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Chapter Two

In Which I Hex Sirius Black

Look, I didn't want to hex Sirius Black, I really didn't. In fact, I tried to avoid him as much as possible, seeing as he was an arrogant prick most of the time. Scratch that, actually – all the time.

I try to keep my temper, but something about Black replaces my brain with a vengeful chainsaw, and that's usually how I end up in detention. It's hard to stay out of trouble when you're diagnosed with a very extreme case of Chainsaw-Brain Syndrome, which was why I was slapped with a detention as soon as I got off the Hogwarts Express. That detention was also courtesy of the tattle-tale princess, Lily Evans, and her pristine nose not being able to stay out of other people's business. What a great way to kick off sixth year, right?

Up until the hexing incident, the morning of September the first had been going about as well as it always did – which was bad. I hadn't even been awake for twenty minutes and already Mum had burned the toast, Archie had lost his trainers, and Dad had come out of the bedroom twice to yell about all the noise we were making.

"Piper, get out of the shower already!" Archie shouted, pounding on the door with his fist and disrupting my peaceful conditioning ritual. "What are you doing, shaving your pubes?"

"Sod off, Archie!" I snapped, rinsing the last of the conditioner from my hair before shutting off the shower and grabbing my towel. "You'll get your turn to wank to Mafalda Hopkirk's tits in a second!"

I could hear him spluttering from the other side of the door.

"I don't – Mafalda Hopkirk's tits aren't even that nice!" he protested. "They're, like, deformed little melons or something—"

"Oh, good grief, Archie, no wonder why you can't get a girlfriend," I said scathingly, plucking at my eyebrows to make sure they were in top form. "Is that how you talk about girls? By describing their boobs as 'deformed little melons'?"

"Just hurry up!" he snapped. "We have an hour before we have to leave!"

"Fine," I huffed, grabbing my packed toiletry bag and swinging open the door to reveal an impatient Archie, his black hair tangled into a wild nest on top of his head and his morning breath almost making me keel over. "Loo's yours. Try not to turn it into a nuclear waste zone, yeah?"

"Shove off, Piper," he griped, slamming the door behind him, and I shouted, "Don't forget to brush your teeth, either! Mafalda Hopkirk is gonna run screaming if you come at her with that breath!"

I heard him grumble something very unflattering from the other side of the door before the shower switched on again and I traipsed down the hall to my bedroom, my wet hair slapping against my back.

Drying off the excess water, I sat down at the small wooden vanity I had had ever since I could remember, the white paint peeling off in certain places and several of the drawers sporting crooked or entirely broken handles. I combed out my long hair, disgruntled to see that it was already beginning to frizz, and I pawed through the top drawer until I pulled out a tube of cream that would help keep the curls in place without having to worry about my hair becoming a mane.

After slapping on some makeup and donning one of my best outfits (I had a reputation to maintain, all right? I wasn't about to show up looking like some slob on the Hogwarts Express), I threw all of my toiletries into my trunk and shut it with some difficulty. I had never been a savvy packer, and tended to bring a lot more than what I actually needed, but I figured it was always better to be over-prepared than not.

Satisfied that I was ready and had everything (I didn't have to worry about an owl or anything, thank God; we had always been too poor to afford one, so Archie and I had to rely on the school owls to communicate with our parents – and good riddance. I had smelled some of my friends' cages over the years, and wow, did they stink), I dragged my trunk down the stairs and set it in front of the door before making my way into the cramped yellow kitchen.

"Where's Archie?" Mum fretted, sparing me a peck on the cheek as she slid a plate of (thankfully) unburned toast and marmalade in front of me.

I gestured vaguely upstairs, taking a gulp from my orange juice. "Probably still packing," I said. "You know how much he procrastinates."

"Both of you procrastinate to the point of giving me heart problems," she retorted, glancing to the stairs anxiously. "Finish your toast; I'm going to see if he needs any help."

I rolled my eyes as she went upstairs. Even though Archie was only a year younger than me, Mum still acted like he was a baby, and it was enough to make me want to throw back up my toast.

On that note, though, let me tell you a little bit about my mother.

Her name is Ella Everlark, and if you'd seen her, you would swear she was my older sister or something. She's incredibly young, and stunningly pretty, which is how she had captured the attention of my dad when she was a waitress at the pub he used to frequent in his university days. The rest you can probably figure out: they fell in love, ran away together, had me when she was eighteen and he was twenty-one, and got married. The love story every girl dreams about, yeah?

