A/N at end

A minor relapse

The sun has almost set by the time we reach Denwood House, and my bare feet are tired and aching, not to mention I'm feeling pretty gross - with everything that's happened since my talk with Dumbledore, bathing hasn't been high on my list of priorities. Ew. We've reached the main staircase, and Sirius opens the door to the room he was in before, frowning slightly when he realises I'm not following him.

"I'm just uh…going to freshen up…" I explain awkwardly, gesturing upstairs. Sirius gives me a hard look, but then apparently decides that I'm not lying and that there will not be any more escape attempts tonight, and continues into the room. I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding and, rolling my eyes at the current police state, make my way up to my landing.

I fill the large bathtub to the brim and lounge back in the slightly scalding water, my thoughts drifting back to what Sirius said by the lake. What could he have done to make his mother disown him? I'm struggling to imagine situations that would warrant such extreme action. Maybe he killed his father? I think of Sirius walking beside me back to the house, loping along at an easy pace with his hands jammed into his pockets and his gaze straight ahead, and shake my head. Harsh and insensitive though he might be, he's not a murderer. At least I hope not. I have a slightly over-active imagination.

I throw on some pyjamas and a big sweater, deciding to leave my hair dripping down my back in an effort to make it dry faster. There's a lot of it, though, so it will probably still take a few hours. As I'm about to go downstairs I notice Sirius' leather jacket is still in my room, thrown haphazardly on the floor by the armoire. There's no rational reason for it, but I'm kind of reluctant to give it back. That's stupid Analeigh, you've got your own clothes now, I reprimand myself, and grab it as I head downstairs. There's no rational reason.

The door to the room by the staircase is wide open, so he sees me as soon as I reach the hallway, and I enter the room somewhat tentatively. It looks like it used to be some sort of formal living room crossed with a library. The fireplace is decorated with an ornate mantlepiece, and the walls are almost completely lined with antique bookshelves crammed full of books. There's a rail that runs along the tops of the bookshelves and a ladder that slides along it to help reach the highest books. Sirius has draped himself the length of one of the two squashy couches that, along with an armchair, form a cosy semi-circle around the fireplace. He regards me from upside down as his head hangs over the back of the armrest. I hesitate just inside the doorway, and he raises his arms as if to say 'come in already'. I step forward, holding out his jacket to him.

"Sorry I kept this for so long…forgot I had it." He rights himself on the couch, and leans forward to grab it. "Thanks for letting me use it." I add, suddenly remembering my manners. He smiles slightly, and it's actually more genuine than a smirk. He lounges back again, draping his arms around the back of the couch, and I see a plate of biscuits on a coffee table. He reaches for one and says "Help yourself" so I do, and retreat to the armchair.

The sound of an old grandfather clock at the end of the room seems to echo in the quiet. I'm wondering if 'I'm sorry that I slapped you but you were kind of a jerk' is an appropriate way of starting conversation when Sirius actually breaks the silence.

"So your Dad works for the muggle government?"

My head snaps round to look at him. That's kind of out of the blue. He's frowning slightly, like he's trying to put together pieces of a puzzle. I curl up on the armchair as I contemplate my response.

"Yeah, he's a politician, part of the Prime Minister's cabinet."

"He's English, then?"

"Mmhm. My mother's from South Carolina though, in the States. I was born there, but we moved to London when I was pretty young."

He regards me for a second through half-closed eyelids, then smiles slightly. "You've still got a bit of the accent though."

"Apparently it's quite hard to lose" I can't help but smile a bit in return. "Are you English?"

His eyes narrow slightly, and the smile disappears.

"Yup. Though I think there might be some French in there originally. The 'noble and most ancient house of Black'" His voice drips with sarcasm. "One of the oldest wizarding families in Britain." He snorts, sitting up suddenly and resting his elbows on his knees. "As if that makes any difference. The whole establishment is ridiculous."

I'm looking at him rather blankly, trying to make sense of it as he stares off into the fireplace, obviously lost in thought. So he must be what Dumbledore called a 'pure blood' wizard. But he's not on Voldemort's side. What side is his family on? Come on Analeigh, the world's not black and white. I can't really get my thoughts straight in my head – it's like I'm trying to read a book when I only know half of the alphabet.

