Chapter 31 – The Letters

"I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

The words reverberated over and over again in Snape's head. He'd tried to apologize. He'd tried to prove to Lily that the terrible word had slipped out. He didn't see her that way.

He was humiliated. Beyond humiliated. Flashes of Potter – Lily – the jeering, sneering crowd. Strung up by his ankle…choking on soap bubbles…and completely, utterly helpless to the whim of Potter and Black.

After Potter's gang had scampered away, Snape had torn his wand from Avery and then fled the scene. In the solitude of the dungeons he began kicking and punching a Suit of Armor only to find himself pinned by it against the cold wall until his frustration and rage had dissipated. The Suit of Armor left him slumped and alone returning to its immobile form.

The quick anger was now displaced with despair, and Snape was suddenly overcome with a need to apologize to Lily. Snape had no concept of time as he trudged up the Grand Staircase. He was going into the lion's den both literally and figuratively, and that would show Lily his apology was true.

Snape stared at the Portrait of the Fat Lady with the realization that he had no idea how to get a message to Lily while she was inside the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Password?"

"I'm not in Gryffindor," Snape explained unnecessarily. The green lining his robes should have clued her in. "Um…I need to get a message to someone in there."

"I'm not a message carrier," the Fat Lady responded flatly. "Password?"

The door to the common room suddenly swung inward and a group of Gryffindors walked out chattering. He jumped back, startled. They glanced his way and he ignored the pitying look in their eyes.

He wished his voice didn't sound so desperate. "Is Lily Evans in there? Can you tell her I'm out here?"

The younger Gryffindors shook their heads continuing on their way. This happened to him several more times. He was sure at any moment one of the Gryffindors would report a Slytherin lurking by their common room and he'd be chased away. Instead he was left alone to pathetically wait and beg. If he wanted, he probably could have listened carefully enough to hear the password, but he knew entering the lion's den would be suicidal.

When the hall became more crowded, Snape stalked the halls and returned just in time to see Potter and Black enter into the common room. He was still so upset that he was unable to fully appreciate seeing the bandage on Potter's face; exactly where he'd hit him with the slicing spell. It was the first time he'd tried that curse on a fellow wizard, and while he was disappointed that Potter hadn't bled to death, the injury was a testament to Snape getting a win in despite all the odds stacked against him in the attack. He'd been right to leave…he couldn't imagine having to deal with them only hours after the humiliation. Still it was dark outside now and he was no closer to getting chance to speak to his best friend.

Then he saw his chance.

"McDonald! Mary!" Snape rushed over to the girl he recognized as Lily's friend. She recoiled as he got closer. "I need to speak to Lily."

McDonald eyes roamed the empty hall probably hoping someone would come to her rescue. "You shouldn't be hanging around here, Snape."

"I need to speak to Lily," he repeated.

"She doesn't want to talk to you."

"Please. Just tell her I'm out her. Tell her if she doesn't come down, I'll stay out here all night. I'll sleep out here if I have to!"

McDonald looked uncomfortable by his plea. Then she nodded her head. "I'll tell her."

It might have been minutes or maybe an hour before Lily Evans emerged from the portrait hole. She was wearing a dressing gown, her arms crossed protectively at her chest.

He felt a surge of hope. This was his chance to fix what had happened between them. But she hadn't come out to hear him out. Lily had already made her decision. She was there to tell him it was over. She was there to tell him she no longer considered him a friend.

He'd tried to explain. He tried to apologize, but he fumbled the words and she kept interrupting him – putting words in his mouth.

"—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth, Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

She'd left him alone with a contemptuous glare when he couldn't vocalize an answer. And how could he explain to those vivid green eyes what she meant to him?

Snape stood there in shock, and while he'd forgotten about the portrait, the Fat Lady made no attempt to hide that she'd been eavesdropping.

"Well you have your answer, boy. Get a move on. Go on."

