Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, any characters, buildings or spells. Jo Ro (the legend) owns the lot.
A/N: This is my first story on here so if you review please be nice but if criticism is necessary I'll it on board. This was beyond annoying me and so there have been a few tweaks but nothing major league.
Edit: Okay, so the changes have been quite major league, but for the better. And the beginning and ending are the same.
"Finally"
The figure on the bed was as still and as quiet as night that surrounded it. The only sound in the room was the rise and fall of its chest as it took in deep breaths, trying to calm itself still from the fight it had started hours before.
The mass, a young man, had shut his eyes in a desperate attempt to block out the world and submerge him in unconsciousness. He didn't want to face it, the force that was his family's insults and arguments about his life. He couldn't handle another row about his choice of friends or the fact that he was so odd in a family that seemed to have their personalities cloned from each other, down through the generations.
He tried to convince himself that he didn't mean to start the fight, to complain and argue, just like he used to. He had stopped those years ago. He had grown up from the troublesome eleven year old that thought he was better than his parents because he accepted everyone. He was still, deep down, the rebellious fighter that had overcome the many family struggles he had faced.
Something inside him snapped that night, when he saw him.
He didn't understand how it had happened, how he hadn't noticed the changes in his brother. The young man had desperately tried to remove himself from the clutches of his name and history. He remembered avoiding conversations that involved politics because he was supposed to agree. And he had agreed, for a short time. He was no angel. As a young boy, his family's brainwashing had affected him. Although he would never admit it now, there was a time in his short life when the people he would now call his real family would have been seen as below him. He wouldn't have involved himself with 'their kind'.
James, he was a Blood Traitor, someone who couldn't be trusted. He was open and forgiving to the rest of the wizarding world. Sirius could distinctly remember overhearing his father speak about the Potters as if they were dust under the sofa, something that no one cared about and could be taken care of.
Remus, the poor bloke was a Werewolf. His young life had been snatched from him in a second. There was no way he was to associate himself with filthy Monsters like him. He was dangerous and a menace to society. Sirius remembered when he was in his Second Year, his uncle had tried to put forward a Bill stating that all magical creatures that posed a threat to society should be gathered together and, well, executed. The thought of his friend having to die due to a simple mistake was too much to handle. Their friendship had been shaken slightly but Sirius was adamant that he was strongly opposed to Cygnus Black's attempted Bill. It was never passed.
Peter, the Halfblood. His parents hadn't cared about their histories or their status. They were in love, something which Sirius could not say his own parents were. They married in a beautiful ceremony, both families sharing the joy that these two people had come together, despite anger from the pureblood community. His father was the son of two Muggle-born parents and his mother was a Halfblood. Sirius shouldn't have talked to someone whose parents had been so lax about their Blood status.
Another bang could be heard from down stairs. His eyes shot open, peering around the dimly lit room to see if anyone had decided to follow him up here. He had relaxed eventually, looking straight up at the ceiling of his room, tracing the long line that had appeared the year before. He let out a sigh, thinking of that time last summer. It was from a fight he had had with his brother. It was a hex that was made for him, but he deflected it towards the ceiling, damaging it quite badly. This brought him to the fact that his parents had obviously not cared enough to repair the damage. It was clearly a hazard.
Maybe the ceiling was about to fall down and crush him...he quietly hoped.
He could hear the yells downstairs. His mother was screaming obscenities, most likely about his behaviour or something even less trivial. His father's rough gritty voice was trying to console the angered woman. Sirius could hear his mumbled voice between each outburst, trying to prevent another argument.
"...I thought we raised him right! He should know better, far better than to do that. He betrayed us. BETRAYED US!"
The sharp screaming of his mother was so aggressive he was surprised the secret of their house hadn't been discovered by their neighbours.
For all her shouting, Sirius couldn't understand what he had actually done that was so wrong to make her lash out at him in this night of all nights. He had always been slightly different since his first day at Hogwarts. It had changed him. He maintained that it was definitely for the better.
Her voice calmed slightly, the cursing had lessened. Sirius sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to massage away the headache that was gradually travelling from his neck to the back of his eyes.
This was it.
This was the excuse he needed to leave. He could run now. Why should he stay here in a house that he detested with people who had loss all sort of emotional connections with him. He prepared himself to march downstairs towards his the melting pot of violence, but he stopped.
'Can I actually do this?' He whispered, questioning his decision. 'Can I really just leave them?'
He sat up slowly, walking towards his suitcase. Clothes and books still lay haphazardly in the bottom. Parchment was spilling out from a small compartment in the bottom.
The Map.
