A/N: This is chapter 2, though it does skip ahead two and a half years. I was originally going to have this story parallel Moon Howling, but after finishing that one, I decided that I wanted this to be a continuation of that universe, told by Sirius' eyes. You could consider it a sequel, though sequels typically focus on the same point-of-view. Chapter 1 is basically just an introduction to Sirius' life before Hogwarts, and this chapter picks up right where MH left off – the end of their second year (MH ends somewhere near the beginning of that year). If you haven't read MH, you probably won't understand a lot of this, so you might just want to read that one – it's short, I promise J Enjoy!
Diamond in the Rough
Chapter 02: Swirling Waters of the Mind
I knew there was a reason that I never liked my Uncle Vince. I may have known very little about him, as a child, but I had that odd intuition (or perhaps over-active imagination) that nagged at me more than Lily ever did poor James. Vince never went out of his way to protect me, like he did with ickle Peterkins. If the school bully was after me with a blunt object, that was my problem. At best, he would notice long enough to have a hearty laugh, and then coo over the beautiful landscape that Peter had made in art class (somehow, his mountains always resembled pig heads. Don't ask how).
I never liked Peter either. I learned to tolerate him, eventually. Otherwise, I would have gone out of my mind. Some might argue that I have gone out of my mind, but I beg to differ. If I had known what a complete … well, *expletive*, Peter would turn out to be, I would have become quite smug in my assessment of him, as a whiny little first-year. Saved our butts or not, he was annoying.
And Remus couldn't have made it harder on me, to hate the pudgy excuse for a human being. He pitied the brat. I guess there's some sort of Unwritten Code for Wizard Misfits. They have to stick up for each other or something like that. Remus almost seemed to like the guy. But whenever he got away from Peter, I could always see a change in his eyes; something like sadness being lifted from his soul or maybe it was just relief on his tolerance capabilities. But I guess I do have to envy Wolf-Boy. I could never be as good a person as he was.
I wonder what happened to Remus. He was so different after our second year…like there was a deep secret embedded within him. I never did find out what happened to him while James and I were conked out, hidden away in that secret room. Then, later, I was too busy celebrating my freedom to deal with trivial matters (selfish little twit, aren't I?).
Too bad I couldn't have been freed from Peter, as well.
June, 1970
"But, Professor - !"
"No ifs, ands, or buts, Sirius. You're going to live with this man, and Peter's going with you."
Sirius' face was going red and he felt the familiar boiling sensation on the top of his head. One more word, and steam was going to pour out of his ears.
"I understand that you have no regrets for the recent death of your uncle, but you need to understand Peter's grief. At least try to be sympathetic."
Cue the steam. "Sympathetic?! You want me to be sympathetic to a git like that?!"
McGonagall's eyes were beginning to match Sirius' cheeks. She might be a stern teacher, but he had quickly discovered that she would have been an awful mother. She just didn't have the patience to deal with insubordinance. "Sirius. I am ashamed of you. Not only did you go out of your way to be cruel to Peter the past year, but to say something like that, at a time like this, is unacceptable."
"Well, then expel me, by all means. I know it's what you're all wanting to do, anyway."
She was silent. He smirked slightly, thinking he had won. But he knew better: never let your guard down, even when the enemy is backing down. They could always retaliate with a stab in the back.
She aimed for his heart, instead. "You wouldn't want to disappoint your parents like that, would you, Sirius?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He blinked, closing his lips as he realized that he had nothing to retaliate with. He had always figured that he disappointed them anyway…no point in trying to impress someone that was dead.
"Yes, Sirius. Your parents would be highly disappointed if you did not complete your education at Hogwarts. They had great aspirations for you."
He sank down into the chair before McGonagall's desk, rubbing at his tired eyes. "Did you…did you know my parents?" he whispered hoarsely.
Professor McGonagall's expression softened considerably. Her youthful eyes regarded the boy before her for a long moment, trying to discern the source of his actions. Was he merely trying to gain sympathy from her, or was this the true Sirius? She shrugged to herself, and answered truthfully. "Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. Your mother and I were good friends during our school days."
The ghost of a smile flashed across his face, but it disappeared before she could so much as blink. "Well, it's good to know that someone remembers her. Vince didn't, and I never did, obviously."
Maybe it was the true Sirius she was seeing. "Other people remember her, I'm sure. Professor Dumbledore was our Transfigurations teacher. Professor Binns taught History of Magic when he was alive, as well. Your mother was quite popular, as I remember."
