Author's Notes: This story is the effort of a group of dedicated Gryffindors, written for the house fan fiction contest at Third Floor Corridor. In this chapter, Pennilyn Novus was the author.
While we wish Harry Potter belonged to us, we do not own him, nor the books, nor the movies. They are owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Warner Brothers, and possibly a few others. No harm is intended, and no profit is being made.
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Chapter Seven
Nearly a week passed before Sirius agreed it was time to tell Remus and Peter about what had happened to him. Sirius never said it, but James imagined he was ashamed, either because he hadn't attempted to fight back, because his parents had abused him in such a way, or because being abused like that had made him feel weak.
But at last, one morning over breakfast, Sirius looked over his heaping plate of rashers and eggs and asked Carolyn, "Would it be alright if I asked Remus and Peter to come over this afternoon?"
James paused for just a moment, his fork halfway to his mouth, and glanced up at his mother, who was smiling kindly. She'd taken an instant shine to Sirius, and doted on him in a way that always left Sirius smiling goofily, his face flushed slightly pink.
"Of course you may invite your friends over, Sirius," she answered. "It would be nice to have all the boys over and actually get to talk to them, instead of just seeing them at the platform." She nudged her husband gently, and his elbow slid onto his plate, his morning copy of the Daily Prophet falling into his lap. "Wouldn't it, Harold?" she asked.
Looking slightly bewildered, Harold Potter shot a look at his son, who nodded ever so slightly. "Why, yes, Carolyn, I should say so," he answered, running a hand through his messy gray hair, making it stick up even worse.
Carolyn, shaking her own graying head, smoothed Harold's hair as she stood to clear the dishes, and Sirius, as always, jumped to help her. "Nonsense, Sirius," she smiled. "You're a guest here; James can help me while you go owl your friends."
James sighed dramatically, shoveled the rest of his breakfast into his mouth, and began to gather plates. As James reached for the plate his father's elbow had recently vacated, Harold grabbed him by his arm and tugged him down, mussing his already messy black hair.
"Dad!" James complained, laughing and struggling to get free. He danced out of his father's grasp, still laughing, and happened to look up at Sirius, who was watching the scene with an odd look on his face, a mixture of longing and envy. The smile froze on James's face as he watched Sirius slip from the room silently. He sighed.
"He'll be alright, James," Carolyn said, touching his arm lightly.
"He doesn't know where he's going to live," James blurted suddenly. Sirius had admitted that just the previous night, but it had plagued James ever since. He loathed the idea of Sirius returning to his family to endure more torture, but he knew that the small amount of money that Sirius had in his vault at Gringotts was not enough with which he could get by on his own.
Late in the night, or perhaps it was early in the morning, James had decided to ask his parents if they would take in Sirius. There were spare rooms in the Potter house, after all.
"What do you mean, 'he doesn't know where he's going to live'?" Carolyn asked. "He's going to live here. Where else would he go?"
James gaped at his mother for a moment, then looked to his father for confirmation. Harold smiled, no doubt at his son's gobsmacked expression, and said, "We decided having one troublemaker in the house just wasn't enough."
With a small laugh, James hugged first his mother, then his father, who continued, "Merlin help us."
That afternoon, James sat in his bedroom with Remus and Peter, both of whom began to bombard him with questions of his adventure to Lily's house. Eager to recount the event once again, he filled them in on as many details as he could remember. They howled with laughter as he recounted how Petunia had toppled over the table, and at his description of Vernon Dursley in his too-small tuxedo. He skimmed over what Petunia had said to Lily, instead saying she'd been upset that James had tricked her, but that Lily had found it amusing, and left it at that. He decided it wasn't right to tell anyone, even his closest friends, the secret Lily was keeping: that her sister hated her.
He'd just finished his tale when Sirius slipped into the room.
"Oi! Sirius, where have you been? We've been here for nearly an hour!" Remus said.
Sirius shifted from foot to foot. "Yeah, I – um…I know. I'm sort of staying here right now."
Peter, who hadn't said anything when Sirius came into the room, asked suddenly, "What happened to your face?"
"What happened to yours?" Sirius retorted, his hand going to his face and his mostly faded bruises and cuts.
"Did you get in a fight with Regulus again?" Remus asked.
"Well," Sirius began, "it's sort of why I'm staying here."
