A/N: I wrote this part quickly and carelessly just so I could get to the real plot. And Sirius is in his "I'm a moody bitch mode." He's not gonna be like that throughout the rest of the story. Well, mostly. I can't get my dividers to show so the first word of each section is capitalzed.
Magic, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging
Chapter One- Letters, Shops, and Train Rides
THE Blacks of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place were proud to say that they were perfectly purebloods, thank you very much. They could trace their lineage all the way back to the oldest wizards to ever walk the earth. Ever since Hogwarts had been created their brood had been in Slytherin.
Altair Black was a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic and his wife, Amalia, was the daughter of the ex-Minister of Magic and a supporter of the anti-Muggle-borns (or Mudbloods, as she referred to them) movement. Their house was big and their fortune was great. Their live was perfect down to the last detail.
Until a bouncing bundle of joy by the name of Sirius entered their lives.
July 9, 1980
-HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZADRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Black,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of necessary books and equipment.
Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress-
Sirius Altair Black pursed his lips thoughtfully as he read the letter. Part of him really wanted to go and leave behind this hellhole he was supposed to call a home, but part of him was convinced it'd be no better, or, perhaps, worse. After all the Black family was always in Slytherin with the rest of the bigheaded farts. No matter what. Sirius highly doubted that he was an exception.
"Good. You got your letter. I was beginning to wonder if you were a squib." Sirius jumped. He hadn't heard his mother enter. He turned to face her.
"You know I'm not a squib, Mum. How else would I have shrunken the bloody shirt you were trying to force me into, hm?" he asked.
Amalia scowled. Standing six foot one, she was thirty-five, but you could never tell it by looking at her. She'd scowled and frowned at disapproving things so much that the grooves engraved around her eyes and mouth were deeper than the average eighty-year-old. Her long black hair, which went past her none existent arse, had already turned halfway grey and her eyes had all but lost their color. In short, she was not a pretty sight.
"Do not speak to me that way," she said. "Or else you may find that your handsome face is no longer handsome." And with that, she left.
Sirius knew better than to think that his mother had paid him a compliment. To insult Sirius' looks was to insult his father's looks. Sirius was a carbon copy of Altair, save for his piercing blue eyes, which hadn't been seen in the family for generations.
He sighed and turned to the discarded envelope and pulled out the supply list. After a brief glance Sirius knew that he would have no problem with the costs. He just didn't want to go with his parents. If only his mother didn't guard the floo powder.
JULY 11, 1980
The black haired boy peered around the corner. He could hear his mother and father talking to his uncle and cousins. He hoped that they would be too occupied to notice his absence. For two days he had been planning this and he couldn't afford to mess up, or else the consequences dire. Sirius shuddered to think about the hexes his father had up his sleeve. Shoving all unpleasant thoughts aside, he tiptoed up to his parents' room.
Just as he was about to turn the knob, he heard a little voice say: "You're not supposed to go in there."
Sirius froze for a moment before rolling his eyes. "I know that Regulus. Why would I want to?"
The eight year old stared up at his big brother. "So you could get to something Mum doesn't want you to. Don't lie, Sirius. You've done it before."
Sirius growled. "Have not!"
"Have too," Regulus said calmly. "And you're going to do it again now." He grinned triumphantly at the look on Sirius' face. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"What are you gonna do about it, smart-ass?" Sirius asked, hoping to find a way out.
"I'm gonna tell Mum," Regulus replied, "and I'm going right now." With that he took off down the hallway.
Sirius swore under his breath and bolted into his parents' room. What Regulus said had been true, so Sirius had no trouble grabbing a fistful of floo powder and throwing himself and it into the fireplace while shouting "Diagon Alley!"
A few moments later Sirius found himself flat on his back staring up into huge shocked amber eyes. After a few more moments of just staring the too- skinny boy who belonged to those eyes managed to un-shock himself and run off.
Sirius stood and shook his head in wonder. People these days. Allowing no more distractions, he whipped out the school supply list.
