A/N: Firstly, thanks to everyone who has reviewed this so far! Great to see some comments on it. Secondly, to Mmhhm. Marauder as I cannot send you a review reply. Thank you soooo much for the reviews, and don't worry about sounding too harsh; I love to hear more of what people think, especially in what I can improve on. And don't worry; I do plan for more fun/pranks in Born to Be Kings. For me, the first book was sort of laying the groundwork. This one will have more of them becoming the kings of prank ;)
And, like I said there, I love to hear what you, my dear readers, would like to see more of, so any suggestions/comments then please review or PM me. I'm always open to suggestions.
Enjoy the chapter.
Anger and shock ran through the Lupins, Pettigrews and Potters. The three couples turned to stare at Walburga Black, as a sly smile crept across her face. Slowly, her eyes scanned the faces of James, Remus and Peter watching as James' face crumpled, as Peter just gaped and Remus stared at the table, his small body shaking.
"You bitch!" The cry came from Sirius, his eyes narrow and his face red as he stared at his mother. "You horrible old hag!"
"Do not talk to me like that," she hissed, lifting her chin as her eyes stared down at him. "Show some respect, Sirius."
"Respect is earned," he snapped back. "And there's no way I will ever respect a wretched horrible bitch like you."
The other patrons of The Leaky Cauldron carried on their own conversations, their own eating and drinking, ignoring Walburga as she slapped her son across his face. In the family group, only Reg flinched. But on the table shared by the three friends on their families, the three boys stood.
"Sit down," Mrs Potter whispered, eyes falling on her son. "James, please..."
"And what are you three going to do?" Walburga cackled, eyes snapping to stare at them. "Turn my hair that sickly shade of red that belongs to Gryffindor? I have heard you're very fond of that...trick," she drawled whilst, behind her, Bellatrix smiled.
"Shut up!" Sirius hissed, his fists clenched together at his sides, his body trembling as she turned her eyes onto him. "Just shut up! You have no right to talk to them like that! You have no right to treat people as second-class just because you think you're so much better! You're just a bitter old woman!"
Her face flushed red as she reached out, grabbing Sirius' wrist and pulling him towards her. He puffed his chest out, eyes wide and defiant as she bent her head, face inches from his.
"Bellatrix, Narcissa, Andromeda," she said, panting between each name, "make sure your cousin arrives home safely."
With that, she disappeared, apparating out of the pub and out of sight. Remus' mother gaped at the spot where she had stood, as the three girls ushered their cousin towards the fireplace. Everyone else in the room avoided looking at them, but James couldn't help but notice the smirks on two of the three Black girls' faces.
Soon, the rest of them had disappeared into the fire place, and the three boys sank down in their seats.
Mr Pettigrew's face was red. "That," he muttered, "is, without a doubt, a breach of Ministry protocol."
Mr Potter nodded slowly. "You cannot apparate with someone under the age of sixteen, am I right?"
It was Mrs Pettigrew, this time, who nodded. "You're right. There are too many dangers involved for someone who hasn't been more...educated, in terms of magic, and..."
"Stop," Peter whined, turning his gaze to his mother. "Mum, just...stop. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Or us," James muttered, glancing at his own parents. "Why didn't you tell us Professor York had died?"
"They were trying to protect us." Remus had returned his focus to the table, shoulders near his ears as he stared at the wood. His hands were under the table, folded together on his lap. Everyone turned to look at him. "Right? Because that's what you do when you love someone. You keep secrets and try to protect them." Slowly he lifted his head, eyes wide as they fell on his mother. Slowly she nodded, tears all too clear in the bottom of her eyes.
"We were going to tell you," Mr Potter said, letting out a deep breath. "James, please believe us, me and your mother, we really were going to tell you. We just..."
"Needed a better time," Mrs Potter cut in, standing slowly. She glanced at the other two couples. "It was lovely seeing you again." Her voice was crisp, curt but shaking. She turned to James. "Come on, James, we should get home."
Quickly he said his goodbyes to his friends, before his parents ushered him, gently, towards the fireplace. All too soon he was standing in the Potter's living room, his back to the fireplace as his parents stepped out of it. He kept his arms at his sides, his head bowed forward.
"James?" his mother whispered, slowly approaching him.
He turned towards her and before he could do anything else, he had crumpled into her embrace, sobbing gently into her.
X X X
Peter soon left with his parents, leaving Remus and his family in the Cauldron. Mrs Lupin suggested they head to their rooms and both her husband and son agreed, the four of them pulling themselves slowly up the stairs. Once in the corridor, Remus' parents headed to their room, Mr Lupin handing his son some money, in case he wanted a drink from the bar downstairs. Remus watched them disappear into their room before he headed into his.
Once there, he gathered up a towel and shampoo, holding them tightly to him as he darted back out to use the shared bathroom. Half-way down the hall, he bumped into a familiar face.
