A/N: Yay to the all the people who reviewed…You people have to review!! REVIEW!
Oh yes and this chapter exists because I was helped by anyanka00 for ideas and such so huzzah for her. Sirius would also not be the angsty individual he is without her, as she kind of took over his dialogue. Three cheers for anyanka! And now…

            Mr. Potter and James left the Leaky Cauldron and headed to the secret entrance of Diagon Alley.

            "Three up…two across," muttered Mr. Potter, as he tapped the wall three times with his wand. "There we go…"

            A large archway came into view leading to a long winding cobbled street and Mr. Potter and James entered Diagon Alley.

            "First stop at Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions for your school uniform," said Mr. Potter, checking the supplies list. "Then we'll go to Flourish and Bott's."

            Fifteen minutes later, James was telling the assistant at Flourish and Bott's what schoolbooks he needed. While he was waiting for the assistant to find A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, he noticed another boy who looked to be about his age. The boy was slightly taller than James and did not appear to be accompanied by an adult. He ordered his books with a lazy drawl, but James noticed that he was shuffling his feet nervously.

            "Hey," he greeted the stranger. The boy looked surprised to be spoken to.

            "Hi," he replied, uncertainly.

            "Hogwarts, too?" James asked.

            "Yeah, a first year. How about you?"

            "It's my first year, too. What's your name?"

            "Sirius." Said the boy. He seemed unwilling to elaborate.

            "I'm James Potter and this is my dad." Mr. Potter shook Sirius' hands.

            "Nice to meet you," he said. "Are your parents with you?"

            "No," said Sirius, looking rebellious. "They didn't want--I mean I came by myself."

            "Oh I see," said Mr. Potter. "Well, would you like to accompany James and me? We still need to go to Apothecary and Ollivanders. Have you gotten your robes already?"

            Sirius seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he agreed.

            "Sure, why not?" he said. "I've already gone to the Apothecary and Madame Malkin's, but I still need my wand and stuff too."

            "Cool," said James, and the threesome left the bookstore carrying a heavy load.

            Mr. Ollivanders was very old with a long pale face and wide eyes.

            "Hello, Mr. Potter, how are you these days? It seems just yesterday that you were in here buying your wand. Ebony and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, nice and supple, was it not?"

            "It was, sir, it was. Good to see you again."

            "James Potter. I thought I would find you here today. Let's see if we can hook you up with a wand." He began pulling down boxes of wands. James chose the first wand he tried: a pliable mahogany wand, which was apparently good for transfiguration. Then Mr. Ollivanders turned to Sirius.

            "Now you must be from the noble and most ancient—"

            "Can we please cut to the chase?" said Sirius, a trifle irritably. James looked at him in surprise.

            "House of Black," Mr. Ollivanders finished. "You are Sirius." Sirius was rather sullen while he tried different wands from the everlasting pile of boxes that Mr. Ollivanders set in front of him. Mr. Ollivanders continued to reminisce about Sirius' parents and grandparents and their wands. During his monologue, Sirius' expression continually worsened. When Sirius finally found a wand to suit him, he left with the Potters.

            "How about some ice creams now, huh?" suggested Mr. Potter jovially. "My treat." Sirius' face brightened although he seemed unwilling to accept favors from Mr. Potter. James finally convinced him, however, and they went to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for huge chocolate ice cream cones.

            "You didn't tell us you were a Black," James murmured to Sirius, while Mr. Potter was ordering.

            "Does it matter?" asked Sirius bitterly. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm not a part of them."

            "Is that why you didn't want us to know?"

            "Sort of." Their conversation then came to an abrupt end as Mr. Potter returned with the ice creams. James had just opened his mouth to ask Sirius what Quidditch team he supported, when Sirius burst out:

            "I'm not a pure-blood maniac!" Both Mr. Potter and James turned toward him in surprise. Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow.

            "What do you mean?

            "You know what I mean," said Sirius. "Who hasn't heard of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

            "Er," said James.

            "What should we have heard about it?" asked Mr. Potter, casually.

            "What bloody bastards they are! What kind of gits call themselves the noble and most ancient house…it sounds SO stuck-up." Sirius paused, took a deep breath and resumed his ranting, the words coming out in a flood.

            "I listen to the Rolling Stones, okay, and they are Muggles. So the hag comes in and just throws them out, screaming about how I'm poisoning her blood line or some rot like that...I tell her that it's only music…I mean its not like I married a Muggle, and that wouldn't be that horrible anyway. But I couldn't tell her that...and then my brother comes in...and my father tells me that only a Mudblood loving ponce dresses like I do and listens to my music...how I'm such a disgrace…I suppose I shouldn't have told them to shut the hell up, but seriously, they have no right to be so self-righteous!" Sirius was breathing heavily and glaring.

            "I like the Rolling Stones," commented James, mildly. "That's bloody awful, mate."

            "Well, there isn't necessarily anything wrong with being proud of your bloodline. You can still be proud of being a Black while being open-minded," said Mr. Potter, with such caring in his voice that Sirius felt a lump in his throat.

            "I'm not proud to be a part of them," he said, gruffly.

"I do realize from what you've told me that they aren't open-minded…but they are your family after all, and you belong to them. But on the bright side, now that you're going to Hogwarts, you won't see them for an entire year!" Sirius actually smiled.

"I know. It's all that keeps me going. That and terrifying the hag."

"What'd you do to her?" asked James, grinning.

"Put wasps in her clothes. It was pretty damn funny to see her itching away down there until my father cast a spell to make her stop." Sirius gave a short laugh, which sounded like a bark. "Wow, she'd kill me if she heard this conversation."

"Yeah, I was wondering," said James, "you don't go telling your life story to every stranger on the street, do you?"

"Well you know, I must go along with that whole "naïve poncey prat" image that the hag is so into. Yeah, I probably shouldn't tell you all this, huh? Oh well, it doesn't matter. I trust you. See, I've heard of the Potters. My parents hate you, so you must be all right."

Mr. Potter chuckled, and then checked his watch.

"Well, we'd better be heading home now. Will you be all right getting home?"

"Yeah," said Sirius. "I'll be fine. See you at Hogwarts, James."

"Bye! It was bloody brilliant meeting you!"

A/N: Okay for this extremely long chapter, there is no reason u should NOT review. Was Sirius' angstiness ok? How about Daddy Potter's father figure-ness? REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW