It was the summer before sixth year and everything was terrifying, and not just because nobody had received their O.W.L. results yet.
Marlene McKinnon tended bar at the Leaky Cauldron in the mornings and the pub was silent, save the radio wireless blasting the news. Wizards and witches alike gathered and listened as the radio personality detailed the latest Death Eater attack.
Nine Muggle families dead in Liverpool! chirped Daisy on WWN. Attempted assassination of the Prime Muggle Minister! The Ministry of Magic continues to struggle with the ever-confusing mystery of the Imperius Curse!
Lily Evans came by on June 14th. There were no more holidays for the Evans family, not now that the Death Eaters were intimidating even the highest authorities. Lily had dark circles under her eyes and her lovely hair was tied up ungracefully. She had not gone to the trouble of putting on a robe over her simple Muggle clothing.
"Wish these pricks would just stop killing people," the redhead grumbled, swirling the straw in her gillywater. "Merlin knows I'm tired of putting up protection spells and keeping watch day and night."
"It's not that easy," said Marlene with a dry, closed-mouth smile as she dried out a whisky glass. "If those government dogs could figure out a way to tell whether those people have been lying about being under the Imperius Curse, it'd make their job a hell of a lot easier."
"Fuck the Imperius Curse," muttered Lily. "There are too many other bloody problems. I'm fretting about my O.W.L. results and Potter's writing me letters again and I don't know whether my family's safe or not- shouldn't that be a given, Mar?"
"'Course it should, doesn't mean it is. My family's not safe either; you know how we're such huge 'blood traitors.' And there's so many of us, and we're so damned poor," said Marlene, handing an elderly witch a glass of sherry. She felt a lump develop in her throat and suddenly wanted to talk about something, anything else. "Hang on, did you say Potter started writing you letters again?"
Lily untied her hair exasperatedly and pushed up her empty gillywater, along with five bronze Knuts. "He's a prick, you know? He thinks he can butter me up now that I'm through being mates with you-know-who…it's not going to happen!Wrote me those stupid letters about his latest pranks all last summer and now this summer he's totally changing his angle. Playing the 'sweet' and 'caring' game. Wanting to know if there's anything he can do to help out my family. Well, two can play at that game."
"What, you're going to be sweet and caring too?" Marlene teased.
"No!" Lily flushed. "I'm going to deflect him. Stupid Mar. Well, I'd better get on home, or Mum will worry. Ta!"
"Ta," murmured Marlene.
/
"Wake up," snarled Bellatrix, bursting into Sirius's room and yanking back his covers. "I said wake up."
He blearily looked up at his cousin. She wore black lipstick and had matching circles rimming her eyes.
"What's the matter?" Sirius asked, smirking. "Are Narcissa's new gloves not posh enough? Mum's breakfast undercooked? No, no," he feigned horror, "are the Muggles running rampant on the streets?"
Bellatrix scowled, then laughed, tugging down the Gryffindor banner that was tacked to the ceiling. "Alphard's dead. Dragon pox."
She paused on her way out. "Filthy blood traitor deserved it. You'll go the same way too, if you don't stop mixing with that nasty Gryffindor lot."
Sirius had to make an effort not to shout and throw his potion ingredients kit at her.
It took a few seconds for the news to sink in. He only had one real memory of his uncle, and that was when they had tea together a few years ago. Alphard had pulled him aside and slipped a small bag of Galleons into his small hands, whispering conspiringly: "don't tell Walburga…I have a feeling you're one of the decent Blacks."
Sirius had never thought about it much, but he guessed that Alphard was also equally decent.
Dragon pox. Merlin, Sirius thought, I feel hollow.
He stayed in his bedroom for the rest of the day. When night descended, he waved his wand and a glittering orb of light rose to illuminate the space. Grunting, he reached into his floorboards and grabbed his trunk. He tossed in a few essential possessions: his schoolbooks, some robes, his broom, a bag of Zonko's merchandise, a pretty blue shell Marlene had found in the lake, and a stack of letters tied together.
