Author's Note: I re-vamped the chapter structure on July 15, 2020, to go from 11 enormous chapters to 25 reasonably sized ones. I didn't change or add anything, except fixing some typos or grammatical things, so there is no need to re-read.

Apologies if you got a message and though there was an update to the sequel. There will be one in the next day or two!

"Remember that we have to get together this summer," James reminded Sirius as they waited their turn to step off the Hogwarts Express. "You can't get out of it this year."

Sirius pinched his lips together just a bit, because this was at least the ten billionth time James had repeated the same thing, and glared over the sea of students who were clogging up the corridor as if his displeasure alone would make them hurry up. They had apparently chosen a compartment surrounded by every Mudblood who attended Hogwarts, and now they had to wait while dozens of people loaded heavy trunks and cat carriers onto trolleys by hand. Sirius was reminded unpleasantly of the one time he had shared a compartment with Mary MacDonald, and his frown deepened even more.

"Don't give me that look," complained James, who was apparently not at all bothered by the hot, stuffy press of bodies surrounding them.

Sirius chose to let James think that his expression was entirely aimed at him, which was much easier than explaining that he was annoyed by a bunch of incompetent Mudbloods. He turned his head to look down at James, who was pressed close to his side.

"I already told you that I'll do my best to come, but I don't know if my parents will let me."

"Well, I'll definitely come," injected Remus. Then a queer expression passed briefly over his face, drawing even more attention to the pink scar that ran from his forehead to his cheek. "Well, you know, if the timing is right."

James offered the other boy a tight smile. "Don't worry, Remus. I already have all of your, er, prior engagements marked in my calendar, so we can plan around you."

If Remus noticed that his friend's smile didn't reach his eyes, he didn't say anything about it. He probably just thought that James was still angry with him over the fact that he'd become friends with Lily Evans without anyone knowing. (He actually still was, a bit.) Or, knowing the werewolf's penchant for self-loathing, Sirius thought it was also possible that he assumed James was annoyed or angry at having to plan around his condition. The truth was that Sirius and James had planned to only invite Peter so that they could fill him in on their project and spend the summer brewing the necessary potion, but Remus had overheard them talking about it and they'd had to act like they had always intended to invite everybody.

Now they would also try to have a few visits where they included Remus, just to allay suspicion (and because they wanted to spend time with him over the summer, but mostly just to allay suspicion as far, as Sirius was concerned).

By the time the four Gryffindors were finally able to alight onto the platform, much of the crowd had begun to queue at the single exit to King's Cross Station, and the rest had formed isolated groups. Sirius spotted his parents standing with their usual friends, and as always he suffered a moment of uncertainty about how to separate himself from his friends so that he could rejoin the ranks of the respectable pure-bloods.

This year, Peter saved him the trouble by announcing, "I told my mother to wait for me in the station. Avoid having to deal with the crowd in here, you know."

"That was probably a good idea. The platform seems to get more crowded every year," said Remus.

Sirius thought it was probably just that they were larger now than they'd been as first years, not that Hogwarts was more crowded.

Peter offered an affirmative noise, but Sirius knew that the truth was he was a bit embarrassed by his mother, Mudblood and fat and uncultured as she was, and hadn't wanted to risk her being introduced to James or Sirius's mothers. It had been quite bad enough, Peter had confided in Sirius only the night before as they'd finished packing, when his mother had met Sirius's father during their first year.

After Peter's announcement, any lingering awkwardness about goodbyes seemed to evaporate, and the boys offered their promises to write and went their separate ways.

"They'll be along shortly," Sirius heard Rabastan telling his parents' group as he approached.

Sirius could only assume that he was referring to Malfoy and Cissy, who were nowhere to be seen. In fact, the group consisted only of Rabastan, Sirius's family, and Mr. Malfoy.

Sirius experienced a moment of near panic as he approached. He could almost feel the older boy's mouth and hands pressed against him like phantom limbs, and he knew that anyone who saw him in those brief seconds would have known immediately that he was thinking about something extremely improper. In the end, he managed to arrange his face into an indifferent mask as he stepped into the narrow space between Rabastan and Walburga. Although they weren't quite touching, in such close proximity Rabastan's body heat seemed to sear right into Sirius's skin through their Muggle-friendly clothing.