"All right . . . robes. I'll need to go to Madam Malkin's for that. Flourish and Blotts for books, Apothecary for potions ingredients . . ." And he walked down the street talking to himself.
SEPTEMBER 1,1980
Sirius grumpily pushed his trolley through the barrier at Kings Cross. His body still ached from the beating that his father had given him when he'd been found and his ears still rang from his mother's screaming.
He moodily threw his trunk into the rear-most compartment and slouched down on his seat, glaring at the opposite wall. He wished he could have gotten his hands on his moronic twit of a brother who was, right now, probably being congratulated by his bloody mother and father again for what a good job he had done on catching Sirius and how proud they were of him. Not to mention that bloody house elf was singing Regulus' praises for pleasing 'the master and mistress.' The black haired boy was glad he wasn't going to be seeing them for a long while.
A slight coughing interrupted Sirius' musings. Looking up he noticed the same amber eyes he's found himself staring into when he'd gotten to Diagon Alley.
"H-hello," the boy stuttered, smiling awkwardly. "Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."
Sirius shrugged in response and turned to look out the window, hoping the other boy would take the hint. He did. They sat in silence until the train started moving when the skinny brunette decided to speak up.
"I'm Remus Lupin." Sirius looked over at the boy with a frown. This Remus had longish brown hair with steely grey streaks in some places. His large amber colored eyes seemed to be out of place on his tiny frame. He had no meat on his bones and by the nervous look he was giving Sirius he wasn't exactly experienced socially. Sirius decided to play nice.
"Sirius Black." Sirius almost laughed by the brilliant smile that came to Remus' lips at his reply.
Remus, who was new to this whole talking thing, tried another sentence. "What year are you in?"
"First."
Remus' eyes brightened. "Me too." With that he seemed to run out of ideas and pulled out a book. Sirius sighed and pressed his forehead on the window, exposing a rather nasty cut on the lower part of his neck.
"Do you want me to heal that?" Remus asked. Sirius bristled and didn't answer. He didn't need anyone else's help. "Fine," the other boy whispered.
A/N: Ending it there. Yeah, I cut it short. I'm tired and I wanna get it done before I go to sleep.
Magic, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging
Chapter One- Letters, Shops, and Train Rides
THE Blacks of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place were proud to say that they were perfectly purebloods, thank you very much. They could trace their lineage all the way back to the oldest wizards to ever walk the earth. Ever since Hogwarts had been created their brood had been in Slytherin.
Altair Black was a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic and his wife, Amalia, was the daughter of the ex-Minister of Magic and a supporter of the anti-Muggle-borns (or Mudbloods, as she referred to them) movement. Their house was big and their fortune was great. Their live was perfect down to the last detail.
Until a bouncing bundle of joy by the name of Sirius entered their lives.
July 9, 1980
-HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZADRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Black,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of necessary books and equipment.
Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress-
Sirius Altair Black pursed his lips thoughtfully as he read the letter. Part of him really wanted to go and leave behind this hellhole he was supposed to call a home, but part of him was convinced it'd be no better, or, perhaps, worse. After all the Black family was always in Slytherin with the rest of the bigheaded farts. No matter what. Sirius highly doubted that he was an exception.
"Good. You got your letter. I was beginning to wonder if you were a squib." Sirius jumped. He hadn't heard his mother enter. He turned to face her.
"You know I'm not a squib, Mum. How else would I have shrunken the bloody shirt you were trying to force me into, hm?" he asked.
Amalia scowled. Standing six foot one, she was thirty-five, but you could never tell it by looking at her. She'd scowled and frowned at disapproving things so much that the grooves engraved around her eyes and mouth were deeper than the average eighty-year-old. Her long black hair, which went past her none existent arse, had already turned halfway grey and her eyes had all but lost their color. In short, she was not a pretty sight.
"Do not speak to me that way," she said. "Or else you may find that your handsome face is no longer handsome." And with that, she left.
