Band of Brothers
Prelude
Chapter 2
Sirius

It was late. He could feel the hours pulling down on him. The window that was jinxed to show something other then next-doors sitting room revealed dazzling stars set in a deep black sky. It would have been a cleverer spell if something changed. If the moon rose, say, or even clouds that blotted everything from view. Unfortunately, the spell was not designed to change. So the stars burned the same as he had always known them.

Sirius lay stretched on his soft bed; hands tucked behind his head, and stared out at those softly twinkling stars. The one that was his namesake shone brighter then the others and had been placed in the center of the window as if it were somehow more important then the others. With a sigh, he turned his gaze to the ceiling. The flickering fire set in the small hearth made shadows dance across the white ceiling. It was boring just lying here… He had been since they got back from Diagon Alley. Their first and only stop had been the Owl Emporium where he'd fought with that stupid Potter boy.

He could remember being shoved into the table which caved under him, remembered all the rat cages tumbling down and then he'd smacked the back of his head on something, knocking himself silly. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in bed, mother standing over him. Far from being worried, her face could have scared a banshee. She'd screamed at him, voice not helping his pounding skull. He'd bought disgrace to the entire family, she'd said. Rolling about on the filthy ground with that little nobody. He'd tried to point out that they were only on the floor in the end, but she hadn't listened, only told him he was to stay in the room until tomorrow and had hexed the door to assure he would. It was all that stupid Potter's fault. If only he hadn't been such a little prat about everything. Couldn't even handle getting into a little trouble. Hmph. Sirius always got into trouble and it never frightened him any.

A low growl from his stomach interrupted his thoughts and reminded him he hadn't eaten since breakfast. With a grunt, Sirius rolled over a fished in his nightstand drawer. After a minute he pulled out a solid gold pocket watch. Flicking it open with a thumbnail, he stared at the hands. Twelve-sixteen. With a grin he clicked it shut and flung it carelessly onto the table. Then he slipped out of bed, stepped over the old wolfhound asleep in the middle of the room and tried the door. It swung open easily. There was a soft snort behind him. Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see the large dog had woken up and was giving him a questioning look.

"Come on, Baer. Let's go get a snack," he said, slapping his thigh. The dog rose slowly to his feet, tail wagging slowly. Boy and pet padded down the long, dark, hall, and the rather steep set of stairs. Then across the cool wooden floor to the other end of the house where a door stood ajar and splashed light across the wall. Sirius pushed open the door the rest of the way and smiled at the cheery kitchen. This was the best room in the house, second only to his bedroom. His smile turned into a puzzled frown as he looked at the sturdy oak table and saw Regulus sitting there, a plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of him. The nine-year-old glanced up as he came in, then pinked slightly and looked away. Sirius was about to ask when there was a sharp tug at his sleeve.

"Young master Sirius should be in his room," said the house-elf near his elbow. "Our Mistress is very cross with him."

"Oh, bugger off, Kreacher," Sirius snapped, jerking his arm away. "Mum said-" He broke off at the house-elf's affronted look, sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Mother said that I only had to stay in my room until tomorrow… and it is tomorrow." Kreacher bowed, hiding a scowl as he did so.

"Young master is very clever. He puts quite a strain on dear mistress' heart."

"Shut up and get me some cookies," Sirius said, plopping down at the table. Baer sighed softly and lay beside his chair. He smiled and patted the old dog's head. "And something for Baer, too."

Kreacher shuffled off, muttering to himself, and in an instant Sirius had a plate of hot cookies and a tall glass of milk. Baer was enjoying a bowl of mushed meat, which was all his old teeth could handle. After cramming a cookie into his mouth and taking a long swallow of milk, he turned his attention once more to his little brother. Regulus seemed to have lost his appetite and was breaking little pieces off his snack.

"What are you doing up?" Sirius asked, grabbing another cookie. Regulus shrugged.