"There you are, my darling," greeted Walburga with a slight air of reprimand in her otherwise-even tone. "I had begun to wonder if you had missed the train."

He dutifully leaned forward to kiss her cheek and realized with some surprise that he was almost exactly her height now. "Hello, Mother. I was delayed trying to get off the train; it seems that fully a quarter of Hogwarts students haven't figured out yet how to shrink their belongings to manageable sizes."

A round of laughter went through the group, and Sirius noticed as he pulled away from his mother that Evans, Vance, and MacDonald were standing nearby with their parents and had all turned to look. He studiously ignored Vance and Evans's glares and turned back to his own, reaching out to shake his uncle's and Mr. Malfoy's hands and reluctantly pressing a kiss to his aunt's proffered cheek.

"Where are you parents?" Uncle Cygnus asked Rabastan as soon the commotion had died down. "I had hoped to extend a personal invitation to your father when I saw him."

"Oh, yes, and I should like to see your dear sister," inserted Walburga, sending her eldest son a pointed glance that he refused to acknowledge.

Nobody except Sirius seemed to notice the look of embarrassed discomfort that flitted over Rabastan's face, but then again nobody here knew Rabastan (and his face) as well as Sirius did.

"They have already collected my sister and gone," he answered levelly. Sirius knew that he was only allowing the other adults to assume that his parents had greeted him before they'd gone, but that they really hadn't at all. He had to fight the urge to raise his fingers up to his lips as he thought about what he'd learned regarding why Rabastan's family had chosen to exclude him. With a small smile at Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella, Rabastan added, "I am staying with my brother and his lovely wife, so I will Apparate straight there."

Anymore uncomfortable questions on that or any other subject were automatically forgotten when Malfoy and Cissy appeared. Nobody else had a chance to say anything before Aunt Druella noticed the new piece of jewelry adorning her youngest daughter's hand and promptly exclaimed, "Oh!"

Walburga quickly followed suit, but neither Uncle Cygnus nor Mr. Malfoy looked the least bit surprised. Sirius supposed that Lucius had asked Narcissa's father for permission at some point. Mr. Malfoy's expression was more inscrutable than pleased, but Sirius knew that Lucius wouldn't have asked anybody to marry him without discussing it with his father beforehand, even if he might've had to fight for his father's blessing due to recent circumstances.

Sirius and Rabastan found themselves quickly shoved aside, along with Orion and Regulus, so that the couple's parents and the bride's excited aunt could crowd around the two. The four shared amused looks, and Orion addressed his sons with a jokingly accusing glare.

"It was very cruel of you two not to warn me about this. I would have worn more comfortable shoes if I had known that we were going to have to stand here waiting for your mother to finish congratulating her niece."

The three younger wizards laughed, and Rabastan added, "Somebody probably ought to have warned Lucius what would happen if he proposed before we left school."

Indeed, Malfoy was standing stiff and unhappy next to his fiancée, clearly not at all pleased by all of the very public attention their families were drawing from everybody nearby on the platform.

"Why didn't you warn him, then?" asked Regulus. "You're his best friend."

Rabastan's cruel laugh sent a shiver up Sirius's spine, and not because it made him afraid or uncomfortable.

"I just imagined the look on his face—see, that one he's making right now—and couldn't bring myself to stop him."

Sirius couldn't turn to look at Lucius's expression because he was having too much trouble tearing his eyes away from Rabastan's face. When he finally managed it he found himself instead looking again at the crowd of Gryffindor girls and their families, whose attention had yet again been drawn to Sirius's own group. Mrs. Vance was whispering something to the MacDonalds and the Evanses, and even from this distance it was clear that they were discussing the size of Narcissa's ring. He couldn't blame them for noticing, since the thing was the size of a small island, but he felt his lips form a sneer at the ill breeding. If his mother hadn't been wearing delicate gloves made of the finest lightweight Acromantula-spun silk, they would have been able to see a ring of similar size on her finger, too.

But nobody ever talked about such things in public. It was all about being seen and taking notice, and gossip was reserved for the privacy of one's own home.