He shrugged. "Memory isn't important, anyway. We always twist it into our contorted images of life." He stood up, eyes red from rubbing them awake. "I'll just go pack now, I suppose. Thanks, Professor."
Raising an eyebrow, she only nodded, watching him go silently.
It wasn't much. It was tiny, it was old, it was run-down, but it was four walls and a roof. It was better than a shack. And it had running water. It would do.
Sirius lowered his hand from his forehead, blinking as the sun hit his eyes, now unshielded against the light. He readjusted the grip on his trunk, and hauled it forward, not bothering to look back, to make sure that Peter was following. He almost hoped that he wasn't.
"You must be Peter!" the old man cried.
Sirius let out a small chuckle, almost chiding the man. He held back any replies he may have had at that moment, remembering the short lesson he'd had on cordiality, compliments of James and Remus.
"No! I'm Peter," the stout boy answered. "That's Sirius." He pointed a chubby finger at the dark-haired boy.
Sirius threw him a glare. Watch it, boy. We're not foster brothers anymore. I could leave you alone with Ol' Wheezer here quicker than you could say 'Alohomora.' Oh, that's right. You can't say 'Alohomora.' He smirked to himself.
The old man chuckled, striding across the crabgrass lawn to clap a hand on Sirius' back. "Well, pardon me, Sirius! They didn't tell me what either of you would be like, at all. I had a hunch, though…funny how wrong we can be."
Sirius glanced sideways at the man, wrinkling his nose as he caught a whiff of L'eau de Vache*. He was not fond of giant, furry animals – unless they were safely pictured in textbooks. "That's all right, sir," he choked out.
"Oh, no, call me Holden. Holden Granger."
There was a snicker behind him. Sirius turned to glare back at Peter again, but the boy's smirk was covered with his hand. Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Well, it's nice to meet you Mr., er, Holden," Sirius finally answered.
Holden smiled, and grabbed Sirius' trunk from him. "I'll just go put this in your room, you go ahead and have a look around the place. You too, Peter."
Peter dropped his trunk with a thud. There was no fighting him for the opportunity to let other people do his work.
Sirius shrugged, tucked his hands into his robe pockets, and strode off towards the woods, as Holden dragged the black trunk into the tiny house. He broke through the line of trees and instantly found himself standing at the edge of a lake. It was only a few feet deep, as he could see straight through the crystal-clear water to the smooth pebbles at the bottom. He hung his head for a moment, gazing down at it and watching the tiny black fish dart in and out of the water plants.
Peter came up beside him after a matter of minutes, but he remained quiet. Sirius was surprised. He had never known such a thing to be possible. After awhile, the silence became unnerving, and so he began to move down the shoreline, stepping over fallen branches. Peter followed him.
He whirled around to face the younger boy. "Is there something you want, Peter? Because I'm not in the mood to be annoyed right now, trust me. Underage Wizard Law or no, I will blast you into next Tuesday if you so much as squeak."
Peter drew back from Sirius slightly. He lowered his gaze, and Sirius panicked for a moment – was that a hurt look he just gave him? But before Sirius could ask, Peter had turned away, headed back towards the house.
Well, no use worrying about it now.
He sighed, and kept walking along the edge of the lake, glancing towards the water every once in awhile, pleased to note that it seemed to deepen as he continued. It might be big enough to swim in, after all…
"Did you tell him?"
"Did I tell him? Of course not!"
He froze. Voices? Out here? Where on earth could they be coming from? He didn't dare look around, for fear of disturbing the people that were whispering hurriedly…somewhere…
"Good. Be sure he doesn't know."
"I'm not stupid."
"I never said that you were."
"Whatever." There was a dull "pop!" and then the voices stopped. Another "pop!" soon followed, and Sirius blinked in confusion. The people must have Disapparated away. Had they known he was listening? No, that was impossible. He shook his head as a slight chill ran down his spine, and shrugged the voices out of his mind. It was no matter – they were gone now. He glanced towards the lake water again –
And stopped.
As if things couldn't possibly get any weirder, the lake was turning colors. First red, then green. It was starting to tinge a bit purple at the edges. He recoiled, stepping as far back from the water as he could get, while still keeping it in plain sight. "What the heck is going on here?!"
"It's the Powers," he heard a tiny voice whisper.