"I was hungry…" he murmured, not meeting Sirius' eyes. Sirius didn't ask further. It didn't really matter anyway. He watched his little brother take the broken up bits of cookie and sprinkle them near a white fluffball that was sitting in front of his plate. The fluffball turned out to be a mouse with gleaming red eyes.

"Hatts ollins yira score," the creature squeaked, grabbing a morsel between its two pink paws. Sirius raised his eyebrows. A talking mouse. Those cost quite a few galleons. Regulus didn't get that much pocket money. The younger boy seemed to realize what he was thinking and stroked the mouse gently with a fingertip.

"I found him."

"Yeah? Where at."

"At Eeylops, right before we were kicked out," Regulus said calmly. Sirius had chosen that moment to drink and now choked on his milk.

"Kicked out of Eeylops?" Sirius echoed as soon as the coughing fit let up. Regulus nodded faintly, seeming completely enraptured with the mouse which was now cleaning its whiskers.

"Uh-huh. When Mummy went into that back room and found you lying there, she nearly had a fit. Kept screaming to the shop keeper that…that boy-"

"Potter," Sirius said.

"Yeah, Potter. That he had attacked you and everything, and that you were perfectly innocent. Then this old man came in too and he started arguing with Mummy and they both got really red. Then the owls started going for all the loose rats, hooting and screeching and there were feathers everywhere and then the shopkeeper told all of us to get out."

"No joke! What'd mum do?" Sirius asked, thoroughly intrigued.

"She looked like her head would pop clean off." Regulus looked at him then, and there was no mistaking the smile in his eyes. "And I thought she was going to blister his ears for forcing us out. But she just said that she wouldn't buy an owl from such a low class place anyway."

Sirius was about to say something rude when Kreacher bustled up, his large bulbous eyes glinting with annoyance. The boy glared right back. Stupid house-elf. He had no right to look annoyed. He never had with mother.

"Kreacher wonders if the young masters are ready to stop messing up poor Kreacher's kitchen and go back to bed where they belong."

"We're sorry-" started Regulus.

"We'll go to bed when we bloody well feel like it," Sirius broke in. "If we're bothering you, why don't you go have some fun and beat yourself?"

"Yes, of course, young master. Forgive Kreacher's intrusion," the elf muttered, sounding not one whit apologetic. Bowing low, the house-elf backed out and disappeared in the shadows. Sirius shook his head and crammed another cookie into his mouth.

"Mummy said you shouldn't use words like that," Regulus said.

"Life whaf?" Sirius asked around a mouthful of cookie.

"Like what you just said. Mummy says that all Blacks have to speak like they've had some breeding, not like they were born in the gutter."

Sirius rolled his eyes. As if he didn't hear that phrase often enough from mother. "Maybe…but I'm not all Blacks," he said, finishing off his milk and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "And neither are you. Just because generations of our family didn't know how to do anything but follow directions doesn't mean we have to."

Regulus lifted his nose in the air and gave Sirius an annoying know-it-all look.

"It's called tradition. Mummy says that following tradition is important and that's what all good boys do. That's why I get to go to Grandmother's tomorrow and you don't."

"Why can't I?" Truthfully, he would love to go to grandmother's house. She wasn't much better then his mother in many respects. But she had a huge yard that he and Baer to run in and he could even practice on his old Cloud Chaser if he didn't go too high. Plus the fact that Andromeda might be there. Of all his cousins, she was his favorite.

"You're going to Diagon Alley again," Regulus said, scooping up the mouse and getting to his feet. In a flash, Kreacher appeared and whisked everything from the table, a clear indication to get moving. Sirius glared at the house-elf who was bowing and scraping and telling them to have a good night. If Regulus had stayed, Kreacher would have kept giving them cookies until their stomachs burst. Sirius stood quickly so that his chair clattered to the floor. There was a soft whine and suddenly a cold wet nose nuzzled his palm. Sirius smiled and scratched behind Baer's ears. At least someone in this house liked him.

"Sirius…" Regulus started.

"What?" said the older boy when the younger didn't continue. Regulus shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable.