"Could you…" I start, snapping Sirius out of his daze. "Could you maybe…explain some of the basics of your...society...to me? I just feel like I don't understand anything and - it would really help me with...adjusting."

His eyes are roaming my face and he's got that puzzle-solving look again and I'm starting to feel self-conscious.

"I would, but I don't really know where to start," he says somewhat wistfully. "But – there's something that might help…"

He rises to his feet and starts scanning the bookshelves that line the walls. I go over to join him, inspecting the titles on the spines as I go. There's a lot of weird stuff there – things like "Merpeople: A Comprehensive Guide to Their Language and Customs" and "Flesh-Eating Trees of the World", not to mention "The Hairy Heart – A Guide to Wizards Who Won't Commit". Guess there's some problems even magic won't solve. My eye is drawn to a large black volume, with ornate silver writing on the spine - "Songs of the Darkeste Evile". I move to grab it, but Sirius suddenly reaches out and bats my hand away. He gives me a level stare.

"I wouldn't – that one screams."

Raising my eyebrows, I let my hand fall to my side. So even their books are dangerous. This wizarding world is seeming more and more hazardous every day. Sirius seems to find what he was looking for, and rolls the ladder along the shelves to where he was standing. He climbs to the top and hands down a large silvery grey volume to me. There's a diamond-shaped pattern on its cover and swirly faded writing that says: "A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot". Do they all have such weird names? Sirius jumps down the last few rungs of the ladder, and pats the cover of the book with his hand.

"That should tell you pretty much everything you need to know – have a browse through it, then ask if you still have questions"

"Thanks" I reply, heaving the book into a better grip in my arms. He shrugs.

"It was required text for us in school, but I never listened in that class – it's insanely boring. You probably won't make it past the second chapter." He smirks at me.

I shoot him a glare. "And how far did you get?"

"Stopped after chapter one," he replies candidly. His grey eyes aren't cold anymore, but dancing in amusement. I swear this boy has mood swings.

"Well not all of us have the attention span of a flea," I say, sounding just a little snooty.

"Hey, fleas are serious business – total nightmare to live with."

I give him an incredulous look, but don't reply. Ew, how does he even know?

It's only later that night, as I crawl into bed, that I realise that the two of us just voluntarily spent time together. I curled up on the armchair with the book, and Sirius went back to lounging on the sofa. I think he even started dozing. Neither of us said anything, apart from the occasional question from me ("What's a Fwooper?") but the silence was comfortable, and he almost seemed surprised when I declared I was going to bed. I'm not sure why - it's not like I was thrilling company or anything. Maybe he just doesn't like being left in his own company? Or he thinks I'll try to escape again. I realise that I'm probably really over-thinking things and, pushing the whole situation to the back of my mind, I roll over and fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning to a quiet house, which is not totally unexpected. Looking down on the drive from my small bathroom window, however, I am not surprised to see a car rather than a motorcycle sitting in the drive. It looks a lot like the one Sirius used to drive me here. I'm slowly getting used to the idea that there'll always be someone guarding the house, but that doesn't mean I have to be around them the whole time. After scrounging around for some cereal in the kitchen and noting the sun streaming through the windows, I grab Ms Bagshot's tome and wander into the back garden to sunbathe.

Lying basking on the summer grass, I flip lazily through the pages of A History of Magic, my mind only half engaged. There's a dreamy atmosphere in the garden, and the weather is perfect - hot sun with a cool breeze. I'm determined to make it to at least chapter 3, but am interrupted by a slight rustling in one of the overgrown bramble bushes. I freeze, the memories of the growling I heard yesterday still fresh in my mind. But my alarm is unwarranted, as from the bushes slinks a slightly scrawny calico cat. It looks half-wild, with shifty green eyes and slightly matted fur. Its tail is extremely long, at least the full length of its body. The cat saunters towards me, looking as lazy as I feel and yawning as it goes, and starts to nuzzle the corners of my book.

"Well hello there," I say, somewhat amused. I've always loved animals, though my parents never allowed me one. I extend my hand towards it, and its nuzzling switches from the book to my fingers.

