4 September 1972

~Hermione McGonagall~

It was technically the first day of Second Year. While classes had started two days earlier, a pixie cage in care of magical creatures had been left ajar by a curious student and an infestation of the annoying little things had forced all the professors to talk about creature safety rather than their respective subjects. Hence, to Hermione at least, the fourth was the official start of Second Year.

After spending the whole summer studying, researching and religiously collecting books on anything related to alternate universes with Harry, she had a few things figured out. Sadly, none of them helped her figure out how to send them back to their world or make up Harry's mind about whether or not he wanted to go back at all.

Firstly, their original universe and the one they had landed in were similar in both magical and muggle history and politics, they seemed to have the same scientific advancements and even celebrities remained virtually undisturbed- except a few minor discrepancies. What surprised Hermione was their time travel and deaging. Although she supposed that the Time-Turner was responsible for the former, nothing in her dusted pages could explain the latter.

Second, Harry was being an idiot and had been refusing to try out for the Quidditch team all summer and that was something she needed to rectify before it was too late. Hermione wasn't a fan of the deadly game in any fashion but she knew it meant the world for her brother to retain something normal in his life. Especially when they were surrounded by ghosts.

Lastly, the two of them had no way to go back and needed to start living the second chance they were given. No more avoiding people who were long dead to them because they were alive again and Hermione wanted to know them. Most of them for the first time.

"Harry?" Hermione called from the kitchenette. "Do you want tea?"

"Some Earl would be nice." He answered, clearly distracted. When she dropped the ready mug in his hand, Harry eyed her suspiciously. "Alright, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing!" Hermione said defensively. "I just thought you could use the warmth."

He hummed as he took a sip, paling slightly at the flavour but continuing to drink regardless. Satisfied that it wasn't laced with anything like a sleeping draught, Harry went back to reading through the Quidditch magazine in his lap. Hermione tapped the handle of her cup anxiously, waiting for the right opening. As if he could sense her staring, he dropped the magazine unceremoniously on the cushion next to his legs and turned to her.

"Mya," Drawing out her nickname. "You're terrible at acting inconspicuous. Out with it."

"I think you should try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team." She said in a rush. "I think it would be good for you to have something outside of lessons and homework." and Voldemort.

The messy haired boy leaned forward on the couch, his elbows digging into his knees. "Are you, Hermione bloody Granger, asking me to-" He cut himself off abruptly at her wide eyes. "I'm sorry, love, I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay. I haven't been a Granger for a long time. Even before we landed ourselves in this mess." Hermione said, trying to pull a brave smile. "Without my parents I didn't feel much like I fit into that world anymore, Granger belongs to a family of dentists now. Nothing abnormal."

"I'm still sorry," Her brother said with hallowed eyes. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You can make it up to me by getting on the House team." Hermione told him in a voice that left no room for questions or defiance. "I want to see you flying again."

"I can't promise that I'll make it, my dad and Sirius are both trying out too." He said with a rueful shake of his head when she tried to speak. "But I promise to try and even if I don't make it on, I'll start doing laps around the field after classes."

"I suppose that's the best I can ask for, although I never thought I'd be pushing you to get on one of those bloody death traps to begin with." Hermione relaxed into the cushions and snuggled deeper into the pillows. Harry grimaced as he took another sip of the tea she'd made him. Rolling her eyes, she stood and held out her hand when Harry wrinkled his nose at it. "Give it, we both know I'm rubbish at making tea."

"Honestly, you're the worst English person." Harry grinned while handing over the offending beverage. "Thank you!" He called after her.

Hermione glanced down at the lukewarm leaf water in her hand in confusion, "You're thanking me for bringing you something that resembles and, I'm assuming, tastes like dried grass and day old bath water?"

"Absolutely not for that," Harry laughed. "For the Quidditch pressure. I know you hate it when I go out there."

Hermione dumped both cups into the sink and returned to her seat in front of her best friend. "You don't have to say thank you for that. I will still worry and cast a dozen safety charms on you but I love you too much not to force you to play. Do me a favour, please, at least attempt not to land yourself in Madam Pomfrey's care as often."

"I solemnly swear." Harry clicked his tongue when he heard the buzzing from his wand and turned to her with wide eyes. "How has your other project been going?"

