Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Note: YAY! Okay, now that we're all done celebrating my initiative we need to talk. Now, I know I updated in time for New Years (I finished and had the update up three minutes before midnight (East Coast, anyway)) but I don't think it was a proper update. I mean . . . I didn't even write 15 pages on Word. It was short! It was good, and I enjoyed doing it, but I had hoped to do more. So, I'm giving you more. This is your gift for . . . Chinese New Year. Even if, because of faulty internet, it's late. (I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY!)
Oh, and, after going on J.K's site . . . I'm fixing the ages. Those of you who told me they were too young . . . I concede. Oh, and while I'm at it . . . I'm revamping this. So . . .fewer chapters because some of the first chapters are going to be combined. I'm kind of going to switch some things up and . . . well, you may want to re-read it. It's nothing Earth-shattering, but there are just some minute things which might make a tiny bit of difference.
THANKS TO:
--COVET IT! --
xRummyx: What can I say? Remmie-kins the cuddly is one smart cookie. He knows what going on! And, ha, I'm actually updating . . . soon!
--COVET IT! --
The Zinnia Blooms--Beginning Anew
"James! James Harold Potter! Get back here!" A thin, brown-haired woman with warm eyes yelled after her son.
"Come and look at this, Mum!" James waved his mother over, grinning.
She huffed, rolled her eyes, asked God why she had such a rambunctious son, and ultimately walked over, smiling despite herself.
Immediately James spun around and set his eyes upon the display case again. There, one pane of glass and one foot away, was the most beautiful broom he had ever seen.
"Isn't it great, Mum? Cherry handle, stream-lined tail, contoured grip . . . It goes 75, Mum. . ."
Mrs. Potter gave a snort. "That broom is-"
"A thing of beauty!" Mr. Potter clapped his hand on his wife shoulder. "Wish I had something like that when I was younger."
"Oh, can I get it, Dad?" James turned to his father. "Please, please, please! I have money left over from my birthday and everything! I can pay for part of it. Please?"
"Well-"
"You can't seriously be considering this, Harold!" Mrs. Potter stared at her husband reproachfully.
"Oh, come now, Mary Anne! The boy is going to be trying out for the Quidditch team this year and, by Jove, I want to see him on it! He's got talent; all he needs is a good broom. Hm? What do you say?"
James watched as his mother stared and his father a little wearily. "We spoil him . . ."
"He'll only be young once, Love! Besides, he's been doing excellently in school."
No, Dad, NOOOOO! James thought desperately and saw his mother's mouth tighten and brows draw together in an all too familiar expression.
"He has gotten himself into loads of trouble!"
"Like father, like son, Dear. Don't you remember when we were young?" His father smiled and James started to gain hope as he saw his mother's resolve slipping. "Why, as I remember, I once charmed love notes to you on the Transfiguration board, enduring months of detentions, and you were positively captivated."
"I thought you were crazy-"
"And you were smitten!" Mr. Potter wrapped his arms around his wife. "Let's get the broom. It's a very fine broom. Plus, maybe Quidditch will even help keep him out of trouble."
James suppressed a snort and watched as his mother looked contemplative.
She sighed wearily. "Alright. Let's get it before I change my mind."
"YES!" James jumped up, with a hoot. Vaguely, he noticed his father laughing.
Within five minutes Mr. Potter had filled out a form for delivery once the first shipment came in. Within ten minutes James and his father had left Mrs. Potter shopping for new, more slimming robes. ("Mum, I'm deathly bored! All the robes you try on look the same!" James had complained, earning a murderous look from his mother.) They, of course, were having a marvelous time. They were
having ice cream and ranting about the World Cup. Both felt it was mightily unjust that the Montrose Magpies weren't going all the way.
"I just don't get it, they've paid their dues in this game-"
"Oy! James!"
James turned to see none other than Sirius Black bounding over, the woman who was presumably his mother striding behind him while dragging a younger boy alongside. To James, though, it seemed absurd that Sirius—a goofy, enjoyable delinquent—could be related to this stern, horrible woman or this weak, sniveling child.
"Merlin's beard! Am I ever glad to see you!" Sirius threw an arm around James' neck, shaking his head.
"Good to see you, too, Mate." James grinned. "Dad, this is Sirius Black; Sirius, this is my dad."
"Nice to meet the boy behind the legend!" Mr. Potter shook hands with Sirius. "Did you really glue the pages of a boy's book together?"
Sirius gave a brief, roguish smile and opened his mouth to speak.
"Sirius, what have I told you about wandering off?" Mrs. Black demanded with the clipping of her heels suddenly audible.