"Please tell me you're a normal cat, and not some weird wizard-y creature that actually spits fire or something," I'm only half-joking.

The cat stares at me, but doesn't seem to spit fire or reveal any hidden talents, so I scratch it behind the ear. It flops to the ground and I stroke its belly, feeling it purring softly against my fingers. I try to get it to chase a twig that's nearby, but it just ignores me so I stop.

"Noodle. You can be called Noodle," I declare imperiously, and I flop down next to the cat to continue reading Bathilda Bagshot, who is now telling the fascinating story of Uric the Oddball, who owned fifty pet Augureys.

And this is how Lily finds me when she emerges from the house not an hour later carrying a glass of what looks like lemonade. She comes over just as I'm reading about the founding of Hogwarts by some more people with very weird names, and takes a seat next to me. I smile tentatively at her. I'm not sure whether Sirius told her about my escape attempt last night - if he has, then this is kind of embarrassing.

"Looks like you've made a friend," she says, smiling back and reaching out a hand for Noodle to sniff. I shrug.

"Just keeping each other company, I guess. Thanks," I say, as she hands me the glass. "So is it just you here?"

"Sirius left late last night, just as James and I arrived…" She seems to pause, as if wondering whether she ought to say something. In the bright sunlight I notice something glint on her left hand - it's an engagement ring. Wow, do wizards usually get married so young? Feeling a little stupid for not having noticed it sooner, I blurt out,

"Congratulations! When's the wedding?"

Lily blushes prettily and grins. "Soon, I think! We're thinking mid-July…" she trails off. "Actually, a couple of James' friends are apparating into Kendal today to come to Denwood House, but they need to be picked up – you know how the security requires muggle transport – and we were wondering if you wanted to come with us for tea in town?"

She says all this very quickly, and I must look pretty surprised because she continues, "It's just for a couple of hours I think, you'll be perfectly safe – there'll be 5 of us with you because Sirius is joining us a bit later - and it'll give you a chance to see some of Kendal? If you don't want to, no worries, we can just stay here and sunbathe, James can go pick them up and – "

"Really, that's fine, I'd love to" I interrupt her mid-flow, and she beams at me instantly.

"That's great!" She almost hops to her feet, and I follow her inside. I'm starting to burn anyway. Noodle seems to have disappeared, but I'm not too bothered. Cats like to come and go as they please. James is waiting for us in the hallway, and grins when he sees me.

"Ah you're coming then? Excellent." I'm not sure whether he actually really wants me along, or just doesn't want to leave his fiancé behind to watch me, but either way it's nice to be included.

I run upstairs to change quickly into something a little nicer than the ratty old shorts I was sunbathing in. I decide on a bright sundress with a sweetheart neckline and lemons printed all over it, and some matching flats. I fluff my hair and put on some mascara quickly as I pass the mirror. Never go out looking like a train wreck, Analeigh, my mother used to say. You never know who you'll run in to. I guess old habits die hard, and I can't resist pinching my cheeks to get some colour in them before rushing downstairs.

The drive into Kendal passes far more peacefully than my previous journey in the other direction. For one thing, neither of my current companions are being surly or refusing to answer questions. The driving is equally appalling though. Lily is driving this time because, as James informed me, both her parents are muggles, and they thought it was important she learn how to drive.

"I still think it's a stupid way to get around," he also adds.

"Just because you failed your test twice, James, does not mean that it's stupid," Lily retorts cheerily.

I grin in spite of myself, and decide not to mention that Lily's driving is almost as bad as Sirius' - though at least Lily sticks to the speed limits. Despite the shuddering that accompanies every gear change, with the windows rolled down and the sun shining brilliantly, I feel the weight of the past few days lift a little.

We arrive in Kendal and park on a small street that's bustling with mid-day pedestrian traffic.

"We always go to Farrer's when we come here," says Lily as we get out of the car and begin making our way slowly down the road.

"Yeah, it's actually not a bad place…I mean, for a muggle shop" adds James, and Lily shoots him a sceptical look. James laughs and throws an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The building we arrive at looks charmingly out-of-place – its Victorian-style front sandwiched between the average, more modern shops that make up the rest of the street. While the buildings around it are the typical unremarkable beige, Farrer's is bright white. The lower level and wooden beams surrounding the windows and door have been painted dark brown, and its name shines cheerfully in bright gold letters over the quaint windows – Farrer's Tea and Coffee – Merchants and Suppliers. If Lily hadn't already told me it was a muggle place, I would swear it had a touch of magic to it. Maybe that's why my wizarding companions like it so much.