"I'm starting to wish I had sat in with Snape while he made Remus' wolfsbane potion before each full moon. Since it doesn't exist yet, there's nothing for me to work off of except some barbaric experiments from over a decade ago and my own memory." Hermione sighed. "I just want to make his life easier while I can because everything gets so much more complicated from here. The war, horcruxes, rats, Death Eaters. Is it wrong to want a few less self-inflicted scars on a sweet boy?"

"No, I don't think it's wrong at all." Harry reached over to squeeze her hand. "It all seems so far away. The war, I mean, because nothing is happening at Hogwarts yet. But Remus suffers every month right under our noses and if you can find a way to help him…I know it would mean the world to him to be in control."

"I'm trying everything I can think of, Aunt Minerva is helping but she's not an expert at this sort of thing. I remember most of the ingredients- Aconite, Holy Water, Mandrake Root, werewolf blood, Burdock Root, Holy Thistle Leaves- but the quantities and brewing time aren't something Snape shared so that part is guess work." She frowned.

"You've got this, Mya," he said confidently. "How are you getting Remus' blood?"

"Madam Pomfrey. She has some on reserve for him after full moons since large doses of blood replenishing potion can make him sick." Hermione shook her head, curls snagged on her blouse buttons. "I thought I was more clever than this, I should have figured it out by now."

"You will, you're a bloody genius. Don't beat yourself up, love. The Remus we knew spent over half his life without it, even if it takes you another three years to brew it correctly, it will be more than he's ever had." Hermione nodded and smiled at her brother.

"You're right, I need to wait for the Mandrake to reach peak potion maturity before I can try again but I won't stop until I've got it."

The wand buzzed again. "Class starts in five minutes. We're going to be late!" Harry shouted as he blindly reached out to find his book bag.

"The one time you're actually worried about being late?" Hermione mumbles as she swung her bag over her shoulder. "Do I want to know why you suddenly care so much?"

"I've always cared, thank you very much." Hermione quirked her eyebrow.

Together they rushed down the empting corridors, past bemused paintings of elder witches and wizards and lost First Years. Hermione shouting for them to ask the portraits for directions to their classes before they missed too much, Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. He found some comfort in it. Same Hermione as always.

They were late to Transfiguration, but with Dumbledore still teaching, neither of them were afraid of getting detention. The clock chimed several minutes before the siblings tumbled through the door, tripping over their own feet. Every pair of eyes were on them as they bashfully took their seats in the far corner of the room.

"Well, now that we are all present, perhaps we can start today's lesson." Dumbledore said kindly, Hermione sunk further into her seat as Dumbledore's glinting eyes remained on her and Harry. "We are turning beetles into buttons!"

"Isn't that too low level for us?" Harry muttered under his breath, causing Hermione to chuckle quietly into her sleeve as she watched the other students.

"Start from scratch and all that."

Hermione watched the students tap their wands and recount the incantation, the degrees of success varied. Peter in particular was an odd case; he managed to mostly transform the beetle into a sleek black button on his first try. It would have been impressive if it weren't for the distinct insect legs sprouting from its sides trying to scamper away from him. It took Sirius two tries to transfigure the beetle and James was too busy staring at Lily to try the spell until an elbow to the ribs jarred him.

Hermione turned back to study her own little beetle. The creature sat in its glass container, poised to scurry away should she let her guard down. It was an ordinary bug, brown hard shell and beady eyes peering up at her, pinchers pointed towards her hand poised to attack. Hermione held the knob on top of its enclosure.

"Do not worry, Miss McGonagall, it is only a harmless insect." Dumbledore stood by her desk, hands folded neatly behind his back as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

She was suddenly aware of the several pairs of wandering eyes that were pointed in her direction. Hermione didn't know why it bothered her so much the way he looked at her but there was a building challenge in her stomach. Twisting and turning her insides.

Without opening the glass canister, Hermione waved her wand, arching it as she cast the incantation. Sitting there inside the glass was a single, perfect button.

12 September 1972

~James Potter~

James was sulking and everyone in Gryffindor Tower knew it. Not just from the muffled curses as he ran up the stairs to his dorm or the resounding slam when he reached it, but because of a certain redhead that had arrived a few minutes before him and stomped up the opposite staircase to the girls dormitories with a similarly sunny disposition. James' dormmates were also keenly aware of his sour moods when it came to Lily, from experience.

