"Have you seen a little boy? Black messy hair, looks just like him only
little?" A frantic women with hazel eyes was pointing at her husband.
Her child was lost at a quidditch match. A nearby gaurd, who was rather
round, was rolling his eyes. This kind of thing happened much to
frequently for him to worry. The woman,who was now speaking feverishly,
looked out of place. It seemed as if she were more dressed to be at a
ball than a sporting event. Her robes were obviously expensive and she
carried herself proudly. But now her once neat hair was out of place
and her shirt was twisted. Her husband was not half as worried as she
was.
"Honey, you know how James is. He'll turn up." He smiled at her and it was plain to see that he was an easy going man. The way he stood illustrated his simple elegance. He looked just as high class as his wife, but he was more layed back. It looked as if you could tell him the world was ending and he would just nod and say everything was fine.
Above the couple was a pair of truely black magic folk. Their dress was sloppy. It wasn't that they couldn't afford better clothes or hygiene, it was that they didn't care to try. The man had long black hair that was obviously uncombed. His wife was to say the least, unattractive. Maybe they would have seemed so dark if they didn't both have scowls on their faces. The people sitting closest to them were three feet away and glancing nervously in their direction.
"Do you want any?" The woman was holding up a bag of choclate frogs in her discolored fingers. The man only grunted and took it without thanks. Little did the two of them know or care, their son was crawling around in the dirt under the stands, playing 'Auror.'
"Die!" A small boy was standing in the shade of the stands, pointing a long stick at an imaginary bad guys. The couple in the stands was too lazy to notice when their son has snuck away. The two of them would shudder to know what this boy was up too. They supported the very organization that he was fighting.
With his face smudged with dark stains he hit a stance. Legs apart arms up, wand pointed. "You can't get away this time!" He charged forward with his dark, uncut hair streaming behind him. "Adava Kaedra!" He shouted. Obviously he didn't quite know everything yet. But he did manage to kill the bad guy, if you were wondering.
"What are you playing?" asked a young and curious voice. A messy raven haired boy was dunking under a support beam, walking toward the boy. He was dressed much too primly to be under the stands in the dirt.
"Auror." The playing boy looked startled and let his arm fall to his side, dropping the stick that had been his wand. His eyes glanced up in spurts, as if he was afraid to look up for too long. This boy with the torn cloths had not been allowed to interact with other children as much as he should have and now it showed.
The other boy didn't seem to notice his timid nature. He walked up with a grin on his face, unaware even of the differences in socail class. That is the beauty of being a child. You never know that the world is a harsh place. Its a beautiful thing. Thats why the boy was able to tell him his name so freely. He didn't know that in the future it would be dangerous. "I'm James Potter. Who are you?"
At first it seemed the boy would never answer. His mouth opened and shut once before he finally spoke. "Sirius Black." You must be gasping now, eh?
James was staring at Sirius' cheek. It was hardly noticable, but under the dirt smudged across it was a yellow-purple tinged patch. Immediately the young boy's eyes had traveled to it, recognizing it as a bruise. He had recieved many of them in his days. Many from taking out his father's broom and falling off. "What's that from?" he asked, staring at it.
Sirius bit his lip nervously. In fact, he had been forbidden to tell about it. He wasn't about to answer for fear he would get a matching wound on the other cheek. His father had given him the blimish. One night when he had gotten drunk and started yelling. It happened quite often really. His mother always covered for him, putting dirt on him to hide it. She was ruff with him as she did it, pushing painfully on the senstive area. Sirius' eyes grew wide in fright at the question.
"Its alright. My mom says I'm really sick." James had noticed his reluctance. He was very perceptive for a nine year old. This statement wouldn't have made since to anyone, but Sirius. Sure it was grammatically correct and perfectly worded, but it wouldn't have offered much comfort to most. Sirius knew it was meant to say that everyone has their problems. Another unfortunate side effect of growing up. Such cyptic messages would stop working.
Sirius smiled at him. "Want to play?" James nodded back enthusiastically and picked up his own stick. "What you do is get rid of all of the bad guys with your wand." Sirius picked up a new stick and looked over at his new companion. "No, no," he said, grabbing the stick James had chosen. "It has to be nice and long so the curses hurt.
"Like this?" James picked up a new long stick and showed him.
After that the two of them became fast friends. For about another hour they played together under the stands. About 100 villians were killed during their game. Too bad they were only figments of their imaginations and not actual Death Eaters, which, little did they know, would later take their lives.
Fun cannot last forever, as many of us know.