"Not sure, what have you told me?" Sirius' face was set and his eyes suddenly became cold and hard. In that moment his eyes were just like his mother's.
Mrs. Black's eyes narrowed as she resisted what was obviously a lure on Sirius' part. James got the feeling that Sirius would feel her wrath as soon as they were away from the ever-watchful eye of the public.
"Mrs. Black, I assume?" Mr. Potter cut in amiably.
"You are correct." Mrs. Black suddenly wore a girlish smile though her eyes were still hard. "Harold Potter, I believe . . .?"
"Absolutely, and might I just say that it is lovely to meet you. According to my son, he and your son Sirius here are very close." The man clapped a hand onto his son's shoulder and James suppressed a smile. He's scheming.
"Oh yes," She jerked her younger son back to her from where he had been trying to pull away, "Sirius has asked my husband and I if he might visit your family, but we assumed that you wouldn't want your precious time with your son interrupted."
"No, no!" Mr. Potter laughed. "If Sirius ever wants to visit then, by all means, send him to us. If, of course, he has your permission."
"I'll keep that in mind." The smile became as cold as the gray eyes. "Now, I'm terribly sorry to have cut this delightful conversation short, but my sons and I have shopping to do, yet."
"Well, it was nice to talk to you."
"The feeling is mutual." Mrs. Black gave a smile that was almost condescending and about-faced in order to walk away.
"Sorry you had to endure that." Sirius muttered.
"Sirius!" Mrs. Black called from a meter or so away.
"Coming!" He called back. He turned back to the Potter father and son, shaking his head. "See you, James. Bye, Mr. Potter."
With that he spun around turned and jogged over to his mother, looking a little silly in a long, black robe on a warm, summer day.
"He seems like a nice boy." Mr. Potter put his hands into his pockets.
"He is."
"Awful family, though."
"Complete gits."
. . .
"Ly, turn around so we can see the back." Mrs. Saer instructed.
"Yeah!" Elizabeth cheered.
Lycaon held in a sigh and turned 180 degrees so that her mother could further examine how yet another style of pinned-together cloth looked. A woman whose name Lycaon didn't know was kneeling on the ground, waiting for a yes or no from Mrs. Saer. Are dress robes really this important?
"I think this one is it." Mrs. Saer nodded, as if to herself.
"Fantastic!" The woman who had been kneeling stood. "Shall I just make an order of it, then?"
"Yes, please."
The woman left and Mrs. Saer turned to her daughter with a gentle smile.
"It really does look nice on you, dear."
"Thanks, Mum."
"Mum! I'm hungry!" The nine-year-old with light brown hair tugged on her mother's arm.
"Alright, Elizabeth, we can get lunch as soon as we're finished here, okay?"
Elizabeth let go of her mother's hand to cross her arms and pout. "Okay . . ."
Lycaon rolled her eyes.
"And be grateful I'm even taking you out to eat."
"Yes, Madam." The girl gave in.
"Alright, Mrs. Saer, I have the ticket right here, if you'll just check it over before you pay then we'll be all set." The woman who had carefully pinned cloth around Ly had returned, flipping her sandy blonde hair over her shoulder.
"My pleasure," Mrs. Saer replied, taking the small piece of parchment. She scanned over it quickly with pale green eyes. "Well, everything seems to be just fine." The ticket was handed back to the worker and Claire Saer began to pull out coins from her purse. "There you are."
The attendant smiled and then quickly counted up the money. "Thank you, I hope all three of you have a wonderful afternoon. Come again!" She gave one last smile and then walked off. The pins flew out from the cloth Lycaon was trapped in and said cloth jumped onto a nearby countertop.
"Now, let's go and get lunch!" Mrs. Saer smiled down at both of her daughters.
. . .
"I'm going to the loo. I'll be right back." Elizabeth stood from her chair at the restaurant.
"Alright, don't take too long," said Mrs. Saer.
"I won't!"
A smile dawned on the mother's face and she turned back to her older daughter. This stupid monotonous life . . . the only reason I don't die of boredom is the increasing level of anxiety from being trapped in a situation I hate.
"I hope you enjoy yourself this year, Ly." She placed her hand over Ly's smaller one. "I know your father can be very strict, but he only wants what's best for you. You do understand that he's only trying to protect you, don't you?"
"He just acts so horribly, though. He doesn't know any of my friends—least of all Sirius. Sirius is nothing like father thinks. Besides, who is he to say who I'm friends with?"
"He's your father." Mrs. Saer told her firmly.
Lycaon withdrew her hand and looked away, drawing a sigh from her mother.