He turned back to his father, friend, and brother in time to hear Orion say, "Well, Sirius certainly has my permission to go. His mother won't be pleased, but at least one of us menfolk should be allowed to escape if he can."

Sirius blinked, quite in the dark about exactly where he had permission to go, since he hadn't been paying attention. He only had a moment to register Regulus's jealous expression and his father's teasing look before Rabastan had made his farewells, hooked a hand around Sirius's wrist, and begun pulling him towards the now nearly-clear exit.

"Where are we going?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

Rabastan turned to look at him with an arched eyebrow and laughing sapphire eyes. "To Diagon Alley, of course. Should I be hurt by your inattention?"

Sirius blushed and ducked his head so that the older boy couldn't see, not that it seemed to do much good. Rabastan loosed a single laugh and tugged on Sirius's arm as he shoved his way past the families waiting to exit the platform. There was a lot grumbling and a few loud protests as they broke the queue, none of which seemed to bother Rabastan at all. He laughed again as he pulled Sirius through the barrier and past several confused Muggles, and then suddenly they were spinning and being sucked through a space the size of a straw.

Sirius's feet hit the cobblestone street hard. He pitched forward with a groan, trying desperately not to vomit, and only Rabastan's strong grip kept him upright.

"Bellatrix wasn't kidding," his friend said, clearly trying to cover the amusement in his voice with something that he probably thought approximated concern. It didn't work. "You really are horrible at Apparition."

"You didn't even warn me!" croaked Sirius.

Rabastan's hand came up to rub his back. "You have to admit that, for a pure-blood, your difficulty is pretty amusing…."

As far as Sirius was concerned, he didn't have to admit any such thing. Especially not to Rabastan Lestrange of all people. Instead of answering, he stood upright with as much grace as he could muster and straightened his silk shirt with precise movements. Partly because he was curious but mostly because he wanted to change the subject, he pointed out, "This isn't Diagon Alley."

They were standing at the mouth of a narrow, filthy alley next to the Gleaming Gytrash, Knockturn Alley's biggest apothecary. It was at the dead end of the street and was populated only by an apparently homeless witch who had set up a ramshackle shelter for herself and a few mangy cats. She was staring at them as if she'd never seen anything like them before, and Sirius wasn't sure if it was because of the unseemly display he'd made out of himself or because the sight of two wizards in clearly expensive Muggle clothing was a rare sight in Knockturn Alley.

He felt Rabastan shrug and realized suddenly how close they were to each other.

"Do you reckon your father would have let you come if I had said I wanted to bring you here?"

"Probably," replied Sirius, although he wasn't able to give a clear yes. "My mother wouldn't have, though."

"Well, I wasn't going to risk it. I've been waiting to get you alone since Hogsmeade."

Sirius swallowed and nodded, but he couldn't find any words to speak. The truth was that he had somewhat avoided being alone with his friend. He had waited until breakfast the morning after his adventure to return the other boy's wand, and after that it had been relatively easy to simply fail to find any time to meet alone between Rabastan's NEWT preparations and their Quidditch practices and James's new obsession with finding Hogwarts' secret passageways and Sirius's multiple detentions.

He didn't think Rabastan could have blamed him for it; honorable pure-blood boys simply did not go around snogging other boys without being a bit confused by the whole thing, and Sirius had needed time to think. But he also figured it would be best if he just allowed his friend to think that they'd just been unlucky, not that Sirius had been avoiding him.

Rabastan, who still had one hand wrapped around Sirius's forearm and the other splayed across his back, pulled him deeper into the narrow alley. Sirius followed reluctantly. He wasn't reluctant to accompany the older boy alone into a dark alley, exactly, but he was a bit anxious. Plus the closeness of the grimy walls and the gleaming eyes of the tramp watching their every move were unappealing, to say the least. When they were halfway between the mouth of the alley and the witch at the end of it, Rabastan spun Sirius to face him.

Their eyes met for a few seconds, and unlike in Hogsmeade, this time around Sirius could have stopped the whole thing from happening. He didn't.

