Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR owns what you recognize. My sister and I own the idea. I think I have to claim the way it was written.
Author's Note: Bet you thought this would never continue, huh? hehe. Well, I wouldn't do that, but I seem to have to be in an...odd mood to be able to write this. For example, the first chapter was written at my grandpa's house, while my sister and I were on a sugar high. This one was written, mostly, after midnight on a school night. Ah well, whatcha gonna do. Here it is, the long awaited (yeah right)...
Hogwarts Room of Records
Summer Break
Sirius was bored. And when he got bored, he got destructive. After he had managed to "accidentally" break quite a few galleons worth of merchandise in Diagon Alley, his parents sent him home, to the applause of every shopkeeper along the street.
"12 Grimmauld Place," Sirius said, stepping into the floo at the Leaky Cauldron. He was glad he got to leave. How he could explore the muggle area around his house. He had never even got to go to a muggle grocery store, as such places were "beneath" his parents, who had house elves purchase their groceries at the store in Diagon Alley, where everything was charmed with preservation charms. He had been allowed in Knockturn Alley for as long as he could remember, but never anywhere remotely muggle. His parents didn't even like to linger long in the Leaky Cauldron, as if afraid that a muggle would accidentally stumble in.
He stepped out into the drawing room, and stopped to listen for the house elves. Hearing none, he continued down the stairs, stopping to listen again. He still heard nothing. He snuck out the door, and walked down the road.
He explored for as long as he dared. As he was going back, he decided that he had to have something muggle. He sauntered over to a nearby shop, trying to hide his excitement and confusion.
"Is that all?" the clerk asked as Sirius laid a bottle of soda on the counter. Sirius nodded, and paid the man in the muggle money that Remus had given him.
Sirius continued back to his house, clutching the bottle in his hand. He just had time to stash in it his room before the rest of the Blacks got home.
Out on the street, something odd was happening.
Mrs. Edwards, longtime occupant of 11 Grimmauld Place, was looking out the window. Being confined to a wheelchair for quite a few years, not to mention living alone, for the most part, she did this quite often. She had never noticed anything odd about the space between 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place, except that there wasn't a 12 Grimmauld Place. Today, however, that would change.
As she had watched, she saw what seemed to be a teenage boy appear out of thin air. Now, normally, she would just assume she was seeing things. After all, a teenage boy couldn't appear out of thin air and just hover above the ground. Right?
She dismissed him as a figment of her imagination. At the very least, she decided, he had come through the space in between the houses, and it was a trick of the light that he appeared to be floating. That is, until he came back. This time, she watched closely. He seemed to be rising in the air. Almost as if he was…no. He couldn't be. Could he? It looked like he was going up invisible steps.
She shook herself out of the daze when she heard a knock on the door. "Com in!" she called. Her daughter and her family walked into the house.
"Gran, why didn't you tell me you had such a cute neighbor?" her fourteen-year-old granddaughter asked.
"I didn't know," her grandmother responded, gaze fixed on the spot where the boy had disappeared. She did, however, catch the knowing look that passed between her daughter and son-in-law. They thought she was insane! Well, if she was insane, so was their daughter. Somehow, however, she didn't think they would appreciate that being pointed out. Suddenly, however, something happened that made them all stare. And it wasn't only the people inside 11 Grimmauld Place that noticed. It was the people in 13 Grimmauld Place, and the people simply walking by the spot where number 12 should be.
There, floating about where the second story would be, was a bottle of soda. It just sat…floated there, not moving at all. It didn't rise, or fall, or move left or right. It simply sat there. This continued for about five minutes, in which people had stopped staring, and were starting to uneasily shake it off. Then, however, the bottle moved.
It was as if someone had picked it up. The bottle moved back and forth in a straight line, as if whoever had picked it up was pacing.
Poor Sirius had a dilemma, and he didn't even know about the stir he was causing on the street. One of the house elves had spotted him coming in. And, of course, it just had to be Kreacher. Not only would he get in trouble for having a muggle object, he would be in trouble for having muggle money to buy it, and especially for leaving the house. He stared at the bottle, which he had set on his bedside table as soon as he reached his room, as if looking for an answer to all his questions. He picked it up, and started pacing. He heard someone floo into the house.
Acting purely on instinct, he nearly ran to the nearest window, threw it open, and hurled the bottle to the street below. The only thing he aimed for was that it didn't land directly in front of his window. The fact that it landed on the opposite side of the street was definitely a bonus. He closed the window quickly as he heard doors slam. Kreacher had told. His only hope was to play innocent. He prepared himself for a long battle.
People on the street watched in astonishment. A bottle of soda, the same one that had been floating in thin air, suddenly came hurtling towards them, as if thrown. It landed on the opposite side of the street, narrowly missing a young woman. It shattered, spilling the cola everywhere. They could almost hear doors slamming, and could almost hear shouting. Not at all eager to recall this day, they hurried off.
Poor Sirius got thoroughly yelled at, but, in the end, his father must have decided Kreacher had been lying, as nothing worse happened. All through London, people who had witnessed the flying bottle shivered, not daring to tell anyone what they had witnessed, lest they be called crazy. However, in twenty-one years, floating foodstuffs would become a common occurrence in that particular space. You see, the grocery store in Diagon Alley didn't do very good business, as there weren't enough people like the Blacks to keep them in business, and food had to be bought at muggle stores. No one ever figured out that the wards hiding the house refused to hide un-charmed objects.
"That was weird," Ron said, glancing at the now blank screen.
"No kidding," Hermione said. "Let's watch one from Hogwarts." She dug another folder out, this time carefully looking at the labels. "Here's one." She switched disks, and the show continued…
TBC
Author's Note: Well, was it worth the wait? I'm not incredibly happy with this chapter, but I'd really like to hear what you think about it. AKA please review. If you want a response to a question you ask in a review, please leave your e-mail address, as we're not allowed to answer reviews in author's notes anymore. Thanks for reading, please review!