James crashed heavily against his headboard with a dramatic sigh, crossing and uncrossing his arms angrily, a growing tick in his jaw as Sirius recounted the day's events. Growling slowly under his breath when he heard the name, Lily Evans uttered. Just hearing the name made him picture the rolling emerald green eyes and bouncing red curls around her heart-shaped face. He wanted to be mad but it was Lily and, no matter how hard he tried, James couldn't bring himself to be angry so he would sit there and act mad until he actually was.

"So you asked her to come watch you at Quidditch tryouts?" James nodded vigorously towards the lanky boy perched on his bed. "You didn't do anything to warrant her reaction? Did you do or say anything else?" Remus questioned.

"No!" He shouted, at which point both Remus and Peter turned towards Sirius with suspicion, who nodded in answer to Remus' question.

"Yes, he did," Sirius said with a barely suppressed smile. Bloody traitor.

"Lily was absolutely smitten with me the whole time!" James continued saying with a smug grin, as if Sirius hadn't spoken at all.

"I somehow doubt that, mate," Peter said with a snort.

Remus looked at James dubiously before turning back to Sirius, who was sprawled over his own crimson satin sheets in clear amusement. "If that were true, you wouldn't be pouting in bed like a scolded First Year." Remus deduced, his voice light. "So, really…"

Sirius rolled his grey eyes and clarified James' mood, "They had another row in the hall. Lily screamed his bloody ear off right there in front of everyone. Called him a two faced, good-for-nothing, ignorant toe-rag and stormed off without a spare glance at the poor sod."

"And what did he," Remus pointed at James' offended expression. 'Do to earn her ire?'

"He called Snape 'Snivellus'!" Sirius grinned and Peter broke out in a restless fit of giggles before dropping his head into his pillow. Remus stared between his friends, all of whom were now laughing. "Come on, Remus! It's a little funny."

He shook his head and sat back in his cot with a roll of his eyes. "One day your childish disagreements with Snape over Lily are going to bite you in the arse. Mark my words, you will regret making that boy's life difficult."

"You need to have more fun, like James and Sirius. Snivellus is always a prat to us." Peter chided from his chair, an expression of admiration aimed at the dark haired boys. His legs tucked under him as he rolled a quill between his fingers. His head quickly turned back to the amused boys on their beds. "When are you two trying out for the House team anyways?"

"Nineteenth." Sirius sighed, his eyes latching onto the handle of his racing broom that stuck out from underneath his bed. "It's daft waiting two weeks before having them. Not like some bloke is going to gain the ability to play better and make it on a team at that time."

"I think it has more to do with the First Years learning how to ride and taking over the pitch," James watched Remus as he logically explained the delay. "Plus I heard that Madam Hooch has been trying to get McGonagall to buy new brooms since all the ones we have now are older models and considered unsafe for students to compete on."

"I guess that's as good a reason," James curiously asked, "Are you trying out too?"

"No, I can't. I would be gone too often." Remus shrugged, throwing off his robe with ease. His long legs stretched out in front of him as he reclined into his own bed after a long day of lessons. Remus ran a finger over the bridge of his nose. Where James knew was a faint, old and knitted scar Remus didn't talk about.

Sirius seemed to notice the stiffness in their friend as well and looked helplessly down at his socks, not knowing how to delicately breach the topic.

"Where do you go every month?" Peter's nose scrunched up and James could see the peculiar wonder behind his muddled blue eyes. "You always disappear and never answer any of our questions when you come back."

"I'm going to see my mum." Remus said tightly, his voice emotionless. The answer was practiced. Memorised. Like a mantra repeated any time they asked. "She's very sick, you see."

Sirius and James had gotten used to not asking any more questions about where Remus went and why he was always sporting new cuts and bruises when he came back, waiting for the right time to find out on their own or when Remus was ready to tell. It was the answer he had given them all throughout the First Year. Anytime James, Sirius or Peter would try to hatch Remus out of his book bound shell, the sandy haired boy seemed to only bury himself further. When they asked him to study for a Charms or Potions exam the night before, he would check his watch anxiously and mutter regretful words to get himself out of staying in the common room until the golden streams of lights faded through the windows.

I'm going home today, my mum's gotten worse. But maybe if you ask nicely, Frank and Dorcas could share their notes with you. They're at the top of their class so I'm sure they could lend you a hand with studying.

James and Sirius would have to drag their distracted best mate to Quidditch games because they knew Remus always wanted to go, but he got too caught up in a book and forgot what time it started. During every game they would cheer loudly, jumping and rooting for their favourite players. It was something they shared and enjoyed together. Except sometimes Remus would flinch from their touch, cowered away from their thunderous voices, and tell them that he couldn't go because he was visiting his mum that night.

