CHAPTER 8

The House of Potter

James and his parents stopped the car outside a large house in the midst of London hustle and bustle. It was around the same size as Sirius', yet cheerier. It was white with blue trimmings, with the greenest shrubs that he had ever seen outside the parlor windows. It wasn't an enormous house, but it was large enough. James opened the car door and held it open for Sirius as he ascended onto the sidewalk.

"Usually we use Floo Powder," James said, "but Mum wanted to show off her new bushes. And Dad's proud of his station wagon. Don't ask me why. Muggle transportation always takes so long. And it's very cramped," he added, massaging his shoulder.

Sirius followed James and his parents to the front door, where it opened immediately to a bright shining face with the biggest pair of eyes imaginable. The house elf was donned in a plaid jumper, with one red and worn mitten on her left hand. She squealed when she saw James, and embraced him as soon as he stepped in the door.

"Oh, Master James!" she said, her skinny little arms locking around his legs. "Sprite is so happy to see you!"

"Hello, Sprite," James said, patting her on the back. Then he stood up, looked at Sirius, and mussed his hair again. "This is Sirius Black. My friend from school. He's the one staying in Wendy's old room."

Sprite's eyes grew larger, if it was physically possible, and she latched onto Sirius's neck, weighing him down to a leaning position. "Oh, Master Sirius! Sprite is so glad to meet you for the very first time! It is cause for celebration! It is a happy day that we have company! Could Sprite do anything for Master Sirius? Is Master Sirius hungry? Is Master Sirius thirsty?"

"No, I'm fine," Sirius said, somewhat taken aback. He wasn't used to house elves acting like this. Kreacher was always complaining about something or other, and waiting for the day when he could be added to the collection of elf heads sported on the wall.

"Master and Mistress Potter! Returned from Hogwarts! How was Master and Mistress Potter's journey?" Sprite eagerly took their cloaks and hung them on the coat hanger next to the door. "Long? Tiring? Is Master and Mistress Potter hungry? Is-"

"No, that's quite all right, Sprite," Mr. Potter said, and then he winked at Sirius.

"Come, Sirius, dear," Mrs. Potter said, "I'll show you to your room. That suitcase looks quite heavy."

"Oh, let Sprite carry Master Sirius's suitcase! Mistress Potter wouldn't want to injure herself on the way upstairs! Let Sprite help Mistress Potter!" Sprite took hold of the suitcase and tried to drag it to the foot of the staircase, but it was useless. The suitcase was larger than her.

"Here, I'll take it," James said, and he lifted the suitcase with Sprite still attached to the handle. She wouldn't let go as he carried it up the stairs and into the long corridor.

"That's quite all right, Master James," she squeaked as they entered Sirius's room, "Sprite can manage it."

Sirius followed the two into the room and looked around. Mrs. Potter's description of the room had been an understatement.

Everything from the floor to the ceiling was painted fluorescent pink. Even the frilly pillows and the laced drapes were some shade of pink. Pink everywhere. Sirius blinked.

James blushed, turning the color of the room. "Sorry, Sirius. It was either this or share the couch with Uncle Charlie. And Uncle Charlie isn't a very good roommate."

"Yes, Master Charles makes large noises from his behind during the night, Master Sirius," Sprite offered. "When Sprite least expects it, Master Charles makes a sound louder than a foghorn. It scares Sprite, Master Sirius."

Sirius decided to take the flowering room instead, and James and Sprite called his decision wise.

"Well, dinner's in an hour," James informed Sirius before leaving the room with Sprite at his heels. "Hope to see you downstairs."

Sirius waved after them and then went to unpacking his things.

He wondered what his lovely parents were doing right now. Probably welcoming Aunt Elladora and her three daughters into their filthy house. Narcissa was going back for the holidays, he knew. And Andromeda and Bellatrix must have been joining them. Bellatrix was enough to make his hair stand on end. He hated her and Narcissa. The only cousin he could stand was Andromeda. The two of them usually stayed together for moral support. Sometimes Uncle Alphard would tag along with the two of them, and then take them out to see the sights. He came from the country, and usually didn't get to see London. Regulus, Sirius's younger brother, would sit with Aunt Elladora and let her fawn over him like a little puppy. It made Sirius sick.

He took out his cloaks and set them neatly in the pink closet. The frilly hangers were already half taken up by an assortment of little girl dresses. He rolled his eyes. Girls.

He sat down on the bed and let out a deep breath. He knew the only reason why his parents let him come to the Potters was because they were also purebloods. Oh, and the small fact that he was now in Gryffindor. That wouldn't go over too well with Elladora.

An hour later, the Potters and newly arrived Uncle Charlie, along with Sprite and Sirius, took their places at the table to eat their first meal together. The lamb looked delicious, and Sirius was about to dig in when James kicked him under the table.

"Wait," he whispered.

Sirius looked at him, and then at Mrs. Potter, who was folding her hands. "Let us say Grace," she said.

Sirius blinked. Grace?

He took his cue off of James and the rest of the table, folded his hands, and closed his eyes. Lamb. He could smell it. He could taste it. Why were they bothering with this talk? Why didn't they just get to the food? This was the most boring thing he had done thus far. Not to complain about the Potters' hospitality, but they were old; old and staunchy, like the portrait that hung outside Professor McGonagall's classroom, bowing his head to every passerby, exclaiming how rude it was if they didn't bow back.

"So, Sirius," Mr. Potter piped up after the party had dug into the meal, "Tell us. How was your first semester at Hogwarts?"

"Pretty good," Sirius said, again disappointed that he had to talk instead of eat. "We have a friend at school that got us on the right track."

"Remus, remember, Dad?" James said, looking up from his plate. "The boy with the sick mum?"

"Oh, yes, I remember," Mr. Potter nodded. "Terrible thing to happen to such a young child. I remember when my mother died --- Charlie here was only four."

Charlie grunted as he took his fourth helping of lamb.

"Aren't your parents going to miss you, Sirius?" Mrs. Potter said, daintily picking up her fork.

"I doubt it," Sirius said truthfully, and went to stuffing his face.

"Have you met Madame Darsing yet, James?" Mr. Potter inquired his son, now seeing that Sirius was preoccupied.

"Oh, yeah, she's great! She said that I was a shoe-in third year if I wanted to try out for the Quidditch team," James said. "She's going to give me private lessons when I get back."

"Yeah, he showed us all up the first class," Sirius said, gulping down his food and turning to James. "Remember old Snivelly's face when he saw you flying?"

"No, I don't." James tried to recall that day. All he could remember was the feeling of the wind on his face, and Darsing yelling to him from the ground so far away.

"He looked like he'd just tasted something rotten," Sirius said. "He was clutchin' his broom and biting his lip. He was the last one to sit down."

"Who's Snivelly?" Mrs. Potter inquired.

"He's this greasy haired Slytherin. What's his real name, Sirius? Snape or something?"

"Yeah, I think that's it."

"Yeah, Snape. Severus Snape."

They had laughed and talked all night, and as Sirius sank into the frilly pink bed, he felt more content than he had in his whole life. A large smile formed on his face and he fell asleep.