Sirius knew better than to think that his mother had paid him a compliment. To insult Sirius' looks was to insult his father's looks. Sirius was a carbon copy of Altair, save for his piercing blue eyes, which hadn't been seen in the family for generations.
He sighed and turned to the discarded envelope and pulled out the supply list. After a brief glance Sirius knew that he would have no problem with the costs. He just didn't want to go with his parents. If only his mother didn't guard the floo powder.
JULY 11, 1980
The black haired boy peered around the corner. He could hear his mother and father talking to his uncle and cousins. He hoped that they would be too occupied to notice his absence. For two days he had been planning this and he couldn't afford to mess up, or else the consequences dire. Sirius shuddered to think about the hexes his father had up his sleeve. Shoving all unpleasant thoughts aside, he tiptoed up to his parents' room.
Just as he was about to turn the knob, he heard a little voice say: "You're not supposed to go in there."
Sirius froze for a moment before rolling his eyes. "I know that Regulus. Why would I want to?"
The eight year old stared up at his big brother. "So you could get to something Mum doesn't want you to. Don't lie, Sirius. You've done it before."
Sirius growled. "Have not!"
"Have too," Regulus said calmly. "And you're going to do it again now." He grinned triumphantly at the look on Sirius' face. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"What are you gonna do about it, smart-ass?" Sirius asked, hoping to find a way out.
"I'm gonna tell Mum," Regulus replied, "and I'm going right now." With that he took off down the hallway.
Sirius swore under his breath and bolted into his parents' room. What Regulus said had been true, so Sirius had no trouble grabbing a fistful of floo powder and throwing himself and it into the fireplace while shouting "Diagon Alley!"
A few moments later Sirius found himself flat on his back staring up into huge shocked amber eyes. After a few more moments of just staring the too- skinny boy who belonged to those eyes managed to un-shock himself and run off.
Sirius stood and shook his head in wonder. People these days. Allowing no more distractions, he whipped out the school supply list.
"All right . . . robes. I'll need to go to Madam Malkin's for that. Flourish and Blotts for books, Apothecary for potions ingredients . . ." And he walked down the street talking to himself.
SEPTEMBER 1,1980
Sirius grumpily pushed his trolley through the barrier at Kings Cross. His body still ached from the beating that his father had given him when he'd been found and his ears still rang from his mother's screaming.
He moodily threw his trunk into the rear-most compartment and slouched down on his seat, glaring at the opposite wall. He wished he could have gotten his hands on his moronic twit of a brother who was, right now, probably being congratulated by his bloody mother and father again for what a good job he had done on catching Sirius and how proud they were of him. Not to mention that bloody house elf was singing Regulus' praises for pleasing 'the master and mistress.' The black haired boy was glad he wasn't going to be seeing them for a long while.
A slight coughing interrupted Sirius' musings. Looking up he noticed the same amber eyes he's found himself staring into when he'd gotten to Diagon Alley.
"H-hello," the boy stuttered, smiling awkwardly. "Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."
Sirius shrugged in response and turned to look out the window, hoping the other boy would take the hint. He did. They sat in silence until the train started moving when the skinny brunette decided to speak up.
"I'm Remus Lupin." Sirius looked over at the boy with a frown. This Remus had longish brown hair with steely grey streaks in some places. His large amber colored eyes seemed to be out of place on his tiny frame. He had no meat on his bones and by the nervous look he was giving Sirius he wasn't exactly experienced socially. Sirius decided to play nice.
"Sirius Black." Sirius almost laughed by the brilliant smile that came to Remus' lips at his reply.
Remus, who was new to this whole talking thing, tried another sentence. "What year are you in?"
"First."
Remus' eyes brightened. "Me too." With that he seemed to run out of ideas and pulled out a book. Sirius sighed and pressed his forehead on the window, exposing a rather nasty cut on the lower part of his neck.
"Do you want me to heal that?" Remus asked. Sirius bristled and didn't answer. He didn't need anyone else's help. "Fine," the other boy whispered.
A/N: Ending it there. Yeah, I cut it short. I'm tired and I wanna get it done before I go to sleep.