A/N: Third year! Well, sort of. Summer before third year, at least. Thank you to my reviewers! You bring me so much joy! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do. Not much happens, but I love it anyway. James and Sirius are probably my favorite pairing to write at this point and this is an entire chapter of the two of them.

A quick note... Our characters are growing up and the story will be growing up along with them. The language will start to be a bit coarser at times. In my experience, nobody has dirtier mouths than teenage boys among their friends. If you're offended by that, or other normal teenager-y things, this may not be the story for you. That being said, I aim to keep this rated T throughout.

Other disclaimer: Everything you see here is the property of J.K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, or the magical world in which he resides.

Chapter 22 - 3.1 or "A Proper Pureblood Family"

The summer sun was dipping below the tree line and casting a warm, golden shadow across the grass; the birds were singing merrily; he had an icy glass of pumpkin juice in one hand and a Muggle magazine in the other and Sirius could not remember ever being so happy outside of Hogwarts. He and James were sitting in the shade of a large oak tree in the Potters' massive garden, the heat of the day starting to fade as a pleasant breeze tickled their faces. James was clipping bent twigs off of his Cleansweep while the wireless next to them broadcasted live a match between the Wimbourne Wasps and the Montrose Magpies. Sirius's attention to the voice emitting from the speakers was inconsistent at best, as he sipped his pumpkin juice and flipped lazily through the glossy magazine he had purchased in the village that morning.

Sirius had arrived at the Potters' two days prior, so elated at his escape from Grimmauld Place that he had barely stopped grinning since. When the owl from James's mother had been received a week before, inviting Sirius to stay for as long as he wished, Walburga Black had pondered it only for a few hours before granting him permission to go, with the only stipulation being that he would need to return to Grimmauld Place for the last week of summer to report back. This meant that Sirius was now facing an entire month free of his family, with nothing to distract him from wholly enjoying the hazy days of summer alongside his best friend.

Their first order of business once reunited was to visit Diagon Alley, where Sirius was eager to exchange half of the Galleons his mother had given him (intended, of course, for finest new school robes) for Muggle pounds. Mr. Potter had accompanied him into Gringotts and seemed slightly surprised at Sirius's insistence that he needed the pounds so that he could buy himself some Muggle clothes. James, who had worn Muggle clothes for much of his life, found the whole thing very amusing. The next morning, James's parents had allowed the boys to wander up to the village at the top of the hill by themselves, where Sirius had proceeded to spend the vast majority of his money on new Muggle clothes and a stack of Muggle magazines, just for extra measure.

"And Smithey loops around Spaulding, who knocks the Quaffle free. It's Spaulding now, racing up the pitch towards the hoops, but she's knocked off course by an excellently aimed Bludger courtesy of Ludo Bagman, and the Wasps have retaken possession…"

"Come on, come on," muttered James, pausing in the middle of clipping a particularly stubborn twig to listen hard to the broadcast. "Get the Quaffle to Kittering, you idiots…"

Sirius took another sip of his pumpkin juice, which Flora had added a splash of lemonade to for a fresh twist, and flipped through his magazine. It had been an impulse purchase in the village, every page filled with photos of gleaming Muggle cars and motorbikes or articles detailing how to care for them and the new features they offered.

"Smithey to Becker, who lobs it back to Smithey, who drops it down to Kittering, it's Kittering toward the goal, only one man to beat…KITTERING SCORES! And the Magpies call a time out, the Wasps leading eighty to sixty. And we will be back after these short messages on the Wizarding Wireless Network."

"Ha!" said James proudly, turning back to his broomstick as advertisements began blaring out of the wireless. "Told you. Kittering should be touching the Quaffle on every possession…not sure why they have Smithey set as lead Chaser today…seems like a terrible strategy against the Magpies' defensive line…"

"Whoa," said Sirius loudly, his eyes glued to the magazine page he had just flipped to, which was an advertisement for car tires. The image featured a gleaming red sports car with two gorgeous Muggle girls draped across it, wearing very short shorts and even more revealing tops. At the top of the page, in a loopy typeface, the slogan read, "Roll With It."