He did not need to be told twice. He took refuge in the empty classroom Slughorn allowed him to use. He fell into a restless asleep on the desk; waking up with his heart pounding, disoriented. Then he remembered. A hot flush of shame mixed with anger washed over him. He stood up and then he knew he still had one weapon left.

Snape was going to Dumbledore. He was going to snitch on the Gryffindors, and he was going to demand the Headmaster expel Black and perhaps even Potter – or he would announce at breakfast that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Dumbledore could threaten to ruin his reputation all he wanted; it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

"Severus."

He was less than two steps from the Headmaster's office when he heard his name.

As Snape looked towards the voice, he was almost blinded by the rising sun streaming through the windows. Lestrange stood before him; the dawn sun hit the silver thread embroidered throughout his robes. He appeared royal-like; a true Prince of Slytherin. It was a sharp contrast to Snape's plain black second hand robes; the fabric always a bit rough and the hem a touch too short.

"Severus. Walk with me."

It was more an order than a request. Snape stood rooted to his spot torn between going ahead with alerting the Headmaster or following Lestrange. He knew if he did not knock on that door now, he'd lose the courage to give the ultimatum. But Lestrange was out in the corridor looking for him, and despite the tumultuous of emotions in his head, he was intrigued.

Snape stepped beside Lestrange, and as they began walking, the older boy said, "I know you are – distressed by the events of yesterday afternoon."

Almost immediately Snape felt his face flush with humiliation. Instead of bowing his head, he looked Lestrange straight in the eye. He had not been bested because he lacked in talent. He'd been accosted two on one. He'd been unfairly at a disadvantage. The Gryffindors had showed none of the chivalry they were famous for. Lestrange watched his reaction very carefully before continuing. "I have been filled in by Mulciber and Avery."

"Did they tell you how they stood and watched while Potter—" He did not finish his sentence as his outrage was now overcoming the initial mortification. He bet that Mulciber made it sound as if he was some savior coming to the rescue of the poor, defenseless half-blood.

"They felt you did not need an intervention with the Mudblood coming to your aide."

"I did not ask for her help," Snape said bitterly. "If you could even call it that."

Lestrange's smile offered little comfort. "She helped more than she realized." Lestrange stopped to place a hand on his shoulder, a manner that would have been reassuring if another person had done it. "I will be giving my full recommendation on your behalf to Lucius Malfoy and the Dark Lord. You've proven yourself and now you've cut ties with the pretty Mudblood, you can rise to your full potential."

He did not know how to react. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted? So why did he feel empty rather than satisfied? He'd convinced himself that he could both have Lily and the Death Eaters, and being wrong about that was not easy to admit.

"I expected you to be more pleased," Lestrange stated coldly.

"I didn't expect – I – I thank you for the recommendation." He stumbled over the words, but at least he managed to sound respectful.

"So Potter and Black?"

"I'll deal with them on my own." Snape did not expect his fellow Slytherins to help with his revenge.

"I'd prefer you didn't."

"I don't understand…"

"I don't want Potter and Black think they can attack anyone in our House without repercussions. I don't want you to think that we don't care about what they did. However, we must remember the bigger picture." Lestrange started walking again.

"The bigger picture?" Snape repeated because he knew that was expected of him. Though he already suspected where the conversation was going.

"The Dark Lord's vision for a new and better future for all wizards and witches. Purebloods like Potter and Black – those that do not value the old traditions and purity of blood - are a direct threat. The Dark Lord may be hesitant in being too heavy-handed against young blood traitors, but some of us have decided it is time to give them a warning."

"What does that have to do with me retaliating?"

"This warning must be about one thing and one thing only. I don't want any mixed messages. Do you understand?"

Snape felt his anger begin to bubble again. Potter and Black were going to get away with the attack because the Slytherins preferred to warn them about their traitorous actions towards their kind rather than the bullying? It was so absurd and unfair that he almost started laughing at the idea.

His thoughts must have shown on his face because Lestrange's eyes hardened. Snape wondered if he'd just made a mistake by not being immediately agreeable.

