Throughout the entire meal, James kept casting furtive glances over at Sirius. Sirius felt each one but ignored them. He knew James would manage to get the whole story out of him, but he figured he needed to build up his strength for a story like this, so he kept shoveling in every bite Mrs. Potter offered him. When the food finally ran out and Mrs. Potter turned away to supervise the dishes cleaning themselves in the sink, James casually said, "Oi, Sirius, want to go practice Quidditch in the yard?"

"Sure," Sirius said slowly, getting to his feet. "Thanks for the food, Mrs. Potter," he said, and she turned, smiling.

"Oh, you're very welcome, dear. See you boys later."

For the first time, James's father looked over his copy of the Daily Prophet.

"You're practicing Quidditch?" he asked with a slight frown. James nodded, and he said quietly, "Ok, but make sure you fly low. We don't want to attract any unnecessary attention." He rattled the newspaper for emphasis and shook his head, going back to the latest article about mysterious disappearances. Sirius suddenly understood why he hadn't said a word since they'd sat down to eat. He was worried and, from living in his own house, he knew he had good reason. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse.

James and Sirius trudged outside, grabbing brooms from the wall as they went. But as Sirius swung his leg awkwardly over his own, silently cursing James for being so good at something in which he, for some inexplicable reason, had VERY little skill, he looked up to see James just staring at him.

"Feel like telling me what the hell's going on?" he asked bluntly.

Sirius let his leg fall back to the ground, almost relieved to tell James what had happened if it meant he wouldn't be forced to make a fool of himself on this broom.

"Yeah," he said, "but it's bad. I'm warning you."

"Ok…" James said slowly, sitting at the picnic table his parents kept outside to maintain the ruse of being muggles. Sirius sat at the other end of the bench and, staring down at his lap, began to talk.

"Well, you know what my brother's been doing, right? I told you?"

James nodded, an expression of disgust flitting across his face.

"Anyone hear from him?" he asked, his voice surprisingly neutral.

"Well, that's the thing," Sirius said slowly, unsure of how the words would sound once they were out of his mouth. "Regulus came home. He … he tried to get me to go with him. When I said I wouldn't, my mother had a fit. You know how she is. She told me I wasn't fit to be her son, which is fine, because I don't belong there anyway. But Regulus… well, I don't know how much he believes in this anymore anyway. He asked me to come, but he seemed pretty content to take no for an answer."

"So… so what's the problem?" James asked, confused.

Sirius finally looked up, and James was unsurprised to see the customary bitter look he adopted whenever he talked about his family.

"What do you think happened? She figured out that Reg isn't so into this anymore, but whose fault would that be? Mine, of course. So… I left. I can't stay there anymore. I don't belong in that family. I know she agrees." He stared down at his lap again.

James didn't bother trying to argue. He just said, "So I guess you'll have to stay here then."

Sirius looked up quickly, and James saw immediately that, even though he'd never admit it, he'd been worried that James wouldn't know he was supposed to say that. But he needn't have worried. There was no other option, and James knew that. He knew his parents would too. He was just afraid of what this might do to Sirius down the line.

"Let's go back inside and talk to my parents," he said with forced cheer, and they walked back inside, dropping the brooms by the door.

The Potters were sitting in the living room reading, and James stuck his head in the doorway.

"Mum? Dad? Can we talk to you about something?"

"Sure, honey," Mrs. Potter said, gesturing for her husband to put down the Daily Prophet, which he did, raising his eyebrows at her.

The boys sat on the couch, facing the two chairs where James's parents sat, waiting.

"Well, the thing is," Sirius started and then stopped. He didn't know why, but the words wouldn't come out this time. Maybe it was because he was unaccustomed to having parents actually listen to him, but the words seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked at James, hoping he'd take the hint without asking why. Fortunately, these two often communicated without words and James smoothly picked up the story, explaining the fight Sirius had with his mother but neglecting to mention all of the details. He didn't need to give any, though. The Black family wasn't exactly anonymous, and the Potters knew it was only a matter of time until Sirius would reach his breaking point. They couldn't turn him away. He stood for everything they believed in, and now he didn't have a home.

"We'll be happy to have you stay with us," Mr. Potter said before his wife could even get the words out, and James, Sirius and Mrs. Potter all looked at him in surprise. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it was because he thought it was important. They all knew this, and the knowledge that he had a place to call home made Sirius swallow hard. James didn't notice, but Mrs. Potter did. She sighed. As much as she knew this boy would pretend he couldn't care less... it was clear that he did.