"Give 'em back, Sirius!"
"Come and get them!"
"You f-" Sirius grinned as he heard a heavy thumping noise, immediately followed by an irritated "oomph!" It was now the eleventh time James had fallen over something.
"You all right?" Sirius shouted over his shoulder, not bothering to slow his pace.
"Give me my glasses, Sirius, you prat!" James screamed, jumping out of nowhere and tackling him. Sirius was taken completely by surprise, leaving James the perfect opportunity to steal back his glasses. He snatched them away, looking haughty as he place them neatly on his nose. "How do I look?" He sounded honestly concerned.
"Stunning," Sirius muttered sarcastically, whipping a crumpled scrap of parchment out of his pocket. He tapped his chin. "Hmm… so that makes it… Sirius: 5, James, 1."
"No!" James protested, trying to grab the parchment and quill out of Sirius's hands. "I have two points; I totally got you that one time!"
"Poppycock," Sirius replied calmly, sticking his nose up in the air.
"I did so!"
"Nonsense, my good sir, it can't be."
"Yes, I did! I swear-!"
"If you're talking about the time you stepped on my foot-"
He broke off suddenly as James elbowed him hard in the ribs; Sirius choked with laughter, doubling over. He'd never felt this happy before, at least, not for a long time…
Seeing his distracted, James struck. He ripped the parchment from Sirius's grasp and jogged forward a few paces, making faces and dancing tauntingly. Sirius tried his hardest to make a disapproving face, he really did, but he just doubled over again, chuckling even harder. "You look stupid," he chortled, hugging his sides; they ached.
James was grinning so widely his face looked like it was threatening to split open. Then he froze, with that crazed grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Sirius thought he looked quite creepy, to be honest. If possible, James's grin got even wider.
"Come and get me!" he finally hollered, turning round and rushing down the corridor again. Abruptly, Sirius jumped up and sped after him.
Sirius felt better than he ever had in his entire life. For once, he had a friend - a friend who he could joke with, play pranks with, laugh about everything with. They wouldn't discuss history or family trees or what they had eaten for supper the past few nights."Broccoli, and something boring," Sirius would always say. His family... didn't like to understand him. And that was an understatement. Pure-blood maniacs they were, power-hungry spoiled brats. How they hated him. How they despised him. It was like an obsession, always finding something wrong in whatever he did, whether it was talking or eating or even sleeping. Always he seemed to bring disgrace to the noble and most Ancient House of Black.
He had tried to bring honor to his family many times, many, many times - but he had failed miserably, all because his mother and father absolutely hated him. The worst of the Blacks, an inhuman snobbish swine who deserved to be boiled in frog spawn... Sirius had heard it all. Recently, he had just given up with trying to impress his parents and decided to try and make their lives as miserable and as uncomfortable as possible. He wanted to embarrass them, he wanted them to make public fools of themselves. He enjoyed seeing the look of disgust on their faces whenever he played a prank, he enjoyed the gasp of horror when he introduced them to his "Mudblood friend." It was his favourite pastime, a mere hobby, now that he did it so often. He wished he could make a living off of it.
Up ahead of him, James was slowing a bit. Sirius grinned. James was fast, but not exactly aware. Sirius could just tackle him now, and James wouldn't know before it hit him. But James sprinted faster... Sirius did also... they were approached a corner...
"Oomph!" James yelled suddenly,flying out in front of Sirius tumbling head over heels. He had veered right sharply, apparently smashing into the door of a compartment with the sheer speed of a bullet. Sirius followed suit, smashing head-first into the glass and bouncing back. He tumbled right over James and slammed straight up against the opposite side of the corridor, so that he landed on his head with his feet in the air. He heard himself groan, and brought a hand up (or down?) to his head. His vision was swimming, but he managed to glimpse James smirking down at him.
"That's four more points for me, at least," he declared, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
"Is not," Sirius grumbled from his place on the floor.
Helping Sirius upright, James stated, "Well - we found an empty compartment."
Sirius squinted. Everything was still hazy. He shook his head a couple of times and looked again.
James was right; the compartment was nearly empty. Nearly. Leaning up against the glass facing the hall was a boy about their age, although Sirius thought he looked younger. He was smaller than either of them, and about an inch shorter. He was also fast asleep. He has to be, Sirius thought. He and James had crashed into the same window the boy was leaning against. He hadn't moved at all.