Finally, he grimly waved his wand at the Gryffindor banners and pictures of Muggle girls on the wall. There was an outdated picture of him and his best friends as well, but James probably had other copies of it. With a whispered incantation, all the representations of what his family most hated were permanently stuck to the wall.
"Remember me, arseholes," Sirius muttered, dragging his trunk downstairs and carrying his owl's cage. The owl, Felix, hooted softly at the sudden movement of his cage but otherwise subconsciously understood the need for stealth.
The Blacks were eating dinner together and celebrating their disowned relative's death, and they did not hear Sirius go.
/
"I just need to stay here for- for a bit. Just until school starts," he begged when he reached James's house. It was pouring rain and he could feel his hair begin to cling to his face.
"Don't be daft, Padfoot, 'course you can stay," said James breezily. "What, do you think Mum and Dad and I would leave you to the streets? Come on, I'll just tell them you're here." He turned around, then paused and looked back at Sirius, who was leaning on the doorframe wearing a disbelieving expression. "Oi, aren't you coming in?"
"Yeah," Sirius muttered, endlessly grateful that James Potter was his best friend.
"Could probably fix up some food, once Mum gets over her fit of happiness…sometimes I swear she wishes you were her son…"
Sirius grinned, feeling more like his old self. More at home. "Haven't seen Dorea in ages," he commented as they walked into the living room. He was met by a delighted squeal and a hug that enveloped his torso.
Later, he sat in a sleeping bag on James's bedroom floor, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about his family. Had they shouted and screamed and worried? Had they attempted to take down the Gryffindor banners? Had they—had they even noticed?
Sirius pushed the thought out of his mind, and refused to think about his family. They were dark and cruel, and they supported all the killings that were occurring…don't think about them. Instead, he thought about the dark-haired girl who had researched ways to make a vehicle fly during her spare time, and smiled to himself. Sirius had an unnervingly high opinion of Marlene McKinnon. Surely she had flaws- surely she lied to get out of a Charms exam and bit her nails and did selfish, cruel, manipulating things-but he seemed to be blind to any such flaws. The only one that was impossible to ignore was the fact that he had not received a letter from Marlene all summer.
The rustling of blankets, indicating that James was rolling over, drew Sirius out of his thoughts. The untidy black hair was startlingly familiar, and he suddenly felt compelled to say something.
"Oi, Prongs," he said quietly, even though he knew the other boy was probably already asleep. "Thanks for all this."
And of course he was not extending gratitude for the mere favor of being allowed to stay for a few weeks- there were frozen picture frames involved, of the two of them in a train compartment before first year, of James explaining that there really wasn't a hidden reason behind the Blacks's cruelty, of a magnificent stag in the Room of Requirement and pranking Bellatrix with green goo. Thanks for all this. It was a pathetic understatement.
Sirius was on the precipice of sleep when he heard a mumbled: "Anytime, mate."
/
On August 29th, an unfamiliar, ruffled barn owl arrived at the Potters', carrying a scrap of parchment in its beak.
S,
sorry for not writing you. i was busy at the leaky, and then i went to germany.
if you're nice to me, maybe i will tell you about germany.
hope your summer has been good. see you at hoggy warty hogwarts
yrs,
Marlene xxx
The row of 'x's after her name were signed in a slightly different handwriting, as if she had hesitated before writing them.
'X' meant a kiss, didn't it? Three kisses—from Marlene McKinnon, of all people.
Sirius tucked the letter carefully into the stack of all her other letters and felt happier than he had all summer.
A/N: wow more chapter!
sorry these are so short. they will get longer as they get angstier.
also I know I sort of portray Sirius as kind of lovesick? but he isn't that is about the opposite of his personality right now he's just crushin' and you'll see other stuff ? with him ? in later chapters
man, I don't even know, I haven't written them yet. I'm just trying to improve hahahaha
Reviews are better than ezra koenig's face
kthxbye