"Remus?"
"Lily?" he spluttered, glancing at her. She had just slid out of another room, carefully locking it behind her, and now leant against the door, staring at him.
"Oh, are you staying here, too?" she asked, eyeing the items in his hands.
Remus nodded.
"That's great," she muttered. "I...I should let you go..."
"Do you want to grab a drink?" he offered. "Downstairs? My dad gave me some money."
Brightly, she smiled at him, nodding eagerly. "Please. I need to get away from my sister." She rolled her eyes as Remus walked with her back down the hall, dropping his stuff off in his room before they went downstairs.
Once in the bar, they sat at a table over to the side. It still wasn't late, and the majority of customers were those who had recently finished shopping and were staying at the inn or about to head home. Of course, there were a number of people there who Remus had seen when they had arrived, and who, he suspected, would remain until closing time.
"Remus," Lily began, before letting out a deep breath. "I'm sorry I...I didn't really speak to you much, towards the end of last year. But with...with everything going on..."
"It's okay," he muttered, fidgeting as he glanced anywhere but at her. "Lily, it's fine, I..."
"Did you hear about Professor York?" she asked, biting down on her bottom lip. "Apparently, Mum and Dad had an owl about it. They told me and...and..." Tear sprung up in her eyes as she tilted her head forward, body shaking. Remus didn't know what to say. He knew they – all of them – were too young to have to deal with everything that had happened, to deal with the deaths and the random destruction that had taken place.
And he knew that was why their parents had kept the information from them. But there was something at the back of his mind, something telling him that there had to be more to it than that. After all, Lily's parents had told her instantly, so what was it that the others knew that Mr and Mrs Evans didn't?
"Did you say you were here with your sister?"
She sniffed before nodding. "Yeah, and my parents. We arrived not long ago; going shopping tomorrow for my stuff."
"Your sister..."
"Is a pain," she muttered, shaking her head. "Petunia...she doesn't like having a freak in the family," she scoffed, turning away from Remus and staring at the bar. "Did you know I live near Severus?"
"Snape?"
"Yeah."
"No, I..." He paused. It made sense. After all, the two did seem close, even before they'd started at Hogwarts. "So?" he asked, trying to keep his voice soft, gentle.
"He's going through some...stuff," she replied, taking a deep breath as she turned back to him, fixing him with her emerald green stare. "Please, Remus, if you could...ask Potter and Black to lay off him this term, would you?"
"I'll try," he stuttered, though he knew it would have no effect. Sirius and James hated the Slytherins, and telling them not to try to prank or insult one of them was like telling them not to breathe.
"Thanks. I should get back."
And suddenly she was gone, darting up the stairs and back to her room.
X X X
A soft knock on his door made Peter's head snap up. Gently, his mother's voice called though the wood, asking if she could come in. He replied, weakly, that she could, and suddenly she was standing in front of him with a bowl of hot soup in one hand and a plate of bread in the other.
Sniffing, Peter forced himself to sit up. She handed him the food and sat down on the bed, surveying him with warm eyes.
"Peter?" she asked, voice gentle. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged, digging into the food with his eyes fixed on the bowl as he dunked in a slice of bread.
"If you want to talk..."
"You and Dad aren't here to talk to," he muttered, biting down on the bread and chewing it slowly, still not looking at her. "Tomorrow, you'll both be back at work and it'll just be me and the house-elves. Again."
"I'm sorry, Peter," she sighed. "But it really can't be helped. With everything that's been going on..."
"You could at least tell me," he replied, narrowing his eyes into a glare as he looked at her. "You could at least explain to me why you and Dad are never here. You should have told me that Professor York had died!"
"We..."
He turned away from, so sharply that the bowl and bread fell off the bed, falling onto the floor. Mrs Pettigrew sighed, eyes falling on the upturned bowl.
"Peter..."
"Go away!" he sobbed, sinking down into his bed and pulling the blanket over his head. "Just go away."
Holding back her own tears, she left him in his room. Once in the corridor, she leant against the door, closing her eyes and wishing things didn't have to be the way they were.
X X X
"Get to your room! Now!"
Puffing his chest out, Sirius just stared at his mother, his cold eyes narrowed as she glared at him. Her usually pale, drawn face was flushed with rage, her wand clenched in her hand. He knew she would use it, if she saw fit. Nothing could be put past Walburga Black, not even the possibility of using a nasty curse on her own son.
"Fine!" he snapped. "I hate being around bitter old cows anyway!" With that, Sirius turned and stalked out of the kitchen, stamping his feet on the stairs until he arrived at his room. Wrenching open the door, he made sure to slam it behind him before stepping into the room and falling onto his bed.
It didn't always used to be like this.
He remembered days of sunlight and happiness, when he was much younger. He remembered his mother taking him and Reg to the park, watching them as they swung on the swings. Although she disliked Muggles, she put up with their presence to see her children enjoy themselves.
