Hello everyone! I have nearly finished edited Part One of the Bailey Black saga. I will be posting edited chapters once a week. After I have fully edited Parts One and Two, I will begin to post Part 3 (which currently has about six chapters written). Please bear with me through this process. And without further ado, Chapter One!

The Bike is Everything

Edited-2/3/17

It wasn't until Bailey reached Dublin that she realized someone was following her.

The Death Eaters hounding her should not have been a surprise. After all, she was a Slytherin, and most over the age of fifteen were asked at least once to join up (nearly all of the House knew that he was back, even if they didn't admit it to the public). She was a respected and well-liked Slytherin as well being an extremely talented Potioneer, the very top of her class—Professor Snape had taken her on as an apprentice. She was a rather good candidate for the Dark Mark.

Muttering words that would make her mum's hair curl, Bailey took the most convoluted route through the city, using the roads rather than the air, causing her to be over half-an-hour late. Amelia, who had been her best friend since first year, was never on the best of terms with her rich, Pureblood parents (a common problem among Slytherins). So, she lived with her older brother in his flat, of whom's lifestyle Amelia also did not fully approve.

Glancing both ways to make sure she had lost her less-than-friendly shadows, Bailey rapped on the door, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Mikey to open the door.

"Why hullo, my little leprechaun!" he exclaimed, grinning his usual playboy smile. "The other munchkins are in Amy's room waiting for you on pins and needles—you're late."

"Oh, shut your trap, Mikey," Bailey snapped. Mikey seemed to be slightly offended as he opened the door wider to allow her entrance.

"Good Merlin, does she have to PMS at the same time as 'Melia," he muttered. In response, Bailey muttered a Wedgie Hex (the Trace didn't work in his house, after all) and carried on her way to the baby pink door that said Amelia on it and walked in.

The inside of the room was a far cry from baby pink. Weird Sisters and Black Magician posters covered the dark purple walls, and a huge canopy bed draped in black occupied the center of the room. Despite looking rather punkish, the room still had an elegant air to it, much like its occupant. But, Bailey only had eyes for the three sitting on the black leather couches across from the door—her best friends, Amelia Blackwood, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini.

Amelia immediately ran over to Bailey and hugged her, causing much of Bailey's view of the room to be obstructed by a huge mass of red, curly hair. Behind her, Draco looked rather bored, though Bailey knew that he was pleased to see her.

No new bruises, thank Merlin, she thought to herself as she studied her pale friend.

Blaise, who was sitting next to Draco, looked torn between getting up and hugging her excitedly like Amelia was and playing it cool. Draco kept looking at him and smirking every time the darker boy seemed about to get up, so it looked as if "playing it cool" was winning.

"What took you so long?" Amelia finally exclaimed as she pulled away from Bailey. "Did that blasted motorbike crash?"

"No, o' course not," Bailey exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart dramatically. "Don' talk about her that way, you'll hurt her feelings!"

Amelia just rolled her eyes and motioned for Bailey to sit down before continuing her story. She promptly squeezed Draco out of his seat to spread her feet out over the couch that Blaise was sitting on, her feet in his lap. (Very few people in the world were able to get the Malfoy scion to move, and Bailey was very proud to call herself one of them.)

"Did you have some sort of farm emergency?" Draco drawled, obviously perturbed with having lost his seat. "Did you have to protect the sheep from lions or bears with your bare hands?"

"No, Draco," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"And even if that were it, that sure beats that peacock attack story you like to whip out on a moment's notice," Blaise quipped. Draco nervously fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt, as if to make sure his arms were completely covered.

"What did keep you?" Amelia said, trying to keep the group on track as she usually did at school. She was such a little Ravenclaw at times.

Bailey grabbed a chocolate biscuit off the plate on Amelia's ottoman before answering. "Some o' them were following me," she said.