"Sirius! You little brat!" A loud harsh voice boomed. The crowd was just letting out. The snitch had been caught. The man from the stand was stomping over to his child, looking like a rampaging bull. His team had lost and tonight was surely going to be a ruff one in the Black household.
Sirius dropped his play wand. His eyes were on the ground, afraid to look up. It was certian he would be in trouble now. The wide man moved out of the crowd and towards them very quickly. James stopped what he was doing and stared at the man. "What are you doing you little brat," Mr. Black shot at the strange child. He walked past him to Sirius and raised his hand.
With a large motion he came down, but he was forced to stop at the last second! "NO!" little James was crying. He had placed himself inbetween Sirius and his father. It was a brave act, but also a stupid one. He stood with his legs apart in a confident stance, staring the man right in the eyes, though he was ten times smaller.
Mr. Black was startled, but it didn't take him long to recover. His hand was raised once again. "Move, boy, or I will hit you too." James' parents had been attracted to the scene by hid voice. They were fighting their way through the back of the crowd because the many whispers told of a messy black haired boy.
"No. You shouldn't hurt Sirius," he cried in his frim and inherently young voice. He didn't move an inch, nor did he flinch at the sight of the man's arm pulled back.
"You made a mistake, boy. A big one." If possible, his arm pulled back another few inchs and started down on James. It was slow motion. Every second took so long, but James still didn't dodge. His hand was inches away from the child when he was jerked away.
"How dare you hit my child?" roared James' father. His hand was wrapped in the cloth of Mr. Black's robe and his wand was drawn and pointed skillfully.
"I-I-..." His tough attitude was gone now. James had moved put his arms around a sobbing Sirius. Finally the man managed "I am a Black. He was disrespecting me."
"A Black?" shouted Mrs. Potter. "You scum of the earth. Come on Harold," she said, speaking to James' father. "Let's go."
James looke horrified as they tried to pull him away from his friend. "No! I can't leave him!" he was shouting repeatedly. His parents didn't understand what had happened and did not listen to his attempts to explain. Finally Mr. Black scopped up his child and joined his wife in the now thin crowd of people exitting.
"Remember, I'm James Potter!" the boy suddenly shouted. "We'll be Aurors together!" Both set of parents looked confused, but once again Sirius understood the cryptic message.
"I'm Sirius Black!" The other boy shouted back, barely audible. It was his only glimmer of hope now. Surely when they arrived home he would recieve the beating of a life time.
It was sad that their families were so opposite. James would probably recieve a treat when he got home. Parents saying things about how worried they were and to never sneak off again. But he won't listen. He will be writing an owl to 'Sirius Black' in his head.
Sirius Black and James Potter. The saga begins.
"Honey, you know how James is. He'll turn up." He smiled at her and it was plain to see that he was an easy going man. The way he stood illustrated his simple elegance. He looked just as high class as his wife, but he was more layed back. It looked as if you could tell him the world was ending and he would just nod and say everything was fine.
Above the couple was a pair of truely black magic folk. Their dress was sloppy. It wasn't that they couldn't afford better clothes or hygiene, it was that they didn't care to try. The man had long black hair that was obviously uncombed. His wife was to say the least, unattractive. Maybe they would have seemed so dark if they didn't both have scowls on their faces. The people sitting closest to them were three feet away and glancing nervously in their direction.
"Do you want any?" The woman was holding up a bag of choclate frogs in her discolored fingers. The man only grunted and took it without thanks. Little did the two of them know or care, their son was crawling around in the dirt under the stands, playing 'Auror.'
"Die!" A small boy was standing in the shade of the stands, pointing a long stick at an imaginary bad guys. The couple in the stands was too lazy to notice when their son has snuck away. The two of them would shudder to know what this boy was up too. They supported the very organization that he was fighting.
With his face smudged with dark stains he hit a stance. Legs apart arms up, wand pointed. "You can't get away this time!" He charged forward with his dark, uncut hair streaming behind him. "Adava Kaedra!" He shouted. Obviously he didn't quite know everything yet. But he did manage to kill the bad guy, if you were wondering.
"What are you playing?" asked a young and curious voice. A messy raven haired boy was dunking under a support beam, walking toward the boy. He was dressed much too primly to be under the stands in the dirt.
"Auror." The playing boy looked startled and let his arm fall to his side, dropping the stick that had been his wand. His eyes glanced up in spurts, as if he was afraid to look up for too long. This boy with the torn cloths had not been allowed to interact with other children as much as he should have and now it showed.
The other boy didn't seem to notice his timid nature. He walked up with a grin on his face, unaware even of the differences in socail class. That is the beauty of being a child. You never know that the world is a harsh place. Its a beautiful thing. Thats why the boy was able to tell him his name so freely. He didn't know that in the future it would be dangerous. "I'm James Potter. Who are you?"