James spoke first. "I think he's dead." His voice sounded oddly hollow.
Sirius suddenly found himself aghast. He could only imagine what his cousins would do if they found him standing over a dead body. They would probably congratulate him on murdering a wizard with blood-status unworthy of Hogwarts.
He felt his eyes widen with panic. He was thinking like a Black!
Stubbornly, he cleared his mind and advanced towards the door of the compartment, tugging it open slightly. He half-expected the boy to fall lifelessly onto the floor, proving James right. However, he was relieved to see the boy stir a bit and turn to rest his chin on his grinned over his shoulder. "Not dead," he chuckled lightly. "That's another point for me, I guess."
James hit him.
They dashed into the compartment, fighting for a few minutes for the window seat, before realizing that they could both get the window seat if they just sat opposite of each other. But James declared loudly that he'd rather sit beside his friend, and surrendered the window seat over to Sirius. Sirius took it, grinning broadly.
"You know, surrender is a sign of weakness," Sirius said, pretending to be cross.
"Aw, shove off," James said a bit louder, almost yelling, staring at the sleeping boy with wide eyes.
Sirius felt a little alarmed. "Uh, you feel alright mate?"
"Are you sure he's not dead?" James muttered admittedly, gesturing towards the boy. "I mean, he hasn't woken up yet. And I'm practically shouting." James looked hurt. "Everyone wakes up when I'm shouting - at least, that's what my mum says."
"My mum says something a bit stronger," Sirius murmured darkly. Furtively, he took the parchment with their tally of points and crumpled it up into a ball a little smaller than his hand. He tossed it gently at the boy. It was well-aimed; it smacked him lightly in the face and neatly landed in his lap. This time, the boy didn't stir. Sirius frowned.
"He's either dead or a real heavy sleeper," he said, exchanging concerned looks with James (James looked more fascinated than concerned).
"How old is he, do you reckon?" James said quietly. "He can't be our age, can he?"
Sirius gazed out the window, not really paying attention "I expect he's younger," he said, picking at his cuticles.
James elbowed him. "No, look. He has grey hair."
Sirius was startled; he almost shut his fingers in the window. What a random thing to say. The boy couldn't have grey hair. Sirius was convinced that you couldn't get grey hair until you were at least fifty. How could a boy their age, older, or younger have grey have just yet? He was about to tease James for ever suggesting something that ridiculous - when he noticed. Sunlight was streaming through th polished window, illuminating the seemingly dim compartment. The sun it up the boy's face and hair... he had grey hair. Not completely. In fact, not much at all. Just in certain places, and just at the roots. Still, Sirius as astounded. Even a little scared.
James, meanwhile, was jumping up and down in his seat energetically. "Maybe he's a Metamorphmagus!" he whispered excitedly.
Sirius doubted it. The boy looked very weak and frail, and looked incapable of even being a Metamorphmagus (a witch or wizard that could change their appearance), much less able to do magic at all. He looked like he would collapse under the weight of his wand.
Sirius voiced his thoughts to James, who leaned forwards and scanned the boy up and down. "I reckon he could do with some food," he began uneasily. "He looks about ready to keel over."
Sirius noted this. James was right once again. He practically could count all the bones in the boy's hands. But he felt himself scowl. "I'm not facing that witch with the food cart - she'll just scream at us again," he said, making a face.
James frowned. "Well, we-"
"Cauldron Cakes," Sirius pointed out.
"Wha - oh, yeah!" James exclaimed, remembering his suitcase almost bursting with pastries abandoned in the middle of the corridor. "Hold on; I'll get some." And with that, he left, slamming the compartment door shut, leaving Sirius alone with the boy.
Sirius frowned, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He felt like he should say something. But what to say? It wasn't like anyone could hear him. So he examined the boy sitting far away from him, snoring lightly with his chin on his chest. Vaguely, Sirius found himself wondering. There was something... rather odd about this boy. And it wasn't just his starved look or greyish hair. It was his air - some sort fo aura that seemed to surround him. Almost like a sense of danger.
