Maraudette here! Just a little fic that popped into my head when I was reading HP #1. Reviews welcomed! ***

The Leaky Cauldron:

Potter Boys

"Welcome back, Mister Potter, welcome back!"

Tom walked around the side of the bar and shook Mr. Potter's hand eagerly. He smiled widely, exposing every tooth.

"Good morning, Tom," said Mr. Potter, laugh lines creasing around his eyes. "How's the girl?"

"Ah, she's doing fine, just graduated, herself," he said, nodding. "But you must be here for your own boy, aren't you?"

Mr. Potter looked down at the boy lounging lazily in a nearby table seat, eyeing them, amused. "Yes, sir," said his father. "He just received his letter. And by the way he was going I thought he'd never have an owl sent –"

The boy with the gravity-defying hair laughed heartily. "Like the time I set the cat on fire by kicking it, hm? Or the day I flew out the window in my bedroom? That proved I had no magic whatsoever, of course, no doubt about it!"

"Inherited his mother's sarcasm, unfortunately," Mr. Potter said out of the corner of his mouth, and then, more loudly, "All right, now, James, my boy, we'd best be going. I promised your mother I'd be back before three, and we're out of Floo, we're going to have to Muggle it."

"Oh, Dad! No way! Muggles smell funny!"

"Be careful what you say 'round these parts, young Mr. Potter," laughed Tom, handing him a small bottle of butterbeer. "You don't want to be pegged as one of the wrong crowd for a comment like that."

"Indeed. Good day, Tom!" Mr. Potter took James's free hand and almost dragged him from the shop, where the boy was trying to nick a glass of Firewhisky from behind Tom's back.

.o.O.o.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Potter, it's been a while!"

Tom looked up from his glass and smiled at the rumple-haired young boy that had just entered his pub, a friend on either side and bringing with him a gust of fresh air.

"What happened to your tooth, Tom?" James said by way of greeting.

"Aberforth's goat kicked it out while I was refilling a keg down by the Hog's Head," said Tom cheerily, filling three bottles of butterbeer. The boy on James's right coughed and said,

"Actually, we'd like mead better, if you don't mind, Tom."

Tom laughed. "Aye, I don't mind, but your parents might, boys."

"My mom doesn't care about anything much," the boy muttered.

"Aye? And what's your surname?"

James jumped in, saying, "This is Sirius Black, and this is my other mate Remus Lupin."

Tom had the grace to look taken aback for only a moment. "I'd reckon your mother wouldn't care much," he said, taking in the Black boy's Gryffindor emblazoned Quidditch shirt. "She wasn't much on anything else save for her Slytherin mates. And you are the Lupin boy?"

The sandy-haired one nodded, eyes wide with apprehension. But Tom merely nodded and said, "Well, I suppose I can give you two mead. But you, Mr. Potter, I fear your mother too much." He winked and shook a finger at him. "Never get on the wrong side of a red-head if you can manage it, my boy."

.o.O.o.

"Hello, Tom!"

"Miss Evans! What a pleasure seeing you again! It's been much too long!"

A tall, red-headed teen had walked in thru the Muggle entrance, perching delicately on a barstool. Tom smiled and leaned forward towards her. "Home for your winter holidays, eh, missy?"

"Yes," she said, and sighed, playing with her necklace.

"How has your sister been?" he asked quietly, observing her over a cup.

Lily sighed again and averted her eyes. "She... er, resents me. She wishes I hadn't come home." Her bright green eyes finally made contact with Tom's. "She told me I belonged in an asylum for believing in this rubbish."

Tom clucked his tongue. "There's nothing quite like a woman's scorn to heavy the heart, I do believe," he said, and handed her a tall tankard of warm butterbeer. "But your sister will regret saying those things, my dear girl, mark my words. You just focus on your OWL's and put that out of your mind."

"Oh, I know you're right," said Lily, swiping at her eyes quickly. "I know. But now I don't even have Severus to talk to – you remember Severus Snape?"

"Aye, I do, missy. You two were closer than burrs in a boot – but what's this about him being gone?"

"He... well. He called me a Mudblood. In a fit of temper, of course, but that doesn't amount to much difference." Tom frowned and patted her hand. "I'm better off in my own House, I suppose."

"That's no way to think, my girl! Never carry hate in your heart. Best to forgive and clear your heart than let anger rot it inside-out." She opened her mouth, but he held up a finger. "I'm not ordering you to be all chummy-chummy with him either. Just forgive him for yourself."

Lily smiled a sad little smile and took a sip of butterbeer. "I suppose Gwendolyn and I are close enough to make up for it," she mused, eyes glittering. "Remember when we came in here one New Year's and nearly forced you to an Unforgivable with our antics?"