Rabastan leaned down and pressed their lips together. The kiss was sweet for only a few seconds before their tongues met in a salacious tangle in Sirius's mouth. This time instead of freezing or thinking of pushing the larger boy's hands away when Rabastan wrapped them around his waist, Sirius let his fingers trail up Rabastan's soft sleeves until he could twist them into the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

Sirius was so caught up with mentally cataloguing the differences between kissing Rabastan and kissing a girl (the way he had to tilt is face up instead of down, a hard chest pressing against him, just a hint of stubble scraping against his skin) that they might have kissed for hours for all he knew.

In reality they had probably only stayed leaning against the dirty bricks for a few minutes before Rabastan pulled back and rested his forehead against Sirius's. Their hair, damp from the oppressive summer heat, tickled Sirius's face.

He opened his eyes and saw Rabastan's blue eyes gleaming back at him. He thought for a moment that the other boy was going to say something nice or romantic, and he panicked for half a second wondering what he would say in return.

Then Rabastan said, "You taste like a pumpkin pasty."

Sirius's lips, still wet from their kiss and only just beginning to swell slightly, parted in surprise quickly followed by indignation.

"Well, you are developing a worrying habit of shoving your tongue down my throat next to trash bins," he pointed out, indicating the overflowing receptacles several paces away from them.

"I hate pumpkin," added Rabastan, as if he hadn't heard.

"I deserve better than a back alley, Lestrange," retorted Sirius.

Rabastan sobered all at once, the teasing smirk slipping off of his face. He pulled back with a severe frown marring his previously happy countenance.

"You do," he confirmed, "but we can't exactly share a sundae at Fortescue's, Sirius."

"I know."

And he did. After all, Rabastan's parents had forced him out to live with his brother and hadn't even waited to speak to him at King's Cross. Sirius could only imagine what his family would do.

"I thought that I had enough freedom as a second son that I didn't have to hide my preference completely," said Rabastan, his expression still severe and serious. "I never expected my parents to let me bring a boyfriend home for tea, of course," he added, a brief smile flitting across his full lips at the thought, "but I thought that if I told them, then at least they would stop pressuring me to marry Cousin Eloise of the French Lestranges. Obviously they didn't take it well."

Sirius's stomach tightened at the thought of Rabastan marrying anybody. His nostrils flared as he exhaled the breath he'd been holding.

"And I have even less freedom than you do—"

"And an even stricter family," interjected Rabastan.

"—and a grandfather who has made his feelings about Uncle Alphard's preferences quite clear," Sirius acknowledged. He grimaced at the thought of his grandfather saying some of those hateful words about him. "I understand, Rab. Really." Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood, he added, "But if you promise to find a better location, then I'll promise to clean my teeth if I've been eating pumpkin pasties."

Rabastan laughed aloud. The witch at the end of the alley flinched visibly at the sound, which drew Sirius's attention to her. He couldn't believe that he'd forgotten her presence and snogged another boy right in front of her. His expression must have displayed the alarm he felt, because Rabastan drew his wand and turned so quickly that the resulting breeze ruffled Sirius's hair.

The Slytherin relaxed perceptibly when he saw that it was only the homeless woman from before, as opposed to someone who actually mattered. Still, Sirius thought, for all their talk about being careful, a public alley wasn't the smartest choice.

The sickly green glow had filled the alley before Sirius had time to process Rabastan's muttered "Avada Kedavra," and the witch at the end of the alley fell backwards until the upper part of her body disappeared into her haphazard shelter.

Sirius stared with wide eyes at her legs protruding out into the alley.

"Erm…" he finally began cautiously, although he wasn't actually afraid that Rabastan would do anything to him. "Was that… strictly necessary?"

Rabastan shrugged and turned his wand on himself, nonchalantly casting a Cleaning Charm as if nothing exceptional had happened.

"I'm hopeless at Memory Charms," he said as if that explained everything. He turned his Cleaning Charm on Sirius. "Besides, she was the first human I managed to kill without having to muster up the proper emotions. Dolohov will be excited."

Sirius tore his eyes away from the tatty stockings and worn boots and met Rabastan's gaze. His friend's sapphire eyes were warm and open as he surveyed the results of his handiwork on Sirius's clothes. There was no trace of anything in his eyes or his expression that gave away what he'd just done, and Sirius realized that he didn't see it as anything significantly different from the mice he'd practiced on.