Instinctively, Sirius felt himself tense, like he expected the boy to attack. He'd seen this sort before around Grimmauld Place - wizards and witches who used helplessness as a disguise, then, suddenly and silently, they would strike, with violence and viciousness quite unknown to wizard-kind. Sirius found himself edging away from the boy now. Angrily, he scolded himself. There was no reason for this. Why was he so prejudice?
Isn't it obvious? A nasty little voice whispered in his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother. You're a Black.
Sirius saw his hands close into tight fists. How he wished he wasn't how he wished that he wasn't even related to them... Despicable they were, pure-blood maniacs, snobbish, gaudy prats...
The voice interrupted You can't leave. It cackled evilly. You will always be a Black.
"No!" Sirius heard himself yell. He launched himself forwards, punching anything he could reach. He could feel his fury rising; he always had had a short temper, he just couldn't stand it anymore! He wouldn't listen to her, not anymore, she was wrong, she was wrong-!
Abruptly, through the blur of his own flailing fists, Sirius saw a very pale and scarred hand lash out and grab his wrist in an unusually firm grip.
"I was just asking what you were doing," came a quiet voice
Bewildered, Sirius stared. The boy sitting opposite him had woken, and was gazing over at Sirius with a combination of curiosity and alarm. Now Sirius was convinced that the boy as older than him, he had to be, at least by a few years. Despite being both smaller and paler than Sirius, the boy seemed... aged. His grey hair and raggedy clothes certainly didn't improve his appearance. He looked like a... a...
A tramp.
The boy gave him a puzzled look; for a moment, Sirius feared that he'd said it aloud. And for a minute, they just stared at each other awkwardly, both unsure of what to say Finally, Sirius wrenched his hand away. "Nothing," he said coolly, attempting to mask his look of surprise The boy just shrank back, almost like he had expected Sirius to hit him. But he kept his eyes trained down in his lap.
At that exact moment, James decided to flounce back inside the compartment, dragging behind him a very large sack of Cauldron Cakes, and, by the looks of it, other treats and goodies.
"I met the trolley witch," he explained unnecessarily, grinning. Then his gaze shifted over to the boy.
"Hullo, you're awake. Name's James Potter. How you doing?" James reached out and shook the boy's limp hand heartily. Then, without waiting for a reply, continued to address Sirius. "I took the liberty of buying her entire stock. There's a new warlock on those Chocolate Frog cards-"
"Are you serious?" Sirius interrupted. He could hear the disbelief in his own voice.
James chortled, "No, you're Sirius," and overturned his sack. A flood flood of sweets tumbled out - crushed Cauldron Cakes, stringy Licorice Wands, plump Pumpkin Pasties and an absolute rainbow of Every Flavor Beans. Sirius eyed the treats in wonder; the boy edged away from the as if they might burn him. James snorted. "They're not poisoned," he chuckled, tossing a Licorice Wand at the boy. "Go on, have at it!"
The boy picked it up warily, like he was afraid it might explode in his face. Eventually, he deemed it safe and took a small bite. "Twelve years this March," he mumbled.
"What?" James asked, plopping back down in his seat.
"Twelve years this March," the boy said a bit louder. He glanced sheepishly over at James. "You were wondering how old I was. Twelve years this March."
James frowned. "Wha - oh!"
Quickly, Sirius did the math "You're in our year!" he burst out.
The boy nodded distractedly, setting down his unfinished Licorice Wand and picking up a Chocolate Frog. "Are these real frogs?" he asked uncertainly, almost to himself.
"Nah," Sirius said, grabbing a couple Pumpkin Pasties for himself. "I'll be twelve in November." He heard himself announce this rather loudly, like it was really important. Well, it is, Sirius though. Age played a key role when it came to respect, along with blood-status, of course-
You're not at Grimmauld Place! Sirius told himself.
The boy glanced at him. "Congratulations," he muttered sarcastically, the corners of his mouth twitching. Tentatively, he bit off the frog's head and chewed slowly. Then a grin lit up his face. "This is good!"
Sirius felt himself smile. Then outstretched his hand. "I'm Sirius"
The boy frowned. "About what?"
"What? I - no." Sirius sighed annoyed. This always happened. Why did his parents have to g and name his something stupid like Sirius?"Sirius. It's my name. S-I-R-I-U-S."