He was a Marauder. He had three people who didn't care what he had been taught throughout his life. They were his friends, his brothers.
(Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)
(Final Day of Fifth Year)
"Well I'm definitely looking forward to those results" joked James Potter as the four friends walked into their dormitory, hoping to finally relax from the relentless studying that had taken its toll on then that year.
James wore his classic smug smile as he threw himself on his messed bed, ungracefully pulling off his school jumper and throwing it to the floor. Remus had fallen face first into his pillow, spread eagle on the bed. The full moon was in three days and the young boy had almost slept through their final exam. Charms.
"I need to pack. Remind me to not bring as much clothes next year" spoke Peter as he stared down at his overflowing trunk. Sighing, he knelt to the floor, grabbing anything he could reach from under the bed. He was pretty sure he had thrown a sock or two under there and the effort of retrieving them at the time was far too great.
"No problem Wormette. But I thought girls could never have enough clothes. Or was that shoes?" James laughed from his bed, his hands propped behind his head.
Peter responded by throwing the mystery shoe that he had recovered from under his previously missing Defence Against the Dark Arts book which had disappeared around Christmas.
"Shove it, Prongs."
"I'm messing Wormy. We know you're all man." James shot back, skill-fully catching the offending shoe. "Padfoot, don't tell me your transforming into one of them as well"
The young man looked up from the desk he had been staring at. He wasn't looking forward to packing. James understood though. He had told him in their first year about how he hated the return journey back to London. His parents had overcome their initial disgust. Now it just stayed as disappointment at their eldest son.
Sirius locked eyes with James, his best friend's grin starting to waver. He didn't need the pity.
This summer might be better?
He broke out into his own grin, reassuring his best mate that all was well over on the desk.
"I don't want to know how you're so sure about that Prongs!" he laughed back.
Remus seemed to smile into his pillow at the friendly banter between his friends. Although usually the observant one, he hadn't noticed the small nonverbal conversation between his other two friends.
The only sense that had good function now was smell. Not the most necessary at this moment.
Sirius was thankful.
(The Next 'Morning')
"Pads? Hey mate, c'mon wake up" whispered James as he stood over his best friend.
It was currently two o'clock in the morning and as Sirius eventually woke slightly, he struggled to fight the urge to punch his best friend in the face-with something that may not be his fist but rather his old Potions book, or a chair from the library.
Sirius mumbled a reply and opened his eyes blearily. He sat up and made room for his friend to sit.
As James took the offered space, he quietly muttered a Muffliato spell towards the remaining occupants of the room.
He shut the curtains surrounding Sirius' bed.
"I see your Charms O.W.L went well. What are you planning on doing Prongs" asked a bemused Sirius as he jokingly pulled his quilt cover around his body.
James smiled and threw the Marauders Map in between them
"I know you're not ecstatic to be leaving here, so you're taking the Map this summer."
The Marauders Map had finally been usable around Halloween of Fourth Year and, although not finished, it had taken permanent residence in James Potter's possession. James had been a very strong driving force in the partial completion of the Map. Sirius had started the idea as a joke but James wanted to make it reality. He had researched the charms and spells with Remus and scouted the entire castle with Peter as Wormtail. The bulk of the work had been done by him. Therefore the other three agreed that during the summer months, James would take the Map.
Sirius was very obviously confused.
"Prongs, why would I take it? I thought we agreed that you were the 'minder'."
"Yes I am," he laughed "but I think you should have it. If you ever feeling like screaming or strangling someone or..."
"...I get it Prongs..."
"...hexing a child or hitting a wall...
"...Prongs..."
"...or locking that brother of yours in a room with no food..."
"...James..."
"...although I wouldn't recommend it, what with that mother of yours. You'll still have the map."
He grinned broadly at this.
Sirius still was at a loss as to why his friend was giving him a Map that was only useful when they were in the school.
"It means that you still have something to look forward to. Another year of secret passages and 'disguising' Mrs Norris. C'mon mate, when you just feel like going mental take out the map and just look through the corridors and the passages. Trust me." He grinned again.
Sirius wasn't sure how to react to his friends newly acquired therapy skills.
"Mate, have you lost it?" He asked, pulling the Map closer to him.
"Just try it."
Sirius shrugged and took the folded parchment. Carefully he pushed it under his pillow. Looking up at James, he smiled.
"You know me too well, you know that."
"I know mate," he replied, patting the young boys shoulder, "Owl me if things get too bad."
"They never do, but I'll keep in touch. Now leave because unlike you, I need my beauty sleep."
The other boy laughed heartily and stood, pulling the curtains back from the bed posts. Sirius lay back down and sighed.
