It was a crisp-aired, early autumn evening, the sun setting in the

western sky, turning the clouds hues of gold and hot pink. In the

shadow of the woods, on the edge of a small village, there was a little

cottage, and the family that lived there were enjoying the night. A

couple of leaves had fallen, spotting the yard with bursts of color here

and there, illuminated by the fading sunlight and by fireflies that flew

about, the prey of the boy who chased them, holding aloft an empty

marmalade jar. The boy was shouting excitedly as he ran, his face

happy, without a single line of worry upon it.

The boy's parents watched him running from the porch of the cottage,

sitting side by side on a swinging bench. Hope, his mother, was knitting

a scarf for the boy for that winter while Lyall, the boy's father, was

reading the Daily Prophet, a newspaper for the wizarding community.

The front cover story, and the article which he was reviewing, was

coverage of the project he'd been overseeing at his job at the Ministry

of Magic. Lyall and several of his colleagues had been selected to be on

the board for the Department of Magical Community Welfare and the

Interspecies Liaison Office to write and propose a new decree that

would work to protect people from attacks of werewolves, which was a

growing concern as lycanthropy had suddenly seemed to blossom quite

wildly throughout Britain in the late 1950s. The Werewolf Restriction

Act of 1963 had passed only that week, and the Daily Prophet was

already reporting a great resistance from the werewolves that didn't like

the finer points of the Restriction Act - such as having to register and

surrender to be quarantined for several days each cycle until the full

moon had passed. Some of the werewolves were revolting, trying to get

the Act cancelled, but there were too many supporters that rallied

against them. The Act was sure to be upheld and the werewolves would

be forced to abide by the laws that Lyall, as the head of the

committee, had set to protect the people.

The sky was turning purple at last, and Hope stood up, her lovely

blonde curls settling upon her shoulders as she tucked her knitting into

a bag at her feet. She was a muggle woman with such a beautiful face

that she'd once been told she should be in the movies, but she'd fallen

in love with Lyall and didn't want to leave the UK for the glitz and

glamour that was Hollywood. She was quite glad, too, once she'd

married him and Lyall revealed to her that he was a wizard. Her life had

been turned upside down at the revelation at first, but since then she'd

settled quite happily into her life

all and couldn't picture having chosen any other path for themselves. Especially since they'd had

Remus. He was her pride and her joy, and Lyall's, too.

Never had there been a boy more loved than Remus John Lupin.

"Remus." called Hope, her voice ringing across the yard, "It's time to go

inside, Remus was busy, cornering a frog in the corner of a tree's roots, and

did not hear her.

Hope started down the steps of the porch and was just taking her first

stride toward Remus when she stopped short and gasped. "Lyall," she

choked the name.

Lyall Lupin was already standing up himself, having folded over the

newspaper and dropped it onto the swinging bench. He moved quickly

down the steps of the porch and stood before his wife in a protective

stance as the gate latch was lifted and it creaked opened and a most

fearsome stranger stepped within the confines of the yard.

Remus looked up from the tree and was transfixed instantly by the

appearance of the stranger. The man wasn't tall so much as foreboding

and his hair was messy and dirty... shaggy, even. His face was lined

with a wiry scruff that framed his jaw and traveled down his throat,

peeking from beneath the V neck of his shirt. As he walked by, the

long trench coat that he wore moved in the air and a scent like dirty

copper followed him - the smell of blood.

"Fenrir," Lyall said. His knuckles were white, he was gripping his wand

so tightly, arm pressed to his side, only just barely resisting taking aim.

"You shouldn't be out tonight." He glanced nervously up at the

deepening shade of the sky above.

"Shouldn't 1?" Fenrir asked, voice barely more than a growl. He eyed

Lyall from beneath thick eyebrows and over a shaking sneer that bent

his upper lip into a grimace.

Lyall's voice shook. "The Werewolf Restriction Act clearly states that "You think I'm goin' to obey that rubbish Act of yours?" Fenrir hissed between his teeth, between his teeth, which showed as he smiled now in a false sort of

way, revealing the awful yellowed fangs. "Who're you to tell me what I

can and can't do, Lupin?" he asked thickly. "You think I'm some how

lesser than you? That I'm some kind of dog?"

Lyall took a deep breath, "It's not a matter of - of inferiority," hestammered. "I'm simply thinking of what's best - what's safest - foreveryone, Fenrir. You're dangerous under the full moon. I understand you can't control it, but that's why we must lock your kind up when

you've become a threat, so that others don't get hurt and -"

"Can't control it?" Fenrir's laugh was more like a bark than a true laugh.

'I can control it enough." He glowered at Lyall.

"But you can't! It isn't your fault; none of you can control it!" Hope exclaimed from behind Lyall's back, "Only a month ago a werewolf bit a

young girl in Surrey, didn't he? She's still at St. Mungo's according to the article. Critical condition, she may not live and if she does it'll be.. with…. your…. your condition." Fenrir's eyes flashed and looked at Hope with a lustful stare. "Wouldn't I like to bite you, gorgeous?" he growled, miming nipping at her by snapping his teeth, "Right in your pretty little neck... or maybe your thigh…. draw the blood and suck it from your veins. "Enough!" shouted Lyall as Hope ducked behind him fearfully. He raised

the wand with a shaking hand. You need to leave, Fenrir. The moon will be out soon and it's full tonight. You need to go home and lock

yourself up, keep the community safe from your rampage." Fenrir chortled at the wand and lifted his palm, pushing the tip of it

away from him. "Calm yourself, Lyall," he drawled. "I haven't even given you the present I came to deliver yet." He grinned as the clouds shifted and the deep velvet sky was revealed and the bright light of the full moon overhead burst upon them. If Remus had been fascinated by the stranger before, it was nothing compared to what happened next. Shaking, Fenrir had stumbled back a couple steps from the porch of the house as the moon struck him, and

he dropped to his knees as hair sprouted up the length of his arms and burst from the skin of him all over as his clothes fell away from his body and he was transformed - snout and all - into the largest wolf that Remus could ever have imagined. Fenrir's wolf form was silver and

his back had coarse hair that seemed to ridge along his spine with black tips that made him look even more menacing as a wolf than he'd seemed as a person. He let out a long, low howl, his face tilted upwards at the moonlight. "Hope, get inside," Lyall had said quickly, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he pushed his wife towards the stairway of the porch, his sole thought on getting her out of sight as Fenrir had already expressed an interest in biting her. "But - but Remus!" Hope wailed and she struggled against Lyall and rushed without a second thought past the still transforming Fenrir to where Remus stood in the dark yard, several feet away from the wolf. If she hadn't rushed to him, perhaps Fenrir never would have noticed him at all, for he'd been impossibly quiet through the entire affair. But Hope had run toward him, facing the danger of the werewolf and betraying the thing which they loved most She didn't move fast enough, though. Fenrir's transformation completed before she'd made it to Remus's side and he lunged ahead of her, teeth bared, and Remus was too shocked and unprepared to defend himself, being only three years old, and before anything could be done, Fenrir's teeth had sunk deep into the flesh of Remus's shoulder. "No! No! No, please!" Hope wailed, "Not my boy! Please, don't kill him!" But Fenrir had never meant to kill. He brought his teeth away, mouth dripping with Remus's blood and stared at Lyall with his intensely piercing wolfish eyes as Hope dropped to her knees,r pulling the jumper from her shoulders to wrap around Remus's wound as he lay on the ground, convulsing as the venom of the werewolf blistered it's way through his bloodstream, changing everything about him, rewriting his cells and infecting him permanently with the lycanthropy. Lyall, staring across the lawn at his beloved son, knowing the fate that would await him, fell to his knees, letting out a low, guttural sound of despair. Satisfied that his revenge was severe enough, Fenrir Greyback ran away.

chapter 2

"Wake up, Tuney, wake up!" Lily's voice was rapt with excitement as

she shook her twin sister's shoulder. "Oh do wake up Tuney. Wait "til

you see!" She scrambled away from the bed excitedly, unable to stand

still long enough for Petunia to wake up all the way

When Pentunia pushed back the bed curtains that surrounded her four-

poster, she found quite a scene indeed. "What - what is all this?" she

stammered, looking about... for the girls' bedroom had become a

miniature winter wonderland, with snowflakes falling gently from a tiny

cloud that hung by the ceiling fan overhead. Lily was already excitedly

working on rolling out the body of a snowman.

It was Christmas and the weather had been uncharacteristically warm for

the winter, not a single flake of snow had fallen yet out of doors.

Petunia, whose favorite thing about Christmas was the snow, had been

telling Lily not even a week ago how sad she was feeling without the

snow fall that usually came with winter, and now here it was.. their

own personal blizzard. Outside the window, the grass was still dead and

rotting on the lawn, but inside the finest powder, perfect for snowball

fights and fort building, had fallen overnight. Like magic.

Lily grinned happily at her sister.

"Surprise!" she gasped, then covered

her mouth with her fingers, giggling to herself with nervous glances at

the door to the hallway. She didn't want to wake up their parents,

afraid they'd be angry about the snow inside the house. Lily's eyes

were dancing with enthusiasm, though. "It's my Christmas present to

you, Tuney!" she whispered. "Happy Christmas!"

Petunia was sitting on the very edge of her bed. She stared at the

sparking flakes around her.

"But - but how?" she asked.

"Magic," whispered Lily.

Petunia frowned.

"Stop that lying, Lily, and tell me how."

"I'm not lying and you know it, Tuney," Lily replied. "I told Sev about

how you wanted the snow for Christmas and he showed me a spell to

make it. I made the snow myself, just for you, Tuney." She smiled,

quite proud of herself, then waved an arm eagerly, "C'mon. Come help

me with this snowman. We'll make him look really cool and show

mummy and da. C'mon. It's not cold, really Petunia hesitated, torn between telling off Lily and joining her. Finally,

she was overcome by temptation and slipped out of bed in her

nightgown and walked gingerly to where Lily was kneeling by the ends

of their beds. Lily was right; the snow wasn't cold, it just looked like it

ought to be. In reality, it was as warm and squishy between Petunia's

toes as beach sand would be. It was the most amazing thing she had

ever experienced. Her eyes were wide and her hands trembled with

excitement as she joined Lily in pushing a giant ball of snow around the

room, forming the base of their snowman. They worked together,

petting and pawing at the snow, until they'd formed the most

handsome snowman either of them had ever seen before. Lily shoved a

school pencil in for a nose and a couple of spare buttons from her wool

coat pocket for eyes. The two sisters stood back and stared at their

creation, giggling at him happily. They fell back onto the floor and made

snow angels before laying quiet, side by side, staring up at the ceiling

breathlessly.

"Sev will be really proud," Lily commented. "I can't wait to tell him the

spell worked." She grinned and rolled over to look at Petunia.

At this, Petunia frowned.

"Sev?" she said shrilly, then, "Not that boy

from Spinner's End?"

Lily sat up.

"So what if he's from Spinner's End?"