"Like Sirius in Canis Major?"
Sirius sat back, confused. "What?"
The boy bit his lip, his mouth still full of Chocolate Frog. "Sirius. S-I-R-I-U-S? Canis Major? The dog...? His voice faded when he noticed James and Sirius's clueless expressions.
"I'm named after a dog?" Sirius shrieked, crushing his Pumpkin Pasty in his fist; James fell over laughing.
"Well, it's actually a star," the boy said hurriedly, swallowing.
"I'm named after a star," Sirius mumbled, watching bits of pasty drop onto the floor. "Now I feel better." How he hated those family names They didn't make any sense at all.
The boy smiled. "Well, James and Sirius, I'm Remus Lupin. Pleased to meet you." And with that, he tugged a large book out of his duffel bag and disappeared behind it.
"Hm," Sirius said, exchanging glances with James, who could barely restrain fits of laughter. It as clear James found this boy funny. For some reason.
"Oh, you forgot this," Remus said, tossing a small paper ball into the air. James caught it; Sirius looked over his shoulder and saw that it was their tally of points - Remus had taken out his quill and given James ten more points.
"Hey!" Sirius protested.
"He brought in the candy," Remus pointed out.
"Ha, ha, I win" James teased, poking Sirius in the ribs.
Sirius hit him. James hit back. They engaged in a joke of a wrestling match that mostly involved slapping each other in the face. Remus watched them, greatly amused, over the top of his book. And despite having his hair pulled by James, Sirius felt immensely happy. Never before he he felt this loved. All throughout his life, he had hated, despised even. His whole family had looked down their noses at him - a disgrace to the noble House of Black.
At that moment, their compartment door opened again, and a small girl with a mane of red hair flung herself inside, pushing herself past Remus and curling up against the window. Sirius and James paid her no attention, though out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Remus's gaze flicker towards, then back down at his book; he noticed Remus's eyebrows come together. Not even a minute afterwards, another boy arrived at their carriage. Greasy-haired, hook-nosed and hunched, he looked rather like a bat that was stuffed into wizard robes. Only having eyes for the red-haired girl, the boy shoved past James and Sirius practically knocking them to the floor, and seated himself opposite her. James shot the boy look of great dislike - Sirius rolled his eyes and took a seat beside Remus, who seemed to flinch every time Sirius moved
"I'm not going to hit you," Sirius said quietly.
Remus's hands were almost shaking. I-I know," he whispered, and disappeared behind his book again.
Sirius frowned. Remus seemed nice enough, perhaps more clever than he was nice. But there was something definitely strange about him... something he was hiding...
Suddenly, the girl sitting near the window let out a choked sob. "So she's my sister!" Sirius heard her cry. He saw the boy sitting opposite her open his mouth to say something, then seemed to catch himself, because for a moment he just sat there, agape, like a goldfish. Then, finally, he spoke.
"But we're going!" the boy said, not bothering to hide the excitement in his thin, hoarse voice. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"
The girl, Sirius saw, sniffled, but managed a weak smile. The boy, in turn, brightened. "You'd better be in Slytherin," he added casually.
"Slytherin?"
A bomb might've dropped - James practically jumped five feet in the air with his arms flailing, all while choking rather unattractively on a Cauldron Cake. Nearby, Remus was watching all this with a look of mild interest on his face. Sirius, meanwhile, was inwardly panicking. He should've guessed it - James hated Slytherin. He was that type. But anyone normal would hate Slytherin, Sirius thought bitterly. Who wouldn't? All of the darkest and most evil witches and wizards were Sorted into Slytherin... and it did nothing to change them. If anything, they just got nastier It made sense, Sirius thought. His whole family were wicked, spoiled prats. And they'd all been Sorted into Slytherin.
It makes sense, Sirius thought again. The cheerfulness seemed to leech right out of him, and his sardonic, gloomy self returned. Dreading what was to come next, he slid further and further down in his seat, trying to disappear. He saw Remus glance down at the top f his head. "Where are you going?" he asked curiously. Sirius groaned, realising that he couldn't escape - he sat back upright, refusing to smile. His mother was cackling madly inside his head.
