Sirius Black and the Four Founders

By Lady Red

What is the Veil exactly? Sirius discovers this the hard way when he finds himself in the future as an 11 yr old and attending Hogwarts a second time with James Potter II. One thing's for certain, life sure has gone to the dogs.

Chapter Two

Hogwarts School of Witch Craft & Wizardry

Sirius was the first awake that morning, despite his rather disturbing night. Mrs. Thatcher found him on the front porch, basking in the morning sunshine along side the black cat that occasionally visited her garden. She'd never actually seen the animal up close before and was rather surprised to find it purring pleasurably under Sirius' skilful petting.

"There you are Harry. Would you like some breakfast?" she asked.

"Absolutely," said Sirius eagerly, bouncing up at the mention of food and sending the black cat sprawling. It gave Sirius a haughty glare, as if to say, that wasn't very nice brat. Sirius however, didn't see it as he hurried into the kitchen.

There was plate of bacon and eggs set out, still steaming as Sirius sat down. He tucked in eagerly and had to be reminded not to eat so quickly when he nearly choked a couple of times. Sirius slowed his pace by half a fraction of a second but the meal was still gone by the time Mrs. Thatcher sat down.

"Well someone was hungry," observed Mrs. Thatcher, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Starved actually," replied Sirius with a sheepish smile. "Say, does that cat actually have a name?"

"No, dear," answered Mrs. Thatcher. "I think its wild but it's never really come up to anybody before."

"Can I name it then?" asked Sirius.

"Well I don't see why not."

Sirius nodded and leaned back, a thoughtful look coming onto his face. He'd never named anything before – at least not that he knew of. He liked the idea of giving the cat a rather cool sort of name but 'Blackie' seemed to keep cropping up and obscuring his line of thought.

"How about George?" he ventured after a while.

Mrs. Thatcher considered it for a moment but shook her head. "No, much too boyish. It's a cat remember."

"What about Mittens?"

"Common as mud I'm afraid. It is your choice though."

"How about Thorm then?" Sirius finally suggested.

"I like it."

"Excellent!"

0-0-0-0-0-0

They left the house at half past nine, Thorm peacefully lapping at a bowl of milk on the front porch as they pulled out of the driveway. It was Sirius' first time in the 'car' and he had a hard time not gripping the dash every time Mrs Thatcher shifted up a gear or swung a little too hard around a corner. Eventually Sirius grew used to it but that didn't stop him grasping the side of the seat occasionally.

They pulled into town half an hour later and went straight to the post office to collect the mail. A tall, thin man with a grin so wide it looked like his face would split in half stood behind the counter as they entered. Sirius immediately disliked him with his wrists dangling out the end of his sleeves, the big mole on the side of his nose and his smoothed, oily hair which smoothed itself down against his scalp. He exuded an air of sleaziness which got right up Sirius' nose.

"Ah, Mrs. Thatcher! A pleasure to see you. I have a package here for you." He reached under the counter and pulled out a large parcel. Sirius immediately moved forward to take it but the man's eyebrow rose as his gaze fell on Sirius.

"Why Mrs. Thatcher, who's this?"

"This is my great nephew, Harry. Harry, this is Edgar Stewart."

"I didn't know you had a nephew," said Stewart, eyeing Sirius disdainfully. "Rather sullen looking but I suppose all the young ones are these days."

Sirius glared and snatched the parcel.

"Yeah well we can't all be perfect," he snapped.

"Really!" sniffed Stewart, giving Sirius an appalled stare.

Flushing with embarrassment, Mrs. Thatcher hastily bid Edgar Stewart a good day and left.

"My word Harry but you have got a sharp tongue at times," sighed Mrs. Thatcher once they reached the car.

"Well the slimy git asked for it," grumbled Sirius. He wasn't about to take back his words as Mrs. Thatcher unlocked the boot and Sirius carefully stowed the parcel.

"Well never mind. Edgar Stewart isn't one of the nicest people around but at least he does a good job."

Sirius shrugged but didn't comment as he followed Mrs. Thatcher into the shops. They stocked up on several items now that Mrs. Thatcher had Sirius to feed to and twenty minutes later they were once again back at the car.

