A/N Thanks to all who read the first chapter. I would loooove to see a review or twooooo if anyone feels so inclined ;) I'm not really sure how this story is going so far but I love writing it, soooo here we are! Again, it all belongs to JK Rowling!

Chapter 2

After some time I sat back up slowly, shaking slightly. The crickets and bullfrogs gradually began to resume their chorus around me; I hadn't even noticed that they'd stopped. My crying must have scared them off. I stared up at the crescent moon above me through puffy, swollen eyes, weighing my options. I knew I should go back, should be a grown-up and speak with my parents about what I'd heard, but I just couldn't. I was too overwhelmed.

And suddenly, not for the first time that night, I was scared completely out of my wits. The unmistakable sound of someone apparating broke through the stillness, silencing the crickets once more. Yelping loudly I pitched backwards off the swing, landing hard in the grass. I clumsily held my wand out, my legs still tangled in the swing. Great. If I was going to die, it was going to be with exactly zero percent of my dignity.

"Who's there?" I called sharply, struggling to remove my legs from the swing before jumping into a standing position. I squinted sharply, trying to make out the figure that was approaching. Fear began to take hold in the pit of my stomach as I began to think about everything I'd been seeing in the newspapers lately. Disappearances, murders...

"Potter?" A wary voice answered. The dark figure in front of me across the park lowered his wand and stepped forward.

"Black," I said with relief, and let my arm fall. My shoulders sagged slightly; I realized just then how completely exhausted I was. Suddenly the ground didn't seem so bad. But before I could make a fool of myself yet again, I sank weakly back into the swing. "What are you doing here?" I stared up at him, taking in his appearance for the first time as he stepped into the dim moonlight.

I certainly wasn't the only one with puffy eyes. Black - well, to put it frankly, looked horrible. And that was saying something. I hated the guy, but he really was fit.

He opened and closed his mouth, looking conflicted. I could tell by the way he swayed where he stood that he was drunk. Wait, maybe that was me swaying. I couldn't tell. At any rate, at least one of us was not sober.

To my surprise, he turned around and plopped himself down on the swing next to me. We both sat like this, wordlessly, for some time.

"It's been a fucking horrible night, Potter," Black finally spoke, his voice bitter.

"Tell me about it," I murmured.

Black looked at me sideways, tentatively. "I bet you ten galleons mine tops yours," he said, taking a swig from a bottle I hadn't noticed he was holding. He held it out to me. "Firewhisky?"

I stared at the bottle for a moment before wordlessly taking it, knocking back a swig. Honestly, what was there to lose at this point? I was already drunk, and things absolutely could not get worse. True, I did hate Black, but that suddenly seemed very insignificant in the overall scheme of things.

"I seriously doubt it. You're on, Black." The words came tumbling out of my mouth and before I knew it, I was having what was probably my first ever civil conversation with Sirius Black.

"So Gwyneth Jones, right?" Black began, turning his head to look me in the eye. His voice was slurred slightly, hand gestures big and exaggerated. "Love the bird. Absolutely love her. First love and all that. Right?" He looked at me as if waiting for confirmation. I nodded - Black always had a flavor of the week, but he and Gwyneth Jones always seemed to gravitate back to each other. "I mean, you get it. You and Diggory...you were together a long time. Any-anyway," he hiccuped. I made a face when he mentioned Amos's name, but he continued past it.

"Anyway," he repeated. "She graduated, last year. She's going to play for the Hollyhead Harpies. Guess what she told me tonight?" He broke eye contact with me, staring ahead as he downed another sip of Firewhisky. "Just guess."

"Erm...is she not going to play Quidditch anymore?" I asked, confused. Black barked out a short, harsh laugh.

"Well, probably not. Probably not because apparently, apparently, she's pregnant. With my baby." He shot to his feet, starting to pace and run his hand through his hair in an agitated sort of way. My stomach dropped to my toes at this news, eyebrows flying into my hairline.

"What - oh my god!" I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. "Actually? Wait - you got Gwyneth Jones pregnant?" Now Sirius's hands were over his face, rubbing hard.

"Yes," his voice answered me, muffled. "I don't know what to fucking do, Isa!" He stared at me with sudden intensity, his grey eyes burning into mind. I stared back at him, caught in his sudden spell. My muscles felt locked into place; I couldn't move.

But then I pictured Gwyneth Jones, fully pregnant, trying to get off the ground on her broom. And a grin broke across my face.

"What-what are you smiling at?" Black demanded, offended.

"I just-" I clamped my hands over my mouth, suppressing a giggle. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" I gasped, fully laughing. "Just - just imagine her trying to get her broom off the ground with a huge belly - Merlin, Black, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing!" I exclaimed, covering my face with my hands. When I put them down, however, Black was grinning sheepishly as he pushed off slightly on the swing. He was staring intensely at the ground, dragging his toes in the dirt.