At first it seemed the boy would never answer. His mouth opened and shut once before he finally spoke. "Sirius Black." You must be gasping now, eh?
James was staring at Sirius' cheek. It was hardly noticable, but under the dirt smudged across it was a yellow-purple tinged patch. Immediately the young boy's eyes had traveled to it, recognizing it as a bruise. He had recieved many of them in his days. Many from taking out his father's broom and falling off. "What's that from?" he asked, staring at it.
Sirius bit his lip nervously. In fact, he had been forbidden to tell about it. He wasn't about to answer for fear he would get a matching wound on the other cheek. His father had given him the blimish. One night when he had gotten drunk and started yelling. It happened quite often really. His mother always covered for him, putting dirt on him to hide it. She was ruff with him as she did it, pushing painfully on the senstive area. Sirius' eyes grew wide in fright at the question.
"Its alright. My mom says I'm really sick." James had noticed his reluctance. He was very perceptive for a nine year old. This statement wouldn't have made since to anyone, but Sirius. Sure it was grammatically correct and perfectly worded, but it wouldn't have offered much comfort to most. Sirius knew it was meant to say that everyone has their problems. Another unfortunate side effect of growing up. Such cyptic messages would stop working.
Sirius smiled at him. "Want to play?" James nodded back enthusiastically and picked up his own stick. "What you do is get rid of all of the bad guys with your wand." Sirius picked up a new stick and looked over at his new companion. "No, no," he said, grabbing the stick James had chosen. "It has to be nice and long so the curses hurt.
"Like this?" James picked up a new long stick and showed him.
After that the two of them became fast friends. For about another hour they played together under the stands. About 100 villians were killed during their game. Too bad they were only figments of their imaginations and not actual Death Eaters, which, little did they know, would later take their lives.
Fun cannot last forever, as many of us know.
"Sirius! You little brat!" A loud harsh voice boomed. The crowd was just letting out. The snitch had been caught. The man from the stand was stomping over to his child, looking like a rampaging bull. His team had lost and tonight was surely going to be a ruff one in the Black household.
Sirius dropped his play wand. His eyes were on the ground, afraid to look up. It was certian he would be in trouble now. The wide man moved out of the crowd and towards them very quickly. James stopped what he was doing and stared at the man. "What are you doing you little brat," Mr. Black shot at the strange child. He walked past him to Sirius and raised his hand.
With a large motion he came down, but he was forced to stop at the last second! "NO!" little James was crying. He had placed himself inbetween Sirius and his father. It was a brave act, but also a stupid one. He stood with his legs apart in a confident stance, staring the man right in the eyes, though he was ten times smaller.
Mr. Black was startled, but it didn't take him long to recover. His hand was raised once again. "Move, boy, or I will hit you too." James' parents had been attracted to the scene by hid voice. They were fighting their way through the back of the crowd because the many whispers told of a messy black haired boy.
"No. You shouldn't hurt Sirius," he cried in his frim and inherently young voice. He didn't move an inch, nor did he flinch at the sight of the man's arm pulled back.
"You made a mistake, boy. A big one." If possible, his arm pulled back another few inchs and started down on James. It was slow motion. Every second took so long, but James still didn't dodge. His hand was inches away from the child when he was jerked away.
"How dare you hit my child?" roared James' father. His hand was wrapped in the cloth of Mr. Black's robe and his wand was drawn and pointed skillfully.
"I-I-..." His tough attitude was gone now. James had moved put his arms around a sobbing Sirius. Finally the man managed "I am a Black. He was disrespecting me."
"A Black?" shouted Mrs. Potter. "You scum of the earth. Come on Harold," she said, speaking to James' father. "Let's go."
James looke horrified as they tried to pull him away from his friend. "No! I can't leave him!" he was shouting repeatedly. His parents didn't understand what had happened and did not listen to his attempts to explain. Finally Mr. Black scopped up his child and joined his wife in the now thin crowd of people exitting.
"Remember, I'm James Potter!" the boy suddenly shouted. "We'll be Aurors together!" Both set of parents looked confused, but once again Sirius understood the cryptic message.
"I'm Sirius Black!" The other boy shouted back, barely audible. It was his only glimmer of hope now. Surely when they arrived home he would recieve the beating of a life time.
It was sad that their families were so opposite. James would probably recieve a treat when he got home. Parents saying things about how worried they were and to never sneak off again. But he won't listen. He will be writing an owl to 'Sirius Black' in his head.
Sirius Black and James Potter. The saga begins.