Diamond in the Rough
Chapter One
"Sirius, you prat. Stop stealing my wand!"
Sirius winced at the expression on his uncle's face and handed the slim wooden rod back to the tall, dark man. He scowled past the man, landing his gaze on a younger boy, who clung to his father with an infant-like fervor.
"Now go fix Peter a sandwich. I have to work."
"You make the bloody sandwich! I'm not his servant!" Sirius protested, as Peter shrunk against his father, avoiding Sirius' penetrating glare.
Uncle Vince clenched his hands into fists. "Honestly. Why couldn't you be more like Remus?!"
Peter started whining, clinging to his father's cloak. He had seen the forthcoming torrent more than once in the past week.
"Why must you insist that I be more like some ill, brainy prick that's never been out of his house?!"
Peter was then left without a cloak to cling to, as his father swept across the room, grabbed Sirius by the scruff of his neck, and thrust him into his bedroom.
"Forget the sandwich. But just see how long you can stay in here without cursing or speaking back to me!" Vince bellowed, blocking the doorway.
Sirius climbed onto his bed and turned his back to the door, gazing straight out the window. Arms crossed over his chest, he said nothing. Vince left then, slamming the door behind him and brushing past the frightened nine-year-old in the hallway.
"What about my sandwich?" Peter squeaked.
Uncharacteristically, Vince did not answer the plump boy. He had a few choice words to remark, but did not enjoy the idea of having yet another sulking boy in his house.
Sirius remained in his room, finally lying on his back and folding his arms behind his head. He really couldn't blame his uncle. Any man would react irrationally to such a threat in his home. Vince simply wanted his son to be as powerful a wizard as he, but Peter was practically a Squib – and, of course, Sirius couldn't help but "flaunt his abilities" by stealing Vince's wand once in a while.
"Since when did being talented become a curse?" he muttered to himself.
Not that he wasn't modest, of course.
The letter came in June. Vince was nearly gone everyday by that point, claiming to have business to attend to. Sirius knew for a fact, thought, that "business" comprised of one Rowena Lupin. He had his suspicions about the matter however: Uncle Vince was simply incapable of affection.
But Sirius was grateful for the absence of his so-called uncle. It gave him an opportunity to majick live rats between Peter's bedsheets and watch the Squib-wonder squirm in his sleep. It also gave him an ample window of time to receive his Hogwarts acceptance letter without parental supervision. Vince was quite convinced that Sirius would be home-schooled (as a Muggle, no doubt), so that Peter might catch up to his older cousin in a few years' time. Sirius couldn't help but think that it would take a lifetime, at the very least.
But, thankfully, the letter did come, and it was at a time when Peter was busy blasting aliens on Wizard-vison and Uncle Vince was nowhere to be seen. Sirius had been waving a crude stick in the air, willing it to show some semblance of a wand, when the tawny barn owl flew right through their window, landing with a resonating thud on the kitchen table. Sirius dropped the stick and ran at the owl, nearly frightening it away in his fervent lunge. He ripped open the envelope as soon as he grasped it, unfolding the letter with eager eyes.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Black,
Please excuse this owl's performance. Our gamekeeper,
Rubeus Hagrid, neglected to remember that not all magical creatures take well to whiskey. A healthy bowl of water may be of aid to the animal, if you so wish. However, I imagine you find this situation highly amusing.
Back to the purpose of this letter, it is to notify you of your acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope to see your reply no later than June 12th.
Best regards to you and your family,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Sirius rose a single eyebrow as he finished, glancing at the tawny owl once more. It was now staggering across the table in a drunken stupor, its eyes glazed over.
"Hagrid, did she say?" he wondered aloud. "Blimey, must be a great ol' git. Must meet him."
Peter had left the WV at the sound of the owl's landing, and now stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Sirius with apt curiosity. "What's that?" he asked the older boy.
Sirius scowled. "You'll never know, now will you?" he teased, tucking the letter away. His eleventh birthday was in a week. He had enough time to scrounge up Vince's old books and reply. He'd worry about getting his own wand later.
Sirius Black was placed under the careful eye of Vincent Pettigrew by default. Had he had any say in the matter, he would have rather disappeared without a trace, along with his parents. But that wasn't the way things had turned out, and it didn't make for a very interesting story to tell his schoolmates. He would sit in the center of the room at Mugwump Primary School, relating his poor-little-orphan-boy saga to the class, but would soon find the attention drawn away from him, for lack of information. So what, if he hadn't known the circumstances surrounding the matter? So what, if he hadn't seen if they were killed or not? Being deprived of his appetite for attention soon coerced him into making the details himself. He had a different story every year, but his latest was, by, far, his favorite.
He had sat in the center of the grade five class, surrounded by the same, familiar faces – sprinkled with a few newcomers – all of them waiting with bated breath to hear his story again. He sucked in his breath, and looked around slyly before beginning. He found that it helped set the mood.