"Just try to live your life for now. One day you'll understand. You only have one father, and you can't exactly choose so you may as well make the best of things. All children go through a phase where they're at odds with at least one of their parents. I know that eventually you two will be closer."
"Eventually." Ly crossed her arms. She could feel her mother pursing her lips.
"Ly, we both care about you; I know you must realize that. We're just not perfect; no one is."
She bit her lip and made no move to respond otherwise.
"Do you know about your name, Lycaon Amarantha Saer?"
"I know that 'Amarantha' has to do with Amaranths. But all I know about them is that they supposedly never die."
"Yes, well that's really all there is to know about them. Do you know what 'Lycaon' is?"
"My name?"
"It's part of the Latin name for a timber wolf. It was Lynne's idea. She always wanted to have children; she just never met the right man. I named you for her; she was always such a fantastic sister."
Lycaon looked up questioningly.
Mrs. Saer simply smiled. "She had always said she'd give her children extravagant names that had some kind of meaning. When I had you, she said that you were howling like a little wolf pup—she's always had the strangest comments. So I decided to name you for that. The only thing that came to mind was 'Canis Lupus Lycaon': the timber wolf. So, despite your father's protests, I named you Lycaon. Then, for your middle name, I chose 'Amarantha' because I thought it was pretty. Besides, I thought that if you ever tired of being unusual, you could have people call you 'Amy'. I've always loved amaranths, anyway, though. Of course, when I had Elizabeth I decided I could do your father a favor
and name her simply." Mrs. Saer gave a tight smile. "But I think that you're both growing into your names beautifully. You've always been a little different, Ly . . . but in the most wonderful way possible—just like your aunt Lynne. Both you and your sister are wonderful in your own ways."
The girl drew in a deep breath, blinking, and soaking in all that information. "Wow."
Mrs. Saer laughed. "That's why Lynne has always liked you so very much. She says she's going to be moving back into the area this spring, actually."
"When did she say that?" Lycaon felt a frown pull at her face.
"Your father and I got a letter yesterday."
"Did I get one?"
"Oh! Yes. Sorry, Love. It's at the house. Remind me when we get back, alright?"
"Al-"
"Mum, when are we going to get our food?" Elizabeth inquired, scooting onto her seat.
"Any minute now, Eli."
Lycaon sighed and rested her head on the table. I have to break out of this horrible routine.
. . .
"YEAH? WELL, MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR SON!" Sirius slammed his door violently, angry tears welling behind his eyes. "Bullocks!" He rubbed viscously at his eyes as his mother could vaguely be heard screaming threats at him.
He kicked his large, black trunk and then rolled onto his bed; glancing over at the wall where he had taped up all of the letters his friends had sent. At least I had someone to talk to, he reasoned as he pulled down some of Ly's letters. All summer he had kept in contact with her—the only one who came close to understanding what it was like to live with an unhappy family. I mean, if your father takes away your owl for something that—though she hasn't said specifically what it was—wasn't even a big deal, then things aren't perfect. I wonder what she did . . .
Sirius sighed and continued to take down letters. He gently folded James' promises, Remus' words of wisdom, and Peter's innocent questions and encouragements. Slowly, he tucked them inside a smaller bag—the things that mattered.
"M-Master Sirius, Sir?" A thin, female house elf squeaked.
"Yes, Kibblet?"
"M-M-Mi-Mistress B-Black i-is ready t-to go, and-and sh-she wants M-Master Sirius t-to go d-down-downstairs, M-Master."
"What? The train doesn't leave for three hours!" Sirius frowned.
"K-Kibblet is s-s-sorry, M-Master-"
"No, that's fine. If she wants to get rid of me, let her. Good riddance to her, too."
"Y-yes, M-Master. Sh-should K-Kibblet tell M-M-Mi-Mistress B-Black-?"
"No." Sirius replied flatly. "I'll do it myself. Just bring down my bags."
The stormy-eyed boy walked determinedly out of his room before he received an answer.
"Are you ready to go?" Mrs. Black asked sharply.
"I will be as soon as my bags come down." His voice was like ice and it disgusted him. I'm not like them.
"Well your father will be here shortly and I expect you to be on your very best behavior. This is interrupting a very important meeting."
"He doesn't have to come."
"Silence, Boy!" Mrs. Black stepped forward menacingly. "As long as you are a part of this family your will show respect, though I admit it would appear you may not be part of this family for long."
Sirius glared up at his mother dangerously and opened his mouth to say something.
"Alright, are you ready?" Mr. Black could be heard as he opened the door.
Sirius luggage fell onto the floor from a few inches above. "Yes, Father."
"Yes, Orion."
"Grab your bags, then Sirius. Do you have Regulus, Walburga?"