Petunia made a face. "Lily, Spinner's End is where the poor people live.

They're filthy there. They have cockroaches and smell funny because

they don't take baths."

Lily's eyebrows came together in concern, "Sev can't help where he's

from, Petunia.

"His hair is always filthy."

Lily stood up and walked away from where Petunia lay in the warm

snow, fuming. She stood by the window and stared out across the front

lawn at the Christmas lights twinkling in Mrs. Nextdoor's yard as the sun

was beginning to come up. Soon, their parents would be expecting them

to get up and go downstairs and see the presents from Father

Christmas and they'd all have a great breakfast together and a feast. The thought of these Christmas luxuries had been haunting her for some time now, ever since she'd met and started getting to know severus snape.

Petunia was right. Spinner's End was where the poor people lived and

the Snapes were among the very poorest of the poor there. It was

because Tobias Snape, his father, had married his mother for money. A

lazy muggle man, Tobias had been fired from every job he had ever

tried to hold in all of his life and he'd been searching desperately for his

lucky break when he met Eileen Prince. Eileen had seemed to have an

unending amount of riches and Tobias Snape had envisioned a life of

luxurious living, servants to wait upon him hand and foot, and a

beautiful wife to boot - and so, more for thirst for money than for love,

Tobias courted her. The problem, of course, came when Eileen's

pureblood wizarding family had discovered that she was marrying a

common muggle man and disowned her, cutting her off entirely from

the family's wealth. She'd told Tobias only after they were married.

Tobias felt he had been tricked into marrying her, suddenly seeing her

as somehow damaged or deformed because she was a witch, and

Eileen's heart was broken because of all she'd sacrificed for him, only to

learn that he did not love her. So, dependant on Tobias's paychecks,

which he rarely managed to earn, the family had fallen into a state of

disrepair.

Severus had told her the story once as they sat under an oak tree by

the pond. "They fight all the time," he said, staring down at a long

blade of grass he had plucked from a nearby clump. He was folding it

carefully.

"They're always yelling so loudly that the neighbors can hear

and the kids always make fun of me. They think they're better than I

am. They think I'm rubbish."

Lily had put a hand on his shoulder, "I don't think you're rubbish, Sev."

He had felt a lump rise up in his throat at these words and continued

staring down at the grass blade he'd been playing with, then he turned

to her and wrapped his hand closed around it and breathed into his

palms, opening up his hands and releasing a brilliant green bird that

fluttered over and landed on Lily's knee before -poof!- turning back into

a carefully folded blade of grass

Severus Snape might come from the poor side of town but he was

kinder and gentler than any of the nasty boys that lived around the

Evans neighborhood here in the 'nice part' of town. Lily didn't

understand why Petunia couldn't see that. Money didn't make a bit of

difference about who a person was. Good people could have money or

be poor and still be good people, and likewise one was not necessarily a bad person for lacking money.

Lily turned around to face Petunia, who had gotten back onto the bed.

'I was only able to make you the snow for Christmas because Severus

helped me." she said.

Petunia lay back into her pillows, staring up at the cloth ceiling of her

four-poster, acting as though she could not hear Lily

"I made your biggest Christmas wish come true, Tuney, because you're

my sister and I love you," Lily said. She crawled onto her own bed so

that she was kneeling, staring at Petunia across the three foot gap

between their bedsides.

"You know what I wish for more than anything

in the whole world?" she asked. Petunia didn't respond, so Lily pressed

on, "I wish that you wouldn't be so hateful to Severus. Just give him a

chance, Tuney."

But Petunia rolled over, putting her back to Lily

Lily felt hot tears in her eyes.

"Fine." she hissed, "Fine, be that way."

Lily got up.

"Incendio," she said as she waved her hands at the snow,

melting it all away, just as Severus had taught her to do, leaving only

the snowman, looking sad and droopy now that he was the only snow in

the room and she said, "There I've left you a new sister to replace me,

since you don't give a damn about me anymore." She stormed out of

the room.

Petunia rolled over and sat up as the bedroom door closed and she

stared at the snowman from the foot of her bed. She hesitated, afraid

Lily would come back, or that she was just outside the door, listening.

But Petunia didn't see her shadows beneath the door, so she climbed

down from the bed and walked over to the snowman. They'd drawn a

curved line in his face for a mouth and he smiled at her with it now.

Petunia hesitated, then carefully raised her hands as Lily had done and

whispered, "Incendio."

Nothing happened.

"'Incendio," she whispered again.

Still nothing happened.

Petunia felt hot tears burning her eyes. "We're supposed to be twins,"

she hissed, angry, "We're supposed to be just alike." She reached

forward and shoved the snowman down, watching as his head fell off

and broke apart, the button eyes rolling away across the room.

chapter 3

Walburga Black was in the library, having her afternoon tea, while her

sons, Sirius and Regulus, studied from books. Walburga was tightening

the knotted bun on the back of her neck when there was a knock at

the front door. The two boys looked up. There was never a knock on

the door - ever. Their house was unplottable, invisible to the eye unless

you knew it was there. "Kreacher!" Walburga's voice was stern,

"Get the

door"

The ratted little house elf nodded from the floor, where he'd been

hovering, awaiting instructions after giving his mistress her tea.

"Yes,

Kreacher will get the door for his mistress," he croaked and rushed off,

nearly tripping over his pillowcase toga in his haste.

"Who is it, mother?" Regulus asked.

Walburga's mouth was a tight line. "I don't know, Regulus."

A moment later, reacher's shuffling footsteps were followed by two

other sets on the stairs. reacher came into the library alone first and

said, "Miss Prince and her son to see you, mistress."

Walburga's face squeezed into a disgruntled frown.

"Show them in,

then." she murmured.

The door opened and a woman with filthy black hair and dark, deep-set

eyes stepped in, followed by a boy about Sirius's age, with equally dirty

black hair. Sirius looked at Regulus and they both smirked at one

another.

"What do you want, blood traitor?" Walburga asked.

"Walburga," whispered Eileen Prince, "Please. It's my family. We have no

means to get food and my son -" she put her palm on Severus's

shoulders, "- I can't let him go hungry. Please help us."

Sirius's eyes met Severus's, a ghost of a mocking grin still playing upon

Sirius's lips. Severus felt a hot flush of embarrassment warm his neck

and cheeks and looked away quickly. "Hasn't he got any shampoo?"

Regulus asked Sirius quietly.

"Doesn't use it if he does," Sirius hissed back. "Maybe he likes being

greasy."

Severus swallowed back the rising lump in his throat.

"What do I care about your filthy half-blood son?" Walburga demanded,

staring down her nose at Severus. Her eyes moved back to meet

Eileen's.

"He may be half-blood, yes," Eileen agreed, "But he is half-blood Prince.

That ought to mean something to you. Your precious blood flows in his

veins the same as it does in your sons!"

Walburga looked at her sons, who quickly made as though they'd never

looked up from their books, and said, "My sons are of the noble House

of Black, pure blood runs through their veins. They are not foul blood

traitors."

Eileen frowned. "Walburga, I am your sister! Doesn't that mean anything

to you at all? We are family!"

"No, we are not." Walburga's voice was sharp and she shook her head.

The truth was that Eileen was Walburga's half-sister, the daughter of

her mother from a second marriage after the death of her father.

"You

are a stain upon the family name! No family of mine would marry

muggle filth as you have, Eileen. No family of mine would believe that

half-blood is a status of which to hold pride. Your son is a blemish on

the family line - as are you!"

"Walburga!" cried Eileen, shocked, "How could you

Severus's face was flushed once more and he felt the corners of his

eyes burning, threatening tears to fall, and he sniffed, trying to keep his

composure as steady as he could, afraid of the shame that was welling

up in him.

"He's snivelling," hissed Regulus.

"'Snivellus Snape," snickered Sirius.

Severus closed his eyes, anger building in his stomach. He was

humiliated. Only the worst circumstances could have brought Eileen to

Walburga's house - and they'd reached the rock bottom back home as

Tobias was in his sixth month of unemployment. They'd been living off

only the smallest of provisions that could be picked in their gardens for quite some time, but as it was winter the food they could grow was

running out. Severus thought to himself that he would rather starve

than beg for help like this.

Walburga had gotten up and walked to the wall as Eileen wept. Up on

the wall there was a tapestry, the family tree of the pure blood line of

the House of Black, depicting crisscrossing family lines, recording every

union in the ancestry, convoluted by years of cousins marrying cousins

to keep the blood pure. About halfway down the wall, Walburga pointed

her wand at Eileen's entry upon the tree, connected by a thin green

threaded line, curling away from Walburga's entry through her mother,

Irma Crabbe. She snaked her wand around the portrait of Eileen slowly,

menacingly, like a silent threat. Then she looked into Eileen's eves,

a

cold, regal expression in her eyes. "Obliterus," she whispered, and a jet

of icy-white light blasted Eileen's name from the tapestry.

Eileen gave a desperate shriek of despair. "Walburga! Please!" she

sobbed, "Don't you remember, when we were children? We played

together! We were so close - best friends - why would you - how could

yOu

Il

Severus wrapped his fists into her robes. "Mother, we should go," he

said, recognizing that the cold in Walburga's face would not be moved

by the tears she was shedding.

"Leave my home!" Walburga shouted, pointing her wand violently

towards the door, making it swing open on it's hinges quickly.

"Kreacher!" she shrieked, "Kreacher! See this filthy blood traitor to the

door! Shame upon the House of Black!"

reacher rushed forward and waved to Eileen and Severus to follow him as he shuffled to the door. "Yes." he muttered, "Yes, reacher will show the half-blood filth from the house... yes….. out of the noble House. Walburga was staring down her nose in hatred at both of them as reacher beckoned to them. "Noble!" Eileen wailed, "What is noble about this house when youcannot even help family?" Fat tears streaked her cheeks. "Mother." Severus pleaded. Regulus leaned closer to Sirius, "Imagine having that for a mother?" he whispered. "No wonder he's a sniveling, brainless git." He grinned

wickedly, and both boys snickered quietly.

Severus was certain that his face had never been so hotly flushed. If he

could have melted into the carpet at that very moment, he would have.

He wanted nothing more in the world as much as he wanted to get out

of that library - out of that house - and as far away from Walburga and her sons as he possibly could. "Mother," Severus said firmly, taking her

hand in his and pulling her toward the door, "Let's go." Sobbing still, Eileen finally consented to be led from the room asSeverus pulled her along after the hobbling house elf, down the stairs and out of the house. The echoing of their footsteps down the stairs was drowned out by Walburga's shrieking screams, "Filth! Mudbloods! Stairs! An abhorration to all wizarding pure bloodlines!" Kreacher pulled open the front door of the house. "Go and I bid you to never darken the door of this house again!"

chapter 4

Sirius Black took up a new hobby over the Spring that followed that

visit from Eileen Prince. He called it "muggle watching". He never

connected this new hobby with the visit of Eileen Prince and her ten

year old son - but whether he realized it or not, there had been a

nagging question that had seemed to tumble about in his mind ever

since they'd been there. He would perch himself in the attic of Number

12 Grimmauld Place with an old pair of Omnioculars obtained at a

Quidditch game Orion Black had taken Sirius and his brother to for

Sirius's birthday present. He would spin the dial and watch the muggles

as they moved about the park opposite the house, walking dogs and

playing games in the shade of the trees as the months grew steadily

warmer. Was there a difference between muggles and wizards? Was

there really a reason for the hatred that his parents always displayed

toward them?