"Ok, Severus. I can see you need more of an assurance to get past this. You are to lead the group that will deliver the warning. Run your idea by me before putting into action. Mulciber and Avery will be there to assist you as needed."

Snape gave a curt nod. He had plenty of ideas, and he knew plenty of curses. And in agreeing to this he was aware he was choosing his path just as Lily had chosen hers.

James Potter was known for his confidence and self-assurance which was why he couldn't understand why several days after the incident by the lake he was still feeling off; a mixture of self-doubt and chagrin.

"Evans isn't wrong about Potter…"

"Rather date the Giant Squid – hilarious!"

"If Potter fancied me, I wouldn't say no…"

"Evans may be pretty, but honestly Potter could do better…"

The gossip followed James everywhere. No one was at all the interested in dwelling on the humiliation that Snape had suffered. Instead the chatter all focused on him and Lily, with Lily's tirade against his character as the central focus.

He could deal with her telling their entire year that she'd rather date the giant squid. She wasn't the first to call him vain and arrogant. It was her placing him in the same category as Snivellus that frustrated him the most. He was a better person than Snape. How could she not see that? He'd never use that word! He'd never look down at her for her Muggle background. He'd never join the Death Eaters!

He was annoyed with himself for feeling so out of sorts. He shouldn't have allowed his confidence to be so rattled because of one girl's low opinion of him.

James took a deep breath, hoping to calm the thoughts in his head. He thought back to when he'd first called out to Snape. He hadn't thought out his next move. With Sirius by his side he hadn't been too concerned about Snape inflicting any sort of damage. Snape had found himself vulnerable, alone, and James not being in a generous mood had taken advantage.

Had he hoped to draw Lily's attention? James had certainly noticed that she was one of the girls at the lake. He hadn't expected she'd come over to yell at him. They had gotten carried away. He could admit that without Lily's admonishment or Remus's quiet disapproval. However, it was an altercation that was going to happen. Their mutual antagonism with Snape had been slowly building back up again. If it hadn't happened that afternoon, it would have soon after. Snape had hardly come off as an innocent – drawing blood with the curse and calling Lily that word.

So far, they'd managed to get away without any reprimand. None of the students (including Snape and the other Slytherins) had snitched. If Professor Keenan had reported the use of Dark Magic, no official inquiry had been made.

The boys finished their last OWL exam in Transfiguration. It was James's best subject, and he'd found himself enjoying showing off his talent to the examiner. Peter was not so confident, and mournfully told them he'd almost transformed into a rat to prove he wasn't as hopeless in the subject as he appeared.

After exams were over, despite James's own inner turmoil, life returned quickly to normal. Poor Remus fell ill right after their last OWL. The symptoms of his severe cold were only worsened by the approaching full moon. James, Sirius, and Peter found him twice passed out in the dormitory, and he spent a full day on the Hospital Wing a day before transformation and three days after.

Luckily in terms of school work load, Remus wasn't missing anything. Their classes involved no information, instead it consisted of Professors giving them time to finish up papers or practice magic (as long as they didn't take advantage). Professor Keenan's lessons were once again the most popular as he allowed them to practice dueling during the post OWL classes. All the other years were in the middle of their end of year exams and were now staring enviously at their carefreeness.

It seemed to James that every time he started feeling more like himself, he was jolted back by the sight of visibly upset Lily Evans. She looked paled and tired. Her eyes were often red-rimmed as if she'd recently been crying.

James wanted to say something, but he was hesitant to approach her. In an uncharacteristic moment when he was visiting Remus alone in the Hospital Wing, he asked the werewolf his opinion.

"Let her be, James," Remus responded putting down the goblet of foul-tasting potion Madam Pomfrey was having him drink several times a day. "This isn't about you."

James colored slightly. Right, how could he forget?Snivellus had always been more important in her life than he'd ever been. Snape had been her friend while he was just her annoying, arrogant, house-mate.

