CHAPTER ONE: AND IT BEGAN
Never was there much commotion outside number 12, Grimmauld Place: It was located in a strictly Muggle neighborhood and concealed by Father's protective charms to such an extent that even the neighbors knew not it existed. It was for precisely this reason why Father had been so taken aback to find the little Muggle boy staring up the Black front steps as they departed for King's Cross.
"What you staring at?" he snarled as the boy—younger even than Regulus—stared agape at the front door that had appeared seemingly from nowhere. Father glared hard at him, a hand fast round Mother's arm. "Who are you, boy?"
"Peter?" the boy mumbled, wide blue eyes moving rapidly from Father to Mother to Sirius.
"What do you know of magic, Peter?" asked Father.
"Do you mean…like Narnia?"
"It's a Mudblood," hissed Mother, curling into Father, "Must be."
"Yes…yes…Filthy little rat."
"What's your name?" Peter asked Sirius.
Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Mother grabbed his hand and jerked him back, back between her and Father. "You don't go telling boys like that your name—hear?"
Sirius gave a slight nod because he knew if he argued there would be a scene, and he did not want another scene. Not today.
"How old are you?" Peter asked, and then smiled shyly. "I turned eight last Wednesday."
Eleven, Sirius wanted to reply, but didn't dare. He started walked away from number 12, away from the impending scene, hoping the idiot boy might take the hint.
But of course he didn't. They never did. "Hey!"
Sirius didn't turn, but he heard the Peter's footsteps, light and fast approaching.
"Get rid of the filth, Orion!" Mother said. "I can't bare it!"
"Go away," Sirius snapped, rounding on Peter, knowing full well what 'get rid of the filth' meant. "Leave! Now!"
"Please—can't we play? My brothers just went off to uni and I'm—"
"Why would I ever want to play with you?" Sirius cut in savagely, "Run before I start chasing you!"
The look on Sirius's face must have been horrible, for Peter hesitated a moment, and then reddened, sprinting fast into the background.
"Good boy," Mother mumbled to Sirius as they hurried down the street. "We don't ever mingle with that lot."
"I should put up more wards," said Father, glaring back at where Peter had stood not moments ago.
By the time they reached Kings Cross, Mother and Father had lapsed into their normal, gloomy silences, leaving Sirius alone to his thoughts. He tended to be left alone to his thoughts often, as, aside from Regulus—and Regulus hardly counted—Sirius never had anyone to talk to. Sure there was Kreacher, but he was worse than Regulus, and then there were the pictures on the walls…But Sirius had never had an actual friend before. Everyone he ever met besides family was considered "unworthy of his company," as Mother always put it. He was all right with that the first few years, thought she was simply being over-protective…But after years of growing up captive in that house, unable to go outside without supervision lest he find himself amidst the unworthy…Sirius was right sick of it.
And he was free now. Free to make friends with whomever he so desired. And right near perfect timing, too. The pictures had been complaining he had nothing left to say.
They reached platform nine, and Sirius felt his heart drop in dismay. "There's no nine and three-quarters!" he said, feeling dreams of Hogwarts and life and friendships fade rapidly as his hopes.
"Of course there is, dear," said Mother, guiding him over to the barrier between nine and ten. "You think they'd leave it out in the open so anyone could see it?"
"Can't we hurry this up a bit?" asked Father, "I've got to be getting back."
"What—what do I do?"
"Just push your cart straight at the barrier—oh, watch them do it."
Sirius stared in awe as a be-speckled boy with jet black hair and wild eyes rammed his cart at the barrier and…vanished. A man and woman threw themselves after him, and vanished in the very same manner.
"Go on then," said Father, and Sirius turned his cart tentatively toward the barrier. What if I crash? He wanted to ask, but knew Father would just roll his eyes and Mother would sigh at him for being to cowardly. He began pushing the cart forward, breaking out into a run as he neared the barrier. Just as he was about to crash he squeezed his eyes shut…and nothing. He was through.
Sirius glanced round: at the train, at the thongs, at the magic and the life. This was what home was meant to feel like. This was family. He turned, waiting for his parents to appear through the barrier. After a moment a couple appeared, but they were strangers to him as everyone else on the platform. Another few moments and a thin, mousy-haired, bedraggled-looking boy popped out, followed by his parents…
The boy was giving him a strange look. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Sirius nodded too quickly, and then turned away. They weren't coming. They weren't coming to say goodbye. Not that he should have expected it. He turned back to grab his bags from the cart, and found the boy still looking at him with that odd expression. "What?" he snapped.
"You a first year?"
"Yeah."
They boy gave a shy smile. "So am I. I'm Remus—what's you're name?"
Sirius was about to answer but then stopped himself. Not everyone is worthy of your company. No. His parents weren't here. They hadn't said goodbye. He could talk to whoever he bloody pleased. "Sirius," he said finally, and Remus's grin widened.
"Would you like to find a compartment, Sirius?" he asked, waving goodbye to his tearful parents.