The Blacks had always gone out of their way to demonstrate their

hatred, actually. Orion Black was always blatantly ignoring the Statute of

Secrecy, refusing to don muggle clothes, even when venturing into

London's public streets. He shot icy glares at anyone who dared to

stare at him for his billowing robes. Walburga would mutter strings of

insults under her breath as she passed anyone who was not of pure

blood descent. She had blasted many a face off the Black family tree as

she'd done Eileen Prince, all sorts of offenses could lead to the

obliteration of entire branches of the tree.

"Filth," she'd hissed at the

tapestry each time. The Blacks, too, had become very interested lately

in the political movements of a new leader, a Dark Lord that they spoke

of very fondly over the dinner table at night as Kreacher scrambled to

serve the family their meals. The Blacks eagerly gave of their fortunes

to the Dark Lord's cause, looking forward to the day when they could

do more. The Dark Lord would change the way things were looked at,

they boasted, and set things right in the wizarding world. Blood status

would finally be given the attention it deserved, and pure bloods would

become rulers over the filth that were half-bloods, mudbloods, and

muggles. But in all the time that Sirius had listened to his parent's steady

streams of hatred, he'd never once really heard a reason for why they

hated the muggles and half-bloods, and he was at an age that he felt

silly asking why now - it was something he should've asked when he

was a child, something that his parents just expected him to know by instinct. So he planned to observe it himself. Thus, the Muggle Watching.

Everyday, Sirius would sit in the attic, perched on the sill of the upper

most window of the house, staring out through his omnioculars. At first,

his time in the attic was punctuated by visits from Regulus, who would

wander up asking him to interrupt his spying to play a game of

Exploding Snap, but as Regulus learned that Sirius never agreed to play,

he eventually stopped coming up, opting to teach Kreacher how to play

instead. Sirius would lose track of time and arrive late to dinner at the

family table or completely neglect his studies for an entire day, caught

up in the goings-on of the muggles that visited the square.

One boy in particular had caught Sirius's attention more than any others

that frequented the park. The boy would come to the park alone and

sit on a bench and draw in a notebook. He drew great pictures that

Sirius often zoomed the omnioculars in on to see - pictures of pirates

and knights of the round table and merfolk and astronauts and all kinds

of things. The boy's pencil strokes were like magic, the way he pressed

the charcoal against the page changed how the marks would be formed,

and the pictures would seem to come to life - not because they were

literally moving, like wizarding images often did, but rather because they

were so well imagined that they didn't need to. Something about the

boy drew Sirius in and on days the boy didn't visit the park, Sirius

missed him as he would miss a friend.

Sirius was watching the boy one day when some other kids approached

him. The biggest knocked the boy's drawing pad to the ground and

stepped upon it, smashing the delicate white pages into a puddle of

mud, an evil grin upon his face. Sirius felt warm anger travel through his

veins. The picture the boy had been drawing had been one of his best

ever - a submarine under the ocean, caught up in the great twisting

tentacles of an enormous octopus. Feeling the flush heating his face as

he glowered down, Sirius only became more outraged as he watched the kids laughing and tossing the boy's drawing utensils about, breaking the pencils and sharpener. One of them grabbed the boy himself and began to beat on him. Unable to sit by and watch any longer, Sirius threw down his omnioculars and ran down the stairs, passing reacher carrying a tray of hot chocolate to Regulus's room. "Master is running in the house and mistress doesn't like it when young masters run in the house." he croaked as Sirius rushed by. "Knock off, Kreacher." Sirius shouted as he thundered onward down the

stairs.

"What is all of this ridiculous racket?" shrieked Walburga's voice from

the library. "Kreacher! What is going on out there?"

"Mistress is angry," Kreacher grumbled, "Kreacher is going to be telling

mistress about master Sirius's naughty running."

"Well go on then if you must," Sirius said, and he ran off down the hall

as Kreacher shuffled back to the library door. Sirius didn't have time to

worry about Walburga's anger at the time, though, for he'd already

taken longer than he'd wanted in coming down the stairs, and there

was the boy, still locked tight in the grasp of the others, kicking and

crying to be let go of. Sirius ran across the street and into the park

and right up to the bullies and their prey and shouted, "Let go of him!"

at the top of his voice, shoving his palms solidly against the nearest of

the bullies.

"Who the hell're you?" asked the biggest bully, the one who had his

arm 'round the neck of the boy Sirius had been watching. The boy

kicked against the bully, trying to free himself, his eyes widely staring

at Sirius, clearly thinking the same question as the bully was.

Sirius felt uncontrollable magic welling up inside him, as though he were

a grenade about to go off, and he shouted, "I said let - go - of

him!" And with a great cracking sound, the magic erupted from him and

the bully, not knowing what in the world had struck him, let go of the

boy, suddenly quite bloody 'round the nose. He clutched his face and

hollered loudly.

"What the bloody hell have you done?" wheezed the boy, looking wildly at Sirius as he scrambled away from the bloody-faced bully. The other two bullies looked at each other, their nerves evaporated, and the three of them ran off, shouting vows over their shoulders, "This ain't over Spencer!" Sirius bent and helped the boy collect his drawing pencils, or at least what was left to them, and the boy shook out his sketchbook, mud splattering out from the pages. He frowned, "I think they're ruined," he muttered. "A quick siphoning spell would clean them right off," Sirius said.

"A what?" the boy looked 'round at him, confused.

"A siphoning

"but Sirius didn't get the words out for at that moment,

Walburga had stepped out onto the front stoop of Number 12

Grimmauld Place, her face furiously contorted, Kreacher at her side,

dancing foot to foot. Walburga's face was practically purple and Sirius

could see the anger etched in deep lines across her features, even from

way across the street.

"SIRIUS!" she bellowed. Though her voice had been quite ringing to

Sirius, the boy, Spencer they'd called him, didn't seem to hear it at all.

')gotta go," Sirius said. "Let me fix your book for you," he suggested.

"I'll give it back tomorrow."

The boy shrugged and handed Sirius the sketch book. "It's rubbish

anyway, you can have it."

"I think the drawings are spectacular," Sirius replied.

"SIRIUS!"

"Gotta go." He tucked the sketchbook under his arm and ran, sprinting

across the road. He wondered what the boy thought when he crossed

the threshold to Number 12 because it was invisible to muggles. Sirius

wasn't sure how it would look to Spencer - like he'd simply vanished,

perhaps? There was no telling.

By the time he reached the stoop, though, and looked into his mother's

fierce eyes, Sirius wished he had vanished.

"What were you doing? Consorting with that muggle filth!" Walburga grabbed Sirius by the hair and pulled him along behind her into Number 12, ignoring his cries as she did so. Kreacher cackled and shut the door of the house behind them, bolting the wild assortment of locks behind him with a series of squeaks and clicks. Walburga dragged Sirius up the stairs to the library. "Go to your room!" she shrieked at Regulus, who had crept down onto the stairwell just outside the library, a look of curiosity on his face. Regulus didn't hesitate, he ran off quickly, feet thundering on the stairs as he went. Walburga slammed the door shut flag with a flick of her wand, locking it, too, and hurled Sirius onto the floor.

"Crucio!" she shouted.

It was an unbelievable pain, like none Sirius had ever felt before, as

though a hundred thousand fiery swords had been jabbed through his

flesh at the same time. Every muscle throbbed, every nerve twinged. He

could hear his own voice shouting, screaming for it to stop, but

Walburga didn't stop for what felt like centuries. When she finally

lowered her wand, Sirius pulled his knees to his chest, sore all over,

crying and choking on his own tears. He rocked himself slowly, his cheek

pressed to the carpet as Walburga stood over him, her regal chin held

high, sneering at him down the length of her nose.

"You do not want to become a blood traitor, Sirius," she hissed. "You

are a son of the House of Black! You are better than that! And what is

this?" she snatched the sketchbook from under Sirius's arm. She flicked

through the pages quickly,

"Is this that muggle child's?" she demanded.

"Mine," squeaked Sirius, lying.

"Mine. I did them."

Walburga stared at him for a long moment, as though appraising

whether she believed him or not, then flung the book across the room

carelessly. She swept closer to Sirius so that he could smell the heat of

her breath as their faces nearly touched, her black curly hair hanging

over them like a privacy curtain. Her voice was low, quietly dangerous,

and sinister. "I forbid you ever see that muggle again," she hissed.

"But why?" Sirius asked, "Why do we have to hate the muggles?"

"Because they are beneath us, Sirius, we are better than they are. We

are magic.

"But that doesn't mean they're no good," Sirius argued.

"Muggle-borns

are magic, too, and you hate them. So's half-bloods. Walburga's anger flared, "Because - we - are - better!" she seethed the words. "We are of royal stock, Sirius, we are descended from Salazar Slytherin, we are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight." She stood up, again holding her chin at a regal tilt. She stared at him, disgusted. "The day I would have believed that a son of mine would question the worthlessness of muggles - I never." She shook her head. "I believed you would do great things, Sirius. I believed you were raised correctly, that I'd taught you well, that one day you might go into the service of

the Dark Lord and become one of the greatest wizards of our time.

Sirius's words were desperate,

'I want to become a great wizard."

"Then you had better rethink your stand on the muggles. The Dark Lord

would not tolerate the shenanigans of this day." Walburga said. She

took a deep, steadying breath and then, in a much cooler voice, '

"Sirius,

it is for your own good that we keep you from the muggles. They are

dangerous and terrible." She swept to one of the shelves of books and

pulled one down and carried it to where he was struggling to sit up, still

sore from the cruciatus curse. "Here," she said, thrusting the book at

him.

"Muggles and Mudbloods: The Reason Why the Pureblood Wizarding

Families Have Got the Right Idea About Purity And Why We Ought to

Listen To Them." Sirius read the title aloud.

"Go to your room and study that book," Walburga said sternly,

"And

don't come down until you're ready to be a proper member of the

House of Black."