It was a somewhat sobering realization, but if Sirius were honest with himself then he would have to admit that he was more troubled by the fact that he didn't really mind what Rabastan had done than actually troubled by what Rabastan had done.

"Bloody Death Eaters," he mumbled under his breath.

It must have been audible enough for Rabastan to hear, because he grinned in amusement and leaned down to press an affectionate but brief kiss to Sirius's lips.

"Come on," he said when he pulled back. "I did actually bring you here for a reason besides just that I wanted to kiss you."

They exited the narrow alley cautiously, staying back in the shadows as a hunched man in worn robes wobbled down the steps from the apothecary and made his way down the street. It wouldn't do to be caught in an alley with a dead body, after all. When the coast was clear, Rabastan led Sirius out onto the street.

As they navigated carefully over the uneven cobblestones, Sirius asked, "Well, what are we doing then?"

"Getting spare wands. Not that I really minded letting you borrow mine, but it made me think how useful it would be to have a second, unregistered wand."

He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself for the idea, and Sirius had to admit that it was a good one. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it himself after having gone through so much trouble to borrow Rabastan's and Janice's wands.

"It's illegal to have an unregistered wand," he pointed out, although he knew that would hardly matter to a Death Eater who had just performed the Killing Curse a few minutes previously.

Sure enough, Rabastan turned to pin him with an incredulous stare. "Siri, love, that's why we're in Knockturn Alley."

Life at Grimmauld Place was even more unbearable than usual because of all the wedding shit. (That's what Sirius called it in his head, but not what he'd ever dare say out loud if any Black female was anywhere in the same building.) He still refused to spend any time with his grandfather—he had even started coming down to breakfast late, after Kreacher assured him that Arcturus had left the table—but he did spend a lot of time in his father's study.

He had invited Regulus to join them, but his brother usually declined. Apparently he enjoyed the extra attention Arcturus heaped on him in Sirius's absence, plus the attention he got if he spent time with all the twittering wedding planners.

Orion had shrugged when Sirius had related this news to him. "He's always been your mother's son more than mine, Sirius, and you've always been my son more than hers."

Sirius wanted to snidely ask if his father meant that both Sirius and himself were great disappointments to his grandfather, but he knew that would hurt his father, so he determinedly pressed his lips together to keep it from coming out.

Instead they focused on lessons and determinedly avoided any uncomfortable topics. His father had taken over his lessons, since Sirius had flatly refused to go to Arcturus's study when summoned. The consequences of this arrangement were that Sirius became even more exceptional at Transfiguration and Charms, because his father was also brilliant in those subjects, but he learned absolutely nothing about Potions, because his father was even more hopeless than he was.

Their arrangement continued comfortably for several weeks, until one day Orion announced, "I want to go to Diagon Alley this morning."

Sirius looked up in surprise. "All right. Do you want me to ask Regulus?"

"No, this needs to be just the two of us," clarified his father, an expression on his face that Sirius couldn't quite read.

"He thinks you love me more than you do him," Sirius had said before he realized he'd said it. He regretted it almost the moment it left his mouth, when he saw the pained expression cross over his father's face. Still, even if it was unkind, it was the truth.

Orion wore a pinched expression and looked warily at the door, as if somebody would come bursting through it at any moment. Then he deliberately smoothed his face into its usual calm expression.

"That can't be helped today, I'm afraid."

Diagon Alley was always crowded in the summer. The press of the crowd was beyond stifling—even in summer magical folks seemed to think it was necessary to wear full robes. Sirius wondered, not for the first time, why no one had ever cast cooling spells over the alley. The cooling spells people cast individually on their clothing could only go so far.

Sirius followed Orion down the cobblestone street, past the street vendors and the crowd of kids always loitering in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, in complete silence. Something was definitely off with his father, but Sirius couldn't begin to guess what. He didn't bother to ask questions when Orion turned into Knockturn Alley. He caught a glimpse of Emmeline Vance emerging from Gringotts; she glared at him when she realized that he heading down into the Dark district, and he offered a sardonic smile before turning his back and following his father down the narrow stone stairway.