"I wouldn't say an Unforgivable, lassie. I'm sure the Ministry would forgive me after taking into account the hedgehog baubles that followed me senselessly after." Lily laughed.

"I suppose they would." She downed the last dregs in one and stood. "Well, I'm sorry to be short, but I promised Remus I would meet him at the Magical Menagerie to inquire about a summer employment together. How much was the –?"

"No charge, darling," he said. She smiled and strolled towards the back of the shop. "Oh, and Miss Evans?"

She stopped, one hand on the door. "Yes?"

"There's always that Mr. Potter. He's a fine boy."

Her face twisted into an expression of anger for the briefest of breaths – and then it was smooth again, pale porcelain with spotty freckles. There was a pause.

"You ought not let Aberforth's goat kick you anymore, Tom," she said softly, eyes sparkling. "Soon you'll be without any teeth at all."

"I'll remember that, Lily," he said, smiling, and returned to cleaning an empty glass.

.o.O.o.

The night was very quiet. Not many had passed in and out of the pub that day, and Tom was directing a broom around the bar by wandlight when the door swung inwards and revealed a familiar face.

"Why, hello there, Mr. Black!" said Tom, beaming. "What can I fix you up with this evening?"

"You haven't got any firewhisky, have you?" Sirius asked, sitting heavily into a bar stool. He wore signs of strain and stress, and his normally well-kept hair was layabout and dirty.

"Of course," said Tom carefully, placing a glass before him. The youth downed it in one. "What's happened to you, Mr. Black?"

Sirius regarded his hands, letting a heavy silence settle, but Tom merely stood with a tankard and a rag, polishing.

"You remember my mother, Tom?" he asked suddenly. There was a sharp edge in his voice. Tom nodded.

"Lovely woman, of course. Beautiful, intelligent, and so understanding of her eldest son." His voice dripped in sarcasm, and he took another mouthful of firewhisky. "She disowned me."

He said it so baldly, so helplessly, that Tom couldn't help but pat him heavily on the shoulder and pour a more aged firewhisky for him. The youth nodded his thanks. "I've – I've got nowhere to stay for the moment. Any vacancies?"

"Of course, Mr. Black. I'll set you up with a suite. But – now, it isn't none of my business, but why not head to young Mr. Potter's? I've always seen you two together."

Sirius regarded him haughtily, then sighed and stared into his glass. "I can't ask that of James. His parents aren't fond of mine. They don't know me too well. I can't ask them to – to take me in like a common orphan."

"Well, Mr. Black, like I said, it's not any business of mine, but Mrs. Potter has never spoken ill of you to me, and I've known her since our own days at Hogwarts. Always compliments on you from her – how well-behaved in her presence. Of course, she knows enough from Mr. Potter to realize your antics at school, but she has a sense of humor. She wouldn't refuse you."

Sirius half-smiled and drained his glass.

"Would you like your room, Mr. Black? Or a tin of biscuits?"

"Just – just the room, please."

"And how many nights might I put you down for?"

There was a pause, and then Sirius squared his shoulders and said, "Just one."

The barkeep patted him on the arm heavily and said, "That's a good man." He passed him a key. "Second on the left, third floor."

"Thanks," said Sirius, and stood up. "But can I ask you a question?"

"Only if I might ask a slight favor."

"Of course, go ahead."

"Keep a fair weather eye out for Mr. Potter and Miss Evans, will you? I do believe that boy's ego will be his downfall."

The youth chuckled. "Of course. I've told him more times than you can count." Tom smiled.

"And your question, Mr. Black?"

"How many of the teeth you've lost have been because of a goat?"

"Three from Aberforth, two from a spell misfire, and five from when Hagrid got a little tipsy one night and decided I was threatening him. I was at St. Mungo's for a week." Tom chuckled. "And now, good night to you, Mr. Black."

"Thanks, Tom. Good night."

.o.O.o.

It had been little over a year since Tom had seen them, and never had he seen those two together. It was understandable that Remus asked him how he was feeling when he, Sirius, and James walked in together, James's arm wrapped around the waist of none other than Miss Lily Evans. Tom had felt the color leave his face in surprise.

"Are you quite alright, Tom? Only you look a bit pale."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Lupin, well as a Cheering charm. A round of mead? And your usual, Miss Evans?"

"Thank you, Tom," she said, and sat down on a barstool next to James, Sirius on her left, Remus next to Sirius. Tom bent over the bar as far from Lily as he could and said from the corner of his mouth, "Been keeping an eye out for him, then, lad?"

Sirius chuckled lowly. "Remus and I both. You don't have any idea how hard it was to rein him in when she said yes."

