A/N: Sorry for the lateness in delivering this chapter, yet again.
And thank you very much to everyone who read & reviewed the last chapter, I apologise if I didn't reply to your review, I think I got most of them but I'm sure I missed a few.
And with my excitement I will now add my countdown that you can feel free to ignore;
Home for Christmas in: 12 days
Christmas in: 23 days
Sirius was bored. He was certain that no one on earth had ever been more bored than he had, and that he had never been more bored than he was at this precise moment, even the boredom of being locked in a cupboard for four hours because James forgot he was in there couldn't compare. Harry had been gone a month now and he was still finding it difficult to get used to, there was just nothing to do when you didn't have a child to run around after, it only took so long to write a letter, after all.
He had decided to take his boredom out of the house and away from Grimmauld Place, sat outside a café in the centre of Diagon Alley he swung his legs back and forth and eyed his empty teacup with venom, as though his boredom was entirely down to the hand painted china. From behind him heard a soft, feminine, chuckle and turned his head. He squinted in vague recognition at the face he saw before him. The woman, who was, he decided, very beautiful, smiled at him. His eyes fixed together, had he once slept with her or something? He didn't meet very many women these days, but he was sure he had met her before.
"Long time no see, Sirius." She said, still smiling. "Are you enjoying your staring contest with the teacup or can I sit down?"
"I, um, you can sit, feel free." He still had absolutely no idea who she was, but he wasn't going to forget his manners. She was still smiling. Well, he supposed, he hadn't at any point broken her heart. She was about his age so they probably went to school together, but that didn't help any, Remus was good with names and faces but Sirius was not unknown for mixing people up, there had been various, disastrous incidents whilst they were at school involving calling girls by the wrong name. He had, as a result, suffered an assortment of hexes, and taken to writing names on the back of his hand and hoping to Merlin that it didn't rain.
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"Yeah, I do, we went to school together." She looked mildly impressed and he smirked to himself, taking a sip of his tea and finding it to be an extremely unpleasant experience "Did you want a cup of tea? Mine's gone cold." She looked as though she was going to nod, but she stopped herself.
"If you can tell me my name, then yes."
"Bugger it." He said. She smiled again, obviously resisting the urge to laugh, and stood, patting his shoulder almost consolingly as she left. He felt deflated, and bemused. He wasn't entirely sure what she had been after and he still couldn't place her. He tipped the cold tea onto the cobblestones in frustration and stood up, wandering around the shops idly, trying to work out who she was.
When he arrived home he was still none the wiser and thudded up the stairs, leaving behind a pathway of muddy footprints that Kreacher would probably ignore and which Sirius would have to clean in a few weeks time when he realised they still existed. He bounded into Remus' room, which was always unlocked, and dived under the bed without any concern for his friend's privacy. He rooted around in the dust for a good ten minutes before he found what he was looking for at the far side of the bed. With some effort he pulled his prize out, cursing loudly as his head came in contact with the edge of the bed on his way out and he tumbled backwards. After a moment which involved Sirius rubbing his head continuously and swearing several times, each time with more volume, he looked at the trunk that lay before him. Remus' old school trunk, with the faded letters. R.L. on the front, the R actually looked more like a P because it was beginning to peel.
Sirius grinned in triumph, memories flooding back to him. There was a dent in the corner from where Sirius had given it a particular vicious kick whilst they were in their sixth year and a small hole near the top which James had poked through an in attempt to discover if his Christmas present lay within it. He flipped it open; the long had been broken for several years. They kept all their school stuff in here. Well, Remus kept all their school stuff in here. Discarded essays, now covered in dust, the ink beginning to fade, school ties complete with ink stains, and, what Sirius had been looking for; hundreds of photographs. She had be in here somewhere, he knew that at best she had aged thirteen years since these were taken, but it was still worth a shot. He discarded a pile of first year photos; if she was in any of them he would never recognise her.
It took almost an hour before he reached the photos from their seventh year, they had had a leaver's party in the Gryffindor common room, complete with fireworks which, for once, they had had the insight to set off outside, but which were spectacular to watch all the same. The pictures brought back thousands of memories; he resisted the temptation to rip Peter from every photo his face appeared in, although he could feel his anger growing each time he saw him, especially when he was near to Lily or James. After some time he found a photo of Lily and her friends and whooped with joy when he realised who the woman from the café had been. Lily's friend Mary. He'd never had all that much to do with her; she was the sort of girl that blended into the background like Remus was the sort of bloke who did. They would have made a good couple, he mused, and wondered if he could find her again and set them up.
He laughed as he saw pictures from the party's descent throughout the school, they had moved from corridor to corridor, waking portraits and students alike as they past, it had culminated in Professor McGonagall shouting at them for a full hour, and Sirius and James taking bets on whether or not she had even paused for breath whilst she informed them in no uncertain terms that they would end up either dead or in Azkaban. He grinned at the memory and began to chuck the photographs, rather unceremoniously, back into Remus' trunk. He was almost finished when he saw a picture he must have dropped and his face fell. It was of Lily and James, looking more in love than ever, but that wasn't what caught his attention, in the background he could see Peter, engaged in conversation with Severus Snape, whose arm was outstretched and he was tapping it irritably as though he was attempting to make a point. He threw it with bitter anger back into the trunk and closed it, pushing it back under the bed with great force; he heard it bounce against the wall before he flopped down onto Remus' bed, almost writhing with anger. Sirius was certain Snape had been a Death Eater, or in league with them anyway, was Peter turning to Voldemort's side, even then, before they had even left school? Why had none of them noticed? They were still sharing a room with him, they were his friends, they would have noticed. But then, Sirius thought, feeling suddenly both ashamed and betrayed, they had never paid Peter all that much attention, especially not at that point, when James was engrossed in Lily and Remus was engrossed in revision and Sirius was engrossed in having a good time. Peter could probably have exploded in front of them and they wouldn't have noticed. Perhaps that had been the problem all along, perhaps he had been a time bomb, waiting to go off, and when no one had been there to notice he'd turned to Voldemort.
