Chapter 1 – The Potters

Sirius had walked up the Potters' driveway more times than he could count over the years. Some of his happiest memories were here, during the few short summer weeks when he'd managed to escape his parents' house; he had run up to the front door when he was soaked after losing his footing on the riverbank, or grinning ear to ear after a successful prank.

Once, Sirius had been rushing up the path with the other Marauders trailing behind, exhausted and wet from the sudden summer storm they'd been caught in, when James had slipped, lost his balance and gone down hard on the uneven concrete. His mother had appeared at the door within seconds as the others, laughing, pulled him up; and Sirius had learnt very quickly that bruises from clumsy teenagers weren't the only things that James' parents were good at fixing. They fixed his broom once, in the summer before second year, when he barely knew them and was still too young to appreciate it properly. Last summer, when James had (accidentally, of course) knocked him out of a tree, Mrs. Potter had bandaged him up without a word of complaint. She didn't say it was his fault for being careless. At Grimmauld Place, everything always seemed to be his fault.

Sirius had never walked up the front path like this, when he shouldn't be there at all. He'd always given at least a day's notice, asking for permission that he knew would be granted without question. But this was different; this wasn't him asking to stay for a few weeks until school started back up. This was him lugging a heavy chest containing everything he now owned, its sides bulging comically despite how many of his possessions he'd had to sacrifice and leave behind. He was more tired than he'd ever felt in his life, and only a small part of his bone-deep exhaustion was a result of the half hour walk from where he'd got off the bus. He was still wearing dress robes with a ridiculous lace collar from the 'family dinner', as though he'd dressed up specially to celebrate his estrangement. Even now, hours later, he shook with anger when he remembered the looks on the faces of his mother and cousins.

He stopped on the doorstep and let go of his trunk, allowing it to fall to the ground with such a racket that someone surely must have heard it. Despite it being almost eleven, there were, thankfully, still lights on downstairs – Sirius didn't much fancy sleeping in the porch.

He raised his hand to knock, trying to push down his irrational panic that James' family wouldn't want him either, but just as he was about to release the knocker, the door flew open. James stood on the other side of it, surrounded by bright light that hurt Sirius' eyes after his trek down the barren, unlit country roads. He was obviously ready for bed, wearing shorts and an old t-shirt with a teddy bear on it.

"I… hello," was all Sirius said, but James knew. Sirius could tell by his expression. He'd already grabbed Sirius' arm, and before he could protest, he was pulled into the warm house, the door was closed behind him, his trunk was at the bottom of the stairs, and James was giving him one of his looks. Not the good kind either, not the kind that said 'I've got a brilliant idea!', but the sort of look that was full of nauseating concern and the silent promise that he would fix everything. This time, though, Sirius wasn't sure that things could be fixed.

Sirius sighed, wanting nothing more than to go to bed and forget everything that had happened in the past few hours; but he knew he owed the Potters an explanation, so he nodded at James in a way that was supposed to be reassuring and let himself be led into the living room.

James was worried. Sirius was usually filled with an energy that made it impossible for him to sit still, but when he gestured for Sirius to take a seat, he sank into the armchair like he would never move again. The casual arrogance that was normally an intrinsic part of his every movement was now absent; his shoulders slumped and he looked weighed down, like his limbs had turned to lead. His eyes were still bright as least, though so full of fury that James was half-convinced his stare would bore a hole in the carpet.

He didn't know how or why it had happened, but he had the definite feeling that Sirius had finally snapped and walked out on his family for good. Otherwise he wouldn't have turned up like this – not this late at night, with his school trunk so full it looked like it would burst open at any moment and an expression on his face that James last remembered seeing at the start-of-term feast two years ago, when Regulus had been sorted into Slytherin.

In the formal clothes he was wearing, Sirius looked out of place in James' living room, sitting in a worn armchair with stains on one arm where James' dad always rested his coffee mug and frequently knocked it over. But there was a tear in his shirt and mud splattered up the legs of his trousers; James wondered how difficult it had been for Sirius to get here, and was sorry that he'd had to make the journey alone.

His parents sat down on the sofa together, watching Sirius with matching expressions of concern. James stayed standing, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the teddy bear on his t-shirt, and cleared his throat.

"Sirius, what happened?" There was probably a less blunt way of asking, but James didn't exactly excel at subtlety, and straightforward questions were normally the best way to get through to Sirius.

