when it was someone else doing it.
The squat, and smiling Madam Malkin was wearing robes of burgundy trimmed with burnt orange. Her shop was filled with fabrics of all types and colours, displayed prettily on dark wooden shelves in neatly folded stacks. It was almost like looking at an artist's colour palette. Madam Malkin led Primrose up to a short footstool to stand on so that she could take Rosie's measurements for her school robes. As Rosie was being measured, she looked over at Sirius, who had his arms crossed and an expression of obvious impatience on his face. Suddenly, the door to Madam Malkin's shop opened, and an attractive blonde-haired witch entered. Sirius immediately straightened his posture, and put on his 'mysterious, handsome, and charming' face. Harry, who happened to look over at Sirius as soon as the pretty witch entered rolled his eyes, and shared a glance with Rosie, who giggled. Harry gave Rosie a look that said "should I do it?" and Rosie nodded.
After Madam Malkin ascertained that the blonde-witch was only browsing the fabrics for a new dress robe, she went back to helping Rosie. Sirius then swooped in, with his overwhelming charm, and roguish smile that held just a hint of danger. The blonde witch blushed, and it was obvious to Harry and Rosie (who had seen this sight many times before), that the witch was completely bedazzled by the attentions of the aristocratic-looking man. The blond had a rather grating giggle, and she kept leaning in towards Sirius, touching his arm with playful flirtatiousness. The witch was putty in Sirius's hands, and he looked ready to go in for the kill (Rosie couldn't help but use the predatory metaphor to describe Sirius's behaviour.) Rosie then glanced over at Harry, with a look that said "now." Harry grinned wickedly and nodded. Through the empathic link, she could sense that almost all of Harry's anxiety was gone, and replaced with playful anticipation.
Harry sidled up to Sirius and the blonde witch.
"Wow, Sirius," Harry exclaimed as he looked up at the witch. "She's really pretty!" The blond blushed with obvious delight, but Sirius was looking at Harry with nervous suspicion.
"Is she going to be our new mum?" Harry asked, wearing an innocent expression on his face. The witch paled, looking from Harry to Sirius, and then back at Harry. Harry looked up at the witch and put on his 'friendly' face.
"You can play with my sister, and help her do her hair," Harry said sweetly to the blonde, who then looked from Harry to Rosie, and back at Harry, still as pale as ever.
"Erm - I think I hear my friend calling me," the witch squeaked nervously, backing away, and then dashing out the door. Harry's innocent expression disappeared as he broke out in laughter. Even Rosie was giggling at Sirius's affronted expression. Fortunately, Madam Malkin was finished with Rosie's measurements, so her laughter didn't result in being stabbed with multiple pins.
"All done, dear," Madam Malkin was saying, smiling indulgently at the laughing children.
The next stop was Potage's cauldron shop. The Black residence already had several cauldrons that Rosie and Harry had used, but she wanted a new cauldron for school. For the most part, Rosie and Harry had only ever tried making relatively simple potions. Considering the extensive collection of books that Sirius had inherited from his family (full of all sorts of interesting Dark Magic), it was irresistible for Harry and Rosie to try their hand at some of the recipes. They only ever created an explosion once, and it was a fairly small one. It did leave a permanent hole in the attic floor though (where Harry and Rosie had set up their make-shift lab). The apothecary was next, and then a quick stop into Sugarplum's Sweet Shop for a little indulgence. Pink Coconut ice and toffee eclairs were her favourites, but Harry preferred the chocolate frogs, and sugar quills. Sirius decided to loaded up on chocolate frogs. He had abandoned his frog project almost a decade ago, and now that both pups were headed off to school seemed like the right time to give it another go.