I can't go to the game tonight, I'm leaving before curfew starts. I can't be late or I'll miss my ride out of Hogwarts and won't get to see my mum.

When the four of them had snuck into the kitchens after midnight for birthdays and often just because of Peter's sweet tooth, to try and bribe the elves to give up a few left over cauldron cakes, Remus would always laugh and lick the chocolate off of his fingers. Until one night, Remus had thrown up after just smelling the sweets and couldn't stomach even a bite of his favourite chocolate cauldron cake. James remembered asking him if he was okay and Remus' face contorting in shame and embarrassment before he stared down at his shaking hands with ire that James couldn't imagine seeing anywhere else.

I guess I'm the sick one now, eh?

Every time Remus would turn them away, James would become suspicious and concerned. A few days later, James would forget about his questions because once Remus was back, everything went back to normal. Then a few weeks later, it would begin again, a seemingly endless cycle.

From their places around their dorm, Peter and Sirius looked unconvinced. James wasn't entirely sure he believed Remus' flushed face either. Remus pushed himself further into the mattress, away from his friends' gaze, as if he could disappear if he tried hard enough.

"She gets sick a lot," Peter pressed not unkindly but the continued focus on his excuse made Remus visibly uncomfortable. "Is something else going on that you aren't telling us about?"

James chimed in quickly, hoping to lessen the tenseness of his friends shoulders. "I hope she feels better soon, mate. I know how anxious and moody you get before you go for a visit but if something else is the matter with her or you, I hope you know that we're your friends and you can tell us whatever it is. We'll be here for you, no matter what."

Remus smiled toothily, eyes crinkling in the corners, but James could read the uncertainty behind them. "I hope so too and I know, I promise that nothing else is wrong. Thank you, James."

The nonchalant posture in Sirius changed and he leaned away from his bed, studying Remus critically for a moment before nodding his head mindlessly. "Who do you think will make it on the Gryffindor team this year?" Sirius asked, changing the subject instead of pressing any further.

They slipped into easy conversation, discussing Quidditch like normal teenage boys should. Although the rest of the night was loaded with forced laughter between Sirius and Remus, James tried his best to keep it as light as he could and hoped to lessen the strangeness stuck between them. It was obvious that the boys knew Remus was lying to them about what was going on, or at least keeping a secret, but he wasn't ready to tell them.

Not only was James growing more concerned but he couldn't rid himself of the gut feeling that Sirius was suspicious about Remus' homelife just like he was. James also suspected that Sirius was judging from his personal experience with parents projecting their feelings physically, but he never brought it up. He wanted his best mates to tell him about things in their own time. James wouldn't pressure either of them into telling something they weren't ready to, but something about Remus told him that the time had come and gone for him to share.

There was still hope for Sirius to tell him about his homelife but there was that feeling again, that gwaning in James' gut that told him Sirius wouldn't share either.

Maybe it was time for them to take matters into their own hands and figure out Remus' secret on their own, after that he could deal with Sirius opening up about his family. If James had any say in it, both of his mates would be feeling more weightless before long.

"By the way," Remus mused hours later, the dying embers of the fire flickering across his features as the boys tucked themselves into bed. Peter had fallen asleep an hour earlier nestled in his pale sheets and thick blankets. "What exactly is a toe-rag?"

James shrugged and tapped his chin in thought, eyebrows bowing. "I'm not sure but it sounded like a compliment so I've decided to accept it as one."

"Potter, I don't think anything could sound like a compliment when being screamed by a furious girl." Sirius said. "Face it, you're getting nowhere with Evans."

Remus turned his light off and James watched him shift around until he found a comfortable position on his bed, fluffing his pillows several times and tucking the quilt under his chin with a sigh. Sirius chuckled before dropping back into his mountain of pillows with a content sigh.

"You look nice today!" James screamed suddenly towards Sirius, startling the dark haired boy and Peter surged at the loud noise and fell off his bed with a pained moan.

Sirius threw a pillow across the nightstand separating their beds, "Tosser!"

"What is wrong with the both of you?" Remus groaned.

19 September 1972

~Harry McGonagall~

Hermione didn't react when Harry woke her with a large, goofy grin and a colourful candle skewered treacle tart slice. He didn't know exactly how many to put on the sweet- was she turning twelve again or was she venturing close to her twenties? Hermione seemed to be in the same state of confusion so he had forgone the numbered candles. After a minute Harry, losing the smile plastered over his face, stepped further into her tidy room.