"I was wondering if-"

"No," said Sirius, brushing past his brother and marching out into the hall. He wasn't about to do any sort of favor for precious little Regulus. If the little brat wanted anything, he could go ask mother. Whatever it was, she'd give it to him in a heartbeat. There were rapid footsteps as his brother started to follow him. Sirius picked up his pace so he was practically running and was halfway up the stairs when Regulus shouted:

"Sirius, wait! Please?" The boy sounded desperate. Sirius stopped with a heavy sigh and waited for his brother to catch up.

"Look. Whatever it is, I-"

"There's a boggart under my bed!" Regulus interrupted. It was too dark to see his face properly, but by the sound of his voice he was about to burst into tears. "And it keeps making horrible noises and saying it's going to eat me."

"So why don't you have Mother or Father get rid of it?"

"Because Mummy gets mad when she's woken up. You know that."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can I sleep with you? Just for tonight," he added hastily. "Please? I'll give you this mouse."

Sirius was tempted to say no and that he didn't need a mouse. But he knew how scary it was to be nine and have a monster under your bed.

"All right, but just for tonight."

"Thank you," Regulus whispered, grabbing his hand. Sirius rolled his eyes but didn't break the other boy's grip as they continued upstairs. Little brothers were such a pain. Especially spoiled rotten ones who got everything they ever wanted on a silver platter. Still, spoiled or not, a part of Sirius wanted to protect him. Regulus wouldn't be half bad if he just stopped going on about Black family honor. Honestly, it wasn't as if he didn't hear it enough from everyone else.

Soon they had reached the room. Without pausing, Regulus flung open the door, barged across the carpet and flumped right in the middle of the bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows. There was a soft whuff as Baer came into the room. Sirius looked down at him. The dog's slightly exasperated expression made the boy grin.

"I know, old friend. Regulus is a right little twit." Then, after giving his pet a goodnight pat, went to try and nudge his way into bed. At first, Regulus refused to give over. But after a few good pokes and a threat to throw him to the boggart, the younger boy hastily moved aside. Once Sirius was comfortable though, Regulus snuggled up to him like he was some sort of giant teddy bear. Sirius rolled his eyes heavenward. Siblings… But, really, he couldn't complain too much. Andromeda had two siblings…and quite annoying ones at that. Girls were annoying in general but Narcissa and Bellatrix seemed to take it to extremes.

Thinking of annoying… Sirius closed his eyes and sunk his head back into the pillow. Tomorrow he would have to go back to Diagon Alley. Mother was going to be an absolute bat about everything. But if he kept his nose clean and tried to stay out of trouble, it shouldn't be too bad. As long as he didn't run into any more Potters.

It was a musty old shop and surprisingly quiet considering the chaos outside. Long narrow boxes were stacked everywhere in a kind of ordered mess. Appearance wise, it didn't look like a very important place. But Sirius had known the truth even before he'd stepped inside and felt the slight tingle at the base of his neck. In each of those musty old looking boxes was a wand. In one of them was his wand. A wand all his own that no one else would be able to use as well. Mother always said a wizard without his wand was no wizard at all.

Sirius danced from foot to foot, impatient to get on with it. Mother was waiting at Flourish and Blotts and the longer he took in getting there, the more suspicious she would get. Unfortunately, Ollivander was helping a young, nervous looking girl with a round face. She had gone through a pile of wands all ready and seemed a little frightened"Ma…maybe it was a mistake," she whimpered, wringing her hands. "Th…they must have delivered the letter to the wrong person…"

"Don't fret, don't fret," Ollivander said absently, stepping up on a high ladder to peer at some boxes on the top shelf. "Sometimes it just takes a little digging to find the right one."

"I do hope so," the girl said. "It's never happened in my family before, you know. My sister thinks it's all a big prank."