It was as if a ghost had passed through the room and made it drop about ten degrees in temperature. Blaise gaped at her, mouth hanging wide open, while Amelia went paler than any ginger usually did, her freckles standing out spectacularly. Draco began to fidget with his shirt again and was, as usual, the first to break the silence.

"But you're a Mudblood."

Bailey fixed him with a glare. "That's not true, and yeh know it," she hissed.

"We may know it," he replied, gesturing to the other two. "But, to the Death Eaters, you may as well be Granger."

"Also not true," Amelia said. "After third year and it becoming known that Lupin is her godfather, anyone with half a brain would know that she is of Wizarding lineage."

"You're giving an awful lot of credit to the Death Eaters, Amelia," Blaise said. "I wouldn't imagine most of them having even close to half a brain, not if they're choosing him again, even after he was beaten by a two year old. He's got hardly any power anymore"

"Dangerous words," Draco warned darkly, before turning back to Bailey. "Just as it's dangerous to keep your father's identity hidden anymore, Bails. You need to claim your heritage. It's not safe not to, anymore. I doubt it was ever truly safe."

Before Bailey could tell Draco that he had less than half-a-brain, Amelia beat her to the punch.

"You're an idiot, Draco Malfoy," she said. "The Dark Lord has, on occasion, taken in a Muggleborn, so long as they are talented, which Bailey obviously is, as Snape took her on. So it's no safer on that front. And you're doubly stupid to think that the Ministry would be very kind to the daughter of a mass-murderer."

Bailey flinched at that comment.

"Do they know where you live, Bailey?" Blaise asked in a soft voice. Both Draco and Amelia looked at her, seeming to both be disturbed by such a possibility.

Bailey shrugged. "Dunno. My luck…"

"So much for the luck of the Irish," Blaise grinned, already laughing at their old joke.

"You know that you can't stay there if they know where you live," Amelia said. "It's not as if your farm is even a magical home—you'll have no protection if they decide to have a 'fun night'. And before you say anything, even with as good as you are, a not-even-fifth-year could not hope to stand up to a bunch of Death Eaters."

"But where would I go?" Bailey said. "Where would Mum go? It's more than just our home, Lia, it's our livelihood."

"You could move to Zabini Manor," Blaise said almost immediately. "We have plenty of room for some sheep. I mean, we've already got about twenty different breeds of horse, a couple of sheep wouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah, but Bailey would be married to you as soon as it comes out that she's the heiress to the Black fortune," Amelia scoffed. The tips of Blaise's ears turned red and he began studying the floor intently. Bailey, much to her dismay, felt her own cheeks coloring.

"What about Malfoy Manor?" Draco said.

Amelia sighed. "Dray, as it is very possible that your father was one of those chasing Bailey today, that would not be the wisest course of action. You should probably be thinking of moving in with one of us if you don't want to be entrenched in this war."

Everyone was silent again at that word. War was such an ugly word. But, they knew it was coming ever since the Quidditch Cup. The Slytherins had been watching for the signs of the Dark Lord's rising while the other houses were squabbling over Dumbledore's "surprise" at the beginning of last year.

Some surprise, Bailey thought scornfully, thinking of the boy who had been killed only a month prior. Even though he was only a Hufflepuff (albeit a cute one), Diggory's death had shaken even the most hardened of Slytherins.

"On that morbid note," Bailey said, standing up. "I should probably call me Da."

"But wouldn't Mikey notice if you used his fireplace to call him?" Blaise asked. Bailey only just managed not to roll her eyes.

"Yes, he would, dumbarse," she replied, a tad more viciously than she meant to. "I've got another way."

Bailey walked into Amelia's lavish bathroom, closing the door behind her. She pulled a small, compact mirror from her purse. The silver disk had been a present from her father the very first time that she met him. He, apparently, had a larger, wall-sized mirror to match hers.

"Da?" she called into the mirror. "Da, are yeh there?"