Following that was Flourish and Blotts. Flourish and Blotts was one of Primrose's favourite stores on Diagon Alley, and Harry seemed to feel the same way as well. With his anxious personality, books became one of Harry's best friends, and Rosie and Harry both developed a passion for learning. For Harry, books provided a way for him to explore the world in a relatively safe setting, while for Rosie, books fed her desire for more knowledge and understanding. Sirius's inherited collection of books provided hours and hours of entertainment as well, but many of his books were very dark and dangerous. Both Rosie and Harry were aware of an awful lot of curses and hexes, even if they didn't necessarily know how to cast them. That doesn't mean they never tried, of course (after stealing Sirius's wand - and never practicing on each other, obviously.) Though they never gave it much thought at the time, it was rather telling of the bond between Sirius, Harry and Rosie that Sirius's wand even worked for them at all.
The welcome sight of floor to ceiling bookshelves greeted Rosie and Harry. Books of every size, shape, and type met their eyes, filled with wonderful mysterious to be explored. The brightly lit store was fairly busy, and it was just lucky for them that they had not been there a week and a half prior, else they would have had to deal with Gilderoy Lockhart's book signing. The crowd then was even worse than it was today. Harry and Rosie decided to split up in search of the books they needed. They were both familiar with the layout of the bookstore, and were certain that they would have no difficulty finding the books on their supply list. In fact, some of the books on the list were ones that Rosie had already read, such as Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble. Magical theory was one of her favourite topics, and she had a veritable mountain of books on the subject.
Rosie wandered through the aisles, looking for A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Finding the section she was looking for, she looked over the various titles: Applications of the Formula of Transfiguration, Modern Theories on Variable Z, Conjuration: A Detailed Guide, Animagus: Secrets, Shortcuts and Techniques (that sounded intriguing - Rosie decided to add it to her pile of books that she intended to buy), Vanishment, Intermediate Transfiguration, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration - Ah, there it was. As she reached for the book, her hand collided with the boy next to her. He had dark blond hair that swept past his ears, tanned skin, and cool blue eyes. He looked startled at the contact, quickly withdrawing his hand and stepping back. Despite his nervous gesture, he did not strike her as being fearful - rather, he seemed guarded, like a predatory creature on unfamiliar territory.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "Were you looking for A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration too?"
"Erm - yes." His reply was awkward, as though he wasn't accustomed to speaking to people. He glanced at her face, then at the book, and then back at her face. Her curious expression seemed to unnerve him, and he looked back at the book, keeping his gaze fixed there.
"Are you going to Hogwarts too?" She asked. He darted a glance at her face, then looked away, back at the books.
"Yes."
"Oh, then we'll be in the same year! I don't know anyone who will be in the same year as me." There was a moment of awkward silence, as Rosie searched her mind for a way to fill the space. "My name's Primrose. What's yours?"
He paused for a moment, as though debating whether to tell her. "Romulus."
"Delighted to meet you, Romulus," said Rosie, good manners kicking into action.
"Ah - indeed." Romulus seemed to be searching for the appropriate words for the situation. "The pleasure is mine." Rosie broke out into a wide smile. Romulus's voice was a soft tenor, slightly deeper that most boys of eleven. His reactions seemed rather curious, but it wasn't off putting. In a way, he reminded her of Harry. He seemed familiar, though she was certain she had never met him before. Rosie's smile seemed to startle him, as though no one had ever smiled at him before. His expression was almost incredulous, which made Rosie laugh. He suddenly became very guarded, his blue eyes cold. Seeing the rapid change in his expression, Rosie felt she had to explain.
"I wasn't laughing at you - I'm sorry - it's just - your reaction. You act like no one has ever smiled at you before." Rosie smiled nervously at him. His gaze was assessing, and it was odd that he could meet her eyes now, when he couldn't before. The tension suddenly seemed to disappear, and he smiled weakly.
"I'm not used to - people," Romulus said. Rosie nodded.
"I mostly just talk to Harry - that's my brother, and Sirius - My godfather. I hope-" she paused. "I hope it won't be too difficult to make friends at Hogwarts." It felt strange, revealing her vulnerabilities to a stranger, but something about him made her want to reassure him that she could understand his feelings.