"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" James was saying now. Then he addressed Sirius. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
Doing his best to avoid James's gaze, Sirius answered honestly. "My whole family have been in Slytherin," he muttered, half-expecting James to leap up and hit him, calling him a liar and a traitor.
Instead, Sirius was startled to see James smile.
"Blimey! And I thought you seemed all right!"
Sirius felt himself grin, out of happiness or sheer relief, he didn't know. "Maybe I'll break the tradition." James chuckled a little; Sirius's grin widened. "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"
He watched as James lifted and swung and invisible sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad.'"
Slowly, Sirius began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Gryffindor - he could see it. That was why James hated Slytherin so. The two Houses were practically arch enemies; they always seemed to be at each other's throats, with classes, points, competitions, Quidditch... Even the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin had been said to be short with each other, no matter who they were.
Sirius almost felt his face light up. How he wished to be Sorted into Gryffindor. His parents, he hoped, would finally give up and disown him.
Suddenly, the boy sitting opposite the red-haired girl snorted disapprovingly. James turned on him so fast Sirius was surprised he didn't get whiplash.
"Got a problem with that?" James asked accusingly, his eyes narrowing.
"No," the boy replied; his expression suggested that he thought otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-"
Sirius snapped. Leaning forwards, he said, "Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?"
James exploded with laughter, and Sirius felt himself grow warm with pride. James did not hate him, in fact, he felt even more friendly with James. The girl, meanwhile, glared at them as she stood.
"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."
"Ooooo..." James did his best to imitate her in his highest, girliest voice, which simply resulted in his voice cracking. He choked as he laughed, but managed to stick out his foot, nearly tripping Severus as he left their compartment.
"See ya, Snivellus!" Sirius called after him, still chortling as he slammed the door. Then he turned round, grinning broadly. "You know, I don't mind being named after a dog-"
"A star," Remus corrected, raising an eyebrow.
"-that much. At least I don't have a name like Snivellus," Sirius finished, still laughing a bit. James fished a package of Every Flavor Beans out of the pile. "What do you think, Remus?"
"Hm?" Remus said vaguely.
"What House do you want to be in?"
Remus closed his book thoughtfully. "I don't know, do we get to choose?" he wondered.
"I think we get a word in," Sirius added, taking back his seat next to James, who frowned.
"But doesn't family have to do with it as well?" he questioned.
"I hope not," Sirius said darkly, taking a Licorice Wand and fashioning it into a noose.
James snorted into his box of Every Flavor Beans. "Well, my dad was in Gryffindor, and Sirius's whole family was in Slytherin-"
"Hear, hear," Sirius groaned.
"What about your parents then, Remus?"
Remus didn't respond for a while. "My dad was in Ravenclaw," he said shortly, staring out the window almost dolefully.
"And?" Sirius prompted.
Remus looked startled. "And what?"
"What about your mum?" James inquired, popping another bean into his mouth.
"Oh... she's a Muggle." Sirius saw Remus turn a bit red. "I hope you don't mind."
James scoffed. "Of course we don't mind! Do we, Sirius?" He elbowed Sirius in the ribs again; he choked.
"'Course not," Sirius coughed. But James didn't know his last name yet, he didn't know that he was a Black. Everyone knew that the Blacks were pure-blood obsessed...
"Shut up," Sirius told himself aloud. He distracted himself by emptying a whole box of Every Flavor Beans into his mouth.
"SIRIUS!" James shouted, both in amazement and disgust. "There's got to be at least twenty different flavors in there!"
"I know," Sirius choked. "Nougat... sprouts... ugh, tripe -"
"Swallow it, swallow it!" James was screaming with laughter. "Do you want to be in Gryffindor or not?"
"You'll be Sorted into Gryffindor if you spit it all over James's face," said Remus convincingly.
"OY!"
A loud, shrieking whistle interrupted their merriment - the train began to jerk, metal creaked, and gradually, it started to slow. Outside the window, the countryside had vanished, now replaced by an ancient-looking wooden platform, overshadowed by a huge looming tower in the distance.
Sirius swallowed the beans, the tastes of nougat, sprouts and tripe quite forgotten. A sick sort of feeling had started to grown in his stomach, and began to creep up into this throat.
"We're here."