"Alright, I'm going to go and get your adoption papers done. You can come with me if you like or spend the time exploring the town. Let's say you come back to the car in an hour and if I'm not here then I probably won't be far away," suggested Mrs. Thatcher.

"Yeah, that sounds alright," agreed Sirius. "It'd be nice to get a feel for the place."

"Alright then," said Mrs. Thatcher, shutting the boot with a bang.

"I won't be long so take care and Harry, if I'm going to adopt you I think a more appropriate name is in order. How about you call me Abigail?"

"Err…" answered Sirius. For some reason it just didn't sound right. "What about Aunt Abigail?" he asked.

"That'd be fine," answered Aunt Abigail with a smile.

"I'll see you soon."

"Alright," agreed Sirius.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Sirius spent the majority of the afternoon browsing through the shops. He discovered the little town was named Forres and was a pleasant enough place. The locals for the most part were friendly and Sirius found himself having to constantly answer who he was and where he was staying. He stuck with Aunt Abigail's lie about being her great nephew but knew it was only a matter of time before his adoption became public. He was most disturbed to learn that rumours had been circulating about someone picking up an unconscious boy and taking him in. There were all sorts of wild theories flying about and Sirius knew many people probably suspected it was him, despite what he had said. The truth however, would become apparent in time and Sirius supposed all that was left to do was deal with it when it happened.

He was back by the car half an hour early though. When all said and done, Forres was rather small and there wasn't all that much to see. 11:30 came and went however and by the time noon was ten minutes away, Sirius was starting to become anxious. He wished he had something to write with so he could leave a note and go looking. He didn't have anything however, so he lingered for another ten minutes and when Aunt Abigail still hadn't shown up, Sirius steeled himself and headed off in the same direction she had taken.

He hoped he'd run into her on the way but he saw no sign of Aunt Abigail. The further he went, the dingier the streets seemed to become. Sirius realized he was definitely in the poorer part of the town and he began to grow uneasy.

A scream suddenly broke through the air. In the previous quiet it echoed like a gunshot and Sirius took off without hesitation.

No further cry came and Sirius soon became disorientated in the maze of back streets. He searched desperately, hoping he hadn't imagined the scream and was close to howling in frustration when another muffled sob reached his ears.

Sirius took off once more, skidding wildly around a corner to finally find Aunt Abigail.

She was clearly hurt with her bruised face and battered form. Two men stood over, one jeering at her while the other tried to wrench away her handbag. Old Abigail though was hanging on valiantly, refusing to give up the bag.

The one trying to wrench it away swore at her and kicked her hard in the stomach. Aunt Abigail almost lost her grip but managed to hang on, tears streaming down her face.

Sirius lost it as he took in the scene. Never mind that these were two, full grown men – they were hurting the person that had rescued him and taken him into her own home, no questions asked!

Rage roared through Sirius and without even thinking, something seemed to snap inside of him. The two thugs looked up, as if sensing him and suddenly, the one who had hit his Aunt leapt up screaming. His clothing had burst into flame and the other only had a moment to stare dumbfounder at his friend before a huge gust of air whipped into him, sending him flying a good thirty feet and straight through a window.

Sirius barely even noticed. As far as he was concerned, the threat was taken care of as he moved over to help his Aunt.

He was rather shocked when his Aunt flinched away from him with a small whimper.

"Don't!" she pleaded.

"Just don't."

"But what did I do?" protested Sirius.

"I'm trying to help you!"

He reached down again to help his Aunt but she screamed and pulled herself away from him. The look of terror in her eyes as she stared at Sirius froze him to the core. Nobody had ever looked at him like that and to see it coming from the first person he had come to know and was beginning to – dare he say it – love? It hurt like nothing Sirius had ever believed possible.

"Just please, go away," whispered Aunt Abigail, no longer looking at Sirius.

Sirius could only nod numbly.

"Alright," he answered softly.

If she didn't want to see him again that was fine. Who was he to deny her?

Turning stiffly, Sirius walked away. He didn't dare look back but he knew he had just left his Aunt, injured and alone in a back street with no form of help. Sirius tried to remember anything she might have told him about what to do in an emergency but Sirius could think of nothing.

Eventually Sirius stumbled into a café, rattled off some sort of tale and sent the counter salesman hurrying out the door before he slipped away.