Then, to my surprise, he let out a giggle.

"Imagine what Dumbledore would say," he snorted. "No - imagine Minny! D'you think she'd be jealous?" He began cracking up and leaned backwards slightly, which then proceeded to him falling directly from the swing onto his arse. This only made the both of us crack up harder, and before I knew it I was on the ground next to him.

"Oh, wow," I announced as our laughter finally died. I wiped a tear from my eye - the first one that night not of sadness. The grin slowly melted from my face as I remembered that I hadn't shared yet what had made my night horrible. And to be fair, Black had a really tough situation ahead of him, too.

When we were sober the next morning...well, we wouldn't be laughing anymore, either of us. "Black," I said gravely, meeting his eyes. I took in his long, messy black curls- his hair was so black it shone almost blue under the moonlight. His gray eyes, always dancing with mischief. I tried to imagine them on a baby. Gwyneth's baby. It was an odd thought. "What are you going to do?"

"I've no idea," he sighed, putting his head in his hands. "She doesn't know either. She's trying to decide wether or not to keep it. She asked my advice."

"What did you tell her?" I asked, my voice small. This felt so...private. This should be James, really, in my spot. In all honesty, I barely knew Black. But it wasn't as awkward as I'd thought it would be. Somehow, it worked.

"I told her it was up to her," he took a shaky breath. "But that if she kept it, I'd help her. It works out, I guess. The-the kid would be born right around when I graduate. So I wouldn't have to drop out of school. She wouldn't be able to play Quidditch, at least not this season, but I've got some money that I inherited. I could take care of them. This is my fault anyway."

"First of all, it's not all on you, Sirius. Don't think that for a second, it takes two to...er, well, you know. And second...for what it's worth, I think you'd be a good father," I told him earnestly, and to my surprise, I meant it. As immature and compulsive and over the top as he was, I did genuinely see the man he'd become peeking through sometimes. And he and James were thick as thieves - I trusted James's judgement more than I trusted anyone's.

I had a feeling that Sirius presented his worst side to the world as some sort of defense mechanism. He hid the best of himself away. I took a deep breath and the words kept tumbling out - blame it on the alcohol. So I told him my theory. "You can be immature and big-headed and downright volatile at times," I confided in him, and he looked at me with an bemused expression.

"Gee, thanks Isa, that makes me feel so much better!" He said sarcastically.

"I'm not done!" I protested, giving him a pointed look. He nodded and rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"I was saying," I continued. "You can be all of those things...but you're also good, Sirius. As much as I hate to admit it - and I do hate to admit it, trust me. And you will take this to the grave, because sober Isa would never say it out loud. But," I stared straight at him, locking my eyes into his. "Any kid would be lucky to have you as a dad. I see how you are with Remus. Er, with all the boys," I caught myself quickly. "You take care of them. You'd lay down your life for them, for the people you care about. And that's what makes a good father. Showing up - always being there for your kid." I got a weird sort of pang in my chest and quickly looked down, staring at the ground. "And you've got all of us. We're your family too, Black, all the Potters. Family isn't just biological."

"Thanks, Isa." Sirius's voice was a husky whisper. "It's just...hard, you know? One night I'm a regular bloke, I'm out with my friends, and suddenly now I'm going to be a teenage dad. My entire identity has changed over the course of one night."

I looked at him, startled, because I had had exactly that thought not long before.

"And now...I think I need you to distract me. I've got to stop thinking about it, at least until tomorrow morning. When I'm sober. Then I can deal with it."

"I think that's a good idea," my voice was soft. "There's nothing you can do about it tonight, you're just going to worry yourself sick."

"I agree." He was silent for another moment. "So, tell me...tell me what's made your night shit. I want to hear, so I can win my bet," Black smirked at me, and I grinned.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I shook my head slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Tell me," he insisted, sitting up a bit straighter. "I've got ten galleons on this, after all."

Smirking slightly, I launched into my story. I told him about Amos and Aimee, which was the very least of my worries now, though at the time it had felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and run over by a herd of hippogriffs. And I told him...hesitantly, at first, but then the words came tumbling out - about my parents. About Aunt Amalia, addicted to Felix Felicious, missing for the last seventeen years. And now, somehow, found - and in St. Mungo's.

"What the bloody hell," Sirius breathed, looking at me with round eyes. "And James doesn't know?"