Sirius stared at her in surprise. "You're a mudblood?" The words shot out of his mouth before he quite realized it and he nearly smacked himself. There was a soft clatter as Ollivander nearly dropped the box he was holding. The girl turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it," Sirius said hastily. "It really doesn't matter to me what you are." It was true. It didn't matter to him whether she came from the muggliest of muggles or the most pureblooded family out there. But mother used to say that all mudbloods were obnoxious and disgustingly plain, and this girl didn't look either.

"What do you mean?" the girl raised her dark eyebrows. "What, exactly, do you think I am?" Before he could answer, Ollivander plunked the box onto the counter and carefully opened it.

"Try this," the old wizard said, handing a long bendy wand to the girl. "Willow and dragon heart-string, ten and a quarter inches. Give it a wave." The girl bit her lip and did so, letting out a startled "Oh!" as a shower of gold sparks shot from it.

"Excellent." Ollivander took her wand and began to wrap it up. "It's a rather tricky combination to work with, but I'm sure you'll master it." The girl paid for her wand and, after a passing glance at Sirius, left. He watched her go, smiling apologetically as she peered at him through the window. A tape measure suddenly popped into existence a few centimeters from his eye, making him jump horribly.

"Now, Mr. Black," Ollivander said from a distant part of the shop as the tape measure began to record the length of Sirius' nose. "I don't expect much trouble with you. I've outfitted your family for- oh- generations. It's astonishing but they always seem to fit the same kind of wand."

"I'm not surprised," Sirius muttered. The tape measure which was checking the distance between his fingers dropped down and coiled around his ankle rather like a snake.

"Your mother had ebony, eleven inches, dragon heart-string. A good solid wand for basic spell work but very rigid. Your father had ebony too…same core of course, seven and half inches and extremely bendy. I imagine he was somewhat of a natural disaster in charms."

That sounded like his parents, all right. Mother ruled the entire household with an iron fist. Even Father found it easier to bow to her wishes. In fact, his favorite phrase seemed to be 'Go ask your mother'. It was funny, but he never seemed to mind her rules until recently. When he was younger he used to adore mother as much as Kreacher did. During those days, Kreacher treated him with the same reverence as he did Regulus. Sirius could do absolutely no wrong. But lately something had changed. Mother's rules and ideas seemed confining and more then a little aggravating. A wand suddenly poked into his line of vision, scattering his thoughts.

"Ebony, dragon heart-string, nine inches, nice little flick to it," Ollivander said. Sirius sighed and took the wand, holding it still in his hand and gazing along its length. It was the same kind of wand his parents had… his grandparents had…and probably the same kind that Regulus was going to get. Suddenly his entire future opened in front of him. This would be his wand, or one like it. Then he would go to Hogwarts and be sorted into Slytherin where he would try to make the most powerful connections he could to bring up the Black family name. Then he supposed he would inherit Grimmauld Place and live the rest of his life being the perfect Black in perfect misery.

"Well?" said Ollivander. "Give it a wave." The old man seemed to be waiting for something. Sirius glanced at the man curiously, but Ollivander did nothing but stare at him. With a small shrug he gritted his teeth and raised the wand. A lump knotted in his throat. Just a simple swish and a shower of sparks would seal his fate. Soon he would be just another Black. Just another name on the family tree.

"No!" Sirius shouted, slamming the wand on the counter.

"No?" said Ollivander, a small smile playing around his lips.

"No." Sirius gave him a hard look. "I want a different wand. I don't care if everyone in my family uses the same bloody wand. I don't care about tradition. Regulus can follow it well enough for the both of us." Annoyingly enough, Ollivander didn't seem at all surprised by this. Instead he just smiled in a misty sort of way and put the ebony wand back in its box.

"I don't know, Mr. Black. Being different can be quite a challenge. Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I'd rather be different then mindless," Sirius muttered.

"A very brave idea." Ollivander opened the only other box on the counter and revealed a long whitish wand. "Ten inches, ash, core of unicorn tail and surprisingly springy. Want to give it a try?"

Sirius stared at it, fingers all ready twitching to wrap around the handle. A single thought held him back.

"Mother will kill me," he whispered.