Sirius walked for a long time, out into the country side and away from the little village of Forres. Sirius didn't know where he was heading and he didn't particularly care. He was alone now, tossed out to fend for himself. It seemed rather absurd for an eleven year old to be 'tossed out' but to Sirius, it began to seem the most natural thing to do. The more he thought about it, the more he realised he shouldn't have done that in front of his Aunt. Something was telling him it was wrong to do such things in front of people like her but what exactly had he done wrong?

It couldn't have been the violence; he had merely been defending his Aunt. When it came down to it, Sirius had to conclude that the fire and the wind had been the cause of it. Apparently such abilities – no wait – magic was impossible but Sirius knew it wasn't. It had come totally naturally to him, like he had always known. Could that be the key? Was he actually from another world?

Sirius was so lost in though he didn't notice he was no longer alone.

"Ah, here you are Mr Thatcher."

Sirius halted, his head coming up with a jerk. A tall, red headed man was standing in front of him. Horn rimmed glasses were perched on the edge of his nose and Sirius guessed he was probably in his late thirties. He wore a strange set of lime green robes which clashed horribly with his bright red hair. The man was completely out of place and Sirius had to wonder what he was doing all the way out here.

"Been looking for you for nearly an hour you know," he said.

He eyed Sirius up and down a bit and then seemed to shake his head to himself.

"Err, excuse me. But what do you want?" asked Sirius.

"Why Mr Thatcher, I'd have thought that was obvious. You just performed magic in front of a muggle," explained the man.

'A muggle?' wondered Sirius. Did he mean Mrs. Thatcher?

"It's unusual for such an occurrence to happen so late in life but not unheard of. Thus, I am here to invite you to Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. My name is Percy Weasley and I'm the current Headmaster. You however, may call me Professor Weasley or even just Professor. School will be beginning next week so I think it only appropriate that I take you back to the school with me. I will send someone to fetch your school supplies from Diagon Ally," explained Professor Weasley.

"Sorry, not interested," answered Sirius bluntly.

Professor Weasley looked at him strangely, not quite sure he'd heard correctly. It was true though, Sirius really wasn't interested. Magic had pushed Aunt Abigail away. Why would he want to learn any more of it?

"Well I'm afraid I can't accept your answer," sniffed Weasley, looking rather offended.

"Leaving magic untrained and unchecked is a foolish thing to do. No doubt you'll end up blowing yourself up or something rather unfortunate in a few years time."

"Look! I don't want to go," growled Sirius.

"If you're worried about Mrs. Abigail Thatcher then you needn't be," answered Weasley disdainfully.

"What?" asked Sirius, caught off guard.

"She has been patched up by the school nurse and her memory modified. Since she is now your guardian when you return home at the end of the year you will stay with her until it comes time for the next school year to begin. Now Mr. Thatcher, will you come with me? I have other more pressing matters to deal with and I don't need to be dallying here all day with you."

"Alright," Sirius relented. He wasn't exactly sure what he was getting himself into but what choice did he have? Besides, the prospect of a magical school sounded rather exciting.

With a sheepish grin, Sirius took hold of Weasley's arm, as instructed but not quite sure what to expect. Blackness suddenly dropped around his senses and Sirius had to fight the urge to struggle as something seemed to squeeze him on all sides. It was over as quickly as it had begun but Sirius flopped down woozily once his feet hit the ground. It was the oddest sensation he'd ever experienced and he had to admit he rather wished they travelled in Aunt Abigail's old, rickety car rather then, what was it? Side-along-appar-something? Whatever it was, Sirius had found it highly unpleasant and had no wish to repeat the procedure.

"Alright come along Mr Thatcher. We have a walk ahead of us now so no need to stand about gawping."

Professor Weasley took off with a long stride through the streets.

Sirius glanced around, surprised that the entire scenery had changed as he followed after the Professor. Others, who were dressed similarly to Professor Weasley in robes walked along the streets, going about their business. They didn't at all seem surprised that Professor Weasley and Sirius had just appeared within their midst. Sirius spotted an array of all sorts of unusual things being carried under their arms from caged animals like owls and cats to scrolls, foods and a rather large book which began to hiss any time it got to close to someone other then it's owner. Sirius stared, rather fascinated and kept having to be told to hurry up each time he stopped to look at something unusual.