"Well, I was only a year old. Oddly enough, my memories go back that far…I remember, we had gone for a walk, Mum pushing me in my stroller and Dad with his cane – he had broken his hip in the war against Grindelwald, you know – and we found ourselves in the park. The sun was just setting, and you could see the full moon rising. I heard wolves howling, and I know they were werewolves – what else could they be? But then I heard my mum scream, and my Dad's cane flew out of his hand as he was tackled to the ground by an actual, rabid vampire! No clue how vampires get rabies, 'magine it's like a dog – but my poor mum tried to fight it off. 'NO!' she kept screaming, and what could little me do? I cried. I cried and cried, and that vampire turned on me, with its nasty red eyes peering straight down into my soul. I felt like dying right then and there, but no! No! The vampire went back to my dad and sucked all of his blood out. Mum was screaming like a banshee, beating the Undead thing to a pulp. 'Course, it didn't matter much, you can't beat a vampire. And when it was done with me Dad, it grabbed my mum and sucked all her blood!"
He would pause hear, waiting for the information to sink in and the quiet gasps of disbelief to escape his listener's lips.
"But when I was the only living thing left out there, that night, that nasty old vampire had had its fill, and left me to my poor self. There I was, barely out of infancy, left in the dead of the night. My dead parents were lying around me, and I was getting mighty hungry. I must have stayed there for hours and hours, just waiting for someone to help me, but of course, no one did."
Pause for sympathy. He smirked inwardly as he saw the girls' eyes watering.
"But then, weeks later, this ugly old man was hobbling down the street with his own son, just a baby, and saw me lying on the street with two dead people. He broke out into laughter – why, I still don't know. I imagine it was the absurdity of the situation. It looked as though I had been the murderer, caught red-handed. Well, that ugly old man picked me up and carried me to his house. I never saw me parents again and I never knew any different. But now I live in the tiniest room of his house, eating only the scraps of his dog's dinner. I get water when I beg for it, and new clothes if I sing and dance for his son. All in all, though, it could be worse."
"Oh, Sirius!" several of the girls cried. One of them actually ran to hug him, wiping her tears on her shirt.
He was convulsing with laughter inside. "Yes, yes. But whenever I see the full moon, I can't help but think of the way things could be, and then do you know what I do?" he asked the audience.
"What, Sirius? What?" they asked.
"I cry like a banshee, I do."
The girls broke out into sobs. The boys glanced uncertainly at one another. Surely the Sirius they knew couldn't shed tears…could he? Sirius was passing out from suffocation of too much laughter, on the inside.
Too bad that wasn't the way that things had really happened.
The last time the matter had been questioned, Sirius had been seven years old. He had suddenly decided that his entire existence was a lie and that he would devote his life to discovering the truth. Of course, he was, by then, already known to carry off in such whimsical fantasies of reality. With a bold gesture on his part, he had approached Vincent Pettigrew after dinner one night, his chin held high in his signature of maturity.
"Uncle Vince?" he had asked.
The man grunted in answer.
"I think I'm old enough to know why my parents are gone, don't you?" The prideful chin was slowly drooping.
Uncle Vince turned languidly, peering down at the dark-haired boy. "Whaddya mean?"
"I mean, could you please tell me why I live with you, and not my parents - …sir?" He threw in the title as a last resort, noticing the look of seething anger that had suddenly erupted below the surface of his uncle's eyes.
The older man grunted again, half-smirking. "Curious, are you? Not as grateful of my hospitality?"
"No, no! That's not it at all - …sir… I just want to know the truth. I have a right to know."
"Since when did this become Parliament?"
"When you claimed yourself dictator."
Vince nodded. "Ah…then…as dictator, I must decree that Parliament no longer exists, and you have no rights. G'day." He went back to his work, whisking his wand out and waving it over a sheaf of parchment.
Sirius scowled at his uncle's back, picturing boils rising all along the man's neck and shoulders, in his mind. Smirking to himself, he didn't notice little Peter toddle up to his father, thumb planted firmly in mouth.
"Daddy, Daddy! Why don't Sirius' parents love him?" Peter asked, tugging on Vince's robes.
Sirius cocked his head to the side in a dog-like manner. My, my, Petrov. You can actually be useful at times…
Vince yanked his robes out of the boy's grasp. "Because they've disappeared, and I've taken it upon myself to raise their son – seeing as how I was their best friend years ago."
"Dis-app-ar-ated?" Peter questioned, smacking his lips with each syllable.
"No, Peter. Disappeared. Left. Departed. Withdrawn," Vince growled, his impatience wearing thin.
"Oh."
So that was it. That was it? No vampires, no werewolves, no fighting Dark wizards? Sirius had always imagined it to be something more fanciful and unrealistic. They were his parents, after all. They had to have had some sort of imagination – a sense of humor! - didn't they?
Well, no. He took that back. Of course they had a sense of humor. They had left him with no one but Vince Pettigrew in his life.
A/N: A couple notes…first of all, no, Vince does not have a wife, and yes, Peter Pettigrew is his son. I know, the whole matter of Peter's mother being sent Peter's finger after he died and all…don't worry, she's not dead. She and Vince are more like…separated. Secondly, Vince is not Sirius' actual uncle. He just calls him that as a term of "endearment." Peter's a year younger than Sirius, and I just figured there would always be some sort of rivalry between them. Just keep in mind that Sirius isn't really being that vicious – he's a sarcastic soul, like moi, and lets that get in the way of "niceties." Other things will be answered as they come about…yadda yadda yadda. Oh yeah. This starts at the same time that Remus' story does. And I'm sorry that I'm not done with Remus' story yet! It will be finished soon, never fear. Peace out.