We go in and take a seat at one of the rickety tables by the front windows. Behind the till counter stretch rows and rows of tin boxes of tea and coffee, glinting in the low light. There's a huge selection – different bean types and blends from all over the world, and I can't help but let my jaw drop a little. It feels like so long since I had coffee, and I quickly choose some random exotic-sounding blend from the menu when the waitress comes to take our order.

"I don't understand Muggles' love for coffee," says James, as I sip my drink when our order arrives. "Nasty bitter stuff if you ask me"

"It's an acquired taste," I reply, smiling. For the longest time I only liked the smell of coffee, but hated the taste. It grew on me as I got older.

"Ah, here they are!" exclaims Lily, and James jumps out of his seat, smiling at some point behind me. I turn, and see two boys around my age coming towards us.

"Prongs," says the one at the front, with a tired grin and a nod, as James claps him on the back. What an odd nickname, I think, remembering Sirius calling James the same thing. Turning to me, the young man extends his hand in greeting.

"I'm Remus Lupin," he says genially. "Sorry about – well, everything…how are you settling in?"

He's about my height, and as I shake his hand I notice the faint shimmer of silver scar tissue on his arm and cheek. His brown hair falls unkempt around his face, but not in the it's-messy-on-purpose kind of way that James' is. However, despite the general fatigued look about him, his eyes are calm and kind, and I reply with "Not too badly, thanks" as he takes a seat next to me. I turn to face Lily, and find her talking to the second guy who came in. He's small and round, with large watery blue eyes that keep glancing towards James and Remus.

"Oh, and this is Peter Pettigrew," says Lily, and I shake hands with him as well.

He's looking at me like he's slightly afraid and it's making me uncomfortable, so I say "Nice to meet you" and turn back to where Remus and James are talking.

"I was thinking we should try that area north of the lake," James is saying in a rather bossy voice, as Remus nods languidly. Maybe he needs some coffee.

"As long as it's well away from the house, I - " says Remus, but he cuts off when James realises I'm listening. I blush, feeling like I'm eavesdropping or something, but James doesn't miss a beat and says quickly "So, er, how do muggles make coffee?"

I decide to excuse his lame attempt at conversation-making, and launch into a vague description of the process.

"But if they grind the beans up, how come your drink doesn't have loads of bits in it?" James is frowning.

Remus laughs. "Really James, it's not that complicated."

I grin as well. "Well it does at first, but then you strain the granules out, using a filter or a cafetière."

"A what?" is the dignified answer.

I look around the tea room and sure enough, there's a whole shelf full of them gleaming in the light from the window at the front of the shop. "Those things," I say, pointing. James doesn't look any less puzzled, but shrugs his shoulders and turns back to his tea. Remus and I look at each other and he rolls his eyes. I look back at the cafetières near the entrance and, muttering a quick "Back in a sec" to the group, make my way over. They're quite cheap actually, and I decide to buy a small one, along with a packet of coffee. The house needs one anyway, I think, handing over a note to the cashier. As she's getting my change my gaze wanders to the window and across the street. There's another café across the road, not nearly as nice as Farrer's but boasting one main feature. It's an internet café.

My eyes widen. I barely notice the cashier stuffing my change into my limp hand and rush back to our table.

"What's wrong?" asks Lily, seeing my expression.

"Oh nothing, nothing, just bought something." I wave my hand in the air, trying to sound nonchalant. By the looks on their faces I don't think I succeeded. I dump the cafetière on my chair. "So I saw this internet café across the road, and I was thinking – my friends are all going to be really worried if I don't give them at least some excuse why I've disappeared this summer. Could I just pop across the street quickly to reply to their emails? I won't tell them the truth, just that I'm at some kind of remote summer camp with no internet or something…"

I trail off. Wow Analeigh, that's the longest you've spoken since you got here. Everyone at the table is exchanging glances, and I can see Lily's mouth twisting in indecision.

