The next thing she knew she was being kicked awake. "Filth!"

There, that was an improvement. Evans be gone, she had watched him pack his bags as her mother slept. She rolled over, to find her face pressed against the corner of a blade. A moustache loomed over her, the mouth below it parting to expel a spray of spit.

"Pull your dirty little Muggle remains off my porch or I cut you limb – from – limb."

He really seemed to mean it. If it weren't for the knife she would have laughed, or at least defended herself against his accusations of the strains of her line. They were pure Muggle, she a witch. This pureblood would have to come to terms with the idea; but not now. She got up and backed away slowly.

"Pardon, sir, didn't see the house there." There wasn't one, it had disappeared as soon as he stepped out the door. He knew that she knew, though, and that she was one of his kind, and that she could tear him to pieces if she cared to. At least that was what she hoped to imply. He brandished the knife.

"Come back and you won't wake up." He shoved past her, knocking her to the ground. It was very soft; the grass was well-kept. She decided the wisest thing was to stay put, and awake.

A hand pressed to her forehead, where an odd cut had appeared. She hadn't felt her skin break, still didn't feel the early morning cold under her skin. She felt the hand, though, and opened her eyes.

"Hi." There was a boy hovering over her, a few years older, grinning widely. "All right there?"

"Grand," she said, pushing herself up. "Stop touching me."

He did so, shaking his hair out of his face. He was very beautiful, and very conceited about the whole thing by the look of it. She watched him interestedly. "Do you think it'll stop bleeding sometime soon, or can I fix it up for you?"

"Is it?" She put a hand up and brought it away scarlet. A strange sort of frown, more amused than anything, crossed her face. He picked her up.

"Can you walk? Will you fall if I let go?"

She shoved his hands away irritably. "I told you to stop touching me. I'm fine."

"My father likes that sort of thing. The violent upper-class fascist snob, embodied."

"Of course." She didn't really care, she was watching up and down the street because the sun was rising which that meant it was seven o'clock, or a bit later, and Susie Lynn's mother would be driving by. The boy had his eyes on her and his mind somewhere else.

"Do you need to get somewhere?"

"Not here. Somewhere else. Right now. Oh, blimey. Bugger all, there she –" Lily ducked behind the boy. He was quite tall, much taller than she. If only he would quit turning his head to peer down at her and bellow out questions for the whole street to hear she might be all right.

"Fuck."

"Are you alright? You really walloped your head. Maybe we should hook you up with some sort of cream, or disinfectant, or painkiller. I have some Ogden's –"

"Yes!"

"The Ogden's? Oh. No. Painkiller, sure, I can sneak back in and maybe Mother won't –"

"Get me some whiskey," she said.

"You know Ogden's! You must be a witch. Do you go to school?"

"Yes and no." She peeked around his shoulder. The street was empty. She stepped out in relief. "It's only that I couldn't be seen by Susie Lynn's mother."

"From down the road?"

"Yes. I was living with them, up until yesterday evening."

"Cripes, it must have been bad to throw her off her cocker. That must be the most docile woman I've ever met. What'd you do, pitch bricks through all their windows?"

"I drugged up Susie Lynn. When are you going to get me that drink?"

He looked down at her, curious now. "How old did you say you were?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve!" He whistled. "I've never given a twelve-year-old alcohol before. Except my little cousins, but that's different. They're family. The needed to get fucked up."

"You don't like them?"

"In a word, no."

They stood for a moment. Sirius cleared his throat. "Look, we're standing on the lawn, and I'm getting kind of jumpy, so maybe we could –"

"I have to go," she said.

"Are you coming back?"

"No."

"All right then. I think I'll go back to bed."

"Can I come with you?"

"Whoa," he said, holding up his hands. "Did you or did you not just tell me you were twelve?"

"I slept in your doorway last night. I thought it was a wall, actually, but I was outside, and I was drunk so I couldn't tell it was cold but now I'm starting to feel it and I'm going to freeze if I don't stay somewhere tonight. I can't afford food, let alone anything else, I need a place to stay, you're a wizard and you need to look after me."

"You can't stay with me. My house is a wreck."

"It can't be worse than the alley out back."

"It's clean enough. That's not what I mean."

"Where am I supposed to go? My best friend kicked me out, my parents are dead, my house is gone. I have nothing."

He chucked her under the chin. "Get some emotion into that speech and someone might take you in for good. What are you doing hooking your friends anyway? You probably deserve what you get."

"Probably."

"But you still have nothing."

"I still have nothing."

He thought hard, and said, "Tell you what. I'll get you in touch with a friend of mine. His folks are good and he isn't clean. Right up your alley, hey?"

"Hey," she said.

"Hey. Your eyes are really green."

"Yeah."

"That's cool."

"No it's not. My dad left in the middle of the night, and my mom thought he croaked until she did."

"You're crazy."

"Probably."

"Were his eyes green?"

"No."

"I'll go owl Remus," he said, and went inside.