Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I would be laying out on a beach in Hawaii and not living in this stupid town. So, no.

Author's Note: I'm not sure where this is going, or how long & far I'll take it. OK- If it's in italics, it's the diary entry. That's all!  R&R, please.

Sirius Black's Diary

Sirius Black had been caught out of bed after curfew again. It was the third time this week.

"Black, I am utterly disappointed in you. It's only the second week! I would give you a month's worth of detentions, but Professor Dumbledore thinks otherwise.

"So I am providing you with this blank book. While I cannot force you to write in it, it is my hope you will. Professor Dumbledore seems to think all you need is an outlet for your frustrations."

"That all, Professor?"

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, Black." She handed him the book.

Thursday, September 12th

Can you believe it? I got off with just this book as my punishment. It's not my fault that there's nothing to do here. No one wants to talk to a Black, and the people that do won't 'cause I'm in Gryffindor. So I go walking around the castle at night to clear my head, I guess. I know the castle better than the teachers, I reckon. I found this passageway by this statue, and I think it leads to Hogsmeade. Wish I had some way to hide myself so I could go, but whatever.

No one's up right now…just that pale peaky kid. Remus or something. He's up at the window, looking out on the grounds. Quiet bloke, he reads a lot. He's the only one who's spoken to me, but that figures out all right 'cause he's a Muggle-born. My dad would have a fit if he knew I was associating with a guy that has "bad" blood. Maybe I should try and get to know the kid…

Sirius Black had dark circles under his eyes from his nightly jaunts. His year-mates looked strangely at him when he stayed in the next night. He had, so far, left the dorm every night and they had not tried to stop him since the first time. He had thrown James Potter into a door.

"Bugger off, you nosy idiot!" he had roared and tossed the black-haired boy into the heavy door. With some quick spell work, Remus Lupin had slowed the boy's progress. James' only injury was an aching pride. Sirius noted that James especially ignored him. That was a shame, for unbeknownst to Sirius, for the two would have gotten along quite well.

With an unreadable expression, Sirius slung the draperies shut and settled into bed. Outside the heavy curtains, James had engaged the witless Peter Pettigrew in a heated, albeit one-sided, chess match. Remus was curled up in a squashy armchair reading a heavy book and munching on some chocolate. Sirius tuned out the frustrated yelps and soft flicking of pages being turned as he opened his book.

Friday, September 13th

Breakfast was fairly uneventful. It was good fun to watch Peter Pettigrew drip his orange juice all over the lap of his robes and not notice. I almost started laughing, but I caught Potter's eye at that moment. We both desisted our laughter and glared. Funny how chucking someone into a door can be such a damper on possible friendships. Plus, it's not like he'd ever speak to me. I'm a Black and he's probably heard all about me from his Auror father. I know I sound rather old and close-minded by saying that, but it's the truth.

It's Friday the thirteenth. Everyone is atwitter. They're all running around, purchasing as many good-luck charms as possible. Personally, I enjoyed the quiet in the common room.

Classes were mildly interesting except for Defense Against the Dark Arts. For one thing, we had it with Slytherin. Half the kids in that group know me, and let's say they weren't too chuffed at having me "switch sides". And the lessons were dreadfully elementary; I knew all the answers. But I heeded Father's one piece of intelligent advice: Don't let on about how much you know. I suppose the same thing is going to apply to Transfiguration.

Never even made it to Potions…More about that later.

I've got to calm down…I still feel guilty about my actions to Potter and Lupin. They're my year-mates and I've got to get on all right with them.

"Watch it!" Sirius snarled.

A tall, greasy boy with long tangled hair had tripped and fallen into him. It was Potions class, and the potion was a finicky beast. The greasy kid had knocked Sirius' cauldron and almost tipped it. The green potion lapped hungrily at the edge of Sirius' black cauldron. With excellent reflexes born from Quidditch, Sirius quickly righted the precarious pot. Not a drop hit the floor, but still Sirius looked expectantly at the other boy. He wanted an apology. In natural Slytherin manners, the boy had merely swore. His name was Severus Snape, and he was a first-year Slytherin. Sirius would never admit it, but he had known the boy since birth. He hated him with a passion, and Snape was quickly learning to return the favor. Neither one wanted to admit to their house that they knew the other. For Sirius, it was just another tie to his Dark past. Snape had to go.

Potter looked over his simmering potion to watch Sirius. Sirius knew that Potter was not particularly fond of the greasy haired Snape, but that did not even come to mind when Sirius reacted. He had just caught Snape trying to dump a carefully selected assortment of ingredients that, if combined, would cause Sirius' concoction to explode.