Sirius got up, every ounce of his body stiff and smarting, and grabbed

the crumpled sketchbook from the floor, dripping mud. He tucked both

books beneath his arm and trudged to the stairs. Regulus was standing

a couple steps up, wide eyed, having overheard the entire thing. He

turned to watch Sirius climb the steps. Sirius carried the books into his

bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

He sat down on the bed and put the book in front of himself, but

instead of opening it straight-away, he lifted the sketchbook and shook

it out a few more times, letting mud splatter about the room. When he'd managed to shake off a good amount of the dirt, he opened the book and flipped through the pages of the pictures that Spencer had drawn. His mother was wrong, he thought, and so was that Dark Lord she was always talking about. So was anyone who thought that muggles were incapable of goodness for Spencer had created goodness in this sketchbook. Perhaps he couldn't cast spells or anything but his pencils were sort of a wand - he had certainly done a sort of magic for Sirius Black wouldn't ever be the same.

chapter 5

James's eyes popped open at 5:00 in the morning, sharp, on 1

September. He stared up at the ceiling, a feeling of intense anticipation

crawling through his body. It wasn't even light outside yet, but there

was no way that James was going back to sleep now. He sat up and

snatched his glasses off his nightstand, jamming them onto his face

quickly. This was no ordinary day, after all. This was the first day of

term - the first day of Hogwarts. He looked over at his trunk, all

packed and ready to go. Inside were his new books, robes,

quills,

parchment, potions ingredients, and all of the other things that he

would need for his studies. On top was a cage containing a spotted

wood owl named Bubo, who looked up with his wide yellow eyes when

James

sat up.

"'You better be good today, Bubo," James said quietly,

"We'll be on the

Hogwarts Express later today." The owl hooted and shuffled to turn

around on his perch, putting her back towards James.

"Rude," James

accused.

Getting up from bed, James pulled on some of his muggle clothes,

which he found much more comfortable than robes usually anyway. He

tied his trainers, which he'd had his dad magic to be Gryffindor maroon

and gold, and snuck past Bubo into the hallway, careful not to awaken

the cranky owl again.

Downstairs, he found his mother, Dora, already awake and in the

kitchen. She smiled as he came in and took a seat at the table.

"Good

morning popkin," she greeted him, smiling, "Are you excited?"

James nodded heartily.

Dora smiled warmly and aimed her wand at the fridge and stove, setting bacon and eggs to sizzle in a griddle. She settled herself in the chair opposite James and stared at him with sad eyes. "I can't believe you're eleven years old already - seems like just yesterday that - that

you were - were brand new... so tiny... in my arms.. " Tears were welling up in her eyes "Mum." James voice was a warning tone, 'I can't help it!" she said tearfully, "All grown up, almost a man already…. Soon you'll be meeting someone, getting married, off into the world - becoming a big shot at the ministry. 'I'm going to be a pro Quidditch player, mum," James said, as though

he'd told her this a hundred times.

"And I'm not going to get married

ever."

"Of course you don't think so right now," Dora said, "You're just a

boy, but give it a couple years and you'll change your tune. A couple

years from now and the girls at Hogwarts will be much more

interesting than Quidditch."

"Nothing is more interesting than Quidditch, mum,"

James argued,

shaking his head. "Except maybe this bacon,." he countered as she

magicked a plate before him. He grabbed onto a strip and began to

snarf it down as though he'd never eaten in his life.

Dora smiled even more deeply, watching him eat. She got up and went

'round the table and ran her hand over his messy hair, planting a kiss

square atop his head. "I'm going to miss you - so - so - so much." She

choked up as she spoke.

James sighed, resignedly. "Oh go on then, mum, get it all out here at

home so that you'll be all done when we're on Platform 9 , please,

so that all the other kids aren't laughing at me all term for being a

mummy's boy."

"They'll be too busy seeing off their own parents to worry about

yours," Dora replied, but she turned, taking a deep breath and began

to busy herself around the kitchen.

When Charlus, James's father, came down the stairs soon after, he was levitating the trunk and Bubo, who was squawking all the way down the stairs to the front hall. "Good morning!" Charlus called as he walked into the kitchen and sat at the head of the table. "Ready for Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Yes." James replied, excitedly. Charlus looked down and spotted James's gold-and-maroon striped trainers and grinned. "Nice trainers." "Gryffindor all the way," grinned James. "Now remember, there's four houses," said Dora, putting a plate of bacon and eaas in front of her husband. James shook his head, "Yeah but I'm going to be going to be

Gryffindor."

"We'll be proud no matter what house you're in," Dora reminded him.

"Even if it's Slytherin?" James asked, a smirk playing on his mouth.

Charlus paused, a strip of bacon halfway to his mouth, hovering in the

air before him,

"Well -" he hesitated.

Dora poked him in the shoulder with the spatula she'd used to serve

his bacon to him. "Of course even Slytherin!" she said, glaring at her

husband pointedly. "Honestly, Charlus..

Charlus shrugged, then leaned forward and whispered,

"Just do your

best to avoid it, anyway." He winked and James laughed.

'I told'ja dad," James said, "I'm going to be Gryffindor. Don't worry."

The Potters were soon headed to King's Cross Station, Bubo snacking

on the

strip of bacon that James had snuck down the hallway to slip

into his cage. The ride to the station was pleasant because Charlus

was actually pretty good at driving the muggle car the Potters owned.

When they got there, Charlus sprinted to get a trolley and they loaded

James's luggage up and made their way into the station. King's Cross

was pretty quiet,

not a lot of muggles around, and it was easy to slip

through the barrier

onto Platform 9 without being spotted. James

was stunned by how much busier the platform was compared to the

rest of the station. The wizarding platform was bustling with activity

students shouting greetings, owls screeching and hooting, crying

mothers, and the hiss of the engine.

"See," Dora whispered, gesturing at some of the other students being

hugged and cried over by their mothers along the platform, "Wouldn't

be a step out of place with this lot."

"Still," James said warily.

But he didn't escape her. When they'd found their way to an empty

space along side the train, Dora enveloped James into a hug, squeezing

him tightly, her eyes welling up all over as she clutched him to her,

pleading with him to be a good boy and to enjoy the term. James's eves wandered over the crowd over her shoulders as she hugged him,

and he met the stare of a boy down the way whose mother stood

before him, saying a stuff goodbye.

"Mum, get off," James said as the boy watched him. "I gotta go, I

wanna get a good seat.

"C'mon Dora," Charlus agreed, pulling her back, "Good luck, son."

"Thanks dad," James said, smiling up at him. "Bye mum."

"Write us loads of owls," she cried tearfully, clutching onto Charlus's

arm as she'd done James.

"I will," James promised, then, with a wave, he turned and climbed

aboard the Hogwarts Express for the very first time.

Being on the train was a bit intimidating. There were older students all

up

and down the length of the train, in little clusters of friends,

chatting and catching up. James felt as though he might be the only

first year on the train. He wandered slowly along, peering in the

compartments, hopeful that he'd find an empty one, but every

compartment seemed stuffed to full with students already. The only

one he could find was towards the end of the train and it wasn't even

empty. It was just mostly empty.

A girl with bright red hair sat on one of the benches, her face close to

the window, palm pressed to the glass, staring out across the platform.

James hesitated, but there wasn't really an option, so he pushed

opened the compartment door.

''')o," he said, stepping into the compartment slowly, toting Bubo along

He took a deep breath, "Is um... this seat taken?" he waved at the

bench opposite her.

The girl looked up and shook her head. She had tear tracks across her

cheeks and her bright green eyes sparkled up at him, wet and

beautiful. "No." she said thickly.

"It's quite empty. I don't think

anybody wants to sit with the sobbing first year."

James wondered for a moment if they didn't have a good point about

it. He wasn't certain he wanted to sit with a blubbering girl, either. But again there wasn't really any options, so he smiled as best he

could and settled in.

chapter 6

The strange boy that had burst into her compartment on the Hogwarts

Express was shoving his noisy owl up on the luggage rack overhead. Lily

watched as he fought with the cage to fit in the small space. "Quiet

Bubo," the boy told the bird, and tugged a pair of robes out of his

bookbag, covering the cage with them quickly. He looked down and

caught Lily's eyes.

"Sorry," he said, and he set himself down onto the

bench across from her. "He's not used to being shut up in his cage like

this."

"It's alright," Lily replied, wiping her eyes. "He's a bird." She shrugged.

She turned to look out the window again. She could see her family. Her

mum and dad were still waving goodbye to her cheerfully, but Petunia

had set her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face. Lily

pressed her palm to the glass again. Petunia's words were still burning

her emotions like hot coals. She swallowed back the disappointment.

She wished Severus, wherever he was, would hurry up onto the train

and come find her. More than anything else, she craved his company.

She felt as though she were heartbroken, and needed to be reminded of

her excitement.

"I'm James, by the way," said the boy.

"James Potter."

"Lily Evans," she answered without looking at him.

He was quiet a moment, then, "Are you okay?" he asked.

She looked over at him.

"Just - because you're crying," he pointed out. He had a kind, worried

look in his eyes as he watched her.

Lily was about to reply when the door opened again and another boy

walked in.

"Can I sit in here?" the new boy asked.

"Sure," James replied without seeking Lily's opinion. The boy settled

himself onto the seat beside Lilv. 'I'm James.

he said

'''m Sirius." replied the new boy.

"'About what?" James asked.

"No - not serious," the answered, "Sirius. It's my name. Sirius Black."

"Oh," James nodded, "Got it." He opened his bookbag and pulled out a

magazine and a couple licorice wands. He held out the licorice wands to

Sirius and Lily. Lily shook her head, but Sirius grabbed hold of one of

the wands and bit off the tip eagerly. "D'va like Quidditch?" James

asked.

"Love it." Sirius replied.

The boys started talking about sports and Lily returned to her own

worries, staring out the window. Suddenly the train wheezed and a fresh

plume of grey-white steam clouded Platform 9, obscuring the family

left behind, waving goodbye to the students. The engine lurched and

suddenly Kings Cross station was rolling away. Lily stood up, pressing

her nose flat to the glass, watching as the train slowly pulled out from

the platform. Her heart thumped against her ribs and she gasped,

watching until her family was lost in the steam. She felt a lump rise in

her throat as she fell back onto the bench seat and covered her eyes,

crying.

"Is she alright?" Sirius whispered.

"Dunno,

" James replied quietly, "I asked her but she didn't say what the

matter was."

Lily looked up to answer them, but her eyes landed on a figure beyond

the window, passing by the compartment.

"Severus!" she called, her

heart already lightening by just seeing him.

The door opened and Severus Snape stepped into the room. "There you

are!" he said, "I've been looking everywhere

Sirius made a face as Severus stepped around him and tossed his bag

to the floor, settling onto the bench next to James, facing Lily. Above him, Bubo shrieked as the train shuddered over a crossing and the luggage all shifted. Severus looked up, then turned back to Lily, suddenly noticing for the first time that she was crying. "Are you alright?" He inched closer to the edge of his seat and wiped a thumb over her eyes gently. James was still rambling about Quidditch and broomsticks, but Sirius didn't seem to be listening, he was staring at Severus, but Severus had eyes only for Lily. "I don't want to talk to you," Lily choked.

Severus looked hurt and withdrew his palm from her cheek. "Why not?"

he asked, frowning.