"Err, Professor? Where are we exactly?"

"Hogsmede. It's about a twenty minute walk from the castle. Hogwarts has anti-apparation wards on it to prevent people apparating inside the school grounds. In the past Hogwarts has often been a sanctuary in wartime but I suppose you'll hear all about that once the term begins."

"I guess," answered Sirius. He hated to admit it but he was becoming rather curious about this school. He highly suspected however, that the pompous Headmaster probably wouldn't want to answer the endless stream of questions burning on the tip of Sirius' tongue.

Eventually they left the streets of Hogsmede Village behind and began the climb up the gently sloping track towards Hogwarts. Sirius couldn't see the castle through the stands of conifer trees but occasionally he caught a glimpse of the soaring turrets in the distant. The few glimpses were enough to make him hasten his pace and keep up with the tall Headmaster.

Finally they broke through the trees and it was like stepping out into a fairy tale. The castle soared above them, reaching up into the clear blue skies. Sirius stared, awestruck at the size of the place. Professor Weasley didn't wait though and after several seconds gazing, Sirius tore himself away and sped after the Professor.

They walked through an enormous set of iron gates and across a vast stretch of grass. A huge lake glistened on the eastern side of the school grounds and on the other side stood a dark and rather forbidding looking forest. It looked so sinister and murky beneath the trees that Sirius decided immediately that if there was one place he was going to avoid, it would be that forest.

Professor Weasley caught his gaze. "That's the Forbidden Forest," he said. "I wouldn't go wandering in there unless you want the centaurs to shoot you on sight."

"Centaurs?" queried Sirius worriedly.

"Half man, half horse. They're intelligent and powerful creatures not to mention expert archers. You'd be dead before you even saw them."

Sirius shuddered at the thought but dutifully followed the Professor. They swept up the steps and through the huge oak doors and into an expansive foyer. Sirius was beginning to feel rather dwarfed and insignificant with the size of the place. It was as if the entire magnitude of the castle was meant to make you feel like nothing more than a speck of dirt that had no right to be intruding upon its grandness.

Professor Weasley on the other hand, didn't slow his pace as he made his way up stairways, twisted through corridors and rooms and stepped through doors Sirius didn't even realise were there at times. He felt hopelessly lost within five minutes and quite sick with each twist and turn. Several unusual and obviously magical things kept happening to. There were suits of armour in one corridor which lunged at you and tried to hug you if you got to close. They ran afoul of a creature which Professor Weasley explained was a gnome. The dratted little thing knocked Sirius off his feet before he saw it and ran, cackling with laughter into the shadows. The paintings were the most unnerving thing of all. The people in them moved about and ogled at him in a manner which made him feel most uncomfortable. Sirius couldn't put a finger on what it was about him and it seemed, neither could the paintings. They muttered and whispered amongst themselves, pointing Sirius out to there comrades.

Finally, Professor Weasley stopped in front of a large painting. Puffing, Sirius came to a halt beside the Professor who didn't seem the least bit out of breath.

"Here we are," he announced.

"Phobes," said Professor Weasley.

The painting, which was of a large, balding man, grunted and suddenly swung inwards before Sirius' dumbstruck eyes.

"Remember the password," said Professor Weasley to Sirius as he stepped into the room.

Sirius followed him and found himself in a rather small but neat room. There was a poster bed pressed up against the wall near the door. The doona was a deep blue which matched the curtains hanging around the window next to the bed. Against the far wall were a desk and a tall wardrobe. It was a rather cosy sort of room and Sirius was pleased to see no sign of any paintings within the room.

"This room is used for guests occasionally. You'll stay here until the school term begins of Sunday night. After that, you'll be sorted into one of the school houses which are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. You can wander around the castle if you like but you may find it hard to get back here so I'd advise not venturing to far. Hogwarts is a big place and it's quite easy to get lost before you learn your way around the place," explained the Professor.

Sirius nodded. He could handle that at least and he didn't have any intention of going very far. If he was expected to attend school then he was sure he'd learn the way soon enough.

"You'll eat your meals here," continued Professor Weasley. "I'll also have the house elves bring you up some new clothing," he added, eyeing Sirius' now rather grimy attire.

