'Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warning: None for this chapter.

Note: In researching some events for later chapters, I found that one of the major plot lines occurs in the Marauders' 6th year. To accommodate that event, I have gone back through this story and changed their current year from 4th to 5th. I appreciate your patience with this change. Enjoy!

Chapter 16 – Marauders Come Home

Sirius managed to finagle release from the hospital wing in the afternoon of his second full day back at Hogwarts. Poppy Pomfrey had been determined to keep the boy under careful observation for several days longer but Sirius had been equally determined to leave as quickly as possible. He hated being the center of attention for reasons he, himself, did not initiate. Pranks and jokes that put him squarely in front of everyone were more than acceptable; focused attention because of weakness – of any kind – was absolutely not to be tolerated. In the end, despite the newly developed mutual affection between the Healer and the student, the volume of their disagreement had reached such levels that Dumbledore, himself, had been brought in to settle the dispute.

"Have you been eating, Mr. Black?" the Headmaster inquired, peering at the boy through his half-moon spectacles.

"Yes, Sir," came the response. "Broth and dinner rolls last night, eggs, fried tomatoes and toast this morning and a bowl of soup and a sandwich for lunch today."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he listened to Sirius' recitation. "What? Nothing to drink?" he asked, smiling, when the boy paused for breath.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Tea, Sir. Enough so that I wouldn't be surprised if I started pissing tea leaves … oh, umm, sorry, Madam Pomfrey." But despite his display of contrition, Sirius managed a sly smile on his still pale face.

Dumbledore's smile deepened. "Well, Poppy, I would say that Mr. Black seems well enough to be released to Gryffindor Tower – with a few rules." This last emphasized to quell the indignation of the school's Healer and hopefully rein in the obvious glee that was threatening to break out all over the face of the "patient".

"Rule number 1: Mr. Black, you are required to come to the Great Hall for each meal. Whilst there are no students staying here for the holiday break, most of the teachers are back in residence. We generally suspend the formality of the High Table and eat around a large, round table at one end. You may join us there for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We continue to observe the standard in-session meal times." Dumbledore paused and when no comment was forthcoming from either party, he continued, "Rule number 2, you will refrain from wandering out of doors during this time. You are only recently recovering from quite a serious illness. I do not want a recurrence. Finally, if you feel unwell at all, you are to come straight to the hospital wing where Poppy will attend to you. Are we agreed?"

Sirius nodded, although he wasn't quite sure how dining with the teachers would suit him.

"Now, Poppy," the Headmaster turned to Madam Pomfrey. "For your part, you agree that you will not call Mr. Black here down to the hospital wing to perform any impromptu examinations to ensure that he is adhering to these rules. In return, I promise to deliver him to you, post-haste, if I find him deficient. Are we agreed?"

Reluctantly, the Healer nodded.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Mr. Black, whilst we have relaxed the dining regimen in the Great Hall during the holiday season, we seldom arrive in our nightwear. Might I suggest that you run along to your dormitory, take advantage of the solitude of the showers, then rest up a bit before dressing and joining us for dinner later this evening?"

Sirius nodded, smiling widely. Once Poppy had left, grumbling under breath about 'relapses' and 'careful monitoring' and Dumbledore had exited the wing to return to his office, he rose carefully. In Poppy's earlier absence, Sirius had tried to rise and test his strength and, although he found himself to be much improved, he was still a bit woozy from being as inactive as he'd been. He wanted no swaying or momentary dizziness to shackle him to his hospital bed any longer. As he donned a set of working robes that had been retrieved for him from his room, Sirius suddenly understood why Remus found the dormitory much more conducive to a quick recovery each month than the ultra-controlled atmosphere of the hospital wing.

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It took Sirius much longer than the normal time to travel the distance from the hospital wing to Gryffindor tower. The stairs – which thankfully remained stationary – were still steep and climbing several flights proved taxing to his slowly returning strength. Standing before the Fat Lady's portrait that concealed the Gryffindor common room, Sirius took a few moments to catch his breath before providing the password.

"Wizarding Wheezes," he managed.

"Well, that's appropriate for you," the portrait replied, peering 'round the frame for a closer look at the young wizard before her. "Not too close," she admonished, backing up a bit as Sirius, breathing normally once again, inched closer to the portrait. "Obviously, you're ill and I must protect my voice, you know. It wouldn't do for me to come into contact with any germ that could do it harm." She cleared her throat and offered a few tentative trills as if checking to ensure that Sirius could not have possibly infected her so quickly.

Sirius grimaced at the sound. I can't believe anything I could do could make that caterwauling any worse than it is right now! Impatient to be back in the dormitories, Sirius raised his voice slightly and waved his hands to call attention to himself.

"EXCUSE me!" When silence reigned once more, he continued, "Wizarding Wheezes? I believe that's the correct password…"

"Oh, very well," she huffed, swinging to. "There! Satisfied?"

With a half bow toward the Portrait, Sirius made his way through the opening and sighed with true satisfaction when he finally stood in the empty common room. Standing stock still for a moment, the young wizard closed his eyes, allowing the stillness to wash over him. He inhaled deeply, the scents of burned birch logs, chocolate and the lemony cleanser used by the house elves filling his nostrils and giving Sirius a feeling of warmth, belonging – home. He opened his eyes and glanced around him. Even though I'm the only person here, I feel less alone than I did in London, he said to himself, grimly. Recalling the owl he had sent to James just before dressing and leaving the hospital wing, Sirius' face split into a wide grin. He knew that James would reply promptly and he turned to the short flight of stairs that would take him to his dormitory room to await the return of his owl.

Intending only to rest for a short while, Sirius lay on top of his bed, leaving the bed hangings tied back as he settled in, facing the window. He was surprised to find himself jolted from sleep an hour later by the sound of increasingly irritated pecking against the windowpane. Sirius rose and unlatched the window to find a very annoyed school owl standing on the ledge. The bird stuck its leg out for Sirius to remove the parchment that was tied there. After he had done so, the bird gave his arm a nudge with its beak and it flew off in the direction of the Owlry. Sirius hurried to re-latch the window then sank down on the window seat to read his message. He smiled. Good old Prongs.

Padfoot,

Revolting family you've got – right bunch of bleeders, they are. It must've been bad if your father let you go back to Hogwarts with over a week left 'til term starts up again. You didn't say much, so plan on giving over when we get back. 'Til then, never mind. You're safe now, mate. Heard from Remus; did you know that our presents for you came back to us? To tell you the truth, Pads, I thought you might've been having a bit of a tough time when my owl came back fully loaded with everything I sent him off with. We'll have our own Christmas when we get back. I'm sure you got me something brilliant!

Listen, Pads – do what Pomfrey tells you, yeah? Even if she gives you some disgusting potion or something, just take it. We're brothers – you and me – remember? Well, and Marauders, too, but brothers first. Right. Enough. I'm starting to sound like my mother.

Oh - and … no pranks without me, yeah? What am I saying? You need me to get them right! (Ha, ha!)

See you soon…………Prongs

Sirius found himself smiling as he read the message through twice more before folding it carefully and tucking it in the drawer of his bed stand. Glancing at the clock next to his bed, Sirius saw that he had time to sleep a bit before dinner so he stripped off his robes and slipped under the covers.

Two hours later, showered, dressed and feeling a bit more like himself, Sirius made his way to the Great Hall with fifteen minutes to spare. His stomach told him it was definitely time for dinner, but the lack of the raucous sounds that normally came from hundreds of hungry students was definitely disconcerting. Sirius entered the Hall and immediately noticed the large table set up at the far end of the room. As he approached, teachers drifted toward the table in pairs or alone, taking their seats and continuing their conversations. The atmosphere was decidedly more relaxed, if significantly less noisy.