James breaks the silence first. "Emails?" he asks. He really is clueless about anything that doesn't involve magic.

"Kind of like letters, except they're sent between machines," answers Remus. James still looks confused.

"I don't know…" says Lily eventually, and I try to cool my frustration.

"Come on, Lily, it's only natural she'd want to give her friends some sort of excuse." Despite not really understanding emails, James obviously relates to wanting to contact friends. Remus is nodding and Peter begins to copy him. Finally Lily sighs.

"Well, ok, but I'm coming with you."

I just manage to refrain from rolling my eyes. "Really Lily - it's right across the street, and it's broad day light. You'll be able to see me from your table!"

I don't mean to sound bratty but I really don't want anybody peering over my shoulder while I reply to whatever's in my inbox. Stupid police state. Lily's still looking very uncertain, but James catches her eye and raises an eyebrow, and she gives in.

"Fine, but if you're not back in 15 minutes then we're sending a search party," she says reluctantly.

"Thanks!" I grin, flashing James a grateful look as I rush out of Farrer's.

I dash across the street and into the dingy internet café, making my way over to a computer. It's dirty and takes several clicks to make the mouse work, but once I put some change in the machine it's only a couple of seconds before I'm staring at my stuffed inbox. A lot of it's junk mail, or notifications about changes at my university – but as expected, there's a pile from my friends, with titles like "Oi, reply!" and "Where the hell are you?". My mood begins to plummet as I continue reading through the emails. My friends are so clueless as to what's actually going on, and I can't even tell them. I'm going to have to lie to every single one. Not that they'd really believe the truth even if I told them. Then I remember that I only have 15 minutes before Lily comes storming in here, and with great effort succeed in pulling myself out of my downward spiral and into a more practical mindset. I fire off answers to each one, always with the same general excuse – I'm working at a summer camp out in the Blue Ridge Mountains in the US, so probably won't be contactable for a while. It's realistic enough, I guess.

It's only as I'm logging off and picking up my bag that I see it. Right at the front of the store, just to the left of the door that I came in through is a payphone. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest. Analeigh you shouldn't. But I just can't resist – my body seems to be acting on autopilot and I'm barely aware of dashing over to the machine, ramming some change through the coin slot and dialing the number I know off-by-heart. My heart is in my mouth as the phone rings. Please please please I chant in my head I just want to hear her voice one more time. It's still ringing. What if they're packing? Or maybe they've left already? Suddenly the ringing stops, and the familiar voice mail message plays. It's not much, but it's my mother's voice and I feel tears gathering in my eyes.

"Hello, you've reached the Grayson residence. We're sorry we're not able to take your call right now, but please leave a –"

I'm listening so intently to the voice that I don't hear the motorcycle pulling up down the street, and the phone is suddenly torn from my grip and rammed forcefully back onto the receiver. I whirl around and gasp in surprise as I find myself face to face with Sirius. How did…but I can't think any more than that because the fury rolling off of him makes my brain freeze. It's like the night we met, and I cringe in fear. His eyes are chips of steel again and he's grinding his teeth.

"And what the fuck," he finally manages to hiss, "was that?" .

When I don't answer immediately he gives me a little shake, and I blurt out, "I wasn't trying to talk to anyone I swear, I just wanted to hear her voice then hang up, I wasn't going to talk…" He doesn't look like he believes me but now that I've started I can't stop. I put my hands on his chest and push, trying to back away slightly. I can't make out his face anymore through my tears, and I feel like I'm drowning in waves of nostalgia and homesickness.

"Honestly I didn't say anything I just wanted to hear my mother, it won't happen again – " and then I break off because I can't talk through the tightness in my throat, and the tears have started to spill out of my eyes.

At this, Sirius seems to decide that I'm not lying, and his body relaxes as he puts a hand on my back to guide me outside.