"That'd be great. Thanks Professor," mumbled Sirius awkwardly.

"That's quite all right," replied Professor Weasley neutrally.

With a sharp click, the Professor turned on his heel and swept out of the room. The portrait creaked shut behind him and Sirius finally found himself alone.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The remainder of the day slipped away rather slowly. Sirius soon grew bored in his little room, despite his lengthy brooding session at first. Even that however, couldn't keep him occupied for long and by the time the house elves appeared late in the afternoon, Sirius was almost glad of the company despite the rather unnerving appearance of the little creatures. What they lacked in beauty they made up for in eagerness.

They primped and pressed and fussed over Sirius' new clothes and him as they fitted him, chattering away animatedly about this and that. None of it made much sense to Sirius although something interesting did come up towards the end of the conversation.

Sirius had only been half listening when he suddenly realised what one of them had said.

"Wait – did you say Harry Potter?"

"Of course sir!" chirped one which Sirius had learned was called Dobby. He was rather well dressed compared to his fellows with several layers of socks on his feet and hanging off his ears. He had three, rainbow coloured scarves wound around his knobbly neck and was wearing a ridiculous pink cardigan with bright purple pompoms on it.

"Harry Potter is only the greatest wizard to have ever lived. Why he defeated the Dark Lord when he was only seventeen Sir and Dobby is proud to say he has meet Harry Potter Sir," squeaked the house elf excitedly.

"Really?" replied Sirius curiously.

For some unknown reason, the name was setting off warning bells in Sirius' mind. Could this be his Harry? The one that was important enough that despite everything, he remembered his name?

Sirius didn't know and continued to think quietly for the rest of the fitting, ignoring the house elves as they moved on and began talking about Professor Weasley and a few other teachers that apparently taught at Hogwarts.

Sirius quietly said goodbye to them when they left and then flopped down on his bed, not caring that he was now crinkling his new red shirt and black trousers.

So Harry Potter was a famous wizard huh? That definitely had to be it then decided Sirius. He must have been a wizard before all this mess but he couldn't be certain that was entirely true. He definitely had no proof this was his Harry and when the familiar headache began to set in, Sirius dropped the thought and before he even realised it, he had fallen fast asleep.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Sirius woke up late the next morning, his stomach growling for food and momentarily forgetting where he was. It all came rushing back to him though, the instant he took in the sight of his room and remembered Professor Weasley.

Jumping out of bed, he hurried over to the window and flung it open. The glorious grounds of Hogwarts stretched out before him, the dew on the grass sparkling in the morning sunlight. Sirius was pleased to note he'd been given a room on the right side of the castle and beyond the grass stretched the vast lake as the sun rose above it. It made for a rather spectacular sight which Sirius drank in greedily.

Shutting the window and still grinning, Sirius noticed a plate of eggs, sausages, toast and baked beans had been laid out for breakfast on his desk while he slept. It was still steaming as Sirius took a seat and hungrily tucked in.

After breakfast, Sirius peeled off his rumpled clothing and took a quick shower in a small bathroom connected to his rooms. He settled on a brilliant green shirt this time and a similar pair of trousers as he got dressed. Ready at last to face the day, Sirius grabbed a black hooded jacket, tugged on a pair of joggers and headed out into the hallways of Hogwarts. It was difficult to remember the way but after some directions from a particularly friendly portrait of an old lady, Sirius finally found his way back outside.

He immediately set off around to the right hand side of the castle towards the distant shores of the lake. He skipped a few stones for awhile once he arrived but soon grew tired of that and looked around for something else to do.

Sirius was rather surprised to notice a rather huge structure sitting further up on a hill and around behind the back of the castle. He hadn't noticed it before but it was so large that Sirius, rather curious about the strange looking building, set off towards it.

As he drew nearer he began to hear shouts of laughter and a strange, whooshing sound. It took Sirius a good five minutes following the outer wall to find the entrance to the building but once he did locate it, he quickly hurried into the darkness, his curiosity burning like a small ball of fire in his chest.