"Ah, Mr. Black, there you are," McGonagall put her arm 'round his shoulders and turned him away from the table – toward the spot where Hagrid was standing with Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Sirius' initial confusion at his diversion was replaced by amusement as he caught sight of the two men before him. He smiled. Talk about opposites! Hagrid's belief that Blast-ended Skrewts and Hungarian Horntail dragons were ''armless as kittens if yer treat 'em proper' was legend throughout the school. Kettleburn, whose poor luck often saw him in the grumpy presence of the more challenging of magical creatures, harbored no such fantasies. Hagrid frequently saw it as his quest to win over the old professor; thus far he had experienced no success – but the debates were amusing to witness. Privately, the Marauders thought that if Kettleburn retired with all the limbs he was born with, he would be quite lucky, indeed. This could be fun, Sirius thought to himself.

"Professor Kettleburn, Hagrid, Mr. Black has returned early for the new school term. He'll be joining us for dinner," McGonagall was saying. She gently patted Sirius' shoulder and he found himself bristling at what he guessed was a gesture of pity. Sirius turned sharply toward his Head of House, but when he met her eyes, he found no pity whatsoever. The usually severe Scotswoman looked back at him with a kind expression that betrayed her compassion, but did not offend him. Sirius relaxed, nodded and turned back to the other two men who were well into a debate about whether or not the Clabbert was as happy a creature as his wide grin would have one believe. Hagrid, of course, was firmly of the belief that the Clabbert was one of Wizarding Britain's happiest and most easily domesticated of creatures. Therefore, he reasoned, they should certainly be part of the curriculum at Hogwarts. Sirius suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He swore that Hagrid thought the Chimaera was merely misunderstood instead of the bloodthirsty, cunning creature it truly was.

"Hagrid, please," Kettleburn was saying in response, waving heavily bandaged fingers in the air in dismissal. "Clabberts are not domesticated creatures. To begin with, they disappear whenever they sense the presence of Muggles. Imagine how difficult it would be to have them here – with all the Muggle-born students in the castle."

The gamekeeper's response was lost to Sirius as McGonagall touched his arm and interjected herself into the midst of the conversation. "Gentlemen," she began. As she saw that only Sirius paid her any heed, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Gentlemen, please!" This got their attention. "We're ready for dinner," she said more quietly. "Come find your seat, Mr. Black."

Sirius turned toward the table and stopped in his tracks, feeling Professor McGonagall let go of his elbow and step away. Finding his seat would not be difficult. There, seated next to the only empty chair remaining at the table was James. James. Sirius felt himself well up and his vision blurred for a moment. Bloody hell, he thought to himself, blinking rapidly and swallowing the thick lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. James seemed to understand what his best friend was going through and he reverted to form.

"Well, mate, are you going to stand there all night, staring at me? I mean, it's fine and all that, but they won't serve anyone 'til we're all sitting down and it's not on to make everybody starve, is it?" With a sly grin, the bespectacled wizard moved the empty chair back with his foot and pointed at it. "Sit, Sirius; sit, boy!" James then shifted his gaze to his empty plate, knowing he'd danced closely enough to their mutual secret and needn't go any further.

Sirius' eyebrows rose in surprise, but James' comment did the trick. He snapped out of his semi-trance and sank into the chair next to his best mate. "How did you…? Your parents really let you …?" Sirius fell silent, realizing that he had somehow lost the ability to form full sentences.

Dumbledore's voice called for dinner to be served and, as usual, a wide variety of sumptuous food filled the serving dishes and plates 'round the table. Sirius glanced up at the Headmaster, who smiled widely back at him.

"When the Potters heard that you had returned to school unexpectedly, they were quite glad to allow James to return as well," he said quietly from his seat next to the boy. "You wouldn't want to spend almost a week rattling around the castle with only your professors for company, would you?" He winked at the young wizard.

James gave Sirius a gentle elbow to the ribs. "There's more, Sirius." With a glance over the other boy's head at the Headmaster, he continued, with a smile, "Remus will be here tomorrow."

Sirius' eyes grew wide and his fork clattered against his plate as he turned to look at his friend. "Remus?"

James reached over and helped himself to a large turkey drumstick from the gleaming platter in front of Sirius. "Yeah. Remus. You remember him, don't you mate? Kind of tall kid? Skinny? Always has his nose stuck in a book? Smells of Honeyduke's Finest? You know … Remus." He took a large bite from the drumstick, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I know who you mean, you git! But … his mother isn't usually happy to see him leave even when it's time to get the Express back to Hogwarts! How did he get her to let him come back early?"