"Whoa is right," James said, tossing his broomstick aside and moving closer to gaze at the girls, his mouth open slightly. "Good Merlin…"

"Do you think they're Muggles?" asked Sirius, his eyes raking over the page.

"Suppose so. Why wouldn't they be?"

"I've never seen Muggles looking like that before."

James laughed and reluctantly tore his eyes away from the photo to turn back to his broomstick. "I've never seen anybody looking like that before."

A catchy jingle was coming out of the wireless now, it's simple tune drifting across the garden. "Got a rat's nest head or a mess of a mop? Sleekeazy's is there for you with just one drop!"

James groaned loudly and reached out to turn the volume down on the wireless. Sirius looked up from the Muggle girls and gave him a questioning look.

"Don't like that jingle?"

"You wouldn't either if you had grown up in my house."

"Why's that?"

James frowned at him, confused by the question. "Because my dad invented Sleekeazy's, didn't you know?"

Sirius searched his brain, trying to recall if he had ever heard that bit of information before. Then he gave up and shrugged. "I knew he was a potion-maker, but you never mentioned Sleakeazy's in all your bragging about your dad."

"Huh," replied James, turning up the broadcast again now that the advertisement was over. "Well I've been hearing those jingles since I was born. For a while when they were doing rebranding, my dad barely ever stopped singing them, just to annoy Mum and me. You know the one, 'Two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet, oh gosh darnit!'? That one's the worst."

"Seems a bit ironic, mate," said Sirius, smirking as his eyes roamed over James's hair, which was sticking up in every direction as usual. "That your dad invented a hair potion, I mean."

"Ha ha," said James. "His hair's no better than mine. Why do you think he was experimenting in the first place?"

"So that's why you're so rich, then? Because of Sleekeazy's?" Sirius asked blatantly, knowing that talking about money had never made James remotely uncomfortable.

He shrugged. "Guess so. I think most of my family's been inventing potions for ages, even before my dad, though. You'd have to ask him."

"Your grandfather too?" Sirius knew that James had been very close with his grandfather before his death and had always wondered what that would be like – to have family members who you were actually excited to see and sad to see go.

James bit his lip as he thought about this. "I'm not sure if my grandpa ever did much with potions. He was on the Wizengamot for a while, I think, but he never talked about it much."

"And your mum's a Healer, right?"

"Was. She hasn't worked since before I can remember." He paused and stretched out – apparently satisfied now with the uniform direction of the twigs on his broomstick tail – and grinned at Sirius. "You're asking a lot of questions. Gathering information on the Potters to report back to your mum?"

Sirius barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Just curious. I've never known anyone's pureblood mum to have a job before, and even most of the old pureblood wizards don't work much, do they?"

James pondered this. "Really?"

"Before Hogwarts, the only person I knew who had a real job job, like with a title and everything, was Avery's dad…he's high up in the Ministry somewhere." James sniggered and Sirius frowned at him. "What's so funny?"

"The idea of you and that prat Avery being mates once upon a time."

This, of course, was a sore spot for Sirius, but he had never let on to James just how sore. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "We weren't mates. Our parents are chummy, so they'd always try to get us to be friends…"

"Yeah, well, that worked out about as well as them trying to get you to be a Slytherin." Sirius said nothing, and James must have noticed his discomfort, for he let the subject of Marshall Avery drop. "You really think most purebloods don't have jobs?"

"Nah," said Sirius. "Not old money in the high circles. They're all just…connected…or something. My Aunt Lucretia once got a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but that was just because she thought she'd be allowed to arrest Muggles for no reason at all, so she quit after three days when she discovered that wasn't the case. I've never known anybody in my family to really work for a living. My dad's always just traveling, taking meetings at the Ministry or in foreign cities with random wizards I've never heard of, bringing home sacks of gold, you know how it is." He tried to keep his tone light, to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but James was now studying him with a troubled look on his face.