"I'm not stupid, Snape. Why don't you shove off with those ingredients, you greasy git," Sirius remarked casually, languidly stirring his steaming liquid. Snape looked furious at being caught. After displaying a rather rude gesture for Sirius and the nearby students to see, he attempted to hex Sirius. The Potions master was conveniently busying himself with a stack of papers; he was a timid fellow who hated confrontation. Snape, upon finding his wand mysteriously flying across the room, advanced to Sirius. His fists were raised.

Sirius let the insulted boy get just close enough to touch. Then, he quickly performed the full body-bind spell. Snape froze and fell backwards with a dull thud like a wooden plank. Sirius and several other students laughed uproariously as even Snape's fellow Slytherins turned their backs on him. In just two weeks Snape had shown that he was an outcast up to his deformedly large nose in the Dark arts. Snape looked around, for he could only move his jet black eyes. Sirius had done a thorough job. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius thought he saw Potter laughing. But when he looked closer for certainty, Potter had turned around. Sirius was not quite sure why he wanted Potter's acceptance so much. It just seemed to matter.

He released Snape from the body-bind. Having been completely embarrassed, Snape refused to give up. He snuck behind Sirius, who sensed the disturbance and calmly turned around.

"Move, Snivellus."

A legend was born.

Sunday, September 15th

Honestly, how daft could that prof. be? It's like he didn't want to stop the "fight". Well, it never really escalated to that, but whatever. It's not like I was in any danger; Snivellus never was great shakes at the whole attacking thing. As far as I can tell, he's pretty useless unless you want an abnormally hard potion brewed. Sure he could recite every flippin' Dark spell under the moon. But it's not like he could ever perform it.

I think Potter laughed when I had Snivellus locked up. I'm not sure why I want his assurance so much, but I think I'm…Well, I think I'm lonely. I know that sounds odd. But Potter fits in so easily…I get my fair share of admirers, yes, but Potter's still like him after they hear him speak. He's a bit thickheaded, though. I caught him mooning after that Evans girl. She's quite pretty, and a Muggle-born. But I never did like red hair…

Anyways, that's inconsequential. (Big word, eh?)

It's pretty late, on a Sunday. I know it's odd to have Potions on a Sunday and all, but it was supposed to be on Friday. Some boy (surname was Longbottom, I think) knocked over the ingredients cabinet. Made quite a mess, apparently. I was running late after passing out in the library. I got down to the dungeons and everyone was tearing out of there faster than a flying thestral.

Lupin is gone. Something about a sick mother, according to McGonagall. Honestly, it took me a minute to realize he was gone. He's very solemn for a kid, but I guess I share that with him. My mum always said I was too mature for a child, not enough like Regulus. If you ask me, I'd rather be quiet and understand things than be loud and get confused. But I've got it backwards, if you're listening to my mother.

"Oy, Black? You there?"

Someone was banging on the draperies around Sirius' bed.

"What in the name of God are you doing! This is an ungodly hour to be up, you heathen!" Sirius roared and ripped the curtains open. Potter's wide eyes blinked under disheveled black hair. His hand was frozen in the act of knocking once again. Mouth open in gaping shock, Potter was surprised at Sirius'…"interesting" language.

"Look, Sirius, just don't throw me into a door," Potter said dryly. He had recovered swiftly and arranged his face into an expression of complete sarcasm. "And it's only eight in the morning. Do you plan to grace us with your presence at breakfast?"

Sirius rubbed his eyes. These people were his roommates, and he needed to be liked. Desperately, he wanted reassurance. "Look, I'm sorry. Forgive my rustic language, I am the heathen! It's the effect of Mondays, they choke me…Look, I can barely breathe…" And he threw himself onto the pillows, worn out by the exertion of his flowery language.

Potter looked nonplussed. "Right."

As he left the dorm, he could just barely hear Sirius swear and then the unmistakable thump of someone tossing him or herself back into bed. Smiling for the first time that day, he moved on.

Back in the dorm, Sirius lay tired and defeated.

"This is what I get, trying to be nice…" Sirius sighed aloud. "What is wrong with me!"

A dry voice slipped through the room. "Mayhap you smell."

Sirius looked up to see a pale, weary Remus slide through the door. Sirius noted, as if seeing for the first time, that Remus was oddly thin and had huge circles etched under his eye. Sirius rolled his eyes for dramatic effect. "Oh, I smell like a daisy! What ever are you talking about?"

Remus smirked and shook his head. He looked like he wanted a good bed more than anything, but he threw himself onto Sirius' bed. "What's up?"

Sirius sighed. "It's nothing." As much as he wanted to, he could not bring himself to open up like this. Remus was a good fellow, but still a stranger. In mute acceptance, Lupin rose and limped over to his bed. He fell backwards onto his bed and stared up at the roof of his four-poster bed.

Sirius was silent for a few moments. He observed Remus with a skeptic eye. With mild shock, he registered a blotch of rusty brown liquid staining the bottom of Remus' robes. Sirius focused on the spot and realized with an electric jolt that it was blood. Just then he remembered Remus' vaguely explained absence from the previous night.

The real question for Sirius was whether or not to ask Remus' about the blood. Obviously, his robe was concealing some sort of injury. That would clarify Remus' limp, which had most certainly not been there the other day.

"Hey, Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

Remus cleared his throat. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast, or something?"

Sirius sensed that Remus wanted to be alone. Maybe the excuse about his mum was not a lie. Even Sirius was not so insensitive as to deny Remus his privacy. But still, there was the matter of Remus' injury. To speak or not to speak, that was the question…the obscure Muggle idiom made Sirius smile faintly.

Sirius stood and strode to the door. Thankfully, he had slept in his robes the night before. During one of his breaks he would nip up to the rooms to exchange the robes for a clean set. For breakfast, though, they would do.

Sirius inhaled, hoping that he was making the right choice. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Remus. The peaky boy looked up and raised his eyebrows. It seemed that speaking required too much energy.

"Hey, Remus? If I were you, I would get that leg looked at."

Sirius exhaled.

Monday, September 16th

Monday's are never exciting, and this one was no exception. Remus showed up in afternoon class. He didn't look at me. Same with Potter. I'm tired of trying to get close to these people. But I suppose I haven't been doing exactly a capital job of it… Give me some time, and I'll do my best.

Transfiguration today. It was not exactly riveting, though it was pretty wicked when Professor McGonagall transfigured her desk into a wild pig. Even better when the pig tore around the room and dragged Evans between the desks by her robe's hem. Potter was hilarious; he tried to be all gallant and save her. He ended up spurring the damn thing on. She wasn't particularly pleased about that and I think she's going to begrudge him for a long, long time.

I can't write much today. I need to sleep for a long time. It's my only escape from the loneliness of this school. I'd rather be off exploring the castle, but McGonagall would expel me for sure. I've never been one for remembering my dreams, so I'm pretty safe when I sleep.

God, I sound like a twit…

I've been thinking about dying…Specifically suicide, I mean. I had an older sister who killed herself. The family doesn't talk about it, and the public reason is because it hurts my parents to hear about it. The real reason is because they're the ones that drove her to it. Her name was Camilla. She looked a lot like me, but with blue eyes…I can just barely remember her. She loved dressing up to go places. Her favorite things were Muggle clothes. She loved their make-up. My parents hated her, because she "befouled herself" by embracing Muggle things. She was five years older than me. She died when I was only seven. No one could believe that a twelve-year-old killed herself. It was Halloween night, and the day before her thirteenth birthday. My dad, after slapping her for wearing Muggle mascara, told her that he and mum were taking Regulus out of town that night. They would get back four days after Camilla's birthday. She seemed to take it fine, but when they left she locked herself in her room. She was supposed to be watching me.

I got scared and knocked on her door one hour before midnight. She turned off her music and let me come into the room. We sat on the bed, and I talked about how happy I was about her birthday present from me. For the family party, I had gone shopping with Mum and picked out a boring black cloak. But I had snuck out on my own, and gotten her this beautiful Muggle earrings. They were silver, with a globe of glass dangling from each ear. In the glass, bright specks of color danced. They were just the sort of thing she loved.

She sent me to bed at half past eleven.

She killed herself at 11:40. I know, because I heard her scream and ran into the room. There were two letters on her table, and her body sprawled out on the bed. I remember the exact time because I looked at her clock. The clock had a big yellow smiling face on it. I hated it suddenly, because she hadn't been happy.

I threw the clock at the wall and it broke. The pieces scattered across the floor and glinted in the candlelight. The light threw ghostly shadows on my beloved sister's face. The shadows made her look old and tired. Years later, I realized that my sister was old and tired. She had grown older by the second, living with our parents. And she was tired of it.

I loved my sister, and I miss her so much…Regulus hated me, Mum and Dad hated me, but Camilla loved me. She said so in her letter to me. One letter was written specifically for me; one was to be given to my parents. After Camilla's death, it took me two weeks to even speak. I barely ate for over a month. I lost my star. With Camilla gone, life at home got harder. I ran away frequently.

At age seven, I vowed to never go trick-or-treating again. To me, it was just a night of tricks. No treats.

So? Continue, or shove it away in dark corner? I kinda like it… I've always thought that it was improbable for Sirius to immediately be loved by everyone. Feedback, PLEASE. Review, my darlings… ;-)