"I'm here." Regulus planted himself beside his mother.
"Perfect. Now, let's go catch the bus." The patriarch spun on his heels and marched down the steps, where he proceeded to hail the Knight Bus.
Sirius rolled his eyes and dragged his trunk noisily across the floor to the doorway. His mother gave him a death glare which he threw back, and he pulled the trunk down the steps. Mr. Black winced at every bang.
"Sirius! Stop that infernal racket!"
"Yes, Father."
Then there was a terrible squeaking and suddenly the Knight bus was there in front of them. The doors flew open to reveal a lanky teen with light hair.
"Come on. Don't take too long. No, no, I'll get the luggage. Just get on, pay the fee, and sit down."
Mr. Black looked slightly disgruntled as the boy rushed past him but he made no complaint. The worker grabbed Sirius' trunk.
"Er, thanks. . ."
"Kean. Now, hurry up and get on the bus." He hoisted the thing up onto his shoulder. "My stars! What do you have in this?"
"Clothes," Sirius replied morbidly.
. . .
"All for King's Cross, here's your stop!"
Sirius groaned and pulled himself up. "I hate this bus."
"Off, Sirius." The senior Black ordered.
"Yes. . . Father." Sirius stalked off the bus.
"Come on, let's get to the platform." Mr. Black set off at a brisk pace.
Sirius muttered nastily under his breath, ignored a superior glance from his mother, and grabbed his trunk after Kean threw it off.
"Quickly, Sirius!" Mrs. Black snapped.
"Yesss, Mother." He hissed, barely controlling himself. They're going to push me too far one of these days.
"Hurry up, Boy. Merlin, why can't you be as pleasant as Regulus? He's younger and yet he's already a better son than you. Unbelievable."
"I try, Father." Sirius managed to grit out.
"Try harder!" The man barked, picking up the pace.
Screaming silently, Sirius followed. As he lugged on he watched his family—quite possibly the coldest hearts in the station—blend in seamlessly. His mother wore a dark robe that could have been a muggle dress. His father wore a short robe over trousers, and even that was hidden by an overcoat. His brother wore a robe that made him look like a muggle girl. An ugly muggle girl.
He watched as first his father, then his mother and brother, passed onto Platform 9 ¾. Bloody gits, he thought angrily. Then, without caring who did or didn't see him, he walked through the appropriate bricks as well.
"Alright, your owl is probably already at Hogwarts, Sirius." A large hand clasped firmly onto the boy's shoulder. "This year all your mother and I ask is that you follow school rules and respect your cousins. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father. And shall I assume that you strictly forbid contact with the 'blood-traitors, half-bloods, and mud-bloods'?" Sirius asked in an intentionally bored tone, anger creating a constant tension in his gut.
Mr. Black stared down his nose at his son. "You may consort with whomsoever you please. So long as you follow school rules." He turned partially then looked back at Sirius. "Or at least so long as you don't get caught. Blacks don't get caught."
With that his father left and, after a short look and a whispered 'we'll be watching you', his mother and brother did as well. Sirius blinked.
"Love you, too, Mum and Dad," he muttered, the lot of them having already left the platform. He shook his head. "Sodding lot of arses couldn't even let me get a bloody cart." Grey eyes shot a poisonous glare at the column Sirius' family had gone through and then he turned, muttering unhappily as he walked towards the Hogwarts Express. "At least," Sirius took a deep, "I get to go back to Hogwa-arts."
Sirius stopped dead in his tracks.
"Oh Merlin . . . Merli-in! My voi-ice!" He covered his mouth quickly. The gang is going to tear me up . . .
With a heavy sigh Sirius hopped on the train and pulled up his even heavier trunk. Growing up is nothing but trouble. . .
"Oy! Sirius!" A distant voice could be heard from down the train. "Back here!"
Sirius jumped up to see over the heads of some other students but didn't get high enough. Another jump revealed James standing at the end of the next car, past the door that was being held open by a steady trickle of students. As quickly as he could, he made his way into the car. Once there, traffic lightened and he went to the rear. In the last compartment to the right he found the other Marauders. Rather he found one of them: James.
"Hey, Mate. What are you doing here so early? We've got hours before the train leaves." Sirius kicked his trunk towards the window and sat down next to it.
"Ah, well I couldn't sleep. Too excited, you know? So I was driving my parents nuts and they decided to just give in and bring me to the station a little while ago." James shrugged and Sirius nodded. "So are you going to put the trunk up?"
"Nah, I need to lighten it when the train gets going. I think it'd end up being a lovely ritual, don't you?"
"One hundred percent!"
