Working on getting rid of that writer's block…

The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition is currently in between seasons and what better way to spend the time than with some good old prompt bingo?

Prompt bingo QLFC: 12 Grimmauld Place

Enjoy!

Untainted

Sirius scowled into the dark, narrow hallway in front of him. He couldn't believe that he was actually doing this. That he was actually here, in his childhood home. On his own.

Well, not for much longer. He chuckled darkly as he pushed the front door closed behind him. The soft click was followed by a whoosh-ing sound as charms and curses activated and rushed over him, checking and prodding him for his right to be there.

He took a cautious step away from the door, unsure of whether the protection surrounding his family home – he nearly laughed at that thought – would detect him as the runaway that he was, unwanted and unwelcome, but everything remained quiet. Even Kreacher, the house elf that lived at the hem of his mother's skirt stayed away.

Good for him, Sirius thought as his eyes travelled over the two pieces of furniture his mother had deemed worthy to be decorating the entrance hall to 12 Grimmauld Place. The coat rack that had to be older than the house itself stood rickety towards his left, as if unsure of whether or not it would actually be able to hold onto Sirius' jacket. Good thing he wasn't planning on staying long enough to get hot. If that was even possible in this dingy, unpleasant place. The other thing standing right next to the rack – something that Sirius had tried more than once to set on fire and failed miserably – was the probably ugliest umbrella stand he had ever had the unfortunate luck of setting his eyes on.

A hollowed-out foot of a troll. You didn't even need to have studied psychology to instantly understand that the person who had put it there with the full intention of keeping it was completely off their rocker.

Sirius scoffed and couldn't help himself but give the old thing a good kick. The sickening crunch coming from inside reminded him of the numerous times in the past when he had treated it the same exact way. To think that it was still in one piece and without a hole in its side showed him that his mother had wasted her magic to set up protection charms around it. Probably to keep it from falling apart. It had to be rotting inside by now.

He shook his head, once again overwhelmed by the sheer amount of insanity that was tainting the woman's mind before turning towards the stairs to his right. He hadn't come here to reminisce about the good old times of his oh-so-happy childhood. He'd come here to pick up that one thing that he didn't want anywhere near his toxic family.

He hurried through the narrow hallway, ignoring the doors leading to the kitchen, lounge, and library in favour of scurrying up the staircase that was framed with the heads of those poor house elves that had had the disrespect to age.

"Poor sods," Sirius muttered. He couldn't help the uncomfortable yet familiar shiver run down his spine as he hurried past them to the first storey, where he turned to the left and stopped in front of the first door. His eyes were locked on the metal sign hanging on the dark wood. "Sirius Orion Black." Burn marks and scratches around it told him that his loving family had tried cursing it off the door, but Sirius' sticking charm was one not to mess with.

As it would never let go of anything. That included door signs, Gryffindor memorabilia, as well as Muggle posters of beautiful and half-naked Muggle girls.

He grinned as he pulled out his wand, tapped it against the doorknob, and watched the dark wood swing open.

His room was a mess. His clothes were littered everywhere, piling out of his ancient wardrobe onto the floor. Posters of various sizes covered the dark wallpaper, trying desperately to introduce some life and humour into these dank four walls. It hadn't necessarily been a success, but everything was better than what usually awaited him outside of this room.

He bent down, reaching for a discarded Gryffindor scarf lying half beneath his bed as his back pocket started getting hot and a muffled voice came out of it. Still crouched on the floor, he reached back and pulled the two-way mirror out.

"All clear, Pads," James said, his hazel eyes staring right out of the mirror. "There's no one here, so we shouldn't run into too many problems on our way back out."

"You saying that now probably jinxed us, mate." Sirius grumbled as he pulled himself up off the floor and walked back the way he'd come from. "Just because my parents are in France doesn't mean that they didn't sick any of their purist friends on us."

"If they did, they would've stepped in the moment you entered the house."

Sirius paused on the last step, head tilted. "Huh. Yeah, you're probably right about that. I haven't met anyone with less patience than my parents' acquaintances." He lept off the stairs, hurried through the hallway, past the old troll foot, and pulled open the front door to an empty street.

"Welcome to number 12 Grimmauld Place," Sirius announced sarcastically before stepping aside. "The humble abode of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

The protection charms hummed threateningly.