I brush away my tears quickly, somewhat angry that I'm crying in front of him again. He leads us over to a low brick wall that runs in front of the internet café, and I lean against it. He stands in front of me, and looking at the ground I can see him shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Seemingly making up his mind, he shoves a hand deep into one of the pockets on his leather jacket and pulls out a rather bedraggled tissue, handing it to me. I murmur thanks as he takes a seat on the wall next to me. Come on Analeigh, pull it together. I give my eyes one last wipe and raise my head to feel the sun's rays. Then, taking a deep breath and pushing myself away from the wall, I say in as normal a voice as I can muster, "We should probably head to Farrer's, before they get worried…"

Sirius gives me an inscrutable look, before cocking his head slightly to the side and regarding me from his perch.

"You look like a sunflower," he says, with a genuine grin. Well that was unexpected. I look down at my dress. It is pretty yellow. I manage a weak smile in return, but before I can think of an answer, he's off the wall and walking towards the road. Without thinking, I grab his arm.

"Wait" I cringe a little at how desperate that sounded, but continue. "Could you er…not mention all this to Lily and…people? I…don't want her to worry…"

"I won't have to," he retorts, turning to face me. I realise we're standing quite close now. "One look at your face and she'll know something's up."

I blush slightly. "It's that obvious?"

"Yup. Ah here they are."

I look across the road and sure enough, emerging from the quaint shop is the whole group. Sirius holds up a hand to them in greeting, and I wave. Even from this distance I can tell that Lily looks relieved.

"So you have two options," continues Sirius, looking back at me, and I frown slightly. "You can ride cramped in a car with all five of them, and have Lily giving you weird looks all the way home. Or you can ride with me. Your choice." Wait what?

"Ride with you?" I bluster, totally surprised. Sirius rolls his eyes and makes a grand gesture to a spot a little further down the road. Sitting there, glinting like a mirror in the sun is an extremely large motorbike. I gawp, but Sirius is just radiating pride. Is there anything about this boy that doesn't just scream 'hooligan'? I distinctly remember my father telling me sternly "You ever get on the back of some boy's motorbike, I'll ground you till you're 25!" I gulp.

"But…how do you know I won't fall off?" I try to keep the hysteria out of my voice.

"You won't." is the simple reply. I look at him incredulously and he laughs. "Relax, it's been modified with magic to make it impossible to fall off while riding."

I sigh. Weigh up my options. On the one hand, I really don't want to sit shoved up against two other people in the back seat of a car for 30 minutes while being questioned about why I've been crying. On the other hand – this might just kill me. Great. I look at Sirius, seeking some kind of extra reassurance about this, but he just quirks an eyebrow and smirks. I roll my eyes and nod.

"We'll meet you there, James!" Sirius calls across the street, attracting a few disgruntled stares from the locals, and James gives him the thumbs up before dragging a gobsmacked Lily towards the car with him. Sirius shakes out of his leather jacket and holds it out to me.

"Thanks, but I'm not cold," I say, puzzled.

"Well it gets pretty windy on the road. Plus," he adds, grinning wolfishly, "this way if you do fall off, at least your skin won't get so grazed."

What? I gape at him, unable to work out if he's teasing me or not, but I snatch the jacket from his grip anyway and shrug into it. This is the second time you've had his jacket, I think, and I go a little red at the familiarity of it.

He laughs as he makes his way to the bike and climbs on. I follow behind and do the same, glaring at his back the whole time and jumping slightly when, with a jolt, the engine growls to life. The bike is absolutely huge, but in a weird, slightly distorted kind of way – like it's been altered since leaving the factory. By magic, probably. I take a deep breath in a half-hearted attempt to calm myself. Relax, Analeigh, he can't actually mean to kill you. I'm trying to arrange my dress in a way that doesn't show my thighs to the whole town when Sirius turns to look at me with a smirk.

"You might want to hold on." is all the warning I get before we pull out onto the road with a roar and a scream of tires.

Don't be shy - review!

Ok so first I just have to say - I realise that internet cafes didn't actually exist until basically the 90's, but I've kept it in there because "artistic license". But I promise that's the last anachronistic thing you'll see in this story, so apologies to anyone who is offended by it!

Thanks to amazing rosegold1996 and FlameFeather4549 for their lovely reviews - they totally make my day :D

I actually meant for a lot more to happen in this chapter, but when I got to more than 5300 words I decided it probably needed to be split :) The next chapter might be a little while coming though, because of holidays and stuff, but hopefully not too long!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything except Analeigh and Analeigh-related things.

BFxx