James swallowed before turning to his friend. All but Dumbledore were preoccupied with their meals and conversations. James leaned over toward his friend. "We're brothers, remember? One of us is in trouble; all of us stand with him. Family, Sirius, isn't all about blood – pure or otherwise."

Sirius kept his head down - deeply moved by James' words. When he trusted himself to speak, he asked, "Peter, too?"

James frowned. "Nah. His mum never lets go of him 'til the Hogwarts Express starts pulling out of the station and he has to get on board. No chance he could get away early." He smirked in an effort to lighten the mood. "But I'm sure he'll be thrilled you missed him so."

His words had the desired effect. Sirius lifted his head and returned James' smirk. "Careful, there, Potter," he murmured. "We've got almost a week before the regular routine kicks in. Plenty of time to get back at you!" Sirius raised his head and caught Poppy Pomfrey looking pointedly at his plate. He flashed her a smile and picked up his fork, happily tucking into his dinner. He'd been right all along; this was home and the Marauders truly were his family.

XXXXXXXX

Later that evening, when dinner was long over and the Great Hall cleared, the two friends settled in the Gryffindor common room.

"Fancy a game of Wizard Chess?" James asked. At Sirius' nod, he dragged the Gryffindor set from its cupboard and began to set it up on the low table before the blazing hearth.

"Haven't played this since we left for holiday," Sirius commented, dropping an overstuffed cushion onto the floor at one end of the table. He was unaware that James was watching him as Sirius proceeded to carefully lower himself to rest on the cushion's brocade surface. He sighed, feeling some residual stiffness in his back. When Sirius opened his eyes, it was to the sight of James, seated on the floor across from him, hazel eyes fixed firmly on his own. Sirius shrugged. "Apparently we're not going to play Wizard Chess straight away."

"Got it in one. What I really want to know first is what happened to you – and why in hell you're taking as long as my grandmother would to put your arse on a floor cushion," James replied. "Go on, mate."

"I thought Dumbledore told you everything," Sirius was puzzled. "Why else would you have come back early?"

James shook his head. "He told my parents you'd had some trouble at home and that you'd been brought back to school. The way he'd said it – I just knew something bad had happened. So did Mum and Dad; they agreed to let me come back to school straight away. But details? Dumbledore seemed to think that you would tell me when we saw each other. So…tell me." There was no missing the determination in James' voice – or in his eyes.

With a resigned sigh, Sirius gave James a brief rundown of the events of his time at home. Although Sirius did not provide the other boy with all of the details, those he did include were more than enough for James to know that he had been through hell. When Sirius finished, James was fighting for control of his anger.

"They can't be allowed to get away with this, Pads," James gritted out. "Didn't Dumbledore say he was going to do anything about this?"

"Like what?"

James exhaled sharply. "How about reporting your mother, for one; your father for another?"

Sirius shook his head. "Jamie, who would he report them to? We're Blacks. My parents are very well connected. Even if there was someone he could report them to, it's not like anything would actually happen. Think about it, James. My father would get out of it." The boy paused. "Besides, he'd never let anything happen to her. He said that he couldn't get a Healer … well, it doesn't bloody matter what he said. Just…nothing would come of it. Let it go. As it is, I don't have to go back to Grimmauld Place until the summer holidays. I have other things I need to focus on right now."

James considered his friend. The crackling of the logs blazing in the fire was the only sound in the room for several long moments. "There's more. Tell me the rest of it."

"They've found me a 'suitable bride'," Sirius smiled humorlessly.

James' eyes widened behind his spectacles until it seemed that they filled the lenses. "What?"

"A bride, James. A pureblood witch they find good enough to marry the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Ofelia Bullstrode," Sirius confided. "She'll be coming to Hogwarts next week when the new term begins. She's been at Beauxbatons. We're to take the next year getting to know each other. A mere formality, really. It's an arranged marriage; Blacks do it all the time." Sirius slowly half-turned so that he faced the fire. He brought his knees up and clasped his arms 'round them loosely, still favoring the tender scars on his back.