"Tuney h-hates me," whimpered Lily. "Because we saw that letter from

Dumbledore." Hot tears began rolling once more down her cheeks. The

month before, Petunia had written to Dumbledore, the headmaster of

Hogwarts, begging him to allow her to come along with Lily to the

magic school, but Dumbledore had replied that Hogwarts was a school

only for those who could perform magic and Petunia was not magical

and therefore could not come to Hogwarts. When Lily had told Petunia

what she'd seen, Petunia had become very angry and accused Lily of

spying and called her a freak in a vicious tone that sizzled against Lily's

heart worse than any burn could've done.

"And we only just got her to stop blubbering," muttered James.

Severus glowered at James, but turned back to Lily quickly. "So what?"

he asked.

Lily's face hardened. "So she's my sister!" she cried. Petunia was so

much more than just a sister, too. She was a best friend. It had been

the hardest part of finding out that she was a witch, the separation

that it had driven between her and her twin. Petunia was just so

jealous! Lily felt so frustrated. If she had the power to give part of her

magic to Petunia, she would have, just to make Petunia happy. But

there was nothing Lily could do. Petunia was simply not a witch.

"So she's only a -" Severus caught himself before he could say

'muggle'. Quickly, he leaned forward and grabbed hold of Lily's hands.

"But we're going!" he said, excitement bubbling in his voice, "This is it!

We're off to Hogwarts!"

The exhilaration in his voice was insuppressible and extremely

contagious. Lily smiled in spite of herself as she mopped her tears from

her face with the corners of the witches robes she'd already pulled on.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," said Severus excitedly,

"Then we'll betoge--

"Slytherin?" James said from the corner, making a face of disapproval.

He laughed, "Who wants to be in Slytherin?" he asked. Then he turned

to Sirius, a wobbling grin upon his face, "I think I'd leave, wouldn't

you?"

Sirius, who'd still been staring at Severus, snapped to attention at the

question. Despite James's smile, he didn't smile back.

"My whole

family's been in Slytherin," he replied.

"Blimey!" cried James, eyebrows climbing his forehead, "and I thought

you seemed alright!"

This made Sirius grin. Severus was frowning severely, and Lily glanced

between the boys, following the conversation as though she were

watching a tennis match, an unsure look on her face.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition," Sirius said boastfully to James. "Where

are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James stood, his maroon and gold sneakers proudly on display as he

brandished an imaginary sword.

"Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at

heart!" he shouted, "Just like my dad."

Severus snorted,

All three of the others in the compartment turned to look at Severus.

"Got a problem with that?" James demanded, offended by the

expression playing across Severus' face.

"No," said Severus with a shrug. Normally, he was a quiet boy. His

sudden attitude was surprising to Lily, who'd only ever seen him be

more on the reserved side. He had a sneer playing on his face now,

though, that she'd never seen there before this encounter with the

Potter boy. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy.

Sirius laughed,

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?"

James roared with laugher.

Lily leaped to her feet. She wasn't sure how she'd thought moments

before that James had been a nice boy. To think she'd been on the

verge of talking to him about her worries if Sirius hadn't interrupted them! He probably would've made fun of her - the big bully. She

scowled at him, anger radiating from her as though she were putting Off

heat. "Come on, Severus," she snapped, glaring directly into James's

eyes.

"Let's find another compartment."

000-000h," Sirius laughed, grinning mockingly at Severus.

James smirked.

Lily grabbed hold of Severus's hand and pulled him to the door. Severus

stumbled as they stepped into the hall and he turned and glowered

back at James.

"See ya, Snivellus!" called Sirius, and again James and

Sirius burst into laughter as the door slammed shut behind them.

Severus, steeled by the old nickname, the embarrassment of the trip to

visit the House of Black with Eileen earlier in the year flushing him right

up the neck and turning his face red.

"C'mon," he said, attempting to

tug Lily down the train car, "I think I saw my cousin Lucius Malfoy in a compartment down this way," he said.

"He's in Seventh Year - he's Head Boy. We'll tell him they're acting up down here and he'll probably come punish them like they deserve!" His voice was eager. Lily glanced back and saw the two boys in the compartment they'd just left divvying up chocolate frogs and other snacks James was pulling from his bag.

"Okay, yeah, let's go," Lily replied, and she followed Severus down the aisles to another compartment down the way.

chapter 7

Remus sat huddled against the wall in his compartment on board the

Hogwarts Express, his knees tucked up close to his chest, a book

balancing upon them, intently reading. The other occupants of the

compartment shouted quite loudly, jumping about, tossing a balled up

Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean box and pretending that it was a snitch

they had to catch as they took turns being seeker, jumping bench to

bench and shouting. He'd already switched compartments once or else

he'd switch again, but he didn't want to end up being known as the

boy who'd visited every compartment on the train before the first hour

was up. He'd have stayed in the first compartment without any trouble

at all, if he'd been allowed to. It was held by a couple of seventh year

boys who'd been talking quietly on their bench while Remus sat on his

side, keeping to himself. But then one of the boy's cousins had come

in, along with a girl who smiled meekly at Remus, and the boy had

kicked him out. So Remus had wandered through the train until he

found the half-empty compartment in the back of the car where the

two rambunctious boys had been sitting alone. They'd introduced

themselves as James and Sirius and asked Remus if he was much into

Quidditch, which Remus wasn't, and they'd pretty much ignored him

since, choosing instead to play this noisy mock-Quidditch game, only

pausing to rush to the sweets trolley.

Nerves were eating away at Remus and his anxiety was only growing

with every bounce of the seat as James and Sirius played around him.

He struggled to keep his mind on what he was reading - his eyes kept

moving over the same sentences over and over and over. Admittedly,

he was more afraid of the effects of his - er, condition - than he was

of the actual school year. Remus was a nice guy, he knew that much

was definitely true about himself, and he wasn't nervous about making

friends for any reason other than trying to explain his monthly "illness"

that would keep him out of sight for several days every month.

His mother had warned him many times over to be very, very careful

while attending the school, to remember the risks involved in Lycanthropy and that Dumbledore was keeping an eye on him.

"Remember, go straight to the headmaster the instant you're at Hogwarts," Hope had told him repeatedly as she'd helped to pack his trunk the night before. "Dumbledore has made arrangements for you that will help you in controlling your condition." It was always his "condition" that they referred to it as, never directly calling Remus a werewolf. Speaking the word in the Lupin house would elicit a gasp from Hope and a firm scolding from Lyall. "Werewolf is a

cursed term, son," Lyall would say sternly every time the word came

up,

"You aren't a - a true werewolf. You're too good a boy for that

You'd never bite someone - but - I suppose. Just to be safe.

It had been seven years since Remus had been bitten by Fenrir

Greyback in the yard of their cottage, and since that day Lyall and

Hope had dedicated their lives to keeping Remus's condition a secret.

They shrouded him away from the world during the days of the full

moon, hiding him in a bomb shelter below the garage, which smelled of

wet paint and dust. "It's the only way, son," Lyall had said

apologetically as he stocked the shelves with food to sustain Remus and

locked him away until the moon had waned.

When Remus received his letter to Hogwarts, none of them could

believe it. Lyall had been sure there had to be some sort of mistake.

Surely Dumbledore didn't know - But Dumbledore did know. Dumbledore

just didn't hold stock in the belief that werewolves were any more

dangerous at Hogwarts than any other sort of magical person was.

"So

long as certain precautions are taken," he'd said when they family had

gone to meet with him back in May. When Lyall had worried about the

other students at Hogwarts at length, Dumbledore had said, "Don't you

worry, Mr. Lupin, I will hammer out the details and we will all have a

very pleasant term." He'd smiled at Remus and winked one of his old

blue eyes. Remus heard, via owl, that Dumbledore had spent the

summer diligently preparing for Remus's arrival. But despite all of the

headmaster's enthusiasm, it still had been with a most worried and

protective air that Hope and Lyall had brought Remus to the Hogwarts

Express that morning.

It'd been easy to be confident on Platform 9, where Hope and Lyall

had been there to do all the worrying for him, but now that they were

gone, there was no one to whom the worrying defaulted and Remus was feeling every ounce of it, squeezing up his stomach as the Hogwarts Express roared through the countryside to the school. Finally exhausted, the two boys fell back onto the benches on either side of the compartment, the one called Sirius sitting next to Remus, and panted breathlessly. James's hair was even messier than it'd been before they started messing around. Suddenly the door burst open and a bright eyed girl looked in, a shiny Head Girl pin on her chest. "Been told to tell everyone to put on their robes," the girl said, smiling brightly around at them. Were nearly there. "Hey Andromeda!" Sirius said, recognizing her. "You got Head Girl?

Wow!"

She beamed proudly; "I did. Lucius got Head Boy, too, so the family's

pretty proud. Well most of them. Some of them seem to think mine

doesn't count since I'm Hufflepuff, but wotcher on them." Andromeda

replied. "I better go, got to tell every compartment. See you at the

school. Good luck on the lake!" She ducked away, slamming the door

behind her.

"That was Andromeda Black," Sirius explained to James,

"She's my

cousin.

'I don't know my cousins," James said. "Our family isn't too chummy

with us. I don't know why. Mum cries about it a lot, but mum cries a

lot in general. Dad says it's political, the reason we aren't close, says

they're dark wizards, and they don't want to get involved in all that."

Sirius said.

"My family's all pretty dark, too. You heard Andromeda.

She's looked down on for not getting into Slytherin house and on

account she has muggle friends. I'm a little afraid of not being Slytherin,

because Mother would be hopping but at the same time..

"Sirius

looked wistful for a moment.

"Well…. what do you think about... you

know.. non pure bloods? Like half bloods and muggleborns and all

that?"

Remus looked up from his books, the conversation was suddenly a bit

interesting.

James snorted, "Blood status is such a stupid debate. It's just blood!

It's got nothing to do with how good your magic is, look at squibs!

There's loads of squibs all over the place, isn't there?"

"Well my family comes from a long, long line of pure blood wizards,"

Sirius said, "And my parents are gaga for the whole concept. They've

been long time supporters of this wizard that wants to stamp out all

the lesser bloodlines. They think they're royalty because of their stupid

blood status."

"Stupid," James said, "I'm pure blood, too, and I'm not royalty."

"Probably we have the same blood in our veins then," Sirius pointed

out. "We might even be cousins for all i Know.

"Maybe,"

James agreed, laughing. "I haven't a clue because my family

doesn't put a lot of stock in all that." He shrugged.

"So you think anyone could be a great wizard, despite what the are?"

Remus spoke up.

It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd exchanged names hours

and hours ago. James and Sirius looked over at him, startled looks on

their faces as though they'd forgotten he was there at all. "Yeah,"

James said.

"If you can perform magic, why not? Anyone who can

perform magic and goes to Hogwarts is on a equal playing field with me

as far as I'm concerned. I don't know anymore magic than anyone else

on the train for being pure blood."

'"I'm half blood," Remus said, "My mum's a muggle and my dad's a

wizard. He works at the ministry."