"Is your dad as bad as your mum?"

Sirius had never talked to anyone about his father before and he fidgeted again, staring resolutely at the hedges in the distance. "He's not around as much as her…doesn't yell like she does…but, yeah, he's just as bad."

James said nothing. The Quidditch match had resumed at some point in their conversation but neither of them was paying any attention to it. Sirius raised his glass to take another sip of his pumpkin juice before realizing his glass was empty.

"Well, if it helps, I don't care what you tell them about me, if it'll keep them off your back," said James. "You can make up whatever they want to hear, it doesn't make any difference to me what they think of me."

"Thanks," said Sirius, still gazing off into the distance. "Part of me wants to tell them you're the biggest Muggle-loving blood traitor in history just to brass them off. But part of me thinks that being here beats being there, and they'll only let me visit you over the holidays if they think you're from a proper pureblood family."

"And by 'proper,' you mean…"

"You know, thinking all Muggles and Muggle-borns are scum. Thinking that being pureblood makes you naturally royal or something."

"Ah, yes," James said in an exaggerated, snooty voice. "Naturally."

Sirius chuckled. They lapsed into silence, the broadcast drifting across the garden.

"And Smithey – of course the ten-year veteran out of Leeds – racing up the pitch, ducks a Bludger…drops the Quaffle to Becker, who swerves Spaulding…and nice bit of defensive work there by the Magpies as Becker fumbles the Quaffle…recovered by Spaulding…I'm not sure what the Wasps are thinking with this scheme…there's no reason Kittering shouldn't be touching the Quaffle every possession as their usual lead Chaser, but they've switched Smithey in for the match…"

"That's what I said!" James exclaimed, as if vindicated by the wireless announcer agreeing with him.

Mrs. Potter's voice rang out from the doorway to the house and they both turned toward her. "James, dear! Sirius! Time to come in and wash up for dinner boys!"

"But Mum," James whined, "no one's caught the Snitch yet! We'll miss the end of the match!"

Mrs. Potter took a few steps into the garden toward them so she wouldn't have to continue shouting. She frowned at him. "I know, dear, but Flora made your favorite – shepherd's pie – and you don't want it to get cold do you?"

"I don't care if it's cold! I want to hear the end of the match!"

"Well, ten more minutes, then, and if you don't come in, we'll just give Sirius your helping and see how much you like it," she said, smiling warmly at Sirius who grinned back at her. She had been much more welcoming and affectionate toward Sirius on this visit than she had been the last time he had stayed with them and he had tried to be on his best behavior to show his appreciation.

When she disappeared back into the house James sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Hopefully they catch the Snitch soon, or else they'll be playing into the night, but there's no way I'm missing the end of the match just for dinner."

Sirius fought not to roll his own eyes, but said nothing, and when their ten minutes was up and they were summoned again, he walked happily into the Potters' house, James grumbling behind him.

The next day dawned just as sunny and hot as the prior, so after lunch, James suggested that they make the twenty minute trek to a large, shady lake, where his grandfather had taken him swimming as a child. By the time they reached it, the sun was high in the sky and hot on their necks, and the lake water felt so cool and refreshing that both of them simply floated on their backs for several minutes, reveling in the fresh water lapping at their sides.

The lake was nestled partially on the edge of a small forest, so that half of it was pleasantly shaded by towering trees with mossy limbs jutting out over the water like canopies. The other half seared under the direct summer sun, bleeding out onto a small, rocky beach, where tanned teenagers rubbed oil onto their blistering skin. As expected on such a hot day, it was crowded with swimmers of all ages, though the vastness of the lake still afforded it a secluded, peaceful atmosphere despite the gathering.