Sirius stepped out onto a large expanse of grass. He frowned though, when he saw no one and it wasn't until he heard an exuberant whoop that Sirius looked up and gasped. He'd finally found the source of the noise as he spotted four people up in the sky, nearly seventy metres above his head. They were all riding broomsticks of all things; ducking and weaving, performing barrel rolls and loops as they spiralled through the air.

It appeared to be a game of two on two and Sirius was amazed to see Professor Weasley was one of the players. His face was set in a grim mask, his knuckles white as he gripped his broom tightly. He looked like he wished he was else where but he was refusing to give up just the same, despite being so uncomfortable. Professor Weasley was certainly not a confident flyer.

His companions on the other hand, looked born to it. There were two boys Sirius' age flying above and the third was another adult who looked a few years younger than Professor Weasley and could easily be the Professor's brother. His face however, was filled with exhilaration in comparison to the Professor's and of them all, he was clearly an experienced player and miles ahead of his playing companions.

He was partnered with one of the younger ones: a red haired boy who seemed to know what he was doing. Professor Weasley's partner however, looked like a natural. He was quite small and a bit on the skinny side but that didn't stop him from making up for where Professor Weasley fell down. His black hair whipped back against his scalp as he rocketed from one end of the field to the other. For the moment it looked like a game of keep-it-off as a funny shaped red ball was passed between partners only to eventually be snatched away and the rules reversed.

Sirius watched in rapt attention, shielded in the shadow of the entrance before something rather small and hard crashed into the back of his legs.

Down Sirius went with a yelp as the little gnome from yesterday disappeared into the shadows, cackling madly with laughter. There was a loud rattle and then it began throwing things out of the darkness at Sirius. Several red balls hit him in the head and a rather heavy chest smacked into the back of his knees as he scrambled forwards.

Unfortunately for the gnome, he threw a broomstick at Sirius which narrowly missed gouging his left eye. The broom hit Sirius in the shoulder instead and as soon as Sirius laid eyes on it, he felt a plan beginning to form.

Grinning recklessly, Sirius leapt up and dodged the barrage of objects as he made his way towards the gnome, the broom grasped firmly in his hand. There was only one thing on Sirius' mind and that was revenge.

The gnome hissed at Sirius from its hiding place as he closed in. He ignored it though and finally managed to locate the unpleasant little creature. His first attempt to grab it nearly resulted in a few lost fingers but the gnome stupidly turned away, intending to make a break for it and this time, Sirius grabbed it by one of its legs.

Up it came, kicking and howling. Sirius was sure if it could talk that it would be spitting curses at him as he clutched it by one, fat ankle.

Feeling triumphant, Sirius mounted his broom and took off without a second thought. Flying was just as good as he'd dreamed it would be. Up he soared, shooting past the thunderstruck Professor Weasley, the gnome still struggling in his grip. It was letting out little shrieks of fear now but Sirius didn't care. The loathsome little creature had had it coming as far as he was concerned.

He reached the three large hopes he'd seen from the ground at the far end of the pitch and pulled up sharply. The broom obeyed his command a little more abruptly then he'd expected and Sirius nearly flew off his broom as a result but managed to maintain his grip.

"Right you little feral," he growled.

Reaching up one handed, Sirius pulled the cord from his hooded jacket and tied one end around the gnome's ankle that he clutched. The other end he tied to the apex of the tallest hoop and then he flew back several metres to admire his handiwork. The little gnome swayed gently in the breeze, screaming and shaking its tiny fists in rage at him. Sirius laughed at the commercial site and swooped back down to the grassy field, still struggling to contain snorts of laughter. The gnome looked like a spec now, dangling utterly helpless from the hoop above him. It was the best thing Sirius had seen in days.

He grinned, mentally congratulating himself.

"Oi!"

Sirius jumped and whirled around. The four players had landed and the red haired man Sirius didn't know was marching towards him, his broom slung over his shoulder. He didn't exactly look cross but nor did he looked pleased either.

Sirius felt his grin fading away as he watched them approach. The two boys followed after and Professor Weasley brought up the rear. He was shooting Sirius a disapproving glare but the boys seemed to be caught between laughing and whispering curiously to one another as they approached.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked the man, coming to a halt in front of him. He had a smattering of freckles across his face and wore a brown cap, from beneath which tufts of red hair flicked up in all directions. At any other time, Sirius thought the man might have been amused but his little retribution seemed to have upset him for some reason.