"That's always a possibility. But, ultimately, it's your choice."

Sirius' stomach twisted and suddenly he felt like a little kid. Talking and complaining about it was one thing…but actually going completely against her was another. She wouldn't just be mad, she'd be furious. There was no telling what she would do.

On the other hand, she wasn't here. She wouldn't likely pay attention to the wand he had. Even if she did notice, she wouldn't know he'd chosen it. After all, everyone knew that the wand chose the wizard. Was it his fault? He reached for the ash wand but another thought stilled his hand. What if the wand didn't choose him? What if he was really just another Black?

"Try it," Ollivander said. Sirius nodded slowly and took it from the box. Pleasant tingles ran from his hand to the back of his neck and when he swished it red and gold sparks flowed from it.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice snapped. Sirius jumped and turned, automatically hiding the wand behind his back. Mother stood framed in a doorway; Kreacher was slouched behind her, up to his huge eyeballs in books and with a cauldron swinging from his skinny arm.

"Just buying a wand," Sirius said, hoping she wouldn't ask to see it.

"Seven galleons, please," Ollivander said immediately. Sirius pulled the coins his mother had given him out of his front pocket and placed them on the counter.

"You certainly took long enough," Mother said, but a bit more softly, thrusting out her hand. Sirius took it and she led him out of the shop and into the crowded street. Abruptly her grip softened and a smile lifted her lips. She gave him a look that was usually only reserved for Regulus. His heart warmed and he couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm glad you weren't getting into trouble," she said, giving his hand a little squeeze. "If you behaved this well all the time, I wouldn't have to get cross with you so often." With mother being so nice, it was tempting to really behave all the time. But even mother's rare approval couldn't beat slipping beetles into Regulus' tea. Thinking of tea… It had to be about three o'clock. Baer had been cooped up inside all day.

"So can we go home now?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Not yet. We still have to go to Madam Malkin's. There is someone exciting I want you to meet."

Sirius groaned inwardly. He'd had a feeling that his mother's cheerfulness had to do with something other then him behaving. Someone important usually meant someone blooded that he was supposed to make a good impression with. He couldn't imagine who it could be, though. It seemed like he'd all ready met every pure blooded family that ever existed. All of them were the same too. Obnoxious, stuffy, arrogant. Well, except for the Weasleys, but mother hadn't wanted to stay around them for very long. Sirius had never figured out why. They seemed like pretty decent people.

Soon enough, they reached Madam Malkin's. A couple of mannequins stood in the store window, showing off various robes. Every once in a while they would shift position.

"Now," Mother said, drawing his attention away from the dummies. "I know he's a wee bit older then you, but I'm sure you can be friends if you make a good impression." She inspected him with narrowed eyes, brushing here, tucking there. "Why are you still holding your wand like a fool? Everyone knows you can't use it yet. Give it to Kreacher--and turn out your pockets. I don't trust that lump. I'll not have you setting off another dung bomb." She sniffed and straightened. "Now I'm going in to make sure he's still there. Come along when you're presentable and don't take all day." With that, she swept inside the shop. Sirius stared after her. Lump in his pocket? Oh right, the mouse Regulus had given him. He'd forgotten he'd had that. With gentle fingers he pried the creature from his pocket and held it up to eye level. The mouse twitched his nose and regarded him with beady red eyes.

"Where did young master get the new pet?" Kreacher asked suspiciously. "Young Master doesn't deserve a new pet."

"Belt up, Kreacher, or I'll give you a sock," he said absently, plunking his wand on top of the house-elf's pile. The mouse he set on his shoulder then pushed into the shop.

"Hatts ollins yira score," it squeaked softly in his ear. Sirius sighed. The mouse was cute, but that was all it ever said. Inside, Mother was talking to some tall, blond, woman in a green dress who was looking at her with polite disdain. He stomach dropped as he recognized her. Oh bugger…a Malfoy. That meant whoever he was supposed to meet fell into the 'make friends or else' category.