James did not intrude on the silence. He knew Sirius well enough to know that pauses like this one typically allowed the other boy to gather his thoughts before continuing. Even though Sirius' reputation painted him otherwise, he was not always impulsive; when dealing with matters concerning his family. While James was the only Marauder in whom he confided the more painful aspects of his life at home, James wasn't stupid. He knew that he did not hear full details; Sirius' current silence bespoke of the careful editing process he applied to all disclosures. James poked absently at the chess pieces, ignoring their muttered protests and was finally rewarded when Sirius picked up the conversation once again.

"The arranged marriage piece of the Black family tradition dies here, Jamie," he said quietly. "I'm not going to do it. I won't marry Ofelia Bullstrode. I don't care what my parents say." Sirius turned his head and looked at James.

James' eyebrows lifted. "Sirius, look what they did to you this time! When you just told them that you didn't want to do it! Don't you think it will be bloody well worse if you actually refuse to have anything to do with her?"

Sirius turned back toward the table. "Listen, James. They won't do anything to me if it's Ofelia's decision to walk away from me, right?"

James' face was skeptical. "And how do you think you'll pull that off? Isn't she happy to be marrying in to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

Sirius shook his head. "She didn't seem too happy about leaving Beauxbatons and coming here. Her father told her she had to do it for the family. You should have seen her face, Prongs; looked like someone backed over her Kneazle."

"I ask you again; how are you going to go about making her run crying home to Daddy?"

"I currently enjoy a reputation as being a bit of a randy dog, right?"

James nodded. "Right. So, you're going to make sure that she catches wind of it?"

Sirius smiled. "No, Jamie; I want it to hit her right between the bloody eyes."

James folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side as he regarded his best friend. "Not too bad, Padfoot. One problem, though."

"Yeah?"

"Kate," James leaned forward. "What do you plan to do about Kate, Padfoot?"

Sirius shook his head. "She can't be part of that, Jamie. You know how she reacted to that bint our first Hogsmeade weekend. I can't put her in that role, James. I can't use her to make Ofelia run; Kate will run right alongside her. I can't risk it."

"Right. But you'll tell her what's happening."

"I thought about it, but how can I? Ofelia knows all about Kate; her brother's already here – in Slytherin, of course. He's been telling his parents all about me, the tosser; that's part of what landed me in the basement. I've been given strict orders to change my boorish behavior. Ofelia's father wanted a guarantee that I'd straighten out for his little girl. Told my father that all bets were off if I didn't behave myself," Sirius finished.

James frowned. "I think not telling Kate is a huge mistake, Pads. Think about it. She's bound to hear about Ofelia and the arrangement your parents have made for you. Wouldn't it be better for her to hear it from you?"

Sirius rose – slowly. "Jamie, I can't. Don't you see? If she doesn't react properly, that Slytherin brother of Ofelia's will report back to her parents that I'm up to something. They'll bring my parents into it and this," Sirius stripped off his shirt and turned to show James the scars on his back. "This will be nothing compared to what Mother will do to me after she's summoned me home." James looked at the criss-cross pattern of dark pink striping on his best friend's back and his gasp was audible. "Sirius!" he breathed.

Sirius shrugged his shirt back into place. "Yeah, Jamie. Nice, eh? That's the type of fuckin' family I've got. You know. If Kate doesn't get pissed off at me, no one will believe anything I'm doing – least of all Ofelia and her brother. And right after graduation, you can kiss the Marauders goodbye, Prongs. I'll be hand-fasted to this bint so fast your head will spin. No," he sat back down, shaking his head. "I can't risk it. I'll explain it to Kate when it's over."

James was still shocked at the look of his friend's back and he began to understand why the other boy was so adamant that things be done according to his own plan. "I just hope she'll be willing to listen to you when you finally decide to explain it all to her," James managed.

Sirius nodded. "It's a chance I have to take," he said quietly. "Now, how about that game?"

James sighed and began to prod the pieces back into place. Why do I think this will blow up in our faces? Maybe Remus can talk some sense into the big git when he gets here tomorrow.