Tom grinned, and James laughed loudly.

"You've got three left teeth now, eh, Tom?"

"Yes, I do believe. Your cousin, in fact, Mr. Lupin, knocked out the last four in here a week ago, dueling with a Miss Narcissa Black." Tom looked away as Sirius and Remus exchanged loaded looks. "Fighting about – well, her betrothed, I believe, if you catch my meaning. Made some dangerous accusations against him, I heard."

Sirius downed half his mead, and Lily sipped her large butterbeer pensively.

"Had much luck with employment, any of you tatterdemalions?" asked the barkeep lightly, switching tact. Remus laughed humorlessly.

After a confused look, James reminded Tom, "Have you heard about that horrid Umbridge woman? The anti-Half Breed? Passed a few laws the other day. Not very furry-friendly, if you understand me."

Tom nodded heavily, and looked out the window. "Sure are dark times, aye, mates," he said, staring at the sky. "Can't even get a ray of sunlight anymore."

James reached out and squeezed Lily's hand. Remus downed his mead and clapped it heavily onto the wooden counter. Sirius simply looked at Tom, and when their eyes caught, reached out and grabbed a large glass bottle of firewhisky from under the bar and handed it to his werewolf friend.

.o.O.o.

"Good morning, Tom!"

"Good morning, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin! And – oh, does this mean this is Mrs. Potter?"

Lily grinned eagerly at him and shifted the bundle in her arms to show off the glittering platinum band on one finger. Remus gently took the bundle from her and nestled it into the crook of his arm. James looked beside himself.

"We tried to owl you, but –"

"I know. I was in Scotland for the last two years or so – my daughter took over for me."

"We're sorry, Tom," said Sirius, and he sounded like he meant it.

Tom nodded. "We gave her a proper send-off, like she wanted. A beautiful funeral. She was only a little older than you four," he added. A grim shadow passed over them. "But don't let my old man's worries cloud you up, you lot! A baby! How exciting!"

Remus leaned forward and placed the little bundle in Tom's open arms. It seemed to fit there. The face of a baby boy looked up at him, waving fat little fists in the air and gurgling.

"Looks just like you, Mr. Potter," said Tom affectionately. "But his eyes – his mother's eyes, to be sure – and her nose, by the look of it. A right little angel, I believe."

"Thanks, mate," said James, and eased the bundle back into his own gentle grip.

"How many months ago?"

"Two next Friday," said Lily promptly, smiling.

"And already back to how you looked beforehand, eh, Mrs. Potter?"

"Petunia was the same way. She had a little boy a few months ago," she said. She grimaced. "I heard from Aunt Cecilia."

"Your parents wouldn't be happy if they knew their two little girls were at each other's throats like that, miss," said Tom softly, and patted her hand with the lightest of touches. She looked away from him, to her baby, and closed her eyes for a second.

James shifted to check his watch, and swore. Sirius and Lily immediately smacked him in the head harshly, and Remus hissed, "Not in front of Harry!" Tom laughed.

"I have every right to say –" (Sirius hit him again, and Lily snatched her baby away from him) "All right, all right! We're late, though, and Mad-Eye wasn't happy last time! Come on, I fancy not being a badger for the rest of the day!"

The four bid a hasty good-bye, and the baby even waved and gurgled a bit more, and they swept out of the Leaky Cauldron in a whirl of robes.

.o.O.o.

Tom leaned back, smiling. It was late morning, and a few good customers were already in and settling for a long stay. A few witches sat in the corner with pipes, casting a hazy fog, and a pair of Scottish wizards chatted by the front window. Only a little cleaning to do, and then a nice tuck-in before the lunch rush –

An immense figure squeezed his way into the door, face covered with wildly tangled beard and hair. He grinned.

"The usual, then, Hagrid?" Tom called, reaching for a tankard bigger than any other. Hagrid chuckled.

"No, thank yeh, Tom," he said, and drew himself up. "I'm here on official Hogwarts business."

Tom's eyes followed Hagrid's hand as he dropped it to a young boy's shoulder. He was small and in need of a large cake, with hair that stuck up in every direction and bright emerald eyes. Tom was dragged back forcefully to a time many years ago, when a boy just like him had been brought in by a father that had resembled him as much as this boy resembled his own father.

But no, this boy was not just like his father: He was not quite as cocky, that much was sure, and his nose was too short. But near enough on the outside: he was the perfect balance of his father's looks and mother's personality.

Tom smiled warmly at the boy that was so different and so familiar, took his hand, and said, "Welcome back, Mr. Potter. Welcome back."

Reviews are always appreciated! XD ***