There seemed to be a lot more respect aimed in his direction when Sirius was with his father. When it had just been him and Rabastan a few weeks earlier, nobody had threatened them or anything, but people certainly had not had any compunctions about openly staring at them or trying to talk to Sirius. With Orion, the street vendors and other denizens of Knockturn Alley seemed to avoid so much as looking in his direction.

Sirius wondered what sort of things his father must have done to earn that level of deference, and he wondered how soon he would be able to match them himself.

"Now then," said Orion as they finally approached one of the buildings, "we have to meet here because home isn't safe, but don't speak to anyone else, and for Merlin's sake don't touch anything."

He'd never noticed the plain wooden door in the very corner of Knockturn Alley, but it was where Orion led him now. Orion's smart leather shoes clicked with purpose against the uneven stone steps, and when he was standing at the stop of the stoop he shot Sirius a put-upon look and wrapped his handkerchief around his hand before knocking on the door.

Sirius normally would have laughed at his father's aversion to touching the grimy wood with his bare skin, but under the circumstances he tried his best to be a good pure-blood son and keep his expression perfectly straight.

A small hatch in the door opened at eye level, which for Orion meant that it opened at about neck level. Sirius watched the watery blue eyes on the other side of the opening take in the fine robes and elaborate tie pin his father was wearing (the Black family crest done in exquisitely wrought platinum with green diamonds) before they traveled slowly up to Orion's face. Without uttering a word, the man stepped back and closed the hatch again, and a few moments later the door swung open with an ear-rending squeak.

Orion swept through the doorway with all the confidence of his station, and Sirius could only follow, although he was sure that he didn't make anywhere near as impressive an entrance.

The establishment turned out to be a pub. It was dimly lit, so Sirius couldn't make out any of the features of the wizards and witches sitting at the heavy wood tables. He supposed that was probably the point, now that he thought about it. The bar itself took up most of the wall next to the front door, and across the way a fire was roaring in the surprisingly ornate fireplace, even though it was the middle of summer.

"Mr. Black, please," the doorman said, eyeing Sirius with something between distaste and panic and placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving further into the room. "This is no place for children!"

Orion, who was several steps ahead by then, smoothly came to a halt. Sirius could tell from the way his father held his shoulders and head that he was in no mood for games, and it was confirmed when he turned slowly and pinned the doorman with a look cold enough to freeze fire.

"Are you questioning how I choose to raise my son?"

His tone was as frigid as his expression, but it was calm and even. Conversation around the room stilled as everybody strained to hear what was being said. The doorman sputtered for a few moments, and when he failed to make any real reply, Orion sniffed disdainfully.

"No, I thought not. Unhand him immediately."

The command hung in the air, no doubt buoyed by the thick tension. When the man failed to release him after a few moments, Sirius took matters into his own hands and shrugged the man away, physically removing himself from the grip and taking a step further away for good measure.

He could still smell the stale whisky that seemed to have soaked into the doorman's very being, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He hoped his robes would be salvageable; he really liked them.

"But Mr. Moribund—!" exclaimed the doorman.

"You may tell your proprietor that his debts are past due, and that if he has anything to say to me it had better be on that subject and nothing else," Orion interrupted. Sirius could see the glint of humor in his eyes, but he doubted that anyone else would have been able to read his father's expression so clearly. He didn't wait for the other man to speak again but spun on his heel and said, "Come along, Sirius."

Nobody else tried to stop them as they crossed in front of the bar towards a small door in the back of the room. Conversation slowly resumed as soon as it was clear that the confrontation was over, but if anyone was talking about Orion Black and his son, they were wise enough to say it quietly enough that Orion himself couldn't overhear them.

Orion, who seemed completely unfazed by the incident, walked into the back room of the pub as if he owned it, and his son quickened his steps to follow after him.

"That was quite a commotion," Sirius heard as he approached the doorway, but he didn't recognize the voice.

His father responded, "Yes, well, if you had not insisted that we meet here…"

"I wouldn't have insisted that we meet here if you had not insisted that we couldn't meet in Muggle London," replied the second man just as Sirius entered the room and realized who he was.

