Bridget Elladora Sans was not a normal sixteen year old witch.

Most sixteen year old witches went to Hogwarts. They moped about boys and babbled about make up. They had a wide assortment of friends and a small love life at some time or other. They studied hard and got average grades and threw rocks at the Giant Squid. They giggled with their mates and went shopping and bored their boyfriends to tears.

Bridget Elladora Sans spent most of her sixteen years locked away in her room. She received private tuition simply because she had the money. She'd had a couple of friends in her life, but they drifted away. Her best friends were her tutor and her house elf.

Bridget stared hard into her mirror. This was going to change. Everything was going to change this year. She'd convinced her father to drop her tutor -who, of course, Bridget would still stay in touch with- and send her to Hogwarts for her NEWT years. She would be starting her sixth year as a new student. She would make friends and get good grades and throw rocks at the giant squid.

She grinned at her reflection. One more month, she thought to herself, one more month and then I start a normal life.

Bridget was a bright, bubbly, girl teeming with life that she'd never been able to share. She couldn't wait.

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Sirius Orion Black hated his home. That line ran through his head every few seconds when he was in it - I hate my home, I hate my home, I hate my home...

That same line was running through his head today nonstop, but much more detailed - I hate this fucking goddamned house and I can't take it anymore and I'm leaving NOW.

Okay, maybe not the exact same line.

He threw clothes, pictures, and all his things that were at least semi - important to him in his trunk. He could hear his mother's shrieks downstairs, but he did not care. He wanted out and he wanted out now. Slamming his trunk shut, he grabbed a ripped piece of parchment and a quill and wrote a quick letter to his best friend James. He explained that he was leaving his wretched home, if you could call it home, and that he was going over to his house. The shrieks got louder and he screwed his eyes shut, willing her to shut up shut up shut up...

He reread his letter quickly and sighed. He had no idea where his owl was, she probably off hunting. He felt irrationally angry. He ripped the letter to shreds and picked up his trunk. His gray eyes swept over his room one last time before he grabbed his doorknob, wrenched it open, and ran with breakneck speed towards the front door. He grabbed the door handle and slowly opened it, getting ready to leave The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black forever.

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"Shelley will miss you, Miss Bridget."

Bridget swung around in surprise to see her house elf staring at her with big blue eyes. She smiled softly.

"Bridget will miss you too, Shelley."

Bridget decided a long time ago she wanted to speak in third person when talking to Shelley. If Shelley could do it why couldn't she? It earned a lot of disapproving glances from her father, but so did a lot of things Bridget did.

"Must you go, Miss Bridget?"

The house elf's lower lip was trembling and her bright blue eyes seemed glassy. She was only five years old.

"Bridget must go, Shelly."

Two fat tears leaked from Shelley's eyes.

"Hey, hey, don't cry...Bridget still has a month, Shelley!"

This seemed to cheer the poor house elf up a bit. She smiled slowly.

"Your tutor, Miss Abigail, will miss you too, Miss Bridget. And Master Erik, your father, will miss you."

Bridget's smile fell off her face.

"What is the matter, Miss Bridget?" asked Shelley worriedly.

"Bridget's father will not miss Bridget, Shelley."

"What? Of course he will, Miss Bridget!"

"No, Shelley. It's complicated."

Shelley pouted for a minute, then nodded sadly and left the room. Bridget sighed.

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"STOP!"

Sirius decided to listen to his mother's final shriek and turned slowly to face her.

"What?" he snarled unpleasantly, his hand still on the door handle.

"If you," Mrs. Black started, breathing heavily, "If you walk out that door, don't you dare come back."

"I don't plan to!"

He wrenched open the door, but did not walk out, for he heard a panicked voice yell,

"WAIT!"

"What now?!" he asked angrily.

His mother stared at him for a full ten seconds before saying in a quiet voice,

"If you walk out that door I'll blast you off the tapestry."

There was an awkward, ringing, silence. Sirius stared at the woman he'd once affectionately called 'mummy' for a whole minute. The he wrenched open the door wider, stepped out, and slammed it behind him. He stood on the porch of his once home, unmoving, almost petrified, listening. There was a shriek of agony from Mrs. Black, and great 'BANG!' and then Sirius was running, running like he never had before, until he couldn't feel it, and he kept running even after that, and he did not notice the brick in the middle of the sidewalk, a tripped, and fell flat on his face, and decided that he did not care.

Bridget sat cross legged on her bed, with tutor - no, her old tutor - Abigail, having tea. There was silence, but it wasn't that awkward stifling silence, it was a comfortable silence, and for that Bridget was grateful, because if it were any other silence she would start babbling on and on about nothing and end up embarrassing herself.

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"Are you excited?"

Bridget brings the tea cup to her lips, staring into the brown eyes of the woman she thinks of as an older sister.

"About Hogwarts?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

A silly grin forms on Bridget's face, her small white teeth shining. She giggles like a five year old, as she often does.

"Of course, of course!"

Abigail laughs. It is a rich sound, full of wisdom and life and love.

"Hogwarts is amazing," she says, "You'll love it."

Another five year old giggle escapes Bridget's lips.

"Oh, I know," she says, suddenly bubbly and alive and talkative, "and I can't wait to get sorted, and make friends, and go to class, and play with the Giant Squid, and- and- and..."

Bridget's eyes are shining as she goes on, and Abigail's rich laugh fills the room again. Bridget stops; breathing heavily as she does so, still smiling, and eyes still shining. There is silence in the room once again.

"I'll miss Shelley," Bridget says suddenly, "And you too."

There is a question lingering in Abigail's mind, but she knows better than to ask Bridget about her father, so she responds with,

"I will miss you as well."

She places a hand on Bridget's and Bridget sighs contentedly, her grin seemingly permanently etched on her face, and she feels like a eleven year old girl who just got her Hogwarts letter.

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James Potter could not sleep. It was ten thirty at night, and he was sitting at his kitchen table, thinking about werewolves, pranks, and Lily Evans. So it came as a surprise to him when someone started loudly knocking on the front door. Jumping up, he walked cautiously towards it, not daring to open it straightaway. These days, you never knew...

"Who's there?" he called.

"The great and wonderful Sirius Black!" said a familiar choked up voice, obviously trying to sound playful. He did not succeed.

James' eyebrows rose. What was his best friend doing, coming to his house in the middle of the night?

"Padfoot?" he called softly.

"James, please open the door!" Sirius' desperate voice came, abandoning its playful tone, "It's raining hard out here."

Immediately, James started to undo the locks on his door and let his best friend in. A shivering Sirius Black walked into the warm Potter household, and James gently guided him to a seat.

"Merlin, Padfoot," he said, eyeing the trunk, "What's going on?"

Sirius stared into his best friend's eyes for five, long, drawn out seconds, before falling to the floor and crying hysterically. James jaw dropped and he stared at Sirius with wide eyes, before coming to his senses and picking up his wet and hysterical friend off the floor.

James struggled with Sirius' weight as he trudged up the stairs with his best friend in his arms. He was really rather heavy...James stared down at his friend in concern and amusement as he continued to cry and blubber something about bricks and tapestries.

Finally reaching his room, James kicked open his ajar door and dumped Sirius on his bed. Sirius curled up into a little ball, no longer crying, but still babbling on about something. Sighing, James went downstairs to retrieve his trunk.

By the time he was back, Sirius was asleep.

James could sort of guess what was going on - Sirius had obviously run away from home. But what bricks and tapestries had to do with it, James had no idea.