"Bloody hell. I can already feel myself getting depressed!" James pulled off his Invisibility Cloak just as Sirius kicked the door closed behind them. "Did your parents ever think about maybe installing some sort of light ch— What the hell is that?!"

Sirius turned around just in time to see his best friend recoil at the sight of the preserved troll foot. He snorted. "That, my dear Prongs, is the taste of my mother. Don't worry, it gets worse."

Filled with new energy, now that his best friend had arrived, Sirius marched up the stairs, past the chopped-off heads of long-dead slaves, down the hall and towards his bedroom door that he had left slightly ajar.

"Don't take this personally, Padfoot," James said hesitantly behind him and even before saying it, Sirius already knew what his next words would be, "but I'm kind of relieved I was never allowed to visit you."

Sirius snorted softly. "Mother and Father were very articulate about who was and who wasn't welcome," he said before showing James into his room. "And I can happily admit that the Potters weren't part of that group. Because they only allowed insane folks to come and that would've meant they thought your family was as lost as mine is."

James shivered. "Ugh, yeah, no. I honestly doubt Mum and Dad would've let me come, even if I had been allowed to."

"Can't blame 'em."

"What did you want to pick up from here anyway?" James asked as Sirius pushed open the door just a little bit further to allow him to see the entirety of the small room. "What's worth risking getting caught?"

"My uncle Alphard's pocket watch." Sirius walked around the bed to the old bedside table that stood on the other side. It was made out of dark wood that had darkened over time to an almost black colour. Its shiny surface was reflecting the dim light of the scone above it.

As James failed to respond, Sirius' nerves got the better of him. "He'd inherited it from his father, Pollux Black." He glanced back at James, who stared back at him from where he was frozen in the doorway. "Dorea Black's older brother."

"Great-aunt Dorea?"

Sirius nodded slowly before tapping the bedside table with his wand. The small drawer sprang open, revealing what he had been looking for.

The pocket watch was a thing of beauty. Delicate engravings in the shape of vines covered the silver of the casing, twisting and turning, hugging the gems set into the material. He didn't need to open the lid to know that it was working as he could feel the warmth of magic seep out and right into his hand. This was what he had come back for. It wasn't just an old watch – he didn't even know how old it was, let alone care about that – but physical proof that someone bearing the Black family name had been able to cast magic so pure and light that it kept the cogs and hands moving over decades, never missing a second. This wasn't foul, twisted magic, the sort he was used to from his family. This magic was good, pure.

Untainted.

"Sirius?"

He blinked, having almost forgotten that he had company, and looked up at James, who had moved across the room to look out the window that showed a perfect view of the street down below.

"We've got a problem."

Dread swooped over him as he almost dropped the watch. He hurried to the window, feeling almost light-headed, and followed James' eyes. Three hooded figures were standing right in front of the house, staring up as if they knew exactly where to look. Decades ago, his grandfather had placed a Fidelius charm on this house to protect his family and elves from any suspecting Muggles and to allow them to live freely in the middle of non-magical London. That meant that someone out of the Black family had to share the location of the house for anyone to know where it was and to be able to see it in all its rather run-down glory. Those people knew where to look.

They could see the house and, in turn, them.

"Do you know them?"

James' voice was low, eyes still fixated on the small group. Sirius shook his head.

"I don't think I do," he said and squinted slightly in hopes of seeing more details. "If they'd take off their hoods, I might recognise them."

"Tough luck." James scoffed and stepped away from the window. "I doubt they'd do that, even if you asked nicely."

He walked through the room, looking at the walls and mess of clothes on the floor. "Do you have what you came here for?"

Sirius nodded, hand clutching onto the warm metal of the watch. The delicate chain connected to it dangled innocently at his side.

"Then let's go."

James turned on the spot and marched out of Sirius' childhood bedroom. "I'm guessing there are anti-Apparition wards set up?"

Sirius hurried after his friend, who was already halfway down the stairs. "Yeah," he puffed out, throwing a glare towards the door that led to his parents' bedroom. "As well as anti-Portkey ones."

James stopped in his tracks and turned back to his friend, eyes wide. "Anti-Portkey wards? That's really dark magic, mate."

"Don't you think I know that?" Sirius deadpanned before pushing past James. "The fireplaces are being watched ever since I called my parents some well-chosen curse words and left for good. They're a bit obsessive when it comes to staying in control."

