Chapter One
You could say that my story started when I was born. After all, that's when my life began, so logically, one would assume that my story began then as well. Well it didn't, at least, not really. The story that is worth telling only began when I started Hogwarts and met the greatest people in the world, a.k.a., my best friends. I could start this story then, on September 1, 1971, but that would be a really long novel full of stuff you probably already know. Plus, I just don't feel like writing about all of that. So aside from finding about Moony's "Furry Little Problem" as James liked to call it, forming the Marauders and joining the Quidditch team, nothing really happened those first three years at Hogwarts. With fourth year came James's obsession (and by obsession I mean OBSESSION) with Lily Evans and my first time getting laid. She was Meredith Blake and she was a 7th year Ravenclaw. It was bloody amazing!
But you already know about me and my womanizing ways. I know that it wasn't exactly mature, or nice… at all… but hell! I was young, available and fucking gorgeous; you've got to cut me some slack. Alright, I'm getting back to the point now. In fifth year, Lily and Snape had that fight and Remus became a Prefect. The summer before my sixth year is when my story really starts, and the summers following that first summer are crucial in this story as well, but the school years really aren't. You basically know what happens and what you won't know, I'll tell you. Save paper and all that (save me from hand-cramps more like!).
Anyways, you're probably wondering what's so special about the summer before my sixth year. Well, first off, that's the summer that I ran away from home (you'd understand if you knew my family) and moved in with the Potters. The Potters are great, they're like family to me; real family – ones that don't torture you for being in Gryffindor and not joining Voldemort. Stupid family….. But getting back to the point. That summer I moved in with the Potters, but it wasn't the Potters that made that summer so unbelievably brilliant! Not that I don't love the Potters, I really do. But that's the summer that I met Allie and nothing… I mean nothing… could have been better than that.
Alexandra (Allie) Elizabeth Howard. She was the Potter's muggle neighbor and that summer she would slowly but surely become my reason for living. The summer of 1976 was a summer filled with parties, Quidditch and James's "this is the year that Lily will fall for me" strategies. But most of all, that summer was filled with Allie. Every moment possible, I was with Allie. We did everything together; as Emily (Mrs. Potter) said "one could not be seen without the other, most of the time". And better yet, Allie was what one would call an "informed muggle", which made life a shit-load easier for me and James.
Anyone who knew me that summer said that I had never been happier. And yet, despite the greatness of those two months (more or less), there was a raincloud constantly hanging over our heads. Every week, the death count rose and more and more people were disappearing. Mr. and Mrs. Potter tried to keep things hidden from us "kids", but it's not like we were stupid! The Daily Prophet became our most valued reading material. Every afternoon, James, Allie and I would gather in the park near the two houses and read the paper together under the shade of a big tree. And every day, I ignored the fact that each passing hour brought me closer and closer to September 1st, and King's Cross Station.
The day before I left for my 6th year at Hogwarts, Allie and I broke up. She came to see James and I off, and then announced that she wanted me to be single while I was away at school. Had she heard about my womanizing? Did she somehow know the stories? I could say that I wasn't upset by her sudden refusal to be my girlfriend (notice the word I use here: 'girlfriend'; I, Sirius Black, had called a girl my girlfriend). I would be lying.
All through my sixth year, all I could think about was Allie. It was only ever "Allie this" and "Allie that" with my (according to my friends) and I was anxious to talk to her; to see her again. But she didn't respond to any of my letters and over the two holidays, she wasn't home. When the next summer rolled around, I was still maintaining hope that I would see Allie. Every day, I would go to her house and every day, she wasn't there. I left letters for her. I left flowers. I left a request with her mother that Allie was told of my daily visits. I was worried about her.
Despite my efforts though, still, there was nothing. No word from her, no sight of her… nothing. But I was determined not to give up. Never once did I stop thinking about her; Allie was plaguing my every thought. Never once did I consider moving on; Allie was my everything.
When I returned to school for my final year, I still had not seen Allie. I sent her letters and pictures and even ever-lasting roses from Hogwarts. I had stopped hooking up with girls. I had stopped talking to girls at all actually, except for Lily Evans (who turns out is very nice). In fact, people thought there was something wrong with me. And even though my hope was weaning, I was happy as I ever was because I had a feeling things were different, and that they had changed for the better.
By the time I graduated in June of 1978, James and Lily had fallen in love, Remus had snagged himself a job and a girl and Peter had managed to pass all his classes. And here I was – the notorious womanizer, Sirius Black – having not shagged a single girl since the summer before my sixth year. What was stranger was that I didn't mind. It had felt right. The only girl that meant anything to me was Allie Howard.
James and I returned to Potter Manor, which was my home now as much as it was James's, after graduation to give ourselves a few-days-worth of relaxation before the job-and-house-hunt began. And of course, we were both extremely excited to be seeing Allie for the first time in two years. The night before my graduation I had realized something that would change my life. I had finally come to terms with the fact that I had fallen head-over-heels for a girl. I, Sirius Black, was completely and totally in love with Allie Howard and I couldn't wait to tell her.
I never got that privilege.
Before my stuff had been fully dragged into the house, I ran next door to the Howard's. It was a Friday night, but Allie would be home. She had finally responded to one of my letters and I had made sure she would be there when we got home. Except she wasn't there. Her family was there, but they were in no mood for guests. The house was clean, but they couldn't entertain. As her younger brother Carson led me into the main room, a sense of dread I should have known to expect washed over me, filling me with a cold, desperate sadness that confused me.
My eyes roamed the room, taking the scene in slowly. In the love seat, Mrs. Howard sobbed silently, her hands covering her face. Mr. Howard stood by the window, staring out blankly as if he wasn't actually seeing the cheerful blue sky, or the birds flying from treetop to treetop. An unfamiliar relative – probably an Aunt – sat in an arm chair, a stunned look on her face and a baby in her lap. And in the middle of the room…. In the middle there was a box, and in that box was Allie.
A/N -- So what do you think? This was an idea that came to mind during some class at school (Algebra 2 probably....) and I figured I'd just see where it takes me. I'm looking foward to hearing comments or questions so let me know!!