"When do you expect the others will be he-ere?"
Both boys froze.
"Did your voice just . . . crack?"
"No."
"It did! It completely did!"
"Yeah, well soon yours will, too-oo!"
James laughed loudly and Sirius pouted. Some best mate!
"Whew! Merlin . . . Seriously, though, how were your Hols, Siri? Anything you didn't write about?"
"No, not really. I've been thinking about it though, and . . . I think maybe I'll ask Crystal out when we get back."
"Honestly? I didn't realize you fancied her." James' brows rose slightly.
"I kind of have for a little while." Sirius shrugged. "It's not that important. I don't fancy her the way you fancy Lily-flower or anything."
James shrugged in return.
"Wanna play exploding snaps?"
"Absolutely!"
An hour later Sirius finally tired of beating James—though James had every intention of playing until he won—and the two laid down on their seats, staring up at the ceiling.
"I really wish those lazy sods would get here." Sirius grumbled.
"Really! I mean, it's only about an hour and a half before the train leaves, right?"
"Something like that." The grey-eyed boy rolled over on his side to face his friend.
There was a moment of silence.
"Nap time?"
"Nap time."
Both boys nodded and spun to face the backs of the seats. Sirius closed his eyes and gave in to the pull of idle sun beams that beckoned him to sleep from the other side of the windows.
"Sirius? James? Are you two . . . asleep?" A voice Sirius could only vaguely recognize woke him.
"Was," he slurred sleepily, sitting up.
Slowly, his eyes focus and he was able to see that it was Remus in the doorway of the compartment.
"Your voice . . ." James frowned, still half-asleep as well.
"Yeah, it got a little deeper, didn't it?"
Both Sirius and James nodded.
"How much longer do we have until the train leaves?" Sirius asked, rubbing his eyes.
"A little less than an hour."
"Oka-ay." Sirius hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Damn i-it!"
"You, too?" Remus grinned widely.
Sirius nodded solemnly.
"Don't worry, it won't last forever and it'll only be really bad for a little while."
"Right, so who do you think will be here first: Ly or Pete?" James readjusted his glasses.
"Peter, definitely." Sirius let out without a thought.
"I agree." Remus seconded.
"Why did I even ask?" James rolled his eyes.
As predicted, Peter arrived next—about fifteen minutes later. Ten minutes after that an owl could be heard squawking and a very familiar voice could be heard asking for the whereabouts of James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and/or Remus Lupin.
"Excuse me, do you know-Oh, there you lot are."
"Hello, Ly." "Yes, here we are." "Miss us?" "Hi!"
With a sound somewhere between a grunt and a growl she walked in and lifted her trunk into its proper place.
"Ly . . . Did you get your hair cut?" Remus asked curiously.
"Just a little." She shrugged, her cheeks looking slightly pinker.
"It looks like quite a lot to me. Something like ten centimeters." James smirked.
"Is it just me or is Remus' voice deeper? And is your hair shorter, Sirius?" The girl affected a tone of absence.
As she moved to put Eros beside it the bird's racket increased and Sirius couldn't help but smile a little.
"I see Daddy-dearest gave you your owl back."
"Yes, just this morning. Not ten minutes before we walked out the door. Poor thing was going positively bonkers." Lycaon turned to look up at the cage were two big black eyes were staring down at her. "Weren't you, Eros, Love?"
"Why exactly did you get the owl taken away in the first place? You never really said." James watched her expectantly.
"Well, I kind of got into an argument with my father."
Lycaon looked noticeably tenser.
"Over what?" Sirius felt a frown pull down his brows.
"It would appear," she didn't make eye contact with anyone, "that my father is than less than enthusiastic about some of my choices as far as friends."
"WHAT?"
"Namely Sirius." Ly winced
"Wow, what an arse." James said, obviously a little shocked.
"Tell me about it." Lycaon sighed, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, enough about that. How were you guys? Anything you didn't write about?"
Sirius felt a smile grow bitterly on his face. I guess I'm really not alone.
Author's Note: I apologize for the wait. I had this chapter done on February 6th but . . . I have been busy and my internet really, really is bitching lately.
Oh . . . and . . . well . . . the next chapter may not be up any quicker. So I'm sorry my lovelies, really I am. Just know that I love you and, no matter how long the wait, TZB will always be there—growing in the dark.
-old-
COMING SOON: The LiMM Soundtrack. Can you decipher the music? Over Sixty wonderful tracks! Featuring artists such as A.F.I, Sugarcult, Hot Hot Heat, Evanescence, Breaking Benjamin, Billy Talent, Something Corporate, and Ben Jelen! (Subject to Change)
-old-