"No," I whispered, horror dawning on me. What was I thinking? I had just confided in James's best friend. James didn't know now, but he surely would by morning. "Sirius," I whispered desperately, twisting until I was facing him completely. I leaned forward, trying to impart the severity of what I was about to say on him. "Please, please don't tell him," I begged. "My parents don't even know that I know. Please just let me tell him in my own time." My eyes searched his pleadingly; I was trying to see if he would give any indication of future indiscretion. But he looked fairly genuine - just shocked, if anything.

"I won't, I swear it," he said very solemnly. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it. So...who's your dad, then? Are you going to see you aunt - er, your mum - in the hospital?"

"I don't know," I muttered, rubbing my eyes hard. "To both of those questions. I have no idea who my dad is, and I have no idea if I'll see her in the hospital...she just left me, Sirius. For seventeen years. She was off doing god knows what." Anger bloomed in my chest. "She was addicted to that potion," I whispered. "So I know it wasn't her fault. But I'm still so, so angry."

"It's okay to be angry," Sirius spoke up. "Family is messy. But like you told me...it's not always biological. Your parents are the ones that picked you. They raised you, they love you. And we don't know the full story with Amalia yet. Maybe she didn't have any other choice. But either way, you still have two parents that love you to pieces, as they should," Sirius said firmly, and I was reminded suddenly that I was speaking to someone that did not have two parents that loved him.

We sat in companionable silence for a while, with no noise but the wind dancing through the leaves and the crickets singing out to one another.

"You know, you're not so bad, Isa," Sirius's voice was barely above a murmur. I wasn't looking at him, but I could feel his warmth against my right shoulder and arm; I was suddenly very aware of his close proximity to me, and the fact that if I even just relaxed my muscles my arm would be pressed against his. "Remind me again why we hate each other?"

"Well," I started, looking back at him, startling slightly at how close he was to me. "In first year you told everyone that I had dragon pox because I accidentally broke your broom, so no one would come near me for the first month of school. And after that...semantics, really. We've just never really gotten along. Oil and water, you know?"

"Oil and water," Sirius repeated, sounding slightly unsure. "So what is tonight, then? What is this?"

I thought on that for a moment. "A temporary truce," I decided finally. "A drunken, temporary truce. Because sober Sirius and sober Isa can't stand each other." My eyes flickered slightly, unconsciously, towards his lips. To my surprise, drunk Isa was having the sort of thoughts that sober Isa wouldn't be caught dead with. However I wasn't about to acknowledge them, even now, so I shoved them down. Sirius looked away, breaking the spell. He stared back into the path which I'd broken through earlier.

"We should go," he said somewhat abruptly, standing to his feet and brushing off his pants. I, too, rose up, though slightly unsteadily - I shot out my arm, and Sirius grabbed it quickly.

"Whoa there," he warned, steadying me. "See? Let's go. We need to get you home."

"Sure, okay." Looking at his face searchingly, I tried to make eye contact, but to no avail. After making sure I was steady, he quickly removed his hand from my arm, shoving his hands in his pockets. I had to nearly jog to catch up with him, all the way home.

"What's up with you, mardy-arse?" I asked finally, slightly out of breath as we reached the front doorstep.

"Hm? Oh, besides the fact I'm going to be a father?" Sirius replied shortly, and I narrowed my eyes.

"Merlin, I was just asking," I put my hands up, the universal sign of whoa there.

"Well, don't." Sirius whipped his wand out, muttering a spell that popped the door open, swinging silently to reveal the living room. "Oil and water, remember, Potter?"

The words stung slightly. Had I hurt him when I said that?

I followed him awkwardly up the stairs, only because my room was down the hall from his.

"Sirius," I tried one more time at a whisper. "I meant what I said tonight, you're going to be a good-"

"Just stop," he whipped around suddenly, turning back and towering over me. I shrunk back slightly, startled by his sudden intensity. "That drunken talk we had back there, Potter, that's all it was. A drunken talk. I have my friends, and you have yours. You said it yourself. Sober Sirius and Isa can't stand each other. So let's just...pretend this night didn't happen, yeah? I won't tell your secrets," he added quickly, seeing my mouth open and incorrectly interpreting what I was going to say. "And you don't tell mine. We're even, okay?"

And before I could reply, he turned on his heel and walked briskly down the rest of the hall, slipping into his bedroom without a look back.

As the door closed, I knew that whatever had transpired between us tonight was completely over, wouldn't be acknowledged, and certainly not repeated. The thought made me, surprisingly, rather sad.

I was certainly pissed off at his sudden rudeness, but not shocked. It was Sirius Black, after all. And tonight was an anomaly. Turning over our conversation in my head, I walked slowly over to my own bed. Lily was snoring away, completely oblivious to my entrance. I blew out the candle on the bedside table, plunging my room into darkness save the light of the moon shining in through the windows.

All that had happened tonight...I would deal with it in the morning.

Now, all I could do was sleep.