Alphard Black looked more like his sister than like any of the other men in the family. Of course, Walburga was a very attractive woman, and the resemblance worked to Alphard's advantage. His jawline was narrower and his nose a bit more upturned than Sirius's or Orion's or his own brother's, but the biggest similarities between him and his sister were in their dark curls and even darker eyes.

Those eyes stayed trained on Sirius as he closed the door at his father's request and crossed the room to take a seat at the large table.

Finally, the man leaned back precariously in his chair and said, "Hello, nephew."

Sirius couldn't imagine why his father was bringing him to a meeting with his uncle, or why his father was even meeting with his uncle in the first place. The last time he'd seen Alphard had been at Bellatrix's wedding, and he couldn't even remember the last time before that. Of course, he understood better now why his uncle probably wanted to avoid family functions, since the family members who knew of his homosexuality despised him for it, and it must be really uncomfortable to have those who didn't know (like Grandmother Irma) constantly try to set him up with marriageable women.

For a few terrible moments, Sirius thought that maybe this meeting was because his father knew. Did Sirius have some sort of sign on his forehead that made it clear that he'd been having just as many dreams lately about Rabastan naked as he had about Janice naked? Was his father kicking him out, like Rabastan's had done, and making him go live with his gay uncle?

He looked between his father and uncle with wide, frightened eyes and failed to respond to the greeting.

"What's wrong with the boy?" Alphard demanded of Orion.

"I've no idea." Orion turned to pin him with a questioning look. "Son?"

Sirius looked up and quite accidentally met his uncle's eyes as an image of Rabastan danced in front of his mind's eye and he remembered every detail of his friend's slick tongue and strong arms and sweat-damp hair. The memories made him flush with arousal and not a little embarrassment even at the best of times. Now, with his uncle's eyes boring into his, he felt as if his thoughts were exposed to the world and any hint of arousal was swamped by sick embarrassment.

"Erm, noth—nothing!" Sirius finally managed to reply. "Hello, Uncle Alphard."

Both men stared at him with curiosity and disbelief as he smoothed his expression and took his seat. Finally, Orion seemed to decide that he'd better just get to the point.

"Your uncle has agreed to help you train with Dolohov behind your grandfather's back."

Sirius's mouth fell open. "Why?"

It wasn't that he was ungrateful. He just couldn't image why on earth his father would have intentionally disobeyed Arcturus like this, or why his uncle would have agreed to go along with it. He'd never known Orion to so directly go against his father's wishes, and he'd never known Alphard to have anything in particular to do with his nephews.

"Why not?" returned Alphard. His tone made him seem amused, playful even, but his expression was serious bordering on stern. "You are my nephew, and Antonin spoke highly of you. And it isn't as if I owe any allegiance to Arcturus."

Growing up the eldest son of a wealthy, pure bloodline meant that generally Sirius had never learned the lesson that if something sounds too good to be true then it probably is. He'd always been able to get pretty much anything he'd ever desired, no matter how outlandish it seemed. The only times he'd ever been denied anything major were when he hadn't ended up in Slytherin and when Arcturus had taken away his dueling instructor.

Accordingly, after just this briefest of assurances, he completely accepted his good luck and didn't question what this might cost him and his father in the future. He smiled brilliantly at the two men, his entire expression more joyous than it had been in a long time.

Orion smiled back, clearly unable to maintain his usual serious expression in the face of his son's happiness.

"But this must be strictly secret," he warned after a few moments, when he'd managed to regain some of his composure. "If your grandfather gets wind of this, there's no guessing how serious the consequences will be."

Sirius could guess how serious they'd be, so he had to agree with his father.

"I know. But how?"

The heavy wooden legs of his chair clattered loudly against the uneven stone floor when Alphard let himself fall forward. He poured himself several fingers of whisky and then poured some for Orion as well, sliding it across the small table to him.

Alphard leaned back again in his chair and tossed back the whisky in one go.

Orion took a sip of his whisky, clearly taking time to savor the taste before answering. "We'll have to find excuses to get you out of the house as often as possible. Of course, there is simply no way that you'll be able to manage three days a week every week, or even any sort of set schedule at all."