He came to a stop next to the troll leg, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. "We're literally stuck in this hell hole."

James looked at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. "We're underage," he said emotionless before his eyes jumped to the front door. "That means we can duel our way out of here. At least we still have the cloak."

"The cloak that was barely big enough when we were kids, you mean?"

"Yes, that cloak or do you have another idea?"

He hadn't. Of course, he hadn't. Sirius scowled, causing James to smirk. "The cloak is our best bet if you don't want to actually go over and politely ask them to leave."

Sirius scoffed. "That would be just as successful as asking my mother to give me a kiss and tuck me in at night."

James shuddered and Sirius started laughing. "An image that will be stuck in my head forever now."

"Cheers to that!" Sirius cackled loudly. "Well? What're we waiting for? I want to breathe some oxygen and get the dust out of my nose. That thing is ruining my mood." He kicked the troll leg and the sickening crunch that followed hung in the air between them.

Regenerated and mildly disgusted, James pulled the cloak off his shoulder where he had been carrying it and whipped it around his shoulders, motioning Sirius to join him.

"Okay, here's the plan," he whispered softly as they slowly moved down the hall. "We get out of here as quickly as possible, hoping they won't notice the door open and close on its own and then… we walk to the Ministry and use their Floo network to get back home."

Sirius stopped walking, hand outstretched to reach for the doorknob, and stared blankly at his friend. "That," he said, "is the worst plan I have ever heard, but before you say it," he raised his hand to stop James from talking, "no, I don't have a better one, so we literally have no other choice but hope that although those people can clearly see this house and are staring intently at it, they will miss the front door open and close on its own, so we can just shuffle past them and walk through London in search of the Ministry's guest entrance for Muggleborns, which happens to be some random phone booth none of us has ever used before."

James winced at his deadpanned response. "The way you say it makes it sound pretty stupid."

"Or brilliant." Sirius shrugged and pulled the cloak closer around them so it wouldn't budge when they were in danger of being seen. "We'll see which one it is soon enough."

He pulled open the door, pushed James out and instantly pulled it closed behind them, but it was too late. The three cloaked figures across the street had started to move towards them.

"Maybe we should head to Diagon Alley instead," James whispered as they hurried down the steps, cautious to keep a hold of the cloak to not have it flutter around the legs to reveal their feet. "Damn, I can't wait to be of age…"

"Preach it, brother."

Sirius felt a hand curl around his forearm a fraction of a second before he was pulled to the side. He stumbled after his friend, narrowly avoiding the bright purple curse that collided with the door they had been in front of just seconds before. His heart was beating fast, yet he forced himself to not reach for his wand. He didn't want his parents alerted by the Ministry that their son had cast spells right on the premises of their home.

James cursed softly under his breath and pulled Sirius along with him. They hurried towards the gate that led out onto the street, hoping and dreading at the same time that the three cloaked wizards would open it so that they could get the hell out of there safely.

Or as safely as one could be when trying to dodge curses left, right and centre.

A breathy laugh escaped Sirius as the tallest and bulkiest of the bunch pointed his wand at the gate, blasting it right off its hinges and down the path leading up to the front door.

"I doubt Mother will appreciate that." He snorted softly at the mental image of Walburga Black throwing a fit upon their arrival and followed James on the heel as he snuck through the gate opening shortly after the three strangers had entered the Black's property.

They briskly walked down the street and around the corner that Sirius had used to stroll down to his favourite Muggle record shop. He had fond memories of that place, yet not so fond memories of the moments when he'd returned back home…

They came to a stop at the corner and turned around one last time. The three figures were standing on the path, looking in every direction, wands drawn.

"I can't believe how someone can look so threatening and bloody thick at the same time," Sirius mused loudly.

James snickered. "If there had been any doubts about choosing the Order of the Phoenix instead of the Death Eaters, this should be the proof that we've chosen the right side." He shook his head, amused, before turning around and tugging Sirius along with him. "Just half a year, mate," he said softly, eyes sparkling excitedly. "Just half a year until we're both of age and then we can help the cause."

Sirius nodded absentmindedly as his hand wrapped around the warm metal of the pocket watch that they had just risked their lives getting.

"Yeah," he said softly and looked over to his best friend. "It'll be dangerous but worth it."

James clapped him on the back, expression serious as he nodded. "So worth it."

Until next time - see ya! :D