The boys whiled away the afternoon splashing in the water, racing one another from shore to shore (James was the better swimmer, but Sirius had longer limbs, so they were well-matched), and daring each other to do more and more outrageous jumps off of an overhanging tree limb. By the time the sun had crept down toward the tree tops, they had both perched on top of the tree limb, their fingertips shriveled and their shoulders pink. James was leaning against the trunk of the tree, his legs stretched out in front of him toward where Sirius sat near the end of the branch, his feet dangling toward the water and his eyes surveying the Muggles who were left swimming in the long shadows.

"We should come back tomorrow," James said, pulling his glasses off to wipe a few water droplets off of the lenses with his shorts. "And we can bring a rope so that we can get up to that branch up there."

He pointed to a limb hanging from the tree next to them which was significantly higher than the one they were currently perched on. Sirius's eyes followed James's indication and he grinned at the thought of diving into the water from so high up. "Can you imagine what Peter would say if you dared him to jump from up there?"

James laughed out loud and resettled his glasses on his nose. "He'd probably faint. He doesn't even know how to swim, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Sirius said, remembering their sojourn in the Hogwarts lake the year before. "We'll have to teach him when he and Remus come in a few weeks. It'd be good for him."

"I bet Remus would jump it, though," said James, still craning his neck to stare at the branch so far above him.

Sirius nodded, turning his gaze back to a group of Muggle girls who were sitting on the beach. "He would now, not when we first met him." He paused before completely changing the subject. "Hey, have you ever talked to a Muggle?"

James looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Have you ever talked to a Muggle? Like had a conversation with one?"

"Yeah, of course," replied James, his brow lowered in confusion at the question. "We live in a Muggle village. We used to have dinner with a group of Muggles down the street every once in a while. My parents are friends with loads of Muggles. Why? Have you?"

Sirius shook his head. Since arriving at Hogwarts, he had had a nagging feeling that he had missed out on a lot of normal experiences growing up because of the twisted views of his parents. They had told him every chance they got that Muggles were beneath them, that they were filthy and unworthy of a second glance. And while he had realized how warped their views were when he met his friends, he had never actually been around a Muggle for more than a few minutes.

"Not really. Not other than ticket takers and shop assistants and the like."

James was watching him closely, a slow grin spreading across his face when he looked out over the water, to where the Muggle girls sat on the beach. He looked back at Sirius.

"What?" asked Sirius, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"I dare you to go talk to those Muggle girls."

Sirius swallowed and looked back toward the girls. There were four of them and, at least from a distance, they looked to be about his age. He didn't know what to say to a Muggle, but James was still grinning at him, egging him on, and Sirius had never backed down from one of James's dares. Taking a deep breath, and without another word to James, Sirius pushed himself off the branch and dove into the lake.

Once his head broke through the surface of the water, he grinned and shouted up to James, who was still perched on the tree limb above him. "Come on, then, unless you're too scared?"

James didn't need telling twice. He pulled his glasses off with one hand and followed Sirius into the water, the surface of the lake swelling and lapping when he splashed into it. Sirius set off for the shore, swimming easily and feeling both nervous and excited, wondering what he was supposed to talk to Muggles about. His mind was blank, though, and by the time his feet hit the sloping, rocky ground he had still not come up with anything and figured he'd just have to improvise.

The group of girls watched them as they climbed out of the water. Closer up, Sirius noted that two of them were at least a few years older than him and James, and looked at them with mild annoyance as they approached. The other two were younger and gazed at the pair of them with what seemed to be cautious interest.

"Hello," he said, angry at himself for feeling so nervous.

"Hi," said one of the younger girls. She had thick dark hair that fell below her shoulders and fringe that tickled her brow.

"Who are you?" asked one of the older girls with a note of impatience.

"Oh. I'm Sirius, and this is my mate, James. We noticed you from across the way. Just wanted to stop by to say hello."

"Hey, I know you!" said the dark hair girl, her eyes raking over James in recognition. "You're the Potter boy…lives on the other side of the village down the hill. You played football a few times with us when we were kids, do you remember?"

James was wiping the water off of his glasses again and paused to look at the girl. "Oh yeah, I remember that. That was ages ago!"