See, the thing about those love stories is that they're just that – stories. They don't go into the reality of a life like that, and the consequences it can have. After my brother was born, their marriage started to fall apart. Dad couldn't find a stable job in the rough economy, and Mum didn't have the proper schooling to find a decent one. Things got hard, money got scarce, and they began to stress. That stress led to bickering; bickering became fighting; fighting became screaming; screaming turned into week-long silences that weighed on us like a suffocating blanket, and soon, they couldn't even stand to be in the same room as each other. Dad eventually found a job, but alcohol became his new wife, and Mum…well, she didn't really do much about it. She just took care of Archie and me, and when we were at school, she attended night classes to get a better education, and spent her days as a waitress at the local restaurant a few blocks from home. Life went on in our disjointed family.

I have vague memories of all of us being an actual family once. How every Sunday we would go to the park and have picnics, and Dad would give us pieces of bread to feed the ducks in the pond while Mum sat back and watched, snapping pictures of us on her camera. Or how every Christmas we would all wake up at the crack of dawn and sit in front of the fireplace, drinking hot cocoa while we all exchanged stocking stuffers. They were little things, but they were like the glue holding all of us together. When Professor McGonagall came, it was like that glue dissolved. We hadn't been the same since.

Of course, I would never blame my brother and I being a wizard and a witch for the rift that had formed in our family. Finding out I was a witch and starting Hogwarts had been the best news of my life, and I didn't regret any of it. But sometimes I couldn't help but wonder what would've happened had Archie and I just been Muggles.

I finished my toast and juice and took my dishes to the sink, washing them slowly and biding my time until Archie and Mum came back down. I glanced at the clock hanging above the sink and saw that it was close to being 10:30, and I cringed; despite living in close proximity to King's Cross, we were pushing it, even by Everlark standards. No sooner had I thought it then Archie came bounding down the stairs, dragging his trunk so it hit every step with a heavy thud, and Mum appeared behind him, flapping her hands and shooing him toward the kitchen.

"Good heavens, look at the time!" she moaned. "The cab is waiting! Archie, you're going to have to get something from the trolley, dear, we don't have time – Piper, move your trunk out of the way, honey, we need to go—"

"What about Dad?" Archie asked as he pulled on a jumper. "Isn't he coming, too?"

I snorted, butting in before Mum could make up another lame excuse for him. "Since when does he ever come with us, Arch?" I said. "He'd rather sit on his ass than do anything nice for us—"

"That's enough, Piper," Mum said, her blue eyes flashing warningly. "Please, just get your trunk and let's get to the cab."

Archie shot me a glare before stalking out of our small house, dragging his trunk along the sidewalk as he headed for the cab. I rolled my eyes at his back; it wasn't my fault he was upset that Dad wasn't coming, but I decided not to push the subject further as Mum and I followed him out, the cab driver helping us load our things into the trunk.

"Jesus, you kids goin' to Mars or somethin'?" He laughed at his own joke as we clambered into the cab, the three of us squishing in the back as he pulled into the busy intersection.

"Nah, the mental asylum, actually," I said sarcastically, watching the traffic around us. "It always has vacancies for the criminally insane, like us."

"Will you shut up?" Archie snapped, shooting me a poisonous look. "You're not funny."

I gaped at him, mock-offended. "Rude. I'm hilarious!"

"Sod off," he grumbled, and Mum reached over me and pinched his arm, causing him to scowl and bat her hand away.

"Language, young man!" she admonished, and he rolled his eyes when she couldn't see, going back to staring out the window moodily.

Ah, the stench of teen angst.

"Here we are," the driver said, pulling to a stop outside of King's Cross a few minutes later. "I'll be waitin' 'round a few more minutes in case you need a ride back, little lady." He winked at my mum, puffing on his cigarette, and she gave him an uncomfortable smile as we filed out.

"That won't be necessary," she said, paying him the fare and a tip while his cigarette drooped in disappointment. "But thank you for the offer."

After that, the driver looked a lot less enthused as he helped us unload our trunks, and as soon as we found a trolley, he took off back into the London traffic without a farewell.

The station was packed, as usual, but we hurried along, anyway, the clock reading that it was 10:51. The Hogwarts Express was set to leave at eleven, and we were nearly jogging by the time we reached the wall separating platforms 9 and 10.

"Have a great term, my dears," Mum said, kissing each of us on the cheek before ushering us forward. "And don't forget to write! I love you both!"

"Bye, Mum," Archie said, giving her a last wave before running for the wall and disappearing in the blink of an eye. I turned around, meeting my mum's eyes as she gave me a tight smile.

"Go on, Piper," she said. "You don't want to miss the train."

I stepped forward and gave her a hug, trying to squeeze all of my emotion out in that one embrace.

"Mum, do you remember what I told you at the beginning of this summer?" I asked her seriously, watching her forehead crease and her lips purse as she thought. "About the bad men, and what's going on in the wizarding world?"

"You mean the violence against us," she recalled, her expression turning worried. "Or, Muggles. People like me and your father."