Sirius thought a moment. "Lupin, you said your name was, right?"

"Yeah." Remus nodded.

"Your dad must be Lyall Lupin, the one who wrote the Werewolf

Restriction Act of 1963?"

Remus nodded again.

"Well that's cool." Sirius said. "My uncle Abraxus Malfoy works at the

ministry, too." He'd have suggested that they were friends but if Lyall

Lupin had married a muggle then he knew without even researching it

that Abraxus wouldn't be friends with him

The door opened again and Andromeda stuck her head back in, glowering, "You all need to put on your school robes, will you? We're pulling up to Hogsmeade Station now!" As though to punctuate her words, the train shuddered to a halt and they could hear the steamy hiss of the engine coming to a stop. She bolted away, shouting down the corridor, trying to get things organized. James snatched his robes off the cage holding Bubo and Remus dug his up from his knapsack at his feet. Sirius had his on already. Once the boys had gotten ready, they pulled their luggage down from the overhead racks and shuffled together through the crowded train out to the platform at Hogsmeade. Students were going everywhere, bolting

around through the dark under the street lamps. "Where do we go?"

James asked cluelessly, looking around at Sirius and Remus.

'I don't know," Sirius replied.

"Firs' years, over here!" bellowed a voice.

"Firs' years, over here!"

"There -" Remus pointed over the crowd to a giant of a man

- he had

to be over 11 feet tall! - who was waving and shouting. The majority

of the crowd was going the opposite way of the man, so getting over

to him was a bit like swimming upstream a powerful river. Remus led

the way, followed by James and Sirius all the way to where the giant

man was standing with a giant clipboard, which he was making

tickmarks upon as students collected around his feet. He had unruly hair

that very nearly covered his entire face and beady black eyes that

peered out from beneath all of the hair.

James looked around and he spotted Lily and Severus not too far away

and a funny feeling came over him, seeing the tear streaks still staining

her face, her hand wrapped tightly around Severus's hand. Neither

spotted him looking, and he looked away before they could.

"Firs' years, come with me," the giant called, leading the way off the

station platform and down a roughly hewn path through a clump of

trees. "My name is Rubes Hagrid," he called over them as they walked,

'I'm the keeper o' the keys an' grounds at Hogwarts an' it's my job ter

git you lot safely ter the school." He led them out onto a pier and

suddenly across the lake they could see the ghostly black shape of the

castle against the dark blue of the sky and the wisps of grey clouds that hung around the waning three-quarter moon, all reflecting in a great dark lake that seemed to be made of pure ink in the night. Rubes Hagrid waved a dust bin lid size hand at a little flock of wood row boats. "Climb aboard." he instructed. "He's mad," whispered a couple of the first years. It took a bit for them all to get into the boats but soon James, Sirius, and Remus were huddled together in a little boat along with a couple other first years that they hadn't met on the train, and the little boats set off across the water at Hagrid's command, sailing for the castle.

chapter 8

The little boats were very unsteady on the slick black lake. They

wobbled side to side as Hagrid magicked them across the water toward

the castle. Sirius held a hand over his stomach as they floated along,

rocking, and murmured, "I wish I hadn't eaten all those pumpkin

pasties!" He looked mighty green around the gills.

"Well if you go puking make sure you do it over the edge of the boat,"

James instructed, a nervous look on his face.

"The water's actually really calm tonight, you're lucky. Usually this size

boat gets really choppy," Remus said. Both James and Sirius gave him

surprised looks. "My Dad and I used to go fishing with my uncle on my

mum's side and his son," he explained. "It's a muggle pastime, fishing.

They just go fishing for the fun of it. It's some sort of bonding ritual, I

guess.

"Blimey," James said, eyes wide, "They do this for the fun of it?"

"And they have to manually row to make it move on top of that,"

Remus said, nodding.

"Nutters," Sirius groaned. He was about to lean over the side to be sick

when he spotted Severus and Lily in the next boat over, staring in

rapture up at the castle ahead as they drew nearer and nearer. Severus

was glaring at them, his head inclined as though to listen in on their

conversation.

"Some do it for food," Remus was saying, still talking about the fishing trips, "But most are just in fun."

Sirius smirked evilly. "Hear that part of the talk, Snivelly?" he asked, "You could go fishing next time you're feeling hungry back home. Keep it in mind, ey?" Severus's face, which was already quite pale on it's own, was actually even paler in the moonlight, but his scowl was no less pronounced perhaps even more so in the contrast of it. It was Lily, though, that turned around, her eyes squinting in anger at the boys. "Just ignore them, Sev, they're just a bunch of bullying prats!" "' didn't even say anything!" James snapped defensively.

Lily replied, "You didn't tell him not to say anything either!"

"Sorry, was I supposed to be able to control everyone else at Hogwarts.

then?" James demanded

Lily shrugged, "Maybe pick your friends wiser."

"Why don't you pick your friends wiser?" asked Sirius hotly, "I'm sure

you could've done better than Severus Snape."

Lily scowled and turned her back to them.

"What was that all about?" Remus asked. The other two first years in

the boat, who had spent most of the journey across whispering to each

other quietly, looked equally disquieted by the exchange.

James replied, "That girl is batty.

Sirius nodded, "Anyone wanting to be 'round Severus Snape would have

to be.

Remus glanced over toward the other boat, where Severus and Lily

were talking quietly now, heads bowed together, and wondered why

Sirius seemed to hate the boy so much. He couldn't see anything wrong

with him, really, other than the fact that he had rather greasy hair and

a sort of malnourished skinniness to him. His long, crooked nose seemed

wildly larger than it should have, given the narrowness of the rest of his

body. But a big nose didn't make anybody a bad person before.

Remus wondered what Sirius would think of him if he knew he was a

werewolf and he vowed at that moment to never tell his secret to

anvone.

The little boats continued on, Hagrid oblivious to the growing animosity between the two boats, and soon they were right at the very foot of the castle. The rocking had slowed now they were closer to a shore, which Sirius was thankful for, he'd decided already he much preferred a broom to a boat, and was looking forward to when they could disembark from the things. They glided into what looked like a low cliff that brought them beneath the castle itself and into a sort of dungeon- like boat dock. One by one, the boats skirted the edge of a large stone landing and Hagrid, who'd gotten ashore first, helped all of the first years out and onto the ground.

"Aright then," Hagrid said, counting up the little boats to be sure

nobody had been lost out on the water, "Yeh ready fer the sortin', you

lot?" he looked around at them,

"Mus' be excited. I remember me own

sortin'….. seems like ages ago...'

" Careful no to trod on any of the tiny

first years, he made his way to the door opposite the boats and herded

them through it into a long corridor, past stationary suits of armor and

paintings and what seemed like a million old, wooden doors. They made

their way up a long staircase and found themselves in a narrow little

room where they all crowded around behind Hagrid. He looked them

over, waited for the last of them to arrive into the group, and said,

"Now yer'ta wait here," he instructed, "Professor McGonagall will be

comin' 'round fer yeh in a mo'. Nice lady, she is. She'll bring yeh in ter

the Hall ter be sorted. Good luck, the lot of yeh!" He grinned under all

that hair and turned and walked away.

The first years looked around at one another, a nervous energy filtering

through the crowd of them. Sirius looked at James and Remus with

wide eyes. Sirius whispered, "I'm so bloody nervous."

"Me, too," James admitted.

"And I," agreed Remus.

Sirius could feel his palms beginning to pool sweat. If he ended up in

Slytherin, he didn't know what he would do. Then again, he wasn't sure

what he'd do if he didn't, either. His parents would not be happy at all

if he was in any of the other houses, but a part of him wanted so

desperately to defy them in some way and being sorted to Gryffindor,

Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff seemed the ultimate way to do it. At least if

he went to Hufflepuff, he'd be with his cousin Andromeda, who was

much more kind than most of the other people in his family.. The door opened again and all the first years looked up to see a witch with long brown hair that hung in a braid over her shoulder. She wore emerald green robes and a tall hat. She had a sort of beauty about her sharp, young features. She smiled at them all in a friendly sort of way.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall," she announced, "And I'm here to bring you all into the Sorting Ceremony." Her voice carried a thick Scottish twinge to it. "You will follow me out this doorway to the Great Hall, where the other year students have had a seat at their house tables, and one by one you will be sorted. Once you have been sorted,

you will go and sit at your respective house table, where you will meet

the rest of your house members and we will all enjoy the start of term

feast." Her eyes twinkled conspiratorially, "I have heard," she added,

"That the house elves of Hogwarts have quite outdone themselves with

the meal this year, so please, give us no troubles, so that we may all

sit down and eat as quickly as possible.

There was a muttering assent through all the first years, and Professor

McGonagall turned and led them through the door and into a wide room,

decorated with banners that bore the Hogwarts crest - lion, raven,

badger, snake. Standing up at the head of the room was a long table

with a bunch of teachers seated at it, looking on joyfully as the lot of

first years shuffled by behind McGonagall. In the center stood a large

podium and behind it was a middle-aged wizard with a long greying red

beard, wearing purple robes flecked with silver stars. He smiled as they

walked in, peering at them through half-moon spectacles.

"That's Dumbledore," whispered Remus to James and Sirius.

McGonagall led them to the center of the front of the hall, facing the

teachers, and stopped them there, then went to the corner and brought

over a short, three legged stool and a worn out old brown hat that

looked quite pathetic. She put the hat on the stool and stepped back.

There was a long pause of silence, everyone around the hall staring

expectantly at the hat. Most of the first years looked quite confused,

but Sirius whispered, "That's a magic hat, that is." James and Remus looked over at him, "It can read your mind, like, and tell you what house you belong in." They looked amazed and turned back to stare at the hat. Suddenly, the brim split open and the hat seemed to come to life. It started to sing, even.

"Welcome, new students of all status, to Hogwarts castle Where throughout the year you will learn new skills Though attending class and studying might seem like quite a hassle I promise you that your filled with joy and thrills!

For it's almost time for me, the Sorting Hat, to get back to my year-

long nap!"

Everyone clapped in the entire hall, and the applause echoed off the

ceiling and the walls. The first years seemed filled with a new

determination and soon they were all shuffling forward as McGonagall

opened a scroll and read off the first name

- Abbot, Gifford! - and one

by one the students shuffled their way up to the stool and put the hat

atop their head.

Sirius didn't have long to wait.

"Black, Sirius!"

A refined cheer came from the Slytherin table, which was dotted with

faces that Sirius knew from various family functions, and Andromeda

stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted, "Go on Sirius!" at the top

of her voice, clapping wildly.

His heart seemed to crawl slowly up into his throat and Sirius climbed

up onto the stool and Professor McGonagall put the hat down on his

head. It set upon him and he waited. Then, he heard a voice. "Oh, well,

you're of the so-called Noble House of Black, I see..." mused the voice.

"I hope you were listening to my song tonight, it was aimed at those

who think the way that your family does, you know."

'I don't think like that, though," Sirius told the hat quietly. I don't

want to be like them."