Sirius' eyes narrowed. "PETER!" he yelled. "Are you doing this on purpose?!"
"Doing what?" the boy asked, stepping out from behind the trees.
"Turning the lake colors! Freaking me out!"
Peter shook his head, but he did not seem surprised at the natural phenomenon occurring in front of him. "No, I just told you. It's the Powers."
"What the heck are Powers?"
Peter's eyes went rolling around as he breathed out a haughty sigh. "Honestly, Sirius, didn't you pay attention to Daddy?"
He tossed Peter a glare for the umpteenth time that day, his gaze now murderous. "No, Peter, I didn't pay attention to 'Daddy,' as I was too busy trying to keep a six-foot gorilla from including my brains in its evening stew! And before you ask, yes, he did set a gorilla on me, once. I had taken something out of his desk drawer – never you mind what I took, just…well, he set a gorilla on me, for God's sake! When was I going to have the time to listen to the bloody git?!"
Peter's lip was quivering. "Daddy never did anything like that!"
Sirius rolled his eyes this time, throwing his hands into the air. "Forget it! Just forget it! I don't care what Powers are, as long as they stop turning this lake water into a hippie LSD trip!"
The colors stopped. Within moments, the lake had returned to its normal transparent sheen.
Sirius gawked. "Don't tell me I did that."
Peter shrugged, and turned to leave. He took one step before Sirius thrust out his hand and yanked Peter back by the hood of his robes. "What. Are. Powers. Peter?"
Peter squeaked. Then, remembering Sirius' earlier threat, he clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from doing it again.
"I'm not going to curse you, you prat! What are Powers?!"
"They're…they're special. Not everyone h-has them."
"Well, obviously. Otherwise, I would know about them, now wouldn't I?"
The whole of Peter's body was shaking now. "I told Daddy to tell you! I did! He made me swear to keep it secret! It's not my fault!"
"Of course not. It's never your fault, is it?" Sirius' eyes had now narrowed to mere slits, but he kept his grip on Peter's robes firm. "Tell me what they are, Peter, or I may resort to Muggle methods of persuasion."
"They're Powers! You have Powers, okay? You can do things that other people can't."
Sirius snorted. He let Peter go, nearly tossing him backwards. "Yeah, right. Sirius Black, the orphan the no one wants, likes, or gives a flying broomstick about, has special powers? That's a good one."
"I like you!" Peter vehemently stated.
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Only when there's something in it for you. What do you want this time? A cookie? Chocolate Frog? Well, I don't have any."
Peter frowned, straightening the collar of his robes. "You don't want to know what Powers are."
"Well, that's perceptive. Yes, Peter, I'm standing here, screaming at you and yanking you around like a rag-doll, just to keep you from telling me what Powers are."
Peter stuck his chin out defiantly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm not telling you."
"Fine by me. Just don't whine when my Powers seep out of my brain at night and kill you, because I have no way of controlling them, because, gee, I don't know what they are!"
Peter let out a "hmph!" of disapproval, and stalked off towards the house once more. Sirius sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he turned back to the lake.
It was tainted a nice shade of chartreuse.
"Sirius, this is your room. It's not much, but it should be comfortable for two months." Holden lit a candle with his wand and handed it to Sirius. It was dim, but the instant that Sirius set it on his dresser, it illuminated the entire closet-sized room. Sirius frowned in satisfaction, realizing that it was charmed to do so.
"I put your trunk under your bed, feel free to unpack at your own leisure. I'm not one for packing and unpacking a lot, myself."
Sirius nodded, and sat down on the foot of his bed, testing out the mattress. It was squishy, and it wasn't as big as his bed at Hogwarts, but it would definitely do. After all, he reminded himself, I could be sleeping in a cardboard box, with Peter snoring in my ear.
Holden clicked the door shut then, and disappeared down the tiny hallway to Peter's room. Sirius could hear their voices through the wall, but easily tuned them out and turned around to peer out his window. It was directly across from his bed, as it had been at Vince's house, except it now faced east, so that the sun would be waking him in the mornings. He groaned. It didn't look like he would be sleeping in, anytime soon.
Sighing, he kicked off his dragon-hide boots and slid under the musty covers of the bed. They reminded him, oddly enough, of a grandmother's house – though he had never had a grandmother. They had that smell of years gone by, but were unused enough to be almost considered new.
Not even bothering to take his robes off, he laid his head down on his pillow, and promptly fell fast asleep.