"I have to get ready for class," Mya muttered as she threw the duvet away off her legs and slid out of her bed, completely ignoring the offered sweets. "So should you."

Hermione pulled at her pyjamas, discarding them on her messy covers. The two of them had gotten over seeing each other change a long time ago, but Harry turned his face away to give her more privacy anyways. "It's your birthday! Plus we've done this before, you won't fall behind just because we decide to celebrate this morning instead of skipping off to Transfiguration."

Hitching her skirt up her legs and buttoning her blouse, Mya set her fingers on tying the crimson tie around her neck. "Technically, I won't be born for another seven years so it doesn't make sense to blow out candles and such."

"Technically or not, it's the nineteenth of September which means it's your birthday." Harry said tersely before taking a deep breath and continuing hopefully. "I know we haven't really celebrated our birthdays since Fourth Year, but we can start again. Maybe we can even talk Aunt Minerva into letting the elves bring us butterbeer."

Hermione turned, her face downcast. Harry hated seeing her wearing anything other than a smile on her face, to him at least, it didn't feel natural for her not to be happy. The thought seemed almost funny to him then. They had been through a war, their friends and family had been dying around them for years, and yet this was something utterly unbelievable to Harry. But Hermione had given up so much for him and it felt like so long ago that they'd just been happy for a moment.

Comfortingly, he pulled her into a bone crushing hug. "I want to celebrate you being alive."

"I know you do." Mya held him without question, burying her face in the muscle where his shoulder met his neck. "I think it would be nice to have something to celebrate again. Speaking of, aren't tryouts for Quidditch today?"

Sighing, Harry's thoughts drifted to his racing broom sitting vigil in the hall closet, a gift from Aunt Minerva, in hesitant want. He wanted to play again, he wanted to fly again without being chased by Death Eaters or Dementors or bloody spelled bludgers. "Yeah, they're later today."

Hermione smirked, "I promise not to turn your broom in if you go to tryouts."

Scoffing, Harry threw her book bag towards her. "Who would you report it to? Our aunt is the Headmistress and the broom was her gift to me."

Catching the heavy strap, Hermione groaned when the contents spilled over their common room floor. "You're a royal prat."

"Sorry," He blushed in embarrassment and bent down to help her collect her things. Mya cringed when he shoved a book into the bag without looking, her hands stopping his before Harry could do any more damage to her organisation. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled everything out again for her and placed it on the bed. "I'll see you in class?"

She waved him away with her hand, separating her things into little piles based on usefulness and the books went into a neat, alphabetical stack. He noticed that she placed The Tales of Beedle the Bard in the front pocket and zipped it up. "Hurry or you'll be late and I don't want us both in detention for your clumsiness."

"I'll see you soon," Harry called out as he raced down the stairs and stepped through the portrait hole. He waved at the ghosts within it and turned to head down the hall.

"Harry, wait!" He stopped before she had to chase him down any further. "You forgot your robe," Hermione held out the black material and rolled her eyes when he stuck out his tongue as a thank you. Honestly, he would forget where his head was if it wasn't attached to his shoulders or Hermione wasn't there to tell him where he'd left it.

Kissing her forehead lightly, Harry hurried the rest of the way down the hall before he turned and shouted, "Harry birthday!" Harry could hear her laughter follow him until he disappeared towards the moving staircases. The steps shifted and shook underneath his feet but he held the bannister until the movement stopped.

In the hall ahead of his class, Harry spotted a grinning James Potter as he strutted across the hall to where a peeved Lily Evans and glaring Severus Snape stood. It was odd to Harry, watching his father be rejected by his mother again and again. The constant confidence that James radiated was useless against Lily and it felt silly to imagine them married and having him in a few years.

Harry hid a grin as James swept his arms in a low bow in front of her, asking Lily if she would be his private tutor for Potions. Snape sneered and rolled his eyes while the hall of students laughed good-heartedly at James' newest attempt to woo Lily.

Lily huffed and shouted, "I would rather sit in a puddle of stinksap, Potter!"

"Even then you'd be the sweetest smelling Lily in all of Hogwarts." He blinked up at her from his little bow.

"I wonder how long it'll take before she gives in or he finally gives up, it's been months already!" A voice whispered close to Harry..