But then something awful had happened, and if it wasn't for Walburga's steely resolve, Sirius expected they would have been kicked out of all the upper class Wizarding circles.
Sirius' dad left.
Worse; he had left them for another woman.
And to top it off, the woman was a muggle-born.
Sirius slowed his breathing down, already sensing the items in his room shaking, a sure sign that if he didn't calm down, his magic would take his anger out for him.
Since he could remember, Sirius had been told that being a Black meant he was born into nobility. They were above other wizarding families, especially those that were known as being Muggle lovers. They were better than the Potters, the Weasleys, the Pettigrews and Lupins. Better than any Muggle born children he would ever meet. And, the strange thing was, most of this came from his father. His mother believed it, too, but it wasn't until he left that she began to drill it into their heads, too.
But the whole belief system, for Sirius, had come crashing down when his father left.
He had been eight at the time, and had silently questioned the teachings he had been taught. If they were better, then why had his father run off with a muggle-born? And then he had gone to Hogwarts and realised, no, they weren't better than any other family. They weren't better than those born to muggle parents. They were the same; they looked the same, they breathed the same, they had the same questions and same feelings and, actually, his best friends were those his mother hated.
And he knew his family hated him for it.
Except for Andromeda.
She had been there, when his father left. She had been there to answer his questions about Muggles and why they hated them so. She had been the one to tell him that no wizard or witch was better than another just because they had a certain surname.
A strange thought occurred to Sirius. Some of the best owls could find a person, even with no address. It depended on a variety of factors, of course, but at school there were a number of different owls and at least one of them had to have that rare ability...
He sat up in his bed, eyes fixed on the door.
Perhaps he could try writing to his estranged father. Maybe the man would take him in for the following summer, have him away from his mother and her horrible ways.
For a brief moment, Sirius smiled, before the practicalities kicked in. His mother was his legal guardian, she had ensured that as soon as Mr Black had left. The law stated that, if he were to leave home before his sixteenth birthday, she could have the Ministry track him down and drag him back.
But, someday, he vowed, he would find his father again, even if he only got the chance to ask him why.
X X X
"For the love of Merlin, would you hurry up?"
His mother's voice travelled up the stairs, sending a verbal kick up his arse. Quickly, he slammed the top of the suitcase down and sat on it, bending down to zip it up, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. Despite the excitement surging through him about going back, there was something deeper down that made him question why he felt so happy.
After all, he was returning to a very different Hogwarts than the one he had started at a year ago.
"James Potter!" his mother cried. "You have exactly thirty seconds to get your suitcase to the top of those stairs and..."
"Done!" he said, appearing at the top with his suitcase, grinning down at her. His mother let out a sigh, before pointing her wand at the suitcase. She charmed it and, seconds later, it was floating down the stairs with James following behind.
His father was in the living room, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. He scooped up a pile of coins from on top of the fireplace, dropping them into James' hands.
"Should be enough for snacks on the train."
"Thanks, Dad!" His father hugged him, holding him tightly.
"Now, be careful, James, you hear? I don't want any news of trouble from the school."
James nodded. "I will," he muttered, shifting his feet as his mother bustled around the house, checking he had forgotten anything.
Eventually, she arrived back in the room with a big smile on her face. Clapping her hands together, she glanced at her son. "Your uniform's at the top?"
He nodded.
"Good. Good! Then come on, let's go." She ushered father and son towards the fireplace, causing them to glance at each other and share a quick smile. James' father reached for the pot, took out a pinch of the green powder and threw it into the fireplace, before grabbing the suitcase, yanking it in with him.
"King's Cross Station!" he called and in a whirl was gone.
"Go on, James."
James copied his father's actions, stumbling out into a small office, hidden away from the public at the train station. The man inside checked his list, ticking off their names before giving them a curt nod, as Mrs Potter appeared.
"Right, off you go," he muttered, gesturing them towards the door. "Quick, before the Prewetts arrive. Can't have you all crammed in here."
The family moved off, leaving through the door before turning right on the corridor they found themselves in.
Soon, they had entered the main section of the station. Walking between his parents, James glanced around at the various Muggles coming to and fro. None of them paid attention when they walked past families with children pushing large trolleys, some with owls or cats. He was always amazed at how little they paid attention to their surroundings.
When they arrived at the barrier, James' mother brushed him down before gently nudging him forward.
"Well, go on then, son."
With a grin, James pushed his trolley forward, heart thumping against his chest at the prospect of finally returning to school.
A/N: Yeah, so, pre-teen angst. Sorry about all that. Anyway, next chapter will be a bit more cheery, I promise. Just needed to lay some ground-work for my version of things, is all. As always, feedback and reviews are very much appreciated and any reviews over one-line in length are returned. Cheers.