"Of course, we're all very proud of him, Arachne," Mother was saying. "He'll be one of the cleverest students they have."

"I'm sure," the blonde woman said in a bored tone. He was about to go up to them but a squat witch dressed in lilac blocked his way.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked, smiling warmly. Then, without waiting for an answer. "This way please, there's a lad." In the back of the shop was a small gang of teenagers, but only one of them was being fitted. Judging by his pale, pointy features, he was the one that Sirius was supposed to make friends with. Wee bit older his foot. Malfoy had to be in his last year at Hogwarts, if he was still in Hogwarts at all. All the teenagers gave him the same annoyed look as he was ushered into the room. Most of them were vaguely familiar. The two gorilla like ones who were cracking their knuckles and flexing rather impressive shoulders had to be a Crabbe and a Goyle. The skinny boy with more pimples then skin was possibly a McNair. Sirius' eyes rested on the blond girl who looked more annoyed then the rest and his heart sunk to join his stomach. A Black. More specifically, a Narcissa Black. How wonderful.

"Who are you?" drawled Malfoy scornfully as Sirius hopped up on a stool next to him. There was a moment of darkness as Madam Malkin slipped a dark robe over his head. Once he could see, he glared at the gray eyed teenager, intending to say something rude, but Narcissa spoke before him.

"He's my cousin, Lucius." Narcissa had spat the word cousin rather like it was a curse. She had loathed him ever since he'd given her a Medusa hairbrush for her birthday. Honestly, he didn't understand why. It wasn't like they hadn't managed to get rid of the snakes…and it had only taken a month at that. Malfoy's scowl melted into a smile. Sirius had too many nasty minded relatives to believe that smile was genuine.

"Are you really?" the older boy asked, stepping off the stool as the witch finished with him. "I have to admit I haven't met anyone from your branch of the family tree… aside from your parents, of course. What was your name?"

"Sirius," he said reluctantly. There was a slight pause in conversation as loud young voices drifted in from the direction of the shop.

"Better take care of that, dear," said Malkin, who was currently fiddling with Sirius' sleeves. The witch that had been fitting Malfoy began to hastily gather her materials.

"Your new Quidditch robes will be delivered tomorrow," she said quickly. Malfoy gave her a nod then turned his attention back to Sirius with the same snakeish smile.

"I'm the team captain," he said, as if Sirius should care.

"The best one we've had," grunted the Crabbe. Malfoy didn't even bother to acknowledge him, instead pushed a strand of white blond hair over his shoulder.

"Would you like to play Quidditch?" he asked, with the air of someone about to give out a wonderful present. If Sirius were stupider, he would have jumped at the offer. He would dearly love to play Quidditch. But no one gave something for nothing…especially not a Malfoy.

"I'm not sure how good I'll be," he said truthfully. Malfoy shrugged lightly.

"It really doesn't matter. Some of my team can't tell a bludger from a hole in the ground." He gave a brief glance to the pimply McNair. "What matters is that you have a good captain. Sadly, I'll have gone by the time you're able to play, but I'll make sure my successor is relatively decent."

"What do I have to do?" asked Sirius bluntly. Malfoy's smile never faltered.

"Do? You don't have to do anything. We-"

"Excuse me," squeaked a voice from the door. A rotund boy with a surprisingly pointy nose stood in the doorway. He seemed to realize he had interrupted something and nervously meshed his pudgy fingers together. "E…excuse me…Mrs. Malkin?"

"Yes?" said the fitting witch, in a polite tone. Then, much warmer- "Oh, hello Peter. Did your robes show up yet? Our Magrat said she'd delivered them yesterday."

"Yes ma'am," the boy called Peter said, finally looking away from Sirius. "Only mum wanted to borrow a cup of cricket wings if you weren't busy."

"Of course Peter, dear." She patted Sirius' shoulder and smiled up at him. "I'll be back to finish up in a shake." Then she left in a swirl of lilac robes. Peter hung by the door, still looking quite nervous.