"I wouldn't count on either of them making it easy for the other," Harry whispered back without looking away from his parents. Lily marched down the hallway with a huff and Harry ducked into the Transfiguration room.

~Sirius Black~

He hadn't meant to sleep in, his mates were supposed to wake him up before breakfast but apparently the selfish pricks had decided to let him stay in bed all day and go to the Great Hall on their own. Sirius sniffled through his stuffy nose and wiped his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his robes again. It was ridiculous, he wasn't that unwell. A little cold wouldn't stop him from going to Quidditch after classes, even if Remus wanted to drag him to Madam Pomfrey and drug him into unconsciousness until he felt better.

Sirius rounded the corner, slightly swaying on his feet from the sudden turn. Supporting himself against the wall, he moved as quickly as he could towards Transfiguration. Dumbledore wasn't really a concern, he was nice enough but not really scary, McGonagall on the other hand was a nightmare. He shivered at the thought, and definitely not from a burning fever, Sirius reasoned.

Maybe he'd feel better if he sat for a minute, he was comfortable on the cold stone floor before he'd even finished the thought. He closed his eyes and his shoulders dropped as he sniffled. Vaguely, a little voice that sounded too much like Remus, told him that he was falling asleep in the middle of a hallways but his foggy brain couldn't care less.

"Happy birthday!" Sirius jumped as a jubilant boy ran past him, remaining oblivious to Sirius on the floor. He recognized him as his friend from the robe shop in Diagon Alley.

The black haired boy turned to where Harry had come from in curiosity, his sister stood in the middle of the stone hallway. Honey coloured curls flowing freely around her head. Mya's skinny arms crossed over her chest to keep away the morning chill and a wide smile over her face as she laughed at her brother. Sirius took notice of the open door behind her. The painting complained about leaving her hanging open.

Sirius curiously leaned further against the cool wall as he watched her walk back towards what looked to be her common room.

He knew she was a Gryffindor, even if she wasn't always sitting in front of him in lessons, he could see her scarlet striped tie from his little cove. Now that he really thought about it, he had never seen Harry or Mya in Gryffindor Tower and rarely at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall during meals. They were like classroom ghosts, coming and going with the professors. Sirius didn't see them talking with any of the other students either unless it was a forced partnership for a class, even then, Harry and Mya would often work around it and pair up with each other anyways.

A fit of throat searing coughs knocked him away from his thoughts and he shivered. Sirius felt the uncomfortable scratching in his throat worsen as he tried to gulp down air between hacks. Squeezing his watering eyes shut, Sirius tried to balance himself. Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders and Sirius swooned into the hands that reminded him of summer warmth. Cracking his grey eyes open and wincing away from the light, Sirius was met with the worried face of one Mya McGonagall. She smelled like old parchment paper and coffee.

"Are you alright, Sirius?" Sirius tried to nod but the hallway was tilting and spinning while the sun sent shocks into his eyes and made him flinch. "You're burning up!"

"I'm okay," He muttered trying to help her with his weight so she wouldn't have to drag him wherever Mya had decided to take him. "I have to go to class."

Mya hummed and squeezed his shoulder as she guided him along the hallway, "I know you mean Quidditch tryouts, you dolt."

She dropped Sirius as gently as possible on the couch at the far corner of the living room, his wide eyes taking in the room. Cream coloured wallpaper covered the bare walls and a rustic lit fireplace against the wall across from the door. The fabric couch was comfortable and covered with embroidered pillows in varying shades of blues and greens. The table was littered with rolls of text and thick, heavy-looking volumes that Sirius would never willingly pick up.

Mya disappeared into an arch for a few minutes and Sirius could hear the opening of cabinets and moving of glass vials. When she returned, her hands held out two small bottles to him. She sat on the edge of the cushion, by his extended legs.

"This is a sleeping draught, it will only last a few hours so you can make it to Quidditch tryouts on time." Uncorking it, she held out the amber liquid. The potion smelled clean and sweet. He reached for it and, without thinking about it too much, threw his head back to swallow the contents of the bottle.

He pointed to the other vial that she set on the corner of the table. "What's that one?"

Mya shook the flask of bloody looking slush. "Pepper-Up for when you wake up."

"Why don't you live in Gryffindor Tower?" He found himself asking, a slight slur to his words. Shifting his head to try and find a comfortable position on the mountain of pillows, Mya reached behind him to straighten them out for him.