"She hates me," James muttered under his breath. Remus looked ready to say something, but James never found out what it was because a second later they were joined by Sirius and Peter.

James's mind was still preoccupied with Lily Evans when Madam Pomfrey swept them out of the Hospital Wing shortly after the arrival of the full group. It was about an hour before dinner. Sirius and Peter were having a lively discussion about all the foods they were going to miss when school was out of session for the summer. James followed behind at a slower pace behind not joining in the conversation.

Later, he'd remember hearing something rolling behind him. If he'd been more alert, he might have turned quicker. Instead before he sensed trouble, thick black smoke was suddenly all around him. James tried to call out to Sirius and Peter, but he was overcome by an immediate fit of coughing.

The smoke was in his lungs.

It was stinging his eyes.

He stumbled forward, disoriented.

Then a large weight barreled into him, slamming him to the ground, knocking out the little air he had left in his lungs. His arms were wrenched behind him, a knee pressed down viciously on his lower back. He struggled against the person (or persons) holding him firmly against the ground. He could feel hot breath of the person bending right near his left ear.

"The Dark Lord sends his warmest regards, blood traitor," the voice hissed.

The pressure from the knee was released, and as James struggled to his knees, he was kicked in the stomach. James was able to bite back a groan only to start violently coughing. His throat was scratchy, parched, and he couldn't find the strength to speak just yet.

He heard muffled voices, hurried footsteps, and the air around him began to clear. As he stood up, James first could make out Peter. His friend was standing against the wall looking equally bewildered and terrified. Then he saw Sirius just now pushing himself to his knees. The thickest smoke was still lingering around Sirius and while James could breathe easier, Sirius was still coughing uncontrollable.

"Peter, help me," James commanded as moved toward Sirius. Peter faltered over and they helped Sirius to the other end of the hallway, sitting him down where the air was noticeable fresher and smoke free. Sirius's coughing eventually subsided, and the three boys began to discuss what had happened.

"No one knocked you down, Wormtail?" James queried after Sirius had confirmed he'd been attacked in a similar manner to James. Sirius had been held down and given the exact same greeting from Voldemort.

Peter shook his head. "No…I just backed up until I felt the wall…I couldn't really see anything…"

"Did you recognize any of them when they left?" James pressed.

"No," Peter said. "Well maybe…I thought I heard Snape's voice…"

"Snape?" James said with a frown. "Well I guess that makes sense…"

"Does it?" Sirius asked letting out a humorless laugh. "Snape's now delivering messages for Voldemort? This had nothing to do with him at all."

"I'm a pure blood too," Peter responded quietly. "I wasn't attacked."

Sirius gave a contemptuous snort. "Sorry, Pete, you can't trace the blood line far back enough to be considered worthy of attention."

Peter's face turned red and Sirius perhaps realizing his statement had been a bit callous insisted, "I envy you! I wish I didn't have to deal with all this blood nonsense."

Despite being a bit strong headed and rebellious, Sirius had entered Hogwarts with a belief that being a Black and being part of the Sacred 28 made him both special and better. He'd learned over time that his parents' doctrine was filled with lies, but it had taken time. James remembered that Sirius had parroted many ideas that he now scorned, and when his best mate made statements like the above, he saw an echo of the person he could have grown into.

"If they think that's enough to scare us over to their side, they've got a lot to learn," James remarked trying to ease the tension and keep it light.

Peter bit his lip nervously, looking worried. "You need to be more careful."

"This isn't any different than what I've been dealing with since I ran away," Sirius said dismissively. Then he appeared to have the same realization as James as he spoke those words. This was different. For one, they were no longer generic blood traitors. This time they were being specifically called out as enemies to Voldemort's pureblood movement. And they'd gone after James in the attack. Previously James had only been targeted for his Gryffindor-ness, his Quidditch prowess, and his sense of entitlement.