"As I was saying," Malfoy said, casting Peter a look that made the boy shake like a jelly. "You don't have to do anything because we purebloods have to look after ourselves. Dippet has been doing a shoddy job of it and with Dumbledore…" Malfoy's lip curled. "Well, with him becoming headmaster our school will probably be overcome with mudbloods…" Again he shot a scathing look at Peter. "Of course, with some there's not much difference."

Sirius felt his own lip curl. What a stuck up git!

"There's no reason say that," Sirius snapped before truly thinking about it. "Why did you say it? Just because he interrupted you? Oh, the great Malfoy, team captain, was interrupted; the world is going to end now." All traces of a smile were gone from Malfoy's face. His gray eyes were narrowed into slits.

"I would have thought that you would have some respect for breeding." And there it was, the perfect opportunity. Sirius knew that taking it would mean his mother being madder at him then she ever had been. He knew that it could make at least one year in Slytherin completely miserable. He was also painfully aware Malfoy could easily reach out and belt him one. He knew all of this…and realized none of it mattered.

"What, you mean dog breeding?" he said with a grin, quickly backing up a step and quite forgetting he was standing on a stool. The next moment he found himself sprawled on the floor, with the laughter of Malfoy's cronies ringing in his ears. Malfoy, however, remained straight faced, still giving him that narrow eyed look.

"Narcissa was right; you really are nothing more then a miserable little brat."

"I told you, Lucius," Narcissa said, coming beside Malfoy and slipping her arm through his. "Aunt Gomesia is always complaining about him." Sirius tried to think of a come back for that, but his mind remained frustratingly blank. For a moment, the couple did nothing but stare at him as if he was nothing more then a cockroach scuttling about on the floor.

"Do you want us to do something?" Crabbe…or possibly Goyle asked. Malfoy smirked.

"No." Was all he said before he and Narcissa swept from the room. Crabbe, Goyle and McNair followed soon after, shooting Sirius with dark looks. The boy glared after them. That was easy, too easy. There was the pounding of heavy feet and suddenly Peter was right beside him, his small dark eyes anxious.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked. For one wild moment, Sirius thought Peter knew what Malfoy was up to. Then remembered he'd fallen off the stool.

"Yeah, I'm all right," he said, pushing against the floor with his hands to get himself in a more comfortable position. His left hand came down on something surprisingly warm and there was a startled squeak. With a sympathetic wince, he gently picked the mouse up. The creature's red eyes were reproachful as it sat on his palm, violently twitching its nose.

"Thank you for doing that…" Peter said, meshing his fingers together again and staring at the floor. "Not a lot of people will stand up for me."

"Well a lot of people are gits," Sirius said distractedly, staring at the door. There was no way Malfoy was going to let him get out of that without doing something to him. Not knowing what or when it would happen was making him anxious.

"That's a cute mouse," Peter said. "Can I hold him?"

"Yeah, sure," Sirius said, tipping the mouse into his hand while desperately trying to think.

"My mum isn't too fond of mice. They get onto the brooms, you know. One time one of them chewed right through the handle. The spells went all wonky of course, was completely unsellable after that. And it was a Darter too, best turning broom on the market besides the Shooting Star. I've always wanted a mouse, though."

Suddenly, as if the boy's babbling had revealed some secret, Sirius knew.

"Oh bugger! He's going to tell Mother!" he yelled, shooting to his feet. "Probably going to lie, too! Filthy git!"

"Wh…what?" Peter asked. Sirius ignored him and bolted for the door. Malfoy had probably gotten to her by now. He wouldn't be able to undo anything, but at least he might be able to stop further damage.

"SIRIUS!" Mother's voice made the windows buzz. Sirius winced.

Oh…bugger.
TBC….

Ooh boy. This is gonna be a hell of a long fic. : Someone shoot me now. Anyway. Sorry about the magical reappearing mouse and the fact that the Sirius part was probably far longer then the James part. Don't worry, they'll all get more or less equal screen time. Thanks to all!