"I'm Elizabeth, and this is Maria," she said, indicating the other young girl, who was slight and blonde. She then pointed to their older companions, who were still looking annoyed at the boys' intrusion. "That's my sister Kate and her friend Sarah."

Sirius nodded at them all in turn, but Kate stood up suddenly and spoke to Elizabeth. "It's time to go, Liz. We have to get home for supper."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, looking put-out. "You go ahead, Maria and I will catch you up in a few minutes."

The sister rolled her eyes, but packed her towel away in her bag and waited for Sarah to do the same. Sirius and James both sat down on the rocky beach and watched them, Sirius shaking his dripping hair out of his eyes, his nerves starting to fade a bit. They were just Muggles. It was no different talking to them than talking to girls at Hogwarts…they would just have to be a bit more careful with what they said.

"Two minutes," the sister Kate said to the brown-haired Elizabeth. "We'll wait for you at the end of the path."

Elizabeth shrugged and smiled sweetly at her older sister. "We'll be there shortly, Mum."

The older girls stalked away, winding their way along the lakeshore and onto a path that led through the trees.

"Sorry about her," Elizabeth said brightly. "She can be a bit of a hypocrite. I can't tell you the number of times I've had to wait around for her while she's chatting blokes up." She paused and then eyed Sirius. "Are you from around here, too? I don't think I've noticed you before."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm from London. Just visiting James here for the month."

"You don't go to Bishop, though, do you?" asked the girl called Maria, speaking for the first time. She was cuter than her friend Elizabeth, and had an airy, pixie-like look to her, with her blonde hair falling just below her ears. Sirius eyed her appreciatively and assumed that Bishop was the name of the local school.

"Er, no," answered James, looking somewhat awkward. "We go to school up North…erm, Hog – Hollings."

Elizabeth frowned, her brow lowered in concentration. "Hollings? Don't think I've heard of it."

"What year are you?" James asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Year nine," Elizabeth said, which completely confused Sirius. He glanced at James, who also seemed confused by this answer.

"Oh, us too," he lied, hoping they would not continue questioning them about school.

"Do you still play football?" Elizabeth asked James.

He shrugged. "Not much. What about you?"

"Oh yeah, both Maria and I play on the school team. We won the league last year."

"Brilliant," said James, who seemed to find her interest in sport – even a completely different sport from Quidditch – to be common ground. "What position do you play?"

"I'm midfield and Maria's our best forward." She paused and then glanced over to the other side of the lake, where her sister was waiting for her. "We'd better get going, though, before Kate has a fit."

"We'll probably be back tomorrow," said Sirius, smiling at Maria, who blushed and looked away. "If you're around, we'll pop by to say hello."

The girls stood up and packed up their things. "Nice chatting," said Elizabeth, once her bag was slung over her shoulder. "See you around."

James and Sirius waved at them as they walked around the lake and toward where the older girls were still waiting for them. James looked over at Sirius and raised his eyebrows.

"See? It's not so bad, talking to Muggles. Now I've just got to go learn more about football…"

"Not so bad," Sirius agreed, watching Maria's small, retreating form and trying not to smirk when she turned half-way around the lake to look back at them. "I think I could get used to this talking-to-Muggles business."

The boys went back to the lake nearly every day for the next two weeks, where they met up with Elizabeth and Maria a handful more times. Despite the obvious fact that they had very little in common with the Muggles, they had come to the realization early on that Muggle girls – perhaps similar to witches – liked nothing more than to talk about themselves. James had indeed learned much more about football (taking a page out of Sirius's book and buying some Muggle magazines about the subject) and was entertained by Elizabeth's ardor for the sport; Sirius, meanwhile, flirted shamelessly with Maria, who seemed to be in a constant state of blushing whenever he was around. When they got bored, they would say their goodbyes and go back to climbing higher and higher among the overhanging tree branches, from which they would then make spectacular dives into the icy lake water.