I nodded slowly. "Right. But not just Muggles. Magical people who have Muggle parents – they're called Muggle-borns, y'know, people like me – they're being targeted, too. So…be careful, all right? And if you or Dad hear or see anything strange happening, write me, you hear? I can tell Professor Dumbledore – the headmaster, remember, one of the most powerful wizards we have? He'll know what to do. Just promise me you'll be safe, okay?"

"Piper—" she said, her blue eyes filled with concern, but I shook my head. "Mum, please. Promise me."

She searched my face for a few moments, and I wondered what we looked like to other people right then. Two women, almost identical, staring each other down in a crowded train station, one of them pale and anxious, and the other solemn and tense. Finally, she nodded, and I gave her a tiny smile.

"I promise, my love," she whispered, clutching me tightly to her as I hugged her again. "Be safe, and have fun this year, all right? All things considering. I love you, sweetie."

"I love you, too, Mum." I pulled away, kissing her cheek lightly before grabbing the trolley again. "See you at Christmas!"

She waved as I jogged toward the barrier, and I tried not to feel like it was my final farewell to her before I shut my eyes and suddenly found myself on Platform 9 ¾, the scarlet steam engine billowing smoke in front of me as a detached voice announced that it would be departing the station in three minutes.

The platform was nearly empty, most of the students having already boarded and leaving first-time parents clogging the pathway, waving to their children aboard the train. I wheedled my way through them, searching for a compartment with some acquaintances so I could get on until I heard someone calling my name.

"Piper! Piper Everlark! Over here!"

I turned my trolley in the direction of the sound and grinned as two of my best friends, Dorcas Meadowes and Emmeline Vance, sprinted toward me, looking quite relieved as they enveloped me in a tight group hug.

"Merlin, I thought you were going to miss the train!" Dorcas exclaimed, shoving my shoulder as I laughed. "And that is so not funny, Pipes!"

"'Course it is," I said, sticking my tongue out at her as we began to head back the way they had come. "Means Mummy Dor-Dor was worried about me!"

"Gross," she said, giving my tongue a distasteful look. "Just be glad Em and I were actually looking for you."

"What took you so long, anyway?" Emmeline asked, helping me wheel the trolley toward their compartment, and I snorted.

"Archie," I said, and that was all the answer they needed as they both made faces. My brother was infamous amongst Gryffindor House for being a little git, and they were all too familiar with his antics as a compartment door swung out in front of us.

"There you are," came an exasperated voice, and I looked up to see my other best friend and roommate, Becca Crouch, gazing down at us imperiously. "Hurry up; the train's about to leave!"

"All right, all right, keep your hair on," Dorcas said, waving her hand as all three of us attempted to haul my trunk into the compartment. It took a few tries, but we eventually got it in there and stowed it away, shutting the door just as the train whistle blew and we began to lug out of the station.

"Now that all of us are here," Dorcas began, shaking out her thick hair, "I'd like to congratulate us for making it to sixth year!"

We all cheered, and I slung an arm around Emmeline's neck as she ruffled my curls, laughing.

"I hope you brought something to back up that celebratory statement," Becca said shrewdly, smirking when Dorcas brought out a small pink flask from her bag.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you managed to sneak that aboard," Emmeline said, reaching for the flask and opening it, the scent of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey hitting my nose and making my eyes water.

Emmeline took a swig, passing it to me as Dorcas shrugged, examining her fingernails. "I have my ways, Em, let's leave it at that."

I took a small sip, the liquor burning my throat as I passed it on to Becca, who took an enormous gulp before handing it back to Dorcas, who drained the rest of it before putting it away.

"So, first order of business," Becca said, clapping her hands together. "How was everyone's holiday? Any cute boys? Or girls?" She nudged Dorcas's shoulder playfully and the other girl swatted her away, though a pink hue had colored her bronze cheeks.

"There was a very nice Spanish girl…" Dorcas mused. "Too bad she didn't swing that way, though."

We all groaned sympathetically, and Emmeline shook her head. "I find that hard to believe," she said. "The goddess herself, Dorcas Meadowes, couldn't snag someone she wanted? There's no hope for any of us!"

She fell dramatically into my lap, and I shoved her off, laughing. "Oh, whatever will we do?"

"And what about you, Buxom Beauty?" Dorcas asked me, and I rolled my eyes at the nickname she had given me in fourth year when it became apparent that I was the bustier one out of the group. "How many boys did you have dangling off your arms this summer?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, brushing some loose curls off of my neck. "Not a lot, actually." When they all gave me skeptical looks, I rolled my eyes. "Seriously. I didn't have any time to lounge about on Spanish beaches or take romantic walks in the moonlight in Amsterdam." I gave Becca a pointed look, and she just grinned wickedly. "I had work all the time."