"No?" asked the hat, an amused tone to it's voice, "But you'd be great,

you know. You'd accrue so much power in Slytherin. You'd be part of

something that's brewing, getting closer everyday. A great part, an

integral part. Perhaps even famous one day for it.

"I could become famous in any house," Sirius argued, "I could be a

great wizard in any house."

"But what would your family think?" asked the hat.

Sirius felt his stomach twist at the question. "I don't know," he said,

then, "I'm not sure that I care, either."

"You would defy generations of Black family tradition?" the hat

questioned.

Sirius thought it over for a moment.

"For what's right? Sure."

The hat chuckled to itself. "I can't believe this but -- GRYFFINDOR!" it

shouted the last part for everyone to hear, not just Sirius.

The hat was lifted off his head, and Sirius felt his heart richotcheting

off his rib cage. The people at the Slytherin table looked absolutely

stunned, and there were frowning, shaking heads now dotting the table.

Even Andromeda's eyes were wide with surprise, but a bit of a sparkle

and a hint of a grin was crawling across her face. The same could not

be said for Lucius Malfoy, who had stood up, prepared to welcome the

first of the new first years to the Slytherin table. He looked positively

barking mad. He sat down quickly, sour in the face, and Sirius knew that

his would not be the first disapproving glare that he would receive.

The Gryffindor table, however, had gone ballistic, screaming and waving their hands, beckoning Sirius to them - the first of the new Gryffindors.

"C'mon Sirius!" called a red-haired boy with freckles across his nose. He looked to be much older, but he was last along the bench before the open space reserved for new Gryffindors. He grinned and patted the bench beside him and Sirius scrambled from the stool and rushed over, joining him at the table. "I'm Bilius Weasley," the boy greeted him,

"Welcome to Gryffindor."

Sirius grinned, "Thanks," he said, and he shook the boy's warm hand excitedly.

chapter 9

One of the awful boys from the train had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Well, thought Lily, tightening her grip on Severus's hand, that settled

that - she definitely did not want to be sorted to Gryffindor if that was

the sort that ended up in that house! She couldn't imagine spending the

entire term with Sirius Black sharing the same breathing space as her. It

made her shudder. Besides - it would be utter chaos, him and Severus

together in one room all term! They'd be fighting constantly!

Lily watched a couple more students sorted - Carin, Dorothy and

Drewer, Penelope both went to Hufflepuff - and then Professor

McGonagall called, "Evans, Lilv!"

The world seemed to stop. She turned, panicked, to Severus. "I'm

scared Sev," she whispered in a rush. She stared up at him. Her palms

were all sweaty and she didn't want to let go of his hand - it felt safe.

This was the moment they'd both been waiting for, constantly talking

about for two years, and now that it was here she was too terrified to

take the step towards the stool.

Severus's pale face stared back at her with a hint of a gentle smile

growing beneath his dark, sparkling eyes.

"Go on." he said, encouraging

her.

"You'll be brilliant."

"What if I trip on the way up to the stool?" she asked. She'd asked him

this at least a hundred times before, probably a hundred times a day

even, and she knew, even as she said the words exactly what he would

say in reply.

"Then I'll catch you," Severus said, "I'll always catch you, Lily."

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves with his words.

"But I won't have to," he said, "You'll be okay. I'll see you in a minute

at the Slytherin table!" Severus pulled her hand away from his and pushed her gently forward. Lily swallowed and turned, nervously climbing the steps to the stool and sat down gingerly upon it. Professor McGonagall smiled down at her,

"There you are, m'deary," she said, her Scottish accent lilting the words. Despite the harshness of her face, Professor McGonagall had a really kind smile and it was comforting, so Lily smiled back and McGonag all said, "Here comes the hat, dear," then dropped it onto her

head.

The last thing Lily saw before the hat covered her eyes was the

hopeful, eager look of anticipation on Severus's face

"'Interesting…..

." said a voice. Lily jumped in surprise. The hat hadn't been

talking aloud to anyone else. She panicked for a moment, wondering if

everyone could hear it. "No." the Hat replied.

"Only me and you.

Anything we say here is between us. No one else can hear us."

"Even me?" she whispered

"Even you," answered the Hat.

"You must use magic to create a soundproof barrier, then?" she

questioned.

"Yes. We're under a muffliato charm," the Hat explained. The Hat

chuckled in her ear,'

"Yes….. yes.… exactly. You are a smart one, aren't

you? Yes... yes I see, very smart indeed. Hmm... And a hard worker,

too. I see a lot of ambition, but not overdone…. Goodness, but you are

a powerful witch, you'll do amazing things - very amazing things.

Hmm."

"Are you looking at my brains?" Lily questioned.

'I am. Your driving forces, as well, looking at what makes you tick," the

Hat said. "You've got a lot of love in you. That's a mighty, ancient

power that many wizards don't understand the scope of. You're a rare

one, Lily Evans. Very rare indeed. Now... where to put you... You'd do marvelous in Ravenclaw, with such a quick wit and smarts..

Lily felt her stomach twist. "Please," she told the hat, "Let me be in Slytherin. I want to be with my friend Severus and he's going to be in Slytherin, his whole family's been. Please."

The hat chuckled again.

"Slytherin? You in Slytherin? Goodness me, no

that would never work. Didn't you listen to a moment of my song? A muggle-born in Slytherin… really.

"Please," she begged, "Sev needs me.

"Needs you?" the Hat said, You don't understand, you'd be eaten alive

in Slytherin…..

You wouldn't ever fit in."

Lily answered, "I can take it. It doesn't matter that I won't fit in. I need

to be with Severus. We're best friends, you see, and he oughtn't to be

alone. He needs a friend to talk to, and - and I can't just go off and be

in Ravenclaw without him! Don't you see? I'm willing to take on

whatever the Slytherins can chuck at me to stay with Sev."

The Hat was quiet for a moment. Something about how it felt made Lily

think that if Hats could smile then this one certainly would have done.

"Well, Lily Evans," said the Hat, "You've certainly convinced me.

Ravenclaw truly isn't the right house for you. You're right."

"So…. I'm off to Slytherin then?" Lily asked happily.

"Oh goodness no, I stand by what I said about Slytherin. You're far too

brave for Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw," the Hat said. At the word

"brave' a chasm split open in Lily's stomach. "Best to be

"No. no please, not

-" Lily began but before she could finish

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor McGonagall pulled the Hat off Lily's head and her hair fell

'round her shoulders and she sat there on the stool, utterly perplexed,

her palms on her thighs, blinking into the bright light of the Great Hall.

Though it was blurry, she could see the Gryffindors had all stood up and

begun cheering and punching the air with enthusiasm, but she could only clearly see the heartbroken, lost look on Severus's face. Gone was the excited gleam, that sparkle in his eye. His pale face just stared up at her, and his nostrils flared with emotion as he set his jaw and watched her get up from the stool rather numbly.

"Off you go," McGonagall said, shooing her towards the Gryffindor table,

"Right over that way, Miss. Evans, have a seat."

Lily nodded and started for the cheering Gryffindors, glancing back at Severus and trying to force a smile, but it was too hard and it faltered and she had to look away before she began to cry or something equally embarrassing "Gryffindor! All right!" Sirius was excitedly moving down to make Lily

some space.

She thought she would've rathered sit anvwhere at all than next to

Sirius Black. She left quite a bit of space between the two of them and

turned her back resolutely to stare at the front of the room as the

sorting continued. The next two Gryffindors were also boys - Remus

Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Remus slid into the space between Lily and

Sirius, heartily celebrating with his new friend from the trains, which Lily

was quite thankful for the buffer between herself and the boy she

couldn't stand. Peter, however, sat obnoxiously close to Lily and looked

her over appraisingly with his beady little eyes and rather large front

teeth before turning around dismissively. Lily felt immediately

uncomfortable with Peter Pettigrew, though she didn't know why, he

was just a twitchy, strange little boy with odd mannerisms. She inched

a bit closer to Remus, not that she was much more comfortable with

him, but he was certainly preferable to Peter or Sirius.

"Potter, James!"

Lily watched the other boy she couldn't stand swagger up to the stool

and sit down upon it with an air of assured confidence, his robes riding

up to reveal his maroon and gold trainers. He grinned and gave Sirius a

thumbs-up. But just before McGonagall dropped the hat upon him, his

eyes met Lily's and he grinned, a silly, wonky sort of grin, and he

winked at her, then disappeared beneath the Sorting Hat.

Lily felt her stomach flip over. She wondered what in Merlin's name had

made James Potter wink at her and what it had meant that he had. She

looked around and spotted Severus scowling in the crowd of still-waiting

first years, staring up at James Potter with a hateful glare that could've

curdled milk. She wondered if Severus had seen the wink, if he thought

her allegiances had changed so quickly. Surely he knew her better than that, she thought. But just in case, she made a very important mental note to tell him so as soon as she possibly could get a chance to. In fact - she thought, as Peter twitched and Sirius hissed 'come on, Gryffindor, say it hat' - she would go to the headmaster after the feast and tell him she'd been sorted into the wrong house. She looked up at Dumbledore and pictured the look of dismay and understanding that would cross over those wrinkled features. Of course he would immediately switch her to Slytherin and all would be well. "GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat had taken barelv a moment to choose and

James flung it off into McGonagall's hand rather quickly and rushed the

Gryffindor table, running up one side and back down the length of the

other, slapping high-fives to every outstretched palm on his way,

grinning as though he'd just won the Quidditch World Cup or something.

"Yes! YES! YES!" Sirius was yelling, jumping up onto his bench seat and

shouting, waving his hands in the air like a crazy person as James

hurried down to where they were sitting, out of breath, and hair messily

flung 'round his forehead.

When James reached her, Lily didn't extend her hand to return his high-

five and he slapped Peter Pettigrew's half-heartedly, standing before

her, their eyes locked. He grinned at her. "Push down," he said,

indicating he wanted the space next to her.

"What in the world makes you think that I would want you to sit next

to me?" she demanded, "You're such an assuming, arrogant little

' want to sit next to my friends," James interrupted, indicating Remus

and Sirius, who were turned to face them. Lily felt her face grow flush

and she scooted down. James leaned in. "Now who's the assuming,

arrogant one, ey?" He winked again.

Lily turned her back, and found herself face-to-twitchy-face with Peter

Pettigrew.

"You're the only girl," he said.

"What?" Lily looked around as Peter pointed down the table. There were

other girl Gryffindors, but as for new first years in the Gryffindor

house…. well, it was just Sirius, James, Remus, Peter and.. her.

"You're the only girl," Peter Pettigrew repeated

Lily turned to face forward, feeling stunned, just as the hat was shouting,

'SLYTHERIN!" She looked up and realized she'd missed seeing Severus Snape be sorted and he was already handing McGonagall the sorting hat back and heading over to the Slytherin table, where a tall, pale blonde haired boy with a shining badge pinned to his chest was standing up and welcoming him warmly to the table.

she had never felt so alone in her life.

chapter 10

"Snape, Severus!"