The day before Remus and Peter were set to arrive found James and Sirius lying flat on their backs in the Potters' garden. They had spent the morning on the makeshift Quidditch pitch, playing a sort of one-on-one Quidditch that James referred to as 'Knock,' for reasons unknown to Sirius. Sirius acquiesced easily whenever James beseeched him to play, but much preferred racing or diving contests to the Chasing and Keeping required of him in Knock. The fact that James was head and shoulders better than him at the game made it a little less fun, anyway.

They had decided not to make the trek to the lake that day, as the dark clouds overhead had been threatening rain since morning, though no downpour had yet been uncorked. In their boredom that afternoon, and after Sirius insisted that he needed a break from all the flying, they had developed a new game, and were now both pointing their wands skyward at a dusty red Quaffle and James's old Shooting Star (under no circumstances would he allow them to use his Cleansweep for these purposes). James flicked his wand and the Quaffle darted forward toward the broomstick, which Sirius was controlling. With a quick wave of Sirius's wand, the broomstick struck out against the Quaffle, causing it to soar away and land on the ground some twenty meters away with a thump.

"Ha!" said Sirius, raising his head up from the grass just enough to watch the Quaffle roll toward the edge of the garden. "That beats your shot easy."

James frowned and summoned the Quaffle back to him. "All right then, let me see if I can get it past the hedges over there."

Sirius flicked his wand and the Quaffle soared back skyward once more, toward the floating broomstick, which batted at it and missed.

"No fair," James said as Sirius laughed. "You did that on purpose."

"Okay, okay. Try again, I'll go easy on you this time."

James snorted. "You're a smug git now that you're out of the air, you know that?"

Sirius just laughed and flicked his wand. Once again, the Quaffle leapt toward the broomstick, which this time made contact with it. They both watched as the red ball arced toward the hedges, falling to the ground just in front of them. This game continued on for a while, both of them egging the other on as the broom hit the Quaffle farther and farther away.

"I think that Liz girl fancies you," Sirius said out of the blue, his eyes following the graceful arc of the red ball toward a large oak tree.

James glanced at him, his ears turning pink. "What makes you say that?"

Sirius tried not to grin as he summoned the Quaffle back to them once more. "She's barely said two words to me the last few days and, I don't know…the way she follows you around and hangs on your every word…"

"Yes well, I'm very interesting, didn't you know?" joked James, the broomstick taking a swing above them and hitting the ball at an odd angle, so that it dropped only a few feet from them.

"You should snog her," Sirius said easily.

James sputtered. "What?"

"Before the end of the summer. You should snog her. I bet she'd be down for it."

Composing himself, James summoned the Quaffle back once more and lobbed it up toward the broom. "Not everyone just goes around snogging girls randomly like you, mate."

"I do not snog girls randomly. I have kissed one girl two times."

"Yes, but you don't even like that one girl."

"Sure I do." James gave him a disbelieving look and Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "I like Gin plenty. I mean, she's the best looking girl in our year."

"Is she?" asked James weakly, directing his wand so that the broomstick spun around in a full circle before smacking into the Quaffle. "Evans is pretty good looking, you know? And Adin, I suppose."

"Adin's a tad annoying, yeah? And Evans might be a touch mad, what with hanging round Snape all the time," Sirius said.

"Well Gin's not exactly what you'd call normal."

Sirius frowned. For some reason, this statement rankled. "She just likes to keep to herself I guess."

James laughed and flicked his wand once more. "She doesn't keep her lips to herself."

"Sod off," muttered Sirius. "And why are we talking about Gin, anyway? What about that Liz girl?"

"What about her?"

Sirius paused for dramatic effect before revealing the ultimate trump card. "I dare you to kiss her before the end of the summer."

James sighed, cornered by the dare. "You're such a bastard."

Grinning, Sirius opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a shout from behind them.

"James Fleamont Potter!"

Both boys sprang up from the grass and tucked their wands out of sight at once, causing the broomstick and the Quaffle to immediately fall to the earth around them. James's father was standing behind them, looking downright furious. Even despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, Sirius fought back a laugh at this brand new bit of information. James's middle name was Fleamont?