By the time Sirius had finished his shortened version of what had happened to him, Peter had gone deathly white and Remus was pacing the room, his wand clenched in his hand erupting with showers of sparks every time he turned to pace back the way he'd come. At last, James took his wand and let him continue pacing. There was a long moment of silence, and James sent an encouraging nod to Sirius, who smiled nervously.
"I may kill them," Remus growled at last. "Next full moon."
Seeing Sirius's face go white, James shook his head slightly at his werewolf friend.
"Or I could just send them a howler," Remus amended quickly. "Full of Ever-Itching Powder."
Sirius barked a short laugh, and the tension in the room broke as the boys began to brainstorm different harmless to hurtful pranks they could pull over Mr. and Mrs. Black. James eventually steered the conversation to the Solstice Ball, which was only a week away, and announced he was going to invite Lily Evans to be his date. This pronouncement was met with more riotous laughter, but it only strengthened his resolve.
Lily Evans had smiled at him, and she'd cared what he'd thought of her horrible sister. He was going to invite her to the Ball. He made up his mind that he would owl her the following day, asking her.
The other boys began to discuss which girls they thought they might ask, which distracted them completely from Sirius. He saw the look of gratitude Sirius shot him, and he rolled his eyes at the other two, shaking his head slightly. Sirius smiled.
Carolyn called up the stairs that dinner was on the table shortly after that, and all four boys trooped down to the dining room. After a delicious dinner in which Harold let slip, much to Carolyn's mock displeasure, a few more choice pranks he'd played in his youth, Carolyn stood to gather the dishes.
As always, Sirius hopped up to help. "Oh, thank you, Sirius," Carolyn sighed, smiling. "It's nice to have one son who will help out with the dishes."
Sirius froze, his hand reaching for Peter's plate, and looked at Carolyn, an astonished, hopeful look on his face.
In spite of his other friends being there, James felt his eyes mist over, just for a moment, before he blinked. He didn't think he'd ever loved his mother more than he did just then.
"What?" Sirius asked, his hand still frozen in place.
"And one who keeps his room so clean, as well," Harold commented, reaching over and patting Sirius on the back. Sirius turned to look at him, his hand going slack at his side.
"His – my room?" he asked, looking quickly at James, who shrugged his shoulder, unable to contain his smile.
"Though, you might want to consider redecorating it. Looks like someone's mother chose the wallpaper," Carolyn quipped, continuing to gather dishes.
"Redecorating?" Sirius echoed, looking as though he didn't dare to believe what he was hearing.
"Well, unless you like it that way," James said at last. "But I'll have to take the mickey if you leave it like that."
Sirius snorted, then burst out laughing, and hugged Carolyn, who quickly put down her pile of plates. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Her own eyes looking suspiciously moist, Carolyn smoothed his hair and said, "You know, you boys should go and talk in one of your bedrooms. Harold can help with the dishes tonight."
Living with the Potters was far different from living with the Blacks, Sirius decided. The difference was like night and day. As opposed to constant criticism and degradation, it was kindness and warmth. Instead of having a sullen brother displeased with his Gryffindor kin, he had a brother who actually wanted to talk to him or play Quidditch, or Wizard's Chess.
There were dishes to be done after meals, which was also a change. Though the Potters were moderately wealthy, they chose not to regularly employ house-elves (though they would be bringing in some to help with the Ball), which meant, for the first time in his life, Sirius was expected to clean up after himself, and do his own laundry.
Therefore, two days after the Potters had invited him to live with them, his room was a wreck, and a small pile of laundry had begun to collect on the floor.
"Thank goodness," James commented. "You were making me look bad."
Another difference Sirius noticed was in himself. He felt lighter than he had in years, knowing he never had to return to his family, their abuse, or their criticism. Though at random moments during the day, he would ache for his mother to have just once shown him the kind of love that Carolyn Potter heaped on him, he couldn't remember being happier.
So, it was with a bounce in his step that he traipsed into James's bedroom after breakfast one morning two days before the Solstice Ball. James was staring, slack jawed, at the note he held in his hand, paying no attention to the owl sitting on his desk, impatiently pecking at his other hand.
"What's up, mate?" Sirius asked, giving the owl a treat and sending it on its way.
James gaped at the letter for another moment, his mouth working wordlessly. At last, he managed to say, his voice full of awe, "She said yes!"