"You do realise you just tied Booger to the goal post don't you?"

"Yeah I do," answered Sirius. His tone came out a little sullen and he wished he hadn't sounded quite so disrespectful.

"That little monster had it coming though," Sirius defended himself.

"That's the second time in two days I've been minding my own business and it's knocked me over…Sir," he added as an after-thought.

"Well everyone knows Booger's a pest but what'd you expect? It's a gnome, it's what they do."

"Well actually George," interrupted Professor Weasley. "Harry here didn't know. He's muggle born and he'll be starting school on Monday with all the other first years. Although I must say Harry, it was dangerous of you to get on a broom like that. You could easily have fallen and killed yourself."

"I guess so Sir," replied Sirius. He personally didn't think so though. Riding a broom was easy – like he'd been doing it all his life. Sirius didn't really believe it was possible he could fall.

"Look Harry, just wait here a minute. George and I will pack up. These are our nephews, Hugo Weasley and James Potter. They'll keep you company for a minute. Won't you boys?"

Professor Weasley shot the two boys a severe look. Hugo and James smiled guiltily, looking like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. They affirmed the Professor's wishes and with one last glance, Professor Weasley turned away, back in his element now that his feet were on the ground. George, who could only be the Professor's younger brother, mounted his broom and kicked off, circling upwards to where little Booger hung, suspended by his ankle.

"So," said Hugo, breaking Sirius' line of thought. "You're Harry huh?"

"Err, yeah," replied Sirius' coming back to reality. "Harry Thatcher."

"Geez you're lucky you know," piped up James.

Sirius frowned, not sure what James was getting at.

"Harry – you know. Harry Potter?" prompted James.

"Oh right," said Sirius. "Yeah I heard about him. He's some famous wizard or something isn't he?"

"Not just any, he's my Dad and the greatest of all," announced James, his chest puffing out ridiculously.

Behind James, Sirius saw Hugo roll his eyes and sigh. It was apparently a common occurrence.

"You should be proud to have the same name as him. I got named after my grandfather but it would have been cooler if I'd had my Dad's name."

"Wouldn't people get you mixed up though?"

"Nope," answered James. "My Dad's got his Mum's eyes. Only Albus got those. They're such a bright green there's no way to confuse us and I'm a couple of inches bigger then my Dad ever was at this age."

"You have a brother?" asked Sirius beginning to get a little confused.

"Yeah and a sister. James pulled a rather disgusted face. Albus is a real book worm and Lily's just a tattle tale. You can't get away with anything around her."

"James loves pranking," explained Hugo, still looking rather put out by his cousin's behaviour.

Sirius nodded, only half listening. A strange buzzing had steadily been growing in the back of his mind. It was getting louder and louder as Sirius' vision began to narrow. He was still looking at James and James kept on talking, not noticing that Sirius was beginning to sway ever so slightly.

He could hear a voice, so similar to James and it was like he was looking at James and yet not him. There were subtle differences and then suddenly, the boy turned and smiled at Sirius.

"Hey, Sirius! Come on, you know what McGonagall's like. If we don't hurry up we'll get detention to see us through until Christmas."

James laughed and turned away. Suddenly, darkness was swamping Sirius. Vaguely he felt his body crumple. He could smell the cool grass against his face and feel someway shaking him. They were calling out a name, it sounded like Harry but Sirius knew that wasn't his name.

The last thing Sirius remembered was the feeling of arms scooping him up and then everything faded away as unconsciousness took him.


Author's Note: Wow! I hated writing that but I loved reading it. Thanks so much for the reviews last chapter but for those of you who just whacked me on 'Author Alert,' I'd love to hear from you. It was so disappointing to get all these emails and learn that the majority of them were just alerts of some form or another. I'd love to hear what you all have to say about this so please drop me a line. Cheers!

Sneak Peak: Let the school year begin! After Sirius' little fainting spell, things progress quickly as students begin to arrive and Sirius finds himself wondering where he'll be sorted. The word is out and apparently Gryffindor is the place to be and you might as well pack up and go home if you land in Slytherin. For Sirius, life will never be the same. And what's this? What ever could the Sorting Hat mean?