The worst feeling you could ever have is knowing your parents reject you.

I remember a time when my family was complete.

I remember a time when my older brother cut his palm with that Mother-of-Pearl pocket knife Uncle Alphard gave him, and cut mine as well.

I can still hear him saying, "As long as I have this scar, you are my brother," before pressing his hand to mine. I remember crying out. I was but three years old, and Sirius was five.

I remember a time when my mother was concerned when Sirius absolutely INSISTED he could fly, and jumped off of Grandmother's roof, just to prove he could. Needless to say, he suffered a broken leg. Sad thing was, he signed a bunch of bogus names on his cast, such as, "Smokey McPot," until Father magicked the snide comments away, and Sirius laughed.

I can still hear Sirius whispering into the night that the dark was nothing to be afraid of.

I can still hear him promising to defend me always.

But promises get broken.

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Seeing these words put to paper hurt to read them. The notebook closed.

"I can't read this anymore." said the soft voice. His gray eyes had tears welled up in them.

"Have you got any family, Mr. Black? Anyone we can call?"

The gray eyes looked up. "My family is dead." he said softly, just as a woman walked in, dressed rather outlandishly.

"I'll take it from here," she said. The other American officials left, leaving the woman standing in front of the man with the gray eyes.

"Where am I?" the man asked.

English. Maureen thought. "You are in Salem, Massachussettes." she said.

"Massachussettes... That's in America." the man said, a dazed look coming across his face.

Maureen O'Connor had been teaching at Salem Insititute of Witchcraft for ten years. She knew this man. She had seen him once when she had visited Azkaban Prison in the North Sea. He was Sirius Black.

"Yes, it is in America, Mr. Black," she said. "Which is where you are now." Slowly, the wheels in the man's head began turning.

"Does the term Order of the Phoenix mean anything to you?" he asked, looking at her. She smiled.

"Of course it does. I joined the American branch two weeks ago." she said brightly. No smile from this man. Her smile faultered.

"Junior member," he scoffed. "And an American."

"May I remind you, Mr. Black, that you went from the English Ministry of Magic to the American Department of Magic due to an Internationally Connected veil into our own Department of Mysteries?" she asked coldly. His eyes lifted.

"A portal, you mean?" he asked. Maureen nodded.

"Yes. Anyway, have you got your Apparator's License yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, but it expired." Sirius said, pulling a Muggle wallet from his pocket. Maureen's eyes widened to see almost six thousand pounds were nestled comfortable in one flap of the wallet. He handed her the Apparator's License.

"And have you any idea who's journal it was that you were just reading?" she asked. Sirius looked up once more. He had such beautiful gray eyes. There were flecks of blue, green, and gold in them.

"Yes. My brother's. Regulus Adrian Black."

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I don't think Sirius ever meant to break the promise that he would always be there for me.

I can still hear my mother screaming about how she absolutely did NOT give birth to him when she got the owl on his sorting. I can remember thinking, "What had Sirius done?" He'd been a grade- A prat, that's what!

---------------

"I want to go home." Maureen had been sitting in Carrietta Weather's office for hours with this quiet Englishman. She and the Headmistress of Salem Insitute were shocked. The first thing this man had asked for- rather- demanded. He wanted to go home. But how do you send a man with amnesia home?

"Do you know where home is, Mr. Black?" Maureen asked gently. Sirius looked up.

"Somewhere in England. I... I can't remember where. Whenever I close my eyes, I see a boy. He looks so familiar, but whenever I try to say his name, my eyes open, and I can't remember him."

"That's so sad," Miss Weather said softly. "Perhaps this boy is your brother? The one who wrote this journal?"

"No. This boy has dark hair, and green eyes. My brother had gray eyes and blonde hair."

"Do we have any other information about him, Maureen?" Miss Weather asked.

"He's from the Black family, and we all know that they frown upon Muggle borns. His younger brother is dead, no known children. His last girlfriend, Hestia Jones, slammed the phone down, telling me that it wasn't funny to tell her her dead boyfriend was alive."

Sirius's attention perked. Hestia? God, he missed her! Staying near these damnable Americans would be a thousand times better with Hestia.

"Anyone else?"

"A man claiming to be his brother-from-another-mother called," Maureen went on. "Remus Lupin." This caught Sirius completely by surprise.

"Call him back. Tell that git I want to come home." Sirius ordered.

"Mr. Lupin has informed us that he has not GOT a phone, and he was calling from a telephone box..." she said. "What, Mr. Black, is so funny?" Sirius hadn't even realized he'd snorted.

"The look on your face. Like you've never seen a telephone box before."

"I haven't." she said flatly. Sirius rolled his eyes, and stood up, walking to the window. The two women followed him. He pointed at a telephone booth on the corner of Goode street.

"That, ladies, is a telephone box." he said, snickering again. "Is there a bathroom nearby? I need to take a shower." The women nodded, and led him towards the bathroom.