"And you were badly hurt twice, Sirius," Peter reminded them, referring to the cursed school bag and the previous attack led by Lestrange. "And now you aren't the only one getting hurt." Peter glanced at James to show his point.

Sirius glared angrily. "What am I supposed to do? Join up with them?"

"I don't know," Peter admitted after a moment. "They'd leave you alone if you weren't a threat."

"Like you," Sirius countered.

"I was always going to be target," James cut in finally. "I want to fight. You do have a point though, Wormtail. We should be more cautious. We've let our guard down, and that's unacceptable."

Sirius pushed himself to his feet and a sudden bought of coughing overcame him once again.

"Do you need water? Fresh air?"

"Fresh air."

"I have a juice box…" Peter said rummaging through his bag, and finally holding out a box of apple juice.

James took it from Peter, popped in the straw, and handed it to Sirius. "Drink up. It should help until we go outside."

By the irritated look on his face James suspected Sirius was thinking 'yes mum', but the cough was making it too difficult for him to talk. Sirius sipped the drink carefully until the coughing subsided.

Sirius cleared this throat, and in an oddly formal voice said, "Thanks for the juice."

Peter beamed. "No problem."

As the boys began their way out to the courtyard, James felt relieved the air had been cleared in more ways than one.

"Have a seat, Mr. Black."

How many times had Sirius heard those words from Professor McGonagall? More times than he could count.

Today was very different. Today his stomach was full on knots for an alternate reason. Today he'd find out how petty his family truly was.

McGonagall's desk was unusually clear with the stack of papers moved to the side, and only a small box placed in front of her. Her office overlooked the Quidditch Pitch, and the windows were opened slightly to let fresh air into the room.

"Your parents have written Professor Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall began without preamble. Sirius gave her a curt nod. This was another way to exert control over him from afar; forcing him to hear his fate second hand. They could have written him directly. Instead his mother who was always so against others being involved in family matters was needlessly involving the Headmaster and Sirius's Head of House. "They are giving you permission to stay with the Potters over the summer."

Sirius stared at her flabbergasted. It was impossible that he'd heard correctly. "Sorry?"

McGonagall looked at him carefully. "It's good news, Mr. Black. You may spend the summer with the Potters."

It should have been instant relief. He should have been jumping up in excitement. He knew he couldn't celebrate just yet. "Under what conditions?"

Professor McGonagall gave him a tight smile. She then pushed the box sitting conspicuously on her desk towards him. "There are several letters in there. The only condition of your stay is that you read them."

"Read letters?" Sirius asked. It sounded like some sort of trick. He eyed the container with trepidation.

"Professor Flitwick, Professor Keenan, and myself have all checked the box and the contents inside for any hexes or curses. It is safe for you to open and read."

Sirius knew his only choice was to accept the box. So, he opened it up to find several letters inside all old, yellow, and brittle.

"Am I supposed to read them now?"

"Merlin's beard, boy, aren't you supposed to be intelligent?"

Sirius groaned inwardly. He recognized that voice all too well. He turned warily to the right to see his great-great-grandfather Phineas Nigellus. He looked completely out of place standing in a painting of a spring flowers.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius muttered.

"I see being disowned has not improved your attitude at all," Phineas said with contempt. "I have been given the highly unpleasant task of ensuring that the letters deliver their proper message. Now if it were up to me I'd send you to-"

"That's enough," McGonagall interrupted. "I recall your promise to Dumbledore to be a silent observer."

Phineas glared unpleasantly at McGonagall, though he quieted down.

"Mr. Black, I will give you some privacy." She glanced over at Phineas with a stern expression. "I will return shortly."

Sirius took a deep breath as he unfolded the first letter. He still half expected the page to come to life and attack him. He opened the first letter, and the author was quickly apparent; Iola Black. A fellow relative, Phineas' own sister that had been blasted off the Family Tree for marrying a Muggle.