Mya paused her preening and rolled her shoulders in indifference, "Having your aunt be the Headmistress has perks. Not having to share a bedroom with three other people is one of them."

"But don't you want to make friends?" Sirius' head was filled with pleasant fuzz and he couldn't focus on her. Her green eyes and fluffy hair blurred into the room around her until all he could see was the shining emerald colour. Soon he was snoring lightly, distantly he felt the drop of a fluffy blanket over him and he snuggled further into it.

Before he let sleep overtake him fully, Sirius decided that she was rather pretty, for a girl.

Sirius looked around the vaguely familiar room, pushing the blanket away from himself, he sat up. In the chair closest to the fireplace was another person. Wild hair in a loose braid and an uncountable number of loose tendrils falling over her shoulders and into her face, much to her obvious annoyance as she blew them away. Mya's legs were draped over the arm of the chair, hanging a few inches above the floor, and her eyes were shut.

Sirius remembered sitting in the corridor, the swimming vision and the kind girl with her own common room. Sirius heard the chime of the clock from the tower and realised how long he had been asleep on Mya's couch. He made a note that he should be more weary towards draughts given to him by just anyone.

Classes were over and that meant Quidditch tryouts would be starting soon!

Not wanting to wake her after she had taken care of him all day, Sirius quietly collected his school bag and abandoned the robe. His head hurt a little but it was only an uncomfortable ache, not the pressure of an oncoming migraine like it had been in the morning. He spotted the second vial Mya had prepared for him. And, thinking he would be better off playing with it rather than the headache, Sirius knocked back the Pepper-Up potion she'd left for him.

Before Sirius could sneak out of the room, he remembered what he had heard in his feverish state before Mya had come to his rescue.

"Happy Birthday!" Harry had shouted at her as he ran down the hall.

It was Mya's birthday and she had spent it in her living room; watching over a sick and sleeping boy she knew in passing and sleeping in a chair. Digging in his bag he pulled out a medium sized box of Honeydukes sugar quills. They were a sweet mixture of strawberry and chocolate, his personal favourite. They were supposed to be a gift for Remus since he loved anything chocolate and constantly bit at his own, ink filled quills. Then again, Sirius thought Mya deserved a birthday present from him after she'd spent the whole day taking care of him.

He left the colourful box on the couch cushion and closed the door behind him tightly.

The halls were filled with eager students hurrying towards the pitch, either to watch or try out. Now in better health, Sirius weaved through the crowd without a second thought. A buzz of growing adrenaline in his veins as he thought about what it would feel like to be flying on his broom and hopefully wearing the Gryffindor team colours soon.

When he reached the changing room, Sirius quickly swapped his robes for the padded Quidditch outfit provided by Madam Hooch. Sirius raced out into the sunlit playing field with an excited grin. There were at least a dozen Second Years who wanted a spot on the red and gold team, the older kids would be trying out another day. The stands weren't occupied, people choosing to sit on the grass for a closer look instead.

"Hey!" James waved him over, protective gear covering his lanky figure from head to toes. "We didn't think you would make it out today."

"You look better," Remus supplied. "You don't look ready to drop in a puddle of drool anymore and from what I can see, you're no longer ready to blow over from a light breeze."

Outraged at such an outlandish accusation, Sirius huffed. "I do not drool, Remus Lupin, nor will I blow over!" Sirius repeated with a cheeky grin.

Remus pushed his gear cocooned chest jokingly. "Tell that to the Charms homework you ruined a fortnight ago when you nodded off."

Ignoring James and Peter as they mouthed to one another about how ridiculous their friends were and waved their arms between them with over-exaggeration. Sirius bared his chest like a proud peacock showing off his battle wounds. "If you didn't want it to be slept on, dear Remus, you shouldn't have left it on my bed."

Remus sighed overdramatically as he began enunciating his words, his voice obnoxiously loud as he shook his head theatrically. "Which is why I didn't, I left it on my bed. On the other side of the room from yours. Perhaps you should check which bed it is you're crawling into at night before you make yourself comfortable."

"Potato, Patato." Sirius quoted an upset Lily from their Potions class earlier that week.
"My bed, your bed, James' bed. Not like they aren't exactly the bloody same except for a slightly different shade of Gryffindor pride."

James stuttered, not expecting to be pulled into their conversation. "Sirius, are you colourblind? The 'shades' are red and gold. And your bedsheets are black." Sirius waved him away with his hand, mumbling something about not knowing the difference in the dead of night.