"That's all right," interjected Sirius. "Anything is better than not seeing Dolohov at all."

Uncle Alphard's thin lips twisted into a small smile at that, but he didn't seem to have anything to contribute.

Orion's bark-like laugh filled the cramped space. "I'm glad you're so excited, seeing how much we are both risking for this."

It occurred to Sirius that he ought to be curious exactly why his father was willing to risk it just so that his son could have dueling lessons. But his eyes slid back over to his uncle, who was still scrutinizing him with that same surprised, stern gaze, and he figured that this was neither the time nor the place to ask his father to answer that question.

"Quidditch practice," Sirius said into the silence that had settled over the cramped stone room, part of a plan already half formed in his mind. "James takes Quidditch more seriously than anybody I've ever met, and he's determined to be Seeker next year and to be named captain. If I were to suggest that we practice over the summer, I know that he'd immediately set up a schedule. For, say, two afternoons a week…"

"And we'd tell your mother and grandfather that it's four days a week," filled in his father, a smile tugging at the corners of his thin lips.

Sirius smiled back. "Exactly. Plus if either of them ever wants to verify it, we can just make sure that they visit on days when we're actually practicing."

"In all lies there is wheat among the chaff," said Alphard with a wry grin cutting across his serious mien. "Are you sure the boy isn't in Slytherin?"

"It amazes me as much as it does you," replied Orion with another laugh.

Probably even a year ago Sirius would have read some sort of censure or disappointment into his father's words, but now he only smiled back.

The deep red gemstone eyes of his ring glinted in the candlelight, as if the golden, roaring lion were daring anybody to question Sirius's status as a Gryffindor. It was in stark contrast to the silver-colored snakes he could see coiled around his father's and uncle's fingers, but it no longer bothered him nearly as much as it had in the past.

After all, there was nothing that said Gryffindors couldn't be sly and cunning, even if bravery happened to be a more dominant personality trait.

Sirius himself had thus far managed to walk the tightrope between his friends like Potter and his friends like the Lestranges with what he thought was a fair amount of success. He'd managed to keep his girlfriend a secret from all of his family except his father, whom he'd told on purpose, and now he was doing a pretty good job of keeping his relationship with Rabastan a secret from his family and his friends and his girlfriend.

And now he was conspiring to lie to his family in order to disobey his grandfather's express instructions. If he hadn't been there when he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, he probably wouldn't quite believe it himself!

"Yes, well," Alphard cut into his musings, "now is as good a time as any."

The front legs of his chair clattered against the stone again as he let himself fall forward, then scraped quite noisily along floor when he pushed back from the table and stood to his full height—perhaps as tall as Arcturus, but not as tall as Orion, and with a significantly narrower frame than either of them.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something—what exactly he hadn't figured out yet—but Orion beat him to it.

"His mother expects him home for lunch."

Alphard waved his hand dismissively. "So he ran into some of his friends in Diagon Alley and you allowed him to spend the rest of the afternoon with them. A boy needs some freedom from his mother, after all."

It was as good a plan as any, and Sirius couldn't deny that he was dying to start dueling again. Right away sounded good to him. He had his wand tucked into the sheath strapped to his forearm (and his spare wand strapped into a new sheath on his opposite arm, just in case), and he really didn't need anything else.

He stood to follow his uncle with a lot of excitement and only a little trepidation. He knew from the indulgent look on Orion's face that his father wasn't going to deny him; it was the same expression his father always wore before Sirius got a new treat or just one more toy than he'd been promised or a smile instead of a punishment when he'd pulled some prank against his brother.

Sirius offered his father another smile. "I wouldn't tell Mother that last part, though."

"Certainly not!" answered Orion over his brother-in-law's loud laughter.

I have been using SnitchSeeker's map of Knockturn Alley from their Diagon Alley RPG. The Gleaming Gytrash and Moribund's Pub are both their inventions.

"In all lies there is wheat among the chaff" is a quotation from Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Chapter 11. I don't think that either Sirius or Orion knew it was a quotation, but Alphard apparently has some interest in Muggle literature.