Dragging his gaze away from the floor, Sirius looked at James with a strangely unguarded expression. He pushed his fingers through his tangled hair, which looked almost as much of a mess as James' always did, and opened his mouth to speak. He couldn't seem to decide what he wanted to say for a second, until two resolute words spilled out: "I left."

James raised his eyebrows and Sirius sighed, sitting up a little straighter. "They were going on about Andromeda again." His voice was low and weary, but each word had a hard edge to it. "My parents have these big family dinners every so often to keep ties with all their pureblood relatives. Bellatrix and Rodolphus were there, and Narcissa brought her new bastard of a husband."

He silenced himself, biting down hard on his lip, and James saw the worried glance he shot towards his parents. They just smiled at him reassuringly. "Go on," Mrs. Potter said kindly. "You can tell us."

"They were talking about her little girl as if she's a monster, as though being half-blood is the worst thing you could be. It's not like she's ever done anything to them – she's a three year old! Just because Dromeda isn't going to spawn little pureblood supremacists like the rest of the family. I told them that I don't blame her, that I'd rather marry a muggle than stand another moment in that house. That their bloody precious son is going to end up in prison by the time he's 20, if he's not dead." He paused, letting out a bitter laugh and looking up at James in utter disgust. "I think they were hoping I'd change my mind one day. They said I should follow Reg's example, and when I told them I'd rather die than be a part of their little cult, well, Bellatrix chucked her glass at me and my mum went absolutely mad, said I should just go, burnt me off the tapestry and everything." He shrugged, balling his shaking hands into fists. "So that's that."

James could imagine it perfectly: the entire Black family turning on Sirius, their shouting filling the huge house as the dinner lay forgotten, Sirius storming upstairs and throwing everything within reach into his trunk before leaving, with his mother screaming at him to never come back. James unfolded his arms and went over to Sirius, putting his hand on his shoulder. They looked at each other for a long moment, before James turned a pleading eye to his parents.

"You know you're always welcome here, Sirius," James' dad said immediately. "You can stay here for as long as you need to."

"This house is your home as much as it is ours," his mum added, smiling.

James glanced down at Sirius and grinned at the relief in his expression. "You didn't really think we'd kick you out onto the street, did you?"

A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Sirius shook his head. "Know you're always pining for me when I'm not here, anyway," he said quietly.

James' dad chuckled, patting Sirius' arm gently as he stood up and went back out into the hallway.

"You know Sirius," he called, "why don't I put your trunk in the spare room? It's no use you sleeping on James' camp bed if you're going to be here for the long haul."

"I think that's a great idea," his mum agreed, looking fondly at Sirius. "That room needs sprucing up anyway. Nothing like a teenage boy to bring a bit of life to the place."

Sirius nodded silently, unsure how to respond to the sudden kindness. He always forgot how much he enjoyed the company of James' family over the holidays, how they were the reverse of his own parents.

They headed upstairs a quarter of an hour later, after James' mum had taken away his dirty clothes and had offered him food and drink. He knew their house so well already – knew which part of the top step creaked horribly if he stepped on it, and how to slip through James' door without knocking himself on the cabinet that was always an inch or so out of place. In some ways he knew it better than he'd ever known his parents' house, with its dark corridors and endless rooms that Sirius still felt lost in sometimes.

James led Sirius into his new room and collapsed immediately onto the bed, pulling Sirius down with him.

"You looked like a right berk in that get up, by the way," he joked, elbowing Sirius in the side.

"Oh, cheers mate." James was obviously trying to be normal, and Sirius was grateful. "Sympathetic as always I see, no idea why Evans won't give you the time of day when you're just so charming."

"Don't remind me," James said, sighing dramatically with his hand thrown over his forehead. "She must be immune to my dazzling personality, otherwise she'd find me irresistible.

Sirius grinned. "Always a pleasure to listen to you moan, Prongs."

"Have to distract you from your tragic life somehow, don't I?" James replied, smirking.

"Keep telling yourself that," Sirius murmured. He was so tired that James' words had almost stopped making sense – not that he was one for making much sense in general. But it was easy to give into his exhaustion here, in the warm room with its light cream wallpaper and cozy blankets around him.

Lying on the bed next to his best friend, he smiled and let his eyes drift closed, realising he felt more at home than he had all summer.