He banished all thoughts of guilt, furious with himself for even thinking that, if he blamed himself he would have to blame Remus and James too, and it wasn't their fault, not at all. No, he was sure they couldn't have noticed, and even they could have, Peter didn't have to turn to the Death Eaters, it wasn't about attention, it wasn't about feeling unwanted, it was about protection, it was about looking out for number one. He was a pureblood and he would be safest on Voldemort's side, that was why it had happened.
But yet, he couldn't get the image of Peter and Snape out of his mind, there, in that photo, right in front of their eyes, and they didn't even notice. He kicked at Remus' bedpost as he stood up and cursed the numb feeling that came over his toes. What did it matter now, anyway? Peter was as good as dead, if Sirius found him he'd kill him, if the Death Eaters found him they'd kill him, and if the ministry found him he'd spend the rest of his pitiful existence in Azkaban.
Guilt still racked through Sirius though, as it always did when he thought about Peter's betrayal too much, he always wondered if they could have stopped him going over to Voldemort, he always wondered if, at the heart of it, he was responsible for Harry not having any parents. Cursing yet, he moved to his own bedroom and sat down to write two letters.
Harry,
Hope you're okay. I've had no letters from Dumbledore so I'm assuming you haven't blown anything up yet. I'm only slightly disappointed.
Only a very quick letter, you haven't replied to the last one yet so I don't have much to say; what do you want for Christmas? Diagon Alley's full of stuff, I had a lovely visit there today, had an awful cup of tea. Bought Uncle Moony three pairs of Slytherin socks.
Love, Sirius.
It made him feel slightly better to remember that he had raised Harry, that he had done right by him, and that he had, hopefully, honoured James and Lily by doing so.
Moony,
I raided your school trunk. Don't tell me off, I had a reason. Saw an absolutely gorgeous woman in Diagon Alley, legs up to her armpits, no lie. Couldn't remember her name, turned out to be Mary. Lily's Mary. You know, little miss wallflower Mary. She's gorgeous and I've never kissed her, can you believe it? I might have to try and find her again.
Anyway, there was a picture of Prongs and Lily looking sickeningly loved up from our last party. Wormtail and your slimy Slytherin colleague were in the background, do you think he was one of them before we left school? We would have noticed if he was, wouldn't we?
I bought you a Christmas present today; you're going to love it. It's not a book. Or chocolate.
Wish you were here, I'm driving myself mad. Think the boredom's getting to me.
Padfoot.
Remus was the voice of reason and Sirius felt better just sending him a letter, he moved to the kitchen and made himself a decent cup of tea, pushing all thoughts of Peter from his mind in favour of the hot, sweet liquid.
When the post arrived the next day there were three letters waiting for him, he tore each one open.
Sirius,
I haven't blown anything up on purpose, our cauldron went a bit melted on Tuesday but it was Ron's fault and Professor Snape fixed it anyway. He took points though, I think he HATES me. Uncle Moony says he doesn't, but he looks at me funny.
I did mean to reply to the last letter but I forgot. Sorry. I don't know what I want for Christmas, a surprise please, it's ages away anyway.
Uncle Moony likes socks, but I don't think he's a fan of Slytherin ones. That'll be very funny to see.
Love, Harry.
Padfoot,
I'm going to lock my bedroom door when I come back, I might have had something private in there, sometimes I wonder if you have any manners at all.
Mary was always beautiful, I've kissed her. Mistletoe induced, of course. She's a very lovely girl; I hope you didn't scare her off too much.
You worry too much though, don't you remember, James and Peter hexed Snape at that party, just before Minerva got there and exploded and told you you'd end up in Azkaban. I don't think he was before we left, and you have got to stop blaming yourself for what happened; it is entirely down to Peter.
Why are you buying me Christmas presents in October? It better not be poisonous, or exploding. Speaking of exploding, Severus was having a rant about our Harry, exploding cauldrons. I think he's inherited James' potion skills and not Lily's.
You were mad before I left, but you could always get a job or a hobby to pass the time.
Moony.
Mr Black,
I am writing to request your return to Hogwarts this year for the occasional auror training lecture, on the terms as they previously were. I hope you will consider taking up the position again, if you are interested you will first be required on the twenty third of this month.
Please reply promptly, I await your response.
Albus Dumbledore.
A/N: That part might have seemed incredibly random and in some ways it was, in other ways it'll be relevant in later parts but I must confess to it having been a filler, the problem is, I know what I want to do with it, but I don't want to launch straight into it because it would mean skipping an awful lot of time, if anyone has any ideas for things that they'd like to see please let me know!