"I'm not there to make friends," he replied, rather bluntly, but in an oddly impersonal matter, as though he were just stating a fact (as opposed to rebuffing her).
"What are you going for then?" she asked, curious. He seemed to contemplate her question, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I don't know."
Flourish and Blotts was still rather crowded, and at that moment, a man with long blond hair, and a bearing that was the very essence of "pure-blood" bumped into Romulus. The man gripped his walking stick tightly, and Rosie's eyes were drawn to the silver-snake head that decorated the top of it.
The stately man looked down at Romulus and sneered.
"I didn't know Flourish and Blotts were serving mongrols now," he said with a haughty sort of mockery. Romulus paled, and his body language exuded tension. Rosie thought she heard a snarl from him, but without a backwards glance at Rosie, Romulus stalked off. The blond man smirked, and glanced her over as through appraising her worth, before continuing on his business. The entire experience left her with a sick feeling in her gut. She grabbed her book, and went in search for Harry.
Harry had already found all his books, and was reading through one of them when Rosie walked up to him. He looked up and smiled when he saw her.
"These books don't seem to be very good," he said, tilting his head towards the pile on the floor.
"Whoever this Lockhart is, his books seem more like fantastical tosh, than useful information. I don't know how we're supposed to learn anything from this." Rosie looked over at the books, and frowned sympathetically.
"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked. "Sirius is in the charms section. Probably looking for something to help him with his latest project." Rosie nodded. They found Sirius, and paid for all their purchases. The last stop would be Ollivanders.
"Excited, pup?" Sirius asked Rosie.
"Er- yes?" she replied. It wouldn't be her first time using a wand - Harry and Rosie had stolen Sirius's wand and used it more times than she could count. But it would be nice to have a wand of her own.
"Ollivander is really - odd," said Harry, trying to find the right words to describe his experience.
"How so?" Rosie asked. Harry scrunched up his face.
"You'll see." It sounded rather ominous.
They walked up to the narrow shop, and Rosie looked up at the peeling gold letters over the door. Since 382 B.C, the sign said.
"Hm. That's almost as old Herpo the Foul." Rosie commented. Harry looked up at the sign and smirked.
"Did you read that in one of the Black's books?" He asked. There was certainly no shortage of books on the Dark Arts in their home. Rosie grinned and nodded.
"He's the first wizard to have successfully created a Horcrux. He could very well still be alive today." Rosie wondered what he would look like - a shriveled old prune, perhaps? Wizen like a shrunken head? Harry shuddered at her words.
"I think I remember reading about that. He hatched a Basilisk, didn't he?" Rosie nodded.
"I hope we never meet him," Harry added, as their group entered the store. Before Rosie could say anymore, they were greeted by Ollivander himself.
"Ah, Harry Potter! Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Supple. How is the wand treating you? And this must be Primrose Potter."
The search for Rosie's wand was nowhere near as arduous as Harry's experience had been. In the end, she ended up with a mahogany and phoenix feather wand, pliable, and ten-and-a-half-inches. "Rather like your father," Ollivander had said. "An excellent wand for transfiguration." Had he been referring to her father, herself, or both?
By the end of the day, Rosie was thinking about suggesting ice-cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, but upon seeing Sirius's rather harried expression, she decided to keep her mouth shut. It had been a long day for all of them.
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A/N: So, if you're wondering why I made the Full Moon on Nov 1st 1982 instead of on Hallowe'en, it's because I checked the Full Moons on a Lunar Calendar, and the Full Moon was on the 1st.
Also, in this AU, Sirius is Bi, but I don't go into it in too much detail. If you don't like it, don't read.
Reviews and Constructive Criticism welcome. This is my first fan fiction ever :)
I should add that since this is my first fanfiction, there are some issues with this story. I might eventually do a rewrite to fix the problems.