The first letter started with Iola describing her new life with the Muggles. She was settling in, and while she suspected her mother had placed a curse on her so that she'd be unable to bear children, she was quite sure the strength of their love would overcome it.

A year or two passed before Iola had written the second letter. She sounded still satisfied with the life she had chosen, but she was childless. It was easy to infer from her language that her in-laws were displeased with the lack of heirs. At the very end of the letter, Iola politely requested her mother to undo the curse.

More time had passed, and the tone of the third letter was noticeably different from all the others. Iola was now a widow, her husband dead from a tragic accident. She had unfortunately failed to have any children before his untimely death. Her husband's parents, still in mourning treated her poorly, and for the first time it sounded as if she regretted her decision to abandon the family.

The fourth letter was written in desperation. There was no longer any pretense. Iola stated that she'd made a terrible mistake and admitted her parents had been right all along. She wrote how all Muggles were uncivilized and ill-mannered. She was distraught, afraid, isolated and begged to be forgiven.

The last and fifth letter was sent only a month later. Iola's misery was evident in every word. She made it clear she'd do whatever the family wanted – including murder – to be welcomed back. In the last sentence she promised she would make the family proud.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment. Then he placed the letters back in the box. He shouldn't have cared about the fate of a distant relative, but he found himself needing to know. "What happened to her?"

"Stupid, foolish girl," Phineas said with a shake of his head. "My father found her frozen to death Christmas morning in the family garden."

"She didn't knock?"

"We heard someone at that door that evening. My father sent the house-elf to deal with it, and that was that." Phineas let out a dramatic sigh. "I know what you are thinking, but it wouldn't have mattered. She'd have been turned away even if one of us had answered it. She was weak. A proper witch would have conjured a fire. A proper pureblood would always carry her wand. My other sister found a bloody knife in her knapsack. Turned out she murdered those Muggles before heading our way. She didn't use her wand for that either. Tragically, she failed to grasp that her disownment was permanent."

"Is this the family's way of telling me the same thing? Because I don't recall asking to be let back in."

"Iola didn't either. Not right away. The world is a lonely, desolate place without family."

"Thanks for the concern," Sirius said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "If you handed me a time turner this instant, I would still run away!"

"Such bravado!" Phineas mocked. "The world outside of Hogwarts is cruel, and-"

Professor McGonagall reentered her office. Sirius was grateful that her very presence cut off further uninvited advice from his great, great grandfather.

"I read them," Sirius told her shortly, getting to his feet. "I'm not expected to keep these, am I?" He looked between McGonagall and Phineas.

"No, I'll owl these back," McGonagall answered him curtly. "Phineas it's time to go." He snorted before disappearing out of the painting. "Please take a seat for a moment, Mr. Black."

Annoyed, he turned, crossing his arms. "I'd rather go, Professor," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'd rather not have you stalking the halls in a sour mood." McGonagall took a seat and then from a drawer in her desk took out her ornate silver tin, offering it to him. "Have a biscuit. I insist."

Sirius sighed deeply before sitting and taking a biscuit. He took a large bite to appease her. If she thought they were going to have a heart to heart about those letters, she was mistaken. "If you want to know what is in those letters, you could just read them."

"I have no interest in them. The contents in those letters are between you and your family. I am here to offer you support."

"I'm fine. I promise I won't hex anyone."

"A promise you have never been able to keep." Then her voice changed to a gentler tone. "I would encourage you to speak to someone…one of your friends…Professor Keenan…"

"Understood. Can I go, Professor?"

"Yes."

Sirius was out the door before McGonagall could dispel any more wisdom. Professor Keenan had been involved in his family drama enough. He liked Professor Keenan. He might even admit that he was his favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but that's where it ended. Asking Keenan for help with information on Homonculous Charm had been a one-time thing.

Sirius indeed stalked the hallways as McGonagall feared, but he refrained from hexing anyone. He found James in the covered courtyard with his broom slung over his shoulder staring forlornly into the rain.

"Not exactly flying weather, mate."