After a few moments, the face of convicted mass-murderer Sirius Black came into view. The first time that Bailey remembered seeing that face, it was thin and covered in dirt, the eyes so sunken in it seemed she was looking at a skull. But, now, her father's face had gained some color, and his features were not so sunken; one could tell that he had been a very handsome man a long time ago.

He frowned when he saw her worried face.

"You wrecked the bike, didn't you?" he asked immediately. Bailey rolled her eyes.

"Not everythin' is abou' the bike, Da," she grumbled. He put a hand over his heart, feigning shock.

"Not everything is about the bike?" he exclaimed. "Minnie, you can't talk about her like that! Her feelings are very sensitive!"

Bailey bit back a smirk. "Da, would you please be serious?"

"But I am Sir—"

"DA!"

"Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "What's wrong?"

Bailey quickly launched into her story before he could be sidetracked again. Her father became very serious (with an 'e'); in fact, he was now the one frowning in worry. She had never seen him act that way before. The little she had gotten to know him over the past year-and-a-half, her dad was a marauder, a jokester, not… worried. It scared her.

"Do they know where you and your Mum's house is?" he asked.

"Not sure," she said. "It's 'ard to find. I mean, it's not as if we are purposely trying to stay hidden, or anythin', but we do live out in the middle of nowhere."

That didn't seem to alleviate his worries.

"What about now?" he continued. "Do they know where you are now?"

"No, I managed to lose 'em once I got to Dublin. The bike handles very well, even on the ground," she said. "And I'm at a Wizard's house, me friend's brother's flat. So they shouldn't be able to find me, righ'?"

"Unless your friend is a Dea—"

Her father cut himself off when he noticed her glare. The fact that she was a very proud Slytherin, with many friends and plenty of influence within the House, had been somewhat of a sore spot with the only Gryffindor on the Black family tree. He had, of course, expected that she would follow in his red and gold footsteps. It had been a bit of a shock when he realized that she was instead in the House of the Serpents.

"Amelia's most definitely not a Death Eater, Da. Just because yeh're a Slytherin doesn' mean—"

"—that you're a Death Eater, just as being a Gryffindor doesn't make you a hero for the Light side," her father finished, his eyes darkening. "I know, Minerva. I learned that the hard way."

Bailey frowned, unknowingly making herself look even more like her father in that moment. Both had the same warm grey eyes, the same high aristocratic cheekbones, the same crease between their eyebrows when they frowned. The only difference in appearance was Bailey's softer face, and slightly lighter hair. It really was a wonder that no one had figured out that she was a Black.

"So, wha' do I do now?" she asked after a few moments. Her dad thought for a moment.

"I'll get Moony to come and get you and bring you back to Headquarters. You can stay here with me for the rest of the summer. But, until he gets there, stay put."

Bailey did her best to stifle the warm feeling growing in her stomach at the thought of actually living with her father. There were still details to sort out before she got her hopes up.

"What abou' Mum?" she asked. "As far as she knows, yeh're a mass murderer an' Tilly O'Bailey would sooner poke ou' 'er own eyes than let me live with you. And even if that wasn't the case, if it's not safe for me to live there, then it isn' fer her."

He sighed, eyes sorrowful. "I don't know right now. First things, let's get you here and safe, and then we'll worry about Tilly, okay?"

Bailey frowned, thinking of her rather overprotective mother. "Mum won't like being the last to know. At all," she warned her father. "She'll probably… well, it won't be pretty, Da."

"I'm doing the best I can, Minerva!" her dad finally snapped. At her shocked expression, for he had never raised his voice at her, the fugitive slumped. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, darling. Just tell me where you are, exactly, and I'll send Moony out to get you, alright?"

Bailey nodded. "I'm at Mikey Blackwood's 'ouse."

Her dad's eyes went wide as saucers. "This generation's me? Minerva Bailey Ann—"

"Bye Da!" she said quickly, cutting him off. "See yeh in a few!"

Bailey closed the compact quickly before her dad could get another word in.