"Name one person who says 'patato' conversationally and I will cut off my foot and swallow it whole." Remus said with a completely serious expression.

Before Sirius could think of any of their muggle-born housemates who could possibly use the word, Remus and Peter were pushed off to the side and away from the large group of padded boys and girls ready to play. One after the other, they all took to the crystal clear blue sky, all of them lifting off easily enough to satisfy Madam Hooch. Sirius easily spotted the familiar back of Harry McGonagall's messy caramel head. The boy looked like a natural, his body perched forward and stiffly waiting for the start of their practice game.

"I want a nice, clean game from you!" Madam Hooch shouted up at the poised players, divided into two teams to play a friendly tryout, before she blew her whistle. "Game On!"

James veered to the left, bowing low against the current created by the other fliers. Sirius spun away from a bludger and watched it whiz past his head and crash into the handle of Frank Longbottom's broom, almost knocking him off the magical wood. Avoiding several Second Years who were either too scared to try scoring or were looking down trying to find a safe place to land, Sirius gripped his broom with a deathly grip and narrowed his eyes through the sky, searching.

The quaffle soared through the air and missed Sirius by only a few centimetres, landing gracefully into James' outstretched arms. Together, they flew quickly past the opposing players, smoothly looped between them, passing the ball between them with ease. Sirius arched his arm back and aimed for the left hoop, the Keeper dove but the quaffle rang through the golden circle, barely brushing the Keepers fingers.

Sirius pumped his fist towards James with a wide grin over his face, energy swirling into his body as they continued to guard each other. James remained ahead, which was perfect with Sirius, he was better at watching his best mate's back than leading a charge. They moved in sync through the sky. Marlene McKinnon had joined them and stuck to their open side, whacking away any bludgers that came near them with a leather wrapped bat.

Sirius heard Marlene's voice on his side, "Dive left!"

The three of them scooped towards the ground. A bludger hot on their trail, Marlene jerked horizontally behind them as Sirius and James came back up to face the goals. Sirius glanced back to see her gracefully batter the ball in the direction of another player before rising quickly to their level and lagging behind to watch their back for more. The air bit at Sirius' face, burning his eyes the faster he went but the exhilarating feeling was worth watery eyes. When their quaffle landed into the middle hoop, Sirius could hear the joyful screams drifting up from the spectators on the ground.

Before his small team could regroup, Madam Hooch called them to a halt, "Harry McGonagall has caught the Golden Snitch! The game is over! All players please return immediately to the ground and expect results within the month."

Sirius was radiating happiness when his feet landed on the mushy grass. His eyes scanned the crowd when he caught a quick glimpse of his younger brother next to a group of Slytherins, his black hair short and spiked away from his face. Eyes wide as he had been watching his older brother show off his flying skills. Not for the first time since Regulus came to Hogwarts, Sirius wanted to go and give his kid brother a hug but held himself back because of the other Slytherins hanging around.

James panted next to him, "Did you see that?"

"You were amazing!" Peter clapped as Sirius pushed his sweat drenched hair away from his face. "Sirius, that spin you did was mental! I don't know how you managed to hold on!"

"Thanks, Peter, it's all in the wrists and thighs." Sirius twisted his hands, the bones popping. He turned away from his brother, eyes downcast.

In the corner of his eye he saw Harry, still perched on his broom and hand curled around the golden ball wiggling between his fingertips. Mya waved him down with a bright smile and a little part of Sirius wondered if she would say anything to him about his incident in the hallway, his stay on her couch, or maybe the gift he had left her.

A pair of fingers snapped in front of his distracted face. "Sirius? Are you even listening to us? I thought compliments were how you managed to stay young and beautiful." James joked, an arm slung over Sirius' shoulders.

He pulled away from the scene of Harry and Mya embracing. "What was that, Jamie? I thought I heard you badmouth the next Gryffindor Chaser."

"I asked if I could have a sugar quill." Remus said, looking at him oddly, as he pulled his attention away from James. "Please?"

Sirius' eyes were subtly drawn back to the girl with coiled chocolate hair, Mya caught his eye and sent him a saccharine smile and Sirius responded in kind, although he knew his wasn't as bright. "Sorry, mate, I ran out this morning."

Remus shrugged at his friends before asking, hopefully, "We could go down to the kitchens and celebrate with whatever sweets the elves have?"