"Er, hi Dad!" James said cheerfully as both he and Sirius brushed the grass off their clothes.

"Don't 'Hi Dad' me, James," said Mr. Potter in a stern voice. James grimaced. "You were doing magic! In broad daylight! Over the summer! You could be expelled from Hogwarts for that!"

"Oh, come on, Dad. We were just having a bit of fun."

"That is not a bit of fun, James! I'm shocked at this behavior."

"All right, all right," said James, giving his father a sheepish smile as though trying to indulge him. "But wasn't it good magic, though? We're not even supposed to learn summoning until fourth year, and Sirius and I can do it no sweat!"

Mr. Potter exhaled through his nose in a way that reminded Sirius distinctly of Professor McGonagall. This did nothing to lessen his nerves. The last thing he had wanted to do was to anger Mr. and Mrs. Potter. In the distance, a low rumble of thunder signaled the rain was imminent.

"The impressiveness of the magic has nothing to do with this, James. There are rules and laws for a reason and the fact that you were blatantly disregarding one of the most stringent rules in our world is completely unacceptable."

"Stringent?" James said, and even in his anxiousness Sirius found it remarkable how easily James talked back to his parents. "It's not stringent at all! The Ministry can't know who's doing the magic, if it's underage or if it's you or Mum. In fact, the impressiveness does matter, because even if they looked into it, they wouldn't think two third years would be able to do those spells, anyway. There's no way we could get in trouble for it!"

"Think again," said Mr. Potter, and he held out his hand expectantly. James stared at it. "I'll be taking your wands."

"What? Dad, no way! You can't take our wands!"

Mr. Potter stared down his only son, his hand still outstretched. "Watch me."

James was breathing heavily through his nose, clearly furious at his father, who was staring resolutely back, his outstretched hand steady between the two of them. Fuming, James pulled his wand out of his back pocket and slapped it into his father's palm. Then, without another word or glance at either of them, he turned on his heel and stalked into the house, slamming the door loudly behind him. Slowly, Sirius pulled his own wand out and placed it in Mr. Potter's hand on top of James's.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Sirius as Mr. Potter pocketed the wands. He felt shame creeping over him as Mr. Potter surveyed him. Sirius had wanted this man to like him, had wanted all along to show him that he was not what they had expected him to be…that he was different from his family…

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Potter," he repeated, a slight desperation to his voice. This was different than being caught in wrongdoing by one of the Hogwarts professors, and so very, very different from how he felt when he angered his own parents. Mr. Potter said nothing, but frowned at him, so Sirius continued, trying to stave off the fear that he had messed everything up. "It's my fault. It was my idea, not James's."

"Sirius," said Mr. Potter calmly, "it's okay. I'll be keeping your wands for the time-being, though, and as punishment –"

"No," Sirius cut in, his voice cracking, his thoughts flying to his father's wand. "No, don't punish James. Please don't. It was my idea, you can punish me if you need to, just don't –"

Mr. Potter put a steady hand on Sirius's shoulder, looking startled at the panic in his voice. "Sirius!" he said loudly, and Sirius looked up into his lined face and stopped talking at once, his mouth very dry. "Hey, Sirius, it's all right. I was going to say that you two will do the washing up for Flora and Ant tonight as punishment."

He could feel the heat rising up in his face as Mr. Potter looked at him with concern, his hand still gripping his shoulder tightly. "Oh. Right. Okay. I'm really sorry, Mr. Potter, again."

Mr. Potter smiled kindly at him, right as the first few raindrops of the day splattered down around them. "Apology accepted. Now let's get into the house before the sky opens up, shall we? We'll get Flora to make us some tea while we allow James to sulk in his room for a bit."

Sirius nodded, picked up the Shooting Star from the grass, and followed Mr. Potter into the house as the rain started pinging loudly against the roof, wondering – with parents like his – what in the world James Potter had to sulk about.