Severus looked over at Lily.

She was talking to James Potter.

A strange feeling swept through Severus, like his intestines were being

twisted like a balloon animal inside of him. He grit his teeth and balled

his fists and walked up the steps to the little stool, his heart

threatening to crack down the middle. A very sinister part of him

wanted to shock them all and be sorted Gryffindor - family tradition and

expectation be damned, at that moment all he wanted was an excuse

to go over to that table and take back Lily's attention.

He sat and Professor McGonagall dropped the hat upon his head. There

was no conversation, no debate, no hesitation on the part of the hat. It

landed, thought for about twelve seconds, and bellowed out it's

decision, "SLYTHERIN!"

Severus didn't even look over at the Gryffindor table as he climbed off

the stool and rushed down the steps. If she cared about him she'd have

been watching when he walked up the steps to begin with! He'd always

known, from day one, that there was a possibility of her being

swallowed up into one of the other houses - a possibility that was more

likely than not given that she was muggle born, but he'd been in denial.

He just hadn't ever wanted to imagine his life without Lily in it

everyday. Being in separate houses might as well have been different

planets. Especially Gryffindor and Slytherin! If she'd only been sorted to

Ravenclaw, it would've been a bit easier to mingle more often but it had to be the dead opposites, the greatest opponents of the whole

school. And she had to have been sorted into the same house as Sirius Black and James Potter.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Severus," Lucius Malfoy, one of Severus's cousins, said, greeting him with a firm handshake. "Mother said we might see the son of Eileen Prince come today." He held his chin level with the floor, staring down his angular cheekbones at Severus as he spoke. He waved a hand to the bench for Severus to sit down.

"Yeah," Severus nodded, "We heard you got Head Boy."

"Yes," Lucius reached up and polished his badge with the sleeve of his

robe.

"Luce," hissed a black haired boy beside Lucius, nudging him with his

elbow, "Did you get a load of Bilius Weasley's hair? What happened, he

stick his hand in an electric socket then?" The boy sniggered.

Lucius leaned to look around the head of the witch seated across from

him at a squat boy with flaming red hair at the Gryffindor table. His hair

was wildly sticking up in every direction and his old, second hand robes

were an odd color, not quite black and not quite brown, just something

in between. "Pathetic," Lucius murmured with a smirk.

"Isn't that your cousin next to him?" the other boy asked.

Lucius glared at Sirius Black. "Yes..." he murmured.

"Why's he in Gryffindor of all places?"

Lucius shrugged. "I haven't the faintest."

"He was talking big on the train," Severus spoke up, "With that Potter boy next to him, boasting how he wanted to be the one to break the tradition of the family being sorted to Slytherin."

Lucius snorted. "Figures."

"Who's that other kid with him over there? He looks familiar.

"That's Lyall Lupin's son," Lucius answered.

"I thought Lupin's kid died?"

"No, Mulciber," Lucius answered,

"Obviously. He's right there." He rolled

his eyes. "Well obviously I know that now, didn't think he was a ghost or nothin'! I'm just sayin' I ain't never seen Lupin's kid before. Have you?" Mulciber demanded. Lucius's voice was icy. "Why would I have?" he asked. "It's not as

though I go hanging about with blood traitors all the time. Falling in

love with a muggle woman." Lucius made a face, his upper lip bent into

a sneer as he watched Remus, James and Sirius goofing off with one

another across the hall, "Their son's a filthy mudblood. Look at him - he

just looks filthy and pathetic.

It was true. There was a scrawny, strange sort of look to him, as

though he were sickly or something. "Looks like he's ill or something,

Doesn't look like he'll make it through the term," snickered Mulciber.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll do him in," Lucius laughed.

"That's the

sort of filth that a Slytherin headmaster never would have let in. Even

in Armando Dippet's time the policy hadn't changed much from when

Phineas Nigellis was headmaster…. It's this newest headmaster Hogwarts

has gone and appointed. Albus Dumbledore." He rolled his eyes. "Three

years of the student body slowly turning to filth." Lucius shook his

head. "It's too bad Voldemort didn't get the teaching position he was

after - that would have revolutionized the school, for sure."

Severus made a face, "Who is Voldemort?" he asked.

Lucius turned around to face Severus, "The greatest Dark Wizard there

ever was." he said in a reverend voice. Up front of the hall, Albus

Dumbledore had gotten up and traversed to the front of the staff table

where a podium stood, but neither Lucius nor Severus turned to look.

Lucius's voice lowered. "He's so powerful, immortal they say - and he's

only getting stronger. Mother and Father were friends with him back in

school, and they're devoted followers of his, on his inner circle. He

trusts them. When he's taken power.. they'll be greatly rewarded. And

so shall I. I've already joined up for when I leave here in the Spring."

Lucius looked around and rolled up his robe's sleeve. On his left arm

was a crisp new tattoo of a skull with a winding snake coming from it's

mouth. The skin around the tattoo was rippled and Severus realized that

it wasn't there from inking it was burned into the skin, like a branding.

His stomach rolled because it seemed like it must've been a terribly painful thing to experience - being branded like that so powerfully that the mark would be so clear, so dark. Lucius rolled his sleeve back down.

"It's his way to communicate with his followers, see," he explained.

"The Dark Mark burns when he touches any of his followers marks and we

know then to apparate to him immediately." Lucius looked quite self

important. "Obviously, I'm exempted from responding, being as I'm in school."

Severus nodded because he wasn't sure what else to say.

Up at the front of the Hall, Dumbledore was clearing his throat.

Apparently Lucius and Severus were not the only two that hadn't

silenced at his arrival to the podium. Slowly, a hush went over the Great

Hall and most of the eves in the room were turned to Dumbledore.

Lucius had leaned over to talk to the witch across from him while

Mulciber turned to another rather large boy on his other side.

Severus looked across the hall at Lily. She was staring quite attentively

up at Dumbledore, her eyes wide with anticipation of what he would

say. Even the boys around her had stopped their horsing around to pay attention.

"Welcome to the start of term feast," Dumbledore said in a wobbly sort of voice. He smiled around at them, his palms stretched out to his sides. Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles reflected the students upturned faces. "I'm sure we are all very, very hungry, and so I will not prattle on just yet, but let the house elves present us with what is rumored to be one of their best works of culinary masterpieces… Kip, kip!" He clapped his hands and with a many pop-pop-pops, the tables were suddenly populated by a host of plates and mouthwatering foods.

Severus's eyes widened as he looked it over, his stomach felt full just looking at it. He looked up at Lucius. "Is this all for us?" he asked, astonished.

"Haven't you ever seen food before?" Lucius asked coldly. The girl across from him cackled.

Severus didn't bother to reply, he just started snatching food to hisplate hungrily. He took hold of a roll from one of the plates and split itopen and smelled it. The warmth of the bread was yeasty and buttery smelling and just the scent of it made him groan with pleasure. It had been ages since he'd had anything resembling warm bread, usually it was whatever his mother could conjure up and it wasn't very good. Usually the bread was hard and stale when they could get it. Severus took a bite and the fibers of it seemed to melt on his mouth. He closed his eyes in a sort of food ecstasy, then turned to the rest of his plate which was piled high with turkey and a pork chop and a potato lacket with all of the fixings and beans and snow peas in gravy. He eagerly began to devour the food as though he were afraid it would disappear.

"You know, Lucius," said the girl across from him, "Perhaps he hasn't seen food before." She pointed with her fork at Severus. Lucius looked over and snapped,

"Slow down. You look disgusting eating like that. Are you an animal, Severus?"

"No," Severus answered, stopping eating to mop off his face with a napkin beside him.

"Then please refrain from eating as though you are one," Lucius responded. "Anyway - as I was saying, Narcissa--

"' and Lucius launched back into a conversation with the witch about his experiences with the Dark Lord in a lowered voice Severus chewed slower on the pork chop as he watched Lily Evans again. She was picking at her potato jacket, staring down at it, looking so very out of place over at the Gryffindor table. Severus wished he could go over and talk to her, he hated seeing her alone like that, poking the potato's skin sadly with a fork. He glanced up at the old hat still sitting on it's stool at the front of the Hall and wondered why in the world it couldn't have just sent her to Slytherin and made all this quite a lot easier than it had turned out to be.

After they'd had their fill of the dinner foods they suddenly disappeared to be replaced by sweets of every kind. Mountains of magically unmelting ice creams and fondue with little cookies on tiny plates all around. Cakes and treacle tarts and pumpkin pasties and even a bowl of chocolate frogs. Severus grabbed several chocolate frogs and shoved them into his pockets for later, and ate at least two pieces of treacle tart before he couldn't put another bite into his mouth. He couldn't ever remember having felt as full as he did then. Dumbledore stood up once the clinking and clattering of flatware against plates had ceased and with another clap of his hands the food and plates were gone and the tables were bare. He walked up to the podium again and said, "Well, that certainly was everything that it has been built up to be - a generous thank you to the elves who prepared it." He smiled and applauded, though no elves were anywhere to be seen in the Great Hall. A couple of hesitant, confused sounding claps mimicked his around the tables. Dumbledore smiled, "Now, I just have a few words for you and then it'll be off to bed with you... First of all. must announce that our fine gamekeeper, Rubes Hagrid, has assisted our Herbology instructor, Professor Eureka Viridi, in obtaining a very unique addition to the greenery at Hogwarts. It is a tree that has been planted on the grounds called a Whomping Willow. Now, I am aware that trees are rather inviting and setting beneath one while doing your revisions is most delightful, but I must implore all of you to please give this Whomping Willow a respectful berth as the tree is young and quite violent and though Madam Pomfrey, our new maladies nurse in the ward, is most talented, the blows of the Whomping Willow are quite painful and the skele-gro potion is not a drink to aid in having a pleasurable evening." He smiled merrily about at them before continuing.

"Next, as always, the Forbidden Forest shall remain to live up to it's name as it is forbidden. Our caretaker, Argus Filch, has requested I inform everyone that his cat, Mrs. Norris, is not to be teased, kicked, or in anyway abused as she is still recovering from having her tail set on fire last term by a misaimed Filibuster Firework. Remember students, if you are to play with such things as Filibuster's Fireworks - which Mr. Filch has kindly requested time and again you do not - at least know the aguamenti charm to put them out once they have set fire to any of the Hogwarts property or, most especially, any students or creatures that may catch flame as well.

Last but not least, I do want to remind us all that we are one family of Hogwarts residents. These are questionable times politically, not that I wish to trouble any of you with the world that brews around us when you are so blissfully young and unaware of the way such things work. It is important, however, in such times, that the divisions between us be forgotten and the things which unite us become more important than ever before. We are all magical beings, with a past and a future and stories that weave throughout the very fabrics of time. Respect each other's stories." He smiled warmly. "Now… off to bed, the lot of you, it is very late and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day of falling asleep in warm classrooms. Goodnight!"