Diagon Alley

"MUM! Dad! Come quick!" James Potter bounced up and down on his heals in front of the window for Quality Qudditch Supplies. "Look, it's the new Nimbus 1001! Just released the August!"

"James, honey, you know that you are not allowed brooms your first year." His mother chastised, coming up behind him.

"Aw, mum, c'mon! Please!"

"You won't be able to even use it there!"

"So! I would still be able to say that I have one. Plus, I could always sneak it—"

"Oh, no, no, you better not, James!"

"I was just joking." James said sullenly, crossing his arms, sulking, and looking the epitome of a long-suffering child. "It's OK, just kill my dreams…I'm sure my self esteem will build itself back up…one day."

Jenna Potter smirked. "I'm glad."

"One day…far off in the future…after my self-image has become so pour that I turn to the drink…"

Jenna laughed outright. "Michael, do you hear your son?"

Michael James Potter came up behind his wife, grinning. "Sure did. Come, Jen, let us just get him the broom. The kid is trying so hard…"

"You always want to overindulge him."

"Come now, Jen, you're trying our son to the drink!" Michael said, laughing.

James, feeling that rush of happiness that always came when the tide was about to turn in his favor, knew it was time to clinch the deal. Turning to his mother, looking up at her with doleful eyes, he solemnly said, "Yes, mum, you are. My spirit…it's breaking…" He dropped his hands to his sides and looked mournfully at his feet.

Jenna rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, but was smiling. "Oh fine, James, go ahead! Just stop giving me that 'I'm-so-innocent-and-horribly-oppressed' look!"

"Yay!" James whooped, jumping up and down excitedly. He gave his mother a huge hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He offered her a big smile. "That better?"

Jenna shook her head. "All I can say is: it's lucky that you have melodramatic exaggeration down to a science. And it is also very lucky for me that you are an only child."

"Aw, you wouldn't want another one just like me?"

"And as big a troublemaker?"

"That just goes without saying."

"I can barely handle one of you, let alone two!" Jenna said jovially, walking towards the door of the store. "Now, come, let's go get you your broom."

"Well played, Son, well played." His father said with a smile, clapping James on the back, and following him into the store.

"They let just anyone into Hogwarts nowadays, do they?" Orion Black asked, while his son rifled through the latest Qudditch magazine, in line at Flourish and Blotts to pay for his schoolbooks.

Sirius glanced up from the article on the brand new Nimbus 1001 brooms, just out last Thursday, and on limited release. "What, Dad?"

Orion inclined his head in the direction of a family standing a few feet away, looking confusedly from one of the many shelves of books to a sheaf of parchment which was obviously a Hogwarts school list. The father, a tall, thin man with dark brown hair, was mumbling about how the books on the list seemed "so strange, so foreign." The mother, a pretty, thin woman with short, dark red hair was chattering enthusiastically with one of her daughters, while the other stood just behind them, arms crossed, face set, looking entirely put-upon and annoyed to be there. Sirius caught snippets of their conversation, the mother asking questions such as "wherever are we going to find all of this stuff—caldrons, robes, potion ingredients?" The daughter had her back to Sirius so all he could tell was that she was tall and thin, like her parents, with a long mane of thick, blood red hair, was patiently telling her mother, "We'll find it eventually, mum. I'm sure someone here will help us out. Indeed, one of the witches working there seemed to notice the family's confusion as well and went over to help.

Orion snorted. "Mudbloods. The vilest sort of half-breeds."

Sirius frowned and looked back at his magazine, not wanting to engage in this inevitable conversation.

"Hogwarts has certainly gone downhill since our days." Cassiopeia assented. "Used to be they had standards."

"It must be that new Headmaster they hired." Orion mused. "I'd heard about his soft spot for mudbloods."

"It's always a shame when a pureblood gets such…ideas."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I, personally, do not know why they would ever accept mudbloods into school, Uncle." Narcissa Black commented, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder. "As if they could ever measure up to our kind."

"You're a good girl, Narcissa." Orion said kindly, putting an arm around her shoulders. "A girl with pride in who she is, and what she stands for, understanding that blood will out. A true Black. I just wish my oldest son were more like you."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Narcissa smirk at him.

"Hopefully he will, Uncle. He just needs to learn to take pride in being pure-blooded."

Sirius' lip curled in disgust; he could no longer concentrate on his magazine.

"Yes, Cissa, he does need to take more pride in his stock. Sirius is a grave disappointment, a great disrespectful lout, who does not understand his privilege. Who, in fact, takes his lot in life for granted, and conspires with those who besmirch the name of wizard." Cassiopeia agreed, reaching out and shoving Sirius. "Boy, you hear me?"

Sirius' flared his nostrils and counted to ten to keep his temper before responding. "Yes, mother."

Sirius glanced around quickly and saw that they had roused the attention of some of the shoppers milling nearby, and some of those already in line with them. He blushed slightly, embarrassed. The daughter of that muggle family, the one with the long red hair, had turned around; she caught his eye. The girl was…striking. She had a warm, beautiful face, but it was those eyes which really struck him as remarkable. They were brilliant green, a shade Sirius had never seen before, full of light and mirth, and piercing; Sirius felt as if she was looking right through him.

"Don't take that tone with me, Boy! There's no law that says I can't slap my son in public."

"Yes, mother."

"Well, Boy, what is your response then? Surely you do enough mouthing off at home; you can't be at a loss for words now."

Sirius glowered at her. "I do have pride in what I am and what I stand for. It is you and your pureblood mania that I don't have pride in." Sirius responded resolutely, knowing he would be hit for saying so, but not caring. "I understand that people don't choose their parents and just because someone has a parent who happens to be muggle-born, does not mean they are a bad sort." Sirius pointedly used the proper term "muggle-born", rather than the slur "mudblood."

Sure enough, as Sirius had known it would happen, Cassiopeia hauled off and slapped him across the face. Sirius just stared her down, his jaw set stubbornly, though his cheek stung and his eyes tingled with forced back tears. "Are we done?"

Cassiopeia nodded haughtily. "I think you've learned your lesson."

"Oh yes." Sirius replied, bowing his head in a feigned gesture of defeat. "Quite."

When he looked up again, everyone had gone back to minding their own business, making a big show about pretending not to have seen the events which had just transpired. Well, everyone except for that pretty red-haired muggle-born girl. She just stood there, head cocked to one side, a peculiar expression on her face, her piercing green eyes locked on him. After a moment, she frowned and shrugged her shoulders at him, her eyes showing a hint of sorrow on his behalf. Finally, she looked away, and Sirius felt as if released from a spell.

Who is she? Sirius wondered.