"How was that, by the way?" Emmeline asked, studying me with her dark eyes. "I bet Fortescue was a nightmare."

"She wasn't too bad," I said, thinking back to all of my encounters with Alice. "She usually tended to ignore me, unless she was bored. Then she would just talk about how great it was to legally use magic outside of school and how much she missed her boyfriend."

They all shuddered at this, and Becca sniffed disdainfully. "Why anyone would ever willingly date a Longbottom is beyond me."

This launched the topic of who was the most eligible bachelor (or, in Dorcas's case, bachelorette) Hogwarts had to offer, but I tuned out the discussion after a while, not much interested in it. I had dated my fair share of blokes before, but conversations like these always bored me to death. As far as I could tell, no one was worth dating or hooking up with at Hogwarts anymore, and it was a great relief when Becca announced that the trolley was coming.

"Thank God," I muttered, grabbing my small sack of wizard money and following my friends out into the corridor and heading for the cluster of students surrounding the trolley.

Becca and Dorcas pushed their way through the younger students, leaving Emmeline and me to follow in their wake, as both of them were exceedingly tall and intimidating, with Dorcas's signature bitch-face and Becca's heavy eyeliner and multiple piercings.

I grabbed up two Licorice Wands and a Pumpkin Pasty, handing over a few coins to the lady running the trolley and thanking her before rejoining my waiting friends. We had only taken a few steps before a sickeningly arrogant voice shouted behind us.

"Well, look who it is!" Sirius Black shoved his way through the poor younger students now, his finely-sculpted face chiseled into a sneer and his grey eyes twinkling mischievously. "Pimply, Amazon, Pupils, and Freak, all together again!"

A shrill giggle followed his description of us, and I turned my glare on the seventh-year Marlene McKinnon, with Alice Fortescue, Mary MacDonald, and the bane of my existence, Lily Evans, standing behind her. I glimpsed the other three Marauders behind them, and I internally groaned as I realized just how awful this situation was about to become.

"Piss off, Black," Becca snapped, but Black's grin only widened.

"Aw, c'mon, Freak, didn't you miss me?" he said. "Lovely new piercing, by the way; did you get that because it reminded you of your true bull form?"

Becca automatically reached for her septum ring, her pale face flaming red as Dorcas stepped in front of her protectively.

"Don't you have something better to do, Black?" she said. "Why don't you and Potter go play with each other's wands or something?"

"Ooh, did you hear that, Prongs?" Black said gleefully as Potter ambled over to him. "Amazon thinks we're gay for each other!"

Potter cast us all an unimpressed look before turning his stare on Dorcas. "Seems like Amazon just wishes someone else would join her pride club," he said dismissively, and I clenched my fists when McKinnon and the other girls choked on their laughter.

"Eat shit, Potter," I snapped, pushing the fuming Dorcas and mortified Becca back down the corridor to our compartment. "C'mon, Em. Let's not waste any more time on these bigots."

Emmeline followed after me reluctantly, shooting them all a last rude hand gesture as they laughed behind us.

"Wow, that's a big word, Pimply!" Black scoffed. "Did you learn that from shagging Bertram Aubrey last term?"

I froze in my tracks, turning to face Black slowly, a sort of dull ringing in my ears. "What did you say?"

"Surprised?" He sneered at me as I stared at him, my eyes never once leaving his stupid smirking face. "C'mon, we all know how you managed to pass your O.W.L.s; because little Miss Perfect has to get everything she wants, even if it means sleeping her way to the top."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe he was saying all of this to me. My vision tunneled until it was just me and him, my brain barely registering when Remus Lupin shoved Black roughly, saying, "Leave her alone, Padfoot. Stop being a fucking git."

I didn't know when my wand had gotten into my hand, but it was there, and the whole corridor crackled with intensity.

It all happened in a blur after that.

I don't remember casting the hex, but suddenly there were bats flying all around Black's face and attacking him in a rush of leathery wings. My wand was blasted out of my hand, and I vaguely remember Lupin pointing his own at me before chaos erupted.

The younger students started screaming and trampling back to their compartments, and Marlene McKinnon and the other girls were desperately trying to dispel the hex from Black while Evans ranted in the background, saying how she was Head Girl and how she hoped Professor McGonagall would expel me for this, and the other Marauders were trying to help Black stand, Potter yelling curses at me while Lupin just stared at me, something like an apology written in his gaze.

And there it is, folks: the story of how I singlehandedly took out Sirius Black and landed myself in detention, all before we even set foot in Hogwarts!

It was going to be a bloody long year.


Yes, the Marauders and the seventh-year girls are going to be quite rude for the first few chapters, but I promise they get better and that there are reasons for the hostility. Let's not forget that they're teenagers and the Marauders were canonically quite bullies during their school years!