"I'm hoping it clears up soon." James turned so his back was facing the outside, and leaned his broom against a pillar. "So? Do we need to start planning how to smuggle you out of Hogwarts?"

Sirius smiled genuinely for the first time since getting the news. "No. They gave me permission."

"Are you serious?"

"Always, mate," Sirius said as they both laughed. Sirius hadn't realized how tense and nervous he'd been until now. It was as if a weight had been lifted off; even breathing felt easier.

"Why'd they wait so bloody long to give you an answer?"

"To keep me on edge?" Sirius shrugged. "Prove once again I'm not completely free of them? It could have been worse…all I had to do was read some letters in exchange."

"What letters?"

"Letters from an ancestor who'd been blasted off the Family Tree several generations ago for abandoning the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. In her letters she eventually regretted her choice, begged to be reinstated, and died because of it."

"That's…horrible."

"Yea." Sirius shrugged again. "But I'm not her! I know I made the right choice."

James nodded quietly, before he smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"And go out on the pitch in the rain? Umm…no thanks."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind…How about Hogsmeade?"

"Hogsmeade?"

"We haven't snuck out in ages!"

Sirius wanted to remind him that it was because he was on probation and flouting that school rule might just lead him to expulsion. Instead he said, "Schools over in less than a week."

"My parents aren't going to let us go out for butterbeers any time we want. We'll have to ask for permission, and they might even insist on joining us."

James didn't have to add that it was always more fun when there was risk involved.

"Are we inviting Remus and Peter?"

"Remus has that Prefect party. We can be back before he knows we're gone."

"And Peter?"

"Peter's feeling under the weather. He was fast asleep in the dormitory last I saw him. We can wake him up if you want?"

"And when he asks where we were?"

"The truth. He's sick. He shouldn't be sneaking out in the rain. What do you say?"

Sirius pondered the suggestion for several minutes. A butterbeer in Hogsmeade was harmless, wasn't it? They probably wouldn't get caught, but just thinking about the possible repercussions if the worst happened made him cringe inwardly. James was aware of the risk, and that's why if he'd wanted, Sirius could have talked James out of it.

Something stopped him. After the year they'd been through…after all that James had done for him and was doing for him by offering his home for the summer, how could he refuse? James had not been himself since the whole ordeal by the lake with Lily Evans and Snape, uncharacteristic bouts of melancholy plaguing him. If bit of rule breaking was what was needed to snap James out of this mood then Sirius wasn't going to stand in the way.

"Ok. As long as we are back before dinner." That should minimize any chance of their absence being noticed.

They stopped in the dormitory to get their rain-repellant cloaks. James decided to leave his Invisibility Cloak in the dormitory for Peter to use if he needed to sneak to the kitchens.

Despite the inclement weather, Three Broomsticks was busy. It was a good thing as they'd stand out less in a crowded setting. While the staff working in the shops and bars did not snitch on students, (it was a policy that was bad for business), there was always a chance a bystander would. Sirius certainly knew if one of his many extended family members spotted him, Dumbledore would immediately be alerted. Luckily the Three Broomsticks was free of any Blacks.

Madam Rosmerta was not working the shift. None of the other servers were as funny and friendly as her, but service was always decent. The boys joked and brainstormed about their plans for the summer. It took some time, but by their second round of butterbeers Sirius felt truly relaxed. He was starting to realize he needed this outing as much as James.

When Sirius noticed a wizard approaching them, he thought it was one of the servers checking to see if they needed anything.

"Lovely afternoon for a drink, wouldn't you say?"

The familiarity of the voice caused Sirius and James turned towards it simultaneously.

Professor Keenan towered over them, his expression unamused and cold.

A feeling of icy dread washed over Sirius.

Fuck.

Author's note: Uh-oh…our favorite duo is in trouble. So, this update took longer than expected because every scene in this chapter was difficult to write, lol.

A thanks to all my readers – old and new. And please let me know what you think with a review!