"Seriously, I'm always there for you" James reminded him again.
As Sirius' eyes shut he mumbled his reply:
"I know honey. I love you to."
After receiving a smack from a nearby pillow, Sirius fell into a dreamless sleep. His left hand was tucked under his pillow, clutching the Map possessively.
(Sirius' Room)
(Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London, England)
Sirius sighed as he picked up the parchment. Moving it between his hands, he decided to try James' idea. Carefully he placed the sheet on his bed, knowing that he'd never hear the end of it if he damaged it in any way, especially after The Peter Pettigrew Fireplace Incident of 1975.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good" he spoke quietly, placing his wand on the gap in the middle of the two folds.
As the cursive writing of their nicknames appeared, Sirius soon noticed that there was something rather strange about the words.
'Messrs Moony, Wormtail and Prongs welcome Messr Padfoot to the Marauders Map.'
The writing stayed for a few minutes before the Map finally expanded out across the surface of Sirius' bed.
Instead of the outline of almost every corridor, classroom and secret passageway that they had discovered, it was a map of England. Sirius finally understood James' many hours in the library and constant need to study Charms.
'Messr Prongs guessed that Messr Padfoot would use the Map at some point throughout the summer holidays...'
Although Sirius knew how to get to his Best Mates house via Floo, that option was clearly out of the question with his livid mother causing mayhem downstairs.
'...and he would like to show him how to get to his house from London.'
The writing scrawled across the bottom of the Map in James' unmistakably messy handwriting. Sirius stomach dropped as he realised that James had known the entire time that Sirius would need to escape. The writing disappeared once again as a messy ring shape appeared near the bottom of the Map. James' handwriting once again glided across the page, writing 'London' distinctly above it. Further up the Map a large black dot was coloured in with 'My House' written. A distorted line connected the two places.
'Messr Prongs recommends hitchhiking as he hears it's a fun pastime.'
'Messr Moony wishes that Messr Padfoot uses his brain, which Prongs seems to be lacking, and call the Knight Bus.'
'Messr Wormtail just hopes that Messr Padfoot survives which ever option as he hears the Knight Bus can be quite scary.'
Sirius laughed softly at the distinct handwriting of each member. He knew each person better than he knew himself. Something inside him grew as he realised he had to escape.
He opened his nearby wardrobe and pulled out anything he could think he would need. Throwing everything in the general direction of his suitcase, he grabbed some unused parchment and quickly scribbled his letter to James.
'Prongs,
I'm leaving. Just a heads up, I'm going to yours.
Cheers,
Padfoot'
He carefully took out his owl, Al. Apparently short for Alejandro. Well, according to Peter. Tying the small paper around his leg, he fed the bird before opening his window and telling the bird to 'fly to James Potter's House really fast.'
"Mischief Managed" he spoke to the Map before folding and shoving it into his back pocket. If anything was ripped at least he had a reason. He grabbed some galleons and sickles that were lying on his beside locker, money for the Knight Bus.
He forcefully squeezed his suitcase shut through a mixture of kicking, swearing and sitting on it. Eventually he found his broom and with it propped under his left arm, his suitcase in his left hand and his wand pointing forwards in his right, he walked out the door and across the landing.
'You're a Gryffindor, act like one! Where is your bloody bravery?' He mentally told himself off.
As he inhaled deeply, trying to calm his crazed nerves, he started the descent.
He didn't care about the noises his broom made scraping off the greenish wallpaper or the bang it made as he hit a portrait. The screams of each painted witch and wizard signalled his arrival before could.
As he reached the bottom he came face to face with his mother and the damage she had caused during her tantrum. All around him wallpaper had been torn, carpet had been scorched and the curtains had been forcefully pulled from the railings. He knew this was the end, whether he would get out and escape forever or whether he would be killed. Ending his life was something he was sure she was capable off.
Her dark eyes were boring into his soul, he guessed.
"I can't believe it! You of all people, the heir to our fortune, you never belonged here! You were always the one, ever since the day you were born; you were the one who would tear this family apart! You disgraced our name..." Her voice drifted and faltered slightly. Sirius stood still as he watched his mother breakdown in front of him. He was convinced he had never seen her so vulnerable.
His father had appeared behind her. His face was stony and cold, void of all emotion towards his son.
"Sirius?" He questioned.
He simply stared back at the two people before him. They created him and raised him. As a child he was adored and spoiled. As a young child he had been perfect to them.
His father placed a hand on the back of his sobbing mother. Her eyes had become bloodshot and solemn. She sobbed his name once more.
He glanced down, not feeling able to look directly at those two people he was letting down.
"Sirius?" This voice was higher and softer, drifting from the staircase.
Regulus.
Sirius realised that if he stayed any longer he wouldn't leave. They had already started to collapse around him and he couldn't handle it.
Within seconds he walked to towards the front door. As he turned the serpent door handle he took one final glance towards the family he was leaving.
"I'm sorry..." His voice was a whisper, containing all the emotion he had repressed for those last five years.
As he stepped out into the cool air of a London evening.
Once the door closed, it was official.
Once the door closed, he was no more the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
Once the door closed he was just Sirius.
(Side Street, London, England)
The street looked abandoned as he walked along the patchy pavement. He had relived the entire encounter many times even though he had only been gone for mere minutes. He came to the corner and stood taking a sharp intake of air, failing to clear his blurred head. As Sirius walked to the curb, he held out his right arm, wand in hand, and waited for the purple death trap to appear. In a matter of seconds the Knight Bus pulled up beside him, causing him to pull back sharply.
Steven Shunpike stood ready and waiting, in his classic purple uniform, for the young wizard to board, unfazed by the erratic driving manner.
"Son, bit late, innit? 'Ope my young 'in Stan won' be up to nuffink as bad as you lot. Where you off to?"
"The Potter's House, Godric's Hollow"
"Right on our way" answered the conductor "that'll be eleven sickles, but, for thirteen, could I interes' you in a 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the colour of your choice."
Sirius declined the offer and paid the eleven sickles that he wrestled out of his pocket.
He walked down the aisle, finding a bed empty down the back. The dimly lit candle burned beside it, casting a dull glow around the bed area. Sirius wasn't feeling very social. He threw his suitcase at the end of the cotton sheets and propped his broom between it and the bedpost, hoping that it wouldn't begin to roll around the floor. He kept the grip on his wand.
He sat down, signing heavily, on the bed and, with his head in his hands, emotions began to rush. The whole ordeal had exhausted him. The tears couldn't be controlled as he wept silently. He wasn't sure why. He had detested that home and made it clear to his friends that he was waiting for the day when he could leave.
He rubbed the salty tears from his eyes, questioning if he was able to last the hour long journey to his friend's home. Just like Peter had warned him, the mode of transport was definitely not safe. The bus' rapid movements and lack of anything which could be classified as a 'safety feature' made him sure that he was going to try and avoid this kind of travel in the future. Yet for all its speed, buildings seemed to move for it. He had yet to see a car, pedestrian or lamppost which had stubbornly stayed its ground.
The seriousness had finally sunk in. He wasn't sure if his parents would take him back at all. He wasn't even sure if he had left for good? He knew that the look his parents had given him when he looked back at them for the last time would answer his questions. He was gone.
(The Knight Bus)
"The Potter's House, Godric's Hollow"
Sirius woke quickly from his sleep. He had fallen back against the slightly lumpy mattress. His eyes were sticky and he rubbed them before he stood. Pulling his only belongings back along the aisle and thanking Steven, he jumped off the bus, dropping his suitcase.
The rain had started to pour, like the last time he had visited The Potter's.
"Why is always so bloody wet here?" He muttered to himself as he dragged his soaked and muddied suitcase along the lane way towards the large house. His broom was, again, under his left arm and his wand in his right.
The walk was agonising as his sleep deprived body goaded him up to the front door.
"Why is this lane so bloody long?"
Standing at the front door, Sirius guessed it was around eleven o'clock at night. He pulled his fist up, ready to knock but he hesitated. He didn't want to face anymore rejection, from people he thought would understand him. His parents had treated him differently since that night his they were informed that their eldest son and heir had been placed in Gryffindor, not Slytherin.
James became his brother. More than Regulus ever was. He accepted him. Sirius knew that he couldn't face rejection from another brother. Not again. Never again.
He took a deep breath and slowly lifted his hand; knock loudly, once, twice, three times. He could hear no movement inside and thought about knocking again. Soon he saw a shadow walk past the long iced window beside the door. Slowly Charles Potter came into view. His wrinkles eyes were smiling as he saw who the intruder was.
"Sirius!" He spoke lightly. He was expecting him after all, "look at you son, you're soaked!"
Charles Potter's eyes held a warmth that Sirius had never seen in his own fathers. His wrinkles features added character and personality to the older man. His father's heartless expressions were nothing in comparison.
"Hello...eh...good evening Mr Potter" stuttered Sirius back, "I'm sorry but..." he trailed off quietly.
"Don't worry, we got your owl. Look at you son you're soaked. Come in, come in, we'll have to get you warm!" exclaimed the man.
Mrs Potter was sitting in the kitchen with her son, waiting patiently for their expectant visitor. As Sirius was brought into the kitchen, James immediately shot from his chair to friend's side.
"Sirius! You hurt? It's not raining again is it? Sorry for the weather. How did you get here? Did you hitchhike?"
"James. Leave Sirius for a bit. He's only arrived." Mrs Potter pointed out to her concerned son, "Sirius, dear, you're soaked to the bone. And the clothes in that trunk will need to be washed immediately. James, run up and get something spare."
James reluctantly walked away, patting his friends shoulder encouragingly as he walked out into the hall and ascended the stairs.
Mrs Potter looked worried.
"Really, you don't have to do anything. I have clothes and..."
"Nonsense." Mr Potter cut him off, "you're staying put Sirius Black."
He couldn't help but cringe as he heard his name. He was no longer a Black. He no longer had his parents or his brother.
He felt guilty for causing such hassle.
"I'll get Roddy to fix you two some tea." She smiled warmly at him, "there's nothing to worry about here. We'll leave you in peace."
As Mr and Mrs Potter left the room to give him time to adjust, Sirius sat where she had left vacant. Looking around the kitchen the, the whole feeling sunk in. This wasn't his home. He successfully got his emotions controlled before James bombed into the kitchen carrying the spare clothes he could find.
"I hope these fit. We know how much you love your food." He joked playfully.
Sirius smiled solemnly.
"Hey Pads, its fine. Mum and dad are okay with everything. We'll get your stuff cleaned. Relax."
Sirius looked up at him, suddenly realising that the map had sat in his back pocket the entire time. He reached behind him and pulled it out. It was bone dry. Placing it on the marbled surface of the kitchen counter, Sirius looked puzzled.
"Many charms have been put in place since Peter decided it would look pretty up in flames. Did you like my little artistic story? Can only be seen once so you better had taken it all in the first time."
Sirius smiled at his friend's ramblings as he pushed his drenched hair from his eyes. That's what made him James. He always had something to say. The only person to ever silence him was Lily Evans, and even that was quite a huge feat to accomplish. James took his previous seat across from him. He looked towards his friend and sighed.
"I got the Knight Bus." Spoke Sirius, breaking the silence, "Moony recommended it. It's not very efficiently equipped but I got here. Do you even know what hitchhiking is Prongs?"
"Damn Moony and his sensibility. And yes, I may have gotten a few muggles to take me into town once or twice."
"That's a five minute trip. That's a lift Prongs"
The boys sat in silence again, only breaking it when the Potter's house elf Roddy arrived with the tea.
A jaw splitting yawn escaped James' lips. It had been almost forty minutes since either boy had spoken.
"Can't believe you ran. You actually ran away from home!" exclaimed James, his voice heavy from tiredness.
Sirius stayed very quiet, staring down at his hot tea.
"Yeah", he whispered, "I know."
"Padfoot? Hello, Padfoot? Sirius? You're spacing out on me here!" James attempted to rile Sirius from the daydream that he had submerged himself in. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Just stop James. Please!" Sirius almost pleaded with his friend. "Just stop reminding me! I know, I left but...It's just too much to take in you know! I mean, there my family, and I've just left them! I... I know I've complained and told you I hated them but it's easier when I know I'll... see them again. I don't know... I..." His voice began to crack with emotion as the events finally felt like a landslide through his head.
James just couldn't understand.
"I hate them but they're my family, James, my parents! The people who created me and raised me and spoiled me rotten! How do I just forget everything they've done?"
The two boys just sat still after that, neither saying a word. Sirius stayed silent, worried that if he opened his mouth again he would have no control over what he would say. James was being very weary of his friend. He didn't want to offend him, but he knew he had to say something.
"Come on Pads, there is a spare bed in my room", James eventually spoke.
Sirius looked up, grateful of some rest.
"Leave your stuff. You can get it once it's tidy. And Al is waiting for you." With this last sentence James smiled at his friend.
Without another sound, both boys walked up the stairs, emotionally exhausted over what had happened. They both knew that it was over. Sirius was heartbroken. He would never have to set foot in that house again and he was grateful.
It also meant he was gone from their family. His parents would erase him as if he never existed and he would be disowned. Maintaining the fact that he had made the right choice, he lay down on James spare bed. He thought of his decision and agreed that whatever side he had chosen, there were consequences. He rolled over; his left hand was tucked under his pillow, clutching the Map possessively. A silent tear